#but the first act had me basically blue screening and trying not to cry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

titan-fodder · 4 years ago

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Prima Vista Part III

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Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so.

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored.

He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status.

Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy.

He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

“What do you mean?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

“Are you calling him a predator?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

“A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

“Even him perving on you?”

“Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do.

“A little.”

You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

“Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.”

You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

“Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

“Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

“It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

“That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

“Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?"

All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

Fuck yes. Half the battle is won.

“Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

You snort. “Try again.”

“Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

“Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

“I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

“Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

“Holy shit.”

Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

“I guess.”

This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable.

These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group.

It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands.

“Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped."

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.

Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

“Ah, of course he did.”

Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks.

“Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.

“Glad to hear it.”

The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit.

“You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

“Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

“That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

“Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before.

It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game.

You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom.

“You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

“It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

“Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience.

He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire.

You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick.

“Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs.

“Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

“Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

He chuckles, “You know it.”

Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head.

“You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

“I have a refractory period, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower.

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality.

The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well.

But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

“I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time.

He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

“So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

“I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him.

You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time.

“No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things.

Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips.

“We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible.

It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

“Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning.

Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall.

“Is Erwin here?” You ask.

Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before.

“Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“You know which one it is?”

Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

“Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

“Studying?” You question.

“Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did).

“Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move.

“So, what’s going on?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks.

“You need to make up with Mike.”

Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

“Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

“Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

“Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he smirks.

You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

“So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds.

You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil.

In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls.

Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did.

“You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate.

Are you calling him a predator?

He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea.

“You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

“Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response.

But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

And, so you do.

"Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

"So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.

"I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

"I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

"Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick.

"You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up.

"No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare.

And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike.

Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?"

"Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours.

Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you.

Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

"No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

"Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?"

"I… I don't know. You just—"

"Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

"Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic.

"Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt.

"Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

"Yeah, okay," he nods.

You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess.

Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from.

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him.

"What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows.

"Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to.

Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike.

Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

And, of course, Mike is too smart for that.

"Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

"I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night.

Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?"

The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin.

Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to.

Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out.

"I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him.

He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college.

The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this.

"Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him.

You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing.

"Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks."

"What're your plans?"

You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek.

When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort.

And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

"Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

"Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind.

Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them.

"I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

"Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

"And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

"I'll think about it," you stop him.

Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes.

Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'.

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch.

It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs.

You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object.

It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones.

Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint.

You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to.

Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog.

A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired.

The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family.

He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money.

Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park.

You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep.

The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.

"What in the world…"

Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house.

It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food.

"Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion.

Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt.

"Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!"

She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest.

Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic.

What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you?

It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

"Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

"Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

"I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

"Obviously not."

He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time).

"I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days."

"I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

“Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

“And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.”

You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him.

"Yeah."

It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead.

"Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

And, she's hugging you again.

"I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say.

"Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear.

"So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

"It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life."

Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

"Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off.

Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later.

Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something.

The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day.

When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father.

"Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?"

"Dad!"

Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

"Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

"Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier.

All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

"Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle.

Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches.

You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

He grunts. "That makes one of us."

Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy.

You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?"

Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins.

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school.

"Look how cute you are with braces!"

"Please stop."

"All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?"

"Mom made me."

"You were so skinny. What happened?"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap.

It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his.

He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you.

Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream.

You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders.

You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh.

He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more.

So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day.

"She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

"Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were."

"What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous.

Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

"We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

"Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?"

"That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

"We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

"So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?"

"Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader #mels prima vista

244 notes · View notes

brittledame · 4 years ago

Text

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori, Yamagata Hayato, Reon Oohira, Semi Eita, Shirabu Kenjirou, Kawanishi Taichi, Goshiki Tsutomu

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags: SFW, gender neutral reader, first date nerves, fluff, ages not specified

Notes: I did this instead of working on the other projects bc I wanted some fluff and here it is!

Ushijima:

On a visit with his grandmother is when he’s told about a local pottery masterclass happening the following weekend, piquing his interest

After some research, he comes to learnt that pottery is the perfect relaxing hobby with the added benefit of fine tuning his dexterity

It didn’t take much else to convince him to go

It was only after talking to a friend that he realises he should probably invite someone to tag along

After his grandmother politely declines, he follows her coy suggestion of inviting someone he likes

He invites you seemingly out of the blue

You’ve known him for a great deal of time and done some activities with him that could be construed as “romantic” and only started dating when Ushijima stated your relationship status to his team nearly a month ago

The look on your face when you found out at the exact moment as his team was priceless

After that, Ushijima left your relationship status on no uncertain terms and practically broadcasted it in his own unique way

This pottery class serves as another way to spend more time with you

After a few minutes of the pottery teacher painstakingly going through the motions to make a basic pot, a whirring noise followed by wet splattering steals your attention away from the clump of clay that is slowly taking form.

You glance over to find Ushijima looking at you, nonplussed at the mess of what was his pot now decorating his mock and forearms, his face is not left unmarked with the few splotches painting his cheek

You gape at him as he blinks as if coming out of a daze and looks down at the poor clump of clay and murmurs a small, “Oh.”

You didn’t mean to laugh, not really, but the utter surprise in his tone topped you over

After a mild scolding from the teacher and a new clump of clay, the two of you were good to go once again

The both of you took longer than most of the class, you with fussing about the tiny bumps you just couldn’t seem to smooth out and Ushijima with his second try

The class seemed to have unlocked his innate mastery of the ancient craft, as the pot looked near store-quality, you note with an ounce of envy

The group takes a break over some snacks and drinks as the pots are loaded into the kiln

Ushijima meticulously picks through the various glazes they had to offer, seeking your assistance after you picked your own out

You suggest the purple as homage to Shiratorizawa, where you two met, and the dark-rich brown, claiming it reminded you of his eyes

He considers you for a moment, a long enough pause for you to think over your words and begin to regret them before he nods decidedly and proudly presents the glazes he picked to the lady

With the class wrapping up, the lady running the class pops up as you two inspect your creations.

“Do you mind if I take a picture to post on our social media?”

Ushijima shakes his head as you answer, “We don’t mind.”

She flashes a wide smile and aims her phone in your direction. “Great! Say ‘pottery’.”

On cue you plaster on smile and brandish the clay creation as the camera clicks.

The lady, who is somehow even more dirtied than Ushijima, inspects the picture.

“You two are so cute together!” She fawns over the two of you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your date together.”

She disappears before either of you can correct her.

You blurt out, "Is this a date?"

A pause. Then a hum, "I suppose it is."

A shared smile, you leave the studio with linked hands.

When you get home, you prowl through the studio’s page and find the picture and break out into gut-clutching laughter at the almost-pained looking smile Ushijima makes, tiny pot perched in his large hands adding a comedic effect.

After you recover, you end up saving it and making it your screen saver.

Tendou:

For all his casual confidence, you’re the one to ask him out and he’s the one to officially declare it the “big” first date

The plan was to go manga/book shopping and eat at the in-store cafe

It sounded like a pretty cut-and-dry standard date but with Tendou anything can turn into an adventure

Ecstatic is an understatement on how excited Tendou was for the weekend

He was nearly berated a dozen times for not paying enough attention to what he was doing and almost caused a small fire at one stage

You didn’t fare much better, either

The pair of you got a great deal of laughter from relaying it to one another in the late night hours before meeting up

Although underneath it all lurked the residual anxiety he tried to fight away, so he reminds you during the call, just to check that you didn’t regret inviting him out

As much as he despised the thought, the dark voice whispering at him that you would stand him up were quickly silenced when you show up with a bright smile and his name on your lips

Tendou reckons it’s the sweetest noise he’s ever heard, right after your laughter that he coaxes out with the little melodies he sings to himself as the two of you make way to the popular bookstore

After arriving, you wonder apart to check out separate sections and end up meeting at again the in-store café with books in hand

Over the chocolate cake slice Tendou brought to share, you take turns to gush over the selected choices spread across the tabletop

“I mean it isn’t that over done.” You argue, popping another forkful of the overly-sweet cake into your mouth.

Tendou throws his hands into the air. “Are you serious? Hero meets bad guy, then they fight a whole bunch, bad guy kills a bunch of people and the hero never kills the guy because he ‘doesn’t want to stoop to their level’,” You don’t mask your laughter at the overexaggerated deep voice Tendou imitates. “It’s not fair to the people that the bad guy goes to hurt later on.”

“Oh, I entirely agree with you there.” You take a moment to wonder how Tendou has eaten nearly half the thing to himself already, you’ve barely been seated for longer than a few minutes. “When done wrong, the whole ‘taking the high ground’ troupe is really tacky.”

Tendou blinks at you like he didn’t expect you to respond. You raise a brow at him as a toothy grin spreads over his face, a slight pink painted across his pale cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like talking to someone that knows their stuff, is all. Don’t get me wrong, miracle boy is great company, but I can only try to convince him to read more than the ads they run for so long before I go insane.” He chuckles under his breath, words heartfelt enough that a matching heat spreads across your cheeks.

“I enjoy this too.”

A wide grin overtakes his face at your admittance.

“Well then, let’s not stop!” He offers, stretching his hand towards yours. You clasp it, feeling delicate against his larger one. “I still have to tell you about the whole ‘boy is given power he doesn’t know how to control and needs to find a grumpy mentor’ troupe next!”

You squeeze his hand. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on that one.”

Tendou clicks his tongue and wags his finger at you. “It’s not necessarily about my thoughts, it’s the conspiracy I think the troupe ties into.”

The seriousness in his tone made you pause, looks like you were in for a long one.

Amongst him linking the heroes journey and the innate desire for power over others, you marvel at the way his whole body comes alive when talking about something he loves.

It’s much later on, when he’s introducing you to his friends at a reunion, that you notice the bubbly and animated way he presents you to his friends, love evident in each and every word.

Semi:

Now you would think he’d be the calm and collected one after knowing each other for half a decade and dating for a month

Nope.

He's the type to plan to ask you at the perfect time, and will be in a pissy mood if he misses the "perfect" opportunity to ask

When he does finally pose the question, you’ll say yes and he’s ecstatic

Though, he will play it cool and be like, "Ok I'll text you the details later." And flash you the biggest smile that has you melting inside just a little

When he's trying to sleep that night it finally hits him

Oh shit he has to plan a date with the girl he’s been hopelessly pining for

After one text from you confirming you don’t mind where he picks, he’s both relieved and more stressed because now he has to analyse every little thing he knows about you and eventually starts doubting himself

In the end, he decides to play it safe and go with the popular, family owned cafe that plays live music Saturday afternoons

It was perfect, the music act would be quiet enough to still talk if you two wanted or serve as a mediator to break any awkward silence should it pop up

It is honestly the perfect date, in his mind

Comes the day and he swings around your place after agreeing to walk to the café together

The walk is characterised with the brisk autumn wind and catching each other up on what’s been going on during the week

The conversation doesn’t stop from there – something Semi could cry happily over

After ordering and grabbing a seat close to a stage set-up to the side, you note how bright and talkative Semi is and vow to yourself to see this more often

As he takes a sip in the middle of explaining the difference pick positions affects plucking sounds, you comment on his excitement

Even with the flush on his cheeks, he holds a suave facade and merely says that it’s hard to unwind when his friends can be so chaotic when they get together

From there he starts opening up and imparting little facts about himself that you commit to memory

You come to learn that his favourite colour was corn-silk yellow before he went to Shiratorizawa, now it’s royal purple. He loves tekka maki and boasts his mum’s hand-made ones to be the best in the world and offers to share it with you next time she makes them

All of these things slot into what you know about Semi, filed alongside the nuance’s you’ve noticed yourself.

When he’s unsure or embarrassed, he tousles his hair. And when he talks about something he’s passionate with, his hands start gesturing all about the place

You could’ve spent the whole afternoon like that, in the intimately-lit café, hidden amongst the dull chatter of the surrounding patrons, just listening to Semi’s soothing timbre

But life had other plans

The lights on the stage brighten as someone wearing comfortable clothes strolls on and perches up on the stool set-up in front of a lone microphone. She didn’t give off any signs of discomfort at being stared at as she sets up her guitar, giving a few testing strums before introducing herself and launching into her music.

It was only then that conversation broke and ushered in a lilting voice floating on gentle notes.

“They’re amazing.” You breath, eyes not leaving the stage until the musician dismounts from the stage.

“That’s what I want to do one day.”

You turn to him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” The corner of Semi’s lips quirk up a bit, a secret shared unto himself.

“Why?”

Genuine curiosity spurs you to ask, to know. While you could picture Semi perched on the same stool with a guitar all too easy, you never really thought Semi would pursue a career in the industry.

Semi finally turns to you, a fire in his eyes that was normally caused by volleyball and a good challenge. “I want to make people happy and sad - all the emotions really. I want someone to look at me like you did to that girl.”

Tilting your head you say, “Looking at her like what?”

Semi audible swallows. “Like someone that loves the music I make.”

Reaching over the table, you run your thumb over the backs of his knuckles, a comforting gesture. “Semi, I already love talking to you and hanging out, so why wouldn’t I like the music you write?”

The resultant blush on Semi’s face was answer enough to that, even though he tries to hide it behind his cup.

After that, meeting up at the café ends up becoming a weekly occurrence, an oasis that you both look forward to in the midst of life’s chaos.

Yamagata:

Yamagata actually is the smoothest out of them all

After a two weeks of dating, he bounces up to you after a particularly hard day and offers to take you somewhere fun the next day

Your definition of ‘fun’ varies from his, as you soon find out

Where Yamagata believes the best way to get to know someone and have fun simultaneously is putting them through challenges, whereas you believe sitting down and chatting to be the most optimal method

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, the paint ball range is closed

Amusement park it is

He leaves it as a surprise and doesn’t tell you until you question the sign of the park he visited frequently as a kid

Overall, you have an absolute ball with him, never a dull moment

Especially after the ferris wheel when Hayato goes to reach for his phone to check the time and finds it missing

The only reason he had it out in the plastic swinging booth was to take a sneaky picture of you looking carefree and relaxed as you gazed down at the park – not that he admitted to that when you asked just how it escaped his pocket

Obviously, it was a very slippery phone since this was the third time this week alone he lost it

After tracking it down with the help of the kind but tired ride operator, the two of you were on your merry way to the next ride, but not without a few light-hearted digs at Yamagata’s forgetfulness

You get to learn a lot about each other personally while waiting in line and over lunch after recovering

At the end of the day, your cheeks ache from much smiled

“I don’t remember it being that crazy as a kid.” Yamagata says, looking pale and breathing shallowly, as if to keep himself from being sick.

You couldn’t blame him, the rollercoaster he convinced you to go on under the guise of “This was my favourite one as a kid! You wouldn’t deny a man from reliving his childhood, would you?”

And like a fool you caved under the pout like a badly cooked soufflé. Now you wished you put up a bit of a fight against going on it. The screams of the riders before you were not exaggerated in the slightest.

“I don’t know how they allow kids on that.” Is all you supply, feeling a little green as well.

Yamagata directs you to the nearest bench and you follow his lead and slump into the seat.

“I don’t know how I forgot how much that thing threw me around. I must’ve just about fell off as a tiny kid. Remind me to thank my dad for coming on with me.”

You try not to laugh at the image of a tiny Yamagata ecstatically cheering as the ride swings around corners at full speed as his dad frantically tries to keep his clueless son from getting tossed out of the cart.

“Your dad is a brave man to go on that thing wilfully.”

Yamagata grimaces. “Brave is a nice way of putting it. I’d call it being insane to put up with me wanting to ride it eight times over.”

This time you do laugh.

“It must be hard saying no to your own kid, though, so cut him some slack.” You joke, knocking your elbow against his side.

He playfully pushes you away, widely grinning once again. The heat from the sun blaring ahead suddenly floods into your cheeks. The sensation of your heart feeling too large for your ribcage seizes you.

And the feeling doesn’t leave, it sticks with you as he laughs, as he drops his ice cream and pouts like a child. It intensifies as a dreamy look enters his eyes as he recalls a fond memory associated with a ride.

You hope that one day that he makes the same expression when he recalls this day spent with you.

Reon:

For some reason, Reon seems like the kind of guy to be inherently talented with gardening

He’s the resident green thumb alongside Ushijima, people pass their dying plants into Reon’s hands for magical resurrection

So it was a no-brainer for him to take you to the local botanical gardens

Rife with both native and exotic flora, there were many scenic walks available, thus was the perfect place for a first date to Reon

Reon meets you at the gates with a soft greeting and an outstretched hand – you two walk through the park with your hand intertwined like that for the rest of the day

Throughout the walk, he points out flowers and gives you their common name and their meanings, along with the meanings he gave them as a kid

It was entirely too cute for your poor heart

“And those are yellow carnation.” He points to a patch of bright yellow flowers with soft-looking ruffled petals. “They represent dislike and disappointment towards the person you give them to, but as a kid I thought they meant that she was my sunshine because of the colour. My mum got quite the kick out of it when I gave them to her for her birthday.”

You burst into laughter, unable to smother it even with Reon’s apparent embarrassment at the event

If your allergies start to play up too badly, Reon will take you to his favourite part, a densely packed section of the gardens filled with trees, concealing a secluded tiny red bridge stretched across a large koi pond with the largest and most colourful koi you’ve seen

Everything within you wanted to stretch this moment out, you could easily live in this moment forever. The buzzing of cicadas in the distance, the grass blades tickling the palms of your hands from where you sat, the soothing rumble of Reon’s voice – this is your personal slice Elysian peace

You did not want to give this up

It’s there that he finally unlinks your hands and brings out the packed lunch he made.

“You made all this?” You gape, taking in the diverse range of food he brought out of his bag.

From seared fish placed neatly atop seasoned rice, to perfectly rounded onigiri. In the next box he opens sat seasoned chicken and beef slices that made your mouth water. Not to mention the salad of rich greens, reds, and yellows that called your name.

Reon chuckles at your awe. “Yeah, I did. I thought it would be nice to eat something home-made while out here, but if you wan to grab something else-“

You cut him off immediately. “Definitely not! This looks and smells amazing. It would be a crime not to eat it.”

The corners of Reon’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did try not to burn it, so I hope it tastes nice.”

“If it tastes even half as good as it smells, you’ll have to fight me to stop eating.” You reply, accepting the plate he holds out and give thanks as he starts loading your plate.

“I’d never stop you from eating,” he clicks his tongue in false sternness, to which you grin at. “If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you until your happy.”

“I’m happy right now, but I definitely still want the food.” You cheekily fire back.

Reon shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well then, eat to your heart’s content.”

Taking a bite, you startle Reon with your enthusiastic reaction.

“This tastes better than I imagined.” You gush after swallowing, immediately scooping up another forkful and eating it.

Reon brushes off your compliment in favour for leaning forward and brushing some crumbs off your face. The proximity as your breath stalling in your throat as he lingers for a heartbeat longer, then withdraws.

“I hope we can do this more often. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” He quietly admits, the mood taking an intimate turn even with the shouts of kids playing in the distance.

“Me too. I don’t want this date to end.”

Shirabu:

This man prides himself on being observant and not oblivious like how his friends are

And yet, contrary to this, it takes him several trips to realise that he’s been on what would count as a date with you

You'll talk about needing a new jumper for winter and Shirabu will ask to tag along. You wanted to watch a movie? Shirabu is coming too. Like having someone besides you while studying? Shirabu was your go-to study buddy, whether in silence or as a conversation partner when your brain was overloaded

Out of the blue, he asks with no certain amount of panic, "Were those trips I went on with you dates?"

"I never really gave it much thought…” You match Shirabu’s expression as you consider his question. "I didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume that they were, and you never brought it up, so I left it be."

"Let me have a re-do." Determination flares in his usually guarded eyes and you couldn't refute.

“Gladly.”

Shirabu glances away from your face, unable to bear looking at the fond expression you wore for too long without his heart suffering. “I want to take you somewhere nice.”

“Everywhere I go with you is nice, Shirabu. It’s less about the place and more about the person.” You rebuke.

Shirabu looks away before you catch the full extent of his blush at your words. “No, I mean I want to take you somewhere that can become special for the both of us.”

You catch his hand in yours, tugging it for him to turn back towards you. Gone was the characteristic impassive façade, now replaced with a tenderness that makes you near melt.

Your first official date with him is a picnic in a park on top a hill to watch the sunset

Something he thinks is extremely cheesy and overdone but the look of excitement on your face immediately silenced his rebuttals

There was no way in hell that he was going to be the reason for your disappointment if he can help it

As such, he went all out

Hiring the gazebo and ordering food to be delivered from a restaurant he knows that you’ve wanted to try out for the longest time

Not that he actually tells you, but it wasn’t hard to deduce his excitement when he waits for you at the gazebo with a small smile, dressed nicely in pressed slacks and a dress shirt with a bundle of flowers

Upon the wide-eyed stare he receives from you, he spends the first minutes of the date describing what the florist thought best for him

A bunch of camellias ranging from a deep and vivid red to the first blush of love pink to the innocence of white gathered in a golden ribbon. He doesn’t exactly tell you their meanings other than a short, “Flowers are flowers, all I want them to show is that I love you.”

What he didn’t know was that the florist had the foresight to hide a card detailing the meaning of each flower amongst the paper holding them

White camellias meaning “You’re adorable” to red camellias meaning “You’re a flame in my heart” (something you blush at in the security of your own home) and the pink one representing longing

As the meal arrives and the two of you eat, the conversation drifts from current events to bits and pieces of everything and anything

The highlight of conversation was Kenjirou’s answer to the question “What do you think you’ll see first: a ghost or an alien?”

Apparently Kenjirou was secretly a space-lover

From the lecture he launched into about the statistics of it all and you come away from that conversation with more knowledge of possibility of E.T's versus spectres than you would’ve thought

The afternoon starts fading into dusk quicker than you realised, too wrapped up trading short anecdotes of your respective families

Shirabu only realises the fading light once the fairy lights decorating the space become brighter, and it is only then that Shirabu like a gentleman, brings out a blanket and escorts you to the grassy knoll besides the gazebo

Laying out the blanket, you notice it’s the perfect position to watch the sun set and you can’t help but give him a quick hug in gratitude before you sit down and make yourself comfortable

It floored you how much effort and consideration he put into this one afternoon amongst all his classes and assignments – it made you feel incredibly warm against the cool night air creeping in

As you shift to get comfortable, your hand lands on top of his. You’re just about to whisk it away, but he shoots you a soft smile and twists his hand in your grasp and gives it a squeeze

Your hands stayed intertwined as the blues faded into pinks and oranges, then into purples and the deep satiny blue of the night sky

The sunny photos with matching smiles from that afternoon soon decorate your wall

Kawanishi:

Unlike the others, Taichi really doesn’t care about being seen as “basic” for taking you out to watch a movie and grab dinner afterwards

He asked you out so casually, you agreed without it even hitting you that it was a date until he grinned at you and cheekily replied, “Great, it’s a date then.”

The movie in question was one you’ve been waiting forward for its release and Taichi was interested in it as well, so really it was an excuse for the both of you to watch the movie together instead of alone.

It went great, asides from the old couple staring the two of you in line, not so quietly reminiscing their first date

Embarrassment aside, Taichi was sweet throughout the entirety of it

Arguing to pay until reluctantly splitting the bill when you argued that it wasn’t fair

Waiting outside for it to start, Taichi and yourself bide the time by guessing what the other movies were about by their posters and making each other laugh

Once the movie starts, the chatter between you two dies down, yet the casual intimacy doesn’t fade in the slightest

Sharing an arm rest, the both of you exchange glances at one another throughout the movie, and bump elbows when something interesting or funny happens

It was a far-cry from the intimacy of the other’s dates, but it was perfect for the two of you

By now, the two of you have been friends much longer than you have been dating

Neither of you wanted to rush things, happy to take it as it comes and retain that familiarity from years of friendship stay untainted from the innate awkwardness of new love

Coming out of the theatre, Taichi is the most talkative you’ve seen him yet as he offers his opinion on the film

You avidly listen without a word of complaint

It was nice to hear what went through Taichi’s mind when he always kept his emotions close to his heart, you felt damn-near jubilant over him coming out of his shell – even after all the years of friendship

He offers to grab dinner and after a mild debate over which place is better, you end up flipping a coin and grabbing some fast food and eating it at a near-by park

Eating the meal in relative silence, it was only broken to point out the ducks and giving them names. It was laid-back and you were enjoying yourself, yet Taichi remained stiff by your side.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly the most romantic date.” Taichi rubs at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes.

You quirk a brow at him. “How isn’t this a romantic date?”

Taichi finally looks at you, although in confusion. “Because I should’ve taken you to a nice, fancy restaurant for our first date.”

“I work on the belief that anywhere is romantic if you make it so. It depends on the company.” You shrug.

Taichi’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Oh? So you wouldn’t mind having our next one at a cemetery?”

You dig an elbow into his side and roll your eyes at the performance he puts on.

“That’s not what I meant, smartass.”

Taichi stops the pouting and slumps into the seat. Hating the sombre mood he’s in, you curl your arm through his and tuck into his side.

“Besides, you can always make it up to me in the future. I want the place to be so expensive that the proportions are baby-sized.”

Taichi’s rich laugh rumbles through you. It was a losing battle against the rapid thrum of your heart and the thoughts of warmth that consume you with his proximity.

You also didn’t try to fight the urge to cuddle further into his side, something he gladly accepted as he wraps his arm even tighter around you.

“I promise.” He sighs, a happy noise as he rests his head against yours, two bodies becoming one whole on that one spring afternoon.

Goshiki:

Not everything in life is a competition, yet Goshiki couldn’t thrive without it

Besides, if he thought too long and hard about it (which he did) an arcade date was the best option

It presented the perfect chance to show off his skills and impress you

When he finally works up the courage to ask you, it had been a while since you’ve been, so you were more than happy to accept

Goshiki deflated with relief because a back-up option didn’t exist

Even after dating for over a month by this point, this would be the first official date he’s taken you out on

After worrying that it was too childish or not at all romantic for a first date, you spent the better half of the afternoon before it convincing him otherwise

At the arcade, Goshiki takes your hand and guides you around the place, pointing out games he bested as a teenager before finally settling on war-cross-zombie two player shooting game

With the growing win streak, the two of you continue playing the game until Goshiki accidentally gets his player killed

Pouting, he suggests a different game to soothe his bruised ego

The pout disappears as he finds a different game he’s decent at, tickets flying out as the points rack up

He glows as you praise his skill

It was too easy to bait him into playing hoop games, which he surprisingly sucked at

You discovered him to be especially gifted at reflex games, where the both of you won the most tickets

With each claw game he stubbornly refuses to “eat his hard-earned money”, he proudly passes off each plushie to you

Goshiki wins whatever prize your eyes linger over, no matter how frustrated it makes him

With each one, you promise to keep and inwardly muse that you’ll have to install a new shelf for them

A few hours deep, you had managed to win him an eagle. It’s the only prize you had won big enough to portray the amount of affection you held towards the bowl-cut male.

It was a bit mishappen and looked more fit to be the mascot for a horror game than a children’s show, however you still offered it to him.

His eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“I mean, I can get you something better if you give me a few minutes…” You frown at the plushie as Goshiki holds it up. It’s even uglier in the light. Why the hell would they have this as a prize?

You reach out to grab it from him and Goshiki snatches it away from your grasp, pressing it into his chest and curling around it protectively. “No!”

You stand there, stunned, as Goshiki flushes at the looks he got from the shout and starts stumbling over his words.

“I mean, it’s fine and not creepy at all – No, I mean it’s cute,” he unconvincingly amends at your wince. “It’s something that you worked hard to get. I’ll treasure it forever, I swear.”

The conviction in his voice was enough to ease your concern.

“I could get you a better one, though. One that’s less creepy.” You offer, gesturing towards the wide array of claw machines boasting figurines and cuter plushies.

“No thank you. I like this one.” Goshiki is stubborn and you should’ve expected that.

You sigh, lips unsurely pulling upwards. “If you’re sure?”

Goshiki gives a sharp nod, and you know that that’s the end of that. He would not budge.

Yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to be exasperated at the awe-filled look he gives the plushie as you two leave the arcade, holding it like it was made of expensive finery instead of cheap thread and fabric.

Months later you got to see the monstrosity again, tucked up on the shelf above his bed, proudly sitting between medals he’s won through the years.

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doctorbunny · 3 years ago

Text

MILGRAM theory time: Haruka!

This isn't going to go super in depth (famous last words) but there's a few heavily debated parts of Haruka's MV I want to share my findings/thoughts on because I think this is my new special interest and during my quest to get best boy's song to 1 million views I have been looking over his first MV with a fine tooth comb so to speak.

Disclaimer: As the Jackalope said in the "This is the MILGRAM" trailer, we don't necessarily know everyone's crime from just the first video, its possible that a lot of things will be re-contextualized in the second MV, however I am not psychic or bilingual and thus will only be working with content released before August 20th 2021 and translated into English (which could cause some language/cultural details to be lost on me as translation is not a 1 to 1 process).

TW for discussions of ableism, child abuse, murder and animal death. Also this is really long so sorry to all the people that follow me for non-MILGRAM stuff

Firstly, I want to start on the topic of Haruka as a person. He is disabled. He does not have 'the mind of a child' (although he is 17, making him legally a minor in both North America and Japan). He is not just 'child-like'. And he is not mentally ill (well he might be, in the sense that many disabilities like Haruka's have strong comorbidities [where a person has two or more conditions but neither directly causes the other] with anxiety, depression and PTSD, but usually when I see people talk about him 'struggling with mental illness' they go on to refer to aspects of his disability). Sometimes on tumblr, people like myself, will see canonical traits written into a character and identify them as being traits associated with our disabilities/mental illness and headcanon them as such. Sometimes this even involves saying things like "It's basically canon!" Although we understand that these characters were probably not the result of a writer intending to write a disabled person. When I say that Haruka is being written as a person with a neurodevelopmental disability, I mean the writer intended to write a disabled character and wrote them in a way that they wanted the audience to pick up on. As an autistic person (which is one of many neurodevelopmental disorders and also something I probably didn't have to specify because who else would be writing an essay about a series they got into a few days ago at 11 o'clock at night) I really like how Haruka has been written so far. There's definitely some parts of him that have been exaggerated so abled normies can pick up on his disability (namely how his MV 's main motif is really child-like drawings) but the writers also included a lot of smaller details I appreciate like how it is noted he avoids eye contact when talking to other people and is depicted as nervously pulling at his sleeves in official artwork, or how he says he finds his prison uniform (which has tight straps) 'relaxing' and when he gets nervous/tense, he will dig his fingernails into the palm of his hands. (These last two potential being examples of 'self stimulation' [aka stimming] where a person seeks out specific sensory stimuli in order to help regulate their nervous system/emotions, in this case the tight uniform creates a comforting, secure feeling [you may have heard about some people preferring to sleep under weighted blankets for this reason] and digging nails into his palms sounds uncomfortable/painful but is done in an attempt to deal with a greater sensory discomfort caused by the situation/environment) I also appreciate the depth he is written with, he struggles to communicate verbally but in his MV and interactions with other inmates is shown to have insecurities, opinions and a consistent thought process (this is all basic character stuff but unfortunately not always present in disabled characters)

Also I want to add that (in terms of what we've been shown so far) Haruka did not kill anyone because of his disability/mental illness. Disabled people are not inherently more innocent than abled people. But there is no disability/mental illness where a symptom is that you kill people and real people have to live with the stigma when you speak carelessly and suggest things like "Haruka is the kind of mentally ill person who kills people as a cry for help" 🧂 (or at the very least real people have to read BS like that and cringe). TL;DR Haruka is less child-like and more onion-like (as in, he has layers) 🧅🧅🧅

Now is the actual theory stuff, oops:

Every prisoner in MILGRAM is supposed to have committed murder in some way, obviously considering Yuno just had an abortion (which i personally do not consider an act of murder) whilst Mu literally stabbed someone to death, this definition is stretched a bit. But it is not agreed upon yet who Haruka killed/how many people he killed or why he killed.

In his MV he is shown to have chased after his dog into a forest, seen something off-screen, then beaten something into a messy pulp with a rock. Some people think the dog is a red herring and that Haruka actually killed his mother/the girl from the fireworks show/his brother. I do not agree.

First: I believe Haruka when he says he doesn't have a brother. The MV literally starts by Haruka looking in the mirror and then switching between the him now

and a really similar looking younger child who just so happened to be a key feature of his memories (I don't have the vocabulary to explain it but its like cinematic parallels that establish this is the same person at different points of their life)

Its not impossible that this is Haruka's secret younger brother, but i think its unlikely. I saw someone saying they had to be different people because Haruka looks less happy than the child but like, most 17 year olds are less visibly happy than when they were 7 (or however old the child is meant to be). Life happens.

So when Haruka is shown pushing the child around and eventually strangling him, this isn't meant to be literal (homicide or suicide), but a representation of how conflicted Haruka feels about his younger self, who may have committed the murder (if you've ever been kept awake cringing at memories of something you said in the past and wishing you could go slap some sense into your former self, this is like that but 10 times more self loathing). The lyric "I am always repeating yesterday," implies he might think about this specific past event a lot.

Moving on, its pretty well accepted that Haruka's parents were abusive in some way and Haruka internalised a lot of it: he constantly apologises, he says in his interrogation questions that his one wish come true is that "[he] want[s] to be loved" and describes in his MV how when he couldn't find the words he was looking for ("you're unfair") one of his parents "would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless.”". He seems to know its unfair but also still says he 'loves' his family, possibly mistakenly believing it is his fault, but also showing an awareness of his situation (and how his parents might behave).

Now, the MV is stylised in a way that makes certain details unclear, but there is one clear detail showing that Haruka's dog was killed

This is the first close up of Haruka and the dog. Haruka's mother is just out of frame supervising, but they look pretty happy. Notice how the puppy has a silvery chain for a collar. Somehow, this dog gets out of the house but only Haruka is shown chasing after it (whether his mother was searching elsewhere or didn't bother following her disabled son into the forest is unclear). Either way, young Haruka is now in the forest, unsupervised.

By the time he finds the dog, there is already blood, suggesting it was initally attacked by something else.

is this a sigh of relief from a boy whose finally found his beloved pet or a jealous weakling glad that nature took its course and he is finally free of that meddling mutt stealing all his mummy's attention? /j

I think this shock at the discovery that 'there is blood on his hands' could imply that rather than literally getting the blood from his dog, Haruka has seen his already injured dog and realises that if the dog got out because of him (he is previously shown to be aware his parents seem to blame him for everything) then he is the reason his dog is injured/dying and will be blamed for it. (this scene plays over the lyrics "It’s fine, though it’s really not It’s really fine, though I don’t really think so When I tried to understand it, You’ll make that disappointed face again" suggesting he is trying to avoid making his parents disappointed and letting the family pet escape into danger is something that could make them very disappointed)

now we get into rock murder (this is present-day Haruka implying that this is either: not how the scene really played out; the writers really wanting the audience to know that this was Haruka's doing and not someone else's; or this turns into a separate incident that happened much later [although note that the red sky and blue moon is the same as when young Haruka first appears at the start])

b the corpse is beyond mangled now, but its clearly the dog because the silver chain collar is still there, to the right of the body. (circled in red for your convenience :3)

My hypothesis is: Haruka didn't set out to kill his dog, but upon finding it injured (we don't know the severity aside from bleeding and also it not being able to run away from Haruka kneeling down above it w/ a big rock so it could range from treatable with a lot of vet help to already on death's door, TBH I don't think Haruka would know the difference) He knew he'd be blamed for this; made into a villain who let the poor puppy come to harm. He panicked and killed the dog out of some idea that it would make him the victim here (since he'd be found crying over a dog corpse, which might make a parent go comfort him rather than getting angry about what could've happened to the dog). This is over the lyrics: "I cried, I screamed I wanted to be a pitied and loved weakling I was in denial, I was in denial I just had to make sure I’ve become a victim, I’ve become a victim" (there's another theory that he was also jealous of the dog, which could work here too, since this is not some calculated plot; rather its a rash decision) This ties in with his Japanese song title (translated as Weakness) which is a play on a phrase sort of like "The strong eat, the weak do not" to become "The weak are eaten by society" or "The weak eat each other to survive" [once again I am reminding everyone this is based on second hand information from the youtube comments section (from users mitchki and Alphaistic) because I do not speak Japanese] This second meaning (The weak eat each other to survive) makes sense under the reading that Haruka killed his dog in order to 'survive' making his parents disappointed for the dog escaping.

Miscellaneous points:

We don't know where Haruka's necklace came from yet, it must be a gift since the most expensive thing he's ever bought was cotton candy. The younger child in the video isn't wearing it and neither is his mother or the girl in the purple dress.

Haruka's home seems quite big, at the start we can see a large flower garden outside the window and there's a forest in walking distance. This might suggest his family is quite wealthy

Haruka probably did go to school at some point as homeschooling is not a legally accepted as an alternative to public schools in Japan. (However it is estimated that up to 5000 families homeschool, this is uncommon) A lot (about 62%) of Japanese schools apparently have a 'special needs' classes and there are about 505 schools focused on educating intellectually disabled students (although I do not know which sort Haruka would've needed as whilst intellectual and development disabilities can be comorbid they aren't the same). Now, if children aged 7-14 don't go to school, their parents receive a fine, but its possible that if Haruka's parents are wealthy, they just paid it to avoid sending him to school. (This might imply they wanted to hide him or were generally ashamed of him in some way) However high school education (for students over 14) is not legally required and its likely that even if Haruka went to elementary/middle school, he hasn't been around people his own age in at least 3 years. As he seems quite lonely and glad that the other prisoners give him attention.

I don't think Haruka's parents are divorced and if they are, its not his father who left. Haruka mentions in the 30 questions that he thinks he disappointed his father. But still includes him as part of his family ("My father and mother and me"). A theory I've seen is that his father was disappointed by his son being disabled and left. but developmental disabilities (especially in non verbal and semi verbal children like Haruka) can be diagnosed before the age of 3, so I feel it is unlikely that Haruka would bring up his father if he left that early in Haruka's life

All MILGRAM prisoners have covered one of DECO*27's older vocaloid songs (DECO*27 is a well known producer who composes the music for MILGRAM) Haruka covered 'Two Breaths Walking' (https://youtu.be/puXLfVWrz2Q) which is about a boy's first relationship and how his mother's jealousy set him up for failure as the relationship becomes toxic (specifically it has some very funny out of context lines like "Whose breasts are you sucking on now?") so yeah, mommy issues: the song (Also: some people say in the song, the boy kills the girl at the end, but this isn't literal, TBW is the first of a trilogy of songs about the same relationship, it is followed by Android girl then Two Breaths Walking: Reloaded and the story resolves with the couple reuniting as adults and getting in the relationship again, although its not necessarily as abusive as before, its still implied to be codependant ending on the line 'We should live like oxygen tanks, sucking breathe from the words each of us exhale, until our last breathe')

In all seriousness, the scene where younger Haruka is walking through the city with his mother but it keeps repeating until older Haruka pulls the younger one away might indicate an attempt to focus the happier memories of his parents (since this is also over the lyrics "Why is it breaking? Tell me why? Please don’t change If I tried and couldn’t say it, You would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless.”" which depict a worse scene) I think both his parents are still physically present but have become far more emotionally distant, not giving him as much attention, which exacerbates his loneliness from not having any friends his own age to talk to

And if one of his parents did leave? I think its likely his mother since she is shown disappearing out of his reach after the dog-incident (inferring she got angry/disappointed in Haruka anyway) This could also be where he got his necklace from: Its something his mother used to wear (although this is 100% a guess) and that's why its shown to be important to him

This one is just me, but i didn't realise until a rewatch that when Haruka is watching the younger him and the girl running together, the background has fireworks. Haruka mentions fireworks being a key memory to him so I wonder if this was one of the first/last times he got to make a friend...

On three separate occasions in the interrogation, Haruka mentions not liking animals. Despite this, he is depicted as sleeping with a rabbit plush and on his birthday art (I'd include that too but tumblr only allows 10 pictures per post, so here's a link) he is standing next to a giant blueberry and strawberry cake with two bunny themed biscuits at the side. Through my experiences of seeing Japanese fandom art on pixiv, sometimes rabbits are used to insinuate a character is cute and timid in fanart.

Meaningless details: Haruka sleeps with his necklace on; he sleeps on a bed and not a futon; at first I thought he woke up holding his plush's hand but his hand is merely next to the toy; and considering the state of the pillow and blanket, I wonder if he moves a lot in his sleep or if the is just because in this case he seems to be waking up from a nightmare about the dog incident...

Final note: I've spent so many hours writing this I don't remember if i was building up to any big finale or not but I hope you enjoyed reading this! Feel free to add on in the comments/reblogs.

#haruka sakurai #milgram #milgram theory #001 #text post #essay #long post

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escapewithbts · 3 years ago

Text

Secrets in a Foreign Language (Part Seven) - Jungkook

sorry it took so long for an update!

<<previous_next>>

—————————————

You were heartbroken. How someone you hadn’t known very long could make it hurt so badly you weren’t sure. But man, did it hurt.

So many times over the next week you debated just showing up at his place, hearing his side, figuring out a next step together. You missed him.

But then you would recall him telling you to get in the closet, acting like a coward, like you were his meaningless dirty little secret. Reminding yourself of these things kept you from going over there.

In fact, you barely left your apartment at all. The same loneliness of when you first moved to Seoul becoming ever so prevalent again. You vowed to try and go out and make friends when all this Jungkook stuff was just a distant memory.

However, it proved difficult to make it all fade away in your mind since you were still scheduled to clean his apartment. To go back to the place where it all came to a beginning. And an abrupt end.

With hesitation, you slipped the key into the lock of the front door the following Tuesday. You insisted he not be there that last time you saw him, but what if he wanted to reconcile? You gulped and opened the black wooden door.

Silence.

He wasn’t on the couch in front of the tv waiting for you. He wasn’t in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. He wasn’t in the master bathroom taking a quick shower. Jungkook wasn’t here. You didn’t know if you felt relieved or disappointed, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about it as you immediately noticed the state of the home. It wasn’t cleaned like all the weeks prior. It was lived in, messy even.

So that was it. Back to square one. You alone in the apartment of a famous and wealthy Korean celebrity with a job to do.

A few days later you were laying on the couch in your studio loft apartment. It was dark outside since it was 12:47am, the only light was coming from the iridescent blue glow of the television. This had become a routine now, you turning on the tv but not watching anything in particular, just so there was noise and something to get your mind off everything. Some nights you never even made it upstairs to your bed.

And tonight your eyes began to slowly drift shut, your thoughts traveling elsewhere, the beginning of sleep taking over.

All of the sudden, you heard Jungkook’s name from the television. Or had you dreamt it? However, when your eyes opened in shock and confusion, his ever familiar face appeared on the screen. It was the same show you had seen while scrolling channels at Jungkook’s a couple months ago you realized, the trashy one where random people discuss the lives of famous actors and musicians. You sat up and tried to focus on the delayed English subtitles coming up at the bottom of the screen.

“… an official statement from both their companies was released.”

“So, it is true?”

“I would say that solidifies it.”

Cho-hee’s picture popped up. Followed by one taken outside at night of her and Jungkook walking and laughing. Then a graphic of a zig-zag shaped rip formed between their bodies, and the picture ripped in half, a broken heart and crying face appearing between them.

“Wow. They seemed so happy. I really thought this would last.”

“They’re so young and busy, no need to settle down yet.”

“But still, this begs the question… is love even real?”

*laughter*

Then they moved on to talking about another kpop idol.

Your felt your heart pound inside your chest. Jungkook and Cho-hee had “broken up”? Their companies had let them? They were no longer in a secret fake relationship? You couldn’t help but wonder what happened.

With shaky hands, you picked up your phone from the coffee table and opened the internet. Curiosity was getting the better of you, your desire to read those statements greater than your will to stop yourself from trying to remove all evidence of Jeon Jungkook from your brain.

‘Hello,

This is a representative from HYBE Corporation commenting in regard to the relationship between our artist Jeon Jungkook and fellow artist Kim Cho-hee. At this time, Ms. Kim and Mr. Jeon have mutually decided to part ways due to their careers and lack of schedule alignment. Going forward, there will no longer be any updates on the matter, and any information regarding their relationship from outside sources is invalid. Please respect the artists’ decision and privacy during this time.

Thank you.

HYBE Corp.: PR Department’

You stared at your phone in shock, rereading it a couple times to make sure it was real.

So, they really ended their fake relationship? Was because of Jungkook or Cho-hee? Or their companies? What was the real reason? Who was the perpetrator?

So many theories and questions ran through your head, furthering your exhaustion, and soon enough you drifted off to sleep, head full of images and thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.

The following Tuesday started off like any other. The sound of your alarm blaring woke you up out of a deep sleep at 4:00 in the morning. You groaned and hit the snooze button, questioning why you chose a job where you had to work so early… and basically all your other life decisions. (You were, in fact, not a morning person).

Eventually you sat up and rubbed your puffy eyes, removing the sleep from their corners. You yawned and stretched your arms up high before reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You checked Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, of course, then like every morning, you opened your work schedule, just to see if there had been any changes to the course of the day ahead.

And boy, was there.

For under the 2pm slot was the same unit number that had been there for weeks, however this time one word next to it caught your immediate attention.

Vacancy.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Wait, what?

Clearly this was wrong. This was Jungkook’s apartment! There was no way it was now empty. He had never mentioned the fact that he wanted to move, that he was going to move. This would have come up in a conversation with him at least once if it was this sudden.

Yes, his stuff would still be there when you arrived to clean this afternoon. He still owned it, still lived there. He wasn’t gone. Right?

Wrong.

To your surprise, when you opened the door, the entire apartment was empty. Everything was gone. It was cold and echo-y and barren. Dust covered the hardwood floors of the living room where the rug had laid. Harsh sunlight poured in through the large windows, no longer shielded by the curtains that had previously been hanging there. The walls were now bare, small holes left from the various works of art that were once on display.

The memories of the times being with Jungkook flooded your brain almost instantly. Playing games and watching shows and movies on his large sofa. The time he admitted he was cleaning just so he could hang out with you. When you would two would sit at the kitchen island and eat delicious food, talking and laughing about anything and everything. When he told you he had feelings for you. The first of many times you made love.

Overcome by those thoughts, you finally allowed yourself to break down.

The sound of your sobs and unsteady breathes bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the room, tears cascading down your hot cheeks.

Maybe you were being dramatic. Maybe Jungkook had turned out to be a coward. Maybe he had been using you for sex and company. Maybe he had lied about having feelings for you. Who knows?

But even if had been all pretend for him, you had still fallen in love with him.

You could finally admit that the past two weeks since you saw him last you may have been holding on to some kind of hope. Hope that he wasn’t a coward, hadn’t been using you, did have feelings for you; and all that would become evident if you ever saw each other again, if he was ever at his apartment when you came to clean like he had been so many other times.

But now it was as if the universe was laughing at you for falling for someone so unattainable and complicated.

He was gone, and you had no way of contacting him.

Eventually you pulled yourself together enough to start the long cleaning process for a vacant unit. Every surface, cupboard, drawer, nook and cranny had to be spotless so new potential buyers could tour the home.

You started in the living room: vacuuming, mopping and dusting, making sure the floor, walls, and windows were shining.

Then you moved into the adjoining kitchen, spraying and wiping every countertop, the refrigerator, the island. You even had to open each drawer and cabinet to wipe those down, too.

But as you opened the last upper cabinet to clean its inside as well, you suddenly caught your breath in your throat.

For there inside the cupboard was a box of cereal. Your favorite cereal. The same kind of cereal you had eaten with Jungkook in this very kitchen the first day you met.

He must have just left it on accident.

With a shaky hand, you grabbed it and brought it down to eye level. That’s when you noticed the envelope taped to the front of the box.

Your heart pounding, you ripped it off and tore it open.

Inside was a letter, and as you unfolded it something fell out and into your hand.

It was a ticket.

To a BTS fanmeeting event.

What?

Your eyes moved to the handwritten letter.

‘There are so many things I wish I had done differently. You didn’t deserve what I asked of you that day. I’m so sorry I handled everything so poorly. I don’t blame you for questioning everything and leaving. I was a coward. I know this now.

Please, please come see me. Please come to this event. I understand if you don’t. I just want nothing more than to see you and talk to you again.’

And then, at the very bottom,

‘보고 싶어요

사랑해요

JK’.

Masterlist

Author’s note: The two phrases in Korean at the end mean “I miss you” and “I love you”(!!!!).

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eternally-writing · 4 years ago

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Half the World Away | pjm.

genre: angst, fluff

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jimin x reader

theme: idol!au, established relationship!au

word count: 1k

warnings: none

synopsis: You already miss Jimin whenever he’s away, and when you have a bad week you miss him a lot.

banner by me!

I wrote this drabble for part of the BTS Ghostie Writer’s Net Drabble Marathon! This drabble is based on the Song Lyrics Category prompt “Don’t say you’re okay, because you aren’t.” from Blue and Grey!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

After dating Jimin for 6 years, from pre-debut to stardom, you both had fallen into a well-oiled machine of a relationship. There were some parts that you both had agreed on together, such as “Jimin sleeps on the right side of the bed and you sleep on the left”, and “no going to bed upset with each other”, while some you had figured out on your own through some trial-and-error during your relationship.

For example, you had learned that Jimin actually hated broccoli (and I mean, truly despised it) but he never wanted to tell you since you loved it so much, but ever since then you’ve started cooking only one portion of broccoli and he couldn’t hide how grateful he was. However, the most important thing you had learned was that when Jimin was on tour he was busy - he spent morning to evening every night in rehearsals, performances, and appearances, and even on his days off he was out exploring with the boys so he didn’t have time to talk. After 5 different tours, you had learned that any correspondence from Jimin (whether it be a cute selfie of him in front of a tourist spot, or a quick good morning text even thought it was actually 1am and you were heading to bed) was something to be cherished, and you should have basically no expectations and wish for nothing more.

That’s why after you had endured an absolutely terrible week, you didn’t say a word about it to Jimin. It started with your car stalling on your way to work, then your dog had decided to rip up your new $200 dress that you had been saving up for for months, then a kid threw up on you at the grocery store ( the way kids just managed to throw up anywhere was a huge ick for you), and then last and most of all, your boss had scheduled a 10 min “check in and chat” with you at 5pm on Friday, which resulted on you being fired for your job.

Dating an idol had taught you to be very self sufficient, but on nights like this, when you were crying on your couch, greasy pizza in hand, and clutching a Charmander plushie Jimin won for you at a carnival as if it could act as any sort of replacement for him, you wanted nothing more than Jimin by your side. No matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to replace him.

That’s why as you saw Jimin’s name pop up on your screen, with the word “FaceTime” underneath, you prayed to every single god out that there that you’d be able to keep yourself together for the probable 5 minutes that he’d have to spend with you.

It was Jimin who spoke first, appearing with a huge grin on his face and cheering with a “hi babe! How’s it going?”

You attempted to carrying on small talk with Jimin, updating him with the very small list of things that had gone well since you had last been in contact with him. You tried your best to muster up adequate reactions while Jimin was recounting his tour adventures, and maybe you could have done a better job of it if you weren’t constantly trying to hold back tears.

The thing was, while you had been making your own list of things you had learned about your relationship, you failed to realize that Jimin was doing the same as well. He picked up on your quirks, like how you had black coffee in the morning but took yours with 2 cream in the evening, and how you hated when movies had sad endings so he always looked up the endings of movies beforehand to make sure they didn’t upset you. He knew that you stopped making as much broccoli as him because you had realized he didn’t like it, so he made sure to show you how much he appreciated it every time.

Jimin saw the way your eyes shined in the reflection of the light from your phone, and if that wasn’t enough for him to deduce your emotions, you also touched your hair every 0.5 seconds - something he had learned was a dead giveaway that you were seconds away from sobbing.

“Y/N, baby…”

You could immediately hear the instant switch to a patronizing tone in Jimin’s voice, but you took a deep breath in efforts to shake the lump in your throat, ruffling your hair again to try and calm your feelings.

“I’m fine Jimin, really, perfect okay. Tell me about what you did today in Osaka! Did you end up going to Disney like you wanted?” You couldn’t stop your voice from cracking in the middle of your sentence.

As if through divine intervention, a savior in the form of Jungkook came bursting through Jimin’s door with a chorus of “Hyung, our break is over!”. However, for the first time in your relationship, Jimin shushed Jungkook, begging him to cover for him and that he had something important to tend.

Your eyes wanted to water just at that last sentence. You didn’t know how much you missed being important to Jimin until he said it out loud.

“Babe, I know something’s wrong and I want you to tell me, okay? No matter what, I’m going to be here to help you through it - there’s nothing that we can’t handle together. Don’t pretend you’re okay, because you aren’t".

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked what you read please make sure to interact/follow! Thank you for reading ♡ - Emily

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anime-corner · 4 years ago

Text

Unmiss You I Iwaizumi H.

A/N: So, I basically don’t know how it turned out like this... Not proud of this one though, kind of am? It’s honestly confusing. But hey, hope you like it!

Two A.M. At least that was the time that was shown on his phone. He couldn't remember how long since then. Or how it happened. He just knew that he fucked up.

The device rang in his hand, answering quickly, not bothering to check the caller I.D., hoping that it was you, "yeah?"

"Aww, Iwa-chan! That was quick! Did you miss me that much?" He scoffed, throwing the phone on his bed, the call on speaker as he laid back down, his arm draped over his eyes.

"What do you want, Oikawa?" He asked without the usual insult to the setter's name.

"Are you… still thinking about her?" The caller said, careful in his words, "Besides, it's what? Almost three? You're usually not up this early."

"Why do you care?" He huffed as he thought about it. He never did stay up late or woke up early unless it was to give Oikawa the support he needed. But this time it was different, he knew that, and that was because he was waiting for you.

"Geez, of course, I care! You're my best friend! And it's obvious that you're miserable without her." Oikawa could hear shuffling on the other end.

"What do I do then? She won't answer my calls o-or reply back to my messages." Iwaizumi held out a pillow, throwing it across the room in frustration, "Hell, I can't even get a glimpse of her without those crows stopping me!!"

"Maybe… She wants to move on?" It was silent for a few moments as he debated in his mind. Was she really?

"... I hope not. Because wouldn't it be unfair if… she gets to forget everything when all I want is to get her back?" He gripped onto his dark hair, tears threatening to spill, his firm look shattering to pieces, "She's all that I think about after that game. She's in my dreams, within my vision… I could even hear her at times but…"

"But what?" A heavy sigh left Iwaizumi's lips as he succumbed to his thoughts.

"You're right… Maybe, she doesn't want me back. I can't just rewind time to make it right. I can't go back to before I fell for her, to stop myself from meeting her and undo everything because I know that I'll just end up liking her. Loving her." It wasn't like him to act like this.

He was stubborn. He wouldn't stop at anything like a breakup. Instead, he'd do anything to get you back. But, with how he was right now, he doubts that he'd be able to. That's just what was running inside his head. Full of doubt and regret.

"It would have been easier that way…" Oikawa comments, giving out a sigh as well.

"Yeah, no shit. But like you said, maybe she wants to move on. And I just have to live with the fact that you can't easily unmiss a person you so badly miss." Iwaizumi let out a growl of annoyance, hearing noises from the other side of the screen, "Oi Kusokawa, are you still listening!?!"

"Get up. Out of bed. I'll pick you up in thirty minutes." He had to blink a couple of times, trying to register the words of his friend.

"What do you mean you'll pick me up!? Oi, don't come over or I'll kick your ass!"

"Just do it, will you Hajime?" Iwaizumi mumbles incoherent words to himself, debating whether or not he should. In the end, he gives in.

"Whatever."

Forcing himself out of his bed, he dressed with what he thought was okay looking. A long sleeve grey shirt and ripped jeans, not bothering to look good for something Oikawa had planned for him. It was useless, he thought. A distraction was useless. A knock came as he opened it, the setter eyed his friend from top to bottom.

"You look like shit." Oikawa said as he went in, hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, thanks sherlock." He rolled his eyes, closing the door.

"What's with the outfit? Come on, I'll get you something else." The setter darted towards his room, opening the closet for something the dark-haired male to wear.

"Why are you here, Oikawa? I'm assuming you aren't here just to take my mind off of her." Iwaizumi questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Actually, I asked (y/n) if she could just hear you out. She'll be meeting us at the park." Oikawa admitted, already preparing for the worse.

"YOU DID WHAT!? YOU IDIOT! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?" Hands wrapped around the collar of Oikawa's shirt, face dangerously close and seething with rage.

"Because you're both hurting! See for yourself!" He got out his phone, scrolling through the messages he and two of Karasuno's members had been exchanging, "Both Tobio-chan and that Small Fry has been sending me pictures of her during their practice and she's trying her best to cope, struggling just the same as you."

"Shut up Assikawa!! (y/n)... She doesn't want me back. If she did, we would have fixed our relationship by now." "I lost her because I messed up. And--" Oikawa threw a pair of jeans with an oversized dark blue denim jacket and a grey hoodie.

"Here. Wear this." It was also the same one he wore when they watched the game between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, "That's what you wore on your first date, right?"

"I… yeah."

"Good. I'm sure she'd like it if you wore that instead. I'll give you ten minutes to freshen up." He left Iwaizumi to get ready, closing the door behind him, "Or at least, as much as you possibly can. Geez, I can't believe you're an emotional wreck!"

Was it okay? Was it okay to see you? Did you hate him? Or did you still care? Was there still a chance for the two of you to get back together? More questions than answers and honestly, he only wanted to know if you'd take him back again.

"Hey, are you really sure she'll be there?" He got out of his room, wearing the clothes Oikawa handed him.

"I'm sure but…" Looking at him up and down again, a smile on his lips. His usual cheerful and outwardly carefree expression was on his face, "Look at my Iwa-chan, all grown up and ready to get his girl back!"

"Shut up! This was your idea!"

"Huh? Does that mean you don't really plan on fixing all of this? Are you giving up?" Iwaizumi choked on nothing, that wasn't his intention. He wasn't giving up. He just didn't know how to.

"That's not…" He was struggling to get his words out.

"Just kidding, Iwa-chan~!" Oikawa received a hit behind the head, one of the usual violent punishments he would get from his best friend, "Gah! What'd you hit me for?!"

"Shut up!"

"Is your vocabulary only limited to that?"

"Shut up!"

The walk towards the meeting place was quiet. He was uneasy. What were you even expecting from him? A sorry? To beg for forgiveness? A hug perhaps? Because he'd be ready to give you anything and everything. Shit, he should have brought that scarf you made for him.

"Huh? She isn't here yet?" Oikawa looked around but you were nowhere to be found.

"I knew it. She hates me." The dark haired male crashed down on a nearby bench.

"Now, don't go all psychic on me Iwaizumi. I was only late." Standing up quickly as if he didn't drown in his sorrows sitting on that wooden seat.

"(y/n)!" The setter greeted, tackling you into a hug.

"Sorry Tooru, did I make you wait?" You asked, pulling away from his hold.

"Nope! We just got here. I had to make sure Iwa got all dressed up instead of coming here only in sweatpants. Or those nasty jeans I saw him wear when I got there." He shuddered when he felt Iwaizumi's glare hitting his back as he raised both of his hands, making his way to the sides, "Well, I'll be way over there before Iwa-chan hits me again!"

"So…" The both of you start, the male clearing his throat when you didn't open your mouth to speak.

"Uh, you go first." He gestured towards you as you shook your head.

"Tooru asked me to listen. Now, talk. I still have to help Kiyoko and Hitoka in handling the boys." Iwaizumi nodded, realizing what little time he had to explain.

"Right." He began, rubbing the back of his head, "Oikawa told me everything… that happened that day.

• • •

You have been meeting up with Oikawa for the past few days now. You planned on surprising him on your third anniversary and with his best friend's help, you knew he'd like it, especially if he and his team win against Shiratorizawa. Well, you want your team to win too, but can't choose which side you'd support so, you decided that whoever wins would avenge the other.

Aoba Johsai lost.

His team lost and you stood there at the balcony crying your tears out, both in frustration and happiness. The latter because of your team and the former for the loss. You excused yourself, looking for any of the third years in the team. And you happen to stumble upon Oikawa.

"Tooru!" You shouted, running towards the setter.

"(y/n)? Shouldn't you be with your team?" He asked, looking around for the crows. Or at least, his little rival other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

"They'll understand why I left. But most importantly, how are the two of you? How's Hajime?" It was your turn to look for your boyfriend.

"I'm… not sure. Iwa-chan's probably with Mattsun and Makki. The others should be together." You nodded, grasping both of his hands in yours.

"I'm sorry for what happened, you were all really great! I promise we'll beat up Ushiwaka's ass for you two!" You declared, earning a chuckle from him.

"It's fine, (y/n)-chan." Oikawa ruffled your hair once you released his hands before remembering something, "Hey, why don't you give your present to him, I'm sure he'd like it especially when you've been at it for weeks. Isn't it your anniversary today? It'll help him a lot." You hugged the man in front of you, appreciating the help and support he has given you.

"I hope so. Ah well, thanks again for the help Tooru, I really appreciate it. I'm happy that Hajime has a friend like--" You were then cut off by a shout, your name echoing throughout the hall.

"(y/n)!!"

"Hajime! Great timing! I've got something--” You rushed towards him and was about to give him a hug when the look on his face made you stop.

“No. You don’t have to. I can see it perfectly clear.” Iwaizumi said as your brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You asked, glancing at the other two third-years behind him who only shrugged.

“What do I mean?! I should have known that you liked Oikawa from the start! We lost the game and the first person you went to find was him!? Unbelievable (y/n), unbelievable!” He bellowed, glaring at the two of you. His eyes were clouded with grief from losing and seeing you with his best friend triggered something he didn't want inside of him.

“W-what? That’s not true. Look, I just managed to bump into him and--” He cut you off again, his hands clenched tightly.

"Yeah okay, blame it on that!"

“Hey Iwaizumi, I think you should calm down a bit.” Hanamaki joined in, placing a hand on the shoulder of their vice-captain.

“Yeah, they were just talking. (y/n) was probably comforting him and asking for you.” Matsukawa added, getting ready to help his best friend if Iwaizumi ever decides to punch away his anger.

“Bullshit! I know what I saw! How do you explain those past few days huh?! I wanted to ask you out before the Interhigh and it so happened that I saw the two of you together. I ignored it because I trusted you!” He held back, not to get him and his team kicked out and bring shame to the school in his final year. Though it was painful, he knew he needed to get rid of it verbally, "If you wanted him then you should have said so from the start! I would have understood. So, I'm letting you go. That's what you want right? To be free from me?!"

"H-hey now, you don't mean that right? Why don't we take a seat a-and we'll talk this out, yeah?" You offered, walking towards him cautiously.

"Talk? You still want to talk?!! I'm done (y/n), okay!? Just leave me alone! I never want to see you ever again!" He lashes out, his emotions controlling every bit of his sanity.

“Idiot! You’re a total idiot!!” You screamed at him, closing your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. You don't want to let him see how weak he's making you, not in a situation like this.

“How did I become--!!”

“I asked Tooru to help me think up an idea for the gift I wanted to give you for our anniversary. He’s your best friend so I thought it was okay and that he’d be able to keep a secret. But surprise, surprise, you don’t like that kind of thing. You don’t need to be jealous of someone I don’t have feelings for! But hey, I guess you don’t trust me like you say you do!” Shuffling through your bag, you pushed an Aegean hued scarf with Olive colored horizontal lines near the fringe, “Here, take it. Burn it for all I care. We’re done.”

'Did she..? No wait, don't move. I'm sorry..' He thought, he couldn't voice the words out and even if he did, the damage was already done, 'Why can't I…? (y/n) please, let's talk…'

"Goodbye, Haji-- no, Iwaizumi-san…" Saying his last name added salt, tons of it, to the biggest wound ever inflicted on your heart. And on his too.

'I said don't go..! I can't reach you if you do. I can't feel myself, please don't go.' Again, the words wouldn't dare leave his mouth as he was also afraid that he'd say something wrong. He didn't dare blink, wanting to still see your figure within his vision, 'Let me see those hands again, I'll kiss it all better. Just don't leave me…'

"Oi, Oikawa!!" Suddenly he was on the floor with a bruised cheek and an angry setter in front of him, being held back by the other two they were with. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I get it that you're like that towards me but (y/n) didn't do anything wrong! She asked me for what you wanted and this is the thanks she gets!?" His grip on his collar was tight as he was still able to get close to him despite being held down by two of their friends, "You saw those bandages on her hands right? Well, she made that scarf all by herself just for you! She did that despite knowing nothing about knitting!"

"I…" He started but, as if you were still there, the words he so wanted to stay retreated back down his throat.

"What!? You what, Iwaizumi!!?" Oikawa snapped, almost on the brink of insanity like how Iwaizumi was before you left, "Got anymore bad things to say about her!?!"

"Zip it, will you?! I know that she didn't do anything wrong! It's just my fucked up and tired self making all the excuses!" He looked down, burying his face in his hands.

"Y-you could still run after her. I'm sure she'd--" One of them said, patting his back.

"She won't. Six years and never did she go against her word once she's made up her mind. It'll take a shit load of convincing but, I doubt she'd want me back." He gave out a huff, walking away until his best friend stopped him.

"Then you've just got to be stubborn like usual and try your best." Oikawa spoke, pumping the depressed Iwaizumi up.

"Huh? Ah, y-yeah…"

• • •

"How long has it been since you last slept?" You asked him, caressing his cheeks with your thumb as he leaned into your touch.

"What?" He blinked a couple of times before sighing, "I slept, maybe for just a few hours before waking up again because every time I close my eyes, that face you gave me that day keeps coming back to me and…"

"And?" He didn't want to tell you but, this would be the chance that he couldn't take hold of on that day.

"And there's this stupid scene that keeps playing in my dreams, during that fight we had, you left and when I saw you again, you were so happy with someone else and that broke me." He wanted to cry but all he could do was ball his fists with his brows furrowed in anger. Anger towards himself and his stupid decisions, "My last words to you that day was to leave me alone. That I never wanted to see you again. But, I was wrong. I still want you here by my side. I still want to see you. I still want to hear your voice every morning after I wake up and every night before I sleep just like before."

"Iwaizumi…" You started but your words just went in one ear and out the other as he continued.

"What I'm saying is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I fucked up. That my jealousy got in between the two of us. It was dumb of me and Oikawa's supposed to be the childish one." He chuckled bitterly, mostly to himself. Now that he spoke his mind, it was silly of him to feel that way. To feel, was it inferiority? "I guess I still wasn't used to being the one getting the attention instead of him who's always surrounded by fangirls everywhere. Or believe in the idea of someone who would actually love me and not use me just to get to him."

"Iwaizumi, never in my life was I attracted to him. You know that right? I told you this once before." He held both of your hands, placing the other on his cheek. It was as if he was touch deprived and wanted to make up for the times he was away from you.

"I know. It's just that… letting you go that day was the hardest thing I've ever done. I couldn't even stop you, I just stayed there. I tried, believe me, I tried but I couldn't. I wanted to make you stay. But losing my last game in high school and all my emotions were over the place that it took a toll on me." Iwaizumi admitted. Sighing for who knows how many times now.

"It's okay. I understand." He stared at you, confusion written all over his face.

"No, you don't! I'm not blaming this on my loss. I'm blaming this on myself, for doubting you. You've been loving me so right despite studying in different schools and all I did was hurt you! Days after we broke up, I've been feeding myself these useless reasons not to see you, telling myself that you're mad at me and that you don't need me anymore. I'm sorry. Please hate me…" He was crying, he didn't care anymore if anyone saw him so… vulnerable. You wiped it all away, a smile on your lips.

"Hajime." You started. It was the first time in weeks since he last heard you say his name, "I love you."

"W-what?" These words were the least he expected to come out of your mouth but, he wasn't complaining either.

"You heard me. I love you." You repeated before you giggled, "Sure yeah, you were totally an ass for not listening to me but it doesn't change the fact that I still love you. And I also heard from Tooru that you haven't been like yourself since that day, my fault entirely. I should have thought about what your reaction would be.

"You know… I tried to come up with tons of reasons to just give up, so we both wouldn't have to hurt like this. It would have been easier for both of us. But, I can't. I don't want things to be easy between us. Everything you do makes me fall for you over and over, deeper than the last time. And hearing you say that you still love me, makes me realize that I should have tried even harder." Iwaizumi hugged you tightly, afraid that this was all a dream and was about to wake up. Or was he going soft just for you? Because it was obviously not because of Oikawa.

"So, what do you want to happen to us? What's your call?" You asked looking up at him.

“What’s this? Are you two okay now?” The childish devil on Iwaizumi's shoulder popped in between the two of you, “You are! That’s great! I’ll tell them right now--!”

“You, hanger bastard! I’ll beat you up--” He was about to give Oikawa a piece of his mind when he heard your voice echo in his ear.

“Hanger bastard? What’s with the new insult?” You laughed out loud, the wing spiker smiled, missing the sound, "Where'd you get that?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow, I'm sure Mattsun and Makki want to get a say in this too." He suggested, receiving a nod from you.

"Hey Iwa-chan, you guys don't have to diss me every time you get jealous!!" Iwaizumi scoffed, ignoring the setter.

"Anyways, I'll fetch and take you home after practice. We've got a lot of catching up to do." He offered, intertwining both of your fingers together, “We can even start now, I’ll walk you to Karasuno.”

"I'd like that, Hajime."

I gave you my heart and I don't regret not taking it back. My attention is yours and no one else's from the beginning until the end.

#hq x y/n #haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#hq!!#hq fluff #hq angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #hq hcs #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x y/n #hq x you #hq imagines

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mageofseven · 4 years ago

Note

are requests open? how would the brothers (or undateables) react to MC giving them a bouquet of flowers because they want to show their partner they care?

Ooo okay cute! I think I'd add another layer to this and use flower language so each bouquet has a cute meaning~

This will be for just the Brothers, but I will have another post out for the Undateables' version 😊

Lucifer:

Gives him a bouquet of red carnations (symbolising love, pride, and admiration) and Peonies (symbolising happy life, happy marriage, good health, and prosperity).

The oldest was in his study, sighing over the stack of paperwork he had been trying to dwindle down all morning.

Their boyfriend has been so busy and stressed lately; the human simply wanted to help ease things for him, but in a new and meaningful way.

At first, the demon didn't didn't even acknowledge when MC stepped in, but when they approached his desk and started rocking on their feet nervously, the man sighed once more and looked up at them.

"I'm sorry, Love. What is it?"

"Okay so...I did a thing..." They mumbled before revealing the bouquet from behind their back.

The Avatar of Pride raised an eyebrow before letting a soft smile spread across his face.

"They are very beautiful. However, I don't recall there being any occasion for them."

"There is though!" MC insisted. "These flowers represent a message for you!"

Lucifer took the human's wrist and guided them around the desk and onto his lap. Arms around them, the demon stared down at the bouquet.

"I see." He kissed their neck. "Well, I'm afraid I am not caught up on my flower language so I'll be relying on your interpretation."

The human blushed and could feel the man's low chuckle from behind them.

"If you truly have a message for me, Love, now is the time to say it."

"I..." MC hid their face in the flowers and mumbled a little. "The red carnations are for love and admiration...I love you so much and I admire how hard you work...but the peonies are for a happy life and good health. I...want you to take better care of yourself."

"I take it you're worried for me?"

"Luce...you didn't come to bed last night and you were in here all day yesterday. Of course, I'm worried--and don't say you can handle this because even so, stress and lack of sleep are not good for you."

The man let out a long sigh before adjusting the human in his arms and rising from his seat.

"L-Luce?"

"If what you need from me is some rest then so be it."

Wouldn't usually give in so easily, but his Love put so much thought into expressing their worry so it would be wrong to simply dismiss them.

Mammon:

Gives him a bouquet of Alstromeria (symbol of wealth, prosperity, and fortune, as well as a flower of friendship) and Sweet Peas (symbolic of departure after having a good time).

It was the night before MC was being sent back to the Human realm. They knocked on his bedroom door and the second brother let them in, eyeing the flowers with a red face.

"W-What are those for??"

"For you." MC smiled. "It's...ya know since I'm leaving tomorrow. It's a thank-you."

Mammon grinned, trying to act confident.

"Well of course you got these for me! You got a lot to thank me for looking out for ya, now dontcha?"

"I really do." MC handed them to the demon. "There's a meaning to my flower choices though. Alstromeria is to wish you luck in money matters and express how much your friendship has meant to me. The sweet peas...to say that I had a lot of fun with you this school year."

The second brother went silent. I mean, what was he supposed to say after hearing that they put so much thought into giving him freaking flowers.

"Just...thank you for everything, Mammon. Really." MC leaned in and kissed his cheek before turning to the door.

The man's brain was short circuiting from the kiss, but still managed to push through the flustered-ness to call out.

"Oil! Wait a second 'ere!"

MC looked over their shoulder, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

The words died in his mouth. This was his last chance to tell them how he felt...but he wonder if there was any point in it anymore? I mean, they leave tomorrow...

Despite still having the urge to say something, the man lowered his head and waved off the human.

"Eh, forget. Go to bed or something. I have things to do."

And then they left, just as he told them.

Now he's left wondering if he should of spoken up or not he should have.

Leviathan:

Gives him a bouquet of Hydrangeas (symbolising heartfelt emotions and used to express gratitude of being understood) and Anemone (which has a positive meaning of anticipation).

It was a couple days before MC had to return to the Human realm.

The two were hanging out like it was any other day though. Levi was immersed in his game, so much so that he didn't notice when MC left the room and came back with the bouquet.

"Levi, pause the game."

"Dude, it's an online match--"

Their boyfriend dropped the controller when he saw the flowers. His face went red as he just ceased to function.

"Levi?"

"W-W-What the hell are those?!"

"Flowers?"

"W-Well duh" He stammered out. "But why are they in my room?"

Because surely, surely they were not for him. I mean, why would the human be giving flowers to a stinky otaku like himself?

"They're for you."

Error. Blue screen. Levi.exe has stopped working. Please reset your Levi and--

"I...look." MC continued. "The hydrangeas represent...well, just how I appreciate the fact that I can be open with you. I feel like you're the only person who truly gets me...not just here in the Devildom, but even compared to those in the Human realm. The anemone...well, it has different meanings, but I'm using it to show that...I can't wait to find my way back to you."

The human was now blushing though not as much as the demon in front of them.

"Basically...I wanna say that I'm glad I'm your Henry and I'll always look forward to finding my way back to you...Levi?"

The man was tearing up.

"Sh-Shut up, Normie...I'm not crying..."

MC laughed and leaned in to kiss their boyfriend.

Yeah...they're happy to be his Henry 💕

Satan:

Gives him a bouquet of Purple Irises (symbolising eloquence, wisdom, and compliments) and Tulips (signifies a declaration of love and symbolizes perfect love).

Met the fourth brother in the library for their weekly study session.

Satan has been helping MC with some of their harder classes and in turn, the two had been spending a lot more time together

Which made it only too easy for the human to fall for him.

"Satan?"

The blonde looked up from the textbook he was skimming through in search of the correct page and raised an eyebrow as he saw MC standing before him, fidgeting in place and head down while hiding something behind their back.

"Is there something you need help with?"

"N-No...I..." The Human bit their lip. "Um...do you know anything about flower language?"

"Floriography? I suppose I know a fair amount." The demon watched them closely. "Do you have any questions based on the language?"

"No, I mean--" MC quickly shoved the bouquet in his face, their own face glowing a bright red. "Please accept these..."

The blonde took the flowers in confusion, staring down at them. Once he identified the flowers in the bouquet, a blush swept across his face, but was quickly replaced by a grin.

"Well now, why don't you tell me what these flowers mean to you?"

"D-Don't you know what they mean already?"

"I'd rather hear it from your lips, Kitten."

The human covered their face when they heard the new nickname.

"Kitten, I cannot accept these if you won't tell me their meaning."

MC lowered their hands.

"I...they..." The human mumbled. "The purple irises are to...well, thank you for your help and show that I really...really admire how knowledgeable you are. And...a-and the tulips..."

"And what about the tulips?"

"Please stop teasing me..."

The blonde chuckled before setting the bouquet on the table next to them and pulling MC close.

"Alright then. My answer is that I feel the same way, Kitten."

"Really?!"

The demon goes to fetch a vase for the flowers to sit on the table with them as they study.

Asmodeus:

Gives him of a bouquet of White Lilies (symbolising modesty and virginity), Aster (symbolising patience), purple lilac (symbolising first love), and Anemone (which mainly has negative symbolism to it, but can also be used to to symbolize anticipation in a positive interpretation).

The Avatar of Lust went to his room to change out of his school uniform and found the human sitting on his bed with the bouquet.

"Aww, Doll!"

The man rush over and squeeze the human in an embrace, carefully of the flowers.

"Oh you're so sweet! Getting me flowers like this!"

MC hid their face in their boyfriend's shoulder.

"Azzy...I have something to say."

"Okay~ what is it?"

MC pulled back and stared down at the flowers.

"I...do you know anything about Floriography?"

"Flower language? Oh, Doll, who do you think you're talking to? Of course~."

"Well...I used that for this bouquet."

"Ooo okay." The man gently took the bouquet from them. "Let's see then~ I see Lilies and Asters. Oh! A couple lilacs-- I love you two, Dolly."

He leaned in and kissed them.

"Oh and--" The smile that had been on his face suddenly fell when he spotted the anemone. "Dolly...is something wrong?"

The human started tugging on their sleeves.

"I'm sorry..."

"Hey...come here."

The demon laid the bouquet on the bed and pulled MC back into his arms. Face buried back into his shoulder, the man stroked his human's hair.

"It's okay. You know you can talk to me, right?"

MC didn't speak at first, just let their boyfriend's gentle comfort calm them for a bit.

"I...I'm sorry." They mumbled again. "I've probably just been overthinking. I just...it wouldn't leave my mind so even though it's hard to say, I knew I needed to talk about it and I thought it'd be easier with the flowers..."

"It's okay, Dolly. Take your time; I'm right here."

The demon kissed the top of the human's head.

"I just...you've been really good about not pushing me into...ya know...that next step. And I really appreciate it and everything because I've never done anything like that before. You're the first person I've ever dated, the first person I've ever fallen in love with...you've been my first date, my first kiss...and I want you to have my next first, but I'm still anxious about it. I feel bad though; I feel like I'm disappointing you since you're the Avatar of Lust and I just--"

"Oh Honey no!" The man didn't mean to interrupt them; he simply couldn't hold his words in anymore. "It's not like that at all. I'm with you for you, not your body. I can wait as long as you need me to."

He pulled away so he could look them in the eyes.

"I'm not going to be disappointed because you're not ready. We can wait as long as you need, okay?"

"Are...are you sure?"

"Of course, Doll. I don't want you to feel pressured into it. When we take that next step, I want it to be just beautiful and memorable for you as it will be for me and not something you feel obligated to do, okay?"

The Avatar of Lust finds a vase for the flowers and sets them on his vanity before cuddling up with the human in bed, keeping them close and murmuring sweet compliments and praises in their ear.

Asmo can wait. As long as he can hold his Dolly close and love them with all of his heart, he could wait a million years for them if that's what they needed.

Beelzebub:

Gives him a bouquet of Sunflowers (symbolising adoration, dedication, and dedicated love) and Peonies (symbolic of bashfulness, but also a happy life, happy marriage, and prosperity).

MC was too excited to give it to him so they waited outside of House of Lamentation for him to come back from practice.

"Beel! Beely come look!"

The redhead smiled at their Muffin and quickened his steps until he was right next to them.

"Here~." MC proudly presented the bouquet to him.

"It's very pretty. Thank you." Beel took the bouquet before leaning down and kissing the human.

"It's more than a bouquet though! It has symbolic meaning."

The demon raised.

"What's it mean then?"

MC blushed a bit before diverting their gaze from their boyfriend--or rather their fiancé since his proposed recently, hence why they made this bouquet for him.

"It's just...another way of saying I hope we'll always be happy together."

The big guys smiled before picking up his Muffin and kissing their forehead.

"I know we will, Muffin. Always."

Belphegor:

Gives him a bouquet of Statices (symbolizes remembrance and sympathy) and Red Roses (symbolising a deep love).

Sleepy boy woke up so confused when he found the flower basically shoved in his face.

"...What the hell am I looking at?"

"Flowers."

"No duh, Butthead." He pushed the flowers away, looking up at his Human. "I mean, why do you have them?"

"They're for you."

The man sighed.

"Fine..." He took the bouquet and set it on the other side of the bed before pulling MC down to him so they could lay together.

"Belphie, there's a point to them; they have meaning."

The man's eyes were already closed, ready to go back to sleep.

"Yeah? What?"

Silence. Avatar of Sloth cracked open an eye and saw his Human's expression weighed down with sadness.

"What's wrong?" Both eyes opened, he tightened his hold on them.

"It's...it's my way asking you to let it go."

Now it was the demon's turn to go silent.

Since the Incident™️, Belphie's been extra protective of them, but simultaneously really distant and harsh? It's been a back and forth sort of thing and even when they started dating, the trend stayed.

MC knew that he was just afraid of hurting them again. Sometimes he felt that keeping them close was for the best and others, he felt like pushing them away was. This back and forth was all because of the guilt that he carried.

Nervous, the human continued.

"The roses represent how much I love you and the statices...to show that even though I have not forgotten, I understand why you did it and I'm not upset. I forgave you instantly because I knew the pain you were in. I just...now I need you to forgive yourself, Belphie."

The demon buried his face in their neck.

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Oh...I'm sorry."

Belphie pulled back and gave the human a small kiss.

"Don't apologize for everything." He kissed them again. "You didn't do anything wrong."

It will take a lot more than a bouquet to make their boyfriend's guilt disappear, but the love and care behind it...the demon felt it, even if he didn't say it out loud.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

Call My Name

Summary: “I don’t know what to do I think I’m falling for you.”

Author's Note: Back with my longest update for this story, almost 10k!! I have only written that much for a chapter for IOTNBO, I’m so proud and excited. It’s thanks to many of you who have been messaging me to let me know how much you appreciate my story and those of you who are making artwork in any capacity based on my story, I am honored thank you!! I battled a lot with the ending but finally I just went with my gut, the characters wanted to act this way and who am I to fight it? I hope you enjoy and I will see you again in the next chapter! Amazing header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl every time I see it I can’t help but smile. Thank you endlessly.

She checks the time on her phone again, for no particular reason just curious about how much time has passed since she last checked. Five minutes. Interesting, she'll make sure to check again to see if her hypothesis is correct, that time seems to move slower in Ju-Kyung's house it feels as if they have been sitting here for hours yet her phone is displaying something completely different and there has to be a scientific explanation for that.

"You acted like you didn't want him to have your phone number but now you won't stop checking your phone." Su-ah teases across the room, hanging upside with her feet on the wall as her fingers move across her own endlessly buzzing phone. She's not jealous about that, not at all.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was just checking the time." She replies coolly pushing the phone away from her with complete disinterest.

She states blankly back at twin penetrating stares of disbelief, rolling her eyes she lowers her head onto the table picking at the skin on her index finger.

"I told you to stop doing that!" Ju-Kyung admonishes grabbing her hands and halting her abuse, they are hideous to look at the skin peeling all over no amount of lotion can rectify the damage she's done. They are one of the reasons she loves winter, she has a bounty of gloves to hide them from view. Self-consciously she tries to twist them away, they look even worst next to the soft plush skin of Ju-Kyung, who consistently moisturizes the appendages.

"Just leave them. They're ugly anyway."

The other girl ignores her bringing out the hand cream she's seen so many times, she simply sighs when the thick lotion is rubbed into her brittle skin. They both know that this is pointless because she'll soon wash away any benefits but Ju-Kyung is always persistent and she's given up on fighting with her. With a light pat and triumphant hum, Ju-Kyung releases her.

"There. Don't they look beautiful?"

They don't. Out of all the things she hates about herself and that lists grows more abundant everyday, her hands are high on the list. They make her feel hideous and as if anything she touches will also lose its beauty. A twisted nightmare inducing Midas touch.

She doesn't reply beyond shoving them into the pocket of her blazer.

"Su-jin?" Su-ah calls from behind her, sounding more serious than she's used to. She tightens in anticipation, barely turning her head.

"Are you okay? I've been giving you space but I want to know what's wrong. What happened at school?"

Her chest constricts painfully, she's not ready for this conversation possibly will never be but if she refuses will they shut her out? Will she be abandoned? Fear rushes through her veins at the very idea of being without them.

She forces herself to speak, "I...its-- what....I"

The words are lodged in her throat choking her until it's hard to breathe, she starts wheezing and then she's wrapped up in a tight hug, her last bit of oxygen squeezed from her body.

"Shhhh. It's okay. We love you, don't cry." Su-ah coos at her, stroking her head and mumbling soothing words into her ear. Ju-Kyung wipes away ardent tears she hadn't realized had fallen, her smooth hands soft on Su-jin’s wet skin.

"I can't. I'm sorry, not yet. Please don't go." For once she says exactly what's in her heart, people leave that's her reality but not them, she can't lose them death would be easier. So she begs tightening her once limp arms around Su-ah's small waist, clinging to the other girl like a weeping child. Her father has stolen everything she's ever loved from her, they couldn’t be another casualty.

"We're not going anywhere. We love you, no matter what. Nothing could change that."

She allows Su-ah to rock her back and forth, deep in her heart she knows those words aren't true, feelings change and once they figure out her secret, this love will fade and they'll grow apart; pity is the kiss of death. Once they know how truly pathetic she is they won't be able to look at her, she'll just be a broken doll that needs to be fixed.

"We love you."

Sure, but for how long?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Becoming Sujin's friend wasn't easy she can remember the day she first saw the abnormally beautiful girl, she looked like a character out of a Korean drama with her perfect round face and effortless style. She'd simply stared in awe, too dazed to approach the other girl. When they crossed paths in the hallway she watched the other girl intently, she decided in that moment they had to be friends.

It was like destiny, they ended up in the same class and she started to follow the other girl around smiling warmly every time those cool eyes would look at her in question. She sat near her in the cafeteria and greeted her every morning, yet she was no closer to becoming her friend still skirting the edge of acquaintance.

Then one day out of the blue for the first time the other girl approached her, her face expressionless but the air around her was frigid. She gulped watching her draw nearer until they were face to face.

"What do you want from me?" She blinked at the unexpected question, rolling it over in her mind and still not coming up with an answer.

"What?" Was her eloquent reply, she was finally having a conversation with her dream friend and she couldn't get her thoughts together.

"You're always following me. Do you want something from me?"

She thought it was blatantly obvious what she desired from the other girl but she smiled before replying, "Friendship. I want to be your friend."

She'd never seen the other girl look confused before, her eyes got wider and her lips almost disappeared from how tightly she was twisting her mouth.

"Why?"

Her first reaction was to laugh because it sounded like a joke, who wouldn't want to be Sujin's friend she was one of the smartest and prettiest girls in the school but something about the look on her face told Su-ah those answers wouldn't suffice. The other girl was peering at her with deep searching eyes, waiting for her response.

Shrugging she didn't overthink her reply, choosing not to list the many reasons and going with the most basic, "I like you."

It was her first platonic confession, she almost blushed at the words and the potential misunderstandings but Sujin simply looked at her before walking away without another word. She sighed thinking she'd scared the other girl away, walking home crestfallen.

But the next day, Sujin said good morning to her first for the first time ever and they walked to class and as they say the rest was history, they became each other's confidant and best friend. Sujin, the first person to know about her crush on Tae-hoon, always there to wipe her tears after their countless break ups.

Su-jin is like a sister and that is why her breakdown feels even worst, she doesn't know what's going on, has never seen her best friend cry before. Su-jin isn't one to be open about her emotions, her smiles are as elusive as her tears. So her heart aches as Sujin shakes in her arms, wishing she knew what was hurting the girl this deeply so she could rescue her.

"I'll go wash my face." She's reluctant to let the other girl go but she knows the intricacies of her brilliant mind, knows that she's embarrassed and mentally ripping herself apart. Unwrapping her arms she lets her go, tears pooling in her eyes watching her friend suffer.

Quickly brushing the moisture away she turns to Ju-Kyung who isn't faring much better, dark mascara lines dripping down her cheeks. She laughs sadly wiping at the marks with her thumbs before pulling her fingers back and wiping them on her jacket.

"I'm sorry I'm crying, I know we need to be strong for her." Ju-Kyung apologizes but more stubborn tears rolls down her face and she hugs her tightly, needing the comfort herself.

"You're allowed to cry. We'll be there for her until she's ready to tell us what's wrong."

They nod and hug each other weeping for their friend who so solemnly weeps for herself.

It shocks them both when a loud vibration penetrates the silence of the room, the noisy disturbance makes them jump apart before they both glance at the phone on the table before looking at each other.

"Do you think it's...."

"What if it's.."

They speak at the same time and that's the exact moment that the door creaks open and Sujin arrives with red-rimmed eyes her hair now pulled back in a low ponytail.

Su-ah looks at the phone with wide eyes before looking at Sujin, then back to the phone before smiling innocently, "You should check the time."

Sujin doesn't react at first, standing completely still before she takes a hesitant step forward as if the phone has transformed into a bomb. Gingerly lifting it up she wipes go unlock the screen, trying to look unbothered her movements exaggeratedly slow. Su-ah sees right through her, sees the way her fingers twitch and how she takes a deep breath before opening the message.

She watches Sujin's face for a reaction, a smile or frown but there's no reaction until she huffs and throws the phone away with a sharp whisper, "That idiot. What the hell is that?"

Without asking for permission, they know each other's passwords there isn't much privacy between the three of them, she picks up the discarded phone, eyes bulging at the message before she starts to giggle. It was exactly who they thought and his first message to her is an image and the words, saw this and thought of you.

She grins at the message, wondering if Seojun knows how flirty the message reads. He'd openly let Sujin know that she was on his mind. She'd spontaneously decided to save Sujin under that name in his phone Ju-Kyung had told her about their interesting conversation and the pet name, then he used it again at the gate and she couldn't resist. What girl didn't like being called a princess?

"If he calls me that one more time I'm going to break his motorcycle." She winces at the threat, shifting her eyes. Okay, it seemed there was one girl. She needs to tell Seojun to never mention to Sujin that she was the one to save her under "princess" she had helped him get her number after all, they were practically friends now. He couldn’t throw her under the bus.

"Are you going to answer?" He wants to know if you want him to buy it for you." She giggles at the new message gasping when Sujin snatches the phone from her hands, she looks over at Ju-Kyung with a raised eyebrow at the show. They both watch with conspiring smiles as the commonly emotionless girl angrily throws herself into the bed and starts animatedly tapping on her screen.

She's never looked more alive.

It's the universe righting itself when she hears Ju-Kyung's mother yell up the stairs.

"Ju-Kyung, tell your friend Su-jin her father is here to pick her up."

Ju-Kyung's mother says the words upbeat, mumbling about doting fathers and harshly hitting her husband on the back of his head as she wonders to the kitchen. She schools her face into a plastic smile, despite the fear gripping at her and making it hard to focus. But she can't show any cracks in her display today, too much has happened and she can't allow anyone to be suspicious. They have to believe that her father is a loving man who picks up his daughter out of the goodness of his heart.

He almost looks normal smiling serenely in the doorway, even lifting a hand to wave at her. Cold ice chills run down her spine at the terrifying action.

"Why didn't you tell your mother and I you were going to a friend's house? We were worried sick about you."

She can hear the threat coded in those words, how dare you go anywhere without my permission, she rushes to his side knowing every minute she wastes he will punish her for. She'd inconvenienced him by making him pick her up. He would make her regret that decision.

Bowing to Ju-Kyung and her family, avoiding Su-ah's watchful eyes she rapidly puts on her shoes watching as her father bows as well thanking Ju-Kyung's parents for allowing her to stay so late and when they turn he grips her tightly all but dragging her out the door. His coat blocks the treatment from view and she grunts when he swings the car door open and tosses her roughly inside.

Slamming his door shut he glares over at her, "Do you know how hard it was finding this dirty shit hole of a house? Are you befriending anyone now? This is the kind of person you've deemed worthy of being seen with, you're a Kang for God's sake!"

She swallows her angry, desperately wanting to defend Ju-Kyung but his hands curled tightly in fists make her stifle her argument. Instead she bows her head quietly, letting him spew acid dripping words at her.

"You're not allowed to come here again. My daughter can't be seen with the help."

She anxiously claws at her hands in her lap, jumping when he yells in the confined space of the car.

"Answer me now! Do you understand!"

Staring out the window she replies, voice empty.

"Yes."

He doesn't wait for her to tug on her seat belt before driving off, done talking to her since she listened to his order.

When they finally walk through the front door she flinches when he grabs her arm suddenly, he rolls his eyes as if she's being dramatic. Seeming to get gratification from pressing his fingers deeper into her skin, she grits her teeth through it all.

"Don't flinch like that around others or I'll make you regret it. Tomorrow you are going on a date with a son of a very powerful man, make sure you hide all your bruises."

This time she can't stay silent, rage bursting to the surface.

"I don't want to go on a date with anyo--"

The smack of his open palm across her forehead drives her entire head to the side, her neck snapping so hard she imagines this is what it feels like to have whiplash.

"You shut your fucking mouth! Did it look like I was asking you a question? You will go on this date." His voice is hard and impenetrable, when her mother limps out with a black eye she gasps in shock unprepared for the gruesome sight.

Mom.

"Look what you made me do to your mother. You better start obeying me again or things will get worst."

She's been selfish, she is knew what would happen to her mother when she didn't come home, knew that her father's fury would need an outlet but she couldn't bring herself to come here. Knowing what her fate would be didn't make her any else scared.

"You need to listen to your father."

She can't bear to look her mother in the eyes, she's been thrown to the wolves too many times to feel true sympathy for the woman who gave birth to her. They are both victims, that much she knows but she can't help the anger that has been present since she was young begging her mother to save her.

She knows now, nobody can save anyone else. If you can't save yourself you're as good as dead.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He knows he can't be upset with Ju-Kyung or Su-ah, they are unaware of what their friend is going through but dread fills his stomach when Ju-Kyung tells him that Sujin was no longer there, her father had picked her up.

He slams a fist into his pillow, wanting nothing more to smash the man's face in he's never seen the bastard before but he knows that he would hate him on sight. He was a coward and a bully and he could not stand those who picked on others, they were the scum of the earth.

He sends her another unanswered text message reading her last message to him.

Delete my number, I don't want to talk to you.

She hadn't been amused by the sparkly purple tiara, he'd seen it on display in a children's store and immediately her regal scowl popped up in his mind. He hadn't thought about it before snapping a photo and sending it to her. That had been hours ago and still nothing from her after a heated debate about whether or not she was a princess.

Sighing in exasperation he sends another message.

Let me know if you're okay.

He's sent five other unread messages, all variations of this message worry making him break all his rules about texting the opposite gender.

He glares at the phone as if it's to blame, tossing himself onto this bed and dragging a pillow across his face to groan into.

Almost choking on the cloth of his pillow he shoves it away when his phone finally vibrates on his stomach, eagerly opening it he smiles at the message on the screen.

I'm okay.

She's lying, he's certain of that he's seen the bruises first-hand without makeup lessening the effect. But she's cognizant enough to send him a message and despite the hell she must be going through she cared enough about him worrying to reply, something unfamiliar flutters in his belly. He writes it off as indigestion and flops into his pillow before sending his final message to her.

I’ll see you tomorrow, princess.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He's wondering the halls aimlessly sneering at everyone who looks his way, he doesn't mean to be this moody really didn't mean to snap at Chorong but he can't help it, Sujin is absent her empty seat mocking him in class so he had to escape. He's lost count at the amount of messages he's sent at this point, none of them have been read. He growls at the radio silence, he hates being ignored and when she's the one doing the ignoring his frustration only builds. He doesn't bother analyzing why.

"You look ready to kill the next person who stares at you the wrong way."

He glances at the near monotonous tone behind him, turning to face Suho. He doesn't know how the other boy was allowed to leave the classroom when he currently has the hall pass but rules are usually broken for the star student, he scoffs at the privilege. Nobody ever calls him a troublemaker though.

"Being a brainiac sure comes with perks." He drawls leaning against the wall.

Suho guiltlessly shrugs, crossing his forearms before grabbing his arm. He doesn't fight the grip allowing himself to be pulled, maybe this will distract him from his thoughts.

"Where are we going?"

Suho doesn't answer but he drags him up the stairs leading to the rooftop, he's instantly reminded of the last time he was here. Her tears warming his chest as she shook apart in his arms. He mentally groans, he’s supposed to be forgetting her why can’t he get her out of his mind?

"You know don't you?" Suho gently states, letting his arm fall between them and staring at him with sure eyes. He peers back squinting in response, uncertain if the other boy is truly alluding to what he thinks. He doesn't say a word, Sujin would never forgive him if he uttered her secret to anyone, he'd never betray her trust regardless of if she's fully given that to him.

"Know what?" He states slowly , watching his friend’s every move.

"About her father."

A deer caught in headlights, if you looked up that saying his face would be the accompanying image.

Forcing his jaw close, he shakes his head staring at Suho suspiciously.

"You knew."

Suho must feel his judgement because his face hardens before he looks away, "I did."

"Why didn't you do anything?" It's not his place but he can't help his vexation, how long had the other boy known and done nothing?

"We were......young. I slept over, I fell asleep on the couch and I heard him. The next morning she had a split lip and her father told me she accidentally fell down the stairs."

Disgusts winds through his chest at the story, this had been her life since she was a child. While he'd been mourning the loss of his own father, Sujin was being beaten and abused by her own. They were both fatherless.

"I felt guilty every day. I didn't know who to tell, her father was close friends with my dad and I didn't think he would believe me and...... I hated him. After my mom died I hated him so much. I didn't want to ask him for help."

He wants to scream, "What about Sujin? Couldn't you see her pain? Wasn't that enough to put your pride aside?"

But he doesn't because it won't do Sujin any good and Suho has been through his own trauma, he learned that his words have power and despite his anger he doesn't want to hurt his friend, never again.

"It's not your fault." He means it, they were both children. But he just wishes that Sujin had someone back them, that she knew that what was happening wasn't her fault. He just wishes he'd been there.

But he can't turn back time, no matter how desperately he wants to. All he can do is treasure the time he has now.

Her knows what he needs to do.

"I need a favor."

Suho stares at him before slowly nodding.

But not before asking his own question, "Why do you care so much?"

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The question spins around in circles in his head, no answer offering itself.

"Do you..... like her?" Suho cautiously inquires searching his face to see if he gives anything away. He doesn't try to hide his emotions.

"That's not important. She needs someone, I've decided to be that person."

The other boy looks at him like he's a puzzle he can't figure out but he nods as if that answer is enough. He'll store that question away for further inspection on his own.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There's no guarantee that this will work but he stands awkwardly on the sidewalk peering up at the intimidating mansion, it makes his own apartment look like a child's toy. Inadequacy pricks at his ego before he shoves it to the crevice of his mind, this isn't about him.

The driveway is empty that was a good sign. He hadn't thought ahead to what he would do if her father had been home, he wouldn't be able to control his rage. It's a blessing that he won't have to make that decision today.

Pulling out his phone he stares at her number before pressing the call button. It rings and rings and he's sure she's going to ignore him as she's been doing all day, he moves to hang up and call her back when he hears silence and then a quiet, "Why do you keep calling?"

He lets out a sigh of triumph, punching a fist into the air.

Collecting himself he states breezily into the phones, "When people call someone they usually have something to say princess."

Her reaction is immediate, "I told you not to call me that."

"I remember when you told me." He replies cheekily, unable to fight the smile that grows hearing her annoyance permeating through the line, just happy to hear her voice at all.

"Then why do you keep calling me that?" She tightly replies, sounding like she could turn a coal into a diamond in her mouth.

"It suits you."

"Why? Because I'm rich and spoiled?"

"No. Because you're pretty." He hears himself say, wondering if he's been possessed because he's thought that before looking at the girl he was still a man and he had eyes but he's never planned on saying his inner thoughts out loud.

It takes a moment to realize she hasn't responded, scared she finally hung up he cries out, "Hey! Are you still there?"

Another long pause drags out and he becomes really worried that she's gone after taking so long to get her to answer, maybe everyone's right and he's an idiot.

"Don't say stupid things like that." There's something about her voice, it sounds higher than he's used to and he wonders if maybe she's embarrassed. Maybe even blushing. He'd pay real money to see that sight.

Not wanting to push his luck any further he powers on, resisting the urge to ask if she's blushing. She wouldn't be honest with him anyway.

"Come outside I have something for you."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She contemplates what she should do as she peers down at her phone. His name and number flash on her phone as the phone locks itself. She'd begrudgingly saved his number when it became clear that he had no intention of leaving her alone. Nobody besides Su-ah had ever texted her this frequently, she was earning scarily that she didn't hate it. Although she hardly replied, not knowing how to maintain a text conversation.

Su-ah had teasingly said she should save the boy as prince, so that they could match. She rolled her eyes at the suggestion, Su-ah was so cheesy sometimes they weren't a couple why would they need matching names? Instead she'd saved him as "do not answer" but she'd already broken that rule, she realized appalled at her lack of control.

Losing more control she sighs before crawling out of bed, not bothering to put on makeup to hide the mark on her forehead, he had seen worst. Her father left after taking her to the doctor, regaling another story of her clumsiness and they walked out with cream, powerful enough to ensure that no scar would be left behind. Nobody wanted scarred goods he explained.

The closer she gets to the door the faster her heart beats, how did he know where she lived? They had never discussed that and why did he come all the way here? Didn't he have anything better to do than stalk her? Taking a calming breath she reaches the front door, she can hear her frantic heart beats thumping in her ears.

She turns the door knob, pausing at the sight of his back. The sun is shining brightly outside, the direct opposite of her gloomy dark home. It was a sin for the day to be this beautiful when her life is so damn ugly. With the sun streaking his hair hues of dark brown he turns to face her.

She feels uncomfortable at the rush on emotions that bleeds across his face.

"Don't."

He looks at her quizzically, perplexed by her strange seemingly unprovoked request.

"Just don't.. emote so much."

Of course he doesn't listen, a smile stretching across his face as he steps closer to her. Reaching out with gentle fingers he brushes against the bandage on her forehead.

"Are you okay?"

He’s always asking her that.

She doesn't feel like lying at the moment, not with his gentle hands and soft eyes beaming at her.

She mutely shakes her head in decline. She doesn't miss how he freezes as if shocked by her honesty. He's not the only one.

"Is that why you didn't come to school?" His voice is barely a whisper now, as if they're sharing a secret only for their ears.

It's a question that doesn't need an answer so she chooses not to respond.

"What did you want to give me?" She breaks the moment, taking a step back until his fingers fall from her skin.

He stares at her for a moment before leaning forward, dangerously close and she tries to retreat but her feet are stuck to the floor as she watches his face get closer to her own. His hands reach over her shoulder and she tilts her head up to follow him, as he lowers his head and her heart skips as realization washes over her, he's going to kiss her. His lips are right there, supple and pink looming closer as her own drop open in surprise and....anticipation? She registers that he's going to kiss her and she might want him to. No. She does, she never knew she wanted this so ardently until it was just a breath away. And now she can't think of anything else but his lips on hers.

She's never been kissed before, never wanted to be either. In second grade and unlucky boy had tried to force a kiss on her, chasing her around the playground puckering his lips and tugging at her skirt. He'd only been able to kiss the sole of her shoe has she launched into a perfectly executed round house kick, shocking him more than hurting him but she'd been placed in time out for a week with no playtime or recess, she had felt no remorse. All the other boys who used to eye her with interest now looked terrified after that incident, no one ever tried to steal a kiss from her again.

She waits for her body's natural defense to kick in and for that itch under her skin to buzz, but it never comes because she doesn't feel unsafe. Knows that he won't hurt her despite her constant dismissal here he is, once again demanding a space in her sham of life. Instead of fear, nerves ravages her body as she pants loudly staring at his mouth only inches away. Is she allowed to want? She's never had the luxury before to desire such trivial things, it overwhelms her. Shocked by her own thinking and the dawning of feelings she didn't ask to have, she scurries backwards covering her mouth with her hands. Now that she knows that she desires this, she can't have it. She can't taint him with her darkness.

"What are you doing?"

He's smirking with a bag now in his hand intensely watching her and she feels transparent, he's looking straight through her and urge to hide is overbearing.

Turning around she sees his motorcycle and she almost laughs at her unnecessary mental break down.

He hadn't been trying to kiss her. That was merely a fantasy she created in her mind, whatever this was it wasn't romantic. Who could want something as broken and worthless as her, but more importantly her life was not her own to do what she desired. She was an object in her father's plan, a pawn that he could move as he saw fit. It was a mistake to yearn or even ponder, her fate had been decided long before she was born.

She shouldn't be here, should have never read his message or saved his number she's playing a dangerous game and in the end she'll be the one most damaged. She turns away, rushing to the door no longer curious about his gift. Curiosity is a privilege she isn't allowed.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He grabs her wrist, not scared to touch today. Her body is burning from all the spots he's already set aflame since he arrived.

"Let go!" She tugs her arm away and he sets her free at her barest resistance, but he leaves no space between towering over her and refusing to let her break eye contact. His cologne is distracting. Everything about him is.

"What were you expecting?" She fights the urge to blush as he glances down at her lips before focusing on her eyes.

"Nothing. I wasn’t expecting anything.” She will ensure that she doesn’t in the future, it’s not a lie but rather an oath to herself.

He stares at her unblinking, its unnerving and she squirms under the hard appraisal.

“Don’t you want to see your gift?” She shakes her head no, but it seems the question was rhetoric because he doesn’t wait for her answer or acknowledge when she refuses.

“I told you this reminded me of you.” He purrs softly, she’s never heard his voice like this. It’s so soft that it can barely be considered a whisper, he always acts like she is something fragile. She doesn’t know how to feel about it.

There's a rustle of a bag opening and then a weight on her head, reaching up she feels hard plastic and ridges and bumps. She knows what it is and she doesn't know how to respond, nothing has ever prepared her for this moment. She’d hidden it well while sitting in Ju-Kyung’s room looking at the child’s tiara, pretended to be annoyed to cover up the way her skin was sticky hot and sweaty.

When she was younger she had wanted a princess birthday party, with all the trimmings and decorations her eyes sparkled as she told her parents still full of hope and innocence then, believing that she could have anything she wanted if she asked. Her father’s guffaw had shattered that fantasy.

“We will not have a childish gathering, very important people will be there. You are not going to embarrass me.”

In the end there was no theme to her birthday and she didn’t get to wear the sparkling tiara she’d seen so many other little girls don on their birthday, she had no friends to invite and she sat alone and abandoned in her room.

And now, years later there is almost an identical replica sitting on her head. She sniffles looking hard at the ground, blinking rapidly but knowing it’s already too late.

“I told you to stop. Why won’t you listen? Just stop.” She’s crying now, there’s no way to hide the tears barreling down her cheeks. He looks taken back, hands reaching out for her and then dropping before reaching again.

“Sujin.”

Hearing him say her name instead of the persistent nickname only makes her sob harder, crying for the younger version of herself that just wanted to be loved and was beaten everyday instead. Wishing that Sujin had this, had someone who was willing to stay, who wanted to be there. She wouldn’t have dealt with such crippling loneliness.

“I have to go back inside.” She turns to unlock her door, scared of him and everything building between them.

He doesn’t stop her this time, she can feel his eyes heavy on her back and she halts when he calls out.

“Just.....don’t ignore my messages okay?”

She inhales, wiping at the wet sheet of tears on her face. She should ignore him, he is “do not answer” for a reason.

She nods slowly, “I won’t.” The scariest part is that she means it.

“Good. Come to school tomorrow, it’s boring without you.”

She doesn’t reply and closes the door without turning back, using it has support when her legs finally give out inside. All of her strength suddenly depleted.

She walks straight to her room, sitting at her large vanity looking back at a reflection of a girl she can't recognize.

The purple tiara sits ridiculously on top of her head, all flashy plastic rhinestones and glitter, something out of a child's dream. Her dream. She brings one trembling finger to touch it and without her permission her face breaks into a smile, it's small and fleeting but accompanied with the rosy blush on her cheeks she stares in shock at the face that looks so much like her but can't be.

"Who are you?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Seojun slips on his helmet roughly, he plans on texting her and making sure she keeps her promise. His heart is still recovering from her reaction to retrieving the gift, it was apparent she assumed something else was occurring. It almost looked like she thought he was going to kiss her but she hadn’t moved away, not right away. Did that mean.....

The engine of a sounds behind him shocks him out of his dangerous inklings and he twists his head to see sleek SUV pulling into the hidden garage, the metallic door lifting up to house the vehicle. He doesn’t move, eyes locked on the car. Hands tightening on the armbars he waits impatiently but determined. When the door finally opens and an older man steps out, shorter than him with salt and pepper hair and glasses on his weathered face his blood boils all at once.

“Can I help you? Do you have business here?”

Taking a deep grounding breath, he slides a leg over his motorcycle and revs it to life the rumbling engine calming his homicidal thoughts.

He will never forget this face, he looks like a normal middle-aged man nothing revealing the evil that lurks inside. Menacingly he slowly raises his hand, extending his pointer and lifting his thumb, darkly satisfied when a look of surprise flashes on the older man's face.

"Bang." He pulls back his finger sharply, and now the man is walking angrily towards him but he's ready for this and he twists the throttle and speeds off.

You're not going to hurt her anymore, I'll make sure if it.

The bike thundering beneath him echoes the powerful intent in his mind.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Her father’s pounding on her door shocked her so much the tiara fell off her head as she jolted, she'd carefully picked it up and hid it in a draw fiercely protective of the object already. She knew she shouldn’t keep it but she can’t imagine throwing it away.

Just for a little bit.

"You're meeting someone tomorrow, you'll go right after school. Stop at a store and buy an outfit, something fitting for a date. His father is someone I need on my side, don't mess this up."

She'd sat numb at her father's callous words, he clearly had no issue using his only child to gain favors from others.

"Oh and one more thing, I saw some delinquent outside he even threatened me. You better not know who that punk is. If I ever see him around here again I'll call the police."

That comment has been replaying in her mind all day, he shouldn't have come over yesterday and she shouldn't have humored him by going outside. She kept forgetting rationality around him and it would get them both in danger, her father had all but promised that.

After some careful consideration, she decides to seek him out because school is the safest place they can interact without her father knowing.

He's not in the classroom and she tries to think about where else the boy might be, he's usually never too far from her and she realizes that she hasn't seen him today besides their morning classes. He'd seemed distant then, barely looking at her before drooping off to sleep.

After searching the entire school she's no closer to finding the boy and she sighs in exasperation, why is he so elusive today when she commonly can't get him to leave her alone?

Pulling out her phone, she hesitates for a second before mustering the courage.

Where are you?

Staring at the message she clicks the heel of her shoe, watching the message change from delivered and to read. Her stomach clenches as she waits to see his response, maybe he's already tired of her and finally decided to listen to her advice?

Hating the way her heart thumps in anticipation she moves to pocket her phone but before she can complete the movement, it vibrates to life in her hand.

She freezes.

It's foolish because she sent the first message and she's looking for him but now she's too nervous to check her phone.

Thinking of the soothing beating of his heart on that day, she feels her own heart calming.

Feeling fortified, she lifts the phone and with a sigh opens the message.

In the gym. Why? You miss me?

Is this what this emotion is? This gnawing feeling in her chest when she couldn't find him, it can't be right? They are nothing to each other, correction she's nothing to him.

So no, she can’t miss him.

She clears her thoughts as she walks to the gym, wondering why she never considered looking there.

Sweat and musk clings in the air when she presses the double doors open and all eyes shift to her instantly, slipping on her mask she suppresses the nerves lurking behind her placid stare.

Meeting his eyes across the room, she can't help but notice how sweaty he looks his fringe sticking to his forehead and a droplet rolls down his forearm. Swallowing deeply she closes the gap between them, peering up at him. Discomforted at the way she feels when he slowly smiles at her.

"We need to talk." She doesn't wait for his answer, grabbing his wrist and tugging him from the room. Pretending she doesn't feel all the eyes watching their every movement, everyone needs to just mind their own business.

When they're outside, away from the audience she releases his arm. His heat warming her own cool palm. Suddenly he grabs her hand, twisting them and stroking at the raw shredded skin.

She snatches her hand away harshly, glaring at him. But his angry stare douses her own, a thick vein protrudes from his forehead.

"Did he do this to you? He growls, his fists tightening into balls again.

She stares at him in confusion, unprepared for the level of frustration he's exuding.

Feeling like honestly will be the best thing she shakes her head in decline, "No. I did this to myself."

Disgust. Malice. Contempt. She waits for any of those emotions to cover his face but he's never logical.

"Why?"

Concern. Always genuine concern.

She's never thought of the reason behind her strange compulsion, the desire to wash her hands overwhelming at times.

She's not ready to ponder the psychosis of her actions, not with him and not with herself.

"Did you see my father yesterday?" She changes the topic, regaining control over the conversation before he derails it too far off track.

His lips twists illustrating his displeasure at her obvious attempt to dodge his question but he looks away before replying.

"Yes. After you left, I saw him."

"Did he see your face?"

His eyes dart over her face, as he's searching for an answer to a question only he knows.

Slowly he drawls, "No. I had my helmet on. He didn't see me."

The same moment she releases a sigh of relief he cheekily asks, "Were you worried about me?"

Staring at his smirking face she feels her anger flare back to life passionately.

“Do you think this is a joke? He can destroy you! Stop acting without thinking about the consequences!” She whispers harshly at him, very aware of their precarious situation in the hallway and how easily rumors can spread in this god forsaken school.

“You are worried about me.” He looks even more pleased as he nods smugly.

“Are you insane? Did you listen to a word I said. Seojun, this isn’t a joke!”

He steps closer, eyes harden sharply like someone flipped a switch. “You don’t need to worry about me. He can’t do anything to me, I’m going to protect you.”

Protect her. No one has ever uttered those words to her, and she lets them wash over her before rejecting them, sneering at him with contempt at his brazen claim she says, “Stop saying nonsense. You need to worry about yourself.”

She walks away with her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

I’m going to protect you.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ju-Kyung and Su-ah are disappointed when she tells them that she can’t go with them for tteokbokki but they don’t ask her too many questions, easily believing her lie about going to night classes. She hates lying to them but there’s no way to explain what she’s doing without exposing too much about her father.

She rushes out of the school thankfully running into no one, not even a certain nosy shadow. He’s shrouded by his friends and girls who swoon at the sight of him looking in disdain she leaves the school, reminding herself this is how it’s supposed to be.

The boutique is expensive, a store associate greeting her at the door and showing her around immediately as if she can smell the money on her. She couldn’t care less about what she wears and she informs the clerk to choose whatever she thinks is appropriate for a date, the word poisonous on her tongue. It’s her first date and it’s with someone she has no amorous feelings for, someone she has never even met before. She walks out of the store with her uniform folded neatly in a bag as she decided to walk out in the new outfit. The clerk had chosen a soft lilac dress with chiffon ruffles lining the hem and shoulders, paired with a white heels and a matching bag. She allowed it because it felt nothing like her, she would have never chosen this for a date and that made her feel like she got to keep a little bit of herself, he wouldn’t be getting the real her.

She checks the address on her phone once more, walking to the street corner to hail a cab feeling like she’s off to an execution.

But that’s when she hears a feminine cry, looking around frantically she sees a young girl across the street surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves, high school boys. They are all laughing and rowdy, seemingly unbothered by the terrified wide gaze of their supposed prey. The cab driver beeps his horn at her impatiently and she ignores it, instinctively making her decision. Running across the street with no thought of her own safety, she smacks away a dirty paw that is reaching out for the trembling girl, her eyes made larger by the huge glasses resting on the bridge of her pert nose. She seems oddly familiar.

“What are you scum bags doing?” She steps in front of the girl shielding her from their unwanted attention.

They all cheer and holler, turning to jostle each other as if they have been given a gift.

With a smarmy smile, one of the boys steps forward pursuing her body with hungry eyes, “Well look here boys, we caught an ever better catch. Look at this sexy little thing.”

He grabs his palms together as they all shout in agreement and when she feels a hand on her wrist, she twists away pulling herself out her reach and swiftly kicks him in the knee he falls to the ground with a grunt of pain.

“What the fuck! You bitch!” He curses at her and another boy lunges forward to grab her but she easily ducks out of his reach and punches in in the chest. The other boys watch in clear astonishment, slowly retreating from her with their hands outreached trying to placate her.

“Hey, hey we’re sorry we were just messing with her. We’re going okay, calm down.”

But then she feels a hand on her ankle and she turns to dig her sharp heel into the offending hand, his scream of pain ringing pleasantly in her ears.

“Get out of my sight before I break your face.”

They all rush to follow her order, picking up their fallen friends on the ground hurling more curses in her direction but leaving with their tails between their legs, pathethic little vermin.

“Are you okay?” She turns to the younger girl with gentle eyes, looking over her body for any injuries and relaxing when she sees nothing out of place.

“Ye-s-s.” She stutters out looking at her with something akin to wonder and awe in her eyes, she shifts uncomfortably under the stare. She isn’t anyone’s hero, she just did what anyone would do.

“Okay. Get home safely. �� She starts to walk away but then a small hand grips her forearm, turning back with curious eyes she looks at the other girl waiting for her to explain.

“Thank you. This is the second time you’ve saved me.”

She looks at the other girl in confusion, taking in her face and those glasses and suddenly the memory resurfaces in her mind. The girl’s bathroom and all those jealous girls ganging up on her, breaking her down because she was better than them she hated those people the worst. Bullies that were so insecure that they lashed out and tried to hurt others, she had grown up seeing one her whole life.

“That was you.”

“You’re always saving me. Thank you so much.’

Shaking her head she replies, “I wasn’t the one who saved you that day. It as Ju-Kyung, I only came at the end. You don’t need to thank me.”

But the other girl ignores her and begins to bow deeply repeating her words of gratitude, she reaches out to bring her back up.

“Stop. You don’t need to do this.”

“Do you want to get some coffee?” She blinks at the sudden question, blinking and then staring some more.

“I just feel so grateful to you, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come. You’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I can do. Please.”

She checks her watch discretely, there is still some time before her “date” and looking at the round pleading eyes of the girl she feels her resolve weaken, sighing she goes against her good sense and nods.

“Okay, we can get some coffee. But I have another.....engagement.” She struggles to find the correct word for the sham of a date and settles on that. She would much rather call it a business transaction but that would yield too many questions.

The young girl beams at her, animatedly dragging her off her excited voice sweet and high as she praises a nearby coffee shop.

“My Oppa works there, he can give us free coffee!” She states with youthful entitlement evident in her tone, she has no doubt that she will be given what she wants. It must be nice.

The coffee shop is a quaint spot, she’s never noticed it before despite being in this area before. A bell rings announcing their arrival and they both walk up to the register.

“Oppa! I’m here!” The girl calls out, leaning easily across the counter with no sense of decency, there are no other customers in the store though so there’s no one to judge her and Sujin finds her behavior oddly cute, she’s quite the ball of energy.

“Oh, you’re here?”

A chill runs down her spine. She knows that voice. But it can’t be?

But life isn’t done making a mockery of her yet because Seojun turns around, coffee pot in his hand looking...interesting in his uniform she takes the image in greedily before forcing her eyes away.

“Can we have free coffee? This is my unnie Kang Sujin.”

“Unnie?” They both cry at the same time and the younger girl immediately grabs onto her arm, huge puppy eyes penetrating her face. “Can I call you unnie? You already saved me two times. I feel like you’re my guardian angel.”

She stands shocked by the girl’s admission but before the words are finished processing in her foggy mind, Seojun shouts out looking murderous “Saved you? Did someone try to bully you again? Who is it? I’ll kill them.”

Unsure of who she should reply to she just stares at them both like a fish on land. floundering around. They are both such forces of nature.

“I’m fine Oppa.” She watches the girl roll her eyes as if his behavior is common and something to be peeved about, “These boys were trying to bother me but unnie came and beat them up! It was like something out of a movie, they all ran away crying.” The girl tries to demonstrate the moves waving her arms and legs around wildly, almost knocking the coffee cup from her brother’s hand.

“Hey!” He yells in warning, moving the hot pot away. “Be careful before you hurt yourself.”

The younger girl looks chastised for merely a second before she’s announcing she needs to use the bathroom and running off, leaving them alone to stare after her.

Awkward silence remains in the wake of her departure.

She’s tempted to run away, he is the last person she wants to see right now.

“You really did that? For Go-woon ah?” His voice is soft, almost shy. For once he isn’t the same self-assured Seojun she’s used to see, he looks younger and the resemblance between the siblings is uncanny now with him looking at her with the same look of awe, his little sister had just minutes ago.

“I.....yes I helped her. They were idiots, I did for myself. They were an eye sore.”

But despite her dismissal, he smiles-toothy and ridiculously charming. It’s almost painful to look at, he shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that.

She stares at him lost in his smile and when he reaches out to grasp her hand, she doesn’t fight it helplessly leaning closer to meet him over the counter, their eyes are locked as the space between them shortens, their bodies moving as if they’re opposite ends of a magnet.

“Thank you for helping my sister.” He breathes out, his deep voice smooth and airy suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. He rubs a thumb across the expanse of her hand, and she forgets to be self-conscious and simply enjoys the tender caress.

“Oppa! Can we get free coffee or not? Why aren’t you making it?” Go-woon’s loud voice shatters the intimate moment as they both fly apart, she moves halfway across the room in her shock.

Go-woon looks between them both suspiciously, “Did I interrupt something? You both look guilty.”

“No!” They shout in sync again, Sujin groans realizes that this probably only serves at making them look even more guilty. Go-woon’s mischievous eyes confirm her thoughts.

“I’ll make your coffee. You can both have a seat.”

Go-woon starts to walk away to find a table, but she checks her watch again realizing she doesn’t have much time left if she’s going to be on time, she has to leave now.

“Can I have mine to go? I have to be somewhere and I’m almost late.”

Then Go-woon chirps in, “Me too oppa! I just realized I have to start a project, I should go home.”

He stares at them both blankly before shifting his gaze to Sujin, “Where are you going?” He asks finally taking in her outfit, his gaze starting on her face and boldly sliding down her figure. His stare is hot enough to burn.

Go-woon giggles answering for her, “Oppa look at her, come on. it’s clear she’s going on a date. Boys really don’t know anything.”

She blanches as how easily the young girl is able to correctly assess the situation, she hadn’t thought it would be that easy to see.

Seojun’s eyes harden as he turns away, staring at the coffee brewer as it works. He grabs two cups and pours the dark hot liquid in, before adding milk and a syrup and a layer of whipped cream on top. Go-woon hums happily clearly this is her preference as he hadn’t asked her how she wanted her coffee.

He silently hands the cups to them both. His face is blank and unreadable vast difference from the beatific smile he had blessed her with earlier. She feels as if she has done something wrong, but she has no clue what that is.

“Go straight home and don’t talk to anyone. Call me when you get home alright?”

Go-woon is barely listening to him instead she’s happily licking at the thick layer of cream on her cup cooing at the sweetness.

“Unnie, thank you again. I hope you enjoy your date, I’ll see you at school!” She suddenly has an armful of Go-woon before the girl is bounding out the door with only a “Bye oppa” to her brother thrown over her shoulder.

“You haven’t said it’s not true yet?”

She turns back to look at him, tilting her head lightly before sipping from her cup. She’s never had coffee this sweet, but it’s delicious so she takes another sip humming at the flavor.

He looks away for a moment, his chest expanding deeply before he turns back to her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your date. That you have a date, is that true?”

She raises an eyebrow at this straightforwardness, gone in the shy boy she only saw for a minute and this is the Seojun she is familiar with.

“I didn’t.” She agrees.

“Why?”

“Because it’s true. I am going on a date.”

During the conversation he started wiping down the already pristine counter but at her words his hand freezes and she watches his fist tighten in the wash cloth he ultimately throws it to the side to direct all his focus on her now, no longer nonchalant and unbothered.

“With who? Do you like him?”

She laughs meanly at his question, “You’re so naïve to my world. A date is just another business transaction, he is the son of someone my father needs on his side. I’m his peace offering.”

“What?” He barks loudly, looking like he wants to hurt someone. She can imagine who that person might be.

“Don’t get attached to me. My life isn’t mine to live.” She says tired of this discussion and all the feelings he has brought to the surface. Lifting her coffee cup she bids him farewell, “Thank you for the coffee.”

She doesn’t give him a chance to reply, already knows what he’s going to say but he doesn’t understand everything isn’t as black and white as he keeps assuming they are he needed a reality check, so she provided one.

Once on the sidewalk she checks her phone, she only has twenty minutes to spare. She can’t afford to wait for a cab so she opens the cab service app, entering the address and sighing in relief when the ETA says that she will arrive in fifteen minutes. Accepting the charge and confirming her location she sighs before lowering her phone, waiting.

But then she feels arms curl around her shoulder, bringing her back into a solid surface she almost fights the sudden embrace until he whispers in the side of her head, “Don’t go.”

She tries to pull away but he only holds her tighter, his arms are strong as he holds her firmly against his body. His warmth soaks into her skin and the urge to fight melts away as she relaxes into his embrace, he smells like the deep roast he had poured for them and something inexplicably Seojun that can’t be described with mere words.

“Stop,” She pleads with him, she has to go even if the idea of going on a date with someone else makes her sick to her stomach.

Someone else. Where did that come from? Did that mean that she wanted to go on a date with Seojun?

She can’t answer that question, doesn’t want to deal with the reality.

“No. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. Sujin, don’t go.”

She shivers as his words curl around her just as warm and tempting as his arms around her shoulders.

“Why are you doing this?” She demands, her eyes already filling up with tears of frustration she’d convinced herself she had to do this, let herself be used. It was easier this way to listen to her father. But he’s making everything hard and she needs to know why he cares.

“Why do you care who I go on a date with? Why are you doing this?” She screams into the air, deflating into his arms after her tantrum. Letting him brunt the entirety of her weight, he doesn’t even budge easily holding her up. He shifts his body, bringing his chin onto her head and holding her tighter, leaving no space between them.

“Isn’t it obvious by now princess?”

She opens her mouth to berate him, not that damn nickname again. He seriously needed to stop that before she got accustomed to it even now instead of annoyance a foreign emotion rose up inside of her.

“I told you to stop calling me tha--”

“I like you.”

The breath is punched from her lungs and her head swims with his words and she has no retort, no quick rebuttal, nothing. He has left her utterly and devastatedly speechless.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #han seojun #kang sujin #Seojin #turning up the heat #I just love straightforward characters #your honor she's his princess #true beauty fix it

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hwrryscherry · 4 years ago

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The one when Y/N meets Harry.

November 28th, 2017 - Shanghai, China

Today is the day. Today is the day you’ll be walking for Victoria’s Secret for the first time. Dreams do come true. You traveled all the way up from New York to Shanghai with some of your best friends after getting ready for this day for the past months. It wasn’t easy if you must admit. Having to follow a strict diet and working out almost every day was hard but being here today it’s totally worth it.

‘’Alright, it’s almost show time. I need everybody to be ready by minutes!’’ — The stage manager yelled while walking through all those tall ladies that were probably much taller than him. As usual, there’s going to be four segments and I’ll be in just two of them. At this moment, it’ll be the Goddess segment which looks completely stunning. You look around to see all those gorgeous women around me with their perfectly styled hair, beautiful golden wings and lingerie getting their final touch ups just like you are. You have no idea if it’s the amount of people around you now that are touching your hair, putting makeup in your face, fixing up the tiara or even if it’s the idea of having all eyes on you in just a few minutes. Of course, you wanted it to be perfect, it’s your first VS show and you can’t stand the thought of falling or anything like this.

You tried to calm down and focus on your breathing while staring to those extremely big screens hanged on the wall that showed the stage from every possible angle and you could totally notice that there was a lot of people out there.

‘‘I remember my first time too! I felt like my heart was about to leave my body’‘. Bella, that was right beside me getting herself ready as well.

‘‘Well, yeah! I’m one step to passing out now’‘. You joked while feeling this small woman finishing the touch ups of your outfit. It was stunning. There was a lingerie, of course, which looked like a white color but it was actually more into ai really light tone of grey. And they complemented it with a super long baby blue fabric over the lingerie. You had a super goddess like a golden tiara upon your head and some diamonds made up jewelry on your neck and years that probably costed more money than you could afford.

‘‘Romee! Where is Romee?We need Romee!’‘. The stage manager called Romee as she would be opening the runaway and you could see from the corner of your eye that she was almost running to get from the starting place. She literally looked like a Greek goddess with those beautiful long blonde locks and blue eyes. ‘‘Ok girls, I need all of you to get by your entering positions, alright?’‘ , by this phrase, all of you start to go to your marked positions. Yours was right before Bella which made you a little bit more confident because at least you had to do it with your best friend by your side.

You stared again at the big screens in the wall that showed the stage, seeing that it was a little bit dark, there was a big structure rising up from the floor and apparently there was a band inside of it. Everything looked really well produced, and you really tried to recognize in some way the melody of the instrumental song that was playing to know who was the band but your mind was totally blank now. All you could focus on was that you were just about to realize one of your biggest dreams. You looked at the line of tall girls in front of you as you listened to a scream. You knew this song by the melody. You couldn’t believe your ears and eyes. It was Only Angel by Harry Styles, it literally was Harry Styles. For some reason the fact of knowing this song so well made you a lot more confident. He started singing and the stage manager told Romee to go when Harry sang ‘’Broke a finger, knocking on your bedroom door’’ and Romee started doing her fabulous catwalk. And then Laís Ribeiro entered with the fantasy bra, which it’s the million dollar bra from VS, again, probably more expensive that you could afford. By the time that Romee came back from the backstage you were just leaving.

Being there totally put your adrenaline levels the highest it has ever been. The light, the other models, the crowd, the song. Everything was perfect. You were smiling thinking to yourself ‘’please don’t cry, please don’t fall’’, but you manage to do it, one foot in front of the other and posture, you looked glamorous, mostly like what Aphrodite would look like in real life.

‘’I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine As I went about my business through the warning signs End up meeting in the hallway every single time And there's nothing we can do about it’’

That was the part Harry had just song when you entered. Harry, of course, didn’t know you as you never talked before, except for that one DM. But he was stunned by the moment he saw you walking. He thought to himself how spectacular you looked as you walked towards him with that beautiful smile of yours.

‘’Told it to her brother and she told it to me That she's gonna be angel, just you wait and see’‘

Harry kept singing as you walked beside him. You looked at him and winked at the British boy as you held the baby blue fabric over you up to create a wing effect and Harry was just so caught up with the song and the moment that he kneeled down. Harry Styles literally got on his knees to you while signing those exact words:

‘’When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets And there's nothing she can do about it Hey, hey’’

You were surprised. Shocked actually. But the show couldn’t stop because you were flattered and honored about the fact that HARRY STYLES GOT ON HIS KNEES for you. So you kept walking and blew a kiss in the air to the camera started to walk back to the backstage when you saw your mom in the crowd looking extremely proud of her baby, you waved at her right before entering the backstage again.

The models were all celebrating and hugging the others. In the moment you step into the backstage Bella came hugging you and you hugged her back. You feel so happy and pround of yourself for that. The camera focused on you guys as you looked to the camera and said ‘’It was amazing!’’. And it really was. Your heart was beating as fast as never and even the same small lady that was fixing your outfit earlier came to you and Bella saying ‘’Come on girls, you have to change outfits!”. You and Bella walked hand in hand to the appareal and only parted ways when had to change lingeries. This time Bella and you wouldn’t walk at the fellow segment and apparently has Harry’s again.

The lingerie looked different though, this one was a black lingerie with actual wings. Some beautiful and medium sized blue wings and blue long gloves. And again you were ready to enter the stage. Looking up to the screens as I was going to watch this time, the big structure was rising from the floor again and Candice Swanepoel entered looking fabulous, I mean, it’s Candace right.

In general, the show was so good. He sang Kiwi, which is one of your favorites. You couldn’t stop singing at the backstage the entire time. And when the entire show was done and everybody was backstage eating pizza so you’re a hundred percent happy now, Harry was a little farther away from you wondering if he should go talk or not with you, even though he have this feeling that he knows you from somewhere and he just can’t remember where. So he decided he would come with the excuse that he thinks he have met you before. Harry walked towards you wearing a black suit with a pink shirt while holding a red cup with coke on. You were so focused on eating your pizza and didn’t even noticed the boy behind you, so he touched your right shoulder with his hand calmly while talking lowly ‘’Excuse me’’ as you turned out to look at him. You were still in your outfit except for those big blue wings that you had already taken off and at that moment Harry thought to himself about even though he had met tons of pretty women in his life but you were the prettiest. Everything about you was beautiful, your eyes, your nose, your lips and that smile you had held up in your face since the runaway. You were focused on his face too. You stared into his big green eyes and how they were sparkling in this moment.

— Hi! I... — He said, brushing his thought of his mind and held out his right hand for you — I’m Harry!

— I know! — You told him shaking your hands with his as a meeting form, soon using the same his to grab one more piece of pizza — I’m Y/N! You were so great out there, really I’m impressed!

— Oh — Harry said while exhaling a small laugh while analyzing your face to try to know with you were flirting, or just being nice. You were just being nice. Of course Harry is extremely handsome, but you really just think he’s being friendly at this moment. — So I made a good first impression then! That’s good.

— Excuse me? Of course you did! I love your songs, I’m like a super fan. — You told him being honest, you have been normally shy meeting new people, but something in how he acted and talked really made you feel comfortable straight away.

— I’m flattered! — Harry said, putting his free hand over his clothed while closing his eyes and giving you a cheeky smile — So..Is this your first time in Shanghai?

— Yes! I haven’t been to many places actually, just basic Fashion Week places by now, which I love of course! Is it your first time too?

— Actually yes! I’m on tour but me and my band mates are gonna take a walk through the city this night, you know, to have a experience — Harry explained to you and turned around a little to show you his band mates by the corner of the room where Mitch, Adam, Sarah, Naomi and Charlotte who were staring at you both indiscreetly waved as noticed that Harry were pointing at them. As the nice girl you were, you smiled and waved at them back before returning your attention to Harry — Maybe you would like to come with us...If you want of course, don’t feel obligated to, please!

You laughed about his concern of making you feel obligated or uncomfortable about something and looked around searching for Bella through the room, you saw her talking with the other models and stared back at Harry.

— I’m with my friend Bella and we kinda wanted to do the same thing so.. If it’s okay if she comes too, I really want to, don’t worry! — You were truthful, you and Bella really were planning to explore Shanghai through the night, but of course you wouldn’t go out in a city you don’t know with a group of people you don’t know. You truly don’t think they would be capable of causing you any kind of harm, but it’s always great to be cautious.

— It’s perfect! Let’s go then, do you want to go now or?... — Harry asked tenderly while rubbing his multiple rings on his hand.

— I mean...I gotta put some clothes on, but we’ll do it now and we’ll find you guys here? — You said, putting a lock of your hair behind your ear before leaving your empty cup by the table beside both of you.

— Sure!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry x reader #hwrryscherry

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bill-y · 4 years ago

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INURE

Peeta Mellark x Reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part four: Click here, rooroorara shooty shooty vang vang

Part five: You're right here, silly!

Part six: Click here, war criminal of 1878!

Wattpad acc: L0calxDumbass

The moment the anthem finished, we were taken into custody. It's not as if we were cuffed or anything; a group of Peacekeepers simply marched us through the front door of the Justice Building.

Each year, at least one of the tributes tries to escape; I've never seen one successfully do so.

Once inside, they put me in a room. It's the most prosperous place I've been to. With a thick carpet in the ground and a weird couch made of fabric, I've never seen before.

It was a strange texture, almost like the weird fuzzy stuff in deer's antlers. My father called them velvet; was this the same thing? If so, that's a bit gross.

Despite this, I still caressed the couch; it was oddly comforting. Almost like you're patting a nearly hairless kitten. It switched from smooth to rough each time I ran my hands through it.

Then I remembered that we only had an hour to say goodbye to our loved ones before leaving for the Capitol. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in. I didn't want to cry at all; the cameras were trained on me. I'm sure the Capitol would eat my tears up.

The first people who came in were my mother and my brother. Kunal let out a sob as he ran towards me, practically throwing himself onto me. I hugged him, staying silent as he buried his face into my neck, afraid that if he let go, I would disappear.

But I needed to break it one way or another. "Mother," I called, my voice detached. Her green eyes met mine, her lips quivering. I gulped down my spit, taking another deep breath in. "Do you. . . Have any idea on how you'll support yourselves. . ?" I asked.

Her eyes landed on the thick, red carpet. "Not as of now," she answered grimly, "But Katniss' mother offered me some work at the apothecary,"

My arms around my brother tightened. Maybe Gale and Katniss could bring them some of the game as well, though I wouldn't count on it. Why would they help us when they have other things to worry about? It's not as if I could teach Nal how to hunt either. The boy's frightened by his own shadow.

All he's good for right now for picking flowers as much as I love him. A sigh escaped my lips, my chest falling slowly as the reality sunk in.

"Well, you must think of something," I told her, my brows furrowing. "I'm not going to come back; I won't be able to support you and—"

"No!" she barked, "No! You will come back, Y/n." she proclaimed, her eyes shaking. She clenched her, fists, "Swear that you will."

Bitterness rose within me. "Tell that to the Capitol, mother," I said coolly. "If I die, then I—." My words were cut short by the sobbing of my brother.

He sniffled, pulling away from my now wet neck. "You'll win, won't you?" he croaked, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his reaping clothes.

I felt my heart stop; what was I supposed to say to him? "No, Nal. I will surely die, don't count on it," a lump formed in my throat.

My eyes landed on my mother, who gave a stern look. It told me to lie, if not for her sake, then for my brother's. With shaky hands, I held my brother's shoulders. "I'll make it out; then we can— gather some flowers in Victor's village, yes?"

Nal nodded, hugging me once more. I took a deep breath before I started explaining what they should do. With mother possibly getting a job at the apothecary, perhaps they have a chance to survive, after all. Though I'm not sure, that's such a pleasant thought with the fact that I will die.

Soon enough, a Peacekeeper was at the door, telling them their time was up. I gave Nal a hard squeeze before pushing him off. My mother nodded at me; her strawberry blonde hair bounced as she did so. "I love you both,"

The words were stuck in my throat; I couldn't say them. Maybe it was because of my strained relationship with my mother or because I hated the fact that I had just given my brother a false sense of hope. I simply watched as they walked away, hand in hand.

Nal's watery blue eyes looked back at me one last time, a look of sadness. He knew I was lying. I sounded unconvinced when I told him. My posture slumped; I felt horrible. Our maker is siis merely, I suppose.

The next visitor was unexpected; Peeta's father, the baker. My gut churned; I was off to kill his son soon. Why has he come to visit me? Perhaps he has come to beg me not to kill his son? Not that I could either way, Peeta was stronger than me: it was clear as day.

He handed me a small piece of parchment. It was filled with warm cookies. A delicacy. He must've visited his son; after all, why would he just me cookies? I was about to die anyway; why feed a dead man?

I let out a huge breath, "How was the squirrel?" my voice pierced through the thick silence. He shrugged, "Alright," he answered. Then another wave of silence hit us. I sniffed awkwardly, the scent of fresh bread entering my lungs.

I couldn't think of anything to say. What was I supposed to do? ApoloApologisebe, but I never really liked apoloapologisingee no need to. If I'm sorry, then I'll show it. We sat in awkward silence before the Peacekeepers told him his time was up. He stood up, clearing his throat.

"I'll keep an eye on the little boy, make sure he's eating," He stated before leaving. I felt the pressure lift from my chest. They may not like me much, but Nal was practically an angel to them. An angel born in a family of rebels, I'm guessing, is their thoughts.

The next guest then entered. Madge. Her expression wasn't weepy nor evasive, nor did she wear that bright smile she always had when she was around me. It looked urgent. She walked straight to me, the urgency in her tone quite surprising, "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home, will you wear this?" she holds out a circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier.

My brows furrowed, "Your pin?' I said. Does she really to die wearing rich-people-things? That hasn't even crossed my mind. . .

"I'll put it on your tunic, alright?" She said, not waiting for my answer as she leaned in and fixed the bird on my chest. "Promise me you'll wear it to the arena, Y/n. Promise me," She took my hand, her thumbs rubbing the back of my own.

Compared to Peeta's, hers was cold yet soft, almost as if she was nervous, worried. But why would she? I barely talk to her; she's the one who always strikes a conversation. All I do is nod and disagree at certain times.

She leaned closer to my face; I gave her an uncertain smile, pulling away. "Thank you, Madge," I muttered. She nodded, letting go of my hands. "Please, stay safe," her voice trembled as she rushed out of the room. I was left standing there, confused. What was that? Why did she visit me despite my rudeness earlier?

Next was Gale and Katniss. I didn't hesitate to hug both of them before pulling away with a sigh. "Hey, you'll be fine," Gale reassured, patting my shoulder. I stayed silent, only nodding. Katniss gave me a pity smile, "I'm sure it would be fairly easy to get knives, Y/n."

A sigh left my mouth, "I know— I just— Don't want to—" I stammered, making a stabbing motion with my hand. Gale gave me a pitied look, "It's just like hunting, Y/n. You're the best hunter we know," he said.

"They're not animals. They think; they're armed." I reasoned, my voice trembling. Why did I have to feel these emotions now? Maybe reality has finally settled in, the truth that I'll never see any of these faces again. On the off chance that I do, I'm sure they'll view me differently, a cold-blooded murderer.

"What's the difference, reale said grimly. Those words echoed in my head as they went away with the Peacekeepers. What is the difference? We're all just feral dogs forced to fight or cocks pit against each other.

I took a deep breath as I got called to ride a wagon to the train station. It was a relatively short ride. We never really had the luxury of these; we always had to travel by foot.

I silently thanked myself for not crying; there were insect-like cameras trained onto my face. Thankfully, I knew how to act, to bite my tongue. If I hadn't, I'd probably be screaming profanities. My eyes glanced onto the television screen; I look bored. Which, I surprisingly was.

It was as if my spirit left me already.

Peeta Mellark, on the other hand, had obviously been crying. However, he didn't even try to hide it, which was quite odd. Was this his strategy? To appear weak and vulnerable to assure the other tributes that he was no threat? This worked for a girl from district 7. Johanna Mason.

She seemed frightened, a cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until only a handful left. She then killed them all, with no problem whatsoever. I remember watching this game, quite shocked. She sold her act to me, but then again, maybe I'm just oblivious.

This worked for her because she looked frail, weak. Peeta applying this strategy was quite odd. Not only did he not look soft, but he was also jacked. He just looked like a big doofus. All those years having bread to eat and hauling trays made him physically capable.

Annoyance rose through me when we had to stand by the train's entrance while cameras gobbled out images up. I was sure I no longer looked bored but rather pissed. It wasn't like I was about to put on a pretty smile for them. These jester-dressed-worms should know how I feel.

Finally, we boarded, and the train began to move at once. The speed took my breath away. It was going faster than I could ever think of. The scenery around us just blurred—a mix of the neutral colour palette that made up District 12.

We were taught about coal in school. Some basic maths and reading before it circled back to coal again. Our district was used for coal mining, even hundreds of years ago.

Then there are the weekly lectures about the history of Panem, which never fails to annoy me. It's all blather about how we owe the Capitol because of the rebellion and whatnot.

I knew they're hiding something; we couldn't have lost that easily. I always think about this whenever I'm up in the trees, daydreaming, which is why I'm always the last one to arrive at the hill.

The tribute train was much fancier than the room at the Justice building. We were given our own rooms, a dressing area and private bathroom with cold and hot running water. We've never really had hot water readily available at home; we had to boil it.

Though I can't say, I like it, with all that effort I just end up not liking the bath. I much prefer the cold, flowing current of a river.

There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket told me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my father’s tunic and take a cold shower. I’ve never had a shower before. It’s like being in the rain, inky much tamer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants, trying my hair to the usual, small pa

At the last minute, I remember Madge’s little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It’s as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wingtips. I suddenly recognise it—a Mockingjay.

Funny little birds, my favourite creature in the forests, that's for sure. These were a slap to the Capitol's face. They genetically altered animals as weapons. Muttations as we call them, or Mutts for short. One particular kind was a bird they labelled Jabberjay, able to memorise and repeat whole human conversations.

Homing birds, exclusively male that were released into regions where the Capitol’s enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they’d fly back to centres to be recorded. It took people a while to realise what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centres were shut down, and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

But they didn't die; instead, they mated with the female mocking birds and produced this weird species that can replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They've lost the ability to enunciated words but could still mimic a range of human vocal cords.

My father used to sing them a lot. I guess he passed that habit down to me. Whenever I'm not doing anything, I find myself singing to the hummingbirds, who surprisingly listen and replicate my Father's song. It was a simple melody, made of 10 notes at least.

It warmed by heart, especially at times where I miss him. I smiled, fastening the pin to my shirt, the dark green as its background.

Effie came to collect me. I followed her through a narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable. There waiting for us was Peeta Mellark, the chair beside him empty.

"Where's Haymitch?" Asked Effie Trinket brightly.

"Last time I saw him he said he was going to take a nap," said Peeta. "Well, it’s been an exhausting day," said Effie Trinket. I think she’s relieved by Haymitch’s absence, and who can blame her?

Food came in courses. Though I barely touched the carrot soup, the chocolate cake, lamb chops nor the mashed potatoes. I wasn't going to eat this, not from the Capitol.

My jaw clenched as Effie told me to eat up, smiling brightly at me. I gave her a pained smile, slowly taking a bite of the lamb on my plate before swallowing it roughly.

A swirl of guilt formed in my stomach, was I eating really this luxurious food whilst Nal and mother struggle? I sighed, digging my nails into my palms.

Peeta looked at me oddly as he stuffed his face, he nudged my side and nodded towards the food. I simply shook my head, pushing the plate away.

Effie put her lips together at my stubbornness. She was muttering something about having no manners.

We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that since none of them has to attend reapings themselves.

One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We examine the faces of the kids who will be in our competition. A few stand out in my mind.

A monstrous boy who lunges forward to volunteer from District 2. A fox-faced girl with sleek red hair from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she’s very like Nal in size and demeanour. Only when she mounts the stage and task for volunteers, all you can hear is the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. There’s no one willing to take her place.

Last of all, District twelve. It showed Nal getting called and me volunteering. The commentators weren't sure about what to say regarding the silence. I only smirked at this, crossing my legs in amusement. Just in time, Haymitch fell from the stage, earning a comical groan from the commentators.

Peeta silently took his place on the stage; we shook hands and then just cut to the anthem.

Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour."

Unexpectedly, Peeta laughed. "He was drunk." He said. "He's drunk every year."

"Everyday," I added, finally breaking my silence streak with a smirk. Effie makes it sound kike Haymitch just had rough manners that could easily be dealt with.

"Yes," She hissed "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?" he slurred. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls in a mess.

"So laugh away!" said Effie Trinket. And so I did, I barked out mocking laughter as she hopped in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and fled the room.

Word count: 2974

Tags:

@nin3s

#hunger games x reader #hunger games #hunger games x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #peeta mellark x male reader #peeta mellark x reader #peetamellark #x male reader #gale #male x male reader

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mdotmaro · 4 years ago

Text

Winging It

Author's Note: This story is set right after Vacation with Derek. Casey is going off to New York to like her dream as a dancer in a musical. But what if things are not what she expected? What if her dream was wrong? What if the most irritating person in your life is the only one that can talk some sense into you

And so the summer of 05 was coming to an end. The Blue Heron Lodge wasn't going anywhere, and Broadway was calling Casey's name. She sat at the dock, letting her toes dance across the surface, careful to avoid her heels getting wet. There were slight thumps on the floorboards of the dock.

"You know it's not much of a party if you go to brood off all alone. Maybe save the dramatics when you get on stage." Derek commented while he took a seat next to Casey. She chuckled quietly.

"You heard, huh?" She asked with a wistful smile on her face as she stared up at the stars.

"Hard not to when Nora and her hormones keep crying about it every five minutes; Casey laughed at that and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Derek eyed her and then recoiled at the sight of tears.

"Oh, come on, not you too. Jeez, I can't wait to be in University without all the estrogen seeping through the walls." He said and nudged her lightly.

"I am fine, really just taking it all in. My dream is really coming true, and I just have this light feeling in my chest that makes me want to laugh and cry all at once." She explained; he smirked at her.

"Well, if that feeling spreads to your right arm, let someone know because you might be having a heart attack," Derek said, and Casey shoved him.

"Yeah, I'll miss you too, Der, " She said, and Derek scoffed at the insinuation.

"Whatever, all I am saying is that New York is far enough away that it would be too much of a pain to Dad and Nora to go fly over and save you from whatever crisis you have; so" He cleared his throat and looked up at the sky and pointedly not at Casey. His ears were a tad pink.

"So, call me instead. But you're paying for the plane ticket." He added abruptly, but it was too late. Casey began to pout her lip and stare at Derek with tears in her light blue eyes.

"Aww, Der. You do care. Come here," She said and went to hug the young man that back peddled away from her.

"I take it back, don't call me. Don't touch me. Casey, I mean it," He said in a mock deep tone that made her glossy eyes glitter with amusement. It was a two-second pause between them before Derek sprinted up the dock with Casey close at his heels.

"Oh, come on, Derek, you love me, just admit it," Casey shouted and laughed after him. He blitzed away from her just as she was about to catch him by shirttail. Her fingers barely brushed the fabric. Derek thought he could lose her at the dock because there was no way she would risk falling off, Right? Wrong, one rolled ankle, and down she splashed into the dark water. Derek burst out laughing and continued until he realized Casey didn't resurface.

"Casey?" Derek called out and scanned the surface for any bubbles. A twinge of panic left his voice when he called out again. "Casey!" Still nothing. "Oh for the love of Peter" He grumbled before taking off his fancy shoes and jumping in and searched the water for any sign of her. He saw a dim image of a figure struggling against something. Derek swam over and saw it was her heavy wedge heel stuck between two pieces of driftwood. Casey was trying to yank her foot out; Derek broke the buckle and dragged her up. They both gasped, and then Casey hit Derek in the chest.

"Der-rek, those were my favorite shoes!" She panted and supported herself up by his arms until she could regain her breath. Derek stared open-mouthed at her.

"Fine. I'll just let you drown next time," He said and then smirked, and Casey's eyes widened before Derek dunked her head underwater. She swatted at him until he let her go, and then there was a splashing war. At one point, Casey was able to wrap her legs around Derek's waist and pushed down on his shoulders to dip him under.

"Casey, you are not allowed to drown Derek," Nora said passively as she waddled with her large belly to the bunkhouse with George. Derek picked Casey up and flung her back into the water.

"You heard her." Derek laughed at the haphazard hair plastered to her forehead. Casey dipped her head back to smooth out her hair.

"Let's get out of here; the water is freezing," Casey said and wrapped her arms tightly around herself; the dress she was wearing had stuck to her skin in a less than modest way than Casey was comfortable with. Derek unbuttoned his vest and handed it to her. She smiled and accepted the vest, and quickly buttoned up the middle. Jessie saw Casey from across the lawn and jogged over.

"Hey, Casey, a great night for a swim, eh?" He said while grinning at the waterlogged step-siblings. Derek nudged Casey's arm before heading out to the brunette waiting by the jet ski. Casey watched him go before turning back to Jessie. I guess you could say that. Want to go for a walk?" She asked while looping her arm through Jessie's.

"What happened to your shoes?" Jessie asked, indicating to her bare feet. Casey laughed

"It's a long story."

Six months later

The blaring car horns were surprisingly easy to adapt to. Casey particularly loved the little shops and cafes that seemed to flower at every corner. The organic wheatgrass and lemon zest smoothie was a favorite routine of hers before taking a run in central park. Rehearsal wasn't until 10 am, and Casey had to make sure to keep up her stamina for the demanding routine involved in the Jazztap Tango on Mango Street.

Casey was the roommate and unrequited love interest, Mindy. Jessie was the lead Georgio. He was taking his role as the Mainstreet casanova to heart. Whatever began at the Blue Heron Lodge was soon forgotten after there was so much research to do with so many women.

"I just need to get a better feel of the character. You understand, don't you?" Jessie explained at Casey's studio apartment. She stared at him and tried her best to stay civil. It was an act she had seen many times with Truman and certainly with Jessie. He wasn't exactly nonchalant about his veracious flirting as a waiter, and it only increased in New York when his charming shyness faded away.

"Of course, see you on set. K?" She said before gently closing the door. The apartment was basically a shoebox; she could barely practice her routine, and Casey was starting to get restless. There were a few framed pictures across the headboard of her twin bed. She picked up the last picture the entire family had taken together. Simon was just born, and they were all huddled together at the hospital. She smiled at the image that had been taken four months earlier. Simon must have at least doubled in size by now. Casey sighed at the knot in her chest and stared at the phone on her bed for a long moment before giving in and dialing.

"Yo, You've reached Derek Venturi. Leave a message, and I may or may not get back to you. Later" Casey rolled her eyes at the voicemail, but she still waited for the beep.

"Hey, It's Casey. No, I am not having a crisis. I just wanted to call and see how you were doing and to see if you had flunked any of your classes yet. Call me back when you can," She said, and that was two days ago, and she had not heard back from him since. The musical was supposed to air at the Radio City Music Hall for the first time that night at 8 pm. It was too short notice for any family or friends to be able to see it live, but they promised to come to the next showing in two months in Buffalo.

Casey quickly dressed and went up to the stage. "Alright, Casey, go up to the balcony and start from 'Carry On, '" The director Bernard Blue instructed from the front row. The prop balcony was just reinforced after a near spill last week that had Casey hanging on for dear life by the railing. Margret, the leading lady, had teased that Casey shouldn't have had that extra slice of pizza at rehearsal wrap-up. Derek said that she was being "Black Swanned" when she had called that night to vent her frustrations.

"You've seen The Black Swan?" Casey scoffed.

"Uh Yeah, Natalie Portman 'finding her sexual nature' on screen. How could I not?" He said.

"You're disgusting," She said, but they ended up laughing anyway.

Casey stared into the spotlight and let out a deep breath.

"Carry on, sweet dear. My mother always told me.

Carry on through these tears. Let them water your garden.

Soon the flowers will bloom and shade your views of the unkindness of this world." Casey's voice carried sweetly through the theater as she watered the small prop flowers on the balcony. Below Jessie danced and caressed Margret while Casey was made to gaze forlorn at them from above.

"But sometimes the flowers bloom is not enough.

Never enough." Casey sang with more force, and she flew down the stairs to meet the lovers, but before she descended, they were gone.

"Just living and watching you fade from me.

Even if you're happy, it will never be enough for me-" She ended with the saddest halt of her voice. The lights faded, and then she was shuffled backstage for the next scene. It had become just a monotonous cycle in her life. When did her dream become the very thing she dreaded each and every day. Maybe when it was when her dream became a job, and the freeing feeling she had when she danced was now controlled by someone else. She looked at the glittering face in the mirror. Casey had the opportunity to give into a secret desire to be a blonde for the role, but there was something different in her eyes. They seemed dull.

The play was a moderate success. There were no screaming crowds or cries for an encore like the director had predicted. Casey was honestly just glad it was over. When she went to the dressing room, she found someone in her chair. With a well-timed spin, Derek grinned at her, appearing quite at home.

"The real star is here," He announced, lounging in the makeup chair like a throne. Casey laughed and all but launched at him. She squeezed him in a hug.

"Chillz, Case. Can't breathe." Derek said but still gave her a gentle squeeze back. Some of the other girls began to mill into the dressing room and took in the scene of the two step-siblings.

"Aww, Casey, I didn't know you had enough time for a boyfriend." Eloise sneered. Casey gave the petite redhead a withering look.

"This is my step-brother, Derek. Derek, this is Eloise, Jasmine, Cossette, and Jamie." Casey said, milling off as the women eyed Derek with a predatory look. Casey wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Oh, and is Derek single?" Eloise asked while batting her massive costume lashes at the man. Derek chuckled and got out of the chair, but before he could say anything.

"Oh, he is, but sorry to tell you, girls, he is gay. Come on, let me show you the city." Casey said before half dragging Derek out of the dressing room. Derek protested the entire time he was very much straight. Once they were on the street, Derek shook her off his arm.

"Jeez, Casey. Possessive much?" Derek complained. Casey shook her head.

"Please, Derek. Those theater girls would have eaten you alive." She teased. "Anyway, what made you come all the way over? How did you like the play? How is the family?" Casey rattled off as they walked down the street, the park was coming up, and they had a night market to celebrate the change into spring.

"Take a breath, Casey." Derek teased and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Casey closed her mouth and made a locking motion while throwing away a figurative key. Derek rolled his eyes.

"You are such a dork," He mumbled, and she put her hands on her hips. "Well, I heard your voicemail, and you are still a terrible liar; you are obviously having a crisis." And he held a hand to stall her protest. "Yes, you are, but I have to go down the list before you go on this verge of denial." He smirked

"The play was sappy but good, I guess. And the Fam is fine, I guess, you can reach out to them too, you know." He said and then lingered over to a hotdog vendor and ordered a dog with all the fixings, even relish. Derek took a huge, messy bite and then offered some to Casey, who gave a quick shake of her head.

"I know, and I try too, but these hours are so long with the play and rehearsals and the gym to stay in shape." She sighed. Derek sized her up.

"What's wrong with the shape you're in now?" Derek said through a mouth full of meat. Casey grimaced and offered him a napkin.

"Chew, swallow, then speak, you, Neanderthal," Casey said and then looked down at her thin, toned arms. "The costume designer has been complaining about having to use extra material for my costume because I am not a size two like the other girls," Casey said and crossed her arms in frustration.

"You'd look weirder than usual if you were super thin like them," Derek said after finishing his hot dog and wiping his mouth. They passed a beadwork station where Derek tossed his trash in the nearby bin, and Casey looked intently at the necklaces.

"I agree, but that's showbusiness. I don't have enough curves to be plus-sized and not thin enough to be seen as a regular dancer. It's exhausting," She admitted while touching a deep jade necklace like one her mother would wear.

"So, quit," Derek said simply. Casey turned away from the necklace and stared at him incredulously.

"I can't just quit on my dream, Derek. I have sacrificed too much for it not to work out." She said hotly. Derek gave her a bland look.

"I saw you up there; there is no passion in you." Derek accused. Casey scoffed.

"Please. What do you know about passion?" Casey asked, and he shrugged.

"I have been playing hockey since I was twelve, and I have never felt like getting up to play was ever work. You have been complaining for weeks about this, and it is just not what you expected. And that scares you." He accused. Casey shoved him.

"I am not scared!" She hissed, but it wasn't convincing. She gave into his penetrating look and slumped her shoulders. "Okay, fine. I thought it would be amazing to dance on a stage in front of hundreds of people every night, but it's not the same when the choreography is the exact same, and I don't have the creative liberties I would If I did my own choreography." She admitted—Derek tutt at her before lazily throwing his arm across her shoulders.

"Well, you can always modify your dream to fit your life." He said and then eyed a street band performing under a massive tree filled with string lights. Casey gave him a confused look, and then her eyes widened at him when he dragged her towards the band, and he twirled her around. "Like dancing in the park without any stuffed shirts of catty girls criticizing you." He said before joining her in a faced paced swing dance. Casey's face lit up with the biggest and most beautiful smile. She laughed and tilted her head back when Derek picked her up and spun her.

A small crowd of dancers joined in, and the band picked up its pace, and Derek let Casey down so she could take the reigns. This was her, Casey free and alive.

The two left the park with a little more pep in their step and laughing. Derek dragged them to the closest bar and ordered them whiskey shots. Derek started to sweet talk to the bartender and didn't even get carded. They were legal in Canada, but at nineteen, were not yet legal in the states. It helped that Derek had a bit of a blonde stubble beard going on. Casey just shook her head in amazement.

"I am the one supposed to be showing you around the city. I am the one who lives here," Casey said before clinking her shot glass with Derek's and downing it in one go. Derek laughed at her grimace as the whiskey burned down her throat.

"It's called confidence Casey, maybe you'll know all about it after a few more of these." He said and waved at the bartender for another round. He handed Casey another cool shot glass, and she met his determined gaze with one of her own. He leaned close to her ear and said over the loud music.

"Oh, and you're paying, by the way." He said, and before she could yell at him, he downed his shot and pulled on her hand to the dance floor. Casey refrained from his pulling to shakily downed her whiskey shot. Derek released her to the thumping music while he made eye contact with a blonde in a tight purple dress. Casey felt her limbs become loose and cool and began to sway to the beat. The writhing bodies pressed against another was not the type of music she was usually used to, but there was something hypnotic about it. A pair of arms snaked around her waist, and Casey flinched to see a handsome stranger with mint green eyes that shone against dark skin. He leaned close to her ear.

"Want to dance?" He asked, and she nodded nervously. He led her in a slow sway, lightly pressing his hips into hers. Casey bit back a gasp and ran her arms up and through her own loose waves. This was heaven. She followed the handsome stranger step for step and rolled her hips in a way that made him hiss. His hands began to drift from her hips to the back pockets of her low-ride jeans. It was only when he squeezed her bottom that she squealed and jumped away. The handsome stranger raised his hands up in surrender. He mouthed "sorry" to her, and she shook her head and smiled at him before moving more towards the center and dancing by herself. At least she was until Derek came over with another two shots, and she gladly accepted, now getting more used to the burn.

"You okay?" Derek shouted over the music. Casey nodded.

"Better than ever." She said and wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him into a more lively song. Derek put both their glasses on the nearby counter and began to sway along with Casey. This was much closer than they had ever danced before, and Casey was giggling and biting her bottom lip as she spun and gyrated onto Derek. Oh no, Derek thought. He had created a monster. He would have always thought Casey would be a lame weepy drunk, but it turns out she is a flirty drunk. Derek wasn't exactly sober either, and the night was still swinging along. He held for the ride with his hands firmly on Casey's hips. She spun and then wrapped her arms around his neck. She swayed back and forth with her eyes half-closed.

It's hard to say who moved; first, one moment, they were forehead to forehead, and then Casey whispering huskily, "Thank you for saving me, Derek" Derek chuckled and asked, "From what?". Casey's fingers ran through his smooth hair before leaning to his ear and whispering, "From myself" Maybe he was going to give her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. Maybe she only turned to put her head on his shoulder. Whatever their possible intentions, what happened was that their lips met for the briefest moment. They had enough sobriety to freeze and look into each other's eyes. Derek searched her baby blue eyes for any fear or concern but only found her doing the same, and a flicker of want glazed over her eyes. That was all each other needed for permission.

While the first kiss was sweet and innocent, this kiss was desperate and sensual. Derek pressed Casey closer and cupped the back of her head to deepen the kiss, and Casey let her hands trail down his chest to the hem of his shirt. In the course of their kissing, the song had changed to something slower; Casey and Derek took the opportunity to come up for air. Casey nuzzled into Derek's neck, and he held her close.

"What are we doing?" Casey asked and pulled back to look at Derek. She half expected a sarcastic remark like, What does it look like? We were making out, and now we're not. Not that big a deal, Case. But Casey had never seen Derek like this before. His face was open and vulnerable.

"I don't know," He said and shook his head. He smoothed some hair out of her face and smiled down at her. Casey smiled back and leaned up to kiss him lightly. She rubbed her hands over his arms.

"Well, whatever this is, let's wing it," Casey announced confidently. Derek laughed at that and shook her lightly.

"What?" Casey pouted. Derek shook his head and slung an arm over her shoulder, leading her out of the dance floor towards the bar to pay their tab.

"'Let's wing it,'" He imitated her in an absurdly high pitch tone. "You are still such a Keener," He said. She elbowed his side.

"Der-rek," She whined as he pat her head in a condescending way.

"It's okay; you're a cute kenner." He said with a wink. She forked up the cash for their tab and joined him out in the New York nightlife.

They stared out at the buildings from Casey's fire escape. Neither said anything for several minutes until Casey broke the silence.

"I have to drop out of the play," Casey announced, and Derek smoothed her hair in response. "Yeah, you got me thinking."

"Oh no," Derek said and snickered when she lightly slapped his knee. Casey was sitting between his legs and leaning back into his chest.

"I want to go back to school, but not for Law. I want to own my own dance studio." She said, and Derek put his chin on top of her head.

"So, Casey Macdonald found a way to make a career where she is in complete control. Shocker." He whispered the last part into her ear; she smiled and then turned around so she was facing him.

"Plus, going to university will give us time to figure out whatever this is." She said as she placed her hands on his shoulders. He smirked at her.

"Yeah, sure, let's 'wing it,'" He said, and Casey slid her hands up to his neck and kissed him until the sun began to rise, and they both finally succumbed to exhaustion.

#life with derek #casey and derek #derek and casey #desey #fanfic #romance #slow burn #dasey

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