"I LOVE YOU MORE!!"

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TOGE INUMAKI X F! READER SMAU

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt12.5, pt13, pt14, pt15, pt16, pt17, pt18, pt19, pt20, pt21, pt22

A/N just wanna say THANK YOUUUUU for all the love and support i received on this series omg i was not expecting it to pick up the way it did. will forever love these losers and i will definitely make cute little bonus chapters in the future :) i already have a few ideas for that. ANYWAYSS THANKS FOR MAKING IT TO THE END

Pt.23 “It's All For You"

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

TAGLIST: @love-me-satoru @strxwberrycandi @slutlight2ndver @restrictionsapply @lloversss @b1borian @geektastic84 @tenthmilo @entr4p3 @reblogwhoreowo @idexmids @uracutieraka @linaaeatsfamilies @tbfaptbfae @megumikeeptalkingimalmostthere @samisfunky @choso-loverrr @cloca-cola @vamppirez @syarc0re @angel04-01 @daizyysdumb @ventraia @2dmenfr @adrnmyknight @blueghostgirl1 @aphroditesworld15 @alisoncdariel @bumi-writes @aikojwhpa @swoozleee @rougetv @mixissecretjournal @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry

did you put apollo justice in HELL???

sorry he was an angel and confessed his undying love to klavier a few episodes before the season ended 😔

I want to tell Inumaki that he is Perfect. He is so expressive and loving even if he can't communicate...I feel like he would be sad for not being enough BUT LIKE HE IS THE NICEST IN WHOLE WORLD 😭😭😭😭 cryin rn

I was feeling really down, but writing this made me feel better, so thank you anon for sending this lovely little idea in.

CW: Shibuya spoilers, mentions of past injury, loss of limb, hurt/comfort, implied depression, insecurity, scars, non-sexual nudity

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“Hey baby, I’m back.”

You called out to your boyfriend as you stepped into your shared apartment. There was no response, but his shoes were in the doorway and his coat was hanging on his hook. Padding into the living space you still couldn’t find him.

“Hey, babe? Toge?”

Concerned you call out again. You knew things were rough for him right now with the five year anniversary of the loss of his arm coming up next week, but you hoped it wasn’t bad enough for him to run off.

The thought caused panic to bubble in you, your chest constricting as you hurriedly went to check the bedroom. The room was a mess, pictures and random scraps of paper strewn about. Picking up a few near the entrance, you realized that they were artifacts of your high school days. Pictures of you and Toge on dates, hanging out with the other second years, and sweet notes he wrote for you made up the mess scattered across the plush carpet.

Then your heart sank. As you surveyed the whirlwind of memories, you realized that they all had something in common. They were all from before the Shibuya Incident. Before he lost his arm.

Following the sound of running water, you pick your way across the room and push open the bathroom door. A blast of steam hits you in the face as you flip the lights and fan on. There he was.

He was sitting in the shower still wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, unresponsive as the near scalding water cascaded down on him. Without a second thought you peel off your shirt and socks before climbing into the shower with him. Crouching before him, you gently brush his sopping bangs out of his eyes.

“Hey babe. Found you.”

You smile softly at him, cupping his face with your right hand. He doesn’t respond, but he leans slightly into your touch.

“Can I hold you?”

You keep your voice gentle and quiet, your heart breaking for him. A slight, barely perceptible nod was the only sign that he even heard you. Maneuvering so you were sitting beside him, you wrap one arm around his back and lean against him. After a moment, he tilts his head so it’s resting on yours.

Sitting in silence, you give him the space and time he needs. After a long stretch of time, he pulls away and turns so you are facing him. You place your hand on his knee and squeeze it, silently telling him that you’re there for him, and he can take all the time he needs.

Clumsily, he begins signing with his remaining hand.

Why are you still with me?

Of all the things he could have asked or said, this was not one of the things you would have anticipated. You take a moment to think. Then you reply simply and bluntly, wanting to make sure that he understood what you were saying.

“Because you’re you. And I love you.”

He looks frustrated and his signing becomes jerkier as he speeds up.

But look at me!

He makes a vague gesture towards his entire body.

“I am. And all I see is the man I love.”

You have an idea where this is coming from, but you want to wait until he says it because the idea that he would think so lowly of himself physically pained you.

But I’m useless! His shoulders slump and he repeats the hand motion. Useless. 

“You’re not useless.”

You say firmly. 

“Not even in the slightest.”

I am though. 

The haunted look of self-loathing looked unnatural on his gorgeous face. 

I’m practically useless as a jujutsu sorcerer. I already have this technique that hurts me more than it helps others. Now I can’t even make up for my weakness with my physical ability because I lost my arm. 

Tears join the shower water dripping down his face.

And not only am I a worthless jujutsu sorcerer, I’m a pathetic boyfriend. I can’t hold you, the person I love more than anything else in this world, in my arms. I’m not strong enough to protect you. Hell I can’t even tell you I love you with my words! 

He averts his gaze to the water going down the drain.

And on top of all that, I’m selfish. I know I’m worthless. I know I’m not good enough for you, but I need you. I’m not a good enough person to let you go.

Finally done, his hand dropped to his side with a small splash.

“Hey.”

Your voice is loving, but insistent as you speak.

“Look at me.”

He complies, his lovely violet eyes dark and hopeless.

“You told me to look at you earlier. And I am. Do you know what I see?”

A pathetic man who-

You continue talking, ignoring him.

“I see the man I fell in love with in high school. He’s grown up and changed, but at heart he’s the same person.”

You caress his cheek, looking deep into his eyes.

“His face has sharpened and become more handsome.”

He shuddered against your palm as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and jawline.

“His eyes show that he’s seen and experienced indescribable horrors. He’s lost that innocence. But I love him all the more for it. Because I’ve changed too. I’ve lost my innocent belief that we are untouchable. I’ve become harsher, more pessimistic, and less emotional. But you know what’s in my heart?”

You take his hand and place it on your chest. Quietly he watches you, and you can see that your words are starting to penetrate the self-hatred clouding his mind.

“In here lives the silly teenage girl who thought that she and all her loved ones were untouchable, invincible. The girl who cared too much about anything and anyone. The girl who spent hours daydreaming about going on romantic dates with her white haired classmate that always had a mischievous spark in his eyes. The girl who kept a meticulous journal of her dream wedding to a boy with purple eyes and beautiful markings around his mouth.”

The corners of Inumaki’s mouth lifted a miniscule amount and his eyes softened as he remembered. Encouraged, you reach behind you and turn the water off. Continuing to speak, you begin removing his soaked sweatpants.

“As for your inability to tell me that you love me with your words, that has never bothered me.”

Placing the sweatpants beside you to deal with later, you gently tug on his arm until he stands and steps out of the shower.

“Honestly, I like it better that way.”

He shoots you a disbelieving look at your words, but allows you to dry him off before helping him into a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants.

“Really, I do. It’s so easy to say the words ‘I love you’ and not mean them at all. It’s a lot harder to fake it or lie if you have to express them through your actions. The way you worked so hard everyday to make sure I knew how you felt made me feel even more secure and loved than a few shallow words could.”

You quickly dry yourself off and change into a fresh pair of panties and a new shirt. Leading out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, you sit in the middle of your bed and lay a towel across your lap before patting it. Obediently he laid down and put his head on your lap. You began drying his hair.

“You’re special, Toge. You express yourself through physical touch and acts of service, and have never verbally said the words ‘I love you’ to me, but let me tell you. Not once, in the five and a half years we’ve been dating, have I doubted for even a second that you loved me. Do you understand? I don’t need you to be able to say the words to me. I already know.”

After you finished drying his hair, he sat up and faced you.

But what about my arm? Do you really want to be with me still? I’m disfigured and disabled.

The look in your eyes is so tender he can barely stand it. Why? Why do you look at him with such love and affection? 

“Toge.”

You breathe, the look on your face telling him that you knew exactly what was running through his mind.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because of these.”

You squeeze his bicep.

“I fell in love with you because of this.”

You tap his temple.

“And because of this.”

You lay your palm flat against his chest. Looking up at him, he can see the sincerity shining in your eyes.

“I love you for you, Toge. You could be the ugliest, most ratchet mf to ever roam the face of the planet and I would still love you. Because you will always be my person. And I hope that I’ll always be yours.”

He nods, smiling at your word choice as tears well in his eyes, relief hitting him like a freight train as you managed to say exactly what he needed to hear. Tugging your arm, you help him pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he buries his face in your neck as you drape your arms around his neck and card through his hair.

He presses repeated kisses against the crook of your neck, each one a silent apology for doubting the love you shared.

You rested your cheek against his soft white hair and took comfort in the intimacy of the moment. Kissing the side of his head, you whisper the words you so desperately want him to engrain into his soul and never forget.

“You, Inumaki Toge, are perfect. Just the way you are.”

JJK men reconciling with you .ᐟ

❥ ft. gojo satoru, nanami kento, geto suguru, itadori yuji

synopsis: they’re a little more eager to reconcile than you think.

A/N: this was a request! let’s be real, who is not jumping at the idea of getting back with THE nanami.

Could I get a Mysmes Highschool AU please? Including Jihyun and Saeran if you don't mind  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。

yes!! this is such a cute idea~ for the sake of it let’s assume all of the mysme gang go to the same high school :D

YOOSUNG:

* He’s the kid that’s always friendly and bright when you approach him, but he’ll never come up to you first; he’ll always shout out a ‘good morning!’ when coming into the class each day, and he’ll have his own little raggedy friend group (that majorly consists of guys-he’s just too shy around girls!)

*People always say he’s nice and sweet but…that’s pretty much it. No one knows his favorite colour, what he wants to be when he grows up, if he gets along with his family…

*Well, MC decides to approach him-they’d always been friendly with him but at a distance, and something in his eye makes them want to bridge this gap between them.

*Turns out, he’s actually an absoloute sweetheart like everyone says, but he’s also so much more than that! He’s funny and bright, but beats himself up a lot-he’s a good student but lazy, and without someone to cheer him on and push him to keep up a scedhule he gets lost.

*So MC takes it upon themselves to convince him to have weekly study dates with him, rewarding themselves with cold sweet milkshakes after a job-well done; neither of them would admit it, but they’re absoloutely falling for eachother with each meeting.

*Yoosung would NEVER confess so-he’s so scared! All his friends at school tease him and ‘threaten’ to tell MC themselves if he doesn’t, but he just grumbles an excuse and leaves when they do-how could he possibly ruin this thing he has with MC because of his stupid feelings?

*Well, someone eventually spills the beans to MC because duh, it’s a high school, word gets around faster than you can say ‘pop quiz’-so MC takes it upon themselves to confess in their next study date.

*They don’t become the cutest couple at school or anything, but their friends are all very happy for them-and even teachers turn a blind eye if they catch Yoosung giving a quick kiss to MC during breaks, because well, that’s young love for ‘ya.

ZEN:

*Yes, yes, he’s the hottest guy in school (for this AU let’s say he never dropped out but he did leave his home, so he’s living on his own and works part time jobs and gets whatever acting gig he can whenever possible).

*He’s a bit of a…semi-deliquent? He’s the guy you’ll find smoking under the bleachers, be it cigarettes or weed, but he’s not a junkie nor a bully-he’s actually a very gentle and caring guy, smart too-he doesn’t study much but when exam season rolls around he tries his best to at least get semi-decent grades so he can have a good CV when looking for jobs later on.

*No one knows about his family situation-he’s kind yes, but he keeps everyone at a distance, scared of letting them get too close. 

*Jumin does know about Zen, mainly because Zen’s friends with V who’s the type of guy people just tell everything to-and Jumin tries to help Zen, often just by shoving money to Zen’s face which…really doesn’t help.

*Well, MC meets Zen once outside of school when they start working at the convinience store he also works at! They’d never talked to him at school-girls would constantly flock around him and fawn and whilst MC thought he’s attractive sure, they just never made the effort to talk to him.

*Turns out, he’s actually a hilarious guy with a temper-do NOT get him started on how much he hates ‘capitalist-loving pigs’ as he so calls them, and the curses he throws out whenever their manager isn’t looking are enough to make MC snort with laughter.

*They become fast friends, and whenever Zen sees MC at school he’ll wave and come their way to talk to them-which gets them both a lot of weird stares and glares. It’s not like anyone will come and bully MC for talking with Zen or anything, this isn’t the movies, but people are constantly asking how they know Zen, which they never grace with an answer-their extra-curricular activities are not something everyone should be privy to.

*One night they both work later than their shift ends, busy stocking up and running the monthly checks, and by the time they’re done it’s well past midnight-and they have school tomorrow.

*Zen offers MC to stay at his place for the night-he lives a five minute walk away from the store, and he’d hate to leave his friend alone to walk back home when there’s fewer buses and trains at this hour.

*So this is how MC discovers Zen lives alone-they don’t pry, but he tells them everything anyway, finally giving in and letting himself trust MC-and this is also how the two get together. 

*One minute they’re on Zen’s couch laughing over one thing or the other, the next they’re kissing, Zen’s hand cradling MC’s cheek.

*The next morning when they both go to school, MC wearing one of Zen’s t-shirts as an undershirt to their school uniform…well, let’s just say there’s a LOT of jealous people around lmao 

*(But still, no one dares say anything to MC-Zen is NOT known for his patience, and if anyone hurts his beloved then one glare from Zen is enough to send them to an early grave really)

JAEHEE:

*She’s the quiet kid-you know the one. She’s always buried in her books, sits in the front of the class (not by choice, not really-she just has bad eyesight lmao), her hair’s short because she thinks long hair’s a hassle, and has one or two superficial friends but that’s pretty much it.

*Well, one day she comes into class during a break only to find MC holding back tears as they look down at a book on their desk.

*Jaehee cautiously approaches and notices MC’s struggling with a math equation-one of the ones their teacher had assigned as homework, she reckons.

*With a soft smile she asks MC if they’d like Jaehee to sit with them-no ‘i can teach you’ or anything, she merely wants to sit beside them and cheer them on, and only offers her help if asked.

*And that’s how the two become friends. Jaehee’s not used to the affection MC shows them, how they’ll sit with them during breaks and bring them their favorite drink or snack from the cantine, how they’ll often invite them out after classes and wrap their hand around Jaehee’s shoudlers-she’ll never admit it but she was fast to develop a crush on MC, and her feelings terrify her.

*One day they’re at a park by MC’s place, sitting on the swings talking about their future. MC talks with bright eyes about all the plans they have after graduating, some completely absurd, others attainable with hard enough work and dedication.

* “What about you Jaehee? What do you want to do after graduating?” MC asks, their focus on Jaehee as they snap her out of her trance.

*What Jahee wants…? She thinks of her dream, the little coffee house with music and laughter, the smell of fresh grinded coffee beans and her behind the counter with an apron on and her hair long and tied into braids, how she’ll have regular customers she knows by name, how she’ll have someone she loves beside her-someone like MC-

* “I’ll just be an office worker I guess” she shrugs, avoiding MC’s bright gaze. That makes MC pout, getting off of the swing to sit in front of Jaehee on their knees, their hands on Jaehee’s lap, holding her own palms tight.

*MC tells Jaehee to think of what she truly wants, how she should never settle when she has dreams to follow and work on, how she owes her future to no one but herself-and maybe MC had more to say, but Jaehee will never know; for in that moment a surge of courage pushed them forward, leaning in and kissing MC mid-speech.

*They seperated quick enough, Jahee’s eyes wide, her mouth agape-would MC hate her now? Would they get up and leave? Would they-

* “That was wonderful” MC said with a grin, “but that doesn’t mean you’re excused from this conversation.”

*Anyway this is a long winded way of saying the two become the sweetest freaking couple their school has ever seen lmao

JUMIN:

*He’s…also a popular guy, but for all the opossite reasons than Zen.

*People say he’s cool and mysterious, handsome to boot and richer than the queen of england. There’s all sorts of rumors surrounding him that he never adresses, which only add fuel to the fire.

*Some girls even start calling him ‘Mr.Grey’ after *that* film comes out, which makes him really confused. He doesn’t even like the colour…? Has he ever worn a grey tie he doesn’t remember?

*Anyway, he’s secluded yes, and quiet, his only friend that’s by his side at all times being V, who’s honestly equal parts mysterious as he is handsome.

*The two emit an aura that makes them unapproachable, so people just…don’t try to get close to them, and that’s that.

*MC’s one of those people, until one day, their art teacher splits them into groups of three people to create a photography project-something about light or whatever, MC wasn’t really paying attention. They’d already turned their head towards their friends with a smile and a wink, knowing they’d spend their ‘study time’ playing and gossiping…

*….until their teacher announced they’d be seperating people into groups themselves. And lo and behold-MC had ended up in a group with Jumin-yes, just Jumin since their class was an odd number. Their teacher said they’d have more time than the others since they were only two, but there was no changing groups, that was their definite rule.

*So after class ended, MC timidly approached Jumin-who was…way more polite than they’d thought. He greeted them with a handshake of all things, and told them to meet him at his home that very same day in the afternoon to discuss their ‘plan of action’ as he called it.

*He was odd, that much was sure, but there was a sort of cuteness to his actions, like a child trying to imitate an adult.

*Well, going to his home was…an experience. It’s everything you see in the movies and more, from a massive gateway to bodyguards taking MC up to Jumin’s study hall, to a maid coming by to ask what the two would like to drink and eat.

*Jumin’s nice enough, albeit cold and distant, but there’s something about this whole situation that kept bothering MC. With a small frown they quietly asked “Jumin, are your parents home?”

*He seemed taken aback by the question, his facade fading momentarily before he schooled himself back into a neutral expression. “I only have a father, and no, he’s not home at the moment.”

*MC nodded. “You think he’ll be home soon?” they asked. Jumin seemed…irk at the question, his lips tugging downwards.

* “I’m not sure. He’s a busy man, it might be a few days before he returns home. Why do you ask?”

*Their next words shocked Jumin to hsi core, his eyes wide as he looked to the timid person across of him. 

* “It’s nothing I just…I’m worried you seem lonely.”

*Jumin never adressed the comment, merely carried on working on their plan for their art project, but it stuck with him-and it was in fact, the reason he allowed MC to slowly get closer to him.

*When they decided on what their project would be-the different ways sunlight hits trees from morning until evening, they set out on a camping trip that very same weekend, which showed MC a whole new side to Jumin-the man beneath the suits, the teenager who wore jeans and shirts, who knew how to light a fire with sticks, who was awed when he learnt what smore were and ate so many he gave himself a stomachache.

*That night in the forest as they awaited sunrise to take more pictures, Jumin poured his heart out to MC-his fears, his relationship with his father, how he worries he’ll grow up to be just like him, how he values family in a way his father doesn’t seem to share-and before he knew it he was resting his head on MC’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined just as their lives had become.

*His life would never be the same after meeting this person with their keen eyes and gentle heart.

SEVEN/SAEYOUNG/LUCIEL:

*Again, for the sake of this HC, we’ll assume Seven lives with Saeran and his mom who neglects them, and goes to the same high school as the rest of the RFA-he knows about hacking and does it as a part-time job to gather money, but he’s not an agent (yet..?)

*He’s a very weird guy-one moment he’s bright and cheerful and the next he’s solemn and cold, which doesn’t leave him with many friends, and even less people who actually care and want to find out what’s wrong, if he’s okay or needs any help.

*He’s often seen huddled with his twin-the two are practically inseperable, even though they’re in different classrooms, it’s rare to spot them away from each other druing break times, and they always seem to linger when school’s over, as if they dread going back home.

*Well, MC isn’t the type of person who’ll leave someone like that on their own. They’re concerned, no, more than that, they’re worried and need to know if Saeyoung’s alright, if he needs any help-there’s something about him that just puts them on edge, and they want to figure it out more than anything else.

*Well, trying to get close to Saeyoung is about as hard as Hercules’s trials; he’s friendly enough sure, sharing memes and joking about, but the moment a conversation becomes more serious he vanishes, finding some flimsy excuse to disappear before he needs to open up about anything. 

*But MC is relentless, and the more they learn about Saeyoung, every little bit of himself that he dares share-from his favorite colour (orange, he says, like the sunset), to his little quirks and habits (he bites his nails, he speaks so fast he stumbles over words, he’s genius to a fault but has a hard time reading-words seem to get jumbled up-), all the little things that make Saeyoung himself just swell up and fill MC’s heart and before they knew it-they’re in love.

*Saeyoung’s no fool, he knows MC likes him-and that makes him push them away all the more. Saeran notices his brothers conflicting emotions but says nothing, worried he’ll only make things worse.

*One day he snaps. MC confessed to him, and rather than saying ‘I don’t like you back’, he said ‘I can’t do this’, prodding a myriad of questions from MC.

* “Why? What is it you can’t do-Saeyoung, what are you hiding-”

* “Everything!” he yells-his hands are balled into fists, his back trembles, his eyes swell with tears; this person in front of him, the one he loves back, that’s so close yet so far-how can he drag them down into his own hell? “My family’s a fucking mess, my dad would rather have me dead, I’m barely surviving and-I’ve been doing fine, I’ve been coping but then you came along and put everything into your own unique chaos and-and I should push you away, I should I should but I can’t-”

*MC held him as he broke down in the empty school courtyard, his head resitng on their chest as he cried himself into fatigue. MC protected him from stray gazes of students finishing their EC activities, glared at whoever tried to approach them.

*They kissed his forehead, running their hands through his hair as he sighed at the action. “I’ll protect you Sae. Both you and Saeran, I promise-I’ll do everything I can to help you. No one will ever hurt you two. No one.”

SAERAN:

*Similar to Saeyoung, he’s a weird character, and one few people dare approach. He seems cold and distant, and unlike his brother doesn’t joke around even for pretense’s sake. He’s rumored to have beat up people more than once, some even saying he’s a hired mercenary, although that’s a fat stretch of a lie at best, and a malicious intent to spread gossip about Saeran at most.

*In truth-he’s none of those things. MC knows, because his gentle eyes had caught their attention since day one, and they’ve been noticing the little bits and pieces that make him the Saeran they bid as kind and gentle-how they’ll cower their head at loud noises, how he’ll trail his fingers over leaves and petals of the courtyards’ plants as he walks by-they even saw him watering them once, but were pretty sure he’s not in the gardening club-they were the head of that club after all.

*With that in mind, MC had eventually gathered up their courage and approached Saeran, who seemed frazzled at their sudden approach to his desk. They introduced themselves as the head of the gardening club and asked if he’d be interested in joining them with a bright grin.

*Saeran was wide eyed and tense, but never graced them with an answer-at that moment his twin brother Saeyoung came to the classroom’s door and called out to Saeran, who graciously took the chance to hop out of his seat and leave before MC could utter another word.

*Only then did MC notice they had caught the attention of the entire classroom, only when the twins left and the chatter returned in the room had they realised how quiet everyone had fallen when MC approached Saeran.

*That evening at the gardening club, MC was restless, their hands fiddling with the water hose they’d been using to water the trees around the garden. Had they been too straight-forward? Too intense? They only wanted to befriend the guy, not scare the heebie jeebies out of him….

*They were shaken out of their thoughts when a timid knock came to the door, a familiar pair of golden eyes looking to them with a furious blush on pale cheeks.

*Saeran stood there, his fists trembling. “Um-I’d-I want to join…?”

*MC hates to admit it, but they were so shocked they forgot they were holding an open wate hose-so they turned with such force and excitement they ended up losing control of the hose, dousing themselves with tons of water before a giggling club member turned it off and took it from their hands.

*Even soaking wet and cold, they merely shook water off of their hair as they waltzed to the door, extending a hand towards Saeran.

* “Welcome to the gardening club!” they cheered, and just like that-Saeran graced them with a small little smile that was enough to melt glaciers off of the North Pole.

V/JIHYUN:

*V is the epitomy of ‘gentle and handsome’. He’s the president of the class, firm yet gentle, his smile hiding a menace, each word calculated and cool.

*MC…they didn’t know how, but they knew this was a facade. They knew it. He was nice enough, never giving them a reason to think he’s not who he seems, but there was something twisting in their gut whenevr Jihyun smiled at them, something that said not all is as it seems.

*In the next class elections-Jihyun had been elected president once again, and surprisingly, MC had been elected vice president, which meant they’d be working closely with Jihyun, having to frequently meet him after class to discuss plans and class budgets.

*For their first meeting, he suggested MC comes to his place, since it was the closest one from school, and he had the necessary materials there already since he’d been class president plenty times before already.

*Seeing Jihyun outside of school, at home-seeing him greet his father with cold hard eyes, that gave MC the confirmation they needed-that Jihyun isn’t all that he seems to be.

*As they silently worked on the class budget, MC saw something in the numbers that made them frown.

* “Um, Jihyun-don’t you think our budget for art supplies is really low? Surely we can increase it a bit no?” they asked.

*Jihyun looked up from his papers with wide eyes, his facade cracking before he laughed, rubbing at his eyes as MC stared on in confusion.

* “I’m sorry, it was mean of me to laugh-but increase the budget for art? It’s such a useless thing-there’s no need for it. Besides, no one’s complained about it before.”

* That only made MC’s confusion grow, their frown deepening. Jihyun must’ve caught on as he moved his hand across the table to gently rest over MC’s knuckles.

* “Don’t worry too much about it-if we see there’s an increased demand for it, wihch I doubt, we’ll cut a bit from the rest of the supplies and icrease that. Okay?”

* MC nodded, but remained cautious. The way he looked down on the arts-was he always like this? Something felt…off. They knew deep in their bones that Jihyun couldn’t-wasn’t a bad person, but there was something tying them back, a grudge, or so it seemed…and they were determined to find out.

-this got very out of hand and the final stories almost developed into full fledged fics lol, I’m sorry for the sharp ending! If you’d like to see more, or individualised fics for each character-you can send in another prompt, or consider comissioning me for a lengthier fic (rules/info here) <33

-Send me a mystic messenger headcanon for character reactions!-

Strange question, but do you think Annie could make Armin cry?💧In a bad way. During an argument or something like that…

Hello!

Not a strange question at all - and I definitely think YES. Armin wears his heart on his sleeve; with Annie he expresses his emotions very openly, and in time, probably without any restraint whatsoever. This level of trust would mean that he doesn't hesitate to cry in front of her, at a (good) time when he's feeling vulnerable and she's there to hold him.

Then, during a fight, with emotions obviously running high and volatile, it's highly possible that Annie, in her strained anger, says something she doesn't mean to say (or on the other hand, doesn't say something he wants to know), and Armin cries. It could either be after she's gone from the vicinity, or if its a particularly bad fight, then right there, in front of her, even if he tries his hardest to hold his tears.

It's going to be heartbreaking to say the least, with him probably feeling pathetic in consequence, and Annie feeling guilty and "bad" for making him cry with hurt.

You know, it kinda kills me to know that there are literal TONS of fanfiction from the korean fanbase I couldn't read because of a language barrier. The analyses and ideas people talk about regarding Yoosung, Jumin, Zen, V, Jaehee, Rika, Seven, and Saeran.

I'm dying for more content is what I'm saying. Informative and fictional. I'll grab just about anything now.

The Day He Realized He Wanted to Marry You (Unknown)

Marriage was a distant thought to Saeran. He never really considered it. With everything that’s happened, really, it’s the last thing he could even begin thinking of. That was fine, you never pushed him to jump into anything he wasn’t ready for. 

He could remember the day he changed his mind though, or at least, felt a shift in his heart. 

At the time, some days were better than others. And when they weren’t… they really weren’t.

His brother had to be out of town for an entire week, and so, the two of you figured to stay at your place for a few days. 

He had a terrible time falling asleep. Too many thoughts in his head. Thoughts such as, if you wake up one day and decided you didn’t want to bear his burden with him, well, he wouldn’t blame you. Thoughts such as, the longer he spends with you, the more he’d ruin you. Thoughts such as, he wanted to be okay. Just for a day. To be okay so you wouldn’t have a hard time.

A nightmare came for him that night. Nothing gruesome. Or perhaps it was. He couldn’t remember anymore. All he knew was that he grasped for your presence, only to wake up and realize you were gone.

His heart leapt to his throat and he ripped his sheet away to reach for his phone on your nightstand. A text message read: Heeeey, I had to leave super early. I have to deal with an emergency. Didn’t want to wake you. Tell me when you’re up though!

He was frustrated, immediately. First, at you, for leaving so early, then at himself, for thinking such things. It’s fine, he’ll deal with it. He had to learn to deal with his emotions by himself. He had to learn to be stronger for you.

His mood didn’t improve throughout the day. Even when he did some work to get his mind off of it.

Saeran slammed his laptop shut and leaned back on the couch. From his seat, he spotted the trash can. It was filled to the brim. Not only that, it couldn’t even close with how much trash there was. He remembered telling you to take that out 2 days ago, why is it still there?

The door clicked open then and you strode inside with a bag of groceries. “Oh hi, you’re up. Didn’t you see my text?”

He did. He didn’t really want to reply.

His lack of reply didn’t deter you. “I ran into an old classmate on the way home, she’s inviting me to a party, but honestly we weren’t even that close so I don’t know if I should go. I remember she once told me I had weird legs…” 

As you narrated your day, you organized the groceries.

Saeran was only half listening. The other half was sitting in a boiling pot of anger and frustration.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked when you noticed his unnatural silence. “Sorry that dinner is taking so long, do you want to eat something while you wait?”

Saeran rolled his eyes. “You know what I want? I want you to take out the trash already. It’s been a full 24 hours since I asked you to take it out and there it is. I can’t believe you can live in this kind of mess!”

“Oh, well I—”

“You’ve been walking around in the kitchen for nearly an hour, you don’t notice how the trash doesn’t even close anymore? You remember what your aunt said about your shirt 3 weeks ago but you can’t remember to take out the trash you see everyday? Grow up!”

He watched the expression on your face melt from surprise and confusion into quiet vitriol. Your breath heaved. His throat tightened. Then, came the tears. Your lips quivering with words you refused to release. Only then did he realize he’s gone too far.

Without a word, you put the potholder down on the counter and pull the trash bag out of the can and tie it off nicely. You crossed the room.

“MC, I—”

You held a hand up to stop him before grabbing your wallet and keys. “I love you, but I need a moment,” you told him before you walked out the door.

Saeran’s heart dropped to his gut when he heard the door shut. This was bad. This was really bad. You’ve had arguments before but this was the first time he’s seen you so angry you couldn’t even speak. 

He should go after you. Wait. No. That would be worse. You’ll be back. Right? What you said earlier definitely means you’ll come back. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Saeran bolted out the door. Looking both ways on the street. You were nowhere to be found. 

He messed up big time. Why is he like this? Why her? Of all people why her?

Walking back inside, he tried not to panic. He should call you. His eyes jumped to the couch where his phone sat. He dialed your number only to discover that you had left your phone on the dinner table.

His fault. His fault. His fault. He’s shit. His fault. His fault. You left. It’s his fault. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Not your fault. Not your fault. 

Saeran curled himself up on the wall next to the door.

He doesn’t know for how long he sat there. This wasn’t the first time this has happened. He’s snapped before…but… you always stayed. 

You always stayed…

The door clicked open and he sprang out of the ground.

There you were. Despite your insistence to look indifferent, the spot of redness under your eyes betrayed you. He did this to you. His fault. His fault. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it, I promise. I…I’m not okay… I’m not okay. It’s not your fault. I took it out on you and I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave again.” Tears started flowing down your cheeks and nails dug into his heart. He wanted to touch you. Was he allowed to touch you? Please just don’t leave.  “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’ll do anything, just… I really didn’t—”

THWACK!

A cold object collided with his chest and landed on the ground. Saeran looked down and it was a packet of popsicle ice cream. He bent down to pick it up. When he looked up at you, you had wiped away your tears and had a pout on your face.

“Just eat your ice cream.”

Saeran hasn’t heard a louder I love you.

If your still doing requests would it be ok for Chigiri x Ego Sister or Just Chigiri x Fem Reader in general?! I adore him as a character all together and I just need more Chigiri Hyoma content!! Like why does no one write for this man for real?

chigiri is 100% one of the more underrated characters in blue lock! i was so sad when i saw there wasn't a lot of stuff for him when i started watching blue lock ;v; thank you for requesting <3333

ᵐʸ ʳᵃⁱⁿᵇᵒʷ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵃⁱⁿʸ ᵈᵃʸ !!

you watched your boyfriend of six months sit in his room, staring at nothing.

his once, lovely, reddish-pink hair was tangled and ruffled, not having been washed for a while, and his skin looked paler than it was when you last saw him a week ago.

you had gotten a call from his mother, asking you with a teary voice if you could come and visit him after school to at least get him to shower and eat something. anything to take care of himself and make him a little more vibrant than he was now.

looking at hyoma now, you weren't sure if you could do it.

you didn't know how much your support would mean to him, if it meant anything at all. the two of you really haven't been dating for long when the accident happened, and hyoma gave hints that he didn't really value the relationship very much because the two of you were only in middle school. there was no reason for him to be so attached and devoted to a relationship that might not even last a full year.

you understood, but it didn't mean that it hurt any less. in fact, knowing that he didn't value your relationship as much as you did hurt a lot more than it would be if you didn't know.

but even with the hurt, you couldn't leave him alone. not when he was so broken and in need of help, but so stubborn to reject all the help that would come to him and go.

"hyoma, it's been a while..."

you stand at the doorway to his room, not quite in the room, but close enough. you didn't want to intrude on him.

"oh... it's you."

god, his voice was so weak compared to how he talked to you a month ago. he was so passionate, full of energy, and strong-minded back then, but now he was a mere shell of himself. he sounded empty, like an old car running on fumes.

"you... haven't been to school lately, so i wanted to check up on you. i brought some food and-"

his response was instant. he didn't even spare you a glance, but his expression turned sour just at the mention of you wanting to check up on him.

"i don't want it. leave."

"but hyoma-."

he finally looked at you.

"you don't understand anything! get out!"

his eyes were so dark. they were dimmed to the point you thought his eyes had turned black or brown, but you realize it was because he had lost a valuable dream to him. a goal he wanted to fulfill for the longest time. the eyebags and swollen eyes told you enough, but you couldn't find it in yourself to leave.

"hyoma..."

you couldn't find the words to say to him.

he looked so disgusted with you, what were you supposed to say? how were you supposed to react?

"get out... i don't want to see you anymore."

perhaps it was his emotions doing all the talking, but you hoped with every beat of your heart that he didn't mean it. that he wasn't thinking straight with how much pain and sleepless nights he went through alone. you didn't want to leave him alone like that. you couldn't. even if he found your relationship to be nothing but a joke and a fond memory to look back on in the future, you didn't want things to end on a bad note.

so, you approached him.

stepping into his room, over the piles of clothes he left on the floor, the picture frames and ripped posters of soccer players, and whatever else until you reached him. sitting on his bed looking so broken, yet so pretty still.

you found him beautiful and angelic, even if he looked like a mess.

"hyoma... how are you so pretty even when you're sad?"

your question startles him, and he snaps his head to look at you, yell at you and demand that you're wrong. he has nothing special about him anymore until he sees you. he doesn't just look. he sees you.

your eyes looked so tired, so heavy, like you were carrying a burden like he has been for the past month. but your lips, the same ones that pressed delicate and sweet kisses on his hand for good luck before his games, were pressed into a fine line. they were shaking, like you were trying not to cry.

he couldn't remember your lips pressing on his hands before the game that ruined his leg.

he couldn't remember seeing you there in the audience, but he knew you were there to hold his hand at the hospital. you had let him cry on your shoulder and get snot all over your blouse because of him, but you never said a word about it.

now, you're calling him pretty after all the mean and ugly things he said to you.

this entire time, he thought there was something special about him, and you were about as ordinary as anyone could be, but hyoma realized it now.

how you were too kind for him. too patient with him. beautiful in all the right ways, and plain in all the best ways. and this entire time, he's been pushing you away for what? his pride? his selfish wants? what was it that kept him from giving all the love in the world, because when he sees it now, you've done everything to deserve it.

you didn't deserve him because you were too good for a selfish, broken boy like him, but you were still here.

"i'm not pretty..."

you hear him say.

you want to deny it instantly.

"that's not true... you are pretty, hyoma. you just can't see it right now."

just like how he couldn't see all the soft smiles and vibrant love you've given him the past six months and didn't bat an eye to it.

"... really?"

"yeah... i wouldn't lie to you, hyoma."

you're right. you never lied to him about anything before. if you thought he could do better on a school assignment, you'd say he'll need to study harder. if you saw he wasn't taking care of himself and practicing too much, you'd scold him for it. you were kind, but you weren't a pushover.

hyoma can't remember if he listened to you, but he had a feeling his leg was ruined because he didn't listen.

"right... sorry."

you take the liberty to sit on his dirty bedroom floor, wanting him to meet your eyes without looking up at you like you were standing over him. he didn't want you to sit on the floor. no, sitting next to him was much more suitable for you, even if he was stinky and pale from not taking care of himself for a whole week and a half.

"wait, no... sit here..."

he gently takes your arm and pats the space next to him with his other hand, like the space between the two of you was too big for him to bear.

you listen without complaint. hyoma wishes he could be a good listener like you. he could feel your warmth from the close proximity, with your arms touching and thighs touching. he felt safe with you, relaxed with you. the world was starting to look a little brighter when he was with you, and hyoma wondered if he was so blinded by everything else that he didn't realize you were the one who made it so colorful for him.

"hyoma, do you remember our conversation two months ago? the one about kissing?"

he could barely remember, but the boy recalls that he teased you heartlessly for thinking he'll let you be his first.

"mm, yeah."

you give him a small smile at his response.

"i'm not mad at you. i know you think this relationship isn't going to last a long time but-"

"no."

"huh?"

he shakes his head, as if he wanted to emphasize what he said.

"no..."

he didn't want you to leave him so soon.

hyoma doesn't think the pain of losing you forever to some random guy would come close to the pain he felt in his leg. what would become of his vibrant and color-filled life without you?

"... hyoma, what do you mean by no?"

you ask, inching your hand closer until it touched his, and hyoma instantly grabbed your hand like you were going to run away from him that very moment.

"i don't want you to leave..."

you couldn't tell if he didn't want you to leave him alone physically or break up with him, but it didn't feel like it mattered too much what the difference was.

"hyoma, i'm not leaving you... not now. not when you're so sad."

the pink-haired boy rests his head on the crook of your neck, closing his eyes as the sleepless nights start to cave in on him. he feels like steel weights have been chained his to entire body, and you were the key to getting them off. was a middle schooler supposed to feel this way about his girlfriend he had for six months? hyoma doesn't think so, but you weren't some ordinary girlfriend.

no, you were so much more than that, and now that he sees it, he couldn't unsee it.

you didn't deserve to have your efforts and love be unseen.

"... y/n, if you leave... i don't think i can live the same anymore..."

you put your head on his, comforting him as you have done since the accident.

"well, good thing i'm not thinking about leaving anytime soon."

yes, it was.

because you were hyoma's rainbow even on the rainiest of days.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 📖 ꒱ BOOKSTORE BOY

Armin x fem!reader

Chapter index / Chapter Ⅳ

Overview; it's been some time since you visited the bookstore and Armin has been missing you a lot. But you appear just when the lonely blue-eyed boy is closing up shop for the day. His grandfather has invites you back to their house in the countryside for dinner.

Content; fluff, angst, kissing

TAGLIST; @sad-darksoul

DM in my askbox to be added to taglists! 💕

Armin melancholically lowered his chin onto the cash register and let out a deflating sigh. His grandfather gave him a sympathetic look.

"She hasn't been around in a while." Armin muttered.

He looked blankly at the display books in the window; they were all crammed together. There was an unmoved cart full of books standing nearby, which he hadn't had the energy or motivation to shelve away.

"She'll come around again." His grandfather assured.

"But it's been weeks..." Armin replied glumly.

There was a silence.

Armin sighed again and rubbed the side of his face with his hand. "It feels so quiet." He commented. It was clear in his voice how much he missed you.

"Chin up." His grandfather said.

Armin halfheartedly pulled himself together.

The working day had come to an end again and you hadn't been there. Armin assured his grandfather that he could close up shop himself, so he let him be and went to get groceries for dinner. Umi the cat comfortably napped in the basket that he carried.

While glumly locking the front door and rolling down the shutter, he heard someone shouting for him.

"Wait! Armin!" You called out, running towards the store.

Armin's heart leaped at the sight of you.

"H-hey!" He stuttered out in surprise.

When you reached him, you panted to catch your breath, "I-I guess I'm a little late... I forgot you closed at five."

After hearing your voice and seeing your smiling face again, it felt like not much time had passed at all since your last meeting.

"Oh... well, since you're here." Armin mumbled softly. He rolled up the shutter again and unlocked the door to the bookstore. "But we best keep the lights off, or everyone will think we're still open."

"Okay!" You beamed happily at him.

So the two of you found yourselves alone together in the bookstore, browsing the aisles in the waning sunset light. Though, admittedly, neither of you were really paying attention to the books; you were too busy catching up on each other's lives.

You explained that your schedule had gotten wildly busy. Armin felt a bit silly, because he'd been overthinking, and came to the conclusion that maybe he said something to drive you away.

It's so nice to hear his voice again, you thought. And he was thinking the same thing.

"Ah, I missed you." You laughed after he made an awful pun about something.

He stuttered, unsure how to respond, "I did as well." He managed to say, but barely.

In the back of Armin's mind, he was trying so hard to challenge his nervousness. He had so much to say. Sometimes he'd lay awake in bed, imagining the conversations that he wanted to have with you.

"I'm not good at speaking..." He admitted. It seemed random to you, but it was currently burdening his mind. "But there's a lot that I want to talk about with you."

You looked at him understandingly. "Hm... maybe we should write to each other! I've been sending letters to my friends lately, but they think it's pretentious." You laughed.

It lowered your spirits remembering that. You were so excited to send old-fashioned letters to your friends as a surprise, but only one of them was vaguely amused by the endeavor. The rest were indifferent, or called you pretentious.

"I'd say any friend who calls you that isn't a friend at all." Armin said honestly. "Personally, I think the idea is really sweet. I'd love to receive a letter from y- from a friend."

You felt your eyes light up. He may have thought he was bad with his words, but every time you talked with him you felt your spirits rise.

"Well, actually, now that you mention it..." You began shyly. "I did write a letter for you. I've been meaning to give it to you for weeks, but everything seems to be getting in my way. It's so annoying!" You complained.

Armin smiled and intently listened to you complain about your schedule and how everything seems to go wrong even when you're careful. You dug around in your bag and pulled out the letter.

"Wow, a wax seal and all? That's really pretty... where did you come by one of those?" Armin analyzed the letter's seal, admiring the pattern.

You shrugged, "I found it in my grandmother's attic. She had a whole writing kit, with a special fountain pen, but I don't know how to use one of those... so I just wrote with a ballpoint pen."

Armin laughed, "I like that. A fancy letter written in ballpoint pen." He said.

It was almost completely dark in the bookstore, except for Armin's phone torch, which he propped on the books to provide a small area of light.

"I know how to use a fountain pen..." Armin mentioned after a short silence. "I could teach you."

"Oh really! Then, we could write real old-fashioned letters – pretty ones – to each other..." You responded excitedly.

"I'd love that." He admitted, and then added with a half-laugh, "Actually, you know, sometimes I want to throw my phone into a lake."

"Me as well. I don't like receiving phone calls, or text messages. When I tried to write text messages more eloquently, then I got slapped with one of those 'you're pretentious' comments." You said.

"Was it the same person who called you pretentious for the letters?" He asked.

You nodded, "Yeah. I'm not sure why I still talk to him, I guess it's just because we've known each other for so long."

Armin felt a small pang of jealousy in his chest.

"Well, personally, I'm just bad at texting. And writing, too, for that matter. I don't think I have a single poem that I'm proud of." Armin continued, steering the conversation away from the topic of whoever this mystery man was.

"You write poetry!" You gasped, "And you never told me!"

"I'm not good at it..." He nervously ran his fingertips over the back of his neck.

In the middle of your conversation, the doorbell chimed.

Armin's grandfather appeared at the entrance with one hand carrying a basket filled with market vegetables and the other carrying a familiar Russian Blue cat.

At first, he confusedly asked why the store wasn't closed up.

But when he saw you and Armin standing in an aisle, he raised his head in understanding. "Oh, I see." he said, "Well, Armin, at this rate, it would be kind to invite the young Miss back home for a warm meal. It's getting late and cold."

"Oh! Um, sorry! Yeah... um..." Armin stuttered.

It felt like after the atmosphere between you and him was disturbed, that Armin's ability to speak significantly decreased. Like a river's flow turning turbulent after having been laminar.

"...Would you like to?" Armin asked, turning to face you.

How could you refuse the idea of coming home for a warm meal with a sweet boy and his grandfather?

"I'd love to, as long as you both don't mind having me." You responded kindly. Armin felt the tone of your voice shift since you were no longer comfortably alone with him.

"Of course not. Let's get going then." Armin's grandfather said, and you three headed out the store together.

⁕⁕⁕

The night finally took over the sky. Street lamps lit up, their globe of light appearing fuzzy and soft. You and Armin followed his grandfather like he was the leader.

Even though he said it was alright for you to call him Harry, you anyways called him Sir Arlert out of respect.

It was a long walk to their house. They lived quite far out of town, it almost felt like you were in the countryside, but not quite. Sir Arlert explained to you that this was the 'old people area'; all the veterans who dedicated their hearts in the war were serenely snuggled up in these well-built homes.

"You can't pry these homes from them. They'll never give 'em up." His grandfather chuckled. It amused you how some elderly people speak of other elderly people, as if they are not all the same age.

"To be fair, I wouldn't give up these homes either. They remind me of English cottages." You said.

Armin was being silent, keeping his hands shyly tucked behind his back as the three of you walked on the dirt road.

"But it isn't nice," Sir Arlert spoke, "Because for young people like Armin, who live with geezers like me, there are no people his age in the area; just more old geezers. It gets lonely for young men."

You tilted your head in thought. "I guess that's true."

"I don't mind it." Armin said, blushing.

His grandfather quickly responded, "Ah but you were moping about being lonely and sick of seeing the same faces until Y/n walked into the bookstore one day!" He said.

Armin blushed violently. He felt the heat searing from the top of his cheeks to the bottom of his jaw.

"Really!" You laughed.

You finally arrived at their home. It was old. And just like the books in their bookstore, it was falling apart. But inside, it was as homely and inviting as browned pages.

While Armin hopped around like a nervous bunny to prepare the kitchen for cooking, his grandfather calmly lit the fireplace and set the table at a snail's pace.

You helped Sir Arlert where you could, and went to light up some candles and gas lamps. It felt like you were in another era, it was wonderfully cozy and quiet, not like in the city where you used to live like an ant in a colony.

The fireplace crackled very quietly.

Armin's nimble hands peeled potatoes and carrots. He began chopping them up for the stew, and then you came to stand by the kitchen's archway.

"Need a helping hand?" You asked him.

His voice nearly got caught in his throat. "No, I've got it – OW! Fuck!" He yelped as he cut his finger.

"Are you alright!" You cried, and quickly rushed over to him.

"Yeah, I'm good." He stuttered.

"Aw, your finger is bleeding! Let's go to the bathroom to fix it up." You said, hastily wrapping a cloth around Armin's finger.

⁕⁕⁕

He felt conflicted; his finger hurt, but at the same time, if he hadn't accidentally sliced it, then you and him wouldn't end up alone together in the bathroom upstairs.

The bare lightbulb flickered above. The candle by the window made up for its lackluster illumination.

"Sorry." Armin apologized softly.

"For what?" You tilted your head.

"For being a bit much." He said.

"I don't know what you mean, Armin."

He was trying to string a sentence together, he was on the verge of saying the first word, but then you smiled and interrupted him.

"It's alright, Armin. You don't have to speak a word, I know." You said understandingly, gently cleaning his wound with a cotton swab soaked in alcohol.

He nodded. "I-I'm usually not this bad at speaking..." He said shamefully. "It's just nerves."

"Do I make you nervous?" You asked.

He raised his face at you. His eyes were full of light despite being in a dim room.

"A little bit." He smiled lopsidedly, looking away the second you made eye contact.

"Sorry..." You say quietly.

"Not in a bad way, though." He assured.

You pursed your lips to keep from smiling. Armin did the same.

After nursing his finger, the two of you headed downstairs to continue cooking with his grandfather, and then joined together for a warm, homely meal.

Umi was in her own cat world, except for when you and Armin began washing the dishes; then she decided she wanted to sit in the dish rack.

"It's very cold," Armin's grandfather commented, "And there's a slight drizzle. If you want to stay for the night, Armin's room has plenty space. I'll get the blankets." He said.

Armin's heart panged in his chest. His sleeves were rolled up, and he had soap suds going up to his forearm.

"Oh, I don't want to be a burden... I'm sure I can make it home before the rain gets heavier." You said.

It seemed that the gods were trying very hard to keep you and Armin together tonight, because almost two minutes after you said that, a heavy thunderstorm broke out.

Rain cascaded down the roof's eaves.

Armin's grandfather went into the hallway to take out the blankets that were stowed away into a cupboard.

After washing up, he gave Armin these blankets, and then disappeared into his bedroom with a tired 'goodnight'.

⁕⁕⁕

Armin lead you into his room; it was a small attic room, as neat and composed as his style of clothes. He insisted that he take the floor, but you came up with another idea entirely.

"Why not the both of us make a fort, and sleep in it together?" You suggested.

"A-Alright." Armin laughed. His heart beat rapidly, he could feel it.

So the two of you built a plush fort together. Armin laid the base, and you brought the chairs and draped a mismatch of blankets and sheets over it. There were dazzling fairy lights strung by the window, and glow in the dark stars on the ceiling; towers of books threatened to spill over.

The two of you kept your voices hushed and gentle throughout the night.

"I like your room." You said, laying comfortably in the fort that the two of you made.

"Oh... thanks. I actually kind of hate it." Armin said.

You laughed, "Why? What's the matter with it?"

"Well, it's small and sad." He chuckled, "Just like me." He joked.

"Armin!" You laughed with him. "I don't think it's small and sad. It's full of life, and it's got your feeling plastered all over it."

He rolled onto his side to look at you. Such a simple thing, yet it took such courage. You felt really close to him, it was like the two of you were in a bubble that the world couldn't pierce.

"What do you mean, my 'feeling'? Is that good or bad?" He asked.

"It's good." You assured him.

He smiled a little.

Although he seemed so shy and gentle, there was something in his eyes that told you another story of his personality. He was a book that you had only just begun reading, but you wanted to skip in between the pages to answer all the questions you had about the plot.

"Armin, do you consider yourself a romantic person?" You asked. It seemed random to him, and made him blush.

"Well, sort of..."

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?" You smiled under the dim light.

Armin felt lulled by your voice.

"I've never really felt like I've been in love before meeting you." He blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

The two of you looked at each other. You began laughing, and he did too.

"Sorry." He mumbled, hiding his face into the pillow. He recoiled so much, you felt his warmth leave your air.

"Don't hide away! I'm not startled, I'm just surprised. I didn't expect you to admit to that now." You said.

"You mean... you already knew that I like you?"

"Oh, definitely. I knew from day one." You laughed.

"Really!" Armin let out a long groan, "That's embarrassing. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable."

You shook your head, "I like you very much, too. I'll be honest, most of the time when I came into the store to browse, I wished that you'd come up to me and say hello." You admitted.

That was a surprising revelation to him; he would have never thought that you were wishing for that.

"I meant to say hello many times, my friend always encouraged me to." He said.

"And why didn't you?" You asked teasingly.

"I was too shy and too nervous." He admitted simply. "I overthink a lot, it stops me from going after what I want."

A silence passed. You looked at him with glittering eyes. Armin really felt like kissing you right then, he was thinking very hard about it.

"Am I something that you want?" You asked.

Armin blushed.

"Yeah." He said.

You were trying to figure out how to tell him that the feeling was mutual, but then you realized that words are not necessary sometimes.

So you went in for a kiss. A swift, gentle kiss. All the meaningful feelings that words couldn't contain were expressed there, on both of your quivering lips.