#is a pure boy as well and I’m crying because I grew so attached. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

pink hearts

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away.

PAIRINGS. itadori jin x reader

WC. 10.7k+

NOTES. this fic is purely self indulgent, not requested, i wrote this for me so reader is mostly...well, me. okay listen I KNOW toji is the choice dilf but PLEASE daddy jin has my heart and i’m so soft for him like you guys don’t understand. this is my comfort fic now and jin’s made his way on my comfort character list, give this amazing man a chance, he’s amazing and so kind eeeee my heart is going to burst i love him so much lol + oh this is unedited as usual

masterlist !

The pink-haired man sat across from you, setting down the tray of two coffee mugs on the coffee table before you. He was of regular build, mostly on the lanky side, and his kind eyes peered behind glasses as he smiled at you. “So you’re the babysitter Mr. Gojo recommended?”

You stared at him. Shamelessly.

Suddenly, your initial plan of impressing your employer by wearing a tight pencil skirt and an old white blouse after the assumption that they would be prissy and had way too much money on their hands felt useless.

This guy wore a cream sweatshirt and black slacks, clearly happy and comfortable in his own home.

Upon being the subject of your stare, he only smiled awkwardly, clasping his hands in front of himself as he cleared his throat to let you speak.

“Oh!” you suddenly sat up straight, “Yes, yes I am. I’m sorry for staring. I just think you’d be this...young.” And modest.

“I understand. You’re in university, correct?” you nodded, leaning back in his seat, hand scratching the back of his head. His cheeks tinged a slight pink. “And you’re a close friend of Satoru’s, well...It’s not that I don’t trust his judgment or anything, but it’s my first time being a parent – and I’m a single dad, at that – so I hope you don’t mind that I’d like to see how you get along with my son first before I hire you.”

“Oh yeah, no, that’s perfectly fine!”

Satisfied with your answer, Mr. Itadori stood up with a bow, silently gesturing you to follow him down his hall. “Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with, or anything you don’t know much about? Changing diapers, giving the teething products, anything?”

“I’m the eldest in the family, four more hellish sun drops following afterwards. I think I’m good.”

He nodded at your answer, a small smile on his face. “That’s good to know. My last babysitter was the same age as you, but he didn’t know much about handling babies. I mean, neither do I, but a man’s got to learn, you know?” he laughed at himself, unaware that with each passing second, pink heart eyes gazed up at him admirably.

When you both reached a door that was left slighty open, Mr. Itadori lit up, bending down in front of a crib where his baby laid, small hands clutching at his feet. “Yuuji, baby, Daddy’s here. Are you ready to meet your babysitter?”

Your jaw dropped when he finally picked his baby up, the little boy clad in a tiger onesie and sucking on a toy. “Oh my gosh, you’re so adorable, come here!” you were more than glad when his dad laughed and gently passed the baby to you, who only gurgled in laughter when you cooed at him. “Oh, I want to spoil you and give you kisses, how are you this cute?” Well, it made sense he was cute, since his dad was as well. Yuuji made grabby hands at you, to which you happily obliged, leaning down so his tiny fingers could pinck your cheeks.

Unable to help it, you rubbed your cheeks on his touch, making the little boy clap his feet together, eyes bright with all the happiness and innocence in this world. You honestly wanted to cry right then and there.

“Your hands are soooo tiny, my goodness, I love you already! It’s so nice to meet you, Yuuji, you’re such an angel!”

“You like kids, huh?”

“Well, not so much with kids because toddlers have too much energy, but babies,” you gasped once you heard Mr. Itadori’s muffled laughter, greeted by the sight of him hiding his mouth behind his palm. Instantly, you smiled at him nervously, clutching the baby closer to yourself because he was so darn cute.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry if I’m being weird right now, I can’t help it! Your son is so precious!”

“Thank you. He’s the greatest blessing of my life too,” he beamed, turning to his baby with that soft look in his eyes that parents wore so well. “Well, it seems Yuuji really likes you. He’s friendly to everyone but...I’m surprised he’s warmed up to you this fast,” Mr. Itadori bent over to poke his cheek, the baby’s tiny hand wrapping around his dad’s finger. “Yuuji~ don’t forget I’m still your dad, okay? She’s the babysitter – she’s not your mom so don’t be too clingy, alright?”

You stiffened at his words, your eyes flickering back and forth between the baby and him. They had the same eye and hair colour, along with that aura of kindness surrounding them...it was hard to imagine what the mother would be like. Was she as bright and adorable too?

If yes, then this was an entire family of pink hearted strawberries!

“If...if it’s not too much to ask, may I ask where his mom is?”

Much to your surprise, his eyes grew forlorn, though the smile remained on his face. “His mom...is in a much happier place now,” was all he said – and it was enough – that you couldn’t dare ask more.

Mr. Itadori walked out of Yuuji’s room and into the kitchen afterwards, eyes squinting over the neat handwriting on a sticky note on his refrigerator. “Okay, so, I don’t know if Satoru’s told you, but I’m an engineer. I usually just work from home, especially now that I’ve got a baby, but there are still days where I have to go the office for presentations and meetings. I can’t guarantee that the babysitting schedule will be permanent – is it alright if I call you whenever?”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean, other than university, I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“That’s good to hear! But wouldn’t this job get in the way of your studies?”

You shook your head, subconsciously pressing closer to the baby instead because he was just so warm and wouldn’t stop tugging at your collar. A part of you was also eager to get this job not only for the baby, but Mr. Itadori intrigued you as well. You knew it was wrong but you had to be honest with yourself, hiding this truth for him instead through a shaky smile.

“No, definitely not! I can just take my studies here – if you won’t mind, of course – and I promise I won’t litter or make a mess or anything. During babysitting hours, Yuuji will be more of a priority than my homework, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

Mr. Itadori hummed to himself, rubbing at his chin. “If that’s the case, then I suppose you’re free to use the study at the end of the hall. There’s a baby camera there that lets you see Yuuji in every room, but if he’s asleep, feel free to use it.”

“Oh wow,” you blinked back in surprise, gently rocking a gurgling Yuuji back and forth. “You didn’t have to do that so uhm, thank you, really, I promise I’ll take care of your son very well!”

“I can see why Satoru recommended you now,” he shook his head with a smile, moving over to the litter of dinosaur stickers onto another list. “Here is a list of the things Yuuji likes and doesn’t like. He’s mostly active in the afternoons when I’ll most likely get called for work, and he’s a mess by then. He really likes playing and cuddles, and he’ll also demand to be carried most of the time otherwise he’ll cry,” he paused as his eyes slid over to you, lips pursed in thought. “I know you’ll do great but...don’t spoil my son too much, okay? I just don’t want him to uh...think that you’re his parent or something. Yuuji gets easily attached like that. If he calls you ‘mama’...please tell me about it, okay?”

“Yes, of course. I know my place, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he raised in hands in surrender as he saw your eyes widen with fear. “Being a single parent is just hard, you know? I can’t help but always feel that maybe I won’t be enough for him, and as much as I can, I’d like to let my son he can rely on me at all times.”

“I think you’re a very great father,” you admitted rather shyly, “Your son is really lucky to have you as his parent. I can tell he’s going to be such a sweetheart.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” he placed a hand over his heart, then pulled out a business card from the back of his pocket. “Now, here’s my number and my work schedules. You don’t have to drop by during weekends since I’m always here, but I might need you every Wednesdays to Fridays. Can I have your class schedule as well? That way I know when’s the right time to text you if I need something,” Reaching into your bag that had a copy of your schedule, you handed it to him, the strawberry-haired man’s lips growing into a smile as he read over the content. “Well, what do you know? You study engineering too? Computer engineering?”

You winced, memories you’d rather not think of again resurfacing. “Please don’t call me a nerd. I’ve heard that enough already.”

“What’s wrong about being a nerd? I’ve always been a nerd too and I think I’m fine,” you swapped numbers after that, not even giving you enough time to recover from his comment. Not that being a nerd was a huge deal, but people always said it weirdly that you dreaded hat word. Hearing it from him though...it felt like a compliment. “Guess that settles it then. I’ll see you soon?”

Heart elated and spirits soaring into the sky that you actually got the job and the employer was a kind man, you nodded with a bright smile on your face. “Yeah, I’ll come by next week! Thank you so much for trusting me!”

“No, thank you for your service,” he responded back shyly, waving to you as you walked out the door. Not a few moments later, Mr. Itadori ran after you, his cheeks flushed pink from the shrot run. “Wait! Can I have my son back?”

Looking down at the baby in your arms who was too busy sucking on his thumb, your cheeks heated, extending your arms as gentle as you could while Mr. Itadori got his son back. He only laughed at your state, waving it off with a shake of his head. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It just feels so natural to hold him!”

“You’ll be a good mother someday,” he commented almost absentmindedly. Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop bowing and apologizing with each step backwards, too distracted to notice that your heels dug into a small crack. You yelped as you felt the floor slip beneath you, Mr. Itadori’s instincts kicking in when he easily grabbed your wrist to pull you towards him, your foreheads almost knocking one another’s. “Whoa – watch your step. You could’ve fallen seriously there.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Itadori! I’ll try to be more graceful next time,” you bowed repeatedly, still so ashamed as you tugged your skirt down. “Why the hell did I wear heels anyway? It’s not like this is a law firm.”

“Please,” he smiled at you – and you swore in that moment that things were just going to be different – eyes closed and his whole face lit with light heartedness. “Call me Jin,” taking his son’s hands up, he waved the little arm as you walked out the door, still in a light trance of disbelief. “Say bye-bye, Yuuji!”

Even as you made it back to your bus stop, you still couldn’t get your mind off of the strawberry-haired father and son duo. Their home was just so...bright, you immediately felt safe and comfortable.

As your heart fluttered at the memory of Jin smiling at you, you placed a palm over your heart, willing it to calm down. That couldn’t be good, right?

“Earth to Y/N!”

You snapped back to life when your friend slapped you on the arm, smiling at her when she only huffed at your dazed out self again. It wasn’t irregular for you to space out like this, and you were more than thankful she was always there to bring you back to reality before you accidentally crossed a street when the lights were green or something.

“Sorry, what?”

“Do you know how many times we had to drag you away because you keep running into poles?” she rolled her eyes, “Sheesh, how would you survive without us? What are you spacing out for anyway?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking about work and all.”

“Speaking of that, how’d the interview go? Was your employer as strict and condescending as the Zenins? The hell happened to those bastards anyway?” “I bet their child is going to grow up sexist or something.”

At the mention of Jin and his baby, your whole self lit up. “My employer is better this time around. He’s only a few years older than us; like five or seven, I think? He’s really nice too and dude, his baby is so. Freaking. Adorable,” you gushed, mimicking the gesture of rocking a baby around with your arms, eyes filled with heart-shaped characters. “Like a freaking strawberry in my arms! He’s so sweet too!”

“You and your attachment to babies,” she scrunched her nose in disgust – always having had an aversion to anyone younger than her. “I’ll never get it.”

“Babies are the best!”

“Yeah, until they drool and throw up on you,” as if the image procured in her mind, your friend shuddered, rubbing her hands up and down her arm to relieve her goosebumps. “I never want to be a mom.”

“You’ll change your mind once you fall in love with someone who’s amazing enough to make you want to have a family on your own.”

“You talk about that as if you’ve met that someone already!”

“Maybe I have,” you giggled stupidly to yourself. Of course you weren’t thinking about Jin – you just knew deep in your heart you always wanted your own family. Growing up from a large family and getting separated from them, it was uncomfortable to not be surrounded by crying and squealing, which was always accompanied with laughter and kisses at the end of the day. Now who wouldn’t want that? You waved your hand to your friend, trying to hide the apparent gushing behind your voice. “I’m just kidding. I just really love babies.”

“Whatever,” she closed the topic, and you didn’t protest, knowing full well your friend cringed at the mention of babies or children. “So are you coming to our study group tonight?”

“Can’t. Got work,” you shrugged, a light skip in your steps as you both walked to the campus. Thankfully, she mistook your enthusiasm with the excitement of getting to hang out with babies again, which was true, but something about meeting Jin again and possibly getting to know more about the sweet father was a huge cherry on top – one your friend didn’t have to know about.

“Shame. I heard that hot guy from Biology was coming too.”

“Fushiguro Toji? Wasn’t he scouted for the military?”

“Honestly, I’m more surprised he’s not a gangster,” she snorted, “But whatever. Text me when you get home safely, okay? If you don’t text within—”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Text you when I get on the bus stop, text you when I arrive at work, when I leave and when I’ve gotten home otherwise you’re calling the cops to report me missing or abused,” you stood up straight for a mock salute, brows furrowed in faux seriousness. “I know, ma’am. That’s drilled in my head already.”

“I’m serious. The world is a dangerous place!”

“Yes, I’ll text you!”

Wednesdays couldn’t come sooner. But when it did, you were far too excited. You’d never tell anyone you took the extra time to fix your hair and spritz on just a tinge of perfume, not wanting to overwhelm the baby.

You shot up from your seat right after class ended, hair flying in the wind as you bolted to the bus stop. Wiping away the sweat on your forehead and fixing your clothes with a pat of your hand, you took a deep breath, chanting inner mantras that today would be a good at work. You’d be contributing to society by caring for a child that would soon be the light of the future, and you were more than honoured. Clearing your throat, you pressed on the bell, humming to yourself as you heard the light patters of footsteps inside.

“Hey, you’re here!” Jin smiled at you, one you reciprocated wholeheartedly, and he opened the door wider while you took off your shoes.

He was still dressed in his sweatpants and a white shirt, looking utterly domestic and different from your previous employers that would glare at you if you touched their kid without sanitizing your hand twice first. Jin was like a breath of fresh air to you – one you breathed in with glee while you followed him inside.

His house was kept neat and clean, surprising you even more at just how immaculate to detail he could be despite his busy schedule. Was it because he was an adult or a parent now that people his age were just more organized and put together?

Whatever it was, you trailed around Jin like a puppy, eager to learn from his ways.

“I told myself I’d only ask you to come around if I’m away for work but I’m working on a huge project and my client is very demanding. He’s asking me to pass it this week already and he just sent me his plans last night.”

“It’s okay...Jin,” you stuttered over calling him by his first name like that, “You can focus on your work. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Thank you! Yuuji’s in his room, by the way. He’s just had dinner so he’s still energetic – you can pull up the cartoons and lounge in the living room. He’ll be fine,” he opened his mouth to say something else when his gaze darted to your book bag, eyes widening. “Oh wait, you brought your schoolwork—”

“I’m good! I’ve already finished them during my spare time! I promise you really don’t have anything to worry about!”

“Oh, that’s cool, I guess,” he calmed down at your words, scratching the back of his ear before gesturing to his door. “Well, I’ll be in my room if you need me. I get really occupied and focused though, so just open the door if I don’t open it right away.”

“Noted,” You wasted no time in picking up Yuuji from his crib afterwards. It seemed the little man didn’t quite like being imprisoned like that because he was babbling nonsensically, fists banging on the edges.

Upon seeing you enter his room, Yuuji’s babbles got louder, small chubby arms reaching out to your extended ones. His pacifier fell inside his crib as he pouted at you, and how could you resist? Soon, you were happily nestled onto the couch on the living room, his favourite cartoons playing on the background.

His head swayed side to side as the songs came along, while you watched him with tiny giggles. You wondered if maybe your first day at work would be eventless like this.

You really thought you’d run back and forth doing errands and changing diapers, but that was your old babysitting experience – things were obviously different with Jin and his son.

Yuuji was quiet, but Jin was right, he was clingy. Not an hour later into the show, he crawled to your sides and settled into your lap, tiny hands grabbing at your shirt. He sighed as his cheeks rested on your chest, though his eyes still glossed over the cartoon. You felt like your heart would burst at his affection, and you patted his back gently to lull him to sleep.

Eventually, Yuuji fell asleep. You hadn’t even noticed it was dark out already, the cartoons only playing through loop.

You scooped up Yuuji closer to your arms before shutting the TV off, making sure to be as quiet as you could be while you placed him back on his crib. Smiling at the angel, you patted his hair before leaving the room, knocking on Jin’s door at the end of the hallway instead.

When he didn’t respond after four knocks, you thought he’d fallen asleep until you remembered his note.

Shakily, you twisted the knob open, a small smile on your face when you saw him furiously sketching something on his paper. An empty cup of coffee laid beside his table, eraser shavings everywhere. His room smelled like soft laundry detergent with the faint aroma of white caramel coffee – smooth and sweet like him – and it felt almost wrong to be in such a space that was clearly so intimate of him.

Not wanting to disturb too much, you cleared you peered from behind the door sheepishly. “...Jin? Oh. Hello.”

“Hey,” he blinked at you then rubbed his eyes, staring at you for a solid minute before his mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape. “Is everything okay? Yuuji didn’t destroy something, did he?”

“No, he’s fast asleep. I just came here to say I’ll be going home now. It’s past midnight already.”

“It’s that late?” Jin glanced at his wristwatch and adjusted his glasses, fingers swiping up to retrieve his keys as he wore his coat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you stay this late, and you have school tomorrow too,” he groaned tiredly, though the apologetic smile on his face easily concealed his exhaustion. “I’m really sorry I lost track of time. Come, I’ll drive you home, it’s not safe this dark out.”

“But Jin,” you froze in his hallway, “What about Yuuji?”

“Do you live far from here?”

“No, the dorms are like five minutes away,” Jin pondered about this information, possibly hesitating that maybe it wasn’t his best to leave his son alone. You appreciated the thought, you really did, but you were worried for Yuuji too so you smiled at him, nodding to assure that he didn’t have to. “Jin, it’s okay, I can just take the bus. I’ve been doing that for a long time now and I’m really okay.”

Jin clutched at his keys, the frown on his face evident. “At least let me walk you to the bus stop? So I know you’re safe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, I guess.”

“Let me just get extra covers for Yuuji. It might be cold tonight,” You waited until he came out with Yuuji warmly bundled up in his arms. The two of you walked side by side, baby Yuuji fast asleep in his arms with his head covered in a small cap. You blushed at the thought that maybe people would think you looked like a family, but before these foolish imaginations could consume you, Jin beat you to it. “I haven’t thanked you properly for today, by the way. Let me make it up to you sometime – you look really tired.”

You flushed deep at his words, shaking your hands in front of you. “Oh no, it’s fine, really! I’m just doing my job.”

“Yes, but caring for someone else’s child – whether you’re paid or not – is still a very selfless act and I can’t thank you enough for it.”

You looked away from how warm his smile was despite the biting chill of the night, turning away to bury your chin in your neck instead. “You really don’t have to do anything. I’m just happy to help.”

“If you insist then,” Jin waved at you as much as he could without waking his son up as you hopped onto the bus, with you watching from the inside. “Get home safely! Text me when you’re home!”

“I will,” you mouthed through the window.

Jin and Yuuji disappeared from your sight after that. All the way back home, the warmth and butterflies swarming your stomach wouldn’t disappear. Even as you flopped on your bed, you still kept tossing and turning, the bright light of your screen glaring at you to just send the darned text already.

Hey...or maybe hello? He’s older though... How do older people even text each other? He wasn’t that much older, but still...it kind of felt inappropriate to address him too casually.

Deciding to just screw it, you pressed backspace and settled for the most boring text, hitting send and flattening on the bed with a groan. Who knew texting someone could be that mind-boggling? Sweat beaded at your forehead as you stared at the plain I’m home, sleep about to take over when your phone buzzed afterwards.

I’m glad to know you’re safe. Sleep well, Y/N.

Looking over at your slumbering roommate, you grabbed a pillow to bite it and muffle your screams, legs flailing beneath you as you read his text over and over again. It wasn’t even that special, but Jin had wished you well – the hardworking and sweet Jin – sending your heart into overdrive.

Your roommate didn’t stir one bit even as you giggled to yourself, punching the bed while you replayed the image of his smile, the feeling of how warm he was walking close to you like that and the sound of his soothing voice that just messed with you on the insides.

God, you had it bad – and yet, why did it feel so good?

Babysitting had never been more fun. Even though the task was no longer new for you, you looked forward to working every single day. Your friends noticed your change in moods, but just downed it to the fact you were generally a cheerful person anyway and didn’t bother asking why, which you were thankful for because it wasn’t easy to admit it out loud you liked Itadori Jin, of all people.

Now that you looked back onto it, he wasn’t that special.

He was definitely the type of guy you easily overlooked in a train, but he would also be the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to give up his seat for someone else. It wasn’t like he was utterly interesting too since like you, his life was a bland routine of taking care of babies, working, holing up in his room to create something, drinking coffee as sweet and light as possible, then calling it a day and sleeping with a huge smile on their face, just thankful for another day.

Yes, he was simple. Yes, he might even be boring, but gosh, you had never liked someone so much.

You summed it down to him being kind and loving. Yes, that was all it was. While your friends flocked over to mysterious, dark guys like Fushiguro Toji and his friends, gossiping non-stop on how he supposedly had a hotter younger relative but were a lot shittier than he was, you were different. You were simple.

You liked soft, quiet guys who enjoyed the soft pit-patters of rain, the types of people who spent too much time in the library travelling across galaxies in their seat, and overall, you liked peaceful souls.

Jin was everything you ever admired – stable, simple, kind, affectionate. It was clear from how he was never shy to shower his baby with kisses and feed him with airplane spoons, using a small voice to baby talk his son. Every time you came around, you immediately felt welcomed into their happy home despite the lack of a maternal figure, and you found yourself wanting to be there a lot more often than you should.

It seemed that the heaven heard your prayers when your phone rang. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed at your blaring phone, eyes wide when you read the contact name.

“Hello? Jin, what’s wrong?” Yuuji was crying in the background, accompanied with his father’s constant shushing and worried cooing.

“H-hi, I’m really sorry to bother you, I know it’s late, it’s just Yuuji won’t stop crying and my neighbours are mad at me because I can’t get him to calm down,” as if on cue, Yuuji only wailed louder. You could hear Jin’s desperate pleas for him to quiet down a little, with you dashing out of your bed and slinging your arms inside your coat. “Could you please come over? I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m on my way,” was all you said before hanging up. Minutes later, you’d entered their apartment thanks to the spare key Jin gave you, heart breaking as Yuuji’s wailings only got louder.

Jin’s shoulders visibly relaxed when you scooped his son into your arms, rocking back and forth as you pressed a palm flat on his forehead. He didn’t seem to be feverish or even warmer than usual, but he was definitely irritated, pushing away at your hands that laid on him.

“Yuuji, baby! What’s wrong, sweetheart? Something hurt anywhere?” you turned to Jin, “Is his diaper full?”

“I just checked, he didn’t poop,” Jin nibbled at his thumbnails, a quirk you didn’t expect he’d have with his seemingly put-together composed self. His son’s crying must’ve really bothered him because Jin wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, Yuuji’s newly cleaned pacifier clenched between his fingers. “I gave him the teething rings too but he just dumped them to the side.”

Nodding, you tried poking at Yuuji’s stomach. The baby belly that should’ve been squishy was firm against your finger, the imaginary light bulb in your head going off.

“His stomach is a little tight. I think he’s got gas,” you informed Jin with a relieved smile, glad that it wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. “We need to make him burp,” Patting at Yuuji’s back while Jin gently massaged Yuuji’s belly, prompting the boy to wail louder with his tiny arms banging both your chest, a big burp was finally released.

“Oh my gosh, he’s still crying.”

“It’s okay, Jin, he’ll be fine,” you reassured, smiling wide at baby Yuuji even though he couldn’t focus on you. “That’s right, sweetheart, you’re doing great. Just burp a little more and it won’t hurt so bad. It’s just gas, sweetie, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“B-but the neighbours...”

“Don’t mind them,” You didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh, but who could blame you? Yuuji was clearly in distress; the last thing you cared about was pleasing others. “They can plug in earbuds for all I care. Yuuji needs help,” at your words, Jin swallowed, resuming his ministrations of encouraging his son to burp.

Yuuji stilled for a moment before he resumed his crying. This time around, Jin was a lot calmer and focused as his hands rubbed at his son’s stomach. The burps came constant afterwards until Yuuji had enough, turning away from his father and burying his head on your chest. Small hiccups followed, but he’d calmed down, eyes shut tight from the previous discomfort.

“Are you feeling better now, baby? Tummy ache is gone?”

“He’s...not crying anymore...” Jin murmured in disbelief, his hands hovering above Yuuji’s belly.

“He’s still really red, though,” you frowned, hands brushing his bangs away from his forehead. It didn’t take long before Yuuji settled in, thumbs sucked into his mouth. Little whimpers could still be heard from the little guy, though nothing serious happened. You and Jin both sighed in relief. “I think he’s tired from crying. I’m going to go rock him for a bit,” Eyes flitting over to Jin’s face rigged with dark circles, you mustered a chuckle. “How about you, are you okay? You look half-dead,” you joked.

“He was in the crib next to me when he just started wailing out of nowhere,” Jin plopped down onto the sofa, his sweatshirt crinkled and sweatpants loose and comfortable as ever. “I was so scared that maybe something else was wrong.”

“Parenting is both a blessing and a hardship, huh?” you chided in, “Don’t worry. I still think you’re doing an amazing job at being a dad.”

“You’re quite amazing too. You’re a natural at this.”

You shrugged, unable to look Jin in the eye as you continued gently swaying side to side while Yuuji slept in your arms. “My parents were rarely around. They were too busy working to provide for all of us so I acted as the parental figure instead.”

“Your parents are really lucky to have you as a child – reliable and strong.”

“All I ever wanted was to make them proud,” you told him, looking far from the distance as you reminisced your old memories with your family. It felt so far away already – they felt far away – though you knew the love you had for one another still remained. “And I live a good life knowing they passed with no worries. My siblings are doing great, too, though we’ve all parted ways now. Some of them got adopted by our relatives and I’m...I’m here I guess.”

“I’m extremely sorry for your loss,” Jin’s voice was quiet, and when you looked back at him, you saw him smiling into his hands before turning to you, wearing that damned smile that always had your heart doing backflips. “You’re a really strong person, you know?”

Your cheeks flushed at his words. “Thank you. I think it’s all thanks to my parents,” you murmured; that slight pang of pain remained even after their death, though it wasn’t as awful as it used to be. The sting felt a lot calmer now, almost as if time slowly healed your heart back together. “After they passed from the car crash, I just knew I had to be strong for all of us. The pain and the hardship were worth the effort, though. All of us are happy and settled now.”

“That’s the one thing I’m most afraid of,” he confessed, frowning at the peaceful baby in your arms. “That I’ll have to leave my child before he’s ready to face the world by himself. I’m not...I could never be prepared for that.”

“As long as he knows you love him and you always will, I think Yuuji will always find his way in life,” Jin’s eyes widened, something unreadable glimmering behind those pretty eyes that had you feeling too many things all at once. Embarrassment and sudden shyness creeped all the way up to your spine along with exhaustion, and you gestured for him to move aside, heaving as you sat down next to him. “I’m really sleepy.”

“Please, let me hold – oh. He likes you more, I guess.”

You chuckled at his dejected face, the childish pout the exact replication of Yuuji’s. Yuuji refused to be held by his dad, burrowing himself into your warmth instead. “I’ve got a charm when it comes to children.”

“That you do,” he agreed absentmindedly.

Before any of you could realize what was going on, you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Yuuji was still safely nestled between your arms, while Jin’s head was tucked in your shoulder, soft breaths leaving those equally soft lips.

Oddly enough, when you woke up and noticed your current position, none of you found it weird. Jin only laughed at the way drool dried up at the end of your lips, to which you silently scolded him for as to not rouse Yuuji from his sleep. He didn’t move away from his position, eyes flicking over from yours to his son bundled up warmly, a smile tugging up at the ends of his lips.

“Uh... that was a long night.”

“Long night, indeed,” Jin nodded before standing up to stretch, exposing a sliver of smooth skin that made heat rush up to your face. You immediately looked away, heart pounding in your chest as Jin began to rummage through his kitchen. “It’s a Saturday so if you’re free...do you want to stay over for breakfast?”

Something about that night kicked off the start of your...budding friendship with Jin. Yes, that’s exactly what it was, just friendship.

You knew there was no way he could ever see you the way you looked at him; not that you minded. Being in their presence and having Yuuji around was already a blessing itself, the days progressively getting better the more you worked for him.

It had become a routine that Jin would come home, exhaustion lining his eyes before he caught sight of you standing in the living room, reading books out loud while you carried a babbling Yuuji. You would laugh because it felt like Yuuji was trying to have conversation with you, to which you responded with reading terms even you had difficulty pronouncing. He’d only nod and keep saying nonsense, grubby hands reaching for the book you held.

He was so precious that you leaned down to kiss the top of his head every now and then, giggles pouring out from the tiny baby strawberry.

Jin took off his shoes, the happiness bursting through his chest unexplainable upon seeing that his son was happy and safe. Loosening the tie with one hand, he extended his arms wide open, running into your direction. “I’m home!”

“Yuuji, Daddy’s here!”

“How’s my sweet little boy doing?” The smile on Jin’s face was phenomenal and even dramatic as his son finally reached out to him, the babbles only getting louder as his dad peppered his cheeks with kisses. Yuuji still wanted to stay in your arms though, and Jin sighed when his son’s hands went back to grabbing at your book, though the chuckles he let out told you he wasn’t really dismayed about it. “Thank you for looking out for him again. Isn’t your arm tired from carrying him and studying like that?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve got really strong muscles,” you flexed your bicep, “Plus, it’s so comforting to carry an angel like Yuuji around. I feel like I’m going to pass my exams with ease!”

Not a moment later, you dropped your arm and turned away to hide your frown, brows pinched together. Jin, being the ever observant person he was, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle and warm as he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Well,” you began, “I couldn’t understand something and I’ve been going at it for days. Nothing makes sense to me,” with the effort of only one free hand, you flipped to the middle of the book. A headache began to form the moment you read the chapter title, making you cringe while Jin leaned closer for a better look at its contents. “Look at this chapter here. It’s so confusing!”

“Oh, I know this!” he pushed his glasses back up to his nose, grinning as he pulled out a chair before gesturing you to do so. “Okay, so this means...”

Not even in your craziest dreams had you imagined you’d be sitting at Jin’s table like this, your legs touching from the lack of space as he rambled on excitedly about the lesson.

He would have animated gestures to explain the dynamics of this and that, both you and Yuuji staring at him in awe as he broke the chapter down into easier parts. It was still difficult to understand since your attention was mostly on the way his eyes brightened the more he talked about his passion for the subject, not to mention that Yuuji was also grabbing at both your faces.

It made you both laugh, the two of you simultaneously bending down to kiss either sides of his cheeks until Yuuji was squished between the both of you.

You laughed with Jin the moment you made awkward eye contact through the kiss, chests bursting with laughter before he proceeded back to the lesson. With each passing second, you were beginning to fall for him a lot more and on a deeper level – so much so that you told yourself you should be scared. Instead, your heart felt at home, calm and peaceful, almost as if it knew you were safe and welcomed.

This sudden revelation had you looking at him in an entirely different light. Jin looked...the same, but somehow warmer? Like he was bathed in a soft glow, the edges pink like his hair, and your hair melted at each and every word that poured from his lips.

When you excused yourself to go to the restroom, you were greeted by the sight of a nearly passed out Jin on the couch, baby Yuuji asleep on his arms.

Jin must be really tired from work. He hadn’t even changed out of clothes. It was getting late too – you needed to come back home soon.

“Jin. Jin, wake up.”

“Huh?” his eyes snapped open, arms instinctively tightening around Yuuji’s before he relaxed, smiling stupidly as he leaned back on his seat. “Oh, it’s you. Hi.”

“Hi,” you echoed, nails digging into your palm to resist the urge to wrap him in a hug; he looked like he needed it. Hands held out in front of you, you took Yuuji from him, slightly nudging his knee with yours. “I’ll take Yuuji to bed. You should go freshen up,” Jin groaned in agreement as he ran his hands through his hair, muttering something about being a parent meant not getting to sleep well. You chuckled at his statement, already moving to get the cups out from the pantry. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great, thank you.”

Jin disappeared into his room while you tucked Yuuji into bed, the both of you meeting later in the kitchen. He still looked terribly tired, though his smile was lively as ever when he joined you at the table. “Long day again?”

“It’s always a long day,” he confessed through a sip, “But all my worries wash away when I get to see how happy and healthy my son is. I’d work day and night just to provide a good life for him.”

“Don’t forget to spend time with him too, okay? Using the present to ensure your son’s future in exchange of not watching them grow up isn’t worth it,” you reminded him, slightly referring to how much you regretted not getting to be with your parents much until you completely lost the opportunity to do so again. Jin easily read your eyes, fingers grazing the edges of his cup as you continued, “He’s growing day by day. Promise me you’ll always be there for him, okay?”

“I promise,” though whispered, you heard it loud and clear, and you knew without a doubt he’d keep to his words.

After Jin washed his cup, you gathered your things and allowed him to walk you all the way to his apartment’s entrance, waving softly at you. “Get home safely, Y/N. Text me when you’re home.”

It was the perfect routine: go to school, go to work, fall in love with Jin and his son a lot more than you should be, and go home with his kind smile as the last thing you saw.

Each night before sleep completely overtook you, your phone would vibrate, the name of the man who had completely smitten your heart appearing and washing away all the previous tiredness you both accumulated through the day.

Good night, Jin. Rest well.

You too.

It was a routine you’d never get tired of.

“Jin? Yuuji?” you gasped as Yuuji greeted you with bubbling laughter, his small arms slapping your cheeks while his dad giggled behind him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Happy Birthday!” Jin greeted and finally showed his face after hiding from Yuuji’s buttocks. Your heart absolutely soared at the sight of the father and son duo wearing matching pink clothes, both of their bright smiles only adding to the warmth of the special day. No, actually, it became special because of them – the two people you adored most in this world. “Satoru texted me it was your birthday and it’s my day off too so I thought I’d drop by!”

Before you could respond, Jin huddled Yuuji closer to him, blinking at the audience you both managed to gather. “I forgot you lived at a dorm, though...is it normal that people are looking us?”

“No, it’s not. They probably think I’m a young mom or something,” you flushed beet red at his words, silently glaring at the nosy onlookers whispering behind their backs. It wasn’t that you were ashamed people could assume that about you, it was just ironic since you actually wanted that to be real but it was embarrassing because you knew Jin wouldn’t see you that way. “Can you give me a few minutes to get ready? We should go somewhere else.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you downstairs.”

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. Brushing your teeth, showering, and getting dressed in your best clothing were all achieved in the span of ten minutes. You felt proud of yourself as you hopped the stairs two steps down at a time, hair flying from behind you. It was clear you were too excited, but could anyone blame you? You never cared about your birthday, but Jin and Yuuji were here! Of course this was going to be a special day.

You froze at the end of the stairs, the drumming of your heart too wild to tame. Jin was blowing kisses into Yuuji’s belly, the baby’s gleeful laughter painting the walls.

He must’ve felt your stare burning holes at the back of his head because Jin turned your way, Yuuji pressed into his chest as he walked towards you. You were once again blown away by his sweet scent, a mix of gentle laundry detergent and something was just so Jin.

“Hey there,” he smiled, knocking the wind out of your lungs with just two words. “I didn’t have anything cool planned for today since I wasn’t prepared but I know this nice restaurant you might really like. It’s going to be my treat!”

“Oh thanks, but my friends already fed me enough with pizza and cake. Is it okay if we just take a walk around somewhere?”

“Yeah, of course!” Grabbing his arm to pull him away from prying eyes, you walked out of the campus, extending your arms to celebrate your freedom once the warm sunshine kissed at your skin, the cool wind soothing you afterwards. Jin laughed at your carefree expression, watching as you twirled and danced a little at the peace provided to you by the park. “Happy Birthday again! So how’s it feel like being a year older?”

“I feel like nothing’s changed, but at the same time nothing is the same too,” you told him through a laugh, “Does that make sense?”

“Totally. When I first got Yuuji, I didn’t think anything changed too, but now I can’t imagine a life without this little guy.”

Your adrenaline rush had worn down.

Walking side by side with Jin, arms brushing from the lack of proximity even though the area was practically empty, it dawned on you that Jin had lived an entire life before you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking: “Do you...do you still think about her sometimes? His mom?”

Jin was silent for a moment. The sudden stretch of nothingness had anxiety crawling at you hard enough you were about to apologize for asking such a sensitive question, but Jin only smiled at you, although his smile was...sad, regretful, even.

“His mom and I didn’t work out,” he began. “I always knew she had some family issues when we began dating in college, but I didn’t think too much of it. Back then, all I knew was that I loved her and wanted to spend my life with her, so we eloped. Her parents didn’t like it, of course, and they demanded we brought her back,”

“She was pregnant at that time so I refused to let her see her family again knowing how toxic they were to her. But they insisted, and...and she wasn’t the same after that. She just started looking at me differently and hating the growing child inside of her,” Jin kissed the top of Yuuji’s head as he spoke, almost as if silently reminding his son he was loved no matter what.

“When Yuuji was born, she couldn’t even look at him; said she refused to be a mother and to cut ties with me. So we divorced and...well, I don’t know, to be honest. Last time I heard, she’d already remarried in such a short time – to a man her family approved of this time around.”

“Do you still love her?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a chuckle, eyebrows furrowed while Yuuji clutched at the collar of his turtleneck sweater, his doe eyes staring right up at you. “Do we ever really stop loving someone?”

Your heart fell at his words. So maybe he still did love her. You always knew you might never get a chance – but surely wishing for it wasn’t such a crime. “Does that mean you won’t fall in love with anyone else anymore?”

“Who would like a nerdy single dad like me?” Jin threw his head back in laughter, the disbelief apparent in his voice. It shocked you that he thought of himself this way, because in your eyes, he was perfect. “Plus, I’m too busy to date. Other than you, I don’t really hang out with women all that much, and you’ve seen in my worst state – like that one time I nearly went to work wearing the wrong tie or with my glasses skewed. I don’t think I’m the type people would want to date.”

“Well, who knows?”

“Yeah, who knows?” he mimicked your shrug, still painfully oblivious that you wore your heart on your sleeve.

Once the sun had completely shied away from the clouds and the heat grew too much for Yuuji, you both resorted to going back to his apartment. Yuuji was happily playing on the ground as he smashed his toys together, while you and Jin wore matching aprons (you didn’t ask why he had two) as you mixed the batter and he preheated the oven.

“I’m still sorry I couldn’t get to buy you a cake, by the way. But we have all the ingredients here and a homemade cake is always amazing!” Instead of smiling at his words, Jin was met with your glossy eyes, lips trembling. You’d completely stopped mixing the batter, no longer in control of yourself as you watched him happily skip back and forth to the ingredients.

Jin rushed to your side in a flash, hands hovering before you. He couldn’t really touch you since he had flour all over his skin, a smidge of it right under his worried gaze. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. It’s just...I’ve never really experienced this before. Having someone invite me to their home and bake me a cake for my birthday,” you looked down on the ground, feeling the emotional dam inside you starting to crack. “When I was young, I never even cared about my birthday because I was too busy tending after my siblings. After that, I forgot all about it and I was only surprised when my friends brought me gifts today,” You knew you were rambling, and you waved your hands in front of yourself, forcing yourself to smile. “I’m sorry – I’m being dramatic, aren’t I?”

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Suddenly, Jin pulled you into a hug, your body fitting perfectly in his arms. “I want you to know you’re family to us now. You’re always welcome here with me and Yuuji. We’ll take care of each other like family. We’ll bake you all the cakes you want from now on.”

The rest of his words were drowned out by the thumping of your chest.

You couldn’t hear him, couldn’t even properly see him – in that moment, all you could do was feel. You felt his warm breath ghosting over the column of your neck, his calloused hands patting gently at your back, the heat of his body seeping into yours that pulling away seemed to be such a daunting task. He felt like home, smelled like all the sweetness you lacked in your life, and you just knew you had to tell him.

“Jin. There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“I,” your breath shuddered, hands coming up to clutch at the material of his shirt. “I’m in love with you.”

Just like that, the string broke.

Jin pulled away from you faster than you could comprehend. When you opened your eyes, he was already at an arm’s length away from you, nothing but the sounds of your heart shattering into pieces muddling with his words.

His back dipped into a low bow. “I am extremely sorry; I cannot accept your feelings. It’s not that you’re not loveable; it’s just...you’re my son’s babysitter and I believe this is really inappropriate. Yuuji is vulnerable still and the last thing I want to do is date when I should be focusing on his life instead. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I don’t see nor do I feel that way for you.”

Hurt. Broken. Humiliated. Ashamed. Torn.

A plethora of feelings crashed over you all at once until breathing became such a hard thing to do, his words replaying like a broken record in your head.

He didn’t love you.

He didn’t feel the same way.

And it made sense – because why would he? “Yeah, oh my gosh!” you exclaimed while waving your hands frantically in front of your face, your unexpected enthusiasm causing Jin to peer up at you curiously under his lashes. “I mean, of course, I knew that already, duh. I’m not stupid, but like, yeah I’m really sorry, I’m probably making you so uncomfortable right now. I’m really, really sorry.”

“You’re not, I assure you,” he smiled gently again, but this time around, you weren’t soothed. It felt totally humiliating. Your toes curled inside your socks as your forced smile froze on your face in hopes of not making this any weirder than it already was, and you only chuckled as Jin cleared his throat. “I hope we can still be friends after this and that we can keep our professional relationship,” you nodded eagerly, a little too eagerly, and Jin awkwardly gestured to the pans. “So...a cake is waiting to be baked.”

“Yeah, let’s get to baking!”

If Jin noticed that you were a lot more enthusiastic than you were this morning, he didn’t comment about it. He hummed under his breath in agreement, the both of you working synchronously.

You’ve been in his house long enough that you knew where all the pans and ingredients were, silently handing things over one another through a forced polite conversation of how the other’s day went. A pat on your back was well deserved from how you managed to keep up with his questions, your broken heart perfectly concealed under forced smiles and dry chuckles.

In reality, you couldn’t focus.

On the inside, you were shattered. Why did you have to fall for him out of all people? There could’ve been so many others – like Fushiguro Toji from Biology, Gojo Satoru the playboy, Suguru Geto the heir of his large corporation – but it had to be Itadori Jin.

He was so close and yet out of reach, seemingly so unattainable that your lips had dried from how often you licked at them in an attempt to keep the tears in.

You knew you ruined everything. Soon, you’d have to say goodbye to baby Yuuji, no longer able to kiss him on top of his head and see him smile the moment you walked through the door, his dad equally alight upon seeing you got Yuuji a stuffed toy as a gift.

You were stupid for thinking you could even be part of this family. They were happy and fine enough – what role did you have here?

Compared to an actual working adult who’d already experienced many things in life like Jin, you were just a flimsy, lovesick little girl who was only learning how to love. And with loving, came the guaranteed promise of heartbreak.

You just never expected it would be this way.

As Jin turned his back to you to place the batter inside the oven, your hands shook, desperately wiping the sweat of your palms on your jeans. “Excuse me for a minute,” you dashed to the bathroom, locking yourself and finally allowing the broken gasps to leave your lips.

Your back was laid flat on the wall, your shirt tucked in your mouth as you slapped your thigh, the tears streaming endlessly down your cheeks.

You didn’t want to leave him. You wanted to stay longer, wanted to be able to see his face every waking morning and to make him tea while he made breakfast. You wanted to watch Yuuji grow up and hold hands with Jin, to tell him you would love him if he allowed you. But he didn’t – and it hurt so much that your eyes grew red from the incessant crying.

It was better to just leave than to be kicked out. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

So you wiped your tears away, dunking water to your face before you rushed out the room, bag slung across your shoulder. Yuuji stopped playing as he watched you wear your shoes in frantic movements, your heart bursting through with pain.

You didn’t dare look Jin in the eye.

“Hey, Jin, I’m so sorry – my friends called. They’re inviting me out for drinks tonight and I can’t say no.”

“But...the cake.”

“Yeah, you can eat it yourself, I’m really sorry to bother but uhm, anyways, BYE!” Left confused, Jin stared at the door slammed shut hard enough that Yuuji fell to the floor in surprise, small whines leaving his lips.

Jin couldn’t tell whether his son cried because you’d left them, or he was simply afraid of the sound. Whatever it was, the sinking feeling in his stomach was much too clear.

The next few days were hell. Your friends noticed the sudden drop in your mood, the loss of appetite, and the fact that you were clearly sleep-deprived.

How could you get sleep when your phone wallpaper was Yuuji kissing your cheeks, his dad laughing in the background? How could you sleep when your textbook still lay on your desk, a painful reminder of that time Jin had tutored you? How could you sleep when Wednesdays and Fridays had returned to its normal mundane self with nothing left to look forward to?

You couldn’t tell your friends about it either. All they knew was that you hadn’t been going to work because you came up with a flu, when in reality you’d been buried under your sheets, desperately ignoring the loud silence of your phone.

No texts. No calls. No how are you’s or how are you doing?

Not that you expected him to care since you did step out of line; you’d been completely unprofessional and Jin might not recommend you to future works anymore, though that was the least of your worries.

You just wanted to forget everything. His smile, his laughter, his kindness, the sound of his voice and how he always smelled like sweet vanilla.

Crying yourself to sleep and wishing each day would come to an end faster was absolutely exhausting. The lack of sunlight caused you to be groggy and gray – if you kept up at this state, you’d completely wither like a dried sunflower. You didn’t want to go out but your mini fridge was empty, stomach loudly grumbling for food.

You sighed as you closed the door, unkempt hair up in a bun and body adorned with an oversized shirt and the sweatpants you’ve refused to wash for two days now.

You were a mess – both on the inside and the outside – and your eyes lacked their usual warmth. Your movements mimicked that of a robot as you straggled to the nearest convenience store, about to enter when you heard someone cry out.

“Mama!”

Hands frozen on the door, your eyes widened before your head craned to the sound of rushed footsteps. In front of you was a panting Jin, a wailing baby Yuuji in his arms who only cried louder once he set his eyes on you. Jin gasped for air, and you both moved in sync, with you reaching out for baby Yuuji and him handing his child over to you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! Yuuji’s first word was Mama and I didn’t know what he meant but then he started crying and clutching the strawberry toy you got him and I’m so sorry, he just won’t stop crying. He kept looking for you.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize!” you replied back, adding a bounce to your step to cradle Yuuji who’d buried his damp face onto your neck, crying mama over and over again.

Memories of meeting Jin for the first time and his reminder that he didn’t want Yuuji calling you that nearly made you kneel down in apology, but you opted for a slight bow, your hot tears trailing down your face because you missed him, but it was all messed up and seeing him once more only dug a deeper crater in your heart.

Before you completely left each other’s lives, you at least wanted to apologize.

“I realized my mistake and made it so weird for the both of us. Plus, Yuuji didn’t say Dada and I think that’s my fault. I swear I wasn’t trying to replace his mom or anything, I just—”

“I love you too,” he cut you off, and your eyes snapped from the ground back to his flustered face.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for lying that I don’t feel the same way,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck while his ears flushed a deep red. “The truth is, my father always told me that Yuuji’s mom wasn’t a good person and I should stay away from her, but I never listened. A-and I always talked to him about Yuuji’s new babysitter and how kind you were and how I think I’m falling for you. He said I should man up and tell you but I was just afraid to love again since I’ve fallen before and I don’t want to be hurt again,” Jin bowed to you in a perfect angle, his son now at peace in your arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Jin,” you breathed out, the tears prickling at the back of your eyes. You couldn’t believe this was happening – you wanted to embrace him, to kiss him, hold him, but you’d been so engrossed in your own heartbreak you never even thought about Jin’s fears. “I’d never hurt you or Yuuji.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for hurting you like that,” he straightened up, feeling you stiffen under him when his arms wrapped around you. He felt so warm, and you felt so at place that your tears damped his sweatshirt, Jin’s hands gently caressing your waist. “Is it okay if we come back home?”

You cried louder than you ever did your whole life, though this time it was mixed with laughter. Jin laughed with you as you encircled your free arm around his neck to pull him closer, your lips eager as you littered kisses over his neck.

“Yes, of course,” you giggled, “You don’t even have to ask.”

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away, and neither did Jin. This time, you embraced each other wholeheartedly, pink hearts floating in the air while the strawberry-haired baby giggled in your presence, delighted that now his family was whole.

#itadori jin x reader #itadori jin #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen romance #jjk #jjk itadori jin #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk romance #uh idk how else to tag this but anyways have some jin content #JIN SIMPS UNITE #HE'S THE BEST DAD FUFU

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say no to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

knight!natasha x lady!reader

sort of royalty au (there’s social hierarchy and a king and queen and knights and commoners and all that so- yeah it’s a royalty au nvm lmao)

warnings: this is fluff, angst, uh, basically everything but smut and serious angst.

word count: 2.5k, starting off short before we get into this

part one!

also, to the very few people who look for fics up here- i promise i’m alive, sorry for being m.i.a! work and school are bodying me right now

A lot could change within a year.

In a year, one was expected to grow wiser and older, and for you, because you were a woman, prettier. And because you did all three of those things in one year, you were herded off like cattle from your small farm, where the old pig you would soon be forced to call “husband” had seen you in the first place, and carted away to his large estate. You were supposed to be his wife, bear his children, and love him unconditionally even though you knew nothing about him, and he was supposed to do not even half of that for you. He had chosen you purely because your father had an abundance of wheat and animals, and he thought you were nice looking. He would surely never go hungry if he had the owner of a relatively large farm’s daughter with him.

Regardless of his reasoning for wanting to make you his wife, it ended up happening. You cried yourself to sleep the night before, and when you were done consummating the horrid marriage, you cried after he fell asleep, unable to shut your own eyes. That was how you spent your first night at the female counterpart to your lord husband, and as Lady Mirellis.

The marriage was loveless. The only thing you got out of it was a nice roof over your head and some silky clothing that made you feel like you were betraying who you really were. He was a brute and a pig, and he hardly ever spoke to you other than to tell you to get on your back, your knees, or something else as equally vile. You were the lady of his large manor, considered a small castle, but that was all you were. You made friends with the staff around, and that made things just the tiniest bit better. He was still cruel and crude, still insanely aggravating, and getting more and more angry with each month that you weren’t carrying his child.

And then, all of a sudden, he grew ill. And, within a month after he fell ill, he died. And then you were a single woman who had a large estate to her name, and a growing line of suitors who wanted nothing more than to have their last names attached to the great patch of land. You were the lady of the house without a lord, still young and still capable of marriage. After a large fuss over whether or not a young woman from your background was fit to take over, you had inherited everything.

So, yes, a lot could change in a year. And you decided that the changes that took place in that year were ones that you could barely handle.

§§

You knew exactly what the letter with the King’s Seal on it was when it was put into your hand, and you very easily guessed the contents of it.

You supposed that you should have seen it coming. Miraculously, your late husband and lord had gotten out of the Hosting, which could have been seen as treasonous or dishonorable if he had been any less careful. You grew up on a farm, and you had no idea how to go about denying or questioning royal decree, so you weren’t going to. You were going to have to Host, for the first time in your life.

Your family was never important enough to have to do it, so you had no experience with it, other than knowing that a high up lord of a small castle, or big estate, whatever one wanted to call it, was in charge of having a knight in their home while the knight completed his year long training. The training was said to come from within, and the job of the knight was to be a good, honorable guest, and to come back to the castle after their year expired as a new and improved person.

But it was rare that they truly soul searched, you had heard. Mainly because they were ninety nine percent male and thought with their penises more than their brains and hearts. The Hosting was a knight’s last stop before true knighthood, more or less a time that humbled young knights. It was a test of the true intentions of a knight, the true desires of a man who wished for glory and authority.

“For you, Milady.” You grimaced inwardly at the title, the title that you used to have to call the lady that you used to bring barrels of hay to on Sunday mornings. You nodded at the young boy, a smile on your face. He was new, and it was clear that this was his first task that involved him to speak to a “higher up” person.

You patted his head. “Thank you,” you said, and his eyes widened comically before he laughed and ran away, obviously shocked by the way you spoke to him back.

It wasn’t against the law, but it was frowned upon for nobles to speak to servants more than necessary. A noble person was not required to have manners or ask kindly for things, and when they did, it was certainly an out of the ordinary experience. You knew that well enough.

You broke the red seal and took in a deep breath, going to sit at your late husband’s desk (that you of course inherited, as you inherited everything the man had) and finding your name in perfect and Royal handwriting.

Lady Mirellis,

As you know, the time for the selection of The Hosting has come. Your house was not a host during the previous Hosting, therefore, you will be required to sponsor a knight this year. Out of respect for your late husband and all he has done for me, I will choose a knight for you, a knight that I trust. You will be safe with my choice, and the year will flow smoothly. Once again, I am sorry for your loss.

Please expect your knight within the fortnight, Lady Mirellis.

With respect, King Anthony Stark.

§§

Two weeks later, your keep was buzzing. You hated hosting things, even if they were short dinners. And you knew that you were going to hate hosting a person for an entire year. A brand new knight who was full of himself, no less.

King Anthony had given you what he thought was going to be an easy charge for a reason. New knights were known for being rowdy, disgusting, perverted, and authoritative when they shouldn’t have been. No lady should ever have to deal with the crude words or behavior of a man—certainly not. And with you and your poor husband gone, that meant that no one was there to help you.

You appreciated the kindness, but it was obvious that every man thought that women were only an extension of their husbands. If you weren’t able to handle the loud voices and taunting shouts of men and boys, you would have melted or turned to dust by the time you were thirteen years old. If you had survived a man who carted you off and away from your family like you were cattle, you could handle a boy who was staying under your roof.

Nonetheless, your people were busy, and so were you. They were making accommodations to the largest guest room, because it was to be someone’s for an entire year. They were cleaning things that you never thought would be cleaned, washing random sheets and hanging them to dry. And you? You were making the welcoming package.

You had never made one before, but you were trying your hardest. It was more or less a care package to make the knight feel comfortable. It was a starter kit, so that they wouldn’t have to ask for much or seem unfit for knighthood, because it was all about pride. So help anyone above, you wouldn’t be dealing with a knight with a bruised ego.

“Men,” you scoffed out, rolling your eyes as you fluffed the silk pillowcase and folded the top of the woven basket over, closing in everything and tying the top with a bow.

“Y/N,” a woman’s voice called out, and you turned to it with a gentle smile.

Of course it was Wanda. Her and her brother were always by your side, ever since you had arrived at the keep. Pietro was the messenger boy for Lord Mirellis, because he was so fast on his feet. He delivered a message meant to go hundreds of leagues away and came back within days, when it would take others weeks. You liked Pietro a lot. He was a funny man, cheeky, but he knew his boundaries with people, whether they were lowborn or highborn. He had the same amount of respect for everything, and you admired that about him.

Wanda however, was your favorite person in the castle. She was the first kind face that you saw when you walked into the keep. She was the first person to actually ask you if you wanted help being dressed or brushing your hair. She was able to see that you needed help with your corset before you even asked. There were so many trivial things that Wanda did for you that made you so loyal to the friendship you shared, but there was one thing you were sure to never forget.

She had been the one to help you out of bed after a rough consummation night. She was also the only woman who had offered you even a sliver of sympathy, and for that, she was your greatest ally, and on a deeper level, a true friend.

You had barely even seen her for more than five minutes before you woke up in bed by yourself the morning after that horrid night, crying silent tears and feeling sore between your legs. A knock sounded on the door, and instead of her turning away and apologizing for coming in on such an improper moment, she shut the door and asked you if you needed help, without any fear of being scolded. Wanda Maximoff was different. That’s why you liked her so much.

She was standing beside you as you waited, even though waiting for a knight was somewhat improper. You were supposed to wait inside and have them knock on your castle door, and you were to welcome them inside and have a warm dinner ready. That was how it was always supposed to go, but you decided not to do that.

You were standing outside, like the lady you had been forced to become. Your chin was slightly lifted and your hands were at your sides, even though you were desperate to fiddle with your thumbs. You took in a deep breath as you heard the sound of a carriage coming, horses and the chatter of men getting louder with each passing moment.

You would be a liar if you said that you weren’t scared to have a man in your house that you didn’t know. Not only would he be a man, but he would be a man that knew how to do things that most didn’t, such as how to properly wield a sword. You were a woman alone, a widow to a lord, and people had tried things with you before, ever since your husband had died. Most of the time, those things ended up with their hands being cut off as the legal and unyielding punishment for their attempted crimes.

“No one here is going to let a stupid knight hurt you, you know.” Pietro had come out of nowhere, chest puffed out as he looked to his sister for a moment, and then back at you. “Wanda is practically with you every second of every day, and I’m never too far.” It was true. There were guards around, as well, but you were still scared.

“If you don’t like it this year, you can always say no next year.” Wanda offered, but you whined under your breath when you remembered that this was no visit. The man would be living with you for an entire year. “And King Anthony said he would be giving you a man he trusted to sleep under your roof. I trust his word.”

“As do I,” you said quickly, ringing out your hands one last time before the carriage got closer. “I’ll be fine, you two. Thank you.” And they knew just how grateful you were for them.

The carriage was being pulled by two white horses, both looking around carelessly and cluelessly as the coachman pulled them to a stop. “Lady Mirellis,” he said, looking you up and down, clearly judging you for not yielding to tradition. “It is very kind of you to meet us outside.”

“I thought it may be easier to begin the tour early,” you said, remembering at the last moment to school your voice into sounding ladylike. The stark difference between your public voice and the one that you spoke to Wanda and Pietro with always made Wanda smile a bit, and you knew that you would have laughed if you were looking at her. “I don’t want to give my new guest too large of a culture shock. I am not quite sure if he would appreciate being hoarded inside a place he hasn’t seen before.”

The coachman gave you an odd look, almost like he wasn’t understanding what you were saying. Or maybe, why you were saying it. But, he knew that because of your status, your word outweighed his, and he would do as you said. Your heart was beating nearly out of your chest as you watched him climb out of his chair and walk around, and you saw his hand wrap around the handle of the white and gold carriage.

There was a flash of brilliant red. That was all you saw at first, and then you saw shiny armor, glinting in the sun. Your eyes trailed up from the shoes that you knew were crafted specifically for knights, up to the legs and then to the breastplate, which you noticed was curved outwards. Your brows furrowed as your eyes got stuck in that place, and you willed yourself to believe that it was a trick of the eyes. There was a pinch on your arm, and you realized that you had been staring without speaking for much too long. In your embarrassment, your eyes flickered up to meet the man’s, and then, you nearly choked.

The knight was no man at all.

*****

so this is a series! this idea has been cooking up in my head for a while now, and i figured it was finally time to go through with it! i’m really excited about this one, and i’ve already got most of it planned out. i hope you guys liked this!

also- if you would like to be tagged, you are free to ask! (bold of me to assume that any of y’all want a notif for this bye 😭) please interact with this if you liked it, it makes me so happy and motivated to hear from you guys!

#natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov fluff #natasha romanov x reader #knight au #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #my fics #natasha romanoff series #knight!natasha #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

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Muggle Music | Draco x Reader

Prompt: As a muggle born Hufflepuff you find comfort in your muggle music and books when you are feeling anxious or insecure. Although Draco has been known to have a distaste for muggles or of muggle descent, however you when it comes to you, his opinions change.

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi all! So sorry I haven’t been as active this weekend. I took the time to relax and have a little fun and unwind before things get crazy work wise with me. Hopefully I’ll be back to pumping out fics again by tomorrow!

You delicately place the record on your player that is perched happily on top of your dresser as music starts to play as the record spins. The sounds of the familiar verses and chorus melt away any anxieties that were plaguing you through the day. Stevie Nicks’s voice washed over you as you allowed your body to sway gently to the music.

Being muggle born wasn’t something you normally worn with a badge of pride at school. You were a little embarrassed that you never grew up around magic and its brilliance, rather you grew up with the mundaneness that was being ordinary for so long. But nothing could quite cheer you up like listening to muggle music or reading a good book that your mother bought from the book store. It was simple, but it never failed to make you feel at home, swallowed with warmth and comfort through these tiny vessels of your muggle upbringing.

Aside from not growing up with magic and missing out on the portion, you were also embarrassed of being a muggle especially because of who you were dating. Everyone and their mother knew that the Malfoy lineage was strict about marrying pure and only having children that would be pure bloods. You had been dating Draco for only a couple of months, but you did feel insecure about his dating history and how it has only been with pure bloods. You were the first to break that streak. Draco didn’t expect to fall for you, but when it happened, it happened fast and every thought he had about you not being a pureblood washed away. But there was always that little voice inside his head that spoke, What would mother and father think about this?

You swayed to Fleetwood Mac, trying to keep your negative thoughts at bay about how scared you were that Draco was going to break up with you because of your blood status. Earlier that day you had heard Pansy Parkinson gossiping to her posse about how Draco deserved to be with a pure blood and not some “mudblood” like you were. When you heard the words fall from her mouth, you wanted to cry. She was right. Draco deserved someone who would make his family proud and you would not do that.

You didn’t even notice the tears falling from your eyes until they ran across your lips, the salty taste on your tongue. Rhiannon softly played in the background as you wiped your tears away with the backs of your hand. This was such a silly thing to cry over, but you couldn’t help but feel the way you did. Your insecurities were getting the best of you again.

Suddenly, a gentle few knocks come from your door. You suck up your sniffles and wipe what remains of the tears away. Glancing in the mirror, you check your appearance before opening the door. And there he stood. Draco in his Slytherin robes, his white blonde hair combed back, and sneaky little smile. He pulled you in for a tight hug by your contrasting Hufflepuff robes, breathing your scent in as you relaxed under his touch. “Good afternoon, darling,” Draco squeezes you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Hi,” you mutter into his chest before pulling away, letting him inside your room.

Draco enters, plopping his bag down at your desk. He contorts his face and says, “What is that?” as if to be disgusted by the music you are playing. Your heart sinks gently into your stomach as his face looks confused.

You feel like your insecurities are now sticking out like a sore thumb. The things that bring you comfort make Draco contort with disgust. “Oh, sorry,” you quickly rush to your record player and turn off Fleetwood Mac as Landslide gets cut off. Too bad, that was your favorite song on that album. “It was my music from home. Mum gave me a few albums to take with me if I ever needed a taste of home. I didn’t know you were coming over or else I wouldn’t have played it.”

Draco suddenly grows disappointed in himself. Something you had loved so dearly and had such fond memories attached to was something he was taught to deplore. His disgust with all things doing with muggles made you upset because you were muggle born. Which in turn, meant he was supposed to hate where you came from. How could hate someone as lovely, considerate, and gentle as you? It would be impossible. “Don’t apologize. It’s your room, you play whatever you want. You can keep playing it if you want to,” he urges, hoping that you’ll play the music again just so he can see you happy, dancing along to whatever rhythm played from the odd machine you tinkered with.

Shaking your head, you insist, “No, I don’t want to play it anymore. It’ll just make me sad.” Sad because you miss home and sad because you know that Draco and you come from two separate worlds and he hated yours. Or so you thought. You chose to ignore the sad smile on Draco’s face. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

As you talked to Draco about your plans for the upcoming weekend in Hogsmeade, he couldn’t help but be distracted by his own thoughts. He hated knowing that you were uncomfortable and insecure of your muggle history. He hated that he was conditioned from such a young age to have a distaste in those things thanks to his father’s upbringing. Draco’s heart strings were strung any time he noticed you shift in your seat when someone bought up not being of pureblood descent. You would get very quiet and minutes later excuse yourself to go somewhere else away from the people who had insulted you in passing. He knew he wanted to make it up to you, but it was just a matter of how he would do it.

----

A few days later, you parked yourself at a table in the library, studying and doing homework quietly, scribbling down in your notebook every once in a while. As you jot down notes, you didn’t notice Pansy pass your table. “Studying hard mudblood?” she coos sarcastically at you.

“Please leave me alone, Pansy,” you quietly plead. You just needed to study. That was all. You didn’t need to be reminded of all of your insecurities in the middle of the library for everyone around you to watch your discomfort.

Pansy leans on the table. “Why? Because Draco can’t defend you?” she spits. “I’m still shocked that he’s with a loathsome creature like yourself. Aren’t you embarrassed? You’ll never quite live up to his or his parents expectations? I mean, what’s going to happen when you meet his parents? Let’s see if you even make it up to that point.”

Tears start to prick in your eyes as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat. “Go away, Pansy,” you speak gently, no malice in your voice even though you had wished there would be.

“Am I talking about a sensitive topic?” she asks, knowing damn well what sees doing. “Admit it, (Y/N). You’re no good for Malfoy. You and your little muggle music and muggle books. You’ll never be enough for him.”

With that, you gather all of your stuff and dash out of the library, the laughs of Pansy echoing in the library. As you turn the corner, you bump into the person you wished most not to. “Hi, love,” Draco speaks, happy to see you until he sees the hot tears streaming down your face. “Hold on, wait a minute, what’s wrong?” he grabs your arms, looking at you in the eyes.

You shake your head, “I have to go.” You push past your boyfriend, running out of the library, completely horrified of what just went down. Running down the halls and up the stairs, you try to avoid the stares of concerned students and passing, (Y/N), are you okays. You just wanted to get back to your room.

Opening the door with a swing and then slamming it shut, you inhale a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You were away from Pansy now and her torturous comments. Looking to your desk, you know exactly what you needed no matter how much it reminded you of your past. You grabbed another record from your stash that you tucked away in your drawer and plucked Queen from the pile. As you placed it on your record player, the sounds of the Jazz album filling your dormitory, sending soothing waves of comfort through you, drying your tears instantly.

Meanwhile in the library, Draco marched over to Pansy, steam bellowing from his ears. Pansy’s smile fell as she saw the pissed boy. “I don’t know what you said, but to be quite frank, Parkinson, I’m not surprised it was something rude and selfish, much like yourself,” Draco spit at her.

Pansy rolls her eyes, “Come on, Draco. You know better than anyone that you don’t belong with a mudblood. You need to stick with your own kind.”

Draco’s blood is boiling. “First of all, you know shit about what is best for me, Pansy, so I’d suggest keeping your fat nose out of my business. Second, muggle born or not, (Y/N) is a brilliant, beautiful person who is a better witch than you will ever be. If I even sense you close to (Y/N) again, consider yourself done for,” Draco scolds Pansy as her face turns parchment white.

After his little meltdown, Draco leaves the library. On a mission to find you and comfort you after what just happened.

In your room, you lay on your bed, listening to your muggle music, as you glide your fingers over the binding of your favorite muggle book, The Scarlet Letter. Maybe Pansy was right? You should just stick to your muggle things and stay away from what is muggle born. It would be for the best.

Your thoughts are disturbed when you hear a knock at the door. You groan, emerging from your position on your bed. The door opens and there’s Draco who wastes no time in scooping you up in a hug. “Don’t listen to her,” he speaks into your hair. “She has no idea what she’s talking about. She is jealous.”

“But she’s right, Draco. I’m a dumb muggle born who doesn’t belong in your world. You were destined to hate me and everything I come from. It should stay that way before things get too complicated,” you try to reason with him as Draco shakes his head in disbelief. “You’ve only dated purebloods, Draco. Ever since we got here, you’ve dated purebloods and purebloods only. I haven’t dated anyone and Merlin, it’s year six! Now, my first ever boyfriend is not supposed to like people like me.”

Draco’s heart breaks hearing you talk about yourself like this. “You mean someone who is considerate? Someone who is compassionate? Someone who loves people for their hearts?” he retorts as you ignore him. “(Y/N), I don’t care if you are pureblood or not. I want you and you only.”

Your heart should be swelling with joy, but it only makes it break. “I need to be alone right now, Dray. Please,” you whisper, holding your face in your hands. “Just leave me be for right now.”

Everything is screaming for Draco to stay and work this out with you, but he knows you need some space. He just shakes his head and leaves your room sadly. When the door closes, you don’t hesitate in letting the tears fall again.

-----

Potions class was finally dismissed as you walked alone in the halls, trying to distance yourself from everyone, to scurry away in your room, curling up into your bed while listening to more muggle music, wishing you were home with your mother and father and siblings.

Draco hadn’t come to talk to you since the library incident two days prior. He didn’t even bother trying to find you when your class took the weekend trip to Hogsmeade. You figured that he was out of your life for good and no matter how much you wanted him to stay, you knew it was best for the both of you. The relationship wouldn’t have worked out anyway. It was best for you to part separate ways.

As you approach your dormitory, you hear the faint chorus of Paul Anka’s Put Your Head On My Shoulder coming from the other side of your door. Your eyebrows furrow. Did I leave the record player on? I don’t even have that record though? You push the door open to reveal a Draco standing the middle of your room, Paul Anka playing on your record player. “What are you doing?” you ask him right off the bat.

Draco has a small smile on his lips. “Doing what I should have done when I asked you to be mine,” he claims as he grabs your hands. “When we took the trip to Hogsmeade this weekend, I bought some muggle records they had in the back of the shoppe as well as some new books for your collection,” he points to three large stacks of records and books on your desk as a smile threatens to spill on your lips. “I should have made an effort to learn about what you grew up with. But better late than never?” he suggests as you engulf him in the most enormous hug you can muster. Draco laughs as you squeeze him tight, his grip on you iron. “I took some time to listen to some of your favorite records and I stayed up all last night reading your favorite book.”

“You read The Scarlet Letter?” you ask in disbelief. The surprises never stopped when it came to Draco. He proudly nodded. “I can’t believe you would do all of this for me...this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Draco’s heart swells with pride. “It’s what you deserve,” he simply states. “Now,” he extends his hand to you. “Will you join me for a dance?”

Giggling, you accept his hand as the two of you rock gently to the sounds of Paul Anka on your record player, gazing into each others eyes as you smile like an idiot. “I can’t believe you sometimes, Malfoy,” you shake your head. “What do you think of it? The music, the book?”

“To be honest with you, it’s not half bad. The ABBA album is pretty good,” he shrugs, making you laugh wildly, throwing your head back. “Now that’s music to my ears,” he refers to your laughter as you blush.

For the next few hours, you and Draco listen to your new albums he purchased for you as you lecture him on muggle books and authors, him smiling wide as you speak passionately about them. Although Draco knew his father would have a field day when he heard about this, he couldn’t care less. You were happy and that’s all that mattered to Draco.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff x draco #hufflepuff

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pandoras-princess · 3 years

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Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader)

*gif not mine//credit to owner

A/N: Hello my lovelies! 🌸 Welcome to my first ever Peaky Blinders fic, I wrote it ages ago and have just edited it slightly so my apologies if the quality isn’t greaaat but the other parts will be better I promise! 😅 This is an AU fanfic where John never married Martha or had kids before he married Esme and there is no Grace for Tommy andddd the timeline is absolutely wack, I know it’s a lot so if you’re in the market for a traditional by the book Peaky Blinders fic this one is not for you I’m afraid 🤗 also if you’re finding it a bit slow I advise you to hang in there until after the time skip because that’s the better half of this part in my opinion, nevertheless I seriously enjoyed writing this so Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is forever welcome 😌

Summary: Being the bestfriend of Jonathan Shelby meant that you’d grown up attached at the hip. And considering you were hopelessly in love with him, life was eventful to say the least. With John marrying Esme you decide it’s high time you got over him. And as they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else...

Pairing: (OOC) Thomas Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, smoking and drinking, mentions of addiction, mentions of sex but no smut I’m afraid

PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

━◦ ♡ ◦━◦ ♡ ◦━◦━◦ ♡ ◦━◦ ♡ ◦━

Being John Shelby's best friend was definitely not an easy job.

You and John were the exact same age, born on the same day of the same month of the same year, precisely one hour and eleven minutes apart, and since your family only lived one house away from the Shelby's it was a given that you and John would grow up to be best friends.

You were as good as family to them, so when your father was killed in the war and your mother unable to cope turned to the drink and drugs, you were left officially orphaned at age 10 and Polly arranged for you to live with them, raising you as her own.

Growing up with the Shelby's came with it's challenges. They were all fiercely protective of you but no one more so than John. When you were kids he'd beat up anyone that dare made you cry, or sad or angry or anything other than happy really, and as you grew older and began to date he'd scare away anyone deemed not up to scratch, which seemed to be pretty much all of them, threatening violence known around Small Heath as common behaviour for the Peaky Blinders. This meant that you never really had a boyfriend, or many boys interested in you at all for that matter, and any who were rarely had the balls to act on it for fear of the Peaky Blinders wrath. However this didn't bother you much as there was only ever one boy you truly wanted interested in you, the one boy who never would be interested in you.

Of course being a teenage girl you'd had your silly crushes, Tommy being one of them. But they all paled in comparison to what you felt for John.

Being best friends meant that the two of you spent practically all of your time together, did everything together, went through and dealt with everything together. He had always been your shoulder to cry on, your ear to bend, your hugs and smiles and laughs, your safe place. It was inevitable that you'd fall for him. And fall for him you did, painfully obvious to everyone except John himself.

Shortly after your 16th birthday, you were reading a book by the fire, a woven blanket strewn across your legs and a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands when John bursts into the house loud, drunk and jolly. He often snuck out to join his brothers in their shenanigans - whether it be business or pleasure - and you were all too happy to listen to his stories when he came home.

You watched John intently as he regaled to you his latest night out. You watched the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly as he spoke, a smug smile tracing his lips every so often. His eyes glistened from the whiskey and his lips were wet. A cigarette clasped lazily between his fingers, his eyes closed for a split second whenever he took a drag. Deep in admiration of the boy sitting in front of you, you didn't quite notice the change of events in the story.

"-and then she walked right up to me and kissed me!"

It was at that point that your attention snapped back, ears pricking up and heart racing as you go over what he'd just said. But too excited to wait, John didn't give you the chance to work out if you had misheard him.

"Well before I know it she's got me in the back alley dress hiked up going at me like a feral she was. Can ya believe it after all this time I'm finally a man aha!" John exclaims, a goofy, ear-splitting grin plastered on his face.

He spares any explicit details, knowing it was no way to talk with a lady no matter how close they are to you or how drunk you may happen to be. Nevertheless, upon hearing those final words coupled with the look of pure elation on his face, your heart shatters into millions of ice cold shards right before your eyes. The pain that was rapidly building in your chest and the image of John with some tart, skirt bunched around her waist fucking like dogs in the alley was too much for you to bear. A wave of nausea washes over you and you stand abruptly, dashing to the loo before the contents of your stomach emptied onto the carpet.

A few minutes later you hear faint knocks on the door.

“Ye alright in there love?” John asks, concern lacing his words.

“All good” you reply quickly, willing your voice to steady itself.

Wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead you collapse into a heap against the wall, and a sigh escapes your lips as you wrack your brain for the exact moment you had lost him. While John had never shown any signs of liking you, you were always able to draw hope from the relationship you two had, no matter how blind it may have been. Now though, he had dashed that hope, blind or otherwise, as he had given himself to someone else. He had openly chosen not to be with you.

Not to be yours.

Fobbing John off with some excuse about a dodgy dinner you quickly retreat to bed, going without giving him a hug, unable to bring yourself to touch him. And from that day onwards you lived with the knowledge that your love was unrequited. You lived with loving him, and him not loving you.

For the most part it was rather easy. John wasn't the kind for serious relationships - preferring causal sex to the committed kind - so you never really had to deal with any girlfriends or the lark, just the occasional tart interested in him on the rare nights out you tagged along. Even then, you soon learned not to go on any nights out without Ava or Polly present and so the issue of John and his women quickly became dormant. That was, however, until John agreed to marry Esme Lee.

Tommy came to you before asking John, asking for your help in convincing him. He knew John would come to you with it asking for advice before deciding. Tommy explained his plan, marry John off to the Lee girl forcing them to squash the war and join forces to overthrow Billy Kimber. It was simple enough and since you'd already accepted there was never to be a you and John, you agreed.

The time came and sure enough John came to you, confused and somewhat annoyed at Tommy's rough handed approach, and sure enough you stayed true to your word, telling him it was nothing new, people had arranged marriages all the time.

So on he went to marry her, your true feelings unknown to the man.

[2 years later]

"You shouldn't be working here you know. John certainly wouldn't like it" Tommy said, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you carefully wipe down the bar surface. He was referring to your new job as barmaid in the Garrison and having just finished your first shift you were cleaning up. Last orders had been and gone and every punter had now left the pub, drunk and merry on their ways.

After John married Esme you spent the next two years much to yourself. You embraced the spinster lifestyle and faded away into the passing days. However it was the turn of a new year and to everyone's joy you'd come to your senses, deciding it was high time you stopped wasting your life moping after John. He didn't love you - that much was clear - but somebody out there must and so it was time for you to move on, you thought. Reinvent yourself. This 'new you' started with marching into Tommy's office and demanding the new barmaid job. Surprisingly he offered no resistance, merely a quizzical look at your sudden determination before giving you the job. So here you were, your first shift done and nobody left in the place but you and your new boss.

"Well it might surprise you to know, Mr Shelby, but I don't abide my decisions by what John would or would not like me doing" you reply. Finishing up you leave the cloth on the bar and make your way over to the table, taking the chair adjacent to his.

"Is that so?" He asks, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he offers you a cigarette. You accept, bending down slightly to the offered flame and without breaking eye contact, you light the cigarette and take a drag, exhaling as you sit back up.

"Yes, Thomas, that is so" you reply, the use of his name making clear your exasperation with the questioning.

"Very well then, a toast-" he picks up the bottle of whiskey and pours some into each glass, placing one in front of you and taking one himself "-to your new job, and to your new found freedom" he says, locking eyes with you on his last words and clinking your glass before you both down it. If growing up with the Shelby's had taught you one thing it was how to hold your liquor.

Soon you and Tommy were halfway through the bottle and quite drunk, too caught up in the fun to notice. It was now something past 3 in the morning; you and Tommy had been talking, drinking and laughing for nigh on 3 hours now, going through old stories of your childhoods, stories from before you were born and from afterwards, stories of your parents and stories of his.

"So tell me, what is the meaning behind this sudden change in you then?" Tommy inquired, only too happy to see your old self back again.

Before you knew it the whiskey had gotten the better of you and you found yourself telling him the reason. You told him about John, about your love for him, about that night and about how you'd come to terms with it and decided to move on.

"Besides, it's not like he was the first boy I ever liked, so I'm quite sure he won't be the last" you state matter of factly, unaware of the storm you had just brewed.

See, unbeknown to you, Tommy was fully aware of everything you had just poured out to him. He knew about your love for John. He knew the deepest parts of your heart, your mind, your soul. Every crush and fling you'd ever experienced Tommy knew all about it, thanks to a little book you liked to keep hidden under your mattress. You had been detailing all matters of yourself in that little black journal for as long as you could write. Polly happily replacing it when you found your current one full, it was much easier than finding a shoulder to cry on every time you needed one. When Tommy came across it he had no idea what it was, merely out of curiosity did he open it and start reading.

"Oh, who was?" Tommy asked, lighting another cigarette. Following suit you decide to take a minute to weigh up your options, drinking in the smoke as you did.

"You” your voice remains deceptively steady, not wanting the man watching you so closely, so attentively, to become aware of the raging swarm of butterflies occupying your stomach.

"Is that so?" Tommy pulls on his own cigarette, the smoke rising from his lips as his eyes lock onto yours. "So what changed then?" His eyebrow arches perfectly, a smirk gracing his lips.

"You're 4 years older than me! There was no way you'd ever look at me as anything other than an annoying little sister!” You say in a chuckle, the fiery whiskey encompassing all of your thoughts in a humorous glow.

"And if I told you I do look at you as something other than an annoying little sister?" His eyes flick to your lips for a millisecond before returning to your own (E/C) orbs. If you’d have blinked you would’ve missed it, but your full attention being fixed on the man before you meant that you hadn’t.

"Well... that would certainly change things." The possibility of one of your fantasy's coming true ignited you to your very core.

Silently, Tom rises from his seat and offers his hand to you. You take it, and he leads you to his office with the worst of intentions in mind.

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

Text

Happiness Continues

Part 12: Home

Summary: Jensen and Y/n are adjusting to being new parents when an unexpected visitor turns everything upside down.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.9K+

Warnings: Language, mentions of postpartum struggles, home invasion, attempted kidnapping

Author’s Note: Thank you all for the endless love, my girls who are always there to cheer me on, and my amazing beta @emoryhemsworth xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

4 Weeks Later

Steam billowed up from the mug that sat on the counter. Y/n dipped the teas bags in and out of the boiling water, letting the flavor steep out. Once she was satisfied that it had been long enough since she’d initially dropped the bags in, the mother pulled the soaking pouch from the mug, squeezing the excess water from them into the sink. She pulled open the tabs of the nursing bra she was wearing and stuck one bag into each cup, allowing the warm, humid, heat to surround her swollen nipples.

“Every time I walk into this room you are doing something strange in our kitchen.” Jensen’s voice had her popping her head up, a soft smile on her face. Her husband was cradling their son in the crook of his arm, the infant cooing as he looked up at his father.

“I looked it up online; it’s supposed to help with pain,” the noise that fell from her mouth was almost a whine… almost.

“Have you talked to the doctor about it?”

“Yeah, it’s likely he’s just cluster feeding because he’s going through his first growth spurt. It should taper off in a few days, but for now, he’s attached to my fucking breasts, so they are not having a good time.” Y/n picked up her mug and headed into the living room to plop down on the couch.

It was no secret that parents, especially new parents, tended not to get much sleep, but nothing had prepared her for this level of exhaustion. Since birth, Y/n felt like she didn’t get any time to herself. She was a walking milk machine with her body attempting to heal at the same time, and more than once, she found herself in tears out of pure frustration. Jensen had been wonderful, of course, and having Donna around during that first week was a godsend, but they could only do so much, especially now that he was cluster feeding. The fact that Ezra was even letting Jensen hold him at the moment was something of a miracle. She was hoping the tea might help her sleep a tad more soundly, something she had been struggling with since her son was born, her body hyper-aware of everything happening around her, but she had to be careful and watch how it affected the baby. The tip about the tea bags on her sore nipples was a lucky bonus.

Jensen followed her to the couch, sitting beside her as their son babbled away in his arms. The new mother couldn’t even stop herself, her attention immediately on Ezra. She smiled brightly down at him, using her free hand to wipe away the flyaway hairs at the crown of his head. Her husband watched the exchange, an equally wide grin on his face.

“He’s a growing boy, that’s for sure,” Jensen agreed, watching his wife with an amused smile.

“Yeah, well, I wish he would stop.”

“Don’t all parents wish that?” He sat back in his seat, laying out Ezra along the length of his lap. The little boy peered up at his parents, his chubby legs and arms thrashing about.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice high as she played with the giggling baby during their conversation. Y/n continued to make faces at the smiling baby as she spoke, her attention divided between the men in her life. “I just know it makes me feel old.”

“It makes you feel old?” He scoffed out a laugh at her comment.

“You know what I mean. He’s already growing out of outfits. I blame you and your damned height for that.”

“Oh, as if height doesn’t run on your side of the family,” Jensen pursed his lips and she laughed at him.

“Fine, you’ve got me on that one. I’ll just blame my dad.” She turned her attention from the infant, whose eyes had begun to grow heavy, a beaming smile on her face as she looked at her husband.

“Sounds good to me,” he smiled back at her, leaning in to peck her lips. “I’m going to see if he’ll let me rock him.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in bed.” Y/n watched as Jensen shifted Ezra back into his arms so he could stand. He turned to her as he got to his feet, the tall Texan bouncing the infant in place as he spoke.

“It’s seven-thirty.”

“Yeah, so I’ll see you in bed,” she repeated with a pat to his behind as she stood along with him. Jensen shook his head as he headed off, leaving her to get ready for the night with a smile on both their faces.

****

The cries ringing through the house grew insistent, the pitch rising fast through the baby monitor before she was jolted awake. Her body jumped from the bed on instinct, startling the sleeping man next to her.

“Again?” He husked, his voice like gravel as he didn’t bother to open his eyes, but he recognized the sound filling the bedroom. Y/n wiped her hand over her face, rubbing her knuckles into her tired and sore eyes.

“Yeah, it’s the damn cluster feeding,” she replied as she tossed the covers from her body. Jensen moved to get up from the bed at the same time, but she gently urged him back against the mattress. “I’ve got him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, unless you want to breastfeed him.” It was supposed to be a joke, but she was too exhausted to attempt to hide the aggravation behind her statement. Her adamance about avoiding a bottle had turned into Ezra refusing them, which meant that she and her nipples got no breaks. Not to mention if they wanted to break the cluster feeding, baby-to-breast was the quickest way.

A wide yawn broke across her face as she fetched her robe, slipped it on, and headed to the nursery. She let her muscle memory guide her body through the house, her eyes still struggling to open fully as she shuffled across the floor. The fatigue in every cell of her body was fighting against being awake again.

Y/n pushed open the door with another yawn, her eyes on the crib as she entered. Between the cries, the white noise machine, and the lethargy, her brain didn’t process that something was off until it was too late.

“Hello, Y/n.” Y/n whipped around, her breath catching in her throat at the sight in front of her. Seated in the glider in the corner of the nursery was Chandler, her son wailing away in his arms as the man rocked the chair back and forth. Y/n opened her mouth to talk, but for once she was truly speechless. Adrenaline was now coursing through her blood, the only thought in her head on getting her son away from him.

“There’s no way...” When she finally willed away the lump in her throat, the words slipped past her lips, cracked with fear. Chandler’s menacing grin somehow grew wider on his round face as she spoke.

“Where there is a will, there is a way,” Chandler chuckled to himself as if he’d cracked some code and not just uttered one of the most common idioms in the English language. “See, I overestimated your security system at first. It messed up my whole plan, and I had to improvise. No worries though, he will not notice anything.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Her mind was reeling. Part of her was attempting to assess the situation, looking for any way out, while the other half listened to the deranged words of a sick man, but it seemed Chandler was the priority. That is until he no longer had her son.

“He thought he was doing the right thing by changing out the system when in fact he just made my job of freeing you that much easier,” Chandler went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “Hooking everything up to the Internet just makes it easier to hack. Besides, I was already on your computer—”

“Wait, my computer?” Her voice broke through his rambling.

“I’ve been waiting for years now to save you, but I had to make sure you were safe in the meantime… so I have been keeping an eye on you,” Chandler explained to her, the nonchalance in his voice terrifying as her son continued to cry in the man’s arms.

“You cloned my computer.” The realization hit her like she had been slapped.

“More or less,” Chandler rolled his eyes at her statement. That action somehow irritated her more than the fact that he was holding Ezra hostage at the moment.

“You keep saying ‘save me.’ Save me from what?” At this point, Y/n was only trying to buy herself some time to come up with a plan of her own. Her eyes flickered around the room, landing on the baby monitor sitting high on the wall. The green light on the side of the camera was not shining, signaling that it had been turned off. Whether it was Jensen or Chandler who had done it, she couldn’t be sure. Both her and Jensen were guilty of shutting the device off in the past if their son was still fussy as someone was attending to him in the middle of the night. It was the only way they managed to get an inkling of sleep some nights. Now she was afraid that it could be her undoing.

“This obviously,” he indicated the child in his arms. The infant was still fussing, but his cries had grown softer in the mere minutes since she had walked into the room. “This cliché of a life you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“What if I told you I loved my life?”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“You don’t even know me!” Y/n reared back at his observation, more than irritated that she had been dropped into the lunacy of this man’s head once again.

“I do know you!” Chandler yelled back, the roar in his voice startling the fussing baby and sending him into another frenzy of cries. He rose to his feet then, and she could now make out the holster on his hip. Y/n stepped back, the revelation of the possible escalation of the situation heavy on her shoulders. “I know you’re way too good just to be someone’s wife and mother!”

It took her a moment to find her voice again, the frightened woman shaking where she stood as she kept her eyes on her son. All she wanted was for him to put Ezra down, but she had to be careful how she went about it. There was no telling what might set him off next time.

“So what now?”

“We leave,” Chandler allowed the grin to return to his features, the triumph in his eyes not lost on Y/n. “You and me.”

Y/n bit down hard on the tip of her tongue, wanting to say anything but what she ended up saying next. “Okay.”

****

The faint sound of a distant shout and the continued muffled cries from across the house pulled Jensen back to consciousness. He blinked in the darkness, confusion taking over as he realized what he was hearing.

He rolled over in the bed, noticing Y/n was still up, making the cries of his son unusual. The still groggy man crawled across the bed and snatched the baby monitor off of the nightstand. He hit the power button, bringing the screen back to life in no time. As it adjusted to the darkness of the room, he could see where his wife stood near the doorway, but she wasn’t holding Ezra, and Jensen couldn’t see him in the crib. The scene perplexed his tired mind. That was until his wife’s voice came through the small monitor.

“So what now?”

“We leave.”

The sound of a second voice in the room had Jensen on his feet in an instant. He cursed under his breath as he ran back to his side of the bed and pulled his pistol out of the locked compartment at the bottom of his drawer where it had been waiting for this very moment. Somewhere deep down, he’d always suspected they hadn’t seen the last of the man that haunted his wife’s dreams. Though he’d hoped that it wouldn’t play out this way, he hadn’t disregarded any of the potential scenarios where Chandler may re-emerge.

Jensen expertly checked the magazine and chamber before flipping off the safety. He ripped his phone from the charger and dialed 9-1-1, putting it on speaker in front of the monitor before sprinting from the bedroom. His long legs brought him to the nursery in no time, his wife’s name on the tip of his tongue.

“Y/n!”

****

“Okay?”

“Yes, just—” The sound of her name had her spinning on her heel, her husband skidding to a stop behind her. His brow creased in the center of his forehead as they made eye contact before he lifted the gun in his hands. The glare that settled into his features as he took in the scene in front of him was downright terrifying to look at. “Jensen, no!”

“I would listen to her,” Chandler challenged, his actions mirroring that of the enraged husband and father. With the baby in his grip, he was at a disadvantage physically, but the reality was that meant he now held all the cards.

“Please?” Y/n put her hands up, one towards Jensen and one towards her stalker. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she turned a pleading gaze on her husband. “Jensen put the gun down.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m leaving,” she hiccupped, hoping he would understand what she was doing, that every action from here on out was about making sure Ezra was safe. Most of all, she hoped Jensen knew that no matter what, she loved him. “Put it down.”

Jensen searched her face, his eyes scanning over every inch of her tear-stained features, searching for anything to hint she was lying to him, but the truth was she had every intention of going. If it meant Ezra was safe, she would leave and figure the rest out later. It was all she had right now. He nodded, his eyes glistening as he succumbed to the truth in her words. He clicked the safety back on and set it on the ground before kicking it away from him.

Y/n turned back to Chandler. “See, I’m coming with you, but you’ve got to put my son down. Please, just put him in the crib and I’ll go wherever you want.” The man eyed her before glancing at the crying infant. Carefully he placed Ezra into the crib, his eyes never leaving the couple as he did so. A shuddering breath escaped her chest as soon as her son was out of the line of fire.

“Go,” Chandler indicated out the door with his gun, the action causing Y/n to flinch, but she did as she was told. Jensen was forced to step back and watch as the woman he loved was carted off at gunpoint. Instinct was yelling at him to go after them, but one false move could mean he risks her life and he had their son to think about too, so instead, he let her go.

Y/n kept her head forward, blinking back the tears that were blurring her vision as she walked. The unknown laid out before her with every step she made, and it took everything in her to keep from breaking into hysterics. Her chest ached with every fractured breath she attempted, bordering on hyperventilating. Chandler grabbed her arm as she passed the door outside, tugging her back and out the door into the courtyard. She shivered in the night air, the stone wet and cold under her feet as he dragged her along. Her whole being wanted to protest, but there was no use anymore, she was at his mercy.

He continued to drag her down the driveway and into the road, his grip tightening on her bicep. Her feet shuffled beneath her, her toes going numb from the cold with every step. There was no telling where or how far he would take her. She only hoped someone would be able to find her, or one day she’d be able to find her way back.

Chandler walked up to a parked car sitting at the end of the street less than two houses down from her home. He guided her to the passenger seat, unlocking the door and tugging it open for her. Y/n let out a huff as he shoved her forward, biting her tongue to stop the comment she wanted to spit at him. She turned her back on him before she got in, her eyes going straight to his hands and the gun where he was flipping off the safety. The once irritated woman saw his guard down as her opportunity to run, her stomach now in her throat. It was now or never.

The woman used this momentary distraction to disarm him, the gun skidding against the asphalt and behind the car. She lunged for the device as he howled from the pain she inflicted to his wrist, picking up the pistol in trembling hands and bolting across the street. Temporarily dazed, Chandler unintentionally gave her a head start before chasing after, anger enticing his actions. His hand reached out just as she got to her feet, gun in hand, his fingers gripping a sliver of the tie of her robe to tug her backward, making Y/n lose her footing. Her body tumbled to the ground, the wet concrete slicing up the exposed skin of her extremities.

“Stop!” She screamed as she hastily rolled onto her back, the gun aimed at his head as he loomed over her. Her heavy breaths fanned into the night sky in a plume of white mist as she laid out on her back in the middle of the street.

“Ha, you won’t do it,” he snarled, taking in the way the adrenaline and cold had her whole body shaking.

“Try me,” she growled back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her break yet again. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated whether or not she was capable, but Y/n held her ground, refusing to move first. The sound of police sirens hit before the blue and red flashing lights began to bounce off the nearby houses. Y/n let out a breath as a police car skidded to a stop just in front of them, the headlights bathing the two in blinding light.

“Drop your weapon!” She heard the shouts coming at her, but she wasn’t ready to give in. More than anything she wanted to shoot him, for the months of worry and stress to be over once and for all, but she knew deep down that it was over. Y/n put her hands up in defense, dropping the clip from the gun before setting it down slowly and pushing it out of her reach.

Then everything happened in a blurred mess. She was on her stomach, her hands being pulled behind her back and secured into metal cuffs before the officer brought her to her feet. It was now that she finally let the floodgates open, every emotion hitting her at once and racking her body with sobs. The cops must have thought she was crazy, but she honestly didn’t care.

“Shit, Y/n!” Jensen’s voice had her popping her head up. He was jogging down the street towards her in just his boxers and a robe. The cop turned on him as he approached, stopping in his path.

“Sir, please, you’re gonna have to stand back.” The cop grabbed him by his shoulders as Jensen continued to try and pass him.

“The hell I am! You have my wife in handcuffs!” Jensen barked as he knocked the hands of the cops away from his body.

“This is your wife?”

“Yes, now will you tell me why she’s being detained?” Jensen kept trying to peek over the cop’s shoulder, trying to meet his wife’s eye as she continued to sob. The sight hurt worse than watching her walk out the door. After everything she’d been through, now this, and he couldn’t even be there to hold her.

“She was pointing a gun at this man when we pulled up,” the police officer explained.

“Maybe because he was trying to kidnap her!”

“Sir, please, it's just procedure. Let us take both your statements and we can go from there,” he assured Jensen.

“Can I at least see her?” The annoyance was heavy in his words. The cop nodded and Jensen didn’t think twice before rushing to her side. He pulled her body into his arms, cradling her head against his chest as he began to cry with her. “Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again.”

“I’m sorry, I had to for Ezra,” she wept, her inability to hold him as well making everything worse. Jensen sighed, his whole body going slack when her words registered in his head.

“Shhh, I know, I know. I just—I can’t lose you.” He kissed the crown of her head, one hand moving to rub up and down her back as he continued to try and soothe her.

The police officer returned with the gun now in an evidence bag. Y/n couldn’t believe what was happening. She felt like she was watching someone else’s life through their eyes and not her own. It was all so surreal. The officer took Jensen’s statement before she insisted he go back to the house. He didn’t want to go, but he’d been gone long enough, the baby monitor in his pocket not sufficient for anything longer than he had been away. He reluctantly left her in custody, placing one last kiss on her forehead before he returned to their son.

Once the paramedics arrived on the scene a few minutes later, the cops released her, Y/n’s statement, and Chandler’s record enough to explain the scene they had arrived at. She didn’t want to let the medics clean her wounds, her mind focusing only on returning home, but she eventually relented that it was the best course of action. The second they cleared her, Y/n was on her feet, running back to her house as if her life depended on it because honestly, she felt like it did.

Jensen was waiting in the kitchen, attempting to feed a fighting Ezra a bottle. He turned when he heard the door opening, relief washing over him that she was back to him. The still shaking woman ran to her family, allowing her husband to properly wrap her in his arms as she held both of her men against her chest. Her face was shoved into his robe on his shoulder as she let the floodgates open, soaking the fabric in her tears. Jensen shushed her through the release, her body shaking as it came down from the high of everything that had happened. There was no stopping the trauma the night had inflicted upon her, no matter how much she tried.

So she chose instead to let it out. At the end of it all, Y/n would push it all aside and move forward because she refused to let the experience control her any longer. All that mattered was continuing to build and nurture the family that she and Jensen had started. It wouldn’t be easy, but time would heal the wounds if she worked through them now, and her promise to the guys in her life was to figure it out. Her promise was one of a future filled with nothing but continued happiness.

Epilogue

Forevers: @22sarah08 @akshi8278 @anathewierdo3467 @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @katehuntington @lyarr24 @malfoysqueen14 @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @smol-and-grumpy @suckmyapplejacks @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @tatted-trina6 @thoughts-and-funnies @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

Happiness Continues: @afangirlreacts @anaelsbrunette @ashleyrose0117 @austin-winchester67 @cno92 @deanbowlegsackles @deangirl93 @deans-baby-momma @death-unbecomes-you @dvnmbabe @fangirl199813 @harryhook-lover @hoboal87 @itsdesiree86 @jbsgirl4eber11 @let-me-luve-you @linki-locks11 @lunarmoon8 @neverland14353 @onethirstyunicorn @parinarain @rebeccathefangirl @rebelemilu @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @squirrelnotsam @stoneyggirl @supernatural3002 @traceyaudette @winchestergirl82 @winqhster @zpandaqueen

If your username is crossed out, Tumblr will not let me tag you. Sorry!

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darthkruge · 3 years

Note

heyy Megan, I'm trying to do a character study on Anakin but im finding very limited information online. what do you think are some of his worst and best traits? his personality, humor and like his values? thank you so much,, hope you have a good day/night

omg hi!! thank you for asking me!!

*cracks knuckles* let’s get into it

anakin skywalker character analysis

best traits:

intelligence, overall skill, curiosity

anakin was building droids from scraps when he was a child. he spoke huttese and basic from a young age, as well. he’s an insane battle strategist, wonderfully skilled in battle/with a lightsaber, and incredible pilot! he can pick up new skills quickly, as well. i’m just gonna link this post by @chokemeanakin bc it just sums it up real nice.. but yes smart boy love him

compassion, capacity for emotions, empathy, understanding

anakin feels things deeply. i’ve talked about this a lot before lol. but yeah he is frequently in conflict over the sheer weight of the emotions he carries. further, as a jedi, this is not something his peers could relate to. but he always tries to be there for his friends and would do anything to ease their pain. and i think that anakin seeks to understand others. he’s spent so much of his life feeling alone and like no one related to him; he wants to know how other people work, feel, and think.

loyalty, friendship, caring

anakin is so fucking loyal to those he loves. and, tying into my previous point, he loves deeply. he cares, he always has. he treats droids as humans and forms attachments, even though they may be forbidden. he held onto that need for love, for connection even after he joined the order. and he would defend those he loves til the very end...

selflessness, protectiveness, bravery

anakin would literally dive headfirst into danger to save someone he loves. he doesn’t care about hurting himself or honestly whatever happens to him, as long as those he cares for are safe.

worst traits:

impulsivity, recklessness

i think we’ve all seen anakin be a bit impulsive at times... sometimes, he just doesn’t think everything through. this is especially clear when someone he loves is in danger. anakin’s lost so many people that when he’s faced with the threat of losing another, his judgment can become clouded.

insecurity, jealousy, fear

anakin is frequently jealous, which stems from his insecurities. he was probably conflicted a lot; brought into the order as a young child and told he was the chosen one. the weight of the galaxy was placed on his shoulders and, yet, he was held back in classes as a padawan, he didn’t make rank (canonically). i think these things are what allowed palpatine to manipulate him; palpatine knew anakin was afraid, insecure, and, yet, arrogant (my next point dw). he tapped into this and because anakin and the council did not have much mutual trust (aside from like obi-wan), it was easier to get to him. especially because palpatine used anakin’s fear of losing padme and his unborn children to do so. fuck palpatine bro-

arrogance

yes, anakin was insecure. yes, he was also arrogant. let me explain myself. he occassionally rushes into things without thinking, thinking he can handle them. i think a lot of this stems from being told he was the chosen one from such a young age. that title combined with his skill?! it makes sense he’d internalize it. i am now going to stop myself before i rant about how the gifted education system is a fuckfest. this is coming from someone who spent years in that program. anyway-

personality/overall rant about his life/motivations:

i think i summed up a lot of his personality within the best and worst traits because i got ahead of myself but im going to say some more!! i think a lot of anakin’s personality is dependent on his deep capacity for emotions. you can see that throughout ROTS, he was conflicted almost all the time. he grew up as a slave and all he wanted was to protect his mother. he built droids to help her and competed in podraces to tryand get them anything that could help.

then, he was taken to the order. suddenly, all these amazing traits he has make sense!! but then the person who’s supposed to train him (qui-gon) dies after anakin’s only known him for a short period of time. anakin’s attachment issues are abundant (i don’t think i need to explain that one) so of course he grows close to obi-wan! but obi-wan was trying to be strong for anakin. even though obi-wan struggled himself with attachment, he tried to be strong and put up a front as a “good” jedi for anakin to look up to. while this was helpful, anakin probably just felt more conflicted, as no one in his life could relate to the bredth of emotions he felt. this caused him to be more introverted and withdrawn (i talk about that in this post)

then, he loses his mother, she dies in his arms. the only person he’d wanted to protect from a young age, who he left to join the jedi, dies in his arms. he blames himself for this, thinking he should have gotten there faster, should have done something more. he probably also blamed the jedi, to at least some extent. why do these powers matter if they can’t save the people he loves? i believe he acted out of anger, killing the tuskens, because (at least to some degree) of the jedi. instead of teaching him how to express his emotions (pain, fear, loss, grief, etc.), they train him. to some degree, he might think all he’s good for is these skills. so he acts out of anger, slaughtering them.

and then finally he finds someone who loves him in the way he wants to be loved. padme stays by his side, even after he killed the tuskens. she sees the good in him and treats him as a man, not a prophecy. but once again, this motif of fear remains! he has to hide this love, one of the only pure and good things in his life! he has to live in fear every second of every day because, if the council finds out that he found happiness and love, everything is ruined.

but then he starts getting the vision’s that padme will die. and not just padme, now his unborn children could die, too. the one thing he has that is good and purely his could now be ripped away. he knew he was helpless, knew there was nothing he could do to stop it by himself. the council isn’t that helpful, telling him to learn to let it go with the force. while that might help any other jedi, it just pushed anakin away. he would never be able to just surrender and let go to the force, not when the life of his entire family is at risk!

and he finds palpatine, someonoe who has spent years trying to manipulate him. but palpatine is smart, he’s cunning. anakin didn’t know what the real intentions were and, truly, he probably didn’t want to know. he was blinded by his fear and if anything could save padme, he would do it. then the council try to get him to spy on palpatine. again, conflict. anakin’s loyalty is repeatedly questioned and pushed and prodded, he was probably so confused! he didn’t know who to trust. but, when you combine the current situation with his backstory with who he is and what he cares about, it makes sense why it all happened.

this is what i mean when i say conflict. he was pulled in a million directions constantly. and we all know how his story ends and i don’t want to cry so i’m not gonna detail it...

also: i’m not saying any of this excuses all of his choices, but it does explain them.

humor:

lowkey a dork

he is. and i love that about him. you can see this in the way he flirts with padme sometimes... like floating the pear to her and the whole “i don’t like sand” thing. he’s a fucking dork. can’t exactly blame him nor do i hold it against him! he didn’t have many close friends growing up and he was like pining for padme for years so it’s not like he spent that time creating a playbook

he’s also witty!

i think this comes with his intelligence; he’s witty and he’s quick. example: “general grievous, you’re shorter than i expected.” i mean he’s no sass-king obi-wan kenobi but anakin definitely can hold his own in a verbal sparring match!

also i headcanon him as having horrible puns but loving them!

values:

love, friendship, connections

at his core, anakin just wants to find someone who understands him and his emotions. who can relate to him. he wants those connections; in fact, he actively seeks them out. love is a key part of his identity. i talk about this in this post about his love languages so imma just link it there!

success, validation

tying into his determination, anakin wants to do well! he pushes himself and i think he’s a perfectionist, too. you can see this in the way he holds himself as a general; he doesn’t slack off, doesn’t not care. he understands the responsibility he has in that role and he takes it seriously! and just in his overall skill level, even though he was a bit of a child-prodigy, he clearly spent a long time training. he probably also had some imposter syndrome going on and was constantly trying to prove his worth.

----

uhh yeah i think i got everything?? yes?? he’s so complex and i legit love him immensely. doing character analysis for anakin is my favorite thing in the entire universe! if anyone has anything they want to add, please feel free!!

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker character analysis #anakin character analysis #this is a rant i apologize #anakin thoughts #character analysis

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michellewritesthings · 4 years

Note

Any Moxiety PLEASEEEE you’re first fic with Patton and Virgil is just 😍

Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing! Tysm. And one Moxiety fic comin’ right up! (I attempted to make this a mini fic but the story kept building in my head so you’re getting a little extra. Hope you enjoy! ~Michelle 🤍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil assumes it was going to be a normal day. A normal day that would consist of Patton cooking, Roman and Logan arguing about some random BS and Virgil laying back on the couch with his headphones on. But unfortunately (or fortunately) he was wrong.

Virgil came downstairs and was met with eerie silence. He looked around the living room yet no one was around. He shrugged it off and walked into the kitchen to get something to drink. Before he could make it to the fridge, he was met with Logan sitting behind the table, holding the bridge of his nose.

“Uh, what’s the meaning of you cowering in fear, L?” Virgil stifled a chuckle when Logan stared up at him with irritation.

“Please, do not act like you are unaware of the current events taking place right now.” Logan whispered out as Virgil stared back at him in confusion.

“If I knew, would I have asked you that question?” He smirked at Logan’s eye roll.

“Hey, Emo Nightmare! Do us all a favor, and shut up. You’re gonna get us caught.” Roman raised his head from the back of the couch. Virgil walked over to the creative side and crossed his arms.

“Get caught for what?? Does someone wanna explain what the hell’s going on??” Virgil started to get frustrated as to why no one was giving him answers. Well, the answer to his question was about to come right now. The three sides then heard Patton make his way towards the stairs whistling “Ring Around The Rosie”. Virgil then realized what was going on then ran behind the T.V.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me he was in a mood??” Virgil whispered angrily.

“We tried!” Logan whispered back. Patton’s footsteps seemed to get louder and louder until they finally stopped at the end of the stairs. The other three sides sat in pure silence as they tried to slow their breathing to keep the volume low.

“Oh boy, it’s so silent around here today, huh?” Patton thought out loud. Just the sound of Patton’s teasing voice made shivers go down Roman’s spine, a wave of nervousness wash over Logan and made Virgil’s heart start to race. Even though the entire living room was silent, Patton could still feel their presences in the area. There was usually three places the others preferred to hide in whenever they tried to escape from him.

1. Behind the kitchen table.

2. Behind the couch.

3. Behind the T.V.

So, Patton didn’t waste anytime in going for those places. Patton made his way toward the kitchen table and saw Logan had his back turned. Perfect. Patton snuck up behind him and used both of his pointer fingers to skratch on each side of his neck.

“Logan~...” Patton whispered in his ear. As soon as it registered in the logical side’s mind that the designated “tickle monster” of the Mind Palace had found him, he jumped up and ran towards the middle of the living room while rubbing the tingly feeling away from his neck. Patton merely walked slowly behind him.

“Aw where ya goin’, Logan?” Patton said way too innocently. Logan attempted to not look nervous as he straightened his tie and fixed his glasses, however, Patton noticed his hands were shaking.

“Patton, you don’t want to do this.” Logan tried to hide his smile.

“Oh? And why is that, L?” Patton smirked.

“Well um... you haven’t found Roman yet. Maybe he’d be more equip to help you release your beast.” Logan looked around, avoiding Patton’s hungry gaze.

“Very true. Do you know where he might be? Maybe if I find him, I can get a 2-for-1! How’s that sound, Logeybear?” Patton started to walk towards Logan.

“Patton. No.” Logan’s serious tone wasn’t TAKEN seriously because of the slight hesitation in his voice.

“Patton. Yes.” Patton fingers attached to Logan’s sides but before they could move, Logan snitched.

“HE’S BEHIND THE COUCH!” As soon as the words left his mouth, Roman gasped but didn’t stand up. Patton heard it as he turned his head slowly and walked to crawl onto the couch and bend his head down over the top to see a very blushy creative side laying on his back.

“Oh! Hi, Roman, sweetheart! I didn’t see ya there! I should probably thank Logan for helping me find you. Now I do get my 2-for-1! C’mere you!” Patton reached over to grab Roman’s sash yet he was too quick and attempted to crawl away but Patton grabbed his ankle.

“NO! GO FIND VIRGIL! HE’S BEHIND THE T.V!” Roma started squirming around.

“No he’s isn’t...” Logan said dumbfounded as he saw the anxious side was no longer in his classic hiding spot.

“That’s impossible I saw him run there a moment ago.” Roman argued. Patton let the both of them go.

“Both of you, gigglebugs. Stay put on the couch. I’ll be back.” Both Logan and Roman looked at each other then back at Patton nervously. Then both flinched and hmph-ed as Patton did a fake-out with his hands out as claws.

Before he even made his way to the staircase, he saw, out the corner of his eye, movement come from the kitchen and into the laundry room. But he stayed put. Arms at his side, staring at the other two sides and winked at them.

Virgil had assumed that since there was no noise or laughter coming from any part of the house, Patton gave up and went somewhere else. As did Logan and Roman. So carefully, Virgil made his way out of the laundry room but didn’t bother to look around. As soon as he stood up straight to look into the living room, he saw a sight too frightening for any side to handle. Patton’s head snapped as quickly as it could to the side to stare at Virgil with a desperately hungry smirk on his face. Virgil’s face went pale, as did Logan and Roman’s at the sight of Patton’s action.

“Hello.” Patton said. Virgil wasted no time in running to the stairs but he couldn’t make it up one since Patton’s arms wrapped around his midsection, lifting him up in the air.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?!” Patton gently dropped Virgil onto the floor of the living room and grabbed his wrists, held them above his head and unzipped his hoodie.

“Now Virgil, you, of all people, should know better than to try and run away from the Tickle Monster.” Patton lifted his shirt up and laid one hand on Virgil’s bare tummy. Virgil started squirming instantly.

“Pahahat please, I’m sohohohorry. I didn’t know yohohohou were in a mood today.” Virgil softly pleaded. Patton internally awwed at his dark, strange son.

“Well I forgive you.” Patton ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair to calm him down. “BUT I still have to teach you a lesson...”

“I can’t watch!” Roman hid his face in Logan’s shoulder who was obviously trying to avoid eye contact as well.

“Stay still, now!” Patton’s fingers dug deep into the center of Virgil’s tummy, wasting no time in making him scream. Logan and Roman both flinched at the noise. Roman still refused to look.

“PATTON GEHEHEHET AWAHAHAHAHAHAY!!”

“Who’s this ‘Patton’ you speak of, kiddo? I’m the Tickle Monster!” Patton playfully growled and continued his work. Virgil twisted his torso side to side but that didn’t stop Patton from following his every move. He went from the center of his tummy to his hips, sides, lower tummy and armpits. However, he saved one place for last. His favorite place of Virgil’s. Though he was as ticklish there as he was on his hips, Patton definitely knew ways to make him cry tears of mirth when he got to that place.

After about 5 minutes on Virgil’s tummy, Patton finally stopped to give him a break. Patton watched as he took deep breaths, let out residual giggles, and tossed his head to the side to move away some of his curls from his face. As much as it wanted to, Patton’s tickle monster facade didn’t break at the sight of Virgil’s dimples that rarely came out.

“Ahahare we dohohone? Please tehehell me we’re dohohone!” Virgil giggled out. Patton merely shook his head.

“Not yet, Giggles. I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet. And besides, we got one more place to get before this is over.” Patton smirked and raised Virgil’s shirt more to expose his ribs. Patton ran his pointer finger along each rib, up and down, up and down. Virgil started kicking.

“Patton please no!”

“I don’t know who ‘Patton’ is, sweetheart! Now, let me ask you a question, Virge. What’s one of the most common ways to jumpscare a person?” Patton asked all too innocently.

“Encounter you in a ler mood?” Virgil tried to sound snarky but Patton saw right through him as he narrowed his eyes and squeezed down hard on Virgil’s right side and he screamed.

“No. Try again.”

“I don’t knohohow! Maybe sahahaying ‘boo’?” Patton smiled.

“What a little genius you are! Now, how ‘bout we test out that theory just to make sure you’re still correct. I’m sure Logan would appreciate this, wouldn’t you, honey?” Logan looked his way and cringed as his blush grew more noticeable. Patton winked at him then turned his attention back to Virgil.

“Ready?” Virgil shook his head.

“Too bad. BOO!” With that, Patton pinched at one of Virgil’s ribs and he squealed and jumped. He tried to make it seem like that didn’t scare him a bit but that failed. Patton kept it up though.

“BOO!” Patton pinched another one of his ribs, which gave him the same reaction. He let go of Virgil’s other hand so he could use both of his to pinch at each rib. Virgil was too worn out to defend himself so he laid there and took it.

“BOO! BOO! BOO!” Patton kept up the pinching and sometimes gentle scratching at Virgil’s ribs and in between each bone for a lovely 10 minutes. Virgil was beet red in the face, tears fell down his cheeks as his smile shone bright.

“PAHAHAHATTON PLEHEHEASE!! NOHOHOHO MORE!! NOHOHO MORE TICKLES!!” Virgil giggled out. Patton started giggling too.

“BOO! BOHOHO! BOHOHOHO! BOO!” Virgil finally built up the energy to wrap his arms around his midsection.

“NO MORE TIHIHICKLES!” Patton smiled and backed off and let Virgil breathe. He wiped away the tears from his cheeks, zipped his hoodie back up and moved the curls away from his face properly.

“Alright fine. No more tickles... for now.” With that, Patton blew a small raspberry on Virgil cheek and the side squealed and crawled away toward the T.V to continue to regroup.

“Now! Who’s next? I think it should be our dear Logan. It’s not nice to tattletale on your family, Lo.” Patton playfully scolded. Logan ran up the stairs as fast as he could.

#fanfic #sanders sides tickle #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #moxiety #ler!patton #lee!virgil #my writing #anonymous #tickle fic #tickle community

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writearctic · 4 years

Text

An Effort to Love (a) (m) - Seo Changbin

wc: 1.2k

please remember that you deserve the effort you give. if love turns lonely, let it go.

When Changbin entered your apartment, he found you peacefully asleep under the covers. He smiled and sighed; you were pure innocence to him. He always found himself returning to you when he needed to refresh.

A return to reality. No extremities. Just you and him. Good, clean sex as a restart from his line of quickies. His typical one night stands were good- fantastic when compared to your simplicity- and it made him feel alive. But the women he'd meet always wanted more.

Not you. You weren't expecting something from him. It was nothing more than sex. No strings attached. Because it was just simply you. You couldn't ever love him.

He sat at your bedroom desk and stared at your night light. Changbin was never one for relationships, but with you, he always found himself coming back even if just for the night.

His fingers began tapping the desktop anxiously. He had been away for a while. Changbin had been avoiding you: keeping himself busy sleeping around with other girls. Now, here he was. Back to his best friend. Or rather, friend with benefits.

You stirred in your sleep; Changbin turned to you but kept his fingers clicking on the desk. You heard the faint beatings and sat up rubbing your eyes.

"Bin," you croaked. There was a quick, rigid silence between you. "Hi." You didn't intend for Changbin to hear the difference in your tone. Your voice was much softer and almost breakable the second time.

"You're well?" He asked as an offer to fill the silent space. Changbin never fully looked at you anymore; it was always quick glances here and there. You couldn't complain though. You wouldn't complain in fear of losing him.

"Mhm yeah. How are you?" You placed your hands in your lap effortlessly and twiddled your thumbs in circles.

"I'm fine. Been to lots of new places lately," he chuckled.

"Oh? Like-"

"There's this new girl, Rosie, and oh my gosh. She gave me the best blow I've ever had." Changbin leaned back in your desk chair and closed his eyes obviously trying to relive the moment.

You were disgusted. Changbin had never talked about a girl with you before- you figured he respected your boundaries about his hobbies- but finally hearing him mention someone in such perverted regards enraged you.

It angered you because he may have found someone to stay. Someone who wasn't you.

You clenched your hands around the blanket- white knuckles.

"Oh and she has a room mate who-"

His voice faded. You couldn't make out the words from his mouth. You stared at him with glossy eyes hoping he'd look at you like he used to. But no. The short passes of his eyes continued to drift away from you. I don't even know you anymore, you realized.

"Changbin!" You shouted and threw your hands on your comforter with a plop.

"Hu-hm?" You startled him; Changbin was nervous. He finally faced you completely. It was still dark aside from your night light, but you could see him fairly well. And he saw you much the same.

The luminescent light framed his face perfectly; it made you see features about him you haven't noticed before. His lashes were shining from the natural oils that covered them. His skin glowed softly in an ethereal way. It was gentle like moon.

"Do you ever think about maybe staying around with me like you used to?" Your voice was normal now, but the tone was sharp. Even speaking to him like that made your eyes sting with tears.

"What?" Changbin scoffed at your question. "What do you mean 'like you used to?'" He crossed his arms defensively as if to shut you out.

"Like at the beginning of uni." You sounded pathetic but paid no mind to it. You were on a roll and determined to save the possibilities of what you two could be. "You know... when we'd have movie night every Thursday. And you'd walk me home after classes, ask about my day, or if I've eaten. Or even text me!"

He smirked. "Baby."

"Don't say that unless you understand what it means to me," you spat at him. You were certainly not like one of his late-night hook ups who fell for whatever tricks he gave.

He scoffed again. "I don't stick around. You, of all people, should know this best."

"I know, I do. But you used to spend time with me and make an effort to do so." You whined, and it pinched a nerve in the boy.

"Well, yeah. Cause it was your first year here," Changbin shrugged. "You needed a shoulder to lean on. Everyone does their first year. Truth is, y/n. I really wanted to stay friends with you. But then you grew up. Gosh, you're absolutely stunning now. And when you actually agreed to have sex with me? Oh my. It was like winning the lottery! You are simple in bed, and I love it when I need it. But that's kinda who we are now. I really didn't see a reason for us to be anything other than friends with benefits."

"What if I don't want that!?" You cried. The tears finally began pooling out of your eyes. Here he was, the man you've been crushing on for... well a while, saying you were nothing more than a use for "simple sex." You weren't even sure if that was an insult or not.

"What do you mean? You said 'yes' to sex with me." He asked. His eyebrows curled at your tearful response.

"Because I thought we'd be something more!"

It was quiet again, except for your small sobs which Changbin didn't seem to notice. He started the unrhythmic tapping of his fingers once more and became lost in thought. There's always strings attached, he noted to himself.

Your knuckles were white again as you clenched your fists against a pillow. You realized whenever you were with Changbin nowadays, your knuckles always turned white.

"I deserve to be chosen, not merely considered when you need to f*ck." Your eyes shot venom at him. His light tappings on the wood stopped abruptly. Your tone stung his heart just as much as it did yours. You were different now. You had grown up, and Changbin completely missed that detail.

"You're right." Changbin stood and collected his coat. "You're right," he echoed quietly.

"Wait, Bin." You stumbled out of bed and rushed to follow Changbin. "Don't leave, no. Please." You weren't crying anymore; you were heaving.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I've been using you. It's not right, and you know it." He shuffled to put his shoes on while you bit your inner cheek. "Thank you for showing me how much of a jerk I've been. I'm sorry; I need to go."

Changbin's fingers gripped the doorknob; he walked out of your life like you were nothing. You slumped to the floor in pain. You sent away the only friend you had at uni, even if you really weren't friends anymore.

"I shouldn't have said anything," you cried to the walls that trapped you. "I don't want to lose you." It was a whisper now. You were dehydrated from the spills of tears. Your nose was runny, and your lips were chapped. You were a mess because of the boy you should've loved just a little harder.

#kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fic #kpop drabbles #kpop angst #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids changbin #stray kids angst #fwb au

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unknown--error-404 · 4 years

Text

See Me - Imaginary Friend! AU

Choi Yeonjun (TXT) X Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 4,612

Warnings: violence, mentions of abuse

Genre: kinda yandere, a bit fluffy

Yeonjun was your bestest friend and sworn protector... Until you grew up. However, when things got hairy with your new lover, Yeonjun found that he simply couldn’t just stand to the side...

A/N: When I wrote this, it was entirely self-indulgent, so I apologize if the storyline is a bit strange 😅 “Can’t You See Me?” heavily inspired this, so...

Life was great.

All you ever needed was each other.

Ever since you were young, you and Yeonjun would always hang out. It was as if you were attached by the hip. He was always your playmate. He was there with you from daycare to high school. You two would always find places unpopulated by the other kids so you could enjoy each other’s company and do your own thing in peace.

You and Yeonjun made wonderful memories… The first snow? You experienced it together. Moving from grade school to junior high? You were together. Traveling out of town for vacation? He was there with you…

He was your only friend, and you were his only friend.

Yeonjun watched you grow up, and he never felt as close to anyone as he did with you. While you poked fun at him for dyeing his hair strange colors, he, instead, complimented you as you bloomed into beauty. To Yeonjun, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

To him, you were all that mattered.

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that he absolutely loved you.

He loved spending every minute of his waking day with you. To be your 24/7 comfort was a true dream. If the world was mean to you, he was waiting for you with an open heart — he was your escape. He was your protector.

And he loved being your protector.

A lot of times, in the dead of night, you and Yeonjun would talk for hours… Mainly just you talking about your day and what went right and what went wrong. He’d listen, and he knew he’d never get tired of listening. Sometimes, you’d ask him about himself, which would throw him off guard because he mainly wanted to focus on you, but, nonetheless, he was happy to tell you a little about himself too. Those nights often ended with him wishing you a good night and staying with you until you fell asleep.

Those were the nights he felt closest to you, and he wouldn’t have traded them for the world…

But then, you went to college.

Then, you grew up.

Then, you made friends.

You had less and less time for Yeonjun as the months went by. Yeonjun watched as he gradually got locked away in your mind. Sometimes, you would think about him, but it was never enough to bring him into full fruition. He watched helplessly from your mind’s eye as you hung out with your friends, finding joy in their company…

… The same joy that you felt before when you were only in his company.

It hurt Yeonjun as he watched your new life with your new friends from the depths of your mind. He grew increasingly jealous and felt increasingly helpless at how close your friends were to you, both mentally and physically… He envied their physical forms, being able to truly feel your presence and your touch… Sometimes, he’d hear you talk about him with your friends, but only in a passing matter. At this point, to you, Yeonjun was merely a conversation starter — a topic to bring up with your friends when there was nothing else to say.

The thought that you were each other’s worlds at one point in your lives hurt Yeonjun, especially now that you only saw him as a phase that you grew out of.

It hurt him that you now deemed him as truly imaginary.

It hurt Yeonjun even more when he found you catching feelings for some random person in your class…

He read the texts through your eyes… He felt your heart race whenever that person was near… He knew the feelings you held for that classmate…

It was clear to Yeonjun that he had been replaced.

The only solace Yeonjun could find while trapped in your mind was the reruns of the memories you had together. Sometimes, when you were dreaming, he’d run through your dreamworld just to find you… See you, talk to you, feel you…

It was always bittersweet when you woke up in the morning… Bittersweet to him, at least, as you’d always forget him once you left your dreamworld.

~ ~ ~

Yeonjun sniffled as he watched another memory of you and him together. Pushing his yellow hair up and out of his face, he briefly rubbed his sleeve over his eyes to dry his tears.

He found himself spending more time in your long term memory as of recent; it hurt less than living in your present and experiencing your daily life with the knowledge that he wasn’t at the forefront of your mind. Sometimes, he’d enter your dreamworlds, but he stopped doing that frequently as the pain of knowing you’d forget him in the morning was becoming too much for him to bear.

He came across another memory, one where you and him were fairly young. You were crying over a nasty bug that had crawled onto one of your toys. Emulating the role of your protector, Yeonjun knocked the bug off your toy and squashed it. With the horrid deed done, you cheered and praised Yeonjun for his bravery, calling him your hero.

A small smile came to Yeonjun’s face as he remembered his sole purpose of being your protector. He used to be able to do so much to protect you, like manifest a spectral form that could mess with any physical object except people… Now all he could do was just feed your mind some positive thoughts about yourself and your situations, protecting you from detrimental negative concepts.

Suddenly, Yeonjun felt your heart rate pick up, and it wasn’t in the good “stomach-full-of-butterlies” way.

Genuinely concerned, Yeonjun left your long term memory and went to your present mind. His eyes widened when he connected with your senses, immersing himself in your situation.

“Stop that!” You screeched. Your lover, the classmate, had just forcefully shoved a handful of fragile sentimental objects off your top shelf, smashing them. You let out a scream as they broke all over the floor.

“Or what?!” Yelled your lover back. “You need to be taught a lesson! What makes you think you can just go around and hang out with other guys behind my back?!”

“Realize, I’m my own person?!” You shouted. You let out another scream as your lover threw your hairbrush at you. Thanks to your reflexes, you dodged it, but your brush broke on impact with the wall.

Your lover hadn’t acted like this before, although there was some red flags along the way… But they never seemed too major. Overall, to you, this situation was so strange — and scary…

“I can hang out with other people if I want to, you don’t own me!” You fearfully spat. Your lover glowered at you, marching closer to you. “I don’t understand why this is a problem… Don’t you trust me?! You hang out with hot people all the time, and I’m never worried that you might cheat! What makes this situation any different?!”

Anger radiated off of your lover. Fearfully, you backed yourself against the wall as your lover drew closer, ultimately getting up in your face.

Danger signals were going off in your mind and in Yeonjun’s. His breath caught in his throat as he watched your classmate back you against the wall.

Yeonjun was supposed to be your protector. Now that you needed him, why was he still trapped in your mind?

Intense emotions began to swirl within the boy, so intense that he began to get a splitting headache. His hands gripped his head as he thought over and over: “I must protect my friend. I must protect my friend. I must protect my friend…”

Yeonjun began to see red as static filled his ears and his mind. However, he was brought out of the painful experience when your bickering with your classmate trickled back into his ears.

“You went out to a party with these strangers!” Yelled your lover.

“You went to parties with those hot people!”

Your lover snarled.

“Going to a party with those guys?! It’s like you’re ASKING for it! I thought I was dating someone who was innocent. NOT someone who wants ATTENTION!” You were absolutely flabbergasted at your lover’s claim.

“Excuse me?” You shouted, jaw to the floor and incredulous. There was no way your lover was getting out of that comment unscathed. “Well, at least I’m not the one who’s SO hypocritical and insecure about my lover’s whereabouts that I’d shout, make baseless claims, and destroy things all because of my weak and petty personality!” The glare in your lover’s eyes grew even more intense as your words hung in the air.

In an instant, your lover’s fist was raised.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened as he watched your classmate from your mind.

The fist came in and landed deathly close to your head. You flinched away and looked to where your lover’s fist landed. Eyes widening in fear, you regarded the new, large hole in your wall.

“Next time, that’s going to be your face,” spat your lover. You stiffened upon hearing those words. Instant fear filled your body, and something instinctual told you that your lover wasn’t done with this argument just yet.

Upon witnessing the alarming events, something snapped inside Yeonjun’s mind.

…

Someone outwardly threatening you…?

Pure anger and deadly emotion surged through Yeonjun as he glared daggers at your classmate from your mind. Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, a feeling more intense and tangible than, but also akin to fiery determination filled his being. He felt the beginnings of a headache, and red began to blot his vision. Static began to rush into his ears and mind…

… But then, he blacked out.

~ ~

Yeonjun awoke to a start.

Shooting up from his laying position, he found himself hidden among trees.

He knew where he was… He was in the patch of trees deemed the “mini forest” on your campus…

Looking down at his hands, he was shocked to find a tangible human body.

His body…

Slowly, he got up. He took a few steps, but it took him a bit to become steady with his footing. He brushed off some stray leaves and dirt on his clothes from laying on the ground. Leaning against a tree, he shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows as he rode out the last of that splitting headache experience. Once it was gone, there was room for Yeonjun’s first thoughts in his human body.

His mind immediately snapped to the thought of you being in danger because of your crazy classmate.

Yeonjun found himself breaking into a sprint. Your college campus seemed so familiar as he ran, making his way to your greek life building.

There was no time for him to ponder his situation: how he came to be… Not when you were in danger.

Panting, he found himself in front of the greek life group building you belonged to. He was about to march straight to the door when the thought occurred to him that he should probably arm himself. If this crazy classmate was dangerous enough to threaten punching you in the face, what more could that crazy classmate do? As your protector, Yeonjun didn’t want to take any chances.

He knew your greek life building had a tool shed. Rounding the building to the side, he opened it up easily and grabbed the nearest thing: a crowbar.

Making his way back to the front of your greek life building, he hid the tool behind his back as he rung the doorbell. Yeonjun decided that it would be better to see if he could talk things out first. He valued diplomacy over violence, violence only being a last option — a value he learned from you. He was different than your crazy, violent classmate.

Yeonjun thought that he was certainly better for you than your crazy classmate was.

He definitely would treat you better.

Your lover’s head whipped around to look toward your bedroom door upon hearing the doorbell ring.

“You’re expecting someone?” your lover seethed. You shook your head rapidly, scared.

“No one! No one I swear!” You whimpered. Thankfully, your pitiful display was convincing enough as your lover just scoffed and walked away to answer the door.

“Stay here,” your lover forcefully commanded before leaving. Knees finally caving in, you felt yourself begin to cry over the events that just happened. However, you did your best to stifle your cries so as to not further fuel your lover’s anger.

Your lover opened the door to your greek life building to find a strange, yellow-haired, young adult boy standing there. They made eye contact, and your lover arched an eyebrow at him.

“What do you want?” questioned your lover.

“To see a friend,” replied Yeonjun simply.

“Why?”

“Just to check.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“You already know who,” Yeonjun replied, staring directly into your lover’s eyes with a hellfire burning brightly behind his own. At this, your lover’s anger broke through, eyebrows furrowing.

“Fat chance, buddy!” spat your lover, attempting to slam the door shut. However, your lover wasn’t strong enough as Yeonjun shoved the door back open so he could enter. As he kicked it closed, your lover came at him and grabbed his jacket roughly.

Hearing all this noise, you couldn’t keep in place, so you slowly crept out to peek at what was going on.

“What’s your deal, huh?! You have no business here!” Your lover growled. Yeonjun returned your lover’s animalistic look, the anger from witnessing your situation beginning to boil over within him.

“Get your hands off me!” Yeonjun shouted, wrenching your lover’s hands off his jacket. At this, your lover decided to come back at Yeonjun with a punch. With all diplomacy out the window (Yeonjun decided there was no negotiating with this man.), Yeonjun resorted to violence.

As your lover drew near with a punch at the ready, Yeonjun ducked out of the way. However, your lover, reacting quickly, turned the first punch into a feint, and struck Yeonjun in the face with a surprise blow with the other hand. Yeonjun stilled, straightening his posture from the hit as your lover backed up to a fighting position.

The sensation of physical pain was quite strange to Yeonjun, leaving his cheek stinging and himself a bit confused at first. However, that confusion soon turned to anger as a thought came to his mind:

You would’ve felt this awful pain had your lover actually punched you.

His glare intensifying, Yeonjun watched as your lover sprang forward to continue the fight. He moved to dodge again, but, this time, he was smart about his movements.

In the midst of his dodging maneuver, Yeonjun turned and swung the crowbar he had been hiding behind him like a baseball bat, striking a harsh blow to your lover’s side. Your lover reeled in pain and doubled over.

Unable to take the hit standing, your lover flopped on the ground like a fish, curling up in pain. Yeonjun turned around to see the now fearful lover, gasping for air.

“See what it’s like? To feel powerless? To be in fear?” Yeonjun spat, his mind still angrily reeling over your emotions he felt while witnessing the argument you had with the brute on the floor. Your lover rolled over to look up at Yeonjun, having the audacity to smile despite being scared.

“And what was this all for?” Your lover questioned. “‘Your friend?’” Yeonjun just stared down at your lover who let out a pained, condescending laugh. “Should’ve known bae was up to something…” your lover muttered to no one, digressing. “What a harlot… Should’ve been more violent from the start-“ Yeonjun’s eyes widened as his grip tightened on the crowbar.

“What did you say?!” He snapped.

“-just like with my previous relationships.”

Yeonjun grit his teeth upon hearing your lover’s admittance to being abusive in the past. No innocent souls deserved to be treated like that. Your lover’s attention returned to Yeonjun as he grit a sentence through his teeth.

“What. Did. You. Say?” Yeonjun questioned again, tone murderous. Your crazy lover just smiled upon getting him even more riled up.

“I. Said,” began your lover, mocking Yeonjun’s speech. “I. Should’ve been. More abusive. To. ‘Your friend,’ the harlot.” Your lover smirked when Yeonjun’s lip twitched in ire. “Just as I had been in my-“

“Shut up! Yeonjun shouted in fury, swinging the crowbar to strike your lover across the face. Despite getting struck, your lover still had the nastiest grin on, mouthing the word “harlot” that didn’t go unnoticed by Yeonjun.

Anger turned into pure hatred and boiled over within Yeonjun’s being, him beginning to repetitively strike your lover’s face.

“People. Like. You. Don’t. Deserve. ANYTHING!” Viciously whispered Yeonjun, bringing down the crowbar on every word he spoke, more power behind every strike.

As Yeonjun kept going, your lover went from sickly grinning, to trying to block his strikes, to trying to shift out of the way, then to finally just twitching underneath him. Yeonjun was relentless with the crowbar. He didn’t stop when it began to get messy. He didn’t stop when he felt your lover’s attitude change mid-melee. He didn’t stop when his anger was satiated. And he didn’t even stop to when your lover was reduced to a twitching body mass.

He only stopped when your lover stopped moving.

There was a threat that would’ve harmed you, and, as your protector, Yeonjun had to eliminate that threat.

Panting, Yeonjun began to catch his breath as he stepped away from the red mess on the floor. Unconsciously, he wiped at the bottom corner of his lip, unknowingly rubbing off some red on his cheek. He regarded the crowbar covered in red at the end. He regarded his hands splattered with red. He regarded his clothes, but, due to his clothes being black, the red stains that splattered on them weren’t visible. He then took a few steps away from the mess, being careful to not step in any red.

Then, a shuffling sound off to the side caught his attention, and he turned his head to spot you on the top step of the staircase. Your eyes were wide, and you were breathing heavily, your hand covering your mouth as you shook.

You had seen it all.

From the moment your classmate punched that yellow-haired man to the moment the yellow-haired guy stopped smashing your classmate’s face in, you had seen it all. Honestly, you weren’t terrified that your classmate was sent to the next world’s judgement, but you were terrified of the chance that the yellow-haired guy was going to do the same thing to you.

You locked eyes with the yellow-haired guy, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Despite knowing the dangerous situation, your “fight or flight” response broke, leaving you sitting there like a deer in headlights. He began to walk over to you, and you could only watch as he drew near. His angry look softened and a small smile spread across his face as he got closer. Still terrified, you put your arms out in defense as you looked away, your reflexes curling you into a ball.

“D-Don’t hurt me, please!” You babbled, bracing yourself for a hit…

… But it never came.

“Hey,” said an oddly familiar voice. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You peaked through your arms to find the yellow-haired guy crouching in front of you. Bringing your arms down, you found him to be still smiling at you, his now soft look contrasting the angry one he held earlier. Upon closer examination of his face, you found him to be quite familiar…

His face…

The voice…

The… Yellow hair…

Crazy hair color…

Suddenly, a thought shot though your head like a bullet. You knew who this guy was! Your eyes widened upon the realization.

“Yeon… jun…?” You breathed out in question. His face immediately lit up upon hearing his name, further shocking you that your guess was right.

“You remember,” he sighed in relief. You were still flabbergasted at his human appearance…

How was this possible?? How did your imaginary friend come to life?? Why was he here right now??

Yeonjun got up and was moving like he was about to hug you.

“Wait, wait!” You said, putting your hands out to stop him. He stopped in confusion. “Your…” you began, finishing your sentence with gesturing at his black jacket, the crowbar, and his hands.

“Oh…” muttered Yeonjun in understanding, wiping his hands off on the sleeves of his black jacket.

“… Here, let me take you to the bathroom,” you spoke warily, grabbing his free, newly cleaned hand. Feeling your hand intertwine with his made Yeonjun’s heart skip a beat, and you (strangely) couldn’t deny a small blush rising to your cheeks at the contact too.

Once in the bathroom, you dampened a few paper towels for Yeonjun in which he used to clean the crowbar, his shoes, and any red stains that got on his skin from removing his jacket. He then turned his jacket inside out and wrapped the crowbar within as you flushed the used paper towels down the toilet. After Yeonjun swaddled the crowbar, he then moved to wash his hands. As your attention returned to your somehow human imaginary friend, you noticed he still had red smeared on his face.

“Oh, Yeonjun, you…” you began again, getting his attention. Once again, you finished your sentence with gestures, the current situation too bizarre for you to find the proper words to string into a cohesive sentence. Fear in the back of your mind asking “What now?” also prevented you from thinking straight and speaking straight. Making a rubbing motion over your cheek, Yeonjun looked at the mirror and noticed the red smudge. He then moved to grab a paper towel, but you stopped him.

“Here, I’ll get it,” you offered, acting quick. Yeonjun watched as you grabbed a paper towel and dampened it. Turning to face him, you moved your hand up to his face, rubbing off the red fairly easily. Though you were concentrated on the red smudge, your eyes occasionally found their way to Yeonjun’s.

As you cleaned his face, they watched you the whole time. The few times they met, you could see how soft they were as they gazed at you, a strong, deep feeling running behind their puppy brown color.

It was hard to believe that those same eyes held enough anger to murder your lover-classmate.

Once you were done, you properly disposed of the paper towel by flushing it down the toilet, using your foot to push down the handle. Sighing, you tried your best not to freak out at the current situation. (At least the murder victim in this case was a scumbag that probably has past charges from being abusive.) Yeonjun’s mind, on the other hand, was still spinning from feeling your touch for the first time. Missing it already, Yeonjun moved to your side and took your hand in his.

Feeling his touch caused you to snap out of your nervous thoughts and look at him again. You found him pressing your hand to his cheek, nestling into the palm of your hand. Under the moonlight, he looked so serene and relaxed in your touch. For some reason, the sight was enough to make you forget your current situation and cause your heart to melt.

He looked just like a cuddly puppy.

“I’ve often pondered about touch…” he whispered dreamily. “What it feels like… Why it’s so important… Why it’s so engaging…” He then opened his eyes, but only halfway. “Now I know why…”

“Yeonjun…” you sighed, touched and not knowing what to say, but also slightly panicked because of what just happened. Yeonjun could sense the panic in your voice and he straightened up, eyes fully opening.

“I swear I won’t do anything like this again,” he spoke quickly and clearly, not wanting to lose you to your panic. “I was just scared for your well-being! I just wanna protect you… I don’t wanna lose you again…” He trailed off. Yeonjun then looked down as he tried to find his words, taking in a breath. “I promise, I’ll be good to you… I’ll be good for you too! Whatever makes you happy…” His hold on your hand tightened slightly as he said this, wanting to show his conviction.

“You promise?” You repeated. He looked up to meet your eyes, nodding vehemently.

“Do you believe me?” He asked, tilting his head in question. You hesitated for a bit, unsure. But then, your mind shot forward multiple memories of Yeonjun and you in the past, him always being by your side and never leaving you when you needed him. Realizing his conviction, you sighed though your nose before you brought your other hand up to hold his other cheek.

“You were able to protect me before from so many things for so long, so, yes, I believe you,” you said, giving him a small smile.

Hearing you speak those words brought so much joy to Yeonjun. In an instant, he dropped the swaddled crowbar and brought you into a tight hug, pulling you into him. One arm wrapped around the small of your back while the other supported your mid and upper back. You were shocked at the action at first, but then you slowly wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug. His head was buried in the junction of your shoulder.

“I missed you…” he muttered into the crook of your neck, “so, so much…”

It was then something awakened in you, making you realize that you missed him deeply too. You missed the connection you had with him… You missed your protector, your number one hero, who was always there for you whenever you needed him. Sighing through your nose, you leaned your head on his affectionately, beginning to rub soothing circles on his back.

“I missed you too,” you told him, causing him to hug you tighter. You both stayed hugging under the moonlight from the bathroom window for a bit, you enjoying being held by someone who actually cares for you and Yeonjun becoming intoxicated by your touch. After a minute or so, Yeonjun pulled back so he could hold your face in his hands. Leaning forward, you and him shut your eyes simultaneously as you touched foreheads.

“It feels good to be by your side again…” whispered Yeonjun, holding you, his world, in his hands. You brought your hands up to gently layer on top of his. You were about to say something when the faint sound of sirens reached your ears.

Jolting away from you, Yeonjun looked toward the bathroom door before he looked back at you.

He knew what his job was.

He knew what he had to do.

Turning around, Yeonjun snatched the swaddled crowbar off of the bathroom floor. He then took your hand in his, pulling you out of the room. Carefully and quickly walking through the hall, he came to your bedroom. He worked with speed as he covered his hands with his shirt, opening the window. Stepping out onto the low roof, Yeonjun turned around and offered you his hand.

“C’mon, we need to go,” he said. You took his hand, letting him guide you to the low roof. Yeonjun easily cleared the jump from the low roof to the grass of your greek life building’s lawn, but, to you, it was too high for jumping. He patiently waited as you climbed down, but, when you were close enough to him, he grabbed your waist and picked you up.

“Don’t look up,” he told you, placing you back down on the ground. You were thankful for that tip as it not only hid your face from the cameras, but also helped hide the red blush that bloomed on your cheeks upon feeling his hands on your waist. Yeonjun then took your hand in his once again.

“Now, run away with me,” he whispered into your ear. Before the words could register in your head, the sudden jolt of him sprinting lurched you forward to match his pace. Sirens went off in the background once again. Though distant… This time, they sounded closer.

“It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. We’ll get through this together,” he reassured. “I’ll protect you…”

“I won’t let anybody hurt you ever again.”

#kpop au #kpop txt #kpop multistan #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #soobin #choi soobin #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #taehyun #kang taehyun #heuningkai #jung kai #kai kamal huening #yandere

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years

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For You: 4 O’Clock

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @jamies-kpop-reactions

Chapter 14: A Fool

By the time Taemin’s lips parted from mine, the fireworks overhead had almost entirely ceased, and most cars had vacated the parking lot below.

Breathless, I was almost hesitant to meet the glittering galaxies gathered in Taemin’s eyes, all too aware of the likelihood that I would spend the rest of the evening or the rest of my life aimlessly wandering through them. However, as you know by now, I could never resist the allure of Taemin’s other-worldly beauty.

His eyes smiled at me as his hands moved to cup my cheeks. “Do you want to do it again?” His laughter dissolved all tension in the air.

Before pecking at his grin, I hummed, “Maybe later!”

Narrowly escaping Taemin’s effort to catch me in another thousand-year kiss, I grabbed my mask from its corner and frowned at the high heels that were entirely responsible for the dull ache in my ankle.

“You don’t have to put them back on,” Taemin said, following my gaze. “I’ll carry you to my car and drive you home.” When I hesitated to climb onto his back because I had been too tall for piggyback rides for as long as I could remember, he pouted, begging, “Let me give you one drama-worthy moment, jagi. Please?”

There was no way to deny him whatever he wanted when he looked at me like that— like I alone held the key to his happiness in the palm of my hand. Setting aside my discomfort, abandoning my fear of heights (or, more accurately, my fear of falling from a height), I secured my hold around him. Releasing a deep breath, I laid my head on his shoulder.

Quietly, as if he thought that I had fallen asleep in the span of just a few seconds and he didn’t wish to wake me, Taemin asked, “Are you sleepy?”

“No,” I whispered, although my blinking eyelids had gone heavy with fatigue in the aftermath of the party’s highs and lows. “You’re just really warm, so you’re a good cuddle buddy.”

The smile on his face was audible as he repeated, “Cuddle buddy?” I wish I had opened my eyes to admire his smile, to watch if it grew when I dropped a feather-light kiss on the crook of his neck.

Delighted by the subtle shiver that ran down his spine at the sweet contact, I hoped that my voice carried my smile to him when he couldn’t quite see me. “What’s gonna happen to the blanket and the lights and—” I gasped.

Taemin’s body stiffened. He glanced back at my widened eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Your rose—” tears gathered in my eyes with the sudden sharp blow of winter wind— “I left it behind. I must have dropped it when you kissed me. I must have been too happy to hold on, and now—”

As soon as he set me on my feet beside his car, Taemin kissed each of my cheeks. Before any tear could fall, he promised, “I’ll go get it.” He held his keys out to me. “I’ll be right back, okay? Please don’t cry. It’s our happy night.”

I parrotted the phrase, “Our happy night.” A smile broke across my face while I cursed myself for my embarrassing attachment to symbols like the rose. But then, it was easy to forget embarrassment when Taemin smiled at me.

Looking back, I think that he must have planned all along to return to our rooftop place to retrieve the blanket and the lights and his mask. In that moment, though, I was so giddy with the thought that Taemin had retraced our path just for the sake of the rose that I greeted his return with a broad grin that he hopefully appreciated in the two seconds before I caught his lips with mine.

“You kissed me,” Taemin gasped as if it were the first time. Holding the rose out to me, he asked, “Will you do it again in exchange for a flower?”

I don’t know what came over me. In all of my life, I had never been an excessively smiley, giggly sort of person, but my cheeks ached from smiling that night. My laughter seemed to have lost all meaning, but I kept laughing anyway. All I can say, I guess, is that Taemin’s kiss made me happy. Too happy. Happier than I had ever been.

Had there been a rational thought in my head that wasn’t centered around the boy in the diver’s seat, the boy determined to lace his fingers through mine as he drove down busy streets, the boy I trusted to lead me to new heights at any corner of the universe, I might have called myself cringeworthy.

At every point in my life, I had been prematurely fixated on the moment of goodbye. Maybe that was some sort of well-intentioned coping mechanism. I’m not sure. All I can tell you in hindsight is that I must have had no intention of parting ways with Taemin. Maybe in some corner of my mind— or in the entirety of my heart— I decided that the rest of the night would be spent in his company.

When he parked in the driveway of my house, I realized from the sheer number of cars that there was no way I would catch an hour of sleep. More importantly, there was no way I would have been able to lead Taemin into my room undetected. Within seconds, I pieced together that Super Junior had occupied my home to a.) celebrate the new year, b.) celebrate their years of friendship with Mom, and c.) to celebrate the union of Momhae.

When I relayed that information to Taemin, explaining what it meant for our sleeping arrangements, he suggested, “We can sleep together in my room at the SuperM house.”

From his smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes coupled with the dropping of his jaw when I eagerly nodded my head, I figured that Taemin hadn’t been entirely serious. No, Taemin was always serious about falling asleep together. He must have expected me to place some boundary against falling asleep together in his bed.

Sinking at the thought that I hadn’t explained how much I loved sleeping at his side, I dropped the rose onto my lap so I could trace stars on his knuckles. “I’m sorry if this sounds too clingy or dependent, Taemin, but I— I want to spend every night with you. Even when we go back to living separate daily lives after the tour is over, I want to spend the nights with you. That time when I get to remove my mask and lay my head on your chest and just exist—”

Taemin squeezed my hand and raised it to meet his kiss. I had to smile at that sweet gesture as my heart swelled and overflowed with affection. The fond wrinkles that formed around his eyes encouraged me to continue to confess, “That time holds me together. I— to tell you the truth, I don’t know what I would do if that time were to end.”

Taemin said, “It won’t,” so assuredly that the lump growing in my throat dissolved. Shallow lines etched into his forehead as he asked, “Why did you tell me all of those beautiful things, jagi?”

I shrugged, startled by my total lack of embarrassment as I met his twinkling eyes. “I just thought that it would be kind of tragic if you never knew what time with you means to me. Earlier, you asked me to tell you what I feel, and I— I’m going to try, but you should know that I feel a lot, and— if you could, I would like for you to kiss me when I ramble, please—”

Immediately, Taemin took the hint. He kissed me like he planned to feel my lips without the invitation.

. . .

“I like it when you’re like this,” Taemin said on our way up the stairs to his bedroom.

From my place on his back, I bit back my giggles for fear of waking the SuperM members who, judging by the almost eerie silence and empty driveway, weren’t even there. “Like what, Taem?” I kissed his temple, careful not to drop the champagne bottle he looted from the party onto the hardwood floor. “All over you?”

“Well, yeah.” He smirked as he kicked open the door to his pure white room. From first glance, it seemed to be a place beyond earth. “But I actually meant that I like it when you’re honest with me. I love it when you trust me with everything locked away in here.” His index finger tapped on an inch of skin exposed beneath my bangs when he set me down on the small sofa by the window.

The cushions were as light and fluffy as clouds. Maybe with Taemin, every day, in one way or another, I enacted my dream of being something that belongs in the sky.

“You’ve always been easy to trust,” I told him as he filled the space next to me. “I just— it’s hard to unlearn the habit of holding back. Just know that I’m going to trust you with everything in time.”

Taemin took the bottle of champagne, beaming. “I know. Thank you for trying for me.”

I rose onto my knees, sinking ever-so-slightly into the clouds, to peel back the silky curtains and raise the blinds. Shining brilliantly over our garden amid a shower of golden fireworks, the moon stared back at me and stole my breath away.

“You can see our garden well from here,” I observed as I sat back, careful not to disturb my aching ankle. “If I had a view like this from my room, then I probably never would have snuck out of my house.”

Taemin said, “Flowers aren’t meant to be admired through a window.”

And when I glanced over at him, I found that he was watching the moon just as intently as I always had. A part of me wanted to ask if he also dreamed of a day when he could reach out and feel the moon’s kiss on his fingertips. The answer was obvious the next time he looked into my eyes, though, so the question died on the tip of my tongue.

“I like it when you’re like this,” I said, unable to lift my voice above a whisper.

“Like what, Lei?” After setting the champagne bottle on the floor with a gentle thud, Taemin leaned across the couch to lay his head on my chest, flush against my heartbeat. Hooking his hands around my waist, he fanned his breath over my collar bone. “All over you?”

My heart raced for him, but it didn’t hurt, and I wasn’t embarrassed knowing that he could feel it too.

“Well, yeah.” I smiled as I carded my fingers through his hair. “But I actually meant that I like it when you talk like a poet. I love it when you trust me with everything in here.” My index finger traced his heart over his collared shirt.

Taemin wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pressed my palm flat against his chest so I could feel it— the ever so subtle quickening of his pulse as he lifted his head to breathe against my parted lips.

I guess the night couldn’t have remained an almost perfect dream come true because I didn’t live in a fairytale. Sometime later, Taemin pressed his back against the arm of the couch opposite me. After taking a small taste of champagne, he asked, “Do you want to play truth or dare like we did the last time we drank together?”

Because I am a fool for anything with sentimental value, I nodded my head so passionately that Baekhyun’s flower crown fell off of my head. It landed on the space between Taemin and me. Before I could return the crown to its place atop my head, he swiped it and laid over his hair. Although the flowers weren’t his, they looked prettier on him. They transformed him into a vision of an angel.

Knowing the answer, Taemin asked, “Am I pretty?” while tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and winking as I tasted champagne.

I giggled at the bubbling sensation on my tongue. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Taemin.” He rejoiced at the compliment, and I asked, “Who gets to go first in this little game?”

He decided with the question, “Truth or dare, jagi?”

Obeying Taemin’s gesture to take another sip of the drink, I decided to be bold. “Dare.”

Taemin hummed as he caught his pretty pink bottom lip between his teeth. I do not doubt that he was deliberately employing the very on-stage tactics that elicit screams from full stadiums around the world. Tugging his phone out of his pocket and flashing the timer on its screen, he dared, “Kiss me for a whole minute.”

Although I was no longer a stranger to kissing Taemin, my cheeks burned at his instruction. “A minute?” I frowned. I can’t tell you if I was disappointed because a minute was closer to never or forever.

“A minute!” Taemin smiled before puckering his lips.

I trembled with anxiety during that first dared kiss, I think, because I was too aware of the passage of time. I wasted that first dared kiss by holding my breath, whittling away the seconds until the alarm permitted me to crawl back to my side of the couch.

If Taemin was disappointed by the minute he wasted with his lips pressed to mine in the most lackluster kiss of all time— if he was disappointed that I was still as shy in the field of physical affection as I was in verbal affection— I couldn’t tell. His lips curled into a smile that I could see through the champagne bottle.

In my embarrassment, I nearly forgot to ask, “Truth or dare, Taeminnie?”

He squealed as he almost always did when I called him by anything resembling a nickname. “Truth.” His voice was a gentle hum.

My eyes broke from his just long enough to glance out at our garden before returning to the pleasure of staring at him until every detail of his perfect face was a permanent memory that I could sketch out on paper given a chance. I asked, “What were you doing out there by the rose bush that night before I sat with you?”

“Waiting for you,” he answered without a moment of hesitation, without a moment of surrendering to shame. “I noticed you out there once or twice when I should have been sleeping. I knew that you were lonely because you didn’t know that we were looking up at the same moon at the same time.” While I traced the ribbon around his wrist, he said, “It was my dream to show you— to make you feel that you’re not alone.”

Even if I achieved my goal of learning every language in the world, would I have ever learned the words with which to respond to something so beautiful? I don’t think so. I believe there are some moments when the only response can be silence.

I almost wanted to ask how he knew that I would be out there on that particular night. I almost wanted to know how the flower he held had broken. I came close to asking if he held it together in his warm, soft hands long after it was unsalvageable because he hoped as much as I did that the universe had gifted him with the supernatural ability to mend gaping wounds with his touch.

I bit my tongue, though, because the concept of fate enchanted me as a mysterious force that should not have to suffer through questioning. It was romantic enough to hear from Taemin’s mouth that we were brought together by the moon that I turned the page on those questions without regret.

Taking my next drink of champagne, I again chose dare, hoping for another chance to kiss my Taemin’s lips after he made my heart flutter with his talk about the moon.

Perhaps reading my mind or maybe wanting to feel my breath as much as I needed to feel his to thank the universe for the gift of the time together, Taemin said, “Kiss me for two minutes, please.”

That time, when Taemin started his timer, I hoped that by some miracle or happy accident, the alarm would never send me back to my appropriate side of the couch. I wanted to melt into him, to lose myself in him. It didn’t matter if I should ever distinguish myself from him again. Here— with him— is where I am happiest.

That time, when Taemin whispered, “My Lei,” against my skin, I didn’t cringe at the thought that I— all of me, every thought locked away in my mind, every fear hidden in the darkest corners of my heart— belonged to him.

Maybe that’s not the best way to phrase it. Maybe I mean to say that I didn’t cringe at the thought that all of me, even the parts that I considered fruitless or dangerous or flawed, belonged with Taemin. I don’t know.

Setting aside the semantics that certainly didn’t matter to me at the time, my heart stirred at Taemin’s whisper. I took both of his hands in mine and laced our fingers together as if that would forever tether me to the moment.

Time ran out as it always does and always will. After Taemin silenced the alarm, I stalled in peeling myself away from him. As cliche as this sounds, I swear that it’s true: it was almost painful to be separated.

Taemin noticed, or maybe he felt a pull toward me too. Swallowing champagne, he chose dare. He probably expected me to dare him to kiss me for as long as he wanted because I was tired of the alarm jolting us apart.

I don’t know how to describe my excitement when he leaned forward onto his knees and laid beside me on my side of the couch. It was a burning sensation that crawled up from the tips of my toes, pooled in my stomach, spread from my chest to the fingertips that reached out to trace his smile, and heated every inch of my face.

I don’t know how long we kissed that time, but I know that there was no coherent thought in my head by the time Taemin left me with tingling swollen lips. Maybe he deprived me of too much oxygen. Maybe the alcohol caught up with me all at once as my pulse quickened with each of his lingering touches.

Taemin swears that I was drunk on New Year’s Eve, but I can’t tell you for certain because I never felt like that— hot, honest, uninhibited, stuck in slow-motion— since that one night spent in his room. Because these memories embarrass me still, I have sworn off alcohol just to safely avoid circumstances that yield reckless choices.

Almost laughing at my dazed open-mouth expression, Taemin wondered aloud, “What are you thinking about?” while running his thumb over my crescent moon earring that matched his.

If he expected me to say anything profound, he must have been disappointed when I asked through bubbling giggles, “Do you think it’s physically possible for me to drown in your kiss?”

No disappointment was visible on his laughing face. If he wasn’t affected by the alcohol, I don’t know what his excuse was for muttering, “Let’s find out,” before fitting his lips with mine for the millionth time.

I am bashful about relating these acts of affection to you. I am not in any way ashamed about having kissed Taemin. It’s just— you know that I don’t regularly engage in this sort of behavior. I never really considered that I would ever breathe in sync or move in sync with anybody before Taemin found me in that hour of loneliness in the garden.

It didn’t come to me naturally at first— succumbing to that eternal pull toward him, the one who set me alight with his tender touch— but once the habit developed, I would never break it. Maybe I couldn’t even if I wake up one day and decide to try.

Anyway, there is something inherently nerve-rattling about carrying what happens in the dark in the company of the stars into daylight. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing by telling you everything that happened after the rising of the moon, but I— I guess I want nothing more than to share my happiness with you. I guess I want you to know that happiness is him: Taemin, my star.

After all the nights of narrowly missing Taemin’s lips, I suppose that the damn burst all at once with the bursting of fireworks. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand him, but I don’t have to understand Taemin to know that I am in love with him. That’s why I’m trying to stop seeing the world in the logical way I have tried to add and subtract everything else in my life. I accept that some things— some emotions— some people are not meant to be put into words.

It’s beautiful that Taemin is one such person.

Undoubtedly drowning in Taemin’s scent of roses, I broke from the kiss to ask, grinning from ear to ear like an absolute fool, “Do you think I could get drunk from this kiss?”

And— I squirm at this memory— he said, “I think I already am.”

The very words that almost make me cringe in hindsight washed over me like a stories-high wave that swept me to the shore where Taemin’s lips molded with mine again, still not tired, still not bored, still so sweet and gentle but not at all timid. He convinced me that I was made for this— I was made for him— and I think I still believe that now that I am sober and the sun has risen and, for a blink in the universe, he is not reading over my shoulder.

I ruined what very well could have been a perfect knee-weakening memory by sitting up to suggest, “Let’s play strip poker!”

Taemin laughed out loud. He gripped his sides because they were splitting until he realized that I wasn’t joking. Likely rattled by my serious expression that contradicted the last several minutes spent giggling between kisses, he gasped. “Are you being serious?”

I must have been intoxicated. Had I been sober, that suggestion would have been a joke or, at the very least, I would have had the wit to pass off a genuine (humiliating) desire as an absent-minded attempt at flirting. Instead, I nodded, reaching out to card my fingers through his hair. “I’m always serious, sweet Taemin.”

“Sweet Taemin?” The broad smile that brightened his face now brightens my memories. Forcing his lips into an exaggerated pout, he said, “I don’t have cards, jagi, so we can’t play strip poker. I’m sorry.”

“Darn.” I frowned, brow furrowing as I traced my fingers over Taemin’s lips that pervaded my every blurry thought. “Oh well. I don’t know how to play poker anyway.” And then, when I should have dropped the subject before any harm was done, I asked, “Can we play strip rock-paper-scissors instead, Taeminnie?”

Taemin snorted. “Well,” he spoke in a soft hum that almost definitely meant no.

Being more shameless in that moment than I had been in my entire life, I felt my eyes widen pleadingly. “Please, sweet Taeminnie?” My bottom lip poked out from my frown, and my hands pressed together as if to pray.

He sighed, “Well, alright,” and then winked as if he planned to give me my way all along.

I squealed and clapped my hands as I sat upright on my arm of the couch. After I gulped another unneeded mouthful of champagne, Taemin took the bottle and set it behind his side of the couch so I couldn’t reach it without straining.

I wasn’t disappointed for long. Holding his fist out, Taemin wiggled his eyebrows. “Ready, jagi?”

Giggling, I nodded my head until I was dizzy and the game commenced.

It was fun at first because Taemin lost the first two rounds. I think he liked that I rolled my eyes and shouted, “Booooooooriiiiiing,” when he started by removing his black socks. Then, he laughed as air passed through my rounded lips— a poor imitation of a whistle— when he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

Lowering back onto the couch, Taemin was careful to sit straight so that I could see each of his muscles. “Like what you see?” He smirked as if the answer wasn’t evident from my unadulterated stare and agape mouth. Like it tickled, he laughed when I reached to poke one of the muscles protruding in his abdomen because (even then) I needed proof that he wasn’t just a dream.

My winning streak didn’t last long. I was all too easy to beat, too compromised by alcohol and the mind-numbing sight of my boyfriend to even notice that I lost until he giggled.

After I shrugged out of Taemin’s jacket, dropping and forgetting it on the floor, I lost again. Without shoes or socks to shed, I stood and almost gnawed through my cheek as I reached for the cold zipper at the base of my neck. For the better part of five minutes, Taemin just watched me struggle with the zipper.

Maybe he thought I was stalling to remain clothed for as long as possible, but the truth— that’s too embarrassing to admit. Suffice it to say that, having suggested the game in the first place, I was not stalling.

When the sparkling midnight blue fabric fell at my bare feet, we both screamed.

Standing before him in only a nude bra and a pair of skin-toned Spanx, too stunned by my own action to look away from his widened eyes, I stuttered, “I— I can’t do this. Or can I?” Glancing down at myself, blushing just slightly, I realized, “I guess I already did, so—”

“No,” Taemin said as he stood. Although his eyes were closed, he walked to me without stumbling and draped his discarded shirt over my shoulders. Once I fit my arms through the silky sleeves that hung past my fingertips, Taemin opened his eyes to button the shirt most of the way up. He avoided my bewildered gaze, saying, “I’m sorry. I was just playing around. I didn’t think that you would actually do that. I’m so sorry, Lei.”

Because I couldn’t understand why he was apologizing when we had only played the game by its rules, I asked, “What’s wrong? Did I mess something up again?”

I must have cried. I can still feel Taemin’s thumbs brushing my cheeks just under my eyes. I hate that. I hate that I lost all inhibitions. I hate that I cried in front of Taemin just because his solemn expression terrified me to the core. I hate that I had no choice in whether or how to express the emotions I would have preferred to hide.

“No,” he whispered before enveloping me in a hug that was probably supposed to prove that nothing was wrong. He pulled my bangs out of my face and brushed his lips across my forehead. “You didn’t mess anything up. It just— if we keep going, I think you’ll regret it in the morning. I never want you to regret anything you do with me.”

“I wouldn’t regret it.” Suddenly too flustered, too ashamed to meet his eyes, I looped my arms around his waist and leaned forward to put my ear to his heartbeat. What once had been slow, confident, unaffected by my proximity was now rapid, anxious, all because of me.

“Please,” Taemin begged, “don’t say things like that when I’m trying to do the right thing.”

Before I could continue to childishly argue that there was no reason to pace ourselves or resist each other if we wanted the same things, Taemin tightened his grip around my waist and pulled me flush against his warm body. He held me there in the silence for what felt like eternities before swinging me, as if I was as light as a feather, toward his bed.

He sang, “Let’s go to sleep,” and smiled his smile that grew more familiar with each passing second. A beauty of my memories and my present confined no longer to photographs and my wildest dreams.

He pulled back the plush white blanket to expose white sheets, and he tugged me along toward the head of the bed, where he collapsed against soft cloud pillows.

“But I don’t wanna go to bed,” I whined, refusing to lay with him. “I’m not tired!”

Taemin laughed when I reached for the champagne bottle. His hand wrapped around my waist, tickling me through his shirt, and pulled me to the center of the bed so that my back pressed against his side. “Let’s cuddle, then. Come here and talk to me.”

I mumbled, “That’s my favorite thing to do,” and rolled onto my side so I could see him.

As I started to trace my name onto his chest with my index finger, Taemin chuckled. “What’s your favorite thing? Cuddling or talking to me?”

“Both,” I answered without hesitation. My eyes flickered up to his face. He was so beautiful that I had to tell him. “Do you know why?”

“No.” Taemin shook his head, which he propped on the arm resting atop his pillow. “Why, jagi?”

“You’re my favorite person,” I told him plainly, “because you’re beautiful.”

“I’m beautiful?” Taemin gasped like he never before received the compliment.

“Didn’t you know?” I removed my hand from his chest to cup his cheek, which bulged under the weight of his sparkling toothy grin. “You’re so pretty, Taemin. You’re the prettiest person in the whole world. You’re prettier than the sun and the moon and all of the stars. You’re brighter than all of them, too, and I love you more than them and—”

True to his earlier promise to silence me with a kiss whenever I ramble, Taemin used both hands to pull me atop him and, resting one hand at the nape of my neck, he brought my lips to his.

“This is my other favorite thing to do,” I confessed, looking down at him with a smile I hope rivaled the radiance of the sun. “I never want to stop kissing you.”

Taemin breathed, “Then don’t,” so sweetly that I kissed him over and over again until the sun rose or my eyes fluttered closed in a deep sleep— whichever came first.

My stomach didn’t knot at any of the night’s events until the morning sun broke through the window, unobstructed by blinds or curtains, and pried my eyes open with a dull headache. When my bare legs brushed against the fabric of Taemin’s dress pants, I flinched away from him, sat upright, and choked on a gasp.

I glanced at his sleeping form, barely getting to admire the half of his face that wasn’t buried in the cloud white pillow before my eyes zeroed in on the fact that his back— his entire upper body— was bare.

He was shirtless and right next to me. I was pants-less (except for my shapewear) and right next to him.

And in those few seconds before the previous night’s events came back to crush me under the weight of utter humiliation, I think my instinct was to run before Taemin could notice. I hate admitting that after I swore in champagne-induced honesty that I would regret nothing.

A confession: I was not trying to run away from regret. I was trying to run from a terrifyingly unfamiliar sense of desire that I— well, just use your imagination or something.

I swept Taemin’s jacket off of the floor and pulled my phone out of the pocket, only to be greeted with a wall of missed calls from Lucas. Because it wasn’t even nine o’clock and we had no set schedule, to say that I was worried that Lucas was awake— let alone blowing my phone up— was an understatement.

I wasted no time in calling him back on my tiptoed sprint into Taemin’s bathroom.

Lucas answered as I set to removing last night’s smudged eyeliner with a cloth I found in a cabinet. “Where are you?” he asked in place of ‘hello.’

While I had been cognizant enough pre-champagne to text Mom that I was crashing at the SuperM house— careful to exclude the part about sleeping in Taemin’s bed— I hadn’t thought to check in with Lucas.

“The SuperM house,” I replied, sinking at the thought that he might have been worried about me. “Specifically, I’m hiding in my—” I was going to say ‘my boyfriend,’ but my mouth couldn’t quite form the word— “Taemin’s bathroom.”

“Your Taemin’s bathroom?” From the wave-like inflection in Lucas’s voice, I could envision his wiggling eyebrows. I imagined that his bright, teasing smile faded into a frown before he asked, “Wait, hiding? What are you hiding from?”

I was hiding from the fact that I had woken up half-naked in bed with a half-naked Taemin. I was hiding from the truth that had he not drawn a line in the sand, had he not been the first to close the door, I would have given him everything. All it took was a little bit of champagne for me to lose all sense of dignity, and I— why couldn’t I regret anything?

There was no way in hell I was going to say any of that to Lucas, though. Instead, I said, “I don’t want to wake Taemin while talking to you.” I was picking among truths.

Lucas’s silence carried his belief that I was hiding something, but I clung to my secrets. “Why did you call me a million times?”

“Oh yeah. That.” Lucas chuckled. “Heechul and Donghae—”

At their names, the two men felt compelled to bicker within Lucas’s earshot.

Lucas sighed, “Well, you’ll just have to come home to get a clear read on this situation.”

Eager for an excuse to race home before Taemin could see my scarlet cheeks and tempt me into lovesick decisions, I asked, “Do you need me to come home now?”

Lucas’s response was delayed. He probably knew that I was trying to run, so he took his time in carefully structuring his response. “I think Heechul and Donghae will still be here long after you spend time with Taemin.”

As if stirred awake by the most recent utterance of his name, Taemin knocked on the door. “Lei, jagi, are you in here?” His voice was raspy with fatigue.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” Lucas said before hanging up, leaving me to confront the tension that set butterflies ablaze in my gut.

Setting my phone down on the counter, I told Taemin, “It’s unlocked.”

When he walked through the doorway, I couldn’t look at him for long. He was still shirtless and much prettier now that he was awake and smiling at me. I couldn’t breathe.

While my gaze averted toward the white marble counter, he filled the space behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pressed a soft kiss to my temple. He stood so close that the warmth of his bare skin radiated through the back of my (his) shirt.

“I thought you left,” he whispered, tightening his embrace, “before I could tell you again that I love you.”

The intimacy of this entire scene— being this close to Taemin after sleeping in his bed, wearing only his shirt over my undergarments, having spent and continuing to spend time in this place that was neither a hotel nor my bedroom but his space— burned me alive.

I said, “I love you too,” because I did even when I trembled like a leaf tempted to flutter away from the life-giving branch.

Taemin must have sensed my anxiety. His touch softened as his hand reached my chin, urging me to meet our reflection. “Look at us,” he breathed, and my eyes opened.

Our faces were swollen from sleep, and Taemin’s eyes were smudged by faint traces of makeup that he hadn’t wiped away the night before— the first night that he hadn’t prioritized his skincare routine— and my eyes were wide with some emotion that I can only describe as fear— but Taemin said, “We’re beautiful.”

Then, I saw the gentle, angelic smile that curved his lips— the lips I kissed a million times to claim as mine— and I saw the spark in his eyes, and I felt the way his chest rose and fell against my back. I saw that the blush burning my face was a pretty rosy pink that matched the color spread across every visible inch of his skin down to the fingertips, and I saw that the same spark in his eyes was alight in mine, and I felt that trembling at Taemin’s presence was okay. Trembling in Taemin’s embrace was the appropriate, proper, natural response.

He was right: we are beautiful.

“I’m happy,” I told him in case it wasn’t apparent from my sigh as I melted into him. “You should be the first person I see every morning.”

Taemin smiled before releasing me and walking to his cabinet. He returned to my side, offered me a toothbrush, and winked before brushing his teeth. “I usually am these days, aren’t I?”

His wink made my stomach do somersaults.

Tingling as I fit the toothbrush into my mouth, I shrugged. I thought long and hard before spitting into the sink and filling the morning air with the declaration, “I’m talking about forever, Taemin.”

Taemin blinked at me so many times that I thought the suds from his facewash had fallen into his eyes through his thick lashes. When he continued blinking after his face was rinsed and dried, I clarified, bold in my convictions despite his silence, “You should be the first person I see for the rest of forever. Or at least that’s what I think. At least that’s what I want.”

“I—” Taemin wheezed.

That’s when I started to panic: when Taemin fell into uncharacteristic silence. Leaning against the cold counter, I closed my eyes, rubbed my temples, and replayed all of our conversations. I knew that I hadn’t been the first to mention forever. Taemin was. Just last night at the party, just before he kissed me, he said that he would love me forever.

Had that been a sweet nothing with which to fill the silence? I knew that a lot of people say forever without meaning it, but I— I never have. I thought Taemin was like me: someone who feels the weight of forever. I didn’t think that he would say something like that just to say it, just to hear it said back, just to make me fall in love with a fairytale illusion.

I think I know enough of broken hearts to tell you that mine was shattered before Taemin wrapped his arms around me. His touch filled every void, healed every wound, and I knew how happy that rose was to have been held by him that night in our garden.

“You made me so happy just then,” he whispered in my ear, “that I forgot how to speak.”

Just like that, he mended and melted my heart. Just like that, he opened my eyes to his sincere smile, and I had to tell him, “You hold all of my heart in the palm of your hand, Taemin.”

He told me, still in a whisper pressed to my ear, “You hold all of mine too, Lei. Forever.”

Staring forever in the face didn’t seem so scary anymore.

Before I could even try to comb through the bird’s nest on my head, Taemin tightened his grip around my waist and lifted me off of the cold tiled floor, not quite high enough to trigger my fear of falling.

“Come on, jagi.” Once we stood in his bedroom, he motioned for me to climb onto his back. “ Let's make breakfast downstairs!”

Knowing well that— combined— Taemin and I had a total of about fifteen minutes’ worth of experience in the kitchen, I decided that it would be fun to visit unexplored territory with him. It would be like playing house, a game that hadn’t interested me since early childhood years in Grandma’s kitchen in Atlanta.

My ankle healed almost entirely overnight, so I didn’t need Taemin to carry me. I think I never needed him to carry me in the first place, but maybe I wanted him to. Maybe I liked having romantic k-drama moments with him when nobody could see and laugh and point out that I looked out of place in such a scene.

Because Taemin giggled loudly every time I dropped a kiss on his cheek, neck, or shoulders while descending the stairs, I didn’t hear any signs that Ten stood in the kitchen. Given that I was a guest in the SuperM house, I guess I should have been prepared to see another member at some point, but I would never have expected to see an outsider— a girl!

Before I hid my burning face in the crook of Taemin’s neck, I watched the girl trail her fingers down Ten’s arms, bare under his ruffled pink apron. I watched her long black hair fall over his shoulders as she tried to distract him from the sizzling stovetop with open-mouth kisses pressed to Ten’s jawline. All at once, I realized that both of them were almost completely naked.

All I could think was that the girl, even though I couldn’t see her face, was stunning in the way that she carried herself without any degree of shame.

Why couldn’t I be like that? Is shamelessness an inherent trait, or can one learn it and call it confidence?

I stifled my surprised gasp against the skin of Taemin’s shoulder, but Ten must have heard anyway. He somehow must have turned his eyes away from the girl long enough to find me clinging to Taemin at the foot of the stairs.

He said, “Hey, Lei!” in a bright tone that didn’t imply the embarrassment that would have seized me should anyone catch me in an intimate act with Taemin. “Have fun ringing in the new year?”

Although I couldn’t bring myself to meet Ten’s teasing gaze, I knew that he believed that a scene similar to the one playing out in the kitchen had played out in Taemin’s bedroom. Too embarrassed to speak even to try to correct him, I kept my eyes fixed on Taemin’s back as I straightened my legs, relieved by his willingness to let me go.

I hoped that Taemin was the only person who watched my dash through the front door, clad in only his shirt that— thankfully— reached my mid-thigh.

“Goodbye,” Taemin called after me through laughter. I was glad that he wasn’t offended that I left without breakfast. “I’ll call you later!”

To my further humiliation, Ten laughed too.

. . .

Had I been thinking clearly, I would have entered the house through my bedroom window instead of running around to the front door, shivering in the cold. It’s a miracle that I was greeted only by Lucas, who was too busy scribbling on a piece of paper on the coffee table to notice me until I closed the door with a soft click. It’s a miracle that Mom, Donghae, and Heechul were too involved in their discussion in the kitchen to notice that I stood in the living room, cheeks painted red by the winter wind and the vulnerability of existing only in Taemin’s shirt.

Rubbing at my temples, where a headache formed at Heechul’s sudden increase in volume, I groaned, “And here I thought we were finally at the happy ending.”

Lucas’s brow furrowed. He chewed on his chapped bottom lip as if he hadn’t heard me.

My frown was instinctual, a natural response to the absence of my best friend’s smile that accompanied every hello and brightened every day. “Are you okay?” My voice was gentle as I tiptoed to sit by his side. Reaching for the paper, the focus of his glare, I asked, “What are you drawing?”

No matter how intently I stared at the list of names and lines and hearts penned in rainbows of crayon colors, I couldn’t make out any picture until Lucas replied, voice raspy from a lack of sleep— maybe he tried and failed to fall asleep during the Super Junior New Years Afterparty— “Our family tree.”

At the top of the page was Mom written in pink, sandwiched between orange Donghae and red Heechul. Lines connected my name, a pretty shade of blue that reminded me of a daytime sky, and Lucas’s, a deep purple, to Mom’s to mark us as her children. Then, a line accented with hearts linked my name to Taemin’s, and almost illegible yellow, to define us as soulmates.

Below my name and Taemin’s was an unfamiliar title: “Lucas Tue,” written in green.

Cocking my head, I pointed to that foreign name. “Who’s that?”

The relief that overwhelmed me when Lucas broke his concentrated scowl to grin from ear to ear was shortlived. I choked on my breath when he explained, “That’s yours and Taemin’s baby! See how I wrote his name in green? That’s because he’s the perfect blend of you— blue— and Taemin— yellow!”

It was kind of cute that Lucas spent just as much time as I did (if not more) imagining a future with Taemin.

Rather than reminding Lucas that there was no baby or insisting him that there wouldn’t be one for quite some time, I asked, “Is this supposed to be an alternate spelling of, like, Lucas 2? As in, you expect me and Taemin to name our child after you?”

Lucas nodded eagerly. “I think it’s pretty clever. To make it less confusing, I propose we call the little ray of sunshine ‘Tue.’”

I blinked at Lucas, nearly on the verge of laughter. “If it’s really important to you, I’ll talk this over with Taemin, but my vote on this name suggestion is a resounding no.”

The wide-eyed offended expression that dashed across Lucas’s face easily gave way to a goofy grin as he swung his arm over my shoulder and ruffled a hand through my knotted hair. He laughed in my ear. “Aw! You want a baby with Taemin!” He cheered so loudly that Mom, Donghae, and Heechul should have heard.

I guess they didn’t, thank God, because none of them came barreling out of the kitchen.

“Cut it out!” I blushed as I wiggled out of Lucas’s embrace, inciting more teasing laughter. I flipped over the family tree so it couldn’t fluster me further. “Why are you drawing family trees anyway?”

“I’m trying to make sense of the world around me.” Lucas shrugged, staring blankly at the SpongeBob episode playing on the television. “Donghae is Mom’s boyfriend, but Heechul is the one who’s almost always here for dinner and dramas. Now that they’re both competing for roles in Mom’s life, I’m wondering which one is our dad.”

I gawked at Lucas. I was amazed by his genuine sense of confusion.

“Neither is our dad,” I said, thinking that should have been obvious. Instead of reminding Lucas that Mom was my Mom like I probably did at the dawn of our friendship, I told him, “Family units don’t need strict clear cut roles, you know. All that matters is that we’re happiest when we’re together. Donghae and Heechul should realize that they don’t have to compete for a place in Mom’s life and ours by extension.”

Lucas folded our family tree into a paper airplane as he considered my perspective. Pursing his lips, he conceded, “You’re probably right.”

I tugged my knees toward my chest. Crossing my arms and laying my head against the bend of my elbow, I breathed in the scent of roses on Taemin’s shirt. My shirt. The shirt I would keep (probably) forever.

“I’m almost always right,” I boasted, sending Lucas an uncharacteristic wink. I don’t know what was wrong with me. Happiness makes me weird.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucas rolled his eyes even as he grinned. His eyebrows pinched together as he gathered the fabric of my sleeve between his fingers. “Hey, where’d you get this shirt?”

The resurfacing memories — the memories that I admit never once sunk below the surface, if I’m entirely honest— of Taemin from that morning and last night and every night passed that he had stolen my heart piece by piece struck me speechless. I couldn’t explain that the shirt once belonged to him while my heart swelled in my chest, knotting my throat and stomach and everything in its path.

While I struggled to breathe, Lucas’s eyes trailed down to my legs. His eyes nearly popped out of his head, and I almost wanted to laugh at his expression, but I was suddenly far too embarrassed to do anything but hide my face in my cloud-soft sleeve.

“Lei!” Lucas shrieked in a whisper because he didn’t want to attract attention from our parental figures. “What happened to your pants?”

All I said was, “Shut up, Lucas,” too mortified to meet his gaze.

Rather than staying to endure his interrogation, which I knew even in the darkest depths of embarrassment was genuine well-intentioned curiosity, I stood, pulled the bottom hem of Taemin’s shirt as far down my thighs as it would go, and ran upstairs to my bedroom. Somehow, I went undetected by Mom, Donghae, and Heechul.

Believe me: I appreciated that freedom while it lasted.

Until I was alone behind the closed door, stepping into white pajama pants that were a little too big because they once belonged to Lucas, it didn’t occur to me that my silence might have been damaging to my reputation. Yes, I thought of my reputation even with Lucas. No, I really hadn’t changed from the paranoid principled person I had been at the start of this tale. I’m sorry.

My silence implied that there was a scandalous reason why my dress laid on Taemin’s floor. Whatever scene Lucas imagined when I ran up the stairs was probably similar to whatever Ten imagined when he found me at the foot of the stars.

I can’t tell you why I squirmed at that thought. I should have been comforted by the reality that a.) nothing that scandalous happened beyond eternal kisses and an embarrassing game of rock-paper-scissors and b.) I wouldn’t have taken it back for anybody if something that scandalous had happened beyond eternal kisses and an embarrassing game of rock-paper-scissors.

But I wasn’t comforted. My stomach coiled with the realization that people thought I threw away every rule and reservation for Taemin.

It was true. With ease, Taemin walked through every door, even the ones I swore I locked. He made me want to fall face-first into the sky, but you probably couldn’t tell from my forced grip around the safety rail, ever submissive to the fear of falling alone, still scared that he couldn’t catch me even if he fulfilled his promise to try.

No longer consumed by the tension between Mom and Donghae because I could hear their laughter interrupting Heechul’s rant about who-knows-what, no longer distracted by the demands of the tour, my only thought was Taemin. And it wasn’t because we finally shared our first million kisses or because he was unashamed to lay shirtless by my side or because he set me on fire with his touch.

Taemin pervaded every idle daydream because of those moments when he made me feel safe. Maybe all I ever wanted was security, and I found it in his steady heartbeat. Maybe I found it in the way his shirt hugged me and made my skin smell like roses. Maybe I could never let go.

Maybe I hated that Ten could pervert pure love with his playful smirk. Maybe I never bothered to correct him by explaining that bond formed in the garden— which exceded the limits of all words anyway— for fear of misunderstanding or seeming as vulnerable as I had always been behind my mask.

Maybe I was shy, and maybe I always would be, but there was— is— there is a part of me that wants to shout from every rooftop that I will be forever in love with Taemin because every moment is like that first in the garden. A part of me wants to tell everyone that everything else, every hand held and kiss shared and love-stained word whispered in the dark has been an act of gratitude because he saw me.

Taemin saw me. Taemin loved me.

And sometimes, I realize that I still don’t know how to thank him or God or fate or the universe or whoever I’m supposed to thank for miracles.

I was contemplating this, my blooming garden of miracles, when Taemin’s voice filled my quiet room. “I have something for you, jagi.”

My scream would have brought Heechul and Donghae racing up the stairs (likely bickering about who gets to obliterate the demon serial burglar who dared to burst through my window in broad daylight) had Taemin not silenced it with a long kiss as he climbed onto my bed, where I had been laying with my eyes closed.

“Here you go.” He dropped a rose— the fragmented one from the party, which I must have forgotten somewhere again— onto my pillow. It landed by the crook of my neck and tickled my skin with its petals.

“Thank you,” I smiled.

Before Taemin could secure me in the embrace I never wanted to wake from, I walked over to my vanity. Catching my cheerful blush in the mirror, only briefly meeting Taemin’s gaze through the glass, I fit the rose into the vase with all of the others. “What about Baekhyun’s flower crown, my dress, and my heels?”

“They’re in my room.” Taemin kicked his shoes off onto the floor and rolled onto his back to lay his head on one of my pillows. “I can only carry so much when I scale up the side of your house.”

Something in his childish tone made me laugh as I crossed the distance back to him. “Noted, Taem. If climbing is such a struggle for you, why don’t you just come in through the front door?”

It was impossible, unrealistic, the dream that we could ever love out in the open, but I think I wanted it. I wanted to live in the world where we didn’t have to watch our shadows, look around every corner, lock every closed door. I just didn’t know how to get there, and I couldn’t ask Taemin to lead me to a place that didn’t exist.

Taemin winked. “Isn’t it more fun this way? Sneaking around like we have something to hide—” he sat up to whisper in my ear, unable to see the goosebumps that formed down my arms concealed by his shirt— “isn’t it exciting?”

My face burned, but I didn’t shrink away from Taemin’s voice or the kiss he placed on my cheek as my gaze fell onto my hands pressed flat in my lap. Breathless because of his proximity, I was almost too bashful to admit in my faintest whisper, “Everything is exciting with you, my Taemin.”

“Look at me.” His command was more of a desperate plea.

When I couldn’t obey, not even to see his brilliant smile, because all of me was on fire, Taemin dropped to his knees before me as he had in one of our American hotel rooms once upon a time.

It couldn’t have happened just a few months ago. A few months is too short to contain an infinity. And yet, my love for Taemin existed outside of time, perhaps owing to the years of admiring him as an idol from afar, or the decades of secretly dreaming that somebody like him existed and was bound to come my way on some unforeseen river rapid, or maybe—

Maybe owing to the soul bond signified by the blue ribbon on his wrist.

“Lei,” Taemin said my name so beautifully, “there’s no reason to be embarrassed. You can look into my eyes and call me yours because it’s true.” His hands cupped my cheeks like he expected me to burst into tears.

I didn’t want to cry, though. I only wanted to smile. So I did.

“Really?” I probably looked like a baby staring down at him with eyes blown wide with wonder, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind being vulnerable with him. “You don’t think I’m moving too quickly or being too clingy, or—”

Taemin’s peel of laughter made me laugh too. He said, “Honestly, I think you should move as quickly as you want. You can be clingier. I told you, I like it when you’re like this. Do it more, please?”

It was almost impossible to deny him when he looked at me like that, like I was his favorite part of the world. I crumbled. I fell a little deeper. I wanted to be anything he wanted, knowing that all he wanted was me unrestrained.

I told him, “It’s hard to hold back from you.”

Returning to my side to hold me even though the sun was casting its rays across our faces, he urged, “Then don’t.”

But I— I had to hold some parts for myself, right? I had to keep some things locked in that internal box so they would be intact should a storm blow through and destroy everything or— worse— should he gather his things, including the pieces of me, to continue on his separate way. I— I had to at least be able to tell my future self that I tried to prepare for the worst.

“Please,” I begged, reaching for the television remote on my nightstand to downplay my reference, “don’t say things like that when I’m trying to do the right thing.”

I tried to ignore the ensuing silence and distract myself from Taemin’s stare by flicking through a thousand boring channels.

Taemin didn’t react well to losing my attention. He moved to sit before me, deliberately blocking the television so that there was no choice but to meet his eyes despite the resurgence of butterflies.

“So,” he laughed bashfully when I raised my eyebrows. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck. “You remember— um— that?”

I nodded, blushing mainly because he blushed first. I picked at a button on my shirt. “I remember well enough to quote it.”

All he said was, “Oh,” before he crawled back to my side and pressed his back to the headboard.

I didn’t know what to say or what to make of his “Oh,” which was over too quickly to carry any tone with which to gauge his thoughts. Turning my gaze, which followed Taemin everywhere, to the television, I hoped (as always) that the tension would disappear— or at least stop growing— if I didn’t acknowledge it.

It was like I hadn’t learned anything from my journey of self-discovery. And why? Because I was blushing? Was my hard-won strength really so fragile?

No.

Having outgrown foolish, childish coping mechanisms, I rolled my eyes at myself and admitted that it was unfair to leave all silences for Taemin to break just because I was afraid to accidentally shatter something that never should have been mine. I read once that progress isn’t always linear, so I kept that in mind when meeting Taemin’s eyes.

He had gotten there first. He was watching me. Waiting for me. Quietly. Patiently. Maybe he knew that it was my turn to speak first.

“I don’t regret anything that happened last night,” I admitted in one breath. “Maybe I should because I have never kissed anybody like that before, and I’ve definitely never taken my dress off in front of anyone before. I don’t know how much I should blame the champagne, but I know I acted like a fool. The problem— if you can really call it a problem, and I know you wouldn’t— is that I don’t mind being a fool for you.”

If Lionel Ritchie and Diana Ross could sing that in “Endless Love,” then I could say it to Taemin. Or at least that’s what I told myself.

Taemin beamed at my honesty as he always did. Sensing that it was safe to do so, he draped an arm over my shoulders and pulled me into his side. Normally, nobody lies to feel small, but I was comfortable sinking into his embrace.

He said, “I don’t regret last night either,” apparently forgetting his apologetic efforts to get our night back on track after we screamed. “I never regret any moment shared with you. I kinda thought you were adorable, to be honest.”

“Adorable?” I scoffed through my grin. “You define things weirdly.”

“Nuh-uh,” Taemin argued with the shake of his head. “It’s cute when you cling to me and tell me that you love me more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Adorable!”

Blushing at the restatement of my ramblings, I said, “I’m not arguing with you. Things like cuteness and beauty are subjective, so—”

I was going to say that he just had weird taste by my standards, but Taemin interrupted. “Not this time! Objectively, my composed, dignified Lei is graceful— my emotionally expressive Lei looking up at the moon is beautiful— and my carefree, affectionate, drunk-on-kisses-and-champagne Lei—”

Composed and dignified once more, if even for a fleeting second, I interjected, “I was not drunk.”

But Taemin didn’t so much as dignify that with a pointed argumentative look. “You were precious last night. I was happy to see you without a worry in the world even if it was a once in a lifetime event I play over and over again like our first kiss or meeting in the garden or receiving your ribbon.”

Oh, I smiled, so he revisits our memories too.

Because I had been dying to know for as long as he wore my ribbon and I couldn’t remember if I was ever brave enough to ask, I seized the chance to wonder out loud, “Why do you love me, Taemin?”

I didn’t doubt him. At that point, I would have believed any beautiful lie he wanted to tell. I just— maybe this is vain, but I loved to hear what he thought of me spoken into the world.

Taemin glanced away from his ribbon, which I traced with my free hand, or at our interlaced fingers— whichever he was studying— to fix all of his attention on my curious stare. His eyes didn’t widen in surprise; they crinkled joyfully like I had finally stumbled upon the question he longed to receive because he held the perfect answer.

“Come close,” he said, feeling as I did that sitting hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, was not nearly enough, “and I’ll tell you.”

At his command, I leaned closer like I wanted to all along.

A shiver ran down my spine when he whispered in my ear, “Beauty aside, you’re the gentlest spirit in the whole world. You always walk on your toes, and you look both ways before crossing the street, and you’re sensitive to every change in the wind, and you burn brighter than the sun, but you never try to mark anybody with your flame.”

I hummed, perplexed that anybody could equate me, the girl who found her reflection on the moon, with something like the bold and beautiful sun. I didn’t argue with Taemin, though. I was too lost in his voice to find mine. I thought that his worldview was more beautiful than mine, and I imagined that by holding him and hearing him I could live in his world.

Deep down, I think I always wanted to live by the sun. Maybe Taemin didn’t see me how I was— he definitely didn’t see me as I saw myself— but he saw me as I wanted to be.

He continued, “You think you’re as mysterious as the moon and stars. Sometimes, I want to let you believe that because they’re your idols and I know why. It’s because they taught you how to shine in the dark. I understand, but— even if you’re a mystery to yourself and the people who haven’t been lucky enough to hold the sun— you’re not a mystery to me.”

“Taemin,” I wanted to say, but I couldn’t speak.

“I see you clearly,” Taemin boasted, wearing this smile that was childlike in its beauty like seeing me in this figurative sense gave him an advantage over every other person in the world. “I always have. How could I not love you with all of my heart?”

“Taemin,” I finally breathed raggedly because his name was the only thing to say.

Still, he wasn’t finished speaking. He could have talked forever, and I would have listened forever. He pointed out the window. Because he drew the curtains on his way in, I had to squint through the blinding light to find our garden off in the distance.

“Notice how I told you all of that in the sunlight?” He tugged me closer and sat me between his legs, clad in black sweatpants, so that my back was pressed to his chest. Holding tight around my waist, almost squeezing the air out of my diaphragm because it wasn’t enough to steal my breath with his words, he laid his head on my shoulder and hummed, “We’re not a dream. We don’t melt or fade in the sunlight, so you don’t have to be afraid for the night to end anymore. I mean it when I say forever, and I don’t mind saying it again and again until that word doesn’t scare you.”

“Taemin,” I breathed again. I was tempted to lie that I wasn’t afraid— which really wasn’t much of a lie when he held me. I almost wanted to tell him that I wasn’t afraid of a forever with him; I was afraid of anything less.

Because there was no room in the air for my fears, I said neither of those things. Cutting my eyes at him, holding absolutely no malice or genuine desire for him to stop, I said, “You’re making my chest hurt. I can’t breathe when you talk like this.”

“Last night,” he reminded me with a smile and the subtle raising of his eyebrows, “you said that you love when I talk to you like this.”

I did. I do.

He would never forget anything that I said on New Year's Eve, and I wouldn’t either. I’ve read that major life events result in a new perspective on life. There is life before the incident, and then there is life after. The incident shines a new light on everything that happened prior, and the incident is woven intricately into the understanding of the present.

Giving Taemin my ribbon was one such incident. Crying with him in the garden was another. New Year's Eve, with all of its kisses and clumsy attempts at intimacy, carried the latest collection of incidents.

True to who he had been since he started wearing the ribbon, Taemin didn’t stop pouring his heart out on me in overflowing portions just so I could catch my breath. He laid us down, holding me flush against his body so I couldn't shiver because of the winter wind blowing in through the open window; I couldn’t hide should the compulsion strike again; I couldn't mistake his sincerity; I couldn’t think to the future beyond his palms pressed to mine and his heart pounding with mine and his lips dancing with mine.

I never thought that anything could better express the soul than words, poetry, a diary addressed to a most beloved friend, a metaphor, music, the piano, the violin, a voice in a foreign tongue that carries your darkest fears into the light that recolors them dreams, a lifelong glance at a sky of moon and stars, watching the sea run and return to the shore at the moon’s command, but Taemin’s kiss. Taemin’s kiss.

It’s strange to say that I found more of myself there than anywhere else. Is that what it means to be soulmates? I don’t know, but I’m going to believe that the answer is yes even if that makes me a fool. Don’t tell me if I’m wrong or delusional or walking in a dream.

e.e. cummings was right: ‘kisses are a better fate than wisdom.’

My thoughts were tangled and blurred, but I remember thinking that I couldn’t breathe, but it would have been harder to breathe if he should ever go away. I remember sighing, relieved that we laid on my bed (that wasn’t nearly as cloud soft as his) because my legs were jelly and I almost certainly couldn’t stand. I remember thinking that this— being with Taemin— was what it felt like to fly.

And I didn’t know how to stop— I didn’t want to stop— so I flew with him until the sun descended and the stars and moon, my old friends, ascended in its place.

And that’s how Mom found us: impossibly close and still, still too far apart.

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duker42 · 4 years

Note

Pt 1. Can I get one in the family matters universe. Levi and s/o go out one night get extremely drunk come home start making out and it gets very hot and heavy. Levi reluctantly stops because he doesnt want thier first time (her first) together to be drunk. She doesnt want to but they eventually do. Next morning he wakes up to her sober and still very much in the mood. Smut ensues. Unfortunately they forgot they had brunch plans with kenny & when they dont show he worries & comes over.....

*****WARNING*****NSFW

💜Family Brunch💜

They had drank way more than what was good for either one of them. Y/N had enjoyed herself at the party and Levi had pretty much matched her drink for drink.

The Uber ride home had been steamy, Y/N unable to keep her hands to herself. Levi had been sure that the driver was watching them from the mirror as she had straddled him. But then again, they had probably seen much worse.

When they got home, it had gotten more intense. Clothes had come off in a drunken haze as they stumbled back to Levi’s bedroom. Y/N was currently on his bed, wearing nothing but the tiny little thongs she had been teasing him with all night when she bent over.

Levi was in his boxers on top of Y/N, his hips pushing forward to grind his throbbing cock against her hot core. His mouth attached to a distended nipple as his hand massaged the other. Her fingers were pulling on his hair the harsh yanks on his scalp letting him know she was enjoying it.

“Ahhhh. Leeeevi, please fuck me.” Y/N had a slight slur to her voice. Her hand releasing his hair to reach between them to rub his cock through his boxers.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been splashed on him. When he heard her slurred words, he realized she was far to drunk to take the next step. He had a better tolerance than she did, and had sobered up slightly on the way home.

As badly as he wanted this, and his body was screaming for him to push himself into her, he didn’t want their first time to be a drunk quickie. He knew she was a virgin, having admitted that she had never actually slept with that asshole that Levi had hated with a passion in high school. She had told him that after he had admitted he had hated the guy purely for the fact that he had gotten to touch her, be her first.

Then he had felt guilty. He wasn’t a virgin. After being told that she had slept with that fucker, he hadn’t talked to her about it, instead decided it would be a great idea to screw his way through the next five girls that looked his way before he got his head slapped by his uncle. Kenny had smacked the shit out of him and given him a long lecture on what it meant to be a good man. For all the man’s teasing and questionable humor he had a very definite moral code when it came to how to treat women.

Levi had gotten his shit together and hadn’t touched another girl. And now the one girl he had truly only ever wanted was underneath him and begging for him to take her. But, he wasn’t going to do anything more until she could tell him that sober, even it seemed like it was going to kill him.

“Y/N, we’re both too drunk to do this. I want it, fuck do I want it, but it wouldn’t be right.” Levi answered, gritting his teeth as she continued to fondle him, her breasts pushing up against his chest.

She protested and tried to get him to change his mind. But Levi had ended up throwing Y/N into a cold shower that not only cooled off their libidos, but had cleaned them up so they wouldn’t smell like stale alcohol and sweat.

After she had been tucked away in bed, he had showered himself and had spend a long time willing his body to behave. When he had finally felt like he could sleep next to her without doing something he or she would regret, he had gotten out and dressed, slipping into the bed beside her and pulling her against him to drift off.

~~~~~

He woke up hot. His eyes opened to find a bright eyed Y/N on top of him, straddling his waist. He had gotten dressed when he went to bed and he had put a loose shirt on Y/N when he had put her to bed. It wasn’t on now, his boxers pulled down to expose his groin to her touch.

She was grinding against him, her wetness coating his hardening cock as she kissed him fully awake. Levi’s eyes widened when he felt her slick center sliding up and down his length, his gasp making her pull away and grin.

“Morning sunshine.” Y/N cooed, leaning down for another kiss, her breasts pressing against his chest.

“Y/N....what the hell?” Levi croaked, his hands flying to her hips to hold her in place. He was going to lose the thin strands of control if she kept it up.

She whispered against his ear, making him shiver. “I remember last night. I remember you saying we were too drunk. But I’m sober now and I still want you.”

His fingers dug into her hips, his body flipping hers over to be underneath him. She shouted out a small laugh from shock, making him grin down at her.

“You sure? I don’t want to pressure you.” Levi asked, his expression sincere.

She held a hand up against his cheek. “I’ve wanted you for a long time Levi. And I know you want me to.

Levi leaned down and kissed her gently, feeling her acceptance in the movement of her lips against his. He reached over into the nightstand and pulled out a silver foiled packet. He had bought some hoping that eventually she would want to take that step and he wanted to make sure she was protected when that happened.

He pulled back, kneeling as he went to rip the packet open. Y/N stopped him, taking the the condom from him and opening it. She put it on him, making him shudder as she rolled it down his length. He moaned when she squeezed him gently before lying back and crooking her finger at him, beckoning him to come closer.

Levi drank in the sight of her under him, knowing that it was special. He moved in between her thighs, placing himself at her entrance and looking back up to her for the go ahead.

She reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss as he pushed inside her tight core. Fully seating himself in her passage, he absorbed her gasp as he filled her for the first time.

Her hips moved against him, her plea for him to move filling his ear. He pulled back and surged forward again, making her moan out his name.

A thrill ran down his spine at hearing her say his name in that tone. He wanted to hear it again. Levi started driving into her at a steady pace, his hips moving back and pushing forward, his groans at the feel of her growing louder with each movement.

Y/N urged him on, her breath cries and calling out her pleasure filling their apartment as he rocked into her. She was lifting her hips to meet his thrusts, hating the feel of when he pulled back. Love the feel of him inside her as he pushed against her g spot.

He especially loved when she was crying out his name, each time pushing him closer to the edge of insanity as he felt her pulsing around him. She was close as well, making him harden even more at the idea of her cumming around him.

She shattered, screaming out his name when he pushed into her again, her walls clenching around him as she shook. Her legs that were locked around his waist were trembling as her juices poured over him.

Levi groaned and started moving faster. The feeling over her clenching him tight making him chase his own release. His arms went around her, pulling her up against him as he drove himself deep into her shuddering as he came into the condom.

He pulled away and looked down at her face, breathless with exertion. She looked beautiful and satisfied as she gave him a lazy smile.

“Holy shit.” Y/N muttered, making him snort. “I’m thirsty.”

Levi nodded and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll get you some water. Let me throw this away.”

He got up and walked into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wipe up, coming out to grab his boxers to throw on before disappearing out of the bedroom to get her some water.

~~~~~

“Finally grew some balls, huh runt?”

Levi stopped dead in his tracks at the smug sound of his uncles voice. He whipped his head around to see Kenny sitting on the couch, looking comfortable like he had been there for a moment.

“Kenny! What the fuck are you doing here!” Levi shouted.

He heard Y/N’s yell of surprise and embarrassment and a thud as she most likely hit the floor in an attempt to get out of the bed. He heard her scrambling around in his bed, cursing a blue streak.

His uncle ignored his question to look down the hall and yell out. “Sounds like he did the family name proud, girl!”

Levi growled threatening as he flushed red. Kenny laughed when he heard Y/N mutter “Oh my God” like she could curl up and die.

He was still grinning as he looked back at his nephew. The boy looked incredibly pleased with himself when he had come into the living room. Now he looked like he wanted to make Kenny disappear or die himself.

“We were supposed to meet for brunch. Remember? Didn’t show, didn’t call. So I decided to check on you. Turns out, you couldn’t hear me for all that damn noise you were making back there.” Kenny taunted, making Levi close his eyes in mortification.

“LEVI!!!! Where are my clothes?!?!” Levi winced as Y/N’s frantic voice came down the hall. He had put all her clothes in the washer after showering.

Kenny laughed before getting up. “Keep ‘em naked boy! That’s the thinking!”

“Shut up, Kenny!” Levi shot back.

Levi turns and starts marching back to the bedrooms to get Y/N some clothes to change into.

“What does it matter girl? Your going to be an Ackerman one day anyway, its good that you enjoyed the runt!” Kenny yelled down the hall to Y/N. “Now hurry your asses up and get dressed for brunch. I’m hungry and I have a feeling you’re starving after your workout!”

Levi seethed as he heard Kenny laughing to himself over his horrible jokes. He was slapping his knee and Levi just knew that he was thinking up a thousand other ways to torment them over brunch.

He slammed the door to his room as soon as he entered it, raising an eyebrow at Y/N wrapped in his sheets. He smiled at her horrified expression and knew that she was perfect for him.

He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “He’s right you know.” Levi muttered.

“Huh?” She gives him a confused look.

He grinned as he handed her the clothes. “You will be an Ackerman one day.”

Levi laughed as her jaw dropped at him so causally stating that he was going to marry her. “Hurry up, that asshole is just going to continue to torment us if we take too long. Let’s get the brunch over with so we can get rid of him.”

Y/N groaned at the idea of all the jokes Kenny was going to tease them with during their family brunch.

Mobile MasterList

#levi modern au #levi ackerman modern au #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader

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cecilspeaks · 4 years

Text

166 - Delta

The stars tell us our future. They’re rarely correct, but yet there they are, blathering on night after night. Welcome to Night Vale.

At the foot of a sandy hill, a woman explains to her son what a flower is. She’s pointing at an orange starburst atop a squat bulbous cactus. She says: “Flowers are beautiful, aren’t they?” I cannot hear what her son says. She answers: “Because bees like beautiful things and flowers want the bees to take their pollen, that little bit of yellow powder, right down there inside, and give it to other plants, so they can grow up and be beautiful too.” There’s a long pause. Then she says: “Nature wants to make more and more beauty all the time. That’s all it wants to do. If it is not beautiful, it cannot live.” She’s upset at her son’s next question. “Humans wish to make beauty too, but not for nature,” she snaps. “They want computers and airplanes and factories, oh Benny, don’t touch.” She sighs. Then she says: “The cactus hurt you, didn’t it? The cactus knows you’re human and it does not want you to watch it, and now it has let you know that, you won’t touch it again, will you? No Benny, you won’t.”

Underneath the scant shade of a dilapidated wing of an MD-90 aircraft, a middle aged man tells another middle aged man about a time he went to New Orleans. He thought the French Quarter was too crowded and the jazz scene overrated, so he drove east along the upper neck of the Mississippi Delta to a Swapshack, where he paid a man 50 dollars to take him on a hovercraft to look at alligators. “Such majestic and hideous creatures,” the middle aged man says to the other. “You know, when I was little, I cried thinking about how I would never see a real live dinosaur. All the world had left were bones. But right there in southern Louisiana lay dozens of living dinosaurs. It’s an extraordinary world when you finally realize that all life is magic,” he says. The other middle aged man had heard the story dozens of times, but still he replies: “I hear you, I hear you.”

A young woman thinks about a job interview she never attended. She is happy without that job, yet she feels regret for what could have been. “I cannot imagine myself behind a desk making spreadsheets and memos,” she says to no one. “But I cannot imagine a 5-dimensional horse, nor the width of the void, nor the language of whales. I cannot imagine a lot of things but the pay, the pay would have been pretty good.”

Behind a blighted Palo Verde Tree, hidden between lush acacia shrubs, two teenaged boys kiss for the 50th time or so. It is brief, as one stops to look around, on alert for overbearing parents. They kiss for the 51st time or so and then laugh. Their fingers clumsily fumbling over each other, trying to decide on the perfect grip, the perfect touch. They melt like marshmallows in the flame of inexperienced joy. This moment in their lives is as pure and powerful as they have ever felt and may ever feel again.

My mind is crowded with voices, with people living their lives all day listeners. these are the stories, they are eating fruit and playing cards. They are arguing about who said what and when. They are meditating and conversing, retelling old shows and books they remember from when they had such things. A copy of Tina Fey’s memoir “Bossy Pants” was found in a suitcase seven years ago, and everyone in the group has read it at least once. Someone mutters that they used to have a copy of Karen Russel’s “Swamplandia!”. It was in her purse when they landed here, but someone won’t own up to stealing it. another says the book might have been used to make a fire one night, because whoever made the fire might have thought the owner was done reading it, hypothetically.

It’s been several days since the voices came into my head, and at first it was new and interesting, but already I have grown tired of it. I do not know how Amelia Anna Alfaro lived her whole life with these sounds in her mind. It’s unceasing and I’ve not gotten much sleep. The teenage lovers sneak away each night to hold hands and talk big dreams underneath the moon. It’s sweet and romantic, but at 2 AM, give it a rest boys! I could try to talk back, but none of the voices can hear me. It’s like asking the rain to return to its cloud. But when I talk to Carlos, the voices go way. Thankfully I have my greatest peace when I’m with my favorite person. I can’t keep Carlos awake at all hours or have him skip work to be with me, so I have to learn to make peace with the voices, as they are noisy but permanent room mates in my brain now.

I do have news to report, but it’s mostly stuff you already know about. The high school basketball team has tryouts on Saturday. The library is doing open mic poetry nights on Tuesdays at 7, and we all know it’s a trap. Don’t do it unless you’re well armed. And the Opera House is extending its run of Verdi’s “2 Fast 2 Furious”, starring Renée Fleming, through the end of the month.

It’s hard to concentrate on reading these news stories with so much other language running through my head. Like this: there’s a guy who’s complaining about metal scraps that haven’t been cleaned, and the woman he’s talking to is explaining that they are conserving water for drinking and the guy is saying that it’s unsanitary to make dining utensils out of dirty metal, and she replies that they’re not making any more forks or spoons, they don’t need any more forks or spoons, they need knives but not for eating. What am I supposed to do with this information, it’s been going on nonstop for days? You cannot possibly understand what its’ like to listen to someone you don’t know, who you’ve never even met, who you can’t even see, ramble on and on about their boring personal life straight into your head, it’s awful. I can hear another person saying he’s found something. Good for you pal, way to find another rock or stick or lizard or whatever.

Wait. “Weeeee have founnnnnd ittt,” the voice says. I know this voice. It’s the first voice that’s been familiar to me, where do I know this voice, he is saying “first weeeeeeeee found you. You who are – no where – now weeeeeee have founnnnnnnd itt.” And other men are barking in agreement. Listeners, that voice is Doug Biondi from the asylum, and the voices around him are the agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau, all of whom escaped the Night Vale Asyulm two months ago. They are in nowhere, in an otherworld desert standing near a door attached to no building. Not far from a passenger set, long since rotted away. A jet that has been home to 143 passengers and crew members, one of those 143 – the pilot. Asylum warden Charles Rainier warned us of this. He had been a been a passenger on that plane, he became part of a small commune that grew into an angry cult under the leadership and telepathic influence of the pilot. Charles told us that the pilot would find those who could help him find Night Vale. Help him find the real world, and Doug Biondi knows the way back.

The pilot found Doug and Doug found the pilot. “Iii know the wayyy,” Doug Biondi says, laughing the laugh of a man whose smile is too big for his face. At the foot of a sandy hill, a mother tells her son it is time. “Stop crying, Benny. Stop crying so that there will be more flowers, more beauty.”

Underneath the scant shade of a dilapidated wing of an MD-90 air craft, two middle aged men argue over which hand made axe is sharper. At last, they agree that the one crafted from the rotor flap and held together with the hand belt is the better blade. “No you take it,” one says. “No, I insist you, I’m happy to use the smaller axe,” the other says, “because it is easier to manage what with my back spasms.”

And behind a blighted Paolo Verde Tree, hidden between lush acacia shrubs, two teenage boys kiss the way you kiss when you think it may be your last. They whisper impossible promises and raise high their rusty shovels, the spades’ tips having already been sharpened to deadly points. They race toward the gathering crowd.

A young woman who thinks often about the job interview she never attended shouts: “Nature is beauty!” “We are beauty!” replies antoher woman. They repeate these calls. “Nature is beauty! We are beauty!” And now every voice in my head is chanting the phrases, chanting and chanting and chanting, it’s too… it’s too much!

Silence. They’re silent suddenly. My head is clear. I can think my own thoughts.

Night Vale, I’m getting word that Sheriff Sam is barring all known passages into our town. This includes roads, trails, sewer grates, even the Dog Park which is not officially an entrance to the Desert Otherworld, but you know, let’s be honest here. We’re on lockdown, Night Vale. No one enters or leaves.

Good. This is good. If the voices can reach me, they can reach any of us. In fact, if the voices can enter my mind, then the pilot and passengers of flight 18713 may well already be here, or some of them anyway. Or maybe the voices come and go. This is the first moment of silence I’ve had alone in nearly a week. Maybe the voices aren’t always there like, like radio signals as you leave a city or, or a cell phone in an elevator, maybe the voices can’t permeate us under certain conditions or maybe… Or maybe… The voices are silent because… they are listening. Maybe they’re listening to their leader, their pilot who is giving instructions on what to do next, when and where to attack.

I don’t know. But I must use my moment of clarity to tell you some news. Nope, the voices are back. A single voice is back. I know, without knowing, that it is the voice of the pilot. He says: [in a neutral tone] “Uh, hi there, this is your pilot speaking. Just wanted to let you know that nature is beauty, we are beauty. We propagate our pollen, we spread our seeds, we grow new life over old life, we cleanse the toxins of technology. We depose the human king and return natural instinct to its rightful throne. If you can hear my voice, then you are chosen. You are chosen to join all who join our nature. All who join our beauty. All who refuse will be recycled into the earth, destroyed and dispersed to fertilize new more beautiful life. All those who are beautiful are chosen. All those who are not, are a cancer, blight, infection and disease. All who are not beautiful will be cut away, amputated, so that the Earth’s wounds may finally leave, so the Earth may grow beautiful once again.

We have been found and we will return. Open the gates to freedom, end the tyranny of artifice. That’s all for now, we’ll be arriving in just a few moments, Night Vale. There is going to be some turbulence.”

[distraught] I’m sorry, listeners! I did not meant to do that, I did not want to do that! The voice of the pilot overtook me and I, oh, I need to lock myself inside the studio, I have to protect you from me, but first the weather.

[“A Prayer for the Sane” by Danny Schmidt http://dannyschmidt.com]

I brought Carlos to the studio. When I talk to Carlos, I don’t hear the voices of the passengers from 18713. I don’t hear the voices even now as I look directly at Carlos while I’m speaking. Like Charles Rainier’s fishing hole or, or Amelia Anna Alfaro’s puzzles, Carlos grounds me, lets me be wholly me.

Thank you, Carlos.

Oh, I also had Carlos bring a pair of handcuffs with him that he bought at –Target on his way to the station, and used them to shackle me to my desk. If Charles Rainier is correct, then once the pilot can speak to you, he can control you. And if that should happen, it won’t happen but if it should, then now I won’t be able to leave here and do harm to anyone else.

From my window, I can see far down the street a spiral of black smoke. There are flashes of emergency sirens. Now I can see people coming up the road. They are long-haired, sun-scorched and nearly naked, wearing not much more than flat wide-brimmed hats and short tunics fashioned from seat upholstery. These people are carrying large blades, roughly honed from scrap metal. Some have widdled down pieces of plexiglass windows into sharp points and tied them to ends of long sticks. They’re deliberately walking up the hoods of parked cars and smashing windows and caving in the roofs with their bare feet.

It is no doubt that the passengers of 18713 are here, Night Vale. If you can hear me, sty inside and lock your doors. If you can her the pilot, then do as I have done. Secure your position so securely that not even your own mind can talk you out of it. Sheriff Sam has stubbornly kept up all roadblocks in and out of town, so we have no choice but to stay. The long unmoving lines of traffic at the edges of the city are easy prey now for the 18713. The pilot offered the choice of joining or refusing, but it is not a choice, not really. He either can control you or he cannot. Those whom he cannot control will be killed at the hands of those who can.

[anxiously] Carlos? You don’t hear the pilot voice, and thus cannot be controlled. But I do, and I can. I have been controlled. We’re in trouble, Carlos. I can’t stay chained to this desk forever, can I? And if the pilot means to destroy you, he might make – me do it myself. Just promise me you’ll run. Leave me behind if that happens, OK? OK. But for now, do not let me out of these cuffs, not even if I use a safe word, which I hear is something quite a few people use in healthy fun intimate relationships.

The people of 18713 are climbing up storefronts and tearing off signs. I can see about 10 or 15 in normal street clothes in the crowd now, which means the group is growing. They are recruiting quickly.

But something else is eating at me. In the asylum, in Doug Biondi’s journal and among the myriad voices in my mind, I still have not seen nor heard Amelia Anna Alfaro, the first person to make contact with the pilot. She disappeared in 2012 and no one has heard from her since. I need to find her. Somehow, if anyone can solve this, it might be her. She was always the best at everything.

Stay tuned next for the sound of me talking to Carlos forever and ever.

Good night, Night Vale. [creepily] Gooood night.

Today’s proverb: People who live in glass houses shouldn’t hire that realtor again.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 166 #delta

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