#I’ve straight hair I can’t relate but I feel for you all stay strong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugarbooger513 · 3 years

Text

Mine (Stepbrother!ChosoxFem!Reader)

This is my collaboration piece for @severelytalentless Are You Afraid of the Dark collab! I had a lot of fun writing this... work. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to my very amazing friends who helped me out during this piece, especially my wifey @kentosovertime and my bestie @roughwithfluff. It wouldn't have ended up as well written as it did without the help.

Warnings: stepcest, possessive nature, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), oral (fem receiving), spit, Choso slaps reader in the face like once, he also slaps in another place, daddy kink, dom Choso, Choso is very petty, mentions of cheating ex, mentions of alcohol and nicotine consumption, degradation, praise, slight breeding kink if you squint

"Don't bother calling me anymore! I see what's more important to you.." You hang up your cell phone and throw it across the room. Your bed feels colder than it usually does, but you lay on it anyways, allowing your tears to flow onto your pillow.

Your boyfriend, now ex, of two years had called you with a plea, begging for your forgiveness. How could you forgive him, though? When you heard about your best friend sleeping with him, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You knew she thought he was attractive, but there was never a worry in your mind that either of them would take it anywhere.

You sit up, suddenly realizing that he would be on his way home from work in an hour, maybe two. You had to leave before he got home. It wasn't like you feared he would hurt you for leaving him, but he would certainly try to guilt you into staying with him.

Your heart rate increases when you realize that you have no idea where you can go. He knows all of your family, and is pretty loved by all of them. Your stepmom even has the habit of calling him her son. 'Her son...'

You rush to grab your phone, dialing the all too familiar number. If there's one person in your family you can call, it's the one he's scared of.

"Y/N," your step brother lets out a long yawn after answering, "what's up?" "B-bubs.." You can hear him drop something on his end. "Honey, why are you crying?" "He.. he cheated on me.. with her.. you were right.."

Choso bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly enraged at the thought. He never liked that guy. When they first met, Choso punched him in the jaw for being an asshole. You were mad at him at the time, but eventually understood why he did it. Since then, your ex was too scared to look Choso in the eyes.

Still, he now finds himself smiling.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?" Your sniffle makes him clench his fist. "He's going.. to be home s-soon." "Drive over here. I'll set up the guest-" "C-can you get me..? I don't want him tracking my car.."

Your pitiful voice goes straight to his crotch. Even though no one else is at his home, he finds himself trying to conceal his half hard cock with the kitchen counter.

"Of course, honey. Pack a bag. I'll be there in twenty." "I-I love you, Choso.. thank you." He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. "I love you too, honey."

When he hangs up, he groans loudly and places his head on the cool marble. "Okay," he talks to himself aloud, "just.. keep yourself in control. You got this, Choso. She's your step sister, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, grabbing his keys.

Still, he can't deny the things you do to him. It makes him feel terrible, but you're so damn tempting. He always figured that your hugs would last a little too long, your eyes scanned him a little too much, your hands lingered on him a little too suggestively.

He knew better, though. Your teenage years were spent on tons of dates with guys who were the complete opposite of your stepbrother. He would sit in his bedroom, no doubt on a video game, while he listened to guy after guy go in and out of your bedroom. It wasn't like you were a whore.

Those guys just eventually showed their true colors.

He knows that when you love, you love with your entire heart. That's why he was there for you through every heartbreak. He would hold you for hours, dry your tears with his own shirts, make you your favorite snacks, take you on long walks so you weren't cooped in the house all day.

Why? Well, because in his mind you already belonged to him.

You pace your living room, already holding your overnight bag in your hand. Of course, you'll probably stay with Choso more than one night, unless your dad tells you to stay with him and your stepmom instead.

Who are you kidding? If Choso offers to let you stay longer, you would much rather stay there.

Your front door opens, and you jump in fear that your ex came back early. "Shhh, honey it's me." "C-Cho.." Choso walks across the room in quick strides to pull you into his strong embrace.

His hands gently cradle you against his body. "He doesn't deserve your tears Y/N. Don't give him the satisfaction." "Y-you tell me that after every breakup, Choso.." "I know. That's because none of them deserve your kindness."

You close your eyes and feel yourself relax in his strong arms. He's never let you down. Choso has been the only guy in your life to prove he would always be there for you. You truly trust him with your life.

That being said, you can't ignore the feelings that have formed over the years for your stepbrother.

Your fingers grip his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer to you. He sighs softly and buries his face in your hair. "Is there anything I can do for you, Y/N?" "Just... don't leave me. Please?"

His heart pounds in his chest at your feeble plea. His throat seems to dry, so he can't manage to speak. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he clears his throat.

"You know I won't, Y/N. I never have." "And never will?" His large hands squeeze your body a bit harshly, but your breath only increases at the feeling.

"I never will. Now, why don't we get you loaded into the car and get you home?" You finally pull away, blinking your still teary eyes at him so innocently. "Home..?"

The look on your face has his body on fire. You look so damn innocent, just like an angel. They're still red and puffy from your crying, but that only has him straining in his pants.

The things he would give to take the innocence from your face this second..

"Of course. My home is yours for as long as you need." He jingles his keys in an attempt for you to hurry and follow.

"What.. what about as long as I want..?"

That sentence has him blushing furiously. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. You're family and I love you, so my home is yours. We should go though. I don't want to-" His sentence is cut short when you wrap your small arms around his frame.

"Cho.. you're the only person in my life that cares this much.." "Don't say that, princess. You know that isn't true." His large hands are so gentle as they rub your back comfortingly. The small action has your heart pounding.

It also has your core burning for more.

"I-I want to stay with you." "Princess, then why are we still here?" There's a hint of laughter in his teasing tone. "I mean.. stay with you." You bury your face in his broad chest, hoping desperately that he gets the hint.

And oh boy does he ever. He can't help the small groan that escapes his throat at the mere thought.

"Y/N.. you don't mean that." You finally look up, shocked at the tint of rosiness on his usually pale cheeks.

"I-I do mean it.. You're the only guy who has ever-" "I'm family." "Not blood. D-Don't act like you don't feel the same Choso!" His eyes widen, and your accusation has him backing away from you, causing your hope to falter. Had you been mistaken this entire time? Had the stares and lingering touches really just been his own way of showing platonic affection.

"Choso.. I-" "Am I truly that obvious, Y/N?" You blink once, twice before giggling softly. "Y-yeah.. have I not been?" "No. Your.. attention always seemed to be on others. I just assumed.. you saw me as your big brother." You shake your head, walking slowly to stand directly in front of him again.

You've always thought his eyes were gorgeous, a slight grey tint over the almost golden color, they truly are their own unique shade, but right now they seem even brighter.

"I.. I was scared. People would.. call us freaks if anything came of any attraction to each other. I mean.. we've known forever that we weren't related, but our parents have been married-" "Going on ten years now. Even dated for five years before that. Trust me," his hand reaches to touch your cheek gently, as if he's afraid he could break you, "I've been bouncing the pros and cons in my head for so many fucking years."

Your cheek fits so easily in his palm, as if it was made to be there. "So.. who gives a damn about the cons anymore?" His eyes darken at your words, suddenly not focused on your gaze, but your lips. "I don't think I do, Princess." He suddenly turns the two of you, pressing your body into the wall that was originally behind him.

His lips hover centimeters over yours, making you whimper pathetically. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you, Y/N." His lips turn at the corners, making the already handsome guy seem even more so. Your hands reach out, gripping the loose t-shirt he's wearing tightly. "I-I need you, Cho. P-please?"

"Well, why don't we take this little.. fiasco to my place?" "No." He tilts his head in confusion as you smirk. "Fuck me on his bed.. onii-chan."

His lips are on yours the instant that word leaves your mouth. Despite the fact you're almost certain that Choso doesn't know what lip balm is, his lips are so plush and soft. It catches you off guard, causing you to moan softly in his mouth.

He isn't shy about exploring your body either. His hands grab every bit of plushness they can. Your hips, thighs, ass, until he finally reaches your breasts. His hands squeeze them harshly, not caring about any actual pain he could bring. You gasp in the kiss, which allows his tongue to finally invade your mouth, easily taking over as the dominant one.

He tastes faintly of cheap wine and cigarettes, but that doesn't shock you. You've spent multiple nights in his room smoking and drinking after rough breakups.

You have to smack at his shoulder a few times before he pulls away, leaving a strand of saliva connecting the two of you. He lets out a deep growl before grabbing your arm to yank you upstairs.

He kicks the bedroom door open, not caring about possibly busting the damn thing. "I have waited for so fucking long," he shoves you onto the queen sized bed that you once shared with your ex, "to have you all to myself. Now that I have you..." He pulls the shirt over his head, causing your eyes to shamelessly wander over his toned body. He catches your gaze, causing him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation. "Oh I am never letting you out of my grasp now, little one."

You sit up and, without a second thought, throw your shirt off and into the floor. "A bit possessive, are we?" He chuckles a bit darkly. "I don't see you complaining. Besides," he rips your pants off in one fluid motion, purring at the dark spot already staining your panties, "it seems you know who you belong to." His head is almost instantly between your legs, his hands shoving your thighs open effortlessly.

He licks a long stripe up your covered slit, causing you to mewl. "Go ahead, princess, tell me exactly who owns you." This time he places a small kiss just over your clit. "F-fuck, you!" "Hmmm," his hand comes down to smack your pussy with an unnecessary amount of force. "Not good enough. Try again." He lands another smack, this one making tears prick your eyes.

"W-what do y-you want-" you cry out as he lands two more smacks on you. The pain is startling at first, but it quickly has you moaning in pleasure. "How about that fun little nickname you've given so many men that have entered your bedroom?" You squeak, making him chuckle. "Oh come on, there's no way you thought I never heard you. Always had the fucking nerve," another smack, this one even harder, "to cry out for other men while I was in my bedroom dreaming of making those pretty eyes cry in my bed. Come on, call me that sweet little name and I'll fuck you better than any of those assholes could have."

The last smack has you screaming, and you can't seem to care that any of your neighbors could hear. "D-Daddy! Y-You own me! I-it's always been you, I swear daddy! P-Please fuck me, I-I need it!"

He groans loudly before ripping your panties from your body. "I'll have to remember that you beg beautifully once I get you home." Two of his fingers spread you apart, and he smirks at the puddle of essence already pooling on the bed. "So fucking wet for me, aren't you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes you try and clamp your thighs closed, but one of his hands shoves it back down. His eyes look up at you as he continues to lap at your drooling pussy. The stare speaks every word he can't at the moment.

This is for his pleasure, not yours, and you're meant to lay back and take what he's giving you.

Your fingers tangle in his raven hair, and the slight pain has him growling against you. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly, and he shoves two fingers into you without any warning.

You knew beforehand that Choso had slept with at least a few women, so he's not inexperienced, but you never knew that he was this experienced. His long fingers curl into you, pushing against the spot that has you screaming his name to the heavens. He has to rut against your mattress in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief.

"D-Daddy.. I-I'm g-gonna cum.." He could already tell. Your walls sucked his fingers in as soon as they entered you, so he knew you wouldn't last much longer. "Hmmm," his sharp teeth nip your clit gently, but it still makes you squeak, "I sure hope you aren't telling daddy what you're going to do.. That would be awfully rude of you, little one."

The sheer dominance and control radiating from him has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Since when was your sweet step brother so demanding? "C-can I please cum, daddy? I-It feels t-too good.." You feel that damn smirk against your clit. "Of course, baby. Just scream my name when you do it, okay?"

He really must not like you talking much, because he doesn't let you answer him before he starts ruthlessly pounding his fingers into your cunt. Your entire body arches from the bed as you cry out for him. It takes one last flick of his tongue on your swollen bud to have you writing in the bed, coming completely undone before he even pulled his pants off.

He slows down, but doesn't completely stop, allowing you to ride out your high as he uses his tongue to lap up every drop of sweetness pouring from you. "Good girl, I've got you sweetheart. Are you feeling up for more, or do you need to stop until we go home?"

He sits up, eyeballing your form as he licks his lips clean, ignoring the fact he's dripping your own cum from his chin onto you.

You giggle, still a bit spaced out from the intense orgasm. "W-want you.. inside me, please daddy?" He chuckles softly before reaching to finally unhook your bra and fling it to the side. "Of course baby. Where are your condoms?" "D-Don't have any. I'm on.. the pill." His cheeks flush a bit, but he doesn't question anything else.

He makes quick work of his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. The outline of his cock alone has you snapping back to reality. When he pulls the boxers down, you outwardly moan when it slaps back against his abdomen. He's much bigger than any guy you've had before. Also, it's so.. pretty.

The shaft is a lot like the rest of his skin, a very pale color that almost shines if sunlight hits it. The head is a soft pink, very reminiscent of the blushes he always seemed to get if you teased him too much, with droplets of precum around it. A large vein runs from the underside of it, and you can see it actually throb the more he stares at you.

"See something you like, love?" You whimper at the very affectionate nickname. "I-is it going to fit? I mean.. I've never.." "Don't worry, little one," he gently lays you back, "daddy will get it to fit. If it hurts too much, just let me know. Okay?" he grabs one of your exes' pillows, placing it gently under your lower back. "O-okay, daddy. I trust you."

His smile warms your heart. "That's my good girl. Spread your legs for me." You nod, following his instructions immediately. His hand reaches between the two of you, grabbing his cock and gently rubbing the tip around your entrance. "You sure you want this, Y/N? I don't want you to feel forced." You whimper, nodding instantly. "P-please fuck me, Choso.. I've waited so long.." You spread your legs more, effortlessly enticing him.

When his tip enters you, you're already a moaning mess. It just feels too good. He watches your expressions intently as he slowly pushes into you, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's about halfway in, he stops completely.

"How you doin' baby? Any pain?" He leans down to give you a gentle kiss. "G-good. I-it kinda burns, but nothing bad, I promise." He smiles against your mouth and starts to push in again. "We're almost there, little one. Just- fuuuuck." He finally bottoms out, the stretch of it making you whimper loudly and wiggle around. He pants on your face, the scent of you still heavy on his breath.

"S-so fucking tight.. can't believe this is happening..”

He chuckles softly, giving a tentative thrust into your heat. You bite down on your lip, finding both pain and pleasure in the burn that courses through your body. "D-daddy-" He cuts off the rest of your sentence by leaning back onto his knees and grabbing the back of both of your thighs. He manhandles you easily into what you can only assume is a mating press.

"So easy to throw around, aren't you? My pretty baby.." He pulls out of you until only his tip is still inside before slamming back in, causing you to see stars. "You take cock like a pro, baby. I wasn't sure a cute little thing like you could handle it." You tighten around him at his foul language, causing him to growl. "I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby. I'll make sure I'm the only one who can make you scream. You want that, baby? Want daddy to fuck the imprint of his cock into your slutty little hole?"

You throw your head back and cry out for him. "P-please! Make me your little toy, daddy. W-want you to own me.. prove who I belong to, please?" You know you've done it now from the way he snarls at you. However, the sudden ringing of your phone makes both of you freeze. He leans back up to wrap your thighs around his torso.

He's the first to reach to the floor and grab it, still buried deep inside of you. "Oh, lookie there.. a video call. Hello?" Did he-

"Choso? Where is Y/N? Why do you have her phone?" Your ex's voice sounds from the speaker, making your eyes shoot open. You meet Choso's eyes, mouthing the words 'hang up' over and over.

"What does it matter? She dumped you and called me." "Of course she did. Dude, let me talk to her." Choso chuckles darkly, finally thrusting into you, making you squeak loudly despite your best effort to stay quiet.

"What was that?" "Y/N. She's currently.. held up. Or.. down, rather." He smirks at his own joke, reaching down his free hand to start circling your clit with his middle finger. The feeling has you tightening your thighs around his waist.

"You... what?" "Are you deaf and stupid? I said she's busy, aren't you little one?" He smirks down at your form, panting and shaking your head in a desperate, silent plea. This can not be how everyone finds out about this. No way in hell.

Choso's mocking pout makes your face flare up. "She seems a little shy. Let me show you instead." "N-no! Choso I-!" The choking gasp from the phone call shuts you up. Choso's eyes show no mercy as he looks at you almost amused. "That isn't what you should be calling me, is it?"

You look directly at the camera on the back of your phone, your face a deep scarlet color. Before you can correct yourself, the hand that was idly playing with your clit launches up, smacking your cheek with enough force to have your eyes switch to his. He smirks and shoves his index and middle fingers in your mouth without warning, making the ring he wears clack a bit painfully into your teeth.

"Pretty little whore just needs to learn some manners. Don't you, love?" He gets a wicked grin seeing how you blabber around his digits, trying so desperately to behave and give him an answer. "Sorry, princess, I didn't quite hear you. Try again for daddy." He shoves his fingers farther down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. Spit pours out of your kiss bruised lips, making Choso moan above you.

Your teary eyes make him pull his fingers out, wiping the spit across your face. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't speak? Silly little girl. Now, what should you be calling me?" "D-Daddy! I'm s-so sorry.." He groans, running his thumb down your bottom lip. He gently pries your mouth open before leaning over you, letting spit fall from his tongue into your waiting mouth. He purrs as you swallow it so obediently. "I know you are. You're such a good girl for me. Oh, he hung up." Choso chuckles softly and tosses your phone back to the floor.

"I believe that I have some work to finish, right baby?" Both of his hands grab your hips, surely leaving bruises, before he starts to mercilessly ram into your sopping cunt. Your throat is still somewhat raw from his fingers being in it not two minutes ago, but he's determined to pull every sound he can from you.

He slides one hand down, harshly pinching and rolling your swollen clit between two fingers. Your cries only encourage his ruthless actions.

"D-daddy I-I.. something.. something doesn't-" Your pleas are cut off when the hand on your hip actually lifts you off the bed, giving him enough access for the tip of his cock to batter into your cervix.

If you aren't sore tomorrow, he hasn't done his job.

Sweat drips down his forehead and chest as he growls deeply. "There we go baby. T-that's the spot. Cum for daddy, want you screaming until my name is the only t-thing you know." His hand starts slapping your exposed clit again, finally throwing you over the edge. When the coil in your abdomen snaps, you scream his name, raw throat be damned.

Choso hisses as you tighten around his cock, spraying his lower abdomen in your essence. "Sh-shit I-" His sentence trails off when he thrusts into you one more time, letting out an animalistic snarl as his own climax washes over him.

You can feel his cock throb as he unloads his seed deep inside you. The feeling makes you tremble and mewl. There's so much of it that it still manages to spill out, staining the bed sheets under you.

He's still panting pretty heavily when he slides out of you, careful in case you're still too sensitive. When you squeak, he reaches up to cup your cheek. "You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you." You nuzzle into his hand, placing a small kiss in the palm. "Th-thank you, daddy. I-I'm so tired." When your eyes start to flutter shut, he carefully stands from the bed, shamelessly admiring your disheveled state. "I'm sure you are. Let me get us cleaned up. Then I'll take you home, okay?"

Your small nod is plenty of an answer, so he rushes to the bathroom to search for a rag. He takes only a few seconds to wipe himself clean before rushing back to your side. You wince slightly at the feeling of the cloth wiping you down. "Shhhh, daddy's got you baby. I'll be done in just a second." He smiles to himself as you visibly relax into his touch, allowing him to finish.

"You know," he chuckles as he helps you pull your clothes back on, "your dad is going to try and kill me." "Your mom is going to call me every name in the book." He nods in agreement, finally starting to dress himself.

"So.. should we stay quiet? I imagine shit-for-brain isn't going to, but we can play that off as him being an idiot." You bite your lip, weighing the consequences of either decision.

There's no doubt in your mind, you want to be with Choso. It's clear he's willing to do whatever you want, but from the look in his eyes, the answer is obvious.

"I'm not hiding it." He blinks at you in shock. "B-baby.. your repu-" You stand up, despite your legs screaming in pain. He's quick to rush over and pull you into his chest. "I don't care.. I love you, and I don't want to hide it anymore." You squeak loudly when he picks you up bridal style, holding you easily with one arm.

The kiss he gives you is soft and loving, full of nothing but his affection for you. "I love you too, Y/N. I want nothing more than to tell the world that."

He carries you downstairs to grab your overnight bag, and then out to put you in his car. He really refuses to let you do anything, since he even leans inside to buckle you up. Your protests have him laughing. "When you're with me," he kisses your lips after getting into the driver's seat, "you're the spoiled princess. Got it?"

The drive to his house is quiet. He holds your hand the entire time, stroking along it with his thumb, occasionally bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle.

"Oh.. oh shit." "What?" You open your eyes from almost falling asleep.

Your blood freezes when you see what he's looking at. Your dad's car is already parked in his driveway.

Tags: @katgalle, @savonline

#dark content #stepcest tw #choso #choso jjk #jjk choso #stepbrother choso #jjk #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x reader smut #choso x fem reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso brainrot #choso supremacy

506 notes · View notes

izukusjoyfriend · 3 years

Text

Deku and Bakugou analysis,a bit of a KatsuDeku theroy post.

Warning!!! This thread is very long and has suggestice themes. Please proceed with caution.

"After that, he lit a fire under me like that"

That's way to sus.

One thing I've noticed too,Deku refers and reacts to Bakugou differently than big heros,even ones that he strongly admires,like,really admires,like all might.

Which makes me thinks..Is all the romantic-like shit done on purpose?

Stuff like this:

That first line translates into: The burning longing in my chest will not disappear.

Second line:I want it to change

He said he daydreams about him and Katsuki in some opening I don't remember.

Stars are VERY prominent with them to,after when Deku said that sus line,he looks up at a star,and saids,he wants it to change,ya know,there is also another song about Katsuki and Deku,Its Polaris. It being about Deku and Katsuki,makes a lot of sense.

Heres why;

"If I could go back and give up everything I had,I would never hide my scars for anything. No not for no one"

When Katsuki bullied Deku,he was scar-ed.

It makes sense. He regrets what he did to Deku. Hes trying to Atone. He absolutely hates what he did to Midoriya,and The line saying,"No,not for no one". It makes sense!

Katsuki hid his scars and tried to act like a big and tough boy,which in reality..

He was the weak one. That's canon,that was touched apond in the manga

---------------------------------------------------

"Say goodbye ,I don't have the strength to let it all end,I would give all and everything if we could mend,All I wanted was you to stay and not disappear,I've decided I will follow my heart,Promise yours will always be right near me.."

Makes a lot of sense. Let me explain,The "Say goodbye" line is a play on deku leaving U.A,and after that..Bakugou saids this,

"I don't have the strength to let it all end!"

Which is..f***ing heart breaking.. Alright let me bring this up,

---------------------------------------------------

Yes, Izuku's exhaustion and pain is the primary focus, but those tiny details imply that Katsuki Bakugou, the guy who has had a strict bedtime and diet his whole life, who puts every bit of effort into his own health, has completely disregarded his self-care to go after Izuku. Which also implies that his body didn't just move on its own when he risked his life for Izuku. It's further evidence that he isn't just trying to atone for his own sake. This guy straight up stopped taking care of himself because he was WORRIED for Izuku. He stopped sleeping in favor of searching. He reaggravated a very serious injury (one that he got already protecting Izuku) in order to protect him AGAIN.

Which..Makes sense... It shows more of a..Softer caring side of Bakugou. It explains it itself.

---------------------------------------------------

"I would give all and everything if we could mend,All I wanted was you to stay and not disappear,I've decided I will follow my heart,Promise yours will always be right near me.."

Wow. If this is Katsuki..Its makes a lot of sense.. He would give..A lot for him and dekus friendship to be better again. That's why he did the training with him.

He would do anything to make the connection with him and deku because..He,wants to mend with Midoriya. Repair the friendship..

But what is really interesting and important is,that,He said "I've decided I will follow my heart,promise yours will also be right near me!" Which means,it wasn't just not his mortal compass..It was also where his,Heart was leading him too..

Which means,Bakugou doesn't just want to mend things for sake of mortality and heroism,but also,it's because..He feels that he should. And I would say he feeling like he should do this because he feels bad for deku,BUT,he said he wants deku heart to stay near his..which means:

"Close to your heart" is an English idiom describing something or someone dearly loved. It can be used to describe anything that has earned a great deal of affection from a person, often through familiarity with it over time. The meaning of this phrase comes from the fact that the heart is considered the organ of the human body that is the source of all love and affection. As such, anyone or anything that resides close to it will be on the receiving end of those feelings."

❗❗❗❗❗

OHHHHHH----- KATSUKI---

It could be platonic-- but...he wants..There..Hearts to be close?? That's oddly specify..He could just say he want them to be close..The thing is,he didn't even have too say anything about hearts..Hearts are symbolized as,a love thing.

--------------------------------------------------

❗❗❗❗

You're probably asking "Why does this matter???" Well..Ummm..Look at the background. There bubbles,the trope which is used is called love bubbles.

A romantic moment in anime is often accompanied by a pastel background with lots of bubbles. Nobody knows who wanders into all these series with an invisible bubble machine, but maybe they should stop before they get soap in somebody's eye...

Is..Is he blushing..? That explains the bubble and sparkles..

--------------------------------------------------

HuH..???? HOW-

Look I don't know what to tell you.

But if that's not romantic,then I don't know what it is.

----------------------------------------

Peace sign is confirmed to be a bakugou and deku song. He calls this story,MY HERO ACADEMIA,"OUR STORY"...huh..Remember the song "Datte atashi no Hero?" He also called bakugou his hero. Let that sink in.

--------------------------------------------------

Remember shout baby...? Heres more crap to make Bakudeku romantic.

Let's go over that one line again..

Can't sugar code it. Nope. That's romantic in nature. Unless deku has fucking heart problems,this is romantic. No doubt on my end.

Heres something that just plain romantic.

"It’s frustrating that this unusual scent of hair made my heart flutter. So I hid my lips that’s forming a smile under my scarf.."

Wow... This sounds like Bakugou.

Let me explain why it does sounds like Bakugou. Frustration. About something small as that seems like him. It sounds like him too. And also,Bakugou rarely smiles.. I wonder what they where doing which made his heart flutter.

And why it's romantic..? Hear the way that's worded. The person hide the lips after their heart flutters.

--------------------------------------------------

Alright let's go here. This is a song that supposedly between Bakugou and Deku.

youtube

Let's see it here,

❗❗❗❗❗

And the kanji used for this song is not helping.

They use the words like "Suki" Suki is only plantoic when revfiring to non humans. Deku uses it to Katsuki at the end of the song in another translation like this,

Suki da suki da suki da suki da

Context clue:

Suki da,

好すだよ。

Suki da yo.

I like you.

This phrase is commonly used in everyday life. It reveals to the interlocutor that you have feelings for him. It is up to him to interpret the strength of your love.

To avoid misunderstandings, do not tell people with whom you have friendly relations. I already imagine your Japanese friends feeling uncomfortable because they think you are trying to get out of the friend-zone.

Kimi ga daisuki da yo.

大だい好すだ。

Daisuki da.

I really like you.

Daisuki implies that you are a big fan of something when you talk about an object, food or a sports team. This is also the case when you talk about an artist, an athlete or some other famous personality.

But when you say that to someone, it implies that you have strong feelings for that person. These feelings must be beyond normal friendship.

........

*Sigh*

Here's more of the song

"Update! I want to fly, to fly, just to fly so far away, away from here. It can’t be anybody else, I don’t want anybody else. Because I don’t want to regret, I’ve got to say it now,I love, I love, I love, I love,I love being here with you."

The more I read into it. The more the song sounds like Katsuki. And it make sense if somewhat of update is sang by Katsuki.

Think about it. The song said this,

"It's not what you do,or what you say,it who you're with."

And if you think about,someone of these song lyrics sound like Katsuki himself.

This song is blunt. Blunter,then fuck,and you know who's blunt..?

Katsuki.

I'm not saying he sang all of it.. No. Update actually in the outro points about Deku and makes him the main focus. But,these lines make more sense for Bakugou then Deku,

"If you are, you are, you are, you are,If you are with me,Not back, not down, but the reason I was able to see the front only was,You were here"

Those lines make more sense for s5 bakugou and up,then s3 deku. Let me explain why. "The only reason I was able to see the front is because you where here" remember the apology..? If you don't it's chapter 322

Also for a second,let pay attention to this

It can’t be anybody else, I don’t want anybody else.

That's literally at least saying that Katsuki is VERY special to deku. And the context for this is that,who he'd run away with. It's basically saying he'd spend his life with Katsuki away from everybody else..and he would be..Fine..?

That really saying something about his favoritism to Katsuki-

----------•-----------•-----------•-------------•

SEE WHATS WRONG...? If ya don't then,here;

It's really just explains itself,Katsuki and Deku are the only ones here.

----------•-----------•-----------•-------------•

Tags: #bakudeku #decchan #bkdk #Izuku x Katsuki #bkdk canon #katsudeku #deku x kacchan #dkkt #dkbk #wonder duo #bakugou x deku #deku x bakugou #dekugou #dekugo #dekubaku #dyandeku #midoriya x bakugou #bakugou x midoriya #bakumido #bakudeku analysis #bakudoriya #bkdk fluff #bkdk soulmates #Katsuki x Izuku #katsuki x deku #deku bakugou #mha bkdk #long post #twin stars

310 notes · View notes

father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

Would it be to much to ask for a Eren scenario where both he and the reader are both equally toxic, manipulative and possessive over eachother but both just cannot let the other go to the point where even when they reunite when Eren escapes the survey corps he asks her to tell him if anyone else whether it was the army or the jeagerists, if they had touched her even if it was just to escort her which she just nods and refuses to tell him any names cuz she likes to see him riled up by her having been "corrupted" and seeing how with a single act she can have him on edge and he falls for her even more by her devious and selfish wiles to have him get irritated and angry but only to end up wanting more of her charms.

Just some good dark angtsy feels all around🖤

A/N: just a little drabble. i've never done canon-verse stuff for AOT so this was fun to try. thank you sending this ask. i did deviate from your ending a little bit so im sorry <3

Warning: AoT Season 4 Spoilers, extreme possessive behavior, toxic relationship, anger issues, gaslighting/manipulating

Eren can feel himself getting restless. Hange had been getting on his nerves. He was the literally the only reason they had secured their victory against Marley on multiple fronts. She and the rest of the fucking Survey Corps should be bending over backward in gratitude.

He cracks his knuckles although he had no need to, wanting to focus on a physical sensation. His thoughts eventually circle back to you. He misses you sorely.

In Marley, there was this kind child Falco. Eren could say he felt guilty for manipulating the poor boy. But that's not true. He's shed that part of humanity a long time ago. All's fair in war after all.

The fair-haired boy was worried about his friend, didn't want a certain special someone of his to become titanized.

Is this other candidate a girl?

Eren had asked. Because he could relate to the Marelyan child. There was a girl he was trying to protect too, who he'd raise hell over, who he'd destroy the world for.

The dark-haired boy can feel himself grow restless. There are a million things to do. Coups to start. Militia to gather. A brother to manipulate. A world to ruin.

But first, he needs to see you. It's already been so long. He had barked orders to Floch to make sure you were safe and secure. If any hair off your pretty little head was misplaced-well no one wants to witness the rage of the Founding Titan's holder.

CRASH

The ground shakes. Eren closes his eyes and lets the Warhammer titan's power course through his veins. Foolish to think any prison could ever hold him.

He's walking uphill. The sunset bathes the land in vibrant pinks, oranges, and light violets. There is a crowd of people standing tall and at attention, postures rigid, save for one.

You hurl towards him at the speed of light and twice the fury, wrapping your arms around his neck. If Eren wasn't six feet of hard muscle, he would have been knocked off his feet from the vigor of your crushing embrace.

"Eren!" You cry out.

The attack titan vessel is too shocked to respond. He's been anticipating your presence for the longest but to finally feel you in the flesh and to smell your soft pretty scent was sending him into overdrive. He couldn't believe you were tangible and not some hauntingly beautiful apparition.

He wraps his arms around you, enveloping your body in his warmth, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He feels your nimble fingers toying with his hair.

"I like this new look. It suits you." You mummer.

"Like me without a shirt too?" Eren teases.

He forgot how easy it was to be himself around you, to joke and laugh like he wasn't planning a global genocide of epic proportions. No, even that's an understatement. His goal was an omnicide, utter annihilation. Only Paradis will be left after the ashes settle. A Paradis with you.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, eyes wide with an untouched innocence that Eren doesn't know how you still possess. All of that eager wide-eyed optimism had been snuffed out from all of his friends. From him. But you, you don't change like the seasons or winds. You're you.

And that was going to be his ruin.

After the Yeagerists brief him on what happened with Zackley and Zeke Yeager's possible whereabouts, Eren gives into his overwhelming urges to see you.

He approaches your chambers, trying to conceal his impatience with soft knocks. You don't answer which irritates him, so he knocks louder and louder, the sound of his fist banging against the door sounding like thunderclaps.

Where the fuck are you? Were you with someone right now? He knew you were getting a little too friendly with Floch from the way you guys were talking at dinner. It was so obvious. He's been gone, for what, a few months and you're already whor-

The door opens and exposes a sleepy-looking girl whose rubbing one of her eyes. Admittedly, very adorable.

"Eren" Your voice is saccharine, "Do you need anything?"

He lets himself in, and shuts the door behind him, locking it in place.

"I don't usually lock the door," You pout but there's a playfulness in your expression that Eren would have noticed had he not been consumed by rage.

"What? So you let anyone in?" He asks, nearly snarling out the words. as he stares scandalized at your slip of a nightgown. A pale translucent pink that reached the middle of your thighs. He could even make the outline of your nipples poking through.

"No, silly." You giggle, twirling the hem of your dress, "Floch's security measure." You pretended not to notice how Eren's fist clenches.

"Is that so?" Eren said, words spoken between gritted teeth. As long as Eren was here, there need be no concerns over security measures. But he knew Floch. The ginger worshipped the ground Eren walked on and would never make a move on you if he cared about his limbs staying intact.

You sat down on your bed and Eren couldn't help but watch your skimpy dress ride up your creamy thighs.

He stood over you, his form looming over yours as you sat on your bed, feet swinging above the ground.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You look up with those big childlike eyes, "Okay."

"Did. Anyone. Touch. You?" His voice is low and he punctuates each word slowly.

You blink "What do you mean?” But there’s a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Quit playing dumb." He growls, anger evident in the crease between his eyebrows.

You're quiet for a still moment, mouth opening and closing. Eren's anxiety increases more each second and it finally boils over when you softly ask, "What kind of touch?"

Like a chess piece topping over, he shoves you down the bed, pinning your wrists with his strong hands.

Usually, Eren was smarter. Quicker to call you on your tricks. But alas, absence makes the heart fonder. You love making him lose his stoic composure, so lost in his lust and desire for you that all he can see crimson. And if the price for that is to play the fragile maiden, it is what it is.

"Ow." You pitifully whine, lightly shaking your right hand. Eren knew he wasn't holding you too hard so he experimentally thumbs over a certain spot on your right wrist, eliciting another small whimper. He brings your wrist closer to him and finds a purple bruise.

"Who touched you? Was is it any of the yeagerists?" His voice is deadly calm but an ice-cold rage simmers in his eyes. You can feel yourself growing excited, heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. You’re rubbing your legs together for the friction but Eren assumes it a nervous tic to avoid answering any of his questions.

When you avert your gaze and simply look the side, he delicately cradles your cheek: “Was it the scouts?”

The delicate touch turns harsher when you don't respond, forcing your pretty head to look straight at him. He sees your eyes glistening, and when he looks into your dewy irises, he can see himself.

His voice drops a pitch, "Please tell me."

Your breathing is shallower and you can't help but enjoy this so much.

It's been so long since you've seen him-since you begged him not to go but he went anyway, and having him here right now--the pride and joy of the Eldian empire , the holder of the Founding Titan-unravel in your fingertips, well this was the closest to true power you've ever been.

Eren can feel his patience sleeping, anger seeping into his bones at your silence, and the bruise on your delicate wrist only serves to anger him further. He can't even do what he swore to do and that was to keep you safe.

"Are you not telling me who it is because you're protecting them?"

The words are delivered deadly calm with the tension of a brewing storm behind it. You're nervous, exactly aware of what your beau is capable of, but the excited kind of nervous where butterflies are swarming in your stomach.

Maybe you underestimated his anger because within a second, the telltale red lines start to form under his eyes, lightning bright sparks forming between each breath.

Without thinking, you envelop the back of his head with one arm (the other hand rendered useless bu the force of his hold), trying to bring his head into the softness your breasts.

Understanding your gesture, Eren immediately calms down and lets himself be smothered in your chest like a babe being cradled in his mother's warmth.

"There, there" you coo, words soft and melodious on your tongue.

You can feel wet-spots on your nightie, "Eren...are you-" you begin, not sure when to end.

His voice is tightly controlled as if not let his coiled emotions fuse again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was about to hurt you." He sounds so broken, and all you can do is stroke his hair.

You press a kiss to his head. You know what the right words to say are. You should be comforting him and assuring him he could never hurt you.

Instead you stay silent, softly exhaling. He can't see the pleased smile on your face.

"Your wrist feeling any better?"

You whip up your head to see Floch whose peering down at you in slight concern. You must have looked confused because he elaborated, "The one you accidentally banged against the doorway. Looked like it hurt."

"Oh." You pause, looking down at the fresh set of finger shaper marks overtaking the fading violet.

You laugh airily, "Yeah it's alright."

#toxic eren #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #eren yeager x toxic reader #manipulative eren #tw manipulation #tw yelling #tw gaslighting #attack on titan fanfiction #eren yeager x y/n

286 notes · View notes

chyanxrene · 3 years

Text

Sweetheart Part 1

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

♡ Summary: Draco and Y/N are friend’s with benefits, however Draco doesn’t stick by the rules he created, so Y/N decides to teach him one last lesson.

♡ Warnings: Degradation, pure smut, female receiving

Being friends with benefits with none other than Draco Malfoy was— different. Y/N had expected this however wasn't prepared for the extra feelings that came along with it. She wouldn't dare tell him, that was a secret that was kept to herself and herself only.

It all started at the end of 5th year, Y/N had been paired with Slytherin in potions. It only took two weeks for the duo to act on their sexual tension.

Draco had always been outspoken however she was left speechless when he asked Y/N if there was a potion to stop himself from getting hard around her. Let's just say Y/N and Draco were no longer studying potions.

Though there are many benefits of having sex with Draco Malfoy, the quickies between classes, after classes, sometimes during. Y/N couldn't help but want more from him.

It had been almost a year now and they were still in the same place. Y/N began regretting agreeing to Draco's rules, which at the time she didn't care— but after doing the things she done with him, she found it hard not to grow attached.

There were five rules— the consequences if you were to break one was to cut all ties with one another.

1. No catching feelings— At all 2. No sexual relations with anyone else 3. If you are to get in a relationship with another person then let the other know immediately 4. Stays between both parties, no one else should know 5. No catching feelings

The five rules, well technically four were easy at first. But it became harder for Y/N to grasp the fact that Draco would never truly be hers.

It had been a month since the last time they fucked. Usually it was a few times a week— always on Draco's time. But something had changed, she didn't know what. She couldn't just ask him as she was in Y/H/N and he was in Slytherin.

She walked into the great hall and sat on her house's table. She picked apart her food whilst reading over her charms book, her head snapped up when she heard a deep chuckle and a giggle from the Slytherin table.

Her heart sank, she watched as the boy she had feelings for wrap his arm around a blonde witches waist. His mouth was attached to her neck, kissing it lightly, she was blushing and laughing.

Y/N felt sick, she couldn't watch it anymore. Draco had broken rules two and three and didn't even tell her— she had to cut all ties now. She stood up quickly and rushed back to her common room, she sunk into a deep sleep after wetting her pillow with tears.

The next day Y/N woke up, she felt a tension headache from all that crying. But she knew she had to be stronger, she sucked up her tears and decided to get Draco Malfoy back— before she cut all ties.

Y/N was already beautiful, her hair was always well managed. She had a few admirers and was seen as the Y/H/N's sweetheart. Today she wasn't going to be a sweetheart, the anger inside of her wouldn't let her.

She wouldn't change her appearance for him, oh no, she'd never let a boy effect her in that way. She just wanted revenge, her first class was potions, she sat next to Draco in this and this would be the perfect time to initiate her plan.

Y/N completed her normal beauty routine— although she did add an extra layer of lip gloss. With her head held high she walked confidently into potions class, Draco hadn't arrived but she knew he would soon.

"You're late Mr Malfoy" The Professor spoke.

Draco had walked in with his hand slumped over the same blonde girls shoulder. She pecked his cheek and ran to her seat which was at the other end of the room.

"Sorry Professor."

His smell was overpowering, the smell she had grown so accustomed too. It gave her goosebumps but she had to stay strong.

"You're not going to say hello?" Draco whispered, whilst writing notes.

Y/N looked at him, sending him a small smile "you didn't either, but Hello Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" He laughed "You know I prefer it when you call me Draco."

Y/N let out a small laugh "we're not friends."

His eyes caught hers, he smirked and then nodded.

The class went on, Y/N was feeling better about herself however she nearly jumped out of her seat when she felt Draco's hand on her bare thigh.

Y/N's hand pushed his away however his hand only held onto her thigh tighter.

"What are you doing?" She whispered harshly.

"Can my hand not be here anymore Y/N?"

His finger was becoming dangerously close to where she wanted him most. She was aroused, her underwear becoming wet from his soft touches.

"Get off."

"No."

She tried to move his hand he was too strong. He looked around before leaning into her, pretending he was talking about work as he still continued to write notes.

"I want to be inside you Y/N."

Her heart was racing, she wanted that too. She was conflicted, her body was betraying her but her mind was more stronger, time for Plan B.

"Y/N." Draco growled, his finger now stroking up and down her clothed pussy.

She licked her bottom lip "yes?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

Y/N hummed in response as his finger brushed slowly against her clit.

"Meet me in the broom closet after class, I want to feel your wet cunt around my dick."

His finger paused, he was searching for a response, Y/N was suddenly breathless. She couldn't give in to him. Without him knowing he was playing her around, it wasn't fair— but the pleasure he gave her was unmatched.

So she nodded slowly.

Draco smirked "you're a good girl, my good little slut."

Y/N couldn't help but let out a whimper, which resulted in him letting out a short laugh. His fingers were now on the desk, he continued to listen in class as if he wasn't just touching her clit.

Class was soon over, both Draco and Y/N got up slowly. They didn't leave together— no that would be too suspicious. Draco strolled over to his arm candy, he whispered something in her ear, causing her to blush and giggle.

Again Y/N felt stupid, she suddenly wanted the ground to swallow her. His eyes met hers, she knew that look, it was his look to tell her 'go now'.

Within ten minutes Draco had Y/N against the door, attacking her neck with his mouth.

"I can't believe I've managed to wait this long" Draco whispered.

"Did you miss me sweetheart?"

She did, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, so she simply looked away. His hand slowly trailed down her body and slipped under her skirt.

"Don't make me ask twice."

Y/N moaned as she felt her underwear now being tugged down her thighs by him, his thumb brushed her clit slowly, circling it with the right amount of pleasure.

"I-I, oh God."

His middle finger entered her slick pussy, curling and rubbing against her rippled walls. Draco's other hand sharply grabbed a chunk of Y/N's hair, dragging her head back.

"Answer the fucking question."

His breath was heavy on her face as he searched her eyes. His hand was tighter in her hair, she winced at the pain.

"Yes— fuck, I missed you."

His finger pumped in and out, whilst the pad of his thumb rubbed her clit harder.

"Tell me what you missed sweetheart— maybe I might give you it."

Y/N's mind was hazy, her breathing was heavy. Draco's hand was still nestled into her hair, his eyes boring into her own.

"I—I missed— shit."

He added another finger, kissing along her collar bone, they were wet kisses, just like how he liked. He wouldn't dare leave a mark— no that would be wrong.

"Go on, speak."

"I missed, your— mouth."

Draco's tongue ran up the side of her neck, he knew exactly where her sweet spot was. Y/N moaned quietly at this, her pussy was aching for a release.

He hummed in response, his mouth and fingers still working their magic.

"What about my mouth Y/N?"

Draco knew Y/N wasn't comfortable speaking like this, but that only turned him on more. She was innocent in his eyes— she'd let him do anything to her, that’s why he kept coming back.

"Come on sweetheart, use you words— let me hear your voice."

"I missed when you— oh fuck."

A third finger was added, stretching her, she felt full but this was nothing compared to what Draco had in his trousers.

"Do you like when my mouth is on yours? Hmm— or on your clit?"

"B-both."

"My greedy little slut" he laughed.

Draco's hand released Y/N's hair, she could hear the wet noises that came from her pussy as Draco's fingers thrusted in and out of it at a rapid pace.

"You'll be a good girl and cum on my tongue?".

It was more of a statement than a question. Y/N's eyes were screwed shut, her mouth was open slightly, she couldn't think.

Draco slapped her cheek— not hard but enough for a stinging sensation to occur.

"Answer me" he growled.

His fingers never slowed down, they continued fucking her with an unimaginable speed. She was going to cum— soon.

Her eyes widened, she felt her left cheek heat up as the sharp pain wore off.

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Draco."

He fell to his knees, his hand pushed her knee, forcing her to widen her stance. His mouth was on her clit straight away, sucking and biting at his.

The shockwaves of pleasure was amazing, Y/N knew this would be an intense orgasm.

"Oh— God."

"No, say my name— it's me— it's me who's doing this— say my fucking name."

Y/N's head slammed back onto the door as her body arched off it. Draco lifted her right leg over his shoulder, allowing him more access to her pussy.

His fingers now went to her clit whilst his tongue entered her tight hole.

"Yes— Draco" Y/N cried out, one finger entered her again and joined his tongue inside her.

She was close, ready to cum in his mouth. He knew this as he felt her pussy tighten around his finger. His spare hand flicked her clit and then rubbed it quickly.

"Mmm— fuck— Draco."

Y/N's eyes closed as she felt herself cum, her leg was shaking on top of Draco's shoulder. He lapped up her orgasm— humming at her taste. Giving her two more pumps with his finger, he kissed her clit and stood up.

His dick was hard, the outline of it evident against his school trousers. His mouth was lips were wet from her cum.

He took his finger, tracing his lips and then pushing the finger into her mouth. She closed her eyes, sucking on the taste.

"Good girl."

Draco began palming his cock, unbuttoning it and then unzipping it, his eyes were heavy, full of lust.

Y/N who had now regained her normal breath, reached for her underwear and slipped them back on, she smiled at Draco. Who had a puzzled look on his face.

Y/N smiled at him sweetly and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you for the great orgasm."

Draco's face was in a frown now "where the fuck are you going?"

Y/N's hand was on the door handle, opening it slightly. She looked him up and down and then smirked.

"I got better things to do— sweetheart."

And with that she slammed the door shut, Draco's protests were heard as she exited the room. She felt amazing, empowered and satisfied.

But deep down she knew— he would be coming for her and he would be coming with vengeance.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco smut #draco malfoy smut #draco x y/n #harrypotter #harry potter #dracomalfoy

492 notes · View notes

travellingarmy · 3 years

Text

║Diluc║ Surprise!

Requested from Wattpad.

Female reader.

Fluff

Word count: 1.8k

---

You didn't know how long you have been like this-- constant nausea, vomiting, feeling sick in the morning.. You honestly thought you were just sick until the day that Lisa invited you for tea.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Diluc asks, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching as you brushed your hair. You look at the mirror and at the redhead, and with a smile, you answered. "I'll be alright, really."

You could tell that Diluc wasn't buying it, concerned about your wellbeing as you have been feeling unwell for the past couple of days. "Relax, Diluc. I'm really okay, but if something ever happens to me, Lisa will be there," you say calmly and hope that he would loosen up. "And also," you turn to look over your shoulders, "I am one of the captains of the Knights of Favonius. I'm pretty strong if you ask me." You grin, pointing a thumb at yourself.

Diluc straightens himself from where he stood, a small smile adorning his charming face, and moves to where you were. Once close, he cups your face, making you turn your head, and place a kiss on your head.

"Of course," he says right after. You smiled and he brings his lips close to yours until they were touching. He pulls you closer, tangling his bare hands through your locks of hair.

However, that didn't last long and you were the first to pull away to Diluc's disappointment. "You can't trick me into staying, Diluc. I'm still going," you said and lightly laugh. "Fine. Go before I'll make you stay," he said and you laughed once more before standing up.

With a peck on his cheek, you left to go meet up with Lisa who was impatiently waiting on one of the tables situated right outside at the tea shop.

"(Y/N), why took you so long? I almost thought you had forgotten your promise," Lisa greets, crossing her legs one on top of the other. "Haha, sorry.." Was all you could say and took your seat across from her.

"Ah, never mind, as long as you're here, we can spend our day off together enjoying the fresh air," she said. "As much as I enjoy being around the library, it's quite stuffy."

"Although I can't relate with your duties as a librarian, I can understand how nice it is to take breaks from work," you said, beckoning a waitress over to get your order and thanking her once she has written all of your order.

"I knew you would understand, (Y/N)." She sighs, "I don't understand how Jean manages everything all at once.. I insisted that she should take a break today as well but she refuses."

"Well, she'll continue taking all that work until the Grand Master comes back from his expedition. There's no stopping her right now," you said.

"Anyway, enough about work. I don't want to talk about anything related to that as it will ruin my mood," Lisa said, soon bringing up Diluc into the conversation as a change of pace. "So~ How is Master Diluc?"

"Huh? Uh, he's doing well. Why the sudden interest?" you returned with a question, eyes travelling to the waitress that came back with your drink and sweets. It was around quarter to 11 in the morning so you thought that it was okay to eat something a little sweet, and even if it wasn't, Diluc wasn't around to pester you to not eat sugary things around this time.

"What? I can't ask how one of the bachelors of Mondstadt that was suddenly taken by a charming woman is doing?" she jokes, chuckling as she takes a sip of her tea. "You're making me embarrassed," you said, hiding your red cheeks behind your cup

"Haha, you're quite cute like that. I didn't think that the fiery captain could blush like this," she says, continuing to make you embarrass. "Lisa!" She laughs, but stops with her teasing.

You stuff your face with a macaroon, feeling the tingling feeling in your cheeks fading out. However, just one bite and you felt sick, almost vomiting. Oh no, not this again, you thought to yourself.

Lisa was quick to notice and stood up from her seat, making her way to you and resting a gentle hand on your back. "Hey, are you okay?" she asks, clearly showing her concerns.

You waft one of your hands in small motions while the other clutch your stomach, your posture hunching forward. "I'm alright.. I've been having morning sickness is all.."

That was it. That was all that was needed to be heard for the librarian to ask a question you never thought you would hear yourself in public. "(Y/N).. When was the last time you and Diluc have intercourse?"

Your body froze and blinked a couple of times before turning your head back to look at her. "Eh?"

She sighs and goes back to sit down. "I need you to answer my questions honestly, okay?" she says, cupping your hands in hers. "When was the last time you guys, you know, done it together?" she asks.

Your face became warm and pink fast. It was an embarrassing question and felt really uncomfortable to answer, but Lisa was quite serious about this. "W, well, uh, we did it a couple of times the past couple of weeks, I think..?" you gave a vague answer.

She asked a couple more questions before coming to a conclusion. A sigh escape her lips and she looks straight into your eyes. "(Y/N), you're pregnant," she finalize.

"Eh!?" Surprise was written all over your face. You look at your stomach, almost amazed that a human was growing inside you for the past couple of days without your knowledge.

"Well, are you going to tell him?" she asks after she set her cup down, finally able to relax now that the questioning was done with.

You thought about it, taking the long silence to think it through. You loved Diluc just as much as he loves you so there was really no reason to hide this from him. "Yeah, I will tonight." You smiled. But how would should you suprise him?

Lisa told you that it would be best for you to go home and rest so here you were, in the comfort of yours and Diluc's home.

It would take another couple of hours for him to finish with work at the tavern, and with his Darknight Hero work, you estimated that he'll be back close to midnight. So, during that time, you were preparing the surprise.

You weren't the best at making clothes, seeing as you were a knight and not some housewife, so you got Adelinde's assistance. She was very excited to hear news that there would be an additional member of the family so she was more than happy to teah you.

"Master Diluc has been quite lonely since his father death and the separation with his brother," she spoke, cutting through the silence. "So when I saw how much he loved you, I was optimistic that he could find happiness again." You turn your head to look at the woman beside you and in turn, she looks at you, a smile gracing her face. You couldn't help but smile as well.

It was close to midnight and you had taken your work upstairs in your shared bedroom, telling Adelinde to get some rest.

Happy that you were almost close to finishing the surprise, you put your focus on it that you didn't hear Diluc entering the room. He was about to call for you but seeing as you were so concentrated with something on your lap, he became curious and moved quietly to where you sat. He watches over your shoulder as you stitch the last few loose fabrics curiously.

"I did it!" You smiled, raising your work up to your eye level. "Oh? That looks cute, love," Diluc says from behind you. Your skin jumped at the sudden fright and turned your head back to the redhead. "D, Diluc!? When did you.." You reflexively hid the clothing behind you.

"I came not too long ago. I saw how invested you were so I did not bother you," he said. "Can I have a proper look at it?"

You bit your bottom lip. It was now or never. "Before that, let me get something first.." You moved away from the curious man and over to your bedside drawer, taking a small wooden sword that you had someone paint to look like the sword he wields and then going back to him.

"Here you go." You gave him the sword. He eyed it, clearly not sure what to say about it. You then raised the thing you were working so hard on the whole day and waited for any reaction from him. It was much like his close but one fit for a child.

"Did you do that all by yourself?" he asks, not sure where the conversation would lead to. "Well, Adelinde helped teaching me the basics but other than that, yes!"

"I see. Although that is quite impressive, what is it for?" This is when your smile grew wider. "Take a guess."

"Oh? No hints?" He tilts his head to the side. "Hm.. Well, someday a little someone will get to wear this."

Diluc stood there with his fingers hooked under his chin, thoughts drifting off to what little possibilities there could be, eyeing on the tiny clothes.

That didn't take long as a look of surprise took the place of his once calm face. He stares at you, mouth hung open. "(Y/N).. Are you..?" He couldn't form the words, mouth dry from the news.

You nod, biting your bottom lip, a bit nervous of what he was going to say next.

What took centuries was actually a few, long seconds of silence. Then, he surprises you with a hug so tight and warm. Relief washes over you as you returned the hug.

"Please tell me that this isn't a joke.." he whispers. "It isn't, I promise," you reassured and you felt his hug growing tighter, but not enough to actually suffocate you.

He pulls away not too long after, eyes a bit red from joyful tears. "How did you find out?" he asks with obvious excitement. "Lisa told me," you answered.

He pulled you into a long kiss, arms wrapped around your waist, and you returned it with the same amount of love.

"Thank you, for being my light," he said in a low tone, that was close to a whisper, once he broken the kiss. "And thank you for bringing in another angel." You giggled at that.

"I love you, Diluc," you said, loving eyes looking deep into his red, fiery eyes.

"I love you too."

~♡~

#diluc #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact oneshots #diluc x reader #diluc oneshot #lisa minci #genshin x reader #female reader #reader insert #x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader

170 notes · View notes

descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Regained Passion - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 2 - proper meeting

Harry let out a slow breath as he stared into the void in his history class, it had been a full week since he started the dance classes, and almost every day Bert mentioned putting him into a higher experienced class due to his flexibility and the fact that Harry was already a good dancer. But again, Harry wasn’t into the dance class that much, he liked dancing, it's just he didn't like being forced to dance.

His counselor had tried to ask about his first week but Harry was stubborn as usual, even glaring at her during it. She had sighed and rubbed her nose “I can't help you if you don’t open up to me Mr. Hook” Harry had only glared again, he didn’t want or need her help, yeah, he was a little fucked up in the head but if he wanted therapy or a consular, he would get it, not something FG forced on him.

After history finally ended, Harry grabbed his backpack and walked out of the room, sighing in relief as he realized he only had one class left, and it was his favorite, history of sailors and the seven seas. It talked all about pirates and sailors, particularly one of his favorite pirates, Jack Sparrow. One of the few pirates that had escaped isle imprisonment, due to him being pardoned of his crimes after it was discovered that his branding of a pirate had been connected to his freeing of hundreds of slaves.

Harry froze as a now very familiar face stepped into the hall he was walking in, she was looking down at her book, her black backpack hanging off her shoulder, bringing her denim jacket down with it off her shoulder, revealing her gray t-shirt. She suddenly looked up, her sparking (e/c) eyes once again locking with his.

Harry felt the butterflies flood his body again and he ducked into the next hall, away from his class, and pressed himself against the wall, sliding down as he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands ‘what am I doing?’ he thought, gritting his teeth ‘hiding from a pretty girl? What the hell?’

“Are you hiding from me?” Harry jumped and slammed his head against the locker behind him, looking up to see the girl, who had covered her mouth in shock from Harry's sudden motion “Are you okay?”

“Me? Hiding? No-no I don’- I don’t hide” Harry laughed off his embarrassment, standing from the floor and rubbing the back of his head, wincing slightly “I don’ hide from anyone” the girl smirked and rose her brow as she tilted her head.

“I looked up and as soon as I made eye contact you leaped behind the wall, and then stayed there until I came around the corner, I think that classifies as hiding.” Harry pouted at her, his heart going crazy as she laughed. “Now why would you hide from me? Im, not my brother mind you” Harry rose his brow at that.

“Who’s yer brother?” Harry asked, smirking as she made a sour face.

“Chad” Harry grimaced, relaxing a bit as she laughed again.

“I’m so sorry” her eyes widened a bit and she laughed even harder.

“I accept your condolences, he’s not a fun person to be related to, it took me a month to convince half the school that Chad and I are very different even though we're twins” Harry looked at her up at down, she didn’t look like Chad? “I know, fraternal twins though”

Harry hummed, nodding along, he remembered a couple of sets of twins on the isle, and even when they were “identical” twins, they didn’t look exactly like each other sometimes. “You’re Harry Hook, right?” Harry nodded again, ignoring the flutter of his heart as she said his name “I’m (y/n), (y/n) Charming” (y/n) held out her hand, giving Harry a warm smile.

“Dinne think yeh would even say hi ta me, considering wha’ yer brother has probably told yeh ‘bout meh” he took her hand, stilling for a moment as he felt a small shock ran up his arm and through his body. Shit what the hell was going on with him!?

“Well,” (y/n) laughed, once again sending butterflies through his gut “after almost 18 years of dealing with his dumbass, I've learned to not trust his word, if he says you’re a ‘filthy pirate’ then you aren’t all that bad” Harry smirked and shook his head, not seeing (y/n) freeze for a moment and stare at his lips.

“Yer somethin’ else I’ll tell yeh tha’” he laughed, biting the inside of his cheek as (y/n) looked away from him and fixed her backpack strap. “What’s yer next class?”

“Um-“ (y/n) started, pursing her lips a bit as she thought “Oh! History of sailors and the seven seas!” Harry couldn’t help the smile that grew on his lips.

“Same ‘ere, shall I escort yeh yer highness?” (y/n) gave him a look, then smiled.

“You may” (y/n) laughed, taking his arm as he offered it and they chatted quietly as Harry walked them both to class.

Harry threw his pencil on his table as he finished his English homework, leaning back in his chair and sighing. “Hey, Harry?” Uma started, looking up from her magic homework (a new class that FG had made for the magic endowed vks that needed to learn how to control their magic safely) “You made goody-goody with Chad's sister right?” Harry looked over his shoulder to her, raising his brow.

“Aye? Why?” a devious look overcame Uma’s face, and Harry sat up “Uma” Harry started, a warning tone to his voice, they had just gotten to Auradon two months ago, at the start of the school year, and he loved Uma with all his heart but if she was trying to plan to overtake Auradon by using (y/n) he would have to put his foot down (which he didn’t know why he would defend the girl so eagerly, even turning against his oldest friend like that)Auradon was a lot nicer than they thought and he’d rather not lose the comfy bed and fresh food he had just gotten.

“Oh chill!” Uma scoffed, waving her hand and rolling her eyes “I’m not planning any takeovers or whatever, I wanted to know if she gets along with her brother or not” Harry mentally sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair again.

“Um, no, I said sorry to her that she was his sister and she accepted my condolences, called him a dumbass too” Uma smirked again, a glint in her eye…he knew that glint, it was the glint of pranks “Oh! Do yeh want me ta-“

“Yes,” Uma interrupted him, rubbing her arms together as he saw a plan forming in her mind “ask her if she wants to help us prank Chad, fucker decided to ‘accidentally” Uma used finger quotes “spill grape juice all over my new jacket, and we all know that shit stains, didn’t even apologize either” Harry grit his teeth. Chad, one of the very few teens at Auradon prep that still harassed the vks, he was a bully and a thief, something Harry could respect on the isle but even on the isle you didn’t bully Uma without getting Harry’s hook to your face.

“I’ll ask ‘er when next time I see ‘er, we don’ have a lot of classes together, and her dance class ends after mine” Uma smirked at that, leaning into her hand.

“How are those going by the way?” Harry just let out a raspberry, and Uma fell back on Gil’s bed, laughing away.

The next day, after Harry's dance class, he waited outside (y/n)s room, standing awkwardly and out of place as others passed by him, some looking at him oddly while others ignored him or simply glanced at him.

There were one or two flirtatious looks but Harry ignored those, continuing to wait for (y/n). about fifteen minutes of waiting, the class finally ended, and as (y/n)s fellow dancers exited the room, many of them stared at him, whispering amongst themselves for a moment before one turned to him. “(y/n)s talking to Esmerelda, she’ll be in there for a moment” She had a strong French accent and Harry nodded in thanks, the group finally moving on as the girl who had spoken up pushed them away from the room.

After a couple more moments of waiting Harry got impatient, walking up to the door and peeking in, seeing (y/n) standing in front of Esmerelda, looking down at her feet “(y/n) your posture is perfect, your leg is always perfectly straight during the Penché, everything you do during practice is perfect but…there's just no…passion (y/n), where is it? You are only doing the steps, you aren’t feeling the music, where is the love, the sorrow, the yearning? This is a dance to convey two people falling in love (y/n), and I don’t see any of it coming from you” Harry felt his chest hurt as Esmerelda sighed, looking away from (y/n) who stayed silent. “(y/n) if you can't find the passion I need for the piece…I’m going to have to switch you out, I’m sorry” (y/n) looked up at that, and Harry couldn’t see her face but he could tell there were tears in her eyes “You are one of my best dancers (y/n), but without passion, you are doing nothing but following the steps.” (y/n) nodded slowly. Esmerelda smiled and took her chin “You just have to find your spark again, I know you can do it…I’ll see you tomorrow” (y/n) nodded again, turning to grab her bag.

Harry ducked out of the doorframe and went back to lean against the wall, looking down at his converse as he waited for (y/n). “Harry?” he looked up, (y/n) walking toward him from the door and tilting her head “What are you doing here?”

Harry smirked, it turning to a smile as (y/n) smiled back. Good, that meant she wasn’t super down from her talk with Esmerelda. “I was wonderin’ if yeh wanted ta help Uma n’ I prank Chad~” Harry had hardly finished his sentence before (y/n) grinned, stepping even close to him.

“Hell yes!” Harry shared her grin and offered his arm again, walking her out of the building and back to the dorms to Uma’s room, where Uma would tell them her plan.

Two days later, Chad’s hair was puke green. And he didn’t suspect a damn thing, even as (y/n) held her laughter as she stood next to him, sharing a sly thumbs up with Harry and Uma as they cackled at him.

“You’re definitely cut from a different fabric princess” Uma chuckled, Harry moving to the side of the bench he and Uma were sitting on as you walked over to them when Chad bolted off screaming after realizing his hair was green (for someone who stared at himself almost all day it took him a while to notice his hair) (y/n) grinned in thanks and plopped down next to Harry, not noticing Uma’s smirk as Harry scooted closer to (y/n).

“I’ll take that as a compliment” (y/n) laughed, leaning against the table and looking towards the door “How long do you think it’ll be before Chad suspects us?”

“Three days” Gil decided, suddenly appearing and sitting down next to Uma. And as usual, holding a bowl of grapes “I give it three days”

(y/n) hummed at that, tapping her fingers on the table “Well Chad is smart,” (y/n) laughed a bit at Uma and Harry's look of ‘really?!’ “I know shocking…well less smart more cunning, but I say he’ll either figure it out by the end of the day or he’ll bolt up in the middle of the night and then figure it out, can't say which or when, but it’s one of those”

“By the way,” Gil interrupted (y/n), pointing his finger right at her “who are you?” Gil had been out of the room every time (y/n) came over to Uma or Harry and Gil's room to plan for the plank, so oddly enough he had yet to meet (y/n) before today.

“Gil!” Harry hissed through his teeth, Uma smirking once more at his reaction. (y/n) laughed and held out her hand.

“I’m (y/n), (y/n) Charming, Chad’s sister” Gil took her hand and shook it, giving her a sympathetic look.

“I’m so sorry” (y/n) laughed again, unknowingly sending a flurry of butterflies through Harry again.

“Harry said the same thing a couple days ago, I accept your condolences” Gil released (y/n)s hand and went back to his grapes as Uma intertwined her hands and looked at (y/n)

“So you and Harry go to the same dance school, right? Do you ever dance together?” Harry felt his cheeks turn red at the question and he pouted at Uma, not really wanting to bring up the topic of the classes he hated so much.

“I guess? Different classes but same building, I’m a ballet dancer, been one since I was a kid. Harry, I think is still in the beginner class but Harry?” He glanced at (y/n) with a raised bro and a hum “You said Bert’s thinking of upgrading your placement?” Harry huffed and leaned on his hand.

“Aye, somethin’ bout me being a higher level than beginner, I dinne kae I din’ listen more than tha’” both Uma and (y/n) hummed at that. “I din’ even wan’ ta do the damn classes in the first place so I don’t see why I should level up or whatever” Harry grumbled, pouting at nothing.

Uma forced the grin off her face. Harry, ever since he had made friends with (y/n), started to be more…enthusiastic when going to the studio, no longer dragging his feet. And after the first time he picked up (y/n) from her class he did it the next day, and the next. Uma knew Harry and she knew he was catching feelings for the princess, even if he himself didn’t realize it yet.

Harry had only known the princess for about a month now, but Uma could tell when Harry liked someone, and he really-really liked (y/n), he wouldn’t admit it until he knew what words to connect his feelings yet but, Uma could wait.

Now, Uma wouldn’t do anything to push Harry and (y/n) together yet, she didn’t know if (y/n) shared any feelings about Harry, but once Uma did find out? Oooh, it was going to be fun.

But for now? Uma watched (y/n) and Harry talk, smiling behind her hand at the sparkle within Harry's eye, she would sit and watch their relationship bloom.

-end of part 2-

part 2~ hope yall enjoyed and like (y/n) so far, and i do want to put a *sprinkle* of angst in this so it'll come with (y/n)s struggle to show feeling in her dance and maybe some Chad shenanigan's anyway~ yeah i think this will be a 10 part series at most, and im liking where its going atm.

anyway im gonna draw a blue ballgown now because i don't like any of the designs i found on google or Pinterest

Permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @thecaptainsgingersnap @rintheemolion

@imtryingthisout @verboetoperee @jatp-rules-my-life

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #chads sister reader #chad charming #ballet dancer reader #dancer reader

113 notes · View notes

errorpeachy · 4 years

Note

Helloo!! I just discover your page and even tho you only have one fic I already love itt!!! I finished hxh last night and my heart need more💔💔 could you do a Killua x reader, they know each other since they were babies and their families wanted them to get married, but when Killua find out that’s when he escaped and maybe after that the reader escaped too but they don’t see each other until they are like 20 or something like that. Btw sorry for my English I suck hehehe.💕💕

I can absoLUTELY do this! And don’t worry bb, your English is great💞 I’m doing a scenario for this one~

𑁍 No Take Backs! 𑁍 《Killua x Reader》

“Hey, Hey, Killua!” You shouted, running up to him with enthusiasm. He glanced at you, raising a brow. “What is it, Y/N?” He asked, turning to you. Smiling, you took his hand in yours. “I have something to show you! Follow me!” You said, pulling him along as you walked through the forest that surrounded his house.

Fighting your way into a clearing, you watched him let out a small noise of shock. It was a beautiful, crystal clear lake, one he had never seen before. Flowers surrounded the area and light shone onto the water, making it look drastically different from his dreary house. “How did you find this, Y/N? I live here and even I haven’t seen it before.” He said, looking at you. You grinned, pointing to the scrapes on your knees. “I fell into this clearing when I went exploring. Cmon, let’s swim!” You said, jumping in fully clothed. He paused before shrugging. “Ah, what the heck.” He said before jumping in, making a big splash which caused you to giggle.

“Hey Killua?” You asked, swimming over to him. He looked up at you, shaking his head to get some of the water off of him. He looked kind of like a dog, you thought. “Yeah Y/N?” He answered, powder blue eyes staring back at you. “Let’s stay best friends forever, ‘Kay?” You said, smiling up at him. He turned pink, looking away. “Sure, I guess. You’re not THAT bad.” He muttered, causing you to smile. You were used to his antics, he acted like this ever since he could talk. Even though you two were 12, he hadn’t changed a bit.

“Okay, but no take backs!”

You woke up to the sound of arguing. You were sleeping over at the Zoldyck household, since Killua’s mom practically begged you to stay over. She was almost as protective of you as she was her own son.

Your feet met the cold wood floor of the guest bedroom as you got out of bed. Rubbing your eyes, you fixed your sleepwear before quietly opening the door. You could use Zetsu, however they would all notice it more if your aura suddenly disappeared rather than just moving around. You snuck around to the stair railing, peering between the wooden rails as you watched Killua argue with Milluki and his mother.

“I’m not marrying them!” He shouted, crossing his arms. Milluki rolled his eyes. “You should be glad mother is allowing you to marry someone in the first place, Killua!” He shouted back. Killua glared at him, before looking at his mother. “I want a choice in who I marry! Just cause we’ve been friends since we were little doesn’t mean we’d be a good match!” He said to her. “You two don’t have to be a good match to have good grandchildren. You’re the heir to the family business, and they easily match you in strength. I’m sure you two will have powerful children.” She said, causing him to give her a disgusted look. You were equally as grossed out. Sure, you did have a small crush on Killua, but children was something you definitely didn’t want to think about as a child yourself.

“Why are you even thinking about that?! I’m twelve!” He shouted. You nodded quietly in agreement, thinking it was really weird. His mother had always been a little... odd.

“Because it’s what you should be focused on! You need to take on the family business and marry the right person, and Y/N is that person!” She said, with Milluki nodding next to her. Killua huffed. “Then I’m leaving!” He shouted, storming over to the stairs. Milluki grabbed his arm. “Killua, where do yo-“ he started, but was cut off as Killua grabbed his wrist tightly with his free hand, giving him an ice cold stare. “Milluki. Let go of me.” He threatened lowly. His brother scoffed, grip tightening. In a flash, Killua dug a spare knife out of his pocket and stabbed him in the arm, causing him to reel back in shock. It was honestly a little funny, in a twisted way. His mother rushed over to Killua, pleading in her high pitched voice. He whipped around, and in an instant, she was holding her bleeding face. Her visor was knocked on the ground as she covered her face and called for her husband.

Walking up the stairs, he went over to where you were crouched down. “You’re so nosy, Y/N.” He teased, poking your cheek. You pouted. “You said you were leaving.” You muttered, looking at him. He sighed. “I am. I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you. It doesn’t feel right. I need to get out of this family business and be something that’s not related to assassin life.” He said, patting your head. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you gulped them down. You got up onto your knees and hugged him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like vanilla.

“I’m gonna miss you, Killua.”

“I will too.”

Ten years had gone by since that night. After Killua left, you had gone over his last words to you in your head. You decided to quit your family business and become a hunter at the age of 14. Since then, you had been doing freelance jobs and earning money. Life was good. You still had memories of Killua, where you two stayed up and told ghost stories with a flashlight under his soft sheets or splashes around in the clear waters of you two’s secret lake. You hadn’t seen him since he left, but you thought of him often.

Shaking your head, you laced up your shoes. You had a match against some random person in Heaven’s Arena, and you were supposed to go fight in less than a minute. Standing up, you rushed to the tunnel, waiting for them to announce your name.

“And here we have the returning powerhouse, Y/N L/N!”

You stepped out onto the stage, smiling as you waved at the crowd. Scanning the audience, your eyes met a pair of blue ones.

Powder blue.

White hair.

It couldn’t be... could it?

You felt the air leave your lungs. It was him. It had to be. He looked grown up by now- of course he would, he would be 22. You blinked, trying to focus as the fight started.

‘I might as well show off a bit.’ you thought.

The fight was almost criminally easy. You defeated the guy rather quickly before rushing off the stage, not even staying for your victory announcement. Running through the halls, you slammed straight into another person, causing you to fall back.

“Ouch! Sorry!” You said, looking up. The boy had green hair and light brown eyes, as well as a kind smile. He offered a hand to help you up, which you accepted. “It’s alright. You did great in your fight!” He complimented, causing you to smile back. “Oh, thanks! I-“

“Gon! I was looking for you, whe-“ A familiar voice said, pausing. You looked over to see who it was. Your eyes lit up as you rushed over to him.

“Killua! Oh my god, it’s been so long! I’ve missed you so much!” You shouted, hugging him. He turned red, patting your head. “Baka! Don’t say that stuff, it’s embarrassing...” he muttered. You smiled, knowing he was still the same boy you knew long ago. The boy, who’s name you now knew as Gon, looked at the two of you confused. “You know them, Killua?” He asked. “Yeah. We grew up together, but I left to take the hunter exam when we were little and I hadn’t seen them since.” He said. You nodded, smiling at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Gon!” You said, and he nodded back. “Same here!” He said.

You turned to Killua. “Come sleep over at my place! We have to catch up!” You said. He gave a smirk, looking away playfully. “I don’t know, what if people get the wrong idea?” He asked, smirking. You smacked the back of his head. “Ow!” He said.

“Don’t be a pervert!” “Fine, fine, I’ll come over. Only cause you asked.”

Fixing the white sheets on your guest bed, you walked out to see what Killua was up to. He was sat on the couch, watching some sort of TV show about... superpowers? You sat down next to him, leaning on his shoulder. He froze, blue eyes gazing over at you. “What?” He asked, seeing you give him a gentle stare. You smiled softly. “I really missed you, Killua.” You said, hugging him. He turned red, pushing you gently by the head. “Don’t say stuff like that! It’s embarrassing...” He muttered, cheeks pink as you continued to have your arms locked tightly around his waist.

“Why did you leave without me?” You asked quietly, causing him to pause. “I needed to find myself, I needed to become something that was detached from the Zoldyck name. I figured becoming a hunter would do that, and it did. I met some really nice people, Gon being one of them.” He said, gently stroking your hair. You nodded, agreeing silently. You completely understood why he wanted to do that, but something that had been eating you alive for the last ten years had you asking one more question.

“When you said you didn’t want to marry me... was that true?”

His hand stilled, gently resting against your head as he thought quietly. “It wasn’t necessarily true, but I did feel like it wasn’t something that needed to be talked about.” He said, carefully choosing his words. You reached up and gently moved his hand off of your head, holding it in your own instead. “Ever since you left I worried about you. I know you’re strong, but I always thought about whether you were alright or not. I missed you so much- not a day went by with your name not popping up in my head.” You confessed, feeling your face heat up as you buried your face into his chest.

He still smelled like vanilla.

He tended up, his face turning red as he flicked your head. “You’re so embarrassing...” he muttered. “I’m telling the truth, though.” You said softly, looking up at him. He stated back at you, his eyes shining with... love? Was that what it was? It didn’t really matter.

“I’m in love with you, you know. You’re so stupid, making me like you.” He said, looking away as he turned bright red. He looked adorable, his cheeks puffed out due to embarrassment. You smiled, leaning up and giving him a gentle peck on the lips.

“No take backs.” You said, giggling. He rolled his eyes playfully before giving you a gentle smile.

“I’d never want to anyways.”

#killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #killua tag #killua headcanons #hxh x reader #hxh scenarios #hxh headcanons #hxh imagines #hunter x hunter #hxh 2011 #killua hxh

490 notes · View notes

novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

Hey novel!!!! you are the most talented author on this site. Your portrayals of jamie and Dani are so deep and relatable and expand two wonderful characters into even more.

I know you are crazy busy and swamped with requests, but would you consider writing a one-shot about the famous deleted scene when jamie wakes up when dani tries to leave and convinces her to stay? (Or doesn’t, however you’d want to write it!)

Just a thought, I totally understand if you don’t have the time or are not feeling it!

The dream is the last straw.

There are moments in your life, Dani Clayton thinks--with a clarity that seems unfathomable for this late hour--you simply can’t turn away from. Or, more accurately, you could--but you wouldn’t be you anymore, turning back. You’d be something else. Something untenable.

The dream is one such moment. The certainty of it is one such awful, harrowing moment.

Jamie’s expression never changed. Never faltered. Never so much as twitched away from that quietly-expectant misery--and that trust, even as the hand closed around her throat. Even as she went under. The trust, more than anything, will haunt what time she has left.

Because Jamie does trust her. Always has. Always, Dani knows, will, even if it’s the worst thing for her.

Jamie will trust in Dani Clayton until it kills her, unless Dani does something about it first.

And so, when she wakes with her hand inches from Jamie’s throat--when she wakes with the tips of her fingers brushing the slow, steady thrum of Jamie’s pulse--she makes the choice. The hard call. She makes it like a woman, a thousand years ago, made a choice to turn away from a bad marriage before it could land. The way a woman, a hundred years ago, made a choice to turn toward an uncertain future born of a dark lake. She makes it with the calculated, unshakeable certainty that, every so often, you have to make this kind of choice. Because it’s essential. Because you couldn’t live with the person you’d be if you didn’t.

She moves slowly, counting every breath that leaves Jamie’s parted lips. Jamie, who sleeps so comfortably in this bed. Jamie, whose nightmares soothed themselves in the wake of Dani’s hands on her skin over the years. Jamie, who carries more than enough scars of her own without bearing Dani’s burdens, too.

She moves, sliding off of Jamie’s body, sliding off the mattress upon which they’ve had thirteen good years. Thirteen solid, loving, happy years. That isn’t nothing, she assures herself. That is so much more than the woman she’d been all those years ago, freshly freed and freshly haunted again in equal measure, had thought she deserved.

Thirteen years in this bed. Reading, talking, kissing, sleeping. Thirteen years. It isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough. But it’s not nothing, and Dani tells herself--with the solid assurance of the dream--she can make do. Thirteen years of Jamie’s accent wrapped lovingly around her name. Thirteen years of Jamie’s hands seeking hers out across the dinner table. Thirteen years of petty arguments resolved with tearful apology, or with giggly kisses, or with the steadiness of Jamie’s eyes meeting hers. Jamie nodding. Gold rings holding firm against the dark.

It’ll never be enough. And maybe Jamie won’t forgive her for this. But there are things a person can’t live with becoming--and even knowing how close she’s come tonight to brushing up against the shadows she’s been carrying for too long is...it’s...

Enough, she tells herself, knowing it’s a lie and a truth and a promise.

She doesn’t pack. What does a dead woman toss into a carry-on? There will be no final costume change, no coiffed hair or carefully-applied makeup. She’s more or less given up on all of it, anyway, exhaustion draining her dry even on the rare occasion the mirror doesn’t leer in her direction. Jamie doesn’t seem to mind. Jamie doesn’t seem to mind any of it.

I’ll feel everything for the both of us, she says, and she means it every single time. Means it the way Jamie can’t help. The way only Jamie has ever known how. It never, ever comes from a place of pretty words, with Jamie. Never comes from a should be this, a script without heart. Jamie can’t not say it. Jamie can’t not mean it.

Jamie can’t not trust her.

So Dani has to go.

Her hand is on the door, her head bent forward against the familiar wood. This door, through which Jamie walked so recently with that all-important piece of paper. This door, through which Dani walked so many years ago with a plant in her hands and a promise on her lips. This door. She’s stopped seeing it, hasn’t she? Juggling groceries, or mid-conversation, or pushing Jamie hard against it with a flare of passion. The door has become, like so many things, a standard piece of set dressing. Irrelevant, compared to the story. Forgettable, compared to the intricacies of the day.

And now, this final time, her hand on the knob--now she thinks, I will remember. This door. This apartment. The walk, made so many thousands of times, from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen. The couch, where Jamie often dozes over a book with her legs sprawled in Dani’s lap. The rug, picked out together the first year living together. The photos on the wall, the postcards on the fridge, so many tiny memorials to the people they’ve grown into together.

I will remember, she thinks fiercely, all of it.

Foolish, to stop. Foolish, to give in to this moment of such human weakness. Such human fear. If she could only keep walking in a single, unbroken line--like she would, like the path taken up those stairs and into that wing over and over again--she’d have been on the street by now. She’d have been calling a car by now. She’d--

“You’re not even going to leave me a note?”

She closes her eyes. Presses her face harder against the door. The memories, she thinks, have snagged her as she should have expected. As memories always do. Hadn’t it been memory, keeping her with Eddie longer than she should have stayed? Hadn’t it been memory, keeping her in contact with a mother who had long unplugged? Memory, in the end, is as much a gravity well as a blessing. A treasure like love is so dangerously good at being multiple things at once.

A thing like need. A thing like fear.

A thing like I don’t want to go.

Jamie doesn’t sound angry, exactly. Her voice is ragged with sleep, and with something so quietly broken, Dani can’t stand to look at it. That sound, that unfamiliar tension, has been creeping into Jamie’s voice more and more lately. A sob unuttered. An unfamiliar desperation.

Jamie doesn’t do desperate. Jamie doesn’t do terror. Jamie is a solution with a grin, a pair of strong hands holding Dani steady when the world rocks around her without pause. Jamie is a foundation. A bedrock. A gloriously embedded series of roots, planted with hope, tended with care, turned from a pot into a home with time and effort and love.

Jamie is waiting now. Quiet. Not angry, exactly--but not forgiving, either. Hurt, Dani thinks, recognizing at last that utterly unfamiliar note. She’s hurt. I’ve never hurt her before.

She’s frustrated Jamie over the years, plenty of times. Upset her. Knocked up against exposed nerves she hadn’t known to look for. She’s made Jamie grumpy, even angry a few times--and Jamie’s done the same in return. Two people can’t share a single life without crossing boundaries from time to time. Without finding fragility under overturned stones. But it’s always been fixable. Always been so clear, where the repairs were needed to get them back on track again. They’d never gone to bed angry, not once in thirteen years, because you can’t promise tomorrow. You can’t promise a chance to make it right if you let it go too long.

You can’t promise.

Dani can’t promise.

“Not even going to answer?” That old Jamie grit, winding into the syllables, but the hand that brushes between her shoulder blades is soft. Jamie isn’t angry. Jamie is hurt. Jamie is scared. Jamie is half-asleep and so awake, and if Dani turns--if Dani looks now--

Tell her, some panicked part of her pipes up. Tell her what happened. What you almost did. What you’re going to become.

She won’t care, the more rational part replies. Jamie trusts her. Jamie wants to carry it all for her. Jamie will carry her until it tears her open to do it, and then she’ll keep going. Jamie, even with blood staining the carpet and heart hanging out of her chest, would never know how to stop.

Jamie would drown, if Dani let her. If Dani were coward enough, selfish enough, to let the fear win.

“Dani.” The way no one else has ever said her name, she thinks with eyes still scrunched shut. No one has ever formed those two syllables the way Jamie does. Like an oath. Like an I love you. Like an I’m listening. I’m here. I’m not going away.

“Dani,” she says again. “Come back to bed. Please.”

It’s the please, Dani thinks as she turns at last, as she takes in the sight of this woman with whom she wants only to share her life, that does it. The please, a word that feels too much like begging to suit their thirteen years of equilibrium. Jamie, especially, doesn’t beg. Jamie listens. Jamie understands. Jamie fixes. Jamie doesn’t plead, or demand, or insist.

Jamie, looking at her now with rumpled hair, in only a sleep shirt and a grim expression. Jamie, who’d sounded so shattered, saying those words. Come back to bed. Please. Like she knows already what Dani is doing. Like she knows already that there are things a person can’t come back from.

Tell her no, the rational side thinks. Tell her no. Tell her you love her. Tell her there’s nothing that matters even half as much as that, not even this moment. Tell her goodbye.

I don’t, Dani thinks with helpless misery, already reaching out a hand, want to go.

She’ll remember every step, later. Every step back to the bedroom. Every step with Jamie’s hand solid and soft in her own. The way Jamie walks with shoulders straight, with chin up, even as tired as she is. The way Jamie waits until she’s between the covers again before she’ll climb in, too.

The way Jamie holds her as she sobs. As they both lose the composure they’ve spent too long clinging to. The way the mattress shakes beneath them, her face pressed to Jamie’s neck, the thrum of Jamie’s pulse ragged against her lips.

She’ll remember it all, later. She needs to remember. Every step. Every kiss Jamie presses to her hair. Every stroke of Jamie’s hands down her back. She needs to remember it all.

You’re not even going to leave me a note?

She will. She will do that much, she promises herself, as Jamie’s tears slowly wane. As Jamie’s breath slowly evens out. As Jamie, confident that she has--once again, as she has so many times before--fixed the problem, lets sleep wash the fear away.

She’ll leave a note. She’ll try to get it all down, somehow. She’ll do her best.

But first. First, for a little while longer, she’ll stay. Jamie’s heartbeat is so familiar, a metronome of security beneath her head. Jamie’s breath is so familiar, a lullaby she’s been falling asleep to for almost fifteen years. Jamie, who makes a soft sound in her sleep and holds Dani all the closer, like she’s been doing for as long as anything has ever mattered.

Jamie, who may never forgive her, but who will certainly have to understand. Someday. Somehow. Jamie has understood it all, even when she shouldn’t have. Even when there was no rhyme or reason to it. Jamie is good at listening. Jamie is good at piecing it all together.

Jamie is so good.

She’ll leave a note. She’ll do that much. But not yet. Not quite.

Dani Clayton, folded in the embrace of the woman who loves her most, does not want to go.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #sort of can't believe i've never actually written out this scene #for all the times it's been requested #think I always just found it a little too raw #but raw is my mood today anyway so...finally was time I guess #sad as I am that we'll never see this scene as filmed #I honestly wonder if my heart could take it

113 notes · View notes

fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

on the coastline of memories

a second part to this!

“You shouldn’t do it,” Armin says gently, his eyes an endless sea of sorrow.

“The commander is gone, Captain,” Jean tells him, his voice quiet and bitter. “There is nothing left of her.”

“It would only make the pain so much worse,” Mikasa adds, weary and heartbroken.

“Hange-san wouldn't have wanted you to suffer,” Connie agrees with a faraway look. “None of them would.”

And, maybe, they’re right, Levi thinks, looking at their worn-out faces. Maybe, it’s better this way. Maybe, he should just let go.

He can’t.

So he packs a few changes of clothes, takes a few things from the office, from her office, and boards the first ship, headed towards Odiha.

A journey by plane would take a lot less time, but after all he has been through, after her sacrifice — Levi doesn’t trust planes that much.

***

He gets off the ship and someone immediately approaches him. He turns his head to the side – damn his lost eye – and sees a Cart Titan, Pieck, standing beside him.

“Captain,” she greets. “May we have a talk?”

Levi doesn’t understand the reason for it, what could they possibly talk about it? But he nods and follows after Pieck, as she leads him to a more secluded area.

“I’m not sure if that’s true,” she fidgets, wriggling her fingers and looking slightly above his shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. Watching her behave so awkwardly around him, Levi is hit with a realization – she is still so young. How old is she? Twenty? A bit more? She’s not much older than the brats from his own squad. So young and already she’s seen so much, lost too much, but— Levi muses, he was all the same. All of them – Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit - they were young. Too young for this war. Too young to die.

Hange— Hange was too young to die too.

Levi shakes his head, chases those thoughts away. They’re pointless, they bring nothing but pain. Instead he focuses on Pieck.

“There are reports about… someone living in the abandoned cabin near the port. I went to check, albeit from afar, but it seems…” she pauses then, and looks at Levi, tilting her head. “Maybe, you should sit down?”

“I’m not an old man,” Levi grunts, despite feeling very much like one. “What were you saying?”

Truthfully, Levi doesn’t pay much attention to what Pieck is saying. Something about an abandoned cabin, about someone occupying it… what relation does it have to him?

“I was saying,” Pieck looks straight into his eyes, her gaze unwavering. “I think Commander Hange is alive.”

Levi blinks – once, twice, thrice, but he doesn’t understand. What Pieck is saying… it can’t possibly be true. And if that’s not the truth, then it can only be—

“Is this a joke?” he says in a low voice, an almost forgotten feeling of cold fury washing over him. He clenches his hands into fists and they tremble from barely restrained anger, as he glowers at Pieck. “Do you think that’s funny?”

“No!” Pieck cries out, and the distress on her face looks fairly genuine. It chases some of his anger away. “I couldn’t believe it myself, and I’m not one hundred percent sure yet, Commander’s face isn’t the same as it was, but—”

“Show me then,” Levi demands, cutting off her ramblings with a surprising desperation. He can’t believe Pieck, won’t believe her until he sees a living, breathing proof. But he gives her words the benefit of a doubt. It’s not hope, he persuades himself, he can’t afford to hope. He doesn’t think he’d be able to recover when it inevitably gets shattered.

“Of course,” Pieck easily agrees. “But before we go, I have to warn you – Commander isn’t the same as she was.”

“So you’ve told me.”

It’s natural, he thinks. If Hange was able to survive – which he still doesn’t believe in – of course, she wouldn’t be left unscarred. His face isn’t the same as it was too, after all.

“No,” Pieck shakes her head. “You don’t understand. I think she lost her memories. I’ve tried approaching her once, when she was visiting a nearby town, but— Commander didn’t even recognize me.”

Levi reflects on her words. He knows Pieck is sure that she had seen Hange, she wouldn’t have approached him or gone through all the trouble of finding him if she wasn’t. He doesn’t know her that well, but former Cart Titan doesn’t strike him as a cruel or imprudent person.

Pieck is sure that Hange is alive.

Levi doesn’t know how to feel about it. On the battlefield, he trusted Pieck with his life. But it’s not his life that is at stake right now, it’s his heart. And if it breaks one more time, Levi is sure – he will break too.

“Lead the way,” he asks in a quiet, faint murmur.

He doesn’t dare to hope. But as he follows after Pieck, he’s filled with nervous anticipation.

***

“Here,” Pieck raises a hand, pointing her finger at a small cabin at the coastline, hidden between two large trees. “Commander lives here.”

Levi looks at it, waits for something to happen. And then— something happens.

A person walks out of the cabin, oblivious to the company that watches them.

Levi squints his one remaining eye, gets a better look at that person— and feels his knees buckle.

It’s her, it’s Hange, there is no doubt about it. She’s standing far away from him, and Pieck was right, she doesn’t look like she used to – with burns adorning her face and half of her hair missing, but Levi recognizes her right away. It’s the way she holds herself, the way her shoulders are slightly slumped and her head is held high, as she stares at the horizon.

It’s Hange, she’s alive, Levi realizes, and sinks down to his knees.

“Hey, hey!” Pieck looks down at him, alarmed. “Are you alright?”

Levi glances at Hange once again, and he almost smiles. “I’m good.”

***

Once the initial shock washes over him, leaving him only slightly dazed and breathless, Levi gets back to his feet. He wants to go to Hange. He needs to go to Hange, needs to look into her eyes and hold her in his arms. Needs to tell her everything he kept unspoken.

He takes the first step with the intent to do exactly that. Nothing is going to stop him, them, this time, but then— then he remembers.

I think she lost her memories

He remembers Pieck’s words. He remembers Hange’s last years too - the weary look in her eyes, the absence of that loud laughter and bright smile. Remembers how easy it was for her to sacrifice her own life.

Maybe, Hange truly forgot about everything. It’s a blessing then and should be treated as such.

He doesn’t take another step forward. Instead, he turns around and leaves.

It’s better this way, he thinks.

The distance between him and Hange grows bigger and bigger. His heart grows heavier with every step.

***

In the end, despite his best efforts, he just can’t stay away. He knows he should, knows he has to let Hange go, but he can’t.

He’s just an old, broken man, who is too weak to resist.

He never shows his face, afraid that it could trigger Hange’s memories, afraid of what it would do to her, but he visits her cabin frequently.

Hange is isolated from the others, but there are things that she needs. He’s just helping her, Levi persuades himself, as he leaves small packages at Hange’s doorstep again and again.

And if sometimes, he stands in the distance, watching her - on the isolated coastline, no one is a witness to it.

***

Hange gets curious about him, of course. Levi isn’t surprised, she is the definition of that word, after all. She tries to catch him, runs out of the house every time he visits. Luckily, even old and beaten, Levi remains faster than her.

It is tempting, though. It is so tempting to just let Hange see him, to slow his step, to turn around and face her.

But then Levi remembers a quiet, broken whisper.

So just let me go, will you?

And he hurries to walk away, to leave Hange behind, persuading himself that it’s better this way.

***

One morning, he visits Hange at the very break of dawn. The sun is barely up in the sky, the world painted in a gentle pink light. The air is chilly and the cold wind ruffles his hair. The spring has just began, and so Levi wraps the coat tighter, shielding himself from the cold.

He approaches the cabin, his eyes trained at the sea. At the mornings like this, it looks particularly splendid.

Levi tears his gaze away from the mesmerizing view and turns to the cabin. He freezes, as he sees Hange sitting on a porch. He panics and means to flee that instant, but then he looks closer - Hange doesn’t react to him at all.

She’s asleep, he realizes with immense relief.

He realizes another thing then – it’s the first time he’s so close to Hange.

Slowly, he takes another step. She looks a bit ridiculous, with blanket wrapped all over her and only head sticking out, but she’s just like the sea, the sight of her so splendid, it’s hard for Levi to look away.

He climbs up to a porch and softly puts the package down. The sharp, familiar aroma fills his nostrils and the permanent scowl on his face softens, as he notices two cups of tea, standing on the table.

He takes one in his hands, inhales the scent deeper and takes the first sip. The tea is bitter and strong – just as he likes it.

“Thank you,” he whispers, as he puts the empty cup down.

Hange can wake up at any moment, he knows that. He should leave soon, he knows that too. But he stays behind, just for a couple of minutes. He watches Hange snore quietly, marvels at the way her chest moves up and down, at the small puffs of air that escape her mouth. The sight is warming him more than the hot tea. He leans in then, unable to resist. He leaves a soft kiss on forehead.

He gazes at her for another short moment, his chest filling with so much love and longing, it feels like it’s going to explode.

He doesn’t want to leave her, more than anything he just wants to stay with Hange. He wants to start a life with her, a life she promised to him, a life that became impossible when she decided that humanity is more important than their happiness.

But Hange is still alive, she can still find some happiness. In the meantime, he’ll be keeping watch over her.

It’s better this way, he remembers and forces himself to walk away.

***

Hange gets more vigilant after that, and Levi’s annoyance grows stronger. Is that so hard to simply accept his kindness? Why must she always stick her long nose where it doesn’t belong?

It takes him four days of almost constantly watching the damn cabin to catch the time where Hange isn’t waiting on a porch for him. He traveled to another town to get her those damn journals, and that’s how she repays him?

What an insufferable, irritating douche.

What a pair they make.

***

Same as the amount of steps that led to the lab and the amount of turns he took to get to the Commander’s office, the trail to the cabin becomes so familiar that Levi can get to it with his eye closed. He knows every tree that stands along the way, every stone and bump on the road.

And as he walks it one day, Levi notices a new, strange smell. He follows it and finds a plate with pie on it and a cup of tea. A note lies next to it all, and Levi snatches it in his hands.

Since you don't let me thank you any other way, it reads. Levi rolls his eyes. Someone is a little passive aggressive, he muses, taking a bite of the pie.

It’s a little too sweet for his taste, but not awful. He likes it actually. Of course, there is no way in hell he’ll tell Hange about it. Teasing her became a second nature, and so, as he grabs a second piece of pie, he takes out a quill and sits down to write a reply.

A smirk pulls at his lips as he finishes his note. It’s a little rude, he knows, but it’s meant for Hange, the only person who was always able to see through the stern façade. He wonders if she still possesses this ability, or it was lost among with her memories. He hopes it was not.

He puts the note down, takes another piece of pie and leaves.

Work on your cooking skills, four-eyes. The pie was awful. Try adding less sugar next time. I think just a piece of this shitty pie could give someone cavities. Tea was good, though.

***

With the taste of pie still lingering in his mouth, Levi returns to a room he’s renting at a small motel not far from the ruined port.

Someone is standing next to his room, obviously waiting for him. Levi curses softly, recognizing Jean’s long face.

“Captain!” he raises his hand in greeting. “I was waiting for you.”

Dressed in a long coat, three-piece suit and with black hat on his head, Jean is the epitome of a charming young man.

“The kids have surely grown,” the voice in his head murmurs. It sounds suspiciously like Hange.

Jean looks at him, staring Levi in the eye, unflinching. A man in front of him is a far cry from the unruly teenager Levi was so used to.

He’s not much of a brat anymore, he thinks with a mixture of annoyance and pride. Jean grew into a good, noble man.

The beard is still ridiculous in Levi’s opinion.

“Come in,” he sighs, unlocking the door to his room and letting Jean go in first. “What brings you here?”

How were you able to find me, he wants to ask, but he can guess the answer himself. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one Pieck was watching over. Levi wonders how much she told to Jean and the others.

“I came here because of you,” Jean says, taking off his hat.

“Me?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “What do you need me for? Is there some trouble on the island?”

“No,” Jean shakes his head. “But… we’re worried about you. What are you still doing here, Captain? Why don’t you go home?”

Because it’s not my home anymore, Levi wants to say. The home is where the heart is, or so his mother used to say. His heart is living in the abandoned cabin on the coastline. And he won’t leave her this time.

He can’t say all of it to Jean, though. Obviously, he doesn’t know about Hange, he wouldn’t be asking the obvious question otherwise. And Levi can’t tell about her survival to the kids. He wants, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to compromise the safety of that secret. He doesn’t want to sabotage Hange’s chance at finding peace and happiness. Not again.

“It’s not any of your business, Kirstein,” he retorts, his voice harsher than Jean deserves.

Jean sighs, fiddling with his hat. “I saw you coming back from the beach this morning. Are you… still visiting that place?”

The way Jean looks at him – sad and weary – tugs at Levi’s heart. He can’t hold this gaze, and so he turns away, squeezing his hands into fists. He knows how he must look to the others, knows that they probably think that he’s an old, broken man who is going mad with grief.

He’s not mad, though. He is not. Pieck had seen her too.

“Thanks for the concern, Jean,” he says, and he means it. The kids’ worry and care warms his heart. “But I’m fine.”

“You won’t be going home with me then?”

“No,” Levi softly refuses. “I’ll stay here.”

Jean looks like he wants to argue, but Levi sends him a look, silencing him. Jean sighs again. Levi raises his hand to pat Jean on a shoulder, but then he realizes – Jean is too damn tall for him to do that. He tsks in annoyance, awkwardly lowering his hand.

“We’ve all grown so damn big, eh?” Jean teases with a small grin.

Levi scowls at him. Jean’s grin grows bigger.

“C’mon,” Levi says, leading Jean further into the room. “You didn’t just come here to persuade me to go back, right?”

“Well, actually…”

“So tall and still so stupid,” Levi remarks, making Jean chuckle. “Sit down, let me make you some tea. You can tell me how the others are you doing.”

“Thank you,” Jean nods, as Levi puts a cup with steaming tea in front of him. “The others are good, they’ve asked to pass on their best wishes to you. Connie wanted to visit you with me, but he broke his arm just a few days ago.”

“Broke his arm?” Levi asks, sipping his tea. “How did that happen?”

“Ah,” Jean chuckles. “The Marleyans showed us a new mean of transportation, called bicycle,” he frowns slightly, making sure to pronounce all the syllables correctly. “It’s like a horse, but a bit faster. Long story short, Connie tried to master that bicycle. He failed spectacularly, though.”

Levi hums, hiding a smile. “What about the others?”

“Armin is getting used to his new role bit by bit. Mikasa and Annie help him a lot. Historia’s baby is getting even more adorable, if you can believe it.”

Historia showed him her kid, while Levi was still on the island. She even let him carry him around, and Levi still remembers a knot in his stomach that appeared, when he took the kid from Historia’s hands. Jean is right, though, the baby is adorable. Just like his mother.

Jean continues talking after that, telling him a story of how Connie fell asleep during the government’s meeting and how Annie tried to bake a birthday cake for Armin, but Levi doesn’t listen to him anymore. Instead, he imagines a person, who would be sitting at his right. A person who would get worried after hearing about Connie’s broken arm and who would coo over Historia’s baby.

Hange would have loved to hear the news about kids. She would have loved to be a part of their lives.

As he absentmindedly listens to Jean, Levi has to remind himself of the truth that is bitterer than tea:

It’s better this way.

***

Jean returns to the island after spending a few days with Levi, and his life goes back to the already familiar routine. He visits Hange, brings a small gift or essentials, gets annoyed at the seemingly endless stream of questions she writes down in the small notes, curses her curiosity and answers her with sarcastic comments and crude jokes.

The life goes on, and Levi feels at peace.

***

He strolls through a town one day, passing by a flower stall. It’s amazing how quickly the world has recovered. Despite all these deaths, despite ruin and tragedy, people are trying to heal, desperate to get things back to the way they were. This kind of perseverance is admiring, Levi can’t help but think, as he watches an old woman selling a bouquet of daffodils to a shy-looking man.

Suddenly a splash of vivid purple color attracts his attention, and Levi subconsciously takes a step closer.

Hange told him once – when she was pissed drunk after a celebration of Mike’s birthday – that her favorite color is purple. Apparently, it reminded her of lavenders that grew on a field behind her childhood house.

“It always makes me think of warm, sunny days,” Hange said then, a big, happy grin on her face. “Those are my favorite kind. Just remembering them makes me feel so good.”

Before he can stop himself, Levi approaches an old woman and buys a pot of hyacinths. It’s not lavender from the fields behind her house, but hyacinths are very pretty too.

Hange always loved flowers, whenever they walked through town, she always stopped by a flower stall, admiring the bright, beautiful colors. As he takes a pot in his hands, Levi wonders if she would like those flowers too. Would they be enough to make her smile?

She isn't at home when he brings the flowers. It's the first time it happens, and Levi guesses that she probably went to explore what lies beyond her little cabin. Her absence does make him a tiny bit worried, but Levi isn't all that surprised by it. Hange is curiosity personified, after all, and he is glad that this side of hers has returned.

He leaves the flowers on the porch and walks away, wondering when Hange will come back.

***

He checks on her the next day, and finds that his flowers are now standing at the windowsill inside the cabin. There is also a note she left for him. He picks it up, his expression softening when he reads the beginning of the note.

His face changes, though, turning into a frown, when Levi sees a name Onyakopon written at the end. He crumbles the note in his fist and hurriedly leaves, his shoulders slumped.

He comes back to the motel and the sight of Onyakopon waiting for him in the foyer doesn’t surprise him at all.

"Captain!" the man quickly catches up with Levi, falling into step with him.

"I'm not Captain anymore," Levi grumbles, thrusting hands into the pockets of his pants. "I'm retired, if you didn't know."

Onyankopon nods, absentmindedly, and before he even opens his mouth, Levi knows what question he is going to ask him.

“Commander Hange? You knew that she’s alive?”

"None of your business," Levi quickens his step, and Onyakopon grabs the sleeve of his jacket, turning him around.

Levi wants to snap at him, to tell him to fuck off and leave him and Hange alone, but words die in his throat, as he sees the distress and concern etched on Onyakopon's face.

"I don't know why are you keeping all of this away from her, sir, but... She's suffering. She's hurting and she doesn't even know why."

"Did you tell her anything?" Levi asks, turning his face to the side, uncomfortable with the weight of Onyakopon's gaze.

"No," he shakes head, his voice defeated. "I didn't."

"Good," Levi nods. "It's better this way, believe me," he adds and walks away, leaving Onyakopon behind.

***

Despite his best attempts to ignore them, Onyakopon's words strike a cord inside him. They make Levi think, they make him question if—

She's suffering. She's hurting and she doesn't even know why.

If his course of action really is the best one.

It all crashes down on him when he finds a letter from Hange. In it, she asks him to reveal the truth. She begs him to tell her about her old life. He reads the letter again and again, doubt and uncertainty clouding his mind.

Does he have any right? Does he have any right to decide what's best for Hange? Shouldn't it be her own decision?

Maybe, Levi thinks, but then he remembers - a quiet, defeated voice, the dull, lifeless look and he thinks no, Hange deserves a second chance, she deserves a chance to live, to lead a life without pain and regrets.

Forgive me, he writes in response to her letter. But it's better this way.

***

Hange doesn't write another note or letter for him after that. It looks like she's ready to let go of her old life. It's a good thing, Levi knows that. But a part of him is disappointed. A part of him hasn't let go of Hange yet. A part of him hasn't stopped wanting to get her back at his side, right where she belongs.

A part of him regrets leaving that forest.

***

He still visits her, of course. Hange doesn't speak - or, well, write to him - but he continues to help her in what little ways he can.

He finds her journal during one of his visits. He shouldn't pry, he knows, but he takes it in his hands, opening it at a random page. A rough sketch of a bird - seagull, his mind supplies after a moment - is staring at him. The drawing is surrounded by short notes that detail various observations.

Levi flips over a page and sees another drawing - this one of a hyacinth's flower, leaf and root. Underneath Hange wrote more comments and remarks about the flower's characteristics - how it responds to sun deprivation and how many days it can survive without water before it starts wilting.

Levi smiles as he traces Hange's scribbles with his fingertips. Her passion and curiosity has returned, or so it seems. It warms his heart, makes him remember the good old days, when Hange was allowed to be Hange, when she was just a weird, eccentric scientist with an insatiable hunger for knowledge.

It brings back a particular memory, before the world has gone completely to shit, before it wasn't just them against the world, when the others - Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit - were still alive. When everything was so much easier.

He tears out a page out of the journal and writes down a short message.

Are your hobbies so boring that watching the birds is somehow fun for you?

***

Last time he said that, he didn't receive an answer, not really. This time, he does.

***

They start talking again, and their conversations – however short they are – never fail in brightening his day. Every word, every doodle Hange makes for him bring a smile to his face. They make him feel like Hange always made him feel during all those years they knew each other.

They make him feel alive.

Of course, Hange is still annoyingly noisy, she still asks him tons of questions, but this time Levi doesn’t ignore them. He doubts that his favorite color or a fact that he prefers to sleep on his left side would trigger some kind of painful memories.

So he continues talking to Hange, and Hange— Hange continues making him happy.

***

He doesn't believe in fate, destiny, providence or some other shit. He never did. He used to scoff at the madmen and drunkards from Underground who cursed God and fate for their misfortunes and he rolled his eyes every time he heard the cultists preaching about tragedies and sorrows that were destined to befall on people who dared to doubt their teachings.

But he does not know how else to call it, how else to explain the universe's apparent disinclination to keep Hange and him apart.

Is it fate, a miracle, or a mere coincidence? Levi isn’t a poet or philosopher, he’s a retired soldier. He doesn’t understand what force constantly brings them together.

But he’s thankful for it.

***

He is descending from the cabin's porch. Hange is bird watching and he knows from experience that it could take hours, if not more. That's why he allows his steps to be slower and more careful than usual. His wounds have healed but they don't let him forget, inconveniencing him at the most unfortunate of times.

He watches his step, grunting softly as he lowers one leg and then the other. It is only when he gets from under the roof, Levi notices that it's raining. The first droplet falls down on his head and he looks up.

And the time stops, because Hange is standing just a few steps away and she stares right at him and the look in her eyes, the one that was always reserved only for him, it tells Levi - she remembers.

"Levi," she calls him, again and again, and Levi realizes - no one had called him by his name for a long, long time. Ever since that fateful day when he thought that he had lost his heart forever.

But his heart is still with him, his heart is still alive. His heart is standing right in front of him and calls out his name.

His hands tremble with the desire to touch her, to feel her, and he clenches them into fists, stopping himself.

He has to make sure first. He has to be certain, so, taking a deep breath, he asks.

"So your memories returned?”

"They did," Hange answers, and, oh god, the sound of her voice. He missed it so much.

"And you..." his knees feel weak, and he shifts his weight from one foot to another. "And you aren't freaked by this?"

Aren't you angry with me, he wants to ask. What do you feel, he needs to know. He doesn't ask any of it, though.

He's afraid to hear the answer.

"I'm still processing," a tentative smile curls at her lips, as if answering Levi's unasked question. "Would you like to… help me with it?”

Would he like to? There is nothing more he ever wished for.

“I know I’ve talked about living in the forest," Hange adds. "but… will the coastline be good enough for you?”

The forest, coastline, city, what difference does it hold?

Home is where the heart is. And he's tired of contradicting that statement.

“You’re more than enough," he replies.

They start walking at the same time, as always perfectly in sync. And as they hold each other tightly, ignoring the rain, forgetting the pain, Levi thinks—

We are together - and it's so much better this way.

#it's basically the same thing but from levi's pov this time!#hope you guys enjoy #levihan #levihan fanfiction

132 notes · View notes

exosmutfactory · 3 years

Text

Six Phases 006 Pt 6

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: I couldn't find a picture to match Baekhyun's appearance—so I chose one that fits his mood instead 2.0 😅 ♡

[ contains: angst ] Two’s a couple, Three’s a crowd 💔

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

My heels click rhythmically on the sidewalk, in perfect sync with the song I’m humming. I’ve taken a liking to listening to new music lately instead of sticking to the same old artists that I’ve heard a thousand times. Trying to expand my horizons and replace sob-inducing ballads with uplifting trap beats.

It’s going okay so far: moving on. Learning how to navigate the world while riding solo. It’s not like I haven’t done it before—sleepless nights aren’t new. Lack of appetite isn’t either. A breakup will never be the end of the world, no matter how excruciating it is. So why should I let it hold me back and define me?

Birds chirp merrily in the trees, bringing a smile to my face, especially when I catch sight of a little hummingbird enjoying nectar from a patch of flowers. If there’s one thing I can say that has helped me during this time, it’s nature. Simply looking out at the world from my apartment window and taking long walks around the more remote parts of this city have calmed my soul more than I can express with words.

I’m watching the squirrels scurry around on the other side of the street while waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I sigh, so much for a moment of tranquility.

I pull my phone out of my tiny jean pocket, furrowing my brows at the caller ID. Jongin…? That’s strange, has he ever called me before? I rack my brain for answers. Nope, this is the first time he is calling me. Flashbacks of our distant friendship since that one summer fight I had with a certain someone flashes through my mind... I press my phone to my ear before I can overthink it any longer. "Hello?"

"Riley." Jongin’s smooth voice filters over the line.

"Hi," I mumble, continuing down the street, noticing a beautiful blue and green butterfly flying by with a smile. The pitter patter of a water fountain in the distance has me falling back into my 'Zen’ mode. "What’s up? How are you?"

"I need a favor." He drops; straight to the point. Sending me right into a panic.

My phone nearly falls to the ground. "...You didn’t break a leg or something-"

"No, no," He immediately responds, recognizing the high pitch of hysteria in my voice. "It’s nothing bad."

Thank fuck, the last thing I need right now is bad news. It may be the end of March, but I’m not really feeling this 'Spring’ season. My mood shifts faster than the strong wind. The only stress I try to have nowadays are always work related because if I stop and think about my personal life for a moment I am fucked.

I take a deep breath, leaning my back against a light pole before replying to him. "Okay."

"There’s a dance competition in June," He slowly explains, "and I need a partner."

"Oh..." I blink a few times, straightening back up. "Huh… I’m sorry, I’m not really good at choosing candidates. I’m not a professional-"

"I mean you." He interjects, background music drifting over the line. "I want you to be my partner."

I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment, looking at it in disbelief, "I'm sorry—What?"

"I have a routine already," His voice takes on a warmer tone, pure persuasion dripping from his honeyed words. "With your name all over it."

"...Eh??" I look off to the side, trying in vain to find something—anything to distract me from the tingles zapping down my spine at the sound of his voice. God… what the fuck? "Don’t you have like a million other people who specialize in-"

"I made the choreography for you."

My heart hammers in my chest. "And why the heck would you do that?" I demand, tightening my grip on the phone. Something out of the corner of my eye suddenly captures my attention, dragging my eyes over to it instantly. The sight that greets me has my throat going dry, gulping as my hands shake.

It’s Baekhyun—and he isn’t alone.

He’s accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman, the same height as him in her flat sandals. Her black hair reaches the middle of her back, contrasting against her light blue overalls and swaying softly in the cool wind. They lean against a brick wall next to a cute coffee shop with matching coffee cups in their hands.

Jongin’s words fade into background noise while I watch them. My vision blurs when she laughs, resting her hand on his arm. The way she easily initiates physical contact with him speaks volumes; this isn’t their first meeting. It’s been 2 months since January, and yet...

My heart constricts painfully in my chest, I suck in a deep breath. Lightheadedness hits me full force, I quickly cling onto the pole when my body sways off balance. Shit… I must have been holding my breath.

"Riley?" Jongin’s muffled voice drifts from my distant phone. Thankfully it fell onto the parking meteor next to me and not on the ground. "Riley!"

Burning a hole into the back of Baekhyun’s silver-haired head, I bring the phone back to my ear. "I’ll do it," I mumble lowly.

"I’m sorry?"

Staring at Baekhyun and his new friend, I make my decision. "I’ll be your partner."

•••

Okay… Maybe I was too hasty in agreeing to this whole dance competition thing. I should have waited to make a decision when I was in a better state of mind.

It’s been a good four weeks since I agreed to be Jongin’s partner—four weeks of pure hell.

If I had known what kind of dance moves were incorporated in this routine I never ever would have agreed. The choreography appears simple and subtle enough on the surface, especially thanks to Jongin’s gifted skills, but that’s the problem. It’s not simple; it’s a fucking ankle breaker. It’s pure well-organized insanity and I don’t know how much more of it that I can take.

"From the top," Jongin’s voice echoes in the dance studio. He presses a remote to start the song over again. I try to stay focused, ignoring the looming figures of the other hostile dancers in the room. Why they all gathered here to watch us practice today, I have no idea, but it isn’t helping me at all.

The bass booming from the stereo speakers vibrates the wood under my feet. Sweat permeates the air. Their predator-like stares break me down from the inside out. The memory of Baekhyun with that woman pops into my mind...

"5, 6, 7-"

Shit!

Gasps echo around the room when it happens: I collapse onto the floor, clutching onto my throbbing ankle.

"Riley?!" Something about the alarm in Jongin’s voice makes me wince, curling in on myself as everyone’s whispers float into the air.

"Oh my god, is she serious...?"

"See what I mean! She has two left feet. Why is he wasting his time on her?"

"Dumbass can’t even do a single number, let alone a simple choreography. The way he chose that over me…"

I try my best to reel in my emotions, to keep the hurt from being seen on my face, but there’s only so much I can bear—there’s only so much I can take.

Tears pelt down my face while their loud gasps and delighted giggles fill the air. I make a move to climb to my feet, ready to bolt out of here and never step foot in this place again when a gentle hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Riley." It’s Jongin, crouching down to meet my eye. "Are you okay?"

I can only shake my head, losing my breath as their taunting voices swirl around my head like a whirlpool, consuming me whole.

"Riley, stay with me." Jongin rests both his hands on my shoulders, directing my eyes to his whenever I look away. "Talk to me. What’s wrong?"

"I-I," I choke, covering my face in my hands before I sob pathetically on the hardwood floor. The throbbing of my backside and ankle only makes it worse.

"Ri-"

"Look at her! Pathetic at it’s finest."

Jongin stiffens, I don’t even need to see him to know that he’s gone rigid. His hand slips off my shoulder as I watch his silhouette rise from the spaces between my fingers, standing to his full height.

"Mind sharing with the class what you just said, Kim Nora?" He looks at the woman in the middle of the 5 dancers leaning against the far wall, his jaw clenching.

"I-"

"If you have something to say, say it."

"I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years. Years, Jongin!" She snaps, her shrill voice bouncing off of the walls. "I’m on time for every rehearsal. I practice until I bleed. Why does this no-name slut get to come in here and take it from me when she can’t even stand on her own two feet?!"

"Kim Nora." The way he says her name has everyone on edge. My back prickles in fear and secondhand embarrassment. He’s not even directing that stone cold tone at me and I’m hella uncomfortable sitting here.

"Who’s dance studio is this, Nora?"

"Yours-" She looks away, not brave enough to meet his eyes anymore. "-M-Mr. Kim..."

Jongin hums, holding his hands behind his back while pacing up and down the floor. "Who’s name is on the sign out front, everyone?"

"Yours, Mr. Kim." They chime in sync with meek voices. A look of regret painted on every single one of their faces.

"Mine." He concludes, satisfied before turning his dark eyes back onto Nora. "Let me explain something to you, Nora."

Her eyes stay focused on the floor.

"This is my practice, my building." He stops pacing, stretching his arms out to showcase the room. "You are under my roof." He looks dead at her, eyes colder than ice. "You are here because I let you. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes, sir, but I-"

"Next time," He cuts her off, "You decide to be immature. Next time, you decide that your knowledge is anything close to my expertise." He steps closer, and I’ve never seen a person standing 3 feet away have such an impact on an individual. "Next time, you decide to mock one of my friends." He lowers his voice, and I can feel the heavy promise coming off him in waves. "You are gone. Do you understand me?"

Nora babbles something unintelligible, tears brimming her eyeliner caked eyes.

"Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes!" She sucks in a breath, snot clogging her nose as she directs her eyes back to the floor. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He steps away, turning on his heel before rushing back over to me. "Riley," His voice is softer now, much like the Jongin who helped rescue me from my birthday party 2 years ago.

"Hey..." I hush, lowering my hands to my lap.

"Are you okay?" He hands me a clean towel, his brows furrowed in worry. "How’s your ankle?"

"I-It’s fine."

He raises a brow, reaching out a hand to me. "May I?"

"Yeah." I sigh, noticing the familiar look of concern on his face.

Jongin takes my ankle into his hands, handling it carefully and pressing a few places. "Does it hurt?" His frown deepens when I wince. "And here?"

"Yeah," I nod, my face pinched up in pain.

"From 1 to 10," He continues, looking me dead in the eyes, "How much pain are you in?"

My lips part to answer, but I pause, biting the bullet and wiggling my ankle around to see how bad it actually is. "F-four out of ten." I grit out, still so sensitive that tears sting my eyes again.

"It’s sprained." He concludes, gently lowering it back to the floor.

"W-what does that mean?" I ask fearfully. Whatever it means, it doesn’t sound good with the contest 6 weeks away. Shit, why am I such a fuck up? What if I can’t perform let alone learn the choreography in time? I’m such a failure, I-

"It’s not bad," He reassures, resting a comforting hand on my arm. "A few days off of it and you should be good as new."

"R-really?"

Jongin nods, smiling softly. "Nothing a few days off can’t fix."

"Oh, thank you," I whisper in relief, wrapping my arms around his neck to mask the tears that escape my eyes. "Thank you, thank you."

"No," Jongin shakes his head, hugging me warmly, whispering just as quietly in my ear. "Thank you."

•••

After that day, none of the dancers have bothered me, let alone showed up to any more dance practices. Jongin made sure of that. No one fucked around with him either after the way he resolved the issue. An angry Jongin is a scary Jongin; that much I know now.

Sighing softly, I look up at the fluffy clouds overhead, trying to salvage the calm that washes over me in wake of April’s flourishing weather. The flowers are more alive than ever. Small animals and other critters run around for food on the ground. The world around me is the picture-perfect example of nature at its finest—so why is there an uneasy feeling weighing on my chest?

Work is going well and the book we had spent months and months preparing was released last week. I’m on my way to the nearest bookstore to grab a copy for myself. To check that no grammar related errors got past my keen eyes or because I genuinely enjoy the novel, who knows. I want to see the final product for myself and check out other releases. It’s about time I pick up another book besides the one I stayed up countless nights making sure everything was finalized.

A cute bell chimes when I step through the door, hit with the aroma of fresh coffee. Every time I go to a bookstore or library, it’s like I am stepping into another world. The shelves filled to the brim with hundreds, maybe thousands of literature, all at the touch of your fingertips.

From ebooks to the dusty classics, I love them all. I may not read everything; I might be one of the pickiest readers out there, but I appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every completed book. Good or bad, the author has big balls for trying and putting their name out there. I have mad respect for that.

Venturing further into the shop, my eyes catch the Fantasy section with ease. I make my way over, already seeing a colorful display set out for the newest releases. The sight of the book I’m looking for brings a smile to my face. It feels different to see it in a store instead of reading the rough drafts in the comfort of my bed. Damn the graphic designers put their foot in the cover; it captures the personalities of the main characters perfectly. I couldn’t be more proud.

My smile widens the closer I get to the display, realizing that there is only one copy left of the book. Deserved; everyone from the author to the marketing team have done their best to make this book a big seller. Thankfully the universe left one just for me.

Just as my fingertips touch the edge of the paperback cover, someone else’s hand brushes against mine.

"Oh! Sorry-"

"Ah, I’m so sor-"

My heart plummets and my head snaps up to look at them at once. Puppy brown eyes that I could identify out of countless others and a million stars stare wide-eyed right back into mine.

Fuck.

"Riley?" He breathes, his handsome face painted in disbelief.

I can only wheeze, my chest throbbing as if my heart will explode.

Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck—

Before he can say another word, before I can crumble in front of his questioning orbs, I turn on my heel and sprint out of there like a bat out of hell.

I’ve been doing better, I’m slowly healing from it all, but the moment I see his face—his sweet, tired, kicked-puppy face, I fold quicker than an umbrella in an incoming hurricane. It hurts worse than the force of an 18-wheeler. My whole world full of its fragile edges and duct tape unravels under the weight.

Normally, I wouldn’t do this.

…

Okay scratch that—I used to do this. All the damn time, but with the way our lives have changed and that one conversation we had back in March 2 years ago I… I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk to him. I’ve made it my mission to avoid Sehun.

I know what he will say the minute I tell him what’s up: I told you so—the bane of my existence. That one phrase alone is enough to keep me from confessing so many things. I rather suffer in silence than hear that sentence, but… This is different.

No matter how much it pains me and paints me in shame, I need to tell my best friend what's been going on. After everything he has done for me since our childhood... I owe him that much. So here I am now.

I chew on my bottom lip and knock firmly on his apartment door, waiting for someone to answer with bated breath.

It opens a few minutes later, revealing his unmistakable tall form as he dries his hair. Sehun does a double take. "Shorty?" He breathes in disbelief, pausing in ruffling his messy black locks.

I laugh a little, warmth sparking in my aching heart from the nickname. "Yeah," I breathe, managing a wobbly smile, already feeling tears prickle my eyes. "That's me."

We stare at each other for a long moment, nothing but the distant swish of driving cars and the muffled conversations happening beyond the open balcony on his floor fills the silence. Ah… My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s probably busy enough as it is-

As if reading my mind, Sehun’s gaze softens. He throws the towel around his neck before opening his arms. "Come here."

I bury myself in his chest without hesitation, soaking the fabric of his black t-shirt with my tears. "I’m sorry," I croak, holding back sobs.

"Hey, hey," a low, soothing voice chimes in, resting a hand on my arm. "What happened?"

"I don’t know," Sehun mumbles, rubbing my back as I shake in his arms. "But whoever did it will be missing an arm."

"N-No need, Hun," I sniffle with a shaky sigh, pulling away from his embrace. A chill covers my skin with goosebumps the moment I step away. It’s been like this all week; feeling hot to the touch, yet shaking like a leaf at the same time. I have no idea what is going on, and at this point… I don’t want to know. I can say that for a lot of things.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I turn around, smiling apologetically at the brown-haired man standing in the doorway. "I’m sorry for popping up out of the blue, Lu."

"Nonsense," Luhan shakes his head, his curly hair partially covering his worry-filled eyes. He takes my hand between his, "Come in, I’ll make us some tea."

"Okay," I whisper, shuffling into their apartment. I take the tissue box he offers me, following him into the spacious living room. He goes into the kitchen while I sit down on their couch, my breath hitching from the emotions budding in my chest.

Sehun closes the door, noisily walking on the wooden floor in his flip flops. He sits down next to me, questioning me with his unwavering stare, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eye. I… I don’t know where to begin; I can’t even find the words. The squeal of the teapot in the other room fills the tense silence between us.

"Alright," He sighs, propping his foot up on the coffee table and resting his arm on his knee before giving me a hard look. "What did Byun do?"

I choke, snapping my eyes to his, "How do you know?"

"You never visit," He points out in the driest of tones. "And when you do, you always call first."

I can only lower my head, pulling my knees to my chest.

"You don’t usually cry after seeing my face either. I mean," He continues, nudging me with his elbow. "Am I ugly or something?"

I snort. "Shut up." Shaking my head, I sigh deeply. "I just… A lot has happened." Risking a peek at him, my shoulders relax at the worried furrow of his brows and the care in his sharp brown eyes.

He nods, smiling the softest that I’ve seen in a long time. "I got time."

I smile a little, my chest bursting in gratefulness for having a friend like him in my life. No matter what happens or what I get into, I can always count on Sehun to be there.

…

If only I didn’t have so much baggage to bring to his door.

"I…" Come on; I ball my hands into the fabric of my shirt. Say it.

Sehun keeps his eyes on me and I struggle more to get the words out, my chest starting to heave. Should I be here? Should I be doing this? What will he say? What if this just makes everything worse—

No.

Sehun is my best friend. We have shared so many memories together, the good and the bad. I was the first person he came out to. He was there when my father walked out of my life. I cheered him on as he climbed the ranks of his weight training team. He helped me catch fireflies in my backyard when all I could rely on was my poor eyesight.

It’s always been him and I against this cruel world. One man—one boy, won’t change that overnight.

"I broke up with Baekhyun."

"What?!" Sehun leaps off of the couch. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah..." I drag out, looking him up and down in confusion. Panic hits me in the gut. "W-Why? What’s wrong-"

"Dude!" He exclaims, tangling his hands in his hair, the most comically distressed expression on his normally 'bitch’ face. "I thought he broke up with you."

The thought of what would have happened if Baekhyun had been the one to dump me makes my heart hurt so much I feel the color drain from my face.

"H-Hey," Sehun immediately takes notice, waving his hands around. "Not on the couch, anywhere but the couch-"

Luhan suddenly appears behind him with a tray of drinks, lovingly smacking the back of his head. "Here," He soothes, ignoring Sehun’s pelulant whines while setting down the tray on the coffee table and offering a mug to me.

"Thank you, Lu." I breathe, smiling when the scent of lemon and ginger hits my nose.

Luhan takes the seat on the other side of me, resting a comforting hand on my knee. "We’re here." He nods, sharing a look with Sehun before focusing back on me with the gentlest of eyes. "Whenever you are ready."

Gulping, I curl my fingers around my mug, the warmth of the tea and their soft eyes giving me the strength to open up.

I am finally able to put everything into words… I just hope we all make it out unscathed.

Closing my eyes, I start from the very beginning, updating them on what has happened since the year we started dating. The summer fight I never told Sehun about, Baekhyun’s ex Haneul following me around. The French lady at the photoshoot, the model behind the scenes. Our fight that reached the public. What went down at the Byun’s house… And finally… how I ran, and never looked back.

Sehun’s facial expressions shift from one extreme to the next throughout my confession. At one point I have to look away from him, stuttering the more I see the disappointment in his eyes. By the end of it, I’m mumbling to the lukewarm mug between my palms rather than them.

My words trail off into silence, nothing but the ticking of Luhan’s treasured grandfather clock making a sound. I’ve grown to hate this the most: the empty space that leaves room for my thoughts to sneak up on me again.

"You were hiding all of this..." Sehun speaks up, betrayal joining the disappointment in his eyes. "All this time."

A lump forms in my throat, "I-"

"You kept this to yourself for years." He grits out, his voice growing sadder by the minute. "Years, Riley."

"I’m sorry," I sob, curling up into a ball, choking on my tears. "I’m s-so sorry."

"Why?" He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I-I didn’t wanna bother you," I babble, gasping so much for air I choke even more. "You’re busy with work and your own love life, who am I to bother you with my problems?" Tears blur my vision and stain my glasses, rolling uncomfortably down the bridge of my nose. "Isn’t that what growing up is about?" I whisper, staring lifelessly down at my untouched tea. "Learning how to depend on yourself?"

"Riley, I don’t care if you’re fucking 80." Sehun barks, scaring me until he opens his arms, forgiveness swirling in his softened brown eyes. "You can come to me for anything."

"O-Okay," I mumble, hiding in his chest.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I don’t care if you shave your relaxed hair, adopt a cat, or the world is on fire." He proclaims sternly. "No matter what, you can always come to me."

The comforting smell of fresh laundry on his clothes has my shoulders relaxing, my sobs quieting down to small hiccups. "Okay."

"Good. Now take these sweaters back."

His words take a few moments to register in my sluggish mind. "Huh?" I blink, lifting my head off of him, sitting up fully and immediately recognizing the bundle of clothes in Luhan’s hands. "No," I shake my head, ignoring how dizzy I suddenly feel. "Sehun, those are yours-"

"And I want you to have them."

"I-" My heart constricts in conflict, "But-"

"But nothing. You act like I don’t know that your ass gets cold." He mutters grumpily, crossing his arms. "Keep them, alright?" Being the observant guy that he is, he picks up on my weary glance at Luhan. "Lu chipped in some of his too."

"Mine are comfier," His boyfriend jokes, smiling cheekily.

"Yah."

"You know it’s the truth."

"Only because you—yah! Why are you crying now?!"

"I just…" I sniffle, laughing softly. "I love you guys."

Luhan’s smile brightens while I whine over Sehun messing up my hair. "We love you more."

•••

May passes by in the blink of an eye, mature plants welcoming the upcoming summer heat. I love and hate this for two reasons. One, it’s a certain someone-who-shall-not-be-named birth month. Two, the dance competition is two weeks away. Two weeks. It is literally May 20th and I am sweating my hair out over it.

Why did I agree to this forsaken competition again? Oh right—I decided that a two-step routine is the equivalent of a love triangle. Nice going, Riley.

I sigh, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm. Two weeks until the competition means that my schedule is more packed. Yeah Park’s Publishing may be on an "easy going" break from publishing books right now, but I’m not getting a breather.

Nope, the moment I jokingly told Jongin how I didn’t know what to do with all my free time, he brought up daily dance practice—no, he down right demanded it. And when I started to complain:

"What? It’s not like you have anything else better to do."

I’ve been seething over that for a week.

Huffing at the memory, I plop my bag not-so-subtly on a chair before looking at Jongin on the other side of the room.

"Glaring at me won’t help you perfect the choreo faster-"

"Suck my dick."

"Oh, baby," He grins, raising a brow. "I would if I could." He saunters his way over to me, his beautiful bronze skin already glowing in a thin sheen of sweat when he leans down to face me, "but I don’t mind either way."

I push him away with a hard roll of my eyes, "Let’s get this over with."

"Feisty," He humors. "Someone is feeling better today."

"Better enough to kick your ass," I mutter, tying up my hair in a messy bun.

"Let’s rehearse the second verse," He takes a swing of his water bottle, a serious expression on his features. "Then we’ll talk."

"Bring it on," I lift my chin, playing tough despite the nervousness washing over me.

He nods, grabbing the stereo remote and getting into position. "Show me what you got."

We go over the steps one last time before we begin. The first half of the choreo goes smoothly… and then I stumble the moment the second chorus hits.

"Let’s take a break."

"No," I shake my head, resting my hands on my knees.

"Riley."

"One more time." I pant, trying to catch my breath. "I swear I got it, just-"

"We’ve been at it for 30 minutes."

"But-"

"Break. Now."

I flop to the floor in a tired heap, groaning loudly to annoy him. I’m grateful he called for a break though, my flat feet are crying for mercy like no one’s business. Maybe I should—"Ah," I sigh in relief.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my shoes," I mumble, throwing him a look over my shoulder, not liking his attitude. "My feet are dying over here."

Jongin raises a brow, leaning against the mirror on the other side of the room. "Your parents didn’t see a pediatrician about that?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Born and raised in America," I chirp. "The land of the free, Mother fucka."

Both his brows shoot up. "Are you feverous?"

"No," I mumble, fiddling with a loose string on my shirt. "It’s really hot out."

"Have you been sleeping?" His eyes narrow at my lack of response. "Riley?"

"Oh would you look at that, the ceiling tiles have a noticeable gap between them-"

"Sit down."

"I’m fine." I sigh, reluctantly dragging myself over to the only chair in the room.

"You won’t be if you keep this up." He points out, more than a little peeved. "Have you been drinking enough?"

"I-"

He thrusts his water bottle in front of me. "Drink this."

"But you drank from it!"

"I’ll give you mouth to mouth too if you don’t sit your ass down."

I blink, giving him a long, wide-eyed stare. "Why so serious?" The fed up expression on his face is enough of an answer. "Okay—okay! Fine." Inspecting the bottle for anything floating around on the bottom, I tilt my head back to pour some water in my mouth, mumbling with stuffed cheeks, "There, happy?"

Jongin just sighs, turning on a rotating fan. "Stay here. I don’t want you moving until you finish that bottle."

"Sir yes sir," I mutter, giving a little salute. Grinning when he glares sternly at me. He sighs before going back to the other side of the room.

Watching him practice his solo parts in the mirror, I leisurely sip from the bottle, noticing how his shirt sticks to his fit body. Jongin is tall, a bit broad, and lean. He has a dancer’s body and muscle in all the right places—I can’t imagine his diet. I shiver at the thought of it, checking my forehead. I’m not picky about fitness; I’m a bit on the curvy side myself. I rather have something to sink my fingers into. Speaking of which...

"Hey, Jongin?" I call him tentatively, continuing when he hums. "Why… Why did you make a choreo with me in mind?"

He doesn’t respond for a minute, and I wonder if he will until he goes over to retrieve something from his bag. "I always wanted to dance with you," He admits, throwing a towel around his neck. "To know what it was like to view your beauty up close." He bends his knee, bracing his foot against the wall as my eyes widen. "The way you move, twirl around, and glide across the floor. The blissed out expression on your face… You are at home on the dancefloor, and it shows." He looks up at me then. "You shine brighter than a million stars."

I forget how to breathe for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"I’ve never been envious of Baekhyun but..." His sultry eyes meet mine again. "When it comes to you, it’s hard to fight my jealousy."

My lips part a few times, endless questions dying on the tip of my tongue. Realizing I’m gaping like a fish out of water, I settle for looking down with a hot blush.

Jongin chuckles, tossing his towel onto his bag. "Come on," He pushes off of the wall, walking over to me and taking me by the hand. "Let’s finish up for today."

"I can stand up on my own, you know?" I grumble. "...Thank you."

He just smiles before we take our positions in the middle of the room.

We take it from the top again, soaring through the routine without a hiccup. I put all my energy into not missing a step, dancing beside and around him with ease—

"Stop."

"What?" I blink, turning around to him. "What’s wrong now?"

"That."

"What?" I repeat, my eyes narrowing.

"That." He emphasises, gesturing to me. "You’re too tense. You need to relax."

"How do you expect me to relax, Jongin?" I mumble heatedly, hurt swelling inside of my chest. "I broke up with the love of my life. I had a shitty week. I can barely do the second verse of the choreo without breaking my ankles-"

"You can’t relax," He speaks up, suddenly standing in front of me. Staring into my eyes with his determined ones. "Because you don’t want to."

"I-"

"You fear what will happen if you do." He continues, holding me captive with his piercing gaze. "You fear the unknown."

"D-Don’t I have the right to...?" I hush, feeling my heart race the longer I look into his observant brown eyes. A part of me hates it; being read like an open book. My vulnerabilities and weak points on display without me wanting them to be. But this is Jongin.

He stares deep into my eyes, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. "Not on my watch."

There’s nothing to fear.

He selects a song for the stereo to play, and the moment a certain afrobeat instrumental plays through its speakers, I feel the urge to move my body deep in my soul.

"Let go," He encourages, turning around to meet my eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

Woman

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I’m intimidated by my reflection in the mirror. The sight of me with messy hair, dewy skin, baggy clothes, and my bare feet makes me feel like the wildest looking woman in the world… until I see the sadness and fear visible in my own eyes.

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

Slowly, I move my hips to the beat, getting a feel for it while watching myself in the mirror. My awkward posture makes me tsk, shifting into a more flattering and stable position.

What you need?

She give tenfold, come here, papa, plant your seed

She can grow it from her womb, a family

Provide lovin' overlooked and unappreciated, you see (Yeah)

The lyrics… A sense of empowerment washes over me in waves, motivating the swirl of my hips and the smile forming on my lips. The melody of the song begins to seep into my very bones, warming me up from the inside out.

You can reciprocate

I got delicious taste, you need a woman's touch in your place

Just protect her and keep her safe

Baby, worship my hips and waist

So feminine with grace

I touch your soul when you hear me say, "Boy"

Let me be your woman

Winding my waist feels like the most natural thing in the world, circling my wrists while bringing my hands back down to my sides. I can see Jongin’s proud smile from the corner of my eye.

My movements get more energetic as the chorus plays again, the repetitive lyrics flowing like the blood in my veins, felt deep in my very being. Hitting me on a level that very few things ever could.

I glide across the floor when the second verse begins, letting my hair loose and throwing my weight around. The soreness of my waist only makes me shimmer harder, fighting against the aches trying to hold me back—against the chains locked in my mind.

Princess or queen, tomboy or king (Yeah)

You've heard a lot, you've never seen (Nah)

Mother Earth, Mother Mary rise to the top

Divine feminine, I'm feminine (Why?)

Throwing my hands up, I smile as Jongin starts complimenting my movements, playing a smooth rhythmic cat and mouse game with him all over the dance studio. My bare feet on the wooden floor propels me forward, making me feel more connected with the Earth around me, with the woman I want to be.

I’ve caught up to him by the time the song ends, breathing heavily with giddiness pumping in my veins. For the first time in months, maybe even years, I feel like me again—I’ve found myself again.

A hand tucking hair behind my ear has my eyes snapping up to Jongin’s, the adoring expression in his chestnut brown eyes making me feel small and appreciated at the same time. He cradles my face in the palm of his hand, rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek. Tingles erupt on my skin; my heart swells with something I haven’t felt in a long time when he starts to lean in.

"You were out fucking Jongin."

I flinch away, pressing my back to the wall, my heart in my throat. "I-I," I look away, hot embarrassment painting my face red. "I don’t want to make you a rebound." A thought occurs to me at that moment: how much taller and stronger Jongin is than me. The consequence of my actions. The vacant practice room. Fearing the worst, I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nothing happens for a while, the silence dragging on for so long that I start to grow lightheaded, cursing myself for agreeing to all of this in the first place.

Are you happy?

I pause, thinking hard for a moment. Despite the rain cloud constantly hanging over my head, I am doing something that I love. Regardless of me looking like pure shit, Jongin sees a light in me. And against all the fucking odds, I… I feel liberated. I feel free.

With that, I open my eyes, staring fearlessly at the man in front of me.

To my surprise, Jongin smiles. "I don’t want to overstep my boundaries," He mumbles, resting his forehead on mine.

A smile breaks out on my face, putting my secret dimples on full display.

It’s finally D Day—the dance competition is just about to begin, and I can’t for the life of me find my bracelet.

"Do you really need that?" Jongin carefully ruffles his styled hair, squinting with one eye over at me.

"It’s for luck," I justify, searching both our bags.

"You depend on a silly little bracelet to give you luck?"

"My grandma made it for me," I snap, my blood pressure skyrocketing.

"Okay, okay—you," He gently takes me by the shoulders, directing me to his chair. "Sit. I’ll find it."

Finding that all-too-familiar 'no nonsense’ expression on his face, I sigh, carefully covering my eyes with my hand. Both of us got our makeup done for today. He’s got on a golden glimmer of eyeshadow to bring out the sultry brown of his eyes, and I’m rocking a burgundy shade that makes my eyes have their own sensual glare in the mirror.

Tucking my hair-sprayed hair behind my ear, I wince at the thought of washing it out later, but the end result is worth it. My brown hair is bone-straight, complementing Jongin’s lavender-gray, middle-parted hair. Not gonna lie, he’s a total eye-candy right now in that red jacket and mesh shirt, and his stage presence is to die for. His oozing confidence just pumps me up even more.

Watching him pull out my bracelet from some hidden department that I have never seen before in my life and come over to strap it onto my wrist with the gentlest touch has newfound hope blossoming in my heart. We came to perform and we came to perform well.

As if hearing my thoughts, Jongin looks up at me at that moment, nodding firmly.

I nod right back, smiling softly. Win or lose, we are going to give it our all.

We make our way out of the dressing room, listening for our cue from the staff member next to the gap leading out onto the stage. They give directions to someone in their headset before giving us the signal.

I can hear the crowd as we step onto the stage, vibrating the floor under us and my whole being with their excited cheers. Nerves aren't pumping furiously through my veins. No, pure adrenaline guides me forward, and the reassuring smile Jongin sends my way makes me at ease all the more.

When the lights dim and the music starts, my hands are already in my hair, my hips popping to the beat.

Just let it flow as it is for me.

As it moves, show me.

I slide down into a crouch, spreading my knees before rolling my neck to the beat. Quickly standing back up, I slowly run my hands through my hair, swaying my hips side to side. I stop moving to let the crowd focus on Jongin, watching him with a smile.

The party has been getting boring.

Jongin starts doing his own thing while I beckon him closer with a body roll, strutting to him on the other side of the stage. I strike a different pose along to the beat, rubbing my hands over my body and rolling my hips.

Don’t hide it anymore for me

Sliding my hand down my chest, we lock eyes before the chorus hits.

The reason that hides your heart

Do you feel it triggering me a bit?

Here comes the fun part; we sync up our dance moves. Shooting each other little smiles while staying on beat. My long hair sways in the wind; the feeling of being free—free to be me striking me with a sense of comfort in this moment. Jongin catches my eye as if he feels it as well, his killer smirk morphing into a heartwarming smile.

Baby don’t play with me

I slow down to sway my hips to the beat while Jongin slides behind me, pressing his firm chest to my back. The ripples of his abs brush against me through the fabric of his mesh-shirt, warming my sun-kissed skin under the light heat of the partially cloudy sky. His hand tucks under my chin when I face him for the next lyric, "You’re my VIP."

(She talkin’ about)

We sync up again for the next part of the choreography, making me giggle in delight, beaming over the fact that I might have cried a hundred times practicing this choreo but I can finally say that I can dance it without breaking my ankles. And the proud smile on Jongin’s face adds onto that fact.

He points out to the crowd and we change positions as the pre chorus starts again. Jongin acts like the cool, smooth man that he is while I roll my way back to him, matching his moves before blowing a kiss to the crowd when the chorus kicks back in again.

Top down ya

It could be you and me, it could be you and me

I place my hand on Jongin’s shoulder, strutting around him while he shrugs off his jacket. Preparing for the bridge that we changed last minute. Now it’s his time to shine.

Now let me give you what you want tonight

You told me

I take a step back, focusing on complimenting his movements while he has his moment to woo the crowd. Those charming smirks and attractive smiles can steal the heart of anyone, especially the cheering people standing in the front row. There’s a lot of things I’ve learned recently about Jongin, and his unmistakable stage presence is one of them.

The chorus comes back one final time and we go all out. Dancing until our feet ache and the wind picks up around us. The sweet smell of tteokbokki and summer breeze in the air brings another smile to my face. Jongin gets down on the floor while I kneel on one knee to straddle his lap, looking into his eyes with his finger tucked under my chin as the last lyrics of the song fades away.

There’s a long moment of silence, and then the crowd erupts into cheers. Applauding so loud it overwhelms my sensitive ears. Jongin and I step forward to take one last bow, smiling at each other before making our way off stage… but a certain, persistent stare has my eyes flickering back to the crowd. The glimmer of silver hair in the front row is all I allow myself to see before hurrying to leave.

"That was," I start, gasping for breath by the time we reach the dressing room. "Fucking amazing!"

Jongin smiles, glancing over at me, "You liked it, huh?"

"Dude—I fucking lived for it!"

He laughs and it’s super cute, especially with his wide smile.

"That was so cool," I sigh, flopping down onto the couch.

Jongin raises a brow, a smile still on his plump lips. "Would you do it again?-"

"Hell no!" I squeak. "Well… Not unless it’s with you." His eyes dance under the painfully bright lights. "Stop smirking, I take it back."

"Don’t worry." He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back against the vanity table. "You’ll be the first one I call next time too."

We’re called back up onto the stage before I can reply, but the smile I beam his way speaks volumes. However, nerves are plaguing my mind this time around. There’s no mistaking the silver hair that I saw in the crowd.

Just as I thought, when we are standing next to the other contestants, there he is. Front and center. I close my eyes with a deep sigh. What the fuck, man? Why are you everywhere?! Can I catch a break from him please? Please?!

Tension builds in my body, but then something cracks.

You know what—

I clench my fists. Fuck him. It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not; he’s no longer a part of my life. Why should I care?

My eyes don’t stray far from the judge and Jongin, even with the constant itch of Baekhyun’s stare. Take a picture, it’ll last longer, asshole.

The minutes seem to drag on as the judge gives his big speech, listing the criterias and rubric for calculating the winner. A whole lot of gibberish that I have no interest in listening to; I hope Jongin is paying attention. The knowing look he gives me when we briefly make eye contact confirms it. Yep, I smile sheepishly. Sorry.

That damn ticklish sensation on my skin still hasn’t moved while the couple in 3rd place steps forward to receive their reward. I swear to the heavens, Byun Baekhyun—

Snapping my neck around, I glare right at him despite my heart dropping at the sight.

He stands in the front row, sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest of the crowd in his black hoodie and dark jeans. The only thing that makes him pop is his ever-silver hair… and the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

My heart races. Are those—

"And the winner is: Jongin and Riley!"

The crowd roars in excitement, everyone standing up to applaud us as the judge hands Jongin the trophy and a helper places a ribbon around my shoulders. I can’t help but beam at Jongin, both of us smiling wide enough for our mouths to hurt later, but I don’t worry about that now. This is our moment. I throw my arms around him, laughing loudly when he sets down the trophy to spin me around in the air.

"We did it!" I wrap my arm carefully around his neck, pumping my fist in the air.

Jongin sets me back down, keeping his arms loosely around my waist. "You," He plants a kiss on the top of my head, "did it."

I can’t erase the smile on my face or the glee in my heart even if I tried. My eyes glance back out at the crowd while he goes around congratulating the other contestants, immediately locking onto those soul-sucking, puppy brown eyes. Half a year later and his eyes never fail to make me feel nothing and everything all at once. But I won’t let that define me: I’m not Baekhyun’s woman anymore.

Spectators in the crowd around him are buzzing with energy, dancing to the outro music they are playing overhead while he continues to stand stock-still, his brown eyes focused on me.

My mind drifts for a second, imagining what it would have been like to be standing up on this stage with him, winning the competition with him by my side. I acknowledge it, let my mind have its little reminiscing moment—and then nip it right in the bud.

I don’t want to live a life of 'What ifs?’ anymore—I want to experience those 'Why nots?’ instead.

I sense Jongin before he steps closer, his chest brushing against the back of my arm. "Are you ready to go?" He asks, his lips grazing my ear.

I continue to lock eyes with Baekhyun, laughing inwardly at the unreadable expression on his face and the lack of a sparkle in his eyes. And when that tall raven from months ago runs to pull him into a hug, my gaze doesn’t waver from his in the slightest. "Yes." I turn my back on him and rest my hand on Jongin’s bicep with a swirl of my hips, peeking at him from under my eyelashes.

He smiles down at me, understanding dawning in his eyes. We link our arms together while walking backstage and out of the stadium.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1) P(2)

A/N: Team Jongin or Team Baekhyun? After that dance practice scene, my heart is stuck somewhere in between 💔

Hiya! Long time no see (^-^)

I don't have much to say ahh (>.<) my brain is fried. The emotions in this chapter came from a week of sleepless nights and a marathon of Doja Cat's Planet Her <3 I still got 10 scenes to finish up before Six Phases will be completed. This isn't the end! Just the best cliffhanger I could do with a 100+ page doc (thanks to my nearsightedness. font-size 16 is a lifesaver)

I might suddenly drop the Finale out of nowhere :'D everything depends on Riley~

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story!! 🥺🥰🌸💗 Writing this baby (haha) is my favorite thing to do and to share it with all of you means the world to me <333 Alright, I'll stop being mushy. Have a great weekend, lovelies! See you as soon as the Finale is done~

Happy two years of Un Village & city lights!!

youtube

Thank you endless Baekhyunee for inspiring me. I wouldn't be here without you ❤️

#baekhyun angst #baekhyun romance #baekhyun fanfiction #bbh-net #baekhyun #Team J or Team B?#Six Phases

37 notes · View notes

erzaguin · 3 years

Text

Huntmira Week Day 5/6/7: Masquerade/First Kiss/Favorite Headcanon

Intro

“Welcome one and all to the Emperor’s Coven celebration of the fast approaching day of unity! Emperor Bolos has graciously opened his home to all of you for a masquerade ball! Now come in and celebrate with us!”

Once the announcer's speech was over the gates to the Emperor’s Coven were open to the select few that had been invited to the ball. Only the most high tear residents of the Boiling Isles had been granted the honor of attending the event.

“Alright you three I want everyone to be on their best behavior, only the most elite were invited to this event so we should take advantage of this opportunity to make new connections.¨ said Odalia as she scanned the room for potential targets. ¨These masks will make things a bit more difficult but itś nothing we can't handle.¨

“You two know what you need to do right?” asked Odalia while holding on to her husband's arm to keep him from running off on his own. The man is a genius when it comes to inventing new products but he needs a bit of help when it comes to socializing. A skill that is essential to growing their business.

“Yes mother” responded the twins in unison giving her their best smiles.

“Good now go mingle” she said as she started pulling her husband along with her towards an unsuspecting group of potential clients.

While their younger sister was charged with testing and showing off Blight industry products the twins were tasked with being the faces of the company. They were meant to one day take over their mother's role as promoters of the family business. She knew that the twins were more than capable at speaking with clients and investors which is why she always kept them on the forefront during social events. They were naturally charismatic and had inherited her quick witts. One day they would be the ones running the company so it was important they build strong business relations.

Twins

“So what do you think?” asked Edric as he squinted in an attempt to survey the room. He needed glasses but he never wore them in front of others. The only times he used them was when he was home alone doing homework.

They were already drawing a lot of attention. Though this was intentional Odalia liked for all of them to stand out in these types of events. Making a lasting impression was good for business.

Emira was wearing a big beautiful off the shoulder golden gown with emerald detailings with her hair done up in a bun wearing a mask that matched her dress. Edric who was standing next to her was wearing a suit similar in design to his sisters with a matching mask. Even in a room filled with extravagant attire the two still stood out.

“You heard what mother said we have to mingle. See anyone we know?” responded Emira while she scanned the faces of the people starting to make their way to them.

“Nope I can’t tell who anyone is with all these flamboyant outfits. Want to just hit the obdurves table?”

“Amity is lucky she didn't have to come. She gets to hang out with her girlfriend while we get to mingle with business partners” mumbled Emira to herself.

“I see you’re mad you don’t get to see your boyfriend today” said Edric without thinking. Emira had still not fully forgiven him for ruining the first time she and Hunter met outside the library. “I mean uh yeah today is when you would normally go meet up with Hunter right?” he added in a panicked tone. The look on Emira’s face made him regret bringing up the subject.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve already told you we are just friends. Besides, we haven’t spoken since that day at the carnival.” noted Emira in a grim tone.

“I’m really sorry Em I really messed things up between you guys” apologized Edric feeling genuinely remorseful. Emira had helped him find a partner and he had ruined her relationship with the first boy she liked.

“Like I said there was never anything between us. Let’s just go, come on.” mumbled Emira as she started to make her way to the obvdorbes table with Edric quick behind her heels.

It was true there wasn't anything between her and the Hunter. They were just friends if you could call them that. Even though they had been spending a lot of time together for a few months now Emira was not sure how Hunter saw her. They had never spent any time together outside of the library. He never spoke about himself to her all Emira knew was that Hunter was raised by his uncle but he wouldn’t say more than that. Most of the time he acted like he didn’t want her there.

It was her own fault. She knew better. The number one rule that has been drilled into all three siblings is do not get attached. The moment you get attached to something you lose. But I had been sure it would be different with Hunter. It was different with him. They would spend the days they weren’t together sending messages to one another. Or at least they had until that day at the carnival. It had already been a week since then and Hunter had still not spoken to her. The only message he had sent her after the carnival just said one word.

“I know Ed blames himself and at first I blamed him too but I know it’s not his fault. I was the one that fantacied there was something there when there obviously wasn’t. Live and learn right? At least it ended before it started. I just wish he would have said something instead of just ghosting me. I thought that at the very least the time we had spent together would have earned me that much. Who knows maybe I’ll meet someone here? One thing's for sure next time around I won’t be making the same mistake again.” thought Emira to herself as she kept moving forward.

Hunter

"She's pretty" noted Emperor Belos from his throne to Hunter who was standing next to him.

"Huh? Who?" Question Hunter puzzled by his uncle's words. He had never heard Emperor Belos refer to anyone as pretty or even note a person’s appearance. It somehow felt wrong coming from him, especially while he was wearing his mask.

"The girl you've been staring at all evening" teased Emperor Belos who was now looking directly at him.

Hunter had never been so happy to be wearing his helmet as it shielded his burning face from his uncle. "No I wasn't… I was scanning the room for threats… yeah threats'' sputtered Hunter as he panicked at the sudden accusation. His uncle had no idea of the secret meetups he had been having with Emira over the past few months and Hunter prefered to keep it that way.

“Ah yes that young lady does certainly look very threatening.” mused Belos looking back in the direction of the. “ Is she? She’s the eldest Blight girl right? That’s her brother next to her. Hmmm looks like she doesn't have a date. You know you should ask her for a dance. That way you can put your suspicions to rest.” said Belos as he leaned in towards Hunter so only he could hear him.

Although he knew it was impossible Hunter was afraid that his uncle was able to see how red his face had become through his mask or that he could hear the beating of his heart which sounded like drums playing to him. He was at a complete loss of words at his sudden brashness. “...I … no I have to stay close incase of trouble.” managed Hunter. Belos gave a light chuckle before putting a hand on Hunter’s shoulder and giving him a slight push forward. “Go have fun, this is a celebration after all. And don’t worry about me, I think I can manage without you for the duration of a dance or two.” he jested in a warm tone.

Hunter stumbled forward before taking a look back at his uncle who was gesturing for him to go. This was not like him at all although they had never been in a situation where Hunter could actually socialize with people that were not in the coven or direct followers of Emperor Belos. It still felt wrong.

“That’s an order, go have fun.” added Emperor Belos in a more authoritative tone but Hunter could still hear the smile behind his mask. “Besides, we need someone that represents me to interact with our guests. Who better than my right hand man?” he added in a more relaxed tone.

Hunter took in his uncle's words before responding “Yes Emperor Belos”as he gave a bow in the direction of his uncle. He then turned around and started making his way through the crowd in the direction of Emira.

Twins

Edric noticed him first. It was the Golden Guard making his way straight to them ignoring everyone that tried to make conversation with him. “He must be mad,” whispered Edric to his sister.

“Who?” said Emira looking around for the source of her brother's concern but it did not take her long to realize who it was.

“Hey Ed, did you do something to the Golden Guard without telling me?’ asked Emira while raising an eyebrow at her brother.

“I was going to ask you the same thing” responded Edric. “What do you think he wants?”

“He probably wants to talk business since the Emperor practically owns Blight Industries now. Although that doesn’t explain why he would want to talk to us.” pondered Emira.

“Maybe he would rather talk to us than mom.” offered Edric.

“Well mom did say to mingle. Who knows maybe we can get on his good side?” replied Emira

Before Edric could respond the golden guard was already standing only a few feet from them. Just standing there staring in their general direction. Or at least they assumed he was it was hard to tell with his helmet on.

Hunter

“Ask her for a dance” he says, like it's that easy. Mumbled Hunter to himself. She doesn’t know I’m the golden guard, she'll probably think I’m just some creep. Not like it would be easier for Hunter to ask her for a dance. They hadn’t spoken since the carnival. When he came back to the castle that day he had been informed about the ball his uncle was throwing. Ever since then he had been extremely busy with managing the event. He hadn’t even had time to respond to her messages. The last message he sent to her just said busy. She probably hates him now.

Pl”us I’d never asked someone for a dance before and this was Emira. At least as the golden guard she wouldn’t be able to see his reactions to her teasing.” thought Hunter to himself as he continued to make his way through the crowd. “What am I supposed to say? Hey Em it’s me Hunter wanna dance? Oh this yeah I’m the Golden Guard. Yeah, the same Golden Guard that threatens your parents no big deal.” Scoffed Hunter to himself. He allowed himself to look back at Emperor Belos. He wasn’t surprised to see his uncle was watching him make his way to the twins.

“Right I was given an order and I have to follow it through. Maybe Emira doesn’t need to know who I am. That way I still get to follow my orders and she won't hate me as much” tried to bargain Hunter “...she’ll find out eventually though.” He was so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized he was already standing just a few feet from the twins. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves before taking a step forward “Here goes everything” thought Hunter to himself.

Twins

“Smile Ed,” whispered Emira to her brother who was getting more and more uncomfortable with the man standing before them. The Golden Guard stood there for an uncomfortable amount of time just staring at them or at least looking in their general direction; it was hard to tell with his mask on.

“Hey are you o…” before Edric could finish the Golden Guard took a step towards them which caused Edric to stop speaking.

Both twins bowed before the Golden Guard but when they lifted their heads they were surprised to see his hand was outstretched towards them.

Hunter cleared his throat before asking “Could I have this dance?”

The twins were momentarily dumbfounded. Did the Golden Guard just ask for a dance? He was directing his question at Emira but before she could respond Edric stepped forward and took the Golden Guard’s hand.

“Oh I thought you’d never ask.” said Edric as he feigned bashfulness.This was not the first creep that had set their sights on his sister and it wouldn’t be the last. This guy had muscled his way into their families business. Their parents had been on edge ever since their interaction with him. Golden Guard be damned there was no way Ed would allow him near his sister.

“Uhh I uh” Hunter was compleatly taken off guard by Edrics advance. Not to mention the sudden shift in his demeanor. Even though they had only met once before Ed had come across as a kind, warm, and childish individual. His words and actions did not match his eyes; the person in front of him had no warmth in his eyes. I wouldn't have thought he could be so assertive. “That makes sense after what you did to their parents,” thought Hunter to himself.

“That’s enough Ed” said Emira while placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Besides I believe he was asking me, right?” she noted with a smile while giving Hunter a wink.

“I uh yes ...um” Hunter felt his face get hot and once again was grateful for his helmet concealing his face.

“Em are you sure” whispered Edric to his sister while shooting a glare at Hunter.

“Yeah it’s ok I can handle this besides it’s just one dance. Why don’t you go find mom and dad? I’ll meet up with you guys after ok.” she whispered back trying to sooth her twin.

“...Ok” said Edric before shooting one last cold glance at Hunter and walking away to find their parents.

Blights

“...Isn't that right Honey '' gushed Odalia who was speaking with one of Blight Industries frequent customers about a potential new product. “Honey?”

Alador’s attention was completely enthralled by something off in the distance. “Alador?” puzzled Odalia as she began to worry.

“Dear is that our daughter dancing with the Golden Guard?” queried Alador who was squinting his eyes in an attempt to get a better view. Just like his son he also needed glasses but Odalia had given up on trying to get him new ones since he always broke or lost them. Now his goggles were his only glasses which he never remembered to use when he was not working on a project.

“What?! Where?!” asked Odlia while searching the dance floor for their daughter. Emira was not hard to find due to the extravagant dress. Not to mention people were giving the couple a bit more space given that her daughter's partner was indeed the Golden Guard. Odalia had made it a point of getting the twins the most extravagant attire she could find. It was important to make lasting impressions. Although she never thought that would earn this type of attention.

Odalia let out a slight gasp when she saw her eldest daughter dancing with Emperor Belos' right hand man. “Where's Edric?” breathed Odalia while she looked for her baby boy. There was no way Edric would have left his sister with the Golden Guard and she knew it. He had always been protective of her which means he might have done something reckless.

“I’m right here mother” grumbled Edric who was still staring daggers at his sister's dance partner from behind his parents.

“Oh dear, come tell us what happened,” whispered Odalia to her disgruntled son, making note that he did not have a scratch on him. That was a good sign.

“He just approached us and asked Em to dance, I tried stopping it but Em said she could handle it,” mumbled Edric who was still unsettled by the situation.

Odalia let out a sigh of relief and straightened herself. “Don’t worry dear, your sister can handle this, she's a very smart and resourceful girl. Before the night is over she’ll have the Golden Guard eating from the palm of her hand.” bragged Odalia while giving her son what she thought looked like a reassuring smile but was more self satisfying than anything. If Emira said she could handle it then Odalia was sure her daughter already had a plan in mind. Out of her children Emira had sertently been the one to have inherited her cunning.

“This could be a great opportunity for us,” added Alador who was still squinting at the dance floor.

“Yes indeed” noted Odalia who was already thinking of all the benefits that could come out of this.

Edric on the other hand was not convinced and he still wanted to get Emira away from that guy as soon as possible.

Hunter

“Step one two three.. Step one two three.. don’t step on her feet.” thought Hunter to himself as he tried to keep his cool. “Focus Hunter it’s just one dance you can do this just don’t look at her eyes. And remember you have the advantage since she can’t see your face. Yeah but you can see hers. Oh titan, how is she so calm?”

After a while of dancing Emira finally said “So you’re the Golden Guard?” she mused while giving him a mischievous smile.

Hunter had been spending all of his concentration dancing that he flinched when she spoke. “I um yes” he stammered before clearing his throat and saying it again this time with more confidence “Yes I am.”

“Who would have thought that nerdy boy I met at the library was actually Emperor Belos' right hand man,” wondered Emira to herself as she kept on dancing without any hesitation.

“Yeah… wait what? I... uh no don’t know what you mean,” faltered Hunter before finally giving up. “What gave it away?” he whispered, getting ready for the backlash that was sure to come.

“Your voice, I knew as soon as you asked me to dance. Did you really think I wouldn't be able to tell it was you?” she asked with a smile genuinely amused. “I will say that I was taken off guard at first. Not that you were the Golden Guard but that you were actually asking me to dance.”

Upon hearing this Hunter felt a huge weight lift off his chest and he felt his body relax. He had been so afraid of losing his best friend he never even stopped to think that no matter what she would always accept him for him.

“I’m sorry Em…” he started but was cut off by Emira who had leaned in to kiss him. Or at least she kissed his helmet where his lips would be.

“Curse this stupid helmet” thought Hunter to himself. He tried to speak but the only thing that came out was something that sounded like a whimper rather than words.

Emira giggled to herself while trying to hide her smile behind her hand. “Was she blushing?” thought Hunter.

“That was a lovely dance. We should do this again sometime but maybe next time lose the helmet? She said as she pulled away from him. “See you around Hunter.” she said as she started walking with that same smile on her face.

“What just happened? Did she just kiss him? Why did she kiss him? And why was he wearing this stupid helmet?!” thought Hunter to himself as his brain scrambled to make sense of what just happened.

It wasn’t until now that Hunter realized that the song they had been dancing to had long since ended.

Blights

As soon as Emira reached her family her mother quickly pulled her into a hug.

“You did good, dear” said Alador in his usual monotone voice.

“Way to go you just made that boy fall head over heels for you.” added Odalia in an excited tone.

She knew that her parents ment the remarks in terms of a business achievement but Emira could not help but smile at the thought of them praising her for dancing with the boy she liked.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile that brightened up her face.

The only one that was not in high spirits was Edric who could not believe what had just happened but before he could confront his sister Emira took him by the arm and pulled him away.

“We’re going to get some punch ok?” said Emria to her parents as she pulled her brother along.

“Alright have fun,” said Odaia before quickly turning around to speak with the crowd of people that had gathered around them. Having their daughter dance with the Golden Guard had definitely gotten them some attention.

Hunter

As soon as he gathered his bearings Hunter made his way back to Emperor Belos' side. And although he could not see his face he got the feeling that his uncle was grinning at him. But before he could reach him he was approached by Kikimora.

“How unsightly to have the Golden Guard walking around with lipstick on his helmet. You are supposed to be a representation of Emperor Belos yet look at you. Walking around like a love struck boy. You could hardly stay on your feet after that girl kissed you. How embarrassing.” sneered Kikimora low enough so that only Hunter could hear her.

“What lipstick?” thought Hunter to himself before the sudden realization dawned on him. Instead of heading back to his uncle he took a turn to go to a part of the castle that was sealed off for the rest of the party. Once he was out of sight he took off his helmet to inspect it and sure enough there it was. Emira’s lipstick from where she had kissed him. His face turned a deep crimson color when he realized he had been walking around like that on top of the realization that he had not imagined it she had kissed him.

He made up his mind, without putting his helmet back on he headed to his room to change.

Twins

“Em, wait, what’s going on? And why did you kiss that guy?” demanded Edric, digging in his heels so that his sister couldn't pull him anymore.

“Calm down Ed I just want to get somewhere we can talk without being interrupted ok?” said Emira who was still smiling.

“Fine, how about over there behind the stairs?” sighted Edric as he pointed to a set of stairs not far from them.

“That’s perfect” said Emira as she started making her way to them with her brother walking next to her.

As soon as they arrived Edric quickly started again but was silenced by Emira who had placed her hand over his mouth.

“I know what you’re going to say but wait and listen to me first. That was Hunter.” noted Emira before removing her hand from her brother's face.

Edric was in a brief state of shock unable to comprehend what his sister had just said. “Wait Hunter? Like your Hunter?” he asked, still not believing what his sister had said.

“Yup he’s the Golden Guard,” added Emira with a small smile.

“You knew? And you didn’t tell me? Em I was so scared” muttered Edric “Did you not tell me because of what happened at the carnival.” he whispered, sounding hurt.

“No Ed it’s not like that. I didn’t know either, I just found out too. You know I tell you everything.” she said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Edric returned his sister's smile before asking “So did he confess his undying love for you?”

Before Emira could respond Ed spun her around so she could see Hunter, not the Golden Guard, making his way towards them. He was wearing a white suit with a golden shirt and a mask that only covered his eyes.

“Ready for round two?” he said before stepping forward to greet Hunter. After they exchanged some words Emira could not make out Hunter continued making his way to her whild Ed used his magic to make sure nobody else could see the pair.

“Hey Em,” said Hunter, who was looking at the floor in a futile attempt to hide his face so she couldn't see him blushing.

“Hey,” she responded, trying to keep her normal composure.

“Um… you said you wanted to try a dance without the helmet right? So.. would you… like to dance with me.” said Hunter who had his hand outstretched towards her and whose face was the deepest shade of crimson color she had ever seen.

“Of course” said Emira while taking his hand.

The song that was playing was a slow song and it gave them time to talk. Once that song was over they kept on dancing to the next ones and catching up on everything they had not spoken about in the past week. How busy Hunter had been and how he was afraid that she might be angry at him to which Emira confessed she thought Hunter no longer wanted to be her friend.

Hunter had not realized he had made her sad. He always assumed she would be mad at him but it neve occurred to him that he would hurt her. She was the one person in the world he would never want to hurt. It must have been the sadness in her eyes which were always so full of joy and playfulness that made him lose his sense of reason. Before he knew what he was doing his lips were already pressed against hers.

When he pulled away he was ready to apologize for kissing her so suddenly but then she kissed him back.

When she pulled away Hunter could see her face. She was blushing and had a smile that lit up the entire room “I really missed you,” she said.

At seeing her face and hearing those words Hunter's heart skipped a beat. Nobody has ever said they missed him.

"I missed you too," he replied, returning her smile.

#the owl house #emira blight #huntmira #huntmiraweek2021 #toh hunter #toh fanfic #edric blight #odalia blight #alador blight #emperors coven #emperor belos #toh fanart #toh golden guard

30 notes · View notes

bettydice · 3 years

Video

Xicheng, Modern AU, JC&WWX reconciliation, E-Rated [Read on AO3]

CHAPTER 9

Saturday

The sun doesn’t show itself today. Heavy clouds block the view, and a strong wind is blowing. At least it’s not raining and this way, there aren’t many other people around. Lan Xichen doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all. He seems excited to be here, happily shows Jiang Cheng all his favourite spots. Sometimes he’ll say things like “This blooms in May and has the most gorgeous blossoms, we have to come back then!”. As though there’s no question they’ll still be doing things like this together then.

Everything goes well until they sit down in Lan Xichen’s favourite favourite spot: a bench hidden behind the swaying branches of a willow, overlooking a little pond.

They’re sitting close together, shoulders and legs touching, holding hands, seeking each other’s warmth as protection against the wind. In truth, it’s not very windy in this spot, the trees around them creating a buffer, but Jiang Cheng sees no reason to not be as close to Lan Xichen as possible.

They’ve been sitting there in peaceful quiet for a few minutes, Jiang Cheng mentally going through whether he really has everything he needs for dinner later, when he looks from the pond to Lan Xichen’s face. He looks… he looks sad. There’s a tension to his jaw and a crease between his eyebrows that would look more at home on Jiang Cheng’s face.

Should he ask him? Should he start talking about something random to distract him? That’s what Wei Wuxian would do, but Jiang Cheng is not good at talking nonsense. His sister would simply radiate an aura that let Jiang Cheng know he could talk to her and that everything would be okay. Lan Xichen also seems to have that ability. But Jiang Cheng is...himself.e doesn’t have any intrinsic soothing abilities. He can only try to imitate other people.

He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand to get his attention, and sees how Lan Xichen quickly masks his sad expression with his usual gentle smile before he turns his head to look at Jiang Cheng. That’s… that’s not what Jiang Cheng wanted.

“Are you okay?” The words feel clunky on his tongue, like he’s using these words for the first time. Which is not the case! He’s not that much of a lost cause.

Lan Xichen’s eyes widen just the tiniest bit, then deepens his smile and Jiang Cheng is sure he’s about to say that everything is fine. But instead Lan Xichen hesitates and… he drops the smile and sighs. “I was just reminded… The last time I was here, it was still spring. That tree was still in bloom.” He points at a tree across the pond. The wind is attacking it, leaves desperately trying to hold on to the branches and losing the fight. “It reminded me how stuck I’ve been… still am, really. Just drifting from day to day. I tried to recall what I did this summer and nothing memorable stood out to me.”

His first instinct is to disagree, though it’s not like Jiang Cheng can’t painfully relate to that feeling. “Well, you’re busy with your job and your bunnies and plants. And… time is bullshit anyway.”

Lan Xichen chuckles but quickly turns solemn again. “It hasn’t been long though since I started working again… you’re only my third client after my… let’s call it break.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know that. He didn’t know things had been so bad for Lan Xichen that he couldn’t work. At least he thinks that’s what he’s saying. He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand again, not sure what to say.

“I’m not saying this because… The fact that I’m working again shows that the past year hasn’t been in vain. I just… the world didn’t wait while I tried to heal.”

Jiang Cheng has nothing helpful to say, even though he can painfully relate to this feeling. Feeling stuck in one place while the world keeps turning, while other people seem to be able to forget and move on. He hopes his quiet support is enough for Lan Xichen.

They both look at the tree for a long moment. One of the struggling leaves gets torn off, but then gracefully loops through the air until it gently comes to rest on the water surface.

Lan Xichen turns to look at Jiang Cheng and smiles, without sadness. “But I think today will be memorable.You are.”

What the fuck? How can he just say that so casually? Jiang Cheng feels his face grow hot, while Lan Xichen just looks at him.

In lieu of an appropriate spoken response that doesn’t only consist of incoherent garbled noises, Jiang Cheng uses Wei Wuxian’s tried and trusted ‘Hey look, over there!’ tactic: “Hey, I saw online that there’s a lovely café close to the entrance. Let’s go there and treat ourselves to something nice. It’s your birthdate after all.” Ugh, fuck Nie Huaisang and his stupid word creations. “Your birthday date.. Not date. Whatever. Only if you want to, of course?”

Lan Xichen’s mouth twitches with amusement, but doesn’t call Jiang Cheng on his bullshit. “That sounds lovely. You’re right, it is my birthdate.”

Jiang Cheng snorts a laugh, then gets to his feet, pulling Lan Xichen up with him.

The café is indeed very nice and thankfully pretty empty. Lan Xichen orders a chocolatey drink that could rival one of Jin Zixuan’s sugar-coffee-monstrosities and a piece of cake topped with colourful sparkles.

“I’m going to regret this later,” he cheerfully announces before tucking in.

Jiang Cheng keeps a close watch on his face while eating his own brownie and black coffee, not wanting to risk missing a shift in his mood like last time. Even though Lan Xichen stays cheerful the entire time, Jiang Cheng keeps watching him anyway, because he can’t look anywhere else.

As it turns out, it was a very good idea for them to go to that café, as dinner… takes a while. Jiang Cheng may have severely underestimated how long it would take to prepare all the different side dishes he wants to make and may have severely overestimated how much food is a good amount for two people to make. Oh well, it’s always good to have leftovers. To his relief everything tastes really good. Though maybe not too surprising, since he got most recipes from his sister.

After dinner, they sit down on the couch, both a little tired after eating so much food. Jiang Cheng is busy mulling over how to best initiate, well… cuddling, when Lan Xichen turns to face him, smiles, and kisses him.

Jiang Cheng takes this opportunity to put his arms around Lan Xichen’s shoulders and pull him closer, all while enthusiastically kissing him back.

“Mhm.” Lan Xichen huffs a laugh against his lips, then pulls back a little. “I’ve wanted to do that since… the whole day, basically.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, we were in public. And then you were intensely focused on preparing dinner. I thought it was better to just quietly chop the things you threw on my cutting board.”

Lan Xichen is only teasing him, Jiang Cheng is pretty sure about that, though he can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. He instantly squashes that feeling though, because: “We’re not in public now.”

“No, we’re not.” Lan Xichen lifts his hand to Jiang Cheng’s face, his thumb caresses his cheekbone, then he slowly slides his hand down until it’s resting on Jiang Cheng’s neck. “So…?”

Jiang Cheng either nods or shakes his head, he doesn’t know, he only knows Lan Xichen kisses him again, draws him close, hand secure in his neck.

They haven’t done this before. Kissed so deeply, unrestricted by location or time. The intensity is overwhelming and it’d be so easy for him to overthink this. Are his kisses gentle enough? Passionately enough? Hands - where? What’s his dick doing? But this kiss is too nice to have it ruined by such things. So he focuses fully on the kissing, opens for Lan Xichen after he teases his lower lip with his tongue and just allows himself to get lost in it.

Lan Xichen’s hand keeps wandering lower and lower, until it’s resting on Jiang Cheng’s hip, fingers touching the waistband of his jeans through his sweater. He wants to feel his hand directly on his skin, but is not sure if that’s where this is going, if Lan Xichen would want that too.

After a while, Lan Xichen ends the kiss so they can catch their breath. He smiles down at him, which is when Jiang Cheng notices he’s somehow lying on his back now.

Lan Xichen’s face is flushed, his hair in disarray (because of Jiang Cheng’s hands! Another thing he only just now realises), his eyes dark, his lips red… Jiang Cheng reaches for him to pull him into another kiss, but Lan Xichen doesn’t let himself be pulled just yet.

“Is this okay?”

Jiang Cheng follows his gaze down to where - oh - Lan Xichen’s hand rests on his waist, under his sweater. “Oh... yeah. Yeah.” Then, in a move not supported by any brain cells, he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath. Lan Xichen looks stunned, of course he is, because Jiang Cheng skipped straight to undressing for no reason. Maybe it’s because he’s so used to undressing in Lan Xichen’s presence, maybe because he knows how it feels to have Lan Xichen’s hands on his body and he wants them there, wants to-

Lan Xichen kisses him again, his lips as hot as his hands, fingertips pressing into Jiang Cheng’s back.

Jiang Cheng is having an out of body, no, out of mind experience. He’s very much inhabiting his body, feeling everything. How his skin is hot everywhere their bodies touch, Lan Xichen’s mouth on his jaw, his neck, the familiar slide of Lan Xichen’s long fingers, now touching him in a way he’s very decidedly never done during his massages. He’s never gripped his hip to pull him closer, has never sighed against his mouth.

In the few moments he has access to his brain, he desperately uses it to make sure he’s kissing Lan Xichen just as intently, that his touch is just as gentle, that he somehow remembers to breathe during all this… There’s no room for anything else.

He gets lost in it completely, until eventually Lan Xichen breaks the kiss again.

“Maybe we should… I should probably go home…” It sounds like a question, so Jiang Cheng answers.

“You don’t have to.” He feels even hotter after he says this, probably flushing. It’s not like it’d come as a surprise to Lan Xichen that Jiang Cheng is aroused, not the way they’re pressed together, the way Lan Xichen now drags his heavy gaze from Jiang Cheng’s face down his body and back up again. He’ll be able to see that Jiang Cheng wants him to, would let him… that he wants everything. Lan Xichen holds his gaze, his hand tightens on Jiang Cheng’s hips as if he wants to keep him right here, underneath him. As if Jiang Cheng would want to go anywhere else right now…

Then Lan Xichen’s face softens, he loosens his grip and he closes his eyes, laughing quietly. Oh. So not today. “I… I want to. But…”

“No, don’t worry! That’s okay. I was just… it’s too-”

“I want to,” Lan Xichen says emphatically, looking directly at him. “But it was a long day. A lovely day, but…” He falters, his eyes now looking at Jiang Cheng’s cheek instead of his eyes. A few seconds pass, Lan Xichen’s brow furrowing as he’s looking for the right words. “I’m actually quite exhausted - a good exhaustion! But I had to feel a lot today. … If that makes sense at all?”

Jiang Cheng takes Lan Xichen’s face between his hands and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “Of course.”

Lan Xichen sighs relieved, then sits up and tries to straighten his hair, a hint of embarrassment tugging at the corners of his mouth. He does look a little tired, now that the haze of lust has dissipated between them, and Jiang Cheng can see more clearly. Jiang Cheng feels the exhaustion, too, as though he’ll fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

“What time is it?” Jiang Cheng asks while following Lan Xichen into a sitting position, then lifts his arm, because he’s wearing a goddamn watch so he can answer his own fucking question. “9 p.m.? What the fuck… how long did we…”

Lan Xichen only hums, clearly amused, and bends forward, so he can hand Jiang Cheng his sweater and t-shirt from where he’d carelessly thrown it on the floor. While Jiang Cheng struggles to put them back on, having to first untangle the shirt from the sweater before deciding to just not bother with the t-shirt, Lan Xichen yawns extensively, and for some reason, with his sweater only halfway on, Jiang Cheng opens his mouth to say: “You could spend the night here.”

Lan Xichen just cocks his head at him, slightly raises his eyebrows. Saying ‘Didn’t I just decline your horny offer’ without actually saying so.

“No, I meant - “ Jiang Cheng manages to jam his arm in the other sleeve and is now mostly dressed again. “I meant, you could sleep here. So you don’t have to go home first. Like, on the couch - it’s not actually that comfortable though, so I should take the couch… But you probably want to sleep in your own bed, sorry.”

“Actually, I think that sounds lovely,” Lan Xichen says, then looks surprised at his own words. Jiang Cheng is surprised, too. “Would it not be a bother?”

“For me? Not at all!” Jiang Cheng thinks his brain has never fully come back online after their kisses. Words leave his mouth and he doesn’t know where they came from. He keeps spewing them out, unable to stop. “But… you don’t have any… like pyjamas or a toothbrush - do I have a spare toothbrush? I think there was a buy two get one free sale recently?”

Why isn’t Lan Xichen interrupting him to say ‘You’re right, I’ll go home immediately so you can stop embarrassing yourself.’ Instead he just looks at him, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Uh, but breakfast. Well, there’s definitely enough food in my fridge now after dinner. Do I have - no, I have extra bedding, of course I do.” Okay, it’d be neat if he could stop talking now. Jiang Cheng grabs a pillow and presses it against his stomach, the next best thing to screaming into it. He focuses really hard and tries to find a sentence that can function as some kind of end point. “But... you... probably? Have to… take care of your bunnies anyway?”

Lan Xichen is still only looking, head slightly cocked, but now his lips are twitching as though he’s trying hard not to laugh. A few seconds later, he does laugh, and hot shame courses through Jiang Cheng. He really made it obvious he doesn’t have a lot of experience with asking people to stay over. (Usually it just happened naturally after sexual activities of one kind or the other. He’s never asked anyone to stay because he… Why did he ask? Because he doesn’t want Lan Xichen to leave just yet?)

Lan Xichen notices how Jiang Cheng’s expression changes to regret; he stops laughing and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… It was just fascinating to see you voice the kind of thoughts I was probably about to have in a few minutes myself. Now I don’t have to, so, thank you.”

What? “You’re welcome?”

“And the bunnies will be fine. Wangji visited them tonight anyway.”

“Okay. So…” Jiang Cheng seems to have used up all his words before. It’s probably better that way.

“So, I wouldn’t mind staying over.” Lan Xichen smiles at him warmly, fondly. He stands up and tugs on Jiang Cheng’s hand. Jiang Cheng follows him up easily.

“Oh. Okay. That’s great! Cool.”

“Do you want to check whether you have a spare toothbrush?” There’s that twinkle in Lan Xichen’s eyes that always takes Jiang Cheng by surprise, but that he loves to see. It reminds Jiang Cheng it’s okay to just be in Lan Xichen’s presence, and it restarts his brain. He huffs a laugh, his shoulders relaxing, and goes to look for that toothbrush.

As it turns out, Jiang Cheng did have a spare toothbrush, as well as the lounge clothes Lan Xichen lent him after Cloud peed on him and Jiang Cheng kept forgetting to return. He also had a second set of bedding, though nobody ends up sleeping on the couch. Jiang Cheng isn’t entirely sure how that happened, he just knows that it’s shortly after midnight, Lan Xichen is lying next to him, sleeping next to him, and Jiang Cheng is scared to move in case it wakes him up.

He has barely moved since they turned off the light almost two hours ago. Usually, he turns and twists a lot before he falls asleep, because his tense shoulders make it difficult to find a comfortable position. The position he is in now is definitely not comfortable, in fact, his right shoulder might be cramping up a little. It’s been two hours, Lan Xichen is probably deep asleep by now - it’d be okay to adjust his position a little, right? He’ll be careful, he won’t wake him.

Jiang Cheng slowly rolls over on his left side, quietly slides his hand under his pillow and pulls one leg towards him. He glances towards Lan Xichen, to make sure he didn’t wake him, only to lose five years of his life, as Lan Xichen is returning his look, eyes wide open.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Jiang Cheng whispers, he tries to, anyway. His voice still feels too loud. It always does.

“Of course not,” Lan Xichen replies with perfect talking-in-the-middle-of-the-night volume. “You haven’t made a sound since we laid down.”

“Can’t sleep?” This time, Jiang Cheng’s voice comes closer to Lan Xichen’s softness.

Lan Xichen’s face is only barely visible in the darkness, but because Jiang Cheng knows it so well, his mind can fill the shadows with memories of the day. He can see his eyes, though, reflecting the moonlight that sneaks through the curtains.

“Mhm.” Lan Xichen adjusts his position, face inching a little closer to Jiang Cheng. “It’s been a while since I shared a bed with someone.”

“Me too. I’m scared to move in case I disturb you.” These things are easier to admit in the dark.

“Mhm.”

Lan Xichen sounds so sleepy; Jiang Cheng regrets asking him to stay. If he hadn’t, Lan Xichen would be soundly asleep in his own bed right now. “I’ll go sleep on the couch then, I should have done that from the start, sorry.”

As soon as he says that, Lan Xichen throws his arm across Jiang Cheng’s body. “No, stay.”

“Oh, okay. Are you sure?”

Lan Xichen throws his leg over Jiang Cheng’s legs, too, then pulls him closer until Jiang Cheng can feel his breath on his face. “Very sure.”

“Okay.” Jiang Cheng moves his right arm a little, so his hand lies between their chests and isn’t in danger of brushing against Lan Xichen’s crotch anymore. “Yeah, okay.”

“This way we don’t have to worry about accidentally touching the other,” Lan Xichen says, his smile hard to make out in the darkness, but nevertheless beautiful. He moves back his leg, but before Jiang Cheng can miss the touch, he slides it between Jiang Cheng’s legs. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.” Jiang Cheng is surprised to find that to be actually true. Knowing that the warmth he feels is not his blanket, but coming from Lan Xichen, the reassuring weight of his arm... He splays his fingers, so his little finger brushes against Lan Xichen’s chest.

Lan Xichen hums, content, and for a while they just lie like this, quietly. Until Jiang Cheng feels the urge to talk again. It must be a leftover from the year he shared a room with Wei Wuxian until they moved to a bigger house. Wei Wuxian always started chatting as soon as they turned off the light.

“Technically, there is a second bedroom here. I just never go in there.”

Lan Xichen strokes his hand across Jiang Cheng’s back, to signal that he’s listening.

“It’s Wei Wuxian’s room. Well, it was supposed to be. And now...” Now it’s just there, reminding him every day of how he fucked things up.

“You’re not using it?” Lan Xichen asks gently. It’s not a reproach, he simply wants to know.

Jiang Cheng shakes his head, then says ‘No’ out loud, in case Lan Xichen couldn’t see it.

“Because you’re waiting for him to come back?”

“I... No. Yes. Maybe? I generally avoid thinking about it. You’ve seen what happens when I think about it.”

“Mhm.” Lan Xichen keeps stroking his back. He’s not moving his arm, just lightly moves his hand back and forth. “If it was empty, what would you use the room for?”

Jiang Cheng takes a moment to think about it, since he’s never done that before. “I don’t know. I guess… an office? But I don’t want to waste a whole room for my shitty degree. Maybe… I could turn it into a proper guest room, for when Jin Ling gets older. Maybe he could stay over sometimes.”

“That sounds nice. You could still put your desk in there, it helps to have your work space separate from your living space.”

“Yeah… That makes sense, I suppose.” The thought of changing it from Wei Wuxian’s Room to something else doesn’t fill him with the dread he expected, surprisingly. He does know, somewhere deep in his heart, that even if they reconcile, Wei Wuxian won’t move in here. Shouldn’t. They were horrible roommates, if he considers it honestly. There’s no reason to hold on to this old bitterness, no reason to still let it poison his mood. “I should do that.”

“I’ll help you. I like redecorating.”

Lan Xichen says it so matter of fact, Jiang Cheng can’t help himself - he has to kiss him. He closes the last remaining distance between them and gives him a short, sweet kiss. He doesn’t move back after, just stays there, as close as possible.

“I wanted to thank you for inviting me to your home,” Lan Xichen whispers against his lips.

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure this is something he should be thanked for. Compared to Lan Xichen’s flat, his is unremarkable. “Uh, thank you for coming over.”

“It means a lot that you shared your space with me.”

It’s weird being this close. He can only see blurry shapes instead of Lan Xichen’s face. But his voice is so clear, even though he’s whispering. He can feel it when he talks, the movement of his lips, his chest under his fingers. Jiang Cheng has never experienced this kind of intimacy. It��s exciting but he’s also a little scared what kind of secret this atmosphere might drag out of him. “Well, it’s only fair, since I’ve spent so much time at your place already.”

“Still… I was… “Lan Xichen hesitates. He slowly cards his fingers through Jiang Cheng’s hair while mulling over his words. “It means a lot.”

Somehow, Jiang Cheng understands. Lan Xichen’s words shape the form of an old wound. Or maybe a scar, by now. He presses another kiss to his lips, though misses by a little and only catches the corner of his mouth. “Even though I don’t have any plants?”

“You’re right, we need to change that.”Lan Xichen laughs quietly and pokes Jiang Cheng’s foot with his big toe. “I like it here. Even without plants.”

“Not much to like. Yours is much nicer,” Jiang Cheng mumbles.

“You live here,” Lan Xichen replies, as though that’s answer enough. Maybe it is. It’s not an answer Jiang Cheng can deal with right now, so he just makes a noise in between a hum and a scoff.

They fall quiet again, and Jiang Cheng closes his eyes after a while. He thinks he could finally fall asleep like this, lulled by the soothing rhythm of Lan Xichen stroking his hair.

“I like your hair like this.”

It takes Jiang Cheng a second to realise that he should reply, that he’s still awake. “Mhm?”

“You usually tie it back.” Lan Xichen lets one strand of hair run between his fingers, then tucks it behind Jiang Cheng’s ear.

“I should cut it short again. Been months. A year.” Jiang Cheng wonders if it’s possible to fall asleep while talking. He’s surprised by every word that manages to squeeze through his tired lips.

“I like it.”

“You like a lot of things. My flat, my hair, my face…”

“It’s true. I do.” Lan Xichen is smiling, Jiang Cheng can hear it.

“Me too. Like yours. You.”

“Mhm, that’s good.”

Jiang Cheng falls asleep then, but Lan Xichen’s presence follows him into his dreams. He sleeps very well.

#xicheng #the untamed #Jiang Cheng #Lan Xichen #cql #modern au #To Meet You verse #betty drabbles

21 notes · View notes

infinitegalahad · 3 years

Text

WIFE

Summary: You and Dick, after years of indefinite separation and depression, have finally reunited. Dick can’t wait to start a family with you. You love Dick, but you soon realize that you cannot bear him a son, a daughter, or a child.

Word Count: 10.9k (i’m being generous)

Warnings: Infertility, period typical sexism, Loneliness, based off of a mitski song what did you expect, here comes the angst train *sad choo choo*

Notes: Female reader. and title (literally) taken from Wife By Mitski, which I rec listening too for the extra painful experience. So I’m back from the dead...ish. I wanna apologize for going AWOL for two-three months, guess Iw anted to focus on other works and I feel like x readers are not my strong suit. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna write them! I can’t promise anything, but I am planning some stories. Not as long or as painful as this is, of course!

I’m not gonna lie, I cried while writing this. Not only because it’s Mitski, but infertility is something that hit’s close to home for me and my family. Was this story just me projecting my generational trauma into this fic? Never! Anyways, hopefully I won’t go AWOL again, atleast not for that long. It’s really hard to find the motivation to write, but I’ll do it. For you guys ;)

Taglist: @easy-company-tradition

When Dick Winters had left for the war five years ago, he had made a promise to you the night before he was drafted. You were nineteen and naive, planned for college and he was twenty-seven, a post-graduate and Business Major. Your father was his professor and one of his best students. You would see Dick every Friday Night. As you would pick at the leftover peas on your plate, he would turn to look at your father to talk about something business-related. His eyes, you could never tell if they were a light shade of blue or green, would meet yours. It would be for a brief second. Those brief seconds would make you drop your fork and your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

You had a small crush on Dick Winter’s.

It took you a few weeks to catch onto his eye color. They were a beautiful mixture of blue and green, reflecting a mint color. The taper candles would always lighten his eyes up. The reason you finally found out this eye color was because each dinner, you’d catch Dick staring at you. You were naturally oblivious to it, keeping your head down as your father talked a business deal. But whenever he mentioned Dick’s name, you would look up, see Dick’s dilated mint pupils looking right into your eyes before he swiftly turned his head to your father, acting like he was listening to every little word he was saying.

Dick had become a family friend. Instead of dinners once a week, he would come by your house more frequently in the summer months. The summer you had met Dick, there was a three-month-long heatwave. From what you understood, Dick had been doing an internship with your father along with extra studies, extracurriculars, and even more. It sounded like a lot for a young man. He was over three times a week, always in your father’s studies or the porch, drinking lemonade as he and your father discussed business. You’d sit on top of the porch, lazily slumped in a chair in your floral dirndl, reading And Both Were Young as you watched Dick Winters, in shorts and a tight white shirt with his strawberry blonde hair a little messy. Every time he spoke, your heart would skip a beat.

“Two jobs?” You cried, skipping ahead of him in your flats that you had slipped on in a rush, the heels hanging out of the back. “And an internship? How do you do it all?”

Dick looked down at your tiner figure, his lips curving into a subtle smile at your question. Whenever he smiled, his cheeks would wrinkle. It was a small detail you caught into about Dick that you adored. “I don’t go to parties a lot. Not worth the time that I’ve got. I work these jobs so I can get through school and support my family.”

“That’s very admirable, Dick. Not a lot of guys my age would even consider that.” You remarked with a compliment. Dick walked beside you, hands behind your back with a straight back. His gaze lingered in you as he scanned your figure. Now that Dick was around more often, you always made sure to wear your best outfits. You wouldn’t have considered yourself very vain, but with Dick, something had changed. You started wearing the pretty pastel dresses your mother approved off, fine pearls, expensive cologne, and even the short rompers that your mother didn’t approve of. When wearing makeup, you felt like a woman more than a girl, which is what you wanted Dick to see you as.

“Thank you, y/n.” The strawberry blonde politely thanked with a curt nod. The two of you had a little routine now. While your mother would make dinner and your father would smoke a cigar in the back with the dogs, you’d take Dick into your backyard and down a little cobblestone trail to a hidden lake. You liked to go there to read to escape, and Dick needed a small break from working in the burning heat. So it was idle. “Do you have plans now that you’ve graduated?”

“Yes. I’m starting classes at Franklin and Marshall since they’ve allowed women. My mother prefers I stay home and learn how to be a lady instead of reading,” You explained with a sigh. The only woman in a class full for men. Times were changing, and nothing was going to stop you from working. “She cares more about her grandchildren then her daughter’s desires.”

“Well, it is your choice? Not your mother or father’s. As long as you were happy, then they should be happy for you. I think you’ll like it,” Dick kindly reassured, “You’re a very nice young lady, y/n. I’m sure you’ll do great things.”

The two of you arrived at the lake. The sun was setting over the sky as it shined on the lake. There was an orange and pink hue in the sky. Dick and you stood besides each other. The strawberry blonde shut his eyes and let out a long sigh, feeling a small breeze in the night. The air got colder in the nights, which felt like a refreshing treat after a long day of work and unbearable heat. The sun made his strawberry blonde hair and skin glow like he was some kind of god.

You admired Dick as he stood there, biting your lip and hands playing with the belt fabric on your skirt.

“Dick?” You managed to choke, your voice cracking.

He opened one eye and looked at you, worried. “Is everything okay, y/n?”

“Can you please kiss me?”

Dick looked bewildered. It took him a second to process the question. His expression was that of a high school student stumped on an equation in math class. He hadn’t been outside much, maybe the heat was getting to him. “I don’t think I heard that correctly.”

“Can you please kiss me?” You reiterated, biting your lip in vexation. “I haven’t met a man like you, Dick. None of the boys my mother is setting me up with are like. They aren’t as intelligent, hardworking, cordial. When I tell these boys I want to read and live my life, they put me down-call me insane and ill. But you don’t do those things. You just stand there and listen to me. I may not make sense since I am probably just some young immature girl who knows nothing about being a proper lady. You even give me kind words of advice. No other boy would do that. Only a man would do such a thing.” You vented, letting your words spill out like vomit.

Dick wasn’t reacting at all. At Least it wasn’t obvious. He turned his figure towards you, eyes glued as his lips puckered against each other’s. He seemed taken aback by your honesty since you were someone who was reserved, only speaking when necessary. That didn’t mean adding your opinion to one of your father’s at dinner. Dick wasn’t obvious to your “rebellious” nature. Your mother would always scold you for interrupting the men. Your father didn’t mind your info if, and so didn’t Dick. He was interested in your perspective, and would always ask for further intake since it was the gentlemen thing to do.

You looked at him and shook your head, turning to walk back. “Forget it,” You sighed as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his. Dick got a smell of your perfume, a lavender and vanilla, it was definitely expensive. He liked y/n’s armora, especially after a long day of being in a stuffy room full of whiskey and burning cigars. “You probably think I’m just a mad woman-“

Dick thought about his decision for a second. He had to think thinkly. When he made up his mind, he sped walk towards you. “Wait,” He called. He saw you turn around with your silky (y/h/c) (y/h/t) spring right behind you. He scrunched up a fist feeling a lump grow in his throat as he looked a few slow steps towards you.

“You’re not a mad woman. I think you’re wonderful to be around. I always enjoy our conversations and our midnight walks,” Dick commented. He was at a loss of words for the kiss. When you had asked, you sounded like you were begging, but hid it.

It took him a while to realize that the two’s of you had a fair amount in common. You both were soft spoken souls, friendly but quiet. You distanced yourself from large crowds and were usually confident in each other since you both had a trust. You know how eachother worked like nobody else did-a small, intimate detail that only the two of you would watch into.

“You’re also growing into a beautiful young woman each day. Being a lady doesn’t mean being all prim and proper, it means being mature, kind, and respectful to others. That’s what you are.” Dick was only a few steps away. You listened to every word he said, your hands restraining themselves from touching his chest. He could once again smell the cologne and see the moonlight shine on your eyes and hair-the gloss you wore sparkled as well.

“But I couldn’t kiss you. You’re father wouldn’t approve of it.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back. Your hands met his chest. You were so caught up in the heat of it that you didn’t realize that your hands rested on Dick’s Ivory collared shirt. Dick, however, didn’t protest at all.

You gently scrunched the fabric, “He’s not here. Just one. Before my mom tries to marry me off. Just one kiss and I won’t ask for anything else of you, Dick.”

Dick put his bigger hands onto yours as his thumb finessed the small part of your soft, [y/s/c] skin in between your index and thumb. “I…”

You gave him those eyes. They were begging. One kiss from a real man and you would be content.

Dick let out a defeated sigh, “...will. Just one. For you.”

So he did. In the moonlight, Dick Winters held you close and became your first kiss. Your lips were like a sweet treat. It felt miraculous after a long day of work. It was meant to be quick, but he was obsessed with your cushion lips and sweet lip gloss. His hands firmly rested on your lower back as his fingers scrunched with the material. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was yours, so he made sure to be gentle with you, even though he struggled. The whiff of your perfume, your shirt showing off your abdomen, the silliness of your hair. It was hard just for it to be one kiss.

Dick walked to you, your arm slung in the hole of his elbow. The two of you didn’t speak any words once you arrived back for dinner. It was a typical dinner. Your mother always made Salmon, rice, and peas on Saturdays, which occurred to be Dick’s favourite meal. Your mother raved about boys who could “tame” you, your father spoke of a new business deal in the news, you picked at the leftover peas, and Dick looked at your father with his weary king eyes, attempting to look interested in the conversation.

What kept him away in the dinner as your bare ankle, brushing against his trousers. It was a little bit distracting. Thank god he was a good pretender. It felt so wrong to be doing this, yet so right. You were unlike a lot of women Dick had met. You always caught his attention, watching you each day as you grow into a young, educated woman.

To tame your foot, Dick wrapped his ankle around yours, tenderly holding it down until the meal was over. After dinner was over, Dick wished your family a goodnight.. He gave your mother who adored him a kiss on the cheek, your father a firm handshake, and you apart on the shoulder. His fingers struggled on your bare shoulder for what seemed like forever, brushing against the edge of your neck.

And with that, Dick was gone into the night. You headed to bed and changed, not washing your lips. You had a smile on your face as you twisted and turned. It was a one time occurance, but it felt like your fantasy had come to life.

But before you knew it, it would all be over. Dick would be back on Tuesday, and the two of you would act like nothing had ever happened.

But what Dick and you didn’t know is that it wouldn't be the first time of hushed kisses, lingering fingers, and limbs grazing passionately against each other.

————

The US had entered the war overseas. Most of the boys in your class were putting a pause on their lives to go fight in Africa, The Pacific, or Europe. Anybody who was over the age of eighteen was required to draft, so town was a shit show of crying mothers, lanky boys who could possibly never come home, and military trucks. You wanted to apply to be a combat nurse, but you weren’t of the age requirement.

Dick was going to war.

Ever since the night at the lake, you and Dick kept a closted relationship. He still came over in the Summers. Some days you wouldn’t even see him. But the small moments you had together, whether that be watching the twinkling stars on your walk on the lake hand in hand or cuddled reading books on a rainy day in your isolated greenhouse porch, mattered so much. If you had a bad day, he'd sit there and listen. He wouldn’t judge or give any advice. You didn’t know if he understood your struggles, but it made you happy to know that someone would sit there and listen. For comfort, he would take the book out of your hands and bookmark it, slide off your dangling flats, and pull you into his chest.

Dick’s language of romance wasn’t grand or romantic. Although reticent, his tranquil actions were nothing but idyllic. It was the little things that counted, whether it was fresh perennial’s picked from the field or even a hug. Your relationship didn’t have to be based on gifts and what others thought of you. It was the little things that counted.

The night before he was drafted, Dick invited your family over to his farm. It was at the edge of town and down a long dirt road, leading to a little white house and large red barn. It was picturesque, a cornfield and trees for miles on end. There was no constant chatter, horns blaring, or pressure-it was just quiet.

When your parents and Dick’s parents were distracted in conversation, Dick requested to take a walk with you. As much as you enjoyed talking to the bubbly Anne, you needed a small escape. You followed Dick to the back of his tiny kitchen. Being the gentleman he was, he held the door open and let you walk ahead of him. The only noise that could be heard were the chirps of crickets and the wind gently blowing. You held a hand down on a dress your mother forced you to wear. It was a Jade summer frock, but Dick had complimented you. So it made the frock somewhat bearable.

The two of you walked in his backyard. You had no clue where he was leading you. You turned to Dick to ask. He didn’t respond with words. His fingers edged on your as you unruled your fingers, letting his hand sink into yours. His hands were worked, and you felt awful so you gently caressed the upper skin with your thumb.

“Where are we going?” You questioned as you looked left and right, clinging onto the shawl that hung from your shoulders.

Dick looked down at you. He had a subtle smile on his lips as he looked down at you. All of the anxiety he had felt about being drafted, work, and the war faded away when he looked at you. Dick didn’t need to kiss you to know that you loved him; he could tell from the gentle look of your stunning (y/e/c) eyes. He watched you look into the never ending field ahead of you, the wind blowing loose strands of your updo. You wore a little bit of makeup. It was always subtle. He knew you hated wearing makeup and did you want to do it to look “presentable”. Dick didn’t care what you looked like, whether it be in overalls or a dress, he was infatuated with you.

He should have known from day one that y/n, the mischievous daughter of his Economics professor, had been yearning for him. He attempted to get lost in the papers and speeches of your father in his regal office with the shades closed and the whiff of smoke, earth paper, and Whiskey. Even when he was trapped in the office, you were still on his mind with your elegant perfume and book in hand.

“Here.” He announced, overlooking the cornfield. The colossal, green plants waved in the wind, in front of a hazy smoky dull sunset. You didn’t respond and simply looked into the sunset, slowly watching the shining sun set into the ground. “The cornfields, they remind me of you.”

A smirk curved on your gloss lips as you squeezed his bigger, worked hand with your tinier one. “Is that so?”

“They're wild. No matter the season, they are always growing. They're not the easiest plant to manage, there...unruly.” Dick explained, still a gentle smile on his tringale face.

“Are you comparing me to a bunch of crops?” You teased as your head landed on his shoulder. “Not a lot of women find that very romantic.”

Dick leaned his head on top of yours as he, your thighs brushing against each other.

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” You broke the silence.

Dick didn’t move and had an eerie stoic expression. He tightened his grip on your hand before looking down to let out a soft sigh.

The sun didn’t shine anymore, the corn had stopped moving in the wind, and the stars didn’t sprinkle. You felt your stomach drop as goose bumps appeared on your exposed arms and legs. You froze and looked down at the grass, seeing your feet nestled right next to Dick’s.

The possibility that this could be the last time you saw Dick, held him, read with him, and kissed him haunted you. As a child, you had made it official that love was off the table. But when the giant gentle with red hair and mint eyes waltzed into your kitchen on that fateful night, your world had been turned upside down. Trying to be logical, you could live if Dick died. He was far too old to marry you, and most likely showed no interest. You could've been just a pretty face for him to silently hold before acting like you never shared tender moments in the moonlight. If he died, you would move on, marry someone your mother chose out for you, and start a mundane life of cooking, folding laundry, and having children.

But emotionally, if Dick didn’t come back to Lancaster, something would be missing from your life. Something important.

“I can’t promise anything. You know that, sweetheart.” Dick cautioned you, whispering into your hair. At Least he was being honest-better than sugar coating a sensitive subject. He tried to make you look at him, but you refused. You were being stubborn, pushing away the emotions and trying to think logically. But in all honesty, it was catching up to you know. Tears stung at your eyes as your mouth quivered.

“I know, you don’t have to tell me, ” You sniffled, “I’m not an idiot. I prefer it if you be straightforward with me.” Dick looked at you with his thin eyebrows knit together and narrowed eyes. After sharing such a kind moment, he most likely wouldn't wanna break news that would tear your heart to pieces.

You preferred if he’d just spit out the words and get it over with. Make it easier for both of you to handle.

He moved on his hands to your cheek to wipe the incoming tears, but you refused. You turned your head and swiped the tears with your shaky palm, red lipstick and mascara staining your skin.

You scoffed in frustration, “Just say you want me to break up with me. It’s for the better. I’ll go to school, you go to war. We act like nothing ever happened. For the greater good. It was fun while it lasted..But I...nevermind.” You looked down at the ground, refusing to look at Dick. One glance and the next thing you would know, tears would be streaming down your face as you ran into the night.

Dick turned and followed after you as your footsteps increased with a few mumbled sniffles. “That’s not what I wanted to say-”

A pained sob escaped your mouth as you walked forward, a red face with tears streaming down your cheek. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Please, for the better of us. It’s better to use your mind over your heart and not worry about some young, naive girl who had a crush on her father’s best student!”

“Y/n...”

You continued to walk forward and ignore Dick’s pleas, but your stomping slowed down.

“Y/n...”

Dick was creeping up behind your. Your speed walking slowly turned into slow, sluggish steps. Tears streamed down your face as your hands slung at your sides. Dick was now right behind you, watching you as you sniffled. You slowly turned your head to look at him with mascara running down your face.

“Oh, Sweetheart..” Dick softly sighed. Your whole body turned around as you fell into his arms, letting out a loud sob. Small sniffles turned into wails as you cried into his chest, staining the ivory collared shirt. He stroked your hair as he ran reassuring circles on your back. He wanted you to get all of those pestering emotions out. After a few minutes of sobbing and Dick comfortingly holding you close, he broke the silence.

“That’s not why I brought you here,” Dick cooed into your hair as he traced mindless figures into your lower back.

You looked up with your big (e/y/c) orbs, letting out a little sniffle. He had a soft smile on his face as he wiped a stray hair from your face, slowly tucking it behind your hair. “Then...why did you bring me here..?”

“This cornfield holds a special place in my heart. I come here a lot. It’s peaceful, but lonely.” Dick explained as he grabbed your hand, holding your tiny one in his own. He looked down at you, “After working with your father, I’d come home and run here. I’d stop midway to look at the wind and the way it moved the corn. It was so relaxing, so that’s why I brought you here.”

“To not feel lonely?”

“Yes. I felt alone, until I met you.” He admired, “I was surrounded by people, but I still felt alone. But when I spent time with you, I didn’t feel alone at all. It was a highlight to see you, even if it was sitting across from each other at a table or seeing you, laying on the porch. I looked at you and I got happy.”

“Dick, I…” You were speechless. His words wanted your heart, but his message baffled you. “Appreciate your kindness, but what do you mean?”

The gentle strawberry blonde held your hand. He didn’t hold it tight, but used both his hands to hold them up. He slowly backed up and lowered himself on one knee. From the books you had read, you knew what this way. Initiatively, you would’ve said no and ran away. But Dick had courted you with his gentle hold, reassuring words, and sheer presence.

“I couldn’t keep it any longer. I know there’s a chance that this will be the last time you see me for a while or at all. I said I couldn’t promise anything, but I..can’t hide it. I love you, y/n. I don’t care if you want to start school and make your own money, I don’t care if you wear pants, I don’t care what you do. I care about your happiness. I want you to live a long and happy life. You’re the most beautiful and intelligent woman I have ever met. I understand you’re young, and you can turn this down if it’s too much. Dick announced as he pulled a velvet box from the back of his pants, he opened the box to reveal a golden Celtic band. You put a hand on your mouth in joyous disabelif. “I want to be with you, but only if you want to be with me. You’d never be alone...Will you marry me, y/n?”

“Dick, this is…” You chuckled in disbelief. One minute you were crying, now you were laughing. Dick in one hand held a beautiful ring, and the other hand your delicate hand. “Wonderful. But my parents...they…”

“I talked to your father. He said pick out a white dress you want.” Dick replied. “You’re mother cried. I thought she was upset, but she was beyond happy. She told me she knew you had an eye on me since I started coming over for dinner. They approved...but if you don’t want this, I understand. I just couldn’t hold it in, even if I don’t come ba-“

“Yes, Yes, yes, yes, yes…” Your words started low, but then turned to loud cheers. You squealed, nodding enthusiastically. “I will, Dick. I’ll marry you. I don’t care. If something does happen, I'll be happy knowing that I’m yours. Even if you don’t…” the three lettered words struggled to come out your mouth. It was such a rough word. Unable to bring yourself to say it, you chose to leave your pessimistic side for something more optimistic. “I won’t be alone, even if you’re in Europe, The Pacific, wherever. I’ll just know you’re here, in my heart and dreams.”

It turned out that this whole dinner was a setup by your family and the Winters. It just had to be Anne Winters that she found about your relationship with Winters. Being sixteen and sassy, she casually shrugged it off and stated that “Dick was a horrible liar”. It should have been obvious with Dick’s favourite meal, the fact that you were placed right next to time, Anne’s teasing, and your mother pestering for you to look presentable. It all made sense now.

But there was one ball in the air-the ceremony. Dick would be leaving for Toccoa the next day, the afternoon. Your parents wanted a big ceremony for the morning. The Winters didn’t care-they just wanted the two of you to be happy considering that Dick was going to be away for a long time or forever.

You and Dick had to come to an agreement. You announced at the end of dessert that you would wait to be married until Dick came back from the war.

Obviously, this caused a bit of uproar. But with Dick leaving tomorrow, they chose not to make a big deal of it. As long as you and Dick were happy, your families could be nothing but be happy for you. Even if it was a short amount of time.

After the storm that settled, you and Dick had left his house. You hopped in his truck and drove to the local chapel Dick had attended with his family every Sunday. In the middle of the night, the two of you eloped. He made sure to pull over and pick out a group of Perennials, all kinds of your favorites. You even stuffed some into your messy updo which had turned into a half updo.

After your quiet ceremony, the two of you drove back to your estate. There, the two of you spent your first, and poetically final, night together in your childhood bedroom; making love, cuddling, and cherishing every moment you shared with each other.

The variety of perennials’s Dick had picked out were placed into a blue and white ginger jar. It was meant to be a memory of Dick. He wouldn’t be there psychically, but spiritually, he would be right there.

Dick was surprised to learn that you weren’t a virgin. He was raised a Mennonite, waiting for marriage. You, being a curious young woman, had experimented. It was once, and an unpleasant experience. Before, you had felt indifferent about sex. It was something that women were meant to desire. You were told to be a virgin and wait for a man to take control of you. Hating those words, you chose to do the opposite. Nobody knew of your little secret, besides Dick-your husband.

Dick was nothing like the boy you had lost your virginity to. Unlike that boy, he was a man. Not because he was masculine and tough, but because he treated you like his equal. He never treated you any differently from your father. Dick had morals and integrity, he was compassionate, quiet but polite, open-minded, and used his brain and heart. That was what you defined a real man as.

Dick treated you like you were made of glass. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. He didn’t care about his feelings, he only cared about yours. He wanted to make sure that you were enjoying yourself. You aided him in some areas, but the two of you were on a ride after a rocky start. Dick always asked how you were doing, if you wanted him to stop, go slower, or if you needed to break. He left sloppy kisses all over your body and had his hands wrapped around you like a young child with a bear. Dick didn’t let go of you once.

That night, the two of you held each other close as you chatted for hours on end. That was what you had looked forward to, not the sex. Sex was still a big piece in your marriage, but it wasn’t the most important. You looked forward to the long and mindless conversations the two of you had. Dick held you in his warm arms, toned and muscles from the workout’s he did year round. He would hold you close to his body as the two of you discussed life after the war.

It didn’t matter what the future held. If Dick was gone for one year, ten years, or forever. What mattered was the two of you had each other in your little moment of peace before all hell would break loose.

You and Dick had chatted the whole night away. The next thing you knew, you would go from the bedroom to the train station. It was a moment you dreaded, but it had to be done. Dick once again had a stoic expression. He kissed his mother, your mother, and sister, shook his father's and your father’s hand, and gave you a long sweet kiss on the lips. Dick struggled to pull away, but he knew it was for the best. Before climbing onto the train, he promised to write to you at every opportunity he got and tell you about Europe, the war, and anything he desired to tell you.

The next thing you knew, you were alone again.

When you arrived home, you kicked off your shoes and walked up the stairs. Your mother asked if you were okay, to which you silently nodded your head. Your father had noticed your unusual silence. He had offered to take you shopping, thinking that money would make you happy. All you did was politely decline and retreat to your bedroom.

Your room was stuck in time. The sheets were all over the floor and Dick’s tall figure that had been imprinted on the left side of your bed. The dress your mother forced you to wear laid on the floor, along with your flats and pearls.

The sun shined through the curtains as you crawled onto the side where Dick had laid. You closed your eyes and sunk into his pillow, holding onto the disappearing scent of your husband.

On Top of the books, you had been reading were the perennials; lavender, daylilies, and stonecrops. You looked up from the pillow, your nose buried into the pillow and a blanket loosely covering your legs.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel that so alone anymore.

———

One year turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into four. You kept the calendar’s from over the years in your room, neatly stored under your bed. You found it funny how time flew by. You could remember the first day of walking in your classroom and the day you walked off the podium with your diploma. The pretty perennials that Dick had given you from what seemed like a decade ago had died. They were withered and derived of the bright colors they once had, hanging on the side of the blue and white ginger jar. The perennials reminded you of yourself. Once you had been a fiery young girl, and now you were an exhausted graduate student who was bound to become a widow.

Around the time you had found work at Lancaster, BBC announced that the war was over in Europe. That should have phased you and made you jump up with glee, but in all reality, it didn’t. The optimistic side you once had was long gone, turning into a pessimistic bitterness. The war was over in Europe, but not in The Pacific. Dick still wouldn’t be coming home, and you learned to accept that.

Sure, he had sent you letters in the beginning. Lots of them. He would talk about his adventures in training, his dreadful drill sergeant, his friend who was a “one of those city folk”, and so many more things. He expressed his boyish pride in being a patriot for his country. His little letters used to make your day. But as the leaves fell from the trees and the years passed, his letters would slow down. The last one you had received in January, written in December. It was short and sweet. The letter rested in your drawer. As the days passed on, a small part of you broke. You had been married for five years, yet you felt like you weren’t even married. No Dick kissing you, holding you in your arms, or comforting you in your darkest moments.

When the flowers had slowly withered, so did your hope.

But that all changed on a warm September day. Your mother had called you from your room, not specifying what was awaiting for you at the door. You grumbled and got up, taking off your glasses as you walked down the stairs, expecting to see another colleague trying to woo you.

You didn’t expect to see a tall man with a soft smile, strawberry hair, and a neat military uniform. Your husband-Dick Winters.

It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You dropped everything, running right into his arms. You buried your face in his chest as he pulled you in close, his worked hands resting on your lower back and hair. He smelt amazing, and his uniform was soft. You missed his tender touch and soft words. It had been forever since you had seen him. In that moment, nothing mattered. No words needed to be spoken. In all honesty, you never wanted or needed pity from others. You just wanted someone-Dick-to be close. You thought of yourself as a coward, but all you wanted to feel was alright.

“Sweetheart, I missed you. I’m so sorry,” He apologized, stroking your embrace. His voice was stoic, as usual. It really was Dick. He was home and in your arms, at last.

“Don’t. Just stay. Please.” You softly cooed into his chest. No, you couldn’t let go now.

Dick let out a soft chuckle and stayed in the embrace. War was a strange beast. It stripped families of their children and caused mass discussion. Dick thought he wouldn’t come home and see his wife who had married the night before he was drafted. As the years had gone by, Dick began to regret his choice. What if he had left you a widow?

But that was the past. It was gone-nothing to waste tears on. In your extended embrace, the future didn’t matter, it wasn’t worth stressing. Dick and you lived in the present moment and made it beautiful.

-----------

Nothing had changed after Dick had come home. Life was still the same, except you weren’t as alone. Dick was still his stoic self. He was a doting husband. You expected him to struggle when he returned to civilian life. He wasn't used to homemade dinners and a bed much-the flashes of exploding limbs and artillery flashing through his eyes. Both you and Dick were independent. It wasn’t a bad thing. You could spend hours reading as he did a puzzle in another. On some days, the two of you would do activities together. You’d lay your head in his lap as he’d did his puzzle. On other days, Dick would be needier. Originally, he wasn’t vocal about it. It took you a while to catch onto it. He held your hand more in public, pulled you closer as you slept, and whenever he was in a mood-he’d come right to you and just give you a look. You knew the look all too well-and knew how to cure it. Dick would wrap his arms as you snuggled into his chest and talk about anything your minds came to. Sometimes you’d talk, but other times the two of you would close yours and fall asleep. Dick wouldn’t have any nightmares if held you close for comfort.

Without you, Dick didn’t know what he would do. How he could return to the simplicity of life.

Somehow, he returned. And every day he made sure to thank you for making him feel like a human and not a machine-whether that be through a gentle peck, a cuddle, or even a literal “thank you”. He loved you more than anything in the world.

----------

Shortly after Dick returned, the two of you moved out to New Jersey. His “city-boy” friend (his name was Lewis Nixon, but Dick called him Lew) had offered him a job at his parent’s nutrition company. So off the two of you drove from Lancaster to the suburbs of Haddonfield. Haddonfield and Lancester were virtually the same; small country bumpkin towns isolated from the big cities.

You and Dick had bought your first house (which was given by Nixon was a “late honeymoon gift). It was a small colonial house in a tiny suburb, pristine white with red doors. The decorations in the house were limited, a few photos of your and his family with elegant furniture gifted from your parents. It was a little big for your liking. It was a nice gift, but in Nixon’s words, it was for the “incoming armada of redheads”.

Babies. Children. Of your kin.

Dick had mentioned having children. When he was still adjusting, he’d hold you close as he talked about his plans for the future. Buy a farm in Pennsylvania, build his own business, and start a family of his own. He had told you that anywhere you would go, he would go. Anything you wanted, he wanted. He was about thirty two and you were close to turning twenty-five. It was expected at your age to have young children, but with no husband around and a job, it was difficult to settle down. You would gulp and smile, looking down as you held his hand.

Dick didn’t want to pressure you. He knew that were siginactiatly younger. Times were changing, you had a job and life of your own. He never wanted to interfere with it. When you would get insecure about not being the “ideal wife”, he’d reassure you that you were his wife and didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want. Dick wasn’t a man who put fear into others to get what he wanted. He was a patient and gentle soul.

You had tried a few times here and there. As much as you tried to enjoy something that was pleasurable, it was painful. You hid it from Dick, but Dick wasn’t an idiot. Dick wanted you to enjoy it. You could his mint eyes, hungry yet soft, as he laid on top of you, both of your hands restricted as you did the deed.

You weren’t making any noises, looking to the side. Something was wrong, you knew it. But you couldn’t break it to Dick. How would he react?

Dick catched onto his. He pulled himself together and pulled out. You looked at him and gave him a stubble style as he scooted closer to you, his breath heavy and gelled hair a mess.

“Hey,” You smiled awkwardly, clenching at the sheets.

Dick looked at you, a smile curving as his lips as his hand caressed your cheek. “How is my wife doing?”

It was a private nickname. He called you it after the war, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. Sometimes it was “my little wife”, which could be sweet or driven by lust. The little nickname made your heart skip a beat. You were proud to be his.

“Good. I’m tired,” You yawned as you held his hand close, playing with his big fingers.

Dick looked at your face as he admired your natural beauty, a pearly smile, your hair loose on the pillow, and your figure covered by a thin sheet. His hand moved from your cheek, your nape, and eventually your stomach. He drew slow, soft circles around your tummy.

“My little wife with our baby,” Dick remarked, his fingers dancing across your bare skin. Any girl would’ve fallen head over heels if a man had said that. You should have been happy, you wanted a family.

But how could you tell him?

There was a long silence between the two of you. All you did was look into his mint orbs, stroking his hair out of his face.

“I hope he, or she, looks like you. So they get their mother’s beauty.” Dick looked down at your stomach and planted a kiss.

You gulped, thinking of a response. A pretty white lie. “And there’s dad’s redhead and kindness. If you’re a little guy, I’ll tell you that it’s hard to find a man like your day.”

“And it’s hard to find a woman like your mother. She’s a firecracker,” Dick jabbed as he playfully ruffled his hair.

“Dick…” Your words were low as you held back a sob. You plastered a smile, it hurt to lie. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl. I don’t even know if I have a baby there…”

“Well…” Dick laid his head on your stomach, gently finessing the skin under your breast. “If It was a girl, what would her name be?”

You hated the feeling-naming a baby that wasn’t in your stomach. Dick believed that you were pregnant, or at least he believed you were. In response, you bit your lips-looking like you were deep in thought.

“Margaret,” You announced, “Molly for short. After my grandmother, in her memory.”

Dick tilted his head up and nodded, “For your grandma,” He planted another kiss and rested his head once again, “A boy?”

“Lewis? You like that fellow a lot.”

Dick shook his head, “No. I can’t look at him and our child the same way.”

You let out a chuckle before shaking your head. An image of a little baby flashed between your eyes. Mint eyes, dimples, and soft red hair. You wished it would occur.

“I can’t think of a name. You?”

Dick was silent for a minute as he laid on your stomach, your fingers entangled in his locks.

“Thomas. His name could be Thomas,” Dick proposed.

“Why is that?” You questioned.

Dick let out a sigh before crawling up to you, pulling you into his arms,“He was a C.O, to replace Sobel. I didn’t know him for long since his plane was hit. He’s listed as missing in action...but,” He froze on the words, unable to say it. You looked up at him Dick, who looked to the side with guilt tugging at his heart. You planted a kiss on his chin.

“He was twenty-two years old, just married. He sent a letter out to his wife to tell her that he was coming home. She still believes he’s out there, lost in some forest, finding his way home..” Dick looked down at you. Just like Meehan, he had been freshly married, sending out a letter. While Dick had kept his short and sweet (he didn’t want to promise anything), Meehan was too big for his britches. He didn’t show his fear, confidence in the face of adversity.

“Okay, Thomas it is. I like that name” You expressed.

Dick saw your face glow up, and so did his. He smiled, nodding along. “Thomas and Margaret,” He looked at your stomach once more, running his hand across your flat stomach. “I like that too.”

You nuzzled into his chest as he planted little kisses on the nape of your neck, holding you close for warmth. The two of you remained there, the only noise being your breathing.

Pulling your head back, Dick moved his hands down to your lower back to pull you up, closer to his face. “Y/n?”

“Yes, Dick?” You looked into his mint eyes, the candle in the room glittering in his orbs.

Dick held your cheek as he admired your face, “I love you, my little wife.”

You looked down before looking at your husband, moving slowly up to his face.

“And I love you two, my big husband.”

Maybe time stopped when Dick’s lips had met yours, but the flutter only intensified. Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees went numb. You could only focus on how soft Dick felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all of your senses.

It wasn’t clear if you had dreamed this all, but the raw emotion in the way Dick’s fingers curled against yours. Dick kept his eyes open, sneaking a guilt peak every time you took a breath for air, just to make sure you weren’t a product of his imagination.

You weren’t sure if nature rooted for this moment, but it distracted you from everything. You just laid there with Dick, draped each other's arms as you sloppily kissed. Dick pulled you in once again, gently placing his lips onto yours until your knees had once again gone numb, overpowered by his. His other hand rested on your stomach as he murmured Margaret and Thomas, talking about how excellent of a mother you would be to your babies.

By the time you became aware of this, you froze, letting Dick kiss your body. You looked at the ceiling, hands in his hair as he decorated your skin.

It was like a car had run into you, throwing you down to the side-a rude awakening. As much as you denied it, it was creeping up on you.

There was no Thomas. There was no Magaret. There was never going to be a Thomas or Margaret.

Your stomach was flat, nothing moved. There was no life in your stomach ever. No matter how many times you tried, wished, prayed, there was only one conclusion.

There would never be a son or a daughter in your stomach-ever.

From that point on, life was slow. You woke up, gave Dick a kiss goodbye, worked from home, cooked dinner, read with Dick, fell asleep at an ungodly hour, and repeated the mundae routine everyday. With Dick being a general manager, he would work late hours. At some points, the only time you would see him is late at night when he’d crawl into bed giving you a kiss or early in the morning. Still, in his weary and stressed state, he’d always kiss your stomach every night and morning.

With your irregular cycles, constant negative tests, and pelvic pain becoming more evident in your marriage, you decided it was best to see your Doctor. As much as you didn’t want to know the possibility of what could be wrong, at least you would have an idea of what it was and how to make it better.

It turned out you couldn’t make your problem better. The doctor had a sympathetic look in your eyes as he listed off possibilities. You just sat there and looked at your stomach; your cold hands pressing against your stomach.

You were infertile.

There was never a Margaret growing in your stomach, nor was there a Thomas. There was nothing in your stomach.

How the hell were you going to tell your doting husband this?

---------

It was another Friday night in September. The leaves fell from the trees, the radio softly played in the back, it was peaceful in your little white house. Dick still hadn’t come home yet. You attempted to act like everything was normal as you put on a nice dress, pearls, and a fake pearly smile. It was all fine.

Nothing was fine.

You stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the haunting abyss. This feeling of dread and tightness became background noise as if it were traffic on an unseen road. There were times where you could handle it, and times where you could not. This was a day where you couldn’t handle it. Each day passed, and the more you repressed it-it hurt. It hurt even more than it was supposed to.

You were faced with a dead-end, a terrifying one, with thoughts of temptation and contemplation. You felt even lost in your own home and marriage, feeling helpless and scared. This wasn’t supposed to happen. In the partial society you lived in, a woman’s identity revolved around the ability to convenience. As a girl, you laughed it off, saying you’d do what you’d please. But you were no longer a fiery girl, but a broken and bitter woman. Bitter at the world for forcing the idea that women were baby machines. You, as you typically did, pushed it away.

Stuffed it into a closet, but it was now pouring out. All the baggage that you had repressed was right in front of you. You never felt like you belonged in the parthricaral society you lived in with their white picket fences and predictable lifestyles. That didn’t mean you didn’t want a family of your own. You had a husband, a job, a house, everything seemed perfect. But one thing was missing-a baby.

The older you had gotten, the more it affected you. Going to those parties for Dick’s job and seeing all the wives with their babies and fumbling toddlers. You didn’t feel anything towards them at first, but they eventually grew on you. Dick’s first few days home contained long conversations about what your lives would be after the way. You would chat with him for hours about it to distract from the nightmares that flooded his mind, holding his hand.

“A nice little farm near Lancaster, one or two kids, my own business, and the most important thing...you ” Dick would say, his words full of love. “My wonderful little wife, Margaret, Thomas, and me, on our farm. We’ll have each other.”

The kettle boiled in the water, the loud noise screeching in the kitchen. You dropped the knife and heard it clack onto the ground. All you did was stand there with wide eyes and shaky legs, looking down at the ground as your nails dug into the counter.

You couldn’t bear him children-you tried and tried and tried but to no avail. If you were not Dick’s, then what were you?

---------

Dick had taken off his trench coat, sliding his shoes off as he neatly put them right next to yours. He let out a sigh as he loosened his tie. Work had been stressful once again. All he could think about was seeing you and his growing little babies. Of course, he never told anybody. But knowing the thought was between you and him made it special-something so personal and beautiful. He couldn’t wait to see your face and hold you close, talking for hours on end. Anything you said or did made him head over heels, just like it had done to you five years ago. You had been distant and not your usual self, and Dick was worried. He knew of the insecurities you had, feeling like you never had fit into a certain mold.

He had walked into the kitchen and instead of finding you, he found a dropped knife and kettle that was overflowing with boiling water. It looked like you had left in a hurry. He made sure to check all of the doors to see if you had left, in which you had no. In a calm manner, Dick cleaned up the kettle and put the knife back where it was. He wanted to help so you wouldn’t stress.

The pitter-patter of the shower coming from upstairs alerted Dick. He walked up the stairs and down the dark hallway, seeing the bathroom light creak from the bathroom. Creaking the door open, the all to familiar noise hit his ears. The bathroom was foggy as the shower ran. Looking down, Dick saw the water come to his feet, staining his wet socks. Your flats were spread on the ground along with your knit cardigan, soggy from the water. Inside of the shower was you, clothed with your makeup running, hugging your knees as you looked down.

Dick let out a soft sigh as he looked at you, his shoulder slouching down. It was paining him to see you in this state, “Oh honey..”

You didn’t move, only your eyes did. He walked towards you, into the shower. He wore a white suit and dress pants, which were now we're stuck to his skin. He put himself right next to you as the hot water warmed his cold skin. You adjusted yourself to lean on his wet shoulder. Dick said there as you leaned on him for comfort, listening to the white noise of the shower.

“I tried,” You mumbled as your fingers ran circles in his arm.

Dick looked down at you with his strawberry hair sticking to his forehead and drips of water rushing down his face. He frowned, tiping his head to the side.

“I tried and tried, time after time. I tried so hard and I…” You lamented, grasping onto Dick’s arm. It was hard to spit out the words. You had already said the first half of it, you needed to say more. “I just can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do what?” Dick questioned, his fingers lifting your chin. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your mascara coming down along with it. His thumb wiped away the incoming hot tears. He was too kind to you. His mere presence reassured you. “Don’t cry, my little wife. Let me help you. Whatever it is, whatever you need, I-”

“I can’t have children. Not now, or ever.” The words came out your mouth. It felt like you were spitting fire. It felt strange like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Even though it was gone, it still lingered. “I went to the doctor last week. I’m infertile, Dick.”

Dick just sat with a frown on his face. You couldn’t tell what was going through his head. His free arm had wrapped around your shoulder was slowly falling as he let go of your chin, making an “oh” noise.

You looked at him and let out a sob as your face fell into your hands. “I didn’t wanna tell you. I know you’ve wanted children, every man wants that for their wife. You want a son who looks like you, and a wife who can provide that for you. I can’t. I wanted it too, but I watched my dream break. I’m supposed to give you a baby like a normal wife should...” Through the sniffling and sobs, you refused to look at Dick. He seemed disappointed, but you could never tell what he was feeling. “If you want a wife who can give you a child, then, by all means, do so. I’m worthless.”

You could feel it. Your relationship was over. Maybe it was for the better. Dick could start his family, and you could work a job in Philadelphia. They did have an opening in Philadelphia. It was better to have nobody-so you couldn’t get hurt and hurt others around you.

“No,”

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you turned to Dick. You scooted back, not able to tell if he was upset at you. “No?”

“No. You’re not worthless, y/n.” Dick attested, “What would make you think such a thing?”

“We’ve always wanted a family down the line. You would kiss my stomach every night, talking to the...” You looked down at your flat stomach, your hand gently squeezing the skin. It broke your heart even more just feeling what Dick assumed was Margaret and Thomas. “Just didn’t want you to get mad at me. I know you're upset with me.”

“Don’t give me that malarkey,” He growled, crawled closer to you as he grabbed your cheeks with your foreheads nuzzling towards each other. You could feel the warmth on the top of your forehead, “I’m not upset. You didn’t have to hide this from me. I should’ve known, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

Dick tenderly grabbed your shoulders and leaned you back on the white subway wall. He was gentle as he wiped the sticky hair from your face for a clearer view. He had a soft smile as he caressed your cheek with you leaning into it.

“But if I can’t give you children, what good use am I?”

“The reason I married you wasn’t that I wanted a family. At that moment, in that cornfield, I wanted you to be my wife. If I didn’t tell you, I don’t know if I would’ve died content with my life,” Dick complimented with a kiss to your wet hand. “You're not just a pawn used for children-my little wife. Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean I won’t leave you. I wouldn’t even consider the thought. It’d be hard to find someone like you, y/n. Nobody as hardworking, beautiful, and fiery”

A chuckle escaped your lips, “Like a cornfield?”

“Like a cornfield,” He assured. “I don’t care about children, the past, the future, anything. I married you because I was in love with the beautiful, growing woman five years ago, and I still am. All I care about is my little wife, y/n-you. I love you.”

You nuzzled into his shoulder, “I..love you too, Dick.”

Silent communication was your and Dick’s form of romance. You didn’t need big gestures and materialistic gifts to feel comforted, sometimes you just needed someone right next to you, or in your arms. The silence was nice and the warmth was needed. Dick’s warmth felt like a little touch of heaven, warm, together, cozy. You wished that you could extend the night just so you could stay in his comforting embrace, relived in his hold. In his hold, you believed that there is nothing to fear, that there is all sunshine and love. Dick was the cure you needed, a lone star in an otherwise empty sky, he was the morningstar that you prayed wouldn’t disappear.

“I’ll make us dinner,” Dick said as he got up. “I’ll even run you a bath. Does that sound good, my little wife?”

Your fingers held the tip of his hands. Your (y/c/e)‘s met with his mint ones that shined in the pristine light. He gently helped you up with a hand resting on your waist.

Resting a hand on his chin, you looked down and shook your head. “I want to make dinner with you. I feel clean.”

“Are you sure?” Dick questioned, pulling you closer to his body. “I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Well I’m not tired. I haven’t felt like we’ve talked lately. You’ve been gone and I’ve been distant.” You confessed. The brutally honest was needed now. You tipped your head to look at Dick. “I wouldn’t mind a helping hand.”

“Fine, if you insist,” He placed his hand on your upper back and swept you off your fear. You let out a little chuckle as you snaked an arm around his shoulder for stability, “You said you needed a helping hand.”

Once you and Dick changed out of your wet clothes and into your matching silk robes (gifted by Lew, the man even had your initials engraved into the pocket), the two of you headed down to the kitchen to cook. The radio played in the back and the kettle silently brewed as you sautéed the chicken and Dick set the small table in the tiny dining space.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You looked behind you as you washed your hands of the greasy oils and spices.

“Did you grow up with dogs?”

You nodded as you dried your hands, “Two-a Westie and Cairn terrier. Your point?”

Dick came over the counter as he leaned on it with a smirk. It wasn’t condescending, but it looked like an idea had popped in his head. You loved it when he smirked or smiled; the dimples on his cheeks would show.

“I know you get lonely when I’m not around. Lew knows a lot of good breeders in the area. How do two dogs sound?”

You were lonely. Loneliness was a feeling you knew all too well. It haunted you as a child and adult. Except when you were a child, you thought it would disappear. But in truth, it did not.

“Two dogs sound nice, Dick,” You confessed. The kettle began to make a shrieking noise. Walking over, you grabbed two cups and poured hot water into them. The water from clear to a darkish brown. You let the bags settle for a few minutes before taking the two cups over and handing one to your strawberry blonde husband.

“There breed? Are we sure Lew won’t try and steal them?”

“Well, Lew wouldn’t steal them. He and Grace already have enough animals to take care of,” Dick put his two big hands around the mug. “Two terriers, a boy, and girl. Just like the ones you grew up with.”

“Ok,” You smiled, raising your eyebrows. “And their names?”

Dick took a sip of his tea before smacking his thin lips. “I was thinking of Margaret and Thomas. Do you like that?”

You finally knew the answer to why Dick was asking about getting dogs. Not that you were in protest. Dogs were like children-just easier to take care of.

“Yeah, I like that a lot.”

Dick put a hand over yours, giving it a reassuring squeezed. He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

Within the week, Lew had come over with the cutest puppies you had ever seen. He had also brought over all of the necessary supplies for two puppies, and even two sweaters with their names. One was a feisty and quiet Westie named Thomas and the other was a sweetheart with a sour side named Margaret. You and Dick loved them more than anything in the world. They were fed Filet Mignon from the table, slept in between you and Dick, and always for what they wanted. Even Dick gave into their puppy eyes whenever they got into trouble. The reason he wanted dogs in the first place was for his little wife; y/n-you. Not only did he want to make you feel a little less lonely in your little colonial house, but protected. Dick wasn’t always there to look out for you, even though he knew you could handle yourself just fine. Still, it was the thought that counted. Knowing that you would have two little balls of energy to keep you entertained made Dick content, and so did you.

Lewis Nixon was right all along. He never saw you and Dick having children. In his wise words, dogs were “far superior” than children. Dogs didn’t cry as much, they weren’t as needy, and they didn’t wake you up in the middle of the night. Mostly.

You would see the way the dogs would interact with Dick, and how Dick would interact with them. He’d treat them like children. From rocking Margaret in his arms to having long conversations with Thomas about why he shouldn’t bite you his mother while you peacefully sleep, it made your heart skip a beat, seeing Dick be so gentle with the two puppies.

Every night before you would head to bed, Dick would always remind you that his dream had finally come true; buying the little patch of land in Lancaster for the farm was within reach. He’d give you a kiss and pull you close as the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

You broke away from the terrifying cliff that you had looked down, heading towards your morning star, Dick, with hope that it wouldn’t disappear.

#dick winters x reader #richard winters x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #richard winters imagine #my writing #oh gosh this is painful #also listen to wife by mitski #y'know if u wanna even cry harder #all aborad the angst train #*sad choo choo*

109 notes · View notes