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sundaysundaes · 3 years

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Revival

Jung Jaehyun X Reader feat. Haechan | Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU | NC-17 | 15k

Summary: When fate brought Jung Jaehyun to you, it didn’t feel like your first time meeting him. And with him, smiling at you like his heart shattering to pieces, eyes painted with longing, you knew you were connected to him somehow. You just have to find the answers before it’s too late.

Warnings: sex scenes (both with Jaehyun and Haechan), mentions of death and suicide

For my lovely cinnamon bun Esme @rainydayswithnct I couldn’t think of anything else to give you but this. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, I hope this will make you happy ❤️

His eyes… They remind you of the ocean after the storm.

It’s not the color as his are dark brown, like the freshly turned earth after rain. It’s the feeling, the way they glimmer under the soft evening light, calm and steady, but in a way, emits sadness, yearning for something. As if he had been crushed, trapped inside a hurricane for so long, he was about to fade into the void. And as he peered into your eyes, full of depths and secrets you long to unveil, something tugs upon your heartstring.

It’s not love at a first sight. You’ve experienced that before with Lee Donghyuck, the lover whom you share frantic kisses and desperate touches with. But it’s something more intense, something you can’t even begin to fathom, something you wish you understand.

The second your eyes are locked to each other, it’s like you’re electrocuted, starting from the tip of your hair down to your toes.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, your voice sounds like you haven’t spoken in years. A tiny red spot begins to form on his chin from where it made contact with your head earlier. “I was looking for a book so I wasn’t—I didn’t see you there.”

The man, young enough to be around your age with a gaze wiser than most, has an expression of a heartbroken man. There’s pain that fleets through his eyes, a feeling that he quickly hides with a smile too bright to be genuinely coming from the heart. When he speaks, his voice is both rich and soft, deep and tender. “No, it was my fault.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t apologize.”

You want to reach out to him, want to know why he looks like he’s seconds away from breaking apart, want to ask him whether you’ve said too much or too less. But he’s nothing but a stranger and you don’t want to step out of the line. “Were you looking for a book?”

“Yes, umm…” He points his finger towards a book hidden in the shelf behind you. “That one.”

You follow his direction, smiling when you read the title written on its spine. “No wonder we bumped heads. I was aiming for the same book.”

“Oh, then it’s fine,” he says, pushing the book back to you after you handed it to him. “You can take it.”

“No, please, go ahead. I’ve read this too many times already.”

“Me too. So—”

“I insist.” You press the book to his chest, looking up at him. He looms before you, standing 180 centimeters tall that you have to tilt your head up to match his line of vision. You catch a sniff of his scent, the smell of soap and aftershave, thinly layered by cologne. His eyelashes are long, face framed by strong jawlines, brunette locks falling over his forehead. When his lips curve up, pretty dimples start to form in his cheeks. He looks like a painting, a thought runs through your mind, one that you hastily dismiss. “Take it as a form of my apology for bruising your chin,” you add.

His eyes widen, just for a split second before a soft chuckle reverberates from his chest. When he speaks again, it’s almost like a whisper—like a secret never meant to be told, “I can never win against you.”

You barely catch his words. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “I’m… I was about to borrow this and grab some coffee. Would you care to join me? I’d love to talk more.” His body language indicates that he’s nervous which you find rather endearing. “I mean, It’s hard to find someone who has a similar taste like mine.”

Your heart convulses. You know how grabbing some coffee together tends to lead to something more. Your boyfriend’s name pops in your head but your lips betray you before your brain can form a warning. “Well, I do have a peculiar taste when it comes to books,” you answer with a smile. “Sure, as long as you tell me your name.”

“Right, sorry.” You love the sound he makes when he chuckles, and you love it more when it echoes louder in your ears. He offers his hand, stretching out his lean fingers. “I’m Jaehyun.”

You expect it to be soft just like the way he’s gazing at you, but his palm feels calloused against your own. When you reply to him with your name, he seems stunned but doesn’t stay still for long. Your name flows out of his mouth so naturally, as if he has been calling you for years, like a soulmate to another. It feels like electricity is running through your veins once more, something that you’ve never experienced before.

It takes around ten minutes to walk from the library to the nearest coffee shop and by then, you’ve caught on the little gestures he makes: the way he forces himself to laugh a little when he notices he’s being too straightforward; the way he clears his throat when he feels like his words have more hidden meanings than they let on. You’ve become aware of his passion and the love he has for books, so strong that it can only be matched by your own. You’ve learned about his dream, a novelist in the making, taking his first baby steps to turn it into reality.

“Have you thought about what kind of story you’re planning to write?” You question as you slide your cup closer with hot, black coffee shimmering inside. Before you take a sip, Jaehyun drags a sugar bowl toward your direction. “What?”

“It’s too bitter for you.”

“You think I can’t handle my coffee?”

“It’s not that.” He clears his throat and you wonder what is it that he’s trying to hide. “The coffees here are always too bitter.”

“Yeah?” You taunt him, smirking. “Well, watch me.” You take a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits your tongue but you act unfazed. Smacking your lips, you say, “See? I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“No. Give me the damn sugar.”

It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun’s little laughter becomes one of your most favorite sounds in the world.

“I’m planning to write a romance novel,” he responds to your earlier question.

“Romance, huh? To be honest, I see you more as someone who writes detective stories. Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be more than just a romance story. It has a supernatural element to it. Borderline fantasy.”

“Like what?”

He takes a few seconds before he responds quietly with a secretive smile. “I guess you’ll just have to read to find out.”

“Cheapskate.” You purse your lips. “Is it going to have a happy ending?”

“Well, they’ll be separated by death in the end.”

“No,” you drawl out. “What happens to them? You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me about it.”

“Of course, I can.” There’s a tiny smirk creeping up his lips. “I’m the author.”

“And a jerk too, apparently.” You’re worried you might go too far with your joke but Jaehyun still peers at you with that warm, longing eyes that make you curl your toes.

“Fine, then,” he succumbs. “Since you insist, I’ll give you a hint later. But you’ll have to imagine the rest.”

“Then tell you about it? What if you steal my idea?” You raise an eyebrow, teasing him. “I happen to have a very creative imagination.”

“I promise you I won’t. I’ve finished writing my version of it. I’ll let you see it after you tell me yours.”

“Huh, interesting.” You pretend like you’re rethinking your decision, just to get him a little bit hopeful and nervous by it. “Deal, why not.” Your coffee has grown slightly cold but the sugary taste of it serves as an addiction. “So, does that mean we’ll see each other again?”

“Well, I do have to go back to the library to return the book. So, hopefully, yes.” You both exchange stares, sharing sheepish smiles with you breaking away first, bringing your focus back to your coffee. “I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Jaehyun questions, “Is today your first time visiting?”

“No. I’ve been visiting it almost every day for the last… two weeks, I think? It’s near my workplace so I usually drop by after work to read for an hour or two. My apartment is pretty small so it feels a bit cramped. That’s why I enjoy spending more time outside.” You swirl your spoon, watching the little whirlpool you create inside your cup. “Besides, I can’t read at home.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s…” You awkwardly laugh, waving one hand in the air. “I have a boyfriend who is younger than me and he’s a pretty lively person. It’s hard to focus on your book when someone keeps pulling you into conversations.”

Jaehyun’s fingers stop tapping against the surface of the coffee table but it’s too fast for you to notice before he starts again. “Isn’t it better to have someone like that rather than to be alone, though?” He counters, the smile on his lips never falter but the one in his eyes does.

“I…” It’s not apparent but you can sense it, the painful look on his face. It feels like you just said something that hurt him so badly that you want to apologize about it. “Yeah… I guess so…”

Maybe he notices you noticing, which is why he tries to mask his feelings better with a wider smile that does reach his eyes this time. “Why do you choose this library?” He diverts the topic. “There are a lot of new ones in town, bigger ones too. This place is pretty old and dusty.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You nod, sighing. “Okay, don’t laugh, but honestly? It just feels somewhat nostalgic to me. The first time I stepped inside, it felt like I’d been spending all my life there—just sitting on that old couch, reading books, enjoying the silence. It just feels familiar, even more comforting than being in my room. It’s weird but I can only feel at ease when I read there.” Jaehyun stays quiet that you have to lift your head to understand what goes through his head. His face is pensive, undecipherable. “What about you? What’s your reason, Jaehyun?”

He stops breathing at the sound of his name escaping your mouth, his shoulders tense, and only after what feels like hours, he finally has the strength to drag his eyes away from yours, bringing them down to see his interlaced fingers lying on the table.

“It’s just closer to my place.”

***

“Hey, babe.” Donghyuck chirps with a lollipop stuck in his mouth, his fingers running through the keyboards, eyes locked to his computer screen. He can tell that it’s you who just slipped through the front door by the sound of your footsteps. “You’re late. Did you get the puddings I asked you?”

“They’re in the fridge.” You take off your coat and unwrap your scarf from your neck before you stroll toward the living room. You can’t remember what or who initiated it but it has been almost six months since he started living in your apartment. You remember how he used to spend just one night at your place on the weekend, then two when he felt a bit needy for your touch. Before you knew it, his personal belongings were scattered all over the place—his hoodie on the couch, his towel on the bed, his toothbrush on your sink—and he could be spending the entire week at your place, only moving once to his apartment when he ran out of comic books to read. It just came so naturally that you didn’t notice at first but by the time you did, it was too late to even bring the topic to the table.

Being with Donghyuck was easy, casual, and he gave you more reasons to laugh over little things more than anyone else. During the first two months, you acted like newlyweds with him peppering kisses on your face whenever you arrived home from work. Unlike you, Donghyuck is a freelancer and he does most of his work at home. He used to be considerate enough to do some chores for you—cooking, cleaning the bathroom, sometimes even doing your laundry when he felt he’d been neglecting you. Whenever you arrived late, he would’ve always had something prepared for you, beaming at you with a contagious grin while chiming, “Finally, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you and I’m starving. Today’s dish is your favorite so let’s eat!”

But things are bound to change and happiness doesn’t last forever. It started slow, almost unnoticeable, with him forgetting to kiss you good night before bed and you treating the fact that he no longer paid attention to what you were wearing as normal. Nowadays, he doesn’t have enough affection to greet you with his smile—one that used to shine brighter than the sun. Comforting hugs and welcome kisses are long forgotten.

It’s lonely, but it’s fine. He’s still here. Donghyuck is still yours as much as you are his.

It’s fine.

“I met someone today,” you say, reaching out to stroke his dark hair. It’s so soft and fluffy like a dog’s fur and you find it calming just to card your fingers through them. The feelings are the same, only his reaction isn’t. He used to lean into your touch as a kitten would. Now, he doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“A man?”

“Yep.”

“Is he hot?”

“Well, he’s not ugly.”

“Then don’t get too close to him.”

Donghyuck is the jealous type, he’s always been—sometimes even a bit possessive but it makes you happy to know there’s someone out there who cares about you so much he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else. But not today. Today, his words feel empty. You can tell that he doesn’t mean any of them. He just says them as a joke, maybe out of habit, but certainly not a warning.

“What will we be having for dinner?” You ask him when he’s busy shouting foul words to his screen as his character just got shot dead.

“Jesus—left, you moron!” He groans loudly in to the air before he turns around, finally recognizing your presence. “What? Oh.” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I just had some take-outs.”

“You didn’t wait for me?”

“I was dead hungry, but I ordered some for you too. It’s probably cold now but you can heat it up.”

“Can you do that for me, please? I love it when you add more seasonings to it.”

“I’d love to do that but,” he smiles apologetically, his fingers meeting the keyboards once more. “I’m busy, babe. There’s an event going on and Jeno literally won’t let me take a break. Look, I’ll cook for you tomorrow, I promise.”

You have stopped believing in his promises, or at least, don’t allow yourself to believe. You’ve learned that the best way to avoid disappointment is to not expect anything.

You smile back, push his hair away so you can land a kiss on his temple. And no matter how much your bottled-up feelings are about to burst, you don’t say a word.

Because you know silence is what keeps your relationship alive.

***

That night, Jaehyun appeared in your dream.

He had a different hairstyle, a little bit shorter, color’s a shade darker. He was dressed in an old-fashioned way—a white buttoned-up shirt under a brown blazer that was a couple of sizes bigger than it was supposed to. Nevertheless, he looked just as strikingly handsome as he was in real life.

He took off his fedora hat, bowing when his eyes met yours as he entered the library—the one that you always visit. “You look beautiful today,” he said, smiling like he always has from the first time you saw him but it felt different in the dream. His smile was timid and shy, eyes never stayed long enough to be locked with yours, but they were honest. The way they shimmered in adoration at the sight of you, painted with both desire and affection.

Your body went autopilot, words flowing from your mouth before you could even process the situation. It was like you were residing in someone else’s body, just a bystander. “Are you saying I didn’t look beautiful yesterday?”

“No, that’s not—” At the sight of you covering your smile behind your hand, he sighed, pressing his hat to his chest. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m sorry. Which book would you like to read today?”

“Will you choose one for me?”

“Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”

“I trust you.” He smiled a tad wider, perfect teeth peeking behind soft red lips, and you could feel your lips curving to mirror his.

“Well then,” you said, reaching toward a bookshelf. “Why don’t we start with this?”

It ended without you knowing what book it was nor the line between your dream and reality. They stand out so vividly—the scenery, his expressions, the lines you’d exchanged with him—that it takes you a few good minutes to realize that it was just a dream and not a memory.

You couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

***

The library is indeed old, with walls standing in dire need to be repainted. But the faint smell of sandalwood combined with the orange tint of sunlight sneaking through the windows is comforting. Crowds don’t gather much around here—maybe four or five people at most—and you’re consoled by the tranquility. There’s only a soft thrum of acoustic guitar playing through the speakers that keep you company.

And Jaehyun.

You meet him every day when the sun is an hour away from setting. You don’t chat for long, spending most of your hour reading your chosen book for the day while stealing glances at him scribbling stuff down on his notebook.

“Why don’t you use a laptop?”

“Not fond of it. I feel more like a writer this way,” Jaehyun responds, re-reading the words he just wrote on paper. When he notices you’re giggling, he frowns. “What?”

“You’re like my dad.”

“Then I’m sure your dad is a very smart, tech-savvy man.”

“I’m saying you have an old soul, the way you prefer to do stuff more traditionally.” You sink further into your chair, opening a new page, eyes scanning the lines but not reading them. “Well, I guess that makes the two of us since I already have the e-book version of this on my iPad and I’m still here reading it in a library. How’s your story going?”

“Pretty well. I just came up with a really annoying character.” His smile is a bit different this time, somewhat mischievous. “Inspired by someone.”

“You’re not talking about me, are you?”

Jaehyun drags his pen over his note. “Character A begins to question her—”

“Shut up!”

The more time you spend with him, the more you feel like he’s becoming a mystery you can’t solve. You’re closer to him, closer than any of your friends, but you know there are secrets he tries to bury underneath those tender smiles. To you, Jaehyun, with his eyes that always seem like they’re telling a different story—one that nearly drives him to the brink of tears, still seems like an incomplete puzzle. And if time allows you, you’d gladly collect every piece of him to be able to perceive him better.

***

Jaehyun visited you in another dream.

This time, you were walking next to him beside a beautiful pond in a backyard that seemed familiar enough to be your own. Both of you were dressed in traditional clothing and you wondered whether a ceremony just occurred.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding your hand.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you heard yourself mumble, body moving beyond your control. “I just feel like we’re moving too fast. We just turned twenty.”

“Are you having doubts?” He intertwined your fingers better and you noticed how his were shaking slightly. “About me?”

“Of course not.” You turned around, reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “Jaehyun, this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I want to be with you, there’s no doubt about it. I’m just thinking about our future, that’s all. What will we do with our jobs? Our money? What will we do when we have kids—”

“It’s just like you to overthink about stuff,” he tittered, “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”

That earned him a pout. “I’m not overthinking about stuff. I’m planning them.”

“Of course, my bad.” He kissed your inner palm once before he let you frame his face again, his hand pressing against the back of your smaller one. “Thank you.”

You frowned. “For what?”

“For everything. For caring, for worrying.” Jaehyun smiled so gently, it was almost heartbreaking. “For being with me. Perhaps it’s immature for me to say this, but whatever future that lies ahead of us, I’m sure it’s filled with nothing but joy as long as we’re together.”

“That is such an embarrassing line to say.” You giggled and the blush that bloomed on his face was instant and striking but before he could say a word, you pulled him into your embrace, resting your cheek against his chest. “As long as we’re together, huh?” You repeated quietly. “Then will you promise you’ll stay with me forever?”

“I promise.” Jaehyun’s smile was pressing against your hairline. “Not even death can separate us.”

You wake up with a cold sweat, your heart thrumming so loudly, it makes you feel nauseous. Donghyuck shifts around in bed at the sound of you gasping for air, sleepily asking what’s wrong as he rubs his eyes.

“I’m fine,” you tremulously utter, a hand on your chest as if it could do something to steady your racing heart. “Go back to sleep.”

Donghyuck sends you another look with eyes barely opened. “Come here.” He tugs you closer to his chest, his nose grazing the crook of your neck. “It’s just a nightmare,” he murmurs drowsily against your skin, and in a matter of seconds, he drifts back to sleep.

“Yeah…” You swallow your breath, Jaehyun’s name resting on the tip of your tongue. “Just a nightmare…”

One that feels too real.

***

Weeks turn into months, and what started as curiosity becomes affection.

Reading books has turned into nothing but an excuse for both of you to spend time together. What started as stealing secret glances at each other has morphed into an exchange of secret whispers in a secluded corner. The questions have become more personal too, and you find yourself talking about childhood memories and nonsensical ideas that show up in your thoughts, even the ones you have never shared with anyone else, not even to Donghyuck who lends his arm for you at night.

It’s only the dreams that you keep quiet about, as they always revolve around him since the first day you met Jaehyun. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s a way of your subconscious trying to tell you that you have feelings for him—feelings that aren’t meant to be shared with friends—as the dreams tend to play romantically. And you can’t deny that you do feel something about him.

It’s hard not to feel anything when Jaehyun has given you everything you’ve ever asked from a person. From a friend. From a lover.

But it’s not love. Definitely not love. At least not in the way you know of. In your mind, love is in the form of hugs you share with Donghyuck, not in the way Jaehyun lands his eyes on yours. Love is—

Your head swirls. What is love?

The concept of love is so complex that even if you know about it, you’re not sure if you understand it enough to experience it. You have never talked about love, not with your boyfriend, not with yourself. Is it something that you’ve already felt once? Are you in love with Donghyuck—the man you’ve spent the last two years together?

What does he think of me? You start to lose focus, sinking into your thoughts and the soft music playing in the background feels like a lullaby. Does Hyuck love me?

Before long, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You fall asleep with your arms folded on the table, cheek pressing against them.

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming of a hand, so warm and tender as it brushes stray hairs from your temple. You’re dreaming of a voice, so familiar to your ears, so quiet and heartbroken as it resonates in whispers. You’re dreaming of a pair of lips, so soft and light as they press against your strands.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember me. It’s okay, so please…” Slender fingers curl around your wrist, bringing it to frame a face with skin as soft as porcelain. “Just come back to me…”

You wake up.

Jaehyun is sitting on the other side of the table, pen tapping against his lips as he reads back his work, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He notices the little shift in your movement, immediately beaming at you with his signature smile. “Hey there, Sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes before sitting straight on your seat, your hair’s astray. “What—How did I—” A coat is slipping through your shoulders and you catch it before it meets the ground. It’s Jaehyun’s. “Umm—t-thanks,” you mumble, handing it back to him.

“Sure,” he responds. “You were shivering so…”

“Oh… Right.” You certainly don’t feel cold now especially when your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “W-what time is it?”

“Around eight. The place’s about to close.” Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, grinning at your behavior. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve. My boyfriend's gonna interrogate me for this.” You sigh, trying to gather back every bit of your strength and dignity. “Why are you still here?”

He raises an eyebrow at that, acting offended. “You don’t actually think that I’m the type of guy who leaves pretty girls sleeping defenselessly in public, do you?”

The word ‘pretty’ comes so effortlessly from his mouth that you’re sure he doesn’t mean it to mean something more. “There’s literally no one else around here but the staff besides us.”

“Which should be the more reason why I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, yes, how chivalrous of you. Thank you, oh my mighty prince. How can I return the favor?”

“By coming here again tomorrow?”

The way his eyes shine with excitement at the thought of seeing you again makes your heart flutter. “I don’t think you need to ask,” you grin.

***

Jaehyun knows you. He knows you too well. But it’s not the things that can be seen, it’s the things that you can only know by spending time together. Jaehyun knows the type of music you listen to, knows that whenever it gets too cold, you’ll start craving a cup of hot chocolate.

It’s strange, the fact that Jaehyun, a stranger you just befriended, pays attention with all his heart, even at the words that accidentally slipped off your tongue as if you’re the only person who matters in the world, while Donghyuck, your boyfriend, barely bats an eyelash when you share an important aspect of your life. It feels strange at first, but now, it sickens you.

“What’s this?” You ask, examining a CD case he just hands over. “Are you giving me a mix-tape?” It doesn’t have a cover, just a note painted with the words: When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other. You have your eyebrow raised. “A quote by Rob Sheffield?”

“It’s a hint for my story. As promised.” He takes a seat in front of you. “Have you worked on it?”

“When you’re only giving me this quote as a hint and nothing more, it’s kinda hard to come up with something tragic for the ending.”

“I thought you had a very creative imagination.”

You throw a playful glare and he titters a little bit in response. “Is there any other reason why you’re giving me this?”

“Just something to keep you company.” He smiles. He always smiles, but more with his eyes than his lips. Then he slides down another thing—a book this time—wrapped with a red ribbon. “As you read this.”

It’s an old book written by your favorite author, one that you haven’t been able to read because it’s so rare to find. “How do you—” You’re lost for words. You have never told him about this. You’ve mentioned your favorite books but none from this author as it is something personal that you prefer to keep to yourself, not wanting others to judge you for your distinctive taste.

“It’s written by my favorite author,” he elaborates, “I just thought you’d like it too since we have similar taste.”

There’s something he’s not telling you, you can sense that. But if he’s not ready to provide the words, you won’t take them away by force.

“Thank you.” You hug the book to your chest. Somehow, the air feels like spring, like cherry blossoms blooming for the first time after being frozen for so long. “I’ll cherish this.”

“It’s just a book, don’t be dramatic,” he chuckles but happiness is written all over his face, mirroring yours. Jaehyun’s eyes soften and he appears so fragile, like a porcelain doll. So beautiful and vulnerable.

The songs he has compiled for you seem like they’re taken straight out of your playlist. Even for the songs you’ve never listened to before, they click right in. You’re so caught by the moment, drowned deep in the lyrics and the music that resonates from your speakers, that you don’t hear the sounds of your boyfriend stepping into the room.

“I thought I heard noises. What are you listening to?” Donghyuck asks, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the empty CD case you’ve been holding on your lap.

“A friend gave me,” you answer. You notice the way his eyes dart to the handwritten note and it makes you nervous as if you’re doing something wrong behind his back, something forbidden.

“What a thoughtful friend,” he comments nonchalantly, albeit a little bit cold. You mask your anxiety with a chuckle. “Maybe you can tell your friend that there’s this thing called Spotify nowadays. Literally no one listens to CDs anymore.”

Your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, and maybe it’s better to leave things the way it is but you can’t stop yourself from bitterly saying, “I happen to like listening to CDs. It makes me feel nostalgic.”

“You and your nostalgia.” Donghyuck snorts, completely missed the annoyed tone in your voice. He places a peck on the top of your head. “Well, I’m hungry. What do you want to have for dinner? I’ll cook."

“There’s a new Chinese restaurant opening just a block away,” Jaehyun said on a Sunday evening when you two were about to part ways. “They got amazing reviews. Do you have some time to spare? I know how much you love Chinese food.”

“I never told you I loved Chinese food.”

“Everybody loves Chinese food, it’s not that hard to guess.”

“Fine. But if you can guess what I’m about to order, I’ll start filing a restraining order against you, assuming you’re a stalker.”

“Well, I gotta be careful not to get caught then.”

“Baby?” Donghyuck snaps you out of your reverie. “I’m asking what you wanna have for dinner.”

“Umm…” You push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, somewhat jittery. “Chinese food?”

He frowns upon your words. “I didn’t know you liked Chinese food.”

“I-it’s just something I haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Well, I’m going to cook you something better.” He grins, boyish and ignorant. “How about your favorite Spaghetti Aglio e Olio by Chef Lee Donghyuck?”

You smile, weak but hopefully not empty. “That would be nice.”

***

“You’re okay?” Jaehyun asks the second you take a seat in front of him. He seems so concerned that it surprises you. You haven’t realized you look that troubled.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a smile. “Just… You know, boyfriend stuff.”

You can tell how Jaehyun is holding back his words from how tightly he keeps his lips pressed together. He’s always considerate like that, always detecting every little thing that you try to hide but never pressures you to speak, especially when it comes to your relationship. Jaehyun respects you, respects the fact that you are already involved with someone that he never tries to get you to look in his direction. Though his eyes often betray him, Jaehyun tries his best to maintain his distance. He never flirts, never praises you with romantic words, never steps out of line.

And you’re thankful for that because deep down you know, once he does, it will be hard to untangle yourself from his grasp.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Then...” Jaehyun closes his book, leaning closer. His dimples are so prominent when he grins, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “How about we go try out some dumplings?”

It’s so sudden and random but once the idea sinks in, there’s only one thing you want to say. “Take me away, Jaehyun.”

It’s not about the food. It’s not about ignoring your problems, or the loneliness that’s drowning you a little bit more every day. It’s about enjoying the little things with someone who understands you, someone who doesn’t need to hold your hand to keep you warm.

Someone who can finally let you breathe.

***

“I can’t believe it’s closed early,” you whine after you read the sign that’s strapped to the library’s front door. “And I was so excited to read the next chapter too.”

“What’s the book?” Jaehyun asks, adjusting the strap of his bag that hangs low on his shoulder.

“No Longer Human.”

“By Osamu Dazai?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got a copy of that.”

“What, really?” The spark of glee that glimmer in your eyes catches him by surprise but he hides it behind a soft smile. “Can I borrow it? It’s such an old book, I can’t even find the e-book version of it.”

“Sure. Would you like to come over to my place?” The line makes your breath hitched in your throat and Jaehyun recognizes the faint blush that spreads on your cheeks. Mirroring your reaction, he hastily clears his throat, rubbing his nape as his face turns scarlet. “Or, uhh, I can just hand it over to you tomorrow.”

“No, it’s—” As you tuck your hair behind your ear, you notice your fingers are shaking. “I have—I’ve got time to spare. You have coffee at your place, right?”

His shoulders begin to relax and with a soft gaze, he reciprocates with an even tender smile. “If you’re alright with instant coffees.”

“Then lead the way.”

Jaehyun has this mature persona around him, like a caring big brother that calms you down but the second you arrive in his hallway, he fumbles with his words, his key slipping out of his fingers during his first try, and his nervousness starts to rub off on you.

It makes you wonder whether he’s feeling like he’s crossing the line, just as much as you are with Donghyuck’s name sitting on the front of your mind.

“Come in,” he invites, opening the door but keeping his eyes anywhere else but yours. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

His apartment smells just like him and it makes it hard for you to focus on anything else. But the second you’re able to sort that thought away, you realize something. He keeps his place minimalist and neat, just like the way he dresses and writes. Everything is organized properly with two paintings decorating his walls—ones that remind you of your grandmother’s house. “You really do have an old soul,” you playfully comment and he scrunches his nose at you in return.

It feels more familiar to step into Jaehyun’s apartment than your own because he has everything that you wanted and more. All the books sitting on his shelf, his collection of CDs, even the potpourri he has on his coffee table has the same scent with the one you’re planning to buy.

“I know you said we have similar taste, but this…” You scan his bookshelf in awe, noticing how it almost covers his entire wall from how huge it is. He owns hundreds of books and everything is arranged alphabetically. “This is just taking it to another level. Are you sure you’re not my stalker?”

He simpers. “If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you here. Too much evidence.”

“Or maybe you’re just planning to keep me here with you forever.” When he doesn’t reply, you realize how wrong that line just sounded. “I’m sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Jaehyun waves you off, walking to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

The tension gradually starts to ease by the time you have a book in your lap, your eyes running from one passage to another. Sitting next to you, Jaehyun has his pen glued to his notepad again, his brown hair nearly looks golden as the sunset illuminates his face with such a warm, beautiful glow.

He really does look like a painting, you admire as you steal glances at him from behind your book. The perfect shape of his nose, his smooth skin, the way he’s so focused on his story, drowned inside his imagination… Maybe you’re being carried away, taken by his beauty, that your mouth begins to produce the words without thinking.

“Why do you look so sad?”

Jaehyun’s pen nearly slips from his fingertips. “What?”

“Sometimes you just look... so lonely and hurt,” you clarify although you’re growing more conscious of the way you’re crossing the line. “It feels like you’re forcing yourself to smile when you look at me...”

Jaehyun loses the ability to speak, even just blinking his eyes already seems like a stretch. But he sees something, the genuine curiosity and concern written in your eyes, that makes him avert his gaze away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he remarks, forcing himself to chuckle and you know that’s he’s showing you that smile again, even when you can barely make out his features.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe you’re just tired of him keeping secrets to himself when you’re sure they concern you. Maybe you’re just sick of seeing him like he’s on the verge of breaking apart without knowing the cause. Or perhaps it’s just your selfish way of saying, “I want you to smile, truly smile, because of me and no one else.”

But you find yourself reaching out a hand, your fingertips meeting the warm skin of his cheek, wanting him to turn his face around so you can see his expression. Jaehyun jolts, your name tumbles down his lips abruptly, his hand clamping against your wrist. “What are you doing?” His eyes are shaking as they bore deep into yours but yours are steady. Your eyes, your voice, your fingertips. They’ve never been this steady.

This is the first time you’ve been this close to him, to know how long his eyelashes really are, the way they flutter against his cheeks, the curve of his mouth, and the beauty mark on his pale skin. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever witnessed in person.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suddenly touch you like that.” You try to retract your hand, but he keeps his fingers around your wrist, hand hanging mid-air as he swallows his breath. Seeing him nervous makes you nervous. “Jaehyun, I won’t force you to say anything you don’t want to say, but…” You haven’t realized that you’ve been speaking in whispers, but Jaehyun has and his eyes soften just as much as yours do. “Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

Whether it’s from your words or the tenderness in your voice, you’re not sure, but Jaehyun releases your hand only so he can cup your cheek. He murmurs your name, so soft as if he’s telling a secret that he’s been dying to say. He leans forward, his breath is now fanning your cheek, and he’s so close, so close, and your eyes begin to shut when his lips faintly graze against yours—

The ringing sound of your phone blares through the room.

Your entire movement stops but your heart runs a thousand miles per hour. It takes a good few seconds to come back to reality, and when you do, you’re not graceful at it. “Umm—” You glance away, breaking free from his touch. Your fingers are trembling hard when they retrieve your phone from the table. It has stopped ringing and a notification appears on your screen. The sight of your boyfriend’s name makes you feel like the floor is crumbling underneath you. “Sorry, it’s Donghyuck—I have to—It’s getting late, he must be looking for me.” Too embarrassed to see his face, you quickly gather your belongings into your arms, not even spending a few seconds to wear your coat back. “Thank you for inviting me. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” And you don’t wait for an answer, only forcing yourself to laugh which comes out as strained and pitchy, before you head toward the front door.

“Wait.” Jaehyun has his right hand pressing against the back of the door, shutting it close before you have the chance to let yourself out. You’re trapped between the door and his chest, making it harder for you to breathe. “Can you look at me?” He firmly orders but promptly adds a soft, “Please,” when you’re not brave enough to respond to him.

You turn around, hugging your purse and your coat to your chest, facing him but not meeting his eyes. You can feel him analyzing your expression, feel how heavy his gaze is on your face. He bends down slightly, hand reaching out to frame your face like before but you flinch, eyes shutting tightly before he can make any contact.

You can’t see the look on his face as you are too frightened to do so, but you can tell how much you hurt him by the sound of his voice. “You forgot your book,” he states, handing a copy of Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human.

“O-oh, right.” You sound so nervous, so afraid, and you don’t know why. “It’s okay. I won’t be able to read at home anyway—”

“I want you to have it.” It’s the first time he loses the warmth in his voice when he speaks and if you’re not too clouded by your thoughts, if you weren’t so selfish, you would’ve tried your best to fix the situation. But not right now. Right now, you just want to disappear. You want to run back home, run into Donghyuck’s arms like how you’re supposed to be.

Because this is wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not when you have another man waiting for your return.

You take the book from his hand, noticing how your fingers brush his and how they stay that way for a little too long, but Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, tears begin to prickle at the corner of your eyes and you’re still not sure why you’re on the verge of crying.

“Don’t be. It was my fault.” He notices your emotions, he always does, and it breaks you apart to know how much you’re breaking him right now. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Nothing happened,” you convince him, shaking your head and will your tears to go away before they fall down your cheeks. “We didn’t do anything.”

Jaehyun’s fingers curls, nails sinking into his palms as he tries his best to mask what he’s feeling. “You’re right,” he quietly repeats, “Nothing happened.”

***

“Where have you been?”

Your keys slip through your fingers at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice and you’re petrified, millions of thoughts running through your head as you try to come up with an excuse.

But why? Why do you have to come up with an excuse? “Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.” Isn’t that what you said?

“Babe?”

You jump back a couple of steps when Donghyuck walks into your personal space with a frown breaking on his temple. He furrows his eyebrows deeper at your reaction. “You okay? You look kinda pale.”

“Yeah, umm—” You adjust the collar of your turtleneck shirt, suddenly feeling like you’re being choked. “It’s fine—I’m fine. I just had a long day at work.”

“Why didn’t you text me? I could’ve swung by to pick you up.”

You force yourself to smile at his offer. “Thank you. It’s okay, really. Were you waiting for me?”

“Well yeah, I wanted to eat dinner together. It’s been a while since we did that and I wanted to make it up to you.” He cutely pouts and you’re reminded of the reason why you’re so trapped under his spell. “Text me next time when you’re about to come home late so I don’t have to wait for you.”

There it is. It strikes again. The feeling of loneliness. Curling your fingers at the hem of your shirt, you weakly reply with, “I’m sorry.”

Because out of the millions of thoughts that run through your head, that’s the only thing you have the bravery to say out loud.

***

“Hyuck?” You call out, carding your fingers through his soft locks. Donghyuck has his head on your lap with his legs sprawled out, taking most of the couch. His eyes are glued to the screen of his Nintendo Switch, thumb moving frantically to land a new high score. “I think we need to talk.”

Donghyuck doesn't respond right away. After a few relentless movements of his thumbs, he shouts, “Fuck, not again! Goddamn, I gotta restart all over again.” You can see him renewing the game, picking a different character. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just…” You’re nervous, feeling more so than the pain that swells in your chest from not being taken seriously. “It feels like we haven’t been spending time with each other. Properly, I mean.”

“We’re spending time together now, aren’t we?” He hisses when his character takes another damage from his opponent. “What, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

I want us to talk. I want us to laugh. I want us to listen to each other like we used to. “I’m not in the mood for movies right now.”

After taking another shot, Donghyuck groans. “Fuck this stupid game,” he grumbles, throwing his device to the coffee table. “You know what’s annoying? The fact that I could land a perfect high score when I was drunk as fuck but now, I can’t even get into top three!”

Your patience is growing thin, but even then, you can’t find the strength to confront him properly. “Hyuck…”

“Right, sorry.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing his head as he sits straight up, facing you properly. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

You meet his gaze and you realize how rarely you stand in this position, with him looking directly at your face with concern in his eyes. Now that he’s paying you full attention, your vocabulary turns into a blank slate. Your lips are parted but your voice is nowhere to be found, as it is hidden by the fear of speaking beyond control once you let your emotions run loose.

“I…” You begin, clearing your throat to sound less anxious. “Are you happy with me?”

He knits his eyebrows together. “Of course, I’m happy. What are you talking about? Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, it’s…” Your hands lay rigid on your lap, fingers tightening around each other. You weakly smile. “Nothing. I guess I just had some weird thoughts popping in my head.”

“Look, I promise you I’ll do the laundry this weekend,” he confidently convinces you, as if that was the problem you’re currently facing. He pokes you on the nose, grinning boyishly. “Stop acting so weird, you’re creeping me out. What else are you thinking about? If it’s sex you want, you just gotta ask. You know I’m down with it anytime you want.”

“Yeah, of course…” You can force yourself to laugh but every sound you make feels like a knife piercing against your heart. “Sorry, I was just being stupid. You can ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore you, how can I do that? Not when you’re this cute.” He giggles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. But his affection does not make the butterflies in your stomach come alive. It makes hot tears threatening to appear in your eyes. “I like your sweater,” Donghyuck coos, “Is it new?”

No, this is my third time wearing it in front of you. “Yes. I’m glad you noticed.”

“I always notice everything about you.” He ruffles your hair as he stands up, stretching out his arms above his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about? ‘Cause I’m dead tired.”

“No. Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime, babe.” He bends his head down to kiss you fully on the mouth, tongue running along your lower lip just to tease like usual. When he pulls away, he has his juvenile grin intact. “Well, I’m going to bed. If I wake up late tomorrow, you can re-heat the food. I’ve stored everything in the fridge.”

Donghyuck disappears behind the door before you can finish saying good night.

***

The sun’s about to set… He must have been there already.

It has been two days since you last saw Jaehyun. You know you’re not being fair avoiding him like this, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re not brave enough to face him after that. Have you been giving him signs? Was it your fault, was it the expression you made, was it the words you spoke, that made him lean towards you, asking for a kiss that you were more than eager to give?

“Hey, babe,” Lee Donghyuck chirps against your ear, arms finding their way to circle your waist, pulling you to his lap. “What are you doing?”

You’re successful at hiding your surprise but knowing it’s Donghyuck, anything will probably pass by without him realizing. Even when you have spent the last fifteen minutes reading the same paragraph in your book over and over again as your thoughts drift somewhere else.

You have a boyfriend and it’s not Jaehyun. Donghyuck is everything to you now, isn’t he? Yet, if you hadn’t been interrupted by that phone call, you were sure you would’ve yielded to Jaehyun’s touch.

“Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.”

You’re disgusted with yourself.

You throw a glance to the side, your nose nearly brushing his as Donghyuck settles his chin on your shoulder. Unlike Jaehyun who has a fresh, masculine scent, Donghyuck smells like summer and lilacs under the sun. It’s comforting and sweet, yet even after two years, it stills feels somewhat unfamiliar to you.

“Reading a book.” You shiver when he pushes your hair away, placing a lazy wet kiss on your nape, lips parted and tongue pressing against the skin. “Hyuck…”

“It’s okay, keep reading.” Whenever his mouth makes contact with your skin, he adds a hum or a moan to make sure you know that despite his words, he’s not giving you the chance to continue. “You want us to spend more time together, don’t you?”

You deeply exhale, staring lifelessly at the ceiling, sensitive skin being caressed but none of his touches pumps desire through your veins. Since when did I stop wanting him this way? You wonder, feeling guilty when Jaehyun’s face appears in the corner of your mind once more.

“Baby,” Donghyuck murmurs seductively against the skin, thin fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your navel. “Hasn’t it been a while since we last did it?”

“It’s only been a week.”

“And that’s a week too long. I want you.” He strokes your cheek, guiding you to meet his eyes. “Can I touch you?”

It’s a rhetorical question since you both know you can’t say no when he demands something from you. “Of course.”

Donghyuck’s lips still taste the same, feel the same as they suck bruises on your delicate skin but the sparks are no longer there. He used to make you squirm with excitement, body begging under temptation. Sex used to be an adventure, a way for him to make you lose your mind, to have you gasping his name between moans, nails clawing against his back, thighs trembling under his fingertips.

Right now, sex is just… another glue to keep your relationship in place.

Clothes are discarded on the floor, and Donghyuck is sitting with you on his lap, his spine pressed against the couch, nails digging into your hips as he brings you down to take him inch-by-inch. He hisses when he feels you engulfing him with your warmth, head thrown back with lips parted in a blissful moan.

“No matter how much we’ve done it,” he chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “I can never get enough of the way you’re taking me so well, baby.” Donghyuck is a very passionate lover and his lips love to praise, both by words and kisses. The way he calls your name, the way he whispers, “You feel so good around me,” often makes you wonder whether there would be any other man who will desire you this much. But is it love? Does he love you?

Do you love him?

You’re not sure. You don’t know yet. But you know he plays a huge part in your life. Donghyuck once added a spectrum of colors into your previously dull, monochromatic life. You care about him, think about him more than you should, even putting his needs and priorities above yours.

If that’s not love, then what is it?

“Donghyuck…” You flinch when he rocks his hips up, a bit too rough and forceful as he’s getting impatient with the pace you’re going. “I—I think I love you.”

It surprises you that these words can leave your lips but you don’t regret it. It’s the right thing to do, saying these words to him. It’s only natural after the amount of time you’ve spent with him. It’s a way to bridge the gap between you and him, to reignite the flame, to bring laughter back into your life.

To fix the mistake you just made two days ago.

But maybe his thoughts are too clouded with lust, maybe your words are too quiet for him to hear, or maybe you haven’t said the words at all and everything is just playing inside your imagination but no matter what the reason is, Donghyuck doesn’t answer. The words that escape his lips are obscene, a sign that he’s about to finish and you let him pull you closer to his chest, let him sink his face in the crook of your neck, let him groan and release everything inside because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Did you get to come?” He asks, breathless and flushed when he’s finished. His bangs are glued to his temple, sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat and when he strokes your cheekbone with his fingers, they tremble from the pleasure that washed through his body.

“Yes.” You didn’t. You haven’t in a while. It’s not because you didn’t enjoy it. Donghyuck still moved in the way you wanted him to—in the way that used to untie the knots in your stomach, almost making you cry from how good it was. But you’ve begun to realize that there was a part of you missing and Donghyuck isn’t the right piece to complete the puzzle.

Jaehyun.

The dread of having another man’s name running through your head is so much, it almost makes you vomit your insides.

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I said I love you.”

There’s no going around it this time. You’ve said the words, you’ve pronounced them loud and clear but when Donghyuck still doesn’t say anything, you wish the earth could swallow you whole. “Can you… say something, please…?”

“Baby,” he sighs, fingers framing your face so gently, it hurts you. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t love you but—”

You’re stunned, shocked to your core at the incoming rejection but… that’s it.

You don’t feel anything. How can you not feel anything? You don’t feel hurt, you’re not disappointed, you’re just…

Relieved.

“Baby, are you listening?” Donghyuck calls again, grabbing you by your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “I like you. I really do like you. I like you so much but love is such a big word and for me to be committed that way is just… I don’t know, I haven’t figured out my feelings yet. I don’t even understand what love is. I just—I need more time.”

You’re lost for words. How can you tell him? How can you say that you’re so relieved he doesn’t love you back? How can you tell him that his action does not break you apart, but only makes you realize that you’ve just been forcing yourself to stay with him because it feels like it’s the right thing to do?

What if you’re just staying with him because you’re so afraid of being alone, not knowing that loneliness is the only thing he can offer you in return?

“I understand,” you quietly reply, climbing off his lap. Your knees wobble slightly under your weight as your mind travels somewhere else. You gather your clothes into your arms, placing them back on your body.

Donghyuck frowns at your reaction, calling your name as he stands up and pulls his jeans back to place. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you by saying it when I still don’t truly mean it the way you do.”

You can’t look at him, can’t meet his eyes when you can’t even understand how you feel. “I get it, Hyuck, it’s fine.”

But maybe Donghyuck is taking it the wrong way because his voice is laced with both exhaustion and desperation to make this feel any less terrible. “Babe, can we just talk—”

“I said, I’m fine!” You turn around to face him, head dizzy and heart palpitating. It scares you. It scares you that after all this time thinking Donghyuck was the one for you—all the things you’ve done, all the memories you’ve shared—you still don’t understand your feelings for him. You loved him once, you’re sure you loved him once. But is it love if the feeling isn’t eternal? Can you call it love when it fleets by so fast, disappearing without a trace as if it’s never existed in the first place?

To think that these two years you have spent with him would amount to nothing...

You take a deep breath, wishing your body and voice to stop shaking. When you look him in the eyes, there’s nothing but certainty written in your eyes. “You’re right, we need to talk.”

Donghyuck walks to your spot, hand resting against your waist, another one framing your cheek. “Please don’t be mad,” he whispers, and for the first time in the last few months, he does look sorry. “I’m happy to hear you say those words, I really do, but—”

“I want to break up.”

He freezes, jaw dropping low. “What?”

“I want to break up with you, Donghyuck.”

“What—why—” His eyebrows are sewn together, and you take his hand away from your face, breaking free from his hold. “You’re breaking up with me because I can’t say I love you too?”

“No.” You exhale. “I’m breaking up with you because I feel fine with you not saying it back.”

He stands in silence, then his forced chuckles fill the air. “Babe, what are you talking about—”

“Are you happy with me?” The tremble in your voice has receded. “Be honest. Are you truly happy with me? Or are you just going along with everything because you��re so comfortable—so used to the situation of being with me—that you start to think as long as I’m not hurt, it’s fine. As long as I’m not alone, I can keep going with this relationship, even when I’m with someone who doesn’t truly understand me. Or accept the real me.”

Donghyuck releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. His voice is a pitch lower when he speaks, bitter and hurt. “Is that how you feel? All this time when we’re together?”

“No.” Your heart still breaks at the sight of his face. “I think I really did love you once, Hyuck. And if you had rejected me a few months earlier, I would’ve probably broken down crying. But now…” You grow stiff, noticing the infuriated look that’s plastered on his face. “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck stays mute and the silence only adds more tension to the atmosphere. His teeth are grinding against each other when he replies. “Why did you even say you loved me if you weren’t fucking sure about how you felt?”

You twist your finger in the hemline of your shirt, in dire need of something to keep your emotions collected. “I thought it would make us grow closer again. To fix what’s lost between us,” you weakly admit, heart throbbing and breaking at the sight of him. “But then I realized that we shouldn’t say we love someone just because we have to. We should say it because we want to. Because we truly feel that way. But I didn’t feel anything when you didn’t say it back. I only felt… relieved.”

The enraged look on his face forces you to drag your eyes to your feet and you stay still, breathing as quietly as possible. It’s only when Donghyuck starts to reach for his jacket, muttering, “I’m not having any of these bullshits,” as he walks passes you that you dare to look in his direction.

“How easy for you to put this all on me,” he declares with his fingers lingering on the doorknob, so spitefully it shocks you. “You probably think I’m dumb and insensitive, but I know. I’ve noticed the way you changed ever since you met him.”

“What?” His words feel like a slap to the face. “I don’t—”

“You know,” he cynically laughs into the air, throwing his head back. “Just because you found someone who makes you happy ‘cause he can quote your favorite lines, read your favorite books or listen to the same shit you like, doesn’t mean you can throw me away like I’m some fucking garbage.”

You’re petrified by his words. Somewhere in your head, you keep saying that the reason why you’re breaking up with him is that you’re so different from each other—that there would be little to no chance for the two of you to understand one another even if you’re given all the time in the world. But you can’t deny that there’s a part of you that completely rejects Donghyuck simply because you’ve stopped wanting him as much as you want Jaehyun.

It sickens you.

“I’m…” It’s suffocating. The tension in the air, his eyes, the way your heartbeat is ramming against your ribcages. “I’m sorry...”

Your apology only aggravates him more and with gritted teeth, Donghyuck slams the door behind him, leaving you alone in the silence of your room.

Your apartment has never felt this big before.

***

It’s funny how you just ended your two years relationship with your boyfriend but Donghyuck isn’t the one you’ve been avoiding for months. It’s Jaehyun.

Something is gnawing at you from the inside, the feeling of guilt as if you just sinned. You didn’t cheat on your boyfriend. Physically, you didn’t. You’re attracted to Jaehyun, everybody would be to someone who owns such a handsome face and delicate features. But it’s more than just physical attraction because when you lay at night in your bed, alone and empty, it’s not his face that comes to mind. It’s the little thing he does, the way he listens to your words so attentively, the way he smiles—happy and sad at the same time, the way he greets you, the way he nibbles at his lower lip as he tries to think of a word to write on his note.

And the dreams.

The dreams never stop, they only grow stronger. You can remember each and every one of them crystal clear when you wake up. They’re usually different every night but for the last few days, the atmosphere and the surroundings were the same.

In the dream, you were lying down in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but your white gown, too weak to even lift a finger. Jaehyun was sitting on a wooden chair with a book in his hand—the one that he presented you as a gift in real life—while his other hand was holding yours, thumb tenderly gliding against your knuckles. He seemed much thinner, cheekbones growing prominent with dark eye-bags tainting his pale skin. But his smile was the same, just as warm, just as tender.

He was reading you a story, one that you had memorized by heart from how many times you’ve read it. But it’s different when he read the words out loud, voice melodious and soothing, like a mother’s lullaby. When it was over, he beamed at you, asking, “What’s your favorite part of the story?” And you opened your mouth but no words could come out. You were losing your voice, could only make croaking sounds and even that already put a strain on your body. You could see how much it broke him to hear you struggle but he waited patiently, hand squeezing yours tighter.

“Me too,” he responded after he heard your answer, kissing your knuckles. “I like that one too.”

In another dream, you saw him sitting at the edge of your bed, his mouth still formed that beautiful, delicate smile, but his eyes were as heavy as the storm. You asked him, why, what’s wrong, trying your best to let your voice break free from your mouth. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I won’t let anything separates us,” he said and it felt more like a promise than how it sounded. “Not time, not death, nothing. I will always be with you.” He let his lips linger on your temple as he whispered the next words. “So it’s okay if you want to sleep. I won’t be going anywhere.”

Then… I’ll see you again when I wake up.

“Yes.” He leaned closer, letting his lips meet your chapped ones in a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

But by the time you opened your eyes, heart thrumming loudly inside your chest, with the sound of the alarm in your phone muffled by your pillow, you knew that in the dream, once you go to sleep, you’d never be able to wake up.

I have to see him.

***

Three months have passed since you last saw him. It’s funny that despite how close you are to each other, know each other like the back of your hand, you just only realize now that you haven’t given him a way to contact you. No home address. No phone numbers. No social media. You’re not even sure what his last name was. You never needed to know his contact details before. Every day, an hour before the sun is replaced by the moon, you will meet each other here in this library—that was the unspoken promise between you and neither of you ever broke it. Not until now. The second you stop coming to the library, you disappear from his life as well, as easy as snapping your fingers.

The quickest way to see him is by visiting the library. Today you will see him. You just have to.

It’s raining hard, hard enough to drench you to your socks, painting shivers to each of your fingertips. It’s a Sunday evening, the sun is an hour away from setting behind the horizon. But with how heavy the rain is going, the day will turn into the night before the sun can shine its light through the clouds again.

Hesitation arises within you as you take shelter on the porch, your shivering fingers circling the doorknob to the library. He might not even be here in this kind of weather, you miserably think to yourself. It wasn’t raining when you took your leave half an hour earlier but you should’ve noticed how thick and dark the clouds were. Your thoughts were too jumbled that you didn’t even think about carrying an umbrella with you.

But you’re already here and if he still keeps his promise…

You take a step inside.

Your clothes are drenched but thankfully they’re not dripping water to the carpeted floor. It’s warmer inside, so warm that you feel like you’re home, sitting close to a fireplace, basking in the scent of sandalwood. Your eyes naturally scan the room, taking a longer glance at the table where you usually sit in front of him, a book in your hands, a smile strapped to your face. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be seen.

He’s not here. Is it because of the rain? Or… Maybe he has stopped coming here to see me.

You can only realize how important someone is to you when they’re gone and it hurts so much that you have to nip at your lower lip, fingers curling around the end of your sweater.

I want to see him again…

“You’re here…”

You turn your head to the source of his voice, heart about to burst when you see Jaehyun stopping on his tracks, one hand holding the entrance door open, another one carrying a folded umbrella that drips water to the floor. He’s so stunned at the sight of you, he doesn’t even appear to be breathing. In a whisper, your name breaks free from his lips.

And you run towards him with all your might.

He nearly stumbles from how hard you’re crushing your body against his, his umbrella falling from his grip but he doesn’t push you away. Jaehyun is warm, warmer than everything you’ve ever held and you wonder whether you’re just freezing from the cold or he’s always been this comforting. It feels so natural to stay in his embrace, to be wrapped with his strong arms, to have him whisper your name against the shell of your ear.

I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.

Jaehyun...

The first tear that slips down your cheek is an accident, as you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t even know why you’re crying but you can’t stop. You sob against his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his knitted sweater, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying harder but failing every time.

Jaehyun never breaks away from your embrace. He does not care if people stare, does not listen to the murmurs being exchanged at the back of the room. He pulls you closer, one hand holding you around the waist and the other one stroking your damp hair. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, overwhelming you with his scent, his warmth, his voice, his everything and you still want more. His lips nearly brush against the tip of your ear when he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

Your hands are now fisting the back of his sweater, pressing your cheek to his chest as you muffle your cry, focusing more on the sound of his heartbeat. It feels like a dream, one that you never want to wake up.

It’s only when you have the strength to pull away from him that he releases you. He swipes his thumb under your eye, erasing the stains of your tears. He looks at you in a way that is so different than the way Donghyuck used to. His gaze is softer, a mix between the feeling of relief for having you in his arms and a yearning to have more as if you’re still far away from his reach.

I want him to stare at me like this forever.

“You’re freezing,” he says, noticing the coldness of your cheek against his palm. “Would you like to come over to my place? I can make you something warm.”

You let out a tiny laugh. “That would be nice.”

***

Jaehyun’s sweater is too big that the hem falls to the middle of your thighs. Your clothes are in the dryer, making rumbling noise that’s loud enough to fill the awkward silence between you. Drying your hair with a towel he gave you, you take a seat next to him, careful enough not to invade his personal space too much.

“How are you feeling?” Jaehyun asks, handing you a cup of hot chocolate.

“Warmer now, thanks.” You wrap your fingers around the mug, seeing a cloud of steam erupting from your drink.

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I’m glad you look fine.”

“I am. I feel fine. More so than I’ve ever been.” And it’s not a lie. Being here with him, despite everything that happened, makes you feel at ease. He makes you feel as if you had been embarking on a trip for so long and now you’re finally home. “Were you, umm…” Were you planning to wait for me at the library? Have you been waiting for me all this time? Or was it just a mere coincidence that we bumped into each other again?

“Were I what?”

“Never mind.” You don’t have the bravery to do it. Flushed, you quickly take a sip of your drink.

“I was about to wait for you,” he suddenly confesses, nearly making you choke. “I was… worried about you. I kept wondering whether something bad happened.” His voice gradually turns into murmurs as he continues. “And I thought... After what happened... You hated me.”

The ticking sound of the clock echoes like thunder when silence hangs in the room. “I would never hate you, Jaehyun…” You’re unconsciously rubbing the edge of your mug with your thumb, eyes fixated on the glass instead of him. “There’s no way I could hate you.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him turning his head to face you. “Well, you stopped visiting for three months without leaving a word. It was hard for me to stay positive,” he says, a bit teasingly, “And I had no idea how to contact you either. I didn’t know what else to do but wait in the library every day until I could see you again. So that’s what I did.”

Blood is rushing to your face. He did wait for me. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He chuckles and you just realized how much you missed hearing it. “You don’t need to. I’m glad we can meet again.”

“Me too.” You mirror his smile. “You know, you could’ve just looked me up online.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” He asks and your heart stops. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You have to tell him the truth, you owe him that much. “I couldn’t. The way Donghyuck looked at me when I broke up with him made me feel so guilty and I knew I would hate myself even more if I ran back to you right after.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questions in a whisper. “What did you feel guilty for?”

Your heartbeat roars so thunderously loud, you can hear it in your ears. “Because he said the reason why I broke up with him was that… I had feelings for you.”

Jaehyun stays in silence for a few seconds and it drives you insane. Eventually, he leans forward to lay his cup down on the coffee table. “So…” He hesitantly speaks. “Did you tell him he was wrong about that?”

You tighten your hold around your cup. “I…” Taking a deep breath, you confess. “I didn’t.”

And there are so many things to be said, but none of you dares to speak. The silence is deafening, its invisible arms strangling you little by little and you’re trapped, not knowing whether to ask him to respond or just run away before your heart explodes to pieces.

Jaehyun does that look again where he stares at you like you own his heart, giving you the permission to hold it or crush it however you like. “Your hair is still dripping water,” he says, reaching out to place his hands around the towel and gently dab your strands, squeezing out the excess water and he’s so close, you can truly see the color of his eyes. In the soft, yellowish light of his room, they’re a little bit darker, a stark contrast to his pale skin. You’re distracted with the way his eyes shimmer under the light, the way he breathes so softly, warm breath hitting your lips.

And you don’t know who initiate it, but for the next breath you take, you’re gasping for it against his mouth. Jaehyun’s lips move slow against yours, tentative and patient, waiting for you to react. But he doesn’t have to wait, not when you’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Not when both of you have been wishing for it to happen.

If your mind wasn’t too deluded with the thoughts of him, how he feels against your body, how he tastes on your tongue, how the low grunt and moan that escape from the back of his throat successfully send shivers down your spine, you would’ve probably thought about how different he was compared to Donghyuck. Jaehyun was so tender, cradling your figure so gently as if you were about to break into pieces if he moves too fast. His kisses aren’t as rushed and bruising as Donghyuck’s, but they’re deep and just as passionate, if not more. The effects that his lips have on your skin burn stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. And if you thought Donghyuck reminded you of the sun, Jaehyun was the blazing sun himself.

But you couldn’t think of Donghyuck. You can’t think of anything else but Jaehyun. Right now, he’s the only one that matters.

“Push me away anytime you want,” he says, eyes dark and hazy, as he circles a hand around your waist to press your body flat against his chest.

With one hand fisting his collar, you let your lips taste him once more. “I never want you to.”

Your soft gasp is muffled by the skin of his neck when Jaehyun lifts your body off the couch, and you tangle your legs around his waist for support as he carries you toward his bedroom. Despite the growing, overwhelming passion between you, he lies you down so gently on the bed, hovering above you as he paints your name at the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, pulling him closer and closer until you can sink completely into his warmth.

No words are being exchanged because they don’t need to. Jaehyun speaks with his eyes, expresses his feelings with his lips, and carves your body with nothing but affection and adoration with his gentle hands. It amazes you how different sex can feel when there are feelings involved. It’s a connection, not just between your body and his but your mind, your soul, and every bit of your heart.

You’re more sensitive to his touch that even the slightest slide of his finger can make you arch your back. Jaehyun swallows every gasp, every moan of his name that tumbles down your lips and you do just the same with his.

He only stops to give you the chance to catch your breath when he’s fully sheathed inside you. His fingers tremble as they caress your face. “Are you okay?” He asks, sounding breathless and hoarse. He looks even more beautiful like this, skin glistening with sweat, lips bruised and swollen by kisses, pale cheeks reddening at the feeling of you peering into his eyes.

You smile, gaze softening. “I’m fine.”

Jaehyun has never looked so content before, so relieved, so happy and it makes you feel something in your stomach—something that you haven’t felt for months—to know that you’re the reason behind his most genuine, beautiful smile. When he whispers, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me,” into your ear, you know that he’s not talking about the time you were absent from the library. His words have more weight to them as if he’s been waiting for you for years as if you once belonged to him before something separated the strings between you.

“I’m going to move, okay?” Jaehyun murmurs against your lips, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding a little.

He takes it slow, waiting for you to adjust to his rhythm as he keeps his eyes on your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a small moan, barely audible. He splays one hand on the inner part of your thigh, fingers pressing hard against the supple skin as he pins it down to the bed, spreading your legs wider so he can press himself deeper inside you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your jawline. “So beautiful…”

You nibble at your lip, circling your arms around his shoulders, raking your nails down his back as he picks up the pace. He’s perfect, he’s so perfect at everything he does—the sway of his hips, the angle, the way he changes from giving shallow to deep thrusts in accordance to your expression, knowing exactly what you need.

He kisses you every time you give him the chance and it makes everything a lot more intimate, makes you feel more vulnerable, makes you feel more exposed. “I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead pressing against your own. “I’ve always been… All this time…”

There’s a surge of joy washing through your entire body and it’s so intense, you find yourself hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your vision blurred with tears. How can you feel so complete when this is your first time with him?

“Jae—” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you wrap your legs around his hips, arms hugging his shoulders tighter. “Jaehyun, I’m—I’m close—”

At your words, Jaehyun untangles your arms from his body and sits on his heels. He takes a hold of your waist and slams his hips harder to yours, driving you to the edge until you’re left sobbing against the sheets. He pulls away on the last second to finish himself off, tainting your stomach as a low grunt breaks free from the back of his throat. His bangs are falling over his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down from his chest to his lean stomach and he still looks like a painting, one that you can’t seem to stop admiring.

“Wait, don’t move,” he says as if you had the strength to do so. “I’ll clean you up.”

When he comes back from the bathroom, fully clothed in a white tee and black sweat pants, he takes care of you so attentively, dabbing warm towel along your skin, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. A gentle smile never leaves his face but he blushes whenever your eyes make eye contact, though not as apparent as the shakes on his fingertips.

“You’re so good at this,” you tease him, propping your elbows on the bed. “Must have a lot of experience with women, I’m sure.”

“I’ve only ever been with you,” he answers and it doesn’t sound like a lie.

“What?”

His movement stops, acknowledging the appalled look on your face. “There’s… something you need to know.” He slips under the comforter, lying down on his side, and makes sure it covers your body to your shoulders to keep you warm. “That day, when we first met… It wasn’t our first time meeting each other.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows are adjoined in the middle. “When did we first meet then?”

Jaehyun falls quiet, eyes searching yours. “In the same library,” he says, “Seventy-four years ago.”

***

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips as you scan your surroundings. Jaehyun has taken you somewhere you haven’t been before, a rural area in the foothills of Jiri Mountain. After spending more than three hours drive from Seoul, seeing nothing but never-ending roads and traffic signs, it feels refreshing to see a charming little village, blanketed in a snow of white and soft pink, with the sound of water streams soothing your ears and cold wind of April caressing your cheeks.

“Hwagae,” he claims, his hand never leaving yours as he walks next to you, taking shorter strides to match your step. “People usually think that Jinhae is the best place to see cherry blossoms, but for me, it’s here.” He glances at the way your fingers are intertwined with his, smiling timidly to himself. “But maybe due to personal reasons.”

“Well, you’re not lying…” You murmur in awe, eyes widening at the sight of cherry blossoms trees that line the road, following both sides of a turquoise-blue stream, pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. “It’s beautiful.”

You can hardly pay attention to anything else so when Jaehyun presses a kiss against your hairline, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “It is, isn’t it?” He says, pushing some loose strands behind your ear. “Beautiful.”

With his eyes locked with yours, it seems like he’s praising something else and you look away, cheeks heating up at his words. “How long does this road goes?”

“Around four kilometers.” Jaehyun follows your steps. “There are more than a thousand cherry blossom trees around. Locals call this lane the Marriage Road as it is said that lovers who walk hand-in-hand under the trees will get married and live happily ever after.”

He tightens his grips around your hand, and you can swear your palm is getting sweaty from how nervous you are. “You just can’t stop making me blush, can you?”

“I’m just stating out facts.” He chuckles and it’s even more beautiful than the whole scenery. He’s more beautiful than anything you’ve seen. But when he speaks, all trace of humor has dissipated. “You may not remember but... This was the place where I asked you to marry me.”

You have seen it coming but it still shocks you, nonetheless. It’s easier to treat him as a liar who’s telling superstitious stories and pointing things about you because he’s a stalker that knows more about you than he should. But the more he tells his stories, the more they feel like the truth and it’s not just a hunch. His stories are his versions of the dreams you’ve been having. The dreams that you’ve gotten ever since you first met him, and you never told anyone about that.

As you take a seat on the nearest bench, Jaehyun hands you his journal—the one he’s been using to write his novel. “I think it’s time for you to read the story.” But as you reach out to open it, he lays his hand on top of yours. “Before that,” he says, “Remember what I asked you? I want you to guess the ending for me.”

You’ve never thought about it, never imagined how the ending of his story would unravel. He has told you that it was about a pair of lovers meeting each other by fate and separated tragically by death, you knew that much. But anything could’ve separated them, whether it was because of sickness, accident, or simply because of old age, you could’ve guessed wrong. Yet, when your lips moved without thinking, providing answers that make your heart jolt, Jaehyun smiles and says, “Correct.” He then opens the book and gives you the chance to run your eyes through every passage. It’s written in a first-person narrative, allowing you to see through Jaehyun’s eyes as he unveils his story.

The female lead has your name.

Every line. Every word. Every description. They feel like deja vu and the tiny hairs at your nape begin to raise. Your fingertips tremble as they move to open new pages. These are memories. They truly happened in the past. As you read, you can feel your own coming back, little by little, and by the time you’re halfway through the story, you can guess the next part that’s about to happen or correct little details that may have slipped from his mind.

“They were lilies,” you say, fingers tracing his perfect handwriting. “Not white roses.”

“What?”

“The flowers you gave me on our first anniversary.”

Jaehyun takes a shaky breath, and when he chuckles it sounds like a peal of tiny laughter and a choked sob at the same time. “Is that so?” He weakly asks, fixing his gaze to his lap. “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”

But he remembers everything else, everything that matters, even the way he felt back then. You could tell the love he once experienced with you through his eyes, the longing he has suffered as he waits for you to remember him once more, and the agony of being separated from you.

It’s easier to cry than to breathe when the memories of your past life start to dawn on you but you provide your best effort to stay reserved. There are more you need to learn.

The reason why he visited the library was not because he lived nearby. He moved there so he could visit the library, as it was the first time he met you in the previous life. “I was hoping she would remember the place as it was something we both grew fond of,” Jaehyun wrote in his journal, “She always thought I had a passion for books. She was wrong. She was the one who taught me that stories could mean something more. That they could make you feel alive, make you feel something you’ve never experienced just by words. I’d like to believe that these stories were the ones who brought us together, so we could create our own and maybe then, we could inspire other people—to make them feel alive with our stories.

I waited for her every day, from one season to another. The memories I have of her have always been there with me ever since I could remember, but that did not guarantee hers would resurface. Maybe she was looking for me. Maybe she was not. Either way, I couldn’t give up. I would not give up.

And finally, one day, I saw her again. In the same library, with the same little smile she always had whenever she had her eyes fixated on her book. She appeared exactly the same as the first time I met her 74 years ago. I could not breathe, trapped between reaching out to her or just standing still in the distance, because when our eyes met for a brief second, she looked away.

She did not remember me.

I was crushed. Devastated. I was nothing but a stranger. Twenty-five years I had been searching for her and now that she stood before me, I lost the ability to speak. It took me another week until I could find the bravery within me. I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible, even when my heart was breaking, even when my hands were shaking. I sank my nails into my palms so I wouldn’t take her hand and pull her into my embrace. When she told me her name, I was shocked. Her last name was different but her first name was the same, and I wanted to laugh. Fate could be so cruel, letting her keep her name but not her memories.

But memories could be re-created, and I learned that none of her habits had changed. I might be a stranger, but to me, she was not. She was my wife and I wanted to hold her. I wanted to tell her I love her and hear her say the words back to me. I was ready to start over, to make her fall in love with me once more but before I could even begin, I learned that she had belonged to someone else.

And what killed me was that… She did not look happy with him.”

Your breathing stalls. Everything makes sense now. He’s been holding everything to himself. This was the secret he kept from you. And that time when he almost kissed you… What did you say to him?

“Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

That’s what he did. He stopped pretending.

And you pushed him away, treating both of your feelings and his like a mere high school crush when they were something deeper than anything you’ve ever had.

You place your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it until it grows white. He must have been so hurt, you realize, I’m the worst.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks, reaching out to take your hand. “You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I—” You shake your head, hoping the tears won’t fall. You give him a reassuring smile. “I want to. I need to remember.” Your smile doesn’t deceive him but he gives you the space you need, believing the honesty in your words.

Your marriage with him only lasted for four years before you passed away in your sleep, your weak lungs could no longer support your system, and through his story, you learned that Jaehyun followed you to the place he shouldn’t have. Because just a few minutes later after you took your final breath, he slit both of his wrists with a knife and hugged your body close to his chest, his blood drenching the white sheets underneath. His lips lingered against your hairline as he spoke, “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

His neat handwriting starts to turn into dark splotches of ink as it is tainted by your tears. You’ve remembered. You’ve remembered everything. Everything that makes you happy and everything that hurts, you’re reliving each and every one of them.

“Why?” You sob, shoulders quivering as you try to keep your emotions contained. “Why did you do that? You could’ve lived for many more years. Could’ve found someone else.” You bury your face in your palms, voice muffled by your skin. “You could’ve been happy without me.”

You can’t see how he looks at you, can’t feel his touch as he’s nowhere near, but you hear him take his breath. “My mother used to say,” he says, “that two people who are meant to be would always find their way to each other, even in the afterlife.” Jaehyun moves and kneels on the ground in front of you, his hands prying yours away from your face and his smile has never looked this blissful. “That’s why,” he continues, voice so soft it’s almost as light as the wind. “If there’s a chance, no matter how little it is, for me to see you again I would gladly trade my eternity for it.”

There are emotions you can’t explain, ones that you can’t understand. Emotions that make you cry as if the world was ending but also ones that make you feel so blessed to be born into this world, to be able to see him again, to witness his beautiful smile, his beautiful soul, and the beautiful love he has for you.

“Why are you crying?” Jaehyun chuckles softly but the quiver in his voice betrays him. He strokes your cheek, drying your tears with the pad of his thumb.

Leaning into his touch, you sob against his palm, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you, Jaehyun. Even if my memories never came back, I’d still fall in love with you. Over and over again. I’m sorry you had to wait—”

Jaehyun abruptly stands on his knees, pulling you into his embrace. As your eyes widen in surprise, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering, “If I had to wait a thousand years to be able to have this one moment with you, I’d gladly do it in a heartbeat.” His shoulders begin to shake and you wrap your arms around them, drenching the fabric of his shirt with your tears. “I love you too.”

There’s a voice inside your head that says, ah... so this is how it feels.

Love... is not so complex after all. It doesn’t have to be. It’s not something to be understood. It’s not something to be thought endlessly. It’s not a choice to be made.

It’s a feeling, and feelings are meant to be felt. And you realize that happiness does not only emerge when your love is answered with the same passion. Happiness is already there in your heart just by loving him. You love him. You just love him. Entirely. Infinitely.

So you kiss him with the biggest smile you can make, you pull him close with every strength that you have and you let him stay. In this life or another, you will let him stay.

And you will see him again when you wake up.

***

#jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #haechan smut #haechan fluff #jaehyun scenarios #haechan scenarios #jaehyun imagines #haechan imagines #jaehyun x reader #haechan x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jaehyun timestamps #nct timestamps #nct smut #nct fluff #haechan timestamps #donghyuck smut #jaehyun drabbles #haechan drabbles #nct x reader #oh god this is the first time i'm writing a fic for jaehyun i hope i'm not ruining his characterization #and as a sunflower who wrote A LOT of haechan-centered fics it literally HURT ME to write haechan this way #haechan baby i love you you're perfect never change a thing #i'm sorry i had to ruin your character in this fic it was necessary for the plot #but you're not a jerk baby you're a doll!#esme i'm sorry if this sucks but i've tried my best and I hope you'll enjoy this just as much as I enjoyed writing this down!

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bubblesuga · 4 years

Text

A Match Into Water

Summary: Sometimes all Yoongi needs is a warm cabin, and you. W/C: 2,068 Warnings: mentions of smut, cussing, slight angst but mostly fluff

There’s something undeniably gorgeous about the Rocky Mountains of the western US. The sun shines brightly in the middle of the day and cloud coverage is practically non-existent, yet the snow resting on the peaks of the mountains persists like the buzzing of a bee desperately trying to find it’s hive.

At times, it becomes more of a hindrance to Min Yoongi. He doesn’t like the cold. Hell, he hates it. The brush of the cold winter breeze drags his mood down into the deepest depths of a sinking black hole that he just can’t seem to pull himself away from. This vacation was supposed to help him, bring his mood up and inspire his creativity. Unfortunately it seems to have had the opposite affect.

“Oh come on,” the girl who followed him on this company appointed vacation is cute, she knows English and helps Yoongi get around, “you’re supposed to be having fun.”

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?” Yoongi drawls, sipping his warm coffee and sitting in front of the wide window of the rented cabin. American coffee sucks.

“I’m insufferable? Min Yoongi, you have not left this cabin once since we arrived. You’re like a fucking cat that doesn’t want to move from the one spot of sun inside the house.” her voice is loud, confident. Her lips curl downward and for a moment, Yoongi feels disappointment rush through his veins. He prefers her smile more than he’d be willing to admit.

He shrugs, taking a long sip, “I like the sun.”

She groans, falling back onto the well decorated couch, “Can you at least try skiing?”

“Skiing involves the cold.”

“Yeah, Yoongi. It’s winter.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to come here! Maybe I wanted to stay in Korea, I wanted to write the album, and I wanted to move on!” Yoongi bites back, setting down his cup and turning to her. Her face is red, but she stares up at the ceiling as if she’s alone in the room. Yoongi resists the urge to lay beside her, to stroke her hair and ask if she’ll kiss him.

She huffs, pulling herself up and meeting Yoongi’s eyes, “I’m sorry you didn’t get that opportunity. You’ve been in a rut and your company thought it’d be best for you to get away.”

“Ah, and why’d they bring you here with me then?”

“I’m your assistant, you dick.” she stands again and walks away momentarily. For a moment Yoongi thinks he went too far, sometimes the venom at the tip of is tongue moves too fast for him to catch with his lips. It’s not even true, he wants her here more than anyone else.

When she reemerges from Yoongi’s room, she holds a jacket and warm sweats.

“Change into these, we’re going down the mountain and shopping.” she’s demanding, maybe Yoongi should listen to her.

“Why? If you’re my assistant, shouldn’t you be listening to what I want?” not without a little fight, though.

“Now, Min Yoongi.”

He chuckles, downing the rest of his coffee and slipping off the hoodie he already wore for the warmer jacket you brought out. She tries not to let her eyes linger on his briefly exposed abdomen when his shirt slides up with his hoodie. Instead, she opts for a nice look at the scenery outside.

Yoongi’s legs briefly feel the cold of the cabin on his bare legs as he slips on the warm sweats. He’s let himself become comfortable with his assistant, more so than the past women who followed him around and listened to his every wish. This one is different. She’s feisty, opinionated, determined. He likes that a lot. Especially when she crosses her arms and pouts when he tries to fight her decisions.

He glances at her, the sun reflecting off the snow and shining in her gorgeous eyes. He knows he shouldn’t feel the things he feels for her, but she makes it so damn difficult not to. How was he not supposed to fall for the pretty girl who smiles big and tells him when he’s being an asshole? Everything about her was exactly what he wanted in a woman. So, maybe listening to her wasn’t such a bad thing.

~*~*~

“When I graduated college, I traveled throughout the world for a year. It made learning English pretty easy.” she shrugs, twirling the pasta around her fork. After shopping for a few hours, Yoongi insisted on stopping at the one Italian restaurant in the small valley at the bottom of the mountains. He only insisted because he knows it’s her favorite.

“Ah, without you here I would be screwed.” Yoongi shrugs, reaching his fork across the table and digging it into a piece of chicken on her plate. She doesn’t make the effort to slap his hand away, instead reaching for his sangria and taking a sip.

“I think that in a lot of aspects in your life. Where would you be if I didn’t pick out your outfits for the day?” she giggles as she speaks, already knowing the answer to her ridiculous question.

“Hm,” he hums, slurping up some of his own food and pausing to swallow, “struggling to tell my right from my left sock.”

Yoongi grins from ear to ear the moment her laughter leaves her lips.

This is how their days together were usually spent in Korea, so the fact that the slush covered streets didn’t deter the two of them made moments like these even more special.

“Why don’t you date?” she asks suddenly, stacking their plates as they were cleared off.

Yoongi nearly chokes on his drink, taking a deep breath through his nose before swallowing the liquid in his mouth. He clears his throat, “what makes you ask that?”

“Well,” her face turns slightly red, “I’ve seen all the other members dating. Bring people home. I’ve just never seen you do that so I was just curious as to why.”

He can tell that she feels like she’s over stepping a boundary. Maybe she is. Of course it’s not appropriate for an assistant to ask her boss why he isn’t so keen on finding a woman to date. Yet, Yoongi isn’t upset by the question. Shocked? Possibly, but he doesn’t feel the need to deny her of an answer.

“I have my eye on someone, I’m just not sure if she knows that I like her yet.” his words fall off his lips unstirred, landing into a pile on the table that Yoongi suddenly feels desperate to wipe away. Why even give her the notion that he may be interested in her?

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite brighten up her face like her usual ones, “Who’s the lucky guy or gal?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, “Lucky, eh?”

“Well, yeah,” she laughs nervously, as though she didn’t mean to say what she said, “you’re a catch, Min Yoongi. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

He chuckles, that same breathy chuckle that seems to have an affect on women he meets. It comes across as careless, unwavering in his attempt to pull off his cool persona, yet it’s really just a ruse to hide the fact that he wants nothing more than to take this woman home and fall asleep with her between his arms. Yoongi meets her eyes momentarily, catching a shine in her shaking pupil. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes drag to his assistants lips. They’re cherry red, stained with the remnants of his cherry sangria. He bets they’d taste amazing.

Nodding, he speaks, “Would you feel lucky to have me?”

Her breath stutters as her eyes go wide. She seems to contemplate for a moment before she opens her mouth, “U- uhm, I’ll go get the bill.”

Abruptly, she turns away and walks towards the front counter. Yoongi sighs, waiting for a moment before placing a 20 on the table and collecting both of their things. Multiple bags from various stores around the valley fill his arms and he quietly follows her back out into the street.

In an almost unspoken decision, the two of them begin their trek back to the car and Yoongi drives them back into the mountains just as the sun is about to set.

Though silent, Yoongi could tell his assistant was nervous. Her fingers fiddled in her lap while she stared out of the window into the dark wooded road.

Perhaps he had been to abrupt. Perhaps he should have broke his interest to her a little slower. Or not at all. It probably would have been better for anyone if he didn’t say anything at all.

~*~*~

His usual night routine began with a shower. Afterward, he brushed his teeth and blow dried his hair. Then, he turned on the bedside lamp and opened a book Namjoon had suggested to him ages ago. ‘The Unbearable Lightness of Being’ has become some sort of sick irony to him now. Minus the mistress, living awkwardly with a woman and not being able to leave quite yet was how he lived his life.

It’s only been 2 days since he said anything to her, yet it felt like an eternity. There wasn’t anymore jokes, nor did he feel like he could speak to her as an equal. She called him Mr. Min, and it hurt.

Suddenly, he hears a knock on his door frame. He glances up, and she stands in his doorway in her sleep wear. An oversized T-shirt and shorts that hid subtly beneath.

“Hello.” he greets, closing his book and setting it on the night stand. Sliding his glasses off his face, he turns his attention to her. She fiddles with the hem of her shirt, swallowing nervously.

“When you asked if I would feel lucky to be with you, what did you mean?”

Oh, so we’re getting right into it.

Despite only being a couple years younger than Yoongi, she seemed nearly child-like as she asked the question. Her eyes stay glued to her feet while she sways gently.

“Just that. Would you feel lucky to be with me?”

She nearly scoffs, “What kind of a question is that?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Answer the question.”

With a huff, she walks into the room and sits at the foot of Yoongi’s bed, “Of course I would be lucky to be with you, dumbass. You’re Min Yoongi.”

“No,” Yoongi isn’t satisfied with that answer, “would you be satisfied with just being with Yoongi. Not Suga of BTS, not Agust D. Just... Yoongi.”

She tilts her head adorably, her forehead creasing with concern, “That’s what I mean. You’re Yoongi, I’d be the luckiest girl in the world.”

He smiles, crossing his legs and leaning forward, “That’s what sets you apart from other people. They don’t want just Yoongi. They want the identity I’ve created for the public.”

“So that’s why you don’t want to date?”

“I do,” he sighs, “I just want to with you.”

She swallows, “Are you asking me out?”

Yoongi shrugs, “If that’s what you want this to be, then yes.”

As though the heavens had opened up and an angel had descended right in front of Yoongi, her face is bright with delight. She leans forward, crashing her lips onto Yoongi’s.

He’s quick to wrap his arms around her, bringing her as close to him as possible. Her frame fits against his perfectly, just as he had imagined so many times before. Yoongi feels his abdomen ignite with butterflies while her hands move to cup his cheeks. She rests her forehead gently against his, her breathing ragged.

“Maybe this vacation wasn’t so bad.” Yoongi jokes, kissing each of her cheeks.

Her eyes flutter close, “I’ve been telling you that from the beginning.”

He grins, “I wanted you to prove it to me.”

“Well, did I?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, he simply brings his lips back to hers.

He gently lays her onto the bed, careful not to break the kiss. Her hands grip the back of his shirt as if he could disappear in her arms. It takes everything in him not to begin kissing down her neck, the last thing he wants is to scare her off. Yet, she encourages him.

“I’m on the pill.” She whispers against his lips, and Yoongi grins. This was going to be a very fun night.

#hope y'all enjoyyyy #min yoongi #bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader fluff #yoongi x reader smut #min yoongi x yn #yoongi x yn #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts x reader

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vizowrites · 3 years

Text

My BlitzStrike Twins: Headcanons and Shenanigans~ [probably with a bit of my M&M kids thrown in just for fun]

So today I got a couple of fantastic asks about Blitz and Striker as parents, and since there seemed to be a pretty positive response to them--and because @helluva-simp is amazing and encouraged me to be brave enough to write this up--I thought I’d go ahead and make a full post of my headcanons for these two little devils. I really do love the hell out of them and hope you guys enjoy hearing about them too!! <3 <3

Twist’s and Ty’s full names are Twister and Typhoon but literally nobody calls them by their full names ever so they like to make the joke of “the ‘-er’ and the ‘-phoon’ are silent”

Ty is actually the older of the two [though not by much] but everyone thinks that Twist is because his name is always called first. It’s always “Twist and Ty” [or just collectively “Twist-Ty”] instead of “Ty and Twist”. Ty honestly doesn’t mind that much as far as following after his brother goes, just don’t make the mistake of trying to label him as the younger of the two. There are a lot of things Ty’s perfectly content to let Twist take the lead in, but having the title of “the older twin” is just going too far.

Twist and Ty are mirror twins, meaning that they’re mostly identical except for a few key things: 1. Twist is left handed and Ty is right handed, 2. they both have heterochromia but Twist’s eyes are Left: Red | Right: Green-Gold whereas Ty’s eyes are Left: Green-Gold | Right: Red, 3. Twist has a birthmark on his right hand and Ty has his birthmark on his left hand--and yes when you put the two marks together, they form a design not unlike the heart shaped one on Blitz’s forehead :)

Both of the twins are incredibly agile, but Twist is faster and Ty is more flexible

Striker affectionately calls Twist “Whirlwind” because of said fastness

Blitz affectionately calls Ty “Noodle” because of said flexibility

.....Though it should be noted that it’s not all fun and games because Twist is CONSTANTLY crashing into things or tripping over his own two feet from going too fast, and Ty is so flexible that he’s able to contort himself into positions that honestly make both of his parents throw up a little in their mouths with the split-second panic of “OH GOD OUR BABY WAS BORN WITHOUT BONES!!” DX DX They’re both usually just fine tho!! :D

As noted in an earlier post--but I want to say it here too--Twist’s first word was “Bang!” and Ty’s first word was “Fuck!” Twist was the first one to talk, though, and it made Striker and Blitz second guess the context of his first word by the time Ty said his. XD

Another thing that was noted in another post but I want to put it here too is that Twist and Ty have incredibly high self esteem and both Striker and Blitz wouldn’t have it any other way

Twist is dyslexic and so gets easily frustrated when he has to read a book, but he love love LOVES the hell out of stories.....and so Ty is almost constantly making up random stories to tell him

This actually also works out well in Ty’s favor because Ty’s attention span is about as short as Blitz’s patience and he has a lot more fun telling stories than he does sitting still long enough to read the ones that other people made up unless it’s a book about something he’s reeeeeeally interested in

It’s also made Ty hella good at bullshitting on the fly, which I think most of the older/adult members of his family wish he was a lot less convincing at

Twist knows how to lie and is a natural at acting, but his flair for the over-dramatics tends to give him a way a lot easier than his twin

They both have what I’m calling a “hierarchy of obedience” within their family which really translates into a range of “eh I can think about maybe listening to this person sometimes” to “oh SHIT I need to listen to this person 5 fucking minutes ago”. For Twist, his hierarchy of obedience is: Millie --> Blitz --> Striker --> Loona --> Moxxie. For Ty, his hierarchy of obedience is: Loona --> Millie --> Blitz --> Striker.....and Moxxie doesn’t even make the list for him because honestly I’m pretty sure Ty just naturally tunes him out most of the time and not even fully on purpose. As he puts it: “You just have one of those voices”. XD

Ty can sleep literally anywhere and on anything. I’m pretty sure there have been mornings where Blitz and Striker have to play the game of 'Where the hell is my kid??' because they THOUGHT that he went to sleep in his bed like their other child did but NOPE they go into their room in the morning to get them out of bed and are just like, “.....Twist where the hell is your brother??” and Twist just gives an innocent shrug and says, “I don’t know--probably on the roof or something.” u3u and goes out into the kitchen to make himself breakfast--and then two seconds later Blitz and Striker hear him calling out “NEVER MIND! HE’S IN THE OVEN!!” and that starts off a whole new kind of panic because they know damn well that Twist’s favorite thing to have for breakfast is cinnamon rolls XD

Twist’s laughter is infectious--this really cute witch-like cackling that just bubbles out of him in the most adorably genuine way when he’s that delighted about someting

Ty does this adorable thing where--when he sticks his tongue out at someone--he flicks it in a very snake-like fashion and even gives the tiniest of hisses in lieu of a raspberry when he does it

Ty also manages to twist himself into the most uncomfortable-looking positions when he sleeps but rest assured, he’s never been more comfy

Twist’s tail never stays still. It is constaintly flicking to and fro, back and forth, swishing and swirling like a cat’s tail, and he loves flicking it in front of people’s faces to get their attention

Twist in general doesn’t really stay still very often but the one time he did was when Ty broke his arm--and then he spent almost every moment of the day and night plastered to his side because he knew it was driving Ty crazy not being as mobile as he usually is while having to wear a cast

The twins really don’t ever go that far apart from each other. If you look and only see the one, you can rest assured that the other one is around somewhere nearby and it’s probably not a good sign for you if you can only see the one.

Ty is much more of a biter when it comes to self-defense and Twist always goes straight to using his claws

Twist is the outwardly more protective twin and is vicious with his words when defending his brother. He will force every last ounce of moisture out of your body from how hard he makes you cry.

Ty, on the other hand, will fuck you up hard physically if you try to hurt his twin--and Lucifer himself would not be able to save you if you actually do hurt his twin

As they get older, and their sexualities and gender develop and grow, Twist would discover that he’s a nonbinary he/they homosexual panromantic and Ty would discover that he’s a genderfluid he/she pansexual homoromantic

The above being said, both Twist and Ty wholeheartedly say “fuck you and your gender norms” from a very young age and well into their teenage and adult years, with Twist enjoying painting his nails and Ty carrying all of his stuff around in a purse--and they both have a preference for wearing high heeled shoes [Ty because he just likes being tall in general and Twist because he likes being specifically taller than his parents because it drives them crazy XD]

Twist and Ty’s best friend is “Missi” [Moxxie and Millie’s eldest daughter, Missile] and she’s honestly an absolute hero for putting up with as many of their shenanigans as she does

Whenever they go out on family outings, Twist is that kid who just NEVER wants to leave--and so Blitz usually, after spending ten minutes of trying to get him in the damn van and Striker even using his Dad Tone (TM) and that not working, will just be like, “Alright kiddo, I tried playing nice. You asked for this.” And he puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles with a, “Loona Sweetie? Fetch.” >3 And Loona gets the BIGGEST grin on her face and Twist gets the biggest “oh shit I’m so fucking screwed” look on his face and Ty--who’s honestly probably very awkwardly coiled up in Striker’s arms because after a long day of family fun he’s tired af and decided that he doesn’t want to use his limbs anymore--just kind of looks over at his twin and says, “I believe in you, but also maybe try to run faster than last time” u3u

I think that they would both love their Auntie Barbie a lot and she would have soooooooo much fun teaching them different circus tricks--especially how to yeet each other back and forth on the trapeze XD

I also think that their Auntie Barbie would really love just how close they are.....and probably inspire her to make up for lost time in her relationship with her own twin too

For some reason I can’t shake the thought of the twins being great at acapella and I have no idea why but I’m also ttly here for it XD

In school, I feel like Twist’s favorite class would be Art [he loves to paint and happily makes all kinds of messes with his “expressing creativity”] and Ty’s favorite class would be P.E./Gym [because he loves testing the limits of his physical body]

Family game nights are always fun in their household because usually what happens is Twist and Ty team up against Blitz and Striker, and while they’re in the middle of duking it out, Loona ends up getting a monopoly on every street and is just like, “Pay up fuckers.” u3u

Moxxie and Millie both love and hate babysitting for the twins because on the one hand, they love them to pieces and love seeing how well they get along with their three kids, but on the other hand.....the twins keep finding Millie’s strap on and putting it on their middle child [Mark]’s head and calling him a “cockicorn” XD

Ty’s favorite food is ramen noodles and Twist spent three weeks [and probably set their kitchen on fire at least twice] learning how to make them with JUST the right flavor profile that he knows his brother likes the best

While I think both of the twins know that they can talk to their dads about anything, I think that they still keep their most personal thoughts reserved only to themselves and each other

Twist’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the flashy ‘sharp and pointy’ kind whereas Ty’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the aggressive ‘point and shoot’ kind. However I honestly kind of think that in terms of what they’d use themselves in the field, Twist’s primary weapon of choice would be a whip [though he would definitely have some throwing knives and handheld revolvers in his back pocket too] and Ty’s primary weapon of choice is honestly poisons. Assume that everything this kid has that he throws at you--be it a knife or a bullet or even a fucking cannonball--is poisoned somehow.

They both definitely play wrestle like Blitz and Barbie did as kids.....and just like Blitz and Barbie, they also get their horns tangled together more than once and need to have someone come rescue them. There’s almost always a photo taken that gets posted to Voxtigram first tho. XD

There are plenty more headcanons where this came from but I feel like this is already waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too fucking long so I’m going to go ahead and stop here for tonight!! If you guys are interested in hearing more about these two, please please please feel free to let me know and I’d be happy to write up a Part 2 to this, or just overall write up a quick little oneshot with them in it, or if you want to send me specific questions about them that I can answer, feel free to do so!! Thanks so much again and I hope you guys have as much fun reading these as I did writing them up!! <3 <3

#vizowritesheadcanons #BlitzStrike twins #ocs: Twist and Ty #BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Helluva Boss AU where Blitz and Striker are parents #I.M.P. family fun #kid AU

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i-write-boop-spoops · 3 years

Text

Widower! Steven Stone headcnons

Ooh my first angst request! The moment I saw this my creative juices started flowing and I had to write it asap. I love fluff, but this idea was just delicious. I adore how this blog is positive, but sometimes you really gotta rip someone’s heart out y’know?

Features death, mourning and general angst. There is zero happiness here. You have been warned. Also this is intended for a f!reader.

I usually say enjoy, but I don’t think that’s applicable to this, so suffer, I guess.

Steven really thought he had the perfect life

Or the closest thing to it

Three adorable children

A job and hobbies he loved

More wealth than he knew what to do with

And you

His beautiful wife, whom he loved beyond words and reason

You were taken away from him so suddenly

He had no idea that when he kissed you goodbye that morning, that would be the last time he ever interacted with you

Or felt your lips

Or heard your voice

Or held your warm hands in his

He doesn’t remember much about that day

Just the vague, fuzzy memory of a phone call

And collapsing by your side, crying so hard he could barely breathe

As you lay there, peaceful and lifeless

He was too distraught to tell your children himself

His father took on the terrible duty of letting them know

Doing so in a warm and careful way, like he always was with them

Your eldest was eleven at the time

Your middle just after turning nine

Your youngest only seven

While they still couldn’t quite fathom what had happened, they all burst into tears

Steven found it so difficult to face them

They all had aspects of you in their personality and appearance

Your daughter especially

But he knew from his own experience of losing his mother, how important it was for him to be there for them

When he was able, he gathered them up in his arms and held them tight

And told them that everything was going to be okay

Even if he didn’t believe that one bit

They all then cried together

He wrote something to say at your funeral

But as he was up there at the microphone

He got so choked up that he couldn’t finish his piece

Wallace took over the duty of saying his speech

If there were any dry eyes left, there were none for after that

You had said in the past, that you would like to be cremated

And have your ashes spread by the sea in Mossdeep

Steven and your children took a quarter each

Throwing what remained of you into the foaming waves

Which then carried you out into the ocean

Maybe he shouldn’t have, but he secretly kept some of your ashes

and had them made into a diamond

He replaced the man gem in his wedding ring with said diamond

So you would be with him always

In a form so perfect and strong, you could never be broken again

For weeks after your death, he barely slept, are or drank

He rarely shaved or showered either, leaving him rather scruffy and unkempt

He still looked after your children with the upmost love and care

But his lack of self maintenance was starting to take a toll

It took an intervention by Wallace for him to finally get back to looking after himself

And to get back out in the world

Not to date or anything, but to socialise, work and participate in hobbies

Steven found it impossible to ever sleep in your marital bed again

But he did not have the heart to get rid of it

He slept on the couch first, but eventually moved to the guest room

One night, a few months after your passing, he dreamt of you

It felt so real

You were curled up next to him

Breathing softly as you slept

He leaned in and kissed your forehead

Your eyes opened and you smiled at him

Wishing him a good morning

When he woke up, he sprinted around the dark, quiet house

Calling for you

It really frightened the children

Joseph had stayed over that night

He had started to do that often to help out

He was the one who told Steven to stop, and that you wouldn’t come back

He knew deep down his father was right, but the truth still hurt

Your daughter encouraged him to start dating again, seven or so years after your death

She said that it was okay for him to do so, and that it wouldn’t be disrespectful

And if he did fall in love, his new girlfriend would not replace their mom, would be welcomed

She just wanted him to be happy and smile like he used to

He tried, he really did

Most of the women who were into him were far younger than him

Which made him very uncomfortable

He was in his late forties/early fifties at the time

Eventually he found someone around his age and they went out for dinner

He didn’t even make it to the main course before he had to leave

Not only was he not over your passing yet

He felt like he was betraying you

That was the last date he ever went on

He resigned himself to be single for the rest of his life

And he kept to that

It was safe to say that Steven was never able to be as happy as he was when you were alive

Your death seemed like a case of history repeating itself

First his father losing his mother

Then him losing you

He prays to whatever divine being might listen that it stops there

There are few pains worse than losing the love of your life

And he would not like your children to go through that either

#tw death #tw angst #steven stone x reader #champion steven x reader #steven stone #champion steven #silver haired dreamboat #steven stone headcanons #angst #anon

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hnychn · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀 [𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍]

summary : armin stood on the beaches shore as the salty breeze cradled his face, and his mind could only wander to you.

warnings : character death, mentions of blood

word count : 2300+

a/n : i am so sorry to armin for writing this, but i love him sm

navigation || attack on titan masterlist

"Let's see the sea together, Armin!"

Armin got off his horse and relished in the feeling of the salty ocean breeze cradling his face, and his mind could only wander to you.

The two of you grew up together. Your mother had introduced you to a shy blonde boy when you were younger, he hid behind his grandfather’s leg with only half of his face showing, but it was enough for you to see his brilliant blue eyes. There was something about them that gave you hope, despite his timid and recluse nature, whenever you looked into his eyes you felt like you could take on the world.

It was easy becoming his friend, especially after you found him reading one of your favorite books in an alley. The two of you bonded over your shared interest in books, admittedly Armin had a stronger interest than you and would often ramble for hours about the plot of books and the underlying meanings behind characters and their developments, but the shine in his eyes whenever he spoke filled you with a feeling your seven year old mind couldn’t put a word to; but if there was one thing clear to you, it was that you liked the feeling. And you’d do anything to feel it until your last dying breath.

Eren and Mikasa were another easy addition to your duo. It was easy for you to bond with Mikasa over your shared protection over the two boys, and Eren was overall an easy person to get along with. Armin introduced the idea of seeing the sea to Eren one afternoon near the river during sunset.

Armin had brought the book he borrowed from his grandfather and told Eren all about the beauties of the outside world, the same excited blush and shiny blue eyes filled with hope and wonder on his face when he told you the exact same.

Of course, Eren hadn’t believed the ocean was filled with salt, and neither had you. It seemed too far fetched for a body of water as large as Armin claimed to be filled with never ending salt. But the excitement and hope in his eyes stopped you from arguing with him, only nudging Eren with your elbow, a cheeky smile on your face.

“C’mon now Eren, you’re telling me you don’t believe in that when there’s literal titans walking around our world?”

Eren only scoffed and nudged you back a bit harder, “Well it’s better than believing dead people become butterflies.”

Your ears burned in embarrassment as you crossed your arms, a pout on your lips as you sent Eren a half hearted glare out of the corner of your eyes, turning back to the sunset the two of you were watching, “I happen to like believing in it very much.”

Eren shrugged, “what was the story again?”

You smiled, “My mother told me our souls are all butterflies and when we die, they’re set free into the world. She said that when a loved one dies, their butterfly will come visit you to say goodbye before flying away and they visit you again when you need it the most.”

Armin stared at you as you retold the story for the millionth time; but no matter how many times you told it, he always paid close attention. Your eyes would shine brightly and there would be a smile on your face he rarely ever saw, so every time you would smile, he committed it to his memory until the next time he saw it. He never told you, but he believed in the story too, sometimes he finds himself wishing he had told you.

The four of you joined the Training Corps together after Wall Maria had fallen and later the Survey Corps. There were many hardships and surprises as the four of you fought for the freedom of humanity and raised in the ranks of the military.

You teased Eren relentlessly after everyone found out he was a titan, which only led to play fights and roughhousing in the middle of the Mess Hall. Mikasa never broke these fights apart and Armin stopped worrying about either of you getting hurt, they knew this was your own curious way of encouraging the other to fight their hardest.

But it was during the retaking of Wall Maria that changed everything.

Before everything had started, you and Armin snuck out in the middle of the night to stare at the stars and just talk. Peaceful moments like those were few and far between, the weight of jsjdf weighing heavy on both of you.

“What color do you think the ocean is?”

You never looked away from the stars above you, your head tilting to the side at Armin’s sudden question. You could feel the build up of hesitation in your chest as your mind went to war of how to answer. Would you allow yourself to speak with your heart and answer his question truthfully?

You shrugged, “Maybe it’s clear like the rivers.”

You could tell Amrin was a bit dissatisfied at your less than creative answer, you were disappointed in yourself. You should have been honest. Perhaps you’ll tell him what color you think the ocean is after you retake Wall Maria.

It all went to hell. Most of Hange’s squad had died when Barthold had turned into the colossal titan and you had been heavily injured when you pushed Sasha out of the way of Reiner’s attack. Nobody had been able to get to you fast enough, and you felt your bones crack when you collided with the ground.

You heard your friends call out to you, Mikasa’s voice louder than the rest, and your body ached for rest, but you got up. You refused to die by the hands of a traitor.

You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not after promising Armin to see the sea together. So you fought on. You fought against Reiner, the screeching of your nearly destroyed gear fed into the dizziness you felt from the impact; you fought against the ache in your bones and soul that pleaded for you to stop, to rest; you fought against the pull of your body into unconsciousness, you couldn’t pass out, not here; you fought against the searing pain you felt when you were once again slammed into a building, your body meeting the familiar crunch of the ground; you fought against the tug of your eyelids and the sleep that threatened to consume you whole and never give you back.

You fought against it all - for Armin.

The rest of the squad continued to fight, sparing you glances every now and then, but they fully expected you to get up again. They knew you were a fighter - knew you had plans for after they retake Wall Maria - but after agonizingly long minutes of your body laying still on the blood stained floor, blood of your own beginning to pool around you, panic set in.

Mikasa was at your side in an instant after a desperate call of your name. You hadn’t responded. When she got to you, she could hear your shallow, desperate attempts to fill your lungs with air, only to choke on the blood pooling in your throat. Hastily placing her hands against the gaping wound on your stomach, she tried to stop the bleeding, her eyes hazy with unshed tears and fear for your life.

You could just about make out her figure above you through the combination of the bright sun blinding you and the haziness of sleep threatening to overtake you.

“C’mon, y/n, stay awake.” Her voice was muffled, almost as if your head was underwater, “don’t die, don’t die, don’t die.”

Weakly, your hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling slightly to remove her hands from your wound. She shook her head, her tears now falling in clumps down her face, landing on your blood stained cheek, “You can’t die.”

You smiled up at her. She had always cared for you like a mother would, making sure you were fed, making sure you were safe, making sure you were loved. It brought you comfort, especially now that your gasps became louder and your heart pounded loudly in your ears from the lack of oxygen. You would have preferred not to be in this situation at all, every memory you had since birth flashing before your eyes as your body grew cold, but her presence made the process just a bit easier.

Your eyelids bobbed as you tried to keep them open, but your energy was fading and so was your life, and the only thing you could think to say to the girl sobbing above you, pleading for you to just stay with her was, “thank you.”��

Mikasa could only sob harder as your grip on her wrist went limp and your eyes dulled. She sobbed for her lost friend, the friend she swore to protect the moment she laid eyes on you. She sobbed for Armin, and she couldn’t bear the image of his reaction to your death.

It was only after the fight, after Armin had been turned into a titan to save him, did Mikasa feel a foreign clump in her pocket. Her hands were still stained with your blood, but she pulled it out nonetheless. It was a letter.

A letter addressed to Armin.

Armin pulled out the worn paper from this pocket of his trousers. The edges were frayed and the paper browned with age, but he still kept it.

Dear Armin,

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t survive the battle. As I’m writing this, you’re asleep next to me, having fallen asleep on the roof during one of your star gazing nights. Nights like these are what keep me going. Everyday before an expedition, I always think back to these moments, and they fill me with determination to experience another with you.

But tonight was different. You asked me what color I think the ocean is. I laughed and said I had no clue, they were probably clear like the rivers. I lied. I don’t think the ocean is clear like the rivers. It’s blue.

I say that because whenever I think of the ocean, I think of you. I think about how you always get excited to tell someone about the outside world and what that book your grandfather had hidden said. I think about how blue your eyes look when you talk about it, and how they shine with such brilliance and hopefulness to see it for yourself. I think about how deep and emotion filled they are, how some parts of your eyes are a darker blue than others, how they change shades depending on your mood or the lighting.

How they fill me with a feeling that terrifies me.

I know I probably shouldn’t write this, especially if you do end up reading this because it might cause you more pain than my actual death, but I’m going to be selfish for once, and I hope you can forgive me.

Armin, I love you.

And I know that’s such a shitty thing to say in a letter you’ll receive after my death, but I do. I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I’ve felt like this since the moment I met you when we were seven, but I couldn’t figure out why my tummy felt all weird around you. It was when we got into the Training Corps, we were doing hand to hand combat training and you gave me a big hug later that night, proud of yourself for finally being able to take down your opponent. It was then that I could figure out what I was feeling. And it terrified me. Because there we were, training to give our lives to humanity, training to fight against the very beings that took our families from us.

And, call me selfish, but i don’t think I could heal from losing you, but I know you can heal from losing me. So I didn’t tell you. I lived with this secret for years, and sometimes I felt like telling you and getting this weight off of my chest, but just the image of you not coming back from an expedition plagued my mind, and I never could tell you.

Do you remember the story I told you? The one about the butterflies? I hope you do, because I’ll be visiting you and you better not squish me, or I’ll haunt you.

I’m sorry I broke my promise. I’m sorry we couldn’t see the sea together. Maybe in another life, where we don’t have to worry about titans or being eaten or fighting for our lives and our freedom - maybe then, we can see the sea together.

Forever yours,

Y/N L/N

A teardrop fell on the browning paper. Armin hadn’t even realised he was crying. After he woke up on top of the newly reclaimed Wall Maria, he first inquired about you, hoping to celebrate taking back your hometown with him. That’s when Eren told him everything. Armin was sure he had never cried as much as he did then, never felt pain as painful as losing you.

They were able to recover your body, Mikasa made sure they did. Armin only sobbed harder when he held your hand, its usual comforting warmth replaced with a coldness that still haunts him, even three years later.

Mikasa and Eren stood a few paces behind him, giving him some space to take everything in while they reminisced about their own memories of you.

The salty breeze of the ocean cradled his face, and his salty tears tasted bitter against his tongue. He felt something soft flutter against his cheek, and gasped when he saw a blue butterfly land on the frayed end of your letter. Armin smiled for the first time in a while.

“I guess you were right, y/n. . . the ocean is blue.”

The salty breeze of the ocean cradled his face and the butterfly flapped its wings and flew off after a strong gust of wind. Armin was a bit sad to see it go, but he smiled nonetheless.

Because he knew, you had seen the ocean, too.

a/n: sorry if it doesn't make sense in some parts this is my first time writing a full imagine work thing, and actually publishing it, so i'm a bit worried this hadn't come out the way i wanted it to. either way, i hope you all enjoyed this :)

#attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #armin aot #aot x reader #armin x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #character death

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sasa-gay-yo · 4 years

Text

His Little Teacher (Levi Ackerman x Teacher!Reader)

Request: Here

Summary: You never knew your favorite kindergartener, Isabel Ackerman, had such a good-looking father until Parent-Teacher Conferences.

Timeline: Modern!AU

Warnings: this bitch is LONG, Some slight mentions of sexual activity, drinkin

Art Credits: ? help pls

She was the only child who never had a chaperone, or a parent come with cookies or treats on their birthday. If you didn’t look at her profile, you wouldn’t even know what day her birthday was and that it had passed a month prior to today. Even when you would go on field trips, like today, sending home permission slips encouraging parents to come to museum, all that came back was the five dollars for lunch and his elusive signature.

Levi Ackerman

Despite that, you loved the little raven-haired girl. She was smart, she always listened, washed her own face and hands after craft time, and she always talked about her father. Even now, on the bus to the museum with her pink princess backpack on her lap, she was talking about her father to you. From what you gathered, her mother had passed away when she was born, and he was the only one taking care of her. That’s what her preschool teacher had said to you in the teacher’s lounge last week. You felt bad that you judged his parenting when you finally learned that, now knowing he was probably working hard to take care of her and raise her as well as he did. You just wanted parents to be involved with their children, especially with your favorite child. However, from what she’s told you about her father, you didn’t need to worry about that too much.

“And he’s so strong Miss. (Y/L/N)! Yesterday, Daddy and I went to pick out a fish tank and he carried it even full of water to our kitchen table. Daddy got a Dory fish and I got a Nemo fish.” You smiled down at her, nodding at her stories. She grabbed at your hand harder, trying to convince you at how strong her father was. You did wonder what the man looked like, again, having the preschool teachers tell you all about her glorious looking father. Still, halfway through the school year, you’d never met him, and she took the bus back and forth from school every day. You just had his neat signature.

Throughout the whole field trip, she didn’t let go of your hand, dragging you around to all of the stations while you let your other fellow teachers deal with the whole group. They knew that they couldn’t do anything to drag you away from that child. She was like a magnet to you, even on the first day of school. Your fellow teachers said that your first class of students was always special, and so it made sense that you had a relationship with a child like that. Bright-eyed, cute, and very insightful on certain things. The only thing that you would write down on her monthly report cards was how blunt she was to her fellow students.

You would have to hide your laugh with the things she said to them. In her defense, nothing she said was wrong, but you did have to teach her how to give constructive criticism without insulting anyone. When you sat her in the time out corner, she would give an annoying look at the calm-down toys, her arms crossed. It was comical, but oh, so cute. This is why you taught kindergarteners. They were just learning how to live life, and you were there to guide them along on their quite funny mistakes... and you got a front row seat to those hilarious moments.

“Miss. (Y/L/N), did I tell you that Daddy can come to student teacher conferences? He gave me a note to give you!” She dug through her backpack again and pulled out a cleanly folded white piece of paper to give to you.

“That’s great, Isabel! I can tell your father how good you are.” She beamed up at me, and you knew how much she loved when you praised her. It must be what her father does at home. You took time to read the tiny note, taking in neat and orderly handwriting.

Miss. (Y/L/N),

Next week’s Parent-Teacher conference openings are at weird times in my work schedule, but I do really wish to attend to talk about Isabel’s first school year. Is there anyway we can have a meeting later in the night? I’m sorry if it’s too much of you to ask to stay in the building that long, but either 8 or 9pm would work best for me. I am able to get Isabel a babysitter then.

My email is: [email protected]

Thank you in advance,

Levi Ackerman, Isabel Ackerman’s father

There it was, that signature. You had seen it almost every week on a random piece of paper or Isabel’s planner. You would make sure that you would stay late for him. You wanted to meet the man that raised your favorite student on his own. Even if it was Friday and you were planning to go out for drinks, you were sure your friends would understand your lateness.

When you had waved all the children goodbye, including Isabel who was always last on the bus wanting to keep talking to you, you went right away to email Mr. Ackerman back.

Hello Mr. Ackerman,

This is Isabel’s kindergarten teacher, Miss. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). I received your note today, and am totally willing to meet with you at 8:30 or 9 pm. The last scheduled meeting for Friday is at 8:00 pm, so you won’t be holding me back in the building at all. I am excited to meet you and talk about Isabel’s progress!

Best,

(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)

You sent the email and sat back in your chair, thinking about the man before you got to grading the color tests. From what the other teachers had told you, he was short, but very good looking. He also seemed a bit young to be a father, or at least that’s what their judgement was. You probably wouldn’t be very focused on his looks, but his personality. If it was anything like Isabel’s, it was to be enjoyable. You wouldn’t be upset to stay back for that.

In the teacher’s lounge, you took out the early dinner you packed, turning to the others who had done the same. The town had to be small enough that even if they didn’t have Isabel in their class, they would know about the Ackermans. You didn’t grow up in this town, and you only did your student teaching here, so you knew absolutely nothing besides what the PTA moms gossiped loudly about in your classroom.

“Do any of you know about Levi Ackerman? All I’ve heard is that he’s young and good looking. I have a conference with him this week.” You sat down with the younger teachers whom you formed a bond with your first day here. They also looked eager to answer your question in hushed tones.

“The only thing I know is that the woman he got pregnant was like a one-night stand or something. They didn’t like each other, were in the same friend group, and then it was like a drunken fantasy or something. Then, she shows up a few months later after he got hired at this big company in town, pregnant. Rumors say that she was going to terminate her pregnancy, but he vogued to keep it. The day after Isabel Ackerman’s birth, she took off, never to be heard or seen from again.” You mouth widened as you shoveled in your rice.

“I thought she died? Isabel said something like that.” The all shook their heads no.

“It’s probably what he tells her since she’s too young to understand.” You nodded in agreement and turned to Mella who was student-teaching for the preschool when Isabel was there. She was the one who told you how he looked, and she apparently went to school around him.

“Is he as handsome as they say?” She shrugged and took a drink.

“He is, short, but like, he’s a dark handsome if that makes sense. It’s the personality that people didn’t like. He’s really antisocial and mean to other parents, like he’ll insult you for anything. He was the best at everything during high school, and people always thought he was cocky, hence the attitude..”

“So that’s where Isabel gets her little problem from. I hope he isn’t like the other parents then, thinking their kid is the best. If he is, I guess he’ll just be nice to look at.”

Friday 8:39 PM

“Yes, well, sometimes when we see this behavior in a student, we first tell the parents to see if it is something at home affecting them. Perhaps other older siblings? Someone who may show negative emotion to him?” She scoffed in your face and grabbed the behavior evaluation sheet out of your hands.

“There is nothing wrong at our house! How dare you to assume that about us!” The husband just sat back in the chair almost glaring at his wife. Right, right, nothing going on at your house. You felt bad for Ryan too. The boy was smart and incredibly creative, but he couldn’t play well with anyone else. He felt the need to yell at any child who tried to get him to share, probably emulating behavior of an older sibling or parent. No doubt, the mother… but you had to be professional about the headache she was giving me.

“I’m so sorry if my words offended you! I didn’t mean anything like that,” you held your hands up in defense, “Maybe it could be TV shows he watches that models this type of behavior? Something to spur anger?” That made her calm down and think about it. You didn’t think a six-year-old was watching violent TV shows on PBS, but who knows what goes on in that house.

“Maybe we can monitor his TV intake, yes.” You sighed and looked up at the clock. This had gone over thirty minutes because they had to pick apart everything you said about Ryan. You sneaked a look out the door but saw an empty hallway. When was he going to come?

“Thank you both for coming. It means so much to me that you are involved in your child’s education at such an early age. It shows them the importance of an education and makes my job that much easier!” You gave them your spiel, standing by the door, and she refused to leave for some reason. She probably wanted to stay and brag loudly to the next parent who was coming. That was a common thing, for the parents waiting to talk about their kids, but how much genius could you find in your kids scissor practice paper?

“Do you know what parent is next? We’re friends with most of them, you know, PTA president things! It’s getting late however, are we the last ones?” She was looking left and right down the dimly lit hallway to stalk her prey.

“Next is Mr. Ackerman. He’s the last parent to go.” Her smile dropped.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him around. He doesn’t donate for the fairs; he hasn’t come to any of the Daddy-daughter dances we’ve had… I wonder what he even does, all alone like that.” You heard the tone of judgment ricochet through her words and your headache got bigger. She had no room to judge other parents.

“Well, I think it’s very commendable how he’s raised such a wonderful child in the circumstances he’s been given. Being a single parent is never easy. My mother raised me and my siblings by herself.” She looked you up and down, now judging you for your upbringing. She should be judging how her attitude affects her son’s interpersonal skills.

“Ah, yes, how commendable of your mother! Honey, we should get back to the kids.” She gave me a sickening smile before hauling her husband down the hallway, no doubt to insult you. You made sure she turned the corner, and the hallway was clean before you collapsed back on the door frame, holding your head.

“I swear I never had such bad parents when I was student teaching. Ugh, my head. How much can you analyze a five-year-old’s sight word recognition?”

“And they want judge me for not going to any PTA meetings when they act like this.” You jumped, covering your mouth as a silent scream ran through your body. How had you not seen him? He was leaning on the wall right next to the door, suit coat in hand. You were sure you checked both sides of the hallway before you said that. Damn it. Strike one to you acting professional.

“M-Mr. Ackerman. Nice to meet you finally!” You re-tucked your shirt back in before extending a hand. He looked down at it, smirking, before shaking your hand back.

“Nice to meet you too, Miss. (Y/L/N). My daughter seems to only talk about you these days.” You almost blushed at his words and from the fact you finally got to see him. He was incredibly handsome. You didn’t know why you didn’t listen enough your fellow teachers, and you wish you prepared yourself more than the sweater and the midi-skirt you were wearing. You did have a change of clothes for the bar you’d be going to with your friends after this, but that was highly, highly school inappropriate. What was also inappropriate was how long you were staring at his suit clad form. It was the way he had his sleeves rolled up and two buttons undone that made you stare.

“Let’s go in,” you smiled at him, gesturing to the circular table you set up in the center of the classroom. You had Isabel’s file right on the desk waiting for him. It was funny to see him sit in the small chair that was meant for a child who tagged along, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him. It fit his height a bit, and was very cute.

“That chair is for the children unless you would like to sit in it. I have no judgement though; they are surprisingly comfortable.” He looked up at me before seeing the regular sized chairs at the other end of the table. He then just shrugged and set his suit coat to hand on the side of the purple chair.

“We have these at home, so I’m used to it.” You nodded and opted to sit down on an equal sized chair to be eye level with him. He noticed your gesture and smiled at you. Now that, you would literally pay to see him smile again. You thought back to what Mella said. Cocky, insulting; you didn’t see any of that now. Maybe he’d matured the few years after they went to school or just was trying to act nice in front of his daughter’s teacher.

Isabel had talked so much about her father, but he never said how incredibly hot he was. I mean, that made sense, but still. He couldn’t have been older than you, there was no way. How was this man hiding in the midst of all the middle-aged parents? You were excited to share the news with your friends after this. A hot parent was always nice, and you hadn’t had one yet. He would be your first.

“Well, Mr. Ackerman, this is going to be a short meeting. Isabel is my model student really. Here’s some work of hers to look at. She’s smart, attentive, clean, and very, very sweet.” He smiled down at a drawing Isabel had made of him and that made your heart sing even more. This smile was very different from the short one he gave you. It was like his soul was singing through his eyes. How could he be so hot and so loving of his child at the same time? You could see it. The genuine love he had for that drawing and the little girl who made it. The little girl who looked exactly like her father, minus the eye color.

“But she does have a mouth, I know that for a fact. The fat mom called me a few weeks ago complaining about what Isabel said to… what’s his name? Rock? Rufus?” You couldn’t hold in your laugh this time, even if it was unprofessional to agree with him. The whole meeting was unprofessional at this point. You were sitting in foot tall chairs and thinking about how good of a figure he had. It was actually refreshing how laid back he seemed to be, unlike the other parents, especially this late at night.

“Yes, she is sometimes very… critical of her peers. Ryan is a student who doesn’t get along with others. She had to let him know that. To be honest, it is very funny, but still, we have to teach her to be constructive with it.” He nodded, now listening to your words with the same attention he gave to Isabel’s drawing. It made you melt even more. He cared so much about his child. Oh god, why was he perfect?

“I’ll work on her with that. She gets that from me. During quarantine, when she was doing preschool at home, I was also working. She probably heard me talking to some of my workers in that tone.” That made me perk up, knowing absolutely nothing about him. You usually do parent introductions at the first all-class meeting, but he, obviously, wasn’t there. Now that he exceeded all your expectations, you want to know more.

“If you mind me asking, where do you work?” He leaned back as much as he could in the chair, trying to spread his legs under the table. The way his ankle brushed against yours didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m a Lead Captain in the Survey company in town. I’m fifty-fifty office work and on the job work, lifting and things.” That would explain how good his arms were looking under his sleeves. He did manual labor half of the time.

You nodded and handed him Isabel’s behavior sheet out of the folder. You got your pen to explain him the scales, and when you turned back, he had leaned in pretty far to hover over the paper. Trying to hide your blush in your hair, you tried not to react to his closeness. He didn’t seem to pull back, so you continued to explain to him how her score was perfect except for group behavior. Again, he listened so intently to your suggestions and what you had to say about Isabel it made your heart glow with warmth.

“I guess when she was younger, the only interaction she would get was at morning preschool. She only has a babysitter since I can’t afford daycare. That’s my fault, one hundred percent. I-I heard that you know how single parenting is.” He pointed to the door with his thumb, referring to the interaction you had with Ryan’s parents. It was refreshing for a parent to take the blame too. He was getting more and more perfect by the minute. A perfect child and a perfect father. It made so much sense.

“Yes, growing up I was an attention hog. I only had older brothers, so when I went to school I expect to be treated like a princess. I had my first great awakening when a boy threw mud at my face during recess because I refused to share my swing.” He leaned his head back and let out a deep laugh and you matched him, taking in the view he was giving you. This seemed to be a one night only type thing, so you’d take your liberties where you could. I mean, if you didn’t study his face, how were you going to describe him well enough to everyone at the bar?

No. You shouldn’t be thinking this much about how good looking and perfect a student’s parent was. You shouldn’t be thinking about what’s under his clothes either.

“With the way Isabel talks about you, you might as well be a princess. It’s ‘Miss. (Y/L/N) does it this way, Daddy’ or ‘Daddy, today Miss. (Y/L/N) and I did this!’ You seem to be taking my child away from me, Miss. (Y/L/N).” You smiled, and almost blushed at what he was telling you about Isabel and put a hand over your heart. The teachers were right about your first class.

“You can call me (Y/F/N), Mr. Ackerman. We seem to be similar in age.” He sat up again, nodding and taking the behavior sheet you gave him.

“Then it’s Levi to you, (Y/F/N). I’m thirty-two. May I ask how old you are?” Your mouth dropped and you couldn’t help it. You didn’t think he would be in his thirties and now your numbers were thrown off.

“You don’t look at all like you’re over thirty. I’m twenty-seven.” He smirked again and seemed to be comfortable enough to lean back again, arms coming together behind his head. The pose made your heart beat faster again. Oh yeah, you were telling your friends all about this.

“Well, thank you, (Y/F/N). I’m glad you think I’m so young. Isabel calls me an old man already.” You laughed and looked up at the clock. 8:52. You had time to talk more, pushing a few minutes, but you didn’t know if he had somewhere to go. This meeting itself was set up because of scheduling conflicts. You wanted to talk to him more about Isabel and his experience raising her, but you didn’t know if that would be too personal for him.

“Now, that might be my fault. She asked me sometime during our lesson about family how old did someone have to be to be considered an Uncle and I told her above 30. Then she asked if I was old, and I told her that compared to her I was. So, she now thinks that people about twenty-seven are now old.” He shook his head and let out one huff in laughter.

“Now because of you I have no game. Imagine, first, I already have a child, and now when I bring a date home, she tells her that I was an old man. I never get a third date because of that. Are you trying to keep me forever single, (Y/F/N)?” Was he… was he flirting with you? No, it couldn’t be. He was just talking, just bantering like every parent does. The problem was is that he was a very single, very good-looking parent. This was a dangerous situation and it happened during your first-year teaching. This was bad.

“I’ll talk to her on Monday to tell her to stop calling her father an old man. Does that atone for my sins?” He quirked an eyebrow up, smirking again, but this time you could tell that he was definitely flirting with you.

“Maybe, I’ll have to come to these meetings more often. To check up on your progress with getting my daughter to go against me. The only reason I don’t come around the school often is because of the other parents.” You leaned your head in your hand, finally just deciding to go along with it. Even if he said that, this was probably the only time you two were going to meet and Isabel was going to progress on to a new teacher in a few months. You both were young too, nothing was going to get to HR.

“Next week, I’ll try to get her to call you a silly, old man, how about it? We can have a progress check next Friday.” You felt your Apple Watch buzz, looking down to see who was calling. Armin. He was probably wondering where you were, but you thought you told them you’d be late.

“I’m sorry about that, it’s just my friends.” You went to hang up, knowing that in a few minutes Eren would call. Then Jean. Then Connie. Then Sasha. Then Historia. Mikasa wouldn’t care, but at this point, the train of calls would be never ending. You were going to yell at them for cutting into your time with Levi.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I also have something to do tonight, but it was great talking to you.” You almost pouted when he went to stand up, grabbing Isabel’s folder. You were dumb to think he was flirting with you, and now you got your hopes up.

“If you have anything you need or any questions about Isabel, I’m here to answer them. Also, I’m supposed to extend out an invitation for our Spring Festival celebration next week. If you would like to come, it will be on Friday at 2 pm.” You stood, matching his height. You really wanted him to come this time, as he never came to anything, but you knew he probably wouldn’t.

He smiled at you, “You know, maybe I will come. You’ll just have to protect me from the PTA moms.” You both started walking to the door and you took the chance, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Levi, I stay as far away from them as possible. It’s an all-school thing, so it will be easy to avoid them.” You saw the little glance down to your hand before he just nodded once and continued to walk out of your classroom. He put on his suit coat and looked back at me, smiling a bit to say goodbye.

“Have fun with your friends tonight, (Y/F/N). A great teacher like you deserves to relax.” You smiled back at him, leaning on the doorframe.

“You, too, Levi. With whatever you’re doing tonight. A single father like you deserves to relax.”

Club Rio

“Eren, if I have to tell you to stop touching me one more time, I will break your arm off!” He winced, taking his arm off of your shoulders and drinking his beer. The bar was packed tonight, so there was almost seven of you crowded around a single circle tabletop. You already felt smooshed, so you didn’t want Eren to make it worse.

“How were your conferences today, (Y/F/N)?” Armin asked you from across the table and you held a thumb up while taking a drink. It may be squished, but it was worth it to get this buzz. You took Levi’s advice and relaxed hard. The amount of bullshit you spewed in the last three days to make the parents happy to it out of you.

“Most of them are the same old, your child is great, I love having them in my class, here’s something to work on though, and then they blame my teaching. It’s really annoying having to agree with their criticism of me, but I want to keep my job. However,” you held a finger up, “the last meeting was with a single father in my class. He was amazingly hot. A bit over thirty. He also is the father of my favorite student, so it just added to it. Like a treat at the end of a hard week.” You could hear Jean and Eren scoff, but Historia leaned in, her blue eyes wide and sparkly from the drinks.

“What did he look like?”

“He’s short, like my height, but he has black hair. An undercut. Then he’s definitely muscular. You could even see it through his button up. Thirty-Two. His eyes are really narrow, but like a type of grey that shines. One of the teachers described him to be a dark handsome, and I completely agree. She also said he was kinda of cocky and insulted people a lot. Too bad he doesn’t show up around the school because he’s busy at working at some company in town.” You saw Jean and Armin exchange looks and you pointed at both of them.

“Hey, hey, hey. What was that?” Jean spoke up first.

“Um, well, is this person - is his name Levi Ackerman by chance?” Your eyes widened and you stood straight up, your body colliding with Eren’s. Jean now had your full attention.

“How do you know him? You two didn’t live here before!” Jean leaned to rest his arms on the table, looking at Eren to explain since he wouldn’t have to yell over the crowd.

“No, but he’s our team captain at work. Short, black hair, mean, grey eyes: I think you described him to a T. But, you said he was a treat? That doesn’t sound at all like the Levi that chewed me out today because I didn’t put a signature at the end of my email.” Eren answered and you gave him a confused look. Levi seemed really nice and he joked with you. Maybe it was just his work personality.

“He was though. He even called me a great teacher and we went by first name basis.” This time Mikasa spoke up next to Eren.

“Levi’s nice to women, Eren. Not to people who probably mess up all the time at work.” Eren groaned and you arched your body around his so you could look at her. She did look a little like him, but she was half Asian, so there was some doubt in your mind. From what you could connect though, they may act alike in certain situations. Maybe it was on her dad’s side.

“Ackerman! Are you related?! How did I not think about that before?” She nodded as Eren nudged her for the comment she made about his work ethic.

“On my father’ side. We’re cousins, but distant. I don’t talk to him unless we’re forced to at family functions. But he does act how they’re saying. He’s cold and calm, you can’t tell what he’s thinking usually. Most of the time he has a scowl on his face and doesn’t talk a lot unless it’s an insult or something. Then again, you’re a pretty woman, so that could have changed his attitude.” You blushed a bit, trying to hide it in your hair, but Connie caught you.

“You have a little crush on the DILF, don’t you?! I can see it!” He poked your cheek, him and Sasha roaring in laughter.

“No, he was just nice to look at! He also really cares about his daughter, which is just… girls like guys who are good with kids. Teacher’s also like parents who care about their kids, it makes my job easier.” They still couldn’t stop laughing and you couldn’t stop blushing.

“A teacher-parent relationship, how scandalous,” Jean added in on making fun of me, “What will the PTA moms say about that (Y/F/N)?” You glared at all of them as they laughed.

“I told you he was just hot!”

Paradis Elementary Spring Festival

“Do you need any help reorganizing this whole table so the PTA mom’s stop roping me into work I don’t want to do?” You jumped at the body that came close behind you. You also jumped because you didn’t expect him to show up. The little raven-haired girl ran to the playground and you turned around quickly, eyes wide.

“Levi! I mean, Mr. Ackerman. I’m glad you showed up!” He nodded and used both hands to lean down on the table seeing the cupcakes that I rearranged four times, so I didn’t have to talk to the mothers about their kids.

“You said you’d protect me from them, but there I was carrying all the boxes from their damn cars.” You looked over at the mothers, now huddled around staring at you talking to Levi and gossiping. Figures. Last year, one of the third-grade teachers breathed in the wrong direction and there were rumors about her having an affair with a married man. You hoped you weren’t next on the PTA list.

“Well, its not common for a father to come to these types of events. Notice how there aren’t any on the PTA.” He switched positions so he could lean on the table and watch Isabel play on the swings with her friends and the older children. You picked up the Capri Suns from the ground, deciding to organize them by flavor.

“You know what Isabel asked me the other night? After our conference?” You perked up at his words, signaling that you were interested in what she said.

“Hm?” He scratched the back of his neck, now debating whether he should tell you this. It was a bit personal and maybe would make you, as a teacher, uncomfortable with Isabel. Either way, he did it.

“Well, I actually had a date that night,” your heart dropped a little bit, and you scowled down at your chest, “and my date needed an umbrella, so I went in to get her one. When I came out Isabel was there outside our apartment, glaring up at this woman, arms crossed and everything.” You giggled at that, imagining it in your head. You could see her signature glare now looking up at someone three times taller and five times older. You looked over to Isabel, matching Levi’s stance against the table. Right now, it looked like she was lecturing a boy on how to play the floor is lava.

“She asked me why I didn’t bring you home,” he said through a laugh and you followed his cue laughing. You weren’t doing any laughing on the inside. Your mind was swirling now after he said that, but he couldn’t have meant that. It was just Isabel thinking like a six-year-old. If Levi told her he had a date, she might have just thought that the two meetings were connected. Yeah, he couldn’t mean anything other than that.

Still.

“Ah, she’s funny, isn’t she?” You almost winced at how dismissive your tone was. It sounded like you wanted to move on from the conversation and you were afraid he took it the wrong way. You didn’t want to dismiss the opportunity of it being him flirting with you, but you also didn’t believe that was his intention. Now he thought must have thought that it was your intention to ignore it anyways. He stayed silent after that. Goddamn it. You had to fill the space somehow.

“Are you related to a Mikasa?” He seemed to perk up after that, turning his head to look right at you in recognition.

“She’s my cousin, yes. How do you know her? Are you friends with those brats?” You huffed in laughter at his tone. Brats wasn’t a word you would use for your friend group, but you guessed since he was a bit older and, from what you heard, was annoyed all the time by them at work.

“We know each other from college, yeah. Since they had secured a job at Survey, I decided to follow by teaching here so we’d all live by each other. I met Eren first.” He lifted up an eyebrow and you could see a little trace of annoyance gloss over his face. It was very much an Isabel look, or rather, she’d gotten it from her father. Pretty much copy and paste.

“You met him first and wanted to meet the rest of them?” You rolled your eyes at that. You can see how Connie and Sasha got a bit wild, Eren and Jean a bit intense, but overall, they were great people to be friends with. Armin had helped you through a required science class, Historia and Mikasa stayed with you and bought you ice cream when your boyfriend had broken up with you, Connie and Sasha were the life of the party any hour of the day, and Jean and Eren, respectively, would provide you some stress relief and good times when you were down. No, they were the greatest people you’d met.

“They’re my best friends, Levi. I love all of them.” The annoyed look still didn’t leave his face and he crossed his arms. Was he really going to argue with you about your friend group? If he did, you would definitely text the group chat to make his next work week a living hell for revenge.

“You don’t seem to be like them. Maybe Historia, but still, I wouldn’t peg you to be with that group.” You turned back around, seeing the children starting to walk over to the snack tables. Soon, once they were done with their lunch, they would descend on the cupcakes you were guarding and destroy the orderly table. You had to tape down the cheap plastic tablecloth, so it stood a chance.

“What do I seem like then? They’ve told me about you, you know. I couldn’t believe what they were telling me.” You grabbed the tape, ducking under the table do you couldn’t see his expression. However, his legs moved as he turned to face where you once were.

“Much more professional and put together than them. Maybe Armin is okay, but the others, I had to teach them how to write a formal email.”

“Well, you’ve never seen me outside of a school setting. Arguably, you know all of them more than you know me. If I had to compare myself to any of them it would be a mix between Armin and Jean. When we all go out, it seems to be like that. I can see, though, how they’d be a bit tough to handle at work.”

“Well, then why don’t we meet outside of school?” Your breath had to have stopped, but his face was completely serious. Did he just ask you on a date? Right in front of the kindergarten cupcake table?

“Miss. (Y/L/N)! Can we have a cupcake now?” Two or three of your students gathered at your leg, and you looked down at them, probably with your eyes still wide. You then looked back to Levi who was giving the children a very annoyed stare, before stepping back from the table so they had full access.

“U-Um, what did you – Cupcakes! Yes, El, you can have one cupcake each. What color do you want?” You went to hand them the specific colors you wanted, and you thought that your business would make Levi go somewhere else, but he was there staring at you while you handed them out. His gaze was unwavering as he leaned up against the basketball net’s pole. Even when Isabel came to stand next to his legs, he didn’t look down at her. You knew he was waiting for an answer and you were having an internal crisis.

You didn’t think you’d get this far, actually, no you never thought this would happen. It was going to be the one parent-teacher meeting, then you’d never see him again and only complain to Mikasa and Historia about how you let him get away. Now, he literally just came out with it. Was this his whole intention of coming today? Your stomach did flipflops because of that. But now, you were thinking of how unprofessional it would look if you two did start something. You would be offender number one for the PTA moms and it was only your first year teaching. Then, on the other hand, the school year was almost over, and you would soon not be Isabel’s teacher and you and he were both single. And he was very good looking. And he was good with kids. And you did like him a bit, only having talked to him for thirty minutes. Still, what could fully develop if you took up his offer?

“Can I please have all the parents and their children gather?” You turned your neck to look at the principal who had yelled that through a blowhorn. He was standing on the makeshift stage in front of the school, probably going to give the day ending speech before dismissing the children with their participation medals for the games we played. You would have time to ask your crisis hotline and you were thankful that Isabel so eagerly pulled her father towards the front of the school. You still couldn’t shake his gaze, him looking over his shoulder at you while you tried to hide your blush.

Once you were alone on the basketball field, you used your watch to send a text to you, Historia, Mikasa, and Sasha’s group chat.. You knew whatever they were doing, they would take the chance to slack off. It also had to be important if you were texting during the school day.

From Mi: What are you texting us for?

From Mrs. Potato Head: Yes, aren’t you at school?

From (Y/F/N): Okay, well a situation has occurred, and I need quick guidance. I only have like two minutes

From My Queen: We can help!

From (Y/F/N): Thank you, Historia. I know I can count on you.

From Mrs. Potato Head: Just get on with it! I didn’t eat lunch today and I’m starving!

From (Y/F/N): Ok, ok, ok!

You glanced over at the parents and there he was, staring at you while holding Isabel’s hand.

From (Y/F/N): Oh god, I can’t believe I’m even saying this to you guys. I think Levi asked me on a date!

From Mrs. Potato Head: OUR BOSS LEVI ACKERMAN?!

From My Queen: You sound like a sixteen-year-old, (Y/F/N)! Of course, he would ask you out, who wouldn’t?

From Mi: So, what are you asking us? It’s a yes isn’t it?

From Mrs. Potato Head: Yeah, by the way you were talking about him at the bar last week, it has to be a yes

From Mi: If you two get married, we’ll be cousins

From (Y/F/N): Stop that! I don’t know if I should! I’m his daughter’s teacher and I barely know him

The principal was on his ending notes, and you could tell that Isabel was going to race up to you before saying goodbye. She always did. At the end of the day, you would take he to the bus with the other kids, and she would have to run her homework by you, tell you one or two random things, and then get yelled at before she would go on the bus.

From My Queen: Isn’t that why you go on dates with people or am I mistaken? Mikasa, is your cousin a serial killer?

From Mi: No, Historia, I don’t think he is. I think you should do it, (Y/F/N). Even if it’s kinda weird I’m setting you up with my cousin

You rolled her eyes at her remarks and the clapping notified you that in about thirty seconds a little raven-haired girl was going to be at your feet.

From (Y/F/N): Don’t tell the guys about this please. Not unless the date goes well, okay?

From Mrs. Potato: Oh, so you’re accepting! That’s mad crazy. My best friend and my boss. I’m going to tell Connie

From Mrs. Potato Head: Oh, wait, shit sorry. Nevermind

You groaned and knew that your request would fall on deaf ears. Soon you’d have Jean and Eren at your heels telling you that you shouldn’t go out with anyone but either one of them.

“Miss. (Y/L/N)!” Isabel started her bounding run towards you, and you could see Levi starting to walk in that same direction, his eyes never having left your figure. Jesus, this man’s gaze was so intense.

From (Y/F/N): We’re talking more later

You put your phone away, turning around to face Isabel with a big smile hiding how nervous you were in her father’s presence. Everything wrong was going through your mind. What if he didn’t mean a date? What if he thinks you’re too young for him? What happens when the date goes terribly that you end up hating him?

“Miss. (Y/L/N), I got a medal from the principal, look!” She held up the participation medal that all the children got. Something about everyone deserving to win something. You were falling asleep during that meeting.

“That’s great, Isabel! You can hang it on the fridge, yeah?” You could see his eyes spark when you said that. He smirked, too, finding it funny that you knew about their fridge, completely covered with Isabel’s drawings, report cards, and various other trinkets. Perhaps it was even a bit heartwarming to him.

“Is, can you go get your backpack from the classroom? Daddy needs to talk about you to Miss. (Y/L/N.” The little girl just lifted her head up, almost falling over to look back at Levi.

“But Daddy, I’m not done talking to Miss. (Y/L/N)!” One second of annoyance reappeared on his face before urging her to go do it again. This time, with a pout, she walked inside with the rest of her classmates to go get ready to leave.

“So, how does Saturday sound?” He was really direct, and you’d guess it was his age or the fact that you haven’t dated anyone other than college frat boys in their early twenties. You looked back at him, remembering what the girls said. They wanted you to go on it and you, yeah, you definitely wanted to go on it too.

“At seven?” You suggested and you swear you saw a smile break across his face before he dropped it to nod. That made the butterflies come back again.

“Seven, yeah. I’ll get your address from Mikasa.”

Saturday, 3:57 AM

“I couldn’t believe he posted that either! When Mikasa showed me that, I thought he was for sure getting fired,” my hands moved with my words as I explained to Levi about Eren’s awful thirst trapping social media posts. While I was doing this, he gripped my shoulder with the hand shrugged around me, trying to steer me in the right direction. Granted, I was also probably a little tipsy from the alcohol we consumed at the second bar. It was cheaper and fruitier, so I obliged, and Levi seemed to find it amusing.

“Oh, he definitely got reprimanded. It took everything in me not to kick him. Erwin is usually away, so I’m the one who has to deal with everything. One time they started, oh what are those things called, the pictures that are supposed to be funny?” He was gesturing with the hand next to my ear, trying to get me to fill in the blank.

“Memes? I knew you were old, but not this old, Lev.” He rolled his eyes at you, ignoring your insult and continuing with his story.

“They started a Meme fight in the company group chat even though I clearly laid out the rules to them. Apparently, their explanation was that if they got everyone to do it, I couldn’t punish everyone in the office.” I smiled up at him and grabbed loosely at his fingers, trying to hold his hand, but not really. I ended up just playing with them as we walked up to my apartment building.

“So, you punished everyone twice, yeah?” He smirked as we stopped outside the doorway of my building.

“Three times.” This made you both giggle like children, and you were sure the alcohol, the third round of drinks, was starting to have an affect on you both again. You’d make sure he’d call a cab to get back.

“I can walk you up to your door?” He suggested and your eyes widened, shaking your hands in front of you. He couldn’t know that Historia, Mikasa, and Sasha were on a stake-out at your apartment. It was something you all did when the other would go on a date with a new person. It was to make sure that they got home right and that they had someone to immediately rant, cry, or laugh with depending on how the date went. Last time, you, Mikasa, and Sasha almost went to egg a guy’s house that made Historia cry. However, this stake-out was going to be very different.

“No, it’s fine. It’s fine. I’m actually against gender norms. If anything, I should walk you home.” He raised an eyebrow, taking his arm off my shoulder. He wore the same suit had had during the parent-teacher conference and you made sure to comment on how hot you thought he looked back then. Rolled up sleeves, buttons undone, and now, tousled hair courtesy of you. It was a very good look.

“You wouldn’t want your kindergartener seeing you drunk.” You hit his chest after that comment, knowing you weren’t completely intoxicated. You could get up to your house, take off your makeup, and have a very productive conversation about how he had treated you to ice cream halfway through your bar hopping session.

“I’m not drunk, just happy. Tonight was really fun.” He smiled at you and nodded in agreement.

“Let’s do it again? And again? You up for it?” You matched his smile and grabbed his hand.

“Of course I am. This was probably the best date I’ve ever had, Levi.” You saw the blush paint his cheeks as he went to scratch the back of his neck.

“Me too, (Y/L/N). Me too.” You sent him off in a taxi, a single kiss on his cheek that left a smirk on his face. You stood there for a while too, letting the cool spring wind blow over your bare legs. Yeah, that was a few hours of heaven. Your heart warmed as you went up in the elevator, replaying the events in your head over and over again. You were sad it had to end, but it was almost four in the morning and you’d exhausted all open sit-down bars.

When you got inside your apartment, you saw them all sleeping on the couch besides Mikasa who locked very annoyed eyes with you. You just smiled and slid down the door, sitting on the floor.

“Oh god,” Mikasa groaned, seeing your lovesick face. She never though she’d meet someone who’d act like this for her cousin, must less one of her best friends. Sasha and Historia woke up, rubbing their eyes to look at the time. You wondered when they fell asleep.

“Why are you back so late?” Sasha mumbled, seeing the clock hit four in front of her eyes. At least you left her a stocked fridge. Historia was the first of the two to be wide awake, seeing your face clearly. She almost jumped up from the couch and ran over to you on the floor. You smile was still plastered over your face, thinking about Levi.

“How was it? How was it!?” Sasha covered her ears at Historia’s yells. She would care in the morning when she was awake. For now, she just looked at you as you stared Historia right in the eyes and said those bone crushing words.

“Historia, I think I’m in love.”

“Love?!” Mikasa popped up, sounding so taken aback by that. No, she’d never, ever bet on someone liking, much less falling in love with her cousin. What had he done to you? She rested her head on the back of the couch, looking over to you. Historia grabbed your hand hard, excited for you.

“No way! Are you sure? How do you know? What did you two do for some long? Huh! You didn’t!” You shook your head, knowing what she was thinking. No, he was a gentleman the whole night with you, even if you did exchange a few buzzed kisses here and there on the fake leather couches of a swanky bar downtown.

“We went for dinner first at a hibachi place. We talked for hours and hours, I couldn’t tell you how long. It was just, I could’ve sit and talked to him in that uncomfortable chair for hours. We just walked about everything. Our lives, Isabel, how I became a teacher, you guys; it was just so refreshing. Then, when the hibachi place closed, he said he didn’t want to end it there, and so he took me to this high-end bar, and I had an overpriced martini and we talked and talked some more. I just couldn’t run out of topics, Historia. Maybe it was because I drank so much, but still, I was buzzing the whole time around him. Then when that bar closed, we went to ours, the one we go to, and I drank more. He did too. I guess the alcohol just opened us up. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to someone for that long about absolutely nothing. Even on the way back, we walked by the river, it was so pretty and there were almost no people. Just a little slice of heaven. I’m sad it had to end, but he asked if I wanted to do it again, and again. He’s just so nice and gentlemanly and funny and handsome and cute and-“ Sasha cut you off with her hand. She couldn’t stand someone talking about her boss like that. If she kept listening to you, she would definitely say something at work and she was too afraid of what Levi would do to her.

“Guys, she’s completely whipped for our boss.” You smiled up at her, acknowledging that fact. Being with Levi just felt so good. Your heart was light and your head was buzzing around. Every time he leaned over to kiss you, you had butterflies in your stomach like some little girl. You even went into the date telling yourself you’d have to act more upright than you really are, but that went out the window when the hibachi chef squirted Levi in the eye with water and you couldn’t handle it. You were just so comfortable around him, it was hard to be professional and upright. He did tell you that you were correct, you were different outside of school, but he loved it.

“He told me that my personality came out tenfold when I was outside of school grounds. He said he liked it a lot and thought I was cute.” You were wringing your hands together, the feeling hitting your toes. God, you never had a man make you feel like this. All of the fairytale books you read the kids now made complete sense. Even Sasha’s gagging sound didn’t take you out of that trance.

“You look so head-over-heals, (Y/F/N),” Historia said, laughing next to you while looking at your eyes. She took, well, they all had never seen you like this around a man you went on a date or one-night stand with. Not Jean, Eren, the one guy you dated in college, or the one right after graduation; none of them made you look like this. It almost made Mikasa sick looking at how lovestruck you were on the floor. All for Levi.

Five Months Later

From Captain <3: I venomed you for the pizza last night. You should use it to bring me a bubble tea from that shop we went to last week

From my little teach: I’m in a meeting, but in like an hour, sure.

From Captain <3: I never understood how you seem busier on summer vacation than you did during the school year

From my little teach: Not my fault you chose to date a teacher, at least I’m always free at night

From Captain <3: Then you have to leave early in the morning and the bed gets cold

From Captain <3: You know I’m anemic ☹

“Miss. (Y/L/N), do you find something funny about the change in our core curriculum?” Your eyes looked up to the fifth-grade teacher presenting and smiled to try and hide your embarrassment.

“No, Mrs. Warnas, I was just thinking about the unique drawings I’m going to get from my kindergarteners once we introduce them to storyboarding.” That seemed to satisfy her enough to turn back around and smile to herself at my compliment. I’m glad that was in my head still, because I didn’t want to get caught in front of all the teachers. They already knew I was in a relationship with a past parent, so them catching me texting like a high schooler in class would be mortifying.

From my little teach: You just got me in trouble

From Captain <3: I’m texting you in a meeting too

From Captain <3: You’re just bad at being sneaky

When you showed up at the office, two bubble teas in hand, you were greeted first by Connie who wanted one.

“Pleaseeeeee, I’ve been working so hard today!” You moved the drinks away from his grabby hands and glared at him. You knew that if Sasha came over too, you’d have to guard these drinks with your life.

“They aren’t for you, Con. I’ll buy you one another time.” He whined again and Jean’s head popped up from over a cubical, one arm resting on the edge.

“Jeez, (Y/F/N). Isn’t this the third time this week you came here? I don’t remember you ever visiting us this much before you started dating our boss.” You stuck your tongue out at him and took a sip of your tea to rub it in his face.

“You’re just jealous you didn’t land me. You had so many chances, yet it slipped through your fingers. You and Eren both.” His eyebrow quirked up, smirk breaking over his face. He was going to say something either sexual or annoying.

“I mean, if you want to talk about my finge-“

“What did you say, Kirstein?” Jean dropped his head, mumbling something, and sitting back in his chair. You turned around, locking eyes with Levi who was in the doorway of his office. His face was one you had gotten used to over the few months of visiting him at work. In this building, he was constantly on edge and it showed all over his face. His gaze was harsh, non-smiling, and always laced with annoyance or sleepiness. His words were the same way. Even the tone he took with Jean was the complete opposite of the one he talked to you or Isabel in.

“If I have to hear about Jean or Eren’s college relations with you one more time, I’ll fire both of them. I swear, I thought it would calm down, but almost everyday they have to say something and giggle to each other like fucking school children. Did you get the brown sugar boba?” You handed him his cup, sitting in the chair opposite his. He looked cute sipping on the boba while in his professional setting. The only time he wore his suit jacket was at work, but as he walked out of that door after clocking out, it was the first thing to come off.

“Bad day? You only ask for extra sugar when you’re feeling bad.” He huffed once in agreement with his bad day, taking another big sip and running a hand through his hair.

“A deal with a Japanese company we thought would be easy is toying with us and since Erwin’s out of town, it falls on Hange and I. I’ll probably have to take stuff home tonight and work.” You frowned, putting down your cup on his desk and leaning forward. He’d been stressed recently about work, which culminated in him needing daily visits to his office for you to calm him down. Pretty soon, he’d lock the door, making sure the blinds are all pulled, and have you sit on his lap to calm him down.

“I can take Isabel to mine if you need to concentrate tonight. We still have a few Barbie movies to watch.” That made him smile, but he shook his head, looking down at the papers sprawled all over his desk.

Isabel had been very quick to accept the fact that her teacher and father were dating, and she probably happier than either of you. You both told her after school ended so she didn’t start something with the PTA moms, but it was your carelessness that caused all of them to find out over an email thread. Isabel, however, didn’t care that Ryan would make fun of her for having “Miss. (Y/L/N) as a mommy” because there was finally someone in her like that would play princesses with her that would fit the role. You asked Levi if, before you came, he was forced by the seven-year-old to wear a crown and fake earrings, but he refused to answer. It was also very easy to transition your relationship with Isabel from teacher to, basically, co-caretaker since she already saw you as such. When you told her she could call you your first name, she went crazy being able to call an adult by their first name. Now, she’d gotten more and more comfortable with you over the summer and just recently was able to finally see you as Daddy’s girlfriend and not Miss. (Y/L/N). Soon enough, she was falling asleep with you on the couch or your bed when you babysat her, and had just mistakenly called you mommy a day or two ago.

Levi and you had talked about that situation happening before, so you were prepared to sit her down and tell her that you weren’t her mommy yet, so you’d have to make up an easier nickname to call you. Both you and Levi were pretty sure that you were the person for each other, so there was no reason to forbid her from calling you that. Actually, it was during a post-steamy cuddle session that he’d brought it up.

“I can’t see myself being with anyone else. I know it’s early to say that. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I feel the same. No one I’ve been with has made me feel like you do, Levi.”

“M-me, too.”

“I was going to ask you to come over tonight anyways. Mikasa offered to babysit Isabel over the weekend.” He trailed off on the last word, trying to suggest that we had three open days without a little girl trying to sleep in between us at night. Of course you’d go over.

“I guess I can come. You’ll just have to help me test out some kindergarten activities for the new core curriculum. School starts again next week.” He groaned, more work, but agreed to do it. How hard could it be? It was just cutting and coloring and he did that with Isabel on a daily.

“Mikasa and I are going to watch the Twelve Dancing Princesses tonight. I know you wanted to watch it with me, (Y/F/N),” she said lowering her head onto your chest as you laid on the couch. You laughed and ruffled her hair that you’d just combed out for Levi. He was still in his home office running over papers and making phone calls. Your job was to get Isabel ready and packed to go to Mikasa’s, but she was running late, so you decided to watch videos on your phone till she got there.

“That’s okay, Bel. I’ve seen it before. That means when you come back over, you can watch the Princess and the Pauper with me.” The little girl smiled, which was followed by a yawn as she watched some toy opening video on YouTube.

“Can we sing like last time?” You laughed a bit, so you didn’t disturb her tired form, slowly slipping into a nap as she laid on you. Apparently, Levi let her stay up last night, forgetting that this little girl won’t tear her eyes away from the television until you force her too. He had gone back to do some work and when he emerged at two in the morning, there she was struggling to keep her eyes open. So much for trying to get her back into a school sleep schedule. You were no better though, going to bed at three last night because you waited last minute to start writing lesson plans. This made you yawn along with her and close your eyes.

“Yes, we can sing like we did with Frozen.” She hummed a bit, snuggling again against your chest as she decided it was time to take a nap. You quickly agreed with that idea.

Knocking on the door broke Levi from looking at the figures for the latest project and he leaned out of his office to see both you and Isabel sleeping on the couch. He smiled to himself, heart singing at the view, and went to open the door for his cousin.

“Where’s she at?” He frowned at Mikasa, moving so she could walk in and see you two sleeping on the couch. Levi didn’t want to move you two, and in actuality he wanted to add another picture to the album on his phone, but it would be way too embarrassing to do in front of Mikasa. Mikasa on the other hand had put a pizza in the oven and was ready to go. Levi grabbed her arm to stop her from shaking you two awake.

“Let them sleep. They both stayed up late.” She rolled her eyes at Levi and he responded with an even more annoyed eye roll. Couldn’t she calm down for a few minutes?

“They get five more minutes of beauty sleep.”

“How gracious.” He stood there, arms crossed, looking over at the two who had no idea Mikasa walked in the door. You had one hand over Isabel’s head and the other hanging of the couch, gripping a phone still playing some YouTube video in the background. Isabel had her small hand touching your cheek, head buried in your chest as she snored soundly on her favorite bed. When Mikasa looked over at her cousin, she thought she was going to be sick. It was the same look you had coming back from you two’s first date and one she’d seen on your face when you bounced into their office. She’s gotten used to you, but this was the first time she saw Levi like that. She snorted at him and he dropped it, morphing back into his normal, harsh glare.

“Never thought you’d be so wrapped around (Y/F/N)’s finger.” Levi scoffed at her, making sure it wasn’t loud enough to wake you two.

“I’m just admiring my girlfriend and kid; can I not do that, brat?” Mikasa laughed a bit at him trying to hide his embarrassment with another insult. He did the same when she walked in on you two making out in his office, having forgotten to lock the door.

“You can, just not with my best friend. Makes me sick.” Levi felt like his eyes were going to roll out of his head. Once you two started dating, that whole friend group had been insufferable to him. Eren and Jean talking about all their college flings with you, Connie and Sasha always bursting out laughing for no reason, and Mikasa made fun of him for showing emotion. The only one he still liked was Armin who inquired about your class activities as school and the other kids besides Isabel.

“When are you going to marry her?” Levi was taken aback by that question, but Mikasa was completely cool. It sounded so natural coming from her lips that Levi couldn’t help but actually answer back. It wasn’t a surprise to Mikasa when he told her his intentions. From the day you came back from your first date, she knew you’d probably become her cousin in less than a year.

“Haven’t planned out anything, but I have a ring.” She laughed at him again, this time adding a tad bit of happiness into it. Yeah, she was okay with Levi and you, but she didn’t know how the others would take the news. Eren and Jean would be distressed, Historia and Sasha ecstatic, and Connie and Armin probably neutrally happy. She’d probably have to pull Eren “that should’ve been me” Jaeger and Jean “if only she gave me a shot” Kiersten home from some random bar.

“Did you tell Isabel?” Levi nodded, remembering the conversation he had to have with her about keeping very, very important secrets. He even said that if Isabel told you, he would cry, which made it seem very serious to Isabel.

“She helped me pick it. Something about knowing what plastic rings (Y/F/N) liked. She slipped up this week though and called (Y/F/N) mommy. I had to bust my ass to cover that up.” This made Mikasa actually smile. Her best friend would be a great mom, but she didn’t want to think about it. You weren’t the first person she thought was going to get married in their group. Probably Historia, or Armin and his girlfriend, not you, the girl that fell into the Education major who partied all the time stereotype.

“You’re marrying someone crazy; I hope you know that. By day, she’s a wonderful kindergarten teacher who all her students and parents love, and by night, she’s on top of some table in the club singing to Abba.” Levi grit his teeth, remembering clearly the first time he was forced out with you and the brats. Eren challenged you to a drinking contest and you stupidly accepted, which made it Levi’s job to drag you home and nurse a hangover the next day. It didn’t help that the next day you had another Teacher’s Institute meeting and complained to him that everyone there knew you were hungover. Those were some giant hoops Levi had to jump through to explain to Isabel why you were “sick”.

“Who do you think is the one getting her down and waking her up for school the next day?” Not caring anymore about saving face with Mikasa, he took his phone out, taking a picture of his two girls. Staring down at you holding his daughter, his heart swelled even more. You were going to be a great mom to Isabel, even if you told Levi that you weren’t made for it. Levi thought the same thing when he held Isabel for the first time, alone and abandoned. He reassured you, saying that Isabel has never had a mom in the first place, but you were still worried.

You don’t have to be worried, he thought watching Mikasa kick you awake, you’re perfect. His perfect little teacher.

“Five minutes is up. Time to come to Aunty Mikasa’s so you won’t end up in therapy later in life for childhood trauma!”

xx Perhaps I got a LITTLE carried away, i hope you like it though! It’s a bit less cute than originally planned

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman scenario #attack on titan levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #dadlevi #modernau #aot x reader #aot x y/n

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glamrockmonarch · 3 years

Text

The Land That Our Grandchildren Knew (B!Reader x Brian May)

THIS WORK IS PART OF THE ORIGINAL TIMELINE

Requested: NO

Type: SFW, FLUFF ?, ANGST.

Summary: A little glance at life back to normal after Brian and B!Reader get over the cheating scandal.

Warnings: None.

A/N: So this came out of nowhere in my mind. I have struggled with being creative for a while and I just do not know why(?) but here we are! I hope someone out there enjoys reading this one.

*For anyone who does not remember (lol it has been a while): B!Reader (often B!R) is "Brian!Reader", and R!Reader (or R!R) is "Roger!Reader".

“The one thing he did not know was how much I loved him. In a previous life, in a time when things were so much more complicated. When war was splitting us apart and leaving us breathless. Motionless in a world of aggressive turmoil. There was little we could do when everything was amiss. All around us things were blowing up, giving in upon themselves the buildings fell, and the cities died along with their lights and spectacles.

“The love I grew and nurtured for him was the last reminding power of the old Earth, scattered through the cosmos like dust as I searched for him in a ridiculous journey. I did not meet a king in a tiny planet, and I never saw a rose grow on the dry lands of the foreign space countries. We had each other but time made it so that I was here today while he was here yesterday. Today was never ours, today was a promise we believed and ate up and followed with blind eyes until the moment when the sound of truth, deafening and cruel, locked us out of each other’s life. And still, forever, my love for him is true and enduring. Out there, I know he will feel my presence in the air, see me in the clouds, savour me in the smell of rain and grass. He will miss me when the night is cold, and the sound of wind reminds him of my voice… Yes, he will be empty when he hears the silence, the way I will always feel too when I look back at Earth and regret every second spent away from the one who called me Venus.”

The crowd claps and smiles and I see the people in the front look at the books in their hands with expressions of confusion and deep thought. A good reason to write something is to make people wonder, so for B!Reader this one was a success. She had taken so long to finish the manuscript, not that she was being lazy; with the scandal of Brian cheating and the twins taking sides, it was hard to focus on this. This book was not what she intended on writing when she began doing research for it. It started with the Irish War of Independence, she went around Britain meeting historians with much better understanding and knowledge on the topic. It soon turned upside down when the news appeared on every single form of media… Brian’s stunt. She would call it what it was now; he had cheated.

It was hard to get over it. B!Reader took time off with her mother in Scotland, she had taken the kids with her, much to Brian’s displeasure, but he was in no position to complain. When she came back home, she was still defeated by the details. Brian’s lame explanation sounded more like an excuse but even she had to admit that her husband did not have the best track record when it came to women. She was probably the one he had been the most loyal to at that point – even when he had cheated on her once.

So, she tried. They sought professional help. A therapist. First couple’s therapy, and then one-on-one sessions alone. She hated every second of it, which could not have been fun to hear for their therapist. Nothing seemed to be helping, in fact B!Reader talked to a lawyer in secret… but her career was also on the line at that point, and she was desperate for ideas, desperate to reconnect with the only man she ever truly and completely loved. Her manager had the idea, “read some of Brian’s stuff, maybe ask him about his PhD work, maybe he will inspire you and if he doesn’t at least you will have spoken to each other… it’s worth a try”. And so B!R did that, although not in the way her manager had meant. She was stirring her on the direction of reading some of his lyrics not his space dust thesis… Nevertheless, the story began there.

B!R could not understand much, and she wound up spending a lot of time talking about physics and space with her husband. Brian was a patient teacher, she already knew that, but it was now being confirmed to her. He was also happy to be able to go on and on for hours, the topics where his cup of tea, and they had numerous cups of tea too while B!R took notes and began toying with a historical fantasy mix for her next book.

Today she was reading from her favourite chapter in the book. It had been a massive hit; one she could not quite understand. If she was being honest, the book was more like therapy for her than her actual therapy sessions had been. She cried while writing it and poured a lot of emotion into it, which she rarely did. Her writing had always been more …impersonal, presented almost as a sort of biography of fictional characters rather than real moving parts of the imaginary world they were living in.

She had never written such an odd story before, with time skips and a weird space journey concepts implanted in the middle of 1920 Ireland.

“You did great, mum.” A proud Fred wrapped his arm around her middle.

Even though the teen boy was still that, a teenager, he managed to already stand a couple centimetres taller than his own mother.

“Thank you love, did you get anything of that?” She wondered, wrapping her arm around him in the familiar way a mother does.

Arm around his shoulder, soft play of the tender fingers on the dark curls on the back of the head of her “little boy”.

“Nothing at all,” he smiled and shrugged, honesty dripping in shameless glee from his tone. “But that’s the cool part, I don’t think anyone gets it.” The younger of the twins looked at his mother up and down in her bright blue dress. “Except Dad. Was that the point?”

B!Reader looked at her son and inhaled a deep long breath, which she held for a moment. Her brows furrowed and her mouth moved like that of a fish.

“Maybe.” She conceded.

“Hey mum, would you sign my book?” Harry interrupted, bringing along Jazz and a peculiarly uninterested Max.

Harry gave his mother a wide smile and put a copy of her own book in her hands.

“For Harry, please.”

“Dork,” Max rolled his eyes.

He was the only one to admit he had not finished the book yet the previous weekend when Fred mentioned his mother was doing a reading at a local bookstore while they sat by the Taylor’s pool. And he rushed to get through it. Max was not dumb, and he managed to grasp some of the concepts in the complicated plot, although he did not let on to any of his friends.

“Loved the wormhole bits Mrs May.” Max said once Harry had his signed copy reading for Harry with Love. “That dark hole and the speed of dark and light near the end were mind-blowing. I never thought of you as a fantasy writer!”

B!Reader nodded and blushed at the compliments. Max was a lot like Roger in that he did know how to make a girl blush with what appeared to be little effort.

“I am glad you liked it,” she said, a trace of pride in her voice.

“I really wish Darragh and Conor had ended up together,” Jazz voiced from around Harry’s tall lean and awkward teen figure. “They were obviously meant for each other.”

Fred had been in tears when he read the ending of the book. Of course, he would have hoped for his mother’s first queer paring to end together but what that did was echoing life.

“You have to be the eighth person who’s said that to me today.”

R!Reader, Roger and Brian were in a conversation of their own next to the long table B!Reader was about to sit before to meet some fans and sign as many copies of her book as time allowed.

She eyed the silver hair on her husband’s hair, she had been discreet when describing Darragh in her book. A tall, talented, middle-aged, idealist Irish man. A man born in a difficult time. A man who fell in love by mistake, with Conor. A young man described often as immature, who enjoyed a quiet life on board of a spaceship when he got caught up in a black hole and wound up going back hundreds of years and miles into the past. Conor had almost been killed in his attempts of helping his beloved Darragh in fighting what he considered to be hiswar. The battles gave their relationship meaning, although it was never spoken about between them. The adoration was always palpable and present to the last page. Down to the moment when Conor acknowledges that his lover cannot come with him once he finds the way back into his ship, and then it turns into a matter of will. Darragh is revealed to have a similar story, only that… he was left stranded in 1905 with no way back to his ship. “The voice of Venus” was really a metaphor for B!Reader. A complicated one, as her feelings were when she had to love the man who broke her heart. She felt lost the way Conor felt, but she could tell Brian had been lost for a while before the entire ordeal – defeated in the same manner as Darragh. And it was fitting, he was older, he was educated. He should have known better than to play in the physics lab with those dangerous materials. Brian should have known better than to play with that old woman. Conor could have turned his back on Darragh, he knew he was of no help now that he was so invested in the past – now their present. He knew Darragh and himself would never be able to be together if he stayed and they would most likely get killed if they marched on. So B!Reader made them split. She was about to leave Brian when she started writing her book, so it made sense. And when she realised, she did not want to end her marriage, she still wrote it that way because this was the ending she had seen coming for herself before – one she fortunately managed to evade, which still was the ending for many couples.

B!Reader watched the teens as they began discussing the book, Max and Jazz were defending the plot, Fred joined in and the three of them seemed to be getting passionate about proving Harry wrong. The eldest of the group was stubborn about his stance on Conor being right to leave Darragh.

His mother could not help but remember that same stubbornness from the first few weeks after the story broke. Harry had been the one to take it the hardest. When they packed for Scotland, she had to stop him from shattering his project guitar, the yellow guitar he and Brian had been working on for a while. “I don’t want it! I do not want anything from him! He is a liar!” He had yelled, with the side of his face still reddened from a slap he received from Brian. She still could not believe she managed to stay impartial at that moment after the mess that had happened in the kitchen when Harry insulted his father – earning a slap from him.

“It’s alright,” B!Reader placed her arm around the twins’ shoulders. “Conor had to go back anyway. He had a family in the spaceship.”

“What?” Jazz was the first one to open her mouth.

With a laugh, the young writer looked at the confused faces around her. “He could never stay…” She shrugged.

Harry’s expression flashed with a difficult emotion, which both Jazz and his mother noticed.

The short girl flipped her long blonde hair and checked the time on her phone, “no wonder I’m hungry! Who’s coming?” Her blue eyes searched around in an almost innocent manner.

“You got to be joking, we JUST ate.”

Max stepped back from his sister and Fred followed, “sorry, I told dad I’d get lunch with him.”

Blue eyes flipped onto Harry’s figure. B!Reader gave him a squeeze and let go, the sigh he let out being enough of an answer for Jazz to show a large smile, reaching out to grab his hand and pull her to her side. It almost seemed a pass of the baton.

The boy walked taller than Jazz and still, it looked like he was the smaller child. She was sure they had been doing a good job as parents, although that slipdid a number on Harry. The curly haired boy pulled the glass door open and let Jazz go first, only to have her childishly cling on to his arm once they were outside, a smile breaking his serious expression when his young friend told him something – they were too far for B!Reader to make out what Jazz said.

“Where are those two going?” Brian walked up to her.

He had a cardboard cup of coffee in his hand, which he offered to her. With a mumble she took it and had a testing sip – it was too bitter, but it would do. “Nando’s. Probably.” She gave her husband a soft smile.

Brian nodded in silence, a reflective look on his face.

“He needs some time, Bri.” She guessed what he was thinking about.

“It’s been a year,” he said with caution.

“He is getting over it, love.” She took a step closer to Brian and whispered, “he’s picked up the guitar again.” They shared a look before someone called for B!Reader and she left her husband with a peck on the cheek.

#original timeline #about the original timeline #b!reader x brian may #b!reader #brian may #present day!brian may

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iwantitiwriteit · 4 years

Text

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 1

The Meet Cute - Part 1

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris Evans at a rooftop, industry party in New York, but will your awkwardness ruin the night?

Warnings: Profanity, Sexual connotations, but overall fluff

Notes: Please check out the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part!

Expensive, rooftop kickback. Ice-cold beer in hand. Film industry tastemakers and Top 40 hits to soundtrack it all. It should be an ideal way to end one of the last few days of summer. And yet, Chris couldn’t help but feel out of sorts. He is a, rather THE, fun-loving party guy. But tonight, he just wasn’t feeling it. He was in a funk, and didn’t know the reason for it.

Could it be the fact he turned another year older a little over a month ago? No, I’m grateful for the blessing of aging.

Could it be that he didn’t care to be around the people in this party? That’s not it. Yeah it’s a bunch of industry schmucks, but Mackie and Scott are here; those are my boys! We always have a great time.

It could very well be a case of “the breakup blues”, as Scott puts it. Hardly, we didn’t even exchange ‘I love you’s’. It’s hardly a breakup if it wasn’t even love… right?

Chris shrugged to himself as he tuned back into the conversation around him. But as he got himself up to speed, he wished he hadn’t.

“So I have this friend I think you should meet, Chris. real cool girl. I’m not saying she’s the “perfect match” or that you should even go on a date, but you never know… y’all should just meet,” Anthony says in as neutral a tone he can muster. Aw shit, here we go again.

When Chris doesn’t give him a reaction, Scott too, tries to maintain some neutrality when asking, “Oh, really?? Tell us about her, why don’t you?” Jeez, these two.

“Well, she’s hella artsy, a creative type, if you will.”

Chris decides to patronize them, asking, “Yeah? What’s she do?”

“She’s a… uh… musician!” Scott answers, clearly excited by his brother’s minute show of interest, but realizes he’s shown their hand.

Chris raises an eyebrow to his younger brother. “So you know her too?”

“Yeah… I mean I don’t know her super well, but I met her recently… through Mackie.” Not a complete lie.

That’s… actually different. They’re always trying to set me up entrepreneurs who want me to throw money at their lip gloss business after the second date. Or worse, influencers, who are overly concerned with their “brand” and make me wait to eat while she takes pictures of the food so her “feed can also be fed”. Sheesh. But a musician, a fellow artist, could be different… “That’s cool, what kind of music?”

“It’s like alternative pop,” Scott answers, hoping to keep his brother’s attention in the subject.

“And that is …”

“…like, mostly pop, but it’s got a little bit of everything.”

“Right… what ever happened to ‘keeping shit simple’?” Chris states more than asks, as he takes a swig of his beer.

“You sound like an old man,” Scott quips, to which Chris playfully flips him off.

“ANYWAYS,” Anthony attempts to get the conversation back on track, “she’s also very intelligent, funny, youthful…”

“Youthful, huh? How old is she?”

“She’s… ya’know… young at heart… and on paper…”

“Bro, how old is she??”

“Twenty-- ”

“Let me stop you right there, ‘cos wow! I see how it is!” Outwardly, Chris feigns offense, but inwardly he’s just planning an escape from this conversation.

“You see me: a damn-near middle-age man; no wife, no kids, no GIRLFRIEND, and think I’m looking to “just meet” someone 10+ years younger than me? You think I’m looking to start my mid-life crisis or something? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I’m out this bitch!” Chris over-dramatically scoffs, throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. As he wanders inside away from them, he laughs to himself at their antics.

“C’mon man! We’re just looking out for you!” Anthony shouts after him.

And it’s true: He knows they mean well, but the constant hovering over and hand holding of his love life is getting to be… suffocating. Chris wants to meet someone without pressure or pretense. He wants someone real, someTHING real. But more than anything right now, he wants to be left alone about it. Huh, guess I found the reason for my funk.

——————————————————————————

Having just come from an incredible writing session, you’d somewhat forgotten you’d been invited to “schmooze” some Hollywood types. You arrive to the party well into the evening, around 10:30 pm or so. Enough time to ‘schmooze’ and get the hell out. God, I HATE ass kissing… If it were up to you, you wouldn’t be here tonight, but Anthony and Scott were persistent on getting you out.

You hadn’t bothered changing your outfit cos it was comfortable + cute + completely party ready, in your humble opinion, but the disapproving looks from a couple of bougie Bettys by the in-door bar didn’t go unnoticed. I really couldn’t care less. I just collaborated with one of my most faviorite writers EVER for Mackie’s movie!

Your name sounds off in the near distance. It’s a couple of your co-stars, Ansel and Jaden. You’d met them previously at a Vanity Fair party about a year ago. They’d each been publicly supportive of your work and you’d been *platonically* in each of their DMs, but they’re both no more than acquaintances.

Chatting to them for a bit, there’s introductions to the preexisting group, some of whom seem a little star struck, or maybe taken aback by your attire? It’s getting harder for me to read people nowadays.

You ask them where Scott and Mackie are, seeing as the former invited you here and the latter is a good friend of yours. Ansel points you in a general direction, and you thank him before you head that way.

The indoor dining and lounge area open up to a large, open-air, rooftop patio. It’s packed with film industry folk; A-list to up-and-coming, like yourself. You’re not exactly sure what the celebration is, just that Scott & Mackie insisted that you show your face, rub eblows, but most importantly, let loose for once; seeing as you are making your break into acting this year. A much needed change of pace from your usual work.

‘Japan’ by Famous Dex is playing as you sneak up behind an unexpecting Scott. Taking him by the hips from behind, you sway to the beat with your pelvis to his backside. To your amusement, he’s visibly startled and turns around, his face changing from “WTF?!” to “OMG!!” when he sees you. You don’t stop dancing, but instead get a little more raunchy as Scott joins in with you. You share a laugh, hug and air kiss.

“Let me stop. I’m not using all my moves on you tonight!”

“That’s too bad, but maybe we can find someone for you to use them on,” he replies with a wink. You playfully roll your eyes and swat at his arm. Yeah, highly doubt it. Not what I’m here for, anyways.

"How ya doing Kid? How was the writing sesh?” Mackie asked while being a little distracted with texting. You assumed it was for work because usually Anthony was a very present individual. Not only was he in the movie, but he was a producer, and you figured he hadn’t turned that part of himself off even though he was at a party.

You started to gush about the session, the collaboration, how that one part “just came together” when… oh my fucking gawd.

“Hey Kid, I want you to meet my good friend—“

“He was my brother before he was your friend!”

“Wow, really you guys?”

Mackie finishes introducing you to Chris Evans. Chris motherfucking Evans. You wonder if he’d always been standing there or if he just walked over, because you didn’t notice him before. You shake hands, and get a little shy now, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. Chris plasters on a polite, but fake smile. Shit. He can see the fangirl in my eyes!! Get a grip sis!

“So... how do you know these two?” Chris motions left then right, from Scott to Anthony.

“Uh... um... movie.” You nod as if you’re trying to convince not only Chris, but yourself, that you just gave an adequate answer.

“What she means is that she’s a part of the movie Mackie and I are doing.”

“Oh, alright cool, cool. What do you do?”

“Well, I’m a sing--”

“SINGle actress! She’s very single, and very much an actress,” Anthony looks at you with widened eyes as he nods his head slowly, like you bumped your head and forgot what you do. What’s up with him?

“Um, yeah, I have a supporting role, which is more than enough for my intro to the silver screen.”

“Your first movie? Congrats! You’re in good hands with these guys on set with you. Just remember--”

“Stay away from bananas?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. Wow. No one makes a move in the awkward air you set. You just made a reference to his somewhat embarrassing-- yet very comical-- film debut. You dummy!

“I’m so sor—”

“No. No, no don’t. It’s, uh... fine,” he says, half laughing. You all return to awkward silence, with Chris looking off into the distance, pretending to wave at someone so he can plan an escape for the second time tonight. You’re too busy studying the ground and mentally kicking yourself for your stupidity to notice Scott and Anthony, panicked looks on their faces and gesturing to the other to “do something” to save this train wreck of a conversation. Anthony decides to break the silence.

“Yo Kid, Lemme see your hand.”

“My hand? Why?”

“Just let me see it!”

Your hand is guided to Chris’ clothed, taut pec by Anthony.

“Feel that? Good stuff, right? Soft to the touch, yet strong and dependable. But most importantly, makes ya feel real good in bed.” No he didn’t just say that!!

Chris mouths a ‘wow’ with raised brows, and you cautiously take back your hand, slightly bewildered *but not really* by Anthony’s boldness. Anthony still holds on to your hand lightly.

“What man? It’s Egyptian cotton! I don’t mean to embarrass ya!”

“Somehow, I think you do,” Chris chuckles while he takes a swig of his beer, eyeing you tentatively. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him, and just fix your eyes straight ahead. I’m literally staring at a wall... of muscle.

“Look, let me see your hand.”

“Hey, hey! He ain’t stroking my chest; it is NOT that kind of party… gotta at least take me to dinner first.” You whisper the last part, but Chris still catches it and laughs at your quip. The tension in your shoulders eases up some, but only a little, not trusting yourself to get too comfortable.

“Just trust me!” Anthony whines at you.

“Last time I “just trusted you” Mackie, I ended up fleeing a pack of angry ducks… I still have the scar!”

“Wait, wha—“

Mackie brought yours and Chris’ hands together for his large hand to hold your smaller one, and there was… electricity?

“Isn’t that the softest hand you ever felt? What do you use?”

“Uh… Shea butter.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it! Oh won’t you look at that. Her ring finger is naked, hm… and look at how good she looks in white!” Nope, just more awkwardness.

You share an embarrassed smile and glance away from each other while each of your hands gently fall back to your sides.

“Leave it to Mackie to be subtle…” Scott intervenes, “Well! Now that all the cool kids are here, why don’t you, Chris, take our lovely friend here over to the bar to get a drink so we can get this party started!”

——————————————————————————

Silence settles over you and Chris at the busy bar as you wait for the bartender to service you. It’s not necessarily awkward, but definitely not comfortable. You take this moment to breathe in the New York air to soothe your nerves, while also starkly avoiding eye contact with the handsome devil to your left. But after a while, you decide to take the lead with small talk.

“Hey... I am SUPER sorry about my ‘banana’ joke earlier. I didn’t mean to--”

“Stop. It’s fine, really. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You exhale a little at his words, relieved you didn't offend him. “I’m the one who should say ‘sorry’... I normally laugh at jokes about myself.”

“Then why didn’t you? You left me hanging out there!” He chuckles a bit as he sips his beer. Now it’s his turn to exhale.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Ok, that’s, uh… cool.” Chris side glances at you, finding your nervous energy amusing... and endearing. He decides to mess with you a little.

“So, how long have you been acting?”

“Oh, uh... not that long. I’ve done a few things here and there, but this is my first serious role.”

“Ok. And how long have you been single?” Realizing how that might’ve sounded suggestive, he attempts to backtrack. “I didn’t mean like-- just Mackie made mention-- I wasn’t like-- ‘s just trying to mess with you a little...” Well THAT backfired.

You couldn’t help but giggle at seeing him flustered. “I guess it’s my turn to say, ‘It’s fine’?” to this, Chris is visably relieved. “Yeah, I would also apologize for Mackie’s behavior, but you’ve known him longer than I have, so I’ll let you claim him when he acts like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a meddling… muffdiver…?” you couldn’t think of anything good, but Chris laughs heartily at this. You can’t help but admire his strong, manly features as they melt into something reminiscent of a child. Head thrown back, clutching his chest, boisterous laughter booming from him. You can’t help but join him in laughing at your lame joke.

“So does this mean I owe you an apology?” He leans on the bar, looking every bit the yacht daddy and gives you a sly smirk. Is he… flirting?

“I guess so. I’m waiting…” you say, tapping your imaginary watch and a sly smirk of your own. Am I flirting??

“Well, tough luck… ‘Kid’. You’ll be waiting forever. I’m not apologizing for shit Mackie does cos he’s my amazing friend who I’ll always ‘claim’ and love unconditionally… even if he acts like a ‘meddling muffdiver’.”

“First of all: aww! That was very bromantic of you.” Chris chuckles at your unique term, making a mental note to use it sometime. It’s cute. Like her smile…

“And Secondly?”

“Secondly… I’ve only begrudgingly given Mackie permission to call me ‘Kid’.”

“Why’s that?”

“I guess… Cos he’s like an uncle to me, and you gotta let him have some things,” you laugh to yourself thinking of your relationship with Anthony.

“But don’t let the nickname fool ya!” You continued, “I’m a grown ass woman, at a grown ass party, ready to have some fun, and shake my grown ass… “

“Ass?” You both pause for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s great to laugh with someone like this…

“I’ll admit: I didn’t think about where that line of ranting would land.” You both take a brief moment to take each other in. Looking at him while he’s looking at you starts to make your face feel hot, so you break the silence.

“So… what are we celebrating tonight? I’m kinda new to this scene,”

“You know what, I don’t even know what. I was invited by a few different people, each with their own reasons for coming. So, anything really. ”

You’re finally served your drinks and make the short walk back over to Anthony and Scott. When you reached them you raised your glass to signal you were making a toast.

“Well, here’s to good health, good company, endless creativity, and, and…”

“Grown-ass asses!” Chris finishes for you.

“Amen! Salud!” You all clinked drinks, but Mackie and Scott were confused by the last bit.

“You had to be there,” Chris answered with a wink in your direction when they inquired. You blushed slightly, never more thankful for your melanin to cover it up.

Mackie and Scott looked between you and Chris, confusion etched on their faces, as you’d only been alone for all of 5 minutes. They resolved into knowing, satisfied looks between each other.

This goes unnoticed by you and Chris. The pair of you start talking about the movie that you’re starting next month with his brother and friend.

This turns into talking about how you met them, more laughter, some refilled drinks, more conversation, then light touches to arms and hands. The touches were unintentional, but welcomed by both of you, leading to lots of coy smiles and lingering looks. Tonight might not be so bad after all…

Part 2

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans x you #Slow Burn Series

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randomikemendegen · 4 years

Text

It's nearly 4:45 in the morning (at the time of writing) where I am but fuck it, my brain's creative juices are flowing but my body says no so HERE'S A TEXT POST ABOUT MY OCS AND THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR RESPECTIVE DORM LEADERS--

(note: I WILL be drawing a relationship chart sooner or later... or in the future, hopefully soon 🤡🤡🤡)

HEARTSLABYUL

Quintin Blanpine — Riddle Rosehearts

At first, their relationship was really.... kind of "cruel", in a way really.

What with Riddle essentially working Quin to the bone, though his reasoning was more of [He needs to build more confidence in himself] and genuinely thought that what he was doing was the right thing. Quintin wasn't PLEASED AT ALL with the treatment, but kept quiet about it...

.... at least until Chapter 1 occured.

They got to actually talking and found that they had some common grounds and became close acquaintances.

(One such thing is their shared thought of Seisear being a huge PAIN to deal with despite his usually good and sincere intentions; another is actually them bonding over the dormitory's hedgehogs and love of crossword puzzles.)

Seisear Marchare — Riddle Rosehearts

A one-sided "friendship" on Sei's part (initially).

Riddle really HATED how Seisear was almost always out-of-control "like a petulant child" and seemed to follow his own sets of rules, thus he more often than not hit the other student with his Unique Magic in order to make him reflect even just slightly.

Seisear on the other hand found Riddle to be quite the "hilarious little prince"~. He always found the redhead's reactions funny, and while he may act terribly uncontrollable, Sei does notice how lonesome and closed-off Riddle seems to be-- it's mostly the reason why he likes to bug his classmate almost all the time~.

(Thankfully it seems like after Chapter 1, they've actually become closer and a little bit more friendly... though Sei still keeps getting collared with [Off With Your Head!] due to how far he can go with messing with Riddle for the laughs~.]

SAVANACLAW

Lala-Phula Tigris — Leona Kingscholar

Kind of an odd relationship.

On one hand, they both act somewhat antagonistic towards each other, on the other hand they're actually... kind of close??? To say the least??? Like, they casually throw snarky words and insults at each other, but they also acknowledge each other as "okay"???

Leona finds Lala to be more like a bothersome kid that won't stop pulling his tail for some attention (if you can call the regular declarations of challenge to be that).

Meanwhile Lala thinks that Leona isn't deserving of being "the king of the pack" (ie. dorm leader, in her own terms) but also begrudgingly accepting the fact that he is genuinely strong and thus respects him.

Raetel Gura — Leona Kingscholar

More animosity here than the previous one that Leona and Lala had, though it's not out of actual malice and there's no actual fighting that's happened so far (except for the first time they met), but there ARE some close calls here and there.

Though they're more prone to hurling insults at each other and getting creative with their wordings on how to best annoy the other instead.

Raetel is GENUINELY livid with Leona, mostly out of the fact that they know that Leona could do so much better but chooses NOT to and instead prefers to usually lazy around.

Leona on the other hand mostly thinks of Raetel just as "that fox-sham of a teacher's kid", along with expressing annoyance at how much Raet gets up in his case.

OCTAVINELLE

Leviotan Genov — Azul Ashengrotto

This relationship is on thin-fucking-ice. Period.

Levi knows Azul's type and thus is ALWAYS wary and cautious of his dorm leader, while Azul notes on how distrusting Levi is and is just as wary of his potential plans and methods in which he can foil him.

Funnily enough though, they actually respect each other to some extent and have some slightly similarities here and there that have even both of them acknowledging that fact.

It's to the point of them actually often being seen talking with each other, though if you inquire about that they'll just reply with "it's just business talk".

Viviane Genov — Azul Ashengrotto

Friends....???? To be more accurate, Vivi sees Azul as a friend (like she does with literally everyone else) while on Azul's end he's not sure if they could even BE called "friends".

They certainly are on good terms though that's for sure.

Viviane can see past through Azul's personality and pick up on how actually lonely he is and how much hard work he had to do to finally get to his current self, so she's genuinely really nice and friendly to him.

Meanwhile Azul's kind of wary about Vivi's sincere attitude and is a bit doubtful, though he doesn't mind it at all now that they're both in 2nd year and even seems to actually take a liking to having her in his company on occasion.

Azul still thinks she would make for a good business advertisement and attraction to Mostro Lounge, but Levi threatens to suffocate him to death if he ever tries to so he'll have to pass on the tempting thoughts.

(NO SCARABIA FOR NOW I'M SORRYYYY :(((( I'LL MAKE SOME SOON I PROMISE)

POMEFIORE

Fuyume Yukitosu — Vil Schoenheit

Acquaintances? Of sorts?? It's,,, kinda hard to describe this relationship.

Fuyume has no specific feelings whatsoever to her dorm leader and is perfectly willing to go/do whatever he asks or whatever house rules there are.

Vil meanwhile likes the fact that Fuyu is among the more obedient (especially to the strict regiments that he makes EVERYONE adhere to) of the Pomefiore students, though he can't help but vocalize on how she should open up more to other people.

Which results in her acting like a confused child at times because she has zero ideas on how to NORMALLY converse with someone, so Vil personally takes to putting her in more social circles despite any plights she may have.

He is slightly bit jealous at how she doesn't need to do anything and still remain beautiful, but that feeling decreases due to the fact that she's basically almost like a wallflower with no life and thus can't help but also becoming strict with her in an attempt to get her to finally bloom.

IGNIHYDE

Ophiou Chos Gorgos — Idia Shroud

Close friends!! They have a lot of shared hobbies, likes, dislikes, and interests!!!

They're even close enough that they call each other with nicknames and are even online friends (they even message each other whenever Idia doesn't wanna go out of his room).

Ophiou does sincerely appreciate and like Idia's companionship (along with Ortho), and is very grateful to have someone he could finally call a "friend", yet he does acknowledge on how isolated Idia is more so than himself and can't help but occasionally worry. He is also still mildly scared of being rejected by his (first) friend because of his eyes.

Idia, meanwhile, is DELIGHTED to find someone he calls a "kindred spirit" and is even more open and honest with Ophi due to this fact. Though even then, sometimes Idia's slightly afraid that he might push him away if he ever gets too heated up about any topic and end up looking/acting creepy.

Regardless, they both game together on occasion and even hold anime marathons. (Of course, Ortho is more than welcome to join in)

Raneus Salpho — Idia Shroud

This relationship, unlike the previous one, is more distant. The two of them don't interact that much, but whenever they do, it's with a comfortable distance between them.

It's not that they hate each other, it's just that sometimes their interests align and it's mostly the reason they interact. (Even though they've known each other from way back, they were still distant towards each other and didn't talk much)

Idia often approaches Ran for commissions in sewing cosplay clothing or even just general merchandise that can be sewn before quickly going back to his room.

Though the few amount of times he actually managed to talk with Ran, he found that they actually had some few common grounds... before Ran ended up (unintentionally) scaring him (again).

Raneis meanwhile is totally neutral to his dorm leader, but is a tiny bit annoyed with how Idia doesn't take care of his appearance and thus often finds himself essentially getting up on his face and even threatens him to take better care of himself. Besides that little nugget, he takes up on Idia's requests with no complaint whatsoever.

DIASOMNIA

Cirnu Alva Valirgethen — Malleus Draconia

Cirnu treats Malleus like a younger brother and you can't change my mind.

Okay okay, but in all seriousness, they have a really close relationship! Almost sibling-like, in a way.

While Cirnu does like occasionally playfully messing with Malleus, it's just harmless fun and she's quick to apologize if she says anything out of line. She (also) looks out for Malleus and feels bad that he's not getting invited to anything by anyone, and tries her best to cheer him up by reminding the other Diasomnia members to NOT forget to invite him to any parties that the dorm may have.

(It's also the major reason as to why, despite knowing about it since way back, she allows and supports Malleus and Yuu to interact with each other.)

Malleus, meanwhile, does sincerely appreciate her efforts in making sure he does get invited to stuff and socializing, he does wish that she would be a bit more gentle in her readings since it's a bit embarrassing.

Especially since she often calls him "boy", despite the fact that even though she IS older than him, they only have a few years of an age gap between them.

Berebis R. L'Ephegor — Malleus Draconia

Another complicated relationship to explain??? Kind of????

On one hand, they've barely interacted with each other, but on the other, Malleus' heard of Bel so many times from either Lilia, Cirnu, Silver, and/or Sebek (definitely more with that last one due to his annoyance with Bel).

So Malleus more often than not decides to go looking for him out of curiosity.

After some awkward distance and general apathy (mostly from Bel's side) for a while, their relationship eventually becomes that of quiet acknowledgement and understanding. And occasional harmless jokes and teasing (from both sides).

Due to Bel being among the very few that neither fear nor revere him, Malleus finds some form of comfort and companionship in him. He's mildly curious as to why Bel is the way he is but doesn't push that topic any further since except for a few times due to being unintentionally more curious than he should.

Bel meanwhile didn't like the fact that the most powerful student of NRC kept approaching him and often ignored him, but eventually relented and decided to converse with Malleus. Only to actually end up slightly come to like how Malleus was different from his initial perception, and now kind of enjoys his company.... but you won't get him to admit it. Ever.

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toglidethroughlife · 4 years

Text

Brighter Than Any Star:

An intimate look at everyone’s new favorite bass player

(or the blades band au that nobody asked for)

*inspired by @iaraiumi‘s STUNNING guitarist tyril art (here)

tyril-centric and tyril x mc bc this would be 7k+ words if i didn’t focus on just one of them but i tried to give everyone a moment in the spotlight. credits to a fic i read from the 100 fandom years ago for the format

used my f!elf mc ryllea graywater for this (though i guess this is kind of a modern au idk asjdla); also i don’t play any musical instruments i’m sorry in advance for butchering any of the technical parts 😬

Tyril Starfury — with his red silk shirts and slicked back hair — looks every bit the part of a rock god on stage with the rest of BLADES; but here, in the confines of their tour bus, he is a quiet presence, calmly sipping tea in the corner with a notepad and pen in his hands, his mind far away in the early hours of the morning.

If you had told me eighteen months ago that I would be shadowing Broadway darling Tyril Starfury as he traveled cross-country with his new rock band, I would have laughed and called you preposterous.

And yet, here I am, witness to the madness.

Nia Ellarious, the band’s youngest member and resident pianist, offers me a cup of the same tea as Starfury’s, telling me to enjoy the quiet with an almost apologetic smile.

I understand what she means not long after.

(There’s no such thing as a quiet morning in the world of Mal Volari.)

Every bit as charming and flamboyant as his on-stage persona, Volari greets the entire bus a good morning with flourish, throwing both me and Ellarious a magnetic smile before slipping towards the coffee machine with exceptionally light feet. (More on that later.) He taps on every available surface while he waits for his coffee to brew, humming softly as if figuring out a melody right there on the spot.

If Starfury is bothered by Volari’s banging and humming, he makes no show of it, paying him no mind as he continues to scribble in his notepad.

Ellarious beams as the scene plays out in front of her. “It’s not every day that they don’t get on each other’s nerves,” she explains. “Especially in the morning.”

It’s around this time — almost noon now — that Ryllea Graywater, lead guitarist and vocalist, wakes and joins the group, heading straight towards Volari and the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Thanks,” she winks as she takes the cup from him, shooting Volari a shit-eating grin that he returns easily, already procuring another cup for himself.

It should be noted that Graywater doesn’t seem to talk to anyone until she’s had at least one cup of coffee, choosing instead to slide in beside Starfury in the dining booth, eyes darting towards the notepad he’s writing on. They kind of just... sit there, minding their own business amidst the chaos that is the rest of the bus.

(Volari’s launched into an animated story about the inspiration behind last year’s summer hit, “Contessa, Contessa”, but I can’t help being drawn to the more quiet story unfolding behind him in the dining booth.)

Slinging one arm against the backrest of Starfury’s seat, Graywater casually invites herself into his space, a thoughtful smile on her lips as she looks over the notepad in his hand. There’s an openness between them that tells me that this isn’t a new occurrence, a comfortable ease in the way they seem to be engaging in a wordless conversation.

“He’s kind of really private,” I recall the younger Starfury sibling, Adrina, telling me about his creative process years ago, at the release party for his collab album with then rumored girlfriend and writing partner Kaya Duskraven. “He’s always been a perfectionist. Doesn’t really let anyone other than Kaya hear anything until it’s finished.”

But there’s no trace of that here, in this quiet moment with Graywater, bright, almost triumphant smiles on their faces as she picks up a pen and scribbles something on the pad too, immediately tapping out a melody against the table as if to test-run it by Starfury.

The smile he gives her is glowing.

I look away — suddenly feeling like an intruder in their private moment — catching the tail-end of Volari’s Contessa story, right before Imtura (no publicly released surname) accidentally slams me against the wall when the bus makes a rocky turn.

“Oof, sorry there little guy.” She raises both hands in apology before heading straight for the coffee machine, haphazardly dumping its contents into a generous-sized mug before immediately proceeding to consume said coffee as she plunks onto the other end of the dining booth.

And that’s how the first morning of me shadowing BLADES goes.

Ellarious tells me I’m lucky it was a good one.

With over 16 years of experience under his belt, Tyril Starfury has been in the music and entertainment industry far longer than the rest of the BLADES members combined. At the tender age of nine, he won his first piano competition, regarded highly for his precision at such a young age. He would continue to play competitively until he discovers a new love — musical theater.

It’s no surprise that Starfury ends up on Broadway — he comes from a long line of revered artists, all of them regarded as geniuses of their time. Though some would argue that his family name opened doors that would otherwise be unavailable, no one could deny that it was his clear, soaring baritone and unrelenting work ethic that kept him on stage.

It’s on this stage that he met young Kaya Duskraven, an understudy in one of his shows, prompting a fruitful five-year partnership spanning two EPs and a mini-concert series, Stars in the Dusk.

(The name was a little on the nose, but the critics loved them all the same.)

The two shared such a comfortable rapport, on and off-stage, that they naturally sparked dating rumors — Starfury was always quick to deny them.

No one could have expected the partnership to end on such a bitter note.

To this day, no one knows the real reason behind their fallout — Starfury walked out in the middle of their televised performance without apology or explanation — though there have been no shortage of rumors and theories, a lot of them involving one Eleryn Rosecoven, better known in the industry as Shadow Court bassist dXenia.

I tried to bring it up once, after several bottles of beer have been consumed and the band is swapping stories over s’mores made over the tour bus stove.

I’ve never been shut out so fast in my life.

There’s an audible crack from the s’more now crushed in Imtura’s hand, her piercing amber eyes seemingly driving a death sentence into mine. Volari sighs disapprovingly (and dramatically) at me, and even Ellarious — friendly, cheery Nia — looks at me with a pointed glare, turning off the stove, signaling the end of s’mores night.

“I would prefer not to comment,” Starfury nods at me, years of practiced courtesy showing in his tone and all I want in that moment is for the earth to swallow me whole.

Graywater follows when he excuses himself from the group. Everyone else avoids me like the plague.

It’s hours later when Starfury and Graywater return to the bus — I pretend to have fallen asleep in the dining booth in hopes that I can avoid their fury until the morning — but Graywater approaches me with two cups of tea in hand, an unreadable expression on her face.

She slides over one cup to me — if the scalding temperature of the tea is intentional, she makes no obvious show of it.

“Look,” she begins with an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re only doing your job here. And we did agree to this article, so I’m sorry if things got a little tense back there.” She pauses, as if considering her next words carefully. “We’ve all lived moments in our lives that we’re not proud of. Tyril’s had to live his in front of the public eye. He’ll talk about it when he feels ready to... but his past doesn’t define him, none of ours do.”

I nod, understanding that this is the last we’ll speak of the subject. She smiles as if in truce, telling me that I don’t have to banish myself to the dining booth and that no one will pull any pranks on me if I sleep in the shared bedroom.

I barely catch any sleep anyway.

There’s a ferocity in the way they protect each other that I didn’t notice at first — it could be subtle sometimes, like in the way Volari always checks in with each of the band members every night before going to bed (even though Starfury usually brushes him off); or in the way Imtura always makes sure every one stays hydrated (feel free to interpret that however you wish, whichever way is true); or in the way Ellarious always has some form of baked good running in the oven, more often someone else’s favorite rather than her own.

(I learn the hard way that no one is allowed to get in between Imtura and her cupcakes. No one.)

It’s also plain as day whenever they’re on stage together, their set list a carefully curated show that highlights each member’s strengths without anyone getting overworked. Everyone’s always quick to catch each other whenever they hit snags along the road — there’s a moment in one of the shows when Volari’s mic suddenly gets cut off and Starfury swoops in without missing a beat, a small nod of the former’s head seemingly the only cue he needs, the trust between them implicit.

When I had asked earlier why he’d joined BLADES, Starfury simply shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

“It was by accident. I happened to be at one of their shows and they needed a bass player. We kind of just… worked and we’ve played together ever since.”

But this kind of chemistry doesn’t just happen by accident. No, this is the product of months and months of hard work, of opinions clashing and arguments spanning days before sitting down and realizing it’s not impossible to see eye to eye; it’s battles won and battles lost together, respect earned and trust merited.

To call them just another band seems too small a word almost. Insufficient.

They’re kind of like a family.

(If your typical family involved regular knife and axe-throwing contests, that is.

... it’s best not to ask.)

Tensions are high backstage at Deadwood Festival Grounds.

Volari has been pacing around non-stop. Ellarious looks like she’s using every bit of her willpower not to bite her fingernails. Imtura keeps violently tapping her drumsticks together. Starfury’s got his arms crossed in a corner, brows furrowed.

Graywater is doing a handstand for no apparent reason.

The anxiety is understandable — tonight’s a crucial moment for the band.

With only one more show before the grand finale at Whitetower Stadium, all the bands are doing their best to retain the crowd’s favor, each playing well-established fan favorites, saving the riskier song choices for the finale.

That is, everyone except BLADES.

They’re planning to debut two new songs tonight, both of which written solely by Starfury.

It’s a ballsy move on its own — no one’s exactly itching to drop the ball on their fans this close to the end — but add in the fact that Starfury hasn’t released any solo-written music since the Duskraven fallout and you’ve got the makings of a battle that could either go incredibly right or disastrously wrong.

Let’s back up a bit.

After the Duskraven breakup, Starfury had gone into something of a hiatus (if that’s what you call disappearing off the face of the entertainment industry) before dropping the 13-track self-written album, “Honor,” without prior notice or promotion. Fans were ecstatic to hear from him after his sudden break, but critics were less enthused, calling the album ‘a brash, arrogant attempt at flipping the metaphorical finger at Duskraven that ultimately falls short’, noting the clear absence of Duskraven’s touch in his music — all technicality, no soul.

Starfury’s penned a couple of songs with BLADES since, spanning genres as colorful and diverse as its writers, but there hasn’t been a solo venture since Honor, leaving long-time Starfury fans anxious to hear him take lead again.

Graywater calls everyone into a circle, locking eyes with Starfury as she gives his hand a squeeze.

She makes a speech that I‘m not privy to — but everyone is visibly more resolute after she speaks, each raising their fists to meet in the middle of the circle.

“I’m honored to be on this journey with you all,” I hear Starfury share, a glittering smile spreading on Volari’s lips at the statement.

“I knew you liked us!” he says, crossing the circle to throw an arm around Starfury’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Group hug!” Ellarious laughs and Imtura closes the circle into a solid embrace.

Starfury appears to be in shock — as if this is the first time this has happened — but he recovers quickly, a quietly contented smile on his face.

The last streaks of daylight have disappeared by the time they’re called to stage, the crowd restless from a long afternoon under the blistering heat.

Darkness has fallen.

But then the opening chords to fan-favorite “Murderous Masquerade” cut through the evening air, a flurry of flashing lights bursting through the sky, and the Deadwood comes alive.

Volari takes center stage in his flashy black and gold ensemble, working the crowd with such ease that it’s no question why he’s been dubbed the band’s de facto showman — he’s frankly just mesmerizing to watch.

Next up is “The Priestess and the Warrior,” an epic tale crammed into four and a half minutes of heart-racing drum beats — provided by the insanely talented Imtura — with a tender piano-driven bridge near the close, Ellarious’ heartbreaking vocals driving the whole thing home.

Graywater takes lead in the third number, “Flirting with Monsters,” a delicate neo R&B number that sounds nothing like the title suggests, her earnest, airy vocals lulling you into a comfortable, almost dream-like state as she entices her lover to stay.

The one thing common between the seemingly weird mishmash of genres is Starfury’s steady bassline, providing a much needed thread of cohesion to the set list. Where Volari, Imtura, Graywater, and even Ellarious tackle their music with the raw aggression of fresh blood on stage, Starfury attacks with quiet, seasoned finesse, his expertise evident in tracks like “Watch your back (or I’ll watch it for you)” and “Drakna Queen” — two unconventionally energetic numbers that would be difficult to listen to live if not for Starfury’s sure hand bringing them harmony.

“Alright, we’re gonna slow things down for a bit,” Graywater announces, eyes sparkling with excitement as she looks at Starfury. “Tyril’s got a new song and we want you guys to be the first to hear it.”

By now, I’ve seen enough of Starfury’s performances to say that he’s not a nervous performer. Even in the earlier stages of his career, there was always a quiet assuredness about him — which could have also been easily called arrogance — and while that’s still present now, there’s something different about the way he interacts with the crowd, a sense of humility present in the way he put his hands together and gives them a brief bow before he sits himself in front of the piano.

“I would like to dedicate this to a person very special to me,” he begins, his fingers gentle on the keys, a soft, lilting melody dancing in the air.

(He’s not even the least bit subtle about the way he looks at Graywater.)

“She has reminded me, time and again, that hope and love, when we allow it, can shine the brightest light in the dark.” Graywater shakes her head as if to shrug in nonchalance, but she meets his eyes dead on, her smile beaming with pride.

Turning to the crowd, Starfury adds, “I hope this gives you as much joy as you’ve given me. This one’s called ‘Kilvali.’”

For the next minute, it’s just Starfury and the piano, the world quiet as his voice fills the air. If there was ever any doubt that Starfury had lost his vocal prowess, there wouldn’t be any now. His voice is clear and strong — reaching even the farthest row of people on the music grounds — albeit with a softness now that I’ve never heard from him before, his attachment to his music feeling infinitely more personal.

“All my moments with you are worth whatever pain that came before,” he sings, his voice soaring as the rest of the band join him in the second verse. The performance is even more powerful with the added instrumentation.

Tiny cellphone flashlights illuminate the crowd as they sway their hands in time to the song, the emotion in Starfury’s voice rolling out in waves.

Twitter user @notmxwllbmnt13 sums it up nicely:

SJSKJSJSK TYRIL STARFURY KILLED ME TONIGHT!! ALL!! THE!! FEELS!!

(It really was beautiful.)

The crowd cheers as the song draws to a close, but the battle’s not over yet (as Starfury would tell me himself later) — the true test lying in whether or not his second song proves a testament to his newfound voice in songwriting… or if it’s just a one-time stroke of luck.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play you another new one,” he says and the applause is deafening when he turns over the mic to Volari, the latter pulling him into a one-armed hug before taking to the crowd.

If Duskraven’s interviews post-breakup are to be believed, Starfury has never — not once — written a song that wasn’t intended for himself. (She claimed to have co-written plenty of solos for Starfury, but he allegedly never returned the favor.) A quick glance at his repertoire would make this allegation appear true.

“It is true,” he tells me simply when I bring it up later in the tour bus. (Despite the coolness of his voice, I notice him shift a little in his seat.) “I was... unconfident, extending my words to other artists like that. I was also prideful and arrogant — afraid to face the judgment and criticism of my peers, and for that, I truly am sorry to Kaya. She deserved better from me as a partner.”

It seems Starfury has taken that incident to heart. Listening to “Purple Dreams” with Volari’s teasing falsetto on the forefront, it becomes clear that Starfury wrote this with the former’s vocals in mind, the flirtatious mix of his sassy vocal riffs and playful onstage antics giving the song a delicious, intoxicating energy.

It’s probably the most experimental I’ve heard from Starfury as a writer, both in terms of lyricism and melody.

“I’ve learned a lot this last year, creating music with BLADES,” he explains. “Not only did I find a new perspective on songwriting thanks to them, but my bandmates also gave me the courage to try things outside of my comfort zone and to allow myself to make mistakes. They inspire me.”

Years ago, he was dubbed as stiff and awkward outside of the theater stage, with Duskraven providing all the charm in their partnership, but now, on stage with BLADES — as Volari points his sultry gaze at him, singing his own lyrics to him — Starfury smirks, leaning ever so slightly against the showman as his hands tease along the guitar strings, driving the crowd wild.

It’s clear by the end of the song that Starfury has won over the crowd, and for once, he actually seems to revel in it, his smile beaming as he takes in the applause.

The rest of the band are even more thrilled for him, each leaving their posts to engulf him in another hug.

He doesn’t hesitate this time, allowing the fond gesture in front of their adoring crowd, each of them savoring the quiet moment, and I think, out of all the times I’ve seen Starfury on stage, this has to be my favorite version of him.

In the company of his friends, lifting and supporting each other, Tyril Starfury shines brighter than any star.

“We haven’t talked about what we’re doing after yet,” Starfury admits when I ask him about the future of BLADES after Morella Fest. (Each of the members are also solo artists in their own right, after all.) “But whatever happens at the end of the tour, we’ll always have each other, regardless of whether the band continues or not. I can’t imagine my life without these people now and I hope I never have to.”

He’s smiling as he says this, watching his bandmates fight over the last levenfruit before he excuses himself to join them, Graywater and Ellarious easily making space for him in the dining booth, Volari and Imtura rounding out the little world that now seems completely their own.

This article also appears in BLADES: The Most Ambitious Crossover Event in Morella Music History. You can find the full feature on www - kadethebard - com.

tagging: @sophie-summer ✨

#playchoices #blades of light and shadow #tyril starfury #tyril x mc #playchoices fanfic #reposting bc i am dumb and have a fake external link in the fic that made tumblr hidethis from the tags #bonus hc:#threep is there even tho i didnt get to include him #he’s a stray that just showed up one day and no remembers who fed him first #(it was mal)#but they keep feeding him anyway and he kind of just stays and travels with them #kade has caught each of them talking to threep (when they think no one is looking)#as if the cat could talk back #EDIT: why wont this show up in the tags im stresseddddd #my fic

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