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vivalabunbun · 1 year

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Midnight Piano Interlude in D Minor, Op. 1

Summary: Growing pains don’t go away the moment you reach adulthood, instead it goes by a different name: Regret.

Word Count: 17.9k ( I have a problem, no I cannot fix it)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Pianist!Reader, Aspiring musician!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic (look at the word count), Heavy Angst, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of memories from the past, Fluff, Second chance romance, TW: Character death (Alhaitham’s grandma), TW: Themes about regret and low self-confidence, Heavy adult themes, gifted kid burn-out, toxic family, unhappy childhood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Service top! Alhaitham, mutual pining? kinda, unrequited love? sorta, slightly obsessive!Alhaitham, Soft!Alhaitham, Alhaitham is not faultless his current views have been formed through trial and painful error.

Authors Note: This is very experimental. I almost didn’t want to post it, but I just believe even the most stoic person isn’t without their past mistakes and regrets. Alhaitham doesn’t understand most forms of art... but he does value music. Enjoy.

There was something off about this stanza, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. A cup of now room-temperature coffee was on your dining table, next to the sheets of music you were currently editing. Tapping the end of the pencil on your lip as you shut your eyelids. You played the notes on the paper in your head.

It was an early Saturday afternoon, so you still had plenty of time before you had to go to your gig. It was a ritual on Saturdays that you would edit and write your compositions. A peaceful way to transition out of your lowly officer worker identity, and into the pianist you were. The thought of spreadsheets would be slowly replaced by lines of musical notes.

At this moment there were no emails to be answered. No shallow dry small talk from nosy cubical neighbors. No long meetings in uncomfortable chairs about irrelevant projects.

Just the low hum of your refrigerator accompanying your experimental melodies. It was your time to embrace your aspirations that were contained to only two days every week, but it was worth all forty-eight hours.

The fingers on your free hand tapped against the chipped lacquer table, envisioning the keys of your keyboard currently stationed in the crowded living room. Your fingers stilled as your eyes fluttered open. You found the error, crossing out the D major scale and changing it to D minor instead. Yes, D minor fits the somber tone of this piece much better.

Excitement bubbled up inside you, that small tweak had finally solved that bothersome feeling that had been vexing you the whole week. Oh, you felt it, you were in the zone now, inspiration and motivation were just flowing undisrupted through you. Quickly gathering up the sheet music, you sauntered to your keyboard, sitting down on the cheap pull-out bench.

There was no reason to worry about a noise complaint when it was in the middle of the day, but to follow social etiquette you made sure to lower the volume on the keyboard to just barely above mute. It was time to put everything together, you put your hands into position eager to press down on the smooth keys to finally hear the composition you had worked so hard on-

“Be careful with that! My unfinished models are in that box! Don’t just slam it down!” A voice boomed from the hall outside your door.

The sudden disturbance cut off the flow within you, fingers hovering over the keys. Of course, asking for peace and quiet in this dust heap apartment complex was a luxury the residents couldn’t afford. You inhaled deeply as you straighten your back.

It’s fine, it sounds as if a new neighbor is just moving in. You were used to this, just continue forward.

“Oi! Could you not just dump everything into the entranceway? How am I supposed to get through?!” You could hear the shuffling of boxes.

“Most people would be grateful for the help. Especially, when the help-seeker is someone who has yet to pay five months' worth of rent.” A box was dropped onto the floor.

“I just told you to be careful! It’s fragile! And I was busy saving up to move, I’m sure me moving out is well worth the rent money.”

“Brilliant rebuttal. Is this the same explanation you give the bank when they call inquiring about your debt, Kaveh?”

“And this is why I cannot stand people like you!-”

Your fingers were pressing down with force on the keys, yet you couldn’t hear any melody over the theatrical bickering taking place in the hall. The inside of your cheek is currently being abused by the grating of your teeth. It appears that social etiquette is dead, killed by narrow-minded individual interests.

The two voices continued to bounce off the wall, more accurately it was mostly one thunderous voice followed by a deep tone dripping with sarcasm. Your ears weren’t even processing the words being thrown around, their focus all on the impending tinnitus developing.

You needed to bring a stop to this now, lest it develops into a regular performance. Your thighs pushed back the flimsy seat, lips deep in a frown. The flow was ruined.

Unlocking the deadbolt that detained the door, you looked straight ahead as the rusting hinges sang their chaos, ready to bring a stop to this public disturbance.

“Can you please keep your voices d-” Your sentence died at the tip of your tongue.

The sight in front of you stopped you dead between your doorway. The blond-haired man’s head snapped towards you, eyes slightly apologetic. However, his face wasn’t what you had set your sights on, no, it was the familiar face of the ashen-haired man. A face you haven’t seen for seven years, Alhaitham.

Those same disinterested teal eyes shifted their focus onto you, and it paralyzed every muscle.

The silence was deafening now, not a single inch was budged by anyone. Like a frozen snapshot in time. His gaze was heavy, it was suffocating so your eyes switched over to meet with rudy irises instead.

The blond man’s attention flickered back and forth between the two of you, taking note of how his companion’s eyes never left your frame. His lips pressed into an awkward line as his head slowly turned towards the boxes behind him, finally reading the room.

“I’m going to start tidying up.” The blond didn’t perceive the desperation sent his way by you as his figure disappeared behind a closed door.

Now it was just you and Alhaitham. Finally reunited after seven long years apart in a decrepit hallway. The gurgling of the aging pipes and shuffling of feet from floors above accompanied the scene. Your body was still frozen in the midst of emerging from your apartment, and his tall figure was still stationed right across the narrow hall.

What were the last words you said to him that day many years ago again?

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.”

A hand hidden behind your back clenched into a fist as you recalled that embarrassing memory. Sharp words directed toward a younger version of the man in front of you. Words birthed from irrationality and wounded pride.

Now your brain had once again latched on to this core memory, you were certainly going to be kicking your blankets tonight. What a mortifying souvenir of the past.

The past anger and frustrations were all but lingering smoke in your hair, your heart couldn’t recall the heat of how they burned the bridge down. They say time heals, and it's true.

The years apart had gradually soothed over the tender wounds on your ego. With the pain subsided your brain was clear enough to review the moments that lead to that outburst, and it made you die internally.

Should you just apologize right now? To alleviate the creeping guilt traveling up your shoulder, and so your poor blanket won’t be kicked as hard tonight. Can a small apology really travel across the full length of the seven-year-wide rift that had formed? Your lips stayed firmly shut, there was your answer.

Alhaitham took a step towards you, instinctively your body shuffled three more steps away, widening the berth between your bodies. His movement paused, teal eyes peering down at you as you looked at the space behind his head. No words were said.

This awkward scene was very reminiscent of your introduction to the ashen-haired man many years ago.

–

Your parents, esteemed researchers working for a renowned corporation, had moved into a new neighborhood. The house was much larger than your old home, large enough to house a grand piano in the living room.

“It’s about time you start learning the piano.” Were the orders your parents had given you, sitting your six-year-old self at the intimidating instrument.

On the same day you were introduced to your new duty, you were also introduced to the neighbor’s kid. The only other kid on the block filled with prominent academic figures from the nation’s top university. A grey-haired boy was standing by the side of the older lady, while you clung to your father’s slacks. The boy’s bored teal-eyed stare made you advert your eyes to your pretty shoes.

“This is Alhaitham, he is the same age as you. Say hello.” The stern hands of your father broke your grasp on his slacks and pushed you towards the boy named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Alhaitham, won’t you greet our new neighbor?” The older woman’s wrinkled but kind eyes motioned to your nervous frame.

“Hello.” Greeted a flat voice.

Your tiny hand found its way back to your father’s slacks, grip wrinkling it even more. You were physically unable to utter a single noise. After what felt like an eternity of staring at your shiny sneakers, your father’s hand tug you away. The adults were now having a small conversation, mostly your parents apologizing for your shyness and the older professor laughing the matter off.

“There is no need to apologize, children are fickle sometimes. But I hope that she and Alhaitham will get along. You are always welcome to visit, little one.” Her eyes peered at your restless form. You liked her eyes, they were warm.

That night you sat through a long lecture from your parents about your rudeness toward the grandma. All you could do was bow your head, back perfectly straight on the plush new sofa. You were sent to bed with no dinner that night, told to think about how your actions would reflect upon your parents.

–

The invasive memory triggered by this sudden reunion left a bitter taste on your tongue. The taste that you’ve purposefully been fleeing from all these years. Now with his presence so burdensome, it was dragging your thoughts down deeper. You needed to put a stop to this before your head disappears under the water.

So just like all those years ago, you disappeared from teal eyes. Not uttering a single greeting as the resounding click of your door was heard.

Exiting the automated glass doors, you could finally relax your shoulders. The sun was hanging in the sky this Wednesday evening, you were grateful that you were actually able to clock off work on time.

Your eyes scanned the unfamiliar buildings that decorated the landscape, all large and reaching towards the sky, light bouncing off polished windows. You were free to explore.

Your job required you to attend a meeting about some closing of a deal between the two companies. Thus, the reason why you were currently in the midst of the upscale business district of Sumeru City. Opposing the rundown sector you called home, the sidewalks here were leveled and free of fissures. Many of the trendy shops that lined the streets beckoned you closer to their displays.

With one glance over the price tags attached to the chic items your body instantly turned away. Of course, the prices in the yuppie part of the city would be out of your budget.

Walking further down the road, you let yourself enjoy the warm breeze of Sumeru against your stuffy blouse and pencil skirt. Your skin has finally thawed out after being in that overly air-conditioned conference room. Turning onto a quieter side street you walked past the tantalizing smells wafting from the small cafes.

The gig from last Saturday compensated you quite handsomely. Perhaps you could splurge a little, a reward for yourself securing a returning performance later this month.

One particular cafe caught your interest, it was a combination of a bookstore and a coffee shop. The blackboard sign placed outside listed the daily specialties, and for once the prices of the drinks weren’t outrageous.

A small bell chimed above your head, welcoming you inside. After placing your order, you decided to peruse through the selection of novels the shop had on display.

Most of the titles were of the new best sellers or latest academic papers. Your fingers brushed across the smooth covers, observing the different arts and fonts. It seems that you’ve wonder quite a bit down the rows, somehow ending up in a section filled with the simple cover illustrations of children’s books. You were far too old to enjoy such books now.

Just as you turned on your heel to head back up the aisle, a brilliant verdant cover catches your eye. ‘Oh, so it’s still in print’, you thought. The Giving Tree, the title of the first book you ever learned to read.

–

“Alhaitham is the same age as you, yet he’s reading scientific journals. You should learn from him.” Your mother’s eyes examined your round eyes looking back up at hers.

Your small frame deflated even smaller, the bright aura that had been radiating off of you dissipated like morning dew under the harsh sun.

Just earlier you had your first piano lesson, the piano teacher was so excited to tell your parents how much potential you had, and how filled with talent you were. Their words made you perk up on the bench, the instrument no longer felt as frightening.

The praise had left you in a good mood, so much so that you agreed to accompany your mother to the neighbor’s house. A book clutched in the hand that wasn’t held in your mother’s clammy grasp. You weren’t sure if you were in a good mood anymore.

The kind grandma led you to a small library where her grandson was, Alhaitham was curled up on the rug with a thick journal in his small hands. The thin children’s book in your hand paled in comparison.

“Now, now. Alhaitham is just very passionate about reading. Your daughter is at the normal age where children begin reading, perhaps she’ll also gain a fondness if they read together. I think they’ll have fun together.” The kind woman gestured for you into the room.

Your mother releases your hand, a cold look ushered you toward the empty spot next to the boy. Settling down on the other side of the rug, you glanced up quickly. She seemed satisfied.

The grandma soon led your mother to another part of the house, continuing their conversation. You turned toward the boy next to you, he was too focused on the text in front of him to bother greeting you.

Spirits a bit dejected, you opened the cover to your own thin book. It was your father that placed the book in your hands, telling you to start reading. As your eyes glossed over the figures that took up only a fraction of the page, you came across the obvious hurdle.

You don’t know how to read. No one had ever sat you on their lap and gone through this book with you, or any book really.

The illustrations and script on the page taunted you, calling you to decypher their meanings and symbols. The pages were quickly flipped through until you hit the back cover, then flipped through once more until you were back to the front.

A foolish attempt for a miracle, that if you flipped through the book fast enough, somehow those scribbles on the pages will make sense.

“Are you even reading?” Spoke a slightly irritated voice.

Oh, your loud turning must have distracted the boy from his reading. The flipping stopped, as you glanced at him seeing the disinterested eyes staring back, you looked away. The embarrassment this time compelled your mouth to speak.

“N-no… I don’t know how…” Cheeks burned from shame, you could already feel that familiar sting in your eyes. Oh no, if you cried then mom might frown again.

A sigh resounded beside you, Alhaitham shifted his body out of his comfortable position against his pillow. Oh no, is he getting up to tell mom about the dark secret you just spilled to him? You didn’t get him to promise he won’t tell, will he get you in trouble?

“Give it here.” An expecting hand reached out, palms open.

You blinked at the hand slowly, did he want the book in exchange for not telling? Obediently, you placed the small book into his hold. His teal eyes glance over the title quickly, before he lays the book open in the space between your two bodies. Your head tilted in confusion at his actions. But as soon as his tranquil voice read the word out loud, that confusion stopped.

“Mmm… I don’t like the boy.” You crossed your arms in front of your small body, round cheeks pushed out in a pout.

Alhaitham just finished reading the story to you, he ran his small finger along with each word he spoke so you could follow along as well. His eyes connected with yours inquisitively, waiting for you to continue.

“The nice tree gave him so much, and he never said ‘thank you’. And he left the tree alone for so long, the tree must have been so sad. He’s mean, a big meanie and… and…”

“Ungrateful.” Alhaitham finished your sentence.

“Un-un..grateful?” You titled your head again, the unfamiliar word felt weird on your tongue.

“Ungrateful. U-n-g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. It means having no feelings of thanks, you can also say he’s selfish.” The boy answered your question before you could even ask it.

You pressed a finger against your lips, turning the newly learned vocabulary in your head. Yeah, those words fit the boy in the story very well. Ungrateful and selfish. You looked back at the boy sitting next to you, a smile stretched your chubby cheeks. The grandma was right, reading with him was fun.

“You’re really smart.” You beamed at him.

“That means nothing to me.” He huffed, turning his face away.

You could spy with your little eyes the red tint on the tips of his ears that peeked out from his ash-colored hair.

“Hehe, and you’re funny too.” For the first time in a while, you giggled.

–

What a bittersweet memory, like the fragrance of the different brews traveling throughout the small shop. Yet, the nostalgia brought a small curl to your lips. You turned away from the book, only to flinch at what your eyes saw next.

The boy from your memories is now a man standing adjacently. You must’ve been too lost in thought to notice his towering stature.

After that tense reunion in the hallway, thankfully Alhaitham didn’t decide to knock on your door. Not that you would’ve answered anyways. He probably had already predicted your actions, and thus saved himself the time.

He was dressed in a suit and but the tie was loose around his neck, he must’ve just gotten off of work. The path back to the coffee bar was just slightly blocked by his wide frame, you had to get past him.

Teal-orange eyes converged with your stare, ah it’s too late to try and sneak past now. Alhaitham acknowledges your presence with a slight nod of his head, expression blank and unreadable. Once again you didn’t say a single greeting.

As if a merciful archon had been watching this pathetic interaction, an opportunity for escape was granted in the form of the barista calling out your name.

“Excuse me.” Was all you could muster, hastily striding past him, body pressed against the selves so as to not brush against him.

Before you the bell at the front chimed again to signal your departure, you made sure to leave some extra mora, more than the necessary amount. Done in silent gratitude towards the unsung hero of a barista.

It was now the last Saturday of the month, meaning it was time for your return performance. In your bathroom mirror, you smoothed out any stray hairs, straightening out your black performance garb.

A sacred ritual to slow the beating of your jumping heart. It’s a bit silly to admit, but no matter how many times you’ve performed, your nerves always went haywire. A terrible habit that made its way to adulthood.

The tavern you were performing at was quite a popular joint among the locals of Sumeru City. The nice wooden and homey interior gave many city dwellers their taste of nature in a progressing world. A grand piano was tucked away in a clear corner of the establishment, a ring of tables enclosed the area into a stage of sorts.

Pushing through the intricately carved doors, you entered Lambad’s Tavern eyes surveying the audience for this Saturday night. There were some tables still empty, awaiting the future stream of guests. Chatter quietly reverberated through the serene scene for now.

The atmosphere can get a bit rowdy as more and more alcohol ran through the systems of patrons. In a way, it was perfect for you, a perfect stepping stone in your slow climb.

Checking in with the manager at the front, you got the thumbs up to start setting up for your show. An agreement had been reached earlier this month that you would be playing the piano for three hours, three hours of having the privilege to play on a grand piano again. Not on the electronic imitation of your keyboard. Eager hands glided their soft touch along the smooth keys.

Yes, nothing can truly capture the beauty of the grand piano’s voice, not even the CDs you set up on a table nearby. Recordings with a mixed tracklist of classical pieces and original compositions, just like your setlist for tonight.

Lifting up the fallboard, you set the sheets against the music stand. Not that you needed them. Every note, every rest, and every change in tempo memorized in your fingers. Taking a deep breath, your eyes did one final scan around the room. Most tables were too emersed in their own conversations to take note of you.

Rubbing your fingers together to grind out the tremble of your nerves before you shut your eyes. In the darkness quiet darkness of your mind, your fingers moved into their positions over the keys. Erik Satie’s Je te veux resonated with the muddled conversations of the audience, adding to the serene air.

You’ve always closed your eyes when performing, a trait that has embedded itself from the start of your music career. The darkness of your mind offered a reprieve from the critical eyes of judges and parents during recitals and competitions.

You first stepped into this safe haven around the time of your first recital at the age of eight.

–

It’s been a few months since you first began your piano lessons, and your teacher was eager to announce your first recital. They had a sparkle in their eyes, keen to show off their most talented disciple.

They had discovered an unpolished diamond among the mediocre ruff, a young naturally blessed child. Your lips were kept sealed about the long hours your parents forced you to sit in front of the piano after each weekly lesson.

Before you only ever played under the watchful gaze of either your parents or teacher, not an audience of strangers. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified.

“I can’t do it.” You retracted your hands from the piano once again, as if the keys were scorching you.

“You said you wanted to play the piano for me.” The young boy beside you huffed out, annoyed at your actions. You had repeated these steps five times now.

“I know! But I’m… scared…” Your posture deflated.

“If you can’t play in front of one person, how can you play for a crowd?” Alhaitham’s disinterested eyes crept back to the book he had placed beside him, you had dragged him away from his reading for this.

“I don’t know…” A frown pulled at your face, eyes feeling the incoming burn. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.

There was a tense moment of nothingness between the two of you. The boy quietly observed the paper propped up against the music stand.

“Do you know how to play this piece?” His flat voice broke the suspense.

“Yes I do! I’ve been practicing this every day, I can even do it with my eyes closed.” You huffed in disbelief at his accusation.

“Then do that. Just play with your eyes closed.” He retorted as if it was the most obvious statement in the world.

Which in truth, it was the most obvious statement in the world. You’ve been practicing Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen since the beginning of the month every day for six hours a day. The rhythm and keys were ingrained into your fingers by the second week.

The solution was so plain and simple, why didn’t you think of it? Your parents were right, you are always a few steps behind the brilliant boy.

An embarrassed flush covered your round cheeks. Suddenly his stare was heavy, heavier than the ones from your parents and teacher. The muscles in your finger felt tense. Your young mind could tell that if this continued then the tune embedded in your hands wouldn’t come out at all.

“Can you not look?” A quiet plead.

“I thought you wanted me to watch.” A grey brow was raised.

“I know… But…” Around him, you couldn’t seem to finish your sentences.

“Fine.” Deciding that prying further would be a wasted effort, Alhaitham turned his short body around on the bench so that his back faced the piano instead. Cracking open his thick book back to the page he had left off on.

“I don’t need to look at you to hear you play anyways.” The young boy’s eyes returned back to their place among the text.

Sitting back up straight again, shoulder back and hands into position. You took a deep breath and entered the darkness behind your eyelids. This time your fingers guided you through the moment, and the piano sang out its melodies.

–

Coincidentally, Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen just so happened to be ending right now as the memory finished its course. You had transitioned into the piece some time ago, finishing five out of the many on your three-hour setlist. It was right about time for a small break.

As your eyelids lifted a few soft claps reached your ears, from the growing chatter it seems that more customers had funneled into the tavern.

The manager of the tavern was a very generous man, so much so that he offers you a complimentary drink you could claim during each of your breaks. You would be a fool to turn down such an offer, but you reminded yourself that you need to maintain a certain level of sobriety. For the sake of your performance.

The sweet wine felt divine running down your parched throat. The alcohol did wonders in mellowing out your racing thoughts as you returned back to your place at the piano. Just like before, you did a small survey of your surroundings. Big mistake, for your mind kicked into overdrive when locking gazes with teal eyes.

‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

A superstition you should really be more mindful of. Shifting your body towards the piano, you ended the impromptu staring contest. Ah, what song were you supposed to play now? Thoughts scrambled as you can still feel the heaviness of Alhaitham’s gaze on your back. ‘Just play’ you internally scolded.

Letting your fingers take over the piano, retreating back into the comforting blackness.

“Who was that?” Kaveh creaked open the door to his new apartment, inquiring his now former roommate about the scene that unraveled moments before.

Alhaitham observed the heavy metal frame that closed you off from him once more. This was certainly an unexpected surprise. It’s been seven years since he last hear your voice. Seven years since you marched forth on a path carved by your own grit and resoluteness.

Many things have changed these seven years.

Who are you?

Eyes still following the cracks of the paint running up your door, the ashen-haired man’s mind recounted a scene from long ago.

–

It’s been a few months since you first moved into this neighborhood, taking Alhaitham’s title of ‘only kid on the block’ away. During your first introduction, you wouldn’t even greet him constantly tugging on your father’s pant leg and staring at your feet.

Now you wouldn’t stop greeting him. After lunch, almost like clockwork, there would be a knock at his front door. Disrupting his precious reading time. You’d be there on the other side with a new book for him to read to you, or you’d bounce on the heels of your feet inviting him to hear your piano.

Today, it was the latter. Alhaitham had his back facing the piano, the position that made you the most comfortable. A book was open in his lap, but his mind was busy pondering a mystery to pay attention to it or to the tune you were playing. Grandma said it wasn’t good to hold in questions, lest they consume the curious mind. Best to get answers from the source of the mystery.

“Why do you seek me out?” His flat voice interfered with the sharp notes.

“Huh?” You turned to him perplexed, fingers now hovering over the keys.

“Are we friends?” He asked directly, it’s good to be straightforward.

“Of course we’re friends! Even if you’re a bookworm, you’re still a precious friend of mine.” Chest puffed up at your bold declaration.

“If I am a bookworm, it’s only appropriate to call you an earworm.”

“E-earworm? There are worms that live in the ear??”

“No, it’s just a figure of speech. Earworm refers to a tone or melody that repeats constantly in the mind.”

“Ooh. Earworm…” You pondered the term for a bit before another splitting smile spread across your face.

“Yes! You’re a bookworm and I’m an earworm.” A finger was directed at him then back at yourself, giggling.

Strangely, the young boy felt a tickle at the back of his throat, as if your laughter was contagious like a cold. He decided to hold it back in favor of observing your expression for a bit longer.

“Oh!” You jumped up from the bench, reaching into the shiny pencil case you kept close to the piano.

Pulling out a bold black marker you uncapped the tool before climbing onto the bench, the extra height allowing you to maneuver the top half of your body into the body of the piano.

Now it was his turn to be bewildered, quickly snapping his eyes towards the entrance of the living room, watching out for signs of your parents. Soon you reemerged from the instrument, capping the marker with a proud look in your eyes.

“There, now there’s solid proof of our friendship.”

Alhaitham peers into the piano, observing the words clumsily written along the wooden shell:

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

“Why am I before you? It’s your piano isn’t it?”

“Well ‘B’ comes before ‘E’.” You puffed out your cheek at his lackluster response to your heartfelt gesture.

For the first time ever in front of you, Alhaitham let an obvious smile appear on his face.

–

What a bittersweet term. Friends. Yes, the two of you were once friends long ago. Close friends who morphed into strangers. The catalyst for this change? With each new stage of life, branching paths will appear, the parting of ways is just a natural phenomenon.

He is Alhaitham and you are you. Separate individuals with separate lives on separate paths.

“Just someone I used to know.” Came his candid answer.

“Right.” Kaveh rolled his eyes, clearly displeased at how the ashen-haired man won’t give his question an actual response.

Alhaitham removed his eyes from your door, picking the cardboard box back off the tiled hallway. Kaveh didn’t need to know the specifics, the precious details shall forever make their home in a safe corner of his mind.

Alhaitham exited the ornate doors of the office building. Currently, it was the closing quarter, meaning the office has been more bothersome than usual. Even with his perfected front of acting busy, more and more troublesome characters have been strolling into his office. It’s irrelevant now, for the secretary is now off the clock.

The sun was still in the sky, perfect weather to grab a bit to eat from a local coffee shop. It’s been a week since he last picked up a new book as well, there was one place that came to mind that would allow the man to kill two birds with one stone. Long legs walked with swift strides towards his destination.

Even will his earphones in, Alhaitham could still hear the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. In Sumeru City this was expected, construction, traffic, and pedestrians, everything thing muddled together in noisy inference with his thoughts. He turns up the volume.

Opening the door to the cafe, the bell sounded his arrival. The usual barista was there at the counter. With a quick glance up the barista instinctively placed his order, a testament to just how often the ashen-haired man frequents this place. Good, this saves him the trouble.

Without pausing his music, Alhaitham began pursuing the nonfiction section of the small shop. There were a few new scientific journals that have been published, maybe he’ll give them a read.

Although his ears were currently occupied, that doesn’t mean his other senses were dulled. He could feel the weight of someone’s gaze upon his back. Usually, the man would simply brush such occurrences off. But there was this small nag coming from a corner of his mind. This could be a result of a brain being bored by a day’s worth of paperwork. He’ll indulge his curiosity.

Returning the weight of the gaze back to the mysterious source he felt his jaw clench just a bit. There you were again, staring at him with your lips pressed together tensely. Your wide eyes were very reminiscent of a spooked songbird. Everything about your body language read startled and for flight.

This time, Alhaitham doesn’t encroach, he simply nodded his head in a small greeting. It seems even this small action sparked you to flee. You mouthed something before quickly strolling past him.

Shamelessly, his teal eyes followed your path as you paid for your coffee and disappeared out of sight from the shop windows. Yes, his statement that these seven years have brought about much change was correct. It wasn’t like this before.

–

“Alhaitham, why are you reading here?” His grandma inquired about the reason behind her grandson situating himself at the window nook instead of inside the library.

“I just wanted to enjoy the sunlight.” Came his crafted response.

From this small nook, the window gave a clear view of the front steps and the path that led to the house just across the street. The older woman took note of this, kind eyes giving the young boy a knowing look and smile. You had begun attending the local school.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham adamantly wanted to stay home and self-study instead. Stating that all the material the school covered he already knew. The old lady didn’t raise any objections to her grandson’s decision.

“If you go over to her house remember to be polite, and inform me before you do.” A wrinkled hand tussled through his soft ashen locks.

“There’s no need. I’m just sitting here to read.” He leaned into his grandma’s touch.

“Of course, of course. Then I shall make use of this afternoon to review some material. Remember what I said.”

“Yes, grandma.” Came his reply.

With that, Alhaitham was left to his own thoughts by the window. He didn’t really know why he felt the pull to sit by the window. Was it to get a glimpse of you? The neighbor’s daughter?

You and he were the only two kids on the block, so it wasn’t surprising you would often seek out his company. A friendship formed by virtue of close proximity. However, now you were attending classes filled with other kids your age. His company would sooner or later fade into obscurity.

Alhaitham has always been very attuned to the situation around him, displaying a level of maturity and insight way beyond his years. Perhaps he still retains some semblance of that childish essence. Demonstrated by his current position, the book in his lap only held half of his attention, the other wondering out the clear glass.

What is he hoping for realistically? Others can provide you much livelier company than he ever could, and yet he still-

The boy puts down the book, short legs pattering across the wooden floor swiftly carrying his body to the door. Small hands turned the cold brass before he channeled all his strength into prying the wooden mass from the frame.

Revealing your bewildered face, hand frozen in its position ready to knock on the now open door. Once your eyes met, it wasn’t long before a smile replaced your expression.

“Hi, Haitham! Wanna hear me play today?”

–

Yes, that was how things used to be. Even as your social circle grew, even as new families moved in, you’d still appear back in front of him. Beaming that smile he lost the privilege to see. Like a songbird that returned every day to sing in front of his window as the solitary child read.

Alhaitham’s eyes found themselves locked once more on a door, the one you had rushed out of not so long ago. There was a weight pulling down on the corners of his mouth. He entered Sumeru’s education system during high school. Missing the crucial formative years previously where cliques and social labels were formed, he stood alone as a loner.

But You always rushed towards him through crowded halls and rooms. Breaking away amidst your social circle from orchestra and band. Just to tap him on the shoulder and eat lunch together in the sanctuary of a private practice room that housed the school’s piano.

These repetitive memories plaguing him brought a bitter taste to his coffee. Perhaps it was the dreadful combination of sweet memory and awareness of the current state of affairs.

Finally, the end of the month has come. Meaning things at work have sorted themselves out, at least for another three months. In lieu of attending an actual company-sponsored dinner, Alhaitham decides to get a drink at the local tavern.

Company dinners were noisy, filled with black ties and white lies. Too troublesome. However, recently his mind has been filling the silence of his house with redundant thoughts.

A drink from time to time is a good way to destress and quell the mind, Alhaitham reasons as he enters the establishment. Lambad’s Tavern was a local joint that provides a small solace from the rambunctious city streets. A place the man likes to visit on occasion, usually when an invitation was extended.

From the moment he entered through the doors, he could hear a piano ending its cords. It seems that there was live music tonight. Usually, it was nice to have background music accompany the chatter of the other patrons. But why a piano of all choices tonight? Alhaitham takes a deep breath before letting out a small sigh, it’s as if a ghost of the past is haunting him.

Placing an order for a bottle of wine to be delivered to a secluded area, Alhaitham makes his way to the usual table. His body maneuvered through the sea of flushed face patrons, and the sight of the grand piano came into view.

The bench by the instrument was empty, perhaps his mind really is just conjuring up a ghost. Regardless, once the wine comes these thoughts will settle.

“Your wine.” The alcohol was set down.

“Thank you.” Alhaitham swirls the glass a bit before taking a sip.

His bored eyes began to wander once more, looking for anything to bide the time with, unsurprisingly they were beckoned towards the piano. Only this, time it was no longer empty. No, this time it was no ghost invented by a bored mind, it was you. He stiffly swallowed down the wine.

He wasn’t subtle nor careful with how obviously he was staring, thinking too occupied by astonishment. This must have tipped you off, as once again your wide-eyed gaze connected with his heavy one. You made that tense face again. You broke away, tightly shutting your eyes before your fingers hit the keys, making the piano sing.

‘Oh, so you still closed your eyes when you played’. Alhaitham found a strange satisfaction in this fact as if he found comfort in the one constant he still knew about you. Arms and fingers moved fluidly, a sight he used to not be able to see out of respect for you.

–

Your parents were busy with their research, and his grandmother had her hands full with academic responsibilities. It was only Alhaitham who had the time, a resource only abundant in youth, to attend your recitals and concerts.

As the crowd and the judges bored holes into your figure up on stage, the young man kept his eyes peeled on the book in front of him.

The young man didn’t mind attending these events, the audience was mostly silent save for the occasional applause. After so many years and lunches spent by your side at the piano, his ears have gotten used to the melodic accompaniment to his reading.

The final chords of your performance reverberated throughout the air, followed by the rolling clapping of hands.

He lifted his attention up to the stage. Although it’s ironic how the only time you wanted him to watch your performance was at the end, he’ll respect your wishes. From the brightly lit stage, you were finishing your bow, and as your head rises your eyes connected with his. A beaming smile was directed at him.

Was it you or the stage lights that stung his eyes?

“How’d you think I did, Haitham?” Was the first thing out of your lips after rejoining him.

The concert hall had emptied out some time ago, and Alhaitham had been waiting by the backstage door to walk home with you. You held a thick folder against the front of your formal black gown, a bounce in your ballet flat steps. Alhaitham pretended to contemplate his answer.

“I’m not well versed in acoustics nor how to judge music, so I don’t see how my opinion would matter.” Came his flat reply.

“Haitham, you listened to me play for years. How have you not learned a thing?” You pouted, just like how he predicted.

The young man gave you a simple shrug. Of course, he found your performance exceptional, he was there for the hours of practice you put in.

“Whatever, now that it’s over. I can start looking at the piece the conductor wanted me to accompany for the school’s orchestra. Ahh, I only have three weeks to practice.” You made a face as you dug through the thick folder as the two of you continued to walk.

He only hummed in response, shifting his focus back to his book. It was the sweet Sumeru Spring of your third year of high school, the perfect for a serene walk home.

Over the top of the pages, his teal eyes could see your lips press into a crooked line, desperately trying to suppress your snickers as you sightread the notes on the sheet.

“Is that a piece by Debussy?”

“Huh? How’d ya know, Haitham?”

You were easy to read. After knowing you for over a decade now, you were like an open book to him. The journal hides his small smile from your sight.

–

The memory reminded him to advert his eyes, focusing back on the glass of wine in front of him. He came here for a drink, he should follow through with his plan. The wine quickly vanished as Alhaitham signed for another. It took an impressive amount of willpower for his eyes to not wander back, he won’t let them.

Your small performance had come to an end, sounded by the closing of the fallboard and how the bench dragged against the floor. He knew you were bowing to show thanks to the audience, yet he still refused to look. From your earlier actions, it was blatant that you despised his presence.

So even as your figure passed by his table, Alhaitham refused to allow you into his line of sight.

It’s been an hour since you left the establishment in a rush, and Alhaitham had run up quite the tab now, best to call it a night. Tossing some mora onto the table, the ashen-haired man stands up ready to begin the taxis ride back.

The effects of the alcohol must have made his eyes wander back to the piano, a fruitless attempt to watch one last glimpse. And a glimpse they found, in the form of a CD you had carelessly left behind.

You had abandoned it, thus it was now free for the taking.

It was unlike the stoic man to order rounds after rounds of wine, but he needed something to busy himself with. Just as how you were busy with the piano, he needed the alcohol to quell undesirable impulses. However, as his unsteady steps made it up the front porch, he was chastising himself for that decision. A hangover was guaranteed in the morning.

Roughly slamming the door shut behind him, Alhaitham entered the asylum of his home. The newfound stillness of the house was usually a luxury the ashen-haired man indulged in. However, at the moment it was a tribulation, for his noisy thoughts filled the silence. Its volume only exacerbated by the alcohol in his system.

When he was younger, Alhaitham naively thought the knowledge gained from academic journals was equivalent to experience. After all, he had just read about another person’s experiences, he could pinpoint their flaws and learn from their mistakes so as to not repeat them.

Just like the knowledge obtained from his books, he assumed that you too shall always remain in his possession, you shall always stay by his side. Of course, only a naive teenager, no, only a naive child would think this way.

Did you know that the downfall of many great kings, heroes, and gods was their hubris? Excess self-confidence blinds their vision. Excess confidence only a naive child would have, believing he could analyze everything.

Oh, how life works in mysterious ways, finding lessons to humble such egos. Alhaitham, against his will, reminisces about the event that taught him a valuable lesson in the noisy silence of his house.

–

“Haitham, I can’t believe they did it.” You were curled up on the couch of his grandmother’s home, tears streaming down your face.

“They sold my piano, Haitham. They sold it because they wanted me to get over this ‘hobby’. Hypocrites, as if they weren’t the ones who forced me to practice hours a day since I was a kid.”

Alhaitham said nothing, silently holding the tissue box out to you. The pair of you had just returned from school just a few hours earlier, bidding goodbye before returning to your respective houses. However, just an hour ago his quiet reading was disrupted by frantic pounding on the front door. He had opened it to your tear-stained face.

“How could they instill in me a passion for all my life, but when I want to continue with it as a career, they do their damnedest to snuff it out?” You were furiously wiping your eyes with the back of your hands.

Oh, so that’s what happened. Alhaitham had already seen this coming, knowing how your parents were, it was predictable. They had valid reasons for not wanting their daughter to pursue such a career path.

You still had stage fright, constantly telling him to not look at you when you played. How would you make a living like this? He analyzed the statistics and figures before he comes to his own conclusion.

There was no reason that you couldn’t balance a stable career with your passion for piano. In Sumeru, they had one of the most progressive work cultures of all of Teyvat. There were generous amounts of paid time off, sick days, and reasonable hours. You had more than enough time for music.

He decides to share his conclusion with you.

“Music should stay a hobby. Even graduates from the most prestigious music universities aren’t guaranteed a career. To be frank, it’s better if you pursue a degree that leads to a steadfast position. Of course, be firm in your boundaries so that you can have the time for piano.”

The room fell silent, your wide eyes stared into his calm teal ones. A heavy hush hung in the air as the grandfather clock continued to tick away, until it rang, signaling the change in the air. After the last resonance of its chime faded, you let out a laugh, but there was no joy in your voice.

“Of course… Why did I think you’d be different? This is why they love you.” Your tone was dry as your shoulders shook, eyes now trained on the floor.

“Look at Alhaitham, what a level-headed guy he is, you should learn from him. Look at his grades, why can’t you be top of the class? He’s so talented and good at everything, what can you do? Why can’t you be more like Alhaitham?” You spat out his name as if it was poisonous.

“Comparison is the thief of joy, you shouldn’t-” Alhaitham needed to de-escalate this crescendo.

“If only you were born their son… Then I wouldn’t have suffered.” More tears fell from your eyes as you stumbled off the couch.

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.”

Alhaitham once believed that words, which have no physical form, couldn’t hurt him. The stab in his chest from an unseen force dismissed that notion.

Your burning eyes reconnected with his gaze. He knew that look, he’s seen it many times. Jealousy, anger, and hatred. They were familiar emotions that others cast his way, yet he found himself taken aback. You’ve never looked at him like this before… Have you?

Before he could utter another word, you stormed off. All the young man could do was watch the back of your figure as it disappeared from sight.

–

There was a firm frown now on Alhaitham’s lips and a furrow between his brows. He wanted this horrible play to end, for his brain to stop showing him events that have already passed. It’s always one’s own mind that can show the most cruelty to itself.

–

It’s been a month since you’ve last spoken to him. Taking long about ways to school so as to avoid crossing paths with him, your lunches were spent locked in private practice rooms.

Young Alhaitham had a whole month to analyze and reanalyze at which moment everything fell apart. After much deliberation, he concluded that he made a miscalculation. He overstepped his boundaries.

In the end, it was your life, you should be the one to decide how you will live it. His unsolicited suggestion was wholly unnecessary. He knew an apology was needed.

However, he could read from your actions that you weren’t ready to talk to him just yet. It wouldn’t be wise to approach you, lest you look at him again with those eyes. That’s fine, he can wait until you came to him. Alhaitham bided his time with more books. Was reading without music always this lonely?

It was the day of your graduation. From within the sea of celebratory gowns and cheering students, teal eyes honed in on your figure. You were intentionally avoiding his gaze, instead going to congratulate and talk to fellow musicians and classmates. His hand balled up into a fist before he unclenched it. It’s fine, you need more time, and he’ll respect that.

It’s the least he could do. Either way, the two of you had the whole Summer to make up before university started.

Another miscalculation on his part.

Alhaitham recalls the panicked ringing of his doorbell, but instead of you, the door opened to reveal your parents. You were gone. Your phone was left behind, important documents missing from filing cabinets, and a bag full of belongings gone. You’ve vanished, the only explanation they got was a note:

“Don’t Bother Me”.

You’ve already become a legal adult, how could the Matra have any justification to drag you back?

That whole hellish Sumeru Summer Alhaitham read at the nook located by the front door. For that whole Summer, the young man answered any number that flashed on his screen. He knew that you had limited money, after your pitiful savings dried up you were bound to return. If not to your house, then at least to this haven.

Your voice was never on the other side.

Laughably, it took the prodigy Alhaitham an entire Summer to finally come to terms with the facts of the matter. The songbird had left its tarnished cage, and it will never return. He started university without you by his side.

–

Grey lashes fluttered open as the play finally ends. Memories that once looped like a broken record in his mind. With time this memory became a softer hum to his thoughts. An earworm that burrowed deep within so as to remind him of his past shortcomings.

Yes, his past mistakes made him aware of his limited human vision. That he did in fact not know everything. The series of errors that strayed you away from him. Humans weren’t books, they’re not as easy to decipher as scripts on a page. The growing pains of maturing. A lesson he has learned well.

Once was an accident, twice is a coincidence, and the third time… a chance. Alhaitham doesn’t believe in gods or fate, but he does believe in opportunity.

Teal eyes made their way to the CD left on top of a polished ivory top. This time, he shall turn around and chase after the ghost, to return to her what was rightfully hers.

If these occurrences were bound to happen more often, then it’s best for you to catch up with the seven-year backlog of information. Of course, instead of consulting the primary source for the much-needed answers, you turned to a secondary source instead. You are nothing, if not a coward.

Hence why on this warm Thursday night you were out at the local bar, wallet getting emptied by the blond slumped next to you.

“Ugh, that man was a tyrant. Leaving books everywhere, letting dust just pile up, and every other sentence had to be a snide remark.” Kaveh finishes another glass, another cry from your wallet.

You were still nursing your second glass while Kaveh’s got a scarlet glow already. A part of you regrets inviting your hall neighbor out, but you appreciated the wealth of information he spilled out once a drop of liquor hit his tongue.

Currently, Alhaitham is employed at the top company in Sumeru city. he’s the secretary but quickly raising up the ranks. He also owns his own house in a rich suburb, one he used to share with the drunk man beside you, but now it only houses himself.

“Not only that but every week like clockwork that apathetic bastard would bring home the ugliest furniture. He once brought home an old piano. It took up so much space and clashed against the dark wood of the house! He wouldn’t even try to arrange them, he messed up the feng shui! He can’t even play! What was it for then?!”

Ah, you can see why the architect was willing to move into the lackluster apartment, he was desperate the spare his blood pressure. You don’t blame him, in fact hearing about your former friend’s spending habits brought a sour aftertaste to your wine.

Oh, how nice it must be to have such financial freedom.

“Then whenever I make a polite suggestion that he try to consider aesthetics, his response? ‘It is my life, my house, and my money. Suggestions from others are irrelevant and should be ignored. I’m guessing such philosophies are difficult to uphold for designers who must bend to their client’s will.’ Can you believe how insufferable he is?”

“Hypocrite.” That word rolled bitterly off your tongue, a past dialogue resurfacing from the back of your mind.

The blond’s hazy eyes peered at your inquisitively. Then his drunken mind sparks a thought: Why were you asking about Alhaitham? He also remembers that he had unanswered questions as well.

“By the way, what is your relation to that detached man?”

“Just a nobody who got compared to his brilliance.”

That doesn’t satisfy his question at all.

“Not this game again. Seriously, just what went down between the two of-”

“For a person who prides himself on his empathy, you sure are oblivious to the discomfort you’re causing. Prying for details that don’t concern you.” A deep voice from behind made your skin prickle.

Why was he here?

You didn’t need to look to feel the heavy weight of his teal eyes, boring holes into your stiff frame. The wine tasted awful now. It’s rude to ditch the guest that you had invited out, but you needed to get out of here before bile begins to taint your palette.

Quickly signaling for the tab, you didn’t even comprehend the number before you slammed down a bunch of mora.

“I’ll leave first. It was nice drinking with you, Kaveh. Let’s do this again sometime.” An excuse and lie.

“Hey, wait-” The blond lifted up his hand.

“I’ll walk you home. It’s quite dangerous this time of night around here.” Alhaitham’s body turned to follow you. Ah, he’s pointing out how shit your neighborhood was, isn’t he.

“Oi! Stop interrupting your senior-”

Alhaitham tosses an extra handful of mora onto the table. Kaveh was nearly shaking with rage, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of another few glasses of wine.

You were taking exaggerated strides across the uneven concrete, trying to put some distance between you. However, your legs were no match for the towering man’s steps, as it wasn’t before long until he caught up.

The clicking of your shoes and the thumps of his steps filled the tense silence. You refused to meet his gaze. But the thoughts racing through your mind needed answers, in particular, why is he haunting you now of all times?

“Why are you here?” You punched in the code for the entrance of the complex.

“I was looking for you. It just so happens that I spotted you through the window of the bar.”

There was an annoyed twitch at your eyebrow. He is not aware of how creepy he sounded right now?

You swiftly pulled the heavy door open and tried to slam it behind you, to create a barrier. However, Alhaitham’s foot was just a bit faster. His tall figure continued to loom behind you as you ascended the stairs.

“I have a reason to seek you.”

“Oh? Then pray tell, why a young professional would follow a woman to her home.” Keys fumbling to fit into the loose door handle.

“I took a CD. I’m no thief, and I believe that a musician should be fairly compensated for her work.” Came his flat reply.

That’s it? You already had a terrible week at work, becoming the scapegoat for the incompetency of managers. Now, his presence was only exacerbating the negativity flowing through you. Maybe the heat of the fire hasn’t been completely forgotten. You don’t want his money, you don’t want his pity.

For the first time, you whipped around intentionally staring straight into his teal-orange irises. You don’t need his money nor pity. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the mounting stress on your shoulders or a damning combination of both.

You wanted to wipe that indifferent look off his handsome face, you couldn’t stand it.

Alhaitham’s lips parted ready to continue the transaction, only to be interrupted by the crashing of another on his. Your fingers were tangled in the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the crisp fabric. Your burning stare never left his slightly raised eyes, wanting to observe anything hint of human emotion.

Shock? Disgust? Fury? You’d take anything over his infuriatingly stoic face.

Instead of shoving you off like you inferred, Alhaitham slowly lowers his eyelids. Parting his lips even more as if to grant more access, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. These actions only irked you more.

This wasn’t your first kiss with him, the first time happened while two friends were sitting by a piano, heads turning to face each other too fast. An accidental brushing of lips. It irked you that the mushy feeling from that day was currently making its grand return.

Breaking away to allow oxygen back into your burning lungs, a thin strand of saliva trailing between. You were panting as his eyes reconnected with yours, something else was swimming behind those impartial irises. Too bad you were too impatient to decipher it, as you pulled his face back down.

Back pushing the rusty apartment door ajar. Two bodies disappeared behind the awful singing of its hinges.

–

For once, you woke up before the screeching of your phone. The sun was just barely peeking through the blinds. A muscular arm was draped over your bare torso, sheets still a bit damp from sweat. You knew that smell currently suffocating you in the room. You just slept with your former friend.

Your hand itched to slap your face. Idiot, you avoided him for all this time just to welcome him into your bed.

Stealthily shimming your body out of bed, you could feel the slight wobble of your legs. Of course, he’s good at sex, he’s good at everything. You cast a quick glance at his slumbering form. Teal eyes were still hidden behind closed lids. Good, he’s not awake.

Like a thief in your own home, you toed around the clothes scattered across the floor, careful to avoid the creaky wooden planks you’ve memorized.

Swiftly grabbing a random assortment of items out of your closet, you deemed the outfit professional enough for work. Trying to glide across the cluttered apartment like a ghost, you put on your heels, ready for the walk of shame away from your apartment. At least your gym membership will see some use now, a shower would be great to wash the shame and guilt off.

It’s not like you had anything worth stealing. Grabbing your bag off the table, you exited the scene of the crime. Hinges announcing your departure.

If the you from a few months ago saw what the reunion of friends had morphed into, she’d probably keel over in shock. Can you even call yourselves friends anymore?

The next Saturday following that incident, you had finished up another gig at Lambad’s Tavern. An all too familiar face made his way up to the piano. Browsing through the selection of CDs you still had on display.

“I’ll take this one.” Alhaitham held the smooth plastic in one hand, as his other reached for his wallet.

You gestured for him to stop. Crossing your arms in front of your body as if soothing your nerves. Pride still too great to accept his money, a resource he seems to have in excess. Just earlier in the day, after reaching the second round in the audition, the proctor thanked you for your time and lead you to the exit. Another failed attempt to join an orchestra.

You knew that returning to your cramped abode will only lead you to wallow in misery with a cheap bottle of liquor.

“You can come over. I’ll take it as compensation.”

How would you define this relationship? Friends with benefits? But the two of you were ex-friends, so that wouldn’t really make sense. Regardless, you knew what you wanted. To forget the sting of failure through pleasure. You turned your head to face him, awaiting his reply. An attentive stare was the silent confirmation you needed.

Does he think you’re easy or desperate? You didn’t particularly care for his opinion anymore. Alhaitham was currently kneeling by the side of your mused bed, he was here to ‘compensate’ you, and compensate he will. Your thighs were firmly held in his large hands, spreading them apart granting him access to the honeypot he seeks.

His hot tongue lapped at your slick folds, parting the labia and collecting your slick. Making sure to end the journey with a small flick to the little nub on top, before the wet muscle traveled back down. The noise was sinfully melodic. Your legs were straining against his hold, instinctively wanting to close in on his face, but his strength far surpasses yours. So instead, you pressed your lips into the back of your hand. Denying him the privilege to hear your moans.

This must’ve displeased him greatly, as the next thing you knew he broke from his steady tempo, and his soft lips enclosed around your sensitive clit. Alhaitham’s tongue was now accompanied by the suction of his mouth, torturing your poor little bundle. Slurping and sloppy wet flicks bounced off the thin walls. Hot flashes shot up your legs as your toes curled, a moan was fighting its way past your teeth.

He changed his pace once more. Now intertwining deep laps of your leaking hole with the overwhelming attention on your now swollen clit. Your honey was dripping down his chin as he continued his efforts. Your legs were trembling now, unable to give any resistance against his domineering hold. Thus, allowing him to slip one hand between, two long fingers stretching out your gummy walls. Prodding their way through the tight warm hole, mapping out their way to that special spongey patch.

Your teeth wouldn’t hold back the moan any longer. Back arching off the messy sheets, the internal and external pleasure created a maddening duo, pushing your sanity off the edge. Your vision when white was your body shook, nonsense babbling out of your lips. Alhaitham gave your pulsing clit a few more slick licks before pressing a sweet kiss against it.

His towering frame got up from the floor to loom over your recovering body. Teal eyes observing every twitch and shiver of your sloppy face. Soon his face descended closer, this time you were the quick one. Snapping your head to the side. Denying him a kiss, lest those mushy emotions bubble up during this moment. Alhaitham stills, he says nothing, just letting his warm breath fan across your face.

He got the message. Pulling away to give space between your lips, he searches his back pocket for a condom. Even with your bodies connected. There was still a line deeply etched into the sand, separating the two of you.

–

Once again you woke up before him. Once again you slipped out of his embrace. Ocne more his arms gave no protest. Another journey to the gym.

One time turned into two times, two times turned into… you lost count at this point. However, it would simply be a waste of time to think too deeply about it. It’s Alhaitham after all, that man would never bother with activities that waste his time. If it doesn’t serve to benefit in any way, he’d be the first to drop it, what an objective guy he is.

The two of you were still young professionals with a lot of steam to let off. A familiar face of convenience to destress and feel the wisp of comfort from another warm body in this cold world. This is what’s become of the pile of ashes from a once beautiful bridge.

The back of your head hit against the brick wall supporting your body. Another rejection, this time you made it all the way to the semi-finals. Alas, from behind a curtain, the panel of judges deemed you unworthy of playing in their esteemed orchestra. Your aching fingers dug into your palms, hoping that the pain would distract from the burning sting welling up in your eyes.

The pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of dreams were more similar to each other than what great scholars of the nation of wisdom cared to admit.

They were the shining light that broke through the murky uncertainly of life, beckoning stray souls towards them. Those lost in the labyrinth of reality desperately seek to walk the path illuminated by their glow.

In the end, knowledge and dreams were like the sun’s warm rays shining through the leaves of a tree. No matter how many times your hands reach for and grab, you can never hold them.

The multiple part-time jobs you juggled between your college courses taught you the most valuable lesson no lecture ever could: Dreams cost money, and so did rent, and so did food, and so did utilities.

Scornfully, you had to tack on extra courses to your piano major, a witless minor in business administration. It stings your pride to this day to attribute your current steady stream of income to that last-minute academic decision.

It stung because, in the end, Alhaitham’s prediction was correct. Regardless of if one was a natural or artificial prodigy like you. Even the brightest and most dedicated musicians aren’t guaranteed a career, degree or not. Perhaps, this truth that you’ve come to terms with was the water that smothered the flame of anger. Leaving behind the defeated wisps of regret and embarrassment.

Of course Alhaitham was right, he always is.

There was a chime from the store door opening up beside you. A certain ashen-haired man walked out with a bouquet of Sumeru roses in hand. ‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

You quickly adverted your gaze, but it was useless as he had already taken note of your presence. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Deciding to take control of the conversation before anything starts.

“I don’t have a show tonight.” Referring to the bouquet in his hands.

“I’m aware. I was going to visit my grandmother today.” His deep voice drummed.

Oh. You wanted the archons to strike you down at this very moment. Stupid, why did you assume such things? There’s nothing but a tightrope formed by virtue of convenience connecting your paths. Just what were you hoping for? Your cheeks were now burning with shame.

“Would you like to come with me?” His calm tone beckons you out of your thoughts.

At this rate, how could you refuse? Perhaps it was due to the surmounting weight of guilt and embarrassment. But a part of you also knows it’s because you missed her. So you followed Alhaitham to his car, buckling yourself in and opening your arms, offering to carry the flowers. The car ride was silent the whole time.

Alhaitham’s grandmother always looked at you with those tender warm eyes of hers. Extending out a warm hand to comb through your locks in exchange for every song you’d play for her. She was the only voice that offered your impoverished heart any words of encouragement.

Words that brought an inkling of warmth from the icy stares of your parents.

–

The final note echoed throughout the common area of the hospital. Applause could be heard from the few patients attending your impromptu concert. However, your attention was focused all on the soft smile of the frail woman in the wheelchair beside you. Her thin, wrinkled hands clapped together.

Jokingly you gave a dramatic bow from your sitting position at the piano bench, earning a gentle chuckle from her.

“Oh, what a lovely performance by the loveliest girl.” A hand reached out towards you.

You swiftly bowed your head under her palm, allowing her fingers to rest against your scalp. Gently she began to stroke your head, making a wide smile stretch your cheeks. Your heart’s weekly dose of encouragement. However, this tender moment was broken by the vibrations of your phone. Your eyes quickly scanned the name of the caller.

Oh, it was your tutor, you skipped your lessons once more in favor of visiting the Bimarstan.

The woman beside you takes note of this and lets out a huff.

“You’re already plenty smart. I don’t understand why your parents insist on such endeavors.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her the hours of tutoring and cram schools you sandwiched between your demanding schedule was due to the idolization of her grandson. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his.

It was yours, for not being to stand on equal footing with the prodigy Alhaitham. You pressed your lips sealed. This detail didn’t escape her aging eyes. She shifted her attention to the sheet music propped up on the stand.

“Do you know the story behind Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro?”

You tilted your head to the side, you’ve never researched any piece in depth before. Reading your answer from this action, the old lady continued.

“It was written for quite a famous play. A story and message that caused waves through society at the time. A story about servants rebelling against their masters, taking fate into their own hands.” Her warm eyes gave you a knowing look.

“That is why it’s my favorite song from Mozart.”

“Oh? Then I’ll play it for you again. As many times as you want.” The smile returned to your face.

You never thought that the next time you’d ever play that song would be at her funeral. Fellow professors and colleagues dressed in black filled the room of the wake, paying their respects to her and their condolences to the young man beside you.

What an awful transition into adulthood Alhaitham had.

Tears streamed down your face, dripping onto the marble floor. Peering at the face of your dearest friend, his cheeks were dry.

By the time the sky began to turn its brilliant pink and orange hues, the attendees had all funneled out of the room. Your parents were the first ones to leave, but you stayed firmly by Alhaitham’s side. It was only you, him, and the casket in the room now.

She wanted a private burial, thus the staff informed you that they’ll begin the process soon. However, before they did, you wanted to play her favorite song one last time. Your send-off for her.

Sitting down at the sleek black piano provided by the funeral home, you took a deep breath. Alhaitham takes his place next to you on the bench, with his back facing the piano you couldn’t see his face.

The bright tones of this joyful song resounding through the room harshly contrasted the somber mood. But you continued playing regardless, fingers never skipping a note nor compromising the tempo.

Alhaitham’s head found its way on your shoulder, the weight slightly interfering with your range of motion. However, you didn’t say anything and never stopped playing. The bright melody comforting two grieving souls.

–

The last memories you had of her resurfacing as he places the flowers down at her grave. The tombstone is still as clean and polished as the day it was inlaid into the ground. A testament to the diligence of her grandson, the only family she left behind.

Today was the first time the day didn’t end with a trip to your bed. The mood was inappropriate for such things.

Just two souls quietly reminiscing about the things that are now gone. As it was, it shall never be again.

If his colleagues were to ever discover the current predicament the raising secretary of the company was in, they’d either dismiss it or laugh at him. How unthinkable. The phlegmatic man whose hands always held the reins of control, reduced to such a complacent fool? The desert would freeze over before any of them would ever believe such a thing.

However, Alhaitham didn’t need to justify his actions to anyone. The ashen-haired man already knew the reason behind his actions. He’s known for quite a while now. He holds his convictions firmly and will walk through hell with them.

–

Sitting down in a private study room provided by the university, a senior was currently wallowing in an irrelevant emotion. Alhaihtam knows the name, it’s grief.

Of course, it’s depressing to lose a familiar face, a person who stood by your side throughout your developmental years. However, you were still alive. Why is he grieving over a person who’s still healthy and breathing? Questions unrelated to his thesis plagued his thoughts as his paper remained untouched on the desk.

Teal irises scan the stack of books he had piled to the side. Perhaps he should review some of the material to refresh his mind about his thesis on the consequences of unrecorded words.

Picking a random psychology journal from the mound, this book could hold the answers to why his thoughts are redundant. Alhaitham began his quest for an epiphany.

The student’s experienced eyes scanned through the text, noting details that could potentially support his points. It’s not a surprise that psychology and etymology go hand in hand, after all, words were born out of human thought and the need to communicate them.

This journal was only scratching at the ceiling that prevented him from crossing into the territory of true understanding. It frustrated him.

Disdainfully scrutinizing the text further, running through each passage over and over, until he finally reads the first line of the final page:

“Psychology as a science has its limitations, and, as the logical consequence of theology is mysticism, so the ultimate consequence of psychology is love.”

The student finally closes the covers of the book, it had served its purpose.

No matter how many times his thoughts circled back, searching for correlations and different conclusions from figurative pinpoints. Alhaitham knew in the end, they were all just excuses.

Love is illogical by nature, an unexplainable consequence of human thought. A fever which comes and goes independently of the will. Maybe, the true explanation of love has been lost to time, the unwritten words that belonged in the spaces between the script printed in preserved texts.

So Alhaitham will understand his limits now. It matters not if he understands the origins of love or language or words. All that mattered to him is that he understands now: He was in love. A diagnosis and truth that came years too late. With this revelation quelling his thoughts, he finished his thesis.

Acceptance, the last stage of grief.

–

‘This is unhealthy’ a voice in his mind chastised. Alhaitham didn’t feel the need to defend his current actions, because the voice was right. This is unhealthy. Teal eyes concealed the running thoughts in his head, watching the raising and falling of your chest.

After all these years you reappeared in front of him. The ashen-haired man knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Even though it was made from a rope of thorns, he still grabbed onto it.

For now, he shall set aside his pride, his hubris. Sex was the only time you would willingly approach him. Alhaitham was more than willing to exchange his body for the privilege of being close to you once more. A fair trade in his mind.

‘If you love something set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be.’

The stoic man is sure the saying would disagree with his tampering. Like setting a songbird free, only to lure it back into his hands with the irresistible treat of pleasure. It was all he could do. Alhaitham knew that cruelly grasping at the songbird will only snap the fragile tightrope that connected your paths.

After all, you had fled the hated cage of your childhood home the moment the door was left open. He already decided he won’t do that to you.

Instead, he’ll keep holding out his hand, palms wide open, waiting for you to come back to taste the pleasure he offers you time after time again.

You were laying on his chest, sleep drenched every fiber of your being, heart vibrating steadily against his own.

It’s a paradox, how can your body be so close but your heart still so far away?

The desire for sleep outweighed his lust for answers. Or it could be that he already knew, he was just delaying the thought for the morning. His heavy lids closed.

When they open again in the morning, he knows they’ll be greeted by the sight of an empty bed. He knows the sheets that hold your lingering scent will be cold. He knows he will be left alone in your apartment.

Alhaitham knows, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The Sumeru Grand Orchestra, the golden ticket for any musician. Status, recognition, and generous paychecks. When the auditions were first announced you were one of the first to jump at the opportunity, and so did everyone else, flooding the application sites, but you were able to secure a number: 211.

Weeks in advance on a muted keyboard you practiced every classical piece you could, sharpening your sightreading senses. You were led into the waiting room with all the other aspiring musicians, it was now a game of survival.

You made it to the final round. It’s been five hours since you last left the palatial concert hall where the auditions were held. The one cramped room was now a motionless void, mutterings of prayers to any archon that would listen whispered through the thick air.

“Number 211.”

You were the lamb up for slaughter. The audition piece that was placed into your hand half an hour ago crumbled under the force of your tense grip. The proctor closed the door behind you, stealing off your path of escape as they led you through the labyrinth. At the end of the tunnel, you were greeted by the harsh stage lights glaring off the grand piano.

The curtains that once shielded you from the captious glares of the judges were gone. All of you laid out clearly on the stage. Your fate is balanced on the tips of their immaculate pens. The minuscule tremble of your hands couldn’t escape their hawk eyes.

Chin up and shoulders back, you strolled across the polished wooden planks, settling down at the matte black piano, it was like staring into the abyss.

Taking a deep breath, you signaled the start. Fingers danced along the ivory keys in accordance with the notes memorized. This stanza was from Meditation from Thais, the hypnotic theme filling the empty concert hall.

It’s been a while since you hear your own playing resounded out through such a place. However, this was a turning point a chance to take fate into your own hands.

To once again stand under the warm lights and bow to an audience enamored by your music. For the songbird to fly free from it’s grey sterile cubical.

“Stop.” A cold voice struck the fragile wings of a bird in flight.

You did as you were ordered, even before your mind even registered the words. Oh no, you weren’t finished, you didn’t get to complete this round.

“Number 211 is disqualified. The playing is soulless, empty notes that just echo off the walls.”

–

Soulless. Huh, you’ve never been told that before. Raindrops landed into your unblinking eyes as they observed the darkening sky. Was nature taking pity on you too? Crying for you when your tear ducts were still frozen in shock? You let the cold droplets trail down your cheek. Around you, the crowd dressed in suits and ties walked passed the scene of a death.

The death of your dreams.

You used up one of your precious sick days to attend this audition, but now it might no longer be just an excuse. You couldn’t feel anything but the sharp shards of shattered hope gouging into your back. Staring up at the gray sky from the deep, cold well of your misery.

When did this happen? When did the bright fire fizzle out? When did your passion die?

A sorry excuse of a laugh slipped out. No, it might be accurate to say that there was never a passion in the first place, something nonexistent cannot die. Something nonexistent cannot be created even if the haze of a fever dream might say otherwise. Now that the rain had washed away that haze, you could now clearly see the void.

Did you really like the piano? Or was it a lie engrained into your flesh by stern hands?

Maybe the judges were right, your playing was soulless, pieces only ever practiced for technical perfection. Talent meticulously crafted by grueling long hours. Fingers that separated your beating heart from the inanimate black and white keys. In the end, you were an artificial prodigy, with an artificial passion that quickly denigrated under the droplets of calm rain.

“You’re soaked.” A baritone voice resounded behind you as a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders.

Alhaitham had just gotten off the clock, exiting the grand sliding doors only to spot your listless figure standing as an obstacle for the weaving crowd of the city. However, you kept staring at the dull sky, uncaring about how your wet clothes clung to your shivering figure. You didn’t even seem to perceive his words.

“You’re going to get sick.” Two warm hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, guiding your body to a secluded area, away from the crowd and rain.

This motion jostled your eyes, allowing them to read the company name proudly displayed on the front of the towering skyscraper. Was this the future you had gambled away for a false path shown to you by a dream? A steady job, good savings benefits, and prospective increases in income. All the chips you had pushed into the center of the table as you drew dud cards.

You shifted your eyes away from the imposing letters and connected with teal-orange irises. Was his mask of indifference hiding his smug satisfaction that his prediction was correct? Was he holding back an ‘I told you so’? The bitter whispers of a green-eyed devil tickled against the shell of your ear.

“Come, I’ll drive you home.”

No, you can’t go back to your abysmal apartment. You couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the sight of your reality. The messy bedroom, the music sheets scattered all across the cluttered living room, the mocking keyboard pressed up against a corner. If you were to step foot back in there, you’ll disappear under the murky waters in the ocean called ‘regret’.

Your trembling hands grounded themselves in the crisp button-down, crumbling the fabric against Alhaitham’s smooth skin. No words could travel past your vocal cords, throat numb to move. All you could do was shake your hang head from side to side. You could feel the ashen-haired man take a deep breath, his mind quickly forming an alternative plan.

“Come with me.” Large hands gently untangling your fingers from his clothes.

–

Those same gentle hands were now rubbing a fresh towel through your dripping hair, soaking up the excess water that had been trailing droplets down your skin. His house was quiet, no rumbling of car engines from the streets, no loud gurgling pipes, no thumping footsteps. Still and serene, only allowing the soft pattering of rain kissing the ground and windows.

Alhaitham hasn’t spoken a single word to you ever since he welcomed you into his home and sat you down.

As Alhaitham continued with his efforts to warm your shivering body, all you could do was observe the spotless wooden floors. They were so polished and lustrous… just like the grandiose stage.

Something vile was creeping up your neck, slowly making its way up to the falling sanctuary of your mind. No, you needed to push it back, you needed to distract it. To buy you some time before the vileness consumes you wholly.

Hopeless hands trailed up the toned arms of the man currently drying your hair, making his movements stop. You took this opportunity to shift your body so that it pressed against his, the dampness of your clothes transferring to his. Ah, it must be uncomfortable for him.

Clumsily, you began to undo the neat buttons of his button-down, only for your hands to be enclosed within a delicate grip. You could feel the weight of his condemnatory gaze upon you, teal eyes observing your movements as if he was calculating his next move.

There wasn’t any time for contemplation. The bitter bile thoughts were quickly encroaching on their destination. With your hands immobilized you used your mouth instead, nuzzling into the skin that peeked through the unopened portion.

You could feel the small shiver of his warm body reacting to your cold cheek. Alhaitham lets out a deep sigh, hot breath fanning over the top of your head. He got the message.

Your soaked dress was pulled over your head, heavy black fabric falling to the side of the bed in which you lay now. The sheets providing your shivering body with softness and a semblance of warmth. Alhaitham presses tender kisses down the nape of your neck, stopping between the valley of your breast to push your body further up the bed.

Larger hands ran along the length of your legs, as if to warm them up with the slow friction. Your legs gave no resistance as he places one over his shoulder, lips brushing against your knee.

You let out a small sigh, the skin-on-skin contact was just what your frozen body needed. Your body twisted further into his sheets, your other leg pressed against the back of his hip as if to spur him to hasten his pace. However, Alhaitham, being the steadfast man he is, ignored your neediness and continued to trail kisses down your soft skin. His mouth ended his journey with a slow and deep lap at your clit, causing your body to jolt.

“Mmm.”

Your skin has thawed, every nerve now acutely aware of each slow lick his wet tongue brushed against your sensitive bud. You no longer had any pride to uphold, thus moans just freely flowed out of your mouth just as how slick dripped from your aching hole. Once more you dug your heel into him, your neglected walls yearning for attention.

This time he was merciful, running one thick finger along the slick pooling between your folds. Gathering up the dew and tracing small circles along the entrance.

A whine followed, you twisted even more along the tussled sheets, reaching a hand down to tangle into his ashen locks. Alhaitham gave you want you wanted, slowly his thick finger was welcomed into your eager walls as his tongue continued to play with your clit. Your head was thrown back, heavy pants fogging up the room in the air, lidden eyes barely anything but the back of your head.

Another finger was soon added, stretching out your leaking hole only leaving your gummy walls craving more. A few soft kisses were pressed against your now twitching bud, before his skilled tongue took over for the final push toward nirvana. With practiced precision his fingers swiftly pressed against that spongey patch, making white flames shoot up your spine. Your quivering legs and curling toes didn’t faze Alhaitham in the slightest.

“OH!”

With a firm tug to ashen locks and one final flick to your swollen clit, your eyes meet the back of your head, a stretched moan bounced off the walls. Back arched almost painfully off the bed, Alhaitham continued the slow thrust of his soaked fingers into your contracting hole. As you rode the waves of pleasure back down, Alhaitham finally detaches his lips from your cunt, a slick trail connecting them.

The burning between your legs didn’t stop. You needed more, legs wrapping around his muscular torso, urging him to give you more. His self-control all but turns into dust in your presence. There’s not a plausible scenario where he could ever deny you. Finally, his leaking member can have its turn.

Fighting against the restraints of your legs, Alhaitham was able to pull the condom over his full length. Your hole jolted with joy the moment it felt his fat tip pressing up against your entrance. The slow circling before he finally sunk in, in an instant your walls clung onto every inch he pushed in, thanking him with pulsing contractions.

He sucked in a long hiss from how your warm, slick walls perfectly hugged him. You let your tongue loll out with a deep moan, legs pulling his body closer so that your arms could find purchase around his broad shoulders.

His pace was slow and deep, warming your walls up so as to not hurt the delicate you. This greatly displeased you, evident by how your nails dug into the solid muscle of his shoulders. You need it fast, you wanted it deep, you wanted him to pound those bitter thoughts away with his thick member. Two hands clasped around your hips, snapping your body tightly against his. He’ll grant your request.

“Ah! Ah! AH!”

His merciless pace had your breast bouncing and incomprehensible words babbling out of your lips. Heavy cock dragging out along your grasping walls, then slamming his hips harshly against your sobbing cunt. Every punishing thrust was welcomed by your slick walls thanking him. His heavy pants fanned across your ear as he continued this ruthless speed.

Your body was now burning, precipitation hanging heavy in the air, yet you still arched your back off the bed to chase after his warmth. Bodies entangled in a mess of limbs in an animalistic chase after pleasure and orgasm.

The wet noises of your weeping hole welcoming him back in over and over again. In between the heavy slaps of his balls against your sloppy cunt and thick tip bullying your poor spot, you could feel the deep vibrations in his chest.

“Look at me.” You felt him pull away just a bit so he could have a clear view of your loose face.

You didn’t want to. Lest his searching teal eyes discover the truth of why you pulled him into bed, to give him the satisfaction. You squeezed your lids closed. The particularly deep thrust he snapped displayed his displeasure at your actions.

“Please.” The unfamiliar words coming from his mouth made your eyes wide again. The tone is gentle.

So, with your resolve weakened, you finally connected with his gaze. What was that look in his eyes? It was too soft to be malice, too calm to be anger, too tender to just be lust. Yet your pleasure-melted brain couldn’t process it.

In gratitude for you granting his wish, his thumb found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing deep circles into the sensitive nerve. You pressed yourself impossibly hard against his body, walls clamping down on his thick member.

His actions made the knot inside your stomach pull against itself taught until the treads of sanity snapped. Even though your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, all you could see was the blinding white light of cloud nine. Your walls clamped down around him like a vise, snug walls now binding his length. Alhaitham clenches his jaw, stoic face twisted in the throws of pleasure as he spills himself into the barrier deep within.

Long fingers painting the sides of your hips red as he recomposes himself. Chest heaving from the exertion. He helps himself to a few more slow thrusts in your gummy walls, riding out his own orgasm even as his red tip teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your soft thighs still entrapping his towering frame. It looks like you still haven’t come down yet.

Alhaitham’s hand gently cupped your messy face. Your lips were off limits, so he shall kiss those bitter tears away from your eyes instead.

Like always you woke up before Alhaitham again. However, this time you couldn’t bear to look at his face. Was this out of embarrassment, shame, or guilt? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

Unwrapping his arms from around your waist, you hobbled towards the clack lump of your dress. The fabric was still ever so slightly damp, ah, the sensation against your skin made the bitter bile restart its journey again.

You couldn’t help the envy that bubbled up in your system as you observed the spacious halls of Alhaitham’s house. Footsteps softly tap along the polished wood floors so as not to awaken the sleeping homeowner.

Of course, he has a nice house in the most upscale neighborhood. Of course, it's located in a quiet suburb a commutable distance away from the raucous city. Of course, it has nice big windows and expensive dark wood furnishings.

Of course. Of course. Of course. It’s because he’s Alhaitham. He’s got everything.

Your face scrunched up as bitterness crept up from the back of your tongue. It wasn’t from the bitter waters of regret, no, it was from a certain green-eyed creature. You needed to leave this house as soon as possible before you did something foolish.

You dug your hand into your purse for your phone, ready to call a lift back to your shabby apartment. It was all becoming too much. Just at the end of the hall, you could spot the solid oak doors that blocked off the outside world. Get out of this cage and breathe the fresh air.

You no longer cared about the noise your steps were making, thumps echoed throughout the halls frantically carrying you toward the shiny knob. A shaky hand grasped onto the cold smooth metal, ready to twist the deadbolt free. A glimmer of white coming from the side room caught your eye, reeling it back from its tunnel vision. Your head couldn’t help but follow.

It was a grand piano.

His former roommate was right, the white lacquer finish on the piano contrasted harshly against the dark wood bookshelves. It really did look out of place, taking up too much space in the side library. The dark walnut wood piano seat looked odd next to it as well.

The viridescent seat cushion looked a bit worn as if it had been sat in regularly. Still, the pearly finish that reflected the morning rays beckoned you closer, the sense of nostalgia growing stronger with each step.

It looked exactly like your old piano, your most cherished treasure that had been plundered from you so long ago. Trembling hands ran along the glossy fallboard, not a speck of dust was found along the paths of your fingers. You caught sight of the gold lettering inscribed along the front, it was even the same brand.

The pull of intrigue was too great, you had to know, but do you dare? Why are you lifting your hopes up so high? Have you not learned your lesson after being dropped over and over again onto the cold pavement of disappointment below? Maybe you were some type of masochist. Just like Schrodinger’s cat, you can’t confirm if those hopes were dead or alive until you opened the lid.

A resounding creek rang out from the protesting hinges, the lacquered lid heavy as if trying to conceal the truth away from your searching eyes. But your determination beat out any old hinges, lifting the heavy top above your head. Your breathing halted.

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

It was written clear as day on the naked wood concealed by the glossy outer casing. Clumsy letters scribbled in harsh black permanent marker. The proof of authenticity. This is your treasured piano.

Your arm lost all strength, the heavy lid slammed down reverberating all the strings and hammers in a chaotic symphony of shock. The clashing vibrations pierced your ears, causing the ringing that was now the background music to the realization crashing down upon you.

All this time, Alhaitham stayed himself. His unfazed individuality moved through life to the metronome of his own heart. Like a firm apple tree whose roots held the ground below him together. The fruits of his labor dropping down to satiate a heart hungry for encouragement.

The shiny red fruits were given at every meeting, in exchange for every CD and performance attended. All this time, he never once looked at you with pity nor disdain. He treasured you.

And what have you given in return? You participated in gossip behind his back. You looked at him with the same prejudice you promised to defend him from. You broke your promises to him. You lied to him. You used him, even down to his physical body to further your own self-interests.

When did the whispers of a green-eyed monster turn you into that selfish child from the storybook?

If your past self was there to witness the scene in front of her, she’d be appalled. She’d beat you with hatred at the torment you put her beloved friend through. Yes, she’d hate you. You hate you. You’ve never hated yourself more.

How could you do this to him? You really are your parent’s child. You never considered how the shrapnel of consequences from your actions would wound those close by.

You couldn’t even look at the reflection staring back at you from the polished white surface, her eyes stared back at you with malice. You were a selfish traitor.

Too self-absorbed in your own wallowing to notice the slow steps approaching from down the hallway. Alhaitham’s steps were slow as he stared at the back of your figure. Like a watcher trying not to startle a resting songbird. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, making sure he wasn’t just looking at the afterimage of a person who had long left the house.

A small creak was all it took for your head to snap toward his approaching figure. Eyes wide and shaking. Alhaitham made sure to stop a arms length away as he accesses the situation. It looks like you’ve discovered his small secret. A fragment of the past that he relentlessly searched for, the only time he ever asked anything of your parents. He planned to return it to you one day.

You looked like you could collapse at any moment, so Alhaitham held out his hand, palms open and awaiting. You reached a quivering hand out, pulling back slightly a few times before finally landing. Your fingers clasped onto each other, you drew closer to his board figure until your forehead was resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look at his face.

He made no further moves.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.” Your mouth couldn’t stop spewing the regrets deep from your heart.

Even though you were apologizing, you didn’t want him to forgive you. You couldn’t even forgive yourself, how could he? It would be easier if he just hated you. If he were to just say ‘I hate you’ right now with that stoic voice of his, you could die peacefully. The best end that you deserved. You could feel the wet spots forming on his shirt from your tears.

“I won’t forgive you.” The vibrations from his deep voice were felt against you.

Four words cut into you deeper than any knife ever could. But you deserved this pain. Your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth, on the verge of splitting open from how hard you were biting back your cries. You didn’t deserve to cry.

“Not until you play Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro.”

Those words halted your breathing. Like a rope that’s been thrown down the dark well you were wallowing in. Will your hands reach out and grasp onto this opportunity? Slowly you lifted your gaze up. Something behind the calm teal of his eyes was egging you on to do so, to take a hold of the lifeline thrown down from the bright sky.

“… Of course.” You let go of him.

Moving back over to your grand piano. Lifting the smaller section of the lid first this time placing it gently back on the larger section, allowing the music rack to appear. Setting up the notches into position, you then lifted the heavy back lid up. Placing the prop up this time so as to not put your piano through the same chaos again.

Finally, the dustfree fallboard was lifted up, revealing the keyboards that held the faint imprints of history. You settled your self-down at the bench, your hands hesitantly reaching out only for your fingers to retract the moment your soft tips brushed against the smooth ivory. The bitter shame of failure scorching your delicate senses.

Inhaling a deep breath, you turned to face Alhaitham reconnecting with his teal gaze as he stayed in place. A silent plead. With quiet steps, he approaches closer to the bench, the wooden protested under the added weight. Two bodys not touching, facing in opposite directions. Ah, just like a familiar scene from many years ago.

Once more, you attempted to reach out your fingers, emboldened by the soothing body heat of the man besides you. Placing your fingers back into position, the scorning of your finger tips becoming irrelevant. Lulling you to return back into the blackness of your sanctuary of mind. Recalling the song that symbolized a period of great change, wonderful change.

The pressed keys played their notes, the hammers inside your piano striking against the string. Ringing out the awful tones of stings that have gone out of tune from years of unuse. Even if it stung you ears and his the same, you continued to play the chipper overture. The bitter bile fizzling out like sea form, as laughter tickled the inside of your throat.

“It sounds terrible.” You giggled honestly.

“Mm. I’m not all that familiar with performance etiquette, but I’m certain talking during a show is bad manners.” There was no bit to his words. You couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smile.

Two hearts now closer than previously, became the metronome for the off-key rendition of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, accompanied by the bright giggles of the pianist and the content sigh of her audience. Outside the window, a songbird chirps to greet the beautiful sun that resurfaced after a day of rain.

He absolutely adores you, he always has. He knows that you know now. But he also knows that you weren’t ready to hear it. The weight of three small words would be enough to topple the stability of your consciousness. It wasn’t strong enough to handle them, not after the mangling hands of guilt and regret vandalized it.

So he won’t say those three words, not yet, not until you’ve repaired your cracking foundations. Alhaitham will wait to tell you ‘I love you’. Like a patient tree standing on the hill biding its time for the return of a beloved creature.

Fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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bettysupremacy · 8 months

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omg I have an idea (you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to) and I have to put it somewhere.

so rafe is this like super mean, big guy right? wrong. imagine r touching him and he just freaks out because ??the love of his life is touching him?? and r just giggles bc of the effect they have on him

This is suchhhhh a cute idea!! i ❤️ rafe. I hope you like this!! I don’t know if he did much freaking out, but she does much loving on him.

“I told him forty.” Rafe grumbles, fumbling with a pack of camels. His big hands rip at the new packaging frustratedly. He gives up and uses his teeth.

Topper winces. “That’s what told him.”

“So what’s the fuckin problem.” Rafe looks up, spitting plastic.

His knee bounces under the white country club table. “He wants a discount.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know,” he breathes. “So I told him,”

“You’re not giving him a discount.”

Topper laughs nervously. “If you’d let me finish-“

“He’s gotta perfect amount of his mommy’s money to be spending on drugs.”

“Exactly-“

“You don’t give figure eight kids discounts.”

“Rafe,” Topper starts, frustrated with his lack of sentence.

“Rafe!” Your voice echos outside the private room excitedly at the same time. He sits straighter, smile fighting his face at the shriek of his name. Toppers still here. Rafe’s stoic.

Top sighs exasperatedly, leaning back in his chair. He’s not finishing that sentence.

The door flings open, your hand tight on the fancy handle. “Rafe.” You bounce. He watches greedily over you, this doesn’t deter you. “Guess what.”

“You’ve waited too long to give me my hello kiss?” He taps his pen against his thigh, elbows resting on the chair.

“No, silly,” You laugh, airily walking over to him to plant a kiss on his cheek. He swerves, smiling against your lips instead, reveling in your laugh as you pull away. His arms wrap under your butt. “Sarah’s having a party tonight.”

Tops eyes flit up curiously.

“What?” Rafe’s face drops.

You squeal. “We have to go.”

“It’s my house too, babe, I think I’ll be there against my will.” His eyes flit to Topper.

“Not at your house.” You pout, pushing his hair back. His eyes fight against fluttering closed. “Joint party, Scarlett’s house.”

“Oh, we’re not going.” He decides, squeezing the flesh of the back of your thigh.

“What,” Topper laments, no mind of his own. If Rafe’s not going, obviously he can’t go. You both ignore him.

“Please, Rafe.” You whine, E’s extended longer than Top thinks necessary. You walk behind him to grip his shoulders.

He short circuits. You’re warm behind him, the perfume you spritzed this morning making its way to his nose. You knead your fingers into his back. Digging into the tense muscle he tries so hard to relax around you.

“Baby,” He grumbles, wary of your hands on his shoulder. “That shit’ll be so lame.”

You sigh working deeper into his muscle. “You know I love Sarah.” Then afterthought. “And Scarlett.”

He holds back a noise at your thumbs pressing into his back. Grabbing your wrist, his warm fingers press into the tender skin they find.

“Can’t see you.” He murmurs.

You round the chair, sitting on his lap. His arms wrap around you heavily and securely. He bounces his knee a couple times as you brush hair out of eyes, both wary of Top three feet away. “Better?”

He grunts a nod, smiling at you brilliantly. “So much.”

Your hands card through his hair, raking gently against his scalp. His hair is soft, clean, the smell of his shampoo hitting you easily. You tug, gently, his hair back, till he’s looking up at you lazily.

“You know you have hazel in your eyes?”

His demeanor changes. “Stop.”

“Im serious,” You laugh, head tilting to the side to eye Topper. “Someone’s cranky.”

“I am not cranky.” Rafe scoffs, unable to bring your hands from his hair.

“Then play nice.” You whisper, cool air fanning Rafe’s face. “Let’s go to the party.”

He frowns, overly aware of your dancing fingers. “You know what you’re doing.”

“If loving on my sweet boyfriend was a crime-“ you start.

“Then you’d be in jail by now.” He finishes.

“Exactly!” You grin, leaning down to kiss his jaw. His eye twinkles. “Let me love on you in public.”

He scoffs softly, bouncing the knee you sit on. You squeak at the sudden movement, turning to laugh prettily in Toppers direction. He can’t help but to smile through his annoyance.

“What d’you think, Top?” Rafe sniffs at the way you’ve worked him.

“Well,” He starts in the shifty tone of his. “Uh, I think it’d be good-“

“He wants to see your sister.” You laugh.

“Y/N.” The younger boy glares pointedly across the table. “Seriously?”

“I don’t give a shit who Sarah’s doing this week.” He gruffs out. You push his shoulder.

“Be nice.” You whisper.

Rafe rolls his eyes, big hand splaying over your face and pushing away from him.

“Hey!” You muffle as he smiles.

“You wanna go?” He looks at Top.

“I guess.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

Rafe snorts at him. “Cool.” He lets up on your face. “We’ll go.”

“Yay!” You jump, wrapping your arms around him. He leans into the touch, uncaring of the company.

What a simp, Rafe sulks.

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 12 days

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Hi, would you write about a self conscious reader who is going through a crisis with accepting herself and reveals that to jason todd in an emotional state like the dramatic “i hate myself” thing. Kinda having a moment like that myself and i need to read something that i can identify with

Your door was shut when Jason got there. He could feel the emotional angst leaking through the door. It slid over him like ooze. Over his skin and down his throat.

But he forced himself to breathe. Like last night. If he focused, he could find the edges of what he was feeling and push your influence back. You weren't focused on him.

He exhaled slowly and knocked, waiting. "Y/N? It's Jason" No one was in the hall but somehow it felt like everyone was in the hall. The trouble with living in a house of nosey bitches.

A solenoid disengaged and he pushed the handle. Letting himself inside, leaving the door cracked. Mostly so you didn't feel trapped.

As soon as he stepped into the room, the atmosphere was crushing. Oppressive. A sensation of being cold and humid. Self hatred, grief, and shame. And he can feel you trying desperately to pull those feelings under the surface. Wrestle them into submission.

Sweat prickling on your forehead from the effort.

"You should probably go," you manage.

Jason winces and takes a deep breath, forcing himself into a state of calm. Remembering how he deals with scared little kids and abuse victims. "What can I do?" he asked softly, moving closer. Below you, out your window you're watching everyone else. In the sun and playing outside. Shaking off the night-terrors you'd given them and the stress of patrol with water guns and slips and slides- a home made water park around the pool. Christ. It's no wonder you hate yourself.

"I'm fine. I just. I just-" Your voice is rough with unshed tears and when you break off, resting your head against the glass, Jason smiles a little.

"Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional," he chuckled. "We've all been there. You're just a little more obvious about it."

You make a soft miserable noise and he shakes his head, "No one wants you to stay away, "he murmured, changing tack. "Bruce gives us nightmares all the time. Ask Dick about his party hard days some time. His nudes got "leaked" once as a distraction when I was a kid and all the girls had them. It was gross."

When you huff a soft laugh, he nods towards your book shelf, "Not a lot of heavy lifting going on there," he teased, referencing the romances and young adult novels- a fair number of children's classics he noticed.

"I like happy endings," you murmur. "I don't- I just get overwhelmed. I get tired of being a monster."

Jason nodded. He didn't want to tease you for your books anymore. "You're not a monster, Y/N," he whispered. He'd spent a lot of time watching you. You offered kindness in a hundred different ways. Doing little things to help Alfred. Taking odd shifts for Barbara. Refilling Tim's water. Stocking gear. Taking time to just chill with Cass... he'd probably missed a lot of details. But a monster wouldn't do that.

"I feel like one. All the time. I feel like I'd be better off dead. Like if they would have been too late-"

"If they would have been too late, it would have been for nothing," Jason said, wiping tears off your cheeks tenderly as he knelt to cradle your face in his hands. "Those bastards that hurt you are monsters. You were a baby."

You don't meet his eyes but he can feel pain. A deep fissure that never healed. Like a wound that needed packed and never got it. Rotting and festering this whole time. Inflamed and ready to send you recoiling at the lightest touch. "Got a favorite happy ending?" he asked. "I'll read it to you if you want-"

"Aren't you an Austen snob?"

"Please. As if I could get away without reading at least a couple of Alfred's trashy Romance novels. Some of them are charming... a couple are even pretty decent writing. As long as they don't spend too much time describing the dude's cock."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #science experiment!reverse

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prefer-to-be-vilified · 1 year

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Wednesday: Enid, you’re not allowed to go outside unsupervised.

Enid: But I want to go to the Weathervane.

Wednesday: If I let you walk to Jericho by yourself and a stranger pulls up in a van will you promise me you won’t get in?

Enid: I promise.

Wednesday: What if he offers you a Reece’s cup?

Enid, without hesitation: I’m getting in the van.

Wednesday: You’re staying inside. I’ll take you to get coffee after my writing hour.

Enid: Noooooo, that will take forever. I won’t get in the van.

Wednesday: Even if he has a Reece’s cup?

Enid: Shit, he still has the Reece’s cup?

Wednesday: You’re a liability.

Enid: Okay, I’m sorry, I can do it. I promise I won’t get in the van even if he has a Reece’s cup.

Wednesday: Let’s role-play to practice what you should do in this scenario, if you do well I’ll let you go *clears throat* Hey kid do you want to get in my van?

Enid: Nope. My roommate said I wasn’t allowed to do that.

Wednesday: I have a Reece’s cup.

Enid: Pfft, I don’t—I don’t care. What are Reece’s cups? They sound disgusting.

Wednesday: I have two Reece’s cups.

Enid: TWO!?

Wednesday: And a KitKat.

Enid: *sad werewolf noises* I still don’t want to get in.

Wednesday: And a Snickers.

Enid: But I love Snickers.

Wednesday: Get in the van and it’s all yours.

Enid, whispering: Don’t tell Wednesday but I’m getting in.

Wednesday: I lied I don’t have any chocolate.

Enid: WHAT!?!

Wednesday, pulling out a knife: Now transform you savage dog. I’m going to skin you alive and make your pelt into a rug.

Enid, crying: …I’ll wait for you to finish your writing hour.

Wednesday: That’s what I thought.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #enid x wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday #incorrect wenclair #ptbv

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 8 months

Text

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 5: Forgotten

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your family gains new additions.

Hello! My sincere apologies for how long this took. I got massively sidetracked by researching how to bind a book, the interest in which hit at a completely inappropriate time in the writing-editing-crafting cycle, lol. I should definitely be focusing on finishing this thing before I start fixating on binding books. Anyway; this chapter is a little time-jumpy, given that I have to speed through a bunch of time. Also, note that I've fudged with the ages of Alicent's kids, so in Episode 3, know that she is now pregnant with Aemond, not Helaena like in the show. It's the only way to make him of-age in the Episode 8 scenes. Thank you to @randomdragonfires for workshopping this shitto for me, ahahaha! Happy (and well-deserved) holidays to my boobear @ewanmitchellcrumbs, who I have graciously given a night off of slaving away for me, lol.

TRIGGERS: continued discussion of child grief, Viserys's shenanigans in impregnating an underaged Alicent (canon, this is NOT MY ADDITION).

When Alicent gets married to Papa, they have a big ceremony. So so many people come from all over the kingdom to see Papa take a new Queen, and the days of the wedding—there are lots of days to them starting in marriage—are full of more noise and colour and movement than you could ever think was real.

Her dress is very pretty, and Papa looks very nice in his new coat, but neither of them look so happy as people who are going to be in marriage should be. Papa keeps playing with the ring on his finger that is from Mama, while Alicent just looks like she is afraid. You think it might be because of how loud everyone is being.

’Nyra isn’t happy, either. She keeps you on her lap the entire time with an angry look on her face and doesn’t speak to Alicent very much at all, but at least she tries to be kind when she does. She ignores Papa, and because you are all sitting at the high table and everyone is watching you, he cannot tell her she is being rude and naughty.

Because you don’t want to look at Alicent’s unhappy face or ’Nyra’s angry one, you play with your sister’s necklace, letting the shiny metal take all your attention. It is Valyrian steel, which is what Papa’s and Uncle’s swords are made out of, so it is very special. Uncle gave it to her. When you let your fingers swirl over the ruby in the middle of the big pendant over and over, you pretend that it’s a part of him and that he’s here, after all.

After the big ceremony is done, life goes back to almost-normal. Now that Alicent is Papa’s Queen, she is something called a stepmother, meaning that Brella and Septa and all the people who are made to look after you and ’Nyra have to talk to her about you both. She is like your mama. You wake up and break your fast with Alicent, and she cuts up your food instead of Mama, and she takes you outside to play and tells you about the names of the flowers. Then, when it is time to sleep again, she reads you a story. You think that she likes it very much because she always seems sad until she sees you, and then her face goes bright like the sun.

‘Nyra doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like it at all. When she learns that Alicent is acting like your mama, her face goes very red like she’s going to scream, but she just goes very quiet instead and storms out of your rooms. For that whole day, ’Nyra takes you to the gardens and to see Syrax and to the library to learn some more High Valyrian, her new sworn shield Ser Criston behind her all the time. She never once lets you go see Alicent to do the things you normally do. When you finally get to be in the room with her at suppertime with Papa and ’Nyra, which Papa has said you all must do now so that everyone can get along, all she does is give you a small smile that doesn’t make her eyes go bright like usual and ask about your big day with your sister.

That is how things are for a while. Either you will go through your days with Alicent or with ’Nyra, and never both in one day because ’Nyra is still so angry at Alicent for being in marriage with Papa. You keep asking why, but your sister doesn’t tell you anything. She just goes quiet and frowns and mutters things you cannot hear. Meanwhile, Alicent will always stop, take a big breath that sounds shaky when she lets it out, and say, “I have no quarrel with Rhaenyra. She is as welcome to my rooms and in my company as you are, Princess.”

You think that might be a lie.

One day, though, everything changes.

’Nyra decides to take you to the library so that you can look at more books in High Valyrian. Even the books written in the Common Tongue make no sense to you yet, and Brella told you this is because you are not old enough to learn reading properly. Still, your sister says that it is still good to try when you’re young, so she sits beside you and points out all the funny-looking symbols and tells you what they mean all together. You fall asleep in there instead of having a nap in your bed, but ’Nyra just puts a blanket over you and keeps reading. When you wake, you listen to her voice as she speaks the words from the pages aloud. You don’t understand all of it, but you think you’ve learned more and more since Mama died and she stopped being friends with Alicent. It means she has lots of time for you. Maybe that shouldn’t make you happy, but you cannot help it.

At supper, you see Lord Hightower, Alicent’s papa, beside her. That means that you have to be next to ’Nyra tonight, so you follow her to her side of the table and sit in the chair that the maid pulls out for you. The chair is higher than the others, made special so that you can reach the food that is put before you. Looking around, it is easy to tell that something is different from how happy Lord Hightower looks and how smiling Papa’s face is.

“My two daughters,” he says a bit too loudly, cheeks bright red. His cup is in front of him, and the gold shines red from the drink inside. Wine, you think. It is for men and women, not little girls, and it makes the people who drink it act strange like Papa is now. He waves his hand in a ‘hello’ as he lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a sip. “Ah!”

’Nyra starts eating her food without a word. Everyone has plates with different foods on it, but you have a bowl in front of your seat. Because you are small, the cooks always give you pottage for your supper so that you can eat it with a spoon and no one has to cut things up for you. You don’t always like it—there are lots of lumps and you can never tell what taste is going to be in your mouth with each bite—but it is warm and makes your tummy nice and full.

The room is full of the sounds of chewing and clack-clacking when the knives and forks hit the plates. You pick up your spoon and scoop up some food. There are dark bits, which means the cooks have put meat in it. You scrunch your nose.

Papa coughs between bites. He is still smiling a lot. “It seems like an age since I saw you last!”

“We had supper with you yesterday evening,” ’Nyra says.

“Ah, yes!” He takes another drink of his wine. Maybe he shouldn’t, because he is blinking very much like you do when you’re trying to stay awake. “Perhaps the waiting has made it seem longer.”

“Waiting?”

“I am sure you have noticed Otto’s presence by now.”

’Nyra doesn’t even look at the man. “My lord.” Her voice seems cold.

“Princess.” Lord Hightower bends his head, but he doesn’t sound very happy either.

Alicent puts her hand on Papa’s arm. ’Nyra watches so closely that you wonder if her eyes can make holes in other people’s skin. “I—we—have some news, Rhaenyra.”

“Oh?” She sounds bored.

“Well…”

When Alicent doesn’t say anything, ’Nyra makes a huffing noise. It is very rude. “Well?” she asks, looking between Alicent and Papa. “What is it, then? Everyone’s acting rather strange.”

“Alicent is with child,” Papa says.

‘With child’ is what people say when a baby is growing in a lady’s belly. It’s what Mama told you before Baelon grew very large inside her.

’Nyra freezes, almost like she has forgotten how to move. No one says anything. Papa’s smile—the one that his words made so much bigger when he said them out loud—begins to fall, more and more with each moment that ’Nyra does nothing at all. Then, it goes away completely, and he’s no longer happy like he was.

It’s quiet again. Not the nice kind—the kind that means that someone is about to yell or be naughty.

“A baby?” you ask. Maybe you can stop the bad from happening if you help everyone remember that you’re still here.

Alicent looks at you, the fear leaving her face a little. She nods. “Yes, Princess. You’re to have a brother or sis—”

“Half-brother.” ’Nyra’s lips move, but the rest of her stays still. She cannot stop staring between Papa and Alicent. “Or half-sister. Either way, they will not be your full blood.”

“You are correct, Princess.” From the way Lord Hightower speaks and how silent Alicent and Papa are at ’Nyra’s words, you think she must have said something quite mean. He gives her a little smile, one that makes her hands squeeze really tight on her knife and fork. “Even so, these are glad tidings, indeed. Let us all pray for the Queen to be delivered of a son.”

“I’m sure that would be of great benefit to the Hightowers, my Lord. A son… to solidify your claim to my father’s throne.”

Lord Hightower stops smiling. Alicent gasps.

Papa makes a small noise. “Rhaenyra—”

All at once, she stands, the plate in front of her clattering loudly with how quick she rises. “Congratulations, Your Grace.” She doesn’t sound very happy for Alicent, even if the words are nice. “Forgive me—I feel suddenly unwell.”

“Daughter—”

’Nyra ignores Papa and storms out of the room, leaving her food only half-eaten. The rest of supper is very quiet, the loudest noise of all being the sound of your own breathing.

Isn’t a baby meant to be happy news? you wonder. You look around, but no one here is very happy—except for Lord Hightower. Though he isn’t smiling, he has his head held high like he has had every one of his wishes granted all at once.

“What do you think, Princess?” Brella asks.

You stare down into the cradle at the baby. Your brother. Aegon. He is squirming, face bright red, squished and crying. He hasn’t stopped even once since you came into the room. He might have been crying since before you did, even. Aside from the bright hair on top of his head, you don’t think he looks very much like you.

“He’s nice,” is what you say, but you don’t know if you really mean it. It’s more for Alicent, who is watching you from over on the bed. She looks very tired. If you said something less kind, she may cry.

Alicent smiles. “Thank you, Princess. Nurse—bring him to me, please.”

She doesn’t mean Brella. There is another woman here, Gwenys, who Lord Hightower and Septa Marlow assigned to help give Aegon milk and take care of him when Alicent cannot. Gwenys comes and picks up the baby, walking over to give him to Alicent. She rocks him in her arms which doesn’t stop him from crying, but she still keeps on bouncing him softly. He is very unhappy.

Now that Alicent is holding Aegon, you know that she’ll forget you are there. Ever since Papa told you and ’Nyra that he was in Alicent’s belly, neither of them have had much time for you. It feels like all the people in the Keep—from Papa and Alicent and Lord Hightower to the servants and maids and stableboys—have been more excited for the baby than they ever were for you. The only person who has remembered you is ’Nyra, and so you are with her on most days. It sometimes makes you sad, because it really was very fun to play pretend that Alicent was your mama for a while, but ’Nyra says that it wasn’t going to last, anyway.

“She is to have her own child to care for, now,” she told you in the days after learning about the new baby. “You were good practice—but you aren’t her blood, not really. Not like you and I. Her son will be born, and you’ll be given to a nurse or a Septa to raise.” When you cried, she bent down and wiped away your tears. “It doesn’t make her a bad person,” she said quietly. “But this is the way of the world, sister. Men and women, kings and queens… they all want sons. Us daughters must stick together, yes?”

’Nyra was right. At first, Alicent tried to keep pretending to be like your mama. But then, the baby made her very ill, so she stopped asking you to come to break your fast so you wouldn’t have to see her being sick into the pail by her bed. Then, she spent so much time sleeping that she didn’t have the energy to come outside with you, or to dance with you, and soon, the only time you would see her was at suppertime. Even that wasn’t always. And now the baby is here, you don’t think she will be going back to the way it used to be.

Maybe that is why he feels like such a stranger to you. At least with baby Baelon, you got to feel him kicking in Mama’s tummy. Aegon wasn’t here for so long, and then all of a sudden, he was. He is. You don’t know him at all. He’s just a baby, come to take your Papa and almost-Mama away from you like all the rest.

Brella’s hand on your shoulder is what helps you walk towards the door, Alicent and Aegon staying in the room behind you. With your back turned, it’s easier to pretend that Alicent is very sad by you leaving.

The more moons pass, the more faded Mama’s face is in your memory. You try to hold onto the way her eyes would crinkle at the corners when she smiled, or how her hair would curl a bit like yours after her bath, or the way she’d smell like roses when she hugged you tight. It slips away, out of reach. Putting rose oil in your bath helps you, but only a little bit—and the longer that Mama is gone, the less you can remember of her.

Papa doesn’t like to talk about her. When you ask him, he just spins the ring on his finger around and says, “Another time, perhaps.” You know that ‘another time’ really means ‘never’.

There is no one else in the Keep that really knew her like you and your family knew her, except ’Nyra. She tells you stories sometimes, but you don’t ask a lot because she usually likes to tell the ones that have you in them. When she finishes, she always smiles and asks, “Do you remember?” You never can, and it leaves you feeling like someone has scooped out all your insides.

So, Mama fades, and becomes part of that place in your mind where the things that are being forgotten go. Even though you try and try and try, there is nothing that can stop the forgetting. One day, you think she might be nothing more than a quiet sort of sadness, like looking out the window at the rain and wondering why it makes your chest hurt so much.

Seeing Alicent with Aegon is the only thing that reminds you of her. Even though Alicent’s hair is red where Mama’s was silver, and Aegon is loud and angry where you are quiet and shy, the way that she kisses his cheeks or hums little songs under her breath to him makes you think of how Mama would do the same for you. He doesn’t seem to be very happy when she does these things. If it were you in his place, you know you’d be better than him. You wish she’d realise that.

It seems like no time at all goes by when Alicent is with child again, meaning she’s going to have another baby. If it is anything like Aegon, you do not think you’ll like it very much. Sometimes, you feel very naughty for it, but you cannot help how he makes you feel. All he wants to do is make a fuss and take everyone’s attention, and he keeps crying and being naughty even as Alicent’s belly grows bigger and bigger with your new brother or sister.

When Helaena is born, Papa and Lord Hightower aren’t as pleased as they were with Aegon. You can tell because, while they are both in the room when you come to meet her, neither one is looking at her as she lays in the cradle. They had both been looking down at Aegon last time. You think it is because Helaena is a girl, like you and ’Nyra. You decide that you have to love her if they won’t.

She is a quiet baby, but so still that it makes Gwenys worry and worry, even though all she is doing is lying in her cradle and staring straight up. Maybe she knows how rude her big brother is, you think, and she wants to do and be all the things he isn’t.

You weren’t allowed to hold Aegon because he was so disagreeable, which means he would probably have screamed and cried if you did. He still screams and cries, which is why Alicent has to spend all her days with him even though she’s just had a second baby, so Helaena is by herself with Gwenys most hours.

Helaena isn’t like Aegon. This time, Gwenys has you sit in a chair with a pillow under your arm and brings the baby to you. “Mind her head,” she says, tugging your arm forward so that Helaena fits nicely in your arms. “There we go.”

She is a big baby, round and heavy and warm, but you don’t mind because she gazes up at you with large blue eyes that look like they might turn purple when she gets older. The hairs she has on her head—and there aren’t many, not like Aegon had—are silver, and you know that she will look very much like you when she has grown more. When you stroke a finger over the skin on her hand, her whole fist grabs onto it, strong even though she is so young. It’s like she knows who you are, even without any words being said.

You wonder if this is how ’Nyra felt when she met you—a burning that tingles all through your arms and legs, not in a way that hurts, no, but in a way that makes you want to squeeze tight and never let go.

Helaena doesn’t cry. She falls asleep while you’re holding her, her face turned into you so that you can feel her tiny breaths through your dress. It is special and warm and love-feeling like Alicent used to be, like Mama was when she was not-dead. The hurt goes far away, still there but not so much, not so heavy in your chest.

For a little while, the sadness—of forgetting Mama, of being forgotten by so many others—fades away, too.

When you are five summers old, you have to say goodbye to Brella.

All the while you are breaking your fast, she looks like she is about to start crying. Even though you wonder why, you don’t ask. When someone cries, it means that something bad has happened. So much bad has already happened, and you don’t know if you want to hear any more. You eat in quiet, scooping porridge into your mouth while the sound of sniffles fills the room. The taste of honey would make you feel happy, but not when Brella is so upset. Your food sinks to the bottom of your belly like one of the hot bricks you sometimes get under your blankets when it’s very cold at night, only there’s nothing nice about it. It’s hard and rough and makes you feel sick.

After you have finished every bite—you have to eat all of it, or you don’t get to play—Brella takes you by the hand and leads you to the chair. “There is… there is something I have to tell you,” she says, slow and shaky.

I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. You wish that you were like ’Nyra, that you could say the words out loud—but you cannot. You don’t want to know, but you say nothing, and you wait for whatever bad thing is coming to show itself.

“I…” Brella swallows and looks down at your hands, still holding onto each other even though you are sitting and there is no need. “Tell me again how old you are, Princess.”

“Five summers.” It’s a very small number, but you are still proud because you’re almost a big girl now.

Brella laughs, nodding. “That’s right. Five. My goodness. How time flies!”

You find that silly. Time doesn’t fly. It isn’t a thing-you-can-touch, and only things-you-can-touch can fly, like dragons or birds or insects. Still, you try not to show your thinking on your face as Brella squeezes your hand tighter.

“Being five summers old is a very important milestone when you’re a prince or princess,” she says. “Do you know why?”

“No,” you say. “Why?”

Here, she stops. “It… It means—gods, I don’t know if I can say it.”

“Well, then. It appears that I must,” comes a voice from the door.

You turn. Septa Marlow stands with her hands joined in front of her, her mouth pinched into a line so small it is like it has disappeared from her face. Her grey wimple makes her skin look just as colourless. She steps forward, and the sound of her shoes touching the ground seems as loud as thunder.

“You are of an age to begin your lessons, Princess. Thus, it is time for your nurse”—she looks at Brella and her lip curls, though you cannot tell if she’s happy or angry—“to depart, and for me to take over your care.”

The sick feeling gets worse, and you wonder if you might bring up all your food from how bad the pains are in your belly. “But—but Brella will still stay, though? For Aegon and Helaena?”

Septa Marlow huffs. “There is no need, silly child. Their nurse has already been appointed, and Gwenys will suffice for any future children borne by the Queen. Brella is to collect her things and return to the Vale.”

Brella has taught you some of the places on the map that shows Papa’s kingdom. You live in King’s Landing, which is in the Crownlands, and it is at the bottom of the map. The Vale is where Mother—Mother, not Mama, Mama is for babies and I am not a baby anymore, you have to keep telling yourself—came from, that it is a bit up and to the side from the Crownlands. It isn’t that far in the drawings, but Brella says that maps show a smaller picture of what is really a very, very long distance.

If Brella has to return to the Vale, it means she will be very, very far away.

You think you might be frozen, like ice. You cannot say anything. All that you can think, over and over, is no, no, no, please, not Brella, no, no, no. The fire-burn of tears warms behind your eyes, but you know that you cannot let Septa see you cry. She’ll think you are weak.

Brella sniffles. “I can write to you,” she says, pulling you closer to her. “And, when you’re old enough, you can write to me. How about that?”

You nod, but her words don’t make you feel better. Paper isn’t the same as a person, not really. Even if she puts letters on paper and sends them to you, it won’t be like one of her hugs or the way she laughs when you miss a dance step or fall over in the grass. It won’t smell like her or look like her. It won’t make you feel safe like she does.

She will turn not-real like Mother. Only, maybe it is worse—because you’ll know that, somewhere a long way away from you, she will be real, but that you cannot have her anymore.

“I don’t want you to go,” is what you say, but it comes out like a whisper, not strong like you wanted it to.

“I know, my darling,” Brella says, hugging you tight so that you can feel her heart beating through her skin and yours. “I know, and I’m so sorry—”

“If you could unhand my charge, Nurse.” Septa’s eyebrow is raised. “Although—now that it occurs to me—‘nurse’ is no longer the appropriate moniker, is it?”

Brella glares at her. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Your time here is at an end.” Even though she looks like she’s trying not to show her feelings on her face, Septa lifts her chin in the air like ’Nyra used to when she would win at cyvasse against Alicent. “Say your goodbyes.”

“What—here? Now?” Brella’s mouth is open like she’s very surprised. “I’d thought the Princess would be coming to see me off at the harb—”

“That is not a good idea. She is too… attached.” Septa says it like it is a curse. “A public display of histrionics does not a respectable Princess make, no matter her juvenility.” You have no idea what most of these words mean, but the way they make Brella sink in her seat cannot be a good thing.

She tucks your hair behind your ears as she looks down at you, her eyes wet. “Be good,” she says, very soft so that Septa cannot hear them well. “Make sure you write to me, yes?”

She brushes her thumbs over your cheeks—out, in, out, in—the way she does when she really means ‘I love you’.

“Please stay,” you whisper, trying not to let your lower lip wobble like it wants to so badly. “Please don’t go.”

Brella hugs you again, her whole body shaking. Your face is smushed up against her shoulder, the smell of her herness filling your nose with so much warm. You wonder if, by clinging on tight, you can stop her from leaving. She cannot leave. She is what you have left now that Mam—Mother is gone, now that Papa has Alicent and ’Nyra has Papa and Uncle has his war somewhere away from you. She cannot leave. She cannot.

It feels like she has been holding on for forever and also for no time at all when she lets go, stands up, and walks away without a word. The door shuts.

She didn’t even say goodbye.

Is it worse or better, watching her go away? you wonder through the cold that settles in your body, in your arms and legs, the sharpness of it so much that you feel like shivering even though the sun is shining hot outside. You never saw Mother die. She was here, and then she wasn’t. But you have to watch Brella leave, knowing there is nothing you can do to stop it all the while.

“Dry your tears, girl. ‘Tis about time your coddling came to an end.” Septa pulls you by the shoulder off the chair. Her hand doesn’t feel warm like Brella’s does. Her stare—fixed on you—travels up and down, her mouth crinkling at the corner like she is thinking about something. “Why she was allowed to linger past your name day, I will never understand.”

You cannot think of anything to say, so you keep quiet. It doesn’t seem to make Septa like you any more than she did before, which you don’t think was very much. The tears keep falling, though you try and try to make them disappear.

“Now,” she says, clapping her hands sharply. The loudness of the noise makes you jump. Teardrops shake onto your dress. “We have a long day ahead of us. The Queen has requested an update on your progress, so you will be learning no less than three hymns before the end of the sennight. I should like to provide her with”—she looks you up and down again, and this time it seems like she is thinking something unkind about you—“some indication that you will shape up to be a lady of high standing.”

I’m a Princess, not a lady, you want to say. You don’t.

Septa begins striding away, then stops and turns around to face you. “I expect you to follow when I walk, and to acknowledge me when I speak by saying ‘Yes, Septa Marlow’.” She almost spits the words at you. “Understood?”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” It doesn’t sound as strong or as clear as when she said it. You wish you could sound less afraid. Still, she seems to find it good enough. She says nothing afterward, just waits for you to trail along after her.

“Hmph.” She clicks her tongue. Staring down at you again, she adds, “And stand up straight.”

You do as you’re told.

Septa Marlow is as frightfully mean as you always feared.

One thing you learn quickly is that everything you do and say is wrong. When you laugh, it is too ‘unbecoming’; when you smile, you show too much teeth; when you walk, you are too hunched over; when you eat, you are too ‘gluttonous’. You’re a ‘simpleton’ when you ask to play with your dolls, so they sit at the foot of your bed slowly being covered by dust; you’re ‘graceless’ when you try to dance, so you practice after you have been put to bed to try and get better before each morning; you’re ‘impertinent’ when you say what you’re thinking instead of keeping it to yourself, so you learn to let your thoughts stay inside your head. There is little that she doesn’t pick on and tell you that you need to change.

“Use full words, please!” she says whenever you forget to speak in the proper way that she expects. She always raps her willow switch on the table in front of you after that. Lucky for you, she has not yet used it to hurt you. “It is ‘does not’, not ‘doesn’t’. There is no need to employ such low-class mannerisms as a lady of your standing!”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” There is no point trying to tell her that she’s wrong.

It isn’t all bad, though. Having Septa Marlow take over means that you are now expected to learn all sorts of things, and a lot of it is very interesting. New words, new Houses, new hymns, new dances—you start to learn how to sew, how to put letters together to read them, how to count numbers and add and take them away to make different numbers. Septa says that there are so many things a noblewoman like you needs to be able to do by the time she is ready to be married, so that she can run her husband’s household and take care of him and her future children. That is a long time from now, but practice makes perfect.

The only time you are not with Septa is when you are with your family, like today.

Because Aegon has lived past being a baby—and Septa says that babies die a lot from the weather or from being sick or from being fed too much or too little or sometimes for no reason at all—Papa has announced that everyone must go on a hunt to celebrate his name day. You have to sit in the wheelhouse with he and Alicent and ’Nyra and Aegon and three other nurses, but not Helaena. She’s only a baby still, so she must stay in the Keep with Gwenys.

It is not a very fun ride. Being in a wheelhouse with them all means putting ’Nyra very close to Alicent, whose belly has grown big with a baby again. Lots of people have lots to say about how many babies Alicent has had since she married Papa, and most of it is not very nice towards your mother. She could only have two girls, and it took her a long time to have you after ’Nyra.

Papa thinks there is another boy in Alicent’s belly. You hope not. Aegon is loud and rude. You think it might be worse if there were two of him instead of just one.

“…whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood,” Papa is saying. You swing your legs back and forth, though you must stop each time you roll over a big bump in the road. You stay quiet, because Septa says a lady does not talk unless she is asked a question.

A very big bump in the road makes Alicent’s smile fall from her face.

“Should you be travelling in such condition?” ’Nyra asks. She sounds worried, even though she is no longer friends with Alicent.

“The maester said that being out in nature would do me well,” is what Alicent says back.

Papa starts talking while he finishes giving Aegon a sip from his cup. You wonder if it’s wine. “Well, you will be with your own child sooner than late, and make me a proud grandsire.” He is smiling, perhaps at the thought of it.

‘No, I will not,’ the look on ’Nyra’s face seems to say. You cannot help but agree with her. Having babies seems like such a tiring thing to do.

“It's not so bad.” Alicent has to speak louder to be heard over the rattling of the wheels and the hoofbeats of the horses. “The days are long, but Aegon came quickly and without fuss. Helaena, too.”

The nurse who is holding Aegon in her lap—Delia, you think her name is—waves a toy dragon in front of him. He smacks at it with his hands, frowning. You would never treat your toys like that.

“You should ride out with me today,” Papa says to ’Nyra. “Join in the chase, while you”—his eyes go to you—“sit about with your lady stepmother. Hm?”

“Okay, Papa,” you say quietly. Proper ladies do what their fathers tell them to.

’Nyra’s hand finds yours. “I’d rather not. The boars squeal like children when they're being slaughtered.” From the way her fingers squeeze yours and her stare fixes on Aegon, you know she doesn’t mean you when she says that. “I find it discomfiting.”

“It's a hunt, Rhaenyra.” Papa smiles. It is a careful sort of smile, not a happy one. Aegon’s yell distracts him for a moment, but he is quick to return to speaking to ’Nyra. “How would you like to participate?” he asks her.

“I’d be leaving my sister alone with the vultures of the Realm,” ’Nyra says, “so I'm not sure why I must.”

Trying to understand what everyone means by what they say is very difficult—you aren’t sure if she’s saying that the ladies coming along are vultures, or if she’s trying to say Alicent is. You don’t even know what a vulture is, so you aren’t sure if it is a bad or good thing to be.

“Because you are my eldest daughter. The Princess.” Papa looks like he is finding it harder and harder to stop himself from telling ’Nyra off. “And you have duties.”

“As I am ceaselessly reminded.” Your sister says it softly, but it is easy enough for you to hear from your place next to her.

Papa doesn’t, though. “I'm sorry?”

Instead of making up a lie or saying that she did not say anything at all, ’Nyra repeats herself louder. It is terribly rude, but you enjoy watching as you have always enjoyed watching her being brave against other people. “As I am ceaselessly reminded.”

“You wouldn't need to be reminded if you ever attended to them.”

“No one's here for me!”

Papa doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Neither does Alicent. They both just fall silent along with the nurses. Even Aegon stops making all his annoying noises, instead sitting so still that he could be sleeping if his eyes were not open.

You make sure to hold onto your sister’s hand even tighter. If there is anyone in the whole world who does know what to say, it is you. If only you were brave enough.

I understand, ’Nyra, you want to say. No one’s here for me, either. No one’s ever here for me.

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solarmorrigan · 5 months

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hallo! I saw the angsty prompt list thing, and the “don’t trust me.” One kind of stood out to me. You don’t have to write it, but you’re one of my favorite writers on here so I thought it might be cool :)

Hullo! So I did fill this prompt once already, but I'd had a bunch of ideas for it and I was in the mood for something a little softer, so I did another! Thanks for giving me the opening to write it (and for the compliment, you're so kind?? 😭)

[General warning for mention of Steve's shitty parents and their generally shitty parenting technique]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

“Why am I the one doing this?” Steve grouses, straining slightly as he struggles with the full box on the top shelf. “Instead of, y’know, you?”

“You’re stronger than me,” Eddie replies readily.

“Bullshit, I’ve seen you lugging amps and shit around during your shows,” Steve shoots back, grumbling as he works the box free from the high shelf.

“You got me.” Eddie grins, though Steve’s back is turned to him. “I just like watching you work, sweetheart.”

From the depths of the storage closet, Steve gives an audible snort of laughter, but he also stops arguing. Then, with a little noise of triumph, Steve finally manages to tug the box free, holding it aloft long enough to back out of the closet and then heaving it down onto the floor, where it lands in a clatter of plastic and jingling bells.

“Excellent.” Eddie falls upon the box, rubbing his hands together in anticipation before tugging at the tucked flaps. “There’s one more box, would you mind? It’s on the floor; long rectangle.”

“You said there was one box,” Steve says, eyes narrowed.

“Whoops, miscounted,” Eddie says breezily, smiling up at Steve with as much innocence as he can muster. “You know how bad I am at all that academic shit.”

“Says the guy who plays a math game for fun,” Steve drawls.

For the sake of time, Eddie leaves the bait where it is, instead batting his eyelashes up at Steve. “Pretty please, pretty boy? It’s definitely the last one.”

Steve holds out for exactly five more seconds before retreating into the closet with a roll of his eyes. “If you suddenly remember one more after this, I’m suddenly gonna remember something I have to do back at my house and leave you to do all the decorating on your own,” he calls back, muffled from behind the coats Eddie can hear him shoving aside to find the last box.

Eddie’s at least eighty percent sure he’s bluffing, but it’s no matter – he hadn’t been lying. Most of what he needs is in the box in front of him: strands of garland, wrapped tangles of lights, and the same ugly pinecone wreath with the world’s most annoying string of jingle bells attached that Wayne’s been hanging since Eddie was a kid. Everything else—the ornaments, more lights, and, of course, the tree—is in the hefty, rectangular box Steve is currently hauling out into the entryway.

Normally, Wayne would be there to help, but his and Eddie’s work schedules have fallen out of sync in the hectic holiday rush of extra shifts; if one has the day off, the other is too tired by the time they get home to entertain anything as energy-consuming as getting up on a ladder to hang lights. Eddie and Steve, however (somehow; miraculously), share at least one day off a week, which has seen Steve recruited as Eddie’s backup decorating partner.

“That it?” Steve breathes as releases the box and stands straight, tugging his sweater down from where it’s ridden up (Eddie can’t believe he’s dating someone who unironically wears ugly Christmas sweaters. He can’t believe Steve makes them look good).

“That’s it,” Eddie promises. He plucks two balled-up strings of lights from the box in front of him and stands up, one under each arm. “So here’s what I’m thinking: I’ll get started on the outside, while you,” Eddie puts a boot to the tree box and shoves it towards Steve with a grunt; even across the laminate flooring it doesn’t slide easy, practically cocooned in layers of packing tape from so many years of opening and resealing, “get the tree going.”

Already halfway wrapped up in how he’s going to string the lights (he’d always loved decorating the outside of the trailer, and now he gets to figure out a new configuration for the tiny porch on his and Wayne’s equally tiny new house; it ain’t much, as they say, but it’s home – or, at least, it’s starting to feel like it), Eddie nearly misses the look of confusion that crosses Steve’s face.

“Uh… how do you want it set up?” Steve asks.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “Stand goes on the floor, pointy end goes up. I have faith in you, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes again, but with his frown in place he looks like he might actually be irritated. “I mean, you have to tell me how you want it, like, decorated and shit. Where it’s supposed to go, that sort of thing.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve decorated a tree before, man,” Eddie says. “I know I saw one at your house last time I was there.”

“Yeah, but that’s my house. This is yours. You have to tell me how you want it,” Steve says.

Once again for the sake of time, Eddie leaves the obvious opening for a joke where it lies. “Steve, it’s – y’know, lights, garland, ornaments, it’s not rocket science. I trust you to do a good job.”

“No, don’t trust me, just tell me how you want it decorated,” Steve insists. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to do it wrong.”

“It’s… a Christmas tree, sweetheart,” Eddie says slowly. “You can’t do it wrong.”

“Oh, I assure you, I can,” Steve says with a laugh. “Seriously, like – people are super particular about how their trees are set up, I think. My mom always has been. I remember when I was, like, ten, she and my dad had been away for a while, and we were coming up on Christmas pretty fast, and none of the decorations were up, so I figured I’d at least put the tree up. Surprise them when they got home, right? Except my mom lost her shit when they got home and saw it.”

“Noooot in a good way, I take it,” Eddie hazards.

“Nah, I did it all wrong. The tinsel wasn’t spread out right, and there’s only supposed to be a certain number of ornaments on each branch, and she wanted the angel on top, not the star, so she made me take the whole thing down.” Steve shrugs. “So, seriously, even if you don’t think you have a certain way you want it done, I’ll probably manage to find the exact way you don’t want it, so you should just tell me.”

“Steve, I promise, that tree is, like, older than I am; you can’t make it worse. As long as you don’t set it on fire, I’ll be happy with it,” Eddie says.

“That’s not–” Steve cuts himself off, running one hand through his hair with a strained little laugh. “I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me how you want it done.”

Eddie shakes his head, dropping the bundles of lights back into their box; he hates when this happens – hates when he stumbles over some mundane thing that Steve’s parents have fucked up for him that Eddie only manages to poke like a kid with a sharp stick at a beehive because he didn’t even realize it could be an issue. Who the fuck gives their kid a complex over how the Christmas tree is decorated? Who does that?

(Then again, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about more than just their expectations for the tree.)

“Okay, I need you to listen to me,” Eddie says, voice firm but hands gentle as he reaches for Steve’s own. “I swear I’m not trying to set you up for failure. I’m really not. The tree isn’t supposed to look perfect. It’s supposed to be kinda crooked and covered in dumb ornaments you can’t even remember the stories behind and only have, like, half a string of popcorn around it because you ate most of it when your uncle wasn’t looking and didn’t leave enough for the tree.”

Steve stares at him, brows furrowed, like he’s trying to piece what Eddie’s telling him into what he already knows about the world, like he needs both things to be true, even though they don’t fit together.

“Actually…” Eddie says slowly, deciding that it may be best to change tack, “come to think of it, there’s one thing about decorating the tree that I should’ve told you. Most important thing, really. Can’t believe I forgot.”

“What?” Steve asks, halfway between wary and eager for the instruction.

“You’re supposed to do it together. That’s what makes it good.” Eddie lets go of one of Steve’s hands to smack the heel of his own to the side of his forehead. “Duh. Silly me.”

Steve shakes his head, letting it hang forward with a little huff of a laugh as some of the tension leeches from his shoulders. “You’re such a dork, do you know that?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums, grabbing Steve by the front of that stupid, ugly sweater (it has reindeer on it, how does it not look awful on him?) and pulling him up for a quick kiss. “So how about you help me do the outside lights, and then we’ll come back inside and do the tree together?”

One last flicker of uncertainty crosses Steve’s face. “What about Wayne?”

A flutter of fondness rolls through Eddie’s chest, the same as it always does when Steve doesn’t just consider Eddie, but the things and people important to him. “His favorite part is stringing the popcorn. We can do that when he gets home.”

“Oh.” Steve nods, as though he is considering this very seriously, then smirks at Eddie. “Should we make some to eat before he gets back, so you leave enough for the tree?”

Eddie smacks him on the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Alright, Harrington, just for that, you’re the one untangling the lights.”

“What, like it’s a punishment?” Steve asks. “I’m great at untangling Christmas lights.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie presses a hand to his heart and pretends to swoon over the box of decorations, “when you say things like that, it makes me want to keep you forever.”

And Steve’s answering grin at that is far brighter than anything they’re going to decorate with today, Eddie is certain.

#finntheehumaneater #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #I also wanted to write something a little holiday-related!#so I'll be honest this is a little schmoopy but like. that happens sometimes yanno?#solar wrote #answers from solar

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acey-wacey · 1 year

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Yo! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ I read your twst future childrens series and I love it! I searched on your posts and it seems like you only have 2(?) posts about it. I hope it doesn’t trouble you to write the same prompt/HCs but with Rook, Idia, and Lilia?

Thank you! Oh, and have a great thanksgiving!

I think I have a new favorite series! besides enemies to lovers ofc ;)

...

🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞

It was a usual busy day in the Pomefiore dorm when two little children stumbled through what appeared to be a portal of some kind.

They were a young girl, about 9, with blonde hair in two neat plaits, and a boy, just a few years younger who hid behind her leg as they examined the new setting.

"Where are we, Eloise?"

"I don't know. Stay behind me, Ansel. It could be dangerous."

Eloise guarded Ansel with her arms fiercely as they were approached by a tall figure in a Pomefiore uniform.

"What have we here?"

Vil bent down to examine the children closely and was soon assaulted with hugs from both of them.

"Vater! We got lost but don't worry, I protected Ansel very good."

Eloise released Vil from the hug and nodded seriously, seemingly standing at attention. Ansel followed suit, copying his sister's every move.

"Who are you kids? You almost messed up my makeup."

"Sorry, Vater," they sheepishly said in unison.

"I don't know how you got in here, but I'm not you father. Sevens, I do not like children."

Vil pinched the bridge of his nose as he wracked his brain for someone he knew that was good with kids.

Of course you were his first choice since you already have a bratty baby cat and operate as the school mom.

He sent one of the dorm members to bring you to Pomefiore, since he couldn't afford to leave for even a moment.

You walked to the Pomefiore dorm, very confused as to why the dorm leader himself had summoned you.

Your curiosity was not satiated when you found two little kids playing on Vil's throne while he worked.

"Who are the kids?"

Vil looked up from the color palette he had been reviewing and glanced at the kids.

"There our children apparently."

"We don't have children, Vil."

"Mama!"

Ansel jumped off the throne to grab at your arms, asking you to pick him up.

"According to Eloise and Ansel, we get married in the future, have two lovely darlings..."

Vil smiled, gesturing to the children. He had become quite fond of them.

"...And then they get transported back the where we are now."

You blinked at him, your brows furrowing as you picked Ansel up.

"We get married?"

"Yes, liebe. Keep up."

You blanked out for a few minutes there before Vil snapped in front of your face, grounding you back to reality.

"It's not that hard to believe, is it? Despite our differences, I've grown fond of you. I wouldn't have been surprised if we became sweethearts."

It was, in fact, a little hard to believe but you ignored that in favor of playing with Eloise and Ansel while they were around.

Vil wasn't shy about reminding you that you'd see them again, though it was, in partial, to see your cute flustered expression.

...

🏹 Rook Hunt 🏹

It was the middle of the night when you were awoken by a clink noise.

You looked around until the clink sounded again, seemingly coming from your window.

You opened the window to find Rook and four children gathered around the first floor.

"What are you doing?"

"We have little ones, mon amour!"

"Who are the kids with you?"

"Did you not hear what I just said? Our babies, Y/N!"

You eventually just ran outside to assess the situation.

The children with Rook were a tall girl of a bout 10, a shorter girl with straight blonde hair, a blonde boy who looked to be a twin of the shorter girl, and a little boy that Rook bounced on his hip.

"This is Odette, Camille, Cedric, and Emmanuel," Rook introduced them and beamed.

Odette, the oldest, ran to you and hugged you around the middle.

"We got lost, maman, and then we were here and you and papa are so young now. What happened?"

You looked at Rook for clarification.

"They're our children for the future, amour! I always knew I wanted to name my oldest Odette but to have a family with you is quite a pleasant notion."

You tried to conceal your blush as Rook smirked at you and whacked his arm.

"Don't say things like that around the children."

Camille and Cedric fought quite a bit while you were all together but Odette seemed quite used to breaking them up.

They always apologized and forgot about in within an hour.

Emmanuel was rather quiet and liked being held more than anything.

It was sad when you had to send them back but Rook wasted no time bringing up their conception which you didn't appreciate at all.

...

🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮

Ortho actually found them first.

While testing out his new flying mechanism, he spotted two children, a boy and a girl, who seemed very lost in the middle of the NRC campus.

"Hello! Are you lost?"

The boy, who looked about 8, perked up and ran at Ortho, swallowing him in a hug.

"Ortho! Where's mom and dad? We can find them anymore."

Ortho scanned the children to see who they were, but they didn't appear on any downloaded database.

"Who are you kids? I can't scan you."

"Silly unca. You don't need to scan us! It's just me and Erin!"

Ortho was so confused at the kids pack of records that he just picked them up and flew them back to the Ignihyde dorm with them laughing and cheering the whole way.

Upon being showed the children, Idia immediately recognized the blue flamey hair that didn't exist outside his family.

"Are you two like distant cousins or something?"

"Of course not, dad! It's just us! Why does nobody recognize us?" the boy put his hands on his hips and pouted.

"Sorry, I'm not your dad."

"No, you're our dad," the quiet younger girl finally spoke up with a soft embarrassed pink glow on her hair. "Dad is Idia and mama is Y/N."

Idia blue screened upon hearing your name.

He was completely frozen for so long that Ortho had to go get you from your dorm.

When you got there, you puzzles together that the children, named Matthias and Erin, were the future children of Idia and yourself that had somehow been transported to your time.

It took a good slap to the face to get Idia to come back to real life.

"Welcome back. These are our children."

"We don't have children, Y/N! I think I would remember if we ever... If we had... We don't have children!"

Matthias was much more outspoken and curious while Erin seemed to take after her father in bashfulness and dislike of socializing.

You quickly figured out that both were very clever and could use whatever tactics to get out of things they didn't like, eating vegetables, for example.

You'd seen the same stubbornness in Idia and it made you smile though you were sure it must give future you a headache.

It was sad to see them go but out of respect for Idia's heart, you chose not to mention them for a good while.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

Note

Ok so I have a dorky request… I loved your MM fics and especially loved Donnie’s wholesome family one, SO CUTE!! Aww my heart!

Anyway I was wondering if you could do one where the reader has been friends with the family since they were kids like toddlers. And one day at dinner Splinter makes a comment about how they are part of the family and like a sister. The boys get uncomfortable and make gagging noises and the reader is just like ‘??? I thought you liked me?’ And the reason they didn’t like the sister comment is because they have a crush on them? It can be one of them or all of them or separate I don’t care.

Anyway I LOVE YOUR WORK! I have low key been stalking your blog for content…but before anything take care of yourself!! Drink water, eat food, and get rest! Ok love ya, bye!!!

Family Friend (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: You’re an absolute cutie! Please continue your stalking as much as you want💚😭 I think you would like to know that I had a full breakfast before writing this, and a full glass of water by my side throughout😉 I decided to make this with Raph, because… well, Idk. Guess I’m a little Raph sick this morning lol. Hope you enjoy❤️

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Warnings: Spelling, because my dyslexia has been bucking this morning, a little bit cracky at the end😅❤️

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Splinter never really liked humans. No actually, he had always kind of hated them. Before he mutated he feared them, and after he just generally disliked them. And all four of his sons knew that very well. He had warned them several times, telling them never to get close to the humans that lived above ground, unless they wished to get hurt, or even worse, milked. Splinter used to tell his sons horrible stories about the humans, and how they hated everything that they didn’t understand. Well, that was with one exception; you.

First time you met the turtles and their rat father was by pure accident. Somehow, at the age of four years old, you had managed to get lost in the sewers, crying for your parents, unsure which way to go. Therefore you sat down, bawling your eyes out in the middle of the gross sewers of New York City, believing that this would be the last of you, and that you never would see your parents again. But to your luck, somebody heard you. Somewhere in the sewers, not far away, four turtle brothers heard crying, running to their father screaming about a ghost outside in the sewers.

Splinter, being the caring father that he was, told them he would go out and take a look for them, thinking it was probably nothing but the imagination of his sons. And that’s how Splinter ventured out in the sewer, his four year old sons following closely in his heels, before they found you crying somewhere in the corner.

Splinter’s first reaction was to run, leaving you behind while he tried to bring his sons back home safely. But his sons, being so incredibly slippery and hard to catch, with their big love for humans, had already taken a great liking to you, not leaving your side until Splinter agreed to bring you back to the lair. And that was how you spent the next few hours, safely in the lair, cuddled up with four mutant turtle toddlers, while Splinter tried to locate your family.

After that day, Splinter relaxed, thinking that his family was once again safe and hidden away from the humans. So could you imagine his shock when you stood in the doorway, asking if his sons wanted to come and play with you in the sewer. Even more shocked were he to see his sons already at your side, big puppy eyes as they waited for his permission. Splinter had already lost that battle.

Over the next eleven years, you would become a common occurrence in the brothers’ lives. Whenever you got the chance you would find yourself in the lair, hanging out with the boys that would become your closest friends. Even Splinter started to take a liking to you, even if it took a little longer than it had done with his sons. It went so far that he would invite you down to the sewers for family dinners, holidays and birthday parties, and even bring you gifts on your own birthdays.

You would become one of the few connections the boys had to the outside world, other than their few grocery runs every now and then. When the five of you weren’t playing video games, watching movies or running through the sewers or dark alleyways and rooftops, they would hang over your shoulder, watching as you did your homework, asking you all sorts of questions about human schools.

Raphael however, asked more than the others. How big was your school? Was it just like the schools in the movies you've watched together? And your teachers, were they just as horrible, and did they give you a lot of homework? The content of your homework however, didn’t interest him much. But watching you do them while telling him about your day was what he found interesting. Sitting at the kitchen table, balancing his sai between his finger and table, head resting on his other arm, stealing glances at you when you weren’t looking, deeply invested in whatever subject you were studying. He couldn’t help but hide a smile against his arm, whenever he saw you bite your lip in frustration.

Raphael’s brothers weren’t blind. They had noticed the way he would act whenever you were around, comparing it to how Leonardo would react whenever he saw a girl in a movie; awestruck. He was the first to greet you in the lair, and often the one to ask if you would come down for a visit. Once you would be in the lair, he would hover around you, unconsciously doing anything he could to stay close to you. How you still hadn’t noticed Raphael’s growing crush on you was a wonder to them. The way he would try to hug you longer than any of his brothers, and how he would poke you throughout the movie. His crush was so obvious, he might as well have been screaming it out loud in the lair. And yet you didn’t notice. But that wouldn’t last long.

It was regular Thursday evening, and you had once again been invited down to the lair for dinner with the turtles and their father. It went how it usually did, with Splinter and Michelangelo making dinner, while the three others kept you entertained. I didn’t take much, as you always found yourself having a great time in the lair.

After dinner was made, and the boys reluctantly had set the table, all of you sat down to eat. You talked about school, and that one test you had been nervous about. Splinter listened with a proud smile as you told him how it went. It did not matter to him what grade you got or how far you were in class. What mattered was how brave you had felt, making Splinter feel like a proud parent, remembering the scared little girl he and his sons found in the sewer. And it was with that feeling of proud fatherhood, that Splinter made what was meant to be a friendly comment, to who he now considered a surrogate daughter.

“It makes me happy to know you felt brave today. I think all of us feel so”, Splinter said, gesturing to the smiles on his sons’ faces. “Your growth makes me proud, but not just as a friend. (Y/N), I hope you know that we view you not just as a close friend of the family, but as a part of the family itself, like a daughter and sister”.

You smiled at Splinter, wanting to tell him how much it meant to you, and that you too felt like their family had become like a second home to you. But you couldn’t before laughter erupted from the boys, along with gagging noises, fingers pointing down their throat as they acted as if they were going to throw up. Raph however stared at his food in horror. No way his dad just said that to you!

You looked at the boys in confusion. It wasn’t uncommon for them to tease you, lightly commenting on your human looks or your smell. Nothing you couldn’t take. But that moment was different. Raphael avoided eye contact, head docked low looking displeased at his father. But his brothers looked like they were having the time of their lives, sending teasing smiles Raph’s way, making him cross his arms over his plastron, sulking even further into his chair.

“Hey!”, you said, catching their attention. “Don’t look that sad. I thought you liked me”.

“Oh, we like you, okay”, Donatello said, turning his attention towards Raphael with mischief in his eyes, nudging him with his elbow. “Some more than others”, he sang, wiggling his brows. Raph scowled at his brother, crossing his arms tighter. He now regretted sitting beside you, forcing himself to look away from you, his cheeks burning hot under his mask.

“Maybe you should quit it out, Donnie”, Leo said, a smile still plastered on his face. “You know how he gets when we tease him about that”.

“Shut it”, Raph grumbled, sliding even further down the chair, until he was almost laying on his shell.

“Teasing about what?”, you asked, still not fully understanding what was going on. “What is wrong with your dad saying I’m part of the family?”

The brothers giggled, before Mikey stood, hands cupped around his mouth as he yelled, “Raph has a crush on (Y/N)”.

“That’s it!”, Raph yelled, standing from his chair making his brothers jump in laughter. “Come here you little shits!”

You and Splinter watched as Raph chased his brothers around the lair, telling them to stop as they yelled about everything his crush on you had made him do or say.

“Okay, maybe you’re not like a sister to everyone”, Splinter said with you nodding in agreement, a small smile creeping up on your lips. Family or not, these boys meant everything to you, and you could not imagine a day without them.

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lainiespicewrites · 2 months

Text

Electric Summer Ch 4

I’m sorry this took me so long! But I finally finished my math class and had the time to write!

Summary Big day with the campers big day for Sy and Lainie, and a hurt camper 😭

Let me know what you think comments and reblogs always welcome!!

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My morning starts with a shake. I open my eyes slowly to find Emma standing next to my bunk. Her little hand gently rocked my shoulder. “Emma? You okay?” my voice groggy as I leaned up on my elbows. She nodded

“Yeah, sorry,” she whispered. “ I just wanted to tell you I’m heading to the showers in case you woke up and I was gone. I didn’t want you to worry.” I nodded fully sitting up in my bunk reaching to check my phone. It was 6:27 my alarm would be going off soon anyway.

“Go ahead,” I told her. “I’ll be heading that way myself soon. Thank you for telling me.” I kept my voice quiet. I wouldn’t start to get everyone else up until I got back. She smiled and left the cabin walking off toward the bathrooms. I’m so glad that I was with the older kids. I wouldn’t have any issue escorting them around or making sure everyone had a buddy to go with. But it was nicer just having an honor system and giving them their freedom.

Standing from the bunk I stretched pulling my bag from the Bunk above me. None of the girls decided to sleep up there so I used it for storage. I grabbed my shower bag. I grabbed another pair of shorts. It was going to be a chilly morning because of the rain so I searched for a sweatshirt and found an old highschool sports hoodie. There was a light earthy smell outside of the cabin. The storm last night made everything damp. The sky was just becoming light. To the west it was a dusty blue and to the east where the sun was rising there were beautiful orange hues. There were a few showers running creating a soft white noise to the background of my morning. I let the water wake me and gave myself a fresh start for the day ahead. When I got back to the cabin 2 more of the girls were starting to get themselves around. Taylor was just heading out as I was coming in and Ryleigh was just standing out of her bunk.

“Good morning,” I spoke softly and smiled. My towl was still wrapped around my head. She gave me a tired smiled and mumbled back a sleepy

“Morning,” I watched her for a moment as she rooted through her bag finding what she was looking for. I straightened up my bed quickly before I sat down criss-cross, towel drying my hair and brushing it out.

“There’s plenty of showers open if you’re headed that way!” I told her. She nodded.

“I was gonna go for a walk first if that’s okay? She asked.

I checked my phone, it was 6:45 “Breakfast is in a little over an hour, so just be back before then okay?” I smiled. She nodded and thanked me before throwing on a sweatshirt and some sneakers. She walked past me and I heard the cabin door slam.

I smiled to myself as I pulled out my notebook looking over our schedule for the day. Today was going to be really fun! The “Leaders” groups, Aka the high school aged kids, had a huge scavenger hunt set up all across camp. During the storm last night while Sy and I were talking with some of our fellow counselors we decided to make it a battle between all the individual cabins instead of our “family” cabins. Which meant we were in competition with the boys. Anything that ended up being a battle of the sexes was always a blast! We always seemed to play harder, but there were never any hard feelings. Although the boys were much more likely to be sore losers. And far more likely to rub it in if they won. We hadn’t told our campers yet. But they were going to love this.

I had the inside door slightly propped open and the windows were up so there was a slight breeze coming in through the screens. Off in the distance I heard a voice that was unmistakably Sy.

“Come on Ethan don’t give up on me already man!” He called. I had no idea what they were doing, surely they weren’t already up to no good before 7am. I let some more time pass as a the rest of the girls got up and got ready for the day. Well almost all of them.

“Nicole.” I said softly shaking her arm, standing on my toes to reach the top bunk. She groaned.

“5 more minutes.” She grumbled. I chuckled to myself. This was the third time I’d tried to wake her.

“Come on sweetheart, you told me yesterday you wanted to be up by 7 its 7:25,” I said gently. I wasn’t necessarily a morning person myself. I understood where she was coming from.

“Well why did it have to come so early,” she sighed throwing her pillow over her head.

“It’s just the way the world works girly. Trust me when I was a camper I hated it too.” I giggled. “But I promise if you get up and get ready there will be coffee at breakfast.” I smiled. That got her attention. She sat up slowly. Her messy hair falling into her eyes.

“Ugh fine,” she said. “But none of the boys better say anything stupid, I’m not responsible for anything that comes out of my mouth before at least 9am!” I chuckled softly.

“Understood.” I said. And left her to get ready for the day. A few minutes before we needed to head over I had the girls meet me outside just to make sure everyone was accounted for. Of course Nicole was my last one out. I smiled to myself. When I saw the boys walking over to join us. A couple of the boys hunched over walking slowly with their hands holding their sides. When they stopped in front of our cabin Ethan dramatically “fell” and laid on the grass

“Morning ladies!” Sy smiled.

“Good morning!” I smiled back. And a few of the girls greeted them as well. “What’d you do to those poor boys?” I laughed.

“Nothing they didn’t ask for.” He chuckled.

“It was torture!” Ethan groaned lifting his head up to look at me from the ground. Beckett looked down at him shaking his head.

“Bro we just went on a run.” Beckett smirked.

“Exactly torture!” he groaned. Sy shook his head.

“You didn’t have to go bud, you coulda slept in,” he chuckled. Ethan sighed dramatically and took the hand Beckett offered him to help him stand.

“Can we go to breakfast now? We get it Ethan you don’t run, I want coffee!” Nicole said playfully pushing past him and walking toward the cafeteria.

“Good morning Nikki,” He called after her a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Shut up,” She bit back without turning around. To be fair she had warned me. I just shook my head holding in a laugh. Sy raised an eye brow and I just smiled as we all started to head in that direction.

“She’s…not a morning person.” I said answering the question hadn’t asked.

“I see that,” He chuckled “Everything go okay for you girls after the storm last night? I uh, I kept thinking about ya,” He smiled. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. Truth be told he was all I was thinking about every second my brain had the free time to wander. I tossed and turned for a while last night trying to shake the giddiness so I could just fall asleep. Being here with him. The way he’d kissed me last night. I felt like I was a teenager again. But with the girls around I had to play it cool. I had to be the remember I was the adult here. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Finally I nodded.

“Yeah the girls were fine, I think I was more shaken up then they were. Everything went pretty smooth this morning!” I said. “I didn’t know you were taking the boys on a run, how’d that go?” I asked. He laughed, keeping an eye on the campers that were now all ahead of us.

“It was good, I like to go for a morning run, so I asked the boys if they wanted to come with, I told them they could tell whoever they wanted to come with us. Couple boys from Tanners cabin showed up. They mostly enjoyed it. Ethan… just likes the attention he gets from putting on a show. Seems to be a good kid though.” He smiled. We walked in silence the rest of the short walk to the building where they served breakfast. There was a deck that came off the back of the building and overlooked the playground. I felt Sy’s hand on my back as we started walking up the steps. I bit my lip softly, embarrassed that such a little touch made me feel so much.

It was something he always did. He wanted to make sure I didn’t fall. Because I did once. When we were younger. It had rained that moring and the steps were slippery. I fell up the steps in front of everyone. My face had gotten so red. I remember being so embarrassed about it. Logan immediately ran over and helped me up. He said something to make me laugh to make me forget about it.

And ever since then he always did the small gesture as support. I didn’t think he’d remembered. But they do say old habits die hard. We caught up with our campers and joined them at our table. Nicole had already managed to get some coffee.

“Aw it’s our first breakfast as a family,” Emma said smiling at the two of us as we sat with them.

“Em don’t make breakfast weird!” Her brother called from across table.

“I’m not the cabins are literally called family groups! You’re the one that makes everything weird!” She argued. These two were hilarious. I found out very quickly, even just having been here a day, it’s best to just let them have their little twin spats. It’s usually over pretty quick.

“How was you’re walk this morning Ryleigh?” I heard Beckett ask as he slid into the seat across from her setting his plate down. She startled a moment not expecting someone to be infront of her and then realized what he’d said.

“Oh, it was good thanks,” She smiled shyly. “How, uh how was your run?” she asked him.

“It was nothing, I’m used to way more than that with football practice.” He shrugged. “You should come run with us next time,” He smiled. She blushed looking down at her pancakes.

“I don’t really run,” she responded.

I looked over at Logan who was grinning at me. He’d heard them too. I raised an eyebrow.

“Did I miss something?” I asked him. He just shook his head and chuckled.

After breakfast the kids had a bit of time to themselves before we started any activities. All of the cabins were supposed to meet on the field next to the park in about an hour or so. A few of the girls went back to the cabin to get the supplies to make friendship bracelets. And some of the other campers had a game of four square going.

Since most of ours were spread out around the park playing games, sitting on the grass talking, or making crafts I decided to sit on the old swings and journal. I didn’t have to watch so closely but I felt better keeping an eye on them. Ryleigh has still been pretty quiet and a couple of my other girls have taken some time to warm up and come out of their shell. I wanted to be close incase they wanted someone to talk to or just to sit with.

The last time I’d looked up Logan had joined the four square game and had worked his way up to the king square. I watched for a minute before I started writing. It wasn’t long before I got lost in my writing and everything in the background turned into white noise. Some time had passed I’m not sure how much but when I looked up again Sy was walking in my direction with a soft smile on his face.

“Hey darlin,” He said as he sat next to me.

“Hi!” I said cheerfully. “They finally kicked you out for being too old?” I teased. He gave me a slight pout before he snickered.

“No, I left the game because I kept winning.” He grinned proudly.

“Mhmm,” I mused. We sat like that for a moment sy had one arm on the back of the swing and he was rocking us slowly rolling his heel.

“Dad!” one of his boys called from across the lawn. Sy perked up and chuckled at the name before he responded.

“What’s up Zach?” He asked.

“When do we have to meet for the scavenger hunt thing?” He asked, still calling from across the park.

“11!” Sy called back checking his watch “You got a little over an hour,” He told him. Zach gave him a thumbs up and it was clear they were starting another game.

I couldn’t help the laugh that came out,

“Dad,huh? When did that start?” I raised an eyebrow. His chest shook with laughter.

“Last night when I got ‘em all corralled back into the cabin, I think Ethan started it and now they’re all doin’ it.” He shook his head. I giggled softly and we fell back into a comfortable silence. It was cute the boys seeing him as a father figure. I’m surprised the girls haven’t started calling me mom yet. I remember doing it when we were here too. It’s what gave this place that sense of home away from home. I liked that Idea. The kids calling us Mom and Dad. Like Sy and I were husband and wife…I blushed. I felt Sy’s eyes on me and my blush deepened. “You wanna go for a little walk with me? Get away for a second?” He asked.

I looked over at all of our campers. They were all preoccupied. All of them intermingled with kids from other cabins. Another group's counselors were sitting in old rocking chairs on the deck chatting. It’s not like we had to be watching over them at every second. They were old enough to know to come get us if something was urgent. Finally I looked back at him and nodded. “Okay,” I answered. I put my journal back in my backpack and slid it on as we started to walk.

“Ethan!” Sy called as we walked past. The boy's head snapped in our direction hearing his name, eyes wide like he was afraid he was in trouble. Sy chuckled and I watched Ethans shoulders relax a little. “Lainie and I are gonna be walking the trail, if you guys need anything you can come find us! I’m trusting you to let the others know .. that includes the girls.” He told him. Ethan nodded and gave him a big smile.

“You got it Dad! I won’t let you down!” He said. I shook my head as we kept walking.

“They adore you!” I laughed.

“Yeah well, I know how to have a good time!,” He smirked. Playfully nudging my shoulder with his. I blushed and pulled my sunglasses down to hide my eyes.

“Don’t I know it!” I replied, trying to keep up. This man was going to be the death of me. He looked over at me for a moment as we crossed the lawn between the cabins and kept going past them. That smirk still plastered on his face.

“You don’t yet Darlin, but you will,” he answered. I didn’t think my face could get any hotter. I looked around to make sure no one had heard our conversation.

“Good lord Logan, you trying to get us into trouble?” I whispered and smacked him playfully on the arm.

“I’m teasin’ baby,” He chuckled. “But we sure as hell wouldn’t be the first ones around here to sneak off and have a little fun.” He wiggled his eyebrows and I snorted.

“Yeah I know! You don’t have to remind me about the Cait and Josh situation. I can’t believe you helped him with that!” Back when we were campers Cait and Josh were friends of ours. They dated over the summer. They’d “break up” and then get back together every summer. It was such a mess. Josh was such a player and Cait knew it but she didn’t care.

One afternoon we were all off on our own. I was hanging out at the park and noticed Logan and one of their other bunkmates “Standing guard in front of the entrance underneath the big pirate ship on the playground. I was super confused because the guys were usually off playing some sort of sport or something. Sy caught my eye and I raised an eyebrow. He just shook his head with that signature smirk on his lips. But then they moved and Cait came crawling out, her hair was a mess. At first I was more confused, then Josh came crawling out behind her. That stupid satisfied grin on his face. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at them. And then ignored Logan the rest of the day. Just because. Of course we made up the next day, but I was annoyed with him for doing it.

Logan chuckled, pulling me back from the memory. “I was stupid teenage boy back then, you can’t hold that against me. When my buddy had an opportunity to get some, I wasn’t gonna stand in his way!” He stated. I rolled my eyes.

“You boys can be real pigs sometimes, you know it?” I said. We finally made it to the trail walking in the woods. The sun peeking down through the trees. It was so pretty but perfectly secluded when you needed it to be.

“I know, but I’ve never been anything short of a gentleman with you Darlin.” He argued.

“Oh so you throwing me in the lake the other day was an act of chivalry?” I questioned.

“You looked hot, thought you might wanna cool off.” He smirked.

“I think you were just being a dick.” I retorted.

“Mmm” He hummed still smirking and grabbed my hand leading me off the trail. “You're a lot feistier than I remember,” he challenged. He stopped and slowly walked me backwards until my back was pressed against the nearest tree. I bit my lip softly trying to keep my composure. I wasn’t going to let him win so easily.

“Yeah, What's so wrong with that?” I raised an eyebrow. He shook his head staring down at me, his eyes flickering to my lips before meeting mine again.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with it baby, just making it even harder for me to keep my hands off you.” I let out a shaky breath. Okay so maybe I would fold that easy. Shit that was smoothe. “The way you kissed me last night Darlin’” He paused, eyeing me hungrily. “I’m not so convinced you want me to.” He drawled. My breath hitched. I felt jittery all over. He had one hand next to my head leaning against the tree pinning me in place without even touching me. I swallowed hard.

“We should get back, the campers might…need us.” I said nervously. It was a lame excuse. Especially because I’d just convinced myself they’d be fine. But suddenly all the attention he was giving me felt like too much. His eyes softened and his smirk faded into a gentle smile. He brought his hand up caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“They’re big kids honey, they’re okay, tell me what’s really on your mind.” he cooed.

I took in a deep breath taking a small step away from the tree and resting my forehead against his broad chest.

“I’m scared.” I admitted. That’s the one thing I hated most about myself. People told me all the time I was confident and so brave. But I didn’t see how. I was so afraid all the time. So scared of everything. Scared of the dark, scared of falling, of getting hurt, of falling in love with a man just for him to leave. A lot of people have left. I guess that’s life, we grow up and we grow apart. But I don’t want to be left stranded with a broken heart. I’m scared that he’ll get hurt. What if I disappoint him and after all this time I’m not the girl he waited 7 years just to kiss. I don’t want to feel so damn scared. The thing is back then, when I was with Sy, all of that fear went away. And he’s proved all over again that he still knows how to fight my fears with me. But right now being with him is causing them just as much as it is fighting them. I feel like I’m stuck on an upside down roller coaster and there’s no ride operator to stop this thing.

“What for,” he asked, his fingers brushing through my hair, pulling me back from my emotional spiral.

I stood up straight and looked into his eyes. “Because I want to be with you so bad it physically hurts. In two days you’ve managed to make me feel more for you than I did all those years ago. But what happens after this? It’s no different than back then. What happens when summer’s over and we go our separate ways? I can’t do just another summer fling with you Logan. I fully intended to move on this whole time but against my own will I still waited for you! Like somehow I knew we’d come back to each other. But I can’t accept fate if you’re just gonna let me fall again.” I hiccupped through a silent sob.

Sy grabbed my face in both hands staring down at me intently.

“I never knew I hurt you so bad baby,” He said softly, swiping away my tears with his thumb. There he was using that word again. Claiming me as his before I have the chance to run myself.

“Y-you didn’t…it’s just…” I trailed off, my eyes shifting to the ground.

“Lainie Look at me,” hearing him say my name with such intensity broke my heart. I met his eyes again and I could see how much it had hurt him to know that I had been so sad all this time. “There isn’t a demon in hell that could keep me away from you. I’m not leavin’ you. I don’t know what I'm gonna be doin’ at the end of this summer, but I do know wherever I go it won’t be far from you. I’m not asking you to give yourself to me Darlin’ not if you ain’t ready. But just let me show you I never stopped wanting you.” His eyes were pleading and I would do anything I could to heal the hurt in his eyes right now. I nodded. Still holding my face he leaned down and crushed his lips to mine. I let out an involuntary whimper as I clutched his t-shirt pulling him closer.

The force of his kiss pushed me back against the tree. I felt his tongue push against my bottom lip and let him in lazily swiping my tongue against his. The taste so undeniably Sy. He let go of my face and held my waist against the tree and then pulled my bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned into my mouth as I ran my hands down his chest. And under his shirt desperate to feel his skin. I loved the way the soft hairs of his stomach and his chest felt under my fingertips. He pulled back from my lips and started trailing kisses across my jaw and down my neck. I moaned softly as I felt his teeth graze my neck soothing it with his tongue. If it weren’t for Sy holding me up I’d have melted into the ground by now. I needed to feel his lips on mine again. I took his face in my hands pulling him back to me. Meeting him in another heated kiss. I whined when he abruptly pulled away pouting softly. He chuckled but put a finger to his lips keeping me quiet.

In the distance down the trail I could faintly hear voices.

“Easy Darlin,” He smiled. “Sounds like one of our kiddos,” He spoke in a soft whisper. I strained to listen and he was right. It was very obviously Nicole… and

“Man I hope they aren’t far,” Ethan’s voice said from a few feet down the trail.

I looked up at Sy and he nodded grabbing my hand leading me back onto the trail.. We both came to the same conclusion, they were looking or us. And it sounded like they need help.

“Hey you two,” Sy said softly as we met up with them around a bend in the trees. Nicole’s eye’s went wide and she let out and exasperated breath.

“Ryleigh’s hurt!” she blurted out without explanation.

“What happened?” I asked them quickly.

“She and beckett were playing football and he was like teaching her how to throw and stuff and she tripped running to catch the ball.” Ethan answered.

“I think her ankle’s broken it’s like really bad!” Nicole added panicked. Sy took the lead running back on the trail having Ethan lead him back to Ryleigh and the others and Nicole and I jogged behind. She started to tear up a bit. “I’m sorry Lainie,” she sniffled. “I swear we were being good while you guys were gone we all wanted to give you two time together and.. We messed up,” I stopped her there. I laid my hand on her shoulder giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Nicole it’s okay, This is what we’re here for, you did the right thing coming to get us sweetheart.” she assured her.

“Is Ryleigh gonna be okay?” She asked. I nodded and gave her a gentle smile.

“We’ll make sure of it! Come on!” Nicole and I joined the others and Sy was already kneeling next to Ryleigh’s assessing the injury. Becca was there too, She must’ve been close by when it happened. I could see the tears streaming down Ryleigh’s face. The poor girl was in a lot of pain.

“It’s not your fault man,” I heard Logan say, Beckett was sitting in the grass next to her his hand on her shoulder the other nervously raking through his hair. Becca looked up at me when I approached.

“Do you think you two can get her too the nurse? I’ll stay here with your campers, and check in with everyone.” We both nodded.

“Can I come with?” Beckett asked. “I feel so bad,” He admitted. We looked to rebecca and she gave us a nod.

“It’s not your fault Beck” Ryleigh sniffled.Sy stood assessing the situation for a moment.

“Can you stand at all Darlin?” He asked her. She tried but immediately let out a whimper holding in her cry of pain.

“It’s okay hun,” I told her

“I’m gonna carry you, is that okay?” Logan asked. She nodded and he scooped her up off the ground and the three of us quickly started to walk to the nurses station. It was likely she would have to go to the hospital but we’d have to let the nurse asses it first.

“It’s nice of you to come keep her company.” I said giving Beckett a reassuring smile. He looked at me nervously and nodded. “Beckett,” I said softly. “It was an accident, you play football right, you see this stuff happen on the field all the time. She’s gonna be alright. She might hurt for a little bit but she’ll heal!” I said. He smiled a little and nodded.

“Thanks Lainie.”

At the nurses station they told us exactly what we had expected. They didn’t have an xray machine or anything so best they could tell was it was severely sprained and she’d need to go to the hospital to get it x-rayed to see if anything was broken. We called it in over our radio to Becca. She had to call Ryleigh’s parents to let them know and then she’d be there to wait for the ambulance to come take her. We checked with her to make sure if it was alright that we left her and Beckett alone to wait. She agreed that it’d be fine. Once we assured them again just to sit tight and everything would be okay we headed back to the rest of our campers.

“You okay?” Sy asked as we walked back. I let out a shaky breath.

“A little shaken up but I’ll be alright. You were great back there! I Couldn’t have done it without you,” I smiled. He put his hand on my my shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze and kissed my forehead.

“You did just fine darlin.” he smiled.

When we got back to the kids I noticed all the other family groups gathering on the field. The scavenger hunt I’d almost forgotten. We called all our kids together and had a group meeting.

“Okay, I know today has been kind of hectic,” I started. “But we’re gonna keep moving forward. And have a fun day!”

“Boys,” Sy said. “Todays all about competition and we’re gonna take the girls down!”

“Ladies, Sy’s an idiot and has no idea what he’s talking about! We’ve got this!”

It was time after our crazy chaotic stressful moring it was finally time for the fun to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#henry cavill #captain syverson #fanfic writing #henry cavill smut #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #captain syverson smut #august walker #august walker fanfiction #captain syverson fluff #captain sy x reader #captain syverson imagine #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagine

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kaulitzhotel · 10 months

Note

hii could u pls do sleepovers with the whole of tokio hotel in 2003-2005 pretty pls romantic or platonic idm!

(ps i adore ur style of writing)

Synopsis: You are having a sleepover with Tokio Hotel at the studio and a lot of things are about to be coming your way. (2004)

Content: Fluff.

Notes: Thank you so much! This was funny to make. Much love.

° 　. ● . ★ ° . *　　　° * 　.　 :　　:●. 　 *° :●. 　 * °

Fun, chaotic, and more fun!

“You be a good kid alright?” My dad said for the fifth time as he parked in the driveway of the studio.

“Yes, I know.” I groaned, “Can I go now?”

He gave me a pat on my shoulder and let me leave the car. I grab my sleeping bag and pillow from the back. I also grab the bag of chips and mini sodas I picked up at the market.

“If anything happens let me know.” My dad said out of suspicion. I mean who wouldn't be afraid to leave their 15-year-old daughter with a group of teenage boys?

“I'll be fine Dad!” I smiled at him and closed the door.

I enter the building and see no one. “Hellooo?”

“Y/N!” Bill came running out of the hallway. He came up to me and gave me a tight hug making me drop my stuff on the ground.

“Hi, Bill.” I giggled. I tried hugging him back as he suffocates me. He looked at my stuff that was on the floor and noticed the snacks. “This is perfect!” He snatched the snacks and ran to the lounge area where we were going to be sleeping.

I grab my other things and head over to the room.

“Hey everyone!”

“Y/N, I'm glad to see you.” Tom walked up to me to hug me. Gustav waved and Georg came to the side to hug me.

“So what are we doing tonight?” I asked them.

“All-nighters, movies, and some good old-fashioned hide and seek,” Tom said mischievously.

“Isn't that for kids?” Gustav implied.

“We are kids.”

Bill came in with the chips poured into the bowl and some other snacks they brought, “Let's eat first before we play.”

An hour later munching

“I'll find you guys,” Tom said rubbing his hands together swiftly.

He turned around and started counting. Georg hid behind the couch. Gustav went to hide behind some curtain. I went inside the studio room under the desk pushing my body to the corner. I thought it was perfect since the lights were off and it felt empty. That's when the door opened but I could hear Tom still counting.

“Who's there?” I whispered.

“It's your fav!” Bill whispered back, “I can't find anywhere to hide, and looks like someone beat me to the spot.”

“I was here first now go away!” I tried shooing him away.

“185... 186...” Tom said louder.

“Please! He's close to 190, let me hide with you.” Bill pleaded.

“Fine! But if you get us caught it's over.”

He jumped and clapped his hands together. He came under the desk with me squishing right next to me.

“190! Here I come.”

I and Bill sat there trying to not make any noises when we heard Gustav scream. He was found easily. It was a while till he found Georg. But being in this cramped space was making me sweat.

“Are you getting hot?” I started fanning my face.

“A little.” Bill fanned my face with me.

Tom still couldn't find us and me and Bill started chatting about random things. But I heard a sudden creak of the door opening. I covered Bill's mouth midway through his talking. Tom came up to the desk and before he could bend down...

“Tom, I think I see one of them outside!” Georg yelled.

And Tom ran out the door like a maniac.

I looked at Bill and he just stared at me. “Sorry!” I uncover his mouth. “It's okay.” Changing the mood he leaned his head on my shoulder and held onto one of my hands.

But footsteps ran into the room and Tom flashed us in the faces with a flashlight, “Tch, should've known.”

Bill left the corner and slapped the flashlight away, “I got my chance.” Tom followed him out the door. I sighed and left the room to go into the lounge area.

“Are you getting hungry?” Georg looked at me.

“Yeah, unfortunately, we are all the snacks.”

“Don't worry I made sure to get us some delivery. It should be coming anytime soon.”

“You're the best Georg.” I kissed his cheek making the other boys scoff at us.

“I want one too!” Gustav blocked Georg out of the way facing his cheek at me.

“Of course, anything for Gustav.” I pecked his cheek. The twins looked at me like they were waiting, “No both of you ruined Hide n Seek.”

Georg and Gustav laughed at the both of them.

By the time the food delivers

We were sitting at the table eating our Chinese food. Tom sat next to me with his box of noodles. “Would you recreate a romantic noodle scene with me?”

“That's with Italian food stupid.”

“Just one time.”

“If I wanted to kiss you I would.”

Tom complained and set his box down. He sat there with his arms crossed like a kid he was. Bill started talking to everyone about what their future work might bring for the band. “Y/N.”

“Yes, Tom what do you need--” I turned around and he placed a kiss on my lips.

Bill let out a gasp and Georg jumped over the table and sent both of them to the ground. Gustav joined in too. Bill held onto my head saying, “Everything is going to be okay.” If I were traumatized. It was going to be a long night.

° 　. ● . ★ ° . *　　　° * 　.　 :　　:●. 　 *° :●. 　 * °

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #fluff #imagine #x reader #boy bands #tokio hotel x reader #2000s

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bakugous-tits · 1 year

Text

Standing in the Sun

So! Since my old blog got hacked and deleted, I'm finally ready to come back! I'll just be posting a few of my faves for now, and this is number one to come back out! I love Mirio so much, and this was a labour of love for me to write but I'm so happy with it and I hope everyone enjoys it <3

Pairing: Mirio/Reader

Word Count: 14,031

Warnings: Soulmate AU, violence, awkwardness, smut but this one is fairly vanilla I believe? There is a creampie though!

Thank you and enjoy!

You were 16 when your mark showed up.

Everyone in school had laughed when it showed up, the child-like sun showing up on your wrist looking absolutely ridiculous. Most soul marks were a little more refined, looking like fancy tattoos more than anything.

Yours looked like an 8 year old’s interpretation of a sun, minus the cartoon sunglasses and poorly drawn smile.

It was so basic. One of your friends had an intricate rose across her ribcage, another had a detailed mountain range on his back-

And you had a simple sun.

What the fuck did that even mean?

In a world full of quirks it was always difficult to know whether your soul mark had something to do with your soulmate’s personality, hobbies, or their quirk; and with one as plain as yours, you figured that you’d never find your person. Were they someone with a light based quirk? Did they just like being outside?

Years later, you still didn’t know.

You stared down at your wrist, sighing as you leaned back on your sofa. The TV played on in the background, but you were unaware of what was on anymore, mostly using it as white noise at this point. The paperwork you’d been doing for your students was scattered around your coffee table in various piles, only half done. As a developing quirk advisor, you spent your days helping kids whose quirks had recently manifested to learn to control them, and spent your nights marking their progress through various reports for their parents and teachers. It was rewarding work, even if it took up almost all of your time in order to keep up with the number of kids under your care.

A glance over at the digital clock on your oven revealed that you’d been sat there for longer than you’d thought- it was starting to get late and you still hadn’t even thought about what to eat. Stretching your arms over your head, you groaned in satisfaction at the way your joints popped. Leaving your paperwork on the table, you ran a hand over your pomeranian’s head as he napped next to you on the sofa, ignoring his little grumble as you stood up. You smiled at his grumpiness as you padded over to your kitchen, only to groan when you opened the fridge.

Nothing. Nothing you could use to make a substantial meal anyway, and the way your stomach was growling at you said that a snack wasn’t going to cut it. Your eyes dragged over to Chibi when he raised his head to glare at you, as if he knew what you were thinking already. As you closed the fridge you smirked, tilting your head at him. “Hey buddy, you want to go for a walk?”

Chibi snorted, turning around in place on the sofa and flopping down, his back facing you.

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

After 20 minutes and a lot of unnecessary furry struggling, Chibi was reluctantly trotting along the pavement beside you as you headed to a nearby ramen shop that knew you by name. You smiled down at him fondly as you walked, knowing that even though he likely hated you right now he’d be back to snuggling you in bed later.

A small commotion further up the street stole your attention away from your companion, your head shooting up at the shrill scream that tore through the air. A woman was on the ground, having been pushed down by a large man that was running around the corner-

A man who was currently barrelling toward you.

Before you could even react, he’d crashed into you and sent you crumbling to the ground, Chibi’s leash flying out of your grip as you fell. You cried out as you hit the pavement, the breath knocked from your lungs momentarily as you registered the footsteps of more people running towards you. Scrambling to grab Chibi’s leash, your heart was in your throat as you watched him jump away from all the people sprinting past. He yelped as he ran out into the (thankfully empty) street, little legs pumping and taking him away from you.

You watched him go with frantic eyes, only looking away from him briefly to glance at the incoming group of people.

Heroes.

While part of you was relieved that the brute that knocked you down was going to be taken care of, your focus was quickly drawn back to the rapidly disappearing canine that was running still. Pushing yourself up quickly, you took to chasing him on your own, the other civilians in the area too distracted by the hero chase to really pay attention to your frantic calls of your dog’s name.

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

You still hadn’t found him.

You’d been searching for what felt like hours already, calling out his name between sobs. As your only companion, Chibi was probably an attachment that would be considered unhealthy at this point but he was your world. Losing him would be a huge blow, and it had your heart pounding in fear at what could have possibly happened to him.

“Excuse me, Miss? Is this little guy the one you’re looking for?”

Whipping around quickly, you gasped at the sight of Chibi panting heavily in someone's arms, not even looking up at the person straight away. You choked out his name, your arms shooting out to grab him as you sobbed out a yes to the stranger. Chibi happily snuggled into you as you held him close to your chest, licking at your cheeks before settling in your arms. You finally looked up to thank the stranger, relief flooding you as your eyes flicked up to meet-

Blue. His eyes were so blue.

And he was big . The man towered over you, the brightness of his outfit surprising you for a moment before you realised that he was a hero . And not just any hero either, this was Lemillion . His grin was still boyish despite the fact that he had to be in his mid twenties by now, not too far from your own age. Your mouth hung open, your eyes rapidly tracing over him as he chuckled at your response.

From what you remembered seeing back in your school days from the sports festivals, Lemillion had always been big, but now that he’d graduated and become a pro hero, the baby fat was completely gone. He was all hard planes of muscle, broad shoulders and massive arms, and god damn those thighs looked powerful. But as your eyes returned to his face, a heat coming to your cheeks at so blatantly checking him out, you realised that there was definitely a boyish charm to his look.

“Sorry it took me so long to find him! I saw the whole thing before but he’s fast ! And even when I caught up to him he was so grumpy at first! You’ve got a little spitfire there!” Lemillion was looking down at Chibi in your arms with almost the same fond expression you’d had before everything happened. You reached a hand up to swipe the tears from your cheeks, sniffling once before getting yourself together and smiling at him.

“Thank you for finding him for me, I didn’t think it’d really be a priority when there was something like that going on…” Lemillion blinked at you for a second before laughing, reaching out to stroke the top of Chibi’s head softly.

“There were plenty of heroes around to catch that guy, and he was nearly out of steam anyway! When I saw this guy run off I knew I had to do something to help, so I split off and hunted him down. He’s a smart cookie though! Knew to take the back streets and alleys, and when I found him he was huddled in a bush!” Lemillion’s hand moved down to scratch under Chibi’s chin, the canine’s eyes squinting in satisfaction. “Now that you’ve got him though… It’s pretty late, you should be getting home! After all that excitement, both you and the little guy probably need to rest.”

You opened your mouth to thank him one last time before you left, but halted when your stomach grumbled loudly. Your face flushed with heat once again as Lemillion’s eyed dropped to your stomach, his eyes widening in understanding after a moment.

“Oh! You haven’t eaten yet? Well, if it’s okay with you… d’you wanna grab something to eat with me? My patrol is over now and I’m starving!”

You blinked. Lemillion wanted to have dinner with you? You knew from the various people who posted about him online that he was a friendly hero, but this seemed a little over the top…

But the look on his face was open, genuine, like it was something he did all the time. You couldn’t help but nod, a small smile on your lips.

“Sure, but you have to let me treat you, okay? As a thank you for rescuing Chibi…” You raised the arm holding your dog, gesturing to him with your head and rolling your eyes playfully. Lemillion’s face tinted pink, his head shaking and a protest that you could already hear starting to form. “And I won’t take no for an answer, mister, so just accept it.”

Lemillion almost seemed bashful as he nodded, even though he was the one who boldly offered in the first place. As you led him back to your favourite ramen shop, you chatted amicably about mundane things. You didn’t pick up on it straight away, but by the end of the walk you had caught him staring at you a few times as you walked, eyes always tracing over your face. As you sat down at the table in the little shop, placing Chibi on the chair next to you, you gave him a curious look.

“Is something wrong?” Lemillion’s face blazed at your question as he sat down across from you, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and chuckling nervously. His eyes avoided you, instead focusing on the menu as he cleared his throat.

“Nothing! It’s fine, don’t worry about it!”

You ended up dismissing the thoughts and focusing on food yourself, and soon enough the two of you had your orders and were tucking into them heartily. The shop owner (who knew you very well from your years of coming here, and absolutely loved Chibi.) even provided your little man with some strips of meat, patting him softly on the head before toddling off to serve other customers. As you ate, you stole glances at Lemillion, catching him watching you a few times again and both of you quickly breaking eye contact and looking away.

You couldn’t shake a nagging feeling in the back of your head, a feeling you weren’t able to identify constantly swimming at the edges of your mind. It felt… warm. Like even though you two just met, you’d known each other longer than that, and that this was just another comfortable hangout among many others.

In reality, his costume was drawing curious eyes as people passed the ramen shop. You bristled slightly when a couple of teenage girls came up to your table requesting an autograph, unsure of why you had a pit in your stomach at his resulting smile. The girls were fawning over him and somehow, it put you off the rest of your food, making you put down your utensils and push it away from you slightly. You focused on stroking Chibi’s head, giving the dog your full attention as Mirio fielded their questions and signed some of their belongings. When he finally waved goodbye to them and turned back to you, your previously happy mood had dimmed and you were simply getting tired, the emotional nature of the evening finally catching up with you. Lemillions eyes widened as you yawned, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the time before slapping his forehead dramatically.

“Oh man! I didn’t realise how late it was! We should get you home, right?” Nodding your head, you quickly pulled out some money to pay for both of your meals and picked Chibi up once again. You waved to the owner of the restaurant as you walked out, ignoring her pointedly raised brows when she looked between you and Lemillion, and stepped out into the cool night air. Crossing your arms over Chibi, you were glad you’d pulled a hoodie on before you left the house earlier, the night having cooled considerably already.

Lemillion took a deep breath and set his hands on his hips, smiling up at the night sky for a second before turning to face you.

“That was some good food! Thanks for showing me this place, I might have to come back sometime.” His head tilted to the side as he noticed you wrap your arms a little tighter around Chibi, a frown twisting his face slightly. “Are you cold? Here, let me just…”

Lemillion reached up, fiddling with where his cape meets his costume for a moment before the fabric came loose, reaching out to wrap it around your shoulders gently. Your eyes widened for a moment as you unwrapped one arm from around Chibi’s belly, clutching the cape closed and looking down to the floor sheepishly, heat rising in your cheeks again. Lemillion fiddled with the fabric until he was satisfied with its placement, smiling at you gently and gesturing for you to lead the way. He was going to walk you home?

The heat in your cheeks stayed firmly in place, your stomach flipping even as you internally berate yourself. He’s a hero, of course he’s going to be nice to you. Don’t look into it too much, it doesn’t mean anything to him . Forcing your feelings to chill the fuck out, you started walking toward your home and gave Lemillion a soft smile as he fell into step beside you. The walk wasn’t all that long, the two of you chit chatting as you went and Chibi resting comfortably in your arms and panting as he watched the world go by. Lemillion seemed to be showing actual interest in you and your work when he asked questions, throwing you for a loop and making your stomach flip flop dramatically even though you knew he was just doing his job as a hero.

As you walked, your mind started to wander. You couldn’t understand why you felt so… relaxed? That wasn’t quite the right word, but the feeling in the back of your mind refused to show itself any further to let you identify it. This was a hero, a man you’d never met before that night, but you were walking and talking like you’d known each other for years, laughing and poking fun at anything and everything. Lemillion’s sense of humour was… odd at times, but you found yourself enjoying it nonetheless. You almost felt… upset when you arrived back at your house, a soft frown on your face. Lemillion noticed, because of course he did, and raised a brow at you in question.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice was softer than it had been all night, and it made something in your chest twist. You ignored the feeling, schooling your features and smiling up at him with a nod.

“Of course! Well, this is me! Thank you so much, Lemillion, count me as one of your ‘million people saved’, okay?” Your joking words had him smiling widely, hands going to his hips once again.

“Don’t mention it! Have a good night, okay?” With those parting words, Lemillion turned with a mock salute and headed off into the night. You smiled after him for a moment, before making your way into your house, letting Chibi down and removing his harness. The dog immediately ran over and settled himself into his spot on the sofa, huffing as he lay down to fall asleep.

You groaned when you realised that Lemillion had forgotten to take his cape from you. As you held the material in your hands, you sighed and buried your face into it for a second. It still smelled like him, something citrusy and light, but still distinctly masculine, and you cringed when it occurred to you that this was super creepy . You can’t just sniff a guy’s cape like that!. You folded the fabric carefully, placing it on the small table by the front door in case he realised and came back for it, before removing your hoodie to hang it up by the front door.

You failed to notice that rapidly fading glow of your soul mark on your wrist, too focused on staring fondly at your canine companion.

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

Lemillion never came back for his cape, but you saw a news story a few days later about a rescue he’d been part of and he had a new one, so you figured he wasn’t all that bothered.

You started using it as a throw on the sofa, snuggling up with Chibi under it when you were watching TV in the evenings, hoping he never came back for the damn thing. It was the perfect thickness to provide comfort, but thin enough not to overheat you, and it was so damn soft . You loved it.

The whole encounter became just another crazy story you could tell your friends and coworkers. Lemillion found your lost dog, had dinner with you and walked you home- who else could say that? In the weeks following the event, you told it countless times, until everyone already knew and it started to fade from your repertoire. Some of them were jealous, others told you you should have dragged him into your home and had your way with him. You always felt heat rise in your cheeks at that, shaking your head vehemently to deny the idea. He was hot, sure, but he was a hero , and you were just a simple everyday woman.

Once the novelty wore off, you threw yourself back into your work. One of your students had been struggling a lot with her quirk- it had manifested recently and was a mutation, so none of her family were really able to help her all that much with learning how to control it.

Your own quirk was almost perfectly suited to your job: Empathy. You were able to feel the emotions of others when you concentrated on them, and with time you learned how to influence their emotions too. This meant that when your students were scared, frustrated or angry, you were able to calm them down a little and help them see the situation clearly.

Growing up, you hadn’t really known how to apply your quirk most helpfully. You’d never really wanted to be a hero, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to help people, and it was only when you were volunteering to help a neighbor out with their young child that it occurred to you.

Man, I wish I had your quirk! Being able to calm this little one down during a tantrum would make my life ten times easier!

And with those words in mind, you realised what you wanted to do. Helping others by helping the next generation of heroes get to grips with their quirks, help them grow and flourish- it was perfect. Many years of studying and internships later, you were finally one of the best in the city, sought after by many schools for their problem children. It was exhausting, but you’d never trade it for anything now.

This particular little girl- Mika- had a quirk that allowed her to create storm clouds. Not just rain, but thunder and lightning too, and since she came from a family with all ground based quirks they were out of their element with her. The school had contacted you a while ago when she accidentally started making clouds inside the classroom when she got upset or didn’t understand something, and then became scared at the thunder. It would make her produce more clouds, only making the situation worse and ending with lots of the students in tears.

Mika was a quiet girl, a little on the shy side but with a heart of gold, and you wanted to help her so damn bad. She idolised heroes, and wished for a different quirk every day because she didn’t think she could become one with hers. As you were walking home from your most recent session with her, lost in your head, you didn’t even see someone exiting the shop next to you.

You crashed into what felt like a brick wall, your ass hitting the ground harshly as you dropped your work bag. Your eyes had closed in surprise, but shot open when you heard a familiar voice.

“Oh-! I’m so sorry- Hey, it’s you!” Lemillion stood in front of you yet again, although this time in civilian clothes. You gaped up at him and blinked, before scurrying to your feet, grabbing your bag and shaking your head.

“No! It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention…” Your eyes drifted to the takeout bag in his hand, before glancing up to see that-

You were outside the ramen shop. He’d come back after all. Noticing your wandering gaze, he looked up to follow your eyes and chuckled, one arm coming up to rub a hand over the back of his head sheepishly.

“I uh- I really liked our dinner the other week, so I’ve been coming back here a few times since then.” Lemillion’s cheeks flushed, and you raise a brow. He almost seemed embarrassed, but you didn’t understand why until he spoke up again, uncharacteristically quiet. “And I was- well, I was kind of hoping to run into you again to be honest…”

Your heart kicked into overdrive for a second, your stomach flipping again until you realised- his cape. He probably just wanted it back, not to actually see you , because why would you even register on his radar? You were just a person he’d saved once. One of his million.

“O-oh, of course… If you’d be willing to walk home with me I can give it back right away, sorry for taking it in the first place but I didn’t really know how to give it back…” Your eyes didn’t lift from your hands, readjusting your bag and making sure all of your files were in place and that nothing had fallen out. When you finally looked up, Lemillion had a confused look on his face, his head tilted slightly. You raised a brow, your brows furrowing slightly. “...Your cape? That’s why you were trying to find me, right?”

Lemillion blinked at you, before bursting into laughter. All you could do was stand there, confused, people passing by giving you odd looks as they hurried past the hysterical man. He managed to reign it in, swiping at one of his eyes as his breathing began to level out.

“Oh, man! I forgot I even left it with you! I’ve had so many spares made over the years so I don’t really notice when my team swaps ‘em out.” The smile he gave you was genuine- and the softness in his eyes as he gazed down at you made something in your chest flutter before you could stop it. But you do- you had to stop being like this, you’d only met the man once and he saved so many people in one day, there was no way you were ever going to register on his radar and you refused to get your hopes up.

Besides, you had a soulmate out there somewhere who was waiting for you, you couldn’t let yourself get hung up on him just because he was lovely, and had nice eyes and you wanted to bite his thighs and rub your hands all over his pecs and-

Stop it .

You took a deep breath, shaking your head slightly. If it wasn’t his cape, then why the hell was he looking for you? Opening your mouth to ask, Lemillion cut you off before you could even speak.

“I wanted to speak to you about the kids you work with and if maybe we could set up some kind of group meet and greet, or something. I know it always motivated me to work hard at figuring out my quirk when I saw heroes in action as a kid, so imagine what it might do to actually meet one!” And there it was. The rational explanation that helped cut your thoughts off, despite the fog of hurt that suddenly swirled in your chest. This was for the best, you didn’t need to obsess over a man who’s world was so far removed from your own. You cleared your throat, adjusting your bag over your arm as you smiled up at him.

“Seems like a good idea, yeah! If you’re not too busy, that is…”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t think I’d have time.” Lemillion rubbed at the back of his head, digging into his pocket for a moment. “So, I think it would probably be a good idea if we swapped numbers- to organise something, of course, just to keep in contact more easily.” There was something odd about his face as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, but you didn’t have a chance to dwell on it before he was handing you the object and prompting you to fill in your information. Once you’d shared your contacts, you asked him if he’d like to wait at the shop for you to go retrieve his cape. The hero laughed, waving you off.

“Like I said, I didn’t even realise it was gone! You may as well keep it.” You went to protest, only to be cut off by his phone ringing in his hand. As he answered the call, he gave you an apologetic look, muttering softly to the person on the other side before hanging up. “Shoot, they need me back at the agency- here, I won’t have time to eat it now, so you may as well have my order. At least it won’t go to waste then, right?”

Without waiting for a response, he placed the bag in your hand and darted off, your jaw dropping as you looked after him. With a heavy sigh, you trudged home and set the takeaway on the kitchen counter, Chibi circling at your feet in excitement. Opening the bags to inspect what he’d bought, something fluttered in your chest when you saw the contents.

Lemillion had ordered the exact things you’d both had on the night you’d met.

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

This was getting ridiculous.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about a man you’ve only met in person twice .

Lemillion was just too nice, too lovely, though, and as you texted back and forth in the weeks following your second meeting you couldn't help the little flip flops that your stomach went through when you saw his name light up your phone screen. The man was always so happy in his texts, so understanding when you ended up delving into the more serious discussions about your students.

It was playing absolute havoc on your heart.

It was finally the day before Lemillion would be coming into your afterschool class to meet your students, the whole thing set up as a surprise for the youngsters. Putting down your phone after sending him a text to confirm that everything was still good to go, you sighed and turned your hand over to stare at your soulmate mark. This wasn’t fair. There was someone out there for you, and here you were getting all worked up over a man way out of your league. You shook your head, letting your arm drop down onto your bed, curling up further onto your side and closing your eyes.

“What are you doing…? Just- stop it. It’ll never work. He probably already has his soulmate, so there’s no point…” Murmuring to yourself softly, your eyes shot open when your phone buzzed next to your face on the pillow. Lemillion’s name filled your screen, your heart kicking up a gear as you swiped to open the message.

Lemillion: All good on my end! As long as there’s no emergencies tomorrow, I should be there around 3! I can’t wait to see you!

And there was your heart, pounding even heavier as the chat bubbles came up again, signalling him typing once more.

Lemillion: And the kids, obviously! Haha, that’s the main thing tomorrow, isn’t it!

Your heart calmed down a little, but heat remained in your cheeks from his words. He hadn’t corrected himself, he’d just added on the kids. Did that mean-?

Groaning, you turned your face into your pillow. You really needed to stop this, damn it. You peeked one eye out when your phone buzzed with an alert. Tapping on the notification, you were taken to a news page about a fight that had broken out earlier in the day. Your heart swelled when you caught sight of a certain blonde hero, a video showing him engaged in a hand to hand fight with a villain that was attempting to rob a bank. The villain couldn’t land a single hit, Lemillion’s permeation quirk frustrating him more and more as the hero kept punching him over and over. Eventually, the villain fell to the floor after a particularly solid hit to the face, knocked out and drooling on the floor.

The determined look in Lemillion’s eyes throughout the fight only made you admire him more, his drive to protect the civilians from harm and save as many people as possible… He truly was an inspiration. You tapped out of the video, going back to your messages with the hero. Sighing once again, you decided to turn in.

After sending him a thumbs up and wishing him goodnight, you plugged your phone in and turned over, closing your eyes once more and attempting to fall asleep so you wouldn’t be completely knocked out the next day. The last thoughts in your mind swirled around him, head filled with visions of his eyes, the sounds of his laugh.

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

Hot. It was so hot, sweat dripping down your spine as you perched on the edge of the bed, your ass raised high and your face buried in the covers. Hands were clasped around your waist, big and reassuring as the man leaned forward to place kisses across your shoulders, a whine sticking in your throat as you arched into him. You felt his lips stretch into a smile at your movements before he straightened, one of his hands leaving your waist to move between your legs, the tip of his finger circling your clit and forcing a moan from your chest. Starting at a teasing pace, his finger gradually got faster, making your legs shake and hands grasp the sheets where they were stretched above your head.

Somehow you were already dripping wet, your walls aching to be filled, clenching around nothing. A deep chuckle met your ears as he removed his hand, the feeling of something much thicker taking its place as he rubbed the head of his cock against your clit. Trying to push back against him, you gasped when he softly swatted at your ass, laughing once again.

Your wishes were granted when you felt him start to push into you, your jaw dropping open at the stretch of him- long, thick and heavy inside you. He gave you a minute to adjust to him, before he started to move. His thighs hit against your ass with each pump of his hips, leaving you achingly empty when he drew back and pulling moans from you when he pushed back in.

“Always take me so well, baby, so good…”

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

You jolted awake, sweat covering your skin and the sheets kicked off around your legs. Chest heaving, you reached up to wipe the sweat from your brow, noting the mess of wetness between your thighs.

That voice… That was Lemillion…

You shook your head, reaching over to grab your phone and check the time. With only about 20 minutes before you had to get up to get ready for work anyway, you switched off your alarm and slunk into the shower to clean up. It felt so real, the warmth of his hands on your skin almost lingering on you even in the heat of the shower.

After staying under the hot spray for much longer than was strictly necessary, you managed to pull yourself together and sat down for a small breakfast, wondering how the fuck you were going to look Lemillion in the eyes today after that dream. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and forced yourself to calm down.

Damn it, I’m a professional! I can do this.

Breakfast cleared, you grabbed your bag and your files, patting Chibi on the head softly before leaving for the day, the dog looking up at you with a huff to see you off.

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

“What’s the surprise, huh? We wanna know!”

“Why’d we gotta wait ‘till after school? Tell us!”

“ Please? ”

The kids were practically frothing at the mouth when you told them you had a surprise waiting for them during their last official lesson of the day, many of them getting frustrated when you refused to tell them what was happening during your session after official school hours ended. While most of the kids in this class had a good handle on their quirks, there were more in here that struggled than any other class so for the time being you had a group session with them one day a week. The kids with more difficulty had individual sessions with you on other days, like Mika.

Your eyes drifted over to her where she sat quietly in the corner of the class, fiddling with a keychain on her backpack. As the other kids began packing up their things, you wandered over to where she was sitting and crouched down to her height, smirking when you realised what she was messing with.

A Lemillion keychain.

“Do you like Lemillion, Mika?” The little girl jumped at your voice, but smiled when she realised you were asking her about her accessory. The smile spread as she looked down at it and nodded, her fingers tracing the raised metal that framed a cartoon version of the hero. You pulled the sleeves of your cardigan further over your wrists as you raised a brow at her.

“He’s my favourite! He’s strong, and nice, and he saves so many people!” Resting your hand on the top of her head softly, you gave her a grin. “I wanna be a hero like him! I wanna save lotsa people just like Lemillion!”

“I just know you can do it, Mika! Work hard, and you can be just like him!” You straightened and headed back towards the door, leaning against the frame as you waited for the kids to be ready to leave. A buzzing in your pocket had you pulling out your phone.

Lemillion: I’m in the gym, ready to go! Can’t wait!

Placing your phone back into your pocket, you clapped your hands as the kids lined up in front of you, getting their attention. They quieted down quickly, eager to find out what their surprise was. You led them easily through the school grounds until you got to the gym, pausing outside the door and clearing your throat as you turned to your group.

“Okay guys, I need you to listen to me closely! Your surprise is in here, and I know you’re all gonna be excited, but please remember your manners, okay?” Murmurs erupted through the group, brows furrowing in confusion until you opened the door and ushered them in. Collective gasps filled the room as the group finally saw their prize: Lemillion, in the flesh, standing in the middle of the gym. Your eyes strayed to Mika, taking in the shining of her eyes and the way her jaw dropped before she looked back at you. She grinned, a look mirrored on your own face, before her eyes returned to her hero.

The next hour or so was mostly Lemillion fielding questions, signing things and hyping the kids up, many of them leaving with their parents afterwards with smiles filling their faces, as well as new determination. You had to hand it to him- he’d been right about this encouraging the kids, but there was one more thing you wanted to squeeze out of the experience.

“Mika?” the girl in question looked up at you, still clutching her backpack with careful hands. Lemillion had signed it for her, and you had a feeling that it was now her prized possession. “Can you come here for a moment?”

Having already cleared an extra fifteen minutes with her parents, you knew this would be just what the girl needed to help with her quirk. As she approached, you looked over to Lemillion once again, meeting his eyes and tilting your head down towards her. A look of understanding filled his face as he walked towards you, his smile returning as he approached Mika and yourself. Mika looked sheepish, especially now that everyone else had left, but Lemillion gave her a soft smile as he crouched down.

“Hiya Mika! I hear you’ve been having a little trouble with your quirk?” The girl’s smile fell, her eyes drifting down to the floor as she nodded her head. “Well, would you believe me if I told you that I had a really hard time with my quirk when I was your age?”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, shaking her head slowly. The smile never left his face as he began to explain his quirk to her in a little more detail, telling her how dangerous it had been for him at first. Mika’s eyes shined at the information, her fists clenching slightly in front of her chest.

“It was hard work, because even though my pops has the same quirk, he never learned how to use it like I do! I had to figure it out all on my own, sorta like how you’re figuring out your quirk too! And a lot of the time I was scared of my quirk, so me and you are practically the same!”

Mika froze, her eyes widening. You held your breath, hoping beyond all hope that this was what she needed to get her out of the slump she’d been drifting into. Lemillion tilted his head with a broad smile, and Mika’s eyes filled with tears as she smiled back at him. Her posture straightened as she swiped at her eyes, that same determined glint in them that you’d seen on the other students. She gave him an intent nod, sniffling slightly.

“I’ll work hard, Lemillion! Just like you!” Mika’s parents entered just as she made her bold claim, Lemillion laughing and ruffling her hair as he stood up. They came over, thanking the hero profusely and chatting for a moment before ushering a highly excited Mika from the gym. You heaved a sigh of relief as the door swung shut behind them, resting your hands on your hips as you swung your head around to look at Lemillion.

“Thank you for that, I was really struggling to get through to her but I think you did it!” A smile on your face, you rubbed at one of your arms with your other hand, a little bashful. “I think she’ll be okay thanks to you. Another citizen saved, Lemillion.”

Lemillion grinned, giving you a thumbs up and nodding his head. As you helped him pack up, you kept feeling his eyes on you, always averting when you turned to make eye contact. When you finished, he cleared his throat and approached you, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Thanks for letting me do this! It was super fun, and I think it helped the kids a lot.” You nodded to him, giving him a smile in return. As you exited the gym with your things, Lemillion holding the door for you, you looked up to see the sky darkening with clouds rather quickly. He came up beside you, letting the door swing shut behind him and glancing up himself. “Oh shoot, looks like it’s gonna rain pretty hard… Did you walk here?”

You nodded your head, searching through your bag for your umbrella and raising it with a flourish once you dragged it from the depths. A frown seemed to be cemented on Lemilion’s face, making you raise a brow at him. “I’ll be fine, it’s only about fifteen minutes from here if you know the shortcuts like I do!” He shook his head once, placing his fists on his hips as he sighed and looked at the floor, only raising his head again when you made a questioning noise.

“Only one thing for it. I’ll have to walk you home again to make sure you get there safely.” His words made your jaw drop, a scoff escaping before you could stop it. A grin snuck onto his face once again, that same pinkness returning to his cheeks. “It’s my duty as a hero, and it’s starting to get late! Don’t say no- I’ll do it either way so you may as well accept it.”

With a sigh, you decided that maybe walking home with him again wasn’t so bad. The fluttering in your chest was impossible to ignore, and it gave you more time with the hero so- who were you to complain, really?

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

Ten minutes later, you were sure he’d regret his actions.

He was dripping wet, the rain having come down hard and fast shortly into your walk and the wind picking up to the point where your umbrella was useless. You weren’t faring much better yourself, trying to shelter your bag as best you could with all your files inside it. The duffel bag he had with him was a little more resistant to water, but even that would only go so far and you could see the bag changing colour as the water started to seep into it. When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sped up a little, jerking your head toward the door when you finally got there and trudging into the hallway with a groan, Lemillion following you in for a brief respite from the rain.

Looking up at him with his hair flopping into his eyes limply, water dripping off it, you couldn’t help but admire him. He still had a sparkle in his eyes even as he shivered slightly, trying to wring out his cape a little in the entryway to not let it drip all over your floor. Chibi came barrelling over, sniffing at the newcomer with intent as he realised someone had come home. Lemillion smiled broadly as he bent down, stroking the top of the pom’s head and tickling under his chin.

“Hey little guy! Good to see you again!” You dropped your bag to the floor, looking at the hero with a scrutinising eye. He turned to you, tilting his head at your study of him and looking down at his outfit with furrowed brows. “What? Is something wrong?” “Are you done for the day or do you have to rush off?”

He blinked at you. You blinked back at him.

When he finally shook his head no, you nodded yours and started removing your shoes.

“You can shower and wait here for the rain to stop if you want, don’t want a hero like you catching a cold, now do we?” You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, though your heart was thundering in your chest. Would he take this the wrong way? You just didn’t want to be the reason he got sick, and it really was throwing it down outside. He seemed to hesitate, making heat rise to your face as you finally wriggled a boot off. “You don’t have to, but I just thought I’d offer.”

When you looked up at him, his face had softened, making your heart thud painfully for a second at the look in his eyes. He sighed, reaching up to rub at the back of his head again.

(You definitely didn’t admire the way his arm flexed. Nope. No sir.)

( You did. )

“Y’know, I think that’d be gre-” His phone rang in the side pocket of his duffel bag, making him wince as he checked the ID. Tamaki . He raised a finger to you, an apologetic look on his face as he spoke quietly into the phone. You tried not to listen in, frowning as you headed further into your apartment and scratched at Chibi’s head softly when he followed you.

Tamaki. That was the pro hero Sun Eater, Lemillion’s close friend- or were they more than friends? They’d always been very close from what the tabloids reported, even close enough for a few to claim that they were together romantically, but it was never confirmed. What if they were soulmates? It would make sense, they often spent days off together, often worked together extremely well on missions, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch…

“Sorry ‘bout that! I- uh- I have to go meet someone, he really needs me right now and-” “It’s fine! You go do whatever you gotta do, no harm, no foul! Just try and get out of the rain fast, okay? I don’t want you getting sick.” Your words came out fairly neutral, you hoped, the smile on your face only slightly forced. Lemillion frowned, another apology spilling from his lips as he left your house quickly.

You looked down at Chibi with a sigh, the dog tilting his head at you and wagging his tail slowly.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

Chibi simply huffed, heading over to his food bowl and placing a paw on it, looking at you imploringly. You shook your head fondly, going to feed the little gremlin before he got too grumpy with you.

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

How you ended up here was beyond your comprehension, really.

Your talks with Lemillion never ceased after the meet and greet. The hero always found time to text you, or call if he needed his hands free while he was cooking or something, forming a rather… odd friendship? There was no one else you spoke to as often, but you also still hardly knew the man. Your little crush, however, didn’t care in the slightest and continued to grow with each day. Trying to hide it was getting easier with time, though, the way you two spoke becoming more and more comfortable, and you didn’t understand why he was really bothering with you in the first place. When you asked him, he had simply chuckled and said a very cryptic I just have to! I’m not too sure why, but I always follow my instincts!

Whatever that meant.

The colder months had creeped in, the leaves changing colour rapidly and the weather turning almost before your eyes. Lemillion- no, Togata , as he had started insisting you called him- was telling you about an upcoming hero gala while you cooked dinner. You had him on speaker phone as you cooked, the man walking home from his patrol as he chatted away. Not properly listening as you cooked, you only caught the end of what he was saying.

“-So you should come too! It’d be fun, and I can introduce you to the others!”

You choked, lowering the heat on your stove as you scrambled over to your phone on the opposite countertop.

“I’m sorry- what?! You want me to-?”

“Yeah! I think it’d be great, don’t you?” Swallowing thickly, your tongue felt too big for your mouth and you sputtered slightly. “Nejire has been asking about you, and Tamaki wants to meet you too! Plus we can hang out properly for a while, please come with me?”

Your face flushed, your heart kicking up a gear as you thought about it. He wanted to go with you? You’d be out of your element around a bunch of heroes but- you couldn’t deny that you wanted to spend more time with him…

“Sure…?” Togata’s answering cheer had you smiling softly at your phone, shaking your head slowly in fondness as you returned to cooking your dinner.

Which led you to the situation of incomprension.

Weeks later, you’d procured a beautiful long sleeved dress, just thick enough to stave off the cool temperature without a jacket so you could be comfortable. You’d made your way to the venue in a car Togata ordered for you, texting him on the way and smiling when he said he’d meet you at the entrance. As the car pulled up, you saw him standing at the edge of the curb and your breath caught.

The suit he was wearing was perfectly tailored, sharp lines and fabric clenched around his thick arms and thighs. His face lit up as the car stopped, his hand already outstretched to get the door for you. When you stepped out, his jaw dropped as he took you in.

“W-Wow! You look amazing!” Heat flooded your system at his words, forcing you to look down and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Togata…” He chuckled as he closed the door, gesturing toward the venue with a grin. You made your way inside with him, looking around nervously at the expensive decor of the hotel the event was being held at. There were heroes everywhere; Creati, Mirko, Chargebolt and- holy shit was that Deku ?

What the hell were you doing here? You were nothing in comparison to all of these people, saviours of humanity and fucking heroes and-

And then Togata grasped your wrist softly, and it felt like the world stood still. All you could feel was the warmth of his hand, the tension leaching from your body almost instantly. The noise in the room became a dull echo in the background, all of your senses focused on that single point of contact.

Heart pounding for an entirely different reason now, you looked up at Togata with a curious face. He smiled down at you, tugging your wrist gently and inclining his head outward one of the quieter corners of the room. As you followed him, you frowned down at his hand, prompting him to drop it.

(You missed the warmth of his hand almost instantly, but you’d never tell anyone.)

“Sorry, Tamaki and Nejire are this way. Tamaki isn’t exactly fond of the big crowds at these kinda things, so you can usually find him in the corners.” Togata had to speak up a little for you to hear him over the din, but as the crowd thinned and you approached the edge of the room, the noise levelled out to be much quieter. Just ahead, leaning against a wall, you recognized Togata’s friends and swallowed thickly. Nejire, as you more commonly knew the hero- looked absolutely stunning in her seafoam green dress, her shoulders bared elegantly. Her hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, wobbling slightly with every pat on the back that she gave the other person standing against the wall.

Sun Eater looked like he’d rather be anywhere else- at least, from what you could tell from where he was seemingly trying to become one with the wall by attaching his face to it. Nejire patting his back seemed to be doing absolutely nothing to make him feel better, unintelligible words falling from his mouth in a near constant mumble. As you and Togata approached, Nejire spotted you and immediately lit up, smacking Sun Eater’s back a little harder.

“Ooooh! Amajiki! They’re here! Look!” Nejire smiled brilliantly as you both came to a stop beside her, finally ceasing her assault of the shy hero. Mirio went to introduce you, but had hardly gotten your name out before she was cutting him off. “I know who she is! Oh wow! We’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally have a face for the name! I love your hair, and that dress is to die for! Hey, Togata has told us about your quirk and stuff, what’s it like working with the kids? Was it hard to get started in your line of work? How did you know you wanted to do it? Have you been-” “Okay! Nejire, let her breathe!” Togata ended the questioning, placing his hand on your shoulder gently. “This isn’t twenty questions, we’re just here to have a good time. How are you holding up, Tamaki?”

The man in question groaned, turning his face to the side slightly but still not turning around. Togata left your side to go to his friend, placing a gentle hand on his back and leaning in to continue his conversation, leaving you and Nejire alone. She leaned toward you, a grin on her face that you nervously returned.

“Y’know, Mirio talks about you all the time . Like- he’ll be walkin’ around and see something and just- talk about how much you’d like it! It’s adorable!” You flushed at her words, looking down at the floor and grasping one of your wrists with the opposite hand.

He talked about you? It almost sounded like he- but there was no way! You really hadn’t done anything to earn Togata’s attention. He was more likely just excited about having a new friend.

That must be it.

Togata coaxed Nejire away before you could respond, enlisting her help to get Sun Eater away from the wall. It took a few minutes, the two of them making you giggle at some of the ways they tried to get him to move, but eventually they got the reluctant man away and you all headed into the main hall of the venue.

And it was stunning.

Tall ceilings, gold ornaments, thick red velvet curtains. You were miles out of your element.

The event was being held as a fundraiser- an auction where all of the items would be sold and the money would go to charity, and it seemed they were ready to start selling items off. You nudged Togata and pointed towards the refreshments table, letting him know to come find you there after the auction part of the evening. Grabbing a drink and settling into a chair at one of the tables, you watched as pro heroes bid their money on seemingly useless objects for people who made as much money as they did- spa hampers, signed merch from other heroes, tickets to a local play; all things donated by local businesses and the other heroes themselves.

As the heroes were preoccupied, you took a moment to admire the room, and the outfits of some of the heroes and their dates. Even the waiting staff were dressed to the nines in well pressed suits and-

Wait.

… Why are there so many waiters gathered by the doors?

Pausing mid sip of your drink, you tilted your head and frowned at the three sets of double doors, watching as the waiters all seemed to have some kind of meeting. You placed your drink down on the table, rising slowly when the waiters spread out across the doors. A person in front of each one leaned their hands against the closed doors, and your heart rate picked up as one of them sealed the door by turning it to stone. Another door became locked shut when roots and vines cracked through the wood, knotting around each other until it was nearly a solid wall, and the last one was encased in what looked like a thick purple paste. Some of the partygoers nearby cried out, prompting the heroes to turn and notice what was going on. A few of the waiters grabbed nearby guests, grasping their hands behind their backs and holding up syringes right over their necks.

Unfortunately, you were standing near one of them. You gasped as your arms were grabbed, twisting behind your back uncomfortably and a needle held just above where your pulse was pounding.

“Hello, heroes! Hope you don’t mind if we crash the party!” The heroes swung their heads back to the stage just in time to see the MC for the auction fall to the floor, blood dripping from a wound on his temple. A large man stood behind him, a cane in his hand with a carved raven on the handle- red liquid dripping from the beak. Draped in a dark cape and a tailored suit, thick sunglasses on his face, the man was grinning widely at the group of heroes before him. “Please, don’t move a muscle! If you do, I’ll be forced to do something- well, just awful. That means you, Deku! And you, Dynamight!” The two heroes in question had moved to the front of the crowd, but halted when the man reached up and took hold of his glasses. The villain slid them down his nose slowly, looking down at the two top heroes with a sick grin. Dynamight growled, moving his arms to his sides, his palms lighting up as he prepared to attack the villain-

Until it suddenly stopped. With a green glow surrounding his body, Dynamight’s body began to turn an odd grayish hue. Deku turned to his friend with a gasp, panic filling his features as the number two hero was turned to stone.

“Like I said- I don’t want to have to petrify so many of Japan’s top heroes in one go, after all! Not to mention- all those lovely hostages around the room would suffer so much if you disobey me…” The villain’s words seemed to echo with how quiet the hall got, your chest beginning to ache in fear as your eyes searched the crowd. Togata’s eyes met yours, his gaze focused entirely on you. Through your tears you could see how tense he was, his teeth bared in a grimace as he realised he couldn’t get to you. His head swung to look over at the villain, your eyes widening at the absolute rage that seemed to vibrate through him. You’d never seen him like this before, how could this be the same man who called you in tears a few weeks ago when he watched a video online about some rescue dogs?

At the front of the crowd, Deku had turned back to the villain. His face was grim, a deep frown directed straight at the stage and his eyes hardened.

“What have you done to Kacchan?!” “Now, now, don’t worry! I’ll be more than happy to undo it once we get what we came for! And I hate to be so boring as to ask for it, but- we want your money. You came to donate to charity, correct? Well, I have a very worthy charity case for you to donate to! All you have to-”

A cry sounded from within the crowd, one of the lower ranked heroes launching himself at one of the waiters nearby with a hostage- if you remembered correctly, it was his date. All three of them hit the ground, his date scrabbling back to him as the waiter moved away quickly.

To your dismay, the waiter that was next along jammed the needle into the neck of his hostage.

The guest began to scream immediately, the woman’s skin starting to sizzle and steam as she was thrown away from the waiter, her hands scratching at any bare patch of skin and ripping it off of her, as if it was barely even attached. She looked to be in absolute agony, bubbles of skin growing on her face before they popped.

It was horrifying.

Tears were falling thick and fast down your cheeks, your body shaking with fear. That same needle was hovering above your neck, above the necks of about 20 people in the room, and it looked like even saving one would result in the death of another.

“I did ask you all to stay perfectly still, you know. I wanted to avoid this…” The villain shook his head in mocking disapproval, as if the woman’s screams weren’t still echoing. “Now, as I was saying… We have a lovely bank account just waiting to be filled with all your precious money, and it’s for a very good cause. Me and all my friends here could really use it!”

The screams had finally died down. The woman was lying on the floor, her skin mostly melted off, still steaming in places. Your eyes found Togata’s once more, his own looking frantic as it really set in that he couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t save you or anyone right now .

You could see the same look on the faces of all the other heroes present.

Deku looked like he was going to combust, Nejire-Chan and Sun Eater looked at each other with furrowed brows, as if they were trying to figure out their next step.

Togata couldn’t take his eyes off you.

There was a level of desperation there that you didn’t quite understand. Even though the other heroes looked upset at not being able to help their dates and friends, Togata seemed especially upset when his eyes were latched onto your figure.

You hated it.

That look in his eyes, it was so unlike his usual smiles. Something inside of you bristled at the lack of brightness in his expression. Blinking a few times to try and clear the tears from your eyes, you made sure he was looking at you before giving him a small smile. Reassurance.

It’s okay.

Togata’s eyes looked watery, although you couldn’t really tell from this distance, before he suddenly broke eye contact. He grit his teeth, his eyes screwing shut for a moment as he swung his head to glare at the villain.

“All this?! All this just for money ?! You just killed someone !” Togata’s voice cut through the silence, the heroes around him gasping at his outburst. He was shaking with anger, his eyes blazing as the villain simply laughed.

“Ah-! Not quite! I didn’t kill anybody! After all, I did warn you all that I’d have to do something awful if you didn’t listen!” The villain sounded so full of glee, so proud of what he’d done here.”Besides, it’s only cause of this stupid hero system that people like me struggle to get work and need to resort to this shit! If we could all use our quirks freely then things would be different!”

… wait.

The villain was still ranting, but you couldn’t even hear him anymore. Use your quirk freely… What if you could influence someone? Your eyes roved over the villain, unsure about how this would go… you didn’t have a licence to do hero work, but you did have something of a concession for using your quirk due to working with the kids. No one would even know, there’s no visual representation with your quirk on you , it only shows around the person you’re influencing. So the only people in the room that would know it was you would be Togata, Nejire and Sun Eater… You didn’t know if you were covered with your partial-licence, but surely you had to try.

The other risk was whether or not taking the leader out would impact the waiters. You were hopeful that if you took him out of the equation, in the chaos they’d just drop their hostages, but there was always the risk that they’d just inject their hostages anyway. You had to get a message to someone, somehow…

Togata looked at you again. Locking eyes with him, you schooled your face into the most neutral expression you could, and activated your quirk. A subtle blue glow, almost like a very tiny glitter shower, began around Togata’s ears.

Calm. Collected. Relax.

His face melted from it’s disgruntled rage, his mind clearing for a moment as you stopped your quirk, your eyes shooting to the other hostages and back to him before looking at the villain again. When you looked back at Togata, he didn’t seem to understand for a moment before it seemed to click.

A nod. A smile.

Togata turned and kept his voice to a low murmur, saying something to the other heroes as subtly as he could while the villain kept yelling about the inadequacy of hero society. You really hoped that he got your idea right.

Please.

When Togata finally looked back at you and nodded, you realised that many of the heroes seemed to be bracing themselves, each one angling their body slowly towards one of the hostages. Relief flooded through you as you turned your eyes toward the villain at the front, focusing on him directly.

Activating your quirk, you were suddenly filled with a chaotic swirl of emotions. What this man felt wasn’t just rage, there was sadness, fear, pain. You didn’t want to do this to him, but there was no other choice. You grunted softly as the blue glow, much stronger this time as you were concentrating so hard, began to sparkle around his ears.

Relax. Calm. Peace.

He stopped talking. The man’s face, previously screwed up in anger, relaxed swiftly as he stared off into space for a moment and you held onto his emotions as tightly as you could.

A moment was all the heroes needed.

All at once, the heroes jumped, each one launching towards a hostage and knocking the waiters over in the same breath, a coordinated attack. At the same moment, Deku jumped at the main villain, tackling and subduing the man as you finally let your control go, a splitting headache taking up residence in your mind immediately.

Togata came for you, because of course he did.

His fist flew past your head and rammed into the waiter’s, the man behind you dropping the needle and falling to the floor, the hand gripped around your wrists ripping your dress as he fell. You stumbled forward, Togata’s arms pulling you into his chest immediately and securing you there. Sobbing immediately, you buried your face into him and clutched at his shirt, eyes screwed closed.

“I knew my soulmate would be smart, but you’re a genius, you know that?”

... What?

You opened your eyes, ready to question him when your eyes caught on your soul mark, bared thanks to your ripped sleeve on your dress.

Glowing.

Eyes widening, you looked up at Togata, seeing the soft smile on his face even as around you the other heroes were busy dealing with the waiters (who had immediately panicked at their leader being taken down with no fighting) and working on getting the doors open again. He chuckled at your confusion, one of his hands leaving your waist to reach up and cup your cheek carefully.

“You-? But-? What?” Your brain seemed to grind to a halt, nothing making sense even as you absolutely relished in the warmth of his hand on your cheek and his arm around you. Togata burst out laughing this time, leaning back enough to put a bit of space between you both. He reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it slightly until his lower abdominals were on display. You would have blushed if your eyes hadn’t locked onto the glowing mark on his hip.

A little seed, with a sprout coming out of it.

You frowned, looking back up at him and shaking your head slowly until he started speaking again.

“I had a feeling it was you when we first met. It felt like coming home even though we’d never even seen each other before… But I didn’t understand until you explained your job. You’re nurturing the next generation of heroes, your own little seeds, helping them grow. That’s when I really knew it.” Togata looked down at his hip again, smiling fondly at the mark and then back at you. “You’re amazing. I’m so glad it’s you.”

Your eyes filled with tears again at his words, at the soft grin he gave you as he lowered his shirt again, at the pure joy that you could feel radiating off him now that you were out of danger. It was too much, you couldn’t handle it, all the emotions of the day catching up to you as you sobbed. Togata’s eyes immediately widened in panic, his arms shooting around you again and pulling you close.

Comfort. Safety. Love.

Your quirk was working on it’s own, opening you up to Togata, letting you feel his emotions and pouring your own back into him, his arms stiffening as they registered and he realised they weren’t his own feelings this time, that you felt the same .

How could you not?

He leaned you back again, hands cupping your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks as he beamed down at you, uncaring that your face was soaked, uncaring that your makeup was running-

He leaned in, and he kissed you.

Just like before, the world stopped.

There was nothing other than you, and him, and the fact that you’d been denying it for months but he was your soulmate . You finally felt like you could breathe after being underwater for so long, like you fit perfectly against him, in his arms. It was intoxicating.

The kiss, while it started loving and almost chaste, a relief that you’d made it through all this, quickly became more desperate as you realised that this man was yours .

And then Nejire cleared her throat.

Togata and you broke apart, faces flushed with heat as you stared at her wide eyed.

“I’m so psyched that you guys are together and all, but we kinda need to finish up here you two! C’mon, you can suck each other’s faces later !” Nejire walked towards the (now open-when did that happen?) doors, making you realise that in the few minutes you two had carved out together in the chaos, everything had calmed down. Police were escorting the villain and his waiter-lackeys from the building, the heroes were giving their statements to other officers, and ambulances were arriving to help the hostages. Togata helped you toward them, noting how weak you’d become after using your quirk under the circumstances.

What followed was a few annoying hours of being checked over by the EMT’s, police taking statements, and a lot of suggestive looks between you and Togata. He knew what he was doing, the bastard, taking off his suit jacket and placing it around your shoulders, his smell surrounding you in both comfort and frustration. Rolling up his sleeves so you could see the muscles in his forearms flexing.

Now that you weren’t yelling at yourself for being attracted to him, it seemed like the flood gates had opened. You were openly ogling him even as they announced that you were free to go, your eyes laser focused on him. As soon as you were standing you made your way straight over, Togata’s eyes catching your movement before you reached him and prompting a smile.

It wasn’t one of his usual smiles.

It seemed that, like you, Togata was feeling the effects of that kiss, an edge of hunger in his eyes and on the curve of his lips that had you aching in your core. As you came to a stop in front of him, he reached for you automatically, pulling you into his side and resting his hand on your hip to keep you pressed against him. He bid the heroes he was talking to goodbye quickly after that, pulling his phone out to get a car called and looking down at you when you were waiting at the curb for it to pull up.

“Can I take you home? Wanna make sure you get in safe.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

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

As soon as your door was closed, he was on you.

Togata pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you and planting his lips on yours, your own arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed yourself against him. The adrenaline from nearly dying had worn off, but in its wake a new excitement was building in your veins. The thought that this man was all yours was still swirling through your mind, and now that you were pressed up against all that muscle you were aching between your thighs.

Togata pressed you against the wall in the hallway, parting from you and panting heavily, his forehead pressed to yours. Your hands moved to cup his cheeks, your nose nudging against his gently as you tried to reconnect your lips, feeling him smirk at your insistence.

“Togata…” A soft utterance of his name had him growling, pressing his lips to yours once again. His hands smoothed down from their place at your waist, moving over your ass and squeezing gently. When he pulled away, he pulled your hips against him, letting you feel his hardness against your stomach.

“Mirio- Call me Mirio, okay?” His voice had dropped, a roughness to it that wasn’t usually present that made a thrill run down your spine. You nodded, leaning back against the wall and looking up at him with hooded eyes. Mirio took your hand, lifting your wrist- the one with your soul mark on it- to his lips without letting his eyes leave yours, and brushed his lips across the mark itself. Your lashes fluttered at the soft contact, the air around you charging with each movement, your chest beginning to heave.

“Mirio, please…” With his eyes sparkling, Mirio lowered his head slowly, moving past your lips to your jawline, his hand coming up to tilt your head further and allow himself better access to your neck. You gasped as his lips and tongue assaulted your pulse point, your hips nudging toward him in pleasure, the feeling making you throb in need. “M-Mirio, bedroom, n-now…”

The distance seemed to evaporate with how quickly Mirio dragged you through the house, following your directions between heated kisses. As soon as you were in the bedroom, Mirio flung his jacket from your shoulders with a solid yank.

“I really love you in my clothes, but I also really want you out of ‘em right now…” He murmured against your lips, reaching for the buttons on his shirt and swiftly undoing them, shrugging it off as soon as he could. Your hands had a mind of their own as they roamed his chest, dragging over his nipples and relishing in the little twitch he gave.

Mirio’s hands moved to your hips once again, starting to drag your dress up by bunching the fabric at your waist bit by bit. Despite the heated atmosphere, and how much the both of you wanted to move this along, Mirio was taking his time where he could, teasing you when he finally pulled it up and over your head. Once your hands were free, they immediately moved to his belt, working it open as he dipped his head down to reconnect your lips. Your dress fell to the floor, his hands fastening to your waist once more as he moved you backwards towards your bed. Mirio helped you lay back, before straightening and undoing his pants properly, letting them drop to the floor and leaving him in some rather tight boxer briefs.

The outline of his cock was daunting, but it made your mouth water with how thick it looked, the idea of it stretching you forcing wetness to pool between your legs. Mirio made to step forward and out of his pants-

Only to get his feet tangled and fall over, barely catching himself on the edge of the bed.

You burst into giggles, covering your mouth to stifle them when Mirio shot you a look of exasperation. He struggled to unhook his feet from the fabric, groaning in frustration before ultimately deciding to use his quirk, letting the fabric pass through his feet as he crawled onto the bed.

You reached for him as soon as he was done stepping out of his pants, grasping his shoulder and neck to bring his lips back to yours. With only your panties and his briefs in the way, you could feel him pressed against you so much clearer, the pressure on your clit forcing a whine from deep in your chest.

Mirio smirked into your kiss, rolling his hips forward as he settled between your legs, eliciting a gasp that he took full advantage of, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

Having his hands roving over your body, feeling each and every curve, squeezing at your flesh- you felt like you were on fire, Mirio’s desire for you evident in the way his hips rolled desperately against you, the cling of your panties to your soaked core betraying just how much you wanted him in return.

“Been thinking of you like this for so long…” Mirio muttered between kisses, moving his kisses back to your neck, down to your collarbone and nibbling at the flesh there. Your back arched, Mirio taking advantage of the opportunity once again to reach behind you and start undoing your bra.

After a moment of struggle that elicits giggles form the both of you, he finally gets the damn thing undone and drags it off. He stops for a moment, leaning back and admiring the view of you utterly debauched below him, eyes hooded, lips kiss swollen, chest heaving. Reaching to cup your cheek for a moment, he rubs your cheekbone with his thumb and chews at his lip for a moment.

“I don’t- I’m not super experienced , if you know what I mean…” His face flushed at his admission, eyes focused on tracing your jawline instead of making eye contact. You giggled at him, reaching up to cover his hand with your own as you turned to nuzzle into it.

“I’m hardly the queen of experience either, you know. But this already feels so much better than anything else…” Mirio smiled at your words, finally looking into your eyes again. He leaned down, nuzzling at your breast for a moment before sucking your nipple into his mouth, dragging his teeth slowly over the peak and watching as your face contorted in pleasure.

The air between you became charged with tension once again, Mirio’s hand moving between your thighs and softly stroking at your slit over your panties. He groaned as he felt how soaked you were already, his teeth biting down a little harder on your nipple. Your legs flexed around his hips in response, a soft moan escaping that he relished in.

He suddenly growled, leaning back and letting your nipple go with a soft pop as he focused on practically ripping your panties from your body. Considering he said he wasn’t overly experienced, the way he flipped the switch and had your knees by your ears, his mouth covering your cunt and eating you with fervor- you wouldn’t have thought he was even the same man.

You cried out at his assault, his tongue flicking over your clit between it’s journeys into your walls, his hands pressed behind your knees to keep you folded over. Hands flying to the sides of your head, you screwed the sheets up in your fists with how hard you gripped them. Your mouth hung open, pants and moans constantly falling from your lips as your eyes screwed shut, almost overwhelmed already. The pressure was already building so rapidly, the knot in your belly tightening by the second. You panted his name, Mirio’s efforts increasing even more when he heard your voice so strained.

When you finally crested the wave of pleasure, your head thrown back into the pillow, Mirio took every drop you gave him, your cunt crying out for something to fill it, aching with need. When he finally let you drop back to the bed, your legs flopping either side of his hips, you pushed up and latched your mouth to his instantly.

You’d never wanted someone so bad in your whole life, something in you snapping as you pressed up into him. Desperation laced your movements and you reached down, pushing his briefs down enough to free his cock and wrapping your hand around it, swallowing up his answering hiss and pulling him back on top of you, maneuvering your hips to line him up instantly.

Mirio’s hands flew to your hips, stilling their movements and ripping his lips from yours with a growl.

“You definitely-” “Mirio, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll take care of it myself. I have toys in that drawer.” He froze at your words, tilting his head as he processed your words. He shook his head, reaching down to replace your hand with his as he rubbed his cock up and down your slit, bumping against your clit to tease you.

“We’re revisiting that later, but right now…” Mirio pushed his hips forward, his jaw going slack as your walls engulfed him in slick heat. You yourself weren’t fairing much better, eyes rolling at how thick he was, at the little burn of the stretch even though you’d already come once, your wetness helping him slide home until he was filling you to the hilt.

Mirio waited for your go ahead, waiting until you gripped his shoulders tight and gasped out a please …

And then he started moving, and you were soaring.

The drag of his cock in your walls was heaven, his big hands gripping your hips and lifting you into each thrust and slamming his cock into that spongy spot inside you pulling sinful moans from your lips. Mirio watched your face as you writhed in pleasure, his heart hammering in his chest at finally being with his soulmate, your own heart pounding in time with his.

“So beautiful like this… you really were made for me, huh?” He punctuated his words with an especially harsh thrust that had your vision whiting out for a moment as you nodded, your nails digging into his shoulders making him hiss and screw his own eyes shut. The view above you was glorious, his broad chest and shoulders with their rolling muscles with every movement. His face, torn between watching you and enjoying his own pleasure, teeth bared with his efforts to make you feel good. You couldn’t take it, your climax approaching too rapidly, your legs tightening around his hips as you tried to gasp out a warning, to tell him you were close-

“ Fuck - I can feel you, baby, come for me, please …”

Your head threw back once again, throat bared to him as you were overcome by pleasure, your soul mark shining brightly for a moment as you clenched down onto him. He grunted through it, his own mark glowing as his hips stuttered, burying himself deep inside you as he filled your walls with white, until both of you bonelessly fell to the bed. Your marks glowed for a moment longer, before their lights slowly ebbed away, settling down once more.

Mirio panted above you, holding his weight up on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush you while you caught your breath too.

When he finally pulled out, you groaned at the feeling of emptiness as he pulled you into his arms, flopping onto his back beside you on the bed. You’d both need to clean up soon, go to bed properly, but as you stared at your soul mark resting against his chest, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to move just yet.

Looking up at Mirio, you smiled when you caught him already watching you, a cheeky grin on his face. Thinking back, you had no idea how you hadn’t figured it out sooner.

Mirio was of the purest, childlike glee. The sunshine of anyone’s life, whoever knew him could attest to that. Your mark made more sense than any other mark you’d seen in your life.

“... So... toys?”

...You were going to hit him, sunshine man or not.

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