#AND YES THE DOMESTICITY OF THIS RELATIONSHIP IS MY DREAM BECAUSE I WANT IT TOO!!

[starlostseungmin]

reblogging this feedback on my main because @starseungs lost her sanity and i’m happy for it 😔💔

to love and be loved — kim seungmin.

summary : a series of events. from the start to a new beginning. to be in love, to love and be loved—what is a relationship with seungmin look like?

✰ pairing : boyfriend!seungmin x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

✰ genre : semi-college au, slice of life, established relationship, fluff, a bit of angst.

✰ warnings : use of profanity, mentions of alcohol consumerism and cheating, kissing, semi-proofread, lmk if i missed one.

✰ word count : 9.9k

disclaimer !!　after two months of this fic being on standby, it is finally here. this was also posted first based on what the poll results said. please do not forget to reblog and leave feedback! thank you so much. 𖹭 — special mention to chase atlantic’s song, paradise.

𖹭 ⁺ ONE. 

To be loved by Seungmin is like a beautiful dream you didn’t want to wake up from. It also visualizes the satisfaction of how you finally completed a puzzle and he was the last missing piece or that sigh of success after finishing a 400-page novel in one sitting. You didn’t know how you ended up here. Maybe there were a few scenarios in which you were crazy enough to capture his heart as well. And for that matter, how did everything start? 

A rainy day in the middle of spring had brought an unexpected turn of events. The to-do list was just as simple as counting from 1 to 10, but it became difficult, like a math problem, for someone who hates numerical methods. It all began with a bold confession you’ve seen in dramas based on the execution. Seungmin stood two meters away with his back turned against you while you were shedding tears, ready to be rejected. You didn’t want to repeat those words, and if you did, it would only make him go insane.

“Why don’t you buy me lunch after your thesis defense? ”He said, and that’s what happened. But instead of thanking him, stupid, you confessed your damn feelings while he was enjoying his food. He stopped moving his mouth and had his hand drop the fork on his plate, trying to process your sentence. 

“I like you.” It’s just that simple, and he should understand what it means as someone who is always at the top of the class. But it seems hard to fathom, especially when those words come from you. “I like you, Seungmin.” He scoffed at it the second time he heard it, but you were taking all the risks. 

Why? 

You were supposed to be friends, but what he did throughout college made you think it was more than that when he was just being nice, or that’s what you thought. 

He was the one who made sure you’d get home safely every night when your strict professor dismissed you late or you had to stay on campus until midnight. He knows your full schedule every semester, knows the exact components of your to-go drink, knows what you like or don’t like, knows your favorite band, and even bought you their albums as a gift for your birthday, he’d make sure no one would bother you if you fell asleep in the library, he helped you when you were struggling on your homework and stayed up all night with you, he was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on and said “Just tell me your worries,” or when Mr. Park almost flunked you in one of your majors or just let you cry whatever the reason behind those tears that he wanted to wipe away with his thumbs—Seungmin was that kind of friend. 

And now, there you were. The sounds of the rain replaced the quiet and awkward atmosphere. He looked at you as if you were insane, and why did the need to mention it now after all the wasted time? Not in a public space, Y/N, not in private either! You were sweating in the cold like a convict who was lying about the crime they committed, and your hands were shaking so much that you couldn’t stab the food with your fork. Was confessing this hard? You were ready to be rejected either way because Seungmin silently judged you to the moon and back. 

He took the last bite and drank his iced tea in one gulp before grabbing his coat as he exited the restaurant in the blink of an eye. You were left dejected, but you knew you couldn’t just let him go home without a full essay from your mouth about what just happened. 

“Seungmin, wait! ”You called upon following him outside while letting the rain pour above your head. No umbrellas were brought. “Seungmin! ” 

There was no response again as he continued walking. Seungmin was already a few meters away from the restaurant when you got out. Was he a fast walker? People started to stare at the both of you, but he didn’t even bother to take a glance at what was behind him. You didn’t want to do it, but you just wanted to end the day without saying your feelings—not on graduation day, not after, but now. And being shunned made you feel restless. 

“Seungmin Sky Kim! ”Not the full name, but it made him stop by the sidewalk. Seungmin sighed heavily, his broad shoulders dropping and just letting the rain soak his black locks. You’re not expecting him to turn around and just go finish what you started while standing two meters away. With the rain adding to the dramatic effect, tears being covered by the raindrops, and people watchingーthose words finally came to life. 

“It doesn’t matter whether you turn around, but please hear me out! ”You said, breathing heavily. “You told me to tell you my thoughts, feelings, worries, and whatever the hell I have here in my heart, but we’re out here in the rain with your back turned against me, avoiding me,” It was loud enough for everyone to hear, and it was bold of you to do it in public when he knew you were against yourself doing public speech, but here you are. “I like you, Seungmin! I like you so much that it bothers me because I might not be able to see you after graduation. I just don’t want to keep it anymore, and I want to tell you everything. I’m sorry if it’s making you feel uncomfortable or if I’m ruining our friendship because of what I am saying. I can handle it,” You added in between your sobs. “I tried so hard not to have any attachment aside from being friends, and I know you were just being nice, and you helped me a lot. I’m sorry if I loved you more than that when I’m supposed to be just appreciating and thanking you for always being with me. I loved you as a friend, and I love you as someone who sees more than what you think about yourself. Please don’t hate me. You can do whatever you want after this. Just don’t hate me.”

Seungmin didn’t say anything, as he was still standing there as if someone had told him to freeze on his spot when you just called out his full name. Everyone was waiting—not just you, but all the people watching as if you were shooting a scene for an upcoming melodrama type of movie.

“Are you not going to say anything? ” You asked, wiping your face along with tears that got mixed up with the rain. “Seungmin? ” You called once again. 

Seungmin didn’t know how to react or what to say after that bold move. What was the purpose of being nice to you? At first, it was pure. It doesn’t usually happen, as he was picky in terms of having friends in college, and he was happy when you fully embraced him. You did things for him when he was the one in need, made sure he ate on time in between his busy schedules, let him sleep in your apartment since it’s just a block away from campus, brightened his day when it felt gloomy, the one who treats him like a literal puppy whenever you get cuteness aggression, the one who accompanied him into several road trips where you share gossips, the one he brought home to his parents during the holidays because you are always his first choiceーfuck the rest of his homies (lovingly), the one who made his heart melt every time he sees you happy… maybe he needed that bold confession of yours to realize something. 

You were ready to leave after minutes of waiting and calling for his name, only for him to turn around and actually say something. Just one more minute. Another minute for nothing. 

“You know what? It’s fine; you can go. Thank you for listening anyway. Have a nice life, Seungmin.” You smiled, although he couldn’t see. “Show’s over, everyone. Have a nice day,” you added while clapping your hands as the people around you started to whisper to each other. 

“Poor girl,” 

“Well, that’s how loving someone sometimes, you can’t guarantee they'll return it.” 

“Damn, at least say something.” 

It wasn’t the pressure from the crowd. There was no pressure at all. It was just him; he was confused and didn’t know what to do. But if you were this bold to tell the whole world that you love him, then it’s time to make a decision. 

Everyone was still waiting, even if you had already dismissed them, and not expecting anything from him, but suddenly he turned around, dropped his coat on the wet, cold cement of that fucking sidewalk, and went straight in your direction at a fast pace. You waited for him, and so everyone finally got what they were waiting for him to do. His warm hands were placed on your cheeks as his lips collided with yours. There was a spark. It was so sweet and delicate that it made something melt inside of you. Both of your hearts are racing and your cheeks are burning due to the blood rush. 

You get why everyone was loud around the streets of Seoul. Seungmin didn’t let go of you that easily as your bodies pressed together. His lips tasted like what he just consumed with a mixture of iced tea. They were warm and soft, and you could feel his breath as it tickled your nose. It was like a dream or something that only happens on television, or like how a prince kisses a princess for the first time. It is indeed the first time. 

“It took you long enough to say it,” he said upon pulling away. You sniffed in response and looked down at your shoes, getting soaked. 

“It took you long enough to turn around,” you said, wiping your nose as your eyes met the moment you looked at him. His hands were still warm on your cheeks as he painted a smile on those delicate lips of his that you finally had the opportunity to kiss. 

“That was abrupt. I didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled. You didn’t need Seungmin to say the same words in return. That kiss was enough. 

“I understand.” You smiled as he planted another kiss on your lips. 

“May we go now? We’re going to get sick at this point,” he suggested, making you giggle in response. 

“Of course.” Before you did, Seungmin kissed you on the forehead and picked up his coat. A little girl threw petals on your path as a sign of congratulations to you and the other citizens who witnessed such an event. 

𖹭 ⁺ TWO. 

You believed that you couldn’t find love; instead, love finds you at the perfect time. Seungmin came out of nowhere. It’s like how Isaac Newton discovered gravity after an apple fell above his head or that unexpected strike of lightning in the sky even if there was no hint of bad weather. But thoughts aside, how does it feel to love Seungmin?

It feels like heaven on the inside. 

To expand its denotation, Seungmin is the angel that the heavens sent you when you needed someone, especially during those trying times during college, and his role in your life grew as the days, seasons, and years passed by. 

It’s beautiful, like a lit candle on the windowsill that serves as your light when the electricity is off. It’s unexpected and accidental, like the spilled ink on an architecture student’s tracing paper that was supposedly a mistake, and yet it made a curious pattern instead. It’s exhilarating, like that portrait of you and him being hung on the wall at his parents’ house, which was taken on that one holiday when he brought you home with him and played video games together, sabotaging him, which made him say, “If I lose, it’s your fault! ”Then you would just laugh it off. It’s refreshing, like watching the ocean and other scenery as the train passes by through the city. 

Your heart raced every time you couldn’t sleep until 1 a.m. and would say, “It’s probably because of the coffee.” which you had a few hours earlier, which is not. Blame them for whatever you want; Seungmin is the sole reason behind everything you feel. He’d kiss you in public like a gentleman but becomes dominant when it’s just the two of you; he doesn’t say empty words on those intimate nights and is truly a man of his word. He nags you because he cares; he protects you because he doesn’t want you to get hurt; he treasures you because you’re precious to him; and he needs you because he loves you. 

Love is an understatement, and you could say that words defining what loving Kim Seungmin feels like are not enough for a writer to write them in books. The feelings are sincere. They never changed the moment you decided to love him. You admit there were ups and downs in this relationship. Those nonsense arguments in the middle of the night made one of you storm out of the room, yet he came back a few hours later to apologize, finding out his flaws. He’d insist that he’s not the most perfect boyfriend he could offer you, but even if you close your eyes, he still blooms beautifully like a flower after winter, indicating the start of spring. Seungmin is the definition of perfect; you couldn’t ask for anything else. 

Kim Seungmin is the person who made you feel loved and adored. 

Four years ago, you were just as good as friends—not until your confidence rose like you had consumed a ton of alcohol just to say you loved him. Which you didn't, and yet it was romantic. A confession and a kiss were shared under the rain. Seungmin was happy that you did; you just didn’t seem to understand why he didn’t tell you first when he felt the same and waited for you to make the first move. 

“I was afraid you’d reject me,” he would argue. “You’re braver than me,” he defended. 

“If I didn’t do it, then we’ll just grow apart after graduation, then? ” You asked, as it made him laugh in embarrassment. 

“I was going to tell you after the graduation ceremony, in front of your parents and mine, but someone here got a little bit overwhelmed,” He smiled, ruffling your hair as you huffed in response. “I need to go now, love. I’m running late,” he added, planting a soft kiss on your lips before exiting your room. You hurriedly went out of bed to see him outside, although you had just woken up from a relaxing Sunday night. 

“Will you come home early? ” You asked as he was tying his shoelaces by the entryway of your shared apartment. 

“I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know when I can, alright? ” He answered. “I’ll see you tonight,” He added after he finished and placed one last kiss on your lips before waving goodbye as he vanished through the door. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you locked the door and ate what Seungmin had cooked. He usually wakes up early and cooks for you during the weekdays; it happens every morning, duty calls early anyway, and sometimes he doesn’t spend the night here with you due to his busy schedule. You understand how hectic his job could get; that’s why you visit him if he doesn’t come home and fall asleep while he works. Seungmin doesn’t mind; he loves your presence near him, always. 

In the past four years of this relationship, it has been amazing. At first, he was a cute, innocent puppy that thrived to survive from the very first day of being a freshman, the one whose only goal was to compete and win. Which he did, and that includes your heart. It was him from the start without realizing the fact that you were slowly cascading into something you didn’t sign up for. But that didn’t matter now that you were already spending days with him trying to survive life.

“What do you want for dinner? I’ll cook,” he said over the line as he walked toward his car. “I’ll buy ingredients before coming home. Are you almost done with work? ” 

“Min, you cooked this morning. Let me do it tonight, I’ll meet you at the grocery,” You smiled at your phone, although he couldn’t see it. 

“No, I’ll pick you up. Stay where I can see you immediately, alright? ” He answered while getting in, as a loud thud was heard when he shut the door. “Love you,” 

“Okay, I love you too,” you replied. “Drive safely,” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” 

Seungmin kissed your cheek as you settled on the passenger’s seat, asking how your day went, and the same goes for you, who missed him every bit of the time he was away. It’s like having separation anxiety—you can’t stop thinking that you miss him. The sweet scent of his car, his gentle yet intoxicating perfume, the way he’d hold your hand while the other had its grip on the steering wheel as he kept switching glances from the road to you and vice versa. 

Watching him drive with that straight face that sometimes turns bright as his lips form a smile when he giggles in response to what you said or the fact that he is soft-spoken when it comes to you can validate that you are fucking down bad. You can’t blame yourself for putting your guard down when you were the one who fell first, or so you thought. 

Having to shop together as an act of sharing quality time is one of the biggest love languages Seungmin could ever offer. He doesn’t mind if you come home late; fuck the working hours the next day; he just wants to be with you. 

“Do we have strawberries at home? ”He asked as you strolled over the fruit section. Do you know how much he loves strawberries and can finish a pack within a day? Yes. 

“No, they’re all gone to your stomach,” you said, making him laugh, and you took a few packs. “If it’s not the strawberries, you’d be picking a pack of coffee pods. I swear, you’ll become either of those two in your next life.” 

“What, a coffee bean or strawberry? ”He asked, confused. 

“Yeah, there’s never a day you don’t drink caffeine and a single strawberry, as well as eggs,” you added, which made him do the most adorable thing ever that you couldn’t resist: the sad puppy eyes. 

“Is that a bad thing? ”It made you clutch your chest in awe. How could such a grown-up man be this mature yet act like a small puppy? 

“Yes, and no,” you huffed. “But please don’t do that; you always get it the way you want when you do that,” you added, which made him chuckle in return. 

“Do what? ”He smirked, pushing the cart away. 

“The puppy thing,” you argued, following him to the next food section. 

“I am your puppy, aren’t I? ” 

“Yes, you are.” You sighed while rolling your eyes playfully. 

After that, Seungmin gave you a proud smile and went home with everything you bought. He doesn’t let you carry anything and just holds the door for him to place the groceries by the counter. It happens all the time. You have to put them in place and him preparing to cook after washing up—it’s like the bond of a married couple during the honeymoon phase. 

Hugging him from behind after admiring his broad shoulders, kissing his cheek after smelling the food he’s cooking, a peck on the lips when he gets flustered, your arms around his waist tightened gently because you didn’t want to let go, he holds your hand while the other one was busy stirring the soup. It’s a form of expressing love without words. Actions with reassurance are better than being comforted with words unaccompanied by effort. 

“I’m almost done, love,” he said, but it only made you hug him tighter, earning a heartfelt laugh from him. “You love me that much, don’t you? ” 

“I always do,” you pouted as he pressed the off button of your electric stove. 

“Come here,” he said, turning around and capturing you into his arms and kissing your lips over and over again, making you giggle in between. 

Eating together while catching up on what happened at work, helping him wash the dishes afterward, and poking some soap bubbles on your nose to make you laugh at how childish it was is another form of bonding—a playful one. 

“Go to sleep,” he said as you both got into each other’s arms, lying on your shared bed. 

“No,” you’d say. 

“Then no kisses for you tomorrow,” he answered, which made you frown at the thought. 

“Fine,” you said as he kissed your lips softly. “Good night,” you added, looking at him with his cheek squished on the pillow. 

“Good night, love,” he said, giving you another kiss on the forehead. 

They say you'll fall asleep immediately when you’re sleeping with someone whom you feel safe around, and by that means, Seungmin is that someone. You get so dependent on him that your body gets used to him, and it releases dopamine and serotonin, which is proven to be true. With his arms around your back, his soft heartbeat on his chest, his gentle smell, soft breaths, and cuddly nature, you just wanted to stay there forever. 

Living with him and having to spend each day like this is like a dream come true that you never want to end. It is endearing; it has a sense of comfort that you can’t find anywhere but here, with him. And it is something you can call home. 

𖹭 ⁺ THREE. 

You didn’t know what you did in your past life or why you deserved to be loved by Seungmin. To you, he is perfect. He’s the type of boyfriend that a lot of people want for themselves. It is also hard to understand why he chose you out of all those surrounding him. You were sure it wasn’t because of the non-existent pressure he felt when you confessed to him four years ago, and complaining would be the last thing you'd do in this relationship. So, how does Seungmin love?

He shows it from time to time. A love that you can’t find in somebody else. It existed at the very beginning, and it will last until the very end. 

Seungmin couldn’t ask for anything. For him, it was like opening Pandora’s box, but it consisted of great and unexpected good things, like an acceptance letter from his dream university or a treasure chest that would make him automatically rich. And he is the most thankful to have you in his life—probably the most precious gift from the heavens. It’s like a puppy being adopted and falling in love at first sight when he knows who’s going to be his owner. 

“I love loving you,” he said. It was sudden, as he was waiting for you to be done packing your things for the trip that you’d been planning for months. A smile was formed on your face, giggling at the fact that it made you caught off guard.

“Why?” You asked softly. 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” He laughed making you frown in response. “Maybe because you take care of me so well even during those times when I couldn’t look out for myself, or maybe because you love me too much that I wouldn’t ask for anything more. I can’t answer the question ‘Why?’” He shrugged. 

“Well.” You paused, smirking at the thought. “Your actions are speaking louder than words, Love.”

“Hmm, do I?” He asked, tilting his head to the side upon taking the bag off your hands. 

“Yeah,” You smiled. “You don’t need words to tell you love someone,” 

“Am I not good with words?” He asked, giving you those sad puppy eyes again. 

“You are. But please don’t give me that look or I’m going to tackle you down.” You threatened making him laugh in return. 

“You love my puppy eyes.” He teased as you rolled your eyes in response. 

“Yes, you can show those puppy eyes later! And that should be all. Shall we go now?” You answered.

“Of course,” He said, placing a soft kiss on your lips before leaving your shared apartment. “Can’t wait to spend the long weekend with you!” He beamed excitedly. 

He’s not the type to express his love through words. Apart from giving you quality time in this relationship, he also offers acts of service that may have knocked your heart out ever since your university days. He’s the type to do things for you instead of tiring yourself. Seungmin always has his way to your heart without you noticing at first. They can be silly at times, maybe serious, or just the little things; he doesn’t mind. Even for other people, it will just be the bare minimum for a man to serve you, but Seungmin is way bigger than that.

Seungmin loves you like Shakespeare loved his wife and dedicated his sonnets to her. It’s giddy like a teenage girl writing how much they adore her crush in a love letter. It could raise someone’s standards, like how a writer writes and portrays a protagonist who would do anything for their partner—a fictional character that became everyone’s ideal type. Sometimes it would feel like the ice blended well with the whiskey poured into the glass. It's like a florist making their favorite bouquet that consists of the prettiest flowers in the shop. Fun like kids playing on the playground. It's comfortable, like having a cup of hot chocolate as you sit together on a couch while watching the rain on the balcony. Lively and filled with excitement, like seeing your favorite band’s concert, reassuring, like a prayer that always works. 

It feels nice. 

“Seungmin! ”It would always make him feel nice when you’re around, especially when his name comes out of your mouth like a melody that captures his heart and mind in a split second. 

“Baby? ”His heart would race as if it were the first time. A giddy smile would appear as he’d turn around to face you like a puppy getting excited, with a wagging tail, full of expectations, ready to cuddle and smother you with kisses. Hugs are not enough to show how affectionate he is.

“Yes?” Seungmin answered snapping himself back to reality. 

“Shall we take a stroll? ”You asked as he watched you enjoy the sunset by the beach as the wind blew around your hair, and tucking it behind your ear made him fall in love with you even more. Beautiful is just a word of restraint from what he sees—a word mixed up with similar definitions. Heavenly. 

“Okay,” He smiled. 

The genuine smile you’re wearing, the way you laugh, and the way you talk a lot about the beautiful scenery could make him listen to you all day. He’d hold your hand while walking together barefoot on the sand, and the other hand would carry your shoes. You’d always hold him accountable for not looking at anyone but him. Why would you be surprised when he suddenly burst into your door with a full package of everything you wanted? And just like both of your monologues always say, you couldn’t and won’t ask for anything more. Enough is not the right word. 

Loving you is one of the greatest decisions he ever made in his life, after thanking his parents for giving him life almost three decades ago. Living in the same lifetime as you, the same year, the same seasons and events, and being grateful are just some of the euphemisms in between sentences. I got love-struck to the brain and heart, then ended up as a lovesick puppy, like seeing stars despite the raindrops. Down bad as fuck. 

As the door closed and knobs were locked, with the room installed with dim lights after clicking the second switch, you threw your arms around Seungmin’s neck as he sealed your lips with a kiss, his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. Your fingers played with his new, trimmed black locks that you thought looked good on him. A new style that made your heart go crazy as it showed you another side of him. 

He left out a soft sound against your lips, tasting the rosehip lip balm that coated its skin. His one hand found its way to caressing your neck as he deepened the kiss and later held your cheek to make it more passionate and impatient. You know this is not the first time he has ever held you like this as you make out, but it will always feel like the first time. He moved his mouth slowly and gently onto yours, biting and sucking the lower part of your lips, earning a soft groan from you. A smirk was painted on his lips when he knew you liked it. That’s one thing about him: he gets cocky when he knows he gets the upper hand and gets what he wants. But you don’t mind at all; everything from you is for him, and everything from him is for you. 

“I love you so much,” he says as he pulls an inch away. 

“And I love you more.” You smiled at him, planting a chaste kiss on his lips, and he returned it upon placing another kiss on your forehead. 

Seungmin looked at you as you slept comfortably beside him that night. A gentle face with a calm expression as you fall deep into slumber because you know he’s there with you. His fingertips traced your cheeks down to your lips, slowly leaning forward to give you a soft and warm good-night kiss, which made you hum in response, scooting closer. A light giggle escaped his lips while wrapping his arms around your back and leaving another kiss on the crown of your head, feeling your warmth. 

“I don’t know why you chose me, but I promise I will love you forever, and if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up anymore. I love you, Y/N.” 

You heard that. He never gets tired of saying he loves you, because why would he when his entire heart was solely captured by you? It doesn’t take a lot of time to fall for him even more. It only made you hug him tighter and drift into a dream. 

Seungmin fell asleep immediately after that. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the trip if his hormones are releasing happiness, or if his brain is set so that he has you by his side; it doesn’t matter that much. A long weekend with you feels like a dream after days of working. 

The morning came, and he woke up first, like usual. He got up and left the bed, trying not to make large movements to wake you up, and headed to the bathroom. You shifted your sleeping position like a starfish getting washed away from the shore. Seungmin tilted his head like a curious puppy, seeing you under that creased duvet when he came out. His footsteps dragged him to the huge windows from the ceiling to the floor, and he opened the curtains, welcoming the gentle morning sunshine and making you pull the cover above your head. 

“Baby! ”He called. “Wake up! ” 

“10 minutes.” You groaned when he decided to hover above you and put his weight on your body. “Min! ”You exclaimed, tossing the duvet off of your head and seeing him all smiley. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake up! ”He beamed. The only ones missing are his puppy ears and a wagging tail. 

“So much energy, Min huh?” You asked while caressing his hair. “What happened to Good Morning?” 

“I ate it,” he said, which made you burst out laughing. 

“You look happy, Min.” You answered as Seungmin moved away and helped you sit up. 

“Why wouldn’t I when I’m with you? Besides, we have a lot to do today and so much to eat. I’m sure my heart will be delightful as much as my stomach,” he said. “I found a breakfast place yesterday when we were coming back to the hotel and thought maybe we could try their food. ”Then there go his puppy eyes again. 

“Min, you know, giving me those puppy eyes or not, we’ll do whatever you want at this point. I can’t say no to you.” You huffed in response, making him smirk. 

“You’re so down bad,” he answered while slipping into your flip-flops. 

“Says the one who doesn’t want to wake up from this dream.” You smirked, making him freeze on his spot. 

“You heard? ”He asked, shakingly. 

“Every word, Min, every word,” you answered while making your way to the bathroom. 

“You were awake?! ”He asked, flabbergasted, as you closed the door, leaving him blushing and painting a sly smile on your face. 

Pulling a chair for you to sit on, setting the cutlery on the table properly, wiping the whipped cream excess on the corner of your lips after a bite of a pancake, it went as planned that you visited the breakfast place he mentioned a while ago. The sweet and sour taste of strawberries mixed with the maple syrup and whipped cream indeed, started a blissful morning. Your boyfriend enjoyed it with coffee too albeit the times he said that he’s going to cut off caffeine slowly but you’re sure he won’t be able to do that easily. 

Holding hands while strolling around the neighborhood and shopping for cute things, food, maybe a couple of clothes, and other souvenirs, Seungmin was all up for them as you take a picture in front of a mirror every time you get a chance. You giggle at every picture when you swipe through your gallery. Seungmin never fails to make silly poses and act cute. It became a habit of his and on the other hand, he also does his boyfriend duties like taking candid pictures of you if you weren’t paying attention to him. 

Seungmin’s love is fresh like spring, warm as summer, cool as autumn, and beautiful as winter. His feelings remained like the very first time you left a blush on his cheeks, your heart beating faster the way a doctor could hear it through their stethoscope, and a shot of espresso in the morning. You can’t blame him if he could still feel this way when the love you gave him from the start never changed. Four years is such a long time, yet it passes by like four days. 

Your parents know as much as his. Both agreed and voted for love and devotion. Unbearable fights should be fixed before going to sleep and sealed with a kiss. His friends would tease him, yet they respect you by taming a menace that later became a lovesick, hopeless romantic, Kim Seungmin, who once didn’t believe in forever but wants to spend his eternity with you. 

𖹭 ⁺ FOUR. 

A back hug in the morning while brushing your teeth in the bathroom, having him pick your clothes for the day, and the same goes for him, asking to let him taste the flavor of your lip tint, but in reality, he just wanted a kiss, which sometimes leads to a make-out session where you have to redo your hair and makeup again, always unpredicted. He is just making you speechless all the time. Does having a relationship with Seungmin always feel like that? 

Yes, but at the same time, no. 

The spark in this relationship never dies as you two share the same affection for each other, though there are times that Seungmin is hard to love. But there are times when you and Seungmin have to go through tough times. It comes to its peak, especially when he is at his lowest and has unexpected tantrums, and the toxicity of this affair is on the surface. Seungmin is not the type to make himself vulnerable in front of you; instead, he goes far away and makes excuses for you not to bother him. 

He gives you the silent treatment when he’s upset; he doesn’t want you to see him cry; he doesn’t want to talk about anything, and you hate it. You know he’s the person who would always initiate a conversation when there was something to be talked about and never let anyone sleep unless the problem had been settled. Yet, it’s unusual for you to scream and shout at each other in the middle of the night as one storm out of the room and the other is left with tears in their eyes, confused about what just happened and where it all went wrong. 

Seungmin would always speak up for himself, as long as he was on the right side of the argument. You agree that he gets brutally honest when defending himself, saying that it would hurt you a lot. His words are sharp as knives that can stab you multiple times, and you are just afraid to admit that he always has a point. One thing about him is that he’s mature and mentally strong. He’s like a fire that is hard to wash out when mad (and literally hot). But, on the other hand, he’s careful. There was never a time in your life that he chose not to listen to your every worry, comfort you when you needed it, and reassure you that everything would be fine. He doesn’t invalidate you. 

There was this one time when you had a huge fight about him being linked to a co-worker, and he brushed it off, knowing that nothing was going on between them. He reassured you that he was just being polite, not in a way that he’d tolerate the girl’s actions toward him, but jealousy had taken all over your system, and you closed your ears for every piece of explanation he had. Of course, he got mad as to why you didn’t believe him. The sickening sounds of arguments echoed across the room. Seungmin was hurt, and that was the first time he said something that crushed your soul. 

“If you don’t trust me, then it was such a fucking waste spending four fucking years with you! ” 

“You never admitted I was right, even if you’re wrong! I would always initiate everything first because of your fucking pride! ” 

“Did you ever think that I would cheat on you just because of some stupid girl who can’t understand the words that I have a fucking girlfriend waiting for me at home? ”

“I fucking love you, Y/N, so if we’re going to stand on the ground like this, I think we should think about what’s going to happen in this relationship.” 

“You disappoint me, Y/N.” 

And that’s when he left. You went home to your parents the next day in the province and didn’t even bother to tell anyone, maybe, Seungmin does. The manager at your workplace thought you were just taking sick leave; even your work best friend, Felix, didn’t know what happened or where you were. Seungmin, on the other hand, stayed at his older sister’s apartment and distracted himself from what just happened. He thought about what he said, and it was harsh of him to shoo you away. He was also on leave to take care of himself and his nephew. 

One thing about Seungmin is that he’s open-minded. He didn’t get mad when you introduced your male friends to him; instead, he became friends with them, especially Felix. If he gets jealous, then he knows something is wrong behind his back. Unlike you, who would jump to conclusions because you don’t know what’s going on inside their heads. It’s not like you don’t trust Seungmin at all, but you know how other people can be when no one is watching, and you admit you were so sick of thinking bad about your boyfriend. 

To him, he can throw this relationship away anytime he gets tired, and you admit it was your fault for adding fuel to the fire. But now, you couldn’t face him. You were embarrassed, afraid of losing him, and anxious that he might fall for someone else, or maybe he could fall out of love. There are a lot of possibilities. And yet, Seungmin doesn’t think any of that. He was so upset about how you acted, and he was so damn tired that night, only to be welcomed by false accusations that led you both to cool off. But Seungmin knew that he couldn’t last a few days without your presence. 

And if you’d be honest, you wouldn’t say Seungmin is that walking green flag who is so perfect in front of everyone, neither do you. No one is a green flag. People are just blinded by what they see on the outside and what others say about their partners. You may say that Seungmin is a definition of perfect but not the literal definition of perfect. It is another version of what you see is perfect, a compliment caused by love to remove the flaws from your sight like how your brain dumps unnecessary information to cater to the new ones. There is always that fucking toxicity that they are afraid to admit. 

“Uncle! Uncle! ”Minsoo, his 5-year-old nephew, called. 

“Yes, baby? ”Seungmin’s attention was caught. 

“When is Aunt Y/N visiting? ”Minsoo asked again with those puppy eyes and pouty lips he probably got from his uncle. 

“Yeah. I know you guys are not on good terms right now, but it has been days, bro.” His sister heard and added while slicing some fruits for her son. Minsoo took it immediately and pouted at him even more. 

“Did you and Aunt Y/N fight? ”He asked and was about to cry. Seungmin was panicking inside that he had to lift the young fellow to sit on his lap and sighed heavily. 

“We just had to cool off, okay Bub? When we say cool off, that means we take a break and be alone for some time so we can freshen up and talk later, okay? ”Seungmin was reassured, but Minsoo didn’t buy his statement at first; instead, he became sulky. 

“Aunt Y/N loves you so much,” he murmured. “She said she wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t know what that means, but when you and Aunt Y/N were playing with me at the park because Mom was at work, I could see how happy she was while looking at you. You mean the whole world to her, and mine are Mom’s chicken nuggets and ice cream,” Minsoo frowned. Seungmin didn’t know if he was going to laugh or give a long sigh, but his sister at the kitchen counter giggled before making her way to both of them, placing the fruits on the coffee table. 

“You remember that? ”Seungmin asked. 

“You know Minsoo is quick-witted just like you.” His sister smiled at him. “And he probably loves Y/N more than you too! ” 

“Yes,” Minsoo agreed, which made Seungmin laugh in return with made his sister show a bit of concern. Well, she is concerned. 

“I don’t want to meddle with your business with her, Seungmin, but as someone who is in a longer relationship than you, it happens. I mean, I’m not going to take anyone’s side in this matter since you’re both in the wrong; her not giving full trust, and you snapped at her for it when there’s nothing to hide,” she said as she fed her son with a bite-sized strawberry. “I know my brother doesn’t tolerate such actions, and there’s nothing wrong with calling her out, but you’ve been staying here for days, not working, and crying at night because of whatever reason that you have. Don’t you think it’s time for you to find her? I’m sure she misses you like you do.” 

“I’m always the first one who would initiate making up with her,” Seungmin sighs. “I just want her to realize that she can do it first, you know? Like come up or call me and apologize to me.” 

“I know, but if you’re going to wait for her then it might take some time and you don’t like waiting, I know you.” His sister chuckled. 

“You said you wouldn’t be biased but it feels like you’re siding with her,” Seungmin said looking at his sister, still feeding his nephew. 

“I am not,” She shrugged as he rolled his eyes in return. 

Seungmin did think it through the night after that. He couldn’t sleep and kept tossing and turning. It took him a few days before, finally made that engine roar and traveled to the province. His sister’s husband also talked him through when he got home and shared a few drinks. It may have caused a hangover but he got over it and drove out of the city on a sunny afternoon. 

He rolled up his sleeves as his veiny hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel while trying to reach out for a signal to call you. A heavy sigh escaped his lips when you didn’t answer any of his damn calls. He called Felix instead, asking how you had been but the latter couldn’t answer for he doesn’t know too, even your whereabouts, and he is also worried. 

“Just a sick leave, Lix. I’m not going anywhere but I think I’m going to take some time off from my phone and everything. Don’t worry, I’ll call you when I’m better.” That’s what you told him with that fake smile and red, puffy eyes from crying. Felix let it through and didn’t ask questions. He just went up and gave you the most comforting hug, telling you to be safe and healthy and that you’d call him immediately. 

He rested his elbow by the window while his fingers played with his lips as he drove with one hand, drowning in deep thoughts. After days of no communication, he doesn’t know how to speak with you and makeup. It’s not like it’s his very first time initiating a conversation but this is the very first time that you had to not see each other for days. Mostly fights can be solved in one night but maybe Seungmin grew a bit tired that time. Now he’s nervous. He’s driving his way to your parents’s house and will apologize in front of them and to you. He was expecting a lot. 

Seungmin was frustrated with that information and hissed after Felix dropped the call. He stepped on the gas as the car accelerated through the highway. It would take hours to get there, and he’s hoping he’d find you before the sun goes down.  

He arrived at the hour he expected and parked the car outside of your parents’s house. Seungmin was welcomed by your dad who happened to be taking a stroll around the neighborhood. It was an unexpected visit and Seungmin didn’t give a heads up. He knows it was rude of him to show up unannounced but he didn’t think about it through when all he wanted was to see you. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”  Your father asked him the moment he stepped out of the car. 

“I’m so sorry for coming here unannounced Sir, but I’m here to see Y/N,” Seungmin said with the most respectful bow he ever done. 

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Your father scoffed, crossing his arms on his chest and that’s when your mother showed up after noticing the black car from the front porch. 

“Seungmin? Is that you?” Your mother asked as he approached the men talking at a distance. Seungmin took a glance at her and bowed again. 

“Ma’am.” He said. “I apologize for coming here without telling you in advance. I just thought about coming to see Y/N and apologizeー” But he was stopped when your mother went to hug him and he was caught off guard. He admits it was comforting and reassuring while your dad kept on giving him a death stare. Of course, he knew that he was just being protective of his daughter even though Seungmin is already a legal member of your family. Still. 

“She’s in the field with the cows and horses,” She whispered and pulled away. 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Seungmin said and bowed multiple times before running to the open field. 

𖹭 ⁺ FIVE. 

You were sitting on a swing while looking at the fresh scenery with the air blowing your hair. It has been a while since the last time you were home and you missed life in the province. If it wasn’t for the fight you had with your boyfriend, you wouldn’t be here right now. But you admit you miss Seungmin so much that you think about him, always. And you’ve been thinking about your uncalled behavior that night. 

The cold breeze had lessened the heavy weight that you carried on your shoulders as you thought of a solution on how to make up with him. You know told Felix that you’d take some time off from everything and come back when you’re better. The sick leave was abrupt and you couldn’t wait for your vacation to be approved. You don’t know if you still have a job when you come back but it’s just already been a few days to cool off. And as the cows moo and the horses neigh, you just sat there trying too hard to hold those tears knowing that you fucked this up. You miss Seungmin and not talking to him for the past few days has been hard. He didn’t even contact you after your do-not-disturb mode was off. No texts, no missed calls, no emails, nothing. 

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as your head hung low, watching your feet sway back and forth as you swung. The crowd was quiet, too peaceful, and lonely. Just a bunch of cows and horses around, judging you. Your head was in your hands as you stopped with your elbows on your knees, trying to think of an excuse to text him. Another sigh of frustration was heard when you couldn’t think of anything. But all worries were washed down when you heard someone was approaching you. 

And it was him, the one that you’ve been waiting for. 

“Seungmin?” You called as you stood up from your seat. 

He was catching his breath. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, approaching him as he stopped meters away. 

“Let me breathe for a second,” He said, lifting his index finger in the air as his other hand clutched his chest. 

“Did you run all the way fromー” 

“From your house to here? Yes. Your mother said you’re here and I forgot about how far this is.” He said still catching his breath. “Look, Y/N, I know I fucked up and I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you when you were just worried but believe me, I would never ever cheat on you. And that’s a promise. There’s no one else in my life but you.” Tears started to form in your eyes as Seungmin held your hands and locked eyes with you. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so worked up that I yelled and said those words without holding myself up and not thinking that it would hurt you. And I’m sorry for not calling you these past few days because I was reflecting and I heard from Felix not to disturb you. I hope you forgive me.” He said, pulling you closer to his body and planting a soft kiss on our forehead before taking you all in his armsーhugging you tightly as if he never got to hold you in years. 

“I’m sorry,” You said as you were sobbing on his chest. “I didn’t mean it to be like that I was just paranoid. I know you’re a bad guy, Seungmin. I’m sorry.” 

“Shh, shh it’s okay. We’re both here now.” He said in the softest and sweetest voice he could ever do as he kept on kissing the crown of your head while caressing your hair. “I love you, okay? No one could replace you in my heart, ever.” It made you smile a bit, but you were still guilty about what happened that night. You accused him. 

“Still, I was dumb…” You said. “How could I do that to you when all you did is to love me faithfully.” You added as you looked down on your feet again. Seungmin took a deep breath as a smile curved on his lips, taking his fingers on your chin as he lifted your head gently to look at him in the eyes again. 

“You are not dumb. Don’t say that to yourself, okay? I know it’s hard to trust us men these days because of the cheating culture but don’t ever think of me that way, baby, okay? Like I said, no one could ever replace you in my heart even if you think otherwise. I’m true and I’m standing my ground. Even if your father wants to shoot me, I will take the bullet to prove how much I am true to you.” And it only made you cry more. How could someone be as comforting, endearing, and perfect as him? “And I don’t blame you for thinking so, but, I hope you wouldn’t think about me like that again. It hurts, you know?” You nodded in response. 

“I’m sorry,” You said. 

“We’re good now, love.” He smiled, giving you a quick kiss on your lips. 

“I have something to say,” You said, looking at him. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“The last few days, I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” You started while playing with your fingers. “I know I played a huge part of the problem and taking some time off made me realize how I was so fucked up that night. I swear, that wasn’t me who was talking but I was just afraid that maybe one day, you’d leave me because I was the one who called you in public to confess four years ago because I fucking love you so much that I would die if you’re not going to be mine.” Seungmin stood just there, amused and in awe of what you’ve said, and now you’re thinking that he might be thinking that you’re crazy but he’s yours now. No one could ever take Seungmin from you. 

“I know, I’m crazy and there’s a lot of me that are yet to be relieved. I don’t know what caused that argument maybe that stupid bitch and I’m guilty, okay? I just wanted to let everything out of my chest before we proceeded to this relationship that I almost ruined. I overthink too much, I am selfish sometimes, and I hurt you a lot, I made you cry, I was the reason you snapped at me, I’ve got a lot of crazy things inside my head and it’s making me go insane…” The rest of the words became a blur to Seungmin. He doesn’t need to hear everything as he admired the way you vent out and you were so cute walking in circles just to explain yourself. That didn’t matter now. You are the most beautiful person in his world. 

He pulled you towards him again as he crashed his lips against yours, kissing you passionately as his hand cupped your cheek and the other snaked around your waist. It was unexpected. You both stood on the wide green grass field with the cows and horses as the audience as you shared a kiss under an orange sky and a bright sunset. 

The kiss deepened as your eyes closed, feeling the intimate and adrenaline kind of rush that Seungmin’s lips have brought. It was tentative, soft, and hot, both of your hearts were pounding with every bit of movement and rhythm. His thumb started caressing your cheekbones gently as he pulled you even closer to engage the feeling of longing to kiss your lips and the warmth you’d always give. You could feel his hot breath against your nose as your fingers entangled with his black locks, playing with them. Seungmin smiled in between your lips before leaving a soft peck on it and proceeded to kiss your forehead. 

“If you’re that worried, marry me.” He said as you both pulled away. 

“W-what?” You asked as you got caught off guard. 

“I know you’d say something like that but again, if you’re worried that much then,” He paused as he took out a small box from his pocket and went down on one knee. “Marry me.” He added, opening the box to reveal a ring with an authentic sapphire on it. Your hands went to cover your mouth in shock as tears started to stream down to your cheeks. What the fuck, Kim Seungmin. 

“You already know how much I love you and to make a seal of this relationship, this is a promise that we will love and trust each other no matter what happens. You don’t have to worry about it anymore, Y/N. Marry me so you’d be officially mine and I’ll be legally yours.” He said. “Will youー” 

“Yes! Yes fuck yes!” You cried as you went down on your knees and hugged him tight. Seungmin giggled at the sight as he pulled out the ring from the box and gently placed it around your ring finger after you pulled away. 

“I love you,” You told him, eyes filled with tears as he wiped them off with his thumbs. 

“I love you too.” He said. “More than anything in this world,” He added as he hugged you again. 

“I’ll forever cherish this moment, love.” 

“Me too, baby…” He replied, hugging you tight. “And we should go now, your dad was glaring at me when I arrived.” 

“You came all over from Seoul to here without saying anything, he was probably surprised.” You answered as you both went back on your feet with Seungmin grabbing the small box and giving it to you to place the second ring on his finger. 

“I did it for you.” He said, stealing a kiss on your lips. 

“Don’t make me say, I love you, twice.” You said as you gave him another kiss. 

“You just did,” He smirked as you both giggled at the end and went back to your parents’ houseーhappy about what just happened. 

Bonus: His sister sent you a video of him when he was so drunk, crying and wailing to his brother-in-law about how much he loves and misses you. He also bought the ring after the trip when he realized that he was ready to settle down. Seungmin was sure that you’re the one he’s going to marry anyway, no one else. 

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©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[mononijikayu]

wildflower— nanami kento.

Your breath caught in your throat. “I—” “Do you have any idea how brilliant you are?” His voice was trembling now, thick with emotion. “You were always the smartest person in the room. You deserved to get out of here….to have everything you ever dreamed of. And instead… you stayed. You gave it all up. Why?” Tears burned the back of your eyes. “Because I didn’t have a choice, Kento.” “Yes, you did.” His voice cracked. “You could have told me. You could have called me. I would’ve—” “You would’ve what, Kento?” you choked. “Fixed my life for me? Paid my bills? Dragged me to Tokyo and pretended like I belonged in your world?” His jaw clenched. “You do belong in my world.”

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, use of she/her pronouns, romance, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hurt, love, fluff, humor, light-hearted, long-term relationship, marriage, loss, emotional distress, hatred, resentment, domestic, confessions, getting together, friends, slice of life, childhood friends, distress, cheating, falling out of love, toxic relationship, drama, depression, bitterness, grief, trauma, pregnancy, explicit birthing scene, illness, post-partum depression, bodily fluids, children, therapy, explicit depiction of birthing, depiction of bodily fluids, depiction of post-partum depression, mention of blood, mention of birthing, mention of bodily fluids, mention of depression, actor! nanami, housewife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 18k words

NOTE: this took a while and im a bit sick all the sudden but i realized i have to put this out so i just decided to go on and post this. anyway, i hope you enjoy this. ready the tissue for this, its a crier. i love you all so much <3

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the good life ― masterlist.

IT WAS HARD NOT TO KNOW WHAT EVERYTHING MEANS AFTER TWENTY YEARS OF MARRIAGE. After all that time, wouldn’t you know much about the person you were married to? This moment was not an exemption, of course. You were his wife, you knew everything about him. You just had to know.

So, as you stood there, looking at him, you knew that look. That look in Kento's caramel eyes as he’s putting on his suit. The quiet resignation. The practiced ease of sliding the tie around his neck, smoothing down his shirt, adjusting the cufflinks. Like a man preparing to go to war — except it isn’t war. It’s something worse. You knew that much.

You hum softly, curled up on the couch, and watch him from across the room. He doesn’t notice you at first, too focused on making himself presentable. Like it matters. Like any of it matters. You know where he’s going. You’ve always known.

It’s something you never said out loud, not in the past twenty years, not when the nights stretched long and lonely, not when his touch began to feel like an apology instead of love. You haven’t said a word, and he hasn’t either.

But you know all about it already.

There was no need for such words.

There was no need for anything else.

You know because when he turns around, there’s that smile all over again. That smile you fell in love with all those years ago. It was that loving, gentle smile. Strained by the weariness, the tired, and the painfully distant bitterness that dwelled over time on his face. 

And then besides that, he lies. 

He always has to know how to lie.

He was an actor by trade, after all.

"I’ll be home late, baby." he says like it means nothing, like it’s any other day. His voice doesn’t crack. His eyes don’t betray him. But you see it. You always do. And it kills you a little more each time. 

You know he loves you. It’s never been a question of love. It’s always been a question of truth. And the truth is, love doesn’t stop him from leaving. The truth is, love doesn’t make him stay. The truth is, he’s already gone before he’s out the door.

And sometimes you want to kill him for it. Even if you don’t want to, you think about it often. You think about wanting to just be angry and let yourself loose into the madness of it all. You wanted to go and have something for yourself. Even if that was a life, even if it was his life. After all that you had suffered and endured, don’t you deserve it? Don’t you deserve to take his life?

For the silence. For the way he pretends. For the way you let him. For the way you can’t bring yourself to break it all apart because maybe —just maybe— if you keep pretending, too, it’ll hurt less.

You don’t say a word when he leans down to kiss your temple as gently as he could, as lovingly as he could. You don’t flinch, you don’t cling. You don’t beg him to stay. You just hum again, quieter this time, and watch him leave like you have a hundred times before. 

And when the door closes behind him, the sound is deafening.

You stare at the door long after he's gone. Like if you watch long enough, he'll come back. Like if you sit still enough, you'll hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway. But silence is all that answers you. Silence, and the faint hum of the clock that ticks louder with every passing second.

Your hands twitch against your lap, curling into fists before releasing again. You wonder if tonight it'll be different, if he'll come home and tell you the truth. If he'll break, just once, and tell you what you already know. That there’s someone else. That his heart no longer belongs here, with you.

But it never happens. It’s never happened.

You get up after a while, wandering through the house like a ghost. You pass by the photos on the walls. The framed moments of happiness frozen in time. His smile in those pictures looks real. Like he didn’t know back then what would become of you both. You touch one of the frames, trailing your finger down his face. It feels cruel now, looking at those captured memories.

The bed feels colder when you climb in alone. You face his side, the sheets still perfectly made, undisturbed by the weight of his body. You press your face into his pillow, breathing him in. You think, for a fleeting second, that if you cry hard enough, he might feel it from wherever he is and come home.

But you don’t cry. You’ve already wasted too many nights crying. Instead, you just wait. 

Because that's all you know how to do now. Wait. And love him. And hate him a little, too.

THE STORY STARTS EVEN BEFORE THAT. You and Nanami Kento grew up together. Two kids from two very different worlds — he is filled with wealth and privilege, you were with struggle and scarcity. His parents lived in a grand, pristine house, while you lived in a cramped apartment that barely stayed warm in the winter.

His clothes were always crisp and clean, and yours were worn out and patched up. From the moment you realized just how different your lives were, you knew people like you didn’t belong in his world.

And the world didn’t hesitate to remind you of that. The neighborhood kids who ran in the same circles as Nanami never let you forget it. They whispered when you came around, made faces when you approached, and laughed when you walked away. 

“Why do you let her hang around you?” they’d ask him. “She doesn't fit in with us.” 

But Nanami Kento never wavered. Not once. Not ever.

“She’s my friend.” he’d say, firm and unwavering.

And that was all it took.

It didn’t matter if your shoes had holes or if your hands were rough from helping your family with chores. It didn’t matter that you didn’t have expensive toys or that you couldn’t bring lunch to school some days. 

Kento always shared this with you. He always liked making sure you were as full as him. So he would go and split his neatly packed bento in half and hand you the bigger portion without a second thought. 

You’d protest, of course, but he’d only shrug and say, “I wasn’t that hungry anyway.” 

You knew it was a lie.

Even back then, he always lied.

And he smiles all the same.

He always did that, giving without asking for anything in return, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And you valued him more than anything because of it. But what you didn’t realize was how deeply it had settled in your bones. The way you looked at him, the way you cherished him, the way you loved him.

It wasn’t like one day you just woke up and decided to love Nanami Kento. No, it was a gradual thing. Like the warmth of the sun slowly rising over the horizon. It happened on the days he’d sneak away from his house to find you playing in the dirt, unbothered by the stares of his so-called friends. 

It happened when he’d walk you home after school, insisting it was just on the way when it wasn’t. It happened when you were crying after your father came home drunk again, and Nanami held your hand quietly, letting you cry into his shoulder without a word.

It happened every time he chose you.

And because of that, because he never treated you like you were less than him, because he never made you feel like you didn’t belong — you fell in love with him. Quietly. Deeply. Hopelessly. Truthfully. 

But you never said a word about it. How could you?

You were still just you. You were unimportant, rough around the edges, struggling to keep your life from falling apart. And he was Nanami Kento, brighter than the sun itself. He was polished, brilliant, and destined for a life far better than the one you could ever give him. 

Loving him felt like holding sunlight in your hands. 

It was beautiful, but impossible to keep.

And so you stifled it, you swallowed it down. 

You smiled when he spoke of his future. Of traveling abroad, of making something of himself — and you ignored the ache in your chest. You told yourself it was enough to simply have him in your life, even if you could never have his heart. But deep down, you knew.

One day, he’d leave. 

He’d outgrow this town. 

He’d outgrow you. 

You’d be left where you always were. You would be standing in the shadow of his light, loving him from a distance. You knew that even if he leaves, even if he doesn’t stay. You would love him all the same.

WHEN THAT DAY CAME, YOU HADN’T EXPECTED IT. You were sixteen when Nanami Kento told you he was leaving. He had gotten accepted into a prestigious school overseas. One that would guarantee him a promising future. His parents were thrilled. His friends envied him. 

Everyone around him kept saying to him — You’ll do great things, Nanami. You’re destined for success.

But all you could hear was the sound of your own heart breaking. Yet you didn’t want it to be broken down out loud.  So, you decided to go and smile all about it. It was better this way, you think to yourself. He, after all, deserved better than you.

He found you later that evening, sitting on the rusted swing set in the small park where you two always met. You already knew what he was going to say. You could see it in his eyes — a mixture of excitement and guilt.

“I’m leaving.” he finally said, voice quiet. “I got accepted into a school in Denmark.”

You forced a smile, ignoring the lump in your throat. “That’s… that’s amazing, Kento. Really. I’m happy for you.”

But you weren’t. 

God, you weren’t.

“I’ll only be gone for a couple of years, you know.” he tried to reassure you. “I’ll visit during the holidays. And we can write letters—”

“Yeah, I know.” you cut him off, still smiling. “We’ll stay in touch. Like we used to.”

But deep down, you knew better. People like you didn’t get to stay in the lives of people like him. Nanami Kento was destined for bigger and better things, all these things that didn’t include you. And you hated yourself for thinking that way.

So instead of breaking down, instead of begging him to stay, you spent your remaining days together trying to memorize everything about him. The way his blond hair would fall over his forehead when he was deep in thought. 

The sound of his laugh when you said something ridiculous. The warmth of his hand whenever it brushed against yours. You burned it all into your memory, knowing it was the closest you’d ever get to having him. 

And then like the wind, that day came in a sudden push.

You didn’t cry when you said goodbye to him at the train station. 

You didn’t flinch when he pulled you into a tight hug and whispered, “I’ll see you soon.” 

You didn’t break down when you watched the train pull away, carrying him farther and farther from you. But that night, when you were alone in your bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling — you sobbed until your throat was raw. Because you knew.

You knew that he’s not coming back.

Maybe not intentionally, maybe he would write you a few letters, maybe he would visit during the holidays but eventually, the distance would settle in. He’d meet new people, make new friends, build a new life. 

And you? You’d still be here, stuck in the same town, living the same hard life you always had. You didn’t blame him. How could you? He deserved better. Yet you told yourself that you’d get over him. That the ache in your chest would eventually fade. That you’d move on.

But you never did.

The letters came at first. Handwritten, neat, and always signed, Kento. 

He’d tell you about the classes he was taking, the places he was visiting, the new friends he was making. And you’d read every word, trying to picture him in that new world of his — a world you didn’t belong to. You always write back, of course. But your letters were never as exciting. What were you supposed to say? 

Hey, I’m still working two part-time jobs to help my mom make rent. Our fridge broke again last week, but it’s fine. I’ve gotten used to eating once a day. 

No. Instead, you lied. You told him you were doing fine, that life was okay, that you were just happy to hear from him. But as the months went on, the letters became less frequent. And then, eventually, they stopped altogether. And that was it.

Nanami Kento became a part of your past.

He was just another thing you had to let go of.

Yet you think about it now, you should have let go.

You should have let it all be.

IT WAS QUITE A SURPRISE, NOT ONE WHICH YOU HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT. You didn’t know he became an actor. The Nanami Kento standing in front of you now. He was still quite as polished, poised, and impossibly handsome as he was.

And yet, he was a far cry from the boy you used to know. But it was still him, he was all the same. Same deep voice. Same gentle gaze. Same presence that made the world feel a little less heavy.

And yet, there was something else too. A distance. 

Like he didn’t quite belong here anymore.

It was like he had outgrown this town, just as you always knew he would.

“Kento, oh wow….” you managed, trying not to let your voice shake. “I… I didn’t know you were back.”

His smile faltered slightly, like he was trying to keep his composure. “Just for a few days. I had some… time off.”

You didn’t miss the way his caramel eyes swept over you. From your wrinkled convenience store uniform to the worn-out shoes on your feet. It was subtle, but you saw it. And it made your stomach twist in shame.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, carefully. Like he was afraid of the answer.

You forced a small laugh, waving a hand. “You know… same old, same old. Nothing much has changed.”

Lie. Everything had changed. You were still here, yes. You were still in the same town, still in the same life — but it felt different now. Colder. Like the weight of the world had settled heavier on your shoulders after he left. And it didn’t escape Kento’s notice.

You were supposed to be somewhere else. He knew that. Out of everyone he’d ever known, you were the smartest. You were the sharpest, the most capable, the one who always dreamed bigger than the town could ever hold. 

You used to talk about it all the time — the places you wanted to go, the life you wanted to build. You were supposed to go to college. You were supposed to do great things. And yet here you were. Stuck. In this town. Wearing a faded uniform and a name tag, working a dead-end job.

Why? Why are you still here, suffering like this?

“So, uh….” you cleared your throat, forcing a smile. “How’s Denmark? Or… wait. Are you still there?”

“No, no. I don’t live there.” he answered, his voice quieter now. “I, uh… I moved to Tokyo. For work.”

“Work?” you tilted your head.

And that’s when you saw it. The subtle shift in his stance. 

Like he was bracing himself for something.

“...I’m an actor now,” he admitted, almost sheepishly.

You blinked. “Wait — like… on TV?”

“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little uncomfortable. “Film, mostly. I’ve done a few series too.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’re kidding.”

He chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. “I’m not. It just… happened, I guess.”

Of course it did, you thought bitterly. Because that’s what people like him did. They left, they made something of themselves, and they became untouchable. Meanwhile, people like you stayed exactly where they were rooted in place, forgotten, ordinary.

“That’s… amazing, Kento. Really.” You smiled, even though it burned your throat. “I’m happy for you.”

But Nanami Kento couldn’t find it in himself to smile back. 

Because all he could think about was how wrong this felt.

You’re supposed to be the one out there, he thought. You were always the brilliant one. You were supposed to leave this town — not me. You were supposed to make something of yourself.

Instead, you were still here in this wretched place. In a store that smelled faintly of stale bread and cleaning supplies. Ringing up snacks for high schoolers who would eventually leave you behind just like everyone else did.

“You’re still working here?” he asked softly, his voice careful.

“Yeah. Been here for a couple of years now.” You shrugged like it was nothing. “Pays the bills.”

His stomach twisted at your words all the sudden. “What about school?” he asked. “You… you were supposed to go to college, right? Didn’t you get accepted somewhere?”

You froze. For a brief moment, the smile cracked on your face. But you stitched it back together quickly. “Ah, yeah… I did. But, you know. Life happens.”

Lie, again, huh?

The truth was that you did get accepted. To a top university in Tokyo, actually. But your mom lost her job the same week you got the acceptance letter. Rent fell behind. Bills piled up. And you did what you always did — you stayed. 

You got a job, dropped out before you even started, and spent the next few years trying to keep your family afloat. You did everything you could to help your family to survive. You abandoned everything to survive. But you didn’t tell Kento that. You couldn’t.

“Anyway, uh….” you deflected, forcing some cheer into your voice, “I’m sure you’ve got somewhere to be. Don’t let me keep you.”

But Nanami Kento didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

Because he couldn’t stop staring at you. He couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong this was. The person he loved most in this world, the one who deserved everything was still here, stuck, while he was out there living a dream he never even wanted in the first place.

And he hated it. 

God, he hated it.

“…Have dinner with me, at least.” he blurted out suddenly.

Your head snapped up. “What?”

“Dinner. Tonight.” His voice was steadier now. “I want to catch up.”

You hesitated. “Kento, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His gaze softened. “Please.”

And maybe it was because you were too tired to argue. Or maybe it was because, despite everything, you still loved him. So you gave in. “…Okay. Yeah. Dinner sounds nice.”

And for the first time since he left, Kento felt like he could breathe again.

That night, he picked you up from your small apartment. You tried to dress nicer, but you didn’t have much to work with. It was just a worn-out dress you hadn’t touched in years. When you opened the door and saw him standing there in a tailored coat and polished shoes, you almost told him to forget it.

But Kento only smiled and said, “You look beautiful.”

And God, you hated how much you still loved him.

Dinner was… nostalgic. You talked about old memories, laughed about stupid things you did as kids. But Kento couldn’t stop noticing how guarded you were. How carefully you danced around your life now.

Never mentioning anything too personal, never hinting at how hard things really were. And when the night was over, when he walked you back to your door, he couldn’t help himself.

“…Why did you stay?” he finally asked.

You froze, your hand on the doorknob. “…What?”

“You were supposed to leave this town, you know.” he said, voice cracking slightly. “You were supposed to go to college. Travel. Do everything you always talked about. So… why didn’t you?”

You hesitated. But then you smiled soft and hollow. “Someone had to stay and take care of things.”

And before he could ask what you meant, you gave him one last smile and said. “Goodnight, Kento.”

Then you closed the door. And Kento stood there, staring at the chipped paint on your doorframe, his heart breaking all over again. Because the person he loved most in this world was still stuck in a place she was never meant to stay.

And he didn’t know how to fix it.

NOT A WINK OF SLEEP THAT NIGHT ONCE AGAIN. After you closed the door on Kento, you leaned against it, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest.

You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, still hear the tenderness in his voice when he said you looked beautiful. It was like he still saw you the way he did when you were kids. Like time and distance hadn’t changed a thing.

But it had.  You weren’t the same girl you used to be. And he wasn’t the same boy who once shared his lunch with you. He was Nanami Kento now, an actor, a star, someone the world adored. And you? You were still here. Working a dead-end job, carrying the weight of your family’s survival on your back, and holding onto the ghost of a love you never confessed.

So why did it feel like he was still yours?

Why did it still hurt like hell to let him go?

On the other side of that door, Kento didn’t move for a long time. He just stood there, still staring at the door you closed between you two and felt his throat tighten with a kind of pain he hadn’t experienced in years. 

Because no matter how much you smiled that night, no matter how light you tried to make your voice sound, he saw it. The exhaustion in your eyes. The tension in your shoulders. The carefully crafted responses designed to keep him from knowing the truth. You were struggling. And it killed him.

Because you were the smartest person he knew. You were supposed to be miles away from this town, pursuing the future you always dreamed of. You were supposed to be untouchable, unstoppable, radiant. But instead… you were here. Tired. Small. Dimming under the weight of a life that never stopped asking more from you.

And Kento couldn’t stand it. The thought of going back to Tokyo, of returning to his world of flashing cameras, scripts, and fame while you were stuck here, surviving day by day, made him physically ill.

I should have taken you with me, he thought bitterly. I never should have left you here.

And that’s when he decided — he wasn’t leaving without you this time.

He didn’t care what it took. He didn’t care if you pushed him away. He didn’t care if you convinced yourself you didn’t belong in his world anymore. He would break down every wall you built around yourself if it meant pulling you out of this life.

Because the truth was he never stopped loving you.

And he’d be damned if he lost you a second time. The next day, you were working your usual shift when the doorbell chimed and you didn’t need to look up to know who it was. You felt it before you even saw him. 

“…Kento.” You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “What are you doing here?”

He looked painfully out of place in the small convenience store. He was dressed in a dark coat, hair perfectly styled, standing taller and broader than you remembered. It was almost laughable. This man who graced movie screens and magazine covers standing in the middle of your dusty workplace like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Thought I’d stop by today.” he said simply. “I was hoping to see you.”

Your stomach twisted painfully. Don’t do this, Kento.

“I, uh… I’m working on the floor.” you stammered. “Can’t really chat right now.”

“I’ll wait.”

You blinked. “…What?”

“I’ll wait until your shift is over.” he said, completely serious. “Then we’ll grab dinner. My treat.”

“Kento—”

“Don’t say no.” His voice was soft, but firm. “Please.”

And God, you almost did. You almost told him no. You almost told him to leave you alone, that you didn’t want him to see you like this anymore, that you couldn’t handle standing next to him and being reminded of how far apart your lives had become.

But you didn’t. Because deep down, you still craved him.

You craved his voice, his touch, his presence. 

Even if it hurts you just do it all over again.

“…Okay.”

The night air was cold, but his coat was warm. Somewhere between dinner and walking you home, Kento had shrugged off his expensive wool coat and draped it around your shoulders without hesitation. You tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“Don’t argue with me about this, please.” he murmured, his hand lingering against your arm a little too long.

It was dangerous being this close to him again. 

But you couldn’t pull away from him.

“So….” you forced lightness into your voice. “What’s it like being famous?”

He scoffed. “Overrated.”

You laughed softly. “Oh, come on. You’re on billboards now. You can’t tell me it’s not a little amazing.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” His voice was distant. “Not if you’re not there to see it.”

Your steps faltered. “…What?”

Kento stopped walking — turning to face you, his expression unreadable. “I thought about you every day.” he confessed, his voice raw. 

“Kento—”

“The entire time I was gone. I kept wondering what you were doing, if you were okay, if you were happy.” His throat bobbed. “And every time I came back home, I hoped I’d see you, but you were always gone. I… I didn’t know if you wanted to see me again.”

You felt your heart crack open. “Kento…”

“Why didn’t you tell me you stayed?” His voice broke slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you never went to college?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I—”

“Do you have any idea how brilliant you are?” His voice was trembling now, thick with emotion. “You were always the smartest person in the room. You deserved to get out of here….to have everything you ever dreamed of. And instead… you stayed. You gave it all up. Why?”

Tears burned the back of your eyes. “Because I didn’t have a choice, Kento.”

“Yes, you did.” His voice cracked. “You could have told me. You could have called me. I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what, Kento?” you choked. “Fixed my life for me? Paid my bills? Dragged me to Tokyo and pretended like I belonged in your world?”

His jaw clenched. “You do belong in my world.”

“No, I don’t.” you snapped, tears finally spilling over. “Look at me. I’ve been stuck in the same place since you left. I’m still living paycheck to paycheck. I didn’t finish school. I’ve done nothing with my life. And you—” your voice cracked painfully. “You’ve become everything you were meant to be.”

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

“I didn’t want any of it.” His voice was barely a whisper.

You froze. “…What?”

Kento swallowed hard. “I didn’t want fame. The career. The spotlight. I didn’t want any of it. The only thing I ever wanted was you—and I thought… I thought if I made something of myself, you’d still be here when I came back.” His voice cracked. “But you weren’t. And I hated myself for leaving you behind.”

Your knees almost buckled.

“And now that I’m here, with you.” his voice broke. "I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Tears poured freely down your face. “Kento, don’t—”

“Come with me.” He took a step closer, his hands trembling as they cradled your face. “Come to Tokyo. Stay with me. I’ll pay for your school, I’ll—”

“No!” you sobbed, pulling away. “I’m not your responsibility, Kento—”

“You’re not a responsibility, nor a liability.” his voice cracked. “You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart shattered. And before you could protest again, his mouth was on yours. Desperate, burning, like he was trying to make up for every single day he spent without you. His hands cradled your face, his kiss messy and filled with heartbreak. When he finally pulled away, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Please.” he whispered, voice wrecked. “Let me take you away from here. Let me love you the way I always should have.”

For the first time in years, you let yourself sob in his arms.

Because despite everything, you loved him more than anything in this world.

Despite the distance, the pain, and the time lost, you never stopped loving him either.

And maybe… just maybe… he could still save you.

YOU COULD REMEMBER THE WAY IT RAINED WHEN YOU GOT MARRIED. Not a heavy storm — just a soft, steady drizzle, as if the sky itself was quietly weeping with joy. You stood in a small, intimate venue with that beautiful smile on your face.

Both of you of you surrounded by only a few close friends and family, wearing the simplest white dress you could afford because despite Kento’s insistence that he’d buy you the most extravagant gown in Tokyo, you refused.

“I don’t need anything fancy, you know.” you told him. “I just need you.”

And so there you stood with your fingers trembling, heart racing as Kento watched you walk down the aisle like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. His jaw was tight, his caramel eyes glassy with unshed tears, like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Like he couldn’t believe, after all those years apart, you were finally becoming his wife.

When you finally reached him, his hand grasped yours like a lifeline. 

His thumb trembled as it brushed against your skin, and when he whispered, “You’re beautiful.” his voice cracked.

And when the officiant asked if he took you as his wife, Kento didn’t hesitate one bit as he looked at you with the warmest gazes. “I do.” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I always have.”

Kento never let you go after that.

You moved into his apartment in Tokyo. It was a spacious, light-filled place with floor-to-ceiling windows and a breathtaking view of the city. It was bigger than anything you’d ever lived in, and it almost made you uncomfortable at first.

But Kento never let you feel like you didn’t belong.

“This is our home now, hm?” he told you softly one night as you stood by the window, still struggling to wrap your head around it all. “Not just mine. Ours.”

And you believed him. Because every time he came home from a shoot, tired, disheveled, and smelling like expensive cologne — the first thing he did was find you. 

\Whether you were in the kitchen, the bedroom, or curled up in the living room studying, he always sought you out, kissing you like it was the first time every time.

“My wife.” he’d murmur against your lips, as if the words themselves tasted sweet. “My beautiful wife.”

And every time, your heart would ache with disbelief. Because this was real. You were really married to him. You really woke up to him every morning. His arm draped around your waist, his face buried in your neck and he really loved you like you were the most precious thing in the world. But Kento wasn’t done giving you the life you deserved.

“Tokyo University.” he said one night, casually, like it wasn’t the single most outrageous thing you’d ever heard.

You froze mid-bite. “…What?”

“I want you to apply, like you did a long time ago.” he said simply, sitting across from you at the dinner table. “You always wanted to study chemistry. Now’s your chance.”

Your throat tightened. “Kento… I can’t. I haven’t been in school for years. I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can.” His voice was firm but gentle. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever known. Don’t tell me you can’t do it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “But the tuition—”

“I’ll pay for it.”

Your head snapped up. “Kento, no—”

“Yes.” His gaze was unwavering. “I’ll pay for every single yen. I’ll cover your tuition, your textbooks, your lab fees. Everything. You won’t have to worry about anything.” His voice softened. “Please. Let me do this for you.”

Tears burned your eyes. “I don’t want to feel like a burden to you, Kento.”

“You’re not a burden, never will be.” he said fiercely, already pushing his chair back so he could kneel in front of you. His large hands cupped your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “You’re my wife. Everything I have is yours. My money, my time, my life. It’s all yours. And if it means giving you the future you always dreamed of, then I’ll do it a thousand times over.”

And with that, you broke down. You sobbed into his chest, clutching him like your life depended on it, because you realized Kento meant it. Every word. Every promise. He was going to build you a life so beautiful, so far removed from the pain you endured, that you’d never have to feel unworthy again.

So the next day, you applied. And Kento wrote the check without blinking an eye. 

You could still remember months later, the day you got accepted into Tokyo University, you burst into tears. You were in the kitchen when the letter arrived, your hands trembling as you tore it open and the second you saw “Congratulations, you’ve been accepted!”

You collapsed onto the floor, sobbing.

“Kento, Kento!” you choked, clutching the letter like it was your lifeline. “I got in! Oh god…. I got in!”

Kento was on you in seconds, kneeling beside you, his face crumpling with pride. “I told you. I told you, baby!” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I told you you could do it.”

And that night, he took you out to dinner, something extravagant, something you never would have been able to afford on your own. When the waiter congratulated you, Kento beamed like he was the one who got accepted.

“Her, it was her who got in.” he told the waiter proudly. “That’s my wife. She’s going to Tokyo University for chemistry. Smartest woman I’ve ever met.”

And when you glanced at him, with those eyes glassy, heart full, you realized he wasn’t just proud. He was in awe of you. Like he always had been. 

And for a while, it was perfect.

Life slipped into something sweet and steady. You were a university student again, just like you’d always dreamed. You spent your days attending lectures, taking meticulous notes, and spending long afternoons in the library surrounded by textbooks and the faint smell of old paper. You were learning again. Living again. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you.

And Kento? God, he was your biggest cheerleader.

Every morning before you left for class, he kissed you on the forehead and said, “Knock ‘em dead, love.” 

Every night when you came home, exhausted but fulfilled, he had dinner ready and waiting. When you showed him your test scores, perfect marks, one after another. Your husband would beam with pride like he was the one who’d aced the exam. 

When you complained about a difficult professor or a tedious lab experiment, he’d listen intently, rubbing circles into your back, and say, “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

And every night, when you fell asleep beside him, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope. But then —slowly, quietly— the loneliness crept in. Because Kento wasn’t home most of the time.

At first, you didn’t notice. You were busy, after all. You were drowning in lab reports, study sessions, and back-to-back classes. But then you started realizing how quiet the apartment felt when you got home. You’d unlock the door, expecting to hear the hum of the television or Kento’s soft humming in the kitchen but it was always silent. Always empty.

You told yourself it was fine. That was just how it was going to be sometimes. Your Kento was working hard, just like you were. It was only temporary. But weeks passed. Then months. And Kento started coming home later and later.

At first, it was 8 PM. Then 9. Then 10. And soon, there were nights where he didn’t come home at all, just a brief, apologetic text. “Late meeting. Don’t wait for me. Love you.”

And you tried to be understanding. You tried. After all, Kento was the one supporting you. He was paying your tuition, your textbooks, your transportation — everything. He was shouldering the entire financial weight of your dream without a single complaint. The least you could do was be patient.

But good god, it was so lonely.

You’d eat dinner alone most nights, your plate growing cold as you stared at the empty seat across from you. You’d do your assignments at the kitchen table, hoping to hear the jingle of his keys at the door  but it never came. You started sleeping alone more often than not, his side of the bed cold and untouched.

And worst of all you missed him.

You missed Kento. You missed the man who used to laugh with you until your stomach hurt. 

The man who used to kiss you breathless in the middle of the kitchen just because he could. 

The man who used to touch your belly every night and whisper. “I can’t wait to meet our baby.” 

The man who promised you. “I’ll always put you first.”

But now? You were starting to feel like you’d lost him. And then came the night that broke you.

It was well past midnight, and you were curled up on the couch, your textbooks sprawled around you. You told yourself you wouldn’t wait up for him, but you did. You always did. Hours passed, and still — no sign of him. Finally, at 1:27 AM, you heard the door unlock.

“Kento?” you called, your voice cracking.

He didn’t answer right away. When he finally stepped into the living room, his tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the exhaustion in his eyes was so deep it made your chest ache.

“Hey.” he murmured, already walking past you toward the bedroom.

And something in you snapped.

“Seriously?” you blurted. “That’s all you have to say?”

Kento froze, his hand still on the doorframe. “…What?”

You stood, your heart pounding. “You’ve been gone all day again. And you just walk in like I don’t even exist?”

He turned to you, confused. “I—I’m sorry. Work ran late—”

“It always runs late, Kento!” your voice cracked, hot tears stinging your eyes. “Every night, I sit here alone. I eat alone. I sleep alone. Do you even realize how lonely it is to come home to an empty apartment every single day?”

Pain flickered across his face. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m doing this for you, love. I’m working so you can go to school—”

“I never asked you to do that!” you shouted, and the second the words left your mouth, you regretted them.

Kento blinked, stunned. “…What?”

Your chest heaved. “I never asked you to throw your entire life away for me, Kento! I never asked you to quit your project, or work insane hours, or pay for everything. You just did it. And now it’s like I don’t even have a husband anymore. I just have this… ghost who comes home at 2 AM and leaves before I wake up!”

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

Kento’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. “…You think I want this?”

You froze. “…What?”

“You think I like working sixteen-hour days?” his voice cracked, raw and strained. “You think I enjoy being away from you? Missing dinner, missing sleep, missing everything…..you think any of this is what I wanted?”

Your throat tightened. “Kento—”

“I did it for you, you know that.” he said bitterly. “I did it so you wouldn’t have to worry about money. I did it so you could chase your dream without worrying about bills or tuition. I did it because I thought it would make you happy.” His voice cracked. “But you’re not, are you?”

Tears blurred your vision. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he laughed hollowly, running a hand down his face. “I work until I can’t see straight just to keep everything together and you still think I’m not doing enough.”

“That’s not true at all!”

“Then what do you want from me, love?” his voice finally broke, desperate and shattered. “Tell me. Please. What do you want?”

And the answer was so painfully simple, it tore you apart.

I just want you.

But you couldn’t say it. Because how could you ask that of him when he’d already given you everything? When he was breaking his back just to keep you afloat? When he’d already sacrificed his career, his sleep, his time, his life for you?

So instead, you just cried and cried.

And for the first time in your marriage, Kento didn’t comfort you.

He just turned away, defeated, and said, “I’m going to bed.”

And you realized somewhere along the way, you and Kento had become strangers for the first time.

And it hurts like hell to live with that thought.

But of course, it wouldn’t be the last time.

THINGS DID NOT GET BETTER.  If anything, they got worse. You were pregnant. And everything was hurting. It was a different kind of pain now, not just the crushing weight of your depression, but something more physical, more suffocating. 

Your body aches constantly. Your back screamed from the weight of your growing belly. Your feet were perpetually swollen. Your nights were restless, spent tossing and turning as the baby kicked relentlessly inside you, reminding you always reminding you — that there was no way out of this life you didn’t want. And it was killing you.

You thought hitting rock bottom would come with some kind of clarity. Like one day, you’d cry hard enough or sleep long enough or starve yourself numb enough that your body would finally break through the darkness. You thought there would be some moment, some visceral breaking point that would force you to finally start healing.

But it never came.

Instead, you just… sank.

Deeper and deeper, like trying to breathe underwater with lungs already half-filled. Every day you woke up was a fresh kind of misery. You couldn’t get out of bed without feeling like your bones were made of lead. 

You couldn’t stomach food without wanting to throw it all up later. You couldn’t look in the mirror without despising the reflection. You see a bloated, pale, hollowed out, a shell of the woman you used to be.

And the baby never stopped kicking.

You hated it.

God, you hated it.

You hated the way it never let you sleep. You hated the way your body no longer felt like yours. You hated the constant, suffocating reminder that soon, almost all too soon, you would be responsible for a life you never asked for. A life you were already failing before it even arrived.

But the worst part?

You hated yourself for hating it.

Because what kind of mother resented her own baby before it was even born? What kind of woman laid in bed, day after day, clutching her belly and wishing god, please just make this stop  instead of feeling love? What kind of wife watched her husband sacrifice everything for her and still felt nothing but numb, bitter emptiness?

And Kento.

God, Kento.

You couldn’t even look at him anymore without feeling like the most wretched person alive. He was still trying — still holding everything together, still waking up every morning and kissing your forehead, still whispering, “I love you. I’m here.” 

But you could see it now — the slow, painful unraveling of the man you loved. The exhaustion in his eyes, no longer just from work but from you. The hesitation in his touch, like he was afraid you’d pull away — and sometimes, you did.

The way his voice cracked when he said, “How are you feeling today, love?” and your answer was always “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine.

And Kento knew it.

You could see it every night when he crawled into bed beside you and held you close. The way his hand cradles your stomach, his thumb tracing soft circles over your skin. You could feel it in the way his touch, once so warm and electric, now felt like a desperate attempt to keep you here. Like if he let go for even a second, you’d slip through his fingers entirely.

And you hated that too.

Because you knew you were killing him. Slowly. Quietly. Without even trying. You could see it in his slumped shoulders, in the way his voice grew quieter, in the way he looked at you like he was losing you and didn’t know how to stop it.

And you wanted to scream — Stop loving me. Stop trying to save me. I’m already gone.

But you didn’t.

Because how could you say that to the man who dropped his entire career for you? The man who worked twenty-hour days just to pay for your tuition, your food, your life? The man who still kissed you goodbye every morning and told you, “I love you, always.”

So you did the only thing you could.

You kept shrinking.

You stopped eating. Barely touched your dinner when Kento brought it to you. The smell made you nauseous anyway, and even when it didn’t, you could barely stomach the idea of keeping yourself alive, let alone another human growing inside you.

You stopped leaving the house. Your classes had already been dropped; you told Kento it was temporary, just until you felt better. But deep down, you knew you weren’t going back. Tokyo University had suddenly become a distant dream once again, like a life that belonged to someone else entirely. And you were too far gone now to reach for it again.

You stopped responding to your friends. They texted you constantly, trying to check on you. You know they mean well. You know they just want to be there for you. And that they were excited. But you were having a hard time accepting their well wishes.

“How’s the baby? How’s school? We miss you!” 

But the thought of replying made your stomach churn. What were you supposed to say, that wouldn’t come out as a horrible thing? 

“I’m miserable. I don’t want this baby. I don’t want this life.” 

Would have that gotten you some mercy?

So you ignored them. Deleted their messages. Let your phone die and don't bother charging it. And then you stopped talking to Kento. Not entirely. But enough.

Later on, Kento halted the work on his upcoming project the day after you broke down. No warning. No hesitation. One phone call to his manager, another to his agency, and it was done. His voice was steady, almost unnervingly calm when he said: “I’m taking a break for now. My wife needs me.” 

And that was it. He dropped it all like it meant nothing. A project he had poured months of his life into, had gone in seconds. You tried to protest when you found out, but he wouldn’t hear it. His mind was made up before you could even form the words —“Don’t do this for me.”

And then he stayed.

Every single day, he stayed. Morning turned to night, and there he was. Bringing you water when you couldn’t stomach food. Sitting on the edge of the bed while you stared blankly at the ceiling. Holding you through the nights when your body trembled from crying, or worse, the nights when you didn’t cry at all, just lay there like a ghost in your own skin.

He was patient. Devoted. Unwavering.

But it didn’t fix anything.

Because the damage was already done.

You could feel it in the way his touch, once so warm and electric, now felt like a desperate attempt to tether you to the earth. In the way his voice,  soft, pleading, loving had seemed to echo against the walls of your hollowed-out chest, never quite reaching you. 

In this way you could still feel the crushing weight of your own failure suffocating you, no matter how many times he whispered “I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

And the worst part?

You wanted him to leave.

Because it hurt too much to see him like this. Abandoning his career, his life, his future, for someone who couldn’t even muster the strength to get out of bed. You resented the way he sacrificed everything for you. 

You hated how the look in his eyes shifted from affection to concern, from admiration to pity. You despised yourself for being the reason his world was crumbling alongside yours. And deep down, you knew. Kento could stay forever, and it still wouldn’t fix what was already broken.

And after that, you stopped going to school.

At first, you told Kento it was temporary,  just a leave of absence until you felt better. But weeks turned into months, and soon your professors were emailing you: “If you do not return, you will have to re-enroll next semester.”

You didn’t respond.

Because the truth was, you didn’t care anymore.

Your stomach was huge now. You could barely walk up the stairs without losing your breath. Your back ached. Your feet were swollen. You couldn’t sleep through the night because the baby was always kicking, and every morning you woke up with the same suffocating thought.

"I don’t want this life."

And the guilt ate you alive.

Because you loved Kento. You loved your baby. But you hated your life. You hated what it had become. You hated the fact that you were no longer a student at Tokyo University. You were just a pregnant woman, a pregnant housewife. You hated the fact that you no longer had a future — you just had motherhood. You just had this house, his status as a wife.

And Kento saw it. He saw how you’d spend hours just sitting in the nursery, staring at the crib with dead eyes. He saw how you stopped studying, stopped watching TV, stopped doing anything. It was like you were fading away.

And it killed him.

You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged a little more each day, as if the weight of watching you deteriorate was slowly crushing him. In the way he tried to hide the bags under his eyes from sleepless nights spent worrying about you. 

In this way his voice would crack, just barely, when he’d sit next to you and say, “Talk to me, love. Please.”

But you had nothing to say. What were you supposed to tell him? That you hated the life you were about to bring into the world? That you regretted everything — the pregnancy, the wedding, the choices that led you here? That sometimes, when you laid in bed at night, you imagined what it would be like if you just… didn’t wake up?

So you said nothing. Nothing at all.

And Kento tried to be strong for both of you. God, he tried.

He started cooking your favorite meals, hoping that if he made something delicious enough, you’d actually eat. He read parenting books late into the night, convinced that if he just learned enough, he could do this whole thing for the both of you, carry the weight, make up for the pieces of you that were falling apart. He took you on walks when he could get you out of bed, holding your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to hope.

But it was never enough.

It was never going to be enough.

Because the truth was — you weren’t just sad. 

You were grieving everything that had come to pass.

You were grieving the life you lost, the person you used to be. You were grieving the dreams you once held so fiercely. Finishing university, traveling, building a career as a chemist on the international level. All of it now reduced to a hazy memory of a different girl. A girl you didn’t even recognize anymore. A girl you resented for being so foolish, for thinking she could have it all.

And you were grieving the love between you and Kento — or rather, the version of it that existed before the pregnancy. Before everything became tainted by your guilt, your depression, your ever-growing resentment for the life you didn’t want.

You knew that Kento saw it too.

He saw how you flinched when he touched your stomach,  not out of pain, but because it reminded you of what you were trapped in. He saw how your kisses grew colder, how you turned your head when he tried to kiss you goodnight. He saw how you stopped saying your i love yous first — how sometimes, you didn’t say it at all.

And still, he stayed by your side. But it was breaking him whole. 

You could hear it in the way his voice cracked one night when he thought you were asleep.

He sat beside you in bed, his hand resting gently on your belly, and you heard him whisper back to you. “I don’t know how to fix this.” His voice trembled. “I don’t know how to help you.”

And that was when you realized — you weren’t the only one grieving. Kento was grieving too. He was grieving the wife he used to know. The one who laughed too loud at his jokes, who kissed him in the morning just because, who fell asleep on the couch with a textbook still in her lap. 

He was grieving the life you both dreamed of late nights studying, early mornings rushing to class, careers that would take you far. He was grieving the love that used to be effortless, the kind that didn’t require whispered prayers in the middle of the night, hoping that tomorrow would hurt less than today.

And the worst part?

You were the one who did this to him.

At least that’s how you saw it all now.

You were the one who dragged him down into this suffocating darkness with you. You were the one who made him abandon his project, his career, his life. All for a woman who could barely look at herself in the mirror without breaking. 

And every day he stayed, every day he kissed your forehead and said “I’m here”, you hated yourself a little more.

You hated yourself so much that you started to wonder if maybe — just maybe — Kento would be better off without you.

And that thought never really left.

Even when he painted the nursery walls soft yellow and smiled like he wasn’t dying inside.

Even when he held your hand in the middle of the night and promised, “We’ll get through this. I swear we will.”

Even when he looked at you with a love so devastatingly pure, it only made you ache more.

Because you couldn’t shake the feeling. That Kento deserved a better wife. And your baby deserved a better mother. And you? You didn’t deserve them at all. Around your seventh month, you completely broke.

Kento found you in the bathroom at 3 AM all alone as you were sitting in the empty bathtub, knees pulled to your chest, sobbing silently. You looked miserable with your hair disheveled and your face contorted into this look, full of grief and suffering.

“Baby?” His voice cracked. “Oh my god, baby, what’s wrong?”

And you just shook your head. “I hate this so much.” you gasped through your tears. “I hate my life. I hate my body. I hate everything. I don’t want to do this anymore, Kento. I can’t…..I can’t breathe.”

And Kento completely fell apart at the sight of your tears, falling over and over again.  “Baby, no— no, no, no.” he dropped to his knees beside the tub, his hands shaking. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. I’m here now. I’ll fix it. I’ll make it better, so—”

“You can’t!” you screamed, your voice raw and cracked. “You can’t fix this, Kento! I’m already ruined! My life is already ruined!”

And Kento? Kento completely broke. Because he realized you weren’t talking about the pregnancy. You were talking about yourself. And you were gone. All there was left now was the shell, that shell he didn’t recognize.

“I should’ve never gotten pregnant, Kento.” you sobbed, your body shaking. “I should’ve never gotten married. I should’ve stayed in school. I should’ve never left the countryside. I should’ve……I should’ve never let this happen.”

And Kento completely lost it. “Don’t say that.” he begged, his voice cracking. 

He climbed into the bathtub with you, fully clothed, and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t say that, baby, please— please don’t say that. You’re not ruined. I swear to god, I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything. Just don’t give up on me. Please don’t give up on me.”

And you just sobbed.

Because deep down, you already had.

You were right to feel that way.

It was only a matter of time when the labor came early.

You had never expected it — not this soon, not like this.

It was just around thirty-five weeks then. The baby wasn’t supposed to come yet. You still had time. Weeks. You weren’t ready. Your hospital bag wasn’t packed. The nursery still smelled like fresh paint. You hadn’t even washed the baby’s clothes yet. You weren’t supposed to go into labor yet.

But the universe didn’t care.

Your water broke in the middle of the night — and you knew instantly that something was wrong. The pain hit fast and hard, unlike anything you’d ever felt. Sharp, blinding contractions ripped through your abdomen, so intense that it stole the breath from your lungs. 

You barely managed to shake Kento awake, your voice cracked and choked, “Kento — my water……it broke—”

And the moment he saw the panic in your eyes, he moved. Kento didn’t even ask questions. He sprang out of bed, grabbing his phone with one hand and you with the other, already calling for an ambulance. 

His voice was low, controlled, but you could hear the terror behind it. “Yes, my wife is thirty-five weeks pregnant. Her water just broke — she’s in pain — please send someone—”

But the contractions were coming too fast. One after the other, barely a minute in between, and by the time Kento helped you into the back of the ambulance, you knew. The baby was coming now. And the baby would have no mercy on you.

“No, no, no!” you sobbed, clutching your belly as another contraction ripped through you, your body already beginning to push despite your desperate attempts to stop it. “It’s too soon — it’s too soon—”

Kento was right there beside you, his hand in yours, his voice cracked and desperate. “You’re okay, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.”

But you didn’t feel okay. You felt like you were dying. And by the time you reached the hospital, you were already fully dilated. The doctors barely had time to wheel you into labor and delivery before you were screaming through another contraction, your body forcing you to push despite your terror.

And Kento was there. The entire time — he was there. His hand never left yours, his voice never stopped murmuring reassurances in your ear. “You can do this, love. I know you can. Just a little longer. Just hold on for me.”

But you couldn’t.

Because something was wrong.

You could feel it in your bones. In the way your body fought itself with every push, in the way your vision kept blurring, in the way you couldn’t seem to catch your breath no matter how hard you tried. And then, in the middle of a push — you felt it.

A sudden, hot gush between your legs. But it wasn’t amniotic fluid this time. It was warm. And sticky. And you didn’t have to look down to know. You were bleeding. A lot. You could feel how it echoes down, heavy and brutish.

“Kento—” your voice cracked, raw with pain. “Something’s— something’s wrong—”

And then you heard it.

The doctor’s voice, sharp and urgent. 

“She’s hemorrhaging. We’re losing her.”

And that’s when Kento lost his fucking mind.

“What?” His voice snapped, pure, raw panic flooding his face. His grip on your hand tightened like a vice. “What do you mean you’re losing her?!”

“Her blood pressure is dropping! Massive uterine hemorrhage. Doctor,  she’s losing too much blood—”

“No — no, no, no—” Kento stumbled forward, his voice cracking as his hands shook. “Do something! Save her! Save them both!”

“We need to get the baby out now or we’re going to lose them both, Mr. Nanami!”

And suddenly it was chaos. Nurses shouting. Machines beeping. Someone calling for blood transfusions. And you — fading. You could feel it. Your body was giving out, your vision was growing dim, and the only thing you could focus on was Kento.

“Kento.” you rasped, your voice so faint, so weak. Your body felt like it was drifting. “I—I love you—”

“No!” Kento screamed. He screamed like something inside him was tearing apart. His hands clawed at the hospital bed, his body lunging toward you as the doctors tried to pull him away. “No, stay with me! Stay with me, love! Don’t you fucking do this—Don’t you dare leave me!”

But you were already slipping.

The last thing you heard was his voice, raw and broken.

“I can’t do this without you. Please! Please don’t leave me. Please—”

And then, darkness.

HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. Nanami Kento couldn’t do anything but collapse in the hallway. The moment they pulled him out of the delivery room. The moment the words the doctor said, all of that rang in his ears like a death sentence. He was sure that something inside him snapped.

And when the door slammed shut behind him, separating him from you, Kento’s knees buckled. He hit the floor hard. Hands splayed out against the cold tile, chest heaving, throat raw from screaming. He didn’t even realize he was still screaming until two nurses rushed toward him, trying to pull him up, trying to calm him down, but it was useless.

Because he could still hear it. The frantic shouts of the doctors. The horrifying words “Massive hemorrhage. We’re losing her.” The sound of your screams cutting off too abruptly. And worst of all — the unbearable silence that followed.

“No—” Kento howled, his voice breaking like glass. His hands clawed at his hair, his entire body wracked with violent, gut-wrenching sobs. “No, no, no— I killed her. I fucking killed her—”

“Sir, Mr. Nanami.” one of the nurses knelt beside him, reaching out. “You have to breathe, you’re hyperventilating—”

But Kento didn’t hear her.

He couldn’t hear anything.

He didn’t care to hear whatever that was.

All he could think about, all he could see was you. Your face twisted in pain. The absolute terror in your eyes when you realized something was wrong. The way you sobbed I don’t want this, Kento, I’m not ready. And he did this. He did this to you.

His body convulsed with the force of his grief, his head slamming against the tile as his sobs tore from his chest like a wounded animal. “I killed her. I killed her. I made her hate her life and now she’s gone. She’s gone—”

“Sir—” The nurse was trying to hold him down now, his entire body thrashing against the floor as he screamed. “Sir, please, you’re going to hurt yourself—”

“LET ME GO!” Kento roared, his voice so raw it barely sounded human. “She’s dying in there. Do you understand me?! She’s fucking dying in there and I……”

Another contraction of sobs wracked his chest, and his fists slammed into the floor so hard that his knuckles split. Blood smeared against the tile, but he didn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything.

“I made her hate her life.” his voice cracked, his chest seizing with suffocating grief. His hands curled into his hair again, yanking hard as if trying to punish himself. “I did this to her. I made her want to die. And now she’s gone and I’m still here. ”

“Stop, please.” the nurse’s voice broke, her own eyes glassy as she tried to steady him. “She’s not gone. They’re trying to save her in there, with the baby.”

“No.” Kento’s head snapped up, his face twisted in a horrifying mix of rage and agony. His eyes were bloodshot, glassy, utterly devastated. “You don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it.” His voice cracked so sharply it sounded like it physically hurt him to speak.

“She wanted to die, to be free of that misery. Don’t you see?” he choked. “She hated her life. And it’s my fault. It’s my fucking fault—”

And then his body gave out.

His chest collapsed onto the cold tile floor, his forehead pressed into it as his entire body shook. Choked, gasping sobs clawed from his throat, so violent that he could barely breathe. His lungs were burning, his vision was spinning, and he was sure, so fucking sure, that this was it. That they were going to come out and tell him you were dead.

And it was his fault. 

All of it was his fault.

Because he saw it. 

He saw it every single day. The way you sat in the nursery with dead eyes. The way you stopped smiling. The way you couldn’t even say I’m excited without your voice cracking. The way your love for him was slowly being choked out by the sheer weight of your depression.

And he didn’t stop any of it. Instead, he told you to keep going. He told you to hold on. He let you suffer in silence because he thought that’s what you needed but you didn’t. You needed help. You needed saving. And instead, he trapped you in a life you never wanted.

And now you are dying.

All because of him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Kento sobbed, his forehead slamming against the tile again, his blood smearing across the floor. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please….please, I’ll do anything. Just let her live. Please.”

And that was the first time in his life that Kento Nanami prayed. He prayed like a man possessed. Like a man who had nothing left to lose. His bloody fists clawed at the tile, his nails cracking against it as he begged.

“Take me,please.” he sobbed, his voice mutilated from screaming. “Please….just take me instead. I don’t care. I don’t fucking care. Just…. Please don’t take her. Don’t take my wife. Don’t take my baby. I’ll do anything.”

But the silence stretched on.

And he was certain that you were already gone.

Hours continued to make mockery of him.

Agonizing, torturous hours passed — and Kento was still on the floor.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe right. Didn’t think. His body was stuck in that same position. Still face down, forehead pressed against the cold tile, hands trembling as he clenched them into bloody fists. His chest was heaving in short, sharp gasps, his entire body quaking as he sobbed.

He was certain you were dead. He felt it. He felt the moment your soul left the room. He felt the moment the light in his life snapped off like a switch. 

He was convinced that at any second, the doctor was going to come out, look him in the eyes, and say, “I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. We couldn’t save her.”

And he would never forgive himself.

Because he killed you.

His fault. His fault. His fucking fault.

He was still gasping, still clawing at the ground, still praying like a desperate man when he finally heard the door open. Kento’s head snapped up. His bloodshot, swollen eyes immediately locked onto the doctor walking toward him, his scrubs covered in blood — your blood — and Kento’s entire body seized.

“Mr. Nanami—”

“Where is she?” Kento screamed. His voice cracked, broke, his entire body lunging toward the doctor like a caged animal. His hands fisted the man’s scrubs, yanking him forward. “Is my wife alive? Tell me, damn it? Is she alive?”

The doctor barely had a chance to respond before Kento screamed again. “Tell me you saved her, goddamn you!”

And the doctor’s mouth opened — and Kento swore the entire universe stopped spinning when he finally said,  “…She’s alive.”

Kento’s entire body collapsed. His legs gave out. His grip on the doctor’s scrubs slipped. And then he didn’t realize that he had hit the floor. A gasping, broken sob ripped from his throat. The kind of sob that came from a man who was seconds away from losing everything and his entire body convulsed as he wept.

“Oh my god…..” Kento choked, his hands flying to his face, clawing at his own skin like he was trying to ground himself. “Oh my god. She’s alive. She’s alive!”

“Her condition is critical, Mr. Nanami.” the doctor warned, his voice low but steady. “We had to perform an emergency c-section and a hysterectomy to stop the bleeding. She lost over forty percent of her blood volume. We had to resuscitate her twice on the table—”

“Resuscitate?” he gasped, his vision swimming. His stomach lurched. “You mean she….she died?”

“Clinically, yes. Twice.” The doctor’s face softened with pity. “But we got her back. She’s stable now — unconscious, but alive.”

And that was all Kento needed to hear.

He ran. He didn’t even think. His legs moved before his brain could catch up, his entire body sprinting down the hall, his bloody knuckles slamming into every door he passed until he finally found your room.

The second he stepped inside, he broke.

Because there you were.

Unconscious.

Your body was completely limp, hooked up to a ventilator, your skin so pale it looked blue. Tubes were coming out of everywhere. From your arm, your nose, your mouth and there were fresh surgical dressings covering your abdomen where they had cut you open to get the baby out.

Kento couldn’t breathe. A strangled, animalistic sound tore from his throat like something between a sob and a scream and then he collapsed beside your bed. His hand shot out, desperately clutching yours, his entire body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs as he shook.

“I’m so sorry…..oh my god, I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” Kento’s voice shattered, his head dropping onto your hand as his body convulsed. His chest was heaving so violently that he was on the verge of hyperventilating. “I did this. I did this to you and I….”

He couldn’t stop sobbing. His forehead pressed against your limp hand, his body rocking as he cried like a child. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry….” he choked. “I made you hate your life and I trapped you. I killed you…. oh my god, I killed you….”

And the guilt hit him like a sledgehammer. 

Because it was true. All of it.

He saw the way you suffered. The way you faded every single day. The way you stopped smiling. The way you stopped living. And instead of saving you, he kept telling you to hold on. Just a little longer, love. We’re almost there. Just a little longer.

But you weren’t okay. And Kento didn’t listen. And now you were lying there. Pale, lifeless, barely hanging on. All because of him. And the weight of it crushed him whole. He felt like Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.

And then finally, you woke up.

“…Kento?” your voice cracked.

“Baby.” he sobbed, grabbing your face, pressing desperate kisses all over your skin. “Oh my baby…..you’re awake. You’re awake. I thought I lost you. I thought….”

“…Where’s the baby?”

And Kento completely broke. “The baby’s fine, don’t worry.” he choked. “She’s perfect. She’s beautiful. But you….you scared the shit out of me, baby. Please don’t ever do that again.”

And when they finally brought your baby girl in and you held her for the first time — you did something you didn’t expect. You cried. And then you sobbed. Because for the first time in nine months — you finally felt something coherent. Something good.

“…She’s beautiful.” you gasped. “I didn’t think I’d love her. But I do. I love her so much.”

Kento just collapsed against your hospital bed, sobbing. “I knew you would. I knew you would.”

But things are like the weather.

They were bound to change.

You should have known.

THE FIRST MONTH WAS HARD, BUT AS TIME WENT ON, IT GOT WORSE. You came home from the hospital physically intact but mentally, you were gone. You still didn’t go back to school. You didn’t touch your textbooks. You didn’t even mention chemistry. The once-brilliant student who dreamed of working in a lab was now just… a mother. And you hated it.

Every single day felt like a fog. You were exhausted but it wasn’t the baby’s fault. You knew that much. It was you that was malfunctioning. You didn’t know how to connect with her. Every time she cried, you felt nothing.

Every time she smiled, you felt nothing. Every time Kento handed her to you and said something to praise your beautiful daughter, you didn’t know how to react. You just nodded and let it go.  And Kento noticed. God, he noticed.

Kento stayed home for a month. He refused to leave your side. He didn’t take calls, he didn’t attend meetings. He just stayed home. But his contract required him to go back to work eventually. And you… you told him to go.

“Go, you have to.” you whispered, your voice dead. “You have to work, Kento. We have bills. You already missed so much.”

But Kento didn’t want to.

“Baby— no. I don’t give a shit about work. I’m not leaving you like this.”

And you forced a smile. “I’m fine, Kento.”

But you weren’t.

You weren’t.

And Kento knew it.

But eventually, he had to go. He had no choice. His manager was calling nonstop. His agency was threatening breach of contract. He had a new film that needed him and Kento was the lead role. So he left. And the guilt burned a hole in his chest.

The first day he was back on set, he couldn’t focus. His co-stars were talking to him, the director was giving him instructions but all he could think about was you. Home. Alone. With a baby you didn’t love. Kento hated himself. 

He was filming a scene when his phone buzzed in his pocket — and when he saw your name pop up, he immediately froze. 

“CUT!” the director barked. “Kento, you okay?”

“…Yeah, director.” he croaked. “I just— I need five minutes.”

And then he ran.

He ran behind the trailer, shaking, and picked up the phone. “Baby?” he gasped, panic echoing in his voice. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay? Are you okay?”

Silence. “…I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

And Kento’s heart completely shattered.

“Baby…..” his voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…..” you gasped, voice shaking. “I mean I can’t do this. I can’t be a mom. I don’t love her, Kento. I don’t—I don’t feel anything for her. I just feel empty. And I know she deserves better. I know you deserve better. I think….I….I just….”

Your voice cracked. “I think I ruined my life.”

Kento collapsed. “No, baby. No. Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” He was crying now, gasping into the phone. “You didn’t ruin your life. You didn’t. I promise I’ll fix this. I’ll come home right now—”

“No, you won’t.”

Kento completely broke. “Baby, please.”

“No, Kento. You have to work. We need the money. We need—”

“I don’t care about the fucking money!” Kento sobbed, clutching his hair. “I care about you! I care about our family! Please don’t give up on me, baby. Please don’t give up on her.”

But you just hung up.

Kento completely lost it.

He didn’t go back on set. He stayed behind the trailer, sobbing into his hands, shaking, thinking: “I ruined her life. I did this to her. She was supposed to be in college — not stuck at home with a baby.”

And that thought ate him alive. The next few weeks were worse. Kento was dying. Not physically but mentally, emotionally and spiritually, he was. Every single day he walked onto set, it felt like he was leaving you behind. And it was killing him.

Because all he could think about was you. Alone. Depressed. Hollowed out. Not wanting the baby. And he wasn’t there. He was never there. Every single time he put on that suit, stepped in front of the cameras, smiled for his co-stars. He was dying.

Because he knew. He knew the second he came home, you would be worse. Every day it got worse. Every fucking day.

At first, it was subtle. You were tired. Distant. Quiet. But then the days started stretching into weeks, and suddenly you weren’t just tired, you were empty. Your smiles were forced. Your voice was flat. You didn’t ask about his day anymore. You didn’t kiss him when he got home.

And Kento tried to justify it. It’s just the hormones. She’s overwhelmed. She’ll come back to me soon. She’ll come back to me.

But you didn’t.

And Kento broke down again.

Because the more days that passed, the less of you he saw.

You stopped eating dinner with him. You stopped holding the baby. You stopped getting out of bed. You wouldn’t look at him. And the worst part? You didn’t even cry. You just… stared. Blank. Numb. And Kento couldn’t handle it.

He fucking hated himself. Every single day he drove to set, his stomach would turn. He’d clench his jaw the entire time, his hands shaking as he held the steering wheel because he knew. You were at home. Alone. With a baby you didn’t love. And he wasn’t there. And the guilt was going to fucking eat him alive.

One night, Kento came home early. He couldn’t do it anymore. He was on set, trying to read his lines, but his hands were shaking. His mouth felt dry. His mind kept screaming to him: She’s alone. She’s not okay. She’s not okay. She’s not okay. Go home right now.

So he left. He didn’t even tell his manager. He just ripped off his mic and drove home. And when he walked through the door….You were just… sitting there. On the couch. Completely catatonic. Your body was slumped forward. Your eyes were glazed over, completely hollow. You weren’t blinking. You weren’t moving. You weren’t alive.

Baby?” His voice shattered.

Nothing. Kento’s heart slammed into his throat. He dropped his keys, his coat, everything, and sprinted toward you, falling to his knees in front of the couch.

“Baby, please….” his voice cracked. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs trembling as they brushed over your cheeks. “Please talk to me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

But you didn’t blink.

You didn’t look at him.

You just… stared at the wall.

Kento’s stomach lurched.

His throat closed.

And then you finally spoke.

In a voice so dead, so hollow, that it didn’t even sound like you anymore. “…I don’t want to be a mom anymore.”

“Baby,” his voice broke. He practically collapsed against you, his forehead pressing to your lap as his hands clutched yours. “Please don’t say that. Please, god—”

“I don’t.” you said flatly. Your voice didn’t even crack. It was just… dead. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want her. I don’t want anything.”

Kento’s entire body convulsed.

“Baby, no.” His voice split down the middle. His hands squeezed yours so tight his knuckles went white. “Please don’t talk like that. I know it’s hard. I know you feel alone. But I love you. I love our baby. We can fix this, baby. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything.”

But you didn’t believe him.

Because the truth was — you didn’t want him to fix it.

You didn’t want help. You didn’t want therapy. You didn’t want him to stay home from work. You didn’t want him to coddle you or tell you it would get better.

You just wanted your old life back. You wanted school. You wanted chemistry. You wanted the future you spent years building. But instead, you were just Keiko’s mother. And you fucking hated yourself for it.

“I never wanted this.” you whispered numbly, your eyes glazed over. “I didn’t want to have a baby. I didn’t want to give up school. I didn’t want this life. And now it’s all I have.”

Kento couldn’t breathe. His chest split open. His hands shook violently as he tried to pull you closer, his head buried in your lap. “Please, baby….” his voice splintered. “Please don’t talk like that. I need you. Our baby needs you. We love you.”

But you didn’t respond.

You just kept staring.

Kento sobbed heavily.

His entire body convulsed. His shoulders shook. His throat ripped open as gut-wrenching sobs tore out of him. “I’m so sorry.” he gasped. His face buried into your lap, his tears soaking your clothes. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

And you didn’t comfort him. You didn’t hold him. You didn’t wipe his tears. You didn’t say anything. Because deep down, you hated him, too. You hated that he got to have a life. You hated that he still had his career. You hated that he still had a future.

And you, who you once knew?

You were just a mom.

You were trapped.

And you resented him for it.

YOU WENT AWAY FOR A LITTLE WHILE. It was a shut-in therapy. Somewhere far. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that felt detached from the life you had been drowning in. Kento made the arrangements. You didn’t ask him to but he just did it. One night, after finding you curled up in the corner of the nursery, crying so hard you couldn’t breathe, he made the decision himself. 

You don’t even remember how it happened — one moment you were screaming I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I don’t want this life anymore, and the next, your husband Kento was quietly helping you with packing your bags.

“Baby….” his voice cracked, his hands trembling as he folded your clothes into a suitcase. “You need help. You need real help. And I can’t—” his throat choked up. “I can’t keep watching you like this. I can’t keep coming home to you like this. I need you to get better, baby. I need you.”

You didn’t fight him.

Because deep down, you knew.

You needed help.

And when you left, Kento didn’t cry. He didn’t break down. He didn’t beg you to stay. He just kissed your forehead, buckled you into the passenger seat, and drove you there himself. The drive was silent. But when you arrived and it came time for him to leave, you felt him break.

Kento clutched your hands so hard you thought he might shatter them. His forehead pressed to yours, his voice splintering as he begged. “Please come back to me. Please get better. Please..... I don’t care how long it takes, just please don’t give up on us.”

And then he left.

And you stayed.

And the first few weeks were hell.

You fought everything. The therapy. The group sessions. The self-reflection. The constant “how are you feeling?” The exposure therapy to bond with your baby. The “you’re not alone” pep talks from strangers who did not know you.

And every single night, you thought about calling Kento. You thought about screaming into the receiver I’m done, come get me, I can’t do this anymore, please just let me go home.

But you didn’t.

Because somewhere deep, deep, deep down, you wanted to get better. And slowly you did. It wasn’t linear. Some days were good. Some days were awful. Some days you held your baby in your arms and felt nothing. Some days you sobbed so hard that you thought you’d vomit. Some days you sat in the therapy circle, refusing to speak, refusing to participate, refusing to care.

But then some days, you looked at your baby and felt something. Not love. Not joy. But something. A tinge of warmth in your chest. A pang of protectiveness. And slowly, slowly, something began to grow. And then six months later, you came home. Kento was there, waiting for you.

The second you stepped through the door, his entire body crashed into you. His arms crushed you against him, his hands cradling the back of your head, his chest heaving as he sobbed harder than you had ever seen him cry.

“Baby!” he gasped into your hair, his voice cracking. “God, I missed you….I missed you so fucking much! I thought you’d never come back to me and Keiko.”

And you sobbed too.

Because you missed him. God, you missed him.

And that night, when you walked into the nursery and you saw your baby again for the first time in months. You cried harder than you ever had in your life. Because for the first time in a long while, you wanted her. And you didn’t hate her anymore.

But… the thing was, your relationship with Kento. It was never the same. You wanted it to be. You tried so hard. Kento tried, too. He was so patient. So gentle. So loving. But something between you both felt… off.

You had a hard time touching him. Being intimate with him. You couldn’t explain why but every time Kento kissed you, really kissed you, or ran his hands down your waist, or tried to pull you into his lap, your body would freeze.

Kento noticed. But he never pushed. He never said a word. He just waited. God, he waited. But the truth was you didn’t know how to give him that part of you anymore. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him. You did. You loved him so much. You adored him. You cherished him. You owed him your life.

But every time you tried to make love to him, it felt like you were reopening the wound. It felt like you were back there again. Heavily pregnant, crying yourself to sleep, suffocating in a life you didn’t want. And you hated it. You hated that your body betrayed you. You hated that you wanted to be with Kento, but the second he kissed you, you’d tense and apologize and turn away.

One night, he finally brought it up.

It was subtle. Careful.

“Baby…..” he murmured as you both laid in bed, his fingers brushing over your bare shoulder. “Do you… not want me anymore?”

And your heart dropped. “What?”

Kento swallowed thickly, his voice small. “You never touch me anymore. You never kiss me first. You… you flinch when I touch you sometimes. And I just…. I don’t know if it’s me or if you just… don’t want me anymore.”

“No — no, Kento, I do.” you sobbed, immediately turning to clutch his face in your hands. “I love you. I love you so much. I just…..I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to….. to be close to you. I want to. I really do. I just….”

Kento shook his head. “Baby, no.” his voice splintered. “It’s not your fault. God, it’s not your fault.”

But you still hated yourself for it.

Because every time Kento looked at you with that softness, that adoration, that undying love — all you could feel was guilt. Guilt for what you put him through. Guilt for resenting him. Guilt for pushing him away. And the fullness of the intimacy, it never really came back.

You tried.You forced yourself sometimes, letting him kiss you, letting him touch you — but it felt wrong. Not because of him. But because your body wouldn’t let you have it. Your body still remembers the trauma. Kento never blamed you.

But it killed him. Because every night he’d roll over in bed, aching for you but he wouldn’t touch you. He wouldn’t dare. He knew if he tried, you’d flinch. You’d shut down. And he couldn’t handle that. So, instead all he could do was just… love you from afar.

But how has that ever been enough?

THE FIRST TIME YOU FOUND OUT ABOUT KENTO’S CHEATING, IT WAS PURELY BY ACCIDENT. It must have been years later. After the therapy, after the recovery, after you slowly started piecing your life back together. Your daughter Keiko was already walking, already talking. You had gone back to school part-time, slowly finishing your chemistry degree. 

And your intimacy with Kento? It had started to come back. Well, not fully. Not like it used to be. But you were trying your hardest with everything. You wanted to make sure that you could do it again. Your husband was waiting, and he deserved it. He deserved your love so much more than anyone. 

You started off small. You started to hold hands and then you started kissing him again. You started letting him touch you again. You even started making love again. Though it still wasn’t what it once was. You didn’t initiate it. You didn’t crave it. You just… let it happen. Because you wanted to be close to him. You wanted to fix what was broken.

Yet, Kento was still distant. Not in the obvious way, no. Kento still loved you. Fiercely. Deeply. His hands were still gentle when he brushed your hair behind your ear. His voice was still soft when he murmured his devotions to you every morning. His kisses were still warm when he kissed you goodbye.

But in his eyes, you could see his eyes so clearly. His eyes always looked starved. Like he was still reaching for something you wouldn’t give him. Like no matter how hard you tried, it would never be enough. And deep down, you knew. You would never be able to give that to him ever again.

You saw it. Every night when he rolled over, half-hard in bed, but he wouldn’t touch you. Every morning when he’d linger in the shower, his back to you, his hand clenched into a fist. Every time you let him inside you, and you could feel the heartbreak in his touch, like he was still waiting for you to love him the way you used to.

And you hated yourself for it.

But you never thought…….

You never thought he’d cheat.

Until one day,  you saw the message.

You were on his phone. It wasn’t intentional. His phone was sitting on the coffee table while he was in the shower, and it buzzed. You didn’t think much of it at first — just a glance, a mindless reflex. But then you saw the notification. A text message. From a number you didn’t recognize.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was married.”

And your blood ran cold instantly.

You froze as your pupils dilated.

Your hand shook as you unlocked his phone. His password was your anniversary, for fuck’s sake and when you opened the message thread… It was all there. The proof.

It was from months ago. At least half a year. Some random woman. The messages were fragmented. But clearly, Kento had deleted most of them. But there was enough. Enough to piece it together.

The first message was from her. “Hey, I had fun last night :) Let me know if you ever want to do it again.”

And then his response — curt. “I can’t continue on with this. I’m married. I love my wife. And….I have a daughter.”

Then her response. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again.”

And that was it. But it didn’t fucking matter. Because the implication was there. The truth was there. Kento had slept with her. He had fucked her. He had cheated on you. He decided to go on with this, swallowed by the need and by lust. 

And you just… You just sat there. Staring at the message. Feeling like the ground was ripped from beneath you. And the thing that destroyed you most was that you weren’t even surprised. Because you knew. You always knew.

You saw it in his eyes every single day. That hunger. That emptiness. That quiet, unspoken need for something you weren’t giving him. And you thought you were fixing it. You thought you were trying. But clearly… clearly it wasn’t enough. 

You didn’t confront him immediately. You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You didn’t throw his phone at him the second he walked out of the bathroom. You didn’t do anything. You just… sat there. And thought about it.

And the longer you thought about it, the more it made sense.

Of course he cheated.

Of course he did.

You deprived him for years. You denied him your body. You made him watch you suffer, made him sleep beside you every night knowing he couldn’t touch you, made him ache for you in ways you never fulfilled. That’s the worst part. You understood. You understood why he did it. That was the part that made you nauseous.

Because the truth was you had already broken his heart long before he ever stepped out of your marriage. You had pushed him away for so long, turned cold for so long, denied him for so long — that at some point, he just stopped waiting.

And you didn’t blame him.

You hated him. God, you hated him.

But you understood.  And you still loved him.

What a foolish game for a wallflower to grow on.

And when he finally came out of the bathroom, his hair still damp, towel slung over his shoulder, flashing you that soft, tired smile. You didn’t say a word. You just kissed him. Hard. Desperate. Like you hadn’t just been crushed to death by your heartbreak.

You grabbed his face, pulled him down, crushed your mouth to his like you were trying to rewrite history. Trying to pretend like you didn’t know what you knew. Trying to convince yourself that he was still yours. Kento froze for half a second, shocked by your sudden affection but then his hands snapped around your waist and he melted into you.

“Baby….” he gasped against your mouth, his voice needy, aching. “Fuck….. what’s gotten into you?”

You don’t say a word to him. Instead, you just clung to him. Like if you held him tight enough, like you could somehow undo the fact that he had already been touched by someone else. You let him take you that night. Hard. Rough. Desperate.

You let him fuck you like he hadn’t been able to for years, you let him do as he pleased. You let him crumble into you. His mouth on your neck, his hands fisting your hair, his voice breaking as he gasped over and over —“I love you. God, I love you.”

And you let him. Because in some fucked up way, you felt like you owed it to him, after making him suffer for so long. You spent years starving him, depriving him of life. So it was only fair that he found his comfort somewhere else.…Right?

Yet you stayed up after all that love making, alone.

No, you knew the correct answer all along.

But you were just too much of a fool to say it out loud.

AND JUST LIKE THAT, IT HAPPENS ALL OVER AGAIN. Once again, you were pregnant with your second child.  It wasn’t planned. You never wanted any more children, after all that had happened. But it happened. Yet it wasn’t that surprising. In some ways, this was the only way you could find yourself taking revenge against him. To make him just as miserable as you again.

Just weeks after you found out about his cheating, after you spent night after night letting him have you in every way he wanted, desperately trying to reclaim him, trying to erase the touch of another woman from his skin. You found yourself standing in the bathroom again, clutching a positive pregnancy test. And your stomach dropped.

Because the second those two pink lines stared back at you, you knew. The cycle was about to repeat. The suffocating weight of motherhood. The slow erosion of your identity. The same cold distance that once consumed your marriage was about to happen all over again. And the worst part was that you couldn’t even blame anyone but yourself.

Because you let him touch you again. You wanted to feel wanted, and to take revenge. You wanted to erase every part of every other woman’s palm on his. You opened your legs for him, night after night, desperate to keep him anchored to you, desperate to make him forget about the other woman and now, you were paying the price.

And when you told Kento, he broke. But not in the same way he did the first time. Not with pure, unfiltered joy. Not with a beaming smile and hopeful eyes. No, this time, Kento’s face crumpled. Yet you know that look on his face. It was just like the first time.

“Baby—” his voice cracked. “You’re….. oh my god, you’re pregnant again?”

And the heartbreak in his voice killed you. Because you knew. You knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking we’re not ready. He was thinking not again. He was thinking I just got her back. And now, it is happening again. Yet, you just knew in the back of his mind, he was thinking this was his punishment. This is what he gets for being the worst man on the earth.

The sleepless nights. Postpartum depression. The intimacy issues. The slow unraveling of your marriage. And you could see it,  the fear in his eyes. Yet, your husband Kento pushed it down. Because he was Kento fucking Nanami. He was a husband. A father. A provider. And regardless of how horrified he was, he refused to let you see it.

So he smiled.

Or at least, he tried to.

Yet you both knew the truth.

That smile felt like the biggest lie.

“That’s amazing, baby.” he choked, his voice strained. “Another baby. That’s… that’s incredible.”

And then he kissed you, soft and hesitant, like he was forcing himself to be happy. And you felt it. You felt the hesitation. The dread. The underlying regret. But you didn’t say anything. Because you were the one who let it happen. And just like that, the cycle began again.

Kento started working more. He said it was to provide for the baby, but you knew better. You knew it was because he was terrified. Because he was already bracing himself for what was about to come for you to spiral again, for you to shut down again, for you to stop loving him again.

You tried not to fall into the same pit you did last time. You tried to stay upbeat. You tried to keep loving Kento — loving him hard enough to make up for the fact that he once touched another woman. You tried to be a good wife. You tried to be excited about the baby.

But slowly… it just happened again.

The nausea. The fatigue. The aching loneliness when Kento came home late. The bitterness when you saw happy women on campus who still had their futures. The slow, creeping resentment every time you looked at your growing belly and thought I didn’t want this.

And worst of all, you started pulling away from Kento again. Not on purpose. But your body remembered. Your body associated pregnancy with trauma, with pain, with suffering and so it shut down. You couldn’t help it. Every time Kento touched you, your skin crawled. Every time he kissed you, you flinched. Every time he tried to make love to you, you just froze.

Kento felt it.

He felt you slipping away.

He felt your body turning cold again.

He felt the weight of your touchless nights,

He felt your silent dinners, your empty stares again.

And you knew.

You knew it was happening all over again.

But this time — it was worse.

Now you couldn’t stop thinking about her. The woman he had slept with. The one he turned to when you couldn’t love him the way he needed. And every time Kento touched you, you couldn’t help but lay there and wonder over and over again.

Did she feel warmer than you?

Did she kiss him like she wanted him?

Did she make him feel loved in a way you never could?

Kento could see it.

He could see the way you recoiled when he reached for you. He could see the distance growing between you again. He could see the guilt burning you alive. And he hated himself. Because the truth was, he never stopped loving you.

Even when he cheated. Even when he fucked another woman. It was never about love. It was never about you. It was about the ache. The desperation. The years of feeling like he was losing you and just needing something to hold onto. Now he felt like he was losing you again.

And deep down, he knew.

You were never coming back to him.

Not fully. Not the way you used to.

And Kento was slowly breaking under the weight of it.

Because no matter how much he loved you, it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough to keep you from falling out of love with him.

This is the world you gave birth to Nanami Kenshin.

LIFE GOES ON AS THEY USED TO SAY. Twenty five years, two whole decades and a half of that since you and Kento had first stepped into this chaotic life together. And somehow, despite everything, you made it.

You had raised two kids, a boy and a girl. Your Keiko and your Kenshin. They were both smart, both stubborn, both carrying that unmistakable sharpness in their eyes that mirrored your husband as much as their compassion had been garnered from your heart.

In all that agony you had come to know in your life, the pair kept you busy with almost everything they could think of. Troublemaking, homework, soccer games, dance recitals, late-night fevers. Everything about it is the messy, beautiful chaos of parenting that somehow keeps you moving forward.

And then there was Kento’s career, near thirty years as a veteran in the industry. He had gone from being the promising newcomer to a household name. Red carpets. Magazine covers. Award ceremonies where his face shone on giant screens as he walked up to accept yet another trophy. The world adored him. Respected him. Envied him.

And you were right there beside him for all of it.

The photographers always wanted you in the frame. His beautiful wife, standing gracefully at his side, draped in sleek designer dresses and glittering jewelry. They loved the way you smiled for the cameras, how your hand always rested delicately on his arm, how you played the part of the elegant, unwavering woman who had supported her husband through it all.

And for a while, you convinced yourself that this was enough. 

That this life, this carefully curated image of family perfection, was what happiness was.

You learned to smile in interviews, to talk about Kento’s dedication as a father and how proud you were of him. You learned to navigate the world of high society — dinner parties with producers, mingling with other industry wives, slipping into that role of effortless charm and poise.

But behind all the glitz and glamour, it was lonely.

With two kids to raise, and a husband to care for, there was little for you.

There was no room for you to be the woman you are.

Kento was rarely home. Always on set, always in meetings, always flying across the country for some event or another. And when he was home, he was exhausted. Conversations grew shorter. His kisses felt rushed. The intimacy you’d once fought so hard to reclaim began to fade again — not because you didn’t want him, but because he was never there.

You kept yourself busy. Raising the kids. Managing the house. 

Smiling at galas, posing for cameras, over and over again. 

Playing the part of the perfect wife in a perfect marriage.

But sometimes, when the house was dark and the kids were asleep, you’d sit alone in the living room clutching an old photograph from years ago, back when Kento’s hair was still short and his smile still reached his eyes and wonder if this was all there was left.

And maybe it wasn’t enough.

But you told yourself it had to be.

Because you had already sacrificed too much to turn back now.

So, you didn’t think of anything when it broke out in the headlines.

Kento Nanami, the beloved actor, devoted husband, father of two had allegedly been caught cheating again after nearly twenty five years of marriage.

You sat at the kitchen table, having breakfast like normal. The morning sun spilled through the windows, the smell of eggs and coffee filling the air, and the faint sound of the television humming in the background.

“Sources say the woman in question is a production assistant from his latest drama series—”

You didn’t flinch.

You didn’t look up.

You just kept stirring your coffee, like the words meant absolutely nothing to you. Kento, on the other hand, was frozen. Fork halfway to his mouth. Face pale. Chest rising and falling like he was trying not to hyperventilate. And then, slowly, ever so carefully,  he turned his head and looked at you.

“…Are you alright?” His voice cracked.

And that’s when you smiled.

You smiled, soft and easy. Like none of it mattered. Like you weren’t currently listening to the entire nation gossip about your husband’s infidelity. Like you weren’t being branded the foolish, pathetic wife who stayed after her husband cheated twice. Like you weren’t dying inside.

And with a voice far too calm, you said, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kento’s entire face crumpled.

Because he knew.

He fucking knew.

That wasn’t real. That smile. 

That sweetness. That unbothered facade.

It was performative.

It was the same smile you gave him after your first child was born, when you were drowning in postpartum depression but still told him “I’m fine” over and over again.

It was the same smile you gave him one hundred times when he told you he was going to be late at home tonight, when he didn’t have to be. 

And now, now you are doing it all over again. Feigning nonchalance. Feigning strength. Feigning normalcy. And it destroyed him to bits beyond what he could stand.

“…Baby.” his voice cracked, his fork clattering against his plate. “You don’t have to…. I mean, we can talk about it if you want. I’ll….I’ll explain everything. I swear to god, it’s not what they’re saying—”

You laughed so heartily.

A soft, almost amused laugh.

And you took a sip of your coffee, still smiling. “I don’t need you to explain anything, Kento.”

His stomach dropped. “Wh–what?”

You met his gaze and your smile never wavered. “It’s not the first time, is it?”

And fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Kento’s mouth fell open. “Baby….no. It’s not like that….I swear I—”

“It’s alright.” You cut him off smoothly. Calmly. Almost too calmly. “Really. I don’t want an explanation.”

Kento visibly flinched. His heart was hammering so loud he swore you could hear it. “…You don’t?”

You shook your head, taking another bite of your eggs. “No. I’m just glad you had fun.”

And Kento lost it. 

“Baby….” His voice cracked violently, his chair scraping against the floor as he immediately dropped to his knees beside you, clutching your thigh like his life depended on it. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out again. Please, baby. Please yell at me. Cry. Scream. Break things. Just…. don’t act like you don’t care. Please. Please, baby, I know you care—”

You laughed again.

But this time — it was hollow.

“I don’t.” you said plainly, popping a piece of toast into your mouth.

And that broke Kento completely, you were sure.

“No, no, that’s not true.” his voice shattered, his grip on your thigh desperate. “You love me. I know you do. You still love me. Please don’t….don’t act like you don’t….. I’ll fix it, baby. I swear to god, I’ll fix it, I’ll—”

“Fix it?” you echoed, your voice soft. Curious. “Like you did the first time?”

Kento fucking froze. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Because you never talked about it. Ever. After his first affair, you never once brought it up. You forgave him in the silence. Or at least, you pretended to. You shoved it down, pretended it never happened, and let Kento crawl back into your arms without consequence.

Now you were smiling at him like he was nothing more than a pitiful stranger. “Your ears work fine, don’t they?”

“…I don’t know what to say.” he choked. His hands were shaking. His throat constricted. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please….please just tell me what to do. I’ll fix it. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t—”

“Don’t what?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

The look in your eyes killed him.

“Don’t leave you?” you continued, your voice sickly sweet. “Don’t abandon you like you abandoned me when I needed you the most? Don’t make you feel like I loved someone else the way you made me feel for years?”

Tears burned his eyes. “Baby, please—”

“It’s fine, Kento.” You smiled again. “Really. I’m not mad.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” You sipped your coffee. “I’m not anything.”

And Kento completely unraveled.

Because he could see it.

The way you looked at him now. Like he was just a man. Not your husband. Not your Kento. Not the love of your life. Just a man who happened to share your bed, your house, and your children. And it killed him.

“Do you still love me?” he finally choked out, his voice so small.

And you froze.

Just for a second.

But then you smiled again. 

Just as soft, sweet, cold as before.

“Of course, I do.”

And that was the sick part, wasn’t it?

You did. You still loved him. You loved him with your entire fucking soul. You loved him so much that it hurt. You loved him and you hated him with equal intensity. It was two sides of the same coin and it was tearing you apart.

And yet even if you do love him, you know what should be.

Kento didn’t deserve that love anymore.

And even if you have to act like you don’t love him, so be it.

Let him suffer the amount of suffering you had over that time.

So you kissed his forehead, brushed his hair back, and whispered. “You should finish your breakfast. You have work later.”

And then you stood up from your seat, cigarette on your lips.

And left him sobbing on the kitchen floor, lamenting.

You had errands left to run, after all.

A wife has too much to do, you know?

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

blessings

old man!Joel Miller x reader | wc 1.1 k | fluff mdni | ao3

summary: Joel's body is aching and so is his soul, but you make it all better or a domestic moment with Joel and you.

warnings: fluff without plot, no y/n, established relationship, unspecified agegap (think reader being around 30), Joel having bad joints but hey, he is 62 and alive, kisses, Joel being a cute grump, so many feelings, so much love, petnames (baby, darlin', angel)

notes: this is my attempt of making us all feel better. Joel will outlive me, thank you very much. a big kiss and thank you to my partner in crime fluff @guiltyasdave for writing with me today and beta'ing and being the best person 💛💛💛

The damp cold has been hard on him. Joel won't say a single word about it, he won't complain. But his face will twist when he moves, he will huff when the pain shoots through him, he will rub his knees and wrists and fingers without even noticing it. He'll seek the warmth a little more, when he can. Because the days on the construction sites are long, even longer when he only sits crouched over his desk. The wintery cold crawls closer every minute he broods over sketches or some tiny, tricky apparatus he wants to repair but can't, because his fingers are stiff and cold and he isn’t 40 anymore.

His whole body aches when he finally gets home. And all Joel wants now is a warm shower, a warm meal and your warm body against his. He feels like a burden, these days more than usual. This isn’t like it was supposed to be, he thinks when he hears you humming in the living room, some tune from 2003, a tune he was too old for even then. You are too young. Too kind.

“Hi baby,” you whisper into his good ear and wrap your arms around him. He grunts, frowning, a fake offended expression pronouncing some wrinkles on his face and smoothing others out. Baby. He likes that, likes being called that, likes being loved. A late blessing in his life.

“Don’t…” he mumbles when you hug him tight and burrow your nose deep into the collar of his flannel. He smells like fresh cut wood, dust, sweat, home. You inhale him deeply, sighing happily against his skin before you kiss him there. “I need a shower. Get off of me, nasty thing.”

Yet Joel stays put, his big paws and your arms make sure you keep on holding him a little longer. A week or a year, a decade if he dares to dream really big. He'd die a happy man today if the Lord decided that his time has come. But that doesn’t mean he wants to go. But if he had to, he’d know that he had another big love in his life. Lucky, that's what he is.

“Take a shower, then. And eat, there's soup.” You nuzzle a trail up his neck until you reach the grey scruff adorning his jaw and cheeks. It’s scratchy but soft, grey but virile, just like Joel himself. You kiss his cheek and hold your lips there until he groans again. It’s all part of the game, a game called Joel is grumpy, no really, he is when he is nothing but a loving man.

“Yes, ma'am,” he grumbles but there is a smile painting his timbre. “Thank you, darlin’,” he adds and gratefulness joins the smiley tone of his voice.

You sit with him, watch him eat because you already ate with Ellie. You serve him a side of the latest gossip, some youngins fooling around, breaking up in the middle of the street. He laughs and shakes his head, says something about how young love makes you do crazy things and when he looks at you – with your chin propped up on your folded hands, smiling at him – he is reminded that you are the same age as these young fools. You are more than grown up and an adult, you are a whole woman, have a whole story and lived a life before Jackson, but still, there are decades between you.

Young love really makes you do crazy things, loving an old man like him for example.

His stiff muscles and cold bones got a little better in the hot shower, and when he joins you on the edge of the bed he can feel the siren call of your warmth.

You can tell that he hurts. He never says a single word about it. But he hisses and grunts when he thinks you don't hear him. He curses his old bones and you spend your days lifting those curses, one by one, with kisses and caresses. You take the towel from him and continue drying his grey curls, knowing each one of them by name. You move behind him and dab his back dry, taking an inventory of his scars and spots and blemishes. Constellations, you think, and draw an invisible line to mark the Big Dipper he carries below his right shoulder blade.

Joel groans and shifts, both impatient for you to stop and not wanting you to ever stop. He shivers, the cold crawls over the hardwood floor and nips on his ankles.

“Need to lay down now, ‘m cold.” He tugs at the covers and you move to lift them for you and him. With a sigh he leans back, slowly – because his back is protesting – until he feels the mattress beneath welcoming him. The dips his body has carved into the worn material are hugging him but there is no warmth, just the promise of simple and plain sleep. But when your arms loop around him and your hands skim across his chest and arms? There is warmth. And he knows he will rest and recharge and recover.

His feet sneak closer to yours and his hands slip between your legs. You muffle your yelp against his shoulder and Joel sighs contently when the soft heat of your thighs starts seeping into his aching joints. When spring comes around, he'll be able to use his fingers on you again, differently, like he knows you're aching for. For now all he can do is soak up your care and love for him.

“You deserve better, darlin’,” he whispers between placing kisses on your temple, “Deserve someone your age, who can make ya happy and–”

“--still has a life to live and who can give me what I need,” you finish his sentence for him. “I know, I know. Ever considered that you are who I need? And want?”

Joel scoffs but he's smiling. Blessed, that’s what he is.

“Stubborn thing.”

“Just matching your energy, Miller.”

Another scoff and he's pulling one of your legs between his. Tangled, intertwined, not planning on letting you go, as long as he can manage to hold you by his side.

With your head tucked under his chin and your hand slowly rubbing his back, right where a scar sits and always makes his muscles knot, you close your eyes. He still smells like wood and musk, like what you've searched for for so long and found in his arms.

“Love you,” you murmur, tongue already heavy from the looming sleep.

“Love you the most, angel,” Joel answers and nuzzles the top of your head. Counting his blessings before he falls asleep. His daughters, his nephew. His brother and Maria. The people he loved along the way and still loves. And with you on his mind, as his last blessing, he drifts off.

I hope this could make you feel a little better on this Monday, please let me know know your thoughts, comments and especially reblogs are welcome! 🫶

general masterlist here

dividers: @/diviniyae

[vaginalvr]

OMG reader is a babysitter for JJ and when reid goes and visit her kid he gets babyfever and just wants to creampie her

yes ofc I just got over my pregnancy scare!

cw: baby fever, soft dom!Spencer, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PIV (established relationship), creampie, domestic themes, possessiveness, slight breeding kink, aftercare

REQUESTS OPEN!

JJ was running late, unsurprisingly. A local case had them scrambling to close paperwork, and you were more than happy to help by watching Henry for the evening. He’d just fallen asleep after an exhausting hour of hide-and-seek and story time. His little hand had curled against your shoulder before you laid him gently in his bed, watching his chest rise and fall.

You loved babysitting Henry. He was sweet, polite, and easy. You didn’t mind JJ’s late nights either—her trust in you meant the world.

You were halfway through cleaning up blocks from the living room floor when a knock startled you.

You padded barefoot across the rug and cracked the door open.

“Spencer?”

He gave a soft, sheepish smile and raised a small paper bag. “JJ said you were here tonight. I brought dinner. Thought maybe you hadn’t eaten.”

You blinked at him, touched. “You thought right. Come in.”

He stepped inside, careful not to let the door creak. He looked… different here. Less stiff, more boyish. The cardigan and soft blue dress shirt made him look impossibly cozy. Domestic.

You couldn’t help the flutter in your chest as he looked around JJ’s house, eyes scanning the toys and coloring books scattered on the coffee table.

“She always tells me how much Henry loves you.”

“Really?”

Spencer nodded, setting the bag on the kitchen counter. “He once said you make the best dinosaur roars.”

You laughed, blushing. “That kid has too much dirt on me.”

You sat together on the couch, eating takeout out of plastic containers, the occasional baby monitor buzz drifting from the kitchen. At one point, Spencer’s eyes drifted to the hallway toward Henry’s room.

“Can I… see him? Just for a second?”

You paused, then smiled softly. “Yeah. He’s fast asleep. Come on.”

You led him quietly into the nursery, watching as Spencer leaned into the doorframe and gazed down at the little boy curled up under a blue blanket.

His face changed—eyes softening, mouth parting just slightly. His usual anxious energy had melted into something else entirely. Reverence. Wonder.

“He’s gotten so big,” he murmured. “I remember when he was born.”

You watched him, heart tugging.

“You ever want one?” you whispered.

He looked at you then, and something in his eyes flickered—like you’d flipped a switch he didn’t know he had.

“All the time lately,” he admitted, voice low. “It’s strange. I never used to think about it. But now I can’t stop.”

“Why now?”

He looked back at Henry, then to you, gaze dropping to your lips.

“Maybe because I finally found someone I could see it with.”

Your breath caught. The room was still, heavy with that quiet, loaded confession.

And suddenly you weren’t in the nursery anymore.

—

Back on the couch, neither of you was saying much, tension thick in the air. You could feel his gaze on you as you tucked your legs under yourself, playing absently with the hem of your shirt.

“You’d be a really good dad,” you said softly, glancing at him.

He didn’t smile. Not this time.

“I’d want to do everything right,” he said. “Be present. Be patient. I’d read all the research. Buy the safest crib. Cook every meal from scratch. I’d… hold them on my chest and sing them lullabies in Latin.”

You let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “Of course you would.”

He shifted closer. “But only with someone who’d love them just as much as I do.”

You turned toward him—and he kissed you.

It started soft, but quickly deepened, all the weight of longing pouring into the way his hands cupped your face, how his thumb grazed your cheek like he couldn’t believe you were real.

He kissed like a man who’d dreamed of this a hundred times and didn’t want to wake up.

When you gasped against his lips, his hands dropped to your waist, pulling you into his lap. You straddled him, fingers in his hair, heart pounding.

“I can’t stop thinking about you like this,” he whispered. “Here. In this house. Holding a baby. Wearing soft things and calling me home.”

You whimpered, rolling your hips instinctively. “Spencer…”

“I want to see you pregnant,” he groaned, lips dragging down your neck. “Swollen and glowing. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

Your panties were soaked.

He slipped his hands under your shirt, fingers trembling slightly as he lifted it over your head. His mouth dropped open when he saw you—bare, flushed, pupils blown wide.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re perfect.”

His mouth latched onto your breast, sucking gently, tongue flicking your nipple until you whined. Your hips rocked again, pressing against the growing bulge in his slacks.

“Bedroom,” you gasped. “Or we’re not gonna make it.”

You led him down the hall like you belonged there. Maybe you would, one day.

—

JJ’s guest room was small, cozy, and dim. The second the door shut, Spencer had you against it, kissing you like he’d die if he didn’t.

You reached for his belt, but he caught your wrists, guiding you to the bed instead.

“Let me,” he whispered.

You laid back, trembling with need, and watched him undress. His shirt slipped off first—soft chest, pale skin, lean and familiar. He kissed your ankle, then your knee, then your thigh, spreading your legs gently.

“Stay quiet, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Don’t want to wake the baby.”

You nodded frantically as his mouth lowered to your soaked panties, dragging them down your thighs. The first swipe of his tongue was slow, savoring.

You clutched the pillow, biting it to muffle your cry.

He ate you like he meant it. Like your pleasure was a prayer. He licked deep, slow circles, flicking over your clit before sucking it gently into his mouth.

You came with a soft sob, shaking in his arms, and he kissed you through it—whispering praises against your skin.

“So good for me… so beautiful…”

He lined himself up without hesitation, eyes locking with yours.

“Ready?” he asked, stroking the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Spencer…”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, groaning low when he bottomed out.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” he rasped. “So warm… so tight…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as he started to move. Each thrust was slow, deliberate—like he wanted you to remember this for the rest of your life.

“I want to fill you up,” he whispered in your ear. “Want to see you dripping with me.”

You whimpered, nails digging into his back.

“You want that too, don’t you?” he asked. “Want to be full of me? Walking around with my baby inside you?”

Your walls fluttered. “Yes—Spencer, yes—”

His pace faltered as he buried himself deep one last time, groaning into your shoulder. You felt him pulse inside you, hot and overwhelming.

He held you through it, hips rocking slowly until you both came down.

—

Later, he stayed pressed against you, hand resting on your belly like he could feel the future there.

“Someday,” he whispered. “If you want.”

You turned to him, brushing hair from his face.

“I think I do.”

He smiled, slow and real. “Then someday, it’ll be ours.”

You kissed him again, and in the next room, Henry stirred—but didn’t wake.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Daryl Dixon SFW alphabet."

Summary: Daryl Dixon's version of the SFW alphabet with you as a couple.

@artsynana: hii dear, i was thinking, have you ever though about writing some sfw headcanons with daryl? i would love to see something like that written by you🥰🥰

Hey love. Sorry it took me a while to do this, my brain has been out of ideas :( This isn't the best, but I hope you like it! Thanks.

A/N: I sometimes include some excerpts from my stories to give you an idea (don't hate me, I have to promote them haha)

A = Affection (How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?)

In public, Daryl is painfully uncomfortable with displays of affection considering he never knew what it’s like, so he’d just stand by your side, always close, always making sure you’re in his line of sight if he can’t get close. He just… has to know where you are (not possessively, but the idea of ​​losing you is inconceivable). Daryl is a protector, now imagine him with the person he’d want to spend his life with. Maybe cupping your cheek as a quick caress or a kiss on your forehead before either of you has to go on a search for supplements.

Privately Daryl became more accustomed to them until he needed to do it himself.

B = Best friend (What would he be like as a best friend?)

Whether you're the talkative one or the quiet one, or both, the beginning of a friendship would be confusing for Daryl. Having someone Daryl could confide in, someone he could open up to, considering that his whole life he's had to keep quiet or bottle up his own feelings, both good and bad, would be a huge step for him. But like I said, Daryl is a protector, to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anyone who dared to disrespect you (a warning first, of course. His temper is short, sorry, but he's learned to handle it), but disrespecting you in the sense that he feels you're being insulted, threatened, or way before he feels you're in danger.

C = Cuddles (Does he like to cuddle?) (The little spoon)

Glenn helps Carol as Daryl places his arms under your legs and shoulders, lifting you up so he can carry you into the bedroom, but then, a silly thought shines in your mind and pushes out of your lips before you can stop it.

“Did you know Daryl likes being the little spoon?”

Daryl feels the heat rise to his cheeks as everyone stops to stare at him.

“I like it, so what?” He says embarrassed, but trying to keep a straight face so no one would laugh at him.

Daryl would come to love the idea of ​​cuddling too, because for him, feeling HIS person against him, protected even in dreams is comforting because it's the only place he can protect you 100 percent, (I mean, with those strong arms, hehe) Rick or Carol may be the only ones who can tease him when they sense Daryl is somewhat grumpy for not being with you at night due to some runs, telling him not to even think about trying to cuddle up against them. Also because Daryl wasn't a deep sleeper or even didn't sleep at all, maybe that's why feeling the body of the person he loves helps him fall asleep, to feel like he's not alone anymore.

D = Domestic (Does he want to settle down? Like, make him and you a real family)

Daryl would hint (shy and awkward hehe) that it would be nice to have a house of your own, maybe in Alexandria. He did live in a house, yes, but with you, it would be his first home. It would be like giving the child living in him a chance at being loved correctly, too.

E = Ending (If he has to break up with his partner)

It's so hard for someone like Daryl to trust another person, to love another person, that when he is in a relationship, it would be for a long, long time. His whole life, he lived without thinking about the future or having expectations for anything, so if Daryl dared to love you even though he thought you deserved better, or that you could be loved better, he wouldn't break up with you on purpose.

F = Fiancé (How does he feel about commitment?) (What it means to me)

“Why did you come back for the ring?”

As the men keep digging a grave for Tina and the other bodies, Daryl stops to look at Sherry, who’s looking at an empty spot beyond all that pain. She doesn’t look back at him, and just wait for an answer.

"S’ jus’ a ring for ya but it means somethin’ important to me.”

A second later, Sherry finally looks at him.

“What is that?”

Daryl knows a promise can be broken, not by him, but by that dangerous world and how a life can end in a second, so the ring is, or will be a symbol of a truth, if he gets the opportunity to give it to you.

“It means I’ll love ma wife for the rest of ma life. S’ the only promise I can make to her.”

Daryl never thought about being anyone's something, not wanting to settle down and much less commit, it would be something he dislikes (it terrifies him actually) but with you, who showed him only the good and the beautiful that life has to offer, he would unwittingly start having those thoughts about what it would be like to do all of that only with you. The idea of ​​getting a ring for you, of having something visual that makes you his (not in a possessive way) that after having nothing, having you bearing his last name would be everything.

G = Gentle (How gentle is he?)

Daryl is tough and imposing with his physique and the menacing way his gaze alone can convey, but he quickly learned to be less rude with you and the people he loves and considers family.

H = Hugs (Does he likes hugs?)

It's not that he doesn't like it, it's just that Daryl doesn't know how to be physically loving. My poor baby is awkward as hell, so maybe at first, just to annoy him and even make him uncomfortable, you'd give him hugs even for breathing because even you can tell he's never received one. But the idea of ​​you expressing your love like that is fascinating to Daryl until he understands that it's a normal part of life, and that he doesn't have to work hard to deserve one.

If you haven't seen each other in a while, Daryl would need to keep you pressed against his body for a while, so that he physically understands that you're really there, close again.

I = I love you (Like Gravity)

“God dammit, woman, if I didn't love ya so much they'd be cookin' in a stew.” He freezes for a second, listening clearly to his heartbeat as he walks away, but Daryl has to clear his throat so his voice wouldn’t break off mid–sentence. “Let's go over there and see if we can get some squirrels instead.”

The L word. Daryl knows well that you love him and that he loves you, but saying it out loud, it would be the thing that would forever define your relationship at the beginning, perhaps when he still fears that the foundations of your love aren't fully built, when he still senses that someone better will come along. But the moment Daryl understands that, despite his imperfections, you won't walk away by your own choice, he'll feel safe saying it because he knows well you'll say it back. For him, love is in the small things, but every once in a while, he says it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous can he get? (You are)  

Your skin feels cold again when Daryl's hand leaves your body, even if your skin feels boiling hot when the attention falls on you like the midday sun in that stifling season. As if someone had put their hand on your throat until it was blocked from air, your uncomfortable laughter comes out muffled, but you don’t answer before changing topics. But it's sad that after a short while, Daryl stands up to go to his own cell, his thoughts running wild with the jealousy he feels about that guy, thinking that there was someone who made you feel something when, for him, you were his first everything.

Insecure more than jealous, but jealous too (?). At the beginning of the relationship, Daryl is jealous of everyone because he’s convinced that everyone is better for you than him, that anyone could offer you more and something better, that at any moment he's going to ruin what he has with you, to the point of indirectly sabotaging the relationship without realizing it. Daryl needs time to understand that what you feel for him isn't temporary and isn't in danger of disappearing, until he no longer feels threatened by anyone.

But if you two are together and someone is trying to flirt by making you uncomfortable and even trying to cross the line of your security, it's like letting the lion out of its cage. Daryl would literally eat the poor bastard alive. (In fiction, I love those men hahaha)

K = Kisses (What are his kisses like?)

It depends, if they're those in the middle of the game, they'd be pretty deep. The idea is consuming in his mind, the idea of ​​knowing that after those comes the best *wink* Daryl loves the idea of ​​feeling his person's lips on his, because the nerves they still produce in him are exciting, how something as simple as greeting each other like that at any time of the day is simple but powerful for him. It's not something he takes for granted, especially at the moment when someone has to go to a run if you both can't go together.

L = Little ones (Babies?) (Make you happy)

“It means positive.” You answered softly, your heart beating faster.

Daryl’s mind ran as fast as possible, registering your words, processing who he was and who he will be: a future father?

“Are we…” Daryl finally said, but he had to clear his throat first. “Happy ‘bout it?”

He looked confused, not angry.

“I don’t know. Are we?”

Then, he did the last thing you thought he would do: Daryl started smiling, just a little bit.

“Yeah, I mean, I'm fuckin’ scared, but…” He paused, looking at you with a worried expression, and his voice became even lower. “But if ya don’ want to have her I would get that, ‘cause for yer face ya ain’t lookin’ so sure ‘bout it.”

Daryl was always terrified of the idea of ​​becoming his father, or even just a shadow of that man and harming a baby, which is why he never wanted children. He knew his temper was short and explosive to the point of losing control, and that was a big NO. But Daryl, without realizing it, cared for Judith since she was a baby until a thought settled in his mind: the idea that he couldn't be that bad, not when he would give his life for someone who wasn't his blood daughter. And if Daryl would do it for her, what wouldn't he do for someone who was?

Whether it was an accident or something you two were looking for, Daryl would be an amazing dad, showing his baby nothing but love and happiness.

M = Mornings (How are the mornings with him?)

Daryl sleeps more soundly since you've been with him, but he's not someone who wants to spend all day in bed every day. The day starts early for him, although the idea of ​​waking up next to someone after sleeping alone his whole life does make him want to stay there a little longer.

N = Nights (How are nights with him?) (The way to heal a heart)

From his side, Daryl sleeps with his back to you. However, lying on your left side and as you drift off into a light sleep, you feel Daryl rolling over in bed, blindly searching for the warmth of your body, pressing himself against you, because that reminded him that he is still alive.

With nightmares or insomnia after a lifetime of abuse, Daryl didn't relish the idea of ​​going to sleep, but sleeping together solved the problem. Even unconsciously at first, his body blindly sought yours when you first started sleeping together, until it became a necessity for Daryl to physically feel you, perhaps a hand on your waist or your stomach or your back, or until his body was pressed against yours.

O = Open (When would he start revealing things about himself?)

Little by little, because the traumatic memories felt like reliving them once Daryl said them out loud. The idea that saying them and look weak and vulnerable was inconceivable to him, but there was something about your tone of voice, without a hint of pity for him and only understanding when he crossed his own line and told you the first story one night.

P = Patience (How easily angered he gets?) (A little hope)

But too terrified to feel too much when Daryl was used to feeling little, or nothing at all, he turned away from you for a very long time, always taking the opposite path, coming when you were leaving, never coinciding, confusing when his feelings awaken and made a mess of his life.

But being shot by Andrea was like his breaking point, leading him to isolate himself in the room until he was better, walking outside only during the nights so as not to suffocate within the four walls all day. A random night as you walk back late, you see him standing against the back wall, and fighting against the current, you try to get closer, just one more time before deciding to walk away from him forever, but Daryl was the reflection of a battered animal, always on the verge of attacking before being attacked.

And he gives you the WHOLE speech.

“…battin’ yer eyelashes at me n’ always hopin’ for the best, givin’ me hope for somethin’ I know ain’t gonna happen between us. M’ fuckin’ sick of seein’ ya.”

Again, a really short patience, or sometimes Daryl doesn't have any of that, but he learned to calm his temper, not to get carried away by his own frustration, and not to yell or want to escape quickly from situations that made him uncomfortable. The idea of ​​attacking so as not to be attacked again was burned into his mind, always feeling that he was not wanted anywhere, but the time and the family Daryl made taught him that he was loved and that he was an essential part of others' lives.

Q = Quizzes (How much would he remember about you?)

He remembers absolutely everything. Daryl has a practically perfect memory, recalling even things you considered unimportant. Like a good hunter, Daryl is able to notice even the smallest pieces, tiny things that go unnoticed by others, but not by him, and this ability is even more surprising because he started paying attention to you even before you were a thing: storing in his mind even those tiny behaviors of yours that no one else noticed. Now imagine when he and you became something.

R = Remember (What is his favorite moment in your relationship?)

Daryl doesn't take being with you for granted, so he believes every moment means something special.

S = Security (How protective is he?) (Karma Butterfly)

“A fuss?” Daryl grunts under his breath, those words souring his mouth. “A moron threatened ma wife and ya don’ want me to make a damn fuss?”

But as the sweet karma that is about to punch Spencer right in the face just as Daryl’s fist would do, Spencer walks down the street toward the car, smiling at Rick like the good boy he pretended to be. However, Daryl’s anger covers his eyes and paints the world red as he walks towards him just to punch Spencer before Glenn or Rick can try to stop him, hitting him so hard that Daryl makes him fall. Daryl falls on him too, with all the weight of his body, punching the thick skin of the wolf. His strong arms push away who tries to pull him back, his ears covering with the word threat, his fists turning red as blood leaves Spencer’s face.

“Daryl, stop!” Finally, Rick pulls him hardly, giving Spencer some time to breathe again. “You’re gonna kill him!”

“That’s the fuckin’ plan!” Daryl shouts back, trying to avoid Rick’s body as he looks straight at Spencer. “M’ gonna kill ya, coward! Nobody messes with ma wife!”  

Once again, Daryl is a protector, to the point of giving his life for the person he loves. Keeping you safe from any kind of threat is a duty to him. Feeling like you're in any kind of danger is devastating to him, which is why Daryl would dedicate his life to keeping yours safe, from anything living or not. Losing you is what terrifies him more than the thought of something happening to him.

T = Try (How much effort would he put into different things)

Love for Daryl is in the little things: like bringing something for you during a run, for example, a book, a cassette, something simple but a meaningful reminder that life in that new world is still life just because he has you.

U = Ugly (Some bad habits of his?)

That he's not bothered at all by the grease of his motorcycle when Daryl's fixing it or the blood on his clothes, that he doesn't notice it until you point it out. He'd respond that it's not that bad and that you're just being picky until you threatened to make him sleep in the yard if he didn't fix it.

(I'm not saying smoke because I do it too, sorry)

V = Vanity (How concerned is he with his looks?)

Not worried at all. Even though Daryl's physical appearance has attracted the attention of the local women in Alexandria, he's oblivious to his appearance, becoming even shy when you tease him about his long hair, which makes him look like a rock star, or the muscles in his arms exposed in his sleeveless shirt.

 W = Whole (How would he feel without you?)

After living alone his entire life, finding you gave Daryl the desire to never be without you again. The idea of ​​falling in love was almost like a bad joke to him, although in reality he was also terrified of loving too much and losing (among other things). But feeling loved by you made him feel complete, so yeah, he doesn't want to live without you anymore.

X = Xtra (A random thing about him?)

Maybe how quickly he becomes shy when you tease him? but he tries to hide it with a snort.

Y = Yuck (What are some things he doesn’t like about you?)

Nothing. Maybe just your own tendency to do things alone, which sometimes got on his nerves because of his fear of you getting hurt. Daryl knows you're independent and can take care of yourself, but since life taught you that you could handle everything on your own, you sometimes forget that it's okay to have someone else to help you.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleep habits of his?) (My everything)

“15 minutes to make the milk? I was starting to get worried actually." You raise an eyebrow, speaking softly. "Why did you take so long? The milk is in the kitchen, not in another country."

"Sorry, sweetheart." Daryl apologizes as he hands you the bottle, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch his daughter stop crying the moment she feels the bottle against her pretty pink lips. "I closed ma eyes and jus' fell asleep for a minute."

You frown, continuing to stroke Marley's back.

"In a chair? On the counter?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl's head falls until he almost hits his chest with his own chin, waking up from his light sleep before looking back at you. It's still funny to you how easy it was for him to go without sleep all those years, but after a month with Marley, Daryl considered killing walkers an easier task.

"What? No. Standin’. Didn't know that was even possible."

Being a light sleeper, or not sleeping at all sometimes because of nightmares was Daryl's weakness, but sleeping with you developed a good sleep habit on him. He still wakes up early, but sleeps soundly since you two lived within the safety of Alexandria's walls, although since his daughter was born, Daryl truly understood what it was like to go without sleep.

[samsblades]

✶ . ၄၃ . laundry machines — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, poor editing, inexperienced!reader(dating-wise) so sort of shy!reader too, mentions of madison & resulting guilt, implied later seasons sam, kissing, 1.7K words. requested !

summary : you're new to being in a relationship, but sam finds it endearing and is happy to take things slow.

some days are smooth and seamless and like an actual dream come true. others are clumsy, awkward, and make you shy away from being perceived at all. it’s just that this is all quite new to you, and you’re very unsure how to navigate being in a relationship, especially with someone so handsome and lovely. no one’s told you what’s allowed and what isn’t, how you should be acting, what an appropriate response is to the sweet things he does to you.

this all makes you easily flustered, often embarrassed, and yes, you’ll admit it, a bit shy at times. he’s just so tall and steady and you know he’s done this all before, even if the last time he was in a long term relationship was nearly a decade ago. and you’re not even that far from him in regards to age, but you’re somehow so much more lost than he is. it’s nice, because he’s more than willing to take the lead on things, to guide you through it. but sometimes that reminds you of your inexperience, and it sort of makes you wish that you could be a bit better for sam. it almost makes you feel like you’re forcing him to do all the work.

alternatively, sam’s own narrative regarding your inexperience is one of deep fondness, and even a bit of relief. he himself can be awkward and shy, even now and after all he’s been through, but with you, he gets to be the one who’s sure on his feet and smooth and a little easy. secretly, he’s still remembering and figuring out how to do this all. but the little things come to him comfortably enough that, to you, he seems entirely confident and effortless.

“sam?” you call to him from your bedroom. he’s sitting in the living room of your little apartment, content with a cup of tea you’ve made for him. “is it alright if i wash your jacket with my things, too?” 

“of course,” he calls back, his voice at its normal level of sweet and kind. you don’t see the huge, endeared grin on his face. he’s not sure why it wouldn’t be alright to wash his jacket with your things. it’s certainly the most logical thing to do, and it’s not as if he’d mind one bit. actually, he likes the idea of his clothes with yours, spinning around and getting tangled together in the washing machine. it’s domestic, soft, and intimate in a simple way. maybe that’s why you asked, he wonders; intimacy makes you a bit timid at times. 

with that, his jacket is placed inside your laundry basket. it’s dirty from a hunt. sam wanted to stop by your apartment first thing when it was over by mid morning and he wasn’t too far away. he thinks he flustered you, though, because he forgot to text beforehand. but, you also looked very happy to see him, so he’s sure it’s okay. you had melted right into his kiss, though your hands remained chastely resting on his elbows as he sweetly cupped your face. 

now, you’re walking out of the bedroom with your laundry, met with a fond look from sam on the couch. 

“i’ll be right back. i just need to get this done by tonight,” you explain as you head to the door to head down to the washing machine in the building’s basement.

“i’ll come with you,” sam says, standing, still wearing his pretty smile. he imagines he’ll have to leave in a few hours, and he’d like to spend every moment until then with you if you’ll let him.

“there’s no need, i’ll only be gone a minute,” you say, only because you don’t want to make him get up and walk down, then back up all those stairs.

his long legs take him to the door in less than a few seconds anyway. “i want to,” he says simply, and you feel silly that it sends your heart pumping extra hard.

“if you insist,” you smile, taking it in stride. sam notices and resists the urge to just sweep you up in his arms and kiss you for a long while. he hasn’t kissed you again since he arrived, but he doesn’t think you’d have as much ease dealing with that without being greatly flustered. he’d probably like to see that, but he’s not a cruel man. you’d argue that he’s the gentlest of them all. he follows you down the stairs because you refuse to let him carry the laundry basket. he’s already silently promising he’ll carry it upstairs once it’s all washed and dried. he’ll help you fold it too, if you’ll let him. he’s not sure if you’ll be alright with him catching a glimpse or two at your underwear. 

that makes him think about the time he was about twenty three and madison not-so-subtly showed off her panties to him while folding her laundry on the first day they’d met. she’s a sad memory. a guilty one, too. but he has you in front of him, softly chattering about what you did this morning, and he lets her be a nice memory for today. you give him plenty of nice memories, and he thinks about how he likes the way the two of you take things slow.

you don’t seem to think about the fact that sam can see what you’re putting in the washing machine, and he finds it cute, for no particular reason. he finds it cute when you’re nervous about something you needn’t be or when you aren’t about something he predicted you might. maybe he just finds everything about you cute.

he leans against the drying machine and watches happily as you put the washer to the right settings and start the cycle. 

“so,” you say, turning your head to look at him, “do you have–” you’re cut off by the loud rush of water in the machine as it begins soaking your clothes—and his jacket—and you shake your head because you momentarily forgot just how loud it is. it’s the loudest washing machine you’ve ever used, you told him once. he himself is almost startled by it; you really weren’t kidding. he gives a little laugh and you can’t help but laugh a bit too. neither of you have to say anything to agree to go back upstairs.

he holds the basement door open for you and one of his big hands that you’re secretly so fond of hovers by the small of your back as you pass him and start up the stairs. only you think it’s a secret. he can tell how much you like to hold hands and fiddle with his fingers. you stare sometimes, too, but he’d never tell you that for fear of rendering you too flustered to function properly for the rest of the night.

“you were saying?” he says, encouraging you to continue now that he can actually hear you.

you can’t tell if it’s a blessing or not that he’s asked you to keep going while walking up the stairs. you sort of wanted to be watching his face when you asked, but you’re also thinking you might be grateful that you won’t in case it helps you feel less nervous. he’s just so handsome and sincere and lovely that it makes you nervous. you don’t know how to be casual around him. everything just feels so special and new and nerve-wracking.

“i was just wondering if you had another case lined up for tomorrow,” you tell him, hoping that you’re succeeding in sounding laid-back like you wish you could be. once again, he thinks it’s sweet you don’t always know how to act around him. “or, you know, anything like that,” you add on. you don’t want to ask without knowing if he has somewhere to be in the morning.

sam feels a spark of hope and a little bit of youthful giddiness that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time before you. “i don’t,” he says simply, “i don’t have anything tomorrow.”

you chew lightly on the inside of your cheek, considering your options. there’s still another flight and a half of stairs until you get to your floor and you’re thinking, despite how nervous it makes you, you really would like to be facing him as you ask. it’d be obvious and awkward if you wait until you’re back in your apartment, right? but it’s silly to ask in a stairwell, you think.

then you realize you're probably overthinking it. maybe neither of those things are true. maybe it doesn’t matter at all how you ask, so long as you do it. you know he’ll say yes, you know he’ll like the idea of it, and you’re pretty sure he’ll like the fact that you’re the one to bring it up first. and you’re pretty confident that you love him and that he really, truly cares about you too. that gives you a burst of confidence.

you turn around, right on the steps with your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and a little, likely nervous looking smile on your lips. “do you want to sleep over tonight?” you ask, somehow able to make yourself sound more sure of things than you feel.

his lips curl into a happy, almost proud smile. it’s very obvious how much he adores you. all you have to do is look at him and see the way his adoration pools in his eyes and his dimples and shows in the lightness of his eyebrows and the showing of his front teeth. his hands that you love so much drift up to hold your waist, moving slowly so you can anticipate it. the touch still makes you draw in a steadying breath.

“i would love to. are you sure that’s alright with you?” he says. he’s trying to sound casual too, but it comes out more reverent than anything else. 

your smile isn’t so nervous now. “mhmm,” you hum. “i’m sure.” this time, you really are sure. though, you still have to grip his shoulders for support when he kisses you, right in the stairway like he’d probably kiss you anywhere.

[silverynight]

Perfect team

Izuku wakes up as he feels lips against the back of his neck, pressing lightly. He grins as the kisses move down towards his shoulders, lips making sure to press all over his freckles.

"Good morning, Izuku."

He can hear the smile on Katsuki's face, even if he's not looking at him at the moment. His boyfriend seems happier now; he was content before, but his eyes started shining the brightest after he gave Izuku the hero suit.

An expensive suit that has helped him fulfill his dream. Izuku is a pro hero now, after more than eight years of graduating from the UA, after the war. And all thanks to Katsuki's efforts.

He knows he won't be able to repay him for what he had done for him.

A couple of tears escape from his green eyes, as Katsuki gently turns him around with an adoring smile on his face.

"I know what you're thinking," the blond pro hero grins, rubbing their noses together as he wipes Izuku's tears off with his thumb. "You know the only thing I want in return is your happiness. I want you to be happy and I want you to stay by my side."

That's why they started dating really; Izuku was crying a couple of days after getting the suit, insisting he needed to give him something in return, despite Katsuki saying a couple of times he didn't want anything.

And then he had confessed, saying the only thing he wanted was a chance to court Izuku, to woo him, to make him fall in love with him.

But Izuku assured him he already did, and now they live together.

"You know I'd do anything for you," Katsuki whispers then, but the devotion in his voice and eyes is loud somehow, like he can't hide it, even if wanted to.

Izuku already knows this. The things that happened during the war and the eight years after have made it clear for him. For everyone.

Bakugo Katsuki is in love with him. But even those words don't sound like they're enough to describe what he feels.

"Yes, I do know, Kacchan," he giggles as his boyfriend kisses the scar on his right cheek and the freckles on the left. "I love you too."

The blond pro hero practically purrs, triumphant smirk quirking up the corners of his lips. Katsuki looks like it's the best day of his life, and Izuku can't help but smile fondly at him in return.

"I'll make breakfast."

"You don't have to..."

"I want to."

Izuku grins before kissing Katsuki's forehead; the blond rises from the bed before heading towards the bathroom.

They have early patrol... together, so they better hurry up.

He finds Katsuki in the kitchen almost an hour later; they're both ready. They're wearing civilian clothes now because they leave their suits in the agency.

They eat pancakes that morning as they talk about their friends and work; it's easy to be himself around Katsuki ever since he apologized back in high school, and Izuku has always been grateful for it.

They know each other better than anyone, that's why their relationship feels so natural and right.

They still argue, but they always know how to fix it. Besides, those "fights" are what keep helping them learn how to communicate better.

Katsuki grins a lot now; he smiles softly around Izuku and carries that expression on his face and that sentiment in his chest way after they start their shift. His friends tease him about it, and Izuku finds it absolutely endearing.

They all can tell how much Katsuki enjoys their domestic life; he likes to cook meals for the both of them and even enjoys when they stay home, cleaning their apartment.

Izuku does it too, although he sometimes finds it hard to believe.

He's living with Katsuki now, as his partner in more ways than one, and he's absolutely happy about it.

"I'm going to marry you."

Izuku blushes to the tip of his ears, even though Katsuki says that a lot lately. He doesn't ask and he doesn't hesitate; it's like he knows how this will end, or perhaps how it will start for the both of them.

Izuku wants that too, even though he has told him they should wait a bit anyway.

Katsuki doesn't mind waiting, he has said it a couple of times already.

"You'll be my husband."

"And you'll be mine, Kacchan."

Katsuki's eyes glimmer at that, because he knows it's different now and Izuku blushes in response again.

He knows Katsuki will propose to him soon, and he can't wait for that to happen.

They wash the dishes before getting out. And Katsuki reaches out to him before they walk towards his bike; he loves to hold Izuku's hand a lot now, and Izuku is really happy to indulge him.

They're a team now.

[rekino2114]

Can I get a Female Obanai x reader fluff alphabet?

Fem!iguro obanai fluff alphabet

🐍A=affection(how affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Obanai is weird when it comes to affection, one on side she always blushes and acts bothered when you give her affection but secretly actually loves it, she will never refuse a hug from you

🐍B=baby(do they want a family? How are they with kids?)

She really doesn't want a family, not only is she still traumatic from how her own treated her but she's also just awful with children (tbh she's awful with anyone who isn't you) she'd much rather just stay with you

🐍C=cuddles(do they like to cuddle? How do they cuddle?)

She actually quite enjoys cuddling. It's a good way to be quiet and relax while spending time with you. She doesn't mind being the big or little spoon but since she has a pretty small build it's better for her to be the little spoon

🐍D=Domestic(do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Living with you is her main dream and she's willing to do basically everything you want to be a good wife, she can cook and clean, even if she won't admit she did for you it's pretty obvious

🐍E=everything (you are ........... example: my life,my world)

"You are the most precious thing I have,....please never leave me"

🐍F=flirting (how do they flirt? Does it continue even after they're in a relationship?)

Obanai does flirt, period. Not only is she pretty awful at it, she gets embarrassed everytime she even tries and doesn't really like showing affection in that kind of way

🐍G=gifts(what gifts do they like to give you? When?)

Gift giving is actually one of her main love languages, she gives you stuff often. Sometimes it's food other times clothing items she knows you like other times it's just homemade stuff she made specifically for you, even if she will never admit it

🐍H=hug(do they like hugs? how do they hug?)

Obanai isn't the biggest fan of hugs, but she would never refuse one if you ask her. Her hugs are very tight, like a snake coiling you, she doesn't talk or do anything else just tightly holds onto you

🐍I=I love you (how fast did they say it? Do they say it often?)

It took a while for her to say that. not because she was unsure that she loved you, she knew that from the start, but she needed to make sure that you loved her too, she kinda thinks she's not really worthy of you, but now that you confirmed you loved her too she says it occasionally not too often though

🐍J=jealousy (how jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Obanai gets very jealous incredibly easily. She is ready to beat up any girl who flirts with you at a moment's notice. And even when she doesn't flirt with you, any woman getting remotely close to you pisses her off and she'll just stay there angrily glaring at her until you come back

🐍K=kisses(how do they kiss you? Where do they like to kiss you?)

It took a while for the first kiss to happen because she had to show you what her mouth looked like, but when she understood you didn't judge her because of it and actually loved it kisses became something of a regular occurrence, only in private thought and her kisses are mostly short and sweet

🐍L=love confession(how did they confess to you?)

She had kaburamaru hold a sign "follow me" and when you did, you found obanai blushing intensely and holding out a cup of tea she made for you. After a chat, she confessed, thinking you would reject her, but to her surprise you said yes and she's so happy about that

🐍M=mornings (how do they spend mornings with you?)

She waits for you to wake up and always gives you 5 more minutes of cuddle when you ask, she acts al annoyed like she hates it, and you forced her to but actually loves the more time she gets to spend with you

🐍N=nights (how do they spend nights with you?)

She likes to watch the starts with you from a tree, she makes sure you won't fall and then you two stargaze and stay in peaceful silence

🐍O=overprotective (how protective are they of you?)

She is very protective of you, you are the most important thing to her and she genuinely can't stand the idea of you getting hurt. She knows you can handle yourself but she just can't help but be overprotective

🐍P=pet names(what nicknames do they like to call you?)

She doesn't really have any pet names she calls you in public but sometimes calls you sweetie when it's just you two

🐍Q=quizzes(how much do they remember about you?)

To be honest you are on obanai's mind like 24/7 so she remembers everything that is important to you, she'll just randomly say something even you forgot about and blush when asked why she knew that

🐍R=rain(how do they spend a rainy day with you)

She just stays on a tree not doing anything in particular and looking at the rain. She doesn't even care that she gets wet but will come back inside if you ask

🐍S=service (what are some acts of service they do for you?)

While she may not act like it obanai is actually such a simp for you, she would do most things you ask her to do and will make sure you're comfortable after a mission with a massage a bath or anything really. She will always blush and deny that she's doing it for you but you can see it in her eyes that she actually is

🐍T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She really really tries, that's how she shows her love. She doesn't outright say it most times, just does stuff for you and really tries her best to be a good girlfriend

🐍U=unhappy (how do they cheer you up?)

She asks who made you cry and is 100% ready to stab them. But then she calms down and cuddles you and makes you tea and lets you play with kaburamaru

🐍V=value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

You are the best thing that could ever happen to obanai. Your mere presence makes her feel.....loved and worthy of you, she wants nothing more than to make you feel the same love she feels for you

🐍W=wound (how do they react to you getting injured?)

Will immediately and mercilessly decapitate whatever demon did that to you and bring you to Shinobu. Even if the mission isn't over she doesn't care, you're more important and she hates seeing you hurt

🐍X=Xtra (a random fluffy headcanon)

Kaburamaru loves you too and obanai couldn't be happier about that. He always slithers on your neck whenever she's not around, and it acts as if both of you are his owners and obanai's heart melts whenever she sees you two playing together

🐍Y=yes (how do they react to you proposing to them?)

".......you want.....to marry me?...me of all people?.........thank you, yes......I want to spend forever with you too"

🐍Z=zzz (how is sleeping with them?)

She doesn't really sleep too much and kinda likes to watch you sleep, she tries her best to not act creepy but she thinks you look beautiful when you have nice dreams

[ereawrites]

girl please you are my only source of Shisui content😭😭 really feeding us shisui simps🤝🏻 anyways, if you feel like it, can you please write about shisui and (if you want to) your fav characters “the moment they realized they fell in love with you”

MMMMMMM this is cute asf! under the cut for length

shisui

he definitely already recognises he has Feelings with a capital F. he's a smart boy and unlike the other two he is pretty emotionally available. but he doesn't want to reveal his Feelings just yet because circumstances are tricky, and he doesn't want to go through all the emotions of a big confession just to not be able to pursue a relationship with you

side note this is ANBU shisui. so he's pretty busy and just casually risking his life on the regular. tbh you're also probably in ANBU and that's how you guys get to know each other so well

anyway he's been sitting on these Feelings for a while. and he knows you like him too. he knows. he indulges in some lowkey flirting from time to time, but he also tries to maintain some level of professional distance

and then you save his life and he's SCREWED

you're both assigned to the same mission and spend the entire time dancing around flirting/not flirting, trying to hide it from your teammates, just generally having to try really hard not to distract each other too much. then there's an ambush on your squad and shit gets kinda crazy

shisui probably exhausts himself a bit protecting the entire squad and manages to get himself knocked flat on his ass. there's an enemy stood over him and he's out of kunai and his chakra is depleted and he thinks well, that's that and then you're cutting down the enemy out of nowhere

he stares up at you like an idiot lol. you look like shit, you're covered in blood and your headband is lopsided. and he thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

HE LIKES A WOMAN WHO COULD BEAT HIS ASS okay

in that moment he just realises how much he trusts you, and how well you guys work together. he can't stop thinking about it long after you guys get back to the village. he's literally dreaming about it. and after a few days he's like. this is love ig. wow.

shisui won't keep it from you for long. he thinks you deserve to know, even if it changes your dynamic as teammates. capital F Feelings are one thing but love is too important to hide. he might try to keep it professional (mutual pining?!?!??!), but I also see him going for a relationship here, even if you have to hide it from your superiors. and let's be real a secret relationship with shisui. it's hot

kakashi

see now kakashi. he knows he has feelings. but he won't admit it to himself. he says no thank you not today. he's so stupid lol he thinks if he ignores it then it'll go away

he can't really keep himself away from you though. he wants to distance himself and that's his first instinct, but he literally just can't do it. he keeps finding himself wandering into your path, or just happening to train at the same time as you, or listening more intently when a mutual friend mentions your name

and the whole damn time he's like ah yes this is normal friendship. you probably don't realise anything is going on with him though, because kakashi is just weird in general. he does all this strange shit and no one questions it. you encounter him in the makeup aisle of a store on the other side of town from where he lives, and he thinks the jig is up, but you literally just assume he's doing Kakashi Things. and he thinks he's so slick

when it does finally hit him though, it hits him HARD. I see him finally realising he's in love in a very random, domestic moment

okok I've got it. he's back from a pretty tiring mission and he just instantly wipes out in his apartment as usual, doesn't bother getting groceries or anything. he figures he can survive off the food pills in the cupboard for a few days until he has the energy to grocery shop

then you just.....show up at his apartment??? carrying grocery bags?? and start putting food in his fridge????

kakashi doesn't really know how to react to this, but he feels bad just standing there, so he kinda sheepishly shuffles over and starts helping you put the groceries away. and it's nice. this is when he realises

literally drops whatever he's holding. this is a big oh shit moment for him. he lowkey really panics, he has no idea what he's supposed to do with these feelings, it's the dreaded L Word and that's scary as hell. he goes super quiet and avoids eye contact bc he's convinced you're going to read his mind

and of course you think this is Kakashi Things yet again. he's just weird. even over the next few weeks when he starts acting REALLY strange - avoiding you like the plague one day, attached to your hip the next - you don't think much of it. and this makes it sooooo much worse for him lol. he's never going to confess on his own

it's honestly torture for him. he's losing sleep over this. kakashi hatake??? in.... LOVE???? impossible

please please please just let one of your mutual friends intervene. hopefully he (drunkenly) confesses to someone, and they're able to pull some strings to force you to talk to each other. he may literally pass out when he has to confess to you, but just roll with it

tobirama

oh god it's so cliche for tobirama but I have to do it. ENEMIES TO LOVERS

like look at him. he's so smug. he has a lot of pride, so he's pretty likely to end up having some kind of political/ideological rivalry with you. maybe you tend to very vocally disagree with his ideas for the village or strategies for missions. and it annoys him so much, especially because you're articulate and convincing with your points

so he's in this weird position where he has respect for you and your intelligence..... but you also infuriate him to no end. over time, he starts to dwell on your encounters more and more - he thinks about them even when he's training, or relaxing at home, or away on a mission. and this just pisses him off more bc he literally cannot get a moment's peace from you

hashirama notices this WELL before tobirama does. and it makes him all giddy and excited bc he knows what it means, but he doesn't want to ruin the surprise for tobirama lol

honestly it gets to the point where he will ignore everyone else in the room just to debate with you. it's at this point that he starts to realise he's got strong emotions towards you, but he kind of just brushes it off as a rivalry. he definitely doesn't even consider the possibility that they're romantic feelings

tbh. you're going to have to be the one to make the first move. unfortunately for you, tobirama is hot AND irritating, so he's going to get under your skin just as much as you get under his. it probably ends up with a pretty heated confrontation at some point

lets say you've had a pretty big disagreement at a meeting, and he ended up getting his way with the rest of the council. so you storm into his office later that day to chew him out. and tobirama is in one of his smug asshole moods bc he 'won', which means he's just smirking at you. and this is the moment ok just kiss him. wipe the smug look off his face

it takes him a few seconds to react, but he definitely pushes you off and orders you out of his office. at first he's absolutely furious, but then he realises a few days later that he can't stop thinking about the kiss, and not necessarily in a bad way. he finds himself wishing he'd kissed you back, even if just out of curiosity

BUT tobirama is stubborn so he won't admit that to you. he waits until he gets an opportunity to come argue with you, then seeks you out, and tries to goad you into kissing him again. hopefully he manages to piss you off enough to make you do it. because it's GOOD

he can't help but kiss you hard. probably pulls you into him by the jaw, wraps his other arm around your waist, won't let you go. don't wanna get too saucy here but I wouldn't be surprised if this gets a little steamy before he stops himself. he gets lost in the moment

then he pushes you off AGAIN lol it's so frustrating. this time it's bc he's like oh fuck. fuck. this is more than a rivalry

it's gonna end up a game of cat and mouse tbh. neither of you want to admit the depth of your feelings, but you also can't stay away from each other

[whosafraidofmarklee]

but if the story is over, why am i still writing pages?

pairings: anton x yn

genre: angst.... fluff, if u squint

wc: 1802 words

summary: 25 footnotes meditating on the failing relationship between anton and reader

notes: was seriously thinking about the form of footnotes as part of my own research...ending up conjuring this homunculus of a beast instead. not proofread, sorry lawls

1 Footnotes. I think that they can be poetic, if you let them be. When you first heard about footnotes, you laughed and said that it's so funny to visualise it. Yes, the foot of the whole page, notes relegated to the bottom of the paper. The superscript almost like the toes, spread out beyond the demarcated line. You always told me off for writing long ass footnotes at the end of my essays because: “nobody ever reads them, YN.” Because to you, all there is to know is in the main body of the text. But in our story, I think there is much to revisit for me to retrace where we begin falling apart. It doesn’t really do justice for me to go back into our main story to pick it apart — i’d like to stay in tact. I’ll revisit us through these notes. An afterthought. An undoing of our tapestry at its seams. Maybe then I can find out why you decided to leave me.

2 Correction: you used to tell people that we met because you saw me first, headlonging toward you after I tripped on my shoes. The truth is that I saw you first and felt like the entire universe condensed itself into this singular moment. Hence, my falling. I saw you first, not the other way round. I saw you first, and last.

3 Your laugh used to puncture through all my worries, no matter the day. Now I am puncturing our story with these words.

4 I still remember you stumbling over your words when you asked me out for dinner for the first time. Your voice soft, as if you were trying to  loosely stitch together all the words of this stupid language to present it to me. Your words floated in the air for awhile before tumbling down in the space between us. I said yes. Not because I felt bad that you embarrassed yourself in front of me. But because I saw you sitting next to me years down the road, having breakfast in our all-green kitchen, tired from a night of laughter and domestic silence.

5 We used to fight over which side of the bed we wanted to claim. Unlike normal couples that have a designated side, we kept each other on our toes when we snuggled into the other’s side when the other was in the bathroom. Never out of malice, no. We just couldn’t choose. The bed became a wrestling ground of space, and so became our dreams. We had always been slippery, perhaps. 

6 Are you finally reading this, Anton?  

7 I think the smell of chlorine is permanently infused into my nose’s DNA now from the days I spent sitting in that frigid swimming complex for you. I still remember your smug smile everytime you emerged from the water, droplets cascading off of your Greek structure. You used to doodle illegibly next to my notes on Greek sculptures: “hey thats me”; “tis me if i was greek”; “is this sculpture named anton”; “do u see me in dis yn”. It fascinated you. To answer your question, yes, I do see you in these sculptures. But not because of the similarities in physique. But because you withstood the test of time in the pantheon of my mind. 

8 Did you realise that the spark in your eye began dimming everytime I brought up our future? 

9 Was it here? When you came home late one day from an afterparty and couldn’t hold a proper conversation with me, complaining about being too worn out. When you used to barrel straight toward me after every victory, no matter the circumstance. But you begin spending more time with your team instead of coming home after your trainings. Unanswered texts, unoccupied spaces. I used to wait by our lovechair until my head lolled to the side. You never walked through on time.

10 You did apologise. Multiple times, in fact. And said that we could try again. And so we did.

10 There was one morning we went to the farmers’ market bright and early. Not that we had anything in mind to do there, you just wanted us to spend time together again. You had an obnoxiously huge baguette in your arms and I had bags of apples – the kind you loved – stuffed deep in my bag. Our hands were sweaty from holding onto each other through the crowd, as if the heat itself was trying mould us together. You were happy and I was too. “I wish everyday was like this”, you said. 

10 Something particularly devastating about two people who could just not get it right, no matter how many fresh starts we got. Did we use up all of ours in the span of two years? Was there an expiration date somewhere that I missed that you scrawled out on your own in the dark when I was fast asleep? 

11 Eleven footnotes too many.

12 I was the first person you always played your songs to. Even at the clunkiest, when your fingers would hesitate against the strings, or when your tongue couldn’t find it in itself to move. We went back to your papers and pen and started over.

13 We went on a trip once. You always slept in through your alarms and I was always an early riser. We got used to our rhythms by now, me with a book nestled next to your sleeping body, waiting until you stirred. The words on the page didn’t interest me anymore. I was watching you. Your fluttering lashes, how your chest expanded with every inhale, a merciful reminder to me that you were here. Even though we were 1268km away from home, you were here. 

14 Oh, or was it this time when you came home late again and I stood by the door, eyes scarlet and dry from waiting up. You did not text me or anything, but the moment you saw me standing by the door, it was like something clicked in your mind. “Did I make you wait again?”  

15 But the truth is, I would have waited forever. Even if it meant sitting through my grief, my petulance and my impatience. I would have rather sat behind that blue door we shared, knowing the exact way the floor creaked below your feet leading you back home to me, than to have not known it at all. Somewhere in between all this waiting, you decided to not make me wait anymore. 

16 You thought of it as an act of grace. You, being merciful to me. But time had always been merciful to us, we just had to bend it toward us and not let go. 

17 After you left, I wondered what I could do with all my waiting. All the time used up, waiting for you to come back to me. I prayed that the road we were heading down had a bend that we did not know of, or a roundabout where we would eventually bump into each other again at the same intersection, and we would laugh like we always did after mornings of badly-made coffee, our hands would naturally suture themselves together and we’d let our feet take our memorised route home.

18 Was it really mercy, Anton, that after you left, I saw your wide smile constructed through pixels, your elated eyes looking at someone else instead of me? That you seemed so fine when I am here writing my afterthoughts, combing through our story, as if I could fix language in itself. I can’t fix it. I know. And you’ve always hated my footnotes. I know that too.

19 But a part of me still hopes that you stayed and read through the bylines with me. That a part of you lay awake in the middle of the night, writing your own footnotes about us like I am doing right now. That perhaps your ultimate act of mercy is realising that you let time win and you’d finally decide to swim out of the circular ocean of unchanging numbers and not make me wait anymore.

20 Footnotes lay dormant, only coming to life when someone decides to read them. It is a form of waiting too. I am trying to resurrect us, even from the sidelines, can you hear me?

21 And if that is the case, I guess I can say anything I want as I hide in here. I miss you. And I love you. I’d throw away all the clocks in the world if it meant you don’t have to worry about me waiting anymore.

21 Doodle next to this note. Please. Anything at all. In your usual jagged writing. Even a dash of black ink from you would reignite every cell in me.

22 Is it ever possible to finish a story without notes? How can a body of literature ever be fully perfect and complete without the writer wanting to add? Do notes then provide structure, in addition to the predictable plot? Or do notes present itself as fragments? Fragmented thoughts amid a complete story. How do you even structure love after it has waned? Our love liquified at the very temperature that kept my heart beating and before I could gather it into a makeshift mould, hardened itself in the cracks of these letters. 

23 Anton, do you remember singing me to sleep everytime my insomnia punctuated my nights? You’d cradle me and tell me that everything is all right. Your sacccharine voice dulling all my bittersweet dreams. Sing me to sleep one last time, please. 

24 Have I bore you enough with my words? Did I keep you waiting?

25 Twenty-five footnotes for the twenty-five months we spent together. I can taste the ink on my tongue when I articulate the numbers. Twenty-five. I still miss you, at twenty-nine. I am beginning to think that there was never fault to begin with. Just like how numbers are chronological, letters naturally fall after the other, seasons come cascading without prompt, nothing I did could have stopped time from moving. Blame is easy when everything has already happened. Reliving our love through notes did not help, I was resurrected with every new comment I had but nothing more. None of these conjured you. I should put my pen down and walk away, I know. Resistance against what had been written cannot be fought alone. I’ll continue living our love through these scattered, pulsed ashes. Maybe you’ll find me here someday and we can tear up these pages and start anew. Continue writing the story without ever needing these afterthoughts. One complete story, one complete truth. I’ll continue waiting. It was the only thing I was ever good at, anyway. 

[monzamash]

it's impossible to win — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 2.5k summary – when you buy concert tickets with your ex but break up a couple of months before the gig, do you go or cut your losses? rating – mature (sexual references, coarse language) a/n – this was inspired by a lovely ask i received during my 2k celebration and based around the band alexisonfire x masterlist

just sent you the AOF tickets.

i told you to keep yours. you love them as much as i do. read

The glow of your phone was too bright, too harsh and so was the reality you didn’t want to face any time soon. You couldn’t keep them. How could you when the reputation of being the ‘notorious ex girlfriend of Daniel Ricciardo’ – man of the people, loved by millions shadowed you everywhere you went?

He was loved more than most and certainly more than you.

She was never good enough anyway; a parasite, they said when the news broke on the petty gossip pages, exposing that you and Daniel were no longer together, itemising every little detail of your downfall for the world to see. Those years of memories, years of loving privately disappeared and in its place were painful ones to heal. They were the best years of your life, or so you thought – blissfully unaware of the distance slowly growing between you and the man you loved more than most – but it wasn’t enough.

You weren't enough to fight for and especially not enough to love more than driving around a racetrack eight months out of the year. He was never there, out of sight and out of mind, leaving you battling for his attention. You weren’t cut out for it, simply put by him while on the other side of the world. It started as a late night phone call to ease the ache in your chest and to keep him close but he couldn’t have been further away. Physically and emotionally. Drifting.

“Babe, this is what you signed up for.”

“No, it’s what I tolerate – it’s what I sacrifice to love you.”

You broke down, knowing this was the end of your relationship and the only thing you could genuinely put your name to. You had lost yourself completely to his life, no longer something you could call your own. Abandoned dreams and forsaken friendships all so you could be there for him; drawn in to his world, naively consumed by his safety and the promise of a life lived together, not divided by oceans – lost to the fishes.

That was until you re-emerged from the lavish hotels and the private planes, sans Daniel – sans your soulmate. The day you ended that phone call, you knew he would be the hardest one to let go of; eternally the one that got away and the one relationship you would have to tell future boyfriends about. And they would probably gasp and ask, not the formula one driver? and you would have to nod and quash their insecurities because everyone loved Daniel.

But nobody loved him more than you do – did. Not even close.

“He said you should use the ticket and honestly, I don’t even think he’ll show up. He hasn’t come to anything we’ve organised since you two broke up – he’s not the kid we knew back in high school anymore… That’s why you dumped his arse, right?”

Right, but you couldn’t say that.

“I didn’t dump him. I just…” Just told him that he’s wasted the best years of my life chasing him around the world.

“… Said that if he couldn’t be there when I needed him or spent more than two seconds a year with me then I couldn’t do it anymore. And that’s it.” Well, not exactly.

“Sounds like a dumping to me and rightfully so. Look, I love Danny but he’s hard to be friends with, let alone pretending to be in domestic bliss with…”

Yes, but you respected Daniel too much to admit that. Hannah was his friend too, all of them were. You were kids all grown up, now adults wading their way through the treacherous seas of the real world, pretending like they had it all figured out. Ungracefully and riddled with anxiety but finally immune to bullshit and aware of what to expect out of an adult relationship.

The standards were higher now than when you were young and in love. Daniel was your childhood best friend, after all. Or more accurately, the boy you met on the first day of high school, all crooked teeth and bundles of frizzy brown curls. You were acne-ridden and shy, the weirdo girl, they called you until you became friends with Danny. He knew everyone and was loved by everyone – that was the one trait that had followed him through life.

He was the class clown and a cute distraction from the torture of high school but you weren’t the only one who thought so. Lunchtime quickly became your favourite part of every day because you got to sit beside him and eat your Vegemite sandwich, knowing all the other girls in your year seethed seeing you with him. 'That weird mole and Riccardo being friends doesn’t make sense' they’d whisper thinking you couldn’t hear them. But you could and they were right about one thing – you were only friends.

The slightest scent of a spring breeze reminded you of the hours you spent sat under the shady gum trees, watching him playing footy with the other boys while you fiddled with your walk-man and scratched the discs beyond repair as you changed them out, battling with the Sony aux chord that was hanging on for dear life by a slither of duct tape. You were fifteen when Daniel handed you a burnt CD with a hand-drawn skull in the shape of a heart and the letters AOF written in bold black sharpie, smudged from his impatience.

“What’s this?” You asked with squinted eyes, looking up at him and the blistering sun.

“The best fucking album you’ll ever hear.”

He told you years later that he was so proud of himself, thrilled that he was showing you new music. His competitive streak wasn’t exclusive to the karting track – no, it snuck its way into everything he did, specifically when it came to album recommendations and especially with you.

“It’s called Watch Out by Alexisonfire… you know, that punk band I said you would love. Give it a try. I promise it’s better than that fuckin’ Offspring album you won’t stop listenin’ to.”

“Well even if I do like it, I wont tell you now dickhead.”

But he was right. So infuriatingly right. You loved it, maybe because you loved him. He was your best friend, your closest confidante, your twin flame – all cheesy grin and beautiful brown eyes. Lips so full that whenever he spoke, you couldn’t look away. Dangerously entranced by your best friend. A label that haunted you every time it slipped from his tongue and one you desperately wanted to rip off like a band-aid.

You thought those feelings would be the kind of ones you'd painfully bury and take to your grave, heartbreakingly unrequited – until you found a hand-written note crumpled up at the bottom of the ripped CD sleeve. The blotchy blue pen and creases in the lined paper made it hard for you to read his distinctive, yet messy boyish cursive.

song 4 – side walk when she walks (made me think of you)

The sound of frantic clicking bounced off your lilac coloured walls as you skipped to track four; a spinning screech filled the anticipated silence before the sound of a melodic guitar filtered through the muffled headset.

Dressed to kill, you look so right I am drunk with lust tonight Your wounds are opening wide And they might be just my size

Warmth rushed to your chest, your neck and up to your cheeks when you realised what it all meant. And it wasn’t the last time Daniel made your body feel like it was on fire, sitting on his messy bedroom floor and kissing until you couldn’t breathe, the soft sounds of your new favourite band playing on his stereo – heart beating so fast you could’ve died, happily in his arms.

But you weren’t horny teenagers anymore and that memory was blurrier now than it had ever been. It had been muddied with all the sad ones, the fights and the tears – the irreversible emotional damage that you had done to each other. You weren’t a saint, god knows and you took full responsibility for your part and so did Daniel. But that was where it ended – in a seemingly amicable split.

No love lost, only misplaced for a while.

It felt like all eyes were watching you as you walked into the small club, ears already tingling with the reverberation bouncing off the blackened walls – if only they could talk. Musky bodies and the hint of cigarettes filled the air while your combat boots stuck to the floor with every step you took into the lion’s den, making your path to closure hard fought. Maybe it was a sign to turn back; anything could’ve convinced you to swing by the exit on your left until you saw him.

He was dressed head to toe in black with a cap securely pulled over his eyes, hiding away from the curious ones. In any other crowd it would’ve been a piss-poor disguise, so obviously him but he blended in with the dark walls and the growing crowd, all wearing the unofficial uniform of an elder emo – baggy sweater, ripped skinny jeans and torn up Vans. And you were no different.

"You made it!!", a friend greeted, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug while you took in the circling faces. There were a few you never thought you would see again, people who were only your friend by proxy and ones he’d picked up along the way. And it was clear by the way everyone greeted you that he hadn’t dragged your name through the mud, maybe he kept the details of the break up quiet like you.

But the reality for Daniel was that he was too broken to even process what had happened. He came home to an empty apartment after a double-header with no way to contact you, to make things right. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the couple of months you’d been apart was enough either. And he was right. The sharp pain in his chest and the way his hands shook when he saw you confirmed it. He was fucked.

“Fuck,” Daniel groaned and turned to his mate, “What am I doing here, man…” 

All he could do was let out a soft laugh and pat his friend on the shoulder, “You’re an idiot.”

Daniel readjusted his cap and let out a strangled, “I know.”

You promised your friend that you’d be fine, like water off a ducks back. All the side glances and murmurs meant nothing to you anymore, the insecurity you had now was nothing compared to when you were actually dating Daniel. Consumed in his bubble, unable to escape the crushing scrutiny. Another wag bites the dust, they said, gone with no explanation other than your obvious absence in the paddock.

It didn’t matter anymore; nothing could hurt more than losing him.

But you still felt it, bubbling away in the pit of your stomach. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night, especially when you thought it would last forever. Nostalgia won the battle against the wound in your chest for a moment, still festering without treatment – knowing the only person who could heal it was miles away emotionally but was now in your line of vision. Seeing him in the flesh hurt more than you’d anticipated, more than you could’ve ever imagined. You still loved him, after everything.

The bubbles of excitement quickly dissipated and twisted into knots when you thought about what you had lost – a wave of anxiety washed over, churning away at any ounce of courage you’d mustered to even turn up to this stupid fucking show. You were cursing yourself, cursing your friend who had convinced you that he probably wouldn’t even turn up and that the odds were in your favour. She was so, so wrong.

“Ignore him and come dance.”

She was in damage control, dragging you away from the small gathering of friends and Daniel, who couldn’t tear his eyes away. His warm stare burned holes through your leather jacket as he watched you walk off into the crowd – and away from him again. It was becoming a habit of yours that he loathed. The house lights felt like a spotlight on your bruised ego but you pushed through the warm bodies, putting as much distance as you could between you and your past. The support band sounded great, mostly because it drowned out the soul-crushing thoughts swirling in your mind and brought you some much needed reprieve from your pity party.

You didn’t feel like yourself at all – you were the shell of the woman you used to be and you certainly weren’t the woman you wanted to show up as either. Strong, independent, single and thriving – you were none of those things, entirely the opposite in every way, so you had to dig deep and fake it. And you were a great actor but not tonight.

Not when you felt a gentle poke to your bicep. The lights rotating and strobing above made it impossible to see who was standing beside you, hand offering an icy bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime. It nearly slipped from your shaky fingers when you grasped it, whispering a soft thank you as the house lights went down and the swell of the surging crowd rumbled under foot.

“I wanted to have a chat but…” Daniel pointed to the stage, yelling over the drummer that had taken his rightful place behind his kit.

“Maybe later?” And you nodded yes, sending him a reassuring smile as the band began to play.

You could be diplomatic and hear him out – you owed yourself that at least and deserved closure from all the unanswered questions.

Daniel kept his distance, knowing he was in the wrong and that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life. And it wasn’t long until his heart stalled in his chest when he heard that painfully recognisable guitar riff filter through the thick air, the one he couldn’t listen to without thinking of you and he could see the way your eyes glazed with tears when you heard it; the opening chords to the song he had dedicated to you all those years ago on that stupid burnt cd.

Maybe you missed him too.

“This ones called side walk when she walks.”

You reached down, without even looking and grasped his hand that was hanging loosely between your stiff bodies. Daniel interlocked his shaking fingers with yours and squeezed them as your head dropped to his shoulder, resting there while you both swayed to the music. You felt safe for the first time in months, comforted by his presence.

Of course you missed him. He was your person.

And this was your band; the band you shared together for over half your lives, their songs played while you fell in love with one another. They were the band you lost your virginity to, humming softly in the background and wishing that feeling would last forever. You remembered blasting ‘to a friend’ in the car on the way to your graduation and Daniel nearly getting pulled over by the cops, laughing until your sides hurt. And they were the band you would always save for your road trips along the coast, both there in Los Angeles and back home.

These were the songs that soundtracked your life with Daniel.

They were your band – and they’d brought you back together.

a//n – this was wildly self indulgent so if you hated it, let me know lol but also lmk if you liked it because i loved writing it x masterlist | askbox

[the-literary-apothecary]

Savanaclaw Headcanons

𓃦 ₊��⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

Genre: Romantic and/or Platonic

Characters Included: Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchie, and Leona Kingscholar

Prompt: Just some headcanons I made originally for my little sister. They're revamped for a wider and mature audience.

Slight warning: My headcanons include a variety of song selections. Not all are appropriate. So listen to them at your own risk and choice.

(Edit: The orange ones were what my best friend recommended)

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

.°˖✧ Jack Howl ✧˖°.

𓃦 Relationships? Pfft! Never!..

(Yes he would, he’s a liar. Even the game admits that he’s a tsundere that can’t keep up with the bit. So let’s dissect that a little)

(According to Jack, wolf beastmen normally have one person that they consider their special someone. Only, because they mate for life and are never apart no matter what. Because Jack is confident that he will have that sort of life in the future, he’s not actively seeking someone.)

(In other words, he’s completely okay with the concept of love. He just doesn’t necessarily follow modern dating culture. Not only that, but he’s fine with no getting much romantic attention. Which means, hope you’re patient, because this is the slowest slow burn to ever slow burn)

𓃦 He’s a very sweet guy towards you.

An utter gentleman that does his best to make sure you’re happy, safe, and most of all comfortable around him. This isn’t how he looks up to Ruggie and treats him also like a higher up. This is different, because for his special someone, it’s more. Which is why he goes beyond the limit that he sets himself.

You’re thirsty and want a specific drink? He’ll sprint to Sam’s Shop (which just so happened to be on the other side at the academy) and hand it to you with a happy tail wagging. Do you need a hair tie? Well, he just Happened to have a scrunchie in his bag. Totally not because he bought a small scrunchie packet for you in case you forget yours. It’s raining and there’s a puddle? Well, he doesn’t have a jacket- so he’ll have to just throw himself on the puddle. That one was a bit of an exaggeration, but you get it. He’s not going to hide how much he cares about. Because he sees no reason to. You’re his forever.

𓃦 His nickname for you

He doesn’t like most flowers. Mostly because they’re usually too smelly and strong smells give him a headache. But he does like most plants, especially his cacti. His nickname for you could be flower. Because for him, it’s one of the few flowers worth protecting, and worth having so close.

𓃦 His love language(s)

His love languages are touch and words of affirmation. As much as he’ll deny he doesn’t enjoy it, it’s hard to believe anything he says when a good hug gets his tail wagging, you know?

𓃦 Part of the family? Of course!

While it may take a while for the two of you to get together, it's undeniable how inseparable you two have become.

Every summer, once you two are actually together, he’ll take you to his home to meet his family and go sailing with his little siblings. For him, it’s nice to have someone his age. It makes looking after his little siblings a lot easier.. Not to mention that it’s unapologetically domestic. Which makes his aspirations for a love like his family seem all the more reachable.

𓃦 Songs Jack could listen to:

✓ Whoomp (There it is!) by Tag Team

✓ Who Let the Dogs Out? By Baha Men

✓ Pump It! By The Black Eyed Peas

✓ My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by Fall Out Boy

✓ Phoenix by Cailin Russo

✓ Enemy by Imagine Dragons

✓ Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

𓃦 Songs that make me think of Jack:

✓ Running with the wolves by Aurora

✓ White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes

✓ Does the Swallow Dream of Flying by Cosmo Sheldrake

✓ Run Boy Run by Woodkid

✓ Hope by NF

✓ Guillotine by Jon Bellium

✓ Out of My League by Fitz and The Tantrums

.°˖✧ Ruggie Bucchie ✧˖°.

𓃟 Love? Yeah sure, why not?

Ruggie’s not against the idea of a relationship, he just doesn’t see himself in one any time soon because of all the trouble on his plate.

He doesn’t have a lot of free time. And he can’t pay for others when going out, he can barely pay for himself. I mean, this is the same guy who uses Leona’s hand me downs for school. You take a guess how much cash he has in his pocket.

Can’t really buy flowers or chocolates for someone he might like. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try to charm your socks off.

Ideally, he would like to be with someone understanding of his financial troubles. And doesn’t expect to completely bend his back over for them. Afterall, a relationship is supposed to be a two way street, right? He may not always have time for you because of his jobs or side hustles, but that sure doesn’t mean he won’t try and be there for you.

So what if he can’t give you some shiny roses for your anniversary? He can find some wild flowers in a field and give you a pretty flower crown just for you. It’s the thought that counts, right?

All in all, he wants someone supportive. Someone equally fervent on their goals and willing to be a sorta partner in crime.

No one’s perfect. And hey, you may not fit the bill. But make him happy. That’s the most important thing… and maybe buy him some donuts on his birthday if you can.

𓃟 He’s your backup!

Ruggie once in a while helps do your makeup for ceremonies. He’s not the most professional, but he had a part time job for it once. He knows how difficult it can be to fix yourself up for events. He’ll carry any emergency makeup in his pockets or bag, since he knows you well enough that you might need a touch-up midway.

Things like that are stuff you really appreciate. Because it's not just makeup.

Sometimes it's snacks he made for when you're hungry (which you two are both definitely sharing). Sometimes he keeps your sunglasses for certain occasions.

In other words, if you're a little bit of the forgetful type, he's got you covered. Don't worry, he likes being helpful. And besides, you'll never be as bad as Leona when it comes to taking care of you.

Caring for you is a choice. And a choice he doesn't regret doing. You're worth the trouble, a lot more than you think.

𓃟 You’re his cheerleader!

He’ll happily admit that he enjoys it when you cheer him on during practices and games. It’s so different now that you’re around. Before, he played for the possibility of getting a scholarship, or getting noticed by any companies that are recruiting more players… but now he plays so you can cheer him…. AND because of money. So it’s a win/win!

𓃟 His nickname for you

Calls you deer on purpose. Because it sounds like dear, the affirmational pet name, and the animal. You’re not a lot like him. Much more of a goody two-shoes. He loves you all the same. It’s his nickname for you.

𓃟 He's kinda clingy

Hyenas are very clingy partners, especially the males (don’t hold me up on that). So, he’s openly pretty touchy. Holding your hand to walk you to class, hugging you after not seeing you all day. A lot of forehead kisses to assure you of things. But never too much. He cares about how you’re feeling more than anything. He’ll never push for anything more than what you want.

Speaking of touch, he despises it when you tug his tail. Please stop doing that. He knows it’s fluffy and stuff. You can brush, but enough with the pulling.

𓃟 His Love language(s)

His love language is acts of service and words of affirmation. He’s been told that he’s just a runt all his life. Forced to work twice as hard as the kids his age because he’s not privileged like everyone else. Sometimes a guy likes being told that he’s doing great. Or that he’s doing his best.

Acts of service is particularly his favorite because he doesn’t really have enough money to buy you most of the things you want. And any money he does receive from his jobs and side-gig is always used for his necessities. He barely has enough clothes for himself, let alone he has enough to buy you something you want..

He’s really grateful for the little things. When you fold his laundry, tend out the clothes, get in line for him at the cafeteria. You make the burden he carries a little easier. And he’s grateful for that.

Likewise, he does the same. Of course, you picked the worst tutor imaginable, but he does try his best to help you with homework. For you, he prefers preparing meals for you and ironing your uniforms in the morning. But this depends if you’re a morning person or not. If you’re a morning person instead, he’ll have your bed ready and your pajamas all picked out so that you can just slip them off and head straight to snoozing.

𓃟 Part of the family? Of course!

Once you two are together, he’s very happy to introduce you to his grandma. He knows that she’ll love you.

Sometimes he’ll wonder if his mom would love you just as much if she were alive. He doesn’t think about his parents often. But he knows that his relationship with you isn’t a regular one. I mean, who gives leftover quiches from scratch instead of flowers on dates? Still, he hopes he’s enough. That he’s doing enough for you. It would suck if he wasn’t. If there really was a wish that could come true from his heart… He’d wish for a high paying job, and for handmade bouquets to stop being so out of his budget.

𓃟 Songs Ruggie could listen to:

✓ Lose Yourself by Eminem

✓ Where this Flower Blooms by Tyler, The Creator

✓ Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar

✓ Fuck Da Police by Dr. Dre

✓ Cash In Cash Out by Pharell Williams, 21 Savage, Tyler, The Creator

✓ redrum by 21 Savage

✓ HISS by Megan Thee Stallion

𓃟 Songs that remind me of Ruggie:

✓ Prrrum by Cosculluela

✓ Arcangel: Bzrp Sessions Vol. 54

✓ Tango del Pecado by Calle 13

✓ Rompe by Daddy Yankee

✓ Delincuente by Tokischa, Anuel AA, Nengo Flow

✓ Soy una Gargola by Alex Gargolas, Randy

✓ Chambea by Bad Bunny

(Edit: My best friend and I have claimed him as the honorary latino in the group. Sorry not Sorry.)

.°˖✧ Leona Kingscholar ✧˖°.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Love? Ugh

This walking ball of sass barely has a single romantic bone in his body. If he can somehow find a way to kill the mood of a romantic night where all the stars are out, then yes, he kills his own chances at love because he probably thinks something stupid along the lines that he seldom deserves it.

Something like, what self-respecting lady (or gentleman or in-between) could ever want something as pathetic as him.

However, as self deprecating and difficult as this man can get, I don't think he's utterly against the concept. Simply apprehensive. It's not just a slow burn. It's a slow burn where you gotta learn how to make the damn candle first with this one.Not to mention that he's gonna be questioning for most of it once he realizes how much he softened up for you.

For Leona, you just need to be patient.He doesn't need to love himself first to love you. He just needs proof that your love for him won't disappear after the hard times. (In other words when he's being the most difficult)

He'll return that love in full once he sees it's worth of shot.

Just make him feel he's worth a sacrifice. And what better way than simply giving him your heart?

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ His nickname for you

If you’re shorter than him, he’s calling you little mouse. Not just because you’re shorter, but because of how much you meddle and have enough guts to seek him out the way you do. The nickname also stems from Aesop’s “A Lion and the Mouse”

The story is about a mouse that pleads for his life against a lion. The lion, being amused by the idea of a defenseless creature like the mouse helping, laughs at the idea and releases him. By the end of the fable, it’s the mouse that saves his life when he gets caught in a huntsman’s trap.

Leona sees this sort of relationship between you and him. Being able to spot each other in different situations. He may never verbally admit it so easily, but he does have a tender spot for you in that dumb rock in his chest he calls a heart. Which is why he gets annoyed if you’re ever too insecure of your own abilities. He knows what you’re capable of. So it’s irritating when you don’t.

“Really herbivore? This song and dance again? Hard to believe this is the same little mouse that helped in defeating me back in the Magical Shift tournament.”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Not the nicest sharer

Despises sharing his food, but will act none the wiser when you sneak a bite from his plate. It’s gutsy. As long as you try to be discreet, he won’t tell.. Much. Just don't be surprised when he does the same with little apology.

It’s not just food either. He’s just very territorial with most things.

You of course are included. The moment he sees someone in his peripheral vision giving you enough of hard time that it’s causing a racket, then suddenly your problem is also his problem

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ You wanna scare him? Hah!

Good luck trying to scare this hardass. His senses are too sharp for that. So it’s really hard to actually get him scared. Leona’s capable of even sensing someone watching several clicks away. But, since it’s you, if you try to scare him… he might just act a little bit. Maybe a little jump or a twitch to give you motivation. Lions do that for their cubs so they can have more motivation to improve their skills for hunting. It’s basically what he’s doing so that you don’t get all sour with him… even if he thinks it’s really funny how mad you get about it.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Personal Space? Never heard of her (According to you)

He hates it when you’re interrupting his naps. Cats need their sleep, you know? Not to mention they’re incredibly territorial of where they go, so he’s not too keen on sharing his secret spots. The only time he’ll be quiet about it is when you really need him. Say you’re emotional and you need an ear to listen to your woes. He’ll be incredibly grouchy, but he’ll listen and give you the advice you need. Always…. And then ask you to get the heck out of his spot before Ruggie catches him.

Ironically though, if he’s feeling the mood, then he’s gonna invade your room and lay down without a single word. He likes your space. Because it’s you.

Still a hypocrite though.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ His Love Language(s)

His love language is quality time. Spending time together, playing chess, taking a nap, reading. That’s what he likes the most. As long as it’s together, he doesn’t mind all that much. He’s more of a listener than a talker anyways- just don’t go yapping for hours on end. He still has his short fuse, rest assure you. It’s just that he’s a bit more patient with you.

Speaking of love languages, he likes gift giving. Specifically giving you the gifts. Doesn’t really matter what it is. If you’ve mentioned something you like, he might be inclined to give it to you… if you deserve it. As if he’s going to spoil anyone rotten just because… But don’t be too surprised when you’re fatigued after a very long day of hard work and he “coincidentally” gave you your favorite snacks and drink.

“Do you gotta make a big deal out of everything herbivore? I’m just giving you something to eat so you can keep working. It’s called being a good leader”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Songs Leona could listen to:

✓ Be Prepared from The Lion King (but this is canon soo.. yeah)

✓ Leona doesn’t seem much like the type to listen to music. He’s too in his own head to really do that. As long as it’s not too pitchy or annoying, he most likely won’t care. Just don’t make it so boring he’ll fall asleep.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Songs that remind me of Leona:

✓ Inertia by AJR

✓ THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND by Bad Omens

✓ DEVILISH by Chase Atlantic

✓ Nothing’s New by Rio Romero

✓ You Fuckers Were Asking for This One by Rav

✓ Skin Deep Comedy by Milli

✓ Forever Ended Today (Max’s Song) by mid

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

Author's Note

To read more fanfics, go to my list of fanfics (plus information about my page) here

Making these hcs killed me inside. They were supposed to be posted in August. But the amount of errors I had writing this on Tumblr made me want to dispose of this post entirely.

Regardless, hope you like them. Don't take em too seriously ;w; especially the Ruggie ones.

More fics to come.

Buenas noches

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

౨ৎ good morning ౨ৎ

summary: reader and bucky are very much in love and have their morning routine down to a tee. bucky manhandles the reader a lot but not in a weird way, just in an "i love you and can't live without you" kinda way.

warning: fluffffff (bucky and reader are EXTREMELY in love and love to show it)

wc: 1.8k

pairing: domestic!bucky x reader

a/n: I wrote this between the hours of 11PM-1AM when i was feeling especially psychotic. I am so sleep deprived I’m sorry. But I just came up with this sweet little scenario and had to write it down. This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to daydream.

playlist:

౨ৎ

You opened your eyes, groaning as soft sunlight filtered through your open blinds. You tried remembering the dream you had just abruptly woken up from. Something about a tall, muscular, brown-haired man. The man of your dreams. The man whose arms were now around you from behind, caging you to his warm chest.

You turned around to find Bucky gently stirring in the light of the sunrise. You reached your arms out around his shoulders as he slowly blinked his eyes open. You were both morning people and were glad for it because it meant the two of you were in sync. Neither of you got much sleep, what with Bucky being plagued by his nightmares and you by your insomnia. However, you were in it together, making hell sightly more endurable.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, burying his face in your chest. You squirmed slightly in his arms as his thick beard scratched your chest. You were coming to like his grown-out facial hair. It made him look like a soft teddy bear rather than a violently beautiful Greek god. Yes, you quite preferred this look to his freshly shaven one with his chiseled cheekbones and jawline of steel on full display. With his beard, he looked somewhat more approachable, more domestic, and more lovable than ferociously intimidating.

“Good morning, my moonlight,” you whispered. He was the moonlight to your sunshine, the darkness to your light. He complimented you so perfectly that it sometimes made you want to cry.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts by pulling your body on top of his. “Mmh, I love you so much,” his voice was slightly muffled as his face was still smushed against your chest, and he wrapped his thick arms around your back, securing you in place on top of him.

“I love you too, baby boy,” you combed your fingers through his hair. It was much shorter than it used to be, but it was starting to grow out like his beard. You were not complaining, however. The long summer days the two of you spent swimming in the pool caused his hair to curl at the ends, and it was a lighter shade of brown now than it was during the colder months.

“Wanna stay here with you forever,” Bucky mumbled into your chest, peppering sweet kisses to your neck and jawline before lazily moving his lips all over your face.

“C’mon, Bucky, you say this every morning,” you giggled. “We gotta get up soon, bubs. We have things to do and people to see.” You pushed his face away, scrunching your nose when you caught a whiff of his morning breath.

“They can wait,” he muttered, half-heartedly batting his arm at the air like a petulant child. You almost giggled but caught yourself. You couldn’t encourage him on like this. You actually did have a lot of errands to run later in the day and a long to-do list to accomplish. While you wanted nothing more than to indulge Bucky (because, duh, why would you want to do anything but lay here in your soft bed, basking in the morning light with the man you loved), you knew you needed to be an adult and put your responsibilities first if you wanted to prevent your life from falling apart. You decided to give him ten more minutes. After that, you would force yourself to get up.

You almost fell back asleep, tangled up in his arms. In fact, you probably would have if it hadn’t been for your grumbling stomach. You were past the point in your relationship where this embarrassed you. In fact, you were grateful to your stomach for choosing to be so loud because otherwise, you might not have gotten out of bed all day.

But before you could leap out of bed and berate Bucky for almost making you fall asleep again, he leaped up, carrying you like a child. Of course, he would get up when you were in danger of being hungry. “Can’t let my pretty doll starve, now can I?” he smirked down at you.

“Barnes, you have five seconds to put me down!”

“Five, four, three, two…,” Bucky ran into your shared bathroom, clutching you in his arms like you were a football. “…one! Touchdown!” he plopped you down on the toilet’s closed lid, holding onto your shoulders for balance as he let out a belly laugh.

“I hate you,” but you were smiling a mile wide even as you said it.

“Aw, that’s too bad, doll,” Bucky fake-pouted at you, backing away out of the bathroom. “Because I lava you very very much.” He said the last part in his silliest baby voice, scrunching up his face to give you air kisses as he turned to leave.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning like you had won the lottery. Truthfully, you had won the lottery because if wealth was measured in happiness, you were ecstatic, floating above everyone else. It was the same silly routine every morning, with Bucky forcing you to cuddle him in bed for at least a half hour and then bolting up with you in his arms whenever your stomach grumbled. He knew you were grumpy when you didn’t have any food in you, so he started on breakfast when you got ready in the bathroom. When you offered to switch roles, he said this was optimal since you liked to brush your teeth before breakfast, and he brushed his teeth after. Your heart melted at the memory. Your boyfriend got your breakfast ready for you when you came downstairs. Every single morning, without fail. It was the little things that made you fall in love over and over.

You finished your skincare routine and headed downstairs to find the same scene as every morning: Bucky with a kitchen towel over one shoulder, plating whatever he made for breakfast. Today, he had made a fluffy stack of pancakes and scrambled eggs. He had even gone the extra mile to put spinach and chopped tomatoes in the eggs and had added fresh berries and banana slices on top of the pancakes. The sight of the sticky sweet syrup oozing down the sides of them was enough to make your mouth water.

You snuck up behind him and snaked your arms around his torso. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you punctuated each one with a kiss to his shoulder blades and neck. “Did I tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life?”

“Only about a HUNDRED TIMES A DAY,” he turned around quickly in your arms, grabbing you under the thighs to lift you up. He clasped his arms together, forming a sort of seat in midair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and crashed your lips onto his, melting into him, his pillowy lips warm on yours.

You barely noticed that he had backed into the fridge until you felt the cool metal against your back through Bucky’s thin cotton T-shirt. You continued kissing him voraciously and suddenly remembered Tony scarfing down a Burger King cheeseburger when he had returned from his brief kidnapping in the desert.

You broke away laughing at the mental comparison you made of yourself kissing Bucky to Tony when he was starving after being in the desert.

“Whatcha laughin’ at doll?” Bucky panted, a slight smile creeping onto his lips.

“Oh, nothing,” you panted back. “Just shut up and kiss me.” You were back to business, your lips back on his, feeling like a dog deprived of its bone. Bucky opened the refrigerator door, never once breaking the kiss. You kept your eyes closed, one hand still raking through his soft hair as you used the other to grab the milk carton from the door. You secured it in your hand without faltering, then brought your hand back to rest against his shoulder blade as Bucky shut the door and walked you back over to the counter. Once you safely sat down, you pulled away, gasping for air, desperate as a fish out of water for more of him. His hands were on your hips, his name was on your lips, over and over again like your only prayer.

Bucky grabbed his mug of coffee from where he had left it in the coffee machine and brought it to where you sat, a bright smile adorning his face. You returned the grin and poured a smidge of milk into his cup. When you had first started living together, you were aghast to find that Bucky drank his coffee black without a single drop of milk or spoon of sugar. It had taken some convincing, but you were thrilled when he finally agreed to stop torturing himself and drink his coffee with milk like a normal human being. Although he still used less than a tablespoon of milk and no sugar or creamer, it was a start.

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite, preferring matcha as your morning drink of choice, which required your mug to be 95% full of milk with the other 5% being, of course, the matcha powder, ice cubes, and copious amounts of honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.

“Oh, I heated up some water and mixed in the matcha powder for you already,” Bucky pointed at the mug beside you, his other hand still warm on your thigh.

“Thank you, bubs,” you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His cheeks pinked at the suddenness of it, and he ducked his head, shying away from your gaze.

“Aw, it’s nothin’,” he smiled up at you, eyes sparkling beneath his thick lashes. “Here, lemme get you some ice.”

The momentary loss of his hands on your thighs made you whine slightly, but he was back as soon as he left, ice tray in hand.

“Here you are, babycakes.”

You took the tray, beaming at him, then plunked precisely three heart-shaped ice cubes into your cup. You handed the tray back to Bucky, and he left to return it to the freezer before returning to stand between your thighs from where you sat on the countertop. You poured a generous amount of milk into your cup and reached for the honey to drizzle some in. Stirring your drink, you clinked your mug with his before taking your first sip.

You sighed reveling in the mild sweetness of your drink. It was just the way you liked it.

"Alright, doll, let's get some breakfast in you before we run today. We doing intervals or easy?"

"I actually wanted to go for a long run, Buck," you held his gaze from behind your mug.

"Cold plunge after?" he smiled already knowing your answer.

"Yes," you nodded your head vigorously, giddy at the prospect.

౨ৎ

[1eos]

I got the purple reader too! I hadn't thought about my taste like that honestly. Though I think the book recs didn't seem to interest me necessarily. (Or well, I just donnnt like Murakami :/ ) Do you have any book recs that you think would also suit this kinda style?

i thought i was being snooty when i wasn't vibing with any of the book recs but everyone else was like 'damn these recs are ASS'. like i saw ishiguro's never let me go on there and honest to god scrolled back up thinking the quiz was for summer reading 😭 and GOD i hateeeee murakami. ppl keep toting him as some kind of revolutionary but every time i try to read his shit its deadass just man making his objectification of women verbose and 'deep' but if only if you're like 17 and have no life experience idk.

but YES i do have some purple reader recs! the description focused on books being dream-like, innovative, pushing the envelope or being experimental so i'd say:

in the dream house by carmen maria machado - a memoir but packaged in a way that's more like a domestic horror short story anthology about how abuse escalates in a relationship is akin to a haunting in a way. not easy to explain but it's SO good and carmen maria machado just has a very dream-like way of writing

ring shout by p djeli clark - one of the most unique books ive read concept wise. its an alternate historical supernatural novel where in the mid 1900s the kkk is actually like a demonic clan and these black hunters are tasked with taking them out. and omg the main character has this recurring nightmare and there's a major reveal abt that and it's stayed with me FOREVER

a tale for the time being by ruth ozeki - the book that got me back into writing. ruth's a writer and lives on an island and finds a lunchbox on the beach that has the journal of a japanese girl named nao who is being bullied in school and wants to chronicle why she's gonna kill herself. and it's such a long lasting story abt not hope per se but the infinite amount of growth and resilience of the human spirit and how buddhism is the wave basically lol

the nine lives of rose napolitano by donna frietas - i've never encountered a book that focused on alternate timelines without being heavy into scifi like this one. the book starts with rose on the fritz with her husband bc she's never wanted a baby but he's now pressuring her to have one and from this one confrontation it explores all the different ways her life can splinter and it's so interesting bc it doesn't go the cliche 'this is the life where im happy with a baby and here's a life where i'm miserable without one' it truly explores the deeper aspects of her marriage and how rose can find contentment no matter what. i really liked it at the end

jungian symbolism in astrology by alice o howell - i never know if ppl ever check out my astro book recs BUT this one is SO purple book coded. its abt astrology but you don;t need to know much because she doesn't talk abt methods but rather breaking down the meaning of astrology symbols. and it's not in a classic format its written like letters from the author to a dear friend. AND it goes beyond the basic astrology shit and really breaks down the importance of symbols and connects astrology to carl jung's ideas and it was such an interesting read that changed how i look at a lot of things

the night guest by hildur knutsdottir - a short but bold psychological horror. idunn realizes she's been sleepwalking and things happen. this is very dream like and very cold. very sparse. in a good way. a lot of american horror writers overwrite so this one was interesting in that it was more bare bones. the ending and the the reality of the horror is left really open ended and on goodreads a lot of ppl didnt like that but i fawking loved it

there's no such thing as an easy job by kikuko tsumura - follows the main character as she goes thru 5 different jobs after getting burnt out and the pitfalls of each job as means of 'escaping' the jobs that cause burn out if that makes sense. all of the 5 jobs are pretty unconventional and the main character accepts that even tho these jobs are 'easier' than her old job there's always just something that makes even an easy job complicated.

the secret lives of color by kassia st. clair - this is a nonfiction book about colors! like literally how we got the names for colors how we got them etc etc. i read it a long time ago but i remember that it was formatted really uniquely and written well

room by emma donoghue - read this for my humanities lit class in college a while ago but i never forgot it because i don't think i've ever read a book from the pov of a child in this kind of situation. basically jack's 5 and he's lived in a single room his entire life with his mom bc theyve been held captive by this weird ass old man. and the whole book you're like okay the mom's actions are kinda weird what's going on and then the reality of the situation sinks in and it's like...oh! all from the pov of a child that literally has only ever existed in a single room

[dialovers-lover-xoxo]

Ruki's Relationship Alphabet!

Sakamaki Brothers linked at the end!

Under a cut cuz it's long

I hope you enjoy! ❤️

--------------------------------------------------------

A - Activities (What activities do you do as a couple with him?)

Ruki enjoys reading together by the fire, kind of like a book club. You read the same chapter using the same book or separate books and then discuss. If you're sharing a book he'll seat you on his lap. He's very reserved with PDA but only the physical kind like kissing or being in his lap. He also teaches you how to ride a horse and you do that together. Even when it's a busy day, he makes time to hold and kiss you at night.

B - Beauty (What physical attribute do they admire about you?)

Ruki likes your face but can restrain from staring. He enjoys touching your hair and plays with it when you're sitting on his lap. He likes your legs and enjoys touching your waist and hips.

C - Comfort (How would they comfort you when you're upset or having a panic attack?)

Ruki handled it surprisingly well. He does the basic shushing noises and suggest you rest but listens and takes note of what you tell him will work and help. He'll calmly get rid of anything he thinks may cause you unease.

D - Dreams (Do they picture a future with you? If so, what does that future look like?)

Oh yes, absolutely. Obviously there's the whole Adam and Eve thing, but in general he likes the idea of a simple and domestic life. After being spoiled growing up he saw that he prefers to keep what he loves close and not be materialistic or over-flashy. He wants a marriage, kids, and his brothers close, all in one mansion.

E - Equal (Are they dominating/dominant in the relationship or passive?)

Ruki is incredibly dominant. Even in a true romantic relationship that will not change. He might occasionally enjoy you being a cheeky, but he will not tolerate what he sees as disrespect or disobedience.

F - Fight (Do they forgive easily? How do they fight?)

Ruki is a prideful man, but notably in later games, he can admit when he's gone too far. Apologizing isn't easy for him and you'd probably have to reach out first but amends will be made. He does not yell or throw or hit. But his low voice still instills fear and it still holds the dominance he's known for.

G - Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? How do they show their gratitude?)

Ruki is a prideful and arrogant man. Gratitude he has is more so being pleased that you're obeying him. He does have gratitude to your love and loyalty and he shows that with reciprocation and thoughtful actions more than he does with words. His words aren't explicit "thank yous" they are "You are what matters to me" and "You have made my life greater"

H - Honesty (Do they share everything with you? If they do keep something from you, why?)

Ruki is an honest man but at the same time he's not above keeping secrets, so long as he believes it's in your best interest or there's simply no reason for you to get involved. He is much more secretive and private regarding Karlheinz.

I - Inspiration (Did they get inspired to change by you? How so?)

Depending on if it's similar to a route where he's no longer loyal to Karlheinz, you've inspired him to remember love and family over all else, and that there are other ways to show appreciation for being alive and safe.

J - Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily? How do they act when they're jealous?)

Not so much jealous as he is simply possessive. Jealousy requires insecurity, a fear that your partner will leave you because they think someone's better. Ruki is certain you love him and are loyal to him, so it's possesiveness more so than it is jealousy. He is very possessive. You generally aren't allowed to talk to other men and your time with women is limited because he simply wants you in his sight at all times. Though he's happy you get along with his brothers and he knows nothing romantic or sexual would ever happen with his brothers and you, in the beginning he didn't like you interacting with them much but now he's fine with and he loves that you're a close family.

K - Kiss (Are they a good kisser? What are their kisses like? What was the first kiss like?)

Oh, yes, he's a very good kisser. Passionate but gentle. He's not a fan of tongue, he considers it sloppy, undignified and just kinda gross. He likes to possesively wrap his arms around your waist or cup your cheek softly. Your first kiss was kind of an experiment for him. He kind of just wanted to kiss you and it was before he had really come to accept romantic feelings.

L - Love Confession (What was their love confession like?)

It was unexpected to both you and him. He didn't blurt it out, he just kinda rambled on about how much he thinks if you and how happy you've made him and how beautiful you are and it just kinda escalated into this long-winded confession of love. He never confessed like "I realized I love you" it was more "You make me feel fulfilled in a way that can only be romantic love."

M - Marriage (Do they want to get married? How would they propose?)

Yes, absolutely. He wants it private so while the two of you tell his brothers the day after (even though they already figured it was coming) it happened in private, like in Ruki's bedroom. On one knee, with a gorgeous ring.

N - Nicknames (What do they call you as a term of endearment? Where did the nickname come from?)

Obviously there's Livestock, but he'll also call you "Love" unless you actually go by a shortened version of your name, he never refers to you by a shortened version of your name.

O - On cloud 9 (What are they like in love? Can other people tell?)

Ruki is a stoic man, but his brothers can tell. Even when he has his cold expression in public, there's a warmth in his eyes when he looks at or talks about you that simply can't be denied. Other people may notice if they pay attention.

P - PDA (Are they shy or upfront about their relationship with you? Will they kiss in public?)

He generally prefers physical PDA to be in private. He doesn't even feel comfortable doing it in front of his brothers, at least not often and not for long. He'll hold your hand and maybe give you a brief possessive kiss.

Q - Quirk (Something random about them that's beneficial in a relationship)

Though he originally did, he grows to not underestimate you. In fact, he has a strong belief in you and trusts you to make decisions, though he trusts himself more and remains pretty controlling

R - Romance (How romantic are they?What is their idea of romance like?)

He is romantic. Jewelry and flowers and always making time for a nice dinner with you. He especially always kisses your hand. Even when he's busy he does small romantic gestures like that.

S - Support (Do they help you reach your goals? Do they believe in you?)

He's very controlling and there will always be a power imbalance because he sees himself as your master, but he can be very supportive and he does truly admire and acknowledge your skills and intelligence so yes.

T - Thrill (Do they like trying new things in a relationship? Or do they prefer routine?)

He likes routine because he simply likes it simple. He's happy with a life with you and his brothers and kids eventually. Maybe a nice honeymoon or vacation for just the two of you.

U - Understanding (How well do they understand you)

He has a very good understanding of you but no one is 100% consistently predictable and because he considers himself to know you perfectly he tends to get more surprised than someone usually would if you act differently due to stress or something like that

V - Value (How important is your relationship to them?)

As important as his brothers. Just like in Dark Fate he originally said you were second to Karlheinz but realized that he was in denial.

W - Wild card (A random fluff headcanon)

He has a really witty sense of humor and loves when you laugh.

X - XOXO (Are they affectionate? Do they like to kiss and cuddle)

Yes, he's a huge snuggler, especially being the big spoon. He also enjoys kissing a lot so he's frequently affectionate.

Y - Yearning (How will they cope when they miss you?)

He's less clingy than other diaboys but there's always a sense of unease when you're not with him. He tries to distract himself or seek comfort in his brothers, mainly Azusa because Azusa is more intuitive and calm about things.

Z - Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for your relationship?)

Yes, without a doubt. Anything.

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[streets-in-paradise]

By Duty and Chance - Hector x (Fem) Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Requested by Anon

" (...) Soo basically anything you write about Hector is gonna be greatt. But i was thinking maybe that hector and reader are in arranged marriage ( yk enemies to lovers) but they end up falling for each other. "

YES, YES, YES!! ( ok, I'm gonna calm myself down now).

Just because I'm a simp, the enemy vibe was reduced a bit and the core conflict happens more on them falling at different paces. She was once on the geopolitical enemy side, cause she is a greek, but the marriage happened as a first step of negociations with another greek kingdom acting as nexus before the peace mission in Sparta.

Warnings: arranged marriage, reader starts fancying Hector before he gets into her. Pre war, but it adresses the political situation going on in Greece at the start of the movie and includes mentions to some Iliad characters that weren't in it because she is from Pylos and the movie showed nothing of Nestor's kingdom.

Summary: Your concerted political marriage to Prince Hector of Troy starts as a total disaster. Ashamed of your growing interest on him while the sorrow of a lost love keeps him distant, you focus on proving him you are a fitting wife to deal with his domestical problems before the conclussion of the peace mission started with your union would signal your first political act together.

Back in Greece for a diplomatical trip to Sparta, you come across a souless marriage product of another arrangement and the impact of that meeting calls you to redefine your relationship.

Note: Inspired by the arranged marriage prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting

" My love for one person could never trump the love I have for my people."

Tags: @g-m-kaye @thorsslxve

Sailing away for marriage so nobody else would have to do it for war was a noble act, but you were given the most abnormal circunstancies for the development of the plan.

King Menelaus of Sparta had had finally convinced his brother of creating an alliance with Troy, but the sons of Atreus weren't trully well versed on the language of peace. For so, King Nestor of Pylos offered himself to start the arrangements hoping to accomplish better results. As the only of his daughters available for a political marriage, you were selected to represent the first collaborative gesture of the greeks.

Once Prince Hector of Troy would have made you his wife, he would be in optimal conditions to deal with the Atreides and pact peace as a royal with bonds to he land already established. You father and his were of similar ages, they knew and respected each other despite of standing in opposite sides of the world. It made perfect sense that you would be given to them as a good will present to start the negociations.

The journey was too long and the advice of Nestor was required by the mycenaeans for the ongoing war on Thesaly. Without him, Agamemnon wouldn't be able to persuade Achilles to do his part in the way it would be commanded for him to do. Since your father couldn't split himself in half to attend the needs of each king, the leadership on the diplomatical mission was given to one of your brothers. Antilochus, favorite of the king and your people, delivered you to Troy doing his best to provide a supportive company for you in the difficult time. However, knowing that your father wouldn't be there increased the transactive feeling of the situation.

It was all a bargain between nations, and you were an object being moved from one place to the other.

Bonded for the rest of your life to a man your parents didn't even bother in meeting face to face.

Fame spoke wonders of your future husband, so worthy of trust that your father felt relieved and genuinely happy when the news of Priam's acceptance for the proposal reached Pylos. Hector was claimed to be the sort of man that any father could want for his daughter, that all mothers would feel proud to call their new son, and any respectable lady would dream of marrying. You got sick of being congratulated for having to move to the opposite corner of the world for him. While they were celebrating, you were aware to be essentially loosing your family to live arround strangers for the future chance to share a throne you never wanted.

You hated it and you thought you hated him, untill you saw him for the first time.

Hector was the most handsome man you ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on, but he advanced towards you with the calm resignation of a man sentenced to death. He did a great job restricting himself to the formalities, but that was all. In fact, it could be said the meeting had subverted expectations. Charming him on that occasion was your task as the lady of the couple, but he managed to awake a bit of your interest without even trying. While Antilochus noticed how your complaining reduced after meeting your fiance, Paris was struggling to get a smile out of his brother by doing cassual jokes about your beauty.

Polite indiference was all you got from him, even in the day of your wedding. His kiss after sweeping off your veil felt like a handshake to seil the political deal. Logically, you weren't expecting him to hold any feelings for you, but stumbling with his coldness was frustrating. At least in a surface level, you were starting to like him, but you didn't want to humillate yourself trying to make him like you.

Nightfall brought the end of the first day of celebrations, and for the first time, you were meant to be all alone with him. Trojans had similar customs for their hymenaeus, only that the choir of girls following you with torches to light the way to the thalamus was more espectacular than what you would have pictured back in Greece.

It was a magnificent display, romantical sight that contrasted with what was about to happen in that bedchamber.

Lookwise, you were very proud of yourself once the maids finished to prepare you for him. You hair was perfect, your smooth skin impregnated with a delicious perfume, and the thin white nightgown you were wearing was the perfect balance between coverage and exposition of your body. Enough to guess what awaited underneath, but discrete enough to not present yourself naked in front of him.

The color simbolized the purity you were meant to give away for the prince's consumption in the consumation of the marriage. Many greeks would have claimed they wanted to switch places with him, it would have been a joke in the friend group of your brother if they would have seen your transformation and you chuckled to yourself thinking of that as you nervously awaited.

The arrival of your prince changed everything. Amazement of him was strong in your virginal perspective. His toned body was considerably more exposed than before, since he was then only wearing the skirt typically matching his armor, and the perfumed oil freshly applied was giving a subtle shine to his skin. You could have started to feel lucky despite your understandable nerves, if he wouldn't have appeared to be so unaffected by the sight of you in comparison.

A brief look and a smile from afar before proceeding to sit on his side of the bed was all he had for you while your eyes unwillingly feasted on his image. His feet were still touching the floor and he seemed absorbed in some contenplative thinking while staring at the opposite side of the room.

Desperate to break the awkwardness, you attempted to get his attention hoping to help him relax. As a start, you kneeled behind him to caress his neck an shoulders.

" This isn't working. " You commented in a friendly mock. " Normally, the woman is the doubtfull one and it's the man's work to talk her into it. "

Hector was perfectly able to feel the squeeze of your front against his back, how you played with him in a convincing performance of your duty as wife.

" We have to be married, but we don't have to pretend a passion for each other that is clearly not there. "

His warning didn't work to completely dissapoint you.

"I'm just trying to be nice." You excused yourself in a sweet tone. " If it works as consolation, I was the only option Pylos had to offer. I have seven brothers and two sisters: one is already married and the other one is twelve years old. Father convinced me to get here only so none of my brothers will ever have to fight you. "

That simple reference to your family life evoked something stronger than mercy. A memory of someone he loved.

Andromache was a princess and once a sister of seven brothers that had fallen in battle. The reminder that you were just trying to stop the same tragedy from falling upon yourself acted as small comfort for his crushed heart.

She would understand.

" It's not your fault, I accepted the sacrifice. " He vaguely explained. " … My love for one person could never trump the love I have for my people. "

In that simple sentence, he let you know there was someone else in his life before the arrangement and that was the cause of his distant demeanour.

You hugged him from behind with comforting gentleness.

" I was starting to wonder why the brave trojan warrior that almost all greeks fear to face seems so afraid of facing me. " You teased as reply. " Nobody would expect Hector of Troy to flee from the touch of his wife like he has never done for the strikes of the enemy. "

The provocation didn't cause the wanted effect, slnce he didn't mind to live up to his legend in the intimacy of the room.

" I think this is a space safe enough to leave my pride behind. "

He had a point, but he would have to listen yours.

" All I'm going to ask you is to accept you are stucked with me. It's not much, ladies all over the world pretend for husbands they don't like all the time. "

You gave up, collapsing on the matress to bitterly claim your side of the nuptial bed.

" … They fake ecstasy while the strangers on top of them lascerate their virgin insides with their careless thrusting. Women can hold their pain perfectly pretending it's pleasure. You, my friend? All you had to do was giving me a decent kiss for the public to cheer, and you couldn't even do that because you are just so heartbroken. Do you get the cruel irony here? "

Hector followed you, watching you closely as he meditated in your words.

" I have nothing to reproach, you were a flawless bride, but I broke a third fraction of my moral code today. This marriage confronted two of the three rules in it and I had to choose which one I could still follow: to defend my country, I had take a woman I don't love."

He approached a bit closer to kiss your forehead.

" I'll allways respect you, but ríght now I can't be the husband you expected. You have my word, I will do my best, but for a while I believe my company won't be much comforting. "

You turned arround so you could be the one avoiding him.

" I never said I wanted you, I just hoped we could resemble a marriage. "

That wasn't how things were supposed to be like. Despite you weren't a hopeless romantic, you never imagined you would end up with a man who didn't feel the most elemental attraction towards you. Lack of desire in an arranged marriage wasn't supposed to flow in that direction, but the other way arround.

A wife shouldn't be seeking the attention of an indifferent husband instead of commiting to his desires. That wasn't what you were prepared for, since you always guessed it would be expected of you to be sexually required even in a loveless marriage. Rabidly denying your discovered attraction for the heartbroken prince was all you could do to protect your pride after realizing you were useless to him on the most bassic function of your union.

During the week of partying you foud out you weren't the only greek struggling to capture the trojan sensibilities. Antilochus fancied the cousin of your husband, but the girl rejected his every attempt of flirting with frustrating disdain. Keeping the peace mission in mind, your marriage was the best possible outcome. If Briseis would have been to Pylos as your new sister in law instead, her attitude would have caused a political disaster.

The royalty of Troy habitated one strange reality in which their princess freely rejected men with amusing harshness while the youngest prince seduced the most beautifull women arround free of commitement during the celebrations for the heir prince being forced to marry you. It was as if Hector had to assume all the sacrifices so everyone else could live how they wanted. He was the warrior prince so Paris won't have to fight, he had lost the chance to marry the woman he wanted to get trapped with you in an arranged marriage so Briseis could remain a virgin as she had choosen.

The man was a sacrificial bull whose fate was never being questioned, as if he existed to save everyone else.

As his wife, at least in title, you were going to take his side. When the first voices of concern from his relatives started to raise given the obvious fact that he wasn't happy on his marriage, you were not afraid of speaking up.

" I have been going to the temple of Aphrodite every night to pray before reaching my bedchamber. " Briseis was once commenting to him, with sweet naivety. " We need a miracle, but I don't loose the hope for you. "

She meant well and you knew it, but you didn't care. Hector límited himself to thank her and smile, but you couldn't let it pass.

" How about some gratitude instead of your condescending prayers? Are you aware this could have ended up the other way arround, ríght? Under the rules of my world, you should have married my brother. Hector is stucked with me so you won't have to marry one of those warriors you look with pity. "

He couldn't believe what he had witnessed, and he felt relieved it was late enough after dinner for his father to have already retired to his bedchamber.

" You have no reason to scold her for seeking to comfort me. "

Briseis raised up from her seat.

" It's alright, cousin. I understand she is under a lot of pressure. "

If you would have to hear one more pityfull comment, anger would have made you burn on the spot.

" You wouldn't survive in Greece, girl! The life of wives there would slap you in the face and get you off your high horse. " You cutted her off. " Maybe your cousin knows it, and that's why I'm here. "

Paris almost choked in his struggle between drinking wine and stiffling chuckles, what made him an easy target.

" What's so amusing? In greek standards, you aren't even suitable for marriage. No father would give his daughter to a coward archer that only shows off his weapon for hunting. " You inmediately called him out. " I think you know that and marriage terrifies you. Charming the girls is way easier than proving their fathers that you are a man, and if the woman you sleep with is already married you don't even need to worry because the position is occupated. "

Hector slowed you down before your brutal honesty could bring chaos.

" What do you think you are doing?

" Being your wife. " You simply explained. " I couldn't help noticing that your family is a mess and I want to help you fix it. You need a rest, and some acknowledgement of your daily sacrifices ... not like any of them notice. "

The preoccupation sounded sincere and that impressed him. After all, he showed no early emotional investment in you justifying such loyalty.

" We like the mess, but thank you for trying."

For the first time since your wedding took place, Hector gave you a genuine smile expressing real complicity.

If not the wife he loved, he discovered you were at least willing to be a support in his domestic life that was different from the kind his family could provide. You were behaving exactly like your role and rank demmanded, only reproaching your surroundings because you two were the only ones submitted to such thankless pressure.

When Antilochus returned to Pylos with the crew that brought you to asian shores, Hector took the day off to be with you. The last reminiscense of your old home had left on that ship, so he conforted you by actively helping you to slowly build a new one. It was agreed that once you would be established, you would accompany him and his brother on a diplomatical tour bringing you back to Greece, but for that you had to be well adjusted to the new city and your husband.

Under that pretext he convinced himself for seeking to take you out in order to get to know you more. Excuses would pile up whenever he would decide to break the routine and show you some new wonder of his country you could experience together. The wound of his unfullfilled love story from the past remained fresh for a while, so he couldn't admit to himself that there was some interest for you already growing.

However, that didn't stop his father from trying to cassually interfere whenever he could against your mutual resistance.

Priam often approached you by himself to give you history lessons, advice, and all sort of support helping your cultural adaptation. He wanted you to autentically feel as his new daughter and, for the most, he was succeeding.

After one particularly stressfull morning Hector was returning to the section of the palace complex that belonged to both of you since the wedding and found you attending a visit of his father. The servants rushed to welcome him, but he commanded you shouldn't be disturbed.

The King of Troy was asking you news about the heroes emerging in Greece and you were storytelling for him.

" That is a complete misconception. " You were cheerfully correcting him. " Achilles isn't our strongest warrior, that's Ajax of Salamis. He is like a mountain made a man. So strong that a swing of his battle hammer can easily pierce shields."

Priam's curiosity got stronger after the correction.

" Rumours have come to my shores saying the Pelide is the greatest threat Greece has for my kingdom … What is then the cause of such notoriety? "

" He is the fastest: an hurricane bringing devastation wherever he is unleashed. " You completed the tale. " You will never see the lethal blow of Achilles coming before it's too late. King Agamemnon has conquered the majority of Greece by the edge of his sword, but they don't get along. The man holds loyalty to no country. "

The last part didn't surprise the king as much as it should.

" I guess greek heroes just can't compare to my son. "

His comment of pridefull parent purposedly encouraged you to ramble about the virtues of your spouse.

" At risk of ignoring some evidence, I think i will agree. Hector is the best warrior Troy has ever seen, but also a wise, noble, … magnificent man. Of such kind heart, and beautifull as an artwork of Apollo. "

You didn't realized of your mistake after delivering the last part of the sentence and covered your embarassement with laughter.

" … I'm so sorry! That was totally innapropiate!! "

Priam was smiling, easing you with his complicity as if you had given him exactly what he wanted to know.

" I can't blame you for rejoicing of your husband, that's how things should be. "

At that precise moment, Hector revealed himself to make you aware of his arrival.

" Most people would say Paris is the pretty one. "

Your shame was such that you would have wanted earth to swallow you.

" I was merely pointing out you perfectly fit the idea of masculine beauty preferred in Greece. "

" Are greek wives not allowed to like their husbands? " Priam teased you and glanced at his son with amusement. " I haven't visited the country in decades, but I was never aware of that. "

You tried to joke your way out of the situation.

" We are forbbiden from liking them in advance. "

Hector gave a few steps closer in your direction before replying.

" I'm not blind: I can perfectly see i'm married to a beautifull woman. "

Despite he had probably thought about that before, it was the first time he was saying it out loud.

The trip to Greece was a crucial point, not only for the mission started by your marriage, but but for your relationship on itself. It was meant to be structured in two phases. First, you were going to Sparta, where Menelaus would receive you and give you news of Nestor and Agamemnon. If the war against Thesaly was over and the rulers had returned to their kingdoms, you would continue travelling on land to visit Pylos. There, Hector would meet the rest of your family and your father would later accompany you to Mycenae for the hardest part of the tour. After Agamemnon would have accepted the terms of the concerted peace, you would return to Sparta and finish to settle the deal back where you started.

Frightening news for Troy was getting to hear Menelaus saying his brother had conquered the last corner of their country. Suddenly, Hector felt that the inconvenience of being married to a greek that was once a stranger seemed very small in the big scheme of things.

Only once he had the oportunity to dive into greek politics in person, the eldest trojan prince had fully realized what meant to be a son in law of Nestor. The eldest rulling king In the country was highly respected by everyone, and specially the Atreides. He was probably the onlyone whose opinion was completely trusted by Agamemnon, besides from his own brother, and that anecdotic detail was shared by the spartan king himself.

Relaxed on the political front, Hector found time to notice other things.

As intended welcome, Menelaus offered a great celebration that was an autentic show off his fortune. You were drinking, eating and dancing like you didn't properly do during your own wedding party. The promise you made when on the sea of keeping an eye on Paris so Hector could do the deals got sidelined by the mutual discovering going on between you and your husband. Too absorbed in each other to care, being an actual couple instead of an institutional facade.

For a brief instant that disrupted the cheer, he glanced at Helen quietly observing from her seat how everyone else had fun while her husband fooled arround careless of her. Then, Hector looked at you and realized how far you had made it together.

The woman he had in front wasn't the same he awkwardly danced with to keep the appearances on that farse of a wedding celebration. Lonely observant like the spartan queen, only daring to engage in the fun if dragged into it by her brother because she clearly felt she didn't belong there.

You have trully become his wife, his princess.

The realization came to him in the most unexpected moment, on a loud place very innapropiate to talk about feelings.

" Was that what you had in mind when you told me you wanted us to resemble a marriage?" He teased you in whispers, subtly pointing at the royal couple while purposedly leading you into taking a prudential distance from the dancing people. " I see them, and i'm so glad we didn't turn out like them."

It made you chuckle.

" It wasn't them specifically, more of an idea of how a loveless marriage works. "

Hector smirked and pulled you closer, attempting of letting you give in for a hug.

" I understand now what went wrong from the beggining. " He teased the reveal of his conclussion. " … You desired me that night, but noticed I didn't feel the same and that confused you. The uses of your home prepared you to give yourself to a man you wouldn't want, never to not be wanted. Or even less, to find yourself wanting the man rejecting you. It wasn't your fault, as it wasn't mine, but you closed yourself for self preservation after the embarassement you must have felt … And you shouldn't had to feel that way. "

You pressed one hand on his chest as a measure of distance.

" Is this some sick test, Hector?" You called him out, distrustfull. " I'm not the wife you wanted, so I should never want you. I can't do it, that's not how the world works. "

Hector grabbed your wrist softly, gesturally inciting you to accept him.

" Then our world is upside down, but that's fine." He calmed you. " I thought I was respecting the honor of my maiden bride, only to find out she was the one waiting for me. "

You groaned with exasperation, unsure of how to make him understand the real problem going way deeper than that failed episode.

" … You have no idea of how frustrating it is to love you knowing I will never match your lost love. "

The exposure of your hushed suffering made him feel a bit heartbroken for you, but you were also confessing your love for him and that was enough encouragement.

" We needed time … I was not ready to love you, but I am now. "

His metaphorical use of the phrase merged all the possible forms of love he was feeling into one. To make your amazement complete, he grabbed both of your cheeks so you won't be able to escape the passionate public kiss he once couldn't give you on the wedding.

No choir of singing girls guided your way to the bedchamber that time, but you were following Hector and your hearts were beating as one.