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#thinking about how today is already going to be long
ssahotchnerr · 2 days
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Hello! How are you doing?
I don't have anything extremely specific (sorry, I'm just leaving work and haven't really thought about this).
But if you want to, how about jealous Aaron who has the, very rare, opportunity to go pick up the reader from her job and see her all smiles with another coworker? In this case I was thinking that there might be a age gap between them and the male coworker is more of her age? So a bit of jealous and insecure Hotch?
If you feel comfortable with this of course!
Have a good day 😊
in comparison
cw; fem!reader, age gap, insecure :( and jealous!aaron, some angst, small suggestiveness, fluff <3 wc; 1.2k
You were exiting the building with a few of your colleagues, partaking in what appeared to be an entertaining conversation from Aaron's line of sight. The liveliness on your face was vivid, undoubtedly enjoying whatever the whole of you were collectively discussing.
You looked comfortable, relaxed, happy. You molded into the group well. One of your male colleagues in particular was inching a bit too close, a near awestruck expression on his face as a laugh escaped you. If he took one step to his right, his shoulder would be touching yours. While you were clueless, he was enamored.
Aaron felt his eyes harden involuntarily, a jealous heat swarming through his body; he wanted to march over there and assert his role as yours. However, the feeling wasn't long lasting. A profound sadness climbed up his spine, as he gained a different perspective.
It wasn't that you didn't fit into his life. On the complete contrary: you were the perfect addition.
But something about seeing you with others, with someone closer to your age, was daunting. Intimidating. It sickened him how natural the visual appeared. Reality has smacked him in the face numerous times over the years, he wouldn't be surprised if it happened again. That somehow, someway, you would prefer the latter. The one that had nothing to do with him.
As you walked towards Aaron's car, you glanced back at your coworkers, offering a wave and a smile as they jointly headed to the parking lot. His window was opened a crack, and he heard you call back towards them, "Have fun tonight!"
Aaron exhaled a breath.
"Hey." You chirped as you slid into the passenger seat, leaning over the center console to place a kiss on Aaron's cheek. He was rather stiff as you did so, causing you to lightly scrunch your nose in confusion, pulling away slowly. Something was up.
"Hey," He echoed, greeting you with an almost forced smile. The abruptness of his thoughts had unsettled him deeply - he couldn't shake them. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be." You responded hesitantly, searching his face as you buckled your seatbelt. You added after a moment, happy to be in his company and the emotion overtaking your heart. "I missed you today."
But your words went unnoticed, as he had already reentered the void that was his unwelcome thoughts.
In result the car ride home was silent, Aaron's pout unfaltering. His mind was plagued by the image of your coworker being in his place, driving you home, or the two of you huddled together amongst a night out with friends. It caused an uncomfortable, sad pit in his stomach.
"You missed a turn."
"What?"
Your statement jolted him back to earth. No he didn't... did he? His eyebrows furrowed in a line, reassessing the current surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, all familiar street signs. When he confirmed he, in fact, did not miss a turn, he turned to you, only to find a knowing smirk plastered on your face.
His eyebrows quirked softly, obstructing the line drawn above his eyes. "What was that about?"
"To get your mind off whatever you're stewing about."
A smile threatened his lips, due to your witty expression and observation, "I'm not." His tone found a slightly lighter note - amusingly guilty. Anything but convincing.
"Aaron, darling, you're gonna break some teeth if that," Your playful demeanor dropped for a moment, your eyes tracing back and forth, as if you were in a trance. "Jaw of yours tightens anymore."
Your brief distraction eased a notion of his jealousy, he still had that effect on you, thankfully. He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, his stare forward.
"So what is it?" You asked, "Did you have a bad day?"
He shook his head.
"Bad bout of cases?"
Aaron grimaced, his knuckles letting up only to secure his fingers over the wheel again, "They're always bad."
"Something I did?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but only silence came out. His hesitation caused your face to fall, your shoulders dropping and posture succumbing to the back of your seat.
"No honey, no you didn't do anything." He was quick to reassure, feeling entirely worse. "I can assure you."
Your eyes met his, needing more.
He sighed defeatedly, surprisingly not afraid to bluntly admit, "I'm jealous."
"Jealous?" You froze, but then it clicked. You gestured behind, as if your colleagues were somehow tailing the two of you. "Of...?"
Aaron bit his lip, nodding slowly.
Your expression lightened, a soft and genuine wonder in your eyes, "Why?"
"Are you okay with this?" Confusion arose on your face once more, so he clarified. "This. Us. You signed up for a lot, quickly at that."
Truth be told, the two of you had progressed at a rate neither of you expected, due to the sheer infatuation you possessed for one another. That, too, had been natural.
"I'm divorced, widowed, a father - I come with baggage. My 'going-out' are days long gone. I don't want you missing out."
"Aaron." In a way, you could laugh. It tore your heart into pieces he was thinking this way, doubting himself but he was clueless in an adorably, idiotic way. In summary, he simply never gave himself the credit he deserved. "What could I possibly be missing out on?"
"You could be spending your weekends out, socializing, with people closer in age. And yet, you're..." He came up with an example. "Making pillow forts. These are supposed to be the best years of your life. I'm terribly boring in comparison."
"Hey, I make a mean pillow fort."
He gave you a look.
Your hand grabbed his bicep affectionately, clinging onto it as if you were knocking some sense into him. "I chose this. I chose you. Jack is the addition to my life I never knew I needed. And I don't want to be out galavanting bar to night club to bar. I jump at the opportunity to deny a night out to spend it in. With you. When have you ever seen me wanting to go out and party?"
An expression of distaste flashed across your face at the concept, and Aaron's head tilted to the side as he considered your point.Yeah, that was true.
"I'm a homebody. And if there's anything I've realized over the course of the past months, you're my home. You."
Aaron let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I know what I'm in for. And I embrace it with open arms. I want it." Your face was content, even more so than when you were talking with your colleagues. "I love you. And I love the life we're creating. It's so special, beyond my wildest dreams."
"Really?" A boyish, hopeful expression graced his face.
"Really. I wouldn't want it any other way. I can promise you. This- you're everything I could ever want."
Aaron's hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. "I love you too, sweetheart."
You beamed in response - you'd never get tired of the words leaving his lips.
"That one guy though," Aaron raised his eyebrows, taking a quick glance at you. Envy began creeping back, "He seemed interested. Wasn't a fan of that."
You scoffed, unbothered. "I'm into men, not boys. Which again, you are the utmost depiction of." Your delightful smirk resurfaced, admirably looking him over. "Believe me, I couldn't be more satisfied."
He wanted to play into your suggestive remarks, but he needed further confirmation. Once more. "You sure?"
"Oh, I'm positive."
Finally satisfied himself, he surrendered, "Okay."
"In fact, I can think of a few ways to show you just how much later."
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lufyuu · 1 day
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Dragon's Offsprings
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Tw/s: voyeurism, double penetrating, rough Zihao, breeding, inserting eggs(?)
Description: a drabble of the freaky Zihao
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Pitter patter
The rain seems to never stop. It has been raining for almost 3 days straight. Despite the heavy rain, Liu Zihao would always travel the long way to the courthouse to work. The rain doesn't stop criminals from commiting crimes, it encourages them in a way. Though that doesn't include you who have been in the manor for a long month. You got used to this lifestyle a long time ago. Waking up whenever you want, going to bed whenever you want, having whatever food you wanted. The only restriction is that you are not allowed outside without Zihao being there by your side. It's not too bad, better than being chased all the time anyways.
Today's not too bad, at least so far. You're home alone, the chefs and maids having left as per your request. Despite being home alone, you can't escape, you've tried before and it's really no worth all that work just to be tracked down again in just a mere minute. Liu Zihao always knows where you are. You look at the clock which points at a quarter to 6pm. Usually Zihao's home for dinner around this time. Whatever, probably had more work to do today. You'll just eat dinner by yourself.
The aroma of delicious food floods your nose. Your eyes are drawn to the two plates placed on the table. You take one plate and start munching on food while sitting down. Even if it's a large yet quiet and empty house, you pay no mind to that as you've lived alone for a while before all this luxury. The steal is cooked just to your liking, it's juicy and delicious with the right amount of spices added to make sure it's not too salty yet not bland at all. After chewing on the steak, you take the fork and grab some pasta plates next to the steak. Twisting it and lifting the fork to your lips. It's creamy and flavourful, the saltiness and creamy flavour compliments each other very well. You enjoy the meal to the fullest in silence, enjoying every second.
You throw the empty and dirty plate in the sink, not bothering to wash it. Zihao will deal with it like he always does. No reason to waste your time with that. 'Now what do I do?' , you wonder to yourself while walking up the flight of stairs, heading to your bedroom. Oftentimes, your bed is also Zihao's bed. He loves cuddling up with you and just making sure you're within his grasp. "Agh", you plop face first onto the soft bed. For some reason, the atmosphere is off without Zihao. Usually by this time, he'd already be fucking you dumb until you pass out or get too tired to continue. You wouldnt ever admit it but it became a routine. Your body's gotten used to it and so have you. Because of this, you feel like you need to do something about this itching feeling you have.
"Ah...ngh", you moan, face flushed with a vibrating dildo deep in your hole. Your teeth's biting onto your lifted shirt, your dominant hand pushing and pulling the dildo in and out. "Z-Zihao..mm..!", you unconsciously moan out his name, your other hand now on your dick going up and down to stimulate yourself even more. No matter how much you stimulate yourself, you can't seem to cum. You need something bigger to please you. Usually you'd be ashamed to even think about Zihao let alone his two cocks but right now, as you're trying to chase your climax, it doesn't matter. "More...aagghh", you moan out even louder than before, not noticing the piercing purple eyes staring at your sweaty and horny figure from the top of the stairs.
You close your eyes, imagining it was Zihao inside you right now and not a silicone wannabe. "F-fuckk..!", you almost yell out, getting so close to cumming. When you hear footsteps close to where you are, you immediately freeze and look at who it is. Your ego instantly crushed, the embarrassment getting to you, hard. You reach over for the fluffy blanket only for it to be thrown at the wall and fall onto the floor by a mere gesture of Zihao's fingers. With another snap of his fingers, a comfortable chair appears infront of the bed. He sits with his legs crossed, head leaning on his hand which is cushioned on the chair. "Do continue", his expression remains unchanged, it's a plain expression, neither a smile nor frown, his eyes are relaxed but at the same time, they're demanding you to continue on your little action. Despite this, you remain frozen long enough for him to demand once more, "was I not clear? Continue your little activity, now.", it sends shivers down your spine, as if he's a predator and you're his prey.
Without a way out of this, you spread your legs and continue letting the dildo go in and out of you, each time faster and faster than before. Now with a pair of eyes watching you do this to yourself, it's embarrassing, you feel like crying due to how bad of a fall your ego took. Never in your life did you think you'd be putting on a show for anyone. "Ngh...", you try to cover your own voice, biting your lip to prevent your moans from getting too loud. This doesn't amuse Zihao at all. "Stop biting your lip", his voice alone makes your body shiver in fear. Reluctantly, you stop biting your lip, "a-ahh...aggh..", the pleasure overtaking your thoughts, in the heat of the moment, you blurt out: "Z-Zihao.."
Just one word. One singular word. That was enough for Zihao to widen his eyes and instantly get up, "that's enough.", he looks down on your figure which is laying on the bed, all prepped and ready to take his cocks and maybe something more.
In a blink of an eye, he pushes you to the bedframe as you are now sitting up, your back laying against the bedframe. He takes off his coat and throws it aside, not caring if it got dirty or wrinkled. "My mate can't even stand a few hours without me, how cute", he smiles a bit, blushing while you're up against the bedframe, horny and wanting him to be deep inside you already without so much yapping.
As if reading your mind, he grants you your wish and shoves his two hard cocks in your hole almost immediately after you thought about them. He guides your hands to wrap around his neck. Then, he holds the sides of your hips and begins to pound in and out of you, you cursing everytime it goes in. Thankfully, your hole is already lubricated, giving the cocks an easier time in fucking your hole. You feel so full but usually it takes Zihao a long long time to decide it's finally time to stop. His thrusts are rough, not in the slightest bit gentle. The bulge on your stomach is very much visible, it moves up and down your lower stomach in a fast pace. "Agh..m", he grunts and moans, feeling the tightness of your hole as you clench down, feeling close to cumming. Your moans get progressively louder by the second. Zihao makes sure it does by pounding even harder.
"Cu-cumming..! Aggghh", you moan loudly while cumming, the cum splurting all over your own body while Zihao is still pounding you. He's chasing his own climax. You feel overstimulated as he's pounding so roughly. It's a lot rougher than usual but you barely notice due to your brain being so foggy by this point. "You're ready to take my children, aren't you my dear mate?", he asks but it's more of a rhetorical question. Before you can answer his absurd question, you feel something being pushed into you, something big. Multiple of them. "Z-Zihao..ah, what's tha—aghh", you feel him cumming inside, his cum thicker and much more than usual. You don't notice it but the mark on your lower stomach started glowing for a mere 3 seconds before returning back to its solid purple color.
Zihao pulls out both his cocks yet despite that, your stomach still has a visible bulge. You feel so so full and not just because of his cum. "Zihao, what's inside me..?", you ask him, confused on what he put inside to make you look bloated. "Oh my dear, those are my eggs", your eyes widen immediately and you try to jump up or out the bed but he stops you, "we can't afford you getting hurt when you're carrying our children", he frowns and looks at you as if this is common knowledge. He's ready to take the role of the father of his kids and your one and only husband, but are you?
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There you have it freakies, you're now gon' lay eggs/hj
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spiderbeam · 3 days
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and okay feel free to ignore this one because ive sent a bunch already buttt 🎧+max+7
🎧 — bugambilia by nasa histoires
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Max is nervous. He hadn’t realized it until the bell dinged with his entrance, until you spoke your usual greeting, until your eyes met his and a smile spread over your lips. He’s a three time world champion, an icon of the world of motorsport, a celebrity—and yet he finds himself growing jittery at the sight of you.
Of course you’d be the type to fall for the one person in Europe who doesn’t know your name, Danny had teased.
He’d denied it. He didn’t have feelings for you. He had simply developed a fondness for flowers—and he just happened to like yours most.
“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you this soon.” You dust your hands on your overalls as you stand up to greet him. You look pretty in overalls, he finds. Prettier even with your hair held up by a bow—alongside that lovely smile that always makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. “Thought you said you were leaving the country for work.”
Max realizes then he’s stayed quiet for too long. “Um, yeah,” he starts awkwardly, hands tucked in his pockets before he takes them out soon after. What do people usually do with their hands? “I did. It was just for the weekend, though.”
“Did you have fun?” you ask, before meeting his gaze with a playful roll of your eyes. “I know, work is work, but…”
“It was fine,” Max clicks his tongue, hoping he doesn’t sound too dismissive. “Not great.”
“Sorry to hear that.” You purse your lips, thinking for a moment. “Maybe you can rant a little while I trim these?” You gesture at the newly arrived flowers.
Max chuckles a little. He’s done plenty of ranting. Mostly in front of a camera. “Actually, I was hoping to get to hear you talk about your flowers—maybe give me a hand?”
You straighten as you stand up, nodding. “What’s today’s purchase gonna be?”
“Another gift,” he says, even though he’s ran out of friends to gift bouquets to. Twice is two times too many before they start looking at him weird.
You nod your head, ponytail bobbing. “Alright.” You clasp your hands together, smiling up at him. “Wanna look around for something that catches your eye, or are you in search for anything in particular?”
Max tilts his head at you. “Which are your favorites this week?” He asked you the same question last time, and the time before that. But, as you told him before, you can’t make up your mind—not permanently, anyway. Each time he comes around, you have a different answer prepared for him.
This time, you’re grinning. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” And then your hand is in his as you steer him towards the very back of the shop—and Max can feel his breath stuttering. He blinks in rapid succession, hoping to get himself to snap out of it. Jesus Christ, you’re just holding her hand. Pull yourself together.
Finally, you stop beside a shelf with purple and fuchsia flowers with papery petals and tiny light yellow blossoms inside them. Max feels as you let go of him, prompting him to step closer to the flowers. He leans forward, hoping to catch some floral scent like the lilies and jasmines you gave him a few weeks back. He doesn’t smell anything.
“They don’t have a scent,” you tell him. “It’s bugambilia. Bougainvillea. It’s not usually used for bouquets, though, so people rarely buy any. Except for this one woman, Marisol—she says it reminds her of home. But she only takes a few branches, doesn’t really want them as a bouquet.” You’re smiling when he turns back to you. “They don’t grow around here—not naturally, anyway. It’s why I like them.”
“Bougainvillea,” Max repeats, committing the syllables to memory. “So you’ve never had to sell a bouquet of these?”
“Not yet.” You shrug. “It’s under appreciated, in my opinion. I mean—most people just buy roses. Maybe sunflowers.”
He remembers you ranting about that last week. How impersonal is it to give red roses to someone on a date? It’s like giving a gift card. No sentiment whatsoever.
And Max, surprisingly enough, agreed. He believes in personal gestures. Gifts that proof you’ve been listening, that you’ve been paying attention. And as he side-glances at you, he can see your stare still lingering on the purple and pink flowers. He doesn’t need to think it over before he’s saying: “I’ll take it.”
You nod in approval, reaching up to take a few flowers. “I knew you would,” you say proudly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’ve got good taste, Max.”
Max chuckles. “Not really,” he says, shaking his head. “I just happen to know someone who does.” He’s looking at you as he says it, scratching his cheek, but he can see your lovely smile falter slightly. His brows pinch together.
You haul your selected bougainvillea onto the counter, with Max trailing close behind. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who buys as many flowers as you do—not that I’m complaining.” You try to sneak a glance at him as you’re tying off his bouquet. Max relishes in the heat that crawls up your cheeks when he catches you.
This is his chance, he realizes. But then he’s running circles again because what if you think he’s creepy? That he’s been buying flowers from you in hopes of finally building up the courage to ask you out? It’s not only creepy, it’s pathetic. It’s been nearly a month since he first met you. It’s taken him a whole month to get to this. Stupid. And since when does he get nervous like this around girls? He’s Max Verstappen.
But you’re you.
“You okay?” you ask, peering at him. “You’ve been a little quiet today.”
“Yeah, sorry. Um, I just—” He means to ask you, he really does, but this one tiny detail doesn’t escape his attention as you leave the flowers on the counter, wrapped in pretty ribbons, ready for him to take home. He stares at you, dumbfounded. “I—I haven’t paid yet.”
Your expression sends butterflies fluttering around his stomach. “Consider it a gift. For keeping me company on a slow day.”
But Max is already pulling out his wallet out of his back pocket. “No, no, I can pay.”
“Max,” you say, voice caught somewhere between soft and stern. “It’s a gift. You don’t pay for gifts.”
He scratches his cheek again, a quirk of his you’ve come to find endearing. “Doesn’t this get taken out of your paycheck?”
You shrug nonchalantly. “No one buys bougainvillea. One of my coworkers would’ve probably ended up throwing them away.”
You’re dodging his question, and Max doesn’t know how to tell you that he can afford it without making it seem like he doesn’t appreciate the gesture.
You seem to decide for him when you grab the bouquet and hand it to him. Your fingertips graze his knuckles, shooting sparks beneath his skin. He should ask you now. You’re smiling like you don’t even know the effect you have on him.
“Your—”
“Would you—” Max clears his throat, pink on his cheeks. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You laugh lightly, but it doesn’t sound as genuine. “Nothing—just that your girlfriend’s really lucky. I’d kill to have someone buy me as many flowers every week.”
“My—what?” Max blinks once. Twice. Three times before the words finally dislodge from his throat. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, your boyfriend?” you amend, playing with your fingers.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” Max says bluntly. He’s still cradling his bougainvilleas as he watches realization wash over your face.
“Oh.” Heat is climbing up your cheeks, and for the first time all afternoon, you’re the one stumbling over your words. “O-Oh. I just thought that—I mean, since you’ve been coming around so much, and you’re like, handsome, and sweet, so I just assumed—”
“Do you wanna go out some time?” Max interrupts, ears tinted red. There’s a pretty blush spreading his face. A giddy nervousness building up in his gut. “With me, I mean. Do you want to go out with me?”
Your lips curl upward, heat radiating from your face. Max feels flowers growing in his chest. Hydrangeas, carnations, tulips, wisteria. Purple bougainvillea flowers.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
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eve’s 1k celebration 🎧
this one was very loosely based on the song more on the vibes than the actual lyrics so i might revisit this song and make another more angstier drabble in the future….. for now i just recommend giving the song a listen <3 also i’m not used to writing for max AT ALL so hopefully it didn’t feel too ooc
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kayewrite · 11 hours
Text
At the same time, I wanna hug you
(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)
seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)
summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?
an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading
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Kim Seungmin.
You hated that very name.
You hated his existence.
You hated his smirk.
You hated that he breathes.
You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.
Like now.
You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.
You already knew your fate.
"Ma'am, someone’s late again."
You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.
You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.
The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.
"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.
“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.
“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”
Damn.
You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.
--
You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.
Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.
"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.
Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.
“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”
He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”
You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”
You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.
One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.
"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.
He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."
You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"
"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."
Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.
Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.
Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"
You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.
"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.
Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.
Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.
If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.
Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.
Justice had never tasted so sweet.
---
"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.
Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.
You flipped him the finger.
‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?
The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.
If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.
You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.
Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.
"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."
"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."
"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."
"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.
"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."
And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.
"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.
Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.
"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.
And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.
--
It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.
Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.
Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.
A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.
"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.
"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.
He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"
"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.
Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"
You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"
Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."
Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.
Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.
Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.
You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"
He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."
You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"
"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.
You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"
"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"
"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."
He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."
"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."
Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.
“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”
It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.
“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.
“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.
“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.
With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?
“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.
Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.
“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.
“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.
“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.
“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.
“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.
“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.
You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.
“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”
“I hate you.”
“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.
Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.
“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.
“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.
“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.
“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.
“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.
“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.
“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”
Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.
“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.
You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.
Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!
“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”
“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.
“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.
“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.
“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.
As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.
--
You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.
“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.
“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.
“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.
“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”
“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.
It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.
“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.
“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.
“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.
“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.
He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.
When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”
“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.
You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”
“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.
“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.
He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”
“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.
When would this bickering ever end?
“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.
“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”
“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.
“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”
“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.
Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”
You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.
You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.
“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.
You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”
Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”
You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”
Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.
“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.
You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”
“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.
Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”
You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”
You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.
Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”
You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”
Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”
Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.
“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.
You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.
Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”
You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”
“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.
“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.
You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.
With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.
--
The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.
Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.
To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.
Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.
After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”
A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”
“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”
“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.
As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.
At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.
“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.
Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.
“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”
“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”
“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.
“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.
“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”
Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”
“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”
"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."
As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.
“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”
“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.
“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.
--
As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.
One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.
“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.
You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.
“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”
As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.
Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.
During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.
You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.
When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.
From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.
Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.
As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.
---
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.
As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”
You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”
He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.
You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”
Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.
“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.
“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.
“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.
“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.
You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”
Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.
“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.
Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.
The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.
---
It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.
But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.
“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”
The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.
"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.
You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.
“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”
You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.
“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”
“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.
You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.
---
Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.
Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.
“Ma'am!”
You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.
But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”
Your eyes flew open in shock. What?
“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.
Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.
You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.
--
Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.
As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.
He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”
“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”
You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”
“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.
--
Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.
You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction’. But then, another paper ball hit you.
"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.
This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.
You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.
“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”
With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”
Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.
You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”
“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.
Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.
“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.
“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.
You both threw out your hands, and you won.
“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.
He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”
You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.
“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”
Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”
You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”
“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”
As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”
In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.
Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”
“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.
“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.
--
Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.
Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”
“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.
As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.
Wow, he was really talented.
You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.
Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.
You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.
The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.
You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.
You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”
Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”
Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”
“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”
Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”
You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”
Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”
You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”
You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”
--
Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.
You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”
Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”
You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”
“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.
You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”
Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”
You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”
“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”
You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”
Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”
You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”
Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”
You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”
Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."
You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”
--
It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.
Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.
“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”
You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.
Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”
You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”
“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”
You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”
“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.
"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,
"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."
You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.
--
 Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”
Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”
Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”
Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”
“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”
Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”
Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”
Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”
Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”
As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.
--
Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.
As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.
"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.
Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.
You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."
Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.
But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.
"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."
But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.
PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.
The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.
"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.
But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.
The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.
What is up with him?
Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.
When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.
After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.
“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.
He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”
Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.
You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”
He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”
The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.
Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.
“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”
Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”
Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”
You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”
“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”
Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”
“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?
Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”
You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.
You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.
Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“I...”
Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”
He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.
You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.
-
In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.
Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.
"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.
"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.
You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."
"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.
You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.
Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.
Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.
You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."
Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."
You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"
His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"
"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.
Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."
You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."
His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."
You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.
"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.
His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.
"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?
"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"
He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."
His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.
"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."
He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.
Seungmin liked you.
And somehow, deep down, you’d known.
-
The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.
As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.
Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.
The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?
Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.
You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.
Seungmin.
You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.
And then came the moment. The pivotal line.
As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.
Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.
Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.
Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.
You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.
The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.
As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.
For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.
-
a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!
sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!
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LAPIS LAZULI - 1. Reality
Character(s): Kakavasha/Aventurine
Tags: Long fic, no other tags apply tbf
Word Count: 2651 words
Summary: University seminars, philosophical discussions, and over-the-top ornate letters. What could go wrong?
Author’s note: I’d like to state for the record that I am currently not in university so have no idea how it works, so excuse any inaccuracies you may find here. Also, I had to dig around the Archives in game to make sure the lore is right lmao. Once again this is inspired by the ever wonderful @havanillas and their role swap!au. Check it out!
Account Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Prologue
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8.45am - Wednesday
“Doctor? I have a letter addressed to you. Would you like me to leave it on your desk?”
“Yes please, Cassandra. I’ll have a look at it after today’s seminar. Thank you.”
”No problem, Doctor. It will be there when you arrive.”
Kakavasha takes his finger off the call button and leans back in his spinny chair, fingers interlocked on his stomach as he stares at the ceiling of his classroom. One hand reaches for a bottle of water on an oaken desk and he takes a swig, the liquid wonderfully tasteless as it slides down his throat. His students were to arrive within the next five minutes or so, so he makes himself busy by writing up a few diagrams on the whiteboard adjacent to his desk. To his annoyance, the marker pen runs out of ink halfway through, so goes on a hunt through his drawers to find another.
He roots through them for a few minutes, grumbling to himself and making a mental note to buy more with the university budget when he has free time. He finds another and grabs it triumphantly, lifting it to eye level with a grin before promptly realising two of his students have entered the classroom and sat down; now staring at him with poorly withheld amusement. At the sight of one of them giving him a cheeky wave and a “Good morning, Professor-“, he clears his throat and pivots on his heel before continuing his task. Next time he hears the chatter of the entering students before the door opens. The sound of backpacks being chucked under tables and laptops being opened fills the air as the majority enter and Kakavasha can’t prevent his quiet pleased sigh. These kids are here to learn and there is a strange form of pride that wells within him at the idea. With a few brief strokes of the marker, he finishes what he was doing and turns to the few dozen pupils in front of him.
”Morning folks,” he begins, twizzling the pen between his fingers artistically. “Today we’ll be continuing from where we left off on Monday’s lecture. Did anyone have the forethought to read through those notes before today?” A surprising majority of the room murmur their affirmative. He nods. “Good. What do you remember?” he asks, pointing the marker in the direction of redhead two rows from the front.
“We were learning about the different Aeons and the effect they have on THEIR Pathstriders and Emanators, Professor,” he replies meekly. Kakavasha gives a small smile.
”Correct, yes. Monday was about Lan the Hunt and THEIR endorsement of the Xianshou Alliance, as well as the Galaxy Rangers,” he states, now pointing at a shoddily drawn picture of a three-headed being on the whiteboard. “Today we’ll be talking about Xipe the Harmony. What do you already know about THEM and the people who follow THEIR path?”
A few students lift their hands. Kakavasha points to another to answer. A silver-haired foxian. “Xipe is a plural Aeon from lots of worlds. THEY wish for the strong to help the weak.” At the professor’s silent smile, she stutters, “Uh- I think.”
”You’re right. Glad to see you’ve done your research. Xipe is the embodiment of philosophies concerning equal rights and singularity. From what THEIR followers have preached, Xipe the Harmony believes that-“ Kakavasha takes the cap off his marker and begins to ascribe a quote on the whiteboard, “-‘Intellient life forms must discard their cowardly selfishness and the differences between individuals, fusing into one singular melody.’ In simpler terms, THEY believe that no-one is above anyone else, and everyone deserves the same chances in life.” The clicking of several keyboards follow as he circles the finished quote.
”Seems to be too far-fetched a dream, if you ask me,” a student near the back grouches in response. He is slouched back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking poignantly at Kakavasha.
”Why do you say that?” the Sigonian questions, curious.
”The universe does not treat people equally,” the student replies simply.
Ain't that the truth.
”Elaborate.”
The student pushes himself upright with his hands. “I’m all for equal rights, Professor, don’t get me wrong, but the reality of life is that not everyone is born equal. Nepotism is a big reason, but also because there are a lot of shitty people in the universe who don't hesitate to stomp on the backs of others in order to get a step up for themselves.” That is clearly directed at someone specific (or rather a specific organisation), but Kakavasha doesn’t voice that. That organisation is probably funding this pupil’s degree.
”Go on,” he urges, face some kind of welcoming. The student fiddles with the edges of his open laptop for a few moments, unsure, but eventually decides to say what is on his mind.
”There is a level of social and economical class a person needs to have if they want to be taken seriously in this life. I completely agree with the Harmony’s path, but it just isn’t realistic. I mean, what rights does a slave have next to their master?”
And isn’t that the million-credit question? There’s a clear taken aback look on Kakavasha’s face that is concealed as quickly as it appears. His chest tightens slightly and a small lump settles in his throat. It’s a figure of speech, Kakavasha. A figure of speech used to help elaborate a very valid and interesting point of view. He’s sure the kid isn’t aware of the connotations of saying such a thing. He fights the urge to lift his hand to his neck and rub the branding so forcibly put there all those years ago. The habit itches at him, making his fingers twitch.
”Professor?”
Right, he has a class to teach.
He clears his throat and swallows. “You’re very right. Equality is non-existent at this point in time. People less fortunate are facing more and more hardships each day, while those born being fed from silver spoons have it easier. I don't disagree with you. One thing you need to realise, however, is that Aeons’ beliefs are based on ideals, not rules.” The student looks at him with a raised brow, not quite understanding. Kakavasha continues. “Aeons are the embodiment of philosophical concepts. That is all they are: concepts. It's all well and good preaching them but the reality is, like you said, unlikely to take place. Xipe the Harmony has influence all over the cosmos in thousands of worlds but that doesn't mean they are omnipresent. Some Aeons have more influence than others. Qlipoth the Preservation, for example, practically dominates the universe with the IPC. Compare that to Nous the Erudition and THEIR 84 members of the Genius Society and few dozen thousand members of the Intelligentsia Guild and you can see the quantifiable difference.”
Kakavasha needs another sip of his water. The students are hastily writing down notes on computers and notebooks. The original student who started the discussion nods slowly before doing the same. The professor withholds a tired sigh.
This is going to be a long seminar.
10:17am - Wednesday
When the scholar arrives in his office an hour later, he practically collapses into his chair. He drags a hand down his face with a groan and uses the other to take his hair out of its ponytail. The sigh of relief he lets out after the tension is released is audible and warm. His eyes closed, he recalls his lecture timetable and is quietly grateful that the rest of his day is free. Regardless, he keeps his door unlocked in case any of his students need assistance with their work.
He likes what he does at Veritas Prime. It gives him a well-needed break from the tireless nights in this very office spent researching. It also allows him to witness the growth of bright minds. He has a direct effect on the future of these kids (he says “kids” despite the fact that they are all in their twenties and only a few years younger than him) and he is not about to throw their future down the drain. So he tries. He genuinely tries, and the work he puts in makes a difference. If he can give someone with an upbringing as similar as his the chance to grow, then he will take every opportunity he can to do so. No one should be uneducated purely because of where and how they were raised. The ignorant should choose to be ignorant, not be forced into it because they happened to be born into less fortunate circumstances. Kakavasha knows what that's like and he refuses to let others suffer as he did.
Wow. Look at him being all motivational. He should write a speech. The IPC would eat that up. Not that they’d listen to a word he would actually say: they look at the sole survivor of a dead race and they see money bags, not a human being. The thought reminds him of another Intelligentsia Guild scholar. Or rather, a former Intelligentsia Guild member. Veritas Ratio: the man idolised by all. Everyone in the Guild compares Kakavasha to him. They see a young scholar with “promise and potential” and it’s an immediate link. He can’t blame them - the esteemed Doctor Ratio is a legend after all. He feels honoured. Really, he does! He’s simply irked by the fact that he’s compared to such a genius and has yet to meet him. If the Guild’s hapless musings are true, then the potential prospects of their work together would be boundless.
He knows that’s not possible now. Anyone with half a brain cell and access to the Internet knows of the exploits of the former doctor (Well, he’s still a doctor. He still has all eight of those pHDs). A quick search shows a smiling face and his new pseudonym: Lapis Lazuli. Kakavasha doesn’t know him well enough to feel pride for the man, but he does understand the feeling of patriotism at the idea of a former member of the Guild reaching so high that he became one of the Ten Stonehearts. Most people who have worked tirelessly in the IPC all their lives don’t come anywhere close to that level, yet Lapis Lazuli did it in less than half a decade. How did he do it? Status? Money? Luck? Kakavasha inwardly recoils at that last one.
Luck. Most see it as a blessing. For Kakavasha, it’s nothing but a curse. It is his rediculous luck that made him the one that survived the genocide of his people. He was the one who managed to escape that hellhole of a planet (which then resulted in him being thrown into the slave trade, just his luck). It was then just his luck that he was sold, again, to that detestable man in the Guild who found it in himself to strip away Kakavasha’s autonomy (not that he had any at that point anyway) to test on him in hopes of accessing, manipulating, and stealing the only thing that had kept him alive: his luck. Luck bestowed upon him by a god that clearly has a sick sense of humour. Luckily for him, that man couldn’t keep a secret, so he was promptly found and thrown in prison for his unethical practices for a very, very long time.
Now that he's thinking about it, Kakavasha supposes he's doing the same thing. Sort of. Technically the opposite if you squint? He wishes to rid himself of this unbridled luck, yes, but not to manipulate it. He just wants it gone. At least now, in the Intelligentsia Guild, he has the ability and the resources to research such a thing.
Maybe a legend like Veritas Ratio could give a little of his wisdom for his cause.
Yeah, right. Funny joke.
The Sigonian leans forwards and rests his elbows on his desk, head in his hands. He sulks. That's right. A grown man sulks. He stares at the mahogany wood and slips of paper below him and unfocuses his eyes, staying like that for a good twenty minutes or so before noticing a particularly eye-catching envelope addressed directly to him with an elaborate IPC-esque seal on the front. Ah right, the letter. This must have been what Cassandra was talking about earlier. He sits up straight and sorts out his posture. Opening his desk drawer, he hunts around for a bit until he finds the blade of a letter opener. He uses it to open the envelope and fishes out the letter within. It's written in printed cursive on crisp and pure white paper with an ornate golden border around the edge. Gold leaves creep up the sides and dance around the corners, making Kakavasha feel as if it’s addressed to the wrong person at first. His name plastered on the back of the envelope and the top of the paper says otherwise.
It's an invitation.
To the wise and honourable Doctor Kakavasha,
The Interastral Peace Corporation invites you and several other esteemed members of the Intelligentsia Guild to a business party at 8pm on Friday the [xx] of [xxxx] at Pier Point. This is a black-tie event, so please dress applicably. Transport will be provided for you, so please RSVP as soon as possible if you wish to attend. This is a party hosted in hopes of forging positive relations between the IPC and its allied organisations, as well as fostering camaraderie and healthy business. We look forward to hearing from you.
Kind regards,
D, P47
Kakavasha rereads the letter several times, frown deepening more and more as his comprehension of it improves. His immediate thought is to rip it up and throw the remains in his paper bin. Kakavasha hates parties. He has done for years. They're always full of demeaning pricks trying to get into either his research papers or his pants. The Avgin has always refused both.
A business party connecting the Intelligentsia Guild and the IPC. The two organisations already have connections with each other, the latter funding a lot of the projects within the former, so what gives? Why have this party? Granted, it states several reasons within the letter, but the IPC is nothing without their ulterior motives. It could be as simple as the rich and powerful wanting to rub elbows with the other rich and powerful (knowing this universe, this is probably the case), but there is always the possibility of more menacing reasons.
Kakavasha is a scholar at heart. Scholars have always been beings of curiosity. He reads the letter again and sees another thing that catches his eye.
D: an initial that implies that this is an invite by Diamond, founder of the Ten Stonehearts. Will this Diamond, rumoured Emanator of Qlipoth the Preservation, actually be present during this party? Absolutely not. He's far too important for that. Will other Stonehearts be present, though? Almost definitely. Kakavasha's mind flicks back to the rabbit hole he fell down in the wee hours of the morning one night, surfing the Internet and scrounging the web for information on a certain grape-haired executive he's so closely compared to.
Veritas Ratio. Lapis Lazuli. Maybe he will be there. Maybe they can have a discussion about how to cure his dastardly luck.
Kakavasha picks up his phone and dials for his secretary. She answers almost immediately.
“Yes, Doctor?” she begins.
“Hiya, Cassandra. Please may you contact the IPC with a RSVP? I've been asked to attend a party of theirs.”
“Doctor Kakavasha? At a party? Willingly? I must be going mad,” she jokes.
“You and I both,” he chuckles in response. “Thanks Cassandra.”
“Of course.”
Kakavasha puts the phone down and leans back in his chair, calculating in his mind quietly at what in Gaiathra’s great name he’s doing.
He's going to need a suit.
-
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fyiin7 · 1 day
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I just wanna be the girl you like!
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⋆˚✿˖° Geto Suguru loves bullying and humiliating you, making your college life hell. But he doesn't know, that you secretly likes it.
⋆˚✿˖° Pairings: Bully! Suguru x Fem! Reader
⋆˚✿˖°Tags: Smut with plot, slight angst, doggy style, spanking, masochist, rough sex, masturbation (in front of Suguru :0), spitting in mouth, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
You step onto the campus grounds, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the bustling courtyard. With a deep breath, you clutch your bag a little tighter, bracing yourself for what you know is coming. It’s become routine by now—college life should be a fresh start, but for you, it's an ongoing battle. And that battle has a name: Suguru Geto.
You spot him almost immediately, leaning casually against a lamppost with his friends, his dark hair falling lazily across his forehead. He’s smirking, as usual, already exuding an air of authority. His gaze sweeps across the courtyard until it lands on you. Your heart skips a beat despite yourself, and you can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline and nerves.
As Suguru pushes off the lamppost and starts walking in your direction, his friends snicker, already anticipating the show.
“There you are, loser,” he calls out, loud enough for those around you to hear. His voice is casual, as though this were just another day of teasing, another moment of him singling you out.
You swallow hard, the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults as he approaches. Your cheeks burn, not from embarrassment, but from the strange thrill of seeing him up close. There’s something about the way he moves, the confidence in his step that has you unable to look away—even though you know what's coming.
Suguru stops just in front of you, towering over you with that trademark smirk. “Didn’t think you’d make it today. Thought you finally got smart and dropped out.”
His words are sharp, cutting through the air, but they don’t sting like they should. Instead, your heart pounds in your chest, betraying how much you crave his attention, even if it’s through insults.
“I—I’m here,” you manage to mumble, trying to keep your voice steady. You lower your gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you are.
“Of course you are,” he scoffs, stepping even closer. You feel the tip of his shoe nudge yours, a clear power play. “How could you stay away, huh? Always following me around like a lost puppy.”
His friends laugh, and you know you should feel humiliated. But instead, all you can focus on is how close he is, how his scent—a mix of cologne and something uniquely Suguru—fills the air between you. If only he knew how much you looked forward to these moments.
Suguru’s hand reaches out, flicking the strap of your bag just enough to make you lose grip, and it tumbles to the ground. “Oops,” he says with mock innocence. “You’re so clumsy. Can’t even hold onto your stuff.”
As you bend down to pick it up, you hear him chuckle under his breath. Normally, being treated like this would have anyone seething with anger or sadness. But not you. In some twisted way, this is the only interaction you get with him, and it’s enough. Your secret crush on him is a guilty pleasure, one you know you shouldn’t have, but can’t shake off.
As you rise, your eyes meet his, and for a brief second, you wonder if he sees it—if he can sense that you’re not like the others. That you don’t mind. That, in a way, you look forward to these encounters.
But then the smirk returns, and he turns to leave. “See you around, loser,” he throws over his shoulder, his friends following behind him. You watch him go, your heart still racing.
Even though you’ve just been humiliated, part of you can’t wait for the next time.
⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖
You were sitting in the corner of the campus café, absentmindedly stirring your coffee as the hum of student chatter filled the air. It was supposed to be a quick break before your next class, but then you heard a familiar voice.
Suguru.
Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him sitting at a nearby table with his friends. You hadn’t planned on paying attention, but when you caught the topic of their conversation, your curiosity spiked.
“So, Suguru,” one of his friends said with a teasing grin, “you gotta tell us. What’s your type? You’re always brushing girls off like they don’t exist.”
You felt your ears perk up, and instinctively, you shifted in your seat, trying to make it look like you were still minding your own business. But your attention was laser-focused now, every fiber of your being tuned into what Suguru might say next.
“Yeah, come on, man,” another friend chimed in. “There’s gotta be someone who catches your eye. Or are you just too good for everyone?”
Suguru leaned back in his chair, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed unfazed by the question, his eyes lazily scanning the room as though thinking it over. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, anticipation gnawing at you. What if you fit his type? What if you didn’t?
Finally, Suguru spoke, his tone casual. “I guess I like a girl who’s not too easy to figure out.”
Your heart sped up. Not easy to figure out? What did that mean?
His friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague, man. You gotta give us more than that.”
Suguru chuckled softly. “I mean, someone who’s not all over me, you know? Confident but not in my face about it. Someone who’s got her own thing going on.”
You subtly grabbed your phone, opening a blank note and typing down his words as discreetly as possible. Confident…has her own thing going on…not too easy to figure out…
Suguru’s eyes glinted as he continued, leaning forward slightly. “She’s gotta be tough, but not loud about it. I don’t need someone who constantly tries to get my attention. I’ll notice her when she’s just doing her thing.”
Your fingers hovered over the screen, digesting his words. Tough but not loud. Someone who doesn’t need to try too hard. You wondered if you could be that kind of person. You certainly never tried to get his attention on purpose—but then again, was that what kept him bullying you?
His friend laughed, shaking his head. “So, basically a girl who can handle your attitude, huh?”
Suguru shrugged, smirking. “Something like that. And maybe someone who can surprise me.”
Surprise him? You furrowed your brow. That was a tricky one. What would surprise someone like Suguru, who always seemed so unfazed by everything?
The conversation drifted after that, but you were already lost in thought, replaying his words over and over. You couldn’t help but wonder—could you be that girl? Could you show Suguru that you had more to offer than what he saw when he teased you? Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to catch his attention without changing too much of who you were.
You glanced back at him, his confident posture and careless expression still making your heart race. One thing was certain: you were going to try.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
The next morning, you woke up before the sun had even fully risen, your heart already racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Today was different. Today, you had a plan.
You tiptoed into your sister's room, gently nudging her awake. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she propped herself up. "Why are you waking me up this early?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.
You smiled, trying to sound casual. “I just thought… maybe you could help me with some makeup? You know, just for fun. I kinda want to look pretty today.”
Your sister raised an eyebrow, still a little groggy but clearly surprised. “Since when do you care about makeup?”
You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “I dunno. Just felt like changing things up.”
After some teasing and half-hearted grumbling, she eventually agreed. You sat in front of her vanity, letting her work her magic. As the brush swept across your cheeks and the eyeliner flicked along your lashes, you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the mirror. It was subtle, but enough to make you feel… different. Maybe even confident.
By the time she finished, you barely recognized yourself. You looked put-together, polished, like someone who could easily fit into Suguru’s idea of a girl who “had her own thing going on.”
Your sister stood back, admiring her work. “There. You look amazing. Who’s this for, anyway? Anyone special?”
You shook your head quickly, laughing nervously. “No, no one. I just wanted to do it for myself.”
She gave you a knowing look, but didn’t press further. “Well, whoever it’s for, they’re gonna notice you.”
That’s what you hoped for, too.
..
Arriving on campus, you felt a little more self-conscious than usual. Every time someone’s gaze lingered a little too long, you wondered if they noticed the makeup, if you looked different from your usual self. Your heart pounded as you scanned the courtyard for Suguru, anticipation swirling in your stomach.
Then, you saw him—leaning against the same lamppost as yesterday, his familiar group of friends surrounding him. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and walking in their direction, hoping that maybe today he’d see you in a new light.
But as soon as you came into view, his eyes found yours. A flicker of something—was it surprise?—crossed his face before it quickly turned back into his usual smirk.
“Well, well, look who it is,” Suguru said, pushing off the lamppost as he strolled toward you. His friends snickered behind him, already sensing something was coming. “You trying out a new look today?”
Your throat tightened, nerves buzzing under your skin. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice. Maybe—just maybe—he’d say something nice. Maybe he’d notice the effort you’d put in, even if he didn’t say it outright.
Suguru stopped in front of you, his eyes scanning your face with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a second, hope bubbled in your chest.
Then he laughed. Loud, sharp, and cruel.
“What’s this? You think a little makeup is gonna change who you are?” He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescension. “You look pathetic.”
The word hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, feeling your face heat up—not from the flustered crush you were used to, but from the sting of his words.
“I mean, come on,” he continued, still smirking. “Who are you trying to impress? Me? That’s just sad.”
You couldn’t move. Every word felt like it was tearing through the fragile confidence you’d built up that morning. His friends laughed along with him, their voices a distant echo as you stood frozen, your heart sinking.
Suguru tilted his head, as if waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stand there, cheeks burning, your gaze fixed on the ground. You had hoped—no, expected—something different. But now, you just felt… humiliated.
With a final scoff, Suguru turned away, his interest in you fading as quickly as it had come. “Better luck next time, loser."
As he walked off, you stayed rooted in place, trying to keep the tears from welling up. You had tried so hard to get his attention, but now, you weren’t sure it had been worth it at all.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
You barely made it to the bathroom before the tears started spilling over. The second the door closed behind you, you rushed into one of the stalls, slamming the lock shut. The cool metal felt grounding under your fingertips as you pressed your back against the door, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor.
The floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your chest ached, the humiliation twisting and knotting inside you. Hot tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring as you buried your head in your hands.
Your makeup. The hours spent preparing, the hopeful glances in the mirror that morning—it was all for nothing.
You felt the sting of your eyeliner and mascara mixing with the tears, smudging and running down your cheeks. You wiped at your face furiously, only to make it worse. Black streaks stained your fingers as your sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty bathroom.
Why had you thought this would work? Why had you convinced yourself that Suguru would see you differently, even for a second? He had laughed in your face, torn down every bit of hope you had built up.
Pathetic. The word echoed in your mind, replaying over and over.
You weren’t tough. You weren’t confident. You were just the same person he bullied every day, and no amount of makeup or effort could change that.
A sharp sob escaped your throat, and you pressed your hand against your mouth to muffle the sound. You hated how vulnerable you felt—alone, broken down by the person you secretly admired.
You sniffled, feeling the wetness on your cheeks, smearing the once-pristine makeup your sister had applied with care. There was no use trying to fix it now. Everything was ruined.
As the tears slowed and the sobs quieted, the rawness in your chest remained. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but the cold bathroom stall felt like a strange refuge, a place where you could fall apart without anyone seeing.
Maybe you should just give up liking your own bully.
..
After that day, you made a decision—you weren’t going to waste any more time on Suguru. It wasn’t easy to let go of feelings that had been festering for so long, but his cruel laughter and the sting of his words were more than enough to finally shake you awake.
Since then, you’d managed to avoid him. You memorized his usual routes around campus, always taking another hallway or exiting through a different door. Even if you caught a glimpse of him from a distance, you turned your head or ducked into the nearest building. For days, you managed to keep out of his line of sight, and for the first time, it felt like you had a sliver of control.
No more Suguru Geto. No more being his punching bag.
But on one particular afternoon, just as classes had ended and you were gathering your things, you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Startled, you barely had time to react before you were yanked backward, stumbling as someone pulled you out of the crowd. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw who it was.
Suguru.
Without a word, he dragged you down the hallway, his grip tight and unyielding, his expression unreadable. You tried to pull away, panic rising in your chest, but his hold on you only tightened.
"Suguru, what the fuck are you—" you started, but he cut you off with a harsh glare, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for explanations.
He pulled you into one of the campus’s old, rarely used classrooms. The door slammed shut behind you as he shoved you inside, trapping you in the space with him. The classroom was dusty and forgotten, with old desks piled up and dim light filtering through dirty windows. It felt claustrophobic, and your heart pounded as you turned to face him.
Suguru looked furious. His usually calm, smirking demeanor was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. His eyes bore into yours with a strange intensity, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Why the hell have you been avoiding me?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
You blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things you’d expected, this confrontation was not one of them. "What—what do you mean?"
“You know exactly what I mean," he snapped, stepping closer. "Don’t play dumb."
His anger was palpable, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I—I just... I needed space. You made it pretty clear how you feel about me."
Suguru’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. "What are you talking about?"
You clenched your fists, suddenly finding the courage to say what had been boiling inside you since that day. "You called me pathetic, Suguru! You humiliated me in front of everyone, laughed in my face! What more is there to say?"
For a brief second, his expression faltered, but it quickly hardened again. "That’s no reason to just disappear."
You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. “Why does it even matter to you? I thought you didn’t care.”
Suguru’s gaze darkened, his frustration evident. "It matters," he said through gritted teeth, though his voice was quieter now, almost as if he didn’t want to admit it. "And I don’t like being ignored."
Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru’s words sank in. The sheer audacity of his anger—his claim that you had no right to avoid him—boiled something deep within you. For days, you had dealt with the sting of humiliation, replaying his cruel laughter over and over in your head. And now, here he was, angry because you had taken control, because you had the nerve to walk away?
Suddenly, something snapped inside you. Without thinking, you swung your hand, and the sharp sound of your palm connecting with his cheek echoed through the room.
Suguru’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and for a moment, everything was still. You stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your hand trembling from the adrenaline. It was the first time you had ever fought back against him.
But that moment of silence didn’t last.
In an instant, Suguru’s rage flared. His eyes darkened, and before you could even blink, his hand shot out, gripping you roughly by the hair. You gasped as the sharp pain radiated through your scalp, your head forced back to meet his furious gaze.
"You really shouldn’t have done that," he growled.
Your heart hammered in your chest, but despite the fear coursing through you, a flicker of defiance still burned. You glared back at him, refusing to let him see you cower.
Suguru’s grip tightened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against your face as his voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You think you’re brave now? Pathetic," he spat. "You’ve always been pathetic. And what’s worse is that you actually thought putting on some makeup and acting like someone else would change anything. Like I wouldn’t notice."
His words cut deep, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the hold he had on you. His hand tugged harder at your hair, and you winced, biting your lip to keep from crying out.
"You think I didn’t know?" he continued, his sneer twisting into something crueler. "It’s obvious you’ve had a crush on me this whole time. You practically throw yourself at me every time I walk by. It’s pathetic how you thought you could hide it."
Your stomach dropped. The blood drained from your face as the reality of his words hit you. He had known all along. Every glance, every small interaction you’d thought was hidden… he had seen it. And worse, he had mocked you for it.
"Is that why you’re always following me around, huh?" Suguru’s voice was laced with contempt. "Thinking you’d have a chance? You’re delusional."
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru's grip on your hair tightened, his eyes burning with a dark intensity. The sharp sting against your scalp made your breath hitch, but it wasn’t just the pain that had you reeling—it was the look in his eyes, the way his lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now, there was something more dangerous behind it.
"You really like me, huh?" he sneered, his voice low, almost a purr. His face was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension crackling between you like electricity. "All this time… trying to get my attention."
Your heart thudded painfully, but before you could muster a response, his smirk deepened. His thumb brushed against your cheek, rough but deliberate. "If you like me that much, you need to prove it. Show me how much you really do."
Before you could even process his words, Suguru’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, almost punishing, as he claimed your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no softness, no hesitation—it was fierce, filled with the pent-up tension that had been building between you two for so long.
You froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation, but then his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your body responded instinctively, melting into the kiss despite the chaos in your mind. His touch, rough yet possessive, sent a shiver down your spine.
Suguru’s lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if he had been holding back for far too long. And even though his actions were far from gentle, there was something undeniable in the way he kissed you—as if he was proving something, too.
When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, and the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.
"You wanted my attention," he said, his voice low and dripping with arrogance. "Well, now you have it."
"Get on your knees," he said, his voice firm as he pushed you down. "I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."
He towers over you, slowly undoing his pants. His cock springs free, already hard and ready. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice laced with desire, "Show me what you've got." He grabbed your hair again, guiding your head towards his cock, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
You can feel your pussy clenching, body begging for his cock. Your tongue darts out, licking the tip of his cock, the taste of his pre-cum making your mouth water.
Your lips part, and you feels your body betray you as you take the head of Suguru’s cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip, savoring the taste.
Suguru let out a guttural moan as your tongue flicked against the tip of his cock, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His grip on your hair tightened, his fingers threading through your strands as he watched you take him in.
"Fuck, baby, that's it," he praised, his hips bucking slightly, as if trying to push deeper into your mouth. "Keep going, let's see how far you can take me." He could feel the heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, and he knew he wouldn't last long.
He wanted to fuck you, to claim you in every way possible. "Now, I want you to take it all, deepthroat my cock, baby," he commanded, his voice gruff and demanding. He wanted to see how much you could handle, how much you'd submit to his will. "Show me how much you want my cock inside you."
You swallow your saliva, before you slowly took him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks. He groaned, the sound deep and primal as he felt you take him deeper. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He needed more, needed to control this, needed to make you submit to him completely.
"Fuck, baby, that's not gonna cut it," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening even more. He started to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with abandon, his cock sliding in and out, deeper and harder each time.
"Take it, baby," he commanded, his voice harsh and demanding. "Take my cock, all of it. Show me how much you want it." He could feel you gagging, feel your body struggling to take him in, and it only spurred him on more. He wanted to see you choke on his cock, wanted to see you completely at his mercy.
Your eyes are started to get watery, you are out of breath. "Mmf..!" your voice muffled. Your hand tap his thighs, signaling that you really need your oxygen.
The sight of you submitting to him like this only made him harder, his cock twitching in your mouth. He could see the water in your eyes, but he didn't let up.
He wanted to dominate you, to show you who was in control. He pulled your head back, slamming his cock into your mouth, face-fucking you mercilessly. "That's it, take it, you little bitch," he growled, his hips moving in a frenzied rhythm. "I want to see you gag on my cock."
He didn't care about your need for oxygen, only driven by his desires. He could feel your throat muscles clenching around his cock, the sensation making him even more aroused. "Fuck, you're loving this, aren't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hair never loosening.
He continued to face-fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, the sound of wet slapping filling the room. A cruel smile spread across his face as he pulled out slightly, allowing you to gasp for air. Suguru’s hand land on your left cheek, his slap a stinging pain. But for some reason, you love it.
"H-hah..t-that's enough..please.." you begged, already breathless.
Suguru released you and watched as you tried to catch your breath, the sight of you gagging and struggling turning him on even more. "Alright, baby, you've earned a break," he lied, his smirk returning.
He pulled you up, standing you in front of a table in the corner of the room. "Bend over," he commanded, his voice firm. You hesitated, but he didn't give you the chance to refuse. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and pushing you down onto the table.
"Keep your legs spread and your arms on the table," he ordered, his hand already hovering over your ass. "Now, count, starting from one."
Suguru brought his hand down hard on your ass, making you yelp in surprise. "One," you said, voice shaky. He spanked you again, this time harder, making you cry out. "T-two!"
He continued to spank you, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack each time. "Three, f-four..ah! Five.."
You could feel the sting on your ass, the heat building with each spank as you counted until.. "N-nine..ten," you said, and his hand pausing for a moment. "Now, I want you to spread your legs wider and touch yourself, baby," he commanded, his voice a cruel mix of desire and control.
"W-what?" You hesitated. but he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling it enough to make you whimper. "Do it, slut," he growled, the use of the name making you wetter.
You obeyed, spreading your legs as wide as you could, your fingers finding your wetness. "Good girl," he praised, his hand sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing it gently. "Now, play with yourself while I watch."
Leaning against the table, Suguru’s eyes locked on your fingers as they moved to rub yourself through your cotton panties. The sight of you touching yourself, the sound of your whimpers, drives him insane.
He stepped forward, his cock harder than ever, and ripped off your panties. "Enough playing, baby," he growled, his hands gripping your hips.
He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock pressing against you, teasing you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and I'm going to fuck you hard," he warned, his voice laced with promise and threat.
Without waiting for your response, Suguru thrust into you, his cock filling you completely. "H-hngh..!!" you let out a loud moan as he began to move inside you. He pulled your hair back, his grip tight, and started to fuck you with a rough, animalistic fervor.
Suguru slammed into you, his hips moving in a brutal rhythm, your body bouncing on the table. His other hand came around, gripping your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp for air. "Fuck, you feel so good. Too good for a loser," he growled, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate while his hand moves to pinch both of your nipple, making you yelp in surprised.
"Open your mouth," he demand. Suguru, in the heat of the moment, decided to spit into your mouth. He pulled your head back, your lips meeting his in a rough, sloppy kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, mingling with his saliva.
The act only seemed to fuel his lust further. He let go of your throat, his hand sliding down to your ass, gripping it tightly. "You like that, don't you, hm?" he growled, his voice deep and possessive. "You like being treated like this?" Your pussy clenches tightly at his treatment, you feel your mind going numb, dumb, in a haze.
He started to spank you again, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack. The sound echoed through the cabin, the sting of the spank making you cry out. "Tell me you like it," he demanded, his thrusts becoming more erratic.
"O-oh fuck..yes..I love it-!" you moaned, eyes rolling back. "P-please..I'm gonna cum-!" you moaned, almost a scream.
Suguru leaned down, his lips pressing against your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock," he commanded, his voice raw and needy as he rubs your clit with his thumb in a tight circle. He felt your body tense, your walls clenching around him, and that was all it took.
With a loud groan, he let go, his seed filling you as he continued to thrust. He held you close, his grip tight as he rode out the waves of pleasure. "Fuck, baby, take it all in," he whispered, his voice heavy with lust and possession.
Suguru pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your juices and his cum. He let out a low whistle, looking at your fucked up state. He didn't miss a chance to took his phone out, taking a picture of you before he wore his pants back.
“Well,” he said, his tone teasing, almost indifferent. “I’d say that’s more than enough for you to remember me by. Consider it a gift for all that hopeless admiration of yours.” He chuckled softly, the sound cold and dismissive, making your chest tighten.
You sat there, still catching your breath, your body weak from everything that had just happened, but his words stung. You had just shared something so intimate, something that had felt so intense in the moment, but to him… it seemed like it was nothing. Just a way to toy with you.
Suguru turned away, adjusting his shirt like this was just another moment in his day. “Don’t go thinking this means anything more,” he added, his voice casual as he headed toward the door. “This was just… for fun. And now it’s over.”
You swallowed hard, feeling a painful lump form in your throat as you watched him. Part of you wanted to shout at him, to ask why he had done this, why he had kissed you and touched you like that if it meant nothing. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you watched as he reached for the door, pausing for just a second before looking over his shoulder, his gaze sharp.
“Take care, yeah? I’ve got better things to do.” And with that, Suguru stepped out of the classroom, leaving you alone in the dim, quiet space.
For a long moment, you didn’t move. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a confusing mess of anger, hurt, and… something else. You knew you should hate him for how he treated you, for the way he had used your feelings against you, but as you sat there, your body still tingling from his touch, a realization crept in.
Despite everything, despite his cruelty and the way he had just dismissed you—you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for him all over again. The way he looked at you, the way his touch had made you feel alive, like you were the only person in the world for just that moment… it had reignited something in you.
You pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart pound. How could someone who hurt you so deeply also make you feel so intensely?
Even after everything, you couldn’t deny it. You were still hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
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rosemariiaa · 1 hour
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~Lasts Firsts~
pairing: Paige x Azzi
a/n: yes i did lose my mind writing this but i had to! this is also my apology for the last fic.. 🤗 this is pretty long so take your time babe, also some tags @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @bueckerscore @juspeaks
themes: fluff, teasing
Enjoy!!!
It was barely 8:00 AM when Paige rolled over, her arm draping across the empty space next to her. She blinked into the early morning light, trying to shake off the sleep. She could already hear Azzi in the bathroom, humming softly, the sound so familiar it brought a small smile to her lips.
Last media day together.
The thought lingered like a weight on her chest, bittersweet and heavy. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling that familiar ache in her muscles from practice the day before, and made her way to the bathroom.
Azzi was standing in front of the mirror, twisting one of her curls between her fingers. Paige leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her girlfriend’s morning routine—how peaceful she looked, even though they both knew today was going to be pretty emotional.
“Ready for the chaos?” Paige mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep.
Azzi turned her head, giving Paige that small smile she always had when she knew Paige was nervous about something. “You asking me or yourself?”
Paige snorted, stepping closer until she was leaning against the counter beside Azzi. “Both, I guess.”
They didn’t say much after that, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Paige stared at her reflection for a moment, the weight of everything finally sinking in. Last media day, last season. After this? The WNBA.
“You think we’ll survive?” Paige asked quietly, her tone light but not really joking. Azzi met her eyes in the mirror, and for a second, Paige saw all the emotions they hadn’t really said out loud. There was excitement, sure, but underneath it was that uncertainty, the looming unknown of what came next.
“Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softer than usual. “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. You’ve been ready for this.”
Paige didn’t respond at first, just dropped her gaze to the sink. She’d been thinking about this a lot more than she’d let on. The WNBA wasn’t just another level—it was the next chapter of her life. And as much as she knew she wanted it, there was a part of her that was terrified.
“What if I’m not, though?” Paige’s voice came out quieter than she meant. “What if I mess this up? I mean… WNBA? That’s a whole new ballgame.”
Azzi turned around fully now, leaning her hip against the counter. She reached out, gently grabbing Paige’s wrist, thumb brushing over her skin in that way that always calmed her down.
“You’ve been playing against pros for years, P. You’re gonna go in there and do exactly what you do best. And… don’t forget you’ll be up against Diana, you’re probably gonna block her shots and then she’ll talk all kinds of shit you know how she gets,” Azzi teased, trying to pull Paige out of her thoughts.
Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “I can’t wait for Diana to “hate” me.” Azzi smirked. “Just don’t embarrass her too much.”
“Oh, I will. But not before embarrassing your Aces,” Paige shot back, her grin widening as Azzi’s eyes narrowed in mock warning.
“Excuse me?” Azzi gasped dramatically. “You better not mess with my team. If you even think about beating them, I’ll fly out there and beat you up.”
Paige laughed, leaning into Azzi, her forehead resting against hers. “You’re cute when you threaten me.”
“Not a threat, babe,” Azzi replied, her smile softening as she tilted her head just slightly, brushing her nose against Paige’s. “I’m dead serious. Leave the Aces alone.”
Paige wrapped her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist, finally letting herself breathe. For a second, she could forget about the future. It was just the two of them again, standing in their shared apartment, holding on to each other before the world outside came rushing in.
———-
By the time they arrived in the gym, the chaos was already in full swing, with half the girls making tiktok’s and going crazy per usual. The cameras, the bright lights, the reporters—it was all routine by now, but this time, everything felt heightened. It was their last one. The final first.
Paige watched as Azzi stepped in front of the camera, her expression automatically settling into her “game face,” the serious one she always had before interviews. Paige stood to the side, arms crossed, watching with amusement.
“You look like you’re about to kill somebody,” she muttered under her breath as she moved to stand beside Azzi for their photos. Azzi shot her a look. “I’m just focused.”
“Focused on terrifying everyone,” Paige teased, nudging her with her shoulder.
Azzi tried not to smile, but it broke through anyway, and Paige could feel the tension between them melt a little as they fell into the easy rhythm of their chemistry. They took their usual photos, Paige throwing her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, and their traditional piggyback pose, the same way they’ve done a thousand times before. But this time, the air between them felt different—heavier, full of all the memories they shared.
After the cameras stopped flashing, they hung back for a bit, watching the rest of the team get their moments in front of the lens.
“This feels… weird, right?” Paige said, her voice a little quieter now.
Azzi just nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s also kinda nice, knowing we did this together.”
Paige looked at her, her chest tightening with that familiar feeling of bittersweetness. “You’re gonna make me cry.” Azzi gave her a teasing smirk. “That’s my plan.”
———-
The media day madness finally wrapped up, and before Azzi could even think about unwinding, Paige had dragged her back home with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“What are you planning, Bueckers?” Azzi asked, standing in the doorway of their apartment, her arms crossed. “You’ll see. Just get dressed,” Paige said with a grin, shooing her toward the bedroom.
Azzi rolled her eyes but went along with it, emerging a few minutes later in the white tube top with Paige’s pink cover-up and those low-waisted jeans that Paige always went quiet about. She gave a little twirl, watching Paige’s eyes darken slightly.
“Stole my clothes again, huh?” Paige asked, leaning against the wall, trying to look unfazed.
Azzi smirked. “You love it.”
Paige just shook her head. “Get in the car, weirdo.”
They spent the car ride to the restaurant in comfortable silence, the only sound being Paige’s playlist—songs she’d carefully picked over the years, ones that always made her think of Azzi. At some point, Mitski came on, and Azzi hummed softly to the tune, stealing glances at Paige, who was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“So, P,” Azzi started casually, “how nervous are you to play against Diana?”
Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not nervous are ut playing against Diana. I’m nervous about her kicking my ass after I block her.” Azzi laughed, the sound light and warm. “She probably will. I’ll be sitting courtside, watching her destroy you.”
“Thanks for the support babe,” Paige muttered, but she was smiling. Azzi always knew how to pull her out of her head when she got too wrapped up in her own thoughts.
“And just remember,” Azzi said, her tone a little more serious but still playful, “if you mess with the Aces, I will find you madison.”
Paige threw her a sideways glance. “Oh, I know. You won’t have to find me—I’ll be waiting for you.”
Azzi grinned. “You better be.”
———-
When they got to the restaurant, Paige made sure they sat in a booth—one where she could sit across from Azzi and just look at her. It wasn’t the most subtle thing in the world, but Paige didn’t care. Azzi caught on, of course, giving her a raised eyebrow.
“What? I just like looking at you,” Paige said with a shrug, grinning like she hadn’t just been caught.
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”
They were mid-conversation when the waiter came over, a girl with a bright smile who seemed way too interested in Azzi. Paige noticed immediately, her smile dropping slightly as the woman complimented Azzi’s hair, her outfit, even her smile. Azzi, as usual, was completely oblivious.
“Thanks,” Azzi said, flashing the girl a casual smile, but Paige could see what was going on, and it annoyed her just enough to act on it.
Without a second thought, Paige reached across the table, placing her hand firmly over Azzi’s. The waiter glanced down, her smile faltering as she realized the situation, quickly taking their order and backing off with a stiff nod.
Azzi blinked, glancing down at their hands before looking back up at Paige with an amused expression. “Was that jealousy?” Paige scoffed. “No, that was me stopping her from embarrassing herself.”
Azzi grinned, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Uh-huh. Sure, Paige.”
After dinner, the laughter between them hadn’t stopped. Even as they waved goodbye to their server, still teasing each other about that moment of jealousy, the warmth between them stayed, making the whole night feel like a dream.
Azzi didn’t even bother pulling out her card when the check arrived. The second she started reaching for her wallet, Paige shot her a look, the kind of look that said, don’t even think about it. Azzi had seen that look so many times before and just grinned, leaning back in her seat as Paige effortlessly snatched the check, sliding her own card inside before Azzi even got a chance to protest.
“Every time?” Azzi asked, her tone half-amused, half-resigned.
Paige just shrugged, a cocky smile on her lips. “I like spoiling you. What can I say?”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the truth was she loved it too. It was a Paige thing—doing little things like this without asking, always showing she cared in her own way.
After they walked out of the restaurant, Paige naturally slipped her arm around Azzi’s waist like she always did. It wasn’t even a conscious move anymore; it was just how Paige was. Her hand rested comfortably against Azzi’s side, pulling her a little closer as they walked down the quiet street. Azzi leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth from Paige’s body and the comfort that always came with being this close.
Paige’s grip was gentle but firm, protective in a way that Azzi had always loved. It was something Paige did, even when she didn’t realize it—holding her close, like she was making sure Azzi knew she was always there, no matter what. It made Azzi smile, thinking about how many times Paige had held her like this over the years, whether after a tough game, during quiet moments between them, or just walking down the street like this.
They kept walking, laughing softly, the cool night air brushing against their faces, but neither of them seemed to notice. Everything felt easy between them, and Paige, in her usual way, kept the conversation light. Azzi could tell Paige was doing it on purpose, making her laugh to keep them from thinking too much about all the changes on the horizon.
They were about halfway to the car when Azzi suddenly slowed her pace, and Paige’s arm tightened slightly around her waist, glancing over with a curious look.
“You okay?” Paige asked, her voice casual but her gaze full of affection.
Azzi didn’t answer right away. She stopped, turning toward Paige and stepping in closer. Paige’s arm never left her waist, holding her in place like she always did, her body warm against Azzi’s side. Azzi stared at Paige for a long moment, just taking her in—the messy hair, the soft smile, the way she was always so present, so hers.
“I love you,” Azzi said suddenly, her voice soft but full of all the emotion she had been holding in. It wasn’t planned—it just came out, like it had been sitting on her chest, waiting for the right moment.
Paige blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes softened. Her hand on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, pulling her just a bit closer. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice gentle, almost like she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to hear those words.
They both stood there for a second, letting the words hang between them. Then, without thinking, Azzi reached up and cupped Paige’s face, pulling her in for a kiss. Paige didn’t hesitate, meeting her halfway, her lips soft and warm as they kissed in the middle of the street, the world around them fading away.
Paige’s arm stayed wrapped securely around Azzi’s waist as their kiss deepened, and it felt like everything else just melted away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was slow and full of love, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.
Azzi could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her own, steady and strong, and she knew, in that moment, that no matter what happened, no matter how far apart they might be in the future, they’d always have this. They’d always have each other.
When they finally pulled back, Paige’s forehead rested against Azzi’s, their breaths mixing in the cool night air. Paige smiled, her hand gently caressing Azzi’s side. “You’re stuck with me, you know that?” she whispered, her voice teasing but full of love.
Azzi grinned, her thumb tracing along Paige’s cheek. “Forever.”
———-
yeaa…that was a lot and so darn cute 🥹
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leiascully · 2 days
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Fic: The Altar Is My Hips (M, MSR)
1500 words; M for sexual situations; the POÄNG pals wondered what would happen if Mulder proposed while eating pussy and here is the result (ao3)
Scully’s flat on her back in her bed with Mulder’s face between her legs. It’s her new favorite pastime. She’s got her hands in his silky hair and his tongue flicks at her clit in a steady rhythm. She lets her back arch, pushing her mound against his face. He hums in pleasure and licks a few lazy circles that leave her moaning.
Mulder, as she had always suspected, eats pussy like it’s his calling in life. Mulder eats pussy like other people eat oysters, and with twice as much relish. Maybe it’s that full lower lip or maybe it’s his nimble tongue or maybe it’s that distinguished profile, but Scully can’t resist. His face is a saddle and she’s ready to ride. Yee-haw.
She’s had lovers before who made it feel like a chore, but it’s obvious Mulder enjoys it. He’ll eat her out for hours, given the chance, moving from her on top to him on his knees to him pinning her to the bed to various configurations of 69. He’ll strip her down or tongue her through the nicer underwear she’s started wearing. She has to fuck him between sessions just to redistribute the sensation.
Maybe it’s the seven years of blue balls, but they’ve both been insatiable since they started fucking. She can’t get enough of him. She’s fairly sure Skinner’s noticed the way she’s been staring at Mulder during meetings, partly because she keeps putting the end of her pen in her mouth. It isn’t on purpose. She’s been hungry for so long, and now she’s got a buffet spread out in front of her. Or under her. Or on top of her. She’s flexible. So to speak.
Today she’s a pillow princess and Mulder’s doing all the work. All she has to do is lie back and not think of England. She has no thoughts when Mulder spreads her thighs. Her brain is blissfully empty, filled up with sparklers and fireflies and the heat of a perfect summer evening. Mulder’s made her come so hard she forgot how to speak. She wants him so much it makes her feel stupid. When he’s inside her, she doesn’t care about anything else in the world.
He sucks her clit gently into his mouth, teasing her. Sensation prickles through her. She’s got goosebumps. The tip of his tongue swirls over her clit, and then he rubs at her clit with the flat width of his tongue until it makes her vision go blurry. He moans into her and it’s such a fucking turn-on. If she wasn’t already drenched, she’d be wet just listening to him eat her out.
She combs her fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to grab a handful. She doesn’t always resist, but this isn’t that kind of occasion. This is sweet, deliciously leisurely. He’s been taking it very slow, pausing in his ministrations to kiss his way up the ticklish inside of her thigh. She’s sure she’s got a hickey just low enough that the hem of her underwear won’t conceal it. She’s lucky she doesn’t have one just above the back of her knee. Skinner would definitely raise an eyebrow over that one.
Mulder nudges her thighs further apart, pushing her open with the breadth of his shoulders. She splays her legs wide, putting herself on display for him. He makes a happy noise and pulls a little harder at her clit. She gasps and sighs. Her blood feels like hot honey, thick and sweet and slow. Her whole body is hot and loose. Need builds in her belly, but it’s a deliberate coiling, driven by the pace of Mulder’s tongue.
She doesn’t know how long she’s been here. She doesn’t care. She only knows that her body is a pleasure garden that Mulder cultivates. She’s magic. She’s the rocking of the ocean, punctuated by glints of sharper pleasure. Her orgasm feels inevitable, even in its early stages, but she doesn’t want to rush it. She’s enjoying herself, enjoying him enjoying her.
She can feel the moment his hunger shifts. He sucks harder at her, flicks his tongue faster. He knows how to drive her to the edge. He uses the tip of his tongue to tease the exquisitely sensitive bud of nerves under her clitoral hood and she yelps. The pleasure inside her grows. It’s hungrier than before. She needs more, or different, or something.
“Your fingers,” she manages to say, and he’s pushing inside her almost before she can say it. His elegant hands were made to fuck her. She’s convinced of it, despite any evidence to the contrary. Two fingers is usually enough, but not today. She’s starving for him. She wants him everywhere inside her. If he could eat her out and fuck her at the same time, she’d do it. She’d have an orgy of Mulders, one for every orifice and one to grow on.
“More,” she says, and a third finger joins the other two, thrusting deeper into her, seeking the spot he knows will make her come undone. She loves how well he knows her, how he still studies her. His attention is intense; she’s never felt anything like it. He shifts just a little and suddenly it feels like a kiss, somehow even more intimate than before. Fuck, she loves him. She whimpers as his fingers graze the right place and he groans against her clit.
It doesn’t take long after that. Not with his fingers fucking her and his mouth insistent on her most sensitive skin and his other hand reaching up to touch her breasts. She’s tugging at his hair now. Her thighs squeeze around his ears and she isn’t trying to suffocate him, but she can’t relax. Her body is drawn tight, vibrating like a bow string. He strums his tongue across her clit and his fingers work inside her and he’s tweaking one of her nipples and she’s caressing the other and oh God, she’s coming. Her hips buck and he pins her with one arm and licks her through the waves of pleasure. She shivers over and over, as if she’s chaining one orgasm to the next to the next, until finally it’s too much and she gently pushes him away. He raises his face and rests his chin on her thigh.
“God, Mulder, that was amazing.” She can’t catch her breath.
“Marry me,” he says. His face is wet. His lips glisten. He licks at them. She can’t tell if he’s nervous or relishing the moment.
She laughs and pushes up on her elbows to look at him. “What?”
“Marry me,” he says again. There’s something in his eyes that tells her it’s not a joke, but that’s hard to believe after all his previous proposals, variously in jest or inebriated.
“Isn’t that my line, after an orgasm like that?” she asks.
He huffs and his breath tickles her thigh. “If you’re trying to let me down easy, I get it.”
“Marry you,” she says.
He nods, his chin digging into her thigh.
She looks at him for a long moment. His eyes are dark with unsatisfied desire, but he waits as patiently as if they’re at the ticket counter at the airport. She measures his face with her eyes, as if she doesn’t know it by heart. She lets her heart open, a luxury she rarely allows herself. Love suffuses her as thoroughly as pleasure did, rippling through her until she can hardly breathe. Of course it’s Mulder. It’s always been Mulder. If it could be anyone, it’s Mulder. They’ve been pledged to each other since that night in Bellefleur when she stepped into his hotel room and showed him her skin and her naked fear and he showed her his soul in return.
“Okay,” she says.
His eyes light up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she says. She can wear a dress, white or otherwise. She can vow in front of God and her family to have and to hold him as long as they both shall live. She can wear his ring, be his wife, honor him, obey him (under very specific circumstances). The more she thinks about the idea, the better she likes it. “Will you marry me?”
“Of course I will,” he says.
“Come here,” she whispers, suddenly shy, and he hauls himself up the length of her body until she can kiss him. Mulder kisses like a fairytale: true love wrapped up in the strangest mysteries. She can taste herself on his mouth and feel the rigid heat of his cock against her hip. She shifts until he’s sliding between her folds, sliding into her, rocking slowly as they kiss. They make love; there’s no other word for it. They haven’t done it like this yet, somehow, though she would have sworn they’d tried it all. He moves in her, watching her, and she feels so new and so precious. Her eyes are glossy with tears, but so are his. She kisses his eyelids and he laughs a little. Her heart flares with heat. The world has been so cruel to him. Now he’s under her protection forever.
“Marry me?” he asks again as she arches under him.
“Yes,” she says as she comes again, “yes, yes, yes,” and she knows she’ll never stop saying it.
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gluion · 1 day
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between steel and velvet ➵ park gunwook
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knight!park gunwook x ruler!reader
although you and gunwook knew your respective duties to rule and protect the adrestian empire, the reality is that you two are only kids forced into such responsibilities.
general genre/warnings ➵ friends to lovers, royalty au, hurt/comfort, angst, gender neutral reader, theo of p1h & seungcheol of svt mention, use of names from fe3h because im unoriginal to be thinking of new names
word count ➵ 1.7k words
playlist ➵ the lakes by taylor swift // die with a smile by lady gaga & bruno mars
a/n ➵ this drabble is connected to my upcoming fic "prayers for a garden" :]] this can be read alone for the time being but it would be good if you check it out once it releases! for @shegotthewoobies who survived the gluion drought. thank you real yearner for supporting me. if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist
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gunwook is all too familiar with the weight of steel; rattling with every step and causing his shoulders to ache. the coolness of a silver hilt doesn’t faze him. his balance rarely falters with every jab and his arms are accustomed to every swing. still, he finds himself muttering complaints when he retreats to the quarters after a long day of training.
maybe it helps that he grew up surrounded by knights. with his father leading them, gunwook always found his home filled with men in armor who swung their tankards as they sung out sorrows of what it means to be one. on most nights, they’d tell gunwook to find another job (like he had a choice). they’d joke to him about running away from the life of a knight, but all he would do was smile as he shook his head.
because if gunwook had to be honest, he always found himself gravitating towards steel and chain—the only thing he hates is the idea of fitting into his father’s shoes; a well-respected commander who has known of sacrifice from the start, even going as far as having his own portrait on a wall filled with a lineage of rulers. after all, every king and commander is marked into the adrestian empire’s history—a pair from every tenure.
the reality is that gunwook lacks the skills of what it takes to be a commander. he has yet to learn what it means to lead an army, let alone know how to strategize, but his father had expectations that gunwook had to fulfill before he retires (or much worse, dies on the battlefield). 
gunwook can bear the weight of steel on his shoulders—not the title of a commander.
but his world shifted when he learned of who would be his partner—the one who he would be going down in history with—and he found himself constantly faced with the question his father would throw at him: does he have what it takes to serve you?
perhaps gunwook has time to level his expectations on what it means to take over his father’s role. because when he comes across you, he realizes that you two are in the same boat.
the only difference is that he seemed to have more time; more days to train and more hours to study battle plans.
your life, however, turned upside down in one day.
gunwook was going to call it a day. something about today’s training drained him until his legs were cramping. whenever he had to move his arms, he muttered profanities over the soreness. he already denied theo’s invitation for a night out at the saloon, to which he received an earful of complaints for. it didn’t help that seungcheol was making use of his superiority over him, going as far as ridiculing him for his lack of endurance.
but gunwook is all too familiar with his comrades; he wasn’t going to fall for the same tricks.
regardless of the objections, gunwook managed to escape the barracks. he didn’t even think to strip off his heavy armor. but the breeze of the night hit his cheeks—that was enough to give him the last ounce of energy for him to march back to the quarters.
he takes the same path from the barracks to his room; through the garden of different-colored hydrangeas, past the entrance of the chapel where he offers reverence, all the way to the hall filled with portraits. every time gunwook passes through this hall, his steps always slow down as he takes in the same paintings.
tonight shouldn’t be different.
as gunwook’s eyes grace through the portraits, paint strokes capturing commanders’ similar stern expressions, he recalls their history: their journey into the royal army, the sweat it took to become commander, and the sacrifices they made as they led the knights.
and similar to other nights, he makes the same comment: despite the bloodshed, they stood tall—will gunwook be able to say the same for himself?
yet, tonight presents its first difference.
from a distance, gunwook spots someone sitting on a velvet bench. his eyes squint as he continues to walk through the hall, only to make out that it’s you
it’s not unusual to spot you outside of your chambers but you were always accompanied, either by gunwook or a maid. yet, your lonely figure has their eyes peeled to a portrait.
his steps hasten—his majesty cannot be left unattended. no one would allow it—until he hears your sniffles. gunwook watches you wipe away your tears, only for more to stream down your cheeks, and he understands why you’re alone tonight.
you were never the type to cry in front of others. gunwook first learned that when you were scolded by the king. and while he can’t recall for what reason, he remembers the tremble in your voice as you asked him to wait outside your door for a few minutes. you came out of the room with a red, runny rose.
and it’s during these moments where gunwook curses the rattling of his armor because the next steps he takes draws your attention. you glance at him before blinking back the tears. “gunwook, i didn’t know you were here,” you say as you clear your throat in between words.
“your majesty, i didn’t mean to intrude. i was only on my way back to my quarters.”
you wave your hand in reassurance. “it’s okay.” another cough. “did your training finish just now?” you ask without sparing him a glance.
“yes, your majesty.”
with one nod, you say, “okay. i don’t want to keep you from resting. i’m sure you’ve had a long day.”
but gunwook doesn’t care for the lack of sleep he got today or the countless hours he spent in the barracks. “your majesty, there is no trouble with me staying.” you look at him, and he takes in your bloodshot eyes and red nose. “i’ll accompany you until the very end.”
all it takes is one smile from you before he stations himself beside you. as he looks straight ahead, he realizes what you’ve been looking at this whole time: a portrait of the king. your father.
“why don’t you sit down beside me?”
“your majesty, i don’t think it would be proper for me to do so. i’m only allowed to—”
“gunwook.” as your tone shifts from curiosity into agony, he peers over towards you. your eyes are glossy once more. “would you sit down beside me? just this once?”
and gunwook realizes that you didn’t need your commander right now—so, he follows.
he looks at the same painting you’re staring at, respecting and offering your last ounces of privacy. regardless of your request for him to stay by your side, he knows to not look should you shed any more tears.
but then you ask, “do you think you’re ready to be commander?”
gunwook thinks this is a test. if he lies, he might find himself poorly delivering his duties—but to be honest would mean to be removed from his job. away from you.
so, he settles for an answer that held a bit of both. “i don’t know.”
a soft hum leaves you, then silence follows.
gunwook thinks he might’ve failed to give the answer you were looking for. he shouldn’t have kept his guard down. he’s meant to serve you, after all—
“you have time.” his heart beats twice. “time to train. time to learn.” he exhales. “time to figure out if you want to be commander or not.”
gunwook can’t find the right words to say, so he opts for no response.
“i wish i had the same amount of time as you.”
your voice crack causes gunwook to glance at you, only to see you hiding your face behind your hands, and he looks away as he scolds himself for not respecting your privacy. 
he remains frozen in his seat. he didn’t know what to act as: your right-hand man or your counselor. at this moment, the boundaries are blurred.
gunwook doesn’t know how to serve you—until your hand reaches out for his.
he looks down to your linked hands that rest on his thigh; his callous-covered fingers in between yours. you grip onto his hand like it’s the first and last thing you can reach for in this hall, like how you were taught to hold a scepter, and gunwook figures out what you need him to be: your comfort.
as he laces his fingers with yours, your sobs turn into wails.
“gunwook, i can’t be the ruler. i can’t.” he looks at you whose eyes remain stuck to the painting. “i’m not fit for it, and i can’t be the ruler the empire wants. i can’t be what the people need.”
for a second, gunwook thinks he should interject. out of all the commoners and royalty within this castle, he’s certain about you. after all the time you’ve spent together, sharing to him in secrecy about your own plans for reformations, he knows where your heart lies—and that’s enough to prove your entitlement to the throne.
but it’s one sentence that changes his way of thinking, and he mourns with you.
“i’m only but a child.”
because like you, gunwook thinks the same of himself. maybe his hesitation doesn’t only come from his lack of skills and experience.
maybe it stems from the fact that he is still a kid, too.
and like every kid who cries, they long for a hug—and he does that for you.
as he wraps his arms around you, your face finds its spot by the crevice of his collar. the steel armor against your cheek is cold, and you try to chase his warmth by nuzzling into his neck, but his suit prevents you from doing so.
the last thing gunwook wants is to make you feel any lonelier, so he holds you close. his hand rubs your back in circles as you continue to sob, hoping that its warmth is enough to suffice. without thinking, his free hand reaches for the back of your head.
he freezes. he should be more careful with you. it’s not right for a knight to hold you—
you nuzzle your face closer to his neck.
gunwook realizes that this is what you need.
even if it meant going against the king. going against the commander. going against the world.
he’ll do anything if it means to remain by your side.
(gunwook would never expect the same thing from you.)
(but you would give up the world for him.)
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networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @blankjournal @zumblrnet
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elysiaheaven · 3 days
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𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿..? -𝟯𝟬-(The Fox's Wedding)-End ?
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The day came when you were supposed to be discharged. The room was quiet, the air still, when Bailu entered, her small figure barely making a sound. She approached your bed, eyes bright with hope. "Are you awake?" she whispered, peering closely at you.
But before she could get a proper answer, your instincts took over. Panic swelled within you, and without thinking, you tore yourself from the bed and ran. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you couldn’t stay. Not like this.
Later, Feixiao received word that you had disappeared. She listened carefully as the messenger explained what had happened, her expression calm yet unreadable. "So, she ran away again…" She leaned back, arms crossed, her eyes narrowing in thought.
One of the knights beside her shifted uneasily. "Should we send someone after her, General?"
Feixiao shook her head slowly, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "No… let her be for now. Y/N needs to decide what she wants for herself today. Maybe this is her way of finding her answer."
She gazed out of the window, her mind heavy with concern but understanding. "Sometimes, people need to run before they can face the truth."
Jiaoqiu sat in his recovery bed, the faint light from the window barely making a difference to his sightless eyes. His once sharp gaze was now a thing of the past, but his other senses were heightened. He could feel every shift in the air, hear the softest rustle of the leaves, and, more importantly, he could sense the emptiness in the room—your absence.
Rayne had just delivered the news, her voice hesitant, as if she were unsure how to tell him that you had run away.
He tilted his head slightly, a small, weary smile forming on his lips. “Such a devious little kitsune…” he said, his voice low but filled with a strange affection. “Always slipping through fingers like sand.”
His hand lifted to his face, tracing the bandages over his eyes. Even though he couldn’t see, he felt you in his mind, as if you were still lingering close, as if you were just out of reach. He knew you ran because you were scared, perhaps even ashamed. But he didn’t blame you. How could he? He understood the pain you carried, the burden of your existence.
“You’ll come back to me,” he murmured softly, his voice carrying a certain patience, as if he had all the time in the world. “It will take time… but you will.”
He leaned back into the bed, sighing deeply. There was no rush. He had been through so much already, and so had you. You were both scarred in ways no one could truly understand, but he wasn’t worried. You would return, as you always did, like a fox returning to its den.
“Feixiao tells me you’re healing… slowly, but surely,” Jiaoqiu continued, as though speaking to you directly, despite the distance between you. “Maybe you’re out there… running, hiding. But I know you’re trying to find yourself.”
He smiled again, the expression soft but full of understanding. “I’ll wait. We still have time.”
He rested, his thoughts wandered to the letter you had written, the words you had left for him. He had not been able to read them himself, but he had heard them—your voice, so full of emotion, so full of something he couldn’t quite place. He clung to those words, knowing that they were his connection to you, a promise yet to be fulfilled.
“Come back when you’re ready,” he whispered, closing his eyes, sinking deeper into the quiet darkness. “We still have so much to say… and so much more to live for.”
A few days passed.....
It was confirmed...Jiaoqiu's eyesight can't be cured. Even if it's cured it would be only temporary plus, these are not advised for long-term species..
And he was unfortunately a foxian.
Feixiao met him, As he was hearing the sound of waves to...give him her promise.
An eye for a eye.
Jiaoqiu's mind was filled with something else too.
You.
"General, Can you..tell about her...medical report?"
She hesitated but Jiaoqiu wanted to know everything in full detail.
Feixiao read from the health report, her voice growing heavier with each passing line. She described the extensive damage: deep cuts, wounds that had left marks of immense suffering. Each detail was a testament to the severity of the injuries and the relentless pain endured. The gravity of her words was clear, each one weighed down by her sorrow.
When she reached the section detailing the poison, Feixiao’s voice faltered. The report spoke of the poison’s cruel effect—how it slowly and painfully ravaged the patient’s insides. Feixiao’s eyes filled with unshed tears, her distress palpable as she continued, her voice quaking with the weight of the revelation.
Jiaoqiu's reaction was immediate. His hand went to his head, clutching it as if to steady himself against the crushing realization. The poison’s grim effects had struck him deeply. He looked away, unable to confront the full reality of what Feixiao was revealing.
In the silence that followed, Jiaoqiu asked quietly, his voice almost a whisper, "Did she really take poison too?" The question hung heavily in the air, laden with disbelief and despair. His gaze was distant, lost in a maelstrom of regret and sorrow.
He then turned further away, his expression one of profound self-reproach. His internal struggle was evident, and he questioned in a choked voice, "What kind of man am I?" The question was a desperate plea for understanding, a reflection of his deep-seated remorse over the suffering that had unfolded.
Feixiao's heart ached as she watched Jiaoqiu struggle with the weight of guilt. She took a deep breath and spoke softly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within her.
"It wasn't your fault, Jiaoqiu. None of this is on you." She tried to offer him comfort, to lift the heavy burden he was placing upon himself. Her words, however, seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Jiaoqiu remained silent for a long moment, his hands still cradling his head, eyes closed as though blocking out the reality of the situation. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and filled with weariness. "I… I just need to be alone right now, Feixiao. Please." The words came out strained, each syllable laced with exhaustion, as if he had fought this battle a thousand times within himself.
Feixiao hesitated, torn between leaving him to his thoughts and staying by his side. "We haven't found her yet…" she said quietly, her eyes searching for any sign that he had heard her. "But I know she’s out there… watching, somewhere. Stalking. Always watching."
Unbeknownst to them, you were indeed there, lurking in the shadows, watching the entire exchange unfold. Your gaze remained fixed on Jiaoqiu, your heart caught in the same torment that haunted him. Every word, every movement was etched into your mind as you observed from afar, torn between the urge to reveal yourself and the need to remain hidden.
You kept your distance, carefully avoiding being seen, yet your presence lingered like a specter in the background. Watching. Waiting. Stalking.
You couldn’t stay away any longer. Each step forward, though painful, pulled you closer to him. Even though Jiaoqiu could no longer see, he recognized you instantly—your uneven footsteps, the way you groaned quietly with every step, the sound of your labored breathing. It was as if his senses had adjusted to your presence, like he could feel you coming before you even got close.
"You… Where were you?" His voice was soft, heavy with relief, yet tinged with an unspoken worry.
You hesitated for a moment, standing just a few feet away. The pain in your body was nothing compared to the turmoil inside your heart. "I… I couldn’t be here," you whispered, your voice trembling. You started to turn away, wanting to retreat back into the shadows, but before you could take another step, Jiaoqiu’s voice stopped you.
"I’m glad you’re alive," he said, his voice steady, though laced with a sadness that broke you. "But… I was a mistake." His words came out in a breathless sigh. "I promised to protect you, to take care of you, and now look at me. I’m blind… I can’t do anything for you anymore. I can't even look at you to see if you're alright."
He held his head in his hands, fingers running through his hair in frustration. "If I’m such a mistake… if I’m so ugly in your eyes now…Is that why haven’t you hugged me yet?" His voice cracked on the last few words, a vulnerability in his tone that shook you to your core.
That was all it took to break the dam inside you. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you rushed toward him, wrapping your arms around him from behind. You buried your face into his shoulder, sobbing as you clung to him tightly. "Jiaoqiu… I love you," you cried, your words coming out between broken breaths. "I love you… I always have."
Jiaoqiu froze for a moment, as if stunned by your words, before slowly relaxing into your embrace. His hands reached up to touch yours, holding them gently. Even though he couldn’t see, it felt...connected.
You backed away slowly, your hands slipping from his grasp. The warmth of your touch left him, and Jiaoqiu, sensing the sudden absence, whispered desperately, "Without your touch..." His hand reached out blindly, trying to pull you back toward him, but you stepped farther away.
"No!" you screamed, your voice filled with anguish. "It's because of me you ended up blind!" You held your head in your hands, trembling, overwhelmed by guilt. Every part of you ached, not just from your wounds but from the weight of what you believed you had caused.
"Stop blaming yourself," Jiaoqiu’s voice broke through the air, filled with pain, but there was something firm in his tone. "It’s not your fault."
But his words couldn’t reach you. Your mind was spiraling, consumed by the idea that you had ruined him. "No, no, no," you murmured, rocking slightly as tears streamed down your face. And then, suddenly, an idea formed—a desperate, wild idea. You gasped, clutching your chest.
"Jiaoqiu," you cried out, your voice frantic, almost manic. "There’s still time! You can heal yourself... It's not over yet!" Your eyes widened with a twisted kind of hope. "There's still one more day... one more day before the 20 days are up. I’ll ask Feixiao... I’ll ask her to kill me. If she feeds my soul to you, you’ll live! You’ll be healed... You’ll eat again, see again, heal others again!"
You were smiling now, even as tears continued to flow. The idea seemed like salvation, a way to undo the damage, to give him back everything he had lost. You rambled on, the words spilling out as if they were your last lifeline.
Jiaoqiu remained silent, his face unreadable. His lips parted slightly, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and cutting. "You really are the goddess of betrayal," he said, almost bitterly, shaking his head. "You’d sacrifice yourself without even asking... And you think I’d accept that?"
You froze, staring at him through tear-blurred eyes, not understanding, not comprehending why he was rejecting your plan. "But... you could be whole again," you whispered, almost pleading. "You could—"
"Is that what you think I want?" Jiaoqiu interrupted, turning his face away from you, his expression distant, filled with sorrow. "What did you see when you decided I would want to devour the person I love...?"
Your voice cracked as you asked, painfully, "Why are you doing this?" The confusion in your eyes was unbearable, but the weight of his words lingered heavily in the air. "What do you mean by calling me the goddess of betrayal? Am I really that…?"
He sighed deeply, his face filled with sorrow, but he stood firm. "Yes," he said quietly, almost like a whisper, "you are… but not in the way you think."
"Stop," you pleaded, shaking your head, unable to bear the truth behind his words. "Please… stop."
But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. "How long are you going to keep betraying yourself?" Jiaoqiu’s voice rose, but it wasn’t out of anger—it was pain. "Your feelings, everything you are… you're betraying it all."
His words struck deep, and you staggered back, trembling. "I'm not… I'm just trying to fix things!" you cried out. But Jiaoqiu’s expression softened into something unbearably sad as he stepped closer to you.
"And if you keep doing this…" he paused, his voice thick with emotion, "you're not just betraying yourself… you’re betraying everyone around you."
He closed the distance between you, and his hand reached for yours, even though he couldn’t see. "Do you really want me to live in agony? To know that the last thing I ever saw was you… in a bloodied, broken version of yourself?"
You couldn’t answer. You felt the weight of his words crushing you.
"I would rather be blind," he continued, his voice now softer, full of a resigned tenderness, "and just listen to you—hear your voice, your heart—than live knowing that you died… for me."
His words shattered you. You choked back a sob, realizing how deeply he felt for you, how much he didn’t want to see you gone. You collapsed, your legs giving out beneath you as tears fell harder than ever. All this time, you had thought sacrificing yourself was the answer, but in his eyes, it was the ultimate betrayal. You hadn’t just betrayed him—you had betrayed the love that still existed between you.
Jiaoqiu knelt beside you, reaching blindly for your trembling form. He pulled you into an embrace, resting his head against yours as you cried into his shoulder. "Please… don't leave me," he whispered, the pain in his voice cutting through every other sound. "I don’t need you to heal me, Y/n… I just need you."
Jiaoqiu, holding you close, felt the weight of your despair. His voice, strained and gentle, broke through the turmoil of your thoughts. "Why do you want to die?" he asked, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on your shoulders. "Tell me."
You sobbed, trying to make sense of the pain and guilt that overwhelmed you. "I killed everyone who trusted me," you cried out. "I couldn't save them. I couldn’t be useful. I couldn't be of any help to anyone."
Jiaoqiu’s grip tightened, his breath hitching as he fought against his own rising anguish. "Stop wanting to die," he pleaded softly. "You deserve to live. More than those who tormented you, more than those who hurt you."
Your cries grew more desperate, your voice raw with emotion. "I'm a mistake. Look at yourself—you're in such a worse state because of me. It's all my fault. I made a mistake, and it’s eating me alive."
Jiaoqiu's expression hardened with determination. "No," he said firmly. "You didn’t do anything wrong. This was my fault, not yours."
He pulled you into a tighter embrace, as if trying to shield you from the weight of your guilt. "You need to understand," he said softly, "if you want to pass away, I will respect that decision. But if there is still a part of you that wants to live…"
He paused, his voice breaking as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was tender, full of unspoken promises and shared pain. When he pulled away, his eyes, though blind, seemed to see into the depths of your soul.
"In that case," he whispered, his voice gentle and filled with hope, "will you still consider living? Will you marry me? Let’s have a proper wedding this time. A good one."
Your tears mingled with his, you gently pressed your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. The intensity of your emotions was palpable, and you took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.
"Jiaoqiu," you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion, "if you want to get married, you have to let me take care of you. I need to be there for you, to heal you."
His face a mix of pain and tenderness. "But I might be a chore," he replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite the gravity of the situation.
You couldn’t help but let out a gentle laugh, a sound filled with both sadness and relief. "We’re both stubborn," you said, your voice breaking slightly as you continued, "neither of us wants to accept help because we don’t want to be a burden. But maybe… that’s why we’re perfect for each other."
You leaned in and kissed him tenderly, your lips brushing against his with a mixture of love and sorrow. As you pulled back, you saw his ears perk up, his expression softening as he took in your words.
"Let me take care of you," you whispered, your voice filled with both resolve and affection. "If you let me, we can get married. Let's heal together..."
Jiaoqiu’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both took in the moment. The weight of your shared struggles seemed to lift slightly as you embraced, the two of you finding solace in each other’s presence.
You nuzzled closer to Jiaoqiu, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with nervous joy. "Am I still your wife?"
A small, tender smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Yes," he replied softly, his voice warm and full of affection.
Overwhelmed, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, holding him as if you’d never let go. The love you both shared felt even more profound now, having weathered the storm of suffering, and found each other again.
With a newfound determination, you tried to stand up, eager to move forward—quite literally—with him. But your legs, still weak from all you had endured, betrayed you, and you wobbled. Jiaoqiu instinctively reached out to catch you, but with his sight gone, he too lost his balance. Both of you fell, landing in a gentle, tangled heap on the ground.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, you both started to laugh, soft chuckles at first, then louder, more genuine. It was a release, a shared understanding of how far you'd come, even if the path ahead was still fraught with obstacles.
"We have a long time to practice, don’t we?" you said, your voice filled with lightness despite the gravity of the moment.
Jiaoqiu smiled, nodding slightly. "Yes, we do. But we’ll get there."
You leaned forward, a playful glint in your tear-stained eyes. "There’s nothing that would make me happier than helping you. It’s my turn now, Jiaoqiu." Your words held a tenderness, a love that ran deeper than any trial you had faced.
You caught his hand in yours, guiding his fingers through your touch, your warmth. You stood, determination in every step, and turned to face him. "Trust me," you said, your voice steady, full of conviction.
Jiaoqiu hesitated for only a moment, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. Then, he nodded, his trust in you complete, his heart open.
Slowly, you led him forward, his steps unsure at first, but with each movement, you both found a rhythm. There was no rush. The road ahead was long, but you were walking it together. You smiled, knowing that now you had the time—time to heal, time to love, and time to rebuild a future where you could both finally find peace.
Bailu carefully wrapped bandages around you, her gentle touch contrasted with the sharp pain you felt. Each layer was a reminder of your struggles, but also of your resilience. The bandages covered your neck, arms, and feet, a protective cocoon that made you feel both vulnerable and strong.
Once she finished, you donned your kimono, the fabric soft against your bandaged skin, a symbol of renewal and hope. You glanced at Jiaoqiu, who stood beside you, his expression calm but filled with unspoken worries.
"Shall we both seek the road of love we lost sight of?" you asked, your voice steady and inviting.
His lips curled into a small smile, one that filled your heart with warmth. "Sounds like a plan," he replied, his voice laced with determination.
Taking his hand, you guided him gently, your fingers interlocking like a promise. With each step, you could feel the bond between you strengthening, a thread woven from shared pain and healing.
Together, you made your way out of the hospital, stepping into the world that awaited you. The sun greeted you, its light filtering through the trees, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace.
You walked side by side, you whispered, "No more shadows, only the path ahead." Jiaoqiu nodded, and you could sense the hope in his heart, echoing your own.
together..
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clarisse0o · 4 hours
Text
Camp Wiegman-Part 77
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Saturday, April 2; 1:50 PM - Downtown.
Time is passing. Only one week remains before the holidays. I'm eager to get there. Lucy and I have agreed that I will give my all during these last weeks so that I can relax afterward. It's tough. I'm barely with my friends at school anymore, but I want to be ready for the big day. They know and understand that. Another thing that's hard is that Lucy doesn’t show me any affection at school. Ever since Wiegman found out, she's been very cautious. Sometimes she hugs me in the evening or gives me a kiss or two, but that's it. So, I'm glad it's the weekend. At least now, she doesn't hold back.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asks me.
"Of course," I chuckle. "It's not the first time I've been here."
Today is the second Saturday I'm going to work with Grace at the gallery. She wants to make sure we can work together and that we both enjoy it. Personally, I loved being here last week. It didn't feel like work. Grace has a much more modern style, thanks to street art. Mine is still very classical, so I understand why she said she could teach me a lot. We complement each other in a way. She asked me to come back today, and she'll give me her decision tonight. By the end of the day, I'll know if my future has a chance in this field. I sincerely hope so. It's the only concrete offer I have. I know that if I get my degree, I can find work in administration, but let's just say that’s not what I want.
"True," Lucy replies. "Will you text me when you're done?"
"Like last time, yes. Say hi to everyone for me."
Lucy is going to meet up with her friends at the venue. They need to clear out the last few things before next week. I think they still have a lot to do. I regret not being with them. I enjoy lending a hand, but I have other responsibilities today.
"I won't forget," she says with a smile.
"And tell Ale I'm supporting her with all my strength for tonight."
Lucy laughs, nodding. Leah party is tonight. I sulked about it for a long time. I felt a little guilty for not being there since I haven't been spending much time with them, but I can always count on Lucy to lift my spirits.
"I'll tell her. Now go. You’re going to be late again."
"How about a little kiss first?"
She smiles and leans over to kiss me.
"Have a good day, my love," I say before getting out of the car.
I close the door and walk toward the gallery. I know Lucy won't leave until I’m inside. And that's exactly what happens. I enter the gallery, triggering the little bell hanging on the door. I take the time to close it, and only then do I see my girlfriend's car pulling away. I smile at that but quickly refocus.
"Ah, hey Ona," Grace greets me.
"Hey," I reply.
The first thing she asked me to do last week was to speak informally with her. I must admit it’s a relief. She's young, probably around Lucy’s age. At least I’m sure I won’t mess up. It also makes me feel more comfortable.
"How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
I smile and approach her for a cheek kiss. The gallery she owns is nothing like Mr. Fields'. It's smaller. Much smaller, but I love it. It's very cozy. It's dark, with occasional light accents here and there. I recognize her style from Nyko's paintball artwork.
"You came at the perfect time. I was trying to hang a painting, but it’s up high, and I couldn’t manage alone. Can you help me?"
"Yeah, of course. I’ll just drop my stuff in the back."
"Oops, sorry, poor you," she laughs. "I'm already piling on the work. Go ahead, I’ll wait."
"Oh no, don’t worry," I giggle.
"Meet me in the back."
I nod while taking off my jacket. The gallery is shaped like an "L." It's on a corner, which is lucky. This way, each piece displayed is lit by the large windows. Grace had the entire place renovated, and I must admit it’s brilliant. Passersby can see inside without having to come in. I go behind the counter to reach a back room. There’s about 20 square meters of space here, which serves as a workshop, storage, and even a dressing room. I hang my bag and jacket on the coat rack before joining Grace at the back of the gallery. Now I understand why she needed my help. She’s waiting for me at the top of a stepladder, with a huge canvas on the floor.
"Wow, it's beautiful," I comment.
The painting is a street art piece of the city of Seattle in multicolored hues. I can totally recognize Grace’s style in it. It’s truly stunning.
"Did you make it?" I ask, just to be sure.
"Yeah," she smiles. "I want it to be the centerpiece, but as you can see, it’s quite big."
"Yeah, I can see that," I chuckle. "Hold on, I’ll lift it for you."
No sooner said than done. I lift the painting so she can grab it where she’s standing. I hold it until she manages to hang it from the suspended ceiling using hooks. Unlike the rest of the room, the ceiling is made of white oak beams. It contrasts nicely with the anthracite walls.
"Phew, thanks."
She climbs down the stepladder, and we step back to see how it looks.
"Not bad, huh?"
"It looks great," I reply. "I think the painting’s just a little crooked."
"Yeah, I just noticed that," she giggles. "Can you stay below in case it slips?"
I nod, and we adjust it until it's perfectly straight. Meanwhile, several people have entered the gallery. Most are just curious, but I think some of the paintings catch their eye. Grace told me that most people come back later for a painting that caught their attention. I guess business isn’t doing too bad.
"Have you sold more paintings?" I ask, noticing some empty spots.
"Yeah," she says with a smile. "Can you help me replace them? Then we can get back to the painting you started last week."
"Sounds good to me."
"Not like you have a choice," she teases.
I laugh and shake my head. We head to the storage room to get the new paintings. I’m supposed to stay until closing, but I can tell we’re not going to be idle. That’s fine with me. I prefer this to sitting around doing nothing.
Saturday, April 2; 5:20 PM - Gallery.
"Well, I think it’s time to stop," Grace tells me.
I check the time. It’s almost 5:30. I’m surprised. The time flew by.
"Oh yeah. I’ll text Lucy so she can pick me up."
"Don’t you have your own car?" she asks.
"Not yet, but I think it’s coming soon."
"That would be better, indeed," she smiles.
I text Lucy to let her know I'm done, then I start putting away the tools I used and wash my brushes in the sink. I haven’t finished my painting yet, but I’m sure I’ll have another chance to work on it. Grace’s advice has been really helpful. She has a completely different method than mine, but I appreciate her feedback. Once I’m done, I return to the front where Grace is behind the counter. She managed to sell four paintings this afternoon—and not just any paintings. I think she’s doing pretty well for someone who just started out on her own.
"All done."
"Great," she says. "I promised I’d give you my answer about next year, so here it is," she says, handing me a form.
I pick it up to see what it is. A small smile forms as I realize it’s an application for the Seattle School of Art.
- Does this mean…?
- These two half-days with you were cool. You’re nice, you know how to do good work, and you’ve got talent. That’s all I was asking for.
- Wow, I say, not knowing what else to say.
- I was able to enter one of your pieces into the school's last enrollment competition thanks to my contacts, and you’ve been selected, she tells me.
I’m having trouble understanding. She entered me into a competition without me knowing?
- You…
- Sorry for not asking your permission, but I didn’t have a choice, she giggles, seeing the look on my face.
- It’s no problem.
- You’ve still got a lot of work to improve, Ona, but you really impressed them, so… she shrugs. Welcome, I guess.
Unable to hold back, I hug her. It’s really the least I can do. She just saved my entire future.
- Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I’m so relieved. A huge weight has just been lifted off my shoulders. She giggles at my reaction, but she doesn’t realize what she’s giving me. I’m finally going to be able to live my dream. Just six months ago, I thought this was impossible. All my life, I’ve been told I couldn’t make a living from this, and yet here it is, happening. It feels like a dream. I release my new boss when I hear the doorbell chime. I smile when I see Lucy walk in.
- Well, it seems like there’s good news here.
- Oh yes! I exclaim, handing her the application form.
Lucy looks at it for a moment, then glances between us with a smile forming on her lips.
- Ah, yes, I see now. That’s really amazing. Thank you so much, Grace. Ona can finally relax a bit.
- Oh, it was my pleasure, Grace replies with a small laugh.
I go to Lucy and slip into her arms. She kisses the top of my head while still holding the form.
- Do we need to send this to the school? she asks.
- Uh, it’s better if you bring it back to me. I need to return it as soon as possible to my contact at the school.
- Alright. Well, do you have a little time? We can fill it out now.
- Oh, that would be great, yeah. I’ll get you a pen.
As soon as she leaves for the back, I let out a little squeal of joy. Lucy laughs, holding me tighter.
- Can you believe it!?
- Yes, yes, she giggles. This is really amazing, babe. I’m proud of you.
She kisses me softly. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I can’t believe all of this is happening so fast. Just a few weeks ago, I imagined myself sorting papers at a desk.
- You know what you have to do now, she whispers to me. You absolutely have to pass your exam.
- I’m working on it. I think I’m doing pretty well.
- Yes, that’s true, she smiles. Who would’ve thought you’d get serious one day…
I stick my tongue out at her teasing. Grace comes back with a pen, and Lucy helps me fill out my part. I realize I don’t even know her address, and it’s about to become mine soon. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to move in with her and call it my home too. I already feel at home there, but it’ll be more official. We’ll be there every day, together. Just thinking about it makes me feel strange. The form is easy to fill out. I double-check that I haven’t forgotten anything before copying the information onto the other two forms. I sign them and hand them to my new boss, who smiles mischievously.
- Well, you’ve just signed your death warrant. You’re under my command now, she jokes.
- Oh, there are worse things… I hope, I giggle.
- You’ll have time to form your opinion, Lucy comments. Well, shall we head out now?
- Great idea. I’m heading home as well. My boyfriend is taking me out to dinner tonight.
- Lucky you, I say with a smile. Well then…
I don’t finish my sentence. I’m not really sure what to say. Now that I’ve signed the papers, what’s next? Grace seems to understand my dilemma, as she says:
- I’ll contact you for the next steps. I’ll give you the details of when you start working here and when your classes start too. You’ll probably need to come back to sign a contract.
- No problem. I’m close by, after all.
- Great. Well, have a good evening then.
- Have a good evening too.
I head to the back to grab my things and return to Lucy. We say goodbye to my new boss one last time before heading out. I feel like a ball of energy. Everything is falling into place now that I’ve signed that form.
- What are we doing tonight?
- Well, I may have reserved a table too…
- Really?
I turn to her sharply. She smiles, amused by my reaction.
- Yep. I thought it would be nice to celebrate the good news.
- Oh yeah? And how did you know, huh? I just found out myself.
I smile as she presses me gently against the car when we reach it. Her hands rest softly on my hips. I relax as her lips tease mine.
- You should know I never doubt you…
- Why are you so perfect? I murmur, wrapping my arms around her neck.
- I’m not.
- Yes, you are, at least with me.
- Well, that’s because you make me that way. Because I love you.
I groan and lean in to kiss her, but she pulls back, keeping me just out of reach. I pout. I don’t like it when she denies me a kiss.
- Don’t make that face, she smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I wanted to apologize, because I’m not as perfect as you think. I’m denying you a night with your friends tonight.
I step back at those words. I can see a hint of sadness in her eyes. It’s partly my fault. I guess I made my disappointment a little too clear about it. I smile, caressing her cheek.
- The most important thing is that I’m spending the evening with you, my love.
- Really…? Because—
- You’re the most important person to me. I know you’re anxious about meeting them.
- What—
- Don’t take me for a fool, I interrupt her with an amused tone. I know you hide your fear behind the idea that we have to be discreet at school. But we both know you’re just scared of meeting them as my girlfriend.
Lucy opens her mouth, then closes it. I love when I can leave her speechless. It’s so rare. She sighs, shaking her head, and tries to pull away, but I hold her close. Our chests are pressed together. I can feel her heart beating a little too fast. She doesn’t like being caught off guard, and I get it. I feel the same way when she surprises me.
- You’re right, she whispers. I’m sorry.
- Don’t be. I totally understand. It must not be easy to meet your students as my friends.
- No, not really. I tend to know what everyone thinks of me at school.
She’s not wrong. Even now, everyone asks me how I can spend so much time with Lucy. They can’t see her as the woman standing in front of me right now, and it’s such a shame. I slide my hand under her hair, gently stroking her neck. My touch seems to calm her down.
That’s true, I murmur. But they don’t know my girlfriend. I know it must be scary for you, but it’s important to me. I want people to meet my girlfriend. I want to show you off. To say that you’re mine, like you do.
- Like me, huh?
- Oh yes. Do I need to remind you of the number of hickeys you've given me? You love to claim that I belong to you.
- Yeah, that's true... There's still a bit of me missing on you, though.
I giggle as her lips brush against my neck.
- No, Lucia! I replied, gently pushing her away.
- What, you don't like my marks? she teased.
- Stop it. That'll be the first thing they tease you about.
- Really? I bet they'll mock my commander nickname instead.
- You want to play that game? Alright, let's make a bet then.
- A bet, huh? OK. If I'm right, I get to do whatever I want with you for a whole evening, and vice versa if you're right.
- Hmm... OK, I'm in.
- Good, she said, pecking my lips. Now let's go. We'll be late for my program otherwise.
- Your program, huh? What do you have planned for me this time?
- A romantic evening, she announced as she walked around the car. I had to make up for the event we're not attending tonight.
- You didn't have to, but I like it. I enjoy going out with you.
- Don’t expect anything crazy. We're just going to have dinner, and I thought we could go to the movies afterward, she said once seated behind the wheel.
- I particularly like that plan, I said while fastening my seatbelt.
- Perfect, then.
We exchanged a smile before she drove off. She took me to a restaurant I didn't know, one fancier than the places we usually go to.
- It's a French restaurant, she whispered as a waiter guided us to our table.
- Really? I asked with a small smile. What gave you the idea?
- Nowhere, I just enjoy coming here.
Lucy had everything planned. She really booked a table, and we were lucky enough to get one on the restaurant's veranda. I wondered how long ago she made the reservation.
- Thank you, she said to the waiter.
- You're welcome. Here are the menus. I'll be back to check on you later.
- Thanks, I added as he left.
I looked around. It was particularly beautiful here, and we were lucky that the sky was clear.
- It's beautiful, I whispered while staring at the starry sky.
- I booked last week... when Grace told me she'd be watching you.
I lowered my eyes, mouth slightly agape.
- Y-you knew?
- Well... yeah, she replied mischievously. She just wanted to keep you waiting a bit longer, so you'd keep giving your best today.
She laughed while I sulked. She knew before I did. But how could I hold it against her when I saw where we were now?
- You're lucky I enjoy surprises.
She laughed and intertwined our fingers. I brought them to my lips for a kiss. This moment of relaxation felt particularly good. I felt exhausted from giving so much, but now that I knew where I was headed next year, I was even more motivated to ace my final exam, which was fast approaching. I’d already had a preview with my recent tests, and I hadn’t done too badly. Next week, we have mock exams. I'm looking forward to them because at least I’ll know exactly where I stand before the real ones.
- What are you thinking about?
- A lot of things, I answered with a small smile. How will things go from here?
- Well, as planned. You’ll take your mock exams, then we’ll go on vacation.
- I can't wait, I giggled. I’m so done with all this.
- I bet, but it'll be fine, she reassured me.
- And after that?
- After that? she asked, tilting her head.
- Well, after... after school...
We were interrupted by the waiter who came to take our drink orders. I trusted Lucy and chose the same as her, a non-alcoholic cocktail. We waited for him to leave before I turned back to Lucy. She shrugged.
- After school... well, we’ll go to Barcelona, and then we'll come back here.
- To live at your place, I murmured.
The idea seemed so surreal. Yet, it was what was going to happen in just a few weeks. After all this time.
- Have you changed your mind?
I snapped out of my thoughts at her question. I could see a hint of concern in her eyes.
- What? No, no! I was just thinking... maybe we could make things more official...?
- What do you mean?
- It might be too soon but... I’d like, I don’t know... to co-own the apartment? We’re going to live together, so I want to contribute to the expenses.
Lucy nodded before sinking into her chair, crossing her arms.
- That’s indeed a big step, becoming a co-owner.
- I don’t want us to move. The apartment is great, but... I want to invest in it, you know?
- I wouldn’t do that if I were you.
I opened my mouth, but I closed it when Lucy raised her hand to stop me from arguing.
- I trust us, I know how you feel, but you never know what could happen. There could be complications between us, and I wouldn’t want the apartment to become another relationship issue to deal with.
- I’m not planning on leaving you, I said, pouting.
Lucy laughed and leaned toward me. She grabbed both my hands, pulling them under her chin.
- I know, love, but it’s too soon. Tomorrow, we’ll celebrate two months together. I know we both feel like we’ve been together longer, but it’s only been two months.
- That’s true, I muttered.
- How about we see how living together full-time goes? I don’t think there will be any problems, but it’ll be a big difference from just weekends.
I nodded, feeling a little sulky. I didn’t like how right she was. After all, we were just at the beginning of our relationship, but I craved more. I needed more, I think, but I didn’t dare say it.
- Hey, she murmured.
She lifted my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. I hated facing her gaze. It made me feel so vulnerable. There was a determination in her eyes that sometimes made me wonder how she got to where she was.
- Don’t make that face. We have all the time in the world now, okay? There’s no need to rush. That’s how we’ll crash into a wall.
- Yeah... I mumbled.
I hated that she was right. The last time I rushed, it ended badly. I wanted to do things right, but at the same time, I wanted to speed things up. The waiter returned to bring our drinks and take our order. Since I hadn’t really paid attention to the menu, I agreed to Lucy’s suggestion that we share a dish—cheese platter, actually. She sold me on the idea, saying it was really good, so I accepted. As the waiter left, I still felt uneasy, but Lucy remained unfazed.
- Honey, one day, I’m going to make you my wife. We’ll buy a big house together, and maybe even have kids. I want all of that just as much as you do. Don’t think otherwise.
- I know, Lucia...
I blushed slightly at her words. If she wanted them to affect me, well, it was working. Wife and kids were big words, perfectly expressing our future together.
- So be patient. First and foremost, we need to learn how to live together and build a stable future. It all starts with a good job. Neither of us knows what our work experience will lead to, and it’s good to focus on that before jumping into anything else. Don’t you agree?
I sighed but nodded.
- Yeah, fine, you win.
She chuckled softly.
- Come on, give me a kiss.
I leaned in to give her what she wanted. I could never deny her that.
- Can we enjoy the evening now?
- Yes.
Our cheese platter finally arrived, and I had to admit it was a good choice. Lucy really knew what was good, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.
- I wonder how things are going with Alexia, I mused as we started eating.
- No idea, my girlfriend giggled. But she wasn’t feeling well this afternoon. I had to comfort her.
- You, comforting her? Now I’ve seen everything.
- Well, yeah. I like her, surprisingly.
- That’s good news then, I teased. At least one of my friends you like.
- Oh, stop it, she rolled her eyes. I like Mapi too.
- That wasn’t the case in the beginning.
- We were both jealous, but I think she’s starting to understand where her place is with me.
- Yeah, I think you're right.
I sipped my drink, reflecting on the conversation we had a few weeks ago. Mapi had defended Lucy regarding what she didn’t yet know about Feli. I think she has indeed figured out her place with Lucy, even if she struggled to admit it. After all, she was my only close friend before I came here.
- Thinking about something in particular? Lucy asked, noticing I was lost in thought.
- No, I said, blushing. Just that you're right. She defended you not too long ago.
- Really? About what?
I shrugged. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.
- Something unimportant...
I know I’m a terrible liar, but I didn’t want to ruin our night with negative thoughts. Lucy stayed silent for a moment but eventually nodded.
- Okay, she whispered. You know you can tell me anything, right?
- Of course, I said with a small smile. But it’s nothing important. I just wanted you to know that she defended you, and I was the first one surprised.
- Alright... well, I guess things are changing.
We shared a smile. I knew she realized I wasn’t telling her everything, but I appreciated that she didn’t push. The evening continued without any more unsettling topics.
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thecosmicangel · 2 days
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Make it fun & easy don’t make it a boring method or thing you have to do to get your desires.
Speak to your self as if you had what you want already, “I’m so happy I have xyz” “ I love that xyz” “ ohh I’m so happy and excited I get to do xyz today” tell yourself the story you want to experience. Make it natural to yourself, have a inner conversation with yourself about how you have it already and how life is for you now that you have it, go into as much detail as you want telling yourself everything about your life. Pretend you’re doing a day in my life story time video. It’s like scripting, or visualizing but just speaking it to yourself instead of writing it down or taking the time to visualize just describe it with your words as if you’re telling a story in present tense. Whenever the thought pops out in your head just be like “ ohh yeah I have it already I’m so happy I get to do xyz now”. Go on about your day and tell yourself your new story when it pops out, doesn’t matter if you think of it once a day or every 10 seconds as long as you are thinking as if you had it already. If negative thought appear just be like “no that’s not true, I already have it” and go on a rampage about how you have it and how your life is now that you have it. Flip the negative thoughts 🔄.
- xoxo, the cosmic angel ⭐️🪽
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“I think I like you best when you’re just with me and no one else.”[Pepe Marti x reader]
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Being a college student and having an internship in f2 was not affecting Y/N well lately. She always valudated academic achievement. And she always loved formula 1. She really wanted to get a job in it,so she really cared about her internship. Her life in last months were totally catastrophic,she didnt even remember when she got some free time to herself. Even though she was frustrated from all of this mess,she never complained. Probably because of a certain someone that her eyes would always look for him first in a room.
Pepe.
She immediately smiled just by thinking about him.
He always took care of her in a way no one did before. The first person to help her in every way thats possible,the first person to make her feel welcomed.
Pepe.
Sometimes she would think he may be feeling the same thing as her. But then,she would blink her eyes to see the reality. A whole paperwork for the Manager and a long school work.
She shaked her head to make this thoughts go away. She felt a jacket on her shoulders and turned to see who was putting it on her.
Pepe.
“Are you trying to get sick? It’s freezing!”
He said with his warm smile.
Ah.Yes.
That smile.
Y/N wanted to say to him that she would never feel cold when his smile was so warm like this.
“You ran away from the team again? It’s becoming a bad habit of yours,Marti.”
“I couldn’t help it,they were being dramatic. Plus,I wanted to see you.”
Y/N smiled slightly. Was he really thinking like that?
“You always see me,dummy.”
Pepe shrugged and got closer to her.
“Yes but with bunch of other people. I think I like you best when you’re just with me and no one else.”
Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She forced a chuckle.
“You are only saying that to mess with me.”
“Nope,I’m dead serious. I like your company,Y/N.”
Y/N blushed as she noticed how Pepe was looking at her. His intense and determined eyes were on her,with a look she only saw him doing on the races.
“I like your company as well.”
“As much as I like yours?”
“Yeah. Probably more.”
“Pfft. That’s impossible.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and chuckled with him. Pepe checked out to make sure the jacket was standing still. Y/N then realized that it was his usual jacket and it smelled exactly like him. Was Pepe trying to kill her today?
“Thank you for the jacket by the way. Thats uh really nice of you.”
Pepe laughed.
“Stop being formal to me,we already passed that part months ago.”
“I know,I know. Just a habit.”
Pepe reached out to hold her hand. Y/N’s eyes immediately got locked into his.
“You know,I was thinking of taking you on a date. What would you say to that?”
Y/N was screaming inside as she was still trying to understand what was going on.
“I-uh as a real date?”
“I didn’t say fake did I?”
“And-And not a friendly date?”
“Who the hell goes on a friendly date? I want to be with you,Y/N. Go on a date with me,please?”
Y/N took a deep breath and ignored the way her heart was being.
“I-I will go on a date with you.”
Pepe smiled so bright that Y/N thought it was sun for a second.
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faeriichaii · 1 day
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Hi! I was wondering if you could please write a legolas fix where he has a crush on f!reader!. But here's the thing, she's arwen sister and both arwen and aragorn try to match them both together and at the end they get to confess and all! I had this idea tysm<33
Sunkissed ~ Legolas x F!Elf!Reader
A/N: oh how I missed Legolas <3 I haven’t written anything for him in such a long time that I am so so happy to do a request for him again <3 tbh I think it is so easy for me to write him? Cause idk I picture him like the perfect romance guy?? And idk I always get so soft writing for him haha but omg I hope you enjoy the story!! <33
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 2.0k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le I velethril e-guil nîn ~ You are the Love of my Life ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Le Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ
Summary: You have been in love with the elven prince since quite a time, but never told him about it. Your sister Arwen however, is determined to change the course of your relationship with Legolas.
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The light of the setting sun enveloped the room in a warm orange hue, a perfect start for the upcoming celebration of the night. Aragorn, as well as the rest of the company, arrived in Rivendell a few days ago. However, due to their immense exhaustion, the festivities had to be postponed until today. Sitting in front of your vanity, you listened to Arwen hum while her hands brushed through your hair. You have asked for her help earlier and being your sister, she of course, did not decline your request of braiding your hair. “Are you excited for todays festivities?” You suddenly asked her. Watching her reflection through the mirror, you saw a gentle smile gracing her face. “Of course I am sister. They have finally returned from their long journey and deserve to be celebrated.” “You are especially keen on celebrating Aragorn, aren’t you?” You teased her. A blush dusted her cheeks, as she gave you a light slap on the shoulder.
“Stop it. Don’t try to deny that you aren’t keen on celebrating a special someone yourself.” Arwen uttered while gathering a few strands of your hair. Looking down at your lap, you tried to hide your broad smile from her. Even the thought of Legolas alone made your heart skip a beat. And now he finally returned to Rivendell. “We are just very close friends, sister.” “Yes. Very very close friends indeed.” You scoffed at her. It was a known fact that Legolas and you have been friends since your early childhood days. You remember playing with him in the gardens of Mirkwood and dancing together at celebrations in Rivendell. You also remember how your heart shattered as you watched him chase after Tauriel. And of course you remember, putting Legolas heart back together once more.
One could say you went through a lifetime already, however you still only remained friends. “Yes, friends. Nothing more and nothing less.” Slight bitterness filled your voice at the prospect of never being more than that with the elven prince. Arwen, noticing the tone, gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “You say it like it is a curse to be his friend.” “Well, you do know how I feel towards him, don’t you?” “And you know that you can change the course of your relationship anytime, don’t you?” Her arms wrapped around your shoulders in a gentle hug. “Stop worrying about a rejection that will never happen. Even our father can tell that Legolas harbours more than just friendly feelings for you, sister.” Smiling at her, you squeezed her arms, that were still encircling you. “Arwen, the sun is already setting and you still haven’t even begun to separate the strands.” She let out a huff at your change of topic and let go of you, continuing to brush through your hair. “Dear sister, would you prefer a half up half down braid with pearls?”
After finally finishing up and heading to the festivities with your sister, you quickly looked around the room. “Searching for someone specific (Y/N)?” Aragorn asked, while holding an arm out for Arwen to take. “No, not particularly.” “She is, but she just is too shy to admit it.” You glared at your sister. “Don’t worry, he will be here soon.” “Thank you, Aragorn but I am not worrying about anything or searching for someone or something. Now excuse me, I need to get a cup of wine.” And with that you left the couple alone.
“When are the both of them finally admitting their feelings for each other?” Arwen asked her lover, while he guided her towards the dance floor. “Legolas once openly admitted to me that he does love her, but he is so unsure about what to do. Especially after he got rejected by Tauriel.” A knowing hum left her lips, as she let Aragorns words sink in. “I think we should help them out. Find the right course for their future.” She said, as she twirled in her lovers arms.
Hours passed by and you found yourself staring up at the stars above. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” You spun around at the familiar voice. Your heart skipping a beat as you watched Legolas approach you slowly. His golden hair was perfectly partly braided behind his pointy ears. You remember that he once let you braid it when you were children and how soft it felt. Averting your eyes, you looked back up at the night sky. “It indeed is.” Standing beside you, he let his hands rest on top of the railing. Your fingers almost brushed against each other, sending tingles through your body. “(Y/N) I actually have a little present for you.” Tilting your head, you turned toward him curiously. His warm hand grabbed yours, turned it around and placed something small inside it. Looking down, you saw an iridescent pearl. Taking it between two fingers you examined it carefully. A small was drilled through the small sphere and small delicate details were carved into the surface.
“Legolas, this is so beautiful. Did you make this?” You looked up at the elven prince, who bashfully looked away. “Yes, a dwarven friend showed me how to make one of the- of the beads.” He stumbled upon his words. “Thank you so much, I love it!” Wrapping your arms around his torso, you gave him a hug. His scent filled your nose. Like a fresh spring breeze with a hint of lavender. His arms gently wrapped around you, engulfing you in his warmth. You could have stayed like this forever. In his arms, in his warmth. Pulling away, you smiled up at him, a soft red hue dusting your cheeks. “Would you like to braid the bead into my hair?” You asked him, still holding onto his hands while the bead is nestled between both of your palms. “It would be an honour.” His smile made your heart flutter and fill your body with a comfortable warmth. Turning around, you let the elven prince gather a strand of your hair, braid it and finish it off with the beautiful bead he just gifted you. “It looks beautiful in your hair. Like a star encased in a soft blanket.” You smiled at his words, as you turned back around. Oh, how you wish this night would never end.
The next day you were walking through the gardens alone. You were thinking about the celebrations yesterday. Especially how Legolas treated you and even gifted you a handmade bead. You also vividly remember how the pair of you glided over the dance floor to various melodies. And how his touch ignited your body. You could still even feel the imprints of his fingers on your waist. Do normal friends even act like we do? “You seem quite in thought today (Y/N)” Aragorns voice rung in your ears, ripping you away from your daydream. “Hello Aragorn, how come you are spending time without my sister? I thought the both of you would be inseparable after your return.” The man let out a soft chuckle at your joke. “She found company in someone else today.” You raised an eyebrow at that. With whom was she spending time?
“And to be completely honest with you, I was seeking you out for today.” “How come?” “Let’s take a walk around the gardens, shall we?” He smiled at you, deflecting your question. Nodding at his request, the both of you started to walk along the stone path. “Do you know how Legolas came up with the idea of making this bead?” “He just told me that a friend helped him. So, I guess Gimli shared some of his wisdom with him.” “That is partly the truth.” You looked at Aragorn curiously. “What do you mean by that?” A sigh left the man at your question. “I can’t exactly tell you, because it is not my place to. However, I really wish he would just finally admit to his feelings and confess. The same also goes to you.” You suddenly stopped walking and stared at him; mouth slightly ajar. Never would you have ever guessed that Aragorn would call you out for your feelings towards the elven prince.
“I- I have my reasons Aragorn.” “And so does he. But would you rather constantly long for him than actually courting him?” Embarrassment flooded your system, as you looked at the ground. “I just- I am scared of losing him.” A hand on your shoulder made you look up. Aragorn smiled gently at you. “You won’t lose him (Y/N). I think he might actually be on his way by now to change something about your… situation.” Aragorns eyes focused on something behind you, which made you turn around confused. Arwen was descending the few stone steps with Legolas beside her. “Well, what a pleasant surprise, isn’t it?” She said, weaving her arm through Aragorns. You looked at Legolas, who gave you a smile as a greeting. Returning his gesture, the four of you continued your walk through the garden.
“I am happy to see you are still wearing the bead in your hair.” The elven prince broke the silence between you. “Of course I am. You put so much effort into this lovely gift, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.” “I am glad to hear that.” He slowed his pace down, to create some distance between the both of you and the pair in front of you. “(Y/N) there is something I want to talk about with you.” A shiver went down your spine at his words. Did he find out about my feelings? Will he reject me now? Dread flooded your system, as you stared at him waiting for him to continue talking. “Do you know how I came up with the idea of gifting you this bead?” Legolas asked you. You shook your head no. “It is quite simple. Gimli talked about his customs and how similar they were to ours in some aspects. He also mentioned that they normally craft courting beads for their significant other.” Warmth spread over your face and dusted your cheeks in a rosy colour.
“After that I asked him if he could show me how to craft one. Because I wanted to give one to you.” Suddenly he stopped walking and turned toward you. Grabbing your hand gently into his, he let his thumb stroke soft circles over your skin. Your heart beat quickened, as you looked up into his warm eyes. “I want to court you (Y/N). I want to spend my lifetime with yours. I want to be beside you during cold nights as well as warm days. I want to be with you and I want to be yours (Y/N).” Gasping at his words, you squeezed his hands reassuringly. “I never would have expected to hear such beautiful words from you Legolas. My heart has always longed to be with yours and I would love to enter this courtship with you. I want to spend my lifetime with you. I want to be yours and I would love you to be mine.”
Smiling brightly at you, Legolas let go of your hands and placed his gently on your face. His thumb stroked along your reddened cheek, before he leaned in slightly. Your heartbeat quickened as his face got closer to yours. But before your lips could touch, he stopped. “Le I velethril e-guil nîn.” And with those words he closed the gap between you. His rich taste filled your system, as you tilted your head more to the side and let his lips engulf more of you. He was addicting, like a drug. A sweet drug. He tasted like a sunny spring morning. Like the comfort and warmth of sunrays on your skin. Separating, the both of you looked at each other lovingly. “Le melin.” You said, smiling brightly at him before indulging once more in his lips and his embrace, making sure to treasure every single second of it.
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cazzyf1 · 5 hours
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The other day on my tiktok I created a simple post about how James Hunt is more than just the Playboy persona that is associated with him. This flew over someone's head who commented about how he was a Playboy. I responded explaining the point of the video but instead they doubled down saying that James didn't care about F1 only about partying.
So today I went through some of my books and gathered a load of quotes to show the James Hunt that most people do not know about, the one outside of the Playboy perception. I've posted it on tiktok but figured I'll upload it here as well so the true James Hunt can reach more people and slowly we can dismantle the reputation 'Rush' gave him ❤️
TW: Depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms/addictions
When you think of James Hunt you think of the 'playboy'. The guy who partied, drank lots, took drugs and slept with lots of women. Its true he did that, and a lot but to dismiss him as just that is wrong. He was a good driver, a person who tried his best, a kind man who cared for human & animal rights.
The next few slides I've compiled quotes from a few books and website to show what kind of person he actually was and what he went through in life and that less people will dismiss him as just a Playboy.
James Hunt's first marriage was rocky because James was already very involved in his addictions and he knew he didn't love Susy because he felt that he wasn't capable of love. But he felt responsible for her and wanted to look after her. Here is his own opinion from his book ->
"It was really THE problem. I thought that marriage was what I wanted and needed to give me a nice stable and quiet home life, but in fact it wasn't and the key mistake was mine. I really wanted to go racing on my own, and it wasn't much fun for Susy to sit at home and wait for me all that time. It was also a terrible hassle for her to come racing because race meetings were probably the most relaxing time in my schedule. The rest of the time you tend to be leaping on aeroplanes once a day and that made it even worse because it's bad enough organizing one person to get on an aeroplane. Organizing two gets to be twice as much hassle. It got to the point where it was a problem for Susy to come travelling and a hell of a deal for her to stay at home. It was making life miserable in the extreme for her and since I felt responsible for her it was making me miserable too. So we had agreed to split up and then Richard Burton came along and solved all the problems. We had had an immensely successful marriage because I learnt an awful lot about myself and life and I think Susy did too. We all ended up happy, anyway, which is more than can be said for a lot of marriages" - p14 Against All Odds
Much is said about James Hunt and the ladies he kept company, and without knowing anything about James you might assume the worst, but here's some quotes about what he was actually like with the ladies ->
"I don't usually have sex before a race because I am very definitely concentrating -I find that it is the communication between two people that makes it worth- while, and before a race I am pretty uncommunicative. However, if say I have an hour or so to spare before dinner on the night before a race then I can enjoy the physical release. But I will only do it with someone who is fully understanding" - p15 Against All Odds
"He was always attentive to his partners needs. Indeed much of his satisfaction came from giving pleasure. The only problem, some of them confessed, was that his desire to please often out-stripped their needs" - p264 James Hunt: The Biography
"I was sure he was gay, because he never made a move on me for so long" - p278 Jane Birbeck, long time partner, James Hunt: The Biography
"He missed the actual skirmish - he was inside getting drinks at the bar - but had to be forcibly restrained from going after the policeman who hit his girlfriend" - p284 James Hunt: The Biography
James Hunt had many affairs in his time, because he had become an addict to many things including women (more on this later) He was aware of his and it plagued James that he couldn't control it ->
"One evening she returned to their London home to find James in tears. He was tormented by feelings of guilt caused by his lust for other women. He confessed the full extent of his unfaithfulness, that it was unfair to her and that for her sake they couldn't remain a couple. It wasn't that he was bored with her, but that his desire for other women was insatiable and uncontrollable. He held Jane in his arms and they both wept" - p320
One thing that helped James in his life time was his love for animals especially his pet dog Oscar. Here are some quotes about his love for animals and how far he would go to help protect them ->
"I think in a way Oscar was the child James never had at that stage. He was a remarkable dog, no question, but James thought a lot about animals and their requirements and was very concerned about their needs. He gave Oscar the very best treatment and also was keenly intrested in the welfare of other dogs. He would look at a dog, wonder if it's owner was treating it well and bringing it up properly and if the dog was getting everything out of life that it could" - p281
"Before he came to know James better, the journalist Nigel Roebuck was pleasantly surprised by an incident involvinged stray dog. It was late in the evening after a Grand Prix and tha teams were packing up to leave when James, while talking to Roebuck, saw the dog wandering around the paddock, shiver-ing and obviously very hungry. Roebuck, also sensitive to the needs of an animal in distress, went with James to several of the team motorhomes where they got food and fed the dog. But that wasn't the end of it as far as James was concerned. He insisted that they should take the dog up to the race control centre.
Roebuck: 'He took the dog in there and would not leave until he was sure it would be looked after. James actually made this official sign a piece of paper saying he would take care of the dog and see that it was housed and properly cared for. I was very impressed with this. James was probably one of only a handful of people on this entire planet who would even give that sort of thing a second thought." - p281
"He also thought the wild animals residing on his estate should be left alone. If vermin had to be controlled it should be done in the most humane way possible, and he strongly dissaproved of blood sports. The very thought of fox hunting he found horrible and he vowed not to allow it on his property" - p308
James was also incredibly caring towards the young people in his life such as his sons and his younger siblings. Here’s an extract from his first GF about James and his siblings ->
".. the way he expressed his concern for the emotional youngest members of his family:
He really enjoyed looking after them, and just seeing the way the behaved with his little brothers and sisters you knew was instinctive in him. He was always going to be a good father.
One evening he invited her home where he was babysitting Jo Jo, Dave and Tim. When James had tucked them in he left Ping to read them a bedtime story. When Ping came downstairs James asked her if she had helped them say their prayers. When I said no, James said: "Right. You've missed out hugely there. Come on, we'd better go and do it." So they did. His attitude was that he was taught to do that by his parents and it simply had to be done.'
But he also practised what he preached, and he believed in the power of prayer. In the troubled years to come James would pray to God for strength and help, and he eventually passed on the bedtime prayer ritual to his own two boys, to whom he became completely devoted.
During his time with Ping he had talked about having children, and she thinks fatherhood earlier in his life would have prevented James from sinking into his period of decadence.
I felt so sorry for him then because I knew underneath it wasn't the real James doing this. I think he was trying to make life happy, the wrong way. If he had settled down earlier, had a more normal home life with children of his own when he was younger, one could have seen a totally different James.' - p26
James Hunt cared for human rights especially taking a stand against the Apartheids in South Africa. The Apartheids in short was a system of racial segregation. In protest most sports were not going to South Africa but Formula One still was, and James Hunt made it clear his thoughts
->
“We were once covering the South African Grand Prix during the days of apartheid. All of a sudden, and for no particular reason, he launched into an attack on apartheid.
“It was nothing to do with the Grand Prix, nor would it do British-South African relations any good. Our producer pushed a piece of paper across saying: ‘Talk about the race!’
“And then James blurted out on air: ‘Thank God we’re not actually there!”
But simply calling out Apartheid on the air wasn’t enough for Hunt. He sought to have his race commentaries blocked from being broadcast in South Africa, but was unsuccessful.
When that didn’t work, he instead — and secretly — gave financial support from his income as a race broadcaster to groups struggling to end Apartheid in South Africa."
"His deeply compassionate and loving nature was something that, unfortunately, wasn't adequately conveyed to the public, who only ever heard about the sensational side of James Hunt" - p282 John Watson
As mentioned earlier James Hunt was an addict. His playboy lifestyle was his addictions and this is all rooted back to the fact that James Hunt had depression which grew stronger and stronger. He relied on his additions to get rid of his depression which meant he kept doing more and more. Here are some quotes about his struggle with it and eventually how he overcame it ->
"At home James became increasingly introverted, uncommunicative and reclusive. He gave up golf and spent more and more of his time in the aviary tending his budgies. While the parties continued he would often leave the guests to Sarah and closet himself in the aviary for hours on end.
It became obvious that James was very troubled, but only Sarah and his closest friends knew the full extent of the anguish and despair James suffered during his bouts with what he called his 'dippers'.
Black dog' was the term Winston Churchill used for the recurring 'depressions which afflicted him throughout his life. Bubbles Horsley thinks James was 'born with a "black dog" on his shoulder. His racing pushed the "dog" away far enough so that it was no longer visible. But underneath that wonderful joie de vivre, the laughter and enjoying life, he was given to black moods. He was fearful of them and maybe it was that fear that drove him on. Perhaps without it he would never have been World Champion.
'And I think after the initial "honeymoon" of retirement from racing the black dog came and sat on his shoulder and wouldnt go away. So he became more fearful and sought distraction in various ways, through sex and drink and drugs and rock and roll, as it were." - p323
"At home Sarah watched her husband's condition worsen and desperately sought to help him. She thought his depressiond might partly be due to a chemical imbalance that James was born with, a theory that James explored himself. Then, too, to keep his dippers at bay he consumed too much alcohol and marijuana, both of which can temporarily bring relief but over the long term on have depressive effects.
Like others, Sarah felt that another reason for his 'dippers' might have been because he cut off his emotions early in his life and never learned how to open up to people, or to need them. He was essentially a lonely man and his inability to form close relationships made him despair. His depressions further deadened his feelings, and when he was unable to respond emotionally to marriage and children he grew progressively more despondent.
Sarah: 'He was at war with himself. His depressions became Intolerable and towards the end he stopped trying to fight them coming on because he knew they would take over for two days or week. His face would go black and he would take to his bed and stay there, even on Christmas Day. He'd gone to bed two days beforehand and we had Christmas stockings for the boys. I said, Come on, Beast, the boys are waiting." And he said, "Beast, i can't do it." And he was crying" - p333
"When James felt a "dipper" coming on he would go on two- or three-day benders, mostly drinking vodka. He would just keep going and going, which was always a bit terrifying, and after these deep, dark blank days he would suffer real self-loathing. He could forget his trouble with drink, but it always came back.
For many years trying to get rid of his depression was his major concern, which is why he got the budgerigars. He thought it would be such a huge amount of effort that it would distract him and they became an obsession rather than a hobby. He would sit in the aviary for hours, but he would come back still in the grip of gloom. And for a long time he was so down it was very hard to even converse with him." - p326
"He tried different treatments acupuncture, Chinese herbal medicine and looked into every possible theory. He went to different healers, therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, the lot, to try and find the root of his depression. And in the end he cracked it" - p337
"He began to become more diet-conscious and to eat healthy foods. He also consumed information, in books and magazines, on overcoming addictions, and sought more professional help.
He knew he should stop smoking cigarettes and reduce his marijuana consumption, and he told some friends he thought he might be an alcoholic. He worried that his need for women was another form of addiction and feared he might contract AIDS and infect someone else.
John Hogan: 'So he stopped it all. Straightened himself out by absolute willpower. The strength of character of the man enabled him to get out of it. He cut out the cigarettes, the dope and drugs. the booze and the womanising and his sense of priorities became more well-balanced.' - p338
As he started healing himself of his addictions he became serious about F1 again. He always cared for the sport, doing everything he could to race when he was younger and now though he was retired he still commentated and took part in other ways to stay close to the sport ->
"James became serious about strengthening his position in the media side of Formula 1 racing. He took on an internationally syndicated newspaper column and spent many hours gathering information for it. Working with a journalist he applied himself conscientiously to making sure that every word was written to his satisfaction" - p338
James started to heal his relationships as well, becoming an amazing parent to his two boys and finally meeting a woman who helped him feel loved and be able to love after so long of not being able to ->
"The boys were real handfuls to look after but he was awfully good with them and he really fathered and mothered them extremely well. He was always up early in the morning cooking their breakfast and then the four of us would go off salmon fishing. James would fish properly and I would fool around fishing with the youngsters. And then in the evening we used to settle down and he would tell them stories." - p343
A letter James sent to his girlfriend Helen:
"I went to the parents' 50th in a totally negative frame of mind, feeling very much an outsider and wanting the floor to swallow me up. As the day went on, although I remained 'out- side', I could see and feel lots of generous, undemanding love around me. Something changed for me there with my family. Everyone was exuding love and I saw the wonder of it and want to be part of it, but firstly with you.
I realise now that the feeling of not being loved as a child made me close up to any incoming love projected onto me. I do see that I cannot live on without love. You brought it home to me when you pointed out how well I'm doing with the boys. Well I have had to work at that and I've got better at it and I have to do it with you. You are the girl of my dreams. Without you I have no future. I want to make you happy and continue to do so until I die.
All my love for the love of my life,
James"
- p350
Finally James was happy. He was healed from his addictions, in a healthy relationship, had two lovely sons and a job he loved. And best of all he was able to be open with Helen ->
"James confessed to Helen that he was unable to be faithful to anyone in the past because sex was for him just another addiction and he needed women to get his highs. He disliked social gatherings and only had parties or went to them to pick up women. Helen was willing to forgive and forget what went on before, but told him she wouldn't tolerate it in their relationship and he agreed to be faithful to her." - p350
Helen went away on a girls holiday before her and James were going to start trying for children. James proposed to her over the phone on the holiday to which she said yes. But she would never see her finance because he passed away from a heart attack. Unfortunately the previous life he lead caught up to him.
Thank you for reading all of this and I hope you now know more about James Hunt than you already did! It's sad that James is best known now for his unhealthy coping mechanisms for his depression, especially with the film 'Rush' romanticising it. But even if just one person reads all of this it means one more person knows the truth of James Hunt and that makes it worth it ❤️
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The Space Between Sounds
Chapter 4: Finding A Place
SYNOPSIS: After a silent week at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, someone finally reaches out and invites you to participate with everyone. Are they just being pitying or are you really going to find your place?
WC: 2.8K
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You were sitting alone at lunch today, as usual, and you had noticed that Tired Guy was observing you. You had no idea why, he was probably just being judgmental or something but you couldn’t quite convince yourself that was the case. He looked almost sad for you so you assumed he was just pitying you.
But your assumptions were quickly proved wrong today.
A few bites into your meal, he came over and sat down across from you with a small smile in greeting. He pulled out a yellow notepad and pencil before writing something down and turning it around for you to see.
—Hey! You know you don’t have to sit alone. You’re always welcome to come join us if you want to. Just tell us how you need to communicate and we can do that. We did it with Toge so that’s not a problem at all. Want you to feel like you fit in and everything. And if it’s any consolation, I struggled to fit in at first but they’re all really good people/panda—
You looked at the message a little shocked. You were not used to people taking the time figure out how to communicate with you, let alone inviting you to participate with them. You picked up the pencil and wrote back, hand a little shaky in shock.
—Thank you. I really appreciate that. Kinda used to not fitting in anywhere tbh. Thing is, I can speak, I just don’t sound normal and hate talking—
—We don’t care if you think you sound weird. Toge only talks in onigiri ingredients so you definitely won’t be alone in the unique communication situation—
—I’ll manage. But thank you for including me. I kinda don’t know anyone’s name still since I struggle with new words—
—I’m Yuta. Panda is pretty self explanatory. I told you about Toge and then that’s Maki. She’s a bit intimidating but nice once you get to know her—
—It’s nice to officially meet you. Sorry it took so long. I’ll come sit with you guys—
He nods and smiles at you before leading you over to the table everyone else was sitting at. He gestures for you to take a seat and you end up between him and Blond Guy— Toge, that’s his name.
Picking up on the fact that you knew nothing about anyone, Yuta says something to the group that you don’t quite catch before he hands the notepad to Panda.
He takes a second and writes something down before handing you the notepad back. In his, interesting, handwriting is a proper introduction and an explanation of his cursed technique. Rather the fact he’s a cursed corpse.
After you read, Toge gestures for you to hand him the notepad and does the same. Cursed speech is his technique and it makes sense as to why he covers his mouth. You hadn’t noticed before since you sat alone during meals but he has cursed speech marks, a snake and fangs seal as he explained, on his cheeks and tongue along with having actual fangs which you found pretty cool.
Maki goes next and explains she can’t use cursed energy which you find interesting. Could you potentially give her some and teach her to use it? You had tried with Mari but it didn’t work so you weren’t too hopeful and didn’t bring it up.
Yuta went last and explained his curse, Rika, and his newfound technique— copy. He rambled a bit on the paper and you figured you might be able to help him control cursed energy if he wanted your help that is. He seems pretty damn competent with it already.
He requests you introduce yourself as well since Gojo had apparently not done a good introduction for you and they also had no idea what your cursed technique was. You figured this would be a good time to explain that, while you were touched by the gesture of using the notepad, you could get by without it. So needless to say, you wrote for quite a bit.
—Hey, I’m Y/N. Obvs I’m deaf but I actually can hear cursed energy. Sounds like how electricity feels if that makes sense. My technique is called Energy Flux and along with hearing cursed energy, I can manipulate it. Give it, take it, move it around, stuff like that. But there’s some stuff that’s important about me you should know. I can usually hear you guys coming up behind me because of your energy and stuff but it’s really loud around here and I’m still getting used to it so you’re welcome to tap my shoulder to get my attention if you need. You all sound different so I’m figuring it out. We don’t have to use the notepad the whole time since I can read lips but new terms and names are hard for me at first. So that’s why I had no idea who you guys were until now. But let me know if you have any questions about me and being deaf and stuff. I don’t get offended about it so you’re welcome to ask anything.—
Everyone reads your message and nods, letting you know they understand and will ask when they need. Toge notes the two of you will probably need to keep writing or typing since you don’t know his onigiri language and that he prefers it anyway since his language doesn’t exactly convey much.
***************************************************
Today at lunch, Y/N was sitting alone again, as she had done all week, and I watched Yuta’s mind race. I knew what he was thinking so I nudged him and nodded my head toward Y/N.
He gave me an appreciative smile before digging through his bag for a notepad and pencil. I heard him take a deep breath before going over and sitting down across from Y/N.
Obviously I wasn’t privy to their written conversation but a few minutes later, to my delight, Y/N followed him over to our table. I scooted over on the bench so she could sit between Yuta and I. She was clearly comfortable with him so I hoped she’d be okay with me too.
Yuta explained that she didn’t even catch our names during introductions last week and that we should do a proper introduction. We all took turns writing on the notepad and passing it around.
Y/N’s turn to introduce herself came around and I was actually a bit excited to get to know her. Figure out how she talked in a sense— what she was like.
She handed me the notepad after writing down a good bit of information and I scanned the page. The first thing I noticed was her handwriting. I really liked it and it was a nice personification of how she would sound if she spoke. It gave her tone and emotion that normally wasn’t present with written words.
She explained her technique which I thought was really cool. She could hear cursed energy? That was, well, unheard of. Not only could she hear it but she could manipulate it too. I wondered what exactly she could do with that.
She said we were welcome to ask any questions and after a few basics about how to communicate with her that Panda and Yuta asked, I scribbled down a question.
—What do I sound like?—
She smiles and takes the notepad back, writing down her answer.
—Like a humming noise. It’s not low like a bass speaker but more like a machine. Soft and not annoying. Kinda nice actually. You’re not as loud as Yuta but you’re louder than Panda. He sounds like a cat purring. Yuta sounds like a storm. Crackly, buzzy, the most like electricity. Maki is a quiet buzz but when she gets angry she sounds like electricity too.—
I chuckled at her response and was honestly happy that I didn’t sound annoying to her. I liked that she seemingly liked how I sounded the most. Based on her description, everyone else sounded kinda annoying except maybe Panda. I loved that he sounded like a purring cat— I was definitely going to give him shit for that.
I loved finally getting a little glimpse into who Y/N was and I really liked her personality and seeming resilience. She was doing her best to make the most of her situation and while clearly frustrating, she was still upbeat and kind to us.
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You have a good time with everyone at lunch and after going back to the dorms to change into your training outfit, meet up with them in the arena. They’re all talking together when you arrive and you walk up to join, your notes app pulled up on your phone so you can communicate with Toge.
They all greet you and Maki indicates to you that she has a question for you.
“So, theoretically, can you give someone or a weapon cursed energy?” She asks, placing a hand on her hip.
You nod and smile, not expecting someone to be that interested in your technique.
“Show me.” She requests simply, brows raised.
You give her a thumbs up and everyone takes a few steps back, not knowing what to expect. To take or give cursed energy, you have to make contact with the target entity. You can still repel, amplify and manipulate the energy otherwise without physical contact. It’s just that the transfer process is much faster and safe for you this way.
That being said, you simply extend you hand out to her and she gives you an odd expression. You glance from her, to your open palm and back to indicate to her to hold your hand.
She furrows her brows a bit as if she was skeptical of the experience but places her palm face down on top of yours.
You already know she can’t use cursed energy, you can hear her or rather, she’s almost silent, so you channel a very small amount into her hand. To you, cursed energy feels and sounds like electricity, buzzing and slightly tingly and you don’t want to freak her out.
She flinches a bit at the new feeling, her eyes widening as she feels it move through her per your direction. You donate a small amount of your energy to her and once completely transferred, you drop your hand out from underneath hers.
She looks down at her hand, turning her palm up and making fist a couple times before she gives you a genuinely grateful smile. You then point to her polearm lying in the grass next to her and raise your brows. She picks it up and hands it to you, and upon touching it, you feel the energy flowing through it. It is already extremely powerful on it’s own, clearly compensating for her lack of cursed energy so you don’t tamper with it and quickly hand it back.
Training goes by faster than you could have thought and on your way back to the dorms, you reflect on your interactions earlier.
Sure everyone was nice to you which was surprising but welcome but were they just doing it out of obligation? Were they just being nice out of pity? It didn’t quite seem like it, Toge and Yuta being the most genuine with you. Maki was a little more closed off and Panda was hard to understand but was clearly trying to cheer you up and lighten the mood.
Maybe they weren’t being fake.
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Y/N seemingly had a good time at lunch and didn’t struggle as much during training today so I figured it would be a good time to invite her to hang out with us again. Dinner would probably be a good, casual, no pressure opportunity for her to join.
I wanted her to continue to feel included and not like lunch was a one time thing. Plus I liked hanging out with her so I pulled out my phone and typed up a message to her.
Toge walks up next to you, snapping you out of your thoughts, and hands you his phone with a message typed up in his notes app.
—Wanna have dinner with us at 7?—
You smile and nod as you hand him his phone back and he accepts, smiling back.
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You showered, changed, and hung out in your room until seven rolled around. You walked down the hallway to the kitchen to discover everyone already there, Toge and Yuta cooking something that smelled really good while Panda and Maki sat at the table, chatting.
They all greeted you in some form, smiles and waves once more, and Panda gestured for you to join him and Maki at the table. You sat across from the pair and Panda said something that was clearly directed at you. But you still couldn’t read his lips yet, or snout rather, so you furrowed your brows and pointed to your mouth as you shook your head.
“You can’t read his words?” Maki asks, picking up on your confusion.
You nod, happy someone understood. You pulled out your phone and typed to the pair.
—I’ll pick it up eventually so don’t worry. I’ve just never exactly talked to a panda before—
You watch the pair chuckle at your message and Panda nodded to acknowledge you. He said something again and you picked up on an ‘okay’ assuming he was telling you it was okay and that he’d be patient.
Maki looked up over your shoulder as you heard someone come up behind you. You turned to see Toge sit down next to you, setting a plate of yakitori in front of you. You flashed him a grateful smile that he reciprocated and, after Yuta served Panda, Maki and himself, the five of you dug in.
The food was absolutely delicious and you tapped the table between you and Toge to get his attention. He looks over at you and you point to the plate before giving him a thumbs up. He gives you a thumbs up back and elbows Yuta who is on the other side of him, pointing to you, his plate and giving him a thumbs up.
Yuta peers around him. “Glad you like it.”
Everyone diligently includes you in the conversation and as delighted as you were to be accepted, you knew you were only slowing it down. Toge noticed your change in demeanor and typed to you.
—What’s wrong?—
—I appreciate being included but I know I’m just hindering the conversation—
He vigorously shakes his head no before typing back.
—You’re definitely not. Promise. We want you to participate so we can get to know you and learn your gestures and stuff—
You smile, a bit sadly, but accept and continue answering questions and typing to everyone until you finished eating. After you cleaned up dinner the five of you migrated into the living room to continue your conversation.
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In the middle of dinner, Y/N’s expression and body language suddenly changed. She looked sad and upset with something I couldn’t quite tell. No one else seemed to notice so I did what I would have wanted and typed up a quick message to ask if she was okay. For all I knew she could just be lost in thought but I got the feeling something else was wrong.
I tried to hide my sad expression after she answered my question.
She felt like she was being a burden. And I knew exactly how that felt. The two of us have unique communication needs and while I knew everyone here didn’t mind adapting, I understood why she felt that way.
I made sure she knew she wasn’t hindering the conversation in the slightest. She was actually contributing quite a lot to it and everyone was having a particularly good time tonight. Maki was more involved, Panda was a bit crazier and Yuta was more relaxed. She was helping for sure.
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In the living room, Toge sat next to you on the smaller couch and you were more comfortable with his presence than you thought you would be. He seemed to understand you in a different way. Quietly. Intently.
Whatever it was about his presence was comforting in a way and you found yourself relaxing into the couch and social situation more fluidly and easily than you had ever done before.
Usually you were pretty guarded when it came to sharing details about yourself aside from surface level explanations about your deafness and the like. But the group had really put in an effort to include you and you could tell they were being genuine. Not pitying.
As you all settled into the living room, the conversation drifted to topics like favorite movies and embarrassing childhood stories. You found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, and when it came time to share something about yourself, you hesitated for a second before revealing a small detail about your life before Jujutsu Tech. The group listened intently, their reactions kind and encouraging, and for the first time, you felt a glimmer of belonging.
You slowly opened up to them some, still a bit guarded because of past experiences but you could tell they all meant well so you revealed a few little pieces of yourself. Maybe you had found another little band of misfits.
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