#STILL took initiative when he saw someone in trouble and tried to help in his own way
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couldbebetterforsure · 1 year ago
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So I was watching the next episode of the animated adaptation of Crossroads on YouTube and noticed something. Now I have no English subtitles to work with for the anime, so I'm only going off of a mix of some Japanese I understand/knowledge of the game story/whatever I can work out by watching. But from what I can see, it seems the anime changed the reason Chiaki was singing on that stage? Again, going off of whatever I could figure out for the anime, it looks like the anime makes it seem like the primary reason Chiaki was singing on that stage was because he was bullied into it by his upperclassmen in Ryuseitai, since it has been stated that Chiaki was bullied by the former Ryuseitai members in the past. Which, once again....
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Meet me in the fucking pit, ex-Ryuseitai members 😠😠😠😠😠
However, reading the version of Crossroads in the original Enstars game, while Chiaki is still bullied by his upperclassmen, the primary reason he sings on stage there is specifically because he's trying to save Eichi.
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It makes me curious why the anime (seemingly) changed the motivation behind Chiaki singing on the stage. For the sake of simplifying matters for the adaptation? Possibly wanting to make changes to the story (since I've heard apparently there have been other retcons made for stories from the original game for the sake of newer stories written for the current game)? Maybe not wanting to take so much focus away from Undead or Akatsuki, since Crossroads is primarily their story, not Chiaki's?
I don't know, personally I prefer how the game handled it. Because this is the timid, bullied Chiaki who is still standing up and trying to protect someone even though he's scared, even though he has yet to take on that hero persona of his. I find that MUCH more engaging and interesting for him as a character!
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emily--prentiss · 17 days ago
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I LOVE YOU, ALWAYS FOREVER
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aaron hotchner x fem!reader
cw: mentions of pregnancy/childbirth, no use of Y/N, just pure fluff and love
a/n: I’ve caught the writing bug again! after so long not writing anything, I now can’t seem to stop. anyway, please enjoy this short fic of aaron just being absolutely smitten with his girls <3
word count: 1.2k
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You hadn’t thought it was possible to love him more.
From the moment he’d first asked you on a date - uncharacteristically timid, stumbling over his words, so unlike the fearless leader you’d come to idolise and respect since joining the team all those years ago - he’d treated you as if you’d hung the stars in the sky yourself.
He wasn’t overly affectionate in public, but you didn’t mind. You were well aware that he had an image to uphold. When you were alone, however, he showered you with affection. It was overwhelming at first, and you’d felt undeserving, not used to being in a relationship with someone that adored you, that loved you completely, that respected you all the more. But as time wore on, you’d become accustomed to these little romantic gestures that, even now, had your cheeks tinting a light pink, butterflies forming in your stomach, and a smile that you tried (and failed) to suppress tugging at your lips.
On the nights where you were apart, back when you were still living in your own apartment, he formed small, affectionate habits. He’d send a text to check you were home safe, following a date or a long day at the office. He’d have flowers delivered regularly, bright bouquets waiting on your doorstep when you returned home from a gruelling case, always accompanied by the sweetest, handwritten note (you had a shoebox full of them tucked away in your closet, a physical reminder of his love for you). He’d call you as you settled into bed, his voice gentle over the phone as he was wished you sweet dreams, told you how much he missed you, how he couldn’t wait to see you again.
When you moved in with him, just a few short months before he proposed, his gestures changed in tandem with your relationship. If he had to be at the office early, you’d wake to a note left atop his pillow, hastily written messages of love and adoration ensuring a beautiful start to your day. After a particularly difficult case, he’d usher you into the bathroom the moment you got home. He’d run you a bath, help you ease into the water, and disappear into the kitchen to cook you one of your favourite meals while you allowed the hot water and bubbles to melt away your troubles.
On your wedding day, he’d allowed himself to be less reserved. The moment he saw you, as you began your descent down the aisle, he was consumed by emotions, his beautiful eyes shining with unshed tears. He’d leaned into you as you took his hand, matching smiles on your faces, and whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you just how beautiful he thought you’d looked. He seemed unable to resist touching you after that initial contact. At any given moment, his hand was pressed to the small of your back, or his fingers were intertwined with your own, or his lips were pressing tender kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. Though he kept reminding you of his love for you throughout the day, whispering it into your skin, you could feel it through those small gestures, too.
He held you close to him as you danced together for the first time as man and wife. His eyes were on you the entire time as the pair of you moved effortlessly around the dance floor, surrounded by your loved ones, his ever present smile unwavering. During his speech, you’d cried tears of happiness, so overwhelmed by the life he’d given you, the joy he made you feel every day.
He loved you wholly, and you didn’t think you could love him more.
That was, until the first time you saw him hold your daughter.
It had been gruelling, the birth. Long. Tiring. Aaron had been by your side constantly. He held your hand, wiped the sweat from your brow, and told you over and over how proud he was of you.
And the smile that had consumed him, all teeth and dimples as your daughter had come kicking and screaming into the world, left you breathless.
He was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on her. Had waited for your subtle nod of assent before he left your side to be with her while the nurses weighed her and cleaned her up, unable to take his eyes off of her for a moment. When she was placed in your arms for the first time, he’d wrapped his arms around the two of you as a choked noise left you, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. And although you weren’t alone in the room, midwife and nurses alike still floating around, it felt as though the world had shrunk to just the three of you - husband, wife, child.
He whispered against your cheek how perfect, how beautiful she was. Just like her mother. You’d scoffed then, partly because you’d always been unable to accept a compliment, mostly because you were certain you were anything but beautiful in that moment. Your hair most definitely resembled a birds nest, your lips were chapped and dry, and the sweat had dried uncomfortable onto your skin. But as you’d looked up at him and found his gaze settled on you for the briefest of moments before he’d leant forward to press a gentle, loving kiss to your lips, you thought perhaps he’d truly meant it.
Aaron didn’t hold the baby - Ivy, you’d settled on fairly quickly - until the three of you were finally alone. Though he’d refused to stray far, he knew how important those initial moments of bonding were between you and your tiny speck of a baby, so had refrained for as long as possible. But after a while, you’d looked over at where he stood towered over your bed, eyes roving over the baby as if trying to memorise every tiny detail of her little body. When you’d finally caught his eye, you’d tilted your head in a silent invitation that he join the two of you on the bed, a small laugh bubbling out of you at how quickly he shuffled in beside you. The baby was transferred into his awaiting arms, and as you curled yourself into his side as best as you could, you felt your breath catch in your throat at the sight of them.
Ivy, who was already a little small for her age, appeared even more so as she nestled into her father’s chest. The palm of one of his hands encompassed her back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against her through the blanket she was wrapped up in. The baby had grizzled as she’d been moved from her mother’s arms to her father’s. But as Aaron whispered into her ear how much he already loved her - something he’d done to you countless times over the years - she settled, as if she knew she was safe. Protected by the first man to ever love her.
And as the three of you rested in comfortable silence, you felt it again.
That love for him, a love that already felt all encompassing, growing even more.
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ewanmitchellconnoisseur · 9 months ago
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"𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆" 𝑬𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
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A/N: This is part two of the Anti-Love Ettore one-shot.
Summary: Ettore mistakes a suggestion of yours as a sign that you're distancing yourself. It only gets worse when he spots you with some guy he's never seen before.
TW: Smut, Oral Sex (f receiving), fingering, tiddy sucking, lactation kink (with no lactation) p in v, creampie, bondage, vibrator play, violence
Word Count: 3k (I think this is the longest fic I've ever done lol)
← Previous Part • Next Chapter →
I can't remember who made the X Banner. If you know please tell me.
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Your head was lying on his chest as you lazily drew shapes on his forearm over his tattoo. His hands gently rubbed your lower back as you both just lay there not needing to say any words. Just enjoying the moment.
Ettore had become fond of these moments. How calm they were. It was a big difference to how chaotic his life had always been. With you, there was only peace.
"Ettore?" As your voice reaches his ears he blinks back to reality and looks down at you. "Did you hear what I said?" He shakes his head while still rubbing your lower back.
"You should try BDSM. I think it would suit you. It would also keep you out of trouble." Ettore had heard of BDSM before but the costs alone to build a playroom was more than he had.
But that wasn't what was running through his mind right now. Why were you telling him this? He has no use for some random submissive girl when he has you. Were you getting tired of him? Did you find someone else?
You babbled on for a while about how you could help him start. Ettore didn't say a word the entire time. His brain bounced between different theories as to why you were all of a sudden interested in finding him a new fuck buddy.
Only when you moved to sit on top of him, straddling him, did he snap out of his thoughts. He looked up at you and held on to your waist.
"You ok?" He nodded. You knew he was a man of few words and expressed how he felt in other ways. His hips bucked upwards as he felt the heat radiating from your body just above his cock. It slowly hardened as Ettore thought of fucking any ideas you had of leaving him out of you.
Before he could initiate anything you kissed his cheek and got off of him saying you had to go.
To you, he was just being his normal self. You never would have imagined the turmoil going on in his head, the plans that were brewing. If only he had been honest from then about his feelings.
It could have saved you both some pain.
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A day had gone by since you introduced the BDSM idea to Ettore. You had gone off to do God knows what. He assumed you were stealing stuff as you typically did in your spare time. He had calmed down slightly but his brain was still racked with thoughts of why you had brought it all up in the first place.
He managed to tell himself there was no cause for worry. That was until he tried to call you to hook up and you didn't answer. It only got worse when he texted you telling you to come over and you replied with "Can't. Im busy.".
Busy? Busy doing what? With who?
He paced around his apartment. Wondering if he should call you again. He chewed on his nails till they were too short to chew anymore. No matter how many deep breaths he took he couldn't calm himself. He had to know what you were doing.
In a matter of minutes Ettore was dressed and at the mall in a grey sweat suit with a black jacket. He had his hood up as he stalked around the local mall looking for you. He was there for about 30 minutes before he spotted you quickly walking out of a store.
A smile rose on his face when he saw you pull something out of your pocket with a smile.
See Ettore? She's just doing her typical shit.
The smile only dropped when he watched you turn around and wait for a boy to run out of the store after you. He was being chased by a security guard. You took his hand and began running as you both were in a fit of giggles.
The sight made his blood boil. He felt hot in his own skin and just wanted to crawl out. The guard gave up on chasing you both and returned to the store. Ettore began walking in the direction you both went. He needed answers. Who was this guy? Why were you holding his hand? Is he who you decided to spend your time with instead of being fucked by him?
He picked up the pace until he caught sight of the two of you heading towards one of the exits. it led towards the loading dock and was pretty much an abandoned side of the mall that barely anyone shopped in. He did his best to stay out of sight but with every step he just wanted to finally reach the two of you.
And when he finally does it changes your relationship forever. You barely have time to react as the man you are next to gets grabbed backwards by his hoodie and face-slammed into a brick wall. You scream as you see Ettore get on top of him and punch him repeatedly.
The man your with weakly tries to protect his head as Ettore continues to hit him in the head.
"Ettore stop! Get off of him!" You try to pull him off but that only redirects his anger. He stands up and shoves you. You stumble back and fall to the ground your hands scraping against the tough concrete. Ettore, driven by anger, pulls back his fist as if he is about to punch you.
And thats when he sees it.
The terror in your eyes. The tears that fall down your cheek.
The same look he saw in the eyes of the women he killed.
Seeing that look in your eyes. Your eyes... hurt him. Without knowing it you were the air he breathed. To know he had made you fear him, terrified him. He lowered his arm and ran off saying nothing else.
He doesn't remember much about what happened that night. He wakes up to his apartment trashed and can only assume his emotions got the better of him. He had sent you more messages than he could count and called you countless times. You ignored every call and message.
He didn't know where you lived considering you only ever hooked up at his place.
He had to get you to forgive him. He couldn't continue without you. He couldn't breathe without you.
He told himself that this wasn't love. That this was just fear of losing what you offered. Your wonderful pussy. The amazing sex. Thats all he's scared of losing, not you. He could care less about you.
It took him almost a week before he found out where you lived. He knew what bars you liked to hang out and started asking around. You were smart not to go out knowing he would be looking for you but eventually, you needed groceries. You stepped out to do some shopping wearing a more discreet outfit than you would usually wear.
Ettore watched from across the street as you pulled up your hood and walked towards the bus stop. He knew you would be gone a while and would give him time to do what he needed to.
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You returned from shopping and carried in your grocery bags struggling a bit as the plastics pinched your fingers.
It's only when you step inside your apartment and place them on the table do you feel how the tense air. Your apartment feels different than before. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen and slowly walked towards your bedroom.
As you pushed open the door everything looked the same. You relaxed and took a deep breath.
Im just on edge. I need to relax.
"Drop it." You immediately tense as you hear his voice. You do as he says and drop the knife to the ground. "Turn around." Your heart beats in your chest, you're not scared of him, you never are, but you're scared of the confrontation. You turn around and face him.
"Ettore." He simply stares at you. When you first lay your eyes on him you notice his appearance. He doesn't look...well. His skin was pale and had dark bags under his eyes.
"You've ignored all of my calls and all my messages." He slowly takes a step forward and you respond with a step back.
"What was I supposed to say-"
"Hello, good morning, how are you? Fuck baby I don't know just talk to me-" He takes another step closer and you raise your hand.
"You beat my friend for no reason. Then you pushed-" He closes the gap between the two of you and pulls you against him.
"I didn't mean to...I...Im sorry." Ettore was not one to say im sorry. "Im sorry that I hurt you." He leaned down and kissed up your next stopping at your ear. "But im not sorry for beating that fucker up. He was touching you." He resumed kissing you while backing you up against the wall.
"He was just a friend." You want to be mad at him for what he did. You want to yell at him for being so violent but you can't.
"You ditched fucking me to hang out with him. You kept talking about this BDSM shit. You were planning on leaving me for him. I won't let you. I can't let you."
It all falls into place in your mind. He thought you were abandoning him. The realization made you smile and effectively softened your resolve. He was just scared to lose you, and this was his fucked up way of saying it.
You push him back slightly so you can see his face. Your hand runs over his cheek and he nuzzles into your hand.
"I wasn't leaving. I just thought maybe you'd like it more if...if you weren't just fucking me all the time..."
Deep down you had started to worry that over time Ettore could eventually become bored of you and even deeper down you slowly developed feelings for him. You knew he would never want a real relationship, and even if he did it wouldn't resemble the ones you see in movies. The ones you yearned for as a girl.
"I don't want no one else but you." He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to say something but pauses every time. He leans down and kisses you cradling your face. It's softer than any kiss has ever given you. "And I don't want you to be anyone else's but mine."
You knew this was his way of saying it without saying it. He wants you to be his and he wants to be yours. Ettore watches as a smile creeps on your face and he knows you understood what he meant. He pulls you back into the kiss while walking you backwards into your room.
You end up falling on the bed and he crawls on top of you already pulling at your clothes. He undresses you while kissing every bit of newly exposed skin until you're fully naked in front of him.
He's still fully undressed and the idea makes you feel vulnerable. He has seen your body hundreds of times but you still press your legs together while your arms cover your tits.
He gently pushes a knee in between your legs opening them back up as his hands uncross your arms.
"You're beautiful." He rolls one of your nipples in his fingers while he suckles the other imagining again what it would feel like for milk to flow into his throat. The thought made him painfully hard.
He stands up for a moment and walks away before coming back. You sit up and watch as he undresses slowly before walking over to your dresser.
"I was doing some snooping earlier..." He looks over at you and smirks as his hands rest on the first drawer. You already know what it is he found and can't help but smile. He opens the drawer and pulls out your vibrator and a pair of handcuffs. He looks at you with one eyebrow raised. "Care to share why you have these."
You can't shake the smirk off of your face as he walks over.
"Move up." You do as he says and move up higher on the bed. Ettore returns above you and grabs your wrists positioning them above your head. He threads the handcuffs through one of the gaps of your headboard then locks each wrist. "You gonna be a good girl for me yeah?"
You nod as he kisses his way down in between your legs. He places a soft kiss on your clit before sucking on it gently. He looks up and watches as your mouth hangs open and your head is thrown back.
He moves on to fucking you with his tongue holding you tight as you try to squirm away. Ettore adds pushes in a finger and pumps it in and out of you at a relentless pace. His finger easily brushes that sweet spot and has your back arching off the bed.
You want to touch him and try to pull your hands but are only reminded that you're bound by the tightness of the cuffs.
He can feel you clenching around his finger and all he could do is smile against your pussy. As you cum Ettore praises you saying you did so well but he doesn't stop he asks you to cum again around his fingers and brings the vibrator to your clit as he adds another inside of you.
He doesn't stop fucking you with his fingers and the vibrator as he comes up and takes one of your nipples in his mouth while watching you. Your legs shake as you give him another orgasm, shivers running up your spine. He removes the vibrator and his fingers kiss your jaw.
"You did so good." He slides himself through your folds gathering your wetness on his tip. Instinctively you try to move away from being overstimulated but he holds you in one place. His eyebrows are knit together and his mouth hangs open as he finally pushes himself inside. "Relax for me, baby." Although it's only been a week since you've last fucked you're back to being tight from the lack of his cock keeping you stretched.
You both groan when he finally bottoms out. The hairs on the base of his cock brush against your clit only making you whimper more from the contact.
Ettore sits up and grabs onto your waist holding on as leverage so he can fuck you. He watches as a white ring forms around the base of his cock and how easily he slides into you now that you soaked. the only sounds heard are your whimpers and the wet smack of his hips against your ass.
"Fuck- please Ettore." He doesn't know what your begging for but stares at your face in pride as it's screwed with pleasure. He knows no one else could make you feel this way and it only inflates his ego more.
"Does it feel good baby?" He reaches back for the vibrator and brings it down onto your clit again. At this point, tears have formed in your eyes from how fucking good this all feels.
"It's always so good." You whimper arching your hips so he slides in deeper. He can feel your pussy spazzing around him. "Fuck fuck fuck." You draw in a short breath as another orgasm washes over you. You feel heavy and spent as Ettore removes the vibrator and comes up and kisses your neck and chest.
"One more. You can give me one more." He reaches over on your nightstand and grabs the key for the handcuffs. He unlocks the cuffs and turns you over so you're lying on top of him. "Please. Please ride me." Despite how tired your body feels from the three orgasms he has drawn out from you, you sit up and look down at him.
You lift your hips slightly and reach in between you two grabbing his cock. Ettore moans as your hands wrap around him while you line yourself up. His moan only gets louder as you sink down fully on his length.
He holds on to your tits as you bounce up and down his cock rolling both nipples in between his fingers. You do your best to set a pace you know will have him cumming in a minute but you're still so tired. Ettore notices and places both hands on your hips lifting you up and down and helping you to fuck yourself on his cock.
"Fuck!" He throws his head back as he feels the tip of his cock hit your cervix. "I love you so much." The words were out of his mouth before he could control them. And though you're not sure if he means them or if they hold the same meaning for you as they do him but it only fuels you more.
You meet his thrusts and feel him throbbing inside of you. His face is screwed in what looks more like pain than pleasure as he begs you to make him cum.
"I can't cum if you don't. Please." He circles your clit once more and tells you how much he needs it. How much he needs to feel you cumming around him, how that will tell him you love him too.
You finally do cum and fall against his chest as he keeps holding on to your hips fucking up into you, his balls slapping against your ass and the vulgar noises of your bodies connecting filling your ears before he pushes you down as far as he can forcing you there. You feel him cum deep inside you moaning loudly as 'thank you' flows repeatedly from his lips like a prayer.
He eases up slightly as he rolls over and pins you down not taking himself out of you. Your breathing evens out as he kisses you gently. A drastic contrast to how ruthlessly he just fucked you.
"I meant it. Every word." Your heart flutters at his confession. He kisses you deeply.
He knows he can't let you go. But he also knows you won't stay without that confession. Even if it was hard for him to say it he was glad he did.
You both lay there wrapped in each other's embraces. Scared but excited to see where this will take you.
Nothing could go wrong now...
....Right?
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A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this! I still have an ideal 2 additional chapters planned out. The next one is shorter but still good!
Gen Taglist: @valeskafics @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin
"Fuck Love" Taglist: @hi-eleonora @scarletbedlam @fan-goddess @qyburnsghost
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swanimagines · 9 months ago
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DIFFERENT WORLDS | KAZ BREKKER
Summary: Your parents are hosting a family dinner, and you decide to invite Kaz to come with you.
A note: This is most likely a one of a kind fic from me. I got a fluff Kaz request from someone and tried my best to challenge myself, and this came out. But to be honest, I don't like writing Kaz like this 😅 So for those readers who have been begging me to write fluffy Kaz content where he's slightly OOC, here you go, have a taste, it'll be your first and last.
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Kaz’s office was as dim as it always was. The oil lamp flickered on his desk as he wrote something in his paper, his dark eyes going over the document every so often. You couldn’t help but stare at him with a soft smile. Despite everything he had done to get into this position - get to be the most feared and most powerful in all of Ketterdam - you had loved him, through all the good and bad things you had gone through. He had grown so much, worked on his trauma with you and finally when he had a good day, you could rub his scalp to ease his headaches and he was able to hold your hand for a few minutes at a time. You didn’t push it of course, you took baby steps and would see where it goes. Almost all skin touching was initiated by Kaz, and that was working so far.
“You’re staring,” Kaz mumbled suddenly and you flinched awake from your thoughts, blinking for a few times before you grinned, looking at your book in your hands.
“Well, what can I do when I have such a handsome boyfriend?” you said, wrinkling your nose as Kaz lifted his gaze to you, cocking an eyebrow. He then smirked, leaning back on his chair, clearly waiting for you to spit it out. You felt your heart thumping a little faster at that. “Okay. Um, my parents are hosting a family dinner in a few days and um, I was wondering if you could come with me? I would like you to meet them.”
Kaz’s eyebrows shot up for a moment before his smirk slowly faded and he lowered his gaze back to the document in front of him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
You had anticipated his reaction, actually. It was already frowned upon, a child of a rich, respected and fair merchant hanging out with a future Dirtyhands since you were ten years old. Falling in love with him. Participating in heists. Behaving like a Barrel rat instead of trying to be a good child and give a good impression of someone who would be an heir of your father's business. But that was never you, who you were, who you wanted to be.
“You could have been so much more, child,” your aunt had told you a few years ago, clicking her tongue upon learning who the boy you had been running around with as a child had become. But the truth was, your parents had always been there for you, and you knew they’d give Kaz a chance. Your father had said that the Barrel kills those who are weak, so it’s only natural Kaz had to become something worse than the Barrel. And your mother saw how happy Kaz made you.
Of course, it may have been just respecting your decisions, they had never once said they’d want to meet the man who makes you so happy. Maybe they were truly scared for you, scared of Kaz. That wouldn’t be a wonder, you knew it, but… it had still been gnawing at you, them actually meeting him.
“Why not?” you asked, cocking your head. Kaz sighed, still writing.
“You know why. Your parents won’t approve of me, you’d just leave there with a bad mood.”
You huffed, standing up and walking over to him, settling on leaning against the desk next to him. “My parents know I’m my own person. They’ve seen how happy you make me.”
Kaz stopped writing and looked up to you, his expression softening slightly. “I don’t want to cause any trouble to you. Your family is important to you, and I’m–”
“My family too,” you finished for him, smiling softly. “Just… please, think about it?”
Kaz looked at you for a moment longer, before he sighed. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”
As those words left Kaz’s mouth, you broke into a wide grin, your hand coming up to weave through Kaz’s hair as a silent thank you.
Those few days had gone on quickly. Way too quick for Kaz’s liking, judging how nervous he seemed to be. It didn’t show that much, he was extremely skillful to hide it, but you knew him enough to recognise it - for example, the way his index finger tapped against his cane head as you stood at the front yard of your family manor.
“It will go fine,” you chuckled, nodding towards the front door. Kaz didn’t reply, scanning the building before he followed you to the door, and you knocked on the door, smiling at Kaz reassuringly.
Soon, steps were heard from the other side of the door, and the door opened, revealing your father on the other side with a big smile, and you immediately hugged him. After you pulled away from the hug, you gestured to Kaz.
“Dad, this is Kaz. I hope you won’t mind me bringing him with me?”
Your father’s smile faltered momentarily, but then it returned to its normal one. “No, not at all. Nice to finally meet you, Kaz. Please, come in.”
You and Kaz walked along the long hallway with your father leading you, Kaz’s cane clicks echoing through the house. The silence was slightly awkward, but you knew it’d just need some warming up.
You entered the living room, your mother sitting on the sofa with a book in hand. She looked up as you entered and smiled widely at the sight of you, standing up and coming to hug you.
“Hello darling,” she said, pulling away from the hug and for a moment holding your face in between her hands. After a moment, her eyes shifted to Kaz. “Is this gentleman Kaz?”
Kaz nodded and moved his cane in front of him. He was still wary, you noticed, so you laid another smile his way. It was quite funny, really. Kaz seemed like he wasn’t scared of anything, knowing he shouldn’t be scared of anything because most of Ketterdam’s residents feared him. But then he was nervous in the presence of your parents. It wasn’t like he was terrified, but he clearly wasn’t sure if your parents would accept him as part of the family. Being somebody that dangerous definitely would be a scare for a lot of parents.
“Shall we have some tea?” your father interrupted you all staring at each other, and you got to sit at the dinner table next to Kaz, across from your parents.
“So, Kaz,” your father started as your butler started to pour tea to everyone. “You have quite a reputation.”
Kaz nodded after a moment. “I suppose so.”
Your mother shifted slightly. “We’ve heard some… rumours about you. People talk, apparently you’ve done everything in your power to survive in the Barrel. But our child has spoken highly of you, and that means a lot to us.”
That clearly put Kaz at ease slightly more, his shoulders losing their tension slightly as he took a look at you. “I’m glad to hear that.”
The rest of the dinner passed without any major hiccups. Your parents eased out with Kaz, and they even laughed at some of Kaz’s jokes. They asked more about his work, and Kaz replied to them as politely and vaguely as possible - even though he knew they probably guessed what Kaz meant when he said that he had to “interrogate” rivaling gang members sometimes. You chimed it from time to time, telling them how fun evenings you had had with Kaz and the rest of the Crows, how it feels like a little family.
After dinner, you moved back to the living room and your father poured some wine for himself and your mother. You sat in silence once more, before your father cleared his throat.
“I have to say, Kaz, that I was a little apprehensive of meeting you,” he said, swirling his wine glass in his hand. “I knew Barrel forces monsters out of the sweetest children who have to survive alone, and I wasn’t sure if you’d actually have a good effect on my child or if they are just good at pretending everything is fine. But… I now see you truly care for them, and they care for you. That’s what matters to us.” 
Your mother smiled, nudging your father. “I think my husband is trying to welcome you into the family.”
A few hours had gone by from that, and now you and Kaz were on your way back to the Slat, with you having a big grin on your face.
“That went even better than I expected,” you said, looking at Kaz. He gave you a half-smile.
“Your parents are… more open-minded than I thought.”
“They just want me to be happy. And I am,” you chuckled. “I knew they’d approve of you after they’d see that I’m truly happy with you, but I did expect a little more hesitation from Dad.”
Kaz’s half-smile widened into a regular, small one, as his hand lightly slid to intertwine with yours, making you glance down and then beam at him. He held your hand for a few moments before letting go, and you knew this was one of those rare moments when he was the happiest you had seen him. You then continued your way to the Slat, and you both knew that your relationship had taken its next step forward, yet another wall had been broken.
---
Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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vantediary · 9 months ago
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can’t control it - masterlist
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𖥸 pairing: non!idol Seonghwa —> non!idol Mingi x f!reader
𖥸 warnings: playboys! Mingi and Seonghwa, mentions of depression, abuse, anxiety (including panic attacks), use of alcohol (in some occasions even heavy amount),
Seonghwa: toxic relationship with reader, abuse of power, gaslighting, a literal angel at the beginning of the relationship then he becomes an asshole (yk, classic toxic behavior), smut (for which I will give detailed warning per each chapter).
Mingi: extremely lonely and depressed Mingi, he suffers from anxiety, love at first sight w reader, just a giant baby full of love to give but also craving to be loved just as much, but also (obviously) a sexy ass mf who knows he is.
Reader: suffers from panic disorder (a sub-disorder from the anxiety spectrum).
𖥸 Taglist: @yunhwalala @sofiagastaldo
ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ
From the moment you laid eyes on Park Seonghwa, you knew he was trouble. He had a reputation as a notorious playboy and you never imagined yourself being with someone like him.
You were hesitant at first, intimidated by the stereotype of a man who played the field and never settled down. But as you got to know him, you couldn't resist the strong attraction you felt towards him. His confidence and charming personality drew you in and despite your reservations about his past, you took a chance and started dating him.
In the beginning, he was the epitome of the perfect partner you had always envisioned. He showered you with love and respect, always put your happiness above his own, and made you feel like the most important person in the world.
He vowed to leave his womanizing ways behind and promised to be devoted to you forever. You were swept off your feet and felt like you had finally found the one you had been searching for all your life. You dreamed of a future filled with love, happiness, and endless possibilities, and you were convinced that you had found your happily ever after.
As the days went by, you began to observe a change in his behavior towards you. Initially, he was caring and considerate of your needs and desires, but gradually, you noticed a shift in his attitude. He became more self-centered and stopped paying attention to your feelings and emotions.
You started feeling neglected and lonely, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. You tried to convince yourself that everything was still the same, but deep down, you knew that something had changed.
Despite your efforts to ignore the situation, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dissatisfaction and unhappiness in your relationship, until…
**
Seonghwa and Mingi had been good friends for a long time, but there was always a sense of competition between them.
Seonghwa had been accustomed to sharing everything with his best friend, Mingi. However, when he met you, he saw an opportunity to have someone to call his own. He was captivated by your interest in him and him only and was determined to make you his, without sharing you with anyone else. Seonghwa was willing to go to great lengths to ensure that you didn't leave him, as he couldn't bear the thought of making his friend win.
That’s when, upon discovering your romantic interest towards Mingi, which was fully reciprocated by him, your partner's demeanor changed drastically. His true nature was revealed, showcasing his possessive, angry, and selfish tendencies.
It was as if a switch had been flipped, and his behavior towards you took on a much darker tone. The situation became increasingly uncomfortable as these negative behaviors continued to manifest themselves, causing a great deal of stress and anxiety for you and Mingi.
… Until, one fine day, Seonghwa approached you and Mingi with a deal. He promised to prove that he was the better man and would satisfy you in ways that Mingi never could. He was confident in his abilities and believed he could win you over.
Despite his claims, it became apparent that Seonghwa's selfish nature and his desire to be the one in control would always come before your happiness.
Will things really go his way? Or will he lose again to his friend Mingi for the last time?
ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ
Chapter 1 — coming soon…
ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ
Disclaimer 1: some topics in this story could be heavy for some, reader’s discretion is advised.
Disclaimer 2: there won’t be any pressure in writing this. I don’t want to force myself into a schedule, otherwise my poor adhd brain will feel obligated to write even if I don’t feel like it, but I’ll try to do my best anyway and work on it between breaks at work and when I’m at home.
Disclaimer 3: I am not a psychologist, so please be mindful that there will be mistakes while going through topics such as anxiety, depression and just the overall abuse that will disclose in this story.
ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ
all rights reserved © vantediary
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c-t-r-l14 · 8 months ago
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His Eyes
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————-🧡———-
Dontis x Reader
—————🧡————-
In the short time you’ve been living on this Earth, you have experienced a lot in your life. You’ve experienced the whirlwind of compassion, burning desire, and the warmth of falling in love. You’ve experienced the satisfaction—the complacency of living in a humble home with the person you loved more than life itself. You’ve experienced the joy—the overwhelming privilege of building a family together, and the immense fulfillment that made your heart swell with so much love when you heard your children laugh. You can still hear their high pitched, childish giggles every time you close your eyes. Their laughter hauntingly echos in your mind like a distant memory. You couldn’t remember their faces anymore, no matter how hard you tried. And, when you did—though in vain—you were often filled with disheartenment and sorrow, because all you saw was blank spaces. Blank spaces in the places where their beautiful glowing eyes, straight noses, and upturned lips should be. All you saw were faceless figures—
And that is because the war took them away.
You used to go through life without any worries, burdens, or troubles. You used to live life as if it were a dream; and it was, for a while. But, if there was one thing you’ve just realized after all these years—it was how finite and fleeting life truly is. How things can go from perfectly fine to disastrous in the matter of seconds. How you could go from living the life you’ve dreamed of ever since you were a little girl—having a husband and children of your own, to them being snatched away by men with guns and cannons. You carried that pain everywhere you went; and it was so heavy that sometimes it made you fall over— leaving you wishing for the impact of the fall to be hard enough to kill you every single time. But if anything, most days you just wanted to forget. The pain was too much to carry—and you had no one to share that load with.
In your quest of finding a vampire—who are said to wield immense, mystical power over people’s emotions, and beheld the ability to compel someone to forget anything they wished—you instead stumbled upon another creature. One who feeds off of desire.
He told you his name was Dontis.
And although you were initially disappointed that he wasn’t a vampire, you didn’t object to his company either. You didn’t know if it was just your intuition, or maybe if the grief and utter loneliness that consumed your entire being was making you delusional—but you could tell that he has also been through quite a lot, as well. You can see it in his eyes. They were always low-lidded; devoid of any glint of happiness, sadness, or life in them. They were dull and empty—and a sort of wariness emanated from his cold, vacant gaze. You couldn’t help but feel uneasy when his eyes would meet yours, because whenever they did—it never felt like he was looking at you; it felt like he was looking through you. As if—he were looking at someone—something—a thousand yards away. It didn’t matter how many times he tried to joke, or to laugh, or smile—the hollowness in his eyes were all you can see. And the only thing they beheld was insincerity. And maybe it wasn’t your place—maybe it was a bad idea, but a big part of you just wanted to know why.
What could’ve possibly unfolded in his life that made his stare so haunting?
“What is the matter?” Dontis asked, his voice snapping you out of your stupor.
You were so deep in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice that you were the one staring at Dontis. His eyes—his cold, dead eyes were locked on yours. Looking at you—through you—almost as if your entire being was transparent.
A shiver ran down your spine, and you quickly looked away.
“Nothing,” you replied as you grabbed a plate of food and placed it in front of him, “Eat up.”
Maybe if you didn’t let his vacant gaze unnerve you—maybe if you weren’t so fixated on the tiles of the floor—you might’ve been able to see the genuine surprise that reflected in the glint of his widened eyes.
—————🧡—————-
Masterlist
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arctrooper69 · 2 years ago
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Born for This
This is my gift for @starborncyare-deactivated202303 as a part of the @cloneficgiftexchange (which you should go and check out bc there are a TON of amazing fic authors).
Prompt: "Cyar'ika no." // "But it followed me back to camp!"
P.S. Sorry for posting so late tonight. I meant to post it earlier but life got in the way. Hope you like it though!
Holy crap I tagged the wrong person 😱😱😱 I'm so sorry!
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Warnings: None?
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"Where in the kriffing galaxy have you be -" Kix stuttered, cutting himself off as you walked through the door holding what looked like a large bundle of towels. Whatever you were carrying barely fit in your arms. "Uh...what is that?"
Before you could respond, the bundle began to wiggle and two long angular ears popped out of the top.
Kix's look of concern flipped to one of disbelief in a matter of nanoseconds.
Oh Force, not again.
Jesse and Hardcase had brought him an injured tooka the week before and it had wrecked havoc in his med bay when it got loose. Kix desperately hoped this wouldn't be a repeat of that disaster.
Though, despite his initial worries, he had to smile. You did look awfully cute sporting that wide grin of yours. He loved how the tip of your nose crinkled when you were truly happy.
Kix took a step forward, curiously peering at the creature cocooned in your arms.
Oh. Kriff.
He almost wished it was a feral tooka.
He slid his hand down his face and took a deep breath as he stepped back. "Cyar'ika," he said evenly, keeping his voice as calm as he could muster. "Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."
You looked down as the creature in question poked his head out from beneath the towel, large yellow eyes curiously gazing around the room.
"This little guy?" You cooed at the large cub. He barely fit in your arms.
"Little!?" Kix almost yelled, shooting you an incredulous look. "That thing is a gundark and could very easily tear you apart!"
As if on cue, the cub let out a purring growl before yawning, displaying rows of razor sharp teeth.
You frowned. "His name is Tiny and I don't think he likes what you just said about him."
Kix pinched the bridge of his nose, not quite believing the scene before him.
"You named it!?"
You nodded enthusiastically.
"And....what made you decide to bring it here?"
The gundark whined, knocking his head against your shoulder, blinking up at you.
"He was wandering around just outside the base. I think there's something wrong with his paw. He was limping and I thought you could help him!"
"It is a gundark, cyar'ika. Please get it out of my med bay before it eats someone."
Your expression fell. "But he's hurt! He doesn't have a mom anymore! We have to keep him!"
"No. Absolutely not. Go outside. Put it down immediately and go wash your hands."
"But he followed me back to camp! I think he thinks I'm his mom now. Please at least just help me patch him up!"
Kix sighed. Part of him wanted to yell at you, tell you that the cub was dangerous, that it could seriously hurt you. Kix had seen brothers be torn to pieces by these creatures. He could still hear their screams as they were eaten alive. He wanted that danger as far away from you as possible.
On the other hand, the amount of compassion you displayed towards this injured animal was the same kindness he'd seen you show daily as you helped nurse his wounded brothers back to health. You were born for this - he saw it everyday. Watching you be so gentle towards such a bloodthirsty creature stirred something inside of him. You were strong, he knew that, and as much as he tried to keep you out of trouble, danger just followed along behind, but you faced it head on with such a genuine, loving thoughtfulness. It was part of who you were.
Maybe it was time to act on those feelings that had been growing stronger day by day.
Kix chuckled softly as his hand grazed your shoulder. He smiled warmly, latching onto that growing sparkle of dedicated excitement in your eyes.
"Alright, cyar'ika. Let's see what we're working with."
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If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️
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emeraldtart · 5 months ago
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Danny Phantom AU - Grandpa Walker
Saw some posts saying Walker is Maddie's dad and the Fenton kids' maternal grandfather, so I'm taking a shot at it.
Most of the time when one become a ghost upon death, their obsession is what let's them become one.
However a ghost's obsession may often than not override their memories. Their forms are a reflection of those desires and how they look at the time of their death.
Walker was no such exception. He doesn't remember the exact date he died, but he's sure it's somewhere in mid 1900s.
He remembered that he was a warden, that he died in a riot. That's why he's a warden in the Ghost Zone and very strict.
And he also remembers that...
He loves his family very much.
But his obsession override his memories.
He doesn't remember their faces, their names are on the tip of his tongue. Walker is very very tempted to get a book of baby names just so he can find his girls' names and say them, just like how he and his wife used to do when they were expecting their little ones...
Oh, his wife...
He doesn't remember a single thing about her. He doesn't remember her name, her face, what she likes... He doesn't remember how and when and why he had fallen in love with her in the first place.
And Walker was scared, because the apathy he felt was like what he felt to strangers.
That's why, despite his want to open the book of baby names he had found floating around the Zone, he kept it shut inside the bottom drawer of his desk.
Walker was scared that he won't care for his girls.
~
It was a couple decades after his death, Walker had grown accustomed to his work as the warden of the prison. He was a bit lenient now, but was still strict in some ways.
After the whole Ghost Meteor, Walker sometimes found himself going out of the prison and into the Human World on his own. He doesn't know why, but he felt like he was searching for something... Someone important.
Walker doesn't know why his body brought him to the Fenton's house this late at night, but he doesn't stop. Whatever he's searching for is here. And he is nothing but persistent.
The moment he phased through the walls of the house, he was greeted by a shrill beeping followed by a robotic voice saying, "ECTOPLASM ABOVE HALFA LEVEL DETECTED: INITIATING DEFENSIVE PROTOCOLS,"
"What in the Sam Hill-"
Walker rolled out of the way as ghost nets were shot out from cannons that suddenly appears from the walls. He tried his best not to get caught, only for one net to catch him off guard from behind, leaving him a dangling mess in the ghost net.
The sounds of footsteps were heard moments later, and from the door came the Fenton boy.
"What's going-Walker!? What are you doing here?"
"Hey there Phantom. Can you help me down?"
Danny wordlessly helps the warden ghost down from the net. He straighten up his jacket and nodded at him, "Thank you,"
"No problem. But what are you doing here Walker? And in the middle of the night? Some ghosts got out of your prison?"
"Fortunately, no,"
"Then what?" Danny asked, narrowing his eyes at Walker.
"I'm not here to cause trouble, I'm just... I don't know,"
It was unusual for Walker to look this lost. Danny might haven't known Walker for long, but each encounter with the warden he knows him as a very persistent ghost who rarely doubts himself. Kinda reminds him of his mom, to be honest.
"Uh... You wanna talk about it?"
"... Yes. Thanks Phantom,"
"Just call me Danny,"
So here they are, sitting on the couch. It took some time for Walker to find his voice. He has never talk about his past to another person before, but when the last of his words that made up his worries escaped his mouth, he felt lighter, and not in the physical way.
"So, what you're saying is... You have two daughters but has forgotten everything about them, and you're scared that even if you remember you won't care about them?"
"Yes,"
"Excuse me for saying this, but I think that's stupid,"
Walker looks at the halfa in surprise, "What?"
"Listen. You're worried that you might not care for your daughters even if you remember them. Emphasis on worried," he then continues, "But get this: the fact that you're worried about that very thing proves that you love them,"
"That... Makes sense,"
"See?" Danny stood up from the couch, "Now go back to the Ghost Zone, I'm helping you with that baby names book and finding your daughters' names,"
Suddenly the light from the door turned on. Danny could make out the voice of his mother, probably just woken up from the alarm, "Danny, did you trip up the alarm again? I told you, clean up any ectoplasm before entering the house," she said before yawning.
Addie flicked open the light and saw Danny, still in his pajamas, with ghost nets all over the living room. There's not ectoplasm on her son, which is not unusual. Jack had set the ectoplasm level detector to be too sensitive, that even the smallest splotch on Danny's foot would trigger them.
She expected some green on her son's face, not... Is that...
Maddie rubbed her eyes and looks on the couch again. There was a man that she remembered in her younger days when she used to live in a house by the road in the middle of nowhere.
The man who went and drive for hours to the city and back to their home in the desert to find cake and celebrate her and her sister's birthday.
The man who pushed her and her sister on that swing which seat was made out of an old truck tire.
The man who bandaged up that bruise on her knee when she fell and made silly faces until she smiled.
The man who was called back to his job even after he was retired from it long ago.
The man who rode into that white car which drove on to the distance, who promised that he'd be back to see her graduate.
The man who couldn't make it back because he's no longer alive.
In Maddie's eyes she sees a man with skin darkened from harsh sunlight, with black hair, mustache and beard that has white hair. She doesn't see a ghost, all she sees was...
"Pa?"
"... Maddie?"
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akaademy · 1 year ago
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izumi sena x fem!reader. happy bday. 💙
synopsis: despite it being years since his graduation, izumi couldn’t stop thinking about you. even as he was getting ready for his marriage.
18+, angst, canon divergence, no use of y/n, arranged marriage, cheating (technically), reader is 25, izumi 27.
9,572 words.
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Izumi has long abandoned the idea of love.
It’s not like he doesn’t believe in it, he simply understands it’s not something he will ever get to experience.
As instilled from his parents, he knew relationships were never about love, but about who can provide a stable and reliable partnership. What could be more important than that?
Those childish crushes he got during his teenage years never bloomed into anything more, because as soon as his parents picked up a girl for him to date, he had already forgotten about them. There was someone, though, he couldn’t exactly get out of his mind even years after his graduation. You.
Izumi got to know you in his third year at Yumenosaki. When he first saw you, you were meekly clinging to Anzu like a leech. And it was always like that for every time he encountered the girl— you always hid behind her shadow, never daring to look into his eyes, or anyone’s— to be honest.
The first time he decided to bring you up, he did it right in front of you with such directness that made you feel like you were doing something wrong by being so closed off. He pointed a finger at you, raising his eyebrow as his voice laced with accusation.
”And who is that?”
The brunette producer just brushed him off with a nervous laugh, telling him to not worry about it. So for a while, Izumi ignored you, thinking you were just her friend and no one important. But it was hard to not stare at you as you hid behind her back like a shy child with their mother.
So of her own accord Anzu decided to tell him about you, simply because ‘he seemed curious’, which made him retort that no— he really wasn’t. But she still rambled, and that’s when she revealed to him you were from the produce course like her.
Izumi was a bit skeptical. You looked so shy, anxious and clumsy. He wondered how someone like you could even manage an idol group properly, assisting them, looking after their activities and taking care of their needs. He thought someone like you would just be a normal student in the regular course. You clearly weren’t made for working with people.
But his idea of you changed when one day he found you alone in the school’s quiet library, the only noise being your pencil scratching faintly on crisp paper— your head resting on your hand as you wrote.
He hesitated before approaching you— his steps echoing in the library. He got your attention by remarking sarcastically how this wasn’t the producer course’s library, and that you weren’t supposed to be there. Your eyes widened as you quickly took your gatherings while a little apology left your lips, but he cut you off you with a wave of his hand and an annoyed sigh, telling you that you won’t get in trouble but that you should just be a little more careful.
That encounter helped him to get to know you a little better, though. You told him you dreamt of being a writer, and that you and Anzu were inseparable best friends that used to go to the same school— she was your only friend back then. That was why you followed her to Yumenosaki with no idea of how to manage idols, going against your parents’ wishes of attending a more prestigious academy that would prepare you properly for med school.
You were inexperienced but attentive despite being an airhead. You clearly tried to prove yourself by working hard and not causing any problems to anyone, being docile and never talking unless someone else initiated the conversation. He also caught you tutoring a few of your underclasses, meaning you were intelligent and very reliable.
Izumi, despite his initial judgment, found himself silently captivated by your inner strength— he’d never admit that to you though. But forcing yourself out of your comfort zone just so you could stay by the side of the person you loved the most was pretty heartwarming. Still, in his typical straightforward style, he warned you to do a good job, because Yumenosaki didn’t allow layabouts.
Since then, you two got closer, and you were overjoyed when he finally considered you his friend, after your numerous pouty faces and incessant begging. Sure, he could be a little strict, but it didn’t take much for you to get used to his personality and to the way his expression would always betray his words. He thought someone as sensitive as you wouldn’t work well with someone as stoic and blunt as him— yet you did.
You’d attend his concerts, surprise him at fan meetings, or even cheer on him when you were allowed backstage, and when you were comfortable enough, you’d show him your writing. He would praise you with some half-assed compliments, but you always saw how his eyes sparkled in admiration when they glanced over your stories in contradiction to his words. When you worked late he’d accompany you to your bus stop, ignoring your protests, holding the small of your back to make you feel more at ease in the crowded streets.
Izumi didn’t know if he loved you yet at that time, all he knew was that you were his safe place— if he really had to put his feelings towards you into words. He felt pulled by you, because you were quiet, talented, understanding, kind and always putting up with his tsundere, unbearable attitude. Your presence was a breath of fresh air after all the crap he had to put up with everyday.
But sometimes he wished he wasn’t so harsh with you, because you never deserved it.
No matter how much he loved it, he felt scared by your affectionate and nurturing personality. He didn’t want to get too attached to you, because he knew he was going to lose you soon, so he couldn’t help but push you away.
And with that, he also never knew how to thank you properly— how to show you how much he appreciated you for tolerating him. He didn’t know where to find his courage. It didn’t matter how often his actions spoke louder than words, he just wanted… to get over his stubbornness and tell you with his own words, be finally honest for once, so that he could see your face light up with a beaming smile, something he rarely got to see because you were ashamed of it.
Not even on the day of his graduation could he be honest with you, because he knew that if he did he would be spilling all of his feelings for you. And he couldn’t risk it. Not even as you hugged him with tears pricking your eyes, devastated from his parting, could he tell you everything.
You were unattainable, just a childish crush, he thought. His destiny was set since he was born, there was already someone arranged for him and he couldn’t allow himself to fall in love with you, so in a way, he was grateful for his graduation. As long as he didn’t see you… he’d be fine. Or so he thought.
He graduated, leaving Yumenosaki to pursue what his parents wanted him to do most. You two barely kept contact as you were still in school, and one year later after your graduation, you left the big city to attend college without saying anything. Izumi couldn’t blame you for your lack of notice— he’d always dismiss you and act pretty much like an asshole unprovokedly just to selfishly protect his heart.
He’d always push you away or scold you every time you called him, saying how he doesn’t have time for you because he was just so busy. He always picked up how disappointed and sad you sounded when he estranged you, and his heart would always swell in agony.
He was certain you’d see through this tougher exterior too, like you always did. Even if he was pushing you away, there was a part of him that wished for you to not give up on him. So when he got the news you left, he was rendered staggered. He felt regret washing over him so strongly that he freezed in his place. Since then, he never heard from you ever again.
Anzu told him you were going to study to become a nurse, and Izumi grimaced— he immediately knew you didn’t leave of your own accord. It was your parents, forcing you on a path you weren’t supposed to walk on. Your dream was to become a writer, you told him that.
He couldn’t help but ponder about how your situation was so similar to his.
Even years later, at the age of twenty seven, as he was getting ready for his loveless marriage, he couldn’t get you out of his head. Everything went so fast, the arrangement, the change of scenery, the co-living with who was basically a stranger to him despite being engaged for five years— his fianceé. All of it made him feel out of touch with reality, as if he was just on autopilot, letting his body do everything so that he wouldn’t end up emotionally numb from it.
He was back to Tokyo that day, back to his parents’, celebrating his upcoming wedding by taking his other fellow Knights suit shopping— how fun, he thought sarcastically.
That’s when he spotted you as he spaced out, a behavior his companions pointed out worriedly. But his eyes and mind were fixed on you, setting something up in the backyard of your house, and his heart sank. He stopped in his tracks to look at you: your hair was a bit longer, but your face remained the same as the last time he saw you. Nine years. And he could still recognise every detail on your visage— the natural pout of your lips, your unique nose shape… you were still you, and he found it strangely comforting yet cruel, like a warm hug he didn’t deserve.
Cruel, seeing you in front of him like this, while he was getting ready for a marriage he didn’t agree on. Cruel, because you seemed to have moved on so perfectly compared to him. Did you resent him for how he acted in the past? Was he never important to you? Why aren’t you miserable like him?
And so, Izumi couldn’t find the courage to walk up to you. How could he even explain it to his members, anyway? He brought them here to get ready for his wedding, not to let them assist to some sappy high school reunion and eventually get teased about it.
That evening though, as he rested in his childhood bed, he couldn’t get you out of his head. Your now mature form was engraved into his mind, and he kept wondering what was your life like— if you still wrote, if you came back to Tokyo because you dropped out of college to finally follow your dreams, if you had a lover… If he already couldn’t stop thinking about you in these past years, imagine now that you were literally under his eyes, just a few blocks away.
And so, after exhaling a deep sigh and running his hand on his face exasperatedly, he grasped his keys and left quietly, climbing onto his motorbike to drive to what he assumed was your place, a variety of anxious thoughts but also anticipation swirling inside of him.
When he parked out of your house, a deep, shaky sigh left his lips before he walked up to your front door, pushing his finger on the doorbell. When you opened it, his heart swelled up. You were beautiful up close like this, your eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.
“…Sena-senpai?” a breathy whisper— you were utterly incredulous. He almost wanted to laugh at your astonishment.
“…Hi.” he pursed his lips, murmuring your name softly, as if to remember how it sounded. “It’s been a while, huh?”
You nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact. Seeing your old high school friend who treated you like a stranger out of nowhere now standing on your porch must have felt like a joke to you.
He could see from your reaction that you didn’t expect him to remember you—and you, despite seeing his face on the big screen pretty often, couldn’t believe how beautiful he was in real life, more beautiful than you could remember. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, and he noticed it since you weren’t really subtle. He smirked, but didn’t want to ruin the moment by teasing you about it.
“I…” he started. “I just happened to be in the city today, and I saw you in your backyard earlier, over the fence. I didn’t have any time to say hello, so here I am.” he said nonchalantly, trying to cover up the real reason why he’s ringing at your doorbell at ten in the evening.
You nodded again, feeling so overwhelmed by his sudden appearance that you didn’t know how to act. “I… I see. Would you like to come in, senpai?”
Izumi’s eyes lit up, and he agreed. “…Sure, why not.” You invited him inside, meaning you didn’t hate him, and he smiled to himself as he felt relieved.
As you let him in, he immediately looked around the house, not expecting you to live in such a big place, supposedly, alone.
“Heh, your home is pretty well kept, it suits you.” he commented, trying to ease the tension. You shook your head. “This is my parents’. They are on vacation for a week, so I’m house sitting.”
He hums in acknowledgment, murmuring a little ‘That’s nice of you.’ He sat on the couch next to you and as he did, he noticed a leathered journal and pens sprawled on the coffee table in front of him— his eyes widened.
“…You still write?” He felt so happy and proud at that moment. You nodded with a shy little smile. “Yeah.”
Izumi mirrored your smile, crossing his arms. “Good. That’s great.” A bit of time passed before you spoke again.
“Um… senpai.” you fiddled with your pen, your heart thumping. “I know It’s a bit out of nowhere but… I heard you’re getting married.”
His heart dropped. Shit. Perfect. Of course, how could you not know when he’s constantly surrounded by paparazzi and weird fans stalking his every move and posting about the littlest things of his life online? The marriage was supposed to become public anyway eventually, but what baffled him the most was how you decided to break the ice by immediately bringing that up, as if you were just itching ever since the rumors started to know all the details.
He swallowed nervously, refusing to look at you, opting to stare at the coffee table instead to count the creases of your notebook’s cover. Why was he nervous in the first place? Because he lied to you? Because you didn’t know it was an arranged marriage? Or because of the slight disappointment in your voice when you asked that? You didn’t seem happy, at all.
“Yes. I’m getting married in two weeks.” He cleared his throat. “That’s why I’m back in Tokyo. I have to take the other Knights suit shopping. For the wedding.”
You nodded. “And your girlfriend, fiancée… She didn’t come with you?”
Izumi shook his head. “Nah, that woman loves her alone time.” He spoke, finally looking at you. “She was kind of looking forward to me being gone for a whole weekend, actually.” He laughed, an unconcealable sadness present in it.
“Is she pretty?” you scooted a little closer to him, a firm tone now in your voice. Izumi tensed up, not expecting you to take it so seriously or ask such a random question.
“Yeah, I guess she is? There are other reasons to choose a partner besides how attractive you find them, you know?” He chuckled bemusedly— if only you knew.
Then, he continued monotonously. “She’s… a very independent person. She hardly needs me around at all, actually. Mostly just when we have some kind of event to go to. She’s great with people, my parents really like her.”
You lean back a little, looking at him as if you were offended. “Do you… love her?” you uttered under your breath, but Izumi caught it.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t falter, keeping up the act. Why did you sound as if you already knew something was wrong? “Of course I love her, she’s my fiancée!” He sighed.
You pouted, but quickly got back to your scrutinising expression. “You don’t sound like you love her.”
“Haah? Didn’t I literally just tell you a bunch of great stuff about her?” he sighed, exasperated. He almost regretted visiting you right now, it was becoming physically painful to talk about all of this, and your weird behavior and questions just made everything more difficult. He couldn’t help but think that you hid something as you inquired him about his fianceé. “What’s up with you?” he raised an eyebrow.
“…Senpai, you seem so different.” you murmured, looking down at your lap. Izumi paused to take a look at you— your tone of voice, your droopy eyes, your weird fiddling… he confirmed something was actually wrong with you, but he was getting more frustrated with the fact that you dared to say he changed based only on your impression of him to care about your weird behaviour now.
“Different? I am not different. I mean, nine years passed, I suppose I am not the same person I was in high school, yeah? Geez…” his voice got more annoyed, and he rested his head on the back of the couch, running a hand through his hair.
But now, he was also getting frustrated with himself, and at how he was currently speaking to you so condescendingly after already treating you like shit the last time he talked to you. He couldn’t really hide his resentment towards his stupid situation, so he ended up taking it out on you. So many emotions swirled inside of him and he couldn’t keep them at bay anymore, and while he looked at you— the person who always listened to him without any prejudice — his heart just kept begging to break free from the ice he built around it.
He wished he could just… cry, because he knew you’d be there to comfort him immediately. Scream he is so sorry for taking you for granted and that he wants to make it up to you and never leave you alone to hurt ever again.
He didn’t ask for this, to live as some kind of pawn for his parents. He just wanted to do what he loved, and be loved. Be free. That’s all.
He finally raised his head, checking up on you. Your head was still hanging down like a scolded child, your hair hiding your expression. Your hands balled up into shaky fists on your lap— he went too far. He pursed his lips, trying to come up quickly with something to distract you.
“But you… you didn’t change at all.” He said more softly, inching closer to your vulnerable form. Your head was also raised now as you felt him move, your breath hitching when you saw him so close to you.
“Quiet, shy, overly emotional, stubborn… but also intelligent, compassionate, helpful, hardworking and strong. That’s the princess I know.” he chuckled, reaching up to caress your cheek softly, your hair getting brushed behind your ear. He pulled away immediately, not giving you any chance to react, his voice getting more serious.
“…The wedding, my new house, my fianceé… you are right. None of that is really me.” he confessed, and your eyes widened at the sudden revelation. “I hate everything about that… well, I don’t particularly hate my fianceé but…” he laughed bitterly, trailing off.
Then, he took a deep breath, resuming his rant. “There’s no affection. No warmth. I can’t talk to her, or laugh with her, or anything like that. But that’s not what marriages are about, right? They’re more like… business partnerships.”
You bit your lip at this revelation, empathizing immediately with him.“That’s not true, senpai. Marriages are about being with the person who loves you for you for the rest of your life… it’s about, um… being with someone who will always support you, protect you, love you no matter what… and much more.”
He exhaled softly, wanting to laugh at your naivety. “That stuff is not real, you know? That’s just what they put in movies.”
You frowned. “Movies, okay. But you must have thought about it at least once… right? Even if it’s just fictional to you… you must have thought what it would be like if it were real.”
Izumi paused for a bit. Yeah, I must have imagined it sometimes, he thought to himself. He thought lots of times what it would feel like to be with someone who truly loves him, instead of having girls picked out for him that never tried to look behind his looks. And it felt unreal to him how you, his friend, treated him the way his girlfriends should have done.
“I mean… sure, I’ve thought about what something like that might be like, but the only person I’ve ever felt that comfortable around is…”
He trailed off again, and you urged him to continue with an eager nod. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head dismissively.
“…Nevermind. I should go, anyway. I have to take Leo-kun suit shopping tomorrow too because he couldn’t make up his goddamn mind in choosing one. Then my mom wants me to go with her to see her dress, and—“ suddenly, you took his hand in yours, making him pause.
Your gaze looked so serious and out of character on your innocent features— you glowed with a maturity that left him breathless. Your adolescent image he was supposedly in love with was still engraved in his mind, and even if the adult you was right in front of him and looked much more beautiful, he couldn’t replace it easily, which symbolised his long lasting longing.
“Senpai…” you squeezed his hand, your expression immediately changing to the warm, caring one he grew to love. Your eyes spoke so much to him, and he couldn’t help but get lost in them.
He pursed his lips which now felt so dry. “…You were the one I wanted to spend… like, literally all of my time with, you know that?” he murmured after a long while, squeezing your hand back. He felt so vulnerable right now, it wasn’t the first time he had been like this in front of you and yet, now, it felt so different. He couldn’t hold his words back anymore as this intimate atmosphere called for it.
“Then… why did you distance yourself from me?” you murmured back, the soft tone of your voices turning the whole situation in something more special. Izumi sighed.
“… because I had to,” he said bluntly. “My parents wanted to get me more involved in the idol scene, and also make me focus on other much more important things.”
You pressed him, not feeling satisfied from his response. “I understand. But I want you to tell me what you want, senpai.”
“What I want doesn’t matter,” he scoffs. “Don’t worry.”
“I worry. I want to know what you felt while your parents made you do all this stuff you had no say in.” she caressed your hand with her thumb, trying to soothe you.
Izumi frowned. “…Fine, I’ll tell you what I want, but I don’t see how this is productive.” he sighs. “I wanted to focus more on modeling. Pose for the camera every day, be praised, loved and acclaimed. As for my private life… I wanted one of those little houses on the outskirts. A couple of bedrooms, a nice backyard like yours. I wanted my kids to grow up there, not here in the big city. I wanted them to live peacefully… away from the media’s attention.”
His lip trembled, but he successfully held back his tears as he kept talking. “I wanted a spouse who loves me. A spouse who wants me around, who I can have fun with. I want… I want someone like…”
He trailed off once more, his voice falling into a soft whisper filled with hopelessness and longing for what he couldn’t have. That’s when he realised he was in love with you when only you could fit those in those blank spaces present in his ideal life. When getting married only sounded right if it were with you.
“…it doesn’t matter what I want. Not now. It’s too late.” he grumbled.
You looked at him with compassion, the same compassion you’d shown to him years ago when he revealed to you how lonely he felt all the time. While everyone seemed so angry at him, you treated him so kindly and not any different from the others. Your kindness, something he came to love yet didn’t understand at the same time. “…Late? Why?” you asked, tilting your head.
Izumi let go of your hand, feeling his resolve crumbling. For some reason, something in him snapped, and he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His voice got progressively louder as he protested. He never meant to sound so choleric— but he did.
“Because I am getting married in two weeks? Because I am only in Tokyo for the weekend? Because I committed myself to someone, because her parents paid a ton of money for this wedding and we have guests flying in from all over the place?!” he barked.
“It’s too fucking late. This is my life now!”
You flinched, body stiffening, not expecting him to get so upset and loud. You avoided eye contact, trying to hide your already watering eyes. You felt mortified, and now that you thought it over, you were really being an asshole, interrogating him like this and indirectly rubbing to his face how he’ll never have the life he wants.
Izumi immediately took notice of how you reacted to his shouting. He bit his lip, mentally slapping himself for hurting you. He was used to you always putting up with his bullshit, and in that moment he didn’t think about how you’d feel if he started raising his voice at you, as if all of this was your fault. Treating you just like the last time you two spoke to each other.
Your overly emotionality could be endearing, yet so annoying— but… he couldn’t stay mad at you for so long, especially not when you were crying.
He sighs. “… you know,” he glanced at the coffee table. “That late afternoon back in high school where I found you still writing in the library, ‘cause I knew you would be there, there was a moment where you asked me to give you my opinion on a bit of your story— I praised you for your phrasing, something you weren’t confident in since you struggled a lot with kanji, and when I looked back at you, you were smiling so widely— you were so happy. You showed me your happiest smile for the first time, and that’s when I saw it.”
He looked up back at you, his hand reaching to wipe a tear that managed to escape your eyes. “I saw that life with you, in that little house with our kids running around in the backyard, that same smile on your face as you stared at our kids being happy without a care in the world. And I… I wanted it so bad. I wanted you so bad that it scared me, so I pushed you away. Do you understand that?”
Your eyes widened and your heart ran frantically. You couldn’t seem to process his words properly as you looked at him with so much stupor. You were so sure he had no interest in you, so hearing him pour his feelings for you out of nowhere made you unable to react properly without looking like an idiot.
Izumi chuckled softly at your reaction. “I wasn’t supposed to want it, wasn’t supposed to want… you. But I did. Want you, that is.”
“And… I still do.” He whispered, his thumb brushing on your bottom lip, making your lips part, unable to hold back anymore.
You felt like an idiot when all you could mutter was another rhetorical question. But you were just so… incredulous. “Y-You do?”
He nodded while a smug smile painted his lips, his face getting closer to yours. “Yeah. Sitting here with you, on this couch, with your papers and journals sprawled on the table… It's like that evening all over again. You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”
And finally, you two met in the soft, intimate kiss that you both have been craving for years. You couldn’t help but gasp, closing your eyes as you tried to kiss back at the best of your abilities while your head spun like crazy.
Meanwhile, Izumi groaned immediately at the contact with your lips, cradling your face in his hands to tilt it and kiss you deeper. You were clearly inexperienced, it was obvious from the way your lips clumsily moved against his. It didn’t feel real how hard he was kissing you right now, trying to convey all his love into it.
Is this what kissing someone you loved felt like? Was it supposed to feel so overwhelming it made your chest hurt? Was it supposed to feel so right and liberating?
Izumi parted from your lips, pushing you flatly on the couch, refusing to not take advantage of this perfect moment. You yelped in surprise as he did, but he immediately latched his lips on yours again to stifle any sound leaving your mouth, swallowing every whimper or moan.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as he climbed on top of you, pulling him closer to you. As he felt you not pushing him away or resisting, he took it as a sign to go further. The kiss went from soft to desperate quickly, a sudden confidence washing over you both as you took in everything: his lips, his breath, his confession, his body over yours… it was real, he wanted this as much as you did, and if you weren’t so busy kissing him, you’d sob in happiness.
Izumi pulled away, leaving you both breathless. He panted, brushing your cheek with his thumb lovingly as he smiled at you fondly. He didn’t dare speak, and so didn’t you. The moment was just so perfect and precious it didn’t need any words.
His hand trailed down your neck, to your shoulder, caressing your smooth skin gently, wanting to delve deeper and have you properly, show you how much he loved you. Ironic, since he still couldn’t manage to utter those three words even in the most intimate moment he could have with you.
You took his hand as he spaced out, impatient, guiding it towards your bosom before placing it on your right breast. Izumi gasped at your bold movement. You were always so shy, meek, you never dared to make the first move, and yet here you were— eyes glazed over with desire as you guided his hand to one of your most sensitive places. Maybe you actually changed a bit, Izumi thought. Or maybe your levels of desperation were so high you stopped holding back.
He swallowed, squeezing your breast gently to experiment. In response you tilted your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut as you breathed out a soft whimper.
He kept squeezing it, gently, still testing the waters. He could feel from the lack of firmness that you weren’t wearing a bra, and his jaw hung at the realisation. Sure, you were home alone and it was bedtime— you could dress however you wanted. But this to him meant that your tits were literally just a layer away from his bare hands. He could even feel the slight poking of your hardening nipple as he groped you.
He shook his head, deciding to not waste any more time and get what he wanted. He was impatient and tired of holding back, and you were too, it was obvious from your deliberate touches and loud whines. He pulled up your shirt until it was tucked under your chin, exposing your tits to him. You yelped, suddenly feeling shy and vulnerable in contrast to your earlier desperation.
He stayed still to admire them for a bit— your pretty nipples were already hard and perked up, both from the cold air and arousal. He swallowed and blinked a few times before squeezing both of your breasts. You moaned a little louder than before, hiding your face in the pillow.
He called out your name, making you move your head towards him so you could properly pay attention to him. “It’s okay,” he murmured, grazing your right nipple with his thumb, earning him a little whimper. “You’re so beautiful.”
Your eyes were all glazed over with lust, love and anticipation. Izumi leaned down, kissing the valley of your breasts before trailing soft kisses towards your right breast again, until he reached your nipple, engulfing it with his warm mouth. You mewled, your hips buckling up as an automatic reaction.
“Ah— senpai…” you moaned, the feeling of his warm mouth sucking your nipple making you lose all thoughts. He groaned as he kept suckling on your breast while pinching the other, his only free hand now reaching down your stomach, his gentle touch tickling you, then to the hem of your trousers, tugging the band playfully.
He pulled away from your nipple, tugging your trousers again while looking into your eyes as if asking for permission. You nodded shyly and he didn’t waste any time in removing them.
He immediately moved his attention to your slightly damp panties. As he pinched your now moist bud, he started massaging your cunt through them, feeling how wetter the thin cloth got as he did. He chuckled to himself.
“God, you are so wet. So perfect. My perfect princess.” he uttered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your clothed cunt.
You squealed, your hips buckling up again. You clenched around nothing as he kept praising you and making you feel good even through your underwear, suddenly getting reminded of how wrong all this actually is as you two went further. Izumi was getting married soon, you two couldn’t be doing this, and yet he seemed to move so confidently, without any care. You knew Izumi was one to always act with much self conviction, but you still had your doubts.
But he truly didn’t care. Didn’t care about his fianceé, his parents, his new life…he didn’t care if he was technically cheating, all he cared about was you now, his highschool love, and now you felt stupid; there was no use worrying about the morality of all this when even him, always so righteous, didn’t.
You needed a release, you needed him so much. Even if you were to regret this after you’ve finished, you didn’t care. You wanted to live in the moment with him right now.
“Senpai, p-please.” as he licked the mound of your pussy through your panties, you pathetically voiced your pleases, gripping onto the pillow behind you as if holding onto the last ounce of self-respect you had in you. “Please…”
Izumi wanted to tease you, to make you beg even harder for it, because he couldn’t get enough of your high pitched whimpers and pleading voice all for him. He wanted to relish on the power he had over you for a little more but… he discarded that idea as he looked at your drenched panties, teary eyes and pouty lips. Maybe next time, he told himself. But he knew there wouldn’t be a next time, this should never happen ever again, or be happening in the first place, anyway.
He cooed you. “I know. I know, princess. But first, I want you to call me by my name. I’ll make you feel good if you do.”
You nodded slowly, too embarrassed to say it, but you complied as your desperation overpowered your shame. “I… Izumi. Izumi, please… make me cum.”
He felt his erection pushing against his pants at your lewd words and suggestive voice calling his name. He had to look away for a bit to compose himself before leaning down to kiss your forehead gently, whispering a soft “Good girl.”
He finally pulled your panties to the side, exposing your bare glistening pussy, feeling its heat. He shivered slightly at the sensation, his own desire mirrored in your body language. He took in the sight of your cunt before leaning down to give it an experimental lick.
You squealed in response, unintentionally closing your shaky legs, but Izumi quickly pinned them down, spreading them again. He kept licking you slowly, gently and carefully to make you feel good. You gasped, trying to not squirm too much as you wanted to focus on how good his licks felt against your lips.
Izumi smiled to himself at the sound of your louder whimpers and moans, spreading your lips, licking them and moving up to suck your swollen clit after your instructions, which made you sob in pleasure, feeling your desperate need to release reaching limits you didn’t know existed.
Izumi pulled away, one finger already probing at your entrance as he coated it with your slick. He looked up at you, asking for permission. “Can I?”
You nodded relentlessly. You knew you weren’t ready for it yet, but you wished he’d just plunge into you and extirpate the orgasm you are seeking so desperately out of you.
He pushed the finger in, slowly, and you sucked in your breath before exhaling. You felt him, knuckle deep into you. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird as he kept his finger still inside you, not moving. Then, he curled it up experimentally.
Your hips stuttered and you moaned loud, eyes widening, feeling him hitting a spot you didn’t know could be stimulated— it felt so good. It tickled you inside, making your lower tummy feel warm. You covered your mouth in embarrassment from your noises.
“How is it? Does it hurt?” he asked you softly, and you shook your head. He nodded, pumping his finger in and out of you a bit faster. You closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure. He noticed your hips rocking against his finger, and smiled.
He murmured. “Do you want one more finger?” you nodded immediately. “Yes… p, please.” you mewled and looked away shyly, not being able to handle his intense and loving gaze.
Izumi hummed, probing a second finger to your entrance. He used his other hand to spread your hole wider, making it easier for him to insert a second digit inside along with the help of your wetness. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the size of two fingers starting to hurt you a bit.
Izumi noticed this and immediately stopped, panicking a bit. “Are you okay?”
“Yes… um, keep going...” you murmured.
He nodded, pushing again a little gentler, feeling the resistance of your tight cunt melt under his touch as he stretched you wider. He scissored his fingers inside of you, pumping them faster as he felt you slowly accommodating to them.
You moaned, covering your mouth as you locked eyes with him. They teared up from the pleasure, your chest and stomach heaving and spasming with every jolt as his fingers hit your sweet spots. As he fingered you, he leaned back down to suck on your clit, and you almost screamed. You gripped his hair, pushing him further on your clit, sobbing.
“Izumi, feels so good, I— ah, it feels so good, I wanna cum…!” you hiccuped, tears streaming down your face from the intense sensations. Izumi groaned in your cunt in response, speeding up his movements, his fingers relentlessly squelching inside you as you finally reached your high with a high pitched, shaky cry.
The usual exploding sensation in your tummy seemed so much stronger now than when you masturbated. You arched your back as you hid your face in the pillow, the world around you slowly becoming a little clearer as you came down from your high, more tears spilling from the cacophony of different feelings that overwhelmed you post-orgasm.
Izumi panted, his body moving to hover over you. “…Princess, hey.” he patted your cheek gently, wiping your tears. “Are you okay?” he frowned as he asked you. He would never forgive himself for hurting you.
But you nodded with a soft, tired smile, leaning up to kiss his lips tenderly as to reassure him.
“…I… I love you, Izumi. Thank you.” you murmured, and his eyes widened.
…It should have been obvious at this point that you had feelings for him, yet, hearing them coming out of your lips with so much tenderness and gentleness made his heart swell, tears pooling in his eyes as he bit his lip to hold himself back.
But your hand reached out, caressing his smooth cheek with care. You smiled at him again, your eyes never leaving his. “It’s okay…” you murmured, reassuring him with also a gentle look of your eyes that yes, it’s okay if he cried. It’s okay cause you were there to remind him that you’d never judge him or laugh at him for being vulnerable, for showing basic human emotions. For letting go.
It was always like this, you were so emotionally intelligent and wise. Every time you made him read your stories or poetry, something you didn’t allow even to Anzu, he’d be in awe of how beautifully you were able to put your emotions into words.
Izumi finally sobbed, letting go, his tears splattering on your cheeks, but it didn’t bother you. You just kept wiping and caressing his cheeks, an understanding smile gracing your lips. Izumi laid his forehead on yours, choking out pathetically his words of love.
“I love you. I love you so much. You… You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Nothing makes me happy like you do. Nothing. How could I even let you go like that? I’m so sorry,” he hiccuped, kissing you deeply again, sucking the breath out of you.
Your heart palpitated at his desperate and regretful tone of voice— it made you shake with emotions too as your eyes spilled more tears again.
He pulled away, wiping your tears and then his, leaning back to take a look at your disheveled form. Your face was sweaty, the only pieces of clothing present on your body being the shirt he pulled up to expose your whole torso and your panties pulled to the side, dripping with your juices. You were so cute and hot, and now you looked even better because of him.
You yelped when he suddenly grabbed your thighs, yanking you and pulling you against him until your wet cunt pressed against his clothed erection, feeling it pulsating. He leaned down, sucking on your neck until it left marks, making you squeal.
“You are all mine, okay? Mine, damn it.” he hiccuped, sniffling as he clumsily unbuckled his jeans with shaky hands, grumbling something under his breath. He immediately pulled them down his mid thighs together with his underwear, revealing his cock to you. His eyes were puffy from crying so hard, yet there was also something else that made them so much different compared to moments ago.
He didn’t leave you any time to even look at his cock properly before he probed it at your entrance, coating his already moist tip with your slick and juices. You yelped, looking up at him and then at his cock that soon would be buried inside of your cunt. Your legs shuddered as you could feel his desperation when he didn’t waste any time pushing his tip inside of you.
“Tell me you are ready for me, fuck, please, princess,” he whined, a breathy moan leaving his lips as he pressed himself further inside your hole, now tighter as a consequence of the muscles contracting from your last orgasm. You moaned in surprise, his cockhead stretching you much wider than his fingers.
You should be using a condom— but you doubted you could stop Izumi now as his tip was already pushed fully inside you, you didn’t have any anyway and you doubted Izumi did too. It just surprised you as you witnessed this different side of him— where he stopped being so composed and dismissive about risks, caring only about you. He was getting so unbearably desperate it scared you, and you wondered how much it hurt him to hold back this whole time.
“Fuck,” he gritted his teeth, hissing under his breath as his whole cock sheathed inside your pussy, stretching you your warm insides fully which made him sigh in pleasure. You moaned, feeling a few other tears slipping down your cheeks. When you felt his cockhead rest against your cervix, you sobbed, the new sensation overwhelming you. You didn’t know if it was normal to feel like this.
“I know, I know you are sensitive, you just came, damn it, I…” he gasped, leaning down to hug you, beginning to thrust into you with slow, hard strokes. “My princess. So tight. I bet she was waiting for me to just take her little virginity, didn’t—“ a grunt, “didn’t she?”
You nodded relentlessly, burying your head in the crook of his neck, hugging him back. You wrapped your legs around him, pushing him deeper into your cunt. “Y-Yes! You, just for you, senpai… I love you!” you hiccuped between loud moans.
Izumi groaned, feeling himself grow bigger at your words. “You don’t know how much I wanted to fuck you exactly like this years ago— pull you inside the staff room with me before my lives every time you hugged me and pressed those annoying little tits of yours against me as a ‘good luck charm’,” he quoted your words from back then mockingly and sped up, kissing your now swollen lips harshly and massaging your tongue with his, trailing his lips down your chin and then on your neck again, sucking on it and leaving more marks. “You can be such a tease when you want to, huh?”
You squealed, returning the favor by kissing him again. You decided to not comment on what he said— you were too busy being vocal about how good he felt and focusing on his cock ramming into you to say anything. It’s not like he was completely wrong anyway— you wanted his attention back then, but you didn’t expect your clingy hugs to stir something like that in him.
He pulled away, the rhythmic sound of skin slapping on skin stuttering before going back to the initial pace.
“You are doing such a good job— don’t worry, I…” another low, rough grunt. “I love you.” he sobbed out, your warm cunt sucking him in so perfectly he couldn’t speak— as if you were made just for him. “I want you to rely on me, always.” You had him in the palm of your hand at this point, he was yours no matter what.
Your cunt tightened around his cock as he confessed his love to you again, making him moan and laugh playfully. Your face was a mess of tears and sweat— flushing with a feverish red. Yet Izumi couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked, all because of him. He felt himself getting closer to his release as he admired the lewd sight under him together with the warm, wet tightness of your cunt sucking his cock so well, which made him unable to hold it back anymore.
He sped up his movements again, chasing his orgasm. He moaned softly with every thrust, his hands leaving your hips to squeeze your tits. They didn’t last long on the supple flesh as they soon reached to intertwine his fingers with yours. He leaned down, kissing your ear softly before whispering with a soft moan, “I’m gonna cum, princess.”
You gasped, nodding. You hugged him close to you again, same with your legs wrapping around him to keep him inside you. “Cum inside me,” you begged. “Please. I wanna— I wanna give you the family you always dreamt of!”
Izumi bit his lip, eyes widening as he felt your legs locking around him to keep him inside you. Suddenly, he snapped back to reality, realizing the implications of your words. He wanted to still inside himself inside of you so, so bad, especially when you begged him so nicely. But he couldn’t allow it. It sounded like a dream, yet he knew it’d become an actual nightmare if he got you pregnant.
“No. You know we can’t.” he choked out, slipping out of you. This earned him a whine and a frustrated sob from you.
He started stroking himself with shaky movements. “I can’t cum inside you, princess,” he panted between strokes. “I’m gonna cum… here. It’s okay. Take it all for me, that’s it. I love you so much.” He shortly reached his orgasm, coming on your stomach with a loud moan of your name.
You whimpered when you felt the thick, warm spurts of his seed coating your stomach. You felt your insides getting wetter and wetter from the dirtiness of it all, which made you ache for more. But you came so hard earlier you doubted you could manage to reach your peak again soon.
He finally started catching his breath, running a hand through his hair. He looked down at you. “Are you okay? Did I…hurt you?” You shook your head and he smiled, placing another soft kiss on your forehead.
“Good, uh…” he trailed off as he saw you scooping up his cum from your stomach, licking it while keeping eye contact. He blinked in surprise, blushing.
“You didn’t have to do that…” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as you giggled at his bashfulness. He soon laid on the couch next to you, exhausted, your bodies tangling and overlapping as you both struggled to get comfortable on the limited space of the couch. You looked at each other with love, then you spoke, shyly nestling into his chest.
“Izumi… stay.”
He frowned— there you go, with your wishful thinking he was dreading to hear. He could feel his heart become heavier with guilt as he felt your warm, comforting presence against him contrasting the cold, hard reality of what was about to come. This is all he wanted, to have you in his arms. But he couldn’t enjoy it, not when it was happening in such an unconventional situation.
He caressed your hair slowly, trying to soothe you; because he knew that what he was about to say would hurt you deeply. It was all his fault— indulging in you when he knew another woman was waiting for him at home. He bit the inside of his cheek before speaking.
“…I can’t.” he murmured against your hair. “I can’t. I have a fianceé at home, a wedding coming, an apartment and— and if I don’t go back to my parents’ house tonight, they’re going to wonder where I am, and…”
Your loud sob cuts him off, and his eyes immediately widened in concern. He raised your head in a panic, and his heart immediately broke as he saw the distraught expression on your face. Fat tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed uncontrollably in your hands, your shoulders stuttering as you did.
He just laid there in shock, watching as you hysterically cried in front of him. It’s as if you already knew what he was about to say, you expected this— that’s why the dams broke so easily. And yet you still begged him to stay, clinging onto that last hope which made you think that maybe things would had magically been different after this heartfelt, romantic encounter. You always relied on him as your upperclassman, so you probably thought he had something prepared up his sleeve just for you. But this time he had to disappoint you by slapping the harsh truth in your face.
Izumi had never seen you this way before— wounded, broken, and utterly devastated. He had wanted so badly to comfort you, to hold you and tell you that everything would be alright, but he couldn't. Even if he tried to lie— he didn’t have any energy left to do it properly because the reality was much crueler than any falsehood.
“Not again, please, don’t leave me alone again…” you choked out, your fists gripping his shirt in protest.
Izumi’s throat tightened, tears pooling in his eyes again at the gut wrenching scene unfolding in front of him. The hopelessness in your voice felt like a punch in the stomach, a parasite eating him from the inside, and all he could do was stare at you as you bawled. The energy between you and him was now disturbed, strained.
“…I’m sorry, I…” Izumi stammered. He didn’t know what to say anymore. His apologies fell on deaf ears as you hugged him tight, your crying never stilling. There was nothing he could do to make you stop crying or reassure you— this was how things were. How could he do this to you again? How could he be so selfish?
He couldn’t help but lose himself in his fantasies just for a moment— If only he had been braver, if only he didn’t blindly follow his parents wishes and just fought for your love, for you both, if he had never started mistreating you and pushing you away... things could have been so different.
The smell of sex in the room now felt nauseating and violating. It constantly served him as a reminder that he took away your innocence without any shame— all to satisfy his selfish desires. He knew he ruined you beyond repair by doing this and for a moment, it felt exhilarating knowing you won’t have to deal with his egocentric self ever again from now on.
Because you didn’t deserve this, to be used and then left alone as if nothing happened. Leave you to cry yourself to sleep in here while he left to celebrate. His heart felt lighter at the thought that by leaving you, you’d be able to find someone better, move on, find someone that could help you forget about him, someone, anyone. As long as it wasn’t him. Even if it hurt and you’d cry for months, eventually you’d be able to start new— something he would have hated to see before coming in here. But now he realised that’s what is best for you.
He got off the couch as you cried, buckling his jeans. He then took a tissue he had with him and started cleaning you up, helping you get dressed as you still sobbed and hiccuped more softly, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t say anything as he helped you get into your jeans, deciding to only kiss your thigh a bit as a loving gesture, now lacking of any lust. He then shushed you, moving to kiss your wet cheek tenderly, his thumb brushing against the other one.
“…I love you.” he kissed your lips softly, your last kiss together— his last selfish wish. You didn’t reciprocate. He didn’t comment about it.
He straightened himself, wiping his tears quickly. Then, with heavy, dragged steps he walked to your front door. Despite promising himself he wouldn’t, he paused, looking back at you one last time, stupidly expecting you to run up to him and beg him to stay once again— beg him to run away together, date secretly, or whatever other forbidden love cliché trope he could remember at that moment. Even if he knew he could never change the situation to make you happy, even if he knew he didn’t deserve you, he wished you’d give him a reason to make him think otherwise in this last minute.
As he expected. He exhaled in defeat when he saw your back turned towards him— you were still crying, though a little more quietly, not daring to turn to look at him for one last time. You just accepted his departure, as if you had lost all faith you had in him again, just like nine years ago. That sight completely broke him, the anger and frustration he had towards himself resurfacing once again. You hated him, he quickly came to that conclusion. He was too self absorbed to think that maybe you were pushing all the blame and hate on yourself instead, that’s why you couldn’t look at him in the eyes anymore.
He gripped the doorknob and groaned, opening the door that revealed him the way back to his reality with a harsh pull, slamming it as he walked outside quickly.
The rumbling of his bike’s engine was the last thing you heard before you lulled yourself to sleep with old comforting memories, clutching the pillow that now clung to the faint smell of him.
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bi-bard · 2 years ago
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It's Been a Long, Long Time Since I've Seen my Face in Your Eyes - Dick Grayson Imagine [HBO's Titans]
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Title: It's Been a Long, Long Time Since I've Seen my Face in Your Eyes
Pairing: Dick Grayson X Sibling!Reader
Word Count: 1,887 words
Warning(s): experience in foster care, feelings of abandonment
Summary: [Inspired by "Brother" by Madds Buckley] An old face finds Dick after searching for a very long time. Once the initial shock wears off, he finds himself ready to do anything in order to make up for all of the lost time.
Author's Note: I don't know why I picked Dick for this imagine. It just felt like a natural choice.
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I would love to say that my search for Dick Grayson began with a TV report.
But in all honesty, it started long before that.
I had been looking for him for as long as I could remember.
He had promised to find me after I had been taken away. I guess that I was trying to make it easier on him.
I remember being a little kid in one of my earlier foster homes.
I had been snooping around the guy's office. They had been talking about the papers that they had been given about me. I knew that they were somewhere in the house, so I was looking for them. I thought that one of them may have a record of where my brother was.
They caught me.
They yelled at me for a long time. Stuff about invading their privacy shifted into stuff about them being my family now, so I needed to drop the subject of my brother. I had them now.
They would get rid of me a few weeks later when the wife found out she was pregnant. They couldn't afford both kids and decided which one was more important to them.
That wasn't a completely unique story. I spent a while jumping from place to place.
My search stopped. No one wanted to help me anyways. I was wasting time.
Until this one woman. She was on her own. She had always wanted a kid. There was a combination of bad men and fertility problems that troubled her before she decided on adopting.
She was sweet.
It took me years to finally ask questions about my brother. She stunned me by answering them.
She told me about this billionaire who had adopted him. Not because she had it in some records. She actually only asked because of me. It was apparently a pretty big deal. The guy had lost his parents at a similar age to Dick.
He also had the chance to adopt both of us and keep us together. He just didn't.
Bruce Wayne.
She kept trying to meet with him. He would never accept.
I kept seeing the news. Batman had a new sidekick. Robin. There weren't many images of him, but the ones I saw were recognizable. No one knows someone's signature moves quite like their family. I knew everything that my parents taught Dick.
That was how I spotted him.
It took a long time for me to finally admit that I was too angry to deal with these calls. I had gotten my college degree at that point, I had moved out on my own, and I had yet to get a single call back.
The woman who raised me tried to comfort me. Keep me from losing my mind about the whole thing, but I was angry. Angry and tired. I wanted my brother back.
I found myself on the doorstep of Wayne Manor years later.
I had originally promised the woman that raised me that I wouldn't show up on his doorstep. Not unannounced.
But I did.
It was difficult to accept that I was in my early twenties and still searching for my big brother.
"Hello," the man of the hour greeted.
"Bruce Wayne," I asked. He nodded. "I'm (Y/n)... Grayson. You have my brother."
There was a pause before Bruce insisted that I come inside. I followed him in. We found our way to a living room. He sat on one chair while motioning toward the other one. I hesitantly sat down.
"Where is he?"
"Not here," he explained. My heart dropped. "He left quite suddenly. I didn't get much of an explanation beforehand. I wish that I could be more helpful."
"Oh," I mumbled.
"You can leave your number and I can call if I hear anything."
"You don't have a number for him?"
"Based on his avoidance of my calls, I would assume so."
Or maybe he just doesn't like you, I thought to myself. You did keep his sibling from him for years.
I just nodded.
Bruce handed me some paper and a pen. I scribbled down my number and handed it back.
I left soon after.
I continued searching independently.
And then, the fated news report.
I don't know what happened. Not completely. I just remember watching a story about some kind of natural disaster. In the middle of the reporter discussing some unknown heroes, someone jumped in front of the camera to yell about the Titans being back before he was promptly shoved away.
But I caught it.
The Robin suit.
The one that I now associated with Dick and his new life. However, I knew very well that the man on the news was not Dick. He wouldn't act like that.
It was a matter of days before I got a call.
"Hello," I said.
"(Y/n) Grayson?"
"Yes."
"This is Bruce Wayne," he explained. I froze where I was, placing the pencil I had been writing with on the desk. "I told you that I would call if I received any news on Dick and his whereabouts."
"I remember."
"I know where he is now. I can give you the address."
"What took so long?"
He paused. "It was for your protection. I wouldn't willingly give you his location if I thought that it would get either one of you killed."
"Oh," I muttered. And the other fifteen years or so?
"Are you ready?"
I grabbed my pencil again, quickly finding a fresh piece of paper. "Go."
I scribbled down the address and instructions that he rattled off to me. He made me repeat them back to him to ensure that I understood everything.
The trip to San Francisco was longer than I originally thought it would be.
I had kept sleep to a minimum, focusing on getting to the address that Bruce had given me. I was constantly questioning myself.
What if Dick didn't want to see me?
What if that was why he never found me?
Was it possible that he thought that I would be some kind of burden to him?
I tried to shake those thoughts off but there wasn't much else to do during the trip.
The address was a large tower. It made me pause. This was where Dick was staying?
I checked the paper and the building a few times. Anxious. What else would you expect?
I took a deep breath before walking over and ringing the doorbell.
It took a moment before there was any response on the inside, "Hello?"
"Um, Hi," I greeted. "Sorry, but... I- I'm looking for Dick Grayson. Bruce gave me this address."
Another pause. "What's your name?"
"(Y/n)," I replied. "He... He'll probably know who I am."
There wasn't another response after that.
I was left standing outside for a few minutes before I heard the door click open. I walked inside, making sure to pull the door shut behind me.
I followed all of Bruce's instructions to the letter.
The elevator ride felt like it was an eternity. I had to focus on not letting my breathing get out of control. I was scared. I didn't know what my brother was like after all these years. Or how he felt about what happened. If he was going to believe that I was who I said I was.
It all filled my heart with this strange mix of hope and dread.
Dick was waiting at the elevator when the doors opened. I slowly stepped out as he watched me. I adjusted my duffel bag strap on my shoulder.
"(Y/n)."
It wasn't a question. It was an observation. Like he was confirming it in his mind. Reminding himself that this wasn't a dream or hallucination.
"Hi, Dick," I muttered, feeling tears building in my eyes.
"Oh my God..."
I dropped my duffel bag as Dick stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. My arms wrapped around him, and I tightly grabbed the fabric of his shirt. I closed my eyes and hid my face in his shoulder.
My muffled crying seemed to only make him hug me tighter.
"You promised to find me," I mumbled. "I waited for you."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so... so sorry."
We stayed in the hug for a little while longer.
I kept thinking about the younger version of me. The one that was trying to beg Dick to stay. The one that begged to go see their big brother. The one that started searching for him so long ago.
I let out a heavy breath. It was like I was letting go of some kind of weight. It was nice.
I stepped back, wiping my eyes as I looked at his face again.
He grinned at me.
"Dick..."
He turned around when he heard his name. I stepped to the side, looking at the three people at the end of the hall. I wiped my eyes again, trying to ensure that I wasn't still crying in front of a group of strangers.
"Who's this," the girl asked, her arms crossed over her chest. She seemed nervous.
"This is (Y/n)."
"Oh my God," she mumbled.
I looked back at Dick. Had he talked about me? All these years... had he talked about me?
"I saw you," she said. My confusion must've been more obvious than I knew. "I... I had visions... about what happened to your parents."
I looked at the floor for a moment, fidgeting with my fingers a bit.
"We didn't," one of the guys spoke up, causing us all to look at him. "We're still a bit confused."
"(Y/n) is my younger sibling," Dick explained. "After our parents died, we got separated. I was 12. (Y/n) was 7."
"Bruce only took one of you in?"
We both nodded.
"Um, I'm Gar," the other boy stepped forward and held out a hand for me to shake. I shook it and grinned.
"Jason," the first guy that spoke up nodded at me. I nodded back.
I looked over at the girl.
She blinked a few times like she was still shocked to see me there. "Rachel."
"Nice to meet you, Rachel," I said.
There was a pause in the room.
"I... I'm sorry to be rude, but I am... very tired," I muttered.
Dick reached down and grabbed my duffel bag. "There are a few extra rooms. Come on."
I waved at the other three as I followed him.
I tried to stay close to him as we made it through the halls.
He placed my bag on a bed. I looked around the small room. It was nice. Really nice, actually.
"I'll let you get some rest-"
I stopped him by hugging him again. He hugged me back.
"I'll right down the hall, got it?"
I nodded, still not stepping back for a few more moments.
"I'm so sorry that I didn't find you."
I stepped back and grinned at him. "It's okay."
In all honesty, I didn't blame him. I don't think I ever did. He was a kid just like I was. Not to mention the added pressure that he was facing. In the end, I understood it all. Dick was just like me: doing the best with what we had been given.
I was just grateful to find him now.
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Dick Grayson Tag List: @igotanidea
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xknivesandpensx · 1 year ago
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Like Pieces of a Puzzle
Chapter 13
Summary: What if Harry wasn't the only extra student called upon to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? Far from the most popular candidate, Draco not only has to take on the trials but also deal with his unexpected feelings for Hermione. Will he be able to face the challenges as well as follow his heart? Chapter length will vary. I'll be referencing both the books and movie versions. Some things from what I've previously written will be mentioned, all of which you can find here.  And for those who asked to be tagged: @dayane245love
Hermione tried not to watch Harry too closely as they descended into the dungeons after lunch. She knew Double Potions always caused him to be a bit petulant, especially since they shared class with the Slytherins (not that Snape aided in uplifting his mood either).
A part of her remained more concerned about his fight with Ron, given the two still haven’t spoken to one another and had no intention of trying to mend any bridges. It irritated Harry every time Hermione tried bringing him up so she settled on letting them figure it out.
“I finished your essay for you last night. Although, you really should’ve done it yourself considering we’re working on antidotes today,” Hermione mentioned, breaking the silence.
“Between avoiding everyone and the common room in general, I hadn’t the time. Thanks anyway. The last thing I need is Snape going on about another unfinished assignment.” Harry paused, catching sight of Malfoy and his usual crew standing outside the door.
Each of them wore large badges with the words POTTER STINKS glowing a bright green against a black background. Initially, Harry thought they had S.P.E.W. written across, seeing as Hermione kept pestering others about the importance of house elves. He should’ve known they’d never wear one.
He wished they’d stop blocking the entrance. It gave him no choice but to face the group when all he sought was to get Snape’s lesson over with. Harry already braced himself for another round of Hermione’s consistent chant of ignore them, said under her breath whenever someone commented on his champion status.
He didn’t care too much how Malfoy took to handling the situation. He appeared rather coolheaded on the outside, yet his anxious disposition on the night of their choosing remained locked in his memory.
“Like them, Potter?” Draco asked after noticing the pair. “It comes to no surprise you’re least popular. Even your own house thinks the worst of you for getting in the tournament. It wouldn’t surprise me if they started asking for some as well.” 
Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring Pansy’s loud giggles and evident necessity to be right at his side. “Oh, how very funny. Really witty. I’m shocked you didn’t add anything more.”
Almost magnetically his gaze drew towards her. It hardly mattered if Hermione donned the same uniform as everyone else, she still managed to stand out against the cluster of students slowly filling behind. The second he saw her in such a light, an image of his parents flashed, forcing a steady reminder.
He suppressed what he could and pulled out an extra badge, offering it to her. “Want one, Granger? I’ve got loads. But don’t touch my hand. I just washed it. I wouldn’t want a Mudblood sliming it up.”
Harry’s embarrassment, cheeks lightly flushed after laughter erupted, quickly jumped to anger. He kept the feeling buried underneath for days and it finally found reason to burst through. Before he got the chance to take out his wand, he felt a pull at his arm.
“Stop! You’ll get in trouble,” Hermione warned, aware of what he’d resort to. She then faced Draco, unwilling to be fazed by the other Slytherins staring her down.  “I don’t seem to recall you minding me touching your hand when you needed help.”
Draco lost his smug smile, tensing slightly. He glowered, sneering instead. “It sad, really, that you’ve got to make things up. As if I’d ever let you come anywhere near me,”
“Which is more likely? Me creating a story or you denying it ever happened? I can’t see how I’d benefit from lying.” Hermione ignored the heaviness against her chest, all too conscious of the puzzled expressions forming after her retort.
He shrugged, trying to force an indifferent pretense. “I’m not denying anything because it’s not true. And actually, I don’t appreciate the accusation.”
Harry started to wonder when the two of them started having rows of their own. They always began between Malfoy and himself, then somehow switched focus whenever Hermione got involved. Their bickering almost reminded him of how she and Ron constantly fought.
Suddenly, the noise died down. Harry didn’t need to turn around to find out why.
“What are you all doing standing outside the classroom?” Snape asked, eyeing each of them, lingering slightly longer on the Gryffindors. “I suggest you get in your seats before I start docking points.”
Harry hurried in and settled in his normal chair next to Hermione, trying not to glare daggers at the professor’s back when his head turned. Positive a detention would’ve been given if not for the Slytherins causing the holdup.
Snape made his way to the front. “We went over the specifics of your assignment last we saw one another. You’ll be split into pairs of my choosing… so stop inching yourself closer to Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. It won’t help you any, I’m afraid. No, I think you’ll benefit from working alongside Mr. Longbottom. The two of you seem to be on par when it comes to your potion skills.”
Harry’s hate for the man burned deeper. He didn’t know what was worse, getting openly mocked or enduring Malfoy’s not so subtle snickering.
It surprised Hermione to hear her name right after Draco’s, though it looked like a couple of students from different houses were mixed together. She gathered her belongings, requiring a few steady breaths prior to joining the empty space at his table.
Ron, sitting next to Dean, gave her a sympathetic look, thinking it rather unlucky to have him as a partner.
“You may all talk quietly amongst yourselves.” Snape paused for a moment, slowly folding his arms. “I will check on your progress in an hour’s time. If I catch any fooling around or off topic chatter, make no mistake, I will fail you. Anti-venom is not excessively complex but it requires accuracy. I want you to brew them carefully. As for your homework, it is to be given to me at the end of class.”
Draco kept his observation forward. He fought the wave of nervous energy threatening to rupture his chest. It proved to be futile. With each intake of air another wave of apprehension surged, feeling more hostile than the last. She sat so close the scent of her shampoo lingered heavily in the air. Some kind of flower, roses he presumed. The florid aroma floated about them during any close encounter, it took until now to pinpoint the exact smell.
He suddenly forgot how to speak. The constant repeating of reprimanding thoughts in his head blocked the outside noise. Maybe he should just say it and get the words out before they choked him.
“Are you paying attention to anything I’ve said?” Hermione asked, having already lit the fire under the caldron and spread out their needed ingredients. “I’m sure you don’t want to be partners any more than I do, but I’m not willing to fail because of it.”
He snapped back into reality, too jumbled up inside to properly respond and instead commented on something else. “Why did you have to mention that in front of everyone?”
Draco regretted the question the instant it left his lips. He switched his focus on his potions book, turning to the correct page, thinking she’d leave it unremarked upon. Obviously, he was wrong.
Hermione threw fire seeds into the boiling water, sprinkling a little anjelica in while stirring. “You know, you might actually be a decent person to be around if you weren’t so hung up on blood status. And I only mentioned it because…”
She hesitated, wondering why herself.
“Because you always have to prove a point, isn’t that right, Granger? Can’t even keep quiet in class. How silly of me to possibly expect anything less. And make no mistake, it won’t happen again.” Draco skimmed the page before taking a knife to chop a handful of vervain.
“I didn’t realize it was such a big secret. Honestly, I’m not sure why I bother. If you don’t want to be nice to me than be a little more consistent. It’s driving me mad.” She muttered the last part, reflecting more precisely of her emotional state whenever he flipped the switch.
“Maybe I could if you stopped making me feel –– ” Draco cut himself off, directing his gaze downward. He almost let it slip. How stupid of a mistake and with so many people nearby. Not that either of them raised their voices above a whisper.
Heat suddenly rose to his face, thinking his must've brain short circuited for a moment. The crushing reality of practically saying it out loud compelled him to remain quiet in fear of admitting it in full.
Confusion flickered, her heart speeding up a bit.
“Feel what?” The words left her in near stumble. By studying his countenance, she noticed a vague yet palpable difference. Something about his expression threw her off.
“Nothing. Forget it.” He went back to make another attempt at their project only to stop, sending a glare her way. “Will you quit staring at me and get back to stirring.”
Resisting the urge to do the exact opposite, she obliged. Though not willing to let the matter slip by. “I’m going to take a guess based off how you’ve been acting and say you’re afraid you’ll start to like me as a person if you admit it out loud? You’re scared if we have a conversation or get along, you might think I’m no different than yourself.”
Her analysis reminded him of when they were stuck in a supply closet at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop at the end of last year. She read him easily back then in regards to his boggart, understanding more than he wanted or thought anyone could. He denied the absolute certitude of her deduction then as he intended to do now. Given her accuracy, thankfully Hermione hadn’t probed further and picked the pieces apart until she realized he genuinely felt something romantically towards her.
“Brillian story you just concocted. Making it a habit, I see.” He tossed the vervain in the cauldron. The liquid took on a shade of light green. “As if it’s possible for a filthy little Mudblood to mean anything to me.”
Hermione fought the realness of his answer, asking the next question more for herself. “Would it really be so bad?”
“Yes,” he snapped, noticeably catching Harry’s attention. “How about you try shutting up so we can get this stupid assignment over with.”
She said nothing else in return, fighting the need to further press her belief. Maybe all she managed to do by pointing out what she thought to be true, subjected him to push back. Again. Or perhaps Hermione simply desired her assumption to fall in the right. It was as if the more time they talked, the more justifiable her affections became. Merely to fracture whenever he resorted to open contempt.
Draco’s arm suddenly shot out, grabbing hold of her hand to prevent her from touching the snake venom required to counterbalance the antidote. She clearly didn’t notice it dripping down the side of the vial. “Watch what you’re doing.”
Even a second of direct interaction would produce an injurious effect strong enough to be sent promptly to Madam Pomfrey.
A light static pulse embarked across his skin from mere contact. His blue eyes met a pair of brown as he saw her features morph into a shy, flustered sort of quality, bordering on surprise and uncertainty.
The whole class might be watching them and he’d never know. Draco’s inability to move, much less look away, blinded him to the outside world. He knew the longer he remained frozen, the worse off he’d be, yet he couldn’t detach his fingers. Right after saying he’d never allow it too.
The sound of squeaking hinges screeched loudly, jolting him back. Draco let go immediately, drawing away as far as possible. His lungs unable to function.
Colin Creevey scurried past the students and spoke directly to Professor Snape. “I’m supposed to bring Harry and Draco upstairs. Mr. Bagman asked to see them. I think they want to take photographs and interview the champions.”
A long pause ensued, for if it was simply Harry, a negative response would’ve been given. “Very well.” He glanced between the two boys. “Hand me your homework on the way out. Your partner will finish your assignment and their grade will reflect your own.”
Hermione kept still as he proceeded to leave her side. Several things were circling her mind. Mostly on Draco, who oddly seemed to react opposite to his spoken aversion. But why overanalyze? It bewildered her more than ever and frankly she needed simplicity. An easy flow into a relationship. Something he’d never give her.
Knowing that still didn’t relinquish how she felt by any means. 
Draco got out the door first, not very keen on meeting anyone’s eyes. At this rate he’ll end up admitting his feelings by accident. It left him rather tangled up inside.
Colin departed once they exited the dungeon (mentioning his need to fetch Cedric), only then did Harry bring himself to say something. He saw their entire exchange near the end, lacking the ability to hear them, of course. And given Neville’s faulty skills in potions, his knew grade would suffer.
He certainly hated the idea of photos and answering questions. The ridicule he already received hit bad enough. This held the potential of making it a lot worse.
Harry waited until they came into the entrance hall, quickening his strides to keep up, fully intent to be blunt. “What’s going on with you and Hermione?”
The question hit like the shatter of glass. If he noticed, who else did? “How about you mind your own business, Potter.”
“Funny, I didn’t realize there was anything happening between the two of you to mind.” Harry waited yet no response came. “You’ve been acting dodgy lately, more than normal in any case and it’s usually while Hermione’s around. I really don’t care about your reasons, though I can guess. Just leave her alone.”
“And if I don’t then what?” Draco stopped, looking rather peeved and scornful. “Since you’re so very bothered by it, perhaps I won’t leave her alone at all. I usually refrain from going out of my way where that Mudblood is concerned. I suppose I simply required the right motivation.”
A hollow threat, no doubt, but a good excuse if he got caught near her.
Harry’s attempt to retort vanished as they approached the classroom Colin mentioned while they were ascending the stairs, Draco gone from his side instantly. Exasperation flared, lodged in his throat. He’d have to give Hermione the heads-up once this whole ordeal ended.
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marysunshine23 · 2 years ago
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When you’re so fucking done with the Retsuko/Haida ship trying to work that you revamp your OC just to insert your rage into the show.
Meet Aiko the cocker spaniel. She is the head of Carrier Man Trading Co., Ltd.’s visual advertising department and was the poster child of the company until they decided not to have a mascot anymore. She’s friends with Retsuko, Fenneko, and Haida, and has had a thing for Haida since she met him. While she’s generally very nice and friendly, she tends to be very aggressive when she disapproves or disagrees with something; though she does try to be respectful of others’ decisions. It’s clear that she is a little disjointed from the working class, since she’s mostly at the job to keep herself busy, she generally tries to be understanding and support the needs of those around her. But if she gets mad at someone, she’s not above being petty and passive-aggressive.
When it comes to Retsuko’s various trials, tribulations, and boyfriends, Aiko is very supportive, though does voice some doubts in the beginning. She’s very much an “I told you so” friend, and even starts her statements with, “if I’m wrong, you can gloat; but if I’m right I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’.” Which she usually utilizes. She’s often the one to check on Retsuko when no one else has heard from her, but spends a lot of her time with Fenneko and Haida at the bar after work. The only time Aiko stops being as supportive of Retsuko is when her actions are causing other people problems.
Even though Aiko is very vocal about her crush and is often inviting Haida to go out for drinks or a date, she respects the fact that he has a thing for Retsuko. However, when Retsuko initially rejected Haida, Aiko made damn sure to be beside him. And from that moment forward she continued to be a (mostly) objective witness to the relationship between Retsuko and Haida. However, when Retsuko refused to help Haida with his gaming/gambling addiction, Aiko promptly took Haida in and told him that if he wanted a roof over his head, he’d have to go to therapy.
Whenever Aiko saw Retsuko, she made sure that she knew how much Aiko disapproved of how she was going about the relationship; even going as far to make petty remarks like, “I’d never let my boyfriend live in an internet café when he was down on his luck.” Passive-aggressive remarks like this are why the two aren’t seen much together at the end of the series. Aiko doesn’t make very many of these remarks to Haida, only saying once or twice, “I’d never do that to you if...” Despite her obvious jealousy, she never tries to break Retsuko and Haida up; she assumes with how things are going they’ll get a divorce anyway.
Trivia!
Aiko is taller than Retsuko but shorter than Kaebe
She learned how to make cute lunchboxes from Anai
Aiko would like to become better friends with Gori and Washimi, but thinks they’re both too cool for her
She is technically a millionaire, but donates a lot to charities
Aiko loves homemade food, even if it’s just instant
Most of her fashion is modest chic, where everything looks fairly inexpensive but is actually a brand name
Some of the employees in Aiko’s department claim that she is an alpha, but she says she’s just “an aggressive beta”
Her favorite types of music are j-pop, bubblegum-metal, punk rock, heavy metal, show tunes, and techno swing
Aiko carries a safety keychain with her at all times; it’s Cinnamoroll themed. She gives Retsuko a Pompompurin one after she is attacked
Her surname is Cockell.
Aiko’s ideal alcohol of choice is rosé, but when Aki goes out drinking, she usually only has a very small portion of alcohol (since drinking a "normal" amount will get her in the hospital). After the initial shot, she goes for sweeter beverages
She's demisexual
Despite being a child model, Aki still went to school
She used to get in trouble for drawing on her work, so now she has a drawing pad in every desk she works at
Aki picked up singing and drumming in a "Light Music" Club in High School
Any time she's too scared to go home, Aki's work chair is a fold-out bed. She keeps changes of clothes and hygiene stuff in her work locker.
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dionysia-does-stories · 1 year ago
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The Heart Stalks What It Wants
Cringetober 2023, Day 11: Yandere
On AO3
Rating G - 1025 words - Sailor Moon- Minako/Kunzite
Summary: The Shitennou have been reborn as ordinary humans, but Minako doesn't trust them. She decides to stalk Kunzite, but gets more than she bargained for when she sees him with another woman.
Story:
Mina had to special order her spy outfit. It wasn’t anything elaborate but she had wanted the black body suit to fit like a glove without being a thin spandex material. The beret she already had. The spy gear had been furnished by a judgmental Ami. 
Mina had initially tried to just sneak it all out. She thought with Artemis’s help she’d have no trouble raiding the secret HQ supplies. But Artemis wasn’t on her side. He said stalking Kunzite around his new human life was invasive and wrong. She was so sure that Artemis would see her point that she’d bought him a cat-sized beret to match hers.
No one agreed with Mina that this was a good plan. She hadn’t asked Mamorou but that was because she knew what he’d think. Mamorou would probably just tell Kunzite what she was up to, ruining the whole thing. He called them by their human names now. As if they’s ever met as strangers. As if they hadn’t remembered their past lives the moment they saw Mamorou.
Usagi hadn’t told any of them that she brought the shitennou back the last time she remade the world. Not any of the senshi. She did tell Mamorou. Apparently he had been keeping their spirits in crystals and talking to them when he needed advice. Pathetic.
On the other hand, Mina was a little jealous of Mamorou. She would have liked to keep Kunzite trapped in a rock only to be brought out when she had something she wanted to lecture him about.
Now Kunzite was on the loose. He had a human name, Kenshin. Mina’s eyes rolled reflexively every time she heard someone say it. She’d told them that he wasn’t to be trusted. He betrayed them (her) during the Silver Millennium. He was no different now. And Mina was going to prove it.
She was going to follow him. She was going to learn every detail of his new life. Every weakness he had available to exploit would be hers. She would know him as completely as she once had in another life. More, she wouldn’t be caught unaware this time. She wouldn’t trust him past the point of safety and good sense. 
She got the address for Kunzite’s apartment off of Mamorou’s phone. He’d apparently been reborn into a wealthy family (which was just <i> ‘be pond the pail’ <i> *. Not only did he get a shiny new life, it was comfortable and easy.) 
She got out of bed while it was still dark (something she never did). She wanted to get to his apartment bright and early, but that didn’t mean she was going to skimp on her beauty routine. If anything she took more elaborate care with her hair and make-up. 
She believed that it was important to look your best when you went to war. She definitely was’t trying to look good on the off chance that Kunzite spotted her.
She lurked outside his apartment, following at a safe distance when he left for the day. He walked which surprised her. It made him far more convenient to follow, but she thought he’d be a drive everywhere in a car guy.
Cars hadn’t existed when she last knew him. But in that place, he’d loved technology and things that went fast. She expected the modern version of him to be <i> ‘the devil on gears’ <i> *.
He went into a coffee shop where he met a beautiful women. She had fair hair and eyes that sparkled like starlight. He bought her coffee and Mina almost charged into the shop to demand what he was doing. He was not allowed to be with other women.
Kunzite was supposed to be miserably repenting all the harm that he had done to Mina. He was supposed to think of no one but her. The other senshi were constantly harassing her to give him another chance. And here he was with some woman.
Mina just barely managed to keep up her spy work from a distance. She made notes, took pictures, plotted this woman’s demise.
When their coffees were done, Kunzite took her shopping. Mina saw red briefly. They puttered around expensive boutiques and specialty stores. Mina slinked along behind them angrier by the minute. They were laughing and teasing each other with such closeness. This couldn’t be just a first date.
An icy chill squeezed Mina’s heart. She was forced to finally admit to herself that she was stalking Kunzite because she missed him. She still loved him. She would have done anything just to see him.
She slumped down miserable into a cafe chair. The waiter came over to see what on Earth she was doing, but her apocalyptic expression warned him off. She was <i> ‘low in the recycling plant’ <i> *. Lower even then that. She was in hell.
“Minako?” A cheerful feminine voice called out. 
Mina looked up to see the beautiful fair haired woman approaching her. Kunzite walked cautiously behind her.
“Do I know you?” Mina asked, very confused.
“I guess not,” The woman was laughing as she said it,. “My brother’s told me all about you. Well, not all.” She blushed. “And I remember a little of the Silver Millennium myself. But those are all memories from before any senshi ever even came to Earth.”
Something clicked in place in Mina’s memories. Kunzite had told her about his sister. She’d died young, during the first Negaverse attack. Mina had never met her.
“Oh,” was all Mina managed to say out loud.
“I love what you’re wearing!” Kunzite’s sister exclaimed.
“Thanks,” said Mina. “It’s my spy outfit.” 
Kunzite’s eyes did a long, slow, perusal of her skin tight ensemble. Mina felt like she might catch on fire.
“What were you spying on?” Kunzite asked. There was a warmth to his tone. She recognized it. That tone was the heat of his passion and the comfort of his love. 
Mina had another grand realization. He knew. He’d known from before he left his apartment. He had planned this whole day for her benefit. And it had worked.
“Does it could as spying if your mark wants to be followed?”
**********
be pond the pail = beyond the pale
the devil on gears = hell on wheels
low in the recycling plan = down in the dumps
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ryuzakemo128 · 2 years ago
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Sleep Specialist's Results
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Marianna (Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff, Horror
Masterlist: LINK
Trigger Warning(s):
Nightmares, Night Terrors, Bad Dreams
Swearing, Cussing, Cursing
Sequel to: Disassembled Creatures
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Marianna's Point of View
The waiting room is eerie silence as I anxiously awaited my turn to see the sleep specialist. I fidgeted with the sleeves, wiggling around in my seat and my foot tapping. I couldn't help but feel like I was being swallowed whole by my nervous erratic behaviour. I have this issue for years.
Since I can remember, sleep has always eluded me. The countless nights of tossing, turning and then staring at the ceiling while Eddie slept peacefully beside me. The longing need to have great night's rest, to wake feeling like I didn't need more sleep and to feel like a normal functioning human being. After what it felt like an eternity until my name was finally called, a nurse came over and lead me to the doctor's office.
The sleep specialist's office was dimly lit, with soft ambient music playing in the background. The air felt heavy with anticipation as I took a seat across from the doctor's desk. Dr. Adams, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, greeted me with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Ms. Sokolova," Dr. Adams said, his voice soothing and calming. "I've reviewed your case history and conducted some initial assessments. It seems you've been struggling with sleep-related issues for quite some time."
I nodded, my hands tightly gripping the edge of the chair. "Yes, it's been going on for years. I've tried various remedies and therapies, but nothing has worked so far. It's affecting my daily life, my energy levels, and my relationship with Eddie. I have no trouble falling asleep that's not the issue, I have a sleep schedule which I do each evening before I get ready for bed." I handed him the detailed written form of my sleep schedule to him from my folder.
The schedule has things like exercising on a treadmill for an hour, drinking a herbal tea to help me relax enough to sleep through the night. Then I would have a pleasant warm shower. I have listed the medications I have taken in the past to help with sleep deprivation. Sometimes I even just stick to having three hour naps and just do work stuff I haven't finished yet until I'm tired enough to back to sleep.
"These nightmares also occur when I sleep on my back," I added as he went through the sleep schedule.
Dr. Adams nodded, studying the sleep schedule intently. "Nightmares can certainly contribute to sleep disturbances," he acknowledged. "Sleeping on your back may be triggering them in some way. We'll delve deeper into that aspect during our assessment."
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. Finally, someone who might be able to understand and help me. Dr. Adams continued, "Based on your sleep schedule and the information you've provided, it seems like you've been doing everything right to promote good sleep hygiene. However, there might be underlying factors at play that we need to explore."
The appointment went better than what I thought it would be and as soon as I got back home I called Eddie to make sure he knew what happened, what the plan was going to be and that he didn't have to worry.
Eddie picked up the phone on the second ring, his voice filled with concern. "Hey, Marianna. How did it go? Are you okay?"
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. "Hey, Eddie. Yeah, it went okay. I saw a sleep specialist, Dr. Adams. He seems really knowledgeable and empathetic. He believes there might be some underlying factors causing my sleep issues, so we're going to delve deeper into it. There will be a few more tests run, but it's a lot more complex than just Insomnia like I thought it was. Don't worry you'll be the first person I'll call if anything happens or if anything goes wrong. Once I figure this out, we can talk about whether or not we still want to have kids of our own or go ahead with adoption."
We were talking about whether or not we wanted to adopt or have children of our own three months ago. I didn't know whether or not my sleeping problem would be something genetic and could be passed down, if that was the case we wanted to consider other options. Eddie remained silent on the other end of the line, and I could sense the weight of the decision hanging in the air.
"We'll talk more about this later, don't worry about needing to speak about right now and I know how much you would rather speak about it in person." I added before he said anything else.
Eddie sighed on the other end of the line, and I could almost picture the worried expression on his face. "You're right, Marianna. We'll discuss it in person when you're ready. Your health and well-being come first. Just focus on getting the answers and treatment you need."
A sense of relief washed over me as Eddie's words sank in. Despite the uncertainty surrounding my sleep issues and the impact it could have on our plans for the future, Eddie's unwavering support gave me strength. I knew we would face whatever challenges came our way together.
Eddie told me about what they planned to do with the tour and where they were going in America. By the sounds of it, a lot of work has gone into this and I am proud of him. As Eddie shared the details of their upcoming tour, my mind began to wander. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy as he talked about the excitement and adventure that awaited him on the road. While I was grateful for his support, a part of me wished I could join him on this journey, free from the shackles of my sleep issues.
"I'm really proud of you, Eddie," I said, genuine admiration lacing my voice. "It sounds like an incredible opportunity, and I know you'll do amazing things. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself while you're away, okay?"
Eddie's voice softened, and I could tell he understood my unspoken longing to be with him. "Of course, Marianna. I'll make sure to prioritize my well-being too. And hey, maybe someday we'll have the chance to go on an adventure together, without any worries or sleep troubles holding us back."
I smiled, the image of us embarking on an adventure together bringing a glimmer of hope to my tired soul. "That sounds wonderful, Eddie. I look forward to that day."
I smiled, the image of us embarking on an adventure together bringing a glimmer of hope to my tired soul. "That sounds wonderful, Eddie. I look forward to that day." I added. "I certainly hope you've eaten dinner, don't tell me you haven't."
Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. "Don't worry, Marianna. I just finished dinner before we started talking. I'm taking care of myself, I promise."
"Did you take one of my jackets with you? I know you said you wanted to take one or two of them with you." I asked thinking about it more. "I added an oversized hoodie in case it gets cold."
Eddie laughed. "Yes, I did. I couldn't resist taking one of your jackets with me. It's like having a piece of you with me on the road. And the oversized hoodie sounds perfect for those chilly nights. I'll make sure to wear it and think of you."
"If you need anything else, I find a way to get it to you as soon I as I can." I mentioned thinking about it still. "Just because I can't sleep well, doesn't mean I can't make sure you have what you need." I added rather quickly.
Eddie's voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Marianna. I appreciate your support and willingness to help, even with your own struggles. You're incredible, you know that?"
"I can go on and on about how cool you were. I have a feeling one of us is getting rather sleepy and it's not me." I replied stifling a giggle.
Eddie chuckled, his voice filled with warmth. "Yeah, I think you're right. Tour preparations have left me exhausted. But I'll be fine. I'll get a good night's rest before the tour kicks off. You take care of yourself too, Marianna."
"I will. I'll call you tomorrow okay?" I replied sipping my cup of sleep tea.
"Sounds good," Eddie replied, his voice becoming softer. "Sleep well, Marianna. I love you."
"I love you now and forever. Sleep well and don't let the bed bugs bite." I replied with a contented sigh, I hung up the phone and set it aside. The weight of the day's events began to settle, and I knew it was time to take care of myself. Dr. Adams had given me a glimmer of hope, and although there were still uncertainties ahead, I felt a renewed sense of determination.
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microwaving-my-ocs · 2 years ago
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Character Profiles (2023 Feb 7)
Sam(antha)
Sammie's older sister by a couple of years
used to be annoyed by his clinginess, but upon their entrance to the hostile ducal household, became more consciously protective and open with her affection
was meant to become a spy at an all-female organisation, but switched places with her sickly younger brother and entered the army to give him a better chance at survival
was given a strong magic charm by the old granny so she wouldn't be violated, but it made her kind of unpopular and she'd get beaten up instead
prodigy at the sword
a terror on the battlefield and made a name for herself at a relatively young age
died in battle (assassinated)
ribcage deformities from improper chest binding
no one ever truly knows how she really felt about her life and how she felt marching to her death.
Sam(uel)
nickname: Sammie (Sam took the cooler and more mature nickbame first and refused to give it up)
partial to feminine attire and hobbies since young (think Shu). would play dolls with Sam
charismatic and great at making ppl feel comfy with him.
switched from being a crossdressing spy to a businessman in his own name (no surname) bc it was just very tedious to keep crossdressing. his business is secondary, though. mostly he endears himself to others by doing good deeds / getting win-wins (and reporting the intel he got from their interactions)
always looked up to and idolised Sam, so he irrationally believed that she must be fine in the army as she claimed
when he grew older and could no longer deceive himself, he vowed to quickly get her out
wants to give Sam whatever happiness and positive feelings that she had sacrificed so much for to give to him
his sister's death seriously destabilised him. did not necessarily believe the best in people, but had always wanted a win-win situation. stopped having the energy and will to keep doing so
he came out of Sam's death slightly wrong. a little too focused on becoming her, very focused on keeping her memory alive. very cognizant of the loss and the danger that he is in. jumpy, wary and on the defensive, unlike his confident past self.
Granny
luckily for him, most of his support system is still intact and know his identity. he acts and thinks like his old self around them, but he often is in his Sam persona trying to get things done. he feels more and more alienated from his old self.
beginnings of a crush on Bestie before they went their separate ways and he went to the army. then shit hit the fan and he hasn't quite had the headspace for his feelings since
leader of one of the houses in the spy network
was a lot more heartless as a young adult, but now she just wants to chill and raise these children well
knows she might get punished for helping the sams switch, but she's gonna die soon anw of old age so she doesn't care
saw herself in samantha. failed to save someone when she was younger and it haunted her ever since. (idk what abt sammie tho.... sammie will hv to live w that regret now. in fact its a miracle samantha lasted that long)
she tries to check in on samantha, which is how and why a stronger intelligence link between her hse and the army was formed. the sams send letters thru it sometimes.
Bestie
endgame
met Sammie after he has already acclimatised to crossdressing
her moral compass mostly works like this: this will make sammie happy -> do it. this will trouble sammie -> don't do it.
initially fell for him before she learned that he was, in fact, crossdressing.
has not confessed yet. having her love requited was never a big deal for her bc they had a v secure r/s
very secure in her friendship with Sammie. She won't ever sacrifice herself unless it's necessary to prevent an even greater sadness to Sammie. she won't let MC sacrifice herself either.
left the orphanage to receive training at the magic tower. when she reunited w Sammie, it was to deliver news of his little sister. personally witnessed the drastic change from normal sammie to overwhelmed sammie. she never wants to see that happen again.
she's a little yandere because sammie is so good at making you feel seen, but they've both been actively working on establishing & keeping to boundaries. it's just that prioritising sammie's happiness still tends to be what brings her the most happiness
will eliminate anyone and anything that makes him sad. this means she will not go after MC even though she sometimes feel jealous, bc Sammie wants MC by his side. does not begrudge this bc she wholeheartedly wants Sammie to be as happy as possible
later became friends with MC personally
from the magic tower. discovers the brainwashing.
MC
marriage of convenience w Sammie.
a little fucked up by how her family treated her. internalised the idea that she should sacrifice her happiness for others' sakes in order to be acknowledged/be moral.
she very badly wanted to be the pinnacle of morality bc she wanted to be a gd spouse for the ex.
mistakenly believes that she should sacrifice herself so that Bestie and Sammie can get together. Bestie saves her bc she knows Sammie wouldn't want her to sacrifice herself. Bestie has seen how much Sammie hated that his sister chose to sacrifice herself without considering his feelings. Bestie knows better.
"why are you saving me? our marriage has alr more or less done its job giving him legitimacy. if i'm gone, you can marry him no qns asked." bestie pausing to give her an incredulous look. gg i mean yeah theres the whole marriage of convenience thing, but more than that, he alr sees you as one of his ppl. he'll be crushed if you die for him. / and besides, she doesnt need him to dote on her like a lover to continue wanting the best for him. it may be necc for others, but its always been this way for her. this is how she honours her feelings for him, and has been for years.
eventually gets back tgt w her ex after he was freed from brainwashing
Ex
family's superpower is the instictually know right from wrong. naturally, this lands them into a hereditary clerical role (leaders of the national religion)
born with the strongest of this superpower in many generations
so when he announced that his powers told him he was meant to wed MC, no one argued and they were engaged p young. they spent a lot of time tgt and fell in love and built a very strong and trusting r/s
no longer trusts his own judgement OR power after waking up from the brainwashing. yknow the feeling when ur entire worldview gets destabilised? yeah
(Half-)Sister
main antagonist
mom had an affair w a siren and that's where she got her brainwashing powers
was born with a frail body. family was so focused on her health that they accidentally neglected MC. neither of them knew any better and thought it was the natural way of things.
passively used the brainwashing ability without knowing from the moment it manifested when she was a toddler. which means that everyone who spent a lot of time w her was infatuated with her and listened to her every whim. this fucks her up bc she has no concept of boundaries now. sees it as her right to take and take and for others to bend over backwards to fulfil her requests, even at their own detriment. grows up w the mentality of a toddler bc no one has ever scolded her
idk possibly the biological dad comes in and decides to use her to gain political power. he has natural immunity to the charm. possibly the first person to ever school her. maybe she gets development here.
terrible maturity levels bc she has very very rarely ever been told no. the few ppl who have were also immediately punished, so surely it was THEY who were wrong, right?
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wooahaes · 2 years ago
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under the sun [dk]
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pairing: non-idol!seokmin x gn!reader
prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.
word count: 8.7k
warning: a lot of emotional vulnerability between reader and seokmin (angst). skinship. vague food mentions (they cook, so food implied). seokmin and reader both cry on each other multiple times. fluffy idiots who fall for each other and know it. minimal editing, admittedly (its 6 am).
daisy’s notes: im sorry i have 0 impulse control and wrote this in the span of a few hours.
summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world... and between you and one of them.
< day 3 || masterlist  ||
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Things were... hard in the beginning. Seokmin knew that just as much as everyone else did. Despite the fact he was always a ray of sunshine, according to everyone who knew him, he struggled when he first showed up with nothing but the clothes on his back. He hid that struggle well, in his opinion, since no one ever seemed to comment on it--more-so on the lack of a struggle. Joshua had once said it was like Seokmin had always been right there with them with how well he seemed to mesh into the group. He just smiled and nodded along, agreeing that the group always felt like family since he stepped into it--but he knew that he struggled a little with feeling... out of place. Maybe it came in part from being the only person there who wasn’t found by Seungcheol. It was something that still stung to think about, in a weird sense that he never told anyone. Like he had tread on forbidden ground, his stay allowed by someone who couldn’t fully guarantee it (but Jeonghan and Joshua had both promised him that he would be cared for, that Seungcheol would let him stay despite the anxiety in the back of his mind telling him that his word seemed to hold more power than theirs). Seokmin learned in time that, while Seungcheol did lead them, he valued the opinions of everyone there. People were allowed to make their case when fights broke out among the group (and they did: Seokmin witnessed so many and partook in some), and Seungcheol listened. But that was something Seokmin learned in time.
He saw himself in you, if he was honest. That same inkling of uncertainty that bled through in certain actions. He saw it in Mingyu when he first came, all hidden behind that happy exterior and a charming smile as he got along with everyone. In Minghao, too, in the way he retreated into himself, too uncertain of the others at first until Seokmin (and Jun--Seokmin knew it was a collaborative effort, even if his initial talks were enough to warm Minghao up a bit) helped build that bridge between them. In Seungkwan, who was brought into his friendship with Soonyoung with ease; in Hansol, who masked it well, too, but opened up when Seokmin prodded him to; and in Chan, who openly spoke to him one night about feeling out of place.
So when he found you outside one night, several days after you learned your name, he wasn’t surprised. Sure, you came out of your shell a little--in part because Chan took you on as his own companion, but Seokmin still saw it. The moments of uncertainty in your actions, more-so when you had to ask for help. He understood it. That was what he did: he understood the hard parts and tried his best to brighten them up so that everyone remembered they weren’t alone.
He stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching where you had sat down in the grass. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”
Your shoulders jerked as you whipped around to face him, and Seokmin could see where there were wet streaks down your cheeks. He understood that part, too. You wiped at your eyes roughly, apologizing without much of a second thought to it.
“I can leave if you need to be alone,” he said softly, but took a few steps forward just to crouch down next to you. “Do you want me to leave?”
He watched you think it over, lips pressing into a tight line before you shook your head. You scoot aside a little, giving him the space to sit down if he wanted to. “It’s okay,” you said. “I’m fine now.”
“Are you?” He sat down next to you, watching you carefully. “It’s okay to cry. We all know this is hard.”
“It shouldn’t be,” you hugged yourself. “It’s just...”
He said nothing. Seokmin just sat there, watching you take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. If you wanted to cry, though, he would let you. He just needed to know how to care for you if you did, even if that meant leaving you alone to let emotions run their course.
“It’s just hard.”
Seokmin looked ahead, watching tall wheat sway in the breeze. The moon was big and bright, and he wondered if he’d see another falling star. He remembered hearing about one the night of Chan’s celebration. Chan hadn’t shut up about it the entire morning they found you, after all, citing Seungcheol as being right there with him when he saw it. That felt special. Maybe Seokmin would witness something like that with you, if he were lucky. A little moment shared between the two of you might help make you feel more at home.
You reached up, wiping at your eyes again. “I feel like everyone’s just going to worry if I don’t act like I’m fine. I know it’s annoying having to teach me everything.”
“You’re learning,” he said. “Everyone learns differently. No one’s going to be upset with you for that.”
“I know.” You didn’t look at him, just staring straight ahead as you controlled your emotions as tightly as you could. “I don’t want anyone to worry about me any more than they already do.”
Seokmin just stared at you for a moment. He understood that part, too, a little too well. He just put on a smile instead, soft and understanding as he could make it. “It’s okay to be cared for,” he said. “We’re a family. We’re supposed to be here for each other. That includes you.”
He watched you shut your eyes, squeezing them tight, but the tension ease off of your shoulders a little.
He tore up pieces of grass. “But if it helps,” he said, letting them drop into the breeze. “You can come to me, and I won’t tell anyone unless you want me to.”
He could have cited Chan, or Seungcheol, or anyone else that you were probably closer to. Yet... Seokmin felt like he saw himself in you a little more than he saw in the others. Perhaps that was why he felt the need to be there for you. Right when he was about to apologize, to ask if he crossed a line with that, you relaxed a little and finally met his gaze.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said. “Thanks, Seokmin,” and you leaned forward, pressing a gentle peck against his cheek. “You’re sweet.”
He watched you stand up, stretching in place for a moment before making some remark about how you were going back to bed now. Mingyu was probably missing his cuddle partner. You asked if he was coming, and he waved you to go on ahead. He could use a moment to himself, too. He waited until you went back inside to finally let out a breath, burying his face in his hands for a moment. One little kiss on the cheek was enough to fluster him, definitely because he wasn’t sure you’d be that kind of person. His fingers brushed over where your lips had pressed earlier, and he smiled to himself.
Maybe the two of you would be good friends in the end, if you liked him enough to show that little display of affection in private. He was sure you’d do the same with someone like Chan, and he knew that Seungcheol would dote on you and give you tiny kisses on the top of your head when trying to comfort you (he’d seen Joshua do the same, to be honest). But he felt... a little special in getting your affection like this.
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A week later, you pressed a small note into Seokmin’s hand when you passed by him, pausing long enough to ask him what he was doing with Minghao. He pushed the note into his pocket (you lingered behind long enough to watch him do it) and met you gaze with an understanding nod before you trailed off after Jeonghan to go play some card game he’d been wanting to show you. All you gave him was a general time and place (after everyone went to sleep in the gardens), and when the time came, you pulled yourself out of Chan’s embrace. He pulled your little mouse plush into his chest, falling back asleep soon enough while you tiptoed around bodies until you finally left to wait in the gardens. You sat down underneath the peach trees, shivering slightly in the night’s breeze. Normally it was so warm, but maybe it was your mood that was making you feel a little colder. Wasn’t there some science there? You weren’t completely sure.
Soon enough, Seokmin emerged from the church and found you. He walked over, slowly sinking into the spot next to you.
“What’s wrong?” He finally asked a few minutes. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You just leaned into his side, shutting your eyes. A swell of guilt rose in your stomach over inviting him out just to vent your own frustrations. “I feel like I don’t belong here.”
Seokmin held back the urge to tell you that you did. That wasn’t what you needed right now, even if he did think that you belonged right there with them. “Why?”
A quiet inhale. A slow exhale. “I don’t remember anything.” You met his gaze a moment later. If it weren’t for the clear skies and the moon overhead, you wouldn’t be able to see his face. “I didn’t even remember my own name. It just feels... wrong.”
“It takes time,” he said. “Even if you never remember, it won’t change how we feel about you.” His hand brushed over your own. “You’re you. We like you.”
“But what about me?” You felt tears beginning to well up, and started trying to blink them back. “How can I like me if I don’t know who I am yet?”
Seokmin’s gaze softened tremendously at that, already reaching out to pull you closer. You folded into his arms without hesitation, eyes squeezing shut as you let go, tears spilling down your cheeks. He said nothing and just held you, slowly rubbing your back as you cried into his chest. Something in his chest ached at the thought of you being unable to love yourself. He hadn’t fully considered that aspect of it. Even with all the support around him, Seokmin could understand the feeling, too, of not being whole and trying to navigate that.
“I think... We have to love the parts of us we have,” he said quietly when your sobs grew softer. “And the people we’re becoming instead.”
You curled your hands into his shirt, fabric bunched between your fingers. “It’s just not fair--” You hiccuped, trying to bring yourself back down from your emotional high. “I just...”
Seokmin’s fingers grazed your shoulders for a moment as he brought you out of his chest, taking your face into his hands. He wiped away your tears. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s hard... but you can do it. We’ll love you no matter what,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t forget that. We’ll be right here with you.”
Seokmin felt something stir in his chest at that. A need to hold you, to just stay there with you. Was it the familiarity in you? In your words. Seokmin loved himself, that much was true. But loving something incomplete? The way a parent was meant to love their child? The way partners loved each other, or the way friends loved one another until the end point was reached? What was life if not a series of moments loving people who were still growing until you reached the end? His thumbs grazed your cheeks a moment longer before he let go of you, letting you move back into his arms to just stay there and be held. He understood that, too. Sometimes all he wanted was for the others to hold him for a moment, usually excused as him simply seeking skinship. The warmth of another person’s touch, their presence to remind you that they’re alive: how can someone live without it?
He thought about Seungcheol’s time alone sometimes. It flooded his nightmares, too, of a world where he was completely alone. Even his more recent dreams of being in a band with a few unfamiliar faces turned darker when they disappeared the moment he looked away. He’d wake up, sometimes with his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, and he’d remember he wasn’t alone. But even the thought of him being left alone terrified him most days. To not have Soonyoung to joke around with, or Minghao to sit with on lovely evenings, or fruit to share with Seungkwan... or you, right there in his arms because you trusted him to see the messy parts of you?
Seokmin wanted you to stay right there with him forever, just so he knew he’d have someone in his arms who could understand. He shut his eyes, letting you just hold onto him and snuggle into his chest.
A few more minutes, the two of you told yourselves. And then you’d go to bed after savoring that little moment of warmth a bit longer.
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“Mouse.”
You’d been kneeling in the dirt when Minghao approached you, his own work completed. He’d waved to Jun on his way over before tucking his hands back into his jacket. He stood in front of you for a moment, quiet and watching you. You had greeted him in turn, glancing back at the blackberries you’d been picking before watching him for a moment longer. It was evident that he wanted to say something to you, yet... He was hesitating.
“Is everything okay?” You asked after another moment of waiting. “You can talk to me, Hao. It’s okay.”
Minghao glanced back to where Jun was before he turned back to you. “Do you want some help?”
You looked back at the blackberry bush in front of you, and then to Minghao. “I think I’ve got it handled!” You smiled, “Thanks--”
He kneeled down anyway, not joining in on the work at all. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said outright, “so I think I should just... say it.”
You frowned. Minghao didn’t exactly get along with you the way others did, but you didn’t think he disliked you. For the most part, you just tried to be mindful of his boundaries. “Did I do something?”
Minghao’s gaze flickered back up to your face instead of his own hands where he’d been fiddling with the bracelet he wore--something Joshua had made, you thought. It looked like the beaded jewelry he made. “No!” He said, “No, I...” He took a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you... I think Seokmin carries a lot on his shoulders.”
You furrowed your brow. “Okay?”
“I know the two of you have been talking,” he said. “I... saw the two of you, I mean. I didn’t hear anything, but...”
“You don’t want me to talk to him?”
Minghao didn’t meet your gaze. “You should talk to him if it helps you. I just wanted you to care for him a little more than you care for the rest of us.”
With a glance at your basket of berries, you decided you’d picked enough. You pulled off your juice-stained gloves, setting them into your lap as you settled into the grass. “I don’t understand.”
He looked up after a long inhale. “Seokmin talks to us, but I think he doesn’t do it enough. I was just thinking that maybe... if he isn’t going to talk to us yet, then maybe he’d open up to someone new. Someone different from us.”
Different stood out a little too much to you. But you masked the slight tinge of pain it brought on. “I’ll try,” you promised.
“I know it’s a lot of responsibility,” he said. “I don’t know how to tell you I don’t... expect you to do it? I just want Seokmin to know he can talk to someone. He doesn’t have to hide his feelings.”
“Why haven’t you tried talking to him?”
He pressed his lips together. “I’ve tried,” he admitted, “a few times. We’ve talked a little, and it helped, just...”
“Not enough.”
On one hand, you didn’t understand what Minghao wanted from you. If Seokmin wasn’t going to tell people he was close to about the way he felt, why would he talk to you, someone who was still a stranger to him? Sure, Minghao said that you were “different” from them in some way, but... why you? What could Seokmin tell you that he wouldn’t tell someone like Minghao, or Soonyoung, or even Seungcheol? But on the other hand, you could maybe understand it a little. In a sense, you were a new perspective to certain things. From what you heard, Chan seemed to get the hang of things and fit in with relative ease pretty early on. You were still finding your footing, trying to get into the rhythm of things a little over a week after you came.
“You don’t have to do much,” Minghao said. “Just be there for him if he asks for you to be.”
That much you could do for anyone there. The moment you promised to try, you could practically see the stress roll off of Minghao’s shoulders. He shyly pressed a gentle peck against your cheek, the way others confidently did, and thanked you before returning to his own work. Your fingers grazed over where his lips had just been, and you smiled to yourself.
It was nice to know how much this family cared for one another.
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Out of everyone, you liked cooking with Seokmin the most. Maybe it was because of your blossoming feelings for him, but he was nice to stay around. He always asked you about your day and would gently correct you if he needed to, or he’d tell you a story from before you came. It was nice to hear about the way life was before Seungkwan and Hansol found you, or even before they found Chan... Just little stories there, most from that first month of Chan’s joining. Seokmin talked about the time they went swimming together once at that lake. They’d have to take you one day--maybe before your celebration when they all need the break from preparations.
“Seokmin?” You looked up. “Celebrations were your idea, right?”
He hummed in response. “Yes?”
“Why?” You paused for a moment, realizing how harsh that could come off, “I mean--It’s a nice idea. I really like it. I think it’s sweet how much you guys celebrate your time together. I was just thinking about it, that’s all.”
Seokmin’s actions slowed to a halt. “I think... We all deserve to be happy for once.”
“We’re happy without them, though, right?”
He hesitated for a moment, before giving you a curt nod. You could hear the sound of him beginning to chop again, knife hitting the cutting board with each slice. “Right. But before I came, it felt like everyone was more carefree about it. I think we should take the time to really appreciate what we have.”
You had continued working, nodding along as he spoke. “A home...”
“That, but... our family. The garden. We’re all here and we’re doing well,” he paused for a moment. “We’re surviving together. The others survived before we came here, too. And.. we joined,” he met your gaze a moment, “and we’re helping build this community, too.” His eyes were twinkling with joy. “I think that’s something we should celebrate.”
“Why a month?” You asked. “That’s what the others said: one, three, six, and then it was supposed to go by year.”
Seokmin grew a little flustered as he looked away from you. “I think it’s good to celebrate people deciding to stay and making the effort to live with each other. That’s all.”
You could see the appeal. All you did was nod once more, letting out a small hum of acknowledgement for the sentiment. Seokmin truly was sweet and probably one of the most openly caring people there.
“I think it’s important to feel special,” he said a moment later. “And to remember that you’re cared for.”
Again, you ended up pausing for a moment. That was sweet. Seokmin was sweet. You already knew you were starting to fall for him, for how kind he was, but that moment made you fall a little bit more. He thanked you for staying a moment later.
“Thank you for staying, too,” you said in return. “I’m glad you’re here, Seokmin.”
He couldn’t fight back the smile tugging at his lips, face warm and heart fluttering. He pressed another kiss against your forehead before he hugged you tight, thanking you for being a sweetheart. And maybe, just a little, he felt that feeling of needing to be close to you stir in his chest more.
When Seokmin fell asleep that night, he dreamed of fighting with something over something stupid. He remembered the fear of getting hit and backing down. It was familiar--like the silly fight he had with Mingyu once. But... different. The strangest sense of deja vu despite not recognizing the walls around him, the face of the person he was arguing with even though he swore he knew that person.
When he woke up, he saw your sleeping face across from his own. Soonyoung had curled up close to you again, face squished against your shoulder. You had a hand laid, palm-up in front of you as you peacefully slept. He reached up, cautious for a moment, but he gently placed his own over yours. He liked the way your hand seemed to perfectly fit in his own.
Maybe he already liked you. Seokmin was happy to admit that to himself. Maybe he’d tell you, too, sometime soon. When he was ready, he promised himself. 
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You had asked Seokmin if he wanted to go on a walk with you one night. While you had no woes to really spill for once (you felt fine, to be honest), you hoped that maybe he’d open up to you this time. If nothing else, you were happy to have him as company. You were always happy to have Seokmin right next to you. He’d been sticking closer to you, too, lately. You weren’t always great at gauging when people had feelings for you--especially in such an affectionate group that seemed to press kisses onto your skin and hold your hand and cuddle close whenever given the chance--but... Seokmin always had this look on his face when he looked at you. It was overflowing with affection, more-so than the way he looked at the others. He loved everyone: that you were positive of. But... something about how tender he would be with you, fingers intertwined with your own so often like it was something he was meant to do...
You had a pretty good feeling about Seokmin. If you were a little braver, you’d ask him outright how he felt. But that could come later.
He had held your hand that night, walking with you alongside the river. Neither of you were going to go too far from the church, but with the moon bright above, you felt no worries about losing your way. Seokmin’s warm hand, palm pressed against yours, only served to make you feel safer. You hoped he felt the same with you there.
“Did someone put you up to this?” He asked after a while.
You looked up. “What?”
“Not the walk,” he said. “I think that was you. But... I know the others worry,” he said. “Was it Minghao? Or Jeonghan? Or... maybe Soonyoung,” he said, voice growing a little quieter, “did someone ask you to watch over me?”
You grew flustered, realizing how easily he saw through you. “No one put me up to this--”
Seokmin stopped, stepping into your way. “It’s okay,” he said. “Like I said... I know the others worry. I promise I’m okay,” he said, pulling his hand free. He took your face into his hands, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I would tell you if I wasn’t.”
“Would you?”
He nodded, not offended by the slight disbelief in your voice. “It’s my job to help make everyone happy,” he told you. “That’s why I suggested the celebrations. We all struggle sometimes... so I’m here to help make it better.”
You frowned. “Seokmin...” You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. You pressed your palms against his own, his fingers following your own as you stretched yours. “Then who’s supposed to hold you through your hard times?”
“I can take care of myself,” he promised. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
That... stung. You trusted him. Did he not trust you? “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Would it help if I promised to come to you?” He drew your hand closer to his mouth, pressing his lips against your knuckles. “If I need you?”
You nodded. “It would.”
“Then I will.” Another kiss against your knuckles. “Can I hold you tonight?”
You frowned. “Seokmin...” You pouted. “Chan already asked, I feel really bad going back on it--”
He laughed. He wasn’t offended by a promise to cuddle with someone else--but you pouting over having to turn him down only endeared you more to him. “Tomorrow, then,” he said. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Should we head back? This was nice,” he slipped his hand into your own again, fingers intertwined. “We should do this more.”
“Go for walks?”
“Be together,” he smiled at you. “I like being with you.”
You hid a smile behind your free hand, and the sound of Seokmin’s laugh only made the heat travel back to your face. Even if the night was a failure at getting him to open up, you felt... more certain that Seokmin liked you the way liked him. Maybe something would blossom further between the two of you. If you could have more little dates with Seokmin like this (and something told you, by that cute look on his face, that he’d be the kind of person to follow you anywhere), you’d be happy. Maybe he’d open up to you further as you grew closer.
He let go of your hand when you came back to the church, not wanting anyone to catch either of you in what was beginning to feel more intimate. But you turned back to him before the two of you could head down to rejoin the others, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Maybe he’d kiss you soon. You made him want to even more.
He watched you trail a few steps ahead, Chan looking up from where he’d changed for bed and been in conversation with Seungkwan, smiling the moment he saw the two of you had returned. He opened his arms out, doing grabby hands for you to come over.
“Let me change, you dork!” You called out, and Seokmin only smiled as he watched you walk off.
Cute. He liked how much you seemed to fit into their family now. He’d end up curled up between Seungkwan and Soonyoung soon enough, but he honestly ached to hold you in his arms again. Something about holding you made him feel safe.
He dragged himself from bed, quietly leaving the room to get a glass of water. The sound of someone coming in pulled his attention away from the tap, and he felt water spill over his fingers as Seungcheol stood in the doorway.
“Is everything okay?” Seungcheol asked once he grew a little closer, leaning against the counter.
Seokmin nodded, wiping off the side alongside his wet fingers. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Seungcheol nodded, arms folded across his chest. “How’s Mouse?”
“They’re--” He paused, hesitating. He figured someone would have noticed the way you two would sneak away to talk at night--and it didn’t surprise him that Seungcheol either would have been told or noticed on his own. You had been struggling before, but he promised he wouldn’t tell Seungcheol without reason.
“They don’t know I’m talking to you,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me anything they trusted you with, Seokmin. But... is there anything the rest of us can do for either of you?”
Seokmin caught that, too outright for him not to. “I’m fine,” he insisted further. “I think they’re having a rough time. They’ll come to you when they’re ready.”
Seungcheol nodded, busying himself with straightening up. “What about you?” 
“Cheol,” Seokmin frowned. “I promise I’m okay.”
Seungcheol looked up. “You can always talk to us,” he said again. “I just wanted you to know that--”
“I know you worry,” he said. “I appreciate the concern. I promise I’ll come to you if I need you.”
Seungcheol drifted a step back. “Okay,” he said. “Sleep well. You know we’re here for both of you.”
Seokmin thanked him as Seungcheol began to head back to bed, and he called out a goodnight to him before he left completely. He sighed, feeling as though his mask was slipping a little too much nowadays. He had heard Seungkwan venting frustrations to Hansol the other night, talking about how much of his previous life felt like it was right there at the tip of his tongue. He heard Soonyoung swear that Jihoon’s songs reminded him of something. That Jihoon was getting frustrated again, because now he was struggling to write lyrics in general--and even though he never managed to finish those songs, something blocking out any inspiration to do so, it was... more frustrating this time.
Seokmin decided he would be the sunshine they all needed to clear away the rainy feelings. He could deal with his own feelings later. But when he went back to bed, to curl up next to Seungkwan and Soonyoung again, he looked back at your sleeping form. Chan’s arms were wrapped around you, your back pressed against his chest so he could bury your face in his shoulder. Mingyu was on the other side of you, holding your hand. That little stuffed mouse you slept with was nestled close to you, too.
Maybe Seokmin could tell you, first. You’d been open enough with him. Maybe it was his turn to open up.
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There was a little pressure to do things well whenever Seungcheol was working with you. Most of the time, you realized it wasn’t necessary. While he would check in with whoever was on the same chore as him, he wasn’t going to hover over your shoulder and chastise. Sometimes he’d catch mistakes, but they were always met with a firm correction and an explanation on what you were doing wrong if you needed it. But most days, he’d go off and work on harvesting his own things, or he’d focus on his own share of the laundry. He was a leader, yes, but he still had to complete his own share of the chores every day.
Yet he stayed close to you that day, watching the way you were pruning plants the way he taught you. Just to observe, he told you. Yet he stayed kneeled nearby, picking his own share of fruit from those bushes while you dropped yours into the basket between the two of you. Sometimes clipping away at the dead leaves that had shriveled up enough that you could safely remove them. Seungcheol watched on with the slight sense of pride in his eyes that you had listened well.
After the longest time of not talking, save for the occasional note of praise, he spoke up again: “Is everything okay?”
You said nothing, caught off-guard by the sudden question. Did Seokmin say something...? Had you said something worrisome by accident? You weren’t sure. You hadn’t had any problems lately, after all. Was that what worried Seokmin...?
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me about it,” he continued on after a moment, not looking up from his own gardening. “But you should know you can always come to me if you need to.”
You nodded. “Right. Thank you, Seungcheol.”
He frowned immediately at that, looking over at you with a pout. “Cheol,” he corrected you, only slightly whiny as he did so. “Don’t call me Seungcheol...”
You almost laughed at how cute he could be sometimes. Despite being the leader of this rag-tag bunch, he still had his moments where the “strong, responsible” leader melted away and revealed him to be someone stubborn and sweet. You hadn’t seen it during your first week there, and you assumed it was because he was still in his “leader” mode to make sure you were comfortable with your new surroundings. But he wrapped his arms around you two separate times before, complaining about how the others (Seungkwan, once, and another time it had been Chan) wouldn’t tell him that they loved him back. He had smiled, teasingly asking if you’d say it back.
You had laughed a little, but you told him both times that you loved him. He giggled, pressing a kiss to your temple before saying that you were his new favorite. It was sweet. You were glad to have someone like Seungcheol guiding the group.
“Sorry, Cheol,” you said, trying not to laugh at how he was still sulking over your slip-up. “I guess I have a lot on my mind.”
He nodded. “Are you talking to someone here...?”
Shit, would it offend him that you only talked to Seokmin...? “Sometimes Seokmin and I talk,” you confessed. “Is that okay?”
“As long as you have someone you’re comfortable talking to, I’m happy.” He stopped in his work, looking up to meet your gaze. “I know it’s still hard, but we’re all here for you whenever you feel ready to open up.”
You didn’t think before you started to speak. “It’s hard to open up when it feels like no one else wants to.” You tore your gaze away from his, going back into your work. “I mean... Sometimes Seungkwan will talk about his feelings, and so do a few others, but it feels like we’re all still holding everything close to our chests. I know you want us to be open and honest with each other, Cheol, but I think it’ll take more than just telling people we have the space to do so. We’re fourteen people,” you dropped a berry into the basket, and then plucked a dried-up leaf that’d fallen in. “It’s hard to bring up things without feeling out of place,” you tossed it away. “Like we’re intruding. Vulnerability is hard.”
Seungcheol watched you carefully. “Is there a way we can help with that?”
You swallowed the doubt you felt. Hopefully you didn’t cross a line. “Maybe you should lead by example, Cheol,” you finally looked back up to watch him. He was serious now, taking in every word you were saying. So you continued on, “I think we all look up to you. If you talked about what’s on your mind... Maybe it’d help all of us feel more comfortable, too.”
He nodded, letting the words sink in. He reached out, bringing you in to press a kiss against your temple. “I’ll try,” he said, although it felt... too quiet. Too light, too airy. Like it was a lie in its most obvious form, but surely Seungcheol wouldn’t lie so obviously to your face. “If you think that’ll help...”
“I do,” you insisted. “I think he looks up to you a lot. Maybe it could... inspire people, I guess.”
Seungcheol watched you for a moment longer, just studying the way you gazed off into the distance. He knew. “You’re worried about someone.”
“Huh?”
“It’s okay,” he said, voice soft. “But... Mouse?” He smiled, “Promise me you’ll pursue what makes you happy.”
You blinked in confusion, and then once more. “What do you mean?”
Seungcheol didn’t answer you, giving you a gentle pat on the head as he stood up. You could already hear the sound of someone--two people, actually--running through the trees. You looked up to see Seokmin and Soonyoung standing there, smiling and out of breath as they caught sight of you.
The two greeted him casually enough, and then Soonyoung looked at you. “When you’re done, you should come join us--”
“They’re done,” Seungcheol said, casual as can be. You immediately looked toward him, fully aware you had more work to do. “I can carry these inside, Mouse,” Seungcheol told you. He nodded for you to go on, to join the others, and you said nothing.
Soonyoung looked from you to Seungcheol, not oblivious to the fact that you were clearly not finished. But Seokmin held a hand out to you, happy to help you to your feet before he started helping you dust yourself off. He was already explaining the card game he wanted to play with you and Soonyoung, and Soonyoung took one look at Seokmin before it clicked. He met Seungcheol’s eyes, and the leader merely smiled at him and nodded toward the direction of the church.
The three of you headed back toward the church, and Seungcheol noticed the way Seokmin tightly held your hand in his own. He looked back at where you had abandoned your work, and sighed. He shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t take over for you--at least not make a habit of it--but... What was one more day of picking up the slack if it meant you could be happy? He saw the way you lit up when you saw Seokmin had come to find you. If you smiled at him that way...
Seungcheol sighed once more, and smiled to himself. He hoped you’d take his words to heart in the end. Even when he was carrying both your and his parts of the day’s harvest, he could hear the way your laugh carried down from the attic. You were calling Soonyoung a cheater, and trying to get Seokmin (who was laughing, too) onto your side.
He wondered when you’d realize that Seokmin was already right there, and that he’d likely stay right there if you’d let him.
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Seungcheol was the first to confess a few days later that he worried about his leadership being enough. He spoke up in the middle of dinner, surprising most of you aside from Jeonghan and Joshua--who seemed to be fully aware of this in advance. Everyone fell in to support him, praising him or giving him critique about how he can do better if he truly felt that he needed it. It led Jihoon to admit he was worried about his own talent. About whether he was chasing something empty by writing so many songs, even though he’d never finish a single one. He felt like he was getting a part of himself back.
Soonyoung understood the feeling. Sometimes when he danced, it felt like he was closer to something. Chan could understand the feeling--as did Jun and Minghao. Hansol could, too, when he worked on his own lyrics.
All Seokmin did was provide support throughout all of it. Not everyone shared something they’d been holding to their chest (Joshua said nothing, and neither did Mingyu or Chan aside from any feelings they could understand), so it didn’t feel obvious that Seokmin was holding something back. But he met your gaze soon enough when you admitted to feeling... incomplete.
“It’s hard to love someone incomplete,” you said. “But I think I understand how other people do it. I just need to learn how to love myself again, I think.”
People loved and supported you in that, just as Seokmin knew they would. Yet...
He wanted to say something. The words were lost in his throat, letters bundled up tight and staying lodged there no matter how he tried to word them. Maybe another night, he told himself. Tonight was everyone else’s night, perhaps. Seokmin didn’t need to add too heavily to it.
Another night, he promised himself. When he was ready.
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A few nights later, Seokmin sat with his back against the wall of the church, legs tucked up close to himself. Most nights, it was easy for him to go on a walk to clear his head and cope with the feelings building up. That nasty, bitter taste of not being enough. He made others happy, sure, but what about himself? Seokmin was happy. He loved being there with everyone, with you, but he understood your own plights too well. The desire to remember more, no matter what pain it might bring. Forgetting could be seen as a blessing, especially if the world had ended and left you fourteen behind. Not remembering his mother’s smile or babies he used to make laugh, his school teachers growing up... That would be a blessing, wouldn’t it? Yet he yearned to have part of himself back. Perhaps some might call it selfish, especially if this was it, but he wanted to know.
He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath, and let himself rest a little. To let that happy air down, to make way for a pensive moment just for himself. Yet he heard footsteps, and the quiet groan of someone pulling themself up into the church. The fabric was folded back.
“Seokmin?” You called out to him. Of course it was you. The one person he felt like saw through him and called him on it too often now. You had told him that he could be vulnerable with you: he let you be vulnerable, after all.
“Mouse.” He looked up, forcing a wavering smile as he saw you. This was not how his night was supposed to go, yet he felt the exhaustion build up too high. His walls too short to prevent the onslaught of emotions that were rising further and further inside him. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?”
His smile wavered a little more, the corners of his mouth twitching. Even without his answer, you started making your way over to him, and all he could do was raise up a hand to try and stop you. “I’ll be fine--”
You kneeled before him, and opened up your arms. “C’mere.”
And that was all he needed. He felt his breath catch in his throat, and he immediately dove into your arms and held on tight as he felt the tears well up as words started spilling from his mouth about everything he felt he needed to swallow and keep to himself. His job was to help take care of everyone, to make things happy. That was why he suggested the celebrations. Yet before you, he was reduced down to a whimpering man whose hot tears were staining your shirt as his emotions reached their crest and crashed over his walls. You rubbed circles onto his back, letting him cry as he needed to.
Seokmin wasn’t a man afraid to cry, and you knew that. But when was the last time he let himself truly break down and let everything go? He couldn’t remember.
“It’s hard,” he soon said, voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt. “It’s so hard sometimes...”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Your voice was gentle, no anger or accusations of him hiding things. Just the desire to understand.
His fingers bunched up the fabric of your shirt into his palms, eyes squeezing shut. “Everyone had enough to deal with,” he admitted, breathing evening out. “You had enough to deal with, too. I didn’t want to add to that.”
“Seokmin...” He watched you frown as he drew away from you, his hands resting at your waist. You were so warm and real underneath his fingers. If he let go, would you stay there? Would you disappear into stardust or light, like a lost memory? He liked knowing you were real and right there with him. “It’s okay to struggle,” you finally said, hands covering his own. “You don’t have to struggle alone. We’re all here.” You squeezed his hands. “And I’ll always be here, too, if you aren’t ready to tell the others yet. Or you can talk to Minghao, or Jeonghan, or... or anyone. You don’t have to talk to all of us. But we’re here,” you took his face into your hands, “and we love you, and we want to support you. You just have to let us in.”
He watched you, gaze flickering to your lips for only a moment. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you that he’d fallen for you. Not tonight, he told himself. The time to tell you was later, during a good day. He didn’t want you to think he was confessing because he was upset and not thinking straight. You deserved to know just how much he’d grown to love you.
His lip quivered, though, and he felt the warmth of being loved rise in his chest. He squeezed your hips again, and shut his eyes as you leaned in, lips grazing his forehead.
“We’re right here,” you promised. “All you have to do is ask.”
He loved you. It was all he could think about: he loved you with everything he had. He knew that was the kind of person he was. “I know,” he breathed. “It’s just... hard. Everyone’s hurting,” he said quietly. “It’s hard to take care of yourself when others’ have worse problems.”
“I know.” You sank down a little further to be on eye level with him. “But it’s okay to admit you’re hurting, too. It’s not a competition.”
He nodded. Despite the ache in his chest, the pain of being vulnerable that peeked through the warm love he carried for you, he could feel other thoughts clouding his mind. The desire to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you and be vulnerable in a different way. “Thank you for being here,” he said instead. I love you. Please don’t leave me alone. “Can you cuddle with me tonight?”
Seokmin watched the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. “Of course,” you had said, “If that’s what you want. I’m happy to be here for you.”
He held you tight in his arms that night, as if you’d disappear if he let you go. Despite confusing dreams of tired nights and days with hot, heavy lights pointed at him (maybe his thought that he was an actor in his past life wasn’t too far off, after all), you served to be his guiding light. The person who made him feel complete as he was, like life was crystal clear when you were around. He missed so many things about himself, yet those feelings seemed bearable when you were right there with him. He woke up when Minghao curled up close to him, an arm draped around him as a reminder that he wasn’t alone. That everyone in that room loved him.
If he was the sun, then you were the moon: reflecting the light back to him and reminding him that he wasn’t the only star in the sky.
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Being vulnerable with you was hard in itself. But he spoke up days later, fully admitting to the others during dinner that he felt.. lesser. Like he had to make up for everything by carrying the burdens of everyone else. It was met with genuine care and conversation in return. No moments of making him feel like his feelings were wrong, like he shouldn’t feel like that.
“You’ve brought us all a lot of joy and comfort,” Seungcheol told him gently. “We want to be here for you, too.”
Everyone agreed. Even you, who pretended that you hadn’t heard any of this before, gave him a reassuring smile. He whispered to you to meet him in the attic half an hour after the group dispersed, before he disappeared to talk with a few others a little more. The full group had listened and validated him, yet Seungkwan had asked him to sit with him and a few others a little while longer. They, too, felt the guilt of wanting to remember despite knowing that forgetting could have been a blessing.
“I think being honest is hard,” he admitted to them. Hansol had nodded along as Seokmin continued, “but I think I need to start being completely open from now on. Even when it’s hard.”
Soonyoung knew. “Then you should go wait for them,” he hugged his knees close to him. “Right? That’s what you wanted to do.”
Seokmin hesitated. “I don’t want it to seem like I’m running away from you all--”
“You don’t,” Hansol said. “Go confess or whatever,” he smiled. “We’ll all be here for you whenever you want to talk more, alright?”
He was thankful for people who understood. Seokmin returned to the church, climbing up into that sun room. You hadn’t come up, thankfully, giving him time to think about what he wanted to say it. Should he even say it? He didn’t want to waste time anymore. He needed you to know how he felt. If he waited, he’d back down and make up excuses for a “better time” in a world where they never knew what day would be their last.
So he had to do this. He had to tell you.
He could hear the ladder buckle slightly, the sound of you making your way up it. Soon enough, you peeked over the top, and then climbed in to face him. His name was already on your lips when he turned to face you, back to that sun-window that was painting the room in orange hues from the dying light of day.
“I love you.” He watched your eyes widen in surprise, and steeled his nerves. “You make me feel confident in myself. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I would have decided to open up like this to the others. And I know it’s sudden, but I wanted to tell you that I love you.”
“I... love you, too?” You paused. “Seokmin--”
“Not in that way,” he said. He knew he’d said it before to everyone. He’d heard you say it, too. “I’m in love with you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” he curled his fingers into his palm. Stay strong. Tell them outright. “I just wanted you to know that I love you and I’m glad you stayed. I... I don’t think my world would be the same without you. Thank you for being you.”
You took a slow step toward him, and then another. “Seokmin, I...”
His chest ached at a lack of response. Maybe it was foolish, but he needed to tell you. If he didn’t, he felt like holding that feeling in forever would kill him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I understand--”
And then you kissed him, closing that distance too quick for him to process. His hands fell to your hips, holding you against him as he kissed you back. He shut his eyes, savoring the warm feeling of your body against him. Yet you pressed a little harder against him, and he staggered back, almost falling onto that bed as he steadied you. You drew back, barely getting a chance to apologize before he pulled you back in for another kiss.
You drew away fully soon enough. “I love you, too, by the way,” you smiled at him. “Thank you for being my sunshine.”
He felt his face heat up. “Can I... kiss you again?” He almost felt bad for not asking before, but you had stolen the first kiss. Was it a crime to steal one in return?
He’d steal as many kisses from you as he could, in the end. He didn’t have to convince you to stay with him up there for the night, just so he could hold you close without anyone else intruding. Other nights he could sleep with you close and someone else nearby, because Seokmin was more than okay with still cuddling with the others (he was a touchy person, after all). He just wanted to fall asleep with you next to him for once, and maybe again in the future when he wanted to steal you away for alone time. Your head rested on his shoulder, arm draped across his chest as he held you close.
“Are you still awake?” His voice was quiet in the calm of the night, and he felt you stir a little next to him. He almost wanted to call your name to ask again, but you yawned and settled back in next to him. “Thank you for being my night.”
He could feel you smile against his chest. If you’d be the calm night to end the day, he’d be your morning sunshine from now on.
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