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mournings-stars · 2 months

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Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>

Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.

Gender neutral reader pls

I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol

If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^

Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!

okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like

you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime

during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you

i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)

luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you

i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more

“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe

you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin

“you’d better hide, little bird”

and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself

he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street

it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place

maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door

of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)

“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen

“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal

your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there

i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go

vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go

that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection

you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice

i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you

vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often

that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room

usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease

it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you

of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them

it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”

i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)

anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here

so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this

you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone

in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back

but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)

i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)

but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)

i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option

i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely

still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam

you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh

so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building

you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door

you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething

even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you

i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home

obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you

if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back

OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin lute

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lexisecretaccx · 1 month

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High School Sweethearts pt.1 - Chris Sturniolo

PT2, PT3, PT4, PT5, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, PT10, ( rest of the parts on my Masterlist)

A/n: This is gonna be a series but PLSPLS bear with me bc I am struggling in school right now! This series reminds me of the K-12 Album tbf lol🤍🎀

(Chris sturniolo x Fem reader, skater Chris, nothing much atm, maybe a bit suggestive in a dream but not much else tbh.)

The bell rings, causing me to lift my head swiftly. I look around at the class and the other students are packing up so I copy, but just as I lean down to place my pencil case into my bag, a book slams on my desk making me jump out of my skin.

“You aren’t going anywhere y/n. Sleeping in class again?” My teacher Mr Rockwell looks down at me, his face cold and stern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night and..” he picks the book up off the desk, “no excuses. Good thing this is the last period because you can stay behind for detention. An hour and a half.” I sigh as he walks away before picking up a sheet of paper and placing it on my desk.

I place my face into my hands out of embarrassment, I’ve never had detention with this teacher before, I’m usually alert in his classes. “No more sleeping!” Mr Rockwell slightly yells from across the classroom and I pick up my pen before sighing and studying the page. Algebra. Math has never been my strong suit.

Mine and the teachers heads both shoot to the door as it opens with a squeak, a brunette boy walks into the room and up to the teachers desk, “You’re late again. Once more and there will be serious issues.” I hear Mr Rockwell say, before the boy replies “yeah sorry, see my brother had to..” “Excuses again! What’s the matter with the students in my class.” He mutters, leaning past the brunette to look at me.

My face flushes with embarrassment as the boy turns to look at me, he mustn’t have noticed there was anyone else in the class, I am seated right at the back to be fair. He smiles at me softly, before turning back to the teacher. I swear I recognised him, I think he was one of the triplets in our grade.

“Sit down.” Mr Rockwell mutters, handing the boy the same piece of paper he gave me. To my surprise the boy sat right next to me, probably to try copy me. “If you’re trying to copy me, you’re out of luck because I haven’t got a clue either.” I whisper and I look over to the boy, his eyes studying my face. “Do I know you?” He whispers back.

“I don’t know.. do you?” I ask in confusion because I haven’t ever spoken to him or his brothers, “yeah you’re the girl who sits at the front in science.” He chuckles and looks at the teacher at the front of the class and then back at me.I’m surprised he knows who I am, I didn’t know he was in my class.

“Oh yeah..” I laughed lightly. I look back down at my paper to try and make some sense of it, and I fail at that.

The teacher stands up and his chair squeaks against the floor, causing me and the boy to jump as we look up. “I need to go.. grab something from one of the other classrooms I’ll be 10 minutes minimum.” He spoke monotonously and walked out the class. I immediately look to the boy and he has the same confused expression on his face as I do.

“What was that about?” He looks to me for an answer, “I dont know but at least I don’t have him staring me down anymore,” I laugh, “what’s your name? Sorry I dont remember it.” I feel guilty, due to the fact that he knows who I am, I mean I know who he is but not enough to know his name, does he even know mine?

“Oh uh im Chris, and don’t stress it y/n u won’t be forgetting my name soon enough.” He smirks to me before his eyes focus on the equations in front of him. He knows my name. “What do you mean by that?” I laugh softly and he shrugs.

“Maybe you’ll remember me as the boy who stole the answers for this algae-bra shit.” He stands up whilst looking at me, “it’s Algebra, Chris, and you aren’t stealing answers, what if he comes back?”

“Chill, I’ll take the blame for it anyway.” He opens the drawer in the teachers desk and ruffles through some paper until he smiles and grabs a piece of paper, closes the drawer and walks back over to me. “You thief.” I joke with him as he sits back down and scoots his desk closer to me so we can share the paper.

We finish up with the paper and the teacher still hasn’t returned, Chris puts the paper back into his desk and we try to wait it out for the 25 minutes we have left. “Can we just leave now?” He rolls his eyes and taps his pen on the desk. “I wish but no. What if he comes back and we’re gone?” I watch him as he stops tapping his pen and leans down to his bag.

“Live a little y/n. He’s been gone for most this detention, it’s his fault if you leave early.” He packs his things into his backpack. “Plus I’ll write a note on his board and let him know we left ‘at the right time’” he does finger quotations and smirks, “fine.” I sigh.

He hops out his seat and grabs both our papers and places them on the desk, as I pack my things away. He writes on the board ‘sorry for being in detention or whatever but we did the work (it’s on ur desk) and left, love u teach xx - Chris’ “there.” He smiles proudly and I roll my eyes “you’re not funny.” I stand up.

We both sneak out the classroom and Chris leads me the way. We hear voices coming from a storage cupboard and he looks back at me before we go to move forward again but before we can start moving, the door swings open and a girl walks out, she looked about late 20s or something, she went down the hallway in the direction we were headed.

Chris turns to me and raises one of his eyebrows as if to say ‘what the fuck was she doing in there’ . About a minute later someone else stumbles out of the cupboard, my mouth drops when I realise it’s Mr Rockwell. He walks down the corridor towards his class which means he was gonna pass me and Chris. Chris pulls me behind a locker and my back is pressed right up against him.

Mr Rockwell passes us, and thankfully doesn’t see us. I let out a sigh of relief and Chris grabs my arm before we are running down the corridors and out the double doors. Chris leans against the brick wall, breathing heavily.

“I’m never doing that again.” I breath as I smile at him, “You know we will,” he smirks at me before checking his phone. “Shit I was supposed to be home like half hour ago I should go.” “But detention doesn’t end for what.. another like 10/15 minutes? Why would you need to be home before it ends?” I ask tilting my head slightly as he smiles and looks at his feet.

“Your detention doesn’t end for another 10/15 minutes, mine ended like 45 mins ago.” He looked at me, “what, why didn’t you leave when you should’ve then?” I am really confused now. “Didn’t want to leave you on your own.” He shrugged before grabbing a skateboard off of a rack. “Oh thanks.” I smile “You skate?” I try to hide my blush from his comment and bring my focus to his board.

“Uh yeah, do you?” He smiles down at me due to our height difference, “no but I tried once and I got scared.” I laugh, he laughs too before dropping his board onto the ground, “I’ll teach you sometime.” He starts to skate away, “see ya y/n!”.

I get home and throw my notebook down onto my desk, one of my pages is folded over, I hate when that happens. I turn to the page to unfold the corner and there’s writing on the page ‘know you would want this - Chris’ below that was his phone number. I smile to myself at his slightly messy handwriting and pick up my phone.

I add his number to my contacts and open up imessage. ‘How did you write that in my book without me noticing😂’ I press send. He replies with ‘gotta keep an eye on your stuff y/n😉’ we text back and forth for a bit before I go to sleep.

“You’re so pretty y/n.” I smile as he leans over me and smirks, “can I?” His hand plays with the seam on my panties. “Yes.. please.” He starts to kiss my neck, “fuck Chris…”

I sit up quickly, breathing fast. “What the fuck.” I mumble to myself before wiping my eyes and laying back down. Come on y/n you barely knew the boy before today and now you’re dreaming of him? I sigh heavily.

I’m never telling anyone about that.. ever..

A/n: omds I kinda like this.. I’m gonna try to make it a series but I won’t be able to update frequently! I love this storyline tho and I know where I’m going with this so bear with me!

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard

—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt #chris

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postmodernbeliever · 3 days

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little darling- fox mulder x female reader (SMUT OH MY GOD…)

fox mulder knows how badly you want to be touched, to be taken care of, and he is obsessed with being the first and only guy to do it.

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my ao3 | word count: 6,071

content tags: smut, smut so good in my brain it came out poetic?, loss of virginity, virginity kink, dom fox mulder, protective gentle extremely horny fox mulder, embarrassment, sexual fantasy, plus size reader gets sooooo much love, im blushing just posting this aaaaaaa, oh some religious bits bc catholic girls are freaky and also his sex is THAT good, cross-posted on ao3

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fox knew it was wrong, and he didn’t care. he knew how he thought about you, how he touched you in his mind, how he wanted to possess you was culpable- but then again, how shameful could it truly be? how bad was it to want to take care of you, to teach you the right way, to want to show you how good love is supposed to feel? well, maybe it wasn’t completely pure, because he nearly came untouched just thinking about you sometimes, but he just couldn’t help himself. he wanted to. he wanted to be the one you chose to give yourself to. the only one.

it was always in the most mundane moments, like this one, that he needed it most, which played into his guilt. soft moments where you were unaware of what you were saying or doing, clueless as to how you were making him feel. now, as you sat watching the sex scene from basic instinct while fox pretended to be filling out a case file at his desk, was one of those moments. you squirmed in your seat with a sweet blush on your cheeks, watching the slight caricature of sharon stone on top of michael douglas, pupils blown wide and trying to hide your interest. fox was doing his best not to move a muscle, but he felt like a vein would pop if he didn’t turn around to look at you. his stomach was twisting itself into hot, trembling knots just wondering what the scene was doing to you.

you’ve been dating him for a few months now, and upon meeting him, you fell in love in a way you still didn’t understand. he did, too. he idolizes you, he holds you up above everyone else to his detriment. after the first few dates, you told him that you wanted to take the physical aspects of the relationship slow because you had personal obstacles to overcome; he promised to do so, because when you look at him, his entire world glows, and he refused to jeopardize that heaven you unraveled. but he’s learned a lot about you since then simply through deduction. the few risqué movies you’ve watched with him proved through the surprise on your face that you hadn’t seen much video porn, let alone been touched; the books you tried to hide in your purse had absurd covers with the lustful silhouettes of cowboys and prairie girls, corporate bosses and assistants, big looming over small against some dark backdrop– all of it meaning that when you were alone, you fantasized. but the most telling was when fox himself touched you, albeit innocently. it was like you’d never been touched by anything before. when fox’s fingers ghosted over your knuckles as he held your hand, you’d giggle like a schoolgirl, hiding your face in your shoulder. even better, when he brought those same hands to the soft, warm apples of your cheeks, you’d shudder, melting into his touch like you’d lost your volition. it didn't matter how he did it- if his hands were on you in some capacity, your breath hitched in your throat like a fool.

you wanted to let him touch you. there wasn’t a thing in the world you wanted more than to let him give you all of the things you’d dreamed, all of the things he must be aching to, but it was difficult for you. it seemed no amount of love was enough to break down your walls– you’d never let anyone that close. you’d always struggled with your body and your worth, and the little dating experience you’d had wasn’t much to boast about. you weren’t what people wanted, even if you were deserving. you knew fox was different, and that to him you weren't too big or not pretty enough, but you had just about every anxiety about physical affection. he had no idea you were a virgin on top of it all, which only made the pressure greater. you just couldn’t get over the fear. but you yearned to have it, so much so that even the smallest instances set your body aflame. you had the most lewd things running through your head when fox did just about anything. once you watched the man reach for the cereal box on the top shelf in his kitchen, and his sleep shirt rode up to reveal the dark happy trail that disappeared down his pants, and you felt so dizzy you could’ve dropped dead. and whenever he was close, it was unbearable. you replayed the sensation of his strong, lean hands resting protectively over your hip at his friend’s house. you thought about the way his lips felt on your forehead so often you could’ve written a book based solely on the texture. it drove you insane, the way you wanted him, and you drove yourself insane every time you didn’t act on it. but what did you know of hands, of mouths, of letting someone see what you shroud in fabric every day? what did you know of making him feel good, too, of being worth the wait for him?

now, as you curled up on his couch, you watched michael douglas’ hand grip sharon stone’s leg. it was big, but not big like fox’s. you imagined it was your boyfriend on the television, dark and brooding, as you saw how the man dove between the blonde’s legs, starving; her back arched, propelling her hips forward into his face, and she let out a soft moan. in your head, you saw yourself on that bed, and fox as hungry. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered the blanket draped across your legs in your palms, trying not to look as overwhelmed as you felt. but the agent who listened to the heavy breathing on screen saw exactly what was happening to you. he saw the blood rushing to the tips of your ears, tinting them the color of your bitten lips; he saw the way you shifted rhythmically beneath the blanket, almost undetectable, but absolutely undeniable. fox looked up at the ceiling as if to thank the god he didn’t believe in for playing basic instinct on cable, and he stood up from the desk, stalking over to sit beside you on the couch. as his body made the cushions dip, you smiled nervously. through a cracking voice, you said, “i didn’t know this movie was all… y’know.”

‘oh, yeah, it’s pretty heavy,” fox nodded, attempting his best unassuming expression. “still good, though, huh?”

“i mean, sure,”

“yeah, i think so, too.”

fox sighed just a tad too loudly and let his hand fall on your thigh. nothing but the blanket was between his palm and your skin. you looked to him with a pleading pair of eyes, though you didn’t really know what you were pleading for. the moaning from the television got louder, and you felt so warm, and his hand wasn’t going anywhere. you had no idea what to do. fox grinned at you and let his head tilt back over the couch as he swallowed thickly. you stared at the curve of his stately neck, how his adam’s apple bobbed, and every inch of your body pined in his wake. fox gazed at you, lounged wide like a lion, and his hand slowly traveled up your thigh to the crease of your hip. he slid his fingers across the soft crevice, and you were still at a statue, stuck between craving the friction and terrified to feel it.

“can i ask you something personal?” fox’s voice was gentle. husky.

“...mhm.”

“has anyone ever, uh,” you followed his gaze to the tv, where michael douglas was doing things that made your hands sweat. “have you ever done it like that?”

you prayed that a black hole would open up in the floor and suck you in, so you never had to admit the truth. but his hand was still in that soft spot, and his minty eyes were made of looking glass, and the image of him that fucked your mind was so boggling you were on the edge of giving up.

“just out of curiosity,” he added, lips curling into a cheshire smile.

you ran a hand across your burning cheeks and murmured, “uh, no. no, i haven't.”

“it’s interesting, y’know, how they can make it look so real,” fox pursed his lips, pushing his hand back down your thigh to rest on your knee.

before you could bite your tongue, you confided, “i wouldn’t really know.”

fox’s hand paused at the crest of your kneecap, a chill running down his body. he thought of you, his pretty, quiet, gentle girl, and he never once stopped to think why you were so reserved. he always blamed the little silver cross that hung from your neck and some guy from your past, but he neglected other options. but now, his mouth watered.

“really?”

you tugged the blanket up to your face. “is that a bad thing?”

the man turned to face you, pulling your hands away to reveal the flushed face beneath. you were breathing so heavily. a need rattled his bones, one he wished he could stifle. pictures flashed in his brain- you, writhing beneath him, the feeling so new, making pretty faces as he did what the people in movies do. him, defiling you, ruining the girl you’ve been, clutching to your cross as your mouth bled with his name. maybe he was a monster, but his cock twitched in his dress pants at the humiliated expression you bore.

“no, baby, of course not!” he chuckled, “no, that’s– that’s a good thing.”

“but i-”

“everyone does things at their own pace,”

“but…”

“but what, sweetheart? i don’t expect anything from you.” fox sweetly lied. he wouldn’t force it, but he wanted it. badly.

“i just wish that, uh, that i had by now. sometimes. i guess.”

your eyes darted between the television screen and the way his nimble fingers encased both of your wrists. it only took one hand for him to hold you down… what a career he could make with his other hand free.

“have you ever tried?”

“...no.”

“do you want to?”

you let out a nervous hum. something came over you like it always does, and you leaned over to hide in his shoulder; in a way, that was better than letting him see your face. his hand rested at the nape of your neck as he cooed, “awh, baby, it’s okay.”

“it’s not really okay,” you mumbled into his shirt. “it’s embarrassing.”

“i don’t think it is. i think it’s cute.”

you felt his hand run down your back, and you pushed yourself a little closer, so you could rest against his neck. fox kept talking since you were at a loss.

“nothing embarrassing about that, i promise. truthfully, you’re better off. so many guys out there just wanna take advantage, y’know?” he reasoned, tracing little things at the small of your back, fingertips like pens. “probably would’ve wished you didn’t, because you’re so hard on yourself… i would hate to know you lost your virginity to some guy who didn’t care about you. not the way i do.”

the heat of your breath against his neck was maddening. everything about you was maddening. how you curled into him for protection, for reassurance, how your palms tugged at the wrinkled cotton of his work shirt because you didn’t know where to put them. the little nods of agreement you made with every opinion he voiced. he wanted to knock you on your back and fuck you right there, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t spring it on you. you had to want it, you had to let him. and he knew you wanted to let him because it was all over you.

he asked again, “baby, do you want to?”

he raised his wandering hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, and you felt this urge inside you, an indulgence just begging to be released. acting selfishly, you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, and beneath your lips, you felt the vibration of a little growl. fox tangled his palm in your hair, and as gently as he could, he pulled your head back so you had no choice but to look at him.

“is that a yes?”

your stomach churned. “yes.”

“good. come on.”

fox rose from the couch and tugged you up with him. he watched the blanket fall from your legs to see that your sleep shorts had ridden up and tucked themselves in the chub of where your thighs and legs met, that sacred spot he’d touched before, and he rolled his eyes in ardor. with your shaky hand in his, the man led you into his bedroom, where he motioned for you to sit at the edge of the bed.

“fox, i…”

“what, love?”

“i… i don’t know.”

you watched him walk over to his closet and open the doors, revealing the shuffled-around mess inside. with his back turned to you, you saw his hands disappear to unbutton the dress shirt that crumpled on his shoulders from a day’s work. as he pulled it over his head, the spotless skin of his sculpted back smiled at you. your hips were warm.

“you’re nervous,” he said, still facing away as he threw the shirt into the basket. “i know you are. but it’s not so scary. plus, you’re with me. i’m nice, aren’t i?” “you’re very nice,” you smiled, “but you’ve done this before. you… you know so much more than i do.”

“are you sure?” fox’s laugh rumbled low in his throat, “because i’ve seen the books you read. bet you’ve got all kinds of ideas i’ve never even tried before.”

you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs into a crisscross. “w-well, that’s different!”

“no, it’s not!” the man teased, shaking his head like you were hopeless. he crossed the room, back to you, where he stood like a pillar before the bed. when you didn’t meet his gaze, he tucked his finger beneath your chin and made you. “you’ve been thinking about it for so long, haven’t you, sweetheart? about me? must be so lonely, just thinking, never doing.”

he passed his thumb over your trembling chin, admiring your starry eyes, how they reflected so much love. you were so pretty, a pretty he couldn’t have imagined if he’d seen all the most beautiful women in the world. none of them could hold a candle to his girl. “you’re so smart, so good at handling things when they’re hard. but you never let anyone handle you, do you? not even me, baby, and i could be so good at it.”

you couldn’t control how you let him sway you. you gave yourself over, basking in the rush. he settled on his knees, so you had to look down, and he pressed his hands to where your love handles dipped, passing the skin over in his hands.

“i’ve wanted to let you,” you sighed, “i’ve… thought about it.”

fox’s eyes, eager as a puppy’s, looked up at you as he asked, “well, when we’re in your head, where do i start?”

you shivered. “you kiss me first.”

the man decided that you deserved to have your fantasies fulfilled; if in your pretty mind you’d dreamed up a routine, then he’d follow it, and he’d prove to you that nothing was as good as the real deal. he pushed up on his knees and leaned in, thankful for his low-set bed, as he pressed his lips against yours. you disassembled against his touch; he moved with a cadence that had your head spinning, fingers behind your ears, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. you’d kissed him plenty, but never like this. never so messy, so desperate. he tasted warm, and kind, sunshine in a mouth. you let out a soft whimper as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“i think you’re a bad girl in that head of yours, angel,” he mumbled into your mouth. “what do i do next up there?”

you were too afraid to say it, and you didn’t want to pull away from his lips, so instead you reached for the wrist that held his hand to your face. fox’s throat tightened as you guided his hand down to your stomach, a place you didn’t let him touch often.

“so pretty, baby,” he admired, knowing exactly what it is you needed from him. he paraded his kisses down to your neck, where he got so much sloppier. he licked a stripe over your throat, nipping at the soft skin of your jaw, and he passed the chub of you over in his devastating hands. you keeled forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, and he littered your ear with little pecks. “so soft. i love your tummy, y’know. how it looks when you wear those pretty dresses, and how when you wear my shirts i can see the shape. fuckin’ adorable, you have no idea. prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“fox,” you whined. he was barely even touching you, but the weight of his words anchored your lungs to the floor.

he took a little liberty and leaned down to tug your shirt up, and began brushing his lips over you, spit for paint. you let your hands wander to his hair, and your stomach flipped at the noises he made.

“now what, sweetheart?”

“y-you… agh,”

fox pulled away, and you swooned at the sight of his pretty lips already swollen. “forgettin’ already?”

“well…” you trailed off, feeling a mental fog roll in.

fox stood up and pushed at your shoulders, tilting you back onto his bed. laying down, he had more access to pushing your shirt up and seeing you for real. he sucked at his teeth, handsome face overtaken with want; you curved like a muse beneath him, and he wondered why you hid all this body beneath clothes. you felt his hands like a compass, mapping the cascading mountain ranges and slow, dipping valleys of your hips and thighs, as if his whole world was discovering you, as if his purpose existed within the endless confines of your flesh and bones. and his hands roamed freely, nomadically, through your land, committing every road that made you shiver to memory.

“where do you touch yourself, princess?” fox smiled. you whined, and he clicked his tongue. “come on, show me.”

your hand shook, but you rested it over your shorts, and you curled your fingers in to prove you knew how.

“good girl. bet you know just what to do, huh?”

“mhm,”

“but your fingers aren’t enough, are they?” fox pouted playfully as he hooked his thumbs beneath the elastic band squeezing your waist.

“no,” you wheezed, “never.”

“fuck. you sound so pretty when you need me. let me see you.”

trying to stop himself from rushing, the man clambered on top of you and grabbed you by the back of your knees, pushing you up the bed a bit. when your head hit pillows, he tucked them behind you, and he crawled back down to your legs with a mission. gently, he tugged your shorts down, and beneath were little black boyshorts that cut into the skin of your thighs. he looked about as starving as michael douglas as he flattened his palms against your hips, adoring the sight.

“y’know, most girls hide lacy things,” he teased, “i like this so much better.”

breathlessly, you said, “lace is itchy.”

“god, you’re just dying for it, aren’t you?”

you pushed up into his palms and whispered, “please.”

“please what?”

“do it,” you heaved, “i need it, fox.”

he didn’t need to be told again. he slid your panties down in one sweep and practically drooled over what you had kept from him all this time. he could’ve cried. this must be what people felt when they saw the mona lisa for the first time, or had a prayer answered. this was his very own da vinci original. this was god’s divinity trapped in your lower half. you were an irritated pink, your pussy plump as the rest of you; as he pushed your thighs wide, he found a sheen already coating your skin. “fuck, sweetheart, is this from the movie or me?”

“y-you.” you kicked yourself for all your stammering, but the glow of his cheeks soothed the embarrassment.

“oh, yeah?”

you didn’t know how easy it would be to let yourself be touched before you just tried it. here, with the one man who might be the direct work on god on earth, you wanted to spill every secret now that you knew something of hands. your heart beat against your ribcage relentlessly as you admitted, “was imagining it was you on tv, fox, you and me,”

“jesus christ,” fox grunted, eyes dirty and dark. “i can fuck you better than he ever could.”

fox pressed his thumb to the bundle of nerves that throbbed between your legs, and just the pressure alone drew a dangerous moan from the back of your throat. he relished in the sound as he began to circle his finger, leaning down to kiss the searing skin. you rolled your hips against his touch, begging for more friction, and he wordlessly rewarded you with a new motion, one that needed two fingers for rubbing. you grabbed at his forearm as it came into reach, and he felt like he could explode from how you tugged at him. you held onto his arm like it was a lifeline. any other girl would’ve grabbed the bedsheets or touched her body, but your inexperience meant you were acting on instinct, and that quite possibly was the best thing he’d ever seen. watching you feel so good for the first time in your life had him panting like a dog. you were all his now, his pretty girl under his spell. an angel who knew only one name.

“good, baby?”

“mm-nngh,” was all you had to say.

“what a pretty girl.”

“fox…”

“good girl. only i can make you feel like this, right? not those guys in your books, none of those movies. just me, my hands, baby, my mouth,”

you used your grip on his arm to try and get him to go faster, but he refused. he wriggled free from your grasp and left a ghostly kiss on your stomach, tutting, “oh, no, angel. i’m gonna make this last. want you out of your mind when i’m done.”

you’ve felt powerless all your life, and you do even now, but this is the first time you’ve ever needed more. you were engrossed in being taken. you’d been too afraid to pray for this because you weren’t sure how the man upstairs would feel about you breaking his technical rules, but you had to have yearned to let fox take your virginity every night since you met him. you knew he’s done this before, but you didn’t know he was so gifted; but even he could tell you that it wasn’t so much his experience as it was how he wanted to ruin every other guy for you. and how could you want another when his hand– that which wrapped around the neck of a pistol, that which choked the air of men’s throats– circled your clit so gently, working a new kind of love into you that you never thought imaginable?

“been dreaming about this, y’know,” fox drawled, leaving stinging kisses on your waist. “been thinking about how our first time would go. and you’re doing so good, you’re taking it so well right now.”

you couldn’t speak. every word got caught in your chest. so instead you tugged at his hair, trying to get him to kiss you. he giggled, hovering over you and slowing his fingers so he could give you what you wanted. you moaned into his mouth, lips gnashing against his teeth in your eagerness, and just when you felt like you were starting to have some control, you felt two of his fingers push between your folds. they went so much deeper than you’ve ever gotten your own, and as he curled them inside you, your entire body shook. gasping against his cheek, you exhaled, “oh my god,”

“be careful, baby, you don’t want him to hear you,” fox warned, voice thick with lust.

you grabbed at his chest, fingers running through the little curling hairs that grew in a thicket over his heart, and you felt it beating, keeping time with his hand. you wondered if sex felt like this for everyone the first time around, but then again, how could it? unless fox was there for them all, they could never have had it this good.

“you’re so pretty,” fox cooed, “so pretty on my fingers. d’you feel pretty, baby?”

“mmm,”

“tell me you feel pretty,”

“i- i feel pretty.”

“mhm. what about me, love, you think i’m pretty, too? my hands feel pretty?”

“fuck,” you squeaked, “fox!”

“i know you do. say it.”

“you’re so pretty,” you droned, trying to catch his lips in a kiss, but he rerouted to your neck.

you ground into his palm over and over again, and he felt you burning up on his fingertips, contracting, squeezing, shaking. he moaned into your shoulder, “do you wanna cum, baby?”

your hands scratched at his arms, and to his surprise, you shook your head violently. “not yet,”

“really?”

“mm-mm. not… not time yet.”

fox’s pupils swallowed the green of his eyes. the man licked his lips and slowed to a stop, letting his fingers rest inside of you, and he asked, “what comes next, then?”

even in a position so lewd as this one, you were too embarrassed to explain. so you reached up to his mouth, swiping your thumb across his slick bottom lip, and with pretty little doe eyes, you popped your finger into his mouth. you watched as he wrapped his lips around it, swirling his tongue over the salty taste of your skin, and you whispered, “i need you.”

fox pulled off your finger with a pop. “how?”

he followed your lidded gaze as it traveled down to the bulge in his pants, and he nearly passed out.

“you sure you’re ready for that?” his eyebrows knit together in true concern, but he knew he was the one who had to answer the question, too. he wanted to do right by you– you couldn’t regret this, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you did. “i can wait, you know. this is about you.”

“no. i’m ready,”

“positive?”

“mhm,” you sighed, “just… don’t hurt me.”

the man above you melted like putty, and the hunger he’d touched you with went soft. you saw that toothy grin again, the one that gave you butterflies, and he promised, “i’d never hurt you, angel.”

the scruff of his jaw even tinted a lovesick pink as he kissed you. your fingers scratched at the back of his ears like you would a dog’s, and you confessed between breaths, “i love you, foxie.”

his hands flew to his waist and he rushed to undo his belt and shimmy the slacks down. he wanted to scream, he wanted to stand at the edge of the world and tell every soul about the way you coated his entire existence in sugar, but right now, it was just you. he was alone with his girl, and if he couldn’t tell the world, he could at least make you sick of hearing it.

“i’m so fuckin’ in love with you,” he swore, marking your face with invisible prints of his mouth. “i’m all yours, princess.”

“oh, god,” you groaned, watching how he spilled out of his boxers with glazed eyes. you had no idea where he was hiding all that. you felt a little dorky for the surprise, but who could blame you?

fox was too far to reign in. he grabbed your wrists and pulled you up, and he made you scoot up against his headboard; you pressed your back against the cold wood, and you yelped as he raised you in the air, pinning you to the wall.

“fox, i-”

“you’re not too heavy,” he stopped you, knowing what you were going to say. “you’re perfect.”

you couldn’t complain- truthfully, you didn’t even get the chance to think about it, because he was all over you. with one hand holding you up by the leg, and the other gripping the headboard with white knuckles, he pushed himself between your legs, and you knocked your head into the wall at the way he stuffed you.

“fuck, fox!”

it didn’t hurt, but god, was he big. pinned to the wall like this, you had no bearings. he had you suspended, stapled down by his sheer strength; you never thought you could be fucked like this, some little ragdoll he could throw around, but clearly you underestimated how much he could handle. you felt the wind leaving your lungs as he pulled out and snapped back in, pelvis rolling hard against your swollen clit. he moved like a wave crashing down, managing to soak every part of you with his skin.

“fuck, sweetheart, so much better than i imagined,” he croaked, “feels okay, right?”

“s-so… so big…”

“oh, baby, i know,” he babied, leaving pinprick kisses on your jaw. “you can take it, pretty girl.”

his big hand tangled itself in the hair at the base of your neck as he fucked you into the creaking headboard. you were an endless machine of moans and profanities, head lolling, trying to keep your eyes open to watch the way his lips parted at the feeling of you encircling him. he tugged at your hair, and a guttural groan escaped your lips.

“always wanted to get fucked like this, huh, baby? you’re such a good girl, you deserve it,”

“fox, please,”

“such a pretty girl,” he moaned, “jesus, you sure you’ve never done this before?”

as you bucked your hips against his swelling length, you offered a drunken grin. “only in my… dreams.”

“oh my god. you’ve got no idea how hot you are.”

he was everywhere, he was heaven, he was the pounding in your head as you collapsed against his body, letting him use you like a toy. you scratched at his shoulders, mouth all over his sizzling skin, and he flooded your ears with pretty praises. you hoped to god that by the time he was done you’d have the print of his hands tattooed on your hips, or that he’d never be done and you could float on by in this bliss forever. but his hips were thrusting hard, and falling out of time, and you felt your tummy squeezing like it was running out of air. he drowned in you, mouth full of dirty whines and strings of i love yous, and you knew you couldn’t hold back.

“f-fox… oh- oh god…”

“gonna cum for me, princess?”

“i… i’ve never…”

the feeling in your stomach was foreign and hot, and it was backing up all the functions of your brain. all you felt was fox between your legs, terrorizing this little spot that short-circuited all your nerves, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, trapping his mouth with yours– and when he hit it one last time, with eyes rolling back, and you let everything go. fox felt the warmth of you spilling over him, and the silent scream you let out had him unraveling in seconds. his hands were all over your face, fingers on your teeth as he came inside you, feeling himself mixing with you, and nearly bursting again just knowing he was.

“oh, baby,” he fussed, “good girl, atta girl!”

pulling out slowly, so you didn’t feel too shocked, he slid you down the headboard softly and helped prop you up against the pillows again. you couldn't see straight, and everything twinkled, but you did catch a glimpse of him sneaking back down the bed. the man admired the mess he left behind. the smallest dribble spilled out of you, and all of a sudden he was lapping it up with his tongue, thirsty as a castaway. your entire body buzzed with overstimulation, and in what felt like screams but only came out strangled, you exclaimed, “fuck, oh my god!”

his tongue split you open, collecting all the juices between your hips and smearing the inside of your thighs, the pretty little mound of your pussy, making you shimmer like an angel. he sucked, and he swirled, and he dug his tongue between your folds like a freak, and you grabbed at his sweaty hair, so full of him you wanted to thank your angels for sending you someone so perfect.

“come on, i know you’ve got more,” fox coaxed, “one more, baby, one more.”

black spots crossed your line of vision as you watched his face disappear in your legs, and the tidal wave rose again, drowning you in a feeling that had you bucking against his tongue like a rogue horse. you’d never been able to make yourself cum, but all it took was fox mulder to pull two loads right out of you. you felt disgusting, you felt drunk, you felt so good you could’ve died this way. you didn’t ever want to leave the bed. fox made his way back up, heaving, and he kissed you with milky lips. you tasted yourself on his tongue, and you needed his palms to pin your hips down as you trembled, stuck on your high.

“good girl, didn’t that feel good?” kiss. “you did so good, baby,” kiss, “so good for me,” kiss, “m’so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“mm… agh,”

“i know, love, take a deep breath.” you felt his hand press against your warm tummy, and he told you again, “take a deep breath for me.”

you smiled, trapped beneath him, and you breathed like he wanted you to. anything he wanted, for the rest of his life, he would get. through fuzzy vision, you saw his glittery eyes, the grecian curve of his face, the little white strip of teeth behind his handsome smile, and you felt so in love you didn’t know what to do with yourself. he started to blush under your gaze, so he laid down on top of you, resting his head on your chest to listen to your racing heartbeat.

“foxie,” you whispered.

“hm?”

“m’not a virgin anymore,” you giggled, the joy bubbling out of you.

his warm laugh echoed in your ribs. “not anymore.”

“all yours now,” you swooned, “are you happy?”

you felt his hand slither behind your back, and he scratched at your spine, making you squeal at the ticklish feeling. then he attacked your neck and shoulders, mercilessly going after all the spots he knows are most sensitive until you lost your breath again from his innocent touch. “stupid question!”

“ah!– fox– agh, stop!” you swatted at his hands, a blissful wreck.

“‘course i’m happy,” he chuckled as he relented. “are you?”

in a huff, you rested your spinning head on his pillows and blushed. “mhm. very.”

“worth the wait?”

“definitely. thank you.”

“my pleasure,” he teased, flopping down beside you and lacing his fingers with yours. and when a comfortable silence fell, he couldn’t help himself: “you know i’m never gonna stop thinking about this, right? i’m ruined for life.”

“shut up,” you laughed.

“no, seriously. get ready for a life of me drooling over you doing absolutely nothing.”

“i’d like that life, i think.”

you curled up in his side, and he drew you close, letting you hide in the crook of his neck the same way you did in what felt like a lifetime ago on his couch. there was still a little devil on his shoulder, applauding him for taking a piece of you that no one else could have now, but more than anything, his heart ebbed and flowed in his chest, blossoming each time he looked down at your pretty face. he meant it when he said he was ruined. you ruined everything by letting him fall in love with you, and he has never felt so lucky.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

inspired by this ask ;)

#Spotify #fox mulder #x files #spooky mulder #the x files #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #domestic fox mulder #soft fox mulder #fox mulder x reader fluff #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder smut #catholiscism #loss of virginity #virginity kink #plus size reader #embarrasment #god bless the freaks

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yourlocaltreesimp · 3 months

Text

Whatever you make of me

some word vomit i came up with. Special dedication to @trippygalaxy! Enjoy your SR!Link. Not proofread, im going to bed, this took hours

Tw: Kidnapping, mention of murder

｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’d always known Link to be kind. From the earliest days of your childhood you’d known him to be the definition of kind. He’d run errands for his grandfather, look after injured animals and even stood up to your childhood bullies on a few occasions. Point of the matter was, Link was a good willed person. Someone you could trust, and have on many occasions, with your life. Someone you would spend time, and currently are, walking to the edges of the world to ensure his safety.

He’s changed on some levels, sure, but he’s proven he’s still Link. He’s grown to be taller than you now, he’s let his hair get longer, he no longer trusts people with the same open heart, but you can tell that ultimately he’s the same person. He never pushed past your boundaries, he still lets you braid his hair, he still regards you with the same crooked smile as always. He’s just Link.

You were worried first upon seeing the Realm, it’s softly glowing gem off putting. There was something new about the scruffy farm boy you grew up with that you couldn’t place. Something aside from the obvious. There was more about him than there always was, something you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about. You felt as if the era you knew him was coming to a close, as if watching him leave for his adventure was seeing him out of your life. So against better judgement, you followed after him.

It’s been months since then, though it didn’t really feel like it. You learned a lot since as well. Swords didn’t feel unfamiliar in your hands, you learned the basics of healing and even met a few spirits. Learning to fight was the hardest of the three, surprisingly. Between having the spirits of heroes since passed trying their hardest to pretend you’re capable of fighting alongside Link and the man himself making your heart rate double whenever he’s within a two metre range of you, learning how to sword fight was difficult. And yet you learned. You learned how to manage the weight of the sword and your body, you learned when to swing and when to dodge, you learned responsibility and respect for your blade. You learned to fight.

You also had to learn collateral for after the fight. What herbs numb, which others will actually heal. You were reckless on your own when you didn’t know how to use your blade, but Link did and somehow managed twice the bruising. But it allowed a methodical chore that bought you some time alone when it was needed. You’d take your journal of herbs and head off into the treeline, throwing an explanation to Link over your shoulder. And that’d be it. And you’d usually return an hour or so later, flowers and herbs in hand. And usually Wild and you would joke and share stories as you prepped the herbs into elixirs.

But the longer you struggled against the rope blinding you to the pillar, the more you realised that may not be the case. You may not make it back to Link. You may not see your village again.

Link has always known you to be courageous. Despite himself being the literal hero of courage, he often found himself looking toward you. From the earliest days of your childhood, he can recall the never dying fire within you. That determination to fight in whatever you’d set your mind toward, you had a grit to you that he found admirable. Alluring, even.

He’s aware now more so than ever that there are people who’d fight to take your place at his side. People who’d give up every bit of themselves to be with him. But seeing you grow around your own will of betterment made him realise how unique you really were. He really didn’t have anyone as much as he had you. Or, At least, He didn’t want to have anyone else as much as he wanted to have you. You were the one to see past the circumstances that shifted him of kilter, and yet you accepted the whole for what it was. You changed to adapt and yet stayed much the same.

He admits that while the both of you could’ve done anything and spent your time with anyone else, he’s glad he got to live with you. It was privilege, or perhaps payment for the life he was given. In any case, it’s not like he’d ever admit it wholly.

Maybe some small part of his heart could understand it of himself, but it’d never be something he’d speak out into the world. He wouldn’t dare so much as write such vulnerability into existence. It was something for years he’s wrestled down, a hunger he’s learned to manage. He’d never force himself upon your side, he’d come at your every beck and call, but he’d never even dream of being the source of your discomfort. He only wished to bring you the love you brought upon him. Such a feeling he told himself he could not acknowledge. Such a feeling that could drive a man to madness if they were not careful. Such a feeling would to him if he were not careful.

It had been hours since you’d told him you were leaving to forage, and with not much more aside from your scream, you were gone.

He could feel him pushing at himself, pushing for him to find you, to help you. And yet he was effectively helpless. It took him nearly a week to track down the solitary fort you were presumed to be in -of course that was always presuming that they hadn’t moved your location since then and that you were still alive.

His sword felt oddly light in his hands as he trekked through the entry to the fort. His memories from there are hazed, mixed and muddled together until he can’t make much sense of them. Such a thing tends to happen when he taps into too much of the realm’s power. He embraces his soul, it guides him through the movements, cutting down body after body with little genuine regard for the consequences. All he cares about is getting to you, making sure that you were safe as he should have been able to ensure. He failed in keeping you safe once, but you would be again by the end of the night.

Seeing your slumped body tied to the support pillar was a mixed sight. He was endlessly relieved that you were alive, sure. But if there was so much as a single scratch on your skin, he could not guarantee the lives of anyone in the building. It was as if, at that moment, there was no filter to him. There was no better judgement telling him to stop as he cut you free from your bindings. There was no second guessing as he stole the breath from your lips with his own. He drank you in after so long of being starved by your absence. There really wasn’t any replacing you, the sentiment was incorrect down to the principle.

Seeing Link again, there was something different. Not odd or bad, just something about him that you couldn’t place. The blood was the most glaring, you’d have to double check him for injuries when you both were out of here.

Rather, it was his behaviour that struck you as off. He fell to his knees and desperately cut you free of the rope, hardly giving you a moment to process before he kissed you. It was uncoordinated and a little messy, but it was made up for in giddy enthusiasm.

He pulled back, his eyes glowing -no short of the word- as they searched you over. They fixated on your rope burns before he pressed tender kisses there too and lifted you up bridal style, not so much as a murmur passed between the two of you. There was something off about Link, but you suppose nothing really changed.

#legend of zelda #link x reader #link x you #yandere link x reader #sacred realm #sr!link #sr!linkxreader #loz sacred realm

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nonexistent-introvert · 1 year

Text

Train Ride

Pairing: no outbreak! college? Joel miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Content: angst, unrequited love, au where joel didn't end up being a teen dad and pursued his dreams of being a musician

A/n: Loosely inspired by this song. idek what to say anymore, im a sucker for angst and this is yet another unrequited love fic bc i love suffering. Fun fact: this fic was supposed to end happily but I decided against that.

You couldn’t help the smile that was forming on your face as you admired the photo on your phone. It's a picture of Joel. His guitar case was strapped to his back, a grin on his face, the street lamps highlighting the features on his side profile. He looked so happy and proud as he gushed over the performance he had just put up. Talking obsessively over the backstories of the music he had just played beautifully.

“Who got you smiling like that?” the teasing sound of your friend, Esther’s voice broke you out of your trance. You quickly turned off your phone, trying to brush your feelings away. “I called you thrice.” Joel said, chuckling softly at the dazed look on your face. “Well, what’s up?” You asked, shoving your phone into your pocket.

“Did you take this picture?” Joel turned his phone around. The train started moving at the same exact time, causing his hand to shake as he tried to hold onto the handrails above him. The picture became a blur as you squinted your eyes at his phone to try to make sense of it. You blinked a few times before instinctively holding his hand in an attempt to stabilize the picture, it took you a few seconds before your actions comprehended in your mind. You abruptly let go of his hand, coughing slightly and you turned your eyes away from him. “You caught me.” You awkwardly laughed, hoping that he didn’t notice how much impact the physical contact had on you Joel smiled, the sound of your own heartbeat blasting in your ears. “It’s a nice picture.” He simply complimented. “I told you you looked the most handsome and charming when you’re playing the guitar.” Esther commented from beside you. You bit your lip slightly, Esther was the whole reason why you even knew Joel. She had introduced the both of you to each other and was definitely closer to him than you are. Joel shook his head, denying Esther’s compliments. You felt yourself deflate slightly.

Joel was engaged in a conversation with Esther. You couldn’t help the sigh of disappointment as you remained your distance from the pair from your place beside Esther. They were close, you weren’t. It was none of your business nor did you want to randomly insert yourself into the conversation. While you watched the pair, a painful memory flooded your mind.

“I wonder if anyone else can make it to the performance. They all seem so busy these days, haven’t seen any of my friends around not to mention have a conversation.” The words had slipped out without any additional thought. It was the whole reason why it had hurt you so much because it was his truthful thoughts. Your heart sank, he had spent his last few days heading home with you, you definitely weren’t part of the group of friends he had mentioned. “Thanks, Joel. It’s nice knowing that I have been walking home with a stranger for the past few days.” you replied sarcastically, chuckling lightly with a playful smile on your face. It was just how you dealt with emotions, by hiding behind the protective shield that was humour. Joel blinked, the weight of his words finally comprehending in his mind. “No, no. I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that. I just-”

Honestly? You didn’t want him to elaborate, didn’t need to know what he truly saw you as, didn’t need the confirmation that he definitely didn’t reciprocate your feelings. “Joel, I’m just joking. You don’t have to explain yourself.” Joel’s gaze sunk to the floor, ignoring your words completely as he struggled to find the right words to express himself.

“You’re a friend too. Just-just not the friend that I would share some matters with.”

You laughed, brushing his reply off with a shrug. “I get it,” You told him.

His words might as well have been a bullet through your heart. He had broken your heart that day.

Despite that incident, you couldn’t rid your mind of Joel Miller. Your eyes searched for him everywhere you went. Searched for him at the usual table he always sat at in the library to do his work, searched for him among his group of friends, and searched for him in the morning when you boarded the public bus you knew he took too. Every single time you searched for him, you reprimanded yourself. He was like a drug and you were like the drug addict. All you thought of was him and all you yearned for was him. You couldn’t even will yourself to stop falling for Joel.

“Bye, you two have fun!” Esther bid goodbye, watching the doors of the train open as she stepped out and waved back to the both of you. You stared at the map above the doors, four more stations. Four more stations before Joel got off and you’re left alone. Esther sent you a teasing smile, she always laughed about the fact that the both of you couldn’t hold a conversation up with each other that lasted longer than a minute. She was right, the awkward silence that suffocated both of you arose as soon as the doors closed.

The train started up again, the sudden gain in speed causing you to stumble backwards and hit your back against the wall. Joel stumbled forward, the distance between the both of you decreased sharply. His chest was just a few inches from your face, you could feel his breath on top of your head and smell the faint cologne that lingered on him. Your heart paced, your own feelings betraying you as your mind called you a traitor. How many times have you broken the promise to yourself that you would stop your feelings for him? “sorry “ Joel muttered as he quickly restored the distance between the both of you. The stupid hope arose in your heart again, the hope that would eventually burn you. You admired the features on his face, wondering if you had the same effect on him as he did you. Logic was quick enough to shoot that thought down as the hope turned into a flame that burned painfully at your heart. Joel doesn’t feel anything for you, your own logic coldly reminded you.

Your eyes remained fixated on the train map. Counting the remaining stations to Joel’s departure. One station had already passed in awkward silence despite how much you wrecked your brains for a conversation starter. Engaging in small talk seemed desperate enough while other conversation topics just seemed dry or too random. You let out a huff, internally laughing at yourself as you snuck a glance at Joel who was tapping his feet to a rhythm. Esther was the only reason the both of you talked most of the time, your love for music was the only similar interest between the both of you. The conversation topic of guitar and music has long been exhausted from the time you went home with him every day. You’re so hopelessly in love with someone who you can’t even start a conversation with, how pathetic were you?

“I’m getting off one stop earlier.” Joel announced, following your gaze to the map above. You wondered if it was because he couldn’t stand the awkward silence between the both of you. “I have a direct bus, closer to my home too.” He explained, you nodded. “I wish I had a direct bus.” You mindlessly commented, staring at the watch on your wrist. He hummed, he pointed to a station on the map. “That’s your stop, right? Yeah, I can’t think of a bus. You live way too far so thanks for making the effort to come today.” Your heart cracked, creating faultlines that threatened to break your heart apart at any time. You smiled, nodding at him. That wasn’t your station, he didn’t remember, while you had remembered everything about him. Another painful memory drifted into view, despite how badly you wanted to suppress it and pretended it didn’t happen

“Wait, both your birthdays haven’t passed right?” Joel’s sudden question caught both you and Esther off guard. Your mind blanked out at the sudden question while Esther rolled her eyes at Joel. “Both of ours passed, a long time ago.” Joel tilted his head in confusion, trying his best to recall. You swallowed, 26th September. You recalled his birthday without a second thought. A boyish smile crossed his features, a sudden spark in his eye as a realization hit him. “Oh yea… I remember yours. February was it?” Joel furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes fixated on Esther. “February 22nd.” Esther beamed, “Congrats Miller,” You stilled, your heart pumping in anticipation as Joel’s averted his focus to you. He frowned and when you finally urged yourself to meet his eyes. All you saw was a guilty smile and you felt your heart crumble. Joel didn’t remember, he didn’t remember your birthday. Then you remembered how he gave you the same guilty look on your birthday when he had nothing prepared while you carried a bag that was filled with birthday gifts. “I’m sorry, I never knew it was your birthday.” He had apologised that day, profusely and you had reassured him despite the emptiness that lingered in your heart

Joel averted his eyes, he seemed disappointed in himself. “I’m sorry, my mind has been a mess these days. Just can’t seem to remember anything.” He admitted and you felt your heart break again.

They said that if you liked someone you would remember even the smallest details. Like you did for him.

You leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the floor as you were brought back to the present. Joel stood beside you, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. The train was just leaving the second station and heading for the third station, the station that Joel would be getting off at since he would be alighting one stop earlier than usual.

Was it really impossible between the both of you? The question lingered in your head. He has sent you multiple songs on random occasions with comments like “Do you know this song?” “This seems like your taste.”. Joel had participated in midnight conversations which caused the both of you to stay up way too late talking before he eventually urged you to sleep because it was unhealthy to stay up. Not to mention when he had brought you to a spot to admire the sunset together one day. Did you overthink everything? Did nothing matter at all? Did you make up moments and things that were never there?

“Bye.” You looked up, sucking in a breath as you realised that it was his stop. You replied a similar reply as he stepped to the front of the door, awaiting the doors to open. You followed behind him, admiring him from behind, where he couldn’t see the adoration in your eyes. You committed his figure to memory, wondering how it would feel if you hugged him from behind right now. If he would Mutter sweet nothings to you as he admitted that he wanted to spend more time with you. How his hands would feel around your waist, how his lips would feel against your temple or face, how he would leave with a promise of seeing you soon.

“You’re alighting?” He turned, surprised to see you directly behind him. You stood too close, you shook your head, “Just standing closer to the door so I could alight easier and not squeeze past people.” You defended quickly. He curtly nodded before striding out of the train, leaving you alone.

You leaned against the wall, calculating the small probability that he may reciprocate your feelings for him. The probability only got smaller every time you spent time with him.

“Get home safe.” A message from Joel. Your thumb hovered over the message, your head racing with possible replies. You closed your eyes, feeling your heart clench as you swiped his message away instead.

The thoughts of him, the clear signs that he didn’t see you that way haunted you. From how he clearly didn’t remember or know anything about you to subtle signs like how he never seemed to bother to reduce his pace when walking with you while you struggled to keep up with him. From the lack of conversations between the both of you and most clearly, how he didn’t even feel the need to contact you for weeks on end and how he doesn’t even notice your presence.

The tears came so suddenly that you didn’t even have time to duck your head down fast enough. Strangers shot you concerned looks as they saw tears drip down to the floor from your face. You quickly plastered a hand over your mouth, preventing the sob from escaping from your throat. You didn’t mean to cry, everything had just occurred to you so suddenly that it overwhelmed and confused you. You stared at the darkness outside, if only Joel knew how you felt right now. Like your heart was about to just give up, tired of beating to someone’s else rhythm.

Someday, one day, you’ll stop loving Joel Miller.

Until then, you’ll continue admiring him from afar, imagining that he loved you as much as you loved him.

Until then, you’ll allow him to break your heart again and again.

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g0nta-g0kuhara · 2 months

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Hey! You!

Your Gonta post game headcanons! Now! /nf

POST GAME HCS... Let me see...

I always get hung up on talking about this kind of thing cause there's so many little details for how post game might work that alter how I think characters might deal with things that its kinda hard to nail down. But there is some general stuff that stays the same.

I think Gonta's desire to be useful would not have changed with his death. He's probably just as eager as before to help anyone who needs him. I headcanon that he's one of the first ones back on their feet after waking up from the simulation (just because he was physically very very fit before) so he tries to dote on anyone who lets him.

Gonta isn't the kind of person to avoid someone because he feels guilty or awkward. He would Immediately try to find Miu and apologize profusely, crying and all. Im not sure how she would react to all this... I've seen some people say she would be hesitant around him or flat out reject any of his apologies, and some say that she wouldn't blame him much and instead put most of it on Kokichi. Regardless, I don't think they'd be close post-game.

Now this depends on if they all woke up together or woke up concurrently and watched the game as it continued without them. In my headcanon, they woke up all together. In which case, Gonta would not hate Kokichi. Based on their last interactions before his death, Gonta would probably feel closer to him than ever. But (as I kinda got into in the fic I wrote) I don't think Kokichi could stand being around him At All after everything. I think after baring himself a bit in ch5 he would wall himself off completely. And that means cutting Gonta off. I think Kokichi would lash out and say whatever cruel things he would need to to get him to stay away from him. Which of course would really hurt and confuse Gonta, especially having never seen the ch4 post-execution.

I've talked about it before but I also don't really think Gonta wouldn't have many places to go when it comes to joining the others? My post-game friend groups (read: lunch groups) kind of look like this:

•Shuichi, Maki, Kaede, Kaito •Himiko, Tenko, Angie (wary truce between tenko and angie) •Miu, Kiibo (who wanders a bit) •Kirumi, Rantaro (also wanders, especially to shuichi's group), Ryoma (also wanders) •Korekiyo (solo) •Kokichi (largely absent) •Tsumugi (SOMEWHERE ELSE)

Gonta could join almost any of these groups and be welcomed with open arms, but it really doesn't feel to me like he fits neatly into one consistently. The groups that exist are tight, and despite being close with one or two of their members he's not like. explicitly invited I feel. If Gonta didn't show up, no one would really question it.

Post-game Korekiyo... is complicated. If he wasn't actually a serial killer, then I think him and Gonta could hang out a bit. But Kiyo has always preferred to be an outside observer who appreciates his alone time, and Gonta would respect that.

Basically, I just feel Like Gonta would be pretty lonely postgame. The major threat of the killing game (that he can face with his physical strength) is gone, so he would really struggle to find his place in the group. It would probably worsen his pre-kg and post-kg related self esteem problems.

One last thing: I like to think that Gonta still doesn't remember the virtual world, but a strong trigger could cause the memories to come back. For angst purposes, of course. Regardless, he would have a complicated relationship with the snow. I think he would just feel this inexplicable sense of dread at the sight of it.

#This is so long and honestly I don't think too too much about post game recovery beyond the initial months for the entire cast #thats more for the non-simulation survivior trio/quartet #gonta gokuhara #drv3 spoilers #pluto answers #shut up me #sorry if any of this is phrased weird I'm tired so I haven't proof read ghdjskfsd

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hiemaldesirae · 17 days

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Question: how would your characterization of demon Alastor react to finding out for the last 60+ years that what he thought was Vox breaking up with him was actually Demon!Valentino drugging/r**ping him with his venom/aphrodisiac and Vox has No memory of what he and Alastor actually had? No memory of anything except maybe the last month? And to find out Valentino only did this so Vox (who was becoming a TV mogul) would put his pornos on the tv. How would he help Vox remember? What would he do to Valentino? Would Velvette also suffer?

okay so. nonny, i wont blame you for not knowing, especially since ive never explicitly talked about it on main, but for future reference, im not that big on the whole abusive staticmoth dynamic. i can see why others enjoy it, and i do read stories with it from time to time simply because the premise captivates me that much, but in general id say i much more prefer a version where val and vox are at the very least best friends if not crossing into the sort of blurry best friends who smooch sometimes territory.

now having said that, i'll still answer your question because again, not very fair of me to just brush you off for no reason when i never made my preferences clear beforehand. (this gets long, so i'll leave a readmore.) warning: my demon radiostatics are always freak4freak no matter what. so this does get a little iffy in terms of ethics

my favourite interpretation of radiostatic is two sickos who are just as closely obsessed with each other, so in the unlikely case that al would let vox go for that long, when he realizes again the first thing he's going to do is go and. well. for lack of a better term, atticwife him (i hope to god this isn't just a term used in east asian fandoms because if i have to explain this ill eat lead). maybe after a little bit of time, he'll allow vox some liberties, but even then it'd be very little. ill put it this way- imagine the most toxic irl relationship you can: someone who tracks and micromanages their partners every move, barely lets them outside the house without going with them, monitors every friendship that they allow their partner to have, and there you have it. thats radiostatic! ah, young love. so sweet, dont you think? after all, alastor can't risk his muse's eyes slipping off him again. he's been deprived of that attention for far too long, and it wasn't even by his own doing! that's an offense in and of itself.

now im assuming that its only val who's doing the exploitation here so presumably vel would have no hand in any of the mess, and perhaps not even be fully aware of the nuances behind the scenes. i mean, it wouldn't really matter either way because once alastor finds out the reason why his other half hasnt been reciprocating their insane little song and dance he's getting rid of any and all obstacles, permanently. vox doesnt need anyone else so long as he has him- and hey, he was friends with him, rosie and husk first, so its not even as if its much of a loss. the only people he'd presumably leave alive would be voxs own contracted souls, and even then thats a bit of a gamble depending on just how bad i want the both of them to be: without his contracted souls, vox would be weaker and more susceptible to whatever alastor wants, so i guess its a matter of whether or not i want the freak4freak relationship where theyre both equally strong but vox willingly submits because he gets more thrill out of it that way or whether i want freak4freak where vox has to struggle way harder and still ends up giving in anyway because al is simply stronger

as for what he'd actually *do* to val. i mean. he does still have that radio broadcast of his, doesn't he? i think you can probably put the pieces together. the thing with animal sinners is that theres simply so many parts of them to break... show-wise, i never understood how overlords like alastor or val could even rise to their position, with the amount of weak spots they must have. that broken antenna vox and val share is certainly something that speaks to their higher vulnerability. and moth wings are especially fragile: i owned little silkworm moths at one point (they were my babies, i loved them for the month or so i got to care for them) but their wings were so thin they were wearing holes in them by the second or third day. val's coat-wings look much thicker in comparison, but of course, my perception is limited by the show only. so i mean, who knows? im sure whatever happens, itll make the best entertainment in al's eyes :)

#if you guys want to hear more unhinged radiostatic i mean #im always glad to share it but in my head the vees are very tightknit #like very difficult to distinguish them between a polyam relationship and normal friendship tightknit #so i do dislike making val the main 'villain' just for tension purposes #but freak4freak radiostatic questions are always welcome!#ran rambles #hazbin hotel #radiostatic #general asks

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growingingreenwood · 3 months

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Hey Mama, are you doing okay????? In class today we were looking at polar vortex in North America rn and one of the places my teacher talked about was the province i think you live in (you're Canadian, right???) and he said it was like -40 Degrees Celsius there!!!!! I don't even know how to comprehend those temperatures!!!! Like, are you still alive out there???

Hello my sweet summer child! <3 You're right, I am Canadian! And im not going to lie to you, its been rough out here. And more importantly, its been CONSISENTLY COLDER THAN THE SURFACE OF MARS HERE.

My area of the province has set several temperature records in the past few days:

January 14, 2024: New record of -45.1, Old record of -41.6 set in 2020

January 13, 2024: New record of -45.3, Old record of -41.7 set in 1972

January 12, 2024: New record of -45.9, Old record of -39.4 set in 1969

This doesn't account for the Windchill factor which effectively made the temperatures closer to -55 degrees or colder. To put it into context the only way I can think to, According to Environment Canada at:

-28 to -39 degrees Celsius exposed skin can freeze in 10-30 minutes.

-40 to -47 degrees Celsius exposed skin can freeze in 5-10 minutes.

-48 to -54 degrees Celsius exposed skin can freeze in 2-5 minutes.

Literally not a single car in my family's worked, no matter what we did. This is including extended family, so like, 13 cars. Its just too damn cold for them. Hospitals were literally wrapping their ambulances with heated blankets in between calls so that the entire engine wouldn't freeze. In their heated garage.

Its about an eight day wait for any kind of towing or boosting services. From any provider.

We out here, we cant see anything through the ice fog because the air itself is frozen, but we out here.

Also, I feel like this is the perfect opportunity to give the rest of you much farther south than me tips for surviving other wandering polar vortex's in the future, because at least we're prepared up here:

YOU NEED SURVIVAL EQUPMENT IN YOUR CAR!!! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH!!!! I'm talking heavy duty gloves, hats, socks, blankets, those heat reflective thermal blankets. If possible, have enough for at least two people but if you're a family ensure there's clothes for every member of your family. I also highly recommend that you get hand and feet warmers to put into your boots and gloves to prevent frostbite

Here is a good checklist to keep, and is very similar to what I have in my car:

https://todayshomeowner.com/weather/guides/winter-survival-kit-for-your-vehicle/

On that note, dressing for seriously cold weather is no fucking joke either, okay? There's an art to it, and that art is L A Y E R S . More layers than you think you need, and then one more. If you can bend your arms or legs without struggling at least a little bit, put another sweater on, underneath your windproof thick outer layer. And another pair of socks. Never leave the house without a hat and your ears covered.

Here's a good guide, which includes the warning signs, symptoms, and suggested actions for each stage of frostbite and hypothermia. Which, in case you didn't know happen in three stages of severity similar to burns but on the opposite side of the temperature scale.

Sorry to turn this into a Winter Weather Safety PSA but I genuinely cannot stress enough how important it is to be prepared in extreme cold. And please, for the love of everything good on this earth, do not and do not let your friends or anyone else walk anywhere when they've been drinking. Do. Not.

Every year in my city at LEAST several collage kids freeze to death because "their place isn't that far" "I have a good jacket." "Ive done it before."

People have frozen to death outside bars because they fell in a snowbank and were too drunk to get out and nobody saw them, because they tried to walk home.

Anyways, stay safe (and warm) out there everyone!!!!

#answered asks #haleigh speaks #not tolkien #but very important!!!!!#winter safety #winter safety tips #extreme cold #I'm from northern Canada okay i know what I'm talking about #polar vortex

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wooahaes · 2 years

Text

under the sun [dk]

pairing: non-idol!seokmin x gn!reader

prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.

word count: 8.7k

warning: a lot of emotional vulnerability between reader and seokmin (angst). skinship. vague food mentions (they cook, so food implied). seokmin and reader both cry on each other multiple times. fluffy idiots who fall for each other and know it. minimal editing, admittedly (its 6 am).

daisy’s notes: im sorry i have 0 impulse control and wrote this in the span of a few hours.

summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world... and between you and one of them.

< day 3 || masterlist ||

Things were... hard in the beginning. Seokmin knew that just as much as everyone else did. Despite the fact he was always a ray of sunshine, according to everyone who knew him, he struggled when he first showed up with nothing but the clothes on his back. He hid that struggle well, in his opinion, since no one ever seemed to comment on it--more-so on the lack of a struggle. Joshua had once said it was like Seokmin had always been right there with them with how well he seemed to mesh into the group. He just smiled and nodded along, agreeing that the group always felt like family since he stepped into it--but he knew that he struggled a little with feeling... out of place. Maybe it came in part from being the only person there who wasn’t found by Seungcheol. It was something that still stung to think about, in a weird sense that he never told anyone. Like he had tread on forbidden ground, his stay allowed by someone who couldn’t fully guarantee it (but Jeonghan and Joshua had both promised him that he would be cared for, that Seungcheol would let him stay despite the anxiety in the back of his mind telling him that his word seemed to hold more power than theirs). Seokmin learned in time that, while Seungcheol did lead them, he valued the opinions of everyone there. People were allowed to make their case when fights broke out among the group (and they did: Seokmin witnessed so many and partook in some), and Seungcheol listened. But that was something Seokmin learned in time.

He saw himself in you, if he was honest. That same inkling of uncertainty that bled through in certain actions. He saw it in Mingyu when he first came, all hidden behind that happy exterior and a charming smile as he got along with everyone. In Minghao, too, in the way he retreated into himself, too uncertain of the others at first until Seokmin (and Jun--Seokmin knew it was a collaborative effort, even if his initial talks were enough to warm Minghao up a bit) helped build that bridge between them. In Seungkwan, who was brought into his friendship with Soonyoung with ease; in Hansol, who masked it well, too, but opened up when Seokmin prodded him to; and in Chan, who openly spoke to him one night about feeling out of place.

So when he found you outside one night, several days after you learned your name, he wasn’t surprised. Sure, you came out of your shell a little--in part because Chan took you on as his own companion, but Seokmin still saw it. The moments of uncertainty in your actions, more-so when you had to ask for help. He understood it. That was what he did: he understood the hard parts and tried his best to brighten them up so that everyone remembered they weren’t alone.

He stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching where you had sat down in the grass. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Your shoulders jerked as you whipped around to face him, and Seokmin could see where there were wet streaks down your cheeks. He understood that part, too. You wiped at your eyes roughly, apologizing without much of a second thought to it.

“I can leave if you need to be alone,” he said softly, but took a few steps forward just to crouch down next to you. “Do you want me to leave?”

He watched you think it over, lips pressing into a tight line before you shook your head. You scoot aside a little, giving him the space to sit down if he wanted to. “It’s okay,” you said. “I’m fine now.”

“Are you?” He sat down next to you, watching you carefully. “It’s okay to cry. We all know this is hard.”

“It shouldn’t be,” you hugged yourself. “It’s just...”

He said nothing. Seokmin just sat there, watching you take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. If you wanted to cry, though, he would let you. He just needed to know how to care for you if you did, even if that meant leaving you alone to let emotions run their course.

“It’s just hard.”

Seokmin looked ahead, watching tall wheat sway in the breeze. The moon was big and bright, and he wondered if he’d see another falling star. He remembered hearing about one the night of Chan’s celebration. Chan hadn’t shut up about it the entire morning they found you, after all, citing Seungcheol as being right there with him when he saw it. That felt special. Maybe Seokmin would witness something like that with you, if he were lucky. A little moment shared between the two of you might help make you feel more at home.

You reached up, wiping at your eyes again. “I feel like everyone’s just going to worry if I don’t act like I’m fine. I know it’s annoying having to teach me everything.”

“You’re learning,” he said. “Everyone learns differently. No one’s going to be upset with you for that.”

“I know.” You didn’t look at him, just staring straight ahead as you controlled your emotions as tightly as you could. “I don’t want anyone to worry about me any more than they already do.”

Seokmin just stared at you for a moment. He understood that part, too, a little too well. He just put on a smile instead, soft and understanding as he could make it. “It’s okay to be cared for,” he said. “We’re a family. We’re supposed to be here for each other. That includes you.”

He watched you shut your eyes, squeezing them tight, but the tension ease off of your shoulders a little.

He tore up pieces of grass. “But if it helps,” he said, letting them drop into the breeze. “You can come to me, and I won’t tell anyone unless you want me to.”

He could have cited Chan, or Seungcheol, or anyone else that you were probably closer to. Yet... Seokmin felt like he saw himself in you a little more than he saw in the others. Perhaps that was why he felt the need to be there for you. Right when he was about to apologize, to ask if he crossed a line with that, you relaxed a little and finally met his gaze.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said. “Thanks, Seokmin,” and you leaned forward, pressing a gentle peck against his cheek. “You’re sweet.”

He watched you stand up, stretching in place for a moment before making some remark about how you were going back to bed now. Mingyu was probably missing his cuddle partner. You asked if he was coming, and he waved you to go on ahead. He could use a moment to himself, too. He waited until you went back inside to finally let out a breath, burying his face in his hands for a moment. One little kiss on the cheek was enough to fluster him, definitely because he wasn’t sure you’d be that kind of person. His fingers brushed over where your lips had pressed earlier, and he smiled to himself.

Maybe the two of you would be good friends in the end, if you liked him enough to show that little display of affection in private. He was sure you’d do the same with someone like Chan, and he knew that Seungcheol would dote on you and give you tiny kisses on the top of your head when trying to comfort you (he’d seen Joshua do the same, to be honest). But he felt... a little special in getting your affection like this.

A week later, you pressed a small note into Seokmin’s hand when you passed by him, pausing long enough to ask him what he was doing with Minghao. He pushed the note into his pocket (you lingered behind long enough to watch him do it) and met you gaze with an understanding nod before you trailed off after Jeonghan to go play some card game he’d been wanting to show you. All you gave him was a general time and place (after everyone went to sleep in the gardens), and when the time came, you pulled yourself out of Chan’s embrace. He pulled your little mouse plush into his chest, falling back asleep soon enough while you tiptoed around bodies until you finally left to wait in the gardens. You sat down underneath the peach trees, shivering slightly in the night’s breeze. Normally it was so warm, but maybe it was your mood that was making you feel a little colder. Wasn’t there some science there? You weren’t completely sure.

Soon enough, Seokmin emerged from the church and found you. He walked over, slowly sinking into the spot next to you.

“What’s wrong?” He finally asked a few minutes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You just leaned into his side, shutting your eyes. A swell of guilt rose in your stomach over inviting him out just to vent your own frustrations. “I feel like I don’t belong here.”

Seokmin held back the urge to tell you that you did. That wasn’t what you needed right now, even if he did think that you belonged right there with them. “Why?”

A quiet inhale. A slow exhale. “I don’t remember anything.” You met his gaze a moment later. If it weren’t for the clear skies and the moon overhead, you wouldn’t be able to see his face. “I didn’t even remember my own name. It just feels... wrong.”

“It takes time,” he said. “Even if you never remember, it won’t change how we feel about you.” His hand brushed over your own. “You’re you. We like you.”

“But what about me?” You felt tears beginning to well up, and started trying to blink them back. “How can I like me if I don’t know who I am yet?”

Seokmin’s gaze softened tremendously at that, already reaching out to pull you closer. You folded into his arms without hesitation, eyes squeezing shut as you let go, tears spilling down your cheeks. He said nothing and just held you, slowly rubbing your back as you cried into his chest. Something in his chest ached at the thought of you being unable to love yourself. He hadn’t fully considered that aspect of it. Even with all the support around him, Seokmin could understand the feeling, too, of not being whole and trying to navigate that.

“I think... We have to love the parts of us we have,” he said quietly when your sobs grew softer. “And the people we’re becoming instead.”

You curled your hands into his shirt, fabric bunched between your fingers. “It’s just not fair--” You hiccuped, trying to bring yourself back down from your emotional high. “I just...”

Seokmin’s fingers grazed your shoulders for a moment as he brought you out of his chest, taking your face into his hands. He wiped away your tears. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s hard... but you can do it. We’ll love you no matter what,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t forget that. We’ll be right here with you.”

Seokmin felt something stir in his chest at that. A need to hold you, to just stay there with you. Was it the familiarity in you? In your words. Seokmin loved himself, that much was true. But loving something incomplete? The way a parent was meant to love their child? The way partners loved each other, or the way friends loved one another until the end point was reached? What was life if not a series of moments loving people who were still growing until you reached the end? His thumbs grazed your cheeks a moment longer before he let go of you, letting you move back into his arms to just stay there and be held. He understood that, too. Sometimes all he wanted was for the others to hold him for a moment, usually excused as him simply seeking skinship. The warmth of another person’s touch, their presence to remind you that they’re alive: how can someone live without it?

He thought about Seungcheol’s time alone sometimes. It flooded his nightmares, too, of a world where he was completely alone. Even his more recent dreams of being in a band with a few unfamiliar faces turned darker when they disappeared the moment he looked away. He’d wake up, sometimes with his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, and he’d remember he wasn’t alone. But even the thought of him being left alone terrified him most days. To not have Soonyoung to joke around with, or Minghao to sit with on lovely evenings, or fruit to share with Seungkwan... or you, right there in his arms because you trusted him to see the messy parts of you?

Seokmin wanted you to stay right there with him forever, just so he knew he’d have someone in his arms who could understand. He shut his eyes, letting you just hold onto him and snuggle into his chest.

A few more minutes, the two of you told yourselves. And then you’d go to bed after savoring that little moment of warmth a bit longer.

“Mouse.”

You’d been kneeling in the dirt when Minghao approached you, his own work completed. He’d waved to Jun on his way over before tucking his hands back into his jacket. He stood in front of you for a moment, quiet and watching you. You had greeted him in turn, glancing back at the blackberries you’d been picking before watching him for a moment longer. It was evident that he wanted to say something to you, yet... He was hesitating.

“Is everything okay?” You asked after another moment of waiting. “You can talk to me, Hao. It’s okay.”

Minghao glanced back to where Jun was before he turned back to you. “Do you want some help?”

You looked back at the blackberry bush in front of you, and then to Minghao. “I think I’ve got it handled!” You smiled, “Thanks--”

He kneeled down anyway, not joining in on the work at all. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said outright, “so I think I should just... say it.”

You frowned. Minghao didn’t exactly get along with you the way others did, but you didn’t think he disliked you. For the most part, you just tried to be mindful of his boundaries. “Did I do something?”

Minghao’s gaze flickered back up to your face instead of his own hands where he’d been fiddling with the bracelet he wore--something Joshua had made, you thought. It looked like the beaded jewelry he made. “No!” He said, “No, I...” He took a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you... I think Seokmin carries a lot on his shoulders.”

You furrowed your brow. “Okay?”

“I know the two of you have been talking,” he said. “I... saw the two of you, I mean. I didn’t hear anything, but...”

“You don’t want me to talk to him?”

Minghao didn’t meet your gaze. “You should talk to him if it helps you. I just wanted you to care for him a little more than you care for the rest of us.”

With a glance at your basket of berries, you decided you’d picked enough. You pulled off your juice-stained gloves, setting them into your lap as you settled into the grass. “I don’t understand.”

He looked up after a long inhale. “Seokmin talks to us, but I think he doesn’t do it enough. I was just thinking that maybe... if he isn’t going to talk to us yet, then maybe he’d open up to someone new. Someone different from us.”

Different stood out a little too much to you. But you masked the slight tinge of pain it brought on. “I’ll try,” you promised.

“I know it’s a lot of responsibility,” he said. “I don’t know how to tell you I don’t... expect you to do it? I just want Seokmin to know he can talk to someone. He doesn’t have to hide his feelings.”

“Why haven’t you tried talking to him?”

He pressed his lips together. “I’ve tried,” he admitted, “a few times. We’ve talked a little, and it helped, just...”

“Not enough.”

On one hand, you didn’t understand what Minghao wanted from you. If Seokmin wasn’t going to tell people he was close to about the way he felt, why would he talk to you, someone who was still a stranger to him? Sure, Minghao said that you were “different” from them in some way, but... why you? What could Seokmin tell you that he wouldn’t tell someone like Minghao, or Soonyoung, or even Seungcheol? But on the other hand, you could maybe understand it a little. In a sense, you were a new perspective to certain things. From what you heard, Chan seemed to get the hang of things and fit in with relative ease pretty early on. You were still finding your footing, trying to get into the rhythm of things a little over a week after you came.

“You don’t have to do much,” Minghao said. “Just be there for him if he asks for you to be.”

That much you could do for anyone there. The moment you promised to try, you could practically see the stress roll off of Minghao’s shoulders. He shyly pressed a gentle peck against your cheek, the way others confidently did, and thanked you before returning to his own work. Your fingers grazed over where his lips had just been, and you smiled to yourself.

It was nice to know how much this family cared for one another.

Out of everyone, you liked cooking with Seokmin the most. Maybe it was because of your blossoming feelings for him, but he was nice to stay around. He always asked you about your day and would gently correct you if he needed to, or he’d tell you a story from before you came. It was nice to hear about the way life was before Seungkwan and Hansol found you, or even before they found Chan... Just little stories there, most from that first month of Chan’s joining. Seokmin talked about the time they went swimming together once at that lake. They’d have to take you one day--maybe before your celebration when they all need the break from preparations.

“Seokmin?” You looked up. “Celebrations were your idea, right?”

He hummed in response. “Yes?”

“Why?” You paused for a moment, realizing how harsh that could come off, “I mean--It’s a nice idea. I really like it. I think it’s sweet how much you guys celebrate your time together. I was just thinking about it, that’s all.”

Seokmin’s actions slowed to a halt. “I think... We all deserve to be happy for once.”

“We’re happy without them, though, right?”

He hesitated for a moment, before giving you a curt nod. You could hear the sound of him beginning to chop again, knife hitting the cutting board with each slice. “Right. But before I came, it felt like everyone was more carefree about it. I think we should take the time to really appreciate what we have.”

You had continued working, nodding along as he spoke. “A home...”

“That, but... our family. The garden. We’re all here and we’re doing well,” he paused for a moment. “We’re surviving together. The others survived before we came here, too. And.. we joined,” he met your gaze a moment, “and we’re helping build this community, too.” His eyes were twinkling with joy. “I think that’s something we should celebrate.”

“Why a month?” You asked. “That’s what the others said: one, three, six, and then it was supposed to go by year.”

Seokmin grew a little flustered as he looked away from you. “I think it’s good to celebrate people deciding to stay and making the effort to live with each other. That’s all.”

You could see the appeal. All you did was nod once more, letting out a small hum of acknowledgement for the sentiment. Seokmin truly was sweet and probably one of the most openly caring people there.

“I think it’s important to feel special,” he said a moment later. “And to remember that you’re cared for.”

Again, you ended up pausing for a moment. That was sweet. Seokmin was sweet. You already knew you were starting to fall for him, for how kind he was, but that moment made you fall a little bit more. He thanked you for staying a moment later.

“Thank you for staying, too,” you said in return. “I’m glad you’re here, Seokmin.”

He couldn’t fight back the smile tugging at his lips, face warm and heart fluttering. He pressed another kiss against your forehead before he hugged you tight, thanking you for being a sweetheart. And maybe, just a little, he felt that feeling of needing to be close to you stir in his chest more.

When Seokmin fell asleep that night, he dreamed of fighting with something over something stupid. He remembered the fear of getting hit and backing down. It was familiar--like the silly fight he had with Mingyu once. But... different. The strangest sense of deja vu despite not recognizing the walls around him, the face of the person he was arguing with even though he swore he knew that person.

When he woke up, he saw your sleeping face across from his own. Soonyoung had curled up close to you again, face squished against your shoulder. You had a hand laid, palm-up in front of you as you peacefully slept. He reached up, cautious for a moment, but he gently placed his own over yours. He liked the way your hand seemed to perfectly fit in his own.

Maybe he already liked you. Seokmin was happy to admit that to himself. Maybe he’d tell you, too, sometime soon. When he was ready, he promised himself.

You had asked Seokmin if he wanted to go on a walk with you one night. While you had no woes to really spill for once (you felt fine, to be honest), you hoped that maybe he’d open up to you this time. If nothing else, you were happy to have him as company. You were always happy to have Seokmin right next to you. He’d been sticking closer to you, too, lately. You weren’t always great at gauging when people had feelings for you--especially in such an affectionate group that seemed to press kisses onto your skin and hold your hand and cuddle close whenever given the chance--but... Seokmin always had this look on his face when he looked at you. It was overflowing with affection, more-so than the way he looked at the others. He loved everyone: that you were positive of. But... something about how tender he would be with you, fingers intertwined with your own so often like it was something he was meant to do...

You had a pretty good feeling about Seokmin. If you were a little braver, you’d ask him outright how he felt. But that could come later.

He had held your hand that night, walking with you alongside the river. Neither of you were going to go too far from the church, but with the moon bright above, you felt no worries about losing your way. Seokmin’s warm hand, palm pressed against yours, only served to make you feel safer. You hoped he felt the same with you there.

“Did someone put you up to this?” He asked after a while.

You looked up. “What?”

“Not the walk,” he said. “I think that was you. But... I know the others worry,” he said. “Was it Minghao? Or Jeonghan? Or... maybe Soonyoung,” he said, voice growing a little quieter, “did someone ask you to watch over me?”

You grew flustered, realizing how easily he saw through you. “No one put me up to this--”

Seokmin stopped, stepping into your way. “It’s okay,” he said. “Like I said... I know the others worry. I promise I’m okay,” he said, pulling his hand free. He took your face into his hands, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

“Would you?”

He nodded, not offended by the slight disbelief in your voice. “It’s my job to help make everyone happy,” he told you. “That’s why I suggested the celebrations. We all struggle sometimes... so I’m here to help make it better.”

You frowned. “Seokmin...” You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. You pressed your palms against his own, his fingers following your own as you stretched yours. “Then who’s supposed to hold you through your hard times?”

“I can take care of myself,” he promised. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

That... stung. You trusted him. Did he not trust you? “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Would it help if I promised to come to you?” He drew your hand closer to his mouth, pressing his lips against your knuckles. “If I need you?”

You nodded. “It would.”

“Then I will.” Another kiss against your knuckles. “Can I hold you tonight?”

You frowned. “Seokmin...” You pouted. “Chan already asked, I feel really bad going back on it--”

He laughed. He wasn’t offended by a promise to cuddle with someone else--but you pouting over having to turn him down only endeared you more to him. “Tomorrow, then,” he said. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Should we head back? This was nice,” he slipped his hand into your own again, fingers intertwined. “We should do this more.”

“Go for walks?”

“Be together,” he smiled at you. “I like being with you.”

You hid a smile behind your free hand, and the sound of Seokmin’s laugh only made the heat travel back to your face. Even if the night was a failure at getting him to open up, you felt... more certain that Seokmin liked you the way liked him. Maybe something would blossom further between the two of you. If you could have more little dates with Seokmin like this (and something told you, by that cute look on his face, that he’d be the kind of person to follow you anywhere), you’d be happy. Maybe he’d open up to you further as you grew closer.

He let go of your hand when you came back to the church, not wanting anyone to catch either of you in what was beginning to feel more intimate. But you turned back to him before the two of you could head down to rejoin the others, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Maybe he’d kiss you soon. You made him want to even more.

He watched you trail a few steps ahead, Chan looking up from where he’d changed for bed and been in conversation with Seungkwan, smiling the moment he saw the two of you had returned. He opened his arms out, doing grabby hands for you to come over.

“Let me change, you dork!” You called out, and Seokmin only smiled as he watched you walk off.

Cute. He liked how much you seemed to fit into their family now. He’d end up curled up between Seungkwan and Soonyoung soon enough, but he honestly ached to hold you in his arms again. Something about holding you made him feel safe.

He dragged himself from bed, quietly leaving the room to get a glass of water. The sound of someone coming in pulled his attention away from the tap, and he felt water spill over his fingers as Seungcheol stood in the doorway.

“Is everything okay?” Seungcheol asked once he grew a little closer, leaning against the counter.

Seokmin nodded, wiping off the side alongside his wet fingers. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Seungcheol nodded, arms folded across his chest. “How’s Mouse?”

“They’re--” He paused, hesitating. He figured someone would have noticed the way you two would sneak away to talk at night--and it didn’t surprise him that Seungcheol either would have been told or noticed on his own. You had been struggling before, but he promised he wouldn’t tell Seungcheol without reason.

“They don’t know I’m talking to you,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me anything they trusted you with, Seokmin. But... is there anything the rest of us can do for either of you?”

Seokmin caught that, too outright for him not to. “I’m fine,” he insisted further. “I think they’re having a rough time. They’ll come to you when they’re ready.”

Seungcheol nodded, busying himself with straightening up. “What about you?”

“Cheol,” Seokmin frowned. “I promise I’m okay.”

Seungcheol looked up. “You can always talk to us,” he said again. “I just wanted you to know that--”

“I know you worry,” he said. “I appreciate the concern. I promise I’ll come to you if I need you.”

Seungcheol drifted a step back. “Okay,” he said. “Sleep well. You know we’re here for both of you.”

Seokmin thanked him as Seungcheol began to head back to bed, and he called out a goodnight to him before he left completely. He sighed, feeling as though his mask was slipping a little too much nowadays. He had heard Seungkwan venting frustrations to Hansol the other night, talking about how much of his previous life felt like it was right there at the tip of his tongue. He heard Soonyoung swear that Jihoon’s songs reminded him of something. That Jihoon was getting frustrated again, because now he was struggling to write lyrics in general--and even though he never managed to finish those songs, something blocking out any inspiration to do so, it was... more frustrating this time.

Seokmin decided he would be the sunshine they all needed to clear away the rainy feelings. He could deal with his own feelings later. But when he went back to bed, to curl up next to Seungkwan and Soonyoung again, he looked back at your sleeping form. Chan’s arms were wrapped around you, your back pressed against his chest so he could bury your face in his shoulder. Mingyu was on the other side of you, holding your hand. That little stuffed mouse you slept with was nestled close to you, too.

Maybe Seokmin could tell you, first. You’d been open enough with him. Maybe it was his turn to open up.

There was a little pressure to do things well whenever Seungcheol was working with you. Most of the time, you realized it wasn’t necessary. While he would check in with whoever was on the same chore as him, he wasn’t going to hover over your shoulder and chastise. Sometimes he’d catch mistakes, but they were always met with a firm correction and an explanation on what you were doing wrong if you needed it. But most days, he’d go off and work on harvesting his own things, or he’d focus on his own share of the laundry. He was a leader, yes, but he still had to complete his own share of the chores every day.

Yet he stayed close to you that day, watching the way you were pruning plants the way he taught you. Just to observe, he told you. Yet he stayed kneeled nearby, picking his own share of fruit from those bushes while you dropped yours into the basket between the two of you. Sometimes clipping away at the dead leaves that had shriveled up enough that you could safely remove them. Seungcheol watched on with the slight sense of pride in his eyes that you had listened well.

After the longest time of not talking, save for the occasional note of praise, he spoke up again: “Is everything okay?”

You said nothing, caught off-guard by the sudden question. Did Seokmin say something...? Had you said something worrisome by accident? You weren’t sure. You hadn’t had any problems lately, after all. Was that what worried Seokmin...?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me about it,” he continued on after a moment, not looking up from his own gardening. “But you should know you can always come to me if you need to.”

You nodded. “Right. Thank you, Seungcheol.”

He frowned immediately at that, looking over at you with a pout. “Cheol,” he corrected you, only slightly whiny as he did so. “Don’t call me Seungcheol...”

You almost laughed at how cute he could be sometimes. Despite being the leader of this rag-tag bunch, he still had his moments where the “strong, responsible” leader melted away and revealed him to be someone stubborn and sweet. You hadn’t seen it during your first week there, and you assumed it was because he was still in his “leader” mode to make sure you were comfortable with your new surroundings. But he wrapped his arms around you two separate times before, complaining about how the others (Seungkwan, once, and another time it had been Chan) wouldn’t tell him that they loved him back. He had smiled, teasingly asking if you’d say it back.

You had laughed a little, but you told him both times that you loved him. He giggled, pressing a kiss to your temple before saying that you were his new favorite. It was sweet. You were glad to have someone like Seungcheol guiding the group.

“Sorry, Cheol,” you said, trying not to laugh at how he was still sulking over your slip-up. “I guess I have a lot on my mind.”

He nodded. “Are you talking to someone here...?”

Shit, would it offend him that you only talked to Seokmin...? “Sometimes Seokmin and I talk,” you confessed. “Is that okay?”

“As long as you have someone you’re comfortable talking to, I’m happy.” He stopped in his work, looking up to meet your gaze. “I know it’s still hard, but we’re all here for you whenever you feel ready to open up.”

You didn’t think before you started to speak. “It’s hard to open up when it feels like no one else wants to.” You tore your gaze away from his, going back into your work. “I mean... Sometimes Seungkwan will talk about his feelings, and so do a few others, but it feels like we’re all still holding everything close to our chests. I know you want us to be open and honest with each other, Cheol, but I think it’ll take more than just telling people we have the space to do so. We’re fourteen people,” you dropped a berry into the basket, and then plucked a dried-up leaf that’d fallen in. “It’s hard to bring up things without feeling out of place,” you tossed it away. “Like we’re intruding. Vulnerability is hard.”

Seungcheol watched you carefully. “Is there a way we can help with that?”

You swallowed the doubt you felt. Hopefully you didn’t cross a line. “Maybe you should lead by example, Cheol,” you finally looked back up to watch him. He was serious now, taking in every word you were saying. So you continued on, “I think we all look up to you. If you talked about what’s on your mind... Maybe it’d help all of us feel more comfortable, too.”

He nodded, letting the words sink in. He reached out, bringing you in to press a kiss against your temple. “I’ll try,” he said, although it felt... too quiet. Too light, too airy. Like it was a lie in its most obvious form, but surely Seungcheol wouldn’t lie so obviously to your face. “If you think that’ll help...”

“I do,” you insisted. “I think he looks up to you a lot. Maybe it could... inspire people, I guess.”

Seungcheol watched you for a moment longer, just studying the way you gazed off into the distance. He knew. “You’re worried about someone.”

“Huh?”

“It’s okay,” he said, voice soft. “But... Mouse?” He smiled, “Promise me you’ll pursue what makes you happy.”

You blinked in confusion, and then once more. “What do you mean?”

Seungcheol didn’t answer you, giving you a gentle pat on the head as he stood up. You could already hear the sound of someone--two people, actually--running through the trees. You looked up to see Seokmin and Soonyoung standing there, smiling and out of breath as they caught sight of you.

The two greeted him casually enough, and then Soonyoung looked at you. “When you’re done, you should come join us--”

“They’re done,” Seungcheol said, casual as can be. You immediately looked toward him, fully aware you had more work to do. “I can carry these inside, Mouse,” Seungcheol told you. He nodded for you to go on, to join the others, and you said nothing.

Soonyoung looked from you to Seungcheol, not oblivious to the fact that you were clearly not finished. But Seokmin held a hand out to you, happy to help you to your feet before he started helping you dust yourself off. He was already explaining the card game he wanted to play with you and Soonyoung, and Soonyoung took one look at Seokmin before it clicked. He met Seungcheol’s eyes, and the leader merely smiled at him and nodded toward the direction of the church.

The three of you headed back toward the church, and Seungcheol noticed the way Seokmin tightly held your hand in his own. He looked back at where you had abandoned your work, and sighed. He shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t take over for you--at least not make a habit of it--but... What was one more day of picking up the slack if it meant you could be happy? He saw the way you lit up when you saw Seokmin had come to find you. If you smiled at him that way...

Seungcheol sighed once more, and smiled to himself. He hoped you’d take his words to heart in the end. Even when he was carrying both your and his parts of the day’s harvest, he could hear the way your laugh carried down from the attic. You were calling Soonyoung a cheater, and trying to get Seokmin (who was laughing, too) onto your side.

He wondered when you’d realize that Seokmin was already right there, and that he’d likely stay right there if you’d let him.

Seungcheol was the first to confess a few days later that he worried about his leadership being enough. He spoke up in the middle of dinner, surprising most of you aside from Jeonghan and Joshua--who seemed to be fully aware of this in advance. Everyone fell in to support him, praising him or giving him critique about how he can do better if he truly felt that he needed it. It led Jihoon to admit he was worried about his own talent. About whether he was chasing something empty by writing so many songs, even though he’d never finish a single one. He felt like he was getting a part of himself back.

Soonyoung understood the feeling. Sometimes when he danced, it felt like he was closer to something. Chan could understand the feeling--as did Jun and Minghao. Hansol could, too, when he worked on his own lyrics.

All Seokmin did was provide support throughout all of it. Not everyone shared something they’d been holding to their chest (Joshua said nothing, and neither did Mingyu or Chan aside from any feelings they could understand), so it didn’t feel obvious that Seokmin was holding something back. But he met your gaze soon enough when you admitted to feeling... incomplete.

“It’s hard to love someone incomplete,” you said. “But I think I understand how other people do it. I just need to learn how to love myself again, I think.”

People loved and supported you in that, just as Seokmin knew they would. Yet...

He wanted to say something. The words were lost in his throat, letters bundled up tight and staying lodged there no matter how he tried to word them. Maybe another night, he told himself. Tonight was everyone else’s night, perhaps. Seokmin didn’t need to add too heavily to it.

Another night, he promised himself. When he was ready.

A few nights later, Seokmin sat with his back against the wall of the church, legs tucked up close to himself. Most nights, it was easy for him to go on a walk to clear his head and cope with the feelings building up. That nasty, bitter taste of not being enough. He made others happy, sure, but what about himself? Seokmin was happy. He loved being there with everyone, with you, but he understood your own plights too well. The desire to remember more, no matter what pain it might bring. Forgetting could be seen as a blessing, especially if the world had ended and left you fourteen behind. Not remembering his mother’s smile or babies he used to make laugh, his school teachers growing up... That would be a blessing, wouldn’t it? Yet he yearned to have part of himself back. Perhaps some might call it selfish, especially if this was it, but he wanted to know.

He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath, and let himself rest a little. To let that happy air down, to make way for a pensive moment just for himself. Yet he heard footsteps, and the quiet groan of someone pulling themself up into the church. The fabric was folded back.

“Seokmin?” You called out to him. Of course it was you. The one person he felt like saw through him and called him on it too often now. You had told him that he could be vulnerable with you: he let you be vulnerable, after all.

“Mouse.” He looked up, forcing a wavering smile as he saw you. This was not how his night was supposed to go, yet he felt the exhaustion build up too high. His walls too short to prevent the onslaught of emotions that were rising further and further inside him. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?”

His smile wavered a little more, the corners of his mouth twitching. Even without his answer, you started making your way over to him, and all he could do was raise up a hand to try and stop you. “I’ll be fine--”

You kneeled before him, and opened up your arms. “C’mere.”

And that was all he needed. He felt his breath catch in his throat, and he immediately dove into your arms and held on tight as he felt the tears well up as words started spilling from his mouth about everything he felt he needed to swallow and keep to himself. His job was to help take care of everyone, to make things happy. That was why he suggested the celebrations. Yet before you, he was reduced down to a whimpering man whose hot tears were staining your shirt as his emotions reached their crest and crashed over his walls. You rubbed circles onto his back, letting him cry as he needed to.

Seokmin wasn’t a man afraid to cry, and you knew that. But when was the last time he let himself truly break down and let everything go? He couldn’t remember.

“It’s hard,” he soon said, voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt. “It’s so hard sometimes...”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Your voice was gentle, no anger or accusations of him hiding things. Just the desire to understand.

His fingers bunched up the fabric of your shirt into his palms, eyes squeezing shut. “Everyone had enough to deal with,” he admitted, breathing evening out. “You had enough to deal with, too. I didn’t want to add to that.”

“Seokmin...” He watched you frown as he drew away from you, his hands resting at your waist. You were so warm and real underneath his fingers. If he let go, would you stay there? Would you disappear into stardust or light, like a lost memory? He liked knowing you were real and right there with him. “It’s okay to struggle,” you finally said, hands covering his own. “You don’t have to struggle alone. We’re all here.” You squeezed his hands. “And I’ll always be here, too, if you aren’t ready to tell the others yet. Or you can talk to Minghao, or Jeonghan, or... or anyone. You don’t have to talk to all of us. But we’re here,” you took his face into your hands, “and we love you, and we want to support you. You just have to let us in.”

He watched you, gaze flickering to your lips for only a moment. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you that he’d fallen for you. Not tonight, he told himself. The time to tell you was later, during a good day. He didn’t want you to think he was confessing because he was upset and not thinking straight. You deserved to know just how much he’d grown to love you.

His lip quivered, though, and he felt the warmth of being loved rise in his chest. He squeezed your hips again, and shut his eyes as you leaned in, lips grazing his forehead.

“We’re right here,” you promised. “All you have to do is ask.”

He loved you. It was all he could think about: he loved you with everything he had. He knew that was the kind of person he was. “I know,” he breathed. “It’s just... hard. Everyone’s hurting,” he said quietly. “It’s hard to take care of yourself when others’ have worse problems.”

“I know.” You sank down a little further to be on eye level with him. “But it’s okay to admit you’re hurting, too. It’s not a competition.”

He nodded. Despite the ache in his chest, the pain of being vulnerable that peeked through the warm love he carried for you, he could feel other thoughts clouding his mind. The desire to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you and be vulnerable in a different way. “Thank you for being here,” he said instead. I love you. Please don’t leave me alone. “Can you cuddle with me tonight?”

Seokmin watched the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. “Of course,” you had said, “If that’s what you want. I’m happy to be here for you.”

He held you tight in his arms that night, as if you’d disappear if he let you go. Despite confusing dreams of tired nights and days with hot, heavy lights pointed at him (maybe his thought that he was an actor in his past life wasn’t too far off, after all), you served to be his guiding light. The person who made him feel complete as he was, like life was crystal clear when you were around. He missed so many things about himself, yet those feelings seemed bearable when you were right there with him. He woke up when Minghao curled up close to him, an arm draped around him as a reminder that he wasn’t alone. That everyone in that room loved him.

If he was the sun, then you were the moon: reflecting the light back to him and reminding him that he wasn’t the only star in the sky.

Being vulnerable with you was hard in itself. But he spoke up days later, fully admitting to the others during dinner that he felt.. lesser. Like he had to make up for everything by carrying the burdens of everyone else. It was met with genuine care and conversation in return. No moments of making him feel like his feelings were wrong, like he shouldn’t feel like that.

“You’ve brought us all a lot of joy and comfort,” Seungcheol told him gently. “We want to be here for you, too.”

Everyone agreed. Even you, who pretended that you hadn’t heard any of this before, gave him a reassuring smile. He whispered to you to meet him in the attic half an hour after the group dispersed, before he disappeared to talk with a few others a little more. The full group had listened and validated him, yet Seungkwan had asked him to sit with him and a few others a little while longer. They, too, felt the guilt of wanting to remember despite knowing that forgetting could have been a blessing.

“I think being honest is hard,” he admitted to them. Hansol had nodded along as Seokmin continued, “but I think I need to start being completely open from now on. Even when it’s hard.”

Soonyoung knew. “Then you should go wait for them,” he hugged his knees close to him. “Right? That’s what you wanted to do.”

Seokmin hesitated. “I don’t want it to seem like I’m running away from you all--”

“You don’t,” Hansol said. “Go confess or whatever,” he smiled. “We’ll all be here for you whenever you want to talk more, alright?”

He was thankful for people who understood. Seokmin returned to the church, climbing up into that sun room. You hadn’t come up, thankfully, giving him time to think about what he wanted to say it. Should he even say it? He didn’t want to waste time anymore. He needed you to know how he felt. If he waited, he’d back down and make up excuses for a “better time” in a world where they never knew what day would be their last.

So he had to do this. He had to tell you.

He could hear the ladder buckle slightly, the sound of you making your way up it. Soon enough, you peeked over the top, and then climbed in to face him. His name was already on your lips when he turned to face you, back to that sun-window that was painting the room in orange hues from the dying light of day.

“I love you.” He watched your eyes widen in surprise, and steeled his nerves. “You make me feel confident in myself. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I would have decided to open up like this to the others. And I know it’s sudden, but I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

“I... love you, too?” You paused. “Seokmin--”

“Not in that way,” he said. He knew he’d said it before to everyone. He’d heard you say it, too. “I’m in love with you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” he curled his fingers into his palm. Stay strong. Tell them outright. “I just wanted you to know that I love you and I’m glad you stayed. I... I don’t think my world would be the same without you. Thank you for being you.”

You took a slow step toward him, and then another. “Seokmin, I...”

His chest ached at a lack of response. Maybe it was foolish, but he needed to tell you. If he didn’t, he felt like holding that feeling in forever would kill him. “It’s okay,” he said. “I understand--”

And then you kissed him, closing that distance too quick for him to process. His hands fell to your hips, holding you against him as he kissed you back. He shut his eyes, savoring the warm feeling of your body against him. Yet you pressed a little harder against him, and he staggered back, almost falling onto that bed as he steadied you. You drew back, barely getting a chance to apologize before he pulled you back in for another kiss.

You drew away fully soon enough. “I love you, too, by the way,” you smiled at him. “Thank you for being my sunshine.”

He felt his face heat up. “Can I... kiss you again?” He almost felt bad for not asking before, but you had stolen the first kiss. Was it a crime to steal one in return?

He’d steal as many kisses from you as he could, in the end. He didn’t have to convince you to stay with him up there for the night, just so he could hold you close without anyone else intruding. Other nights he could sleep with you close and someone else nearby, because Seokmin was more than okay with still cuddling with the others (he was a touchy person, after all). He just wanted to fall asleep with you next to him for once, and maybe again in the future when he wanted to steal you away for alone time. Your head rested on his shoulder, arm draped across his chest as he held you close.

“Are you still awake?” His voice was quiet in the calm of the night, and he felt you stir a little next to him. He almost wanted to call your name to ask again, but you yawned and settled back in next to him. “Thank you for being my night.”

He could feel you smile against his chest. If you’d be the calm night to end the day, he’d be your morning sunshine from now on.

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