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seeingivy · 15 hours

Text

see you soon

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

songs mentioned: birds of a feather by billie eilish, see you soon by beabadoobee (small mention + name of chapter), and this love by taylor swift

previous part linked here

Eren’s embarrassed when he wakes up the next morning.

Not immediately. Because when his eyes finally flicker open from the sunlight streaming in from the windows, the only thing that he feels is an overwhelming headache and a dry patch in his throat. His head spins slightly when he sits up, eyes puffy underneath his fingertips, and he regrets ever taking advice from two borderline alcoholics just because it was their wedding.

But when he’s finally able to somewhat endure that pulsating feeling in his head and fully flicker his eyes open, he looks to his left to find you still in his bed.

It wasn’t a dream.

He was almost half convinced that it was – that you weren’t actually whispering into his skin that you loved him still, borderline begging him like he once did to you in the dark of night.

He was wrong.

He leans forward, tucking the stray strands of hair out of your face, only to find that you’re still fast asleep, your breaths deep and labored. Eren can’t help but smile as he brushes the back of his hand against the softness of your cheek – knowing you’d be irritated that you fell asleep with your makeup on when you woke up and borderline homicidal from your hangover.

It’s only when Eren moves slightly to the right that he catches sight of your neck, and the little purple mark he accidentally left last night, that the regret, the deep searing embarrassment, seeps in.

Because all he gets are flashes of the night prior – of his lips on your neck, of how badly he wanted the begging to be true, of the warmth that was pooling in his stomach when he passed out next to you.

He got too carried away. Maybe you had too.

There were a hundred possible reasons that could explain what you said – that the sweetness of the wedding had gotten to you, that you too were plagued by the eerie deja vu, or really, that the sinking feeling that things were ending and you’d never see each other again was starting to feel too permanent, that you wanted to pretend.

Eren pauses.

That’s what it had to be.

It was for posterity. That things were ending and…and that simply had to be the last time that you kissed. Not an awkward half kiss with Levi and Hange watching, one that would be displayed to nearly thousands of people in a few months.

You had already given the people enough. One that had to be just yours, after everything else you had given.

Eren can feel the regret digging into his gut as he lightly pushes his hand out of your grasp and decks downstairs.

There’s an urgency to it. The need to repeat what you said to Eren, exactly the way you said it last night.

Because it was one thing if he didn't love you and was trying to spare your feelings. And it was another if he really didn’t remember – and the possibility that he really did love you back was still intact – that it was just lost on deaf ears.

You were positive that he did. That it had to be the latter and not the former – because Mikasa and Jean wouldn’t push you, Connie wouldn’t give Eren more hurt than he could handle, and Levi wouldn't be talking you into it if it wasn’t something that was good for you.

You just had to muster the courage to do it again.

You slip your hand into Eren’s at your side, ignoring as everyone starts crowding around Levi and waiting for instructions, and lightly pull at his hand. You look up and watch as he processes the sensation, almost wholly confused by it as he looks down at you.

You wonder if he even realized when you put your hand in his.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you whisper.

He slips his hand out of yours immediately.

“What?”

His eyes are nearly boggling out of his skull and you cringe. Maybe you shouldn’t confess your love while he’s still hungover.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make it like a thing. I just wanted to chat, whenever you have a second.”

Eren frowns.

You don’t know what it means. You don’t know what any of it means – that you leaned forward and he let you kiss him, that Levi had tried to convince you to do this, and that for the first time, you’re actually not sure if you’re doing the right thing.

“Eren. Y/N, could you pay attention?” Levi asks.

You whip your head to the side to find the group of them all looking at you, as you awkwardly pull your hand out of Eren’s and give Levi a nod. You can feel your hand shaking at your side as you shove it into the warmth of your underarms, giving Levi and Hange the indication that you’re paying attention.

“Earth to Eren. Are you with us?” Hange asks, head hanging forward as they wait for a response.

You turn your head back to him to find that he’s still staring at you and you swallow hard. You raise your eyebrows at him, which is enough to restore some semblance of bearings to him, as he shakes his head, almost like he’s disoriented, and turns to Levi.

“Sorry. Ye-yes.” Eren responds, though you barely believe him.

“Okay, well. If you guys do this well enough, this is the last scene we’ll film.” Levi states.

There’s a quiet murmur that goes around the room, as you watch everyone give each other almost excited glances, and note that Levi fights every muscle in his face to not smile. There’s an almost unsettling, but electric finality in Levi’s words – and really, in knowing the fact, that it’s likely you’ll all get the scene done in one take and then be done with it.

And that for the majority of them, they’ll walk away and never return again. You wonder if Eren will walk out of here with you, like you were so sure he was going to a few hours ago.

You turn your head to the side, to Mikasa who offers you a halfhearted smile. You return it.

“Let’s walk over together then.” Levi states.

The smallest glimmer of hope that was flaring so brightly in your chest dims the slightest bit, but it’s stubborn. At the very least – you’d get your point across. That Eren had his doubts, rightfully so, but you were going to make your point abundantly clear.

That you won’t let this love die out a second time.

Mikasa wraps her arm around your wrist, and Connie wraps his arm around Eren’s shoulder, as the group of you all drag your feet to set for the last time.

Eren gets to direct the last scene.

It’s Levi and Hange’s wrap gift to Eren. They had given him full reign to write so much of the last season and to them, it was only fair that one of the best things he had written, one of the perfect ends to the season, would get to fully play out the way that he had imagined it.

And that he’d get to sign his name on with theirs at the end of it.

From your vantage point, with his little fake head secured in your hands, you can tell that he’s excited. He’s animatedly pointing everything out to the crew, adjusting the lights and the positions as you all wait for your marks, teeming with your own nervousness.

You love him. You want to scream it from the rooftop.

“You’re looking awfully happy.”

You look to your right to find Jean, Mikasa, and Connie at your sides, each of them looping in an arm in with you, as you all direct your gaze back to Eren.

It’s almost hard to process what it is that Connie just said, or really even feel it. All you can really produce is a heavy sigh, one that they all recognize too well, as you lean your head against Mikasa’s.

“Did you guys kiss last night?” Mikasa asks.

“Yeah.” you respond.

“What? You did what?” Connie asks, easily broken from the bittersweetness of the moment – which is replaced with his excitement.

“We kissed.” you repeat again.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, you fuckers actually did it!” Connie states.

“I mean, we didn’t actually –”

“Not you two, dumbass. Jean and Mikasa. I told them their stupid getting you drunk plan wasn’t going to work. And I was fucking wrong.” Connie states.

You turn to the two of them, who give you sly grins, as you elbow Jean in the side.

“Well, it didn’t actually work. I started confessing to him and he didn’t believe me because I was drunk. If anything, you made that more embarrassing for me than it needed to be.”

“Wait, you’re not happy then? He didn’t say it back?” Mikasa asks.

“No. I mean, not really. He just kept saying that I didn’t mean it. I don’t think he realized that I was being honest.”

Connie pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I told you two. It was him that we should have been focusing on, not her. You know how he is.” Connie whispers irritatedly.

“Excuse you. She’s way worse than him. She definitely needed more coaxing than he did.” Mikasa responds back.

“Well, look at where we are now. Poor idiot is so hopeless that she said exactly what he wanted and he didn’t even fucking believe it.” Connie states.

“I’m going to talk to him.” Jean states, making a move to walk towards him.

You reach forward, wrapping your fingers around Jean’s bicep, and pulling back. He looks down at you, an almost seamless blend of irritation and frustration spreading across his face, that you can’t help but smile at.

“Don’t tell me you have cold feet now.” Jean grumbles.

“No. I really appreciate it, from all of you guys, but…”

You turn your head to look back at him, only to find him already looking at you. You shoot him a smile – one that he doesn’t really fully return – before you turn back to the three of them.

“I don’t need your help anymore. I think I’ve got it from here.” you state.

The three of them give you weary eyes before Jean leans forward, eyebrows raised as he questions you.

“You’re not still drunk, are you?”

“No. I just know what I want.” you respond.

You shove him off, earning you from Connie, and proud smiles from Jean and Mikasa, who move to take their cues again. And each of you quietly stand on your little marks, the tape so worn into the ground from the years and years of walking over the hard floors, that it’s basically disintegrated into the wood.

Your response to Jean echoes in your head. That you’re not not drunk, that you just know what you have to do.

You can’t help but note it all as you stand there, how final it all is, with Eren and otherwise. That the light on the right is still kind of broken from the time it fell during season two, that your names are still scribbled into the wall all the way at the right, and that it’s your second to last time standing there.

Your final with everyone else being here.

“On your cue, Y/N.” Eren states, giving you a firm nod, as he focuses his eye on the viewfinder.

You take a deep breath and try to stop the shake in your voice, and clutch the softness of the little pillow in your arms harder. But before you can start, you can’t help but turn back, the subsequent tears collecting in your eyes, more bittersweet than they need to be for the scene.

“You good?” Levi asks.

You feel your chest pang as everyone looks up at you, concentration broken from their focusing, as they all offer you a smile.

“Yeah.” you whisper.

You turn back to your cue, noting the disintegrating tape again, as you take a deep breath.

“Armin.” you whisper.

He turns his head and runs over to you, the screams coming out of his throat so agonizingly painful, that it nearly makes you flinch when he comes over. And it takes a few seconds – for you to sensitize yourself to the screaming – for you to really look at Armin, who's now crouching on the ground with you.

You have to swallow down the tears. That this is Armin, twenty-five years old, self assured and confident Armin, and not the awkward little kid you met ten years ago. That he’s stumbled, fell, but made amends, and that really – his future's so bright that you swear you might be blinded by it.

“You remember now too, don’t you? When Eren came to visit us?”

You wonder if any semblance of Armin’s tears are real – if he really is sad to let this go, if any of them will hold onto this and them as hard as you’re going to. If it’s so agonizing to him to walk away from here and to leave this part of him behind.

“Yeah. I heard…the result of your choice would make the power of the Titans vanish from the world.” Armin pants.

You turn your heads, as you watch Eren pan the camera to the left, where all of them are waiting. Armin slips his hand in yours as he Eren moves the camera away from you, his tears making no inclination of ceasing.

Jean’s voice nearly makes you flinch. All you can think of is Jean crying at Marco’s funeral – that was always tried to act so cool and tough but that there were still the smallest, deepest, sensitive parts of him that seemed to shine through in odd moments. That he had spent a whole year in the hole with Mikasa, just to crawl out of it on top, that he’d get to leave here by her side.

“I remember now. You fucking moron.” Jean murmurs.

And each consequent voice that you hear, that belongs to people that have been so intertwined in your life – so deeply woven into the fabric of everything you’ve known, everything you’ve ever dreamed of since you were fifteen – makes the burning in your eyes consequently get worse.

“Eren…you’re really a…” Reiner starts.

“Eren told me that my mom would go back to being a human being.” Connie states.

That’s not a line from the script. Not the exact one anyways. But you know Connie well enough to know what he’s really referring to – the second chance at life that he got to give himself when he chose to get sober. And really, the second life that he probably gave his mom too.

Annie’s line is the one that gets you.

“He told us to live long…but what about you? We never asked for you to do this. You suicidal blockhead.” she murmurs.

But really, that’s what it is at the core of it. That after you left here, you would all live long – but each of you would be moving in different directions. That some of them would stop dead in the center of the race like Marco or run too far in the wrong direction like Historia.

That you’d start off in pairs but have to finish the race alone, that some of you would drag along in the middle and never really make it to the end.

That no matter how the race ended, it wouldn’t be all together.

There was always that consolation every other time you said goodbye. And weirdly enough, it reminded you of that almost blissful feeling you would have when elementary school would end as a kid. That you’d get to spend time away – but the promise of returning would always be there.

It was almost like practice. To rob yourselves of each other’s company whenever you took a break, but never really, because you did always get to come back.

You can’t help but cry when it’s Falco’s turn.

“Gabi!”

And maybe even worse when it’s Levi’s.

“Did you see that? Seems like this is it. What you dedicated your hearts for.” Levi whispers.

You wonder if Marco’s watching. If he’s seeing every corner that Eren’s panning too – Gabi knocking Falco down from being so excited to hug him, Annie and her dad in one corner, Reiner and his mom in the next. Of you and Armin in the last frame.

You have to swallow down the block in your throat.

“If I stayed here, they wouldn’t give Eren a proper burial.”

Armin sighs.

“Let him rest somewhere quiet.” Armin states.

If you got to have it your way, that’s what you and Eren would get to have. That you’d get to rest somewhere quiet, together. It’s a plagiarized thought – one that you stole from Eren, that he wrote first.

But it was almost too perfect. The thought of you and Eren leaving here, taking a few months off in his sweet little cabin in Ireland, where no one could touch you. He’d lie in the grass, you’d watch the moon, and skinny dip in the ocean whenever you wanted.

“Eren always took a nap near that three.” you state.

Armin smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it’s a good place.”

And you count them – seven steps until you're out of frame – clutching onto the little pillow that’s meant to be Eren’s head in your hands, as you switch on your heel when you’re done. And all fifteen of you turn your heads, eyes expectant as you look at Eren, whose own green eyes are glimmering with tears as he says it.

“I think that’s a wrap guys.” Eren states.

And there’s fifteen pairs of legs dragging to the center, until you’re a terrible mess of tangled arms, and snot filled tears. It’s Connie’s giggly voice and Gabi’s complaining that fills the air – and it’s such a sweet ache that it’s almost painful.

And really – each memory, so arbitrary, so formative – seems to come bubbling to the surface as you stand there, with Reiner’s elbow dangerously close to your eye and the faint smell of Jean’s cologne in your nose.

Levi clears his throat.

“Can I say one thing?”

You all pull out of the hug, limbs still intertwined in every which way, as you look at him. He clears his throat a second time – which should have been the first sign that you wouldn’t be able to stomach what it was that he was going to say if he could barely get it out in the first place.

“There aren’t any words that I can give you that can really put justice to what it is I feel, for each and every single one of you.” Levi starts.

You preemptively wince. It already hurts.

“There is something deeply rewarding about this career and it is most definitely the part that people don’t expect. It’s never been a thing that I really understood, because really, there are so many parts of it that are…are so antithetical to who I am as a person.” Levi states.

He turns to Hange, extending an open arm, before continuing.

“I’m deeply fond of my privacy. I would hate for anyone to know about my love life, let alone speculate on it. And I truly hate a system that, down to its core, is destined to knock people down, to profit on the torturous part of creating art. I never understood why this was something that people dreamed of, why little girls would decide their entire career after watching someone give an impassioned speech on a television screen.”

The group of them all turn to you, teary eyed smiles, as they all offer a quiet laugh.

“I got a taste of it. I acted in my first real movie, La La Land, and fell deeply and inexplicably in love. Not only with the love of my life –”

He offers Hange a wink.

“But, with the world of acting itself. To pretend to be a jazz artist in Los Angeles, a secret spy in the United Kingdom, to live through the highs and lows of life – time and time again. Sometimes I almost found myself getting obsessed with it – letting everything else go, to be someone else. To live a hundred lifetimes in the short one I’ve been given and that really, I’d still get the chance to go miles and miles further, to live a hundred more.”

Levi pauses.

“This is the second time that I’ve found myself having a life I’m finding hard to let go of.”

He turns back to Hange.

“The important parts followed me where I wanted to go the last time…”

And he turns back to you, sparkling tears falling out of his gray eyes, as you swallow a whimper.

“But I know they won’t this time. And god, have you all given me the biggest headache of my fucking life. You’ve all run a hundred directions and…and I’ve chased you all down to each one of them.”

You all laugh.

“I’ve never seen a group of people who are so motivated to have difficulties with one another. Like genuinely, every time I’d come out on top of something, someone else decided to have an issue. One person gets engaged and suddenly I’m hearing you’re begging outside his door everyday for him to take you back. Or you’re breaking each other’s cameras and blocking each other's numbers.”

You turn to Eren, who offers you a joking wink.

“But…I’ve never seen a group of people who are more passionate. Never had people that I wanted to follow to every corner, that I felt so moved to do right by. And I could never be more thankful to have people who were willing to walk with me and my vision, to truly and really, give meaning to the idea of dedicating your hearts.”

Falco presses his cheek to your shoulder.

“Thank you, kids. I know that I’ve made the right choices in picking each of you and I’d do it all again with you in a heartbeat, chasing and all.” Levi finishes.

No one’s able to muster an appropriate response in words. But Eren gives Levi his wrap gift – which seems to be just right. It’s a single page, an arbitrary page ripped out of one of the old scripts.

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s from Marco’s script.” Eren states.

You all peer over Levi’s shoulder, noting the scene and getting an eerie sense of deja vu – of the first time that you were caught off guard with Marco’s death scene.

[Marco]: We haven’t even had a chance to talk this through yet.

And underneath, his inscription on the page.

levi, if this was your idea, i want you dead. you can’t just kill me off!

(just kidding! i know you love me so much that you’ll bring me back somehow :D)

Of course, Levi somehow made it harder than it had to be, again. He had made it a rule at the end of filming each season – that you weren’t allowed to give each other real wrap gifts, because you were always going to be coming back.

It was a strange tradition that occurred after. Since you weren’t allowed to give each other real wrap gifts, it led to everyone getting gag gifts for each other – something that was obviously started by Reiner and Connie – and wholly responsible for the stack of knick knacks that were stuffed in the back of your closet upstairs.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, only to find Eren at your side.

“Your turn.”

You feign shock, pressing your hands on your heart.

“You got a gift for me?”

“Shut up. I technically have two gifts for you, but I can’t give you the second one until later.”

You watch as Eren digs his hands into the folds of his shirt, before pulling out the key necklace that he’s been wearing all of these years. And subsequently watch as he yanks it over his neck and gestures for you to come closer.

“The key necklace?” you ask.

“I believe this is technically stealing a prop, but you know, what they know don’t know won’t hurt them.”

You frown as he places it over your head, yanking your hair out of the chain and readjusting it at the center of your chest.

“Why do you look so annoyed?”

“Well, now my gift looks unoriginal.”

You reach for the bag on the counter, before handing it over to Eren. And you watch the smile spread across his face as he pulls the red scarf out of the tissue paper, and presses it close to his chest.

“The scarf?”

“Yeah. I had the costume designers add our initials on the inner side, because you know, I actually got permission to give you that as a gift.”

You watch as he finds the stitching on the scarf, running his fingers over the black thread, before setting it down and opening his arms up for you.

“You know, you’ve always been such a goody two shoes. You’re supposed to steal this stuff from set and then make it a funny story for the press later."

“But of course. I’m so glad you’re still so humble to be giving me pointers about how this all works years later.”

“One of the things I pride myself on is how grounded I’ve stayed throughout the entire process,” he responds.

You both laugh, as Gabi and Falco come up to your side, excited smiles on their faces. You both give each other a confused look, before looking down at the two of them.

“Hi guys.”

“Hi Eren. Hi Y/N. We have a gift for the two of you.”

The two of them hand you a little package wrapped in white paper.

“The one on top is for Eren. And the second one is yours Y/N.”

The first thing that falls out of the package, that’s meant for Eren, is the magazine cover that Scott had actually mailed you a few weeks prior. And the second is one that you’ve entirely forgotten about, from an interview that you had done with Danny and Sareen.

“Well, you’ve always been shit at giving gifts Falco, but this kind of takes the cake.” you mutter.

“That’s obviously not the gift, dumbass!”

Gabi shoves him in the side.

“The magazine actually reached out to the two of us about doing a similar cover with our inspirations and an interview based on that. And for both of us, that’s always been the two of you. Not only because this is literally your show, but you’ve always been that for both of us. And they agreed to let us include Hange and Levi too, so it could be a whole Generations of Attack on Titan type of thing.”

You smile.

“I know you can’t take back all the shitty interviews and stuff you’ve said. But at least whenever someone looks up Vogue USA, it’ll be us that comes up next to you instead of them. I figured that was at least a little bit better, you know?” Gabi says.

You and Eren turn to each other, eyes nearly glistening, as Eren crouches to his knees to get on Gabi’s level.

“You’re one of the best people I know, you know that?”

“Eren. Don’t get all corny on me!”

“You started it! But really, you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. Both of you do and I’m immensely proud of you.”

You crouch on the ground with the two of them, Falco joining suit next to you, as you wrap your arm around him.

“You’re both going to make one promise to us, okay?” Eren asks.

“What’s that?”

“You’re always going to be on the same side. No matter how popular either of you get or what anyone tries to tell you, I can promise you – you’ll be much better together than you are apart. And I don’t want you to forget that.”

You watch as Falco and Gabi look at each other, self assured smiles on their faces, as they turn back to you, bright eyes.

“Deal.”

“That’s a promise.” Falco repeats.

The two of them wrap their arms around you one more time, before pulling back.

“Gabi, stay back, okay? I have a gift for you.” you state.

You watch as Gabi’s cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, as she tucks the stray flyways around her ears.

“Oh! You got a gift for me? You didn’t really have to.”

You shake your head.

“Are you crazy? Of course I did. And even if I didn’t have to, I really wanted to.”

You reach for the little box, before handing it to her to open.

“One of the first birthday gifts that everyone got me here was a little leatherbound notebook to write my lyrics in. Ever since then, I’ve only ever written in that – or other ones like it once I ran out of space. But it’s a good space to scribble out ideas, or even just fragments of words. Sometimes I find myself going back to phrases that end up being really big for songs later. And if you’re going to be a serious songwriter, I figured you’d need one of your own. And I’d be honored to give you the first one.”

You watch as Gabi squints her eyes at you, trying to blink the wetness out of her eyes.

“Really?”

“Mark my words, you’re going to be the one to watch. And I’ll be right there at your side, whenever you need something.”

You watch as she looks down at the book, running her fingers down on the softness of the leather, before she picks up the pen.

“The pen?”

You smile.

“I hear you’re a big fan of this song I wrote called like…New Year’s Day or something like that. Well, that’s actually the pen that I wrote it with…and most of my songs actually. I wanted you to have it.”

“I can’t take that from you.” she responds, pushing it back into your hands.

You shake your head.

“You most definitely can and will. I know you’ll make good use of it. And well, I think there’s a right time to give things up and pass them on.” you respond.

You watch as she smiles bigger, clutching it close to her heart before she reaches forward and gives you an almost too energetic and excited hug. And you watch as she runs approximately four feet away to where Falco is standing, as she excitedly shows off the gift.

Falco turns over to you and gives you a sly wink – wholly satisfied with the fact that he had a hand in giving her the perfect gift.

You make your way over to the center of the room, where Niccolo’s waiting, as you knock on the table top. He gives you a smile as everyone turns their heads over to you, each of them nursing gifts in their hands.

“I have something for all of you, if I could just have your attention for a second.”

Niccolo’s at your side, handing you the acoustic guitar, which is enough to get all of their attention as they all scoot closer and take a seat on the couch or the floor.

“I figured that it was only fair that you guys got to be the first to hear this news.”

You give Niccolo a nod, as he fixes the right picture onto the projector. It’s a picture of two polaroids side by side – the one on the left being the first group picture that you took on the first day of filming season one and the one on the right being the first picture from the start of season four.

And at the bottom, your handwriting in black marker – the letters spelling out Birds of a Feather.

“I’m so excited to share with you guys that my fifth studio album, one that’s entirely mine, is going to be coming out on June 11th.”

“No fucking way. You…you’re coming back for real?” Reiner asks.

You give him a nod and watch as all of their faces spread wide in shock, before you’re met with a sound of the sweetest cheers. And they all start whispering to each other excitedly, pointing out their faces on the cover, as you all gesture for them to be quiet with your hands.

“I wasn’t done. That would be such a lame thing to announce right now.”

“What do you mean? I’m about to go crazy about this on Twitter.” Connie responds.

You roll your eyes.

“The reason that I wanted to tell you guys is because I wanted to show you guys the tracklist.”

You give Niccolo a nod, as he switches it to the next slide, and watch as they all read it.

“Wait. These are…these are our songs. That you wrote with us.” Sasha states.

“That’s right! Birds of a Feather is the last song on the album because it’s the first one that I was able to write by myself. But every single one that comes before it is one of our songs, so I figured that it was only fair that you all got writing credits for them. I wouldn’t have been able to write that one if you hadn’t gotten me to write the ones that came before.”

Connie stands up from his seat. “You’re giving us all writing credits?”

You give him a nod.

“Oh my fucking god. I’m about to be an Institute Award winning writer.” Connie says.

You snort as they all laugh, before walking up closer to read the set list, each of them pointing out their respective songs. You look over your shoulder at Niccolo, your new tried and trusted producer for the foreseeable future, and blow him a kiss.

“The eleventh song is blank.” Reiner states.

“Right. I haven’t written that one yet. It’s for Eren’s request, I just haven’t had a chance to get to it yet.”

You watch as Jean shoves Connie in the side, before leaning closer to you.

“Calling it now. Some variation of the word love or lover is going to be in the title.” Jean states.

Connie snickers as you roll your eyes and gesture for them to return back to their seats and Niccolo hands you the guitar pick.

“Okay, well. This one is Birds of a Feather, guys.”

And I don't know what I'm cryin' for I don't think I could love you more It might not be long, but, baby, I Don't wanna say goodbye

Birds of a feather We should stick together, I know (till the day that I die) I said I'd never Think I wasn't better alone (till the light leaves my eyes) Can't change the weather Might not be forever (till the day I die) But if it's forever it's even better

You look to your left, your fingers slightly stinging from the metal of the guitar strings as you turn to Eren, Levi, and Hange and smile.

I knew you in another life You had that same look in your eyes I love you, don't act so surprised

The group of them all give you a set of cheers – Connie and Gabi pressing wet kisses to your cheeks and Mikasa ruffling your hair – as they all excitedly get closer to the screen and take pictures. It gives you a chance to find Historia alone on the couch, as you offer her a smile.

“Is it meant to be a big fuck you to me that you put everyone’s songs there but mine?” Historia asks.

You roll your eyes.

“The exact opposite actually. That song is my gift to you actually. It’s yours, entirely. It was a little bit too personal of me to share without your permission. And even if you give permission, I think you should be the one to share that with people and get full flowers for the masterpiece that you wrote.”

Historia smiles, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“I was about to write a whole song about how much of a bitch you were.” she jokes.

You snort.

“Don’t worry. I was already writing a counter response about how much I loved you.”

You watch as Historia wrinkles her nose before leaning forward and leaning her weight against you. Her grasp only seems to get tighter as you return the affection, soaking in the sweet vanilla smell for one of the last times in the foreseeable future.

The following morning happens too fast. Because Jean and Mikasa are finishing getting everything packed up and Niccolo and Sasha are eating breakfast, and in the blink of an eye, the three hours you had dwindled down to all of you standing on the porch, teary eyed.

And it’s really silent, quiet hugs and smiles, before the sets of cars arrive, that you all really turn to each other – and realize that you have to leave.

And you’re able to handle it considerably well, with Eren at your side, the two of you swallowing down that scratchy feeling in your throat as you say goodbye to Sasha, Niccolo, and Reiner. And it goes well for the most part, watching each of them duck their heads into their cars and give one last wave before they drive away.

That is until Connie, Jean, and Mikasa walk up to you, each of them with the biggest of smiles on their faces.

“Hey guys.” Mikasa says.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the tears that are rising up away, as you look at her.

“Hey.” you respond.

“That was the first thing you ever said to her.” Jean states.

You widen your eyes.

“Really?”

“No. I’m just fucking with you, I made that up.”

You shove him in the side, as the group of you laugh, before Connie pulls all of you closer, everyone linking their arms around each other's shoulders and making a little circle. And you all lean your heads against each other – unable to muster any semblance of words that can put meaning to any of the feelings – as you watch from afar.

Niccolo and Sasha leave together, but not before Sasha blows all of you one last kiss. Gabi and Falco are accompanied by a very annoyed Colt. Reiner’s last hug is to Hange and surprisingly, he’s the first one to break Levi.

“Our car is the last one there, the black.” Jean states.

You and Eren give each other a look, as you all unlock your arms from the circle and smile at each other.

“Enjoy your honeymoon, guys. And don’t give us a godchild too fast. I still haven’t gotten over my fear of children. Or pregnant women…” you state.

“You’re scared of pregnant women?” Jean asks.

“You didn’t know that? They like freak her out.” Eren states.

“They don’t freak me out. I just…can’t think about it for too long. So give me some time, Mikasa.”

The two of them shake their heads, almost like they’re annoyed by the thought, before they pull you in for their last hugs. And you can’t help but feel your heart sink as you watch the two of them walk away, at the last wave as they offer before they get tucked into their car.

Connie’s the last one standing.

“My car’s here too.” Connie states.

You and Eren turn to face him, getting the slightest shiver from the cold air, as you both turn to him.

“I’ll see you guys again?” Connie states.

You both smile, biting down on the hardness of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling too hard.

“Of course you will.”

“I’ll be the first to visit you guys wherever you end up after filming that last scene.”

You and Eren turn to each other and smile, before shaking your heads at him.

“Okay, Connie. We’ll get together.” Eren states.

Connie smiles, reaching forward to cup one of your cheeks and place his free hand on Eren’s shoulder, before he squeezes both of your skin.

“I’m glad. Now that I’ve given my last ditch effort at attempting matchmaking for the two of you, I’ll finally be able to tell you all about my girlfriend.”

“Your what?” you ask.

Connie gives you a wink.

“See you guys later.” he responds, walking off with his bag.

You and Eren turn to each other, eyes wide.

“He has a girlfriend?” you whisper.

“I didn’t know he has a fucking girlfriend. You know, you can’t just fucking say that and walk off into the fucking distance, Connie!” Eren shouts.

“Watch me!” Connie responds, tucking his head into the back of the car, before slamming the door shut.

Eren crosses his hands over his chest.

“What a fucking prick. That’s way dramatic, even for him.”

“I will admit, that’s so on brand for him that I can’t even be annoyed about it. “

“I’ll fucking say.”

You and Eren stand there on the pavement, socks cold on the gravel, with Levi and Hange standing a few feet away on the porch, as you watch the cars drive off and feel the silence hang in the air. And it’s only when Connie’s car disappears into the horizon that the thoughts return – the doubts of what you and Eren would actually have to confront now – as you turn over to him at your left.

“Hi.”

Eren smiles.

“Hey.”

“Ready to talk?”

Eren nods.

“I’m all yours.”

You and Eren trudge back to the front, where Levi and Hange are waiting, as you trail back in and lock the door behind you.

“Can you meet us at the table? We’re just going to grab the scripts and then talk about the next few days.” Hange asks.

“Yeah, sure.”

You and Eren walk down the hall, hands brushing against each other, as Eren turns to look at you. Hange and Levi return within the minute, each of them handing you a script with your names inked in bright green marker.

“I thought there wasn’t any dialogue for this. Like last time.” you state.

“We’re doing something a little different than last time.” Hange states.

“We’re going to film this that Hange and I wrote scene three days from now. And you’re not allowed to see each for those three days, until we film that scene.”

“What?” you ask.

“The scene is fairly simple, but…we need you guys to really nail it. But besides that, I want you guys to really get into the character work for it and really think about what it would be like to see each other after time apart, to be isolated like that alone.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine and all. But can we like delay the whole…not seeing each other thing for like an hour?” you ask.

Levi frowns.

“No. That’s like the entire point. It doesn’t exactly work if you get to talk before it happens.”

“Okay, I get that. But..” you start.

“No buts. You’re going to do this. It’s just three days. You guys have willingly gone without talking for longer than that.”

You glare at him.

“And you complained plenty about that. First you want us to talk to each other and then you’re physically stopping us from doing so?”

Hange gives you an apologetic smile as Levi stands up, shuffling off towards the end of the hallway, as Hange follows. You turn to Eren, heaving a deep sigh as you look at him.

“I guess I’ll see you in a few days?” Eren asks.

“Yeah. You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when they said that we were going to be here alone.”

Eren shrugs.

“Me neither. But that’s just kind of how it goes.” Eren responds.

“I’ll see you in three days, I guess.”

Eren smiles.

“It’ll pass by before you know it.” Eren offers.

Eren wondered if the time was passing as slowly as it was for you as it was for him.

The slow rotation of things that he had been using to fill the time on the first day – walking the length of the block, packing up the last of his things, and flipping through all of the books left in his room – were doing little to help him on the second day.

In all honesty, he was starting to get antsy. Too nervous for his own good.

And every little nervous thought that he had – about whatever it is that you had to say to him, the sheer embarrassment of letting himself go too far the night of the wedding, of never getting to feel the safe comfort of this house again – was culminating his headspace into a wasteland for good thoughts.

Eren wondered if it was possible to feel nostalgia for something if he was still in the depths of it. Or really, he knew for a fact that you could – but just wasn’t sure how it was exactly possible.

Because deep in the pit of his stomach, he was dreading the fact that in two days, the three of you were going to lock up this house and never return. That even if he got to return, it would never feel the same as it did before and whatever time he had spent here, it had already passed by him in front of his eyes and he hadn’t noticed until it was almost over.

It was a different sort of nostalgia, he supposed. Because it was one thing to be outside, playing with your friends for the last time and not realizing it was the last, but another to know that you were standing in the halls of all you had ever known and knowing in full that you were going to walk away from it and it was never going to be the same.

Eren reaches for the box closest to him, filled with the polaroids that he had picked to keep, and picks the first one out that he could find.

A picture of you and Armin at his sides, your cheeks resting on his shoulders in front of the brightly lit candles of his sixteenth birthday cakes.

It almost bothers him. That he can’t remember the exact moment the picture flashed – or really anything that happened after. But there’s the smallest amount of solace that Eren gets from looking at the pictures too.

Only because he knows that the person in the picture, who was so inexplicably happy, is still buried somewhere deep within him – and that at the very least, he’ll get to carry that person wherever he goes.

There’s a knock at the door, followed by a pair of footsteps that belong to Hange and Levi, who plop down at his side. Eren quickly tosses the picture back into the box, before offering the two of them a smile and hiking his knees closer to his chest.

“You okay?” Hange asks.

Eren smiles.

“Just feeling nostalgic.”

“Tell me about it.” Hange responds.

“How’s Y/N?” Eren asks.

Levi turns to face him and gives him an irritated glare.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“Yes, Levi. That’s obviously why I asked.”

“If you must know, she’s very irritated with me. She gave me some choice words when I had breakfast with her yesterday morning.”

“Yeah, well. She had something she wanted to talk to me about. We kind of –”

“You guys kissed while you were drunk at the wedding. Well, she technically initiated the kiss and the second and the third. And it was only because she got carried away after you didn’t believe her when she was trying to tell you that she loved you.” Hange finishes.

Eren turns his head to the side.

“What?”

“She told us.”

“Well, she told you wrong. She did try to…confess to me and begged me to kiss her, but I was the one who leaned forward. And the one who kissed her the second and the third time.” Eren clarifies.

Levi snorts.

“You remember?” Levi asks.

“Do you think that’s just something I can forget?” Eren asks.

“Well, my previous source seemed to think it was plausible.”

Eren frowns.

“She doesn’t remember.” Eren mumbles.

“Well, you did have a lot to drink.”

It suddenly makes sense to Eren – almost too much sense. The reason that you were so insistent about talking was because you weren’t sure that he reciprocated the feelings. Not because you were so bothered by what had happened that night.

“She really said that?” Eren asks.

If you were the tiniest shred of overthinking capacities like Eren did, which he knew for a fact that you did, he figured that you had already spun the story ten different ways in your head. That you were probably simmering over there, nervously itching to say what you had wanted – similar to the way that he had felt for weeks when you had actually returned.

“She thinks you don’t remember anything that happened that night. And because of it, she’s going to repeat exactly what it was that she said to you, again. Just to know the answer for sure”

Eren leans back against the frame of the bed, angling his head up towards the peeling wallpaper on the ceiling. Hange and Levi join him at his sides, the three of them watching hte fan spin around and cast shadows on the wall.

“Why are you telling me?” Eren asks.

“Do you believe in signs, Eren?” Hange asks.

“Hange.” Levi berates.

“Fuck off. Answer the question, Eren.”

Eren pauses.

“Sometimes. Why?”

Hange leans to the side, before handing him a book.

The Complete and Collected Poems of Maya Angelou.

Marco’s poetry book.

“You know, this was a gift to you guys. Why are you giving it back?”

“Open it to the marked page.”

Eren sits up, spreading his fingers over the top of the pages before he finds the dent and pulls open to the page.

Have enough courage to trust love one more time and almost one more time.

“Right. Are you about to give me a whole lecture about –”

“Look at who marked the page.”

Eren looks back at the bottom of the page, only to find his own writing staring back at him. And it’s only then that he remembers that this was a gift that Marco had given to him – at his last birthday party before the two of you broke up, when you passed out in his bed from how exhausted you were instead of blowing out the candles with him.

“Not that I believe in any of this shit, but…but we were cleaning up the room before we were going to come talk to you before going to bed. And it just fell on the floor, straight off the shelf, and opened to that exact page.”

Eren gets it now.

“Do you believe in signs, Eren?” Hange asks, again.

Eren slams the book shut. He wasn’t exactly the superstitious type, but he could trust in the things that he knew were tried and true.

And Marco did make a promise to haunt him from the grave. And he was never one to break a promise.

“Yes. I most definitely do believe in signs.” Eren answers.

“Levi. Did you…did you empty this out?”

“Why on Earth would I do that?”

You set the glass jar down, before dropping to the floor and running your hands over the tile to find the slip of paper – the request that Eren had placed in the jar months prior – now nowhere to be found.

“Why are you on the dirty floor?”

“My paper is missing. I-I didn’t take it out in the past few days, I think it might have gotten shuffled up with everyone moving and all that.”

“What was on it, kid?” Hange asks.

You lean back on your heels, wiping the dust from your fingers, as you feel your heart sink in your chest.

“Eren’s request for my song.”

“Oh! Just ask him to write it again.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just do that.”

Except that’s not good enough. Because if your hunch was correct, Eren wouldn’t write what he wrote the first time again – whatever it was that he scribbled onto the green slip of paper.

“Yeah. But ask him tomorrow, when you’re done filming.” Levi states.

You glare at Levi.

“No one is breaking your stupid rule, Levi. Relax.” you respond, as you make your way to leave the room.

“You’re not eating lunch?”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” you respond.

You drag your feet across the floor as the frustrated tears start to accumulate in your eyes – burning warm and hot as you make your way down into the hall and slam the door shut behind you. And you can’t help but lean down across the wood and watch as the tears fall onto your knees, the pounding in your head being a culmination of every horrible thought that’s danced across your viewfinder in the past few days.

Slowly but surely, any hope that you had on the first day had all but dwindled down into nothing on the third day. And the courage, the deep insistence that you had to talk to Eren face to face, has simmered down when the fears started getting louder.

Because, maybe, it was really for the better that Eren didn’t remember. And that maybe, this is exactly how you and Eren were supposed to end.

You walked in the wrong direction. And then he did too. And weirdly enough, the stars still aligned so you would both end up here, before you had to leave again.

And if you really count things in the grand scheme of things, there was nothing you could do but be grateful.

Well, really, if you wanted to stay optimistic – and keep your promise of leaving here different than the way you returned – you had to be optimistic.

You had to be determined to find the good, even if there wasn't any. You’d root it out of every nook and cranny – and even if you couldn’t find it, you were going to make it for yourself.

You reach for the box off of the desk, filled with the polaroids you have tacked on the wall, and reach for the on the top.

It felt like cheating – stealing a polaroid that you weren’t in – but you couldn’t help but take the picture of Sukuna and Eren standing together, trying to act cool by not smiling at the camera, and keep it for yourself.

You find solace in the fact that Eren’s loved. That Eren loved you and that you loved him – and that a part of you always will.

Eren always seemed like there was more than he was putting off and really, every conversation that you had ever had with him since he was a kid had left you wanting more. Only because you could tell – that deep down – there was more than he was letting on, hundreds of things and memories that he was waiting to share with you.

It was really the best thing about him – knowing that you would never tire of being around him. Because he’d tell you something new, teach you a new set of chords on the piano, or tell you about memories of his that you weren’t privy to experiencing next to him.

You wonder if it’ll be different when you see him years down the line.

If he’ll grow his hair longer, if he’ll have hundreds of more memories that he wants to share with you, and if you’ll be able to walk the path back to where you started after time away.

You reach for your notebook, to the last free page in your lyric book and scribble three words at the top.

See You Soon

The nervousness leaves you the morning you film. It’s almost serene, the feeling having settled into your bones, as you sit in the chair – watching them blow the hair dryer through the ends of your hair for the last time.

“You’re just going to sit out there in the little meadow. Eren will meet you there when he’s ready and we’ll just kind of keep continuously rolling. You can do whatever you want or…or whatever feels right. We’ll cut when you film the scene.” Levi explains.

You nod.

“What if Eren never shows up? Are you going to roll for three hours?”

“Well, he’s getting ready in his trailer, so I don’t think it’ll be that long.”

You look over your shoulder at the trailer, before turning back to him.

“Okay, well. See you out there.” Levi responds, giving one last squeeze to your cheek.

You take a slow start to getting out there. Linger back to hug the hairdressers and makeup artists one last time, dawdle by the food cart and spend your sweet time eating the scones, before you make your way out to the meadow.

The little cabin that the crew had constructed was perfect. Complemented by the little flowers barely blooming nearby and the clouds whistling through the air – the smallest part of you ached that it was real and not just four ply walls with nothing inside them.

You take a seat on the bench just outside and hike your knees to your chest. You pull the sleeves of the pink cardigan over your palms, before nestling your nose into the softness of the scarf – perfumed the same way with a mix of the fresh detergent smell and the flowery perfume that the costume designers douse the clothes in.

You try to memorize everything exactly the way it is. The blades of grass dancing in the wind of the cold air, the sun peeking out through the patches of the clouds, and your heart racing in your chest.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, which you know belongs to Eren at your side.

You look to your left to see him sitting there, his hair freshly cut. It’s considerably shorter – the exact length it was when you met him.

“Eren.” you whisper.

It almost doesn’t feel like he’s standing there.

“Y/N.”

It’s a kind smile that he offers you, one that goes to the depths of his green eyes. You can’t bear to look at it, and instead, choose to focus on the smallest bloom of flowers out in the distance.

“Levi cut your hair again.” you mumble.

Eren shakes his head.

“My idea.” Eren responds.

You twist the laces of your shoes in your fingertips – the plastic a the end of the lace almost fraying from how overworn the shoes are – as you try to swallow the block in your throat and make polite conversation.

“Any reason why?”

“You like it better this way.” Eren states.

You feel your throat dry.

“What?”

“You love my hair short. You told me that on the night of the wedding.”

You pale. He remembers. He remembers every word of your drunk ramblings – including the fact that you mentioned that his hair looks the best to you when it’s short, because it’s the exact length it was when you fell in love with him.

Eren stands up, before turning back to you and extending his hand out.

“Are you ready to finish this?” Eren asks.

You take a deep breath, before putting your hand in his, and giving him a nod.

“I’m ready.” you respond.

The tears that come are warm and hot and they arise quickly in the few seconds that Eren takes to walk to his cue. Because what he had just said had just registered in your head.

He cut his hair short because you like it better that way.

Eren’s hand is warm on your shoulder, as he lightly shakes you.

“Y/N. Wake up.”

You open your eyes to find the tears blurring your vision, which you’re silently thankful for, as you try to look in his direction.

“You’ll catch a cold.” Eren murmurs.

The tone he uses – it’s the exact opposite of the gravelly tone that always catches you off guard, the one you hate for its harshness. Only because it felt wrong, because it was so antithetical to the Eren you knew.

You shake your head, trying to remember your lines from the scene.

“Eren? Huh? When did I fall asleep?”

“You must have been really exhausted.” Eren responds.

“I just felt like I had a really long dream.”

Eren turns around and smiles.

“Let’s just take it easy and do nothing for the rest of the day. I caught some huge fish so…Y/N…why are you crying?”

You reach up, wiping the wetness you were unable to blink away from your cheeks.

“I don’t know. I suddenly felt like I shouldn’t be here.”

Eren frowns, taking a deep breath, before he turns to you. You can make out that his hands are slightly shaking at his sides.

“I’m sure Armin has been desperate to find us. But I couldn’t plunge Historia into hell and commit into an endless cycle of killing and I couldn’t bring myself to bring genocide upon everyone else outside the island.”

Eren pauses, as he balls his hands into a fist at his side.

“Let’s just go…live out my remaining four years in peace and quiet. Just the two of us, with no other people.”

You recognize that tone too but this one almost makes you wince. Because it’s the quiet begging – that you heard once on the beach, years prior.

“You’re the one who said that, Y/N. It was your idea.” he whispers.

You stand up, looping your arms around his torso as you bury your head into the side of his neck and get a strong whiff of his cologne.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I said that. I know we promised to not talk about that.” you whisper.

You can feel Eren shaking underneath your touch as he brings his hands up.

“Can we make another promise? Once I’m dead, throw this scarf away. You’re going to live a long time after this.”

You pinch your eyes shut, in anticipation for the next line.

“Forget all about me. Please, Y/N.”

You swallow hard, before pulling back to look at him, and his deep green eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” you whisper.

Eren gives you a silent nod, before he leans forward, and slots his lips against yours. It’s the opposite of four nights ago and in no way fiery, burning, or searing your skin. It’s the exact opposite – warm, tender, and final.

Eren pulls back, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, before you hear Levi’s voice.

“Cut! That’s a series wrap on Attack on Titan.”

There’s a group of resounding cheers, as you and Eren pull back, and give each other a lingering smile. Eren raises his fingers to his lips, tracing the skin, before Hange’s absolute manhanding of him directs his attention away.

You toss and turn in the bed for three hours before you give up on sleeping all together.

It’s the only reason that you’re trudging back over to the set in the cold, the key pressed into the palm of your hand and the book tucked into the warmth of your arm.

You’d thought long and hard about all the lasts you were experiencing in the past few days – which is precisely why you were utterly shocked that you had forgotten about this one.

It was only in your tossing and turning that you realized you hadn’t even paid a last homage to the piano that you learned to play on – and the sudden thought of it had your legs moving before you even realized that you were marching over there in the dark of the night.

You take the key and jam it into the lock, wiggling the entire knob before the door clicks open, and you march into the unexpected brightness of the set. You’re taken aback by the golden lights still being left on, before you hear the tune of the piano being played in the back corner and follow your way to the sound.

You walk closer to find that it’s Eren playing.

He’s leaning over the piano, fingers lightly pressing the keys, as he hums along to the tune. You ball your hands into fists as you walk up next to him, clearing your throat, and take the seat next to him – slightly breaking his concentration from the humming.

“Do you mind if I join you?” you ask.

“Not at all. I was waiting for you to get here.” Eren states.

You give him a weary look, before placing your book on the stand right next to his, before placing your hands on the keys and trying to mimic the tune that he was playing.

“How did you know I was going to come?”

“I had a feeling. I’ve been seeing signs.”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to smile.

“And what did the signs tell you?”

“It’s not exactly that they told me something. It’s more like they were pushing me, if that makes sense.”

You nod.

“Pushing you where?”

“Only place I want to be. To you, of course.” Eren responds.

You take your hands off the keys and place them at your sides, before lifting your legs and criss crossing them on the piano bench. Eren seems to follow your cue, because he pulls his hands off the keys too, and slides over so his legs are on each side of the bench and he can face you properly.

“Can I tell you something?” Eren asks.

You can feel your heart racing. Like you’re imagining what’s happening.

“You know that feeling you get sometimes, that…that this might all be like a bad dream and you’ve just woken up from it?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Eren reaches forward, reaching for both of your wrists before interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Those few seconds that you really notice things…when…when you can see the love in the room.” Eren whispers.

You tilt your head to the side, confused. Eren shakes his head, filled with an almost infinite patience to make you understand, as he leans closer.

“I’ll give you an example. When I was a kid, I waited at a bus stop for my mom to pick me up. It was one of the rare times that she was late and I sat there and really thought about it. That she was my mother. That I only get to have one mother and she was always going to be mine – and that really I was grateful for it.”

You smile.

“I had another one. One of my last days of school, I met these two people who had apparently been waiting to meet me for a really long time, who wanted to pitch an idea to me. All of my teachers were telling me that it was really important so I made my best effort that morning – trying to do my hair nice despite the fact that I was filled with a nervous ball of anxiety – and made my way over to the room at the end of the class. I walked in and Hange and Levi were sitting in the chairs, leaning back and arguing about something. Every shred of nervousness I had left me the second I walked through the door and was replaced with the exact opposite when they introduced themselves to me.”

“I’m starting to get it.” you respond.

“The first time you slept next to me, I –” Eren’s voice cracks.

You pale. And Eren pauses, trying to shake the nervousness from his voice, as he looks back up at you, green eyes swimming in glistening tears.

“Eren?” you whisper.

“The first time you slept next to me, the moon glimmered across my ceiling through the window. There were five or six seconds where there was a pale light shining over you and me, together, and I could see that you have a mole on your left cheek and another one on the side of your neck. And it was the first time I thought that I wanted to be able to stop time just there – just right there – and live in that moment forever so I could memorize what you look like. My heart was aching and it was tender in my chest because I didn’t want to move forward.”

You bite down on your cheek, trying to stifle the tears.

“I’ve had hundreds of those moments with you. Tracing starlight on your skin, hearing you sing at the piano, every single fucking time you’ve blessed me by kissing me. Every single one I’ve had, that you’ve…”

Eren shakes his head, before the tears start properly falling from his eyes.

“Every single moment you’ve privileged me by giving has made me want to stop time and stay there, with you in it, forever.”

You swallow the hardness in your throat down.

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper.

“Because I want more of them. I want so many more of them.”

Eren looks down, his tears falling flat against the backs of your hands.

“I want to be selfish. You’re the love in the room. You’re my moon. You’re every fucking thing I can think of and you’ve in every single good thing that I see. You take all my love with you wherever you go and I’m tired of being apart from you. You….you’re the only fucking thing I’ve wanted since the first time I’ve ever met you and everything has conspired for you and I to be here right now – and for you to let me back in.”

“Eren.” you whisper.

“Please.”

Eren breaks a smile.

“Please, I don’t want to beg. I can if you want me too but, just –” he starts.

You smile back, recognizing the same words that he had repeated to you on the beach.

“But do you still belong to me?” Eren asks.

You offer him a smile, as he lifts your hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Please say yes.” he whispers.

“I was only ever going to be yours to begin with, Eren.”

You watch as Eren pinches his eyes together, like he’s almost in pain – as he recognizes what it means – before he leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ears. You give him a smile and he leans forward, almost hesitant as he closes the space between you two and smiles into the kiss.

It’s infinitely better than the last time that you and Eren kissed on this bench, for the first time, almost ten years ago.

Because it’s laced with all of the love that you’ve experienced with Eren – the warmth of the early love, the aching yearning in the middle, and the sweet return after all this time apart.

He still feels the same. He’s still your Eren.

Eren leans back, hands shaking and breathing hard as he leans against your forehead, his eyes pinched shut.

“I love you.” Eren whispers.

“You said that already.” you respond.

Eren leans back and glares. But all you can do is smile – before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of his cheek.

“I love you too.” you repeat.

You lean forward, pressing your ear against Eren’s beating heart as he wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you can’t help but burrow yourself deeper into his embrace – unable to stop the quiet tears from escaping your eyes and staining his shirt.

“Do you think Marco’s dancing in his grave wherever he is?” Eren asks.

You laugh.

“For sure.” you whisper.

Eren smiles, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

“You know, you’re kind of stupid.” Eren says.

“What?”

“How did you remember the other night wrong? If you kissed me first, how did you end up with the hickey?”

You bring your hand up to your neck, touching the skin.

“That’s a hickey?” you ask.

“What did you think it was?” Eren asks.

“I don’t know, I kind of remember hitting my head when we were drunk. I assumed it was another inebriation-related injury.”

Eren smiles, before leaning forward and pressing three kisses to your cheeks.

“No. That was me. Kissing you.”

You roll your eyes, as you lean forward and press your fingers into the dents of his dimples.

“Speaking of, I have something for you. Well, more like I stole something from you, but…you get the idea.” Eren states.

“What is it?”

Eren reaches into his pocket, only to procure a green slip of finger, and holds it right in front of your face. You snatch it out of his fingers – recognizing his scribbled writing on the top – before you shove him in the side.

“You took this? I thought it got lost in the mix of packing and everything.”

You open it up and read Eren’s handwriting, of the request he gave you months prior.

I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it.

“This is…”

“The stage directions from Season Two. When we were supposed to kiss, before it got cut out. I wrote it.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Your handwriting is still as shit as it was when you were twelve.”

Eren pauses, before snatching the slip back from you.

“I mean, I was the one who wrote it into the script. I was helping Hange and Levi with scenes long before we knew about it. And I wrote that about you.”

You smile, clutching the little slip close to your heart.

The same Eren – with hundreds of gestures that fall deaf to your ears, that are never for show, and just an act of love – letters to the Institute and stage directions filled with every part of him.

“And I wrote the song for it too, if you want to hear it.” Eren finishes.

You give him a nod, as you both slide your legs over the bench again, and Eren sits up and braces his fingers against the piano keys. You rest your head against his shoulder, smiling as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before his voice fills the air.

Clear blue water High tide came and brought you in And I could go on and on, on and on, and I will Skies grew darker Currents swept you out again And you were just gone and gone, gone and gone

In silent screams In wildest dreams I never dreamed of this

This love is good This love is bad This love is alive back from the dead, oh, oh, oh These hands had to let it go free, and This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh Ohh Oh, oh, oh

Your kiss, my cheek I watched you leave Your smile, my ghost I fell to my knees When you're young, you just run But you come back to what you need

Unbeknownst to you and Eren, you’re not the only ones who have trouble sleeping that night – and you’re not the only ones who figure that spending time on set would be a good use of the time. It’s why Hange and Levi decide to trek to the set in the middle of the night.

And when they make their way over to the set, they wriggle the door only to find that it’s already wide open and that the sound of the piano is filling the acoustics of the room. And to their sweet surprise, it’s because it's you and Eren – sitting at the piano together, pressing kisses to each other’s cheeks.

“Levi. They’re –”

“I know.” he whispers.

Hange looks over at Levi, only to find him smiling from ear to ear.

“Should we say something?”

Levi looks over at the two of you and shakes his head.

“No.” he whispers.

Hange smiles, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

“Yeah. I can finally rest in fucking peace.” Levi responds.

Eren makes you breakfast the following morning. It almost gives you deja vu – but the good kind – watching him make the bowl of ramen as you stand there by his side, sitting on the counter and dangling your feet over the granite.

Eren uses his free hand to hold yours.

“Does it make you sad?” you ask.

“What?”

“That this is like our last time eating ramen in this house together.”

Eren smiles and squeezes your hand three times.

“No.” he responds, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You push him slightly.

“Levi and Hange could come any minute.”

“Are you twelve? Why would we hide this from them?”

You pause.

“I don’t know. I…I was kind of thinking that we’d wait to tell people, or at least everyone, until we…I don’t know. Get some time to ourselves.” you respond.

Eren smiles.

“I like it. We’ll do whatever you want to.”

You frown.

“Well, I don’t want you to follow my lead just because. If you want to scream it from the rooftops and tell everyone, I am more than happy to do that.” you clarify.

“No, no. Really. I don’t want to tell anyone – just Levi and Hange.” Eren responds.

You smile.

“Okay. I can do just Levi and Hange.”

“Are you praying on our downfall? Why did I just hear my name?” Levi asks, as he shuffles into the room and spares the two of you a glance in the kitchen.

“But of course! What else would we do in our free time?” you respond, as you give Hange a nod as they set the kettle for Levi’s tea.

Eren waits for the noodles to boil as he turns around, opening his arm up and tucking you into the crook of his arm, as you loop your arms around his torso. Levi spares a glance to Hange, before looking back at the two of you.

“Do you two have something you want to share with the class?” Levi asks.

“Nothing you haven’t guessed already.” you respond.

Hange gives an excited squeal, before reaching forward and wrapping their arms around the two of you and screaming in your ears.

“I am so fucking happy for you guys! I almost burst into tears when I saw you guys kissing last night!”

You feel your eyes widen.

“You saw us what?”

“Levi and I were feeling all sentimental and stuff so we wanted to go over to the set just to soak it all in for the last time. When we got there, the two of you were kissing! I wanted to interrupt but I figured you know…give you your privacy and all that.” Hange squeals.

“Thank god.” you murmur.

It would been infinitely embarrassing if Hange and Levi were there to watch what happened after.

“Hange. Part of leaving them there alone was also not mentioning the fact that we saw them there.” Levi deadpans.

Levi gives Hange a passive glare, before turning back to the two of you.

“Don’t fuck it up this time.” he states.

You both smile.

“We won’t.”

“Good. Well, I’m happy for you two. I can tell that the love was worth the wait and…and all the trouble too.”

You both look at each other and smile, before Eren turns around and starts plating the bowls. And you sink in the feeling – trying to paint all the details to memory – and compare them to the first time the four of you ate together.

After Eren broke the bowl because of your noise cancelling headphones, Levi and Hange telling you what method acting was for the first time – Eren promising that you two were going to be the best.

“Hey, Levi.”

“Yeah?” he responds.

“Did you find out anything about the people who are buying the house after us?”

Levi turns to look at you.

“Why do you ask?”

You shrug.

“I don’t know. I just want to make sure that it was someone who was going to love the house just as much as we do.”

Levi looks back at you, before giving you a smile.

“It’s a young couple. Margaret and Bruce. They’re big into music so they wanted the set space for the acoustics.”

You turn back to Eren, eyes wide, as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not sad about this breakfast at all. We have a hundred more in front of us.” he whispers, before taking the two steaming bowls to the table where Hange and Levi are sitting.

You shake your head, unable to contain your smile, before you jump off the counter and join the three of them.

Together, but not for the last time.

an: one more. someone ask for the birds of a feather track list i have it ready.

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

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harmonicakai · 2 days

Text

Be Around Me

Part 1 of the "Love is Embarrassing" series

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader, Ricky x Reader (one-sided), Haobin crumbs, Jiwoong x Reader teeny tiny crumbs

Summary: Gyuvin is the type of guy to get flustered over everything, but little does he know that you secretly think it makes him even cuter.

Tropes: basketball star!gyuvin, journalist!reader, college AU, basketball!zb1, frat!zb1, secret admirer, fluff, slow burn, crack, unrequited love, mutual pining, gyuvin is a LOSER

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Ricky is annoying lol, mentions of masturbation and sex (mdni!!!)

A/N: y’all will have pry zb1 college basketball au from my cold dead hands!!!!!!!! also for once in my life, y/n is not super insecure we cheered!!

FIC INSPIRED SPOTIFY PLAYLIST <3

“It's obvious she's so out of reach And I'm finding it hard 'cause She makes me feel, makes me feel Like I try, like I try, like I'm trying too hard” —Try Hard, 5 Seconds of Summer

On the court, Kim Gyuvin is the star player of the Wakefield Roses. With his long limbs, he handles the ball with ease, capturing the hearts of everybody in the crowd every time he grins after scoring a basket.

Off the court, he’s an awkward mess. Combine that with the fact that you, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, are usually the one covering games for the school news, and he’s a goner.

As if it isn’t hard enough for him to make eye contact with the camera, he also has to make sure he doesn’t stare too hard at your shiny hair or glossy lips. His teammates would never let him live it down if he was caught being an absolute creep on video.

What started out as a little crush has grown into a deep admiration. He reads every article that you put out into the school newspaper, sometimes even cutting out the ones you’ve written about him and his team. Everybody makes fun of him for being too scared to just ask you out.

He’s never been one to flirt with girls, but the way you make conversations so easy during interviews, even when he’s stumbling over his words, makes him feel at ease around you. Still, he wonders how much of it is just your journalist persona versus you actually liking him.

Sharing a double with Ricky means he gets exiled a lot in the name of his roommate getting laid. Sometimes, you come back from getting your morning coffee and catch him sleeping on one of the lounge’s couches.

One morning, when your arms are full of pastries that you intend to hoard in your dorm for the upcoming week, you spot him curled up yet again on your way back to your room.

Without much thought, you stop to leave a muffin and a little note next to it on the table in front of him, conveniently forgetting to sign your name.

It began with cutesy but vague things, like “breakfast for a champion,” but quickly escalated as soon as Gyuvin started leaving notes back for you.

After a couple exchanges, he even wrote that you didn’t need to be leaving him food at all and that he just wanted to know who you were. Truthfully, you had a really big crush on Gyuvin, but didn’t everybody?

Despite being a bit camera shy, he was always so sweet before and after your interviews, doing his best to make small talk and smiling his smile that could make anybody swoon.

Plus, you’ve seen how much more comfortable he is with other people, even the cheerleaders, who are all super pretty. He must just be really nice.

So, you continue to leave the notes unsigned, despite each one growing in flirtation. You like the thrill of being mysterious, but you’re mostly just scared of getting rejected since he’s never given you a reason to think he likes you back.

It isn’t until Ricky catches you one morning, a sly grin on his face when he sees you leaving a whole stack of notes on the table.

When you lock eyes with Gyuvin’s roommate, you know the jig is up. Surely, he’ll tell him it’s been you all along.

“Y/N,” Ricky nods when you approach him, his arms crossed. “I have to say, I had my suspicions.”

“Listen, Ricky, I would prefer if we could keep this between us.”

“Gyuvin’s been going on and on about some secret admirer for weeks now. It’s cruel that you won’t tell him who you are.”

“He’s welcome to stop writing back if he doesn’t want to,” you shrug, although it would probably devastate you if that actually happened.

“Oh, trust me, he wants to. Especially if he found out it was you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that every time he finishes an interview with you, he might always run home and lock himself in our bathroom because you get him so riled up. If you know what I mean.”

Your eyes go wide at the revelation. Ricky is surely just messing with you. “That’s—that’s not funny, Ricky. You shouldn’t joke about those kinds of things.”

“I’m not joking,” he chuckles. “Listen, Zeta Beta Omega is throwing a party tonight and the whole team will be there. You should come.”

“I don’t do parties,” you scoff. “Why would you even want me there?”

“Because maybe after a few drinks, you and Gyuvin won’t be so scared to tell each other how you feel. Then you guys can knock off this silly game and he can stop whining about not knowing who his mystery girl is.”

“And go back to whining about how all his roommate does is kick him out every night so he can fuck whoever he lays his eyes on?”

“Exactly. See, Y/N, you get me,” he practically purrs. “So, you show up looking all pretty and talk to my poor, lovesick roomie, and I won’t spill your little secret. Deal?”

“Ugh, fine, I guess. I can’t believe you’re blackmailing me. Deal.”

“Trust me, it’s for your own good, sweetheart.”

You cringe at the pet name. “Is this how you talk to everybody?”

“Yes. Why? Is it working? Are you going to start leaving me notes too?”

“Enjoy the rest of your morning, Ricky. I’ll see you later,” you say, walking past him. Even if he’s annoying, it’s genuinely impressive how he managed to brush off every insult you threw his way.

“See you, Y/N.” You don’t even have to look back at him to know that he winked as he said that.

—————-

Gyuvin knows that staying up all night waiting around for his mystery girl would be an invasion of privacy. At least he thinks the person who keeps leaving him baked goods and notes is a girl. Or maybe he’s just being hopeful that it’s you.

He’s never seen your handwriting before, but he’s been close enough to smell your perfume and he swears he can catch hints of it wafting off the sticky notes.

In fact, he’s started looking forward to Ricky kicking him out of their shared bedroom just because he knows he’ll be waking up to the sweetest surprise when he sleeps in the lounge.

Tonight’s party should be a good distraction from all of the wondering. Maybe, if he’s drunk enough, Ricky will be more embarrassing than alluring and Gyuvin will get to sleep in his own bed. Still, he can’t get this morning’s notes off his mind.

You’ve left him clues, little doodles of your favorite things. Your coffee order, favorite color, favorite animal, and so on. He’s hoping you’ll be at tonight’s party so he can see if you mention any of the stuff drawn out, but you never show up to these kinds of things.

That was before Ricky got involved. You stood outside the ZBO frat house wearing your worst sneakers and a baby pink minidress, as suggested by one of your suitemates.

If only you didn’t show up by yourself. There were a few familiar faces from class, and of course, the entire basketball team, but nobody you were really friends with. All you could focus on was how sticky the floor was and how much you needed a drink.

“Hi,” you say, finally making your way over to the bartender. It’s the team’s captain, Hanbin. “Just give me whatever tastes the best.”

“One rum punch it is,” he smiles, his whisker dimples making your heart flutter. Why was everybody on the team good looking? “Y/N, right?”

“Yep,” you say, taking the plastic cup from him. “You’re Hanbin. You know, I’ve been meaning to interview you, but you always seem so busy with other things at games.”

“Don’t worry about it. It wouldn’t be nearly as cute as when you interview Gyuvin,” he laughs, eyeing the line of guests waiting for their drinks. “I’ve got a job to do, but I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Thanks for the drink,” you say, holding it up in a sort of cheer before walking away. You take a sip and savor its sweetness, the liquor’s flavor blending in perfectly to the juice. Hanbin’s words stick with you. Were you and Gyuvin cute together?

Sure, he’s so tall that he practically towers over you, but he refuses to ever make eye contact and always keeps his replies so short and polite. Then again, he sure seems to write a lot in the notes that he doesn’t know are going to you.

For a second, you start to consider that you might actually have a chance with him, until you spot him with a beautiful girl touching his arm and whispering something in his ear. Before you can mope for too long, someone is tapping you on the shoulder.

“There you are,” a familiar voice calls over the music. You turn to see Ricky grinning at you, his hair looking almost white under the lights. “You look good.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest to prevent him from checking you out any further. He glances past you at his roommate.

“Don’t worry about her,” he assures you. You don’t know whether or not to believe him. “Gyuvin has never taken a girl home from these parties, let alone kissed one.”

That’s a relief. “Don’t you have a hook-up to hunt down?” you ask Ricky. He cocks an eyebrow at you, sipping his drink.

“Oh, Y/N. I keep my girls on speed dial,” he chuckles. You cringe at his playboy persona and for once in his life, Ricky is embarrassed. He shuts his mouth, hoping you can’t see him blush.

“Wow,” you say, tilting your head at him. “Don’t tell me young and rich, tall and handsome Shen Ricky can actually feel shame. I really wish I had a cameraman with me right now.”

“Like I said, it works on most people,” he attempts to reason. “You’re just immune to my charms, I guess.”

“Guess so,” you smirk, downing the rest of your drink. You glance behind your shoulder to see Gyuvin still talking to that girl, then back at Ricky, who’s deep in thought.

“Do you want to meet the rest of the team?” he asks, surprising you. You give a slight nod, and that’s all he needs to see before grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the crowd.

At first, Ricky lingers as you make small talk with Matthew, Taerae, and Gunwook, and explains to you that Yujin is actually at home because he’s still in high school. You feel like a horrible journalist—have you been so preoccupied with Gyuvin that you didn’t notice there was a literal child on the team?

By now, Ricky’s abandoned you to go find something, or someone, more entertaining. He’s dropped you off with Jiwoong, the oldest player, who is as aloof as he is annoyingly handsome. The way he eyes you makes your stomach do cartwheels, and you’ve had enough to drink that you can’t see the harm in flirting with a cute boy.

He’s spewing some bullshit about meditating when you cut him off. “I like your hair,” you blurt out, catching him off guard. He turns and smiles at you for the first time since you started talking.

“You do?” he asks, running a hand through it. “I think it’s a little long. I might get a haircut soon.”

“Keep it like that,” you say, not taking your eyes off of him. “It looks good.”

Jiwoong is grinning now, but he remembers that you’re Gyuvin’s crush, and it would be totally wrong to kiss you no matter how badly he wants to. He eyes the crowd, searching for someone to save him from the tension.

“Hao!” he says, grabbing a boy passing by and pulling him into the conversation. He looks familiar, but he’s certainly no basketball player. “Y/N, this is Zhang Hao. He’s our equipment manager. I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Hao says, clearly caught off guard. “You’re the one who does the interviews, right?”

“That’s me,” you confirm. Jiwoong’s departure right when you thought he was going to kiss you was beyond bizarre. “I didn’t realize how many people knew me.”

“You’re basically a celebrity to the team,” Hao laughs. “They all think you’re pretty.”

“Makes sense,” you smile, sipping on your third drink of the night. “I am, in fact, very pretty.”

“Agreed. So, which one do you have your eye on?” he asks, leaning in to hear you better. “Or should I guess?”

“Go ahead and guess,” you say, eager to know what he thinks.

Hao takes a second to gather his thoughts. “Well, it’s clear that you’re into Gyuvin based on the way you giggle at his seriously unfunny jokes, but you were also just eye fucking Jiwoong. Then again, wasn’t Ricky dragging you around earlier by the hand?”

“By the wrist,” you correct him. “And yes, I do like Gyuvin. But he’s been talking to some other girl the whole night.”

“He only has eyes for you,” Hao says immediately. This is the second time you’ve heard this tonight, but the first where it’s coming from a trustworthy source.

“And you?” you ask in return, shifting the conversation onto him. “Which one do you have a crush on?”

Hao’s eyes widen. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not—I don’t—”

“Hao,” you cut him off. “You’ve glanced at Hanbin at least six times since this conversation started.”

He swallows, knowing he’s been caught. “It’s that obvious, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“We talk all the time,” Hao mutters, looking down at his shoes. “I’m basically his personal assistant.”

“Do you talk about anything other than basketball?”

“No.”

“Do you even like basketball?”

“...No.”

“Hao,” you say, gripping him by the shoulders and turning him towards the drink station. “Go over there and get your man.”

—————-

As if it weren’t enough of a shock to Gyuvin that you actually showed up to a ZBO party, he’s had to spend all night watching you chat up the entire team except for him.

They’ve no doubt let it slip to you that he has the biggest crush on you on campus, maybe even the entire world. But he’s way too nice to tell one of his classmates, who attends every game just to hold up a sign with his name on it, that he isn’t interested.

That’s how he ended up nursing his drink with a tight lipped smile, listening to what’s-her-name ramble on about things that would be more interesting to probably anybody else, all while keeping an eye on you as you bounce around the party.

Your interaction with Jiwoong made him jealous beyond belief, and he makes a mental note that while he’s made his crush on you very clear to his teammates, you’re technically not his and free to flirt with whoever you want.

He watches as you grasp Hao and shake him, muttering some words of encouragement before sending him over to the bar. Finally, you’re alone again. It’s now or never.

“I have to go walk my dog,” Gyuvin lies, not even bothering to let the poor girl react before making his way over to you. You’re wearing pink, his secret admirer’s favorite color. Surely, it’s not just a coincidence.

“Y/N,” he says a little too loud, startling you. You jump, accidentally knocking yourself into him. Both of your drinks go flying and suddenly, you’re covered in sticky red liquid.

At this point, Gyuvin might as well just die alone. How did he manage to only spill his drink on you and not himself? He peers down at you, guilt written all over his face, as you take in what’s just happened.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his hoodie’s pocket and pulling out wadded tissues. “They’re clean, I promise. I have, uh, I’ve got allergies, so I carry around a ton.”

He unfolds one and gently pats the liquid off of you without so much of a second thought. Your silence makes him panic even more, and he’s so focused on drying you off that he doesn’t even notice he’s basically rubbing the tissue on your cleavage.

Gyuvin freezes once he finally notices where his hand is, immediately pulling away and putting a good distance between the two of you. “I am so sorry. Holy shit, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not a pervert! Please don’t think I’m a pervert.”

“Gyuvin,” you finally say, your voice just as sweet as always. He’s pacing as much as he can with everybody packed in so tightly, his long legs taking tiny steps. “It’s okay. I don’t think you’re a pervert.”

He stops and looks down at you. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Really,” you reassure him. “Although I might think you’re a klutz. Who knew Wakefield’s star basketball player was so clumsy off the court?”

“Technically, you bumped into me,” he asserts, his smile returning. “But you’re also the one who got soaked, so let’s just call things even.”

“Deal,” you agree. Sure, it’s fun when boys are obviously flirting with you, but the way Gyuvin has no clue what he’s doing is just so charming. It feels natural when you’re with him, a nice departure from the overused pickup lines and generic compliments that are usually thrown your way.

Gyuvin takes in your stained dress, the red punch seeping into the pink fabric like blood. You look straight out of a horror movie.

“Here,” he says, shrugging off his varsity jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders before taking in the sight of you. “Wow. You look so…”

“Silly?” you answer, the expanse of material wrapped around you like a tent.

“Cute. You look so cute.” Gyuvin meets your eyes for a split second before looking away again, his ears now feeling even hotter than when he saw you with Jiwoong. “I can get you a new shirt, if you want. My room isn’t far from here.”

“You want me to go with you to your room?” you giggle, enjoying how flustered you make him. Hearing his teammates talk about how much he likes you has taken a weight off your shoulders, and you don’t know how you ever thought he wasn’t into you before.

“No! Well, yes, but only if you want to. And I’m not using this as an excuse to bring you back to my room. I just know you like pink and I have this one pink shirt that shrunk in the wash and I think you’d look really good in it. Plus, I can start a load of laundry and get your dress all clean.”

This is the most you’ve ever heard him talk, his voice a few pitches higher than usual when he’s rambling. Plus, if he knows how much you like pink, he must be following your clues. “Let’s go to your room, then.”

—————-

While Gyuvin’s side of the room is much neater than you expected, Ricky’s side looks weirdly perfect. Not a single thing is out of place, with every item labeled or color coordinated. You’re shocked that two basketball players can manage to keep such a small room so tidy.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” Gyuvin apologizes, moving to make his bed. “You can sit here.”

“If this is what you think is messy, you don’t want to see my room,” you say, taking in all of the decorations. Usually, when you’re in a guy’s room, it’s all navy blue and manly movie posters, but Gyuvin’s walls are so colorful and covered in photos of his family and friends.

One piece of paper catches your eye—the very first article you wrote about the basketball team. You scan his wall, catching more and more newspaper clippings, all penned by you. Gyuvin’s too busy putting things away and rustling through his drawers to notice you staring at them in awe.

“Here we go,” he calls out, turning and holding up a shrunken pink t-shirt and a pair of sweats. His grin fades as soon as he catches you reading one of your own articles, which have been on his wall for so long that he’s forgotten they’re even there. “Oh. Uh, please don’t think I’m a creep.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s sweet. They’re all about you, anyway,” you say, turning to take the shirt from him. It has a picture of a silly looking greyhound on the front of it.

“Right,” Gyuvin says, shrugging off the interaction. He pulls himself onto the bed next to you, sitting cross legged and making sure to leave a gap between you and him. “That’s my dog, Eumppappa.”

“Eumppappa is an amazing name,” you muse, turning to smile at him. Your faces end up being so close that Gyuvin thinks his heart has stopped beating. In his attempt to scoot back, he ends up tumbling off of his bed.

“Fuck,” he says as he lands on the ground. You peer down from the lofted bed at his long limbs sprawled across the rug. If you didn’t think he was a complete loser before, you probably do now.

“Are you okay?” you call out, watching as he sits up and rubs his head.

“I’m good,” Gyuvin assures you, taking a breather before getting to his feet and heading towards the door. “I’m going to step out and let you change. Let me know when you’re decent.”

“Will do,” you smile, giving him a thumbs up. You strip your clothes off, throwing on the t-shirt and sweats and pulling the drawstring until you know they won’t fall off of you. “You can come back in, Gyuvin!”

He stumbles in, practically waiting with his body pressed against the door for the moment he could see you again. God, could you really not tell how much he liked you before tonight?

Gyuvin eyes you drowning in his clothes and he knows that he’d move earth and heaven if it meant that you’re who he got to wake up to for the rest of his life.

“I’ll go throw this in the washer and then we can head back to the party,” he stammers, snapping out of his daydream and grabbing your dress. Your smile is so pretty right now, even after all of his awkwardness, that it takes everything in him not to get hard just looking at you.

By the time he gets back from the laundry room, you’ve decided you don’t want to go back to the party, especially not dressed like this.

“Oh,” Gyuvin says, disappointed that his time with you has been cut short by his clumsiness. “Do you want me to walk you back to your place?”

“I live down the hall,” you remind him. You hope he doesn’t realize you could’ve just as easily grabbed your own change of clothes.

“Right,” he grimaces. He knows that. He’s always trying to time leaving his room perfectly so that he runs into you on the way to class.

Just like whenever you interview Gyuvin, there’s an awkward silence, except this time it can’t be edited out. He’s back to looking everywhere in the room except at you.

“It’s not even midnight,” you say, glancing at your phone’s lockscreen. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Like, together?” Gyuvin asks in disbelief. You nod, an amused smirk on your face. “Duh, of course you meant together. Yeah, sure, let’s watch a movie.”

Moments later, you’re sitting in the dark with Gyuvin, your legs pulled close to your chest as you watch Amélie projected onto the wall above Ricky’s bed.

Every once in a while, Gyuvin lets himself relax, his arm or his leg brushing against you by accident. After spending half of the film pulling away out of fear that he’s bothering you, he finally settles for having his fingers barely touching yours.

“You know,” he starts, his eyes still locked on the movie. “I kind of have my own mystery going on right now.”

“Really?” you say, feigning shock. “About what?”

“Someone keeps leaving me notes when I sleep in the lounge. Sometimes treats, but mostly notes. They don’t sign their name, but today they left me some little doodles as clues and I’ve been trying to figure them out.”

The way you’re reacting makes his stomach turn. How could it be you when you have a look on your face that says you have no clue what he’s talking about?

“Well, I’ve been meaning to work on my investigative journalism. What if I helped you track your secret admirer down?”

If you aren’t going to fall for him, he’ll at least settle for being friends. “That’d be awesome, Y/N.”

Suddenly, Ricky comes crashing into the dorm room, his lips attached to some girl’s face. He pulls away from her for a second, barely registering that you’re even there, before pulling out his wallet and throwing a couple hundred dollar bills at Gyuvin. “Get out. Now.”

Before you can protest, Ricky’s already unbuttoning his shirt, and you’ll gladly evacuate if it means you don’t have to watch whatever freaky shit is about to go down.

“I didn’t know he pays you to sleep in the lounge,” you laugh, your arms full of Gyuvin’s comforter as you walk down the hall. “With that kind of money, he could just buy an apartment.”

“He could,” Gyuvin starts, holding his pillow in one hand and the stack of notes—your notes—in the other. “But then he wouldn’t get the true college experience. Plus, he only throws money at me when it’s a last minute thing.”

“How much was that, anyway? Like $300?” you ask. He stops and takes out his wallet.

“$400. Pretty standard,” he shrugs, counting the bills. Your eyes widen at the total.

“Are you going to share?” you pout. “I got kicked out too.”

“You can have it,” he says, handing you the money, his brain short circuiting at the way you bat your eyelashes at him. You marvel at the crisp bills. “This is just another Friday night for me.”

“Okay, young and rich, tall and handsome Kim Gyuvin. Thanks for buying my dinner for the rest of the semester!” You don’t know this, but if you asked him to, Gyuvin would buy you whatever you wanted.

Before you can get down to helping him figure out the doodles, or throwing him off your trail, the two of you are fast asleep. Instead of the lounge’s couch, Gyuvin curls up on the oversized bean bag on your bedroom floor. It’s much too small for his frame to actually be comfortable, but he somehow feels more content just being around you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @theresawtf @nerezza123 @gyvnexe @xiurmy-everything @wollycobbl3-blr @cloudgyubi @yunnie-11 @wheatrice

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cottagec0relover21 · 2 days

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hii!! i first wanted to say that you're doing well and taking care of yourself :) could i request headcanons for chilchuck from delicious in dungeon where the reader is kind of like the bard of the party? and maybe they stay up late writing songs and chil ends up saying up with them? you can do what you like with it other than that but i like sharing ideas (and i love chilchuck :3) i hope you have a good day!! 💜💚

Hiii! I'm so happy to get a request, I forgot how exciting it was to open my askbox and read that someone wanted me to write them something (can you tell youre the first one yet?). I know you asked for headcannons, but I got carried away and ended up making it a fic I believe, by the way I wrote it. I still hope you like it! If not I'll try my best to specifically do headcannons next time if you ask 🌸✨️ (also have a good day too)

"Late Night Songs"

[Chilchuck Tims x Bard!reader]

Warnings: none - gn!bard!reader - fluff

Being the bard of the group was rather hard. Why? Well, writing songs and seeing if they ended up sounding good wasn't easy. (y/n) needed a lot of creativity for that. Luckily for them, they had a source for it: Chilchuck.

Yes, that guy in their group everyone treated like a child sometimes just because of his height. And while it was very adorable, yes, (y/n) saw a lot of depth in his personality.

Tonight they had decided to stay up, which many might say was not a good idea considering the fact they were exploring a dungeon. But they didn't care, they wanted to write, to compose something new.

And so they stared at the sheet of paper in front of them, their instrument by their side as they sat away from the fire so as to not bother or wake up the rest.

Entranced in their thoughts, they didn't notice when Chilchuck stirred in his bedroll to then wake up with a huff at the inability of going back to sleep, sitting up and looking at the fire that had not gone out yet.

That's when with his amplified hearing, he heard the sound of a pen writing down on a paper.

He looked behind him and found (y/n), sitting rather far from them. When had they woken up? Or had they not been able to sleep at all? What were they writing that was so important at this time?

All those questions filled his head as he got up slowly, trying to not make much noise for everyone's sake.

(y/n) raised their head at the sound of rustling and found their muse, standing up and looking at them, now approaching. He rubbed the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to them and sat by their side. —What are you doing up so late?— His groggy voice asked softly.

—I'm trying to write a song, or to at least think of a new melody, but I can't seem to come up with anything— they said as they looked at him, noticing a sleepy smile.

Chilchuck sighed, looking at the rest of the party, all in a deep sleep. —Well I can't seem to fall sleep anymore, I'm really not comfortable with how hard the floor feels today. Mind if I stay up with you?— He took a quick peek at the paper, but saw nothing written. They really had some artistic block, huh?

(y/n) smiled at their question, excited to finally have spend some peaceful time alone with him— Not at all, you might help inspire my new song in fact— they winked, and Chilchuck felt his heart leap in his chest at the gesture. He really hoped the darkness of the night helped hide the embarrassment in his face. It was a simple wink, what was wrong with him? he thought, shaking his head.

He chuckled softly, his gaze moving away from them for a moment in embarrassment— Don't say those things— he rubbed the back of his neck— thank you though, it's... flattering— he admitted with a sheepish smile.

—In fact, you've always been my inspiration. I'm not gonna lie to you— God his heart was about to stop. Had he heard them right? What did that even mean?

—I have?— He didn't know how to ask without looking too excited about it.

—Of course, you're practically my muse— they noticed him staring with slightly wide eyes at their sudden confession.— I don't know but– you just have something that always makes me stare and it makes the inspiration bubble up inside of me— okay today was definitely going to be his funeral. Chilchuck swallowed harshly, a blush definitely burning bright on his cheeks as he kept silent, his brain failing to come up with an answer.

He watched them suddenly gasp and start to write down something on the paper that rested on their thighs. (y/n) mumbled to themselves as they kept writing, a sudden urge of inspiration rushing through them.

They look up again quickly at him, a light in their eyes.— Ah– I almost forgot to thank you.— they smiled at him with sincerity and gave his hand a quick squeeze, at which he just nodded, humming in response as they watched them write down their ideas, praying to whatever deity was out there to make his blush go away.

He would've never guessed he was helpful in more ways than just picking locks and finding traps. But thanks to them, now he knows he is, for (y/n) at least, a source of inspiration. And their heart swelled with emotion and pride at that.

#chilchuk dungeon meshi #sorry for any mistakes english is not my first language #chilchuk tims #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #fanfic #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader

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yuri-is-online · 20 hours

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I really love Sebek and Epel and Deuce

Sebek's Yutu would be a tad hilarious but also kinda sad because his dad MAY OR MAY NOT BE ALIVE because man

Malleus :(

Epel's Yutu tho......

I saw a fic where Epel can use a gun (mentioned in passing) so I'm imagining that while Epel's Yutu is a great farmer just like his dad

He's also got a rifle :)

You have given me a vision... the one thing Epel! Yutu wants... is to be a cowboy. Can you picture a baby who looks a lot like Epel with a little cowboy hat and boots, he'd be so cute. Also, I was having brain rot and decided to introduce one of the friends lovely @archetypal-archivist helped create for Yutu! Please check out their Azul! Yutu posting it's very good and I love it sososo much. Unfortunately this post does not feature Epel riding on a horse, I'll have to fix that sometime. And get back to Sebek later.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.

Yutu's earliest memory is of apples.

His parent had him in a sling as they worked, picking and packing the fruit as they softly hummed a lullaby to soothe his grumpy mood. He never was able to get over how big an orchard could be, even when he was old enough to walk under the trees and play with the other workers children something about that sea of greenery just felt magical. Like if he really focused the outside world would cease to be and he could wake up in a land of nothing but him, Yuu, and the acceptance you can only ever find in nature.

But that's not how things ever went. When he opened his eyes Yuu would pack him up and they would move to follow the harvest until the winters shut things down and it was back to that god awful place Yuu had been born in. He was glad to move away when Yuu found them a permanent place to stay when he turned 10, gladder still for it to be a farm even if it didn't have the orchards he loved so much. The old couple that hired Yuu on were impressed with how deeply the single parent cared for their son, and how eager the son was to to help his parent. It was the perfect set up for an ideal, if difficult, childhood that would nurture Yutu in to a strong young man.

But this isn't the happy family future, it's the bad one. And things were always going to go wrong sooner rather than later.

Mixing things up from the other posts, Yuu feels particularly drawn to farms and farm work when thinking about Yutu's father and ends up crisscrossing their country as a migrant farm worker until they're offered a full time position as a farm hand they happily accept in the hopes of stabilizing Yutu's education. Yutu genuinely loved his childhood and grew up having a deep respect for manual labor and agriculture. He assumes Yuu must have met his father while traveling and had a brief relationship that produced him, but accepts that whatever accident caused Yuu's memory loss will keep him from ever really knowing if that was the case. Yuu impresses on him that his dad was a hard worker with a bit of a temper who never backed down from a challenge. They tease him that he gets his "cute" side from his Pappa, which Yutu likes about as much as Epel probably would.

He's doing his time in the short king mines, Yutu won't hit his growth spurt until around 17 and how tall he gets is from that is up to you, but if he stays short just know he is not happy about it at all. Unless someone brings up the fact he could probably have a career as a professional jockey and then he will maybe think about it as being a blessing. Maybe. Yutu learned to ride pretty early on in life and he loves doing it, but he doesn't really want to race horses. He'd much rather be a cowboy with his own little farm and a family of his own with a big orchard to tend to. He's got big dreams of one day being able to introduce his partner to Yuu and give them a nice place to retire to.

Plays outside by himself a lot. There are some kids at school he befriends, but a lot of their parents are wary about letting their kids hang out with him at his house. Yuu is seen as a bit weird, even if the old couple they work for is well liked most people in town know their kids who really dislike Yuu and Yutu for reasons that escape Yutu but his parent seems to understand. "They think they're protecting their parents." As Yutu grows he thinks it has to be more about money, he and Yuu love working the farm but their kids all have different jobs they got college degrees for so they probably want to sell the land when their parents die. He's right about that last bit of course, and willing to let Yuu give them some charity but he doesn't think they care about their parents near as much as he cares about his. Otherwise they'd at least be nice to someone their parents considered part of the family and not ship their mom off to a nursing home before their dad was even in the ground. Or evict the outcasts they considered part of the family too.

You have no idea what to do as you pack up your few belongings, Yutu can tell that you are stressed and it makes him mad. He tries to focus on helping, taping things up and dragging them out to the beat up car as you listlessly stare at the kitchen sink. After he moves the second box he notices you're not packing anymore and goes to check what's wrong and his instincts begin screaming something's wrong. Your eyes are unfocused, staring down at a framed picture he remembers well.

"Do you ever think about how all of this is my fault?" You sound a world a way and Yutu guesses that you are, the photo of a younger you with a toddler him in a sling under the apple orchards stares back at you both questioning just where is it you plan to go from here. It can't be back on the open road, school is about to start and the entire point of staying here was to make things better for him. Yutu is about to ask you the same thing when he hears the wind pick up, and is that a carriage he hears? "If I hadn't forgotten you, then maybe I could have found a way back..."

"What in the goddamn-" Yutu is cut off by the glass being blown out and he dives on instinct to cover you as the world spins around him.

"I'm real sorry Epel, you don't have to forgive me but... even after all this time. I still love you... I still love you and how sad is that..."

Good news, Yutu doesn't have to sleep and a shitty motel tonight. Bad news, he's in the middle of some fancy private school shit and his parent is flat lining on their floor. He starts screaming bloody murder until Crewel comes and scoops him up and ushers him off to the hospital wing where they have a very tense conversation. Yes, he does belong here actually he was supposed to have been born in this world with it's magic, monsters, and annoying private school uniforms he finds himself shoved into and marched back out to that fuck ass mirror to hear what dormitory he belongs in. The fuck is a Pom-e-fee-or and why does that girl with the 2000s throwback hairstyle look like she wants to kill him for asking that?

That girl is the Vice Warden of his new house and she absolutely hates him on sight. Like, she's heard about Epel before, duh who hasn't? He performed in the VDC with the Vil Schoenheit and he had like a fun Magicam account where he promoted his family's apple farm. Didn't Yuu tell him anything about that? Ugh guess she'll have to do it and hey why is hE RUNNING AWAY DOES ELEGANCE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!?!?! WHERE IS YOUR POMEFIORE DIGNITY YUTU DON'T THINK SHE CAN'T CATCH YOU BECAUSE SHE'S GOT HEELS ON BITCH!!!

It's exactly where Epel's Pome Pride was when he first joined to dorm, down a drain someplace because Yutu thinks his dorm is the pits. Growing up like he did made him starkly aware of just how different people with money see people like him and instilled a deep hatred of people who make their personality their skincare routine. He thinks the way rich people spend their money is boring and hates that his dorm mates are spending their precious time in a literal apocalypse doing their make up and hair. His Vice Warden is irritated with him and asks what he does then when he can't control the circumstances around him and Yutu goes to snap back at her but finds he doesn't really have an answer.

"Have you even tried taking care of yourself before?" Peyton is looking over his hair in genuine disgust, it's different than the resting bitch face she usually has. Yutu has seen enough of both to be able to tell the difference now.

"I mean I don't not take care of it." Because Yuu had tried to get him to do things like a skincare routine before, and come to think of it they had phrased the reasoning much like Peyton is now. Take good care of yourself. His Vice Warden rolls her eyes and turns towards her vanity, the amount of homemade products and their labels immediately tells him they aren't all for her hair type.

"Yeah but you don't do it well. Look I'm not crazy about bougie stuff either but like, you just feel so much better when you put the effort into yourself and not what other people say about you." She hesitates before meeting his eyes in the mirror and adding. "Trust me, I'd know." And Yutu believes her.

It has got to be hard being a vocaloid stan in a dorm with a literal ballroom.

Yutu really does belong in Pomefiore. He's great with alchemy and magical plants, just like his dad Crewel is all to happy to tell him. They talk a bit about his dad and the situation in the Shaftlands, how no one has heard from Epel since the blot took over and it's insanely difficult to get anywhere near there since the Phantom Hunter makes your life a living hell if you try. Most people think he's dead, but Crewel isn't so sure. He thinks that the various communities across Mt. Moln could easily sustain themselves if they barricaded against the blot monsters, but they also don't have a lot of mages so actually defending themselves could be difficult. Then again this does mean that the stronger phantoms would be less interested, so who knows. In the climate of the day though it is probably best to brace for the worst.

The sports clubs still exist in a less intense manner than before to give people different ways to relax and things to do. Since Yutu loves horses he tried the equestrian club out before deciding it was way too "fussy" and settling in to the board game club since he never really had enough friends to actually play them with before. It's a lot of fun to compare all the ways these games are similar to ones he knows about from Yuu's world and yet completely different. It helps nurse his sadness over losing Yuu since they were the only one who ever played these sorts of games with him and he has fond memories of how they totally never let him win.

He takes a great deal of comfort in knowing his dad had similar struggles with his dorm placement and is overjoyed to learn about the family farm! He wishes he was there right now and drives Peyton absolutely bonkers telling her all about the tests he's run on the soil around campus, how he thinks blot might effect plant growth, and the ways he can think of to combat it. She's crying please just go talk to the Ignyhide kids they totally care about that stuff probably! His lectures end up being useful when they're finally unable to avoid going out on missions any longer as understanding the signs of heavy pollution makes the stronger phantoms easier to track.

It's a realization Epel has also had, secluded in his little village as he is. Harveston has heavily fortified it's position and bulked up it's population with the survivors of other surrounding communities. They have been gifted the ability to endure, but Epel doesn't know if their community will survive long term unless the phantoms are dealt with. The surviving members of his family from the Queendom told awful stories when they retreated here, if that's what's going on in the rest of the world he imagines S.T.Y.X. is probably involved so he tries to keep his eyes peeled for anything like their tech. He manages to find a busted drone in the snow one day and brings it home to work on it whenever he gets a spare moment. It helps him ignore his grief over losing Yuu, his child, and contact with all of his friends. When he's focused on not breaking the drone further, he can convince himself he's either worked through that already or that once he fixes it he will have everyone he lost back at home with him where they belong.

Unit 7954 cackles back to life with a stream of what sounds like a stream of curse words, but Idia has certainly never heard any of them before. He knows that joyful cackle though and he thinks he must have stayed up too long again because he as to be hallucinating. There is no way he's actually looking at Epel, but the whooping before he shyly calms himself down reassures him he is. The two frantically talk about the situation in the Shaftlands and the number of survivors before Idia smacks himself and remembers to mention Yutu's existence. Epel falls off his chair in surprise at the news and Idia is worried he's killed the man before he hears his sobbing. Breaking through the front lines of the Fairest Queen might be impossible, but a video call now that Epel has fixed the drone isn't and Ortho is nice enough to set one up.

"Sevens yer big." Yutu feels like he's 10 feet tall when he hears the drawl of his father's voice. "Bigger than I was at yer age I reckon." The man is certainly taller than him, with lavender waves he's tied neatly back to let him see better under his thick winter clothing. His smile is so warm and friendly Yutu wishes he could dive through the screen and be there with him right this instant. "'s ok if ya don't know where to start with the questions, I bet you got a bunch."

"Why'd you marry Yuu?" It's not what he expected to ask first. He wanted to talk about school, or ask something practical like tips about finding his unique magic or fighting monsters. But that was what he really wanted to know wasn't it? Why Yuu was so important, if he was important to this man and his different accent even after all these years. And the happy smile that relaxes his father screams that he is, it's as if he's shed years of stress and suffering just thinking about his parent.

"Be easier to list the reasons I didn't like them since there aren't any." Epel closes his eyes and thinks about that first moment he realized how much he liked you, tucked away studying in the library and bickering about how to do an assignment as he wondered why you were even there and if you thought he was cool at all. "Since Yuu was from another world a lot of us felt like they deserved a good home here, but that just meant I wanted to invite them over for the summer and stuff like that. Didn't mean I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them, that's what I thought at first anyway. But well, you know Yuu pretty well. They always somehow know where the good lies in even the worst of people. Or at least they knew where it was in me and made sure to believe in it right up until the last day I saw them." They both quiet at the thought of that, Yutu wondering if he should push further before Epel quietly adds. "I hope you know they'd be stupid proud of you for everything. Pomefiore isn't an easy dorm to be a part of but if you put in the work you'll really thrive there, and the both of us really believe you've got what it takes to do that yeah? If you'll let me speak on their behalf anyway."

"Of course you can." Yutu does his best not to cry, but Epel can tell it isn't going to work. "You- you miss them too after all." And isn't that the truth.

The plan to go back in time is decided on before the blockade around Harveston can be breached. Epel gives Yutu as much information as he can about the past and what to expect before he goes, making him promise to hug the younger him at least once in the hopes the memory will somehow flow across time and he'll get a taste of what it's like to hold his son before he sends him off with a "good luck" and "kick their ass!" Even though neither of them fully know who is responsible just yet.

Epel! Yutu has an easier time adjusting to the past than a lot of the other Yutu's thanks to Epel's descriptions of people like- well mostly just his description of Rook. He still comes off as weird but in an endearing way as opposed to an "I need to run for my existence literally" type of way. Unfortunately his dad might have buried the memory of just how in his feelings and jealous he got about Yuu pre relationship. He's rolling his eyes and ignoring everything Yutu says because he wants to monopolize your attention and Yutu is honestly kind of living for it. He thinks it's super cool that his dad is willing to fight for Yuu's affections even though he could be considered to have no chance. He's short, more "cute" than he is "hot," and poor by a lot of people's standards. Sure, Yutu loves the farm life and Yuu must have to raise him in it but if that isn't how you grew up he's super surprised you chose Epel. Surprised and grateful because Yutu really loves his dad.

That love gets through to Epel somewhat, he's super confused as to why the new guy thinks he's so cool AND why he wants to complain about it. Isn't that what he wants? To be seen as cool, strong, and reliable? Well sure but he wants you to see him that way more than anything, it'd make him so happy if he had your approval. He's happy to have your friendship but- well it would just be nice to have you around forever. He's going to miss you when you go back to your world.

Yutu considers re joining the board games club to get close to Idia, but sees Azul and moonwalks his way out of there in a move that definitely doesn't put him on either of their radars and announces to Yuu that he will be starting a book club instead. He does this so he has a reasonable excuse to spend a bunch of time in the library and request access to various archives but Sebek joins since it meets once a week on Saturdays and railroads it into being like. An actual book club. They have other members too and Yutu hates it because he isn't super fond of wasting his time reading things unrelated to his mission but some of the stuff Sebek recommends is good he guesses.

Yutu thinks he's doing a good job of flying under the radar of suspicion, and to be fair Epel and Yuu are a bit too caught up in each other to notice the stranger things about Yutu but Sebek is not and convinces them to surveil where he goes after the book club meetings. Grim is on board just because he's tired of watching Epel and Yuu make heart eyes at each other and he thinks he can get tuna out of it so they make a day of it. It turns out Yutu goes to Craneport every weekend without fail to meet up with... someone. He goes to an apartment building and it would be a bit too obvious if they followed him in there without more evidence (Yuu has to be the one to point this out because you know Sebek and Epel are ready to charge.) So they keep this up for a couple of weeks until one day Yutu cancels the book club meeting and leaves campus early. This time he heads towards the mines Yuu explored with Ace and Deuce for the mage stone that second night they were at NRC. There are several people there, and Yutu does something he's never done, not even around Yuu who he has described as a friend. He lets down his hood.

The shock of lavender that tumbles out from the hood has all three of you tripping over yourselves to cover your mouths. His facial expressions, mannerisms, and even the way he goes the pull his hair screams that he has to be related to Epel. He's admitted to being from your world, and the way he speaks, the shape and color of his eyes and the way he laughs have to come from you. Sebek isn't able to keep it in any more as he starts crying, then loudly denying he's crying, congratulating you on your marriage since you are a friend of the young master before yelling at Yutu for acting in a manner that could have brought dishonor to his parents.

All of this scares the phantom Yutu's friends were hunting out of hiding and forces everyone to fight it. Yutu is extremely flustered from Sebek's scolding but he is nowhere near as embarrassed as Epel who immediately starts taking it out on the phantom and cussing up a storm. It's one of the quicker fights Yutu has had with a blot monster, and he isn't really complaining when Epel drags him and Yuu into the Dwarf's Cottage for a chat.

"So I'm yer Pa, Yuu's m' spouse and ya didn't think to spit that out 'fer you went fighting shit fucks BECAUSE?" Epel is steaming mad, he's almost as red as Riddle which Yutu would be impressed by if he wasn't so embarrassed.

"Um. Cause I didn't think you would-"

"YER GODSDAMNED RIGHT I WOULDN'TA BELIEVED YA! At first anyway." Normal, or would it be fake? Neither Yutu supposes, calm Epel is back as he crosses his arms and really looks at him. "You look like me, and you sound like them. I bet there's things you can tell me about myself you'd have no way of knowing otherwise so why bother hiding yourself? Don't you want my help?"

"Our help." You speak up immediately and Epel nods, affirming what you said slightly embarrassed he let his insecurities forget that you were here too for a moment. Yutu doesn't answer immediately, instead he looks very firmly at the ground as if he would rather be anywhere else than admit what he's about to.

"... not if it means you both die. I- I don't think I can watch that happen again." And oh seven does that change the tone of the conversation, because what does he mean by again?

Yutu refuses to answer until he gets to hug Epel. He expects it to be awkward, but it isn't at all. His dad squeezes him so tightly Yutu is sure his future self has got to feel it as he slowly lays out his story about the bad future and how he thinks it got to be there. About growing up in Yuu's world and the pain of watching you die. Epel is mad as hell to hear about it and swears it won't happen and is halfway out the door before he even has time to process it. Everyone brings Sebek up to speed, who insists on informing the young master immediately; something everyone agrees is a good course of action given how Briar Valley was the first place they know of being effected.

Malleus is delighted that everyone agreed to invite him on their secret mission, but also deeply disturbed by what hears. As Briar Valley's King, it is his responsibility to make sure nothing like Yutu is describing happens for no other reason than it would harm his subjects, but he can't help but be personally insulted that whoever did this would rob his human friend of their happiness too. The only re-payment he requests is that when (not if) he saves the future that Epel and Yuu invite him to the wedding, baby shower, christening, and any other important milestone they have in their lives. It's an easy enough thing to agree to Epel thinks. He has the approval of Ace and Deuce already, so to have Malleus announce he accepts him as your man too? That's all of the family you've collected in this world so... it's not too much trouble to ask you to join his, right? He won't be tricked this time, promise. You will walk this life hand in hand until the eternal sleep takes you both, and that won't happen until Yutu is practically an old man himself. And you of all people should know what Epel can do when he sets his mind to it; he got you to fall in love with him after all, didn't he?

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #epel felmier x reader #future kid au #peyton to me is the mean older sister from an early 2000s disney channel show/movie #like #she's mean but she does ok maybe sort of care :/#she'll loan you her good lip gloss for a date and then help you hide the body if your bf turns out to be shit #and other just girly things like that you know?#ty so much to archivist for coming up with her and letting me use her #i love all their ocs to pieces

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mosylufanfic · 3 days

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If you're still doing it, Casual Encounters for the fic titles?

For this title, nonny, I'm absolutely still doing it.

I love the thought of Jyn being the queen of one-night stands. It's just easier that way, you know? She tried to be the girlfriend type in high school but they always got so pouty and whiny when she didn't call them back. She has no desire to call them back. They're going to make her do shit like go to the movies or out to dinner before they get down to business.

Look, she is what she is, she's not going to apologize for it. She's busy. Scholarships don't win themselves, and while she knows her foster dads' employment at Yavin University will take care of most of her tuition, she's determined not to be beholden for the rest of it.

When she gets into college, she stops trading numbers. By her junior year, she stops trading names. Stops them when they try. Yavin University is big enough that she doesn't have to see anybody twice if she doesn't want to.

Bodhi doesn't like it, mostly because he's got some dude friend in his grad program that he thinks would be just perfect for her. "He's smart, he's funny, he can keep up with you - I just think if you met him, you'd like him."

"You're a romantic," Jyn says, and both of them know it's not a compliment.

Anyway, there's this guy that keeps turning up. Dark eyes, tall and lean, fine with no names. Just her type. He even had his own condoms the first time they hooked up in the backyard of a frat party.

She breaks her own no-repeat rule the next time she sees him, at a bar. He buys her a drink, then fingerbangs her in the alley. She goes down on him in his car. It's only polite, if you think about it.

It gets to be a thing. Sequential one-night stands, catching each other at parties and bars and street fairs and one time a visiting professor's lecture. (They did wait until the lecture was done. It was really good.)

They still don't know each others' names. Sometimes she thinks he'd like to ask.

Sometimes she'd thinks she'd like to tell him.

He doesn't sleep over, of course. God, of course not. The one day he wakes up in her bed was because they ran into each other at the library in the wee hours, both of them pulling near-all-nighters to finish midterm projects.

"Stress release?" he offers.

One of her other rules is that she never fucks in the university library because if Chirrut or Baze or one of their co-workers ever caught her, it would be unspeakably awkward. Which is why she impulsively says, "My place isn't far."

She wakes up before him and waits to feel that recoiling sensation of somebody being too close. She doesn't. That's weird.

She gets up and goes to make coffee. A key scrapes in the lock, and Bodhi staggers in, yawning.

"I've got someone here," she says once she finishes teasing him about his walk of shame. "He might want the shower."

Bodhi grunts, guzzling coffee, just as Jyn's bedroom door opens. She's head-deep in the fridge, trying to determine if the yogurt is worth the risk, so she just hears her multiple-one-night-stand's voice, ringing with shock. "Bodhi?"

Bodhi says, "Cassian?!"

(Of course, inspired by @andorerso's Rebelcaptain Smut Month. Does this count?)

#Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #rebelcaptain #ask game #okay this got really long #but it was fun!#thanks nonny #star wars

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coloursflyaway · 3 days

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I've been leaving comments on your fic because they're just wonderful & really hoping your inbox isn't flooded with prompts already because I'm longing for more "oh no the feelings are there all along" Edwin:

Nothing really changed between them since his second time in Hell, and Edwin wouldn't have it any other way. Except, now he's not sure how he used to keep his thoughts intact with Charles being around and... being Charles.

I love your character studies! They're so adorable, the way you write them.

Hi and thank you so much for the prompt, I had a ton of fun with it! ♥

The Most Tender Place In My Heart

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.200

Read on AO3

There is something said about the concept of hindsight, only that Edwin isn’t sure if it’s something good, per se. Because now that he knows what he feels for Charles, it’s like his brain is working overtime just to make sure that he is, in fact, in love with Charles, which is slightly ridiculous, since it only takes a single look for Edwin to confirm it again and again and again. It’s the way his heart flutters, his eyes get stuck on one of Charles’ features, his fingertips aching for the warm buzz touching Charles grants him. And yet, in those quiet moments between cases, or sometimes deep at night when they are both busy with their own research, Edwin’s mind wanders through the three decades they have known each other, searching and finding those moments in which Edwin could have known he was in love with Charles, had he ever allowed himself to consider the possibility.

Edwin goes down a trip down memory lane, and Charles needs someone to spell it out to him that he is in love.

There is something said about the concept of hindsight, only that Edwin isn’t sure if it’s something good, per se.

Because now that he knows what he feels for Charles, it’s like his brain is working overtime just to make sure that he is, in fact, in love with Charles, which is slightly ridiculous, since it only takes a single look for Edwin to confirm it again and again and again. It’s the way his heart flutters, his eyes get stuck on one of Charles’ features, his fingertips aching for the warm buzz touching Charles grants him. And yet, in those quiet moments between cases, or sometimes deep at night when they are both busy with their own research, Edwin’s mind wanders through the three decades they have known each other, searching and finding those moments in which Edwin could have known he was in love with Charles, had he ever allowed himself to consider the possibility.

It’s pointless, it’s quite distracting, and most importantly, Charles seems to be catching up on the fact that something is happening to Edwin, because it keeps happening.

Since, apparently, there is a plethora of instances for his treacherous brain to choose from.

It is the year 2002 and they are running through an abandoned school, the ghost of an enraged headmistress on their heels, whose spirit had gotten stuck to the metal ruler she is still brandishing. The ruler is the problem; it’s made of iron and it’s actually quite interesting that it doesn’t seem to hurt her at all, but burnt like hellfire when it had touched Edwin’s arm.

So, they are running to find somewhere to regroup and Charles is laughing. Why, Edwin isn’t quite sure, but there is no time to figure it out, at least not until Charles drags him into a supply closet, closing the door behind them. They’re very close like this, Edwin realises and isn’t sure why that seems to matter so much. It’s not like they haven’t been close before. And yet, his hands burn almost like he is touching iron, only pleasantly this time, as do his cheeks when Charles looks at him.

“Why are you laughing?”, he hisses to distract himself from the sensation; there is something wrong with it, but Edwin isn’t certain what. Hopefully it is no side effect from the iron before. “I fail to see anything funny about this!”

Charles grins at him and although they were just being chased by one of the few things that can cause them physical harm, he looks happy, he looks fond. Of Edwin. And that, at least, makes Edwin feel a bit better.

“It’s nothing”, Charles replies, although that is obviously untrue, because he is still smiling, “’s just that it reminds me of being in school so much. I used to spend quite some time running away from teachers back then. Only that this is better, of course. No detention, no letters to my parents and my best mate with me.”

And he reaches up to grasp Edwin’s upper arm, something he has started doing about ten years ago, and Edwin inexplicably feels like shivering, feels like pressing closer.

“Oi, Edwin!”, Charles calls out to him, looking amused when Edwin’s eyes focus back on him. “Where did you go?”

He must have spaced out, which is embarrassing, but, well. It’s the same school.

“We have been here before”, he replies weakly and Charles shakes his head, still fond of him, even after all these years.

“I know, that’s what I’ve been telling Crystal about”, he tells Edwin, gesturing towards Crystal, who is standing a few metres away, looking at a bulletin board of old, outdated flyers. “Is that what’s been happening to you, getting lost in old memories? Because I know you’re the brains of the operation, but I do notice these things.”

For a second, Edwin wants to deny it, but then again, he never made a habit out of lying to Charles and doesn’t want to start with it now. And in the end, it’s just memories they are talking about, harmless and innocent and in the end, also ones that Charles and he share.

So, he nods, and Charles gives him a smile, which almost feels like a reward.

“That’s cool”, Charles replies, although Edwin isn’t sure if agrees with the statement. “Tell me about it next time, yeah? Only if you want to, of course. But I’d really like to hear it.”

It is the year 1989, they have only known each other for a few weeks, and Charles pulls him into the first hug they ever share. He’s excited, because he has navigated them through the mirror successfully, something that had ended in disaster every other time, and Edwin has hardly even stepped through it when Charles’ arms are around him, dragging him close. He feels solid against Edwin’s chest, a faint buzz spreading across where they are touching, and Edwin doesn’t know how to react, because he hasn’t been touched like this – kindly, like he matters, with the intent to give comfort, not pain – in so long, he has quite forgotten what to do.

“Finally did it”, Charles says next to his ear, and pulls him closer still. He seems quite oblivious to the fact that Edwin is just standing there, and that’s good, because Edwin doesn’t think he could move if he tried to. It feels strange, being in Charles’ arms, makes him tingle, become overly aware of just where Charles’ arms are resting on his back, where his chin is digging into Edwin’s shoulder.

Maybe, he thinks, and it makes him giddy, like this is something forbidden, something sweet, he’ll be able to return the embrace the next time.

He considers it for far too long, especially because in the end, the decision turns out to be quite easy, based on one thing alone: Charles had asked for it.

They are back at the agency, Charles reorganising his backpack, and Edwin looks up at him from his book, and the words just tumble out, before he can stop them. “Do you remember the first time we hugged?”, he asks, and Charles makes a little sound, pulling their emergency bone saw from his backpack before looking over at Edwin.

“Yeah, sure. You were a little stiff back then, but I still remember how happy I was because you were so solid. I think you were the first thing I felt after I died, like, really felt”, he replies, then pauses for a moment so he can turn to face Edwin fully. “Why are you asking?”

If he still physically could, Edwin would be blushing, like this, he just feels flustered, phantom heat spreading down his throat, through his limbs until it touches his fingertips. “Ah”, he starts, rather unintelligently, “you were asking about the memories, the ones that distract me occasionally. You wanted me to tell you about them.”

Charles nods slowly, but his brows are furrowed like he is trying to put together a puzzle he doesn’t have all the pieces for yet. Edwin would very much prefer if he never found the missing ones. “Why that one?”, he eventually asks, and that’s the rest of the pieces, right there.

Of course, he could lie by omission, or just pretend he does not know the answer, but in the end, Charles will figure it out anyway. He is a detective after all. So instead, Edwin takes a deep breath he doesn’t need and rips the band aid off with one single sentence, even if it stings.

“Because I am fairly certain that I harboured some kind of romantic feeling for you even back then, only that I did not know how to recognise it.”

Silence stretches between them, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, and even if Edwin can feel the nervousness seep into the cracks of his mind as it continues, he says nothing; Charles deserves the time he needs to digest this.

So, he waits, and eventually, Charles’ eyes clear and he smiles at Edwin, a small, soft, tender curve of his lips that shouldn’t mean as much as it does.

“Thank you for telling me”, he says, and Edwin knows that he means it by the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. “And, if you want to, I’d like to hear the next one, too.”

It is the year 2017 and their hands brush together when they are standing in front of a very angry sorcerer, who has been shouting at them for the better part of ten minutes. Usually, it would pose little problem, but the reason they are standing here is that they have been summoned; the circle and the runes around them the only things keeping them here. The sorcerer will get sloppy, Edwin knows that, and he will come too close and Charles will hit him with his cricket bat, use his body to wipe away the runes, but until then, they are stuck here.

And their hands brush together, which they have done a thousand times before, only that now, Charles hooks his little finger around Edwin’s, gives it a little squeeze. It’s made to soothe him, and it does, and if Edwin thinks about it for the rest of the week, he refuses to wonder why.

“Back in the late 2010s”, he tells Charles on a case, Crystal just out of earshot. “You nearly took my hand when we had been summoned by one of those idiotic wizards and I thought about it for days. I am fairly certain I was in love with you back then, too.”

Charles looks over to him from where he is standing, eyes widening for a second, before they go soft once more. “I remember that, I think”, Charles says, and maybe they aren’t remembering the same sorcerer, the same situation, but that hardly matters. “Thank you for telling me.”

And later, much later, Charles takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, and it’s the same rush, the same buzz; Edwin thinks about it for the rest of the week and doesn’t pretend otherwise.

It is the year 1992 and they have just established the agency, found a psychic who would let them rent out the top floor for the cheap price of keeping an eye on his offspring after he had passed on.

“You know, this is pretty brills”, Charles says, laying on the floor and staring up at the ceiling, as if it was the open sky. “I never thought much about being dead, but so far, it’s been fantastic.”

“You think so?”, Edwin asks, sitting down next to his still-new friend. He won’t lie down, not with all the dust, the cobwebs, but he still wants to be closer to Charles if possible. “I wouldn’t hold it against you if you missed your life.”

“Nah, it’s all good”, Charles tells him, a lopsided smile on his plush lips and even if Edwin suspects that the statement won’t be true forever, in every situation, it is now. “Nowhere I’d rather be here, is there? Starting a detective agency with my best mate. Don’t you agree?”

He does, only that he suspects that, unlike for Charles, it’s an answer that won’t change again.

“Do you remember when we first started the agency?”, Edwin asks and Charles laughs, maybe for good reason. “Of course. How could I ever forget that?”

He sits down next to Edwin on the sofa, and his eyes are so kind, so warm that Edwin feels like he might fall in love with him all over again. “I wish I had lain down with you on the floor back then, on our first night here”, he tells Charles, and resists the urge to reach out and put a hand on his thigh, his knee, any part of his body he could reach.

“No, you don’t”, Charles answers, and there is still laughter in his voice, making it even more lovely. “You would have been impossible about it after, with all the dust and the dirt.”

“They can’t get dirty, they’re spectral”, Edwin protests, but Charles just shakes his head.

“It would have felt like it though, wouldn’t it? You would have known it and you would have been insufferable about it”, he says and he is right and knows it too. “Actually, maybe you should have laid down with me, it would have been pretty funny.”

And he laughs and Edwin joins in, and finally does reach out and rests his hand on Charles’ ankle, and revels in how right it feels.

It is the year 2011, they are in Florence to investigate a statue that is rumoured to start moving at night, a sure sign of some kind of haunting, and it’s night, the stars illuminating the sky like little pinpricks.

And Edwin looks over at Charles to say something, only for the words to die right there on his lips, because Charles looks so beautiful in the dim light. Almost ethereal, the deep shadows making his cheekbones sharper, his lashes darker, the quirk of his lips more pronounced.

Appreciating the human form is important, no matter the gender, Edwin tries to rationalise it later, but for weeks, there is something like apprehension whenever he looks over at his best friend.

They are walking through Norwich, trying to find an heirloom, and the sunlight catches the silver necklace Charles is wearing, making Edwin think of stars and the night sky and the brightness of his leash spells, only that this is one he wears happily, proudly.

“One time in Florence, you looked so beautiful it would have taken my breath away, if I had still been breathing”, he tells Charles, and it shouldn’t be so easy to do it. But Charles just looks at him, warmth and affection and understanding painted across his features in bold, impossibly to miss strokes, and Edwin wonders how it could ever be difficult instead.

“We haven’t been in Florence in ages”, Charles says, and Edwin nods.

“I remember it anyway”, he answers although Charles hasn’t even phrased the question yet, and he thinks it will stay at just that, but Charles hums, stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“You know”, he tells Edwin after a few moments, and he doesn’t sound reluctant, just like he is putting a thought into words for the first time, “sometimes, usually when it is rather late, I look over at you and I don’t want to look away again.”

And he smiles at Edwin, like it is nothing, nothing at all.

It is the year 1999 and Charles brings a book back from his walk. He doesn’t go out on his own often, but sometimes when Edwin gets too focussed on his research, he leaves so he can walk the streets aimlessly. Sometimes, he goes to see a concert, occasionally visits a club, and when he gets back to the agency, he tells Edwin all about it without fail.

This time, however, Charles doesn’t say a word, only puts the book down in front of Edwin and waits for him to look up. When Edwin does, there is a strange, faraway look in his eyes that Edwin doesn’t like at all.

“What is the matter?”, he asks, and then, when Charles does not reply, adds, “Did something happen?”

“I realised that I will be dead for a decade next week”, Charles finally answers, but the expression doesn’t change; Edwin wants nothing more than to reach up and wipe it from his face with his thumbs.

“I know”, Edwin says. It is an anniversary he has never brought up but also never forgotten.

“That’s more than half as long as I was alive”, Charles continues and sounds brittle somehow, “Isn’t that strange?”

“Yes”, Edwin agrees.

“So, I thought”, Charles starts and then stops, pushes a hand through his hair and leaves it mussed. “I thought, maybe you could read to me? It made me feel better back then, and I’m not quite sure how I feel now.”

And Edwin looks down at the book in front of him; it’s a detective story. G. K. Chesterton, someone whose work Edwin knows quite well.

“Of course”, he says, and gets up to fulfil his promise, “Anything you need, Charles, anything at all.”

“Do you remember the tenth anniversary of your death?”, Edwin asks, a finger resting on the spine of that particular G. K. Chesterton novel. The Man Who Was Thursday, not a particular favourite of his, but now a novel that holds a special place in his heart.

“Sure”, Charles says from where he is sitting on their armchair, legs dangling over the side of it. “What of it?”

“I should have hugged you, that night when you asked me to read to you”, Edwin says and pulls the book from its shelf.

“I would have liked that”, Charles answers, but there is no judgement in his voice, just fondness. Like it is enough that Edwin knows that now. “You can hug me now, if you want to.”

He puts down the comic he is reading and holds out his arms; makes Edwin laugh until his chest doesn’t feel heavy with sorrow any longer, and feels so right in his arms when Edwin comes over and embraces him, no matter how awkward the angle, the book digging into their sides.

“I think”, Edwin mutters into the space between Charles’s shoulder and neck just before he pulls away once more, “that if I had let myself back then, I would have liked it, too.”

It is the year 2004 and Charles grasps his arm when they are walking down the street, which feels like a luxury after spending two weeks on a case that allowed them hardly any moment of rest.

“Could we stop for a bit?”, Charles asks, and for a second, Edwin doesn’t know why he would want to, but then he hears the guitar playing, hears the girl’s voice ringing through the street. She’s a street musician and it’s close to Christmas so she is wearing a Santa hat as she sings, her fingers slowly turning blue from the cold.

And she’s pretty, but Edwin hardly notices, even if he fears that Charles does.

The tune sounds out of place, because it isn’t even close to December, yet the cafe Crystal drags them into is playing a carol. It isn’t the same on as it was back then, because this is not about fairytales and not about New York, but when Crystal leaves them at their table to get a drink, Edwin turns to Charles anyway.

“In 2004, you wanted to stop and listen to a singer on the street”, he tells him, words jumbled together by how quickly he is talking; he has to get this out before Crystal returns. As much as he likes her now, this is between Charles and he alone. “I was jealous because she was beautiful and you looked at her like you knew it.”

A moment passes, and then Charles laughs softly, reaches out to cover Edwin’s hand with his own where it is resting on the table. “Edwin, mate”, he says, and he sounds tender, loving, warm. “I’m sure she didn’t compare to you.”

It is the year 2006 and if he could still feel, the sun would be hot on his skin, warming up limbs that have forgotten the feeling. Like this, he only imagines it, and finds that the memory of sunshine feels the same as the memory of Charles smiling at him, Charles taking his hand as not to get lost in the dark, as Charles hugging him when he is happy, exhausted, relieved.

Edwin doesn’t try and imagine sunshine after that.

There is a single ray of sunlight coming through the window of their agency, illuminating a spot just right of Charles’ feet, and the memory hits Edwin so hard it would leave him gasping if he still breathed.

“You alright?”, Charles asks from where he is sitting and when he looks at Edwin, it really feels like sunshine, feels like warmth and a gentle breeze on a summer’s day. “Yes”, he answers and it’s true, because he’s finally basking in sunlight once more. “It’s just that I truly love you, Charles.”

“Love you, too”, Charles replies without missing a beat, a smile that feels like summer rain on Edwin’s skin.

He turns back to his book, and Edwin doesn’t expect more, doesn’t need more, but then, just a few seconds later, Charles looks up again. His brows are drawn together, like something is puzzling him, and Edwin, who was still watching, knows that whatever he will say will be important.

“Hey, so this might be a strange question, so if you don’t wanna answer it, that’s fine”, he says, and Edwin would tell him whatever he wanted to know. “But, like. How did you know you were in love with me?”

It’s not the question Edwin expected, it’s not a question he ever expected to answer, but Charles looks like he truly cares about his response, so Edwin swallows down the hint of panic rising in his throat.

“I had someone spell it out for me”, he says and thinks about Monty for a moment, his curiosity, his kind eyes and soft lips. “And as soon as I heard the words, I just knew they were true. Maybe that is why my mind keeps searching for all the times I could have known it before then.”

There is a pause in which Charles just watches him, then he gives Edwin a smile that looks strange on his lips, unfamiliar even after all the years they have known each other. “Thank you”, he says, and there is something in his voice too. “I really mean that. Thank you for trusting me.”

As if Edwin could do anything but.

It is the year 1995 and it’s so late it’s early again, and even though he doesn’t have a physical body, Edwin is still exhausted. They’re on a case and it’s just been dragging and dragging on without an end in sight, and no matter through how many books they go through, there seems to be no solution, no explanation, no way to stop the curse.

He’s all but swearing under his breath when he picks up another volume from the desk, thick and bound in dark linen. It’s the eighth one in a row and the letters are starting to blur in front of his eyes, but he has to make sense of this somehow; they cannot let the young man who hired them suffer any longer.

A grown escapes his lips, and a few moments later, there is a hand on his shoulder, another one gently closing the book in front of him. “I think that’s enough for today”, Charles says softly, and while the letters were hazy, his face is crystal clear.

“But-”, Edwin tries, but Charles just squeezes his shoulder and when he smiles down at Edwin, it feels like a benediction.

“We’ll continue tomorrow”, Charles tells him, and Edwin is powerless to do anything but nod.”For now, lets just go upstairs and watch the stars.”

London is spread out before them and it’s been decades since Edwin has truly missed feeling the wind against his skin, but he does so now as they settle back against the wall, Charles’ head tipped back to watch the night sky.

“I think I loved you even back in 1995”, Edwin tells him.

There is no response for a while, the silence not unpleasant, but unexpected. They have found a rhythm with these small confessions by now; Edwin will share a memory and Charles will give something back. It makes it easier for Edwin and he hopes, thinks, believes that it does the same for Charles.

Eventually, Charles turns his head, and his eyes are dark, unreadable, beautiful.

“I think I love you now”, he says, and for a few moments, Edwin doesn’t hear him.

“I know”, he answers when he does, and Charles smiles at him, fond and sweet, like he has missed Edwin for decades and only found him again.

“I don’t think you do”, he responds, unmoving, and something around them shifts; the stars grow brighter, the sky darker, the small corner of the roof they are sitting in smaller. “But I want you to.”

And he leans in and presses the softest, the sweetest, the most certain kiss to Edwin’s lips. It’s over before Edwin can react, but Charles stays close and watches his reaction, his gaze so intense it feels like a touch in its own right, a caress to Edwin’s skin.

“How…?”, he whispers into the space between them; it doesn’t feel real. How do you love me, he wants to ask, how did you fall in love with me,and how are you certain of it? And most importantly, how do you know it now, after so much time?

Charles seems to hear all of it in just one word, because he moves his hand so he can link their little fingers together, and replies, “I had someone spell it out for me, memory by memory.”

And kisses Edwin again.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #i am genuinely unwell about them

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priincebutt · 19 hours

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Better late than never, eh?? I haven't really written anything post-worthy in the past few days, so I'm coming at you with a lil snip from the last chapter of my WIP long fic, The Story of Us. I'm hoping to get back to writing this bad boy this week, maybe next, and I am excited to dive back into it. Thank you for the tags @piratefalls , @onthewaytosomewhere , @thesleepyskipper , @ninzied , @sparklepocalypse

@softboynick , @heysweetheart-writes , @indestructibleheart , @tailsbeth-writes , @suseagull04

@blueeyedgrlwrites , @stellarm !! I appreciate all of you all keeping up with me and tagging me <3 Enjoy this lil snip!

Alex comes with Henry’s name ripped from his lips, fingers digging into the pale skin of Henry’s powerful thighs, and they both collapse into each other, sticky and sweaty with lips leaking laughter as they wrap up together and match their breathing, coming down and back to themselves. Alex lifts his head to look at the clock on the bedside table and startles, reaching for his phone to confirm that it’s almost 6 PM and their reservation is in thirty minutes. So their laughter is the soundtrack as the hurry into dress pants, and each button that’s popped through a hole of Alex’s white with black gridwork oxford earns him a peck of a kiss. Henry’s just slid into the softest cashmere sweater Alex has ever felt, a deep v exposing the peaks of his collarbones and a golden chain clasped around his neck. He’s gorgeous in his simplicity, from the understated blushing pink of his sweater to the black wide legged trousers, hair still tousled from their romp, lips kiss-swollen and full. God, Alex is so in love, and it hits him like a punch to the gut as he watches Henry inspect his reflection, ruffles his hair and sighs as he gives up on creating any semblance of sanity with it. “I think you’ve given me a hickey – what?” Henry stops as he turns and finds Alex staring at him, and Alex knows the look on his face is one of absolute adoration – he feels it in the crook of his lips, the way he can’t school his features into anything but goofy heart eyes at his boyfriend. “In your own words… ‘you’re so gorgeous,’” Alex chortles as he sings the lyrics, and sways his hips a little bit, hands coming up as he dances like the uncultured man he is.

Going to tag @thinkof-england , @hgejfmw-hgejhsf , @forever-fixating and anyone else who may want an open tag!! It's late so I'm not going to dive into a super long tag list I don't think <3

#my writing #red white and royal blue #rwrb #red white and royal blue fan fiction

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helianskies · 24 days

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ugly maths.

i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.

thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!

you... wanna see?

okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!

ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!

huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—

better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—

mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?

here, i can make it worse.

these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.

now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.

why ugly?

because it makes me ugly.

those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.

87, 75.

the thoughts are as follows:

• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.

• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.

• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!

okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:

that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.

4, 708.

ugly maths.

the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!

27.

mmmm.

6161, 1061.

5100.

87, 75.

12.

mmmm.

you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(

it made me :)

well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.

they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.

have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?

i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.

oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.

ready?

838, 245.

(want a hint? the green numbers!)

838, 87. 245, 75.

9.6, 3.3.

ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!

the numbers make me ask new questions:

• why is it not good enough?

• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?

• is all this maths this really good for you?

no, it isn't.

i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.

ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.

ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.

i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.

#helia rants #cw vent #i'm okay but i'm not #this has been playing on my mind over the last couple of weeks #it's aimed at the sky rather than anyone here #i know i'm not the best myself as commenting. i justify it to myself by affirming i don't read much. which i don't.#since the start of the year i have tried to comment on everything i have read #bearing in mind i may also dm someone rather than comment because i want to scream and ramble about their fic more personally #that being said. i know i'm not the only one who finds themselves doing ugly maths #and in turn starting to feel uglier too #i don't like looking at the numbers #i was doing well at the start of the year #but as i open my drafts and look to a new chapter and at the notes i wrote #i can't stop myself from opening the fic. from seeing where it's at. from seeing if it's changed. from checking my inbox to see if...#if only...#what it's meant is that i've come to a point where a fic i loved has become exactly that: a fic i loved. past tense #the other fic is still a fic i love. but i know deep down that that is tied to the numbers too #i hate that this is what i've become #because i have tiny fics. fics with 50 hits and maybe 1 comment. and i love them. i still love them #but when it comes to the big ones. the multi-chapters. the hefty fics. after a point all i see are numbers #and those numbers have come to determine both my happiness and fulfilment as a writer #and so i am ugly. i am sad. i am pathetic.#and i don't know how to stop.#helia's stuff #this was meant to save back into my drafts. i was editing tags. tumblr decided it should post. so... so be it.#also this is not an attention thing if anyone dares go 'oh but you're a good writer uwu' i might do something we'll all regret #this is also not a 'ffs comment on my fics will you 😒' hell no #it's just about me. and my issue. and my unhealthy relationship with these fucking numbers.#gotta get this shit out of my head somehow :)

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arklay · 1 year

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once upon a time i liked a ship for what it was and then i saw how the fandom treated it and now i have visceral hatred towards it (harsh but not far off)

#leah.txt #normal i swear #it’s like i’m just so tired of seeing it and i think it’s cause a lot of the time people mischaracterise the characters involved so often #when talking about it and i hate it. i’m being vague cause don’t want it showing up anywhere. but like in canon the concept is so good and #so juicy even though i am not really a fan of like enemies/lovers kinda tropes. slash cause it’s more lovers to enemies but were always #technically enemies but real bonds formed on accident and that always runs deep even after the fact etc etc it’s such a good ship in concep #and then you see the fandom and go ah you’ve made it insufferable to me now. it gets reduced to just like the most i mean fandomy shit #it happens so often with me now that it’s like i need to not look at tags ever actually akdjsjsksns #so so vague but the concept of falling in love and fraternising when you shouldn’t and so many elements of you are going to betray this #person when the time comes but you can’t help falling for them and the other side being i shouldn’t be falling for this guy he’s my #superior officer but it’s like no he’s actually not and he’s a mole and he’s going to kill you all off. and then running for him when he #gets injured. that’s so. even after he tells you that you what his plans were. still caring. but like. out of anger and hurt you bruised hi #ego and insulted him and that starts big revenge run of like someone who can’t take criticism or being made to feel lesser… but you have to #hunt him down even if you still hold feelings for him he is everything you stood against and were fighting and now you’re fighting him when #you loved him. irl you know i hate this shit and betrayal and lying and all that you know this i’m just talking in fiction it’s got so many #layers. having to kill the man you once loved because he became everything he was against and he developed delusions and lost his mind. IT #HURTS. then you look at the fandom and it’s like teehee they’re just soooo gay gay homosexual and it’s like. this ship has layers. it’s lik #an onion. but okay. and it’s always just like i mean the gross people come out with the really gross fics with it but like omg it’s such a #good ship in concept with lovers becoming enemies when they shouldn’t have been lovers in the first place because it was a sort of forbidde #setting. the captain and his subordinate. captain who is actually a mole and going to betray these people who he has unintentionally formed #some bonds with. actually learning they are on opposing ends. the man they saw as fair and just and cool is a liar a manipulator a scheming #bastard who is only doing things out of self interest BUT HE GOT FEELINGS. it’s so arghghhhggggg and that’s why the criticism hits deeper #cause it’s someone he cared about and it’s so aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #like there’s a reason it’s the most popular ship because i mean they are literally each others narrative foil lmaooo but like the fandom #just somehow makes it weird a lot and i’m 🧍🏼 why guys why #and what i mean by gross people and gross fics is what a lot of people do to villains doing to others even when they aren’t like that. you #guys are just nasty and gross and need to not share things like that <3 #i feel like it's a lot of just fetishising two men being together rather than focusing on their dynamics and characters

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kenntolog · 25 days

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𝝑𝝔 an: so i got like 3 requests ab jealous cool bf sukuna x loser gf dynamic but i won’t be able to tag em since you know they were sadly anonymous. i decided to combine them into 1 fic hehe, hope you guys like it!! read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!

cool boyfriend sukuna doesn’t get jealous, alright? he is not insecure or anything like that, he trusts you and you trust him so it doesn’t matter to him if someone tries to woo you or something. but you can be a little dense sometimes since you haven’t experienced a lot of the things people usually do in their teens.

still, he likes to think that you’d be smart enough to reject anyone who tries to make their advances toward you, albeit he is sure if you do it will be in a very polite and a sweet way, much to his dismay. but it’s just the way you are and sukuna loves his loser girlfriend.

but he doesn’t know what’s going on through your mind when this happens;

“do you wanna maybe go out tomorrow?” some guy from your class asks you, a nervous smile as he awaits your answer. you continue collecting your things into your bag and look up at him with a small smile, naively thinking he wants to study or talk about your shared classes.

“sure!” you chirp and then briefly glance at the door of the room only to find your boyfriend standing there, hands in his pockets and a deep frown on his face as he stares at you two.

the guy in front of you almost jumps in excitement from your answer, stuttering out that he will text you later and leaving the room.

“what did that nerd want?” sukuna asks you as soon as you exit the class, his arm taking it’s usual spot on your shoulders.

“oh, nothing much, just asked if i wanna go out tomorrow.”

at that, sukuna’s steps come to a halt as he squints at you with a confused look. “and you said..?”

“i said ‘sure’.”

he exhales deeply before hits the back of your head with a disgusted look on his face, ignoring the way you stare at him in bewilderment, hands flying to rub the spot. but he doesn’t give you time to process anything, tugging you into one of the empty classes and locking the door.

“sit.” sukuna orders, leaving no room for complaint as he lifts you up to sit on one of the desk, planting his hands beside your thighs on the surface as he breathes heavily.

“‘kuna..?” you ask, unsure if you should even say anything while he’s angry at you.

“are you dumb?”

you pout, brows pinching together as you look up at him in genuine confusion, “why?”

“the dipshit asked you out and you said ‘sure’?”

“we were just talking about the lecture so i thought he wanted to study together.” you look down at your lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt nervously. “i didn’t realise he meant it like that.”

as mad as sukuna is, he can’t resist that sad little pout on your face; the way your eyes get all wide and bottom lips juts out defensively, cheeks puffing a little. and he is sure you’re not lying to him because he knows you.

he moves away from you, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts and calm down.

“are you mad at me, ryo?” you ask innocently, hand instinctively finding his to tug at his fingers so he doesn’t move too far, although a bit unsurely. “‘m sorry.”

“i’m not mad.” sukuna intertwines your fingers, pulling you into himself gently. his other hand suddenly finds your face, squishing your cheeks together roughly as he shakes your head from side to side with a sinister smirk. “pull shit like that again and i’ll kill ya.”

“ow, ow— sukuna!” you whine, trying to peel his hand of your face, but he doesn’t let go until he kisses your plumped lips a couple of times. “you’re so jealous!”

that wipes the smirk off his face very quickly.

“i’m not, loser.”

you poke his cheek with a bright beam on your lips, “you are, heh.”

“gettin’ cocky, aren’t you?” he pushes your face away with his palm and steps away from you, leaving you to trail after himself with small giggles escaping you.

suddenly sukuna smirks, his arm around your shoulders tightening it’s hold, “i’ll still beat the shit out of him tho.”

“sukuna, no!”

#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader

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nanaslutt · 1 month

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the best teacher

ʚ synopsis: Nanami finds out you've never had an orgasm and he's determiend to show you exactly how to do it

ʚ pairing: Kento Nanami x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, established relationship, inexperienced reader, he talks you through it, fingering, clit play, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, masturbation, protected sex, prone bone, rough sex, big dick Nanami, fluff

ʚ note: congrats @l0rdgeosupport3rr on winning my spur of the moment fic giveaway, i hope u enjoy <3

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI (18+)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Are you nervous?" Nanami asked, his deep voice right against your ear seeping into your head and making your brain turn to mush. His hands dragging from your thighs to caressing your torso was quite distracting as he sat behind you, your back against his hard chest. You could feel his excitement poking you in your lower back, making you wonder how much he was holding back right now.

You had confessed to your boyfriend Nanami when a makeout session got a little hot and heavy, that you had actually never touched yourself. Well, not successfully anyway. It took everything in you not to cower away when he sat you down in front of him and made you explain exactly what you were having trouble with. You confessed you wanted to take things further with him, but you were nervous. Every time you touched yourself, you would bring yourself right up to the edge, but you could never manage to push yourself over the ledge and feel that bliss everyone always talked about.

Nanami, the ever-loving boyfriend he was, generously offered to help you out. Nanami hadn't had many partners before you, but he did read romantic and erotic books in his free time and maybe went a little above and beyond in biology class when the topic of discussion was women's bodies. Kento never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable with his actions if he were ever to be intimate with someone, so he studied like hell to make sure that never happened.

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart. I'm gonna walk you through it okay? Just leave everything to me, all you gotta do is relax and pay attention." Nanami whispered against your ear, his reassuring words making your body relax and melt against his. "Good girl." He praised when he felt your shoulders go slack against him. Nanami continued to rub his hands up and down your soft thighs, one hand caressed your stomach and hips and the other crept up your skin to squeeze your breast through your bra, making you bite back a moan on instinct.

Nanami noticed you holding back your sounds, and dragged his other hand to massage both breasts now, squishing them together and kneading them in his large palms. You rolled your head to the side and tucked your face in Nanami's neck, pressing your thighs together as the stimulation sent jolts of your head to the bundle of nerves between your thighs.

"You don't have to hold back your voice with me. You can be as loud as you want, just let it out. I know it feels good." Nanami praised, crossing his hands over your chest and sliding his right hand under the cup of your left breast, and his left hand under your right one. Nanami felt his cock twitch when you released little gasps and moans into his neck, your breath tickling his skin.

He resisted the urge to fuck his hips against your ass, not wanting you to think he was trying to rush you. The older man found your hardened buds under your bra and pinched them softly, rubbing and twirling them with his fingers. Both of your hands shot up to grab his thick wrists for comfort as you squirmed against him, rubbing your thighs together to bring yourself some relief.

"Does that feel good, honey?" Nanami asked, looking down at you from under his lashes. He couldn't see your face, as you were still hiding it in the crook of his neck, but your noises and the way you nodded rapidly agaisnt him were good enough. "Does your cunt ache?" Nanami asked, licking his lips as he watched you hump against your thighs. "Mhm." You responded, your body jolting and shaking against his as he rubbed your nipples expertly with his large fingers.

"Good, you should always warm your body up first before you touch yourself. Don't rush, get excited. Wait until you can feel yourself dripping." Nanami instructed, his vulgar words making you want to shy away from him even more. "I need to know you're listening. Do you understand?" He asked, pausing his ministrations until you gave him a proper answer so he knew his teachings would not be in vain.

"Yes." You whispered against him, making Nanami crack an almost unnoticeable smile at your bashfulness. "I'm gonna rub your pussy over your panties now," Nanami warned you, waiting for a nod of understanding before he pulled one of his hands out from your bra and started dragging it down your body. He flipped his hand and just barely ghosted his fingertips down your body, dragging them down your skin as he made his way to your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Little gasps and choked breaths from you made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to restrain himself. "Part your legs for me, please," Nanami asked sweetly, waiting until your legs were spread before he hooked his legs over yours, making it so that if the stimulation got too much, you couldn't snap your legs on his hand while he got you off. "H-haah.." Your breathing seemed so loud in the now suddenly quiet room and Nanami did the same motion he did down your body, just teasing his fingers over your knees and down to your sensitive inner thighs.

"Kento..." You whined breathlessly, rocking your hips into the air out of impatience. Nanami's resolve faltered for a moment when your ass started grinding back on his cock, giving him the perfect stimulation. His eyes rolled back in his head as he lost himself for a moment, relishing in the pleasure. "You want me to touch your pussy?" He teased, his voice deeper and more aroused sounding than before as his lips tickled over your ear.

You slightly leaned your head away from him, exposing a bit of your neck and the side of your face to his lips. Kento pressed a featherlight kiss to your ear, making goosebumps raise over your arms before he spread his fingers like a V and teased them around your cunt. He let out a sigh with you, his cock twitching when your hands squeezed his wrist that held your tit tighter.

"Please Ken, I need it." You begged, spreading your legs further to emphasize your words. You couldn't take your eyes off his hand that teased over your pussy, not yet touching you where you needed him the most. Kento massaged your breast in circles, using the fat to calm himself down when he felt a bead of pre-cum leak from his aching dick into his boxers.

"Is this what you need?" He whispered sensually against the shell of your ear as he pressed his thick middle finger along the center of your pussy, dragging it against your clit, down to your needy hole, which had now soaked your panties with your juices. You let out a gasp and tipped your head back against his shoulder, exposing your neck as your eyes fell shut in bliss.

"This spot here is important," Nanami spoke between kisses against your throat, his eyes half closed in bliss. He tapped his thick middle finger against your clit, before he pressed down on it and started rubbing it in circles. "Oh fuck-" You gaped, your chest inflating as you sucked a deep breath into your lungs. "You need to touch your clit like this if you want to cum." Nanami instructed, making sure you were nodding after every sentence he spoke.

"Uh-huh, u-u-huh." You moaned, nodding dumbly as you relished in the feeling of Kento touching you through your panties, your greedy hole clenching around nothing at his touch. "How do you touch yourself? You said you have trouble finishing, are you touching your clit like this?" Nanami asked, making your face rush with blood. Your cheeks felt hot as you opened your eyes and looked between your legs. Nanami watched you watch him from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to speak.

"Y-yeah." You tried to speak, your voice coming out breathier and more stuttered than you thought it would. "It gets really i-intense the closer I get to..." You trailed off, darting your eyes to the side of the room. Nanami raised his eyebrows and rubbed his fingers faster over your clothed clit, his cock throbbing when your voice hitched and your moans raised in volume. "You can say it. It gets intense before you orgasm, right? That's why you can't finish, your body goes rigid, doesn't it?" Nanami said, hitting the nail right on the head.

You nodded at his words, taking a moment to greedily take air into your lungs when Nanami ceased his rubbing and nonchalantly started sliding his fingers underneath your panties. "Y-yeah, f-fuuuck." You began to speak again when your words were cut short as Nanami started rubbing his bare fingers against your hot, wet clit. It felt ten thousand times better than him teasing you through your panties.

"It feels so much better after teasing yourself right? Your body is worked up and ready for more, it's aching for it. You nodded, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you whined into the room, your moans echoing off the walls. You were unable to stop your hips from jerking into his hand when he started rubbing your clit with two fingers more rapidly.

"I-its you," You gasped, your nails digging into his thick wrist that held your tit. Nanami cocked his head in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. "Y-you, it feels good b-because it's you," Nanami swears at that moment his brain short circuits as he fights every neuron in his body to not send signals to his dick to cream his pants right now. "You really..." Nanami trails off as he slides his hand out from your bra and grabs your neck, tipping your head to look up at him.

His lips collide with yours in a passionate, needy kiss. His lips move quickly, wasting no time before his tongue was mingling with your own, making your already needy pussy throb for more. "Gonna put my fingers in." He moaned between kisses, his eyebrows furrowing when your humping got more needy, and your ass rubbed his cock just right from behind.

Your lips separated from his own with a gasp as he slid a finger down to your tight, sopping entrance and pressed it in. Both of you moaned in tandem when he slowly slid his finger in till the base of his finger was pressed against your entrance. "I'm gonna need you to put what you learned to use for me sweetheart, can you do that?" Kento asked, releasing the hold he had on your neck, settling just to rest his hand on your throat. You nodded at him, feeling yourself pulse and squeeze around his thick finger that stayed still inside you.

"Go ahead and rub your clit for me, small circles, just like I did." He instructed. You reached your shaky hand into your panties with his own and found your clit which was already wet with your juices from Nanami's previous touches. "Good girl." Nanami praised you as you followed his instructions. The second you started moving, Nanami did do. "A-ahhh-" Moan after moan fell from your lips when Nanami started curling his finger inside you and thrusting at the same time, sending intense shocks all throughout your body.

"This is your g-spot, some people can cum just from touching this spot here, but most of them need clitoral stimulation as well," Nanami said. You did your best to nod along with his words and listen in general, but the stimulation was so intense, it was making your head spin. "Ah ah, keep moving your finger." Kento tsked, slowing down his own when he saw how lazy and slow your fingers got while rubbing against your clit. It wasn't your fault he was making your body go slack.

"We have plenty of time to figure out if you can cum just from penetration another day." Nanami voices, pressing his soft lips against your cheek in a kiss. "Right now I'm focused on bringing you to orgasm." The way in which Nanami so causally talked about these things made you dizzy. Sex and things of the like were usually taboo and embarrassing to talk about, but not to Nanami, and he was determined to make you feel the same way about it.

"I'm gonna add another finger okay?" Kento asked, slowing down his thrusting inside you. "Yeah, uh-huh." You responded, half listening to his words. Nanami smiled to himself as he watched your eyes fall shut, your finger now rapidly rubbing circles against your clit shamelessly as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Nanami pulled the first finger out and slowly reinserted it with a second one. He spread his fingers a bit as he slid them inside your warm walls, trying to stretch you out so you were able to take something bigger later on.

You winced in discomfort when he scissored his fingers inside you, but that discomfort soon diminished when he curled his fingers against that same spongey spot against your walls, making you see stars behind your eyes. "H-harder, Ken fuck me harder." The man behind you was unable to suppress the groan that slipped between his lips from your shameless words, his hips canting against your ass, rubbing his cock against the inside of his boxers at your shameless words.

"For a virgin, you're surprisingly needy. You sure you haven't done this before? Did you just want me to baby you?" Kento teased, picking up the pace of his fingers as he spoke. Moan after wonton moan spilled from your lips, your body thrashing and jolting against his as the pleasure from your g-spot and clit combined to form a ball inside your stomach. "N-no, I haven't I- promise." You stuttered out, gasps and whines cutting you off as you got closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm teasing, sweetheart. You are close though aren't you?" He asked, noticing how your pussy clenched around his fingers more frequently. "You gonna cum for me? Gonna orgasm all over my fingers?" Nanami groaned, the squelching from your sopping cunt going straight to his neglected dick. "F-fuck yes, I- I think so y-yes." You cried, thrashing your head from side to side agaisnt his chest.

Your hand that still held his hand against your throat squeezed tightly. He noticed your fingers slow down on your clit at the same time, a telltale sign that you were close. Nanami had a feeling you needed both clitoral stimulation and penetration to get you to reach your high, and he was determined to make you finish. "Doing so well my love, keep rubbing your clit, you can't stop, okay? I know you can do it, almost there." Nanami's reassuring words helped you focus on putting all your strength into your finger that rubbed back and forth agaisnt your clit.

Suddenly, your chin was being pushed up and Nanami's lips connected with yours in a sloppy kiss once more. Kento groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your pussy constricting his fingers. His wrist started to ache from curling his fingers against your tight walls so repetitively, but he knew if he stopped, you wouldn't cum. Your desperate whines and moans against his lips aided in fueling his tired wrist to continue on and finish you off.

"Kento- I'm- I'm cumming-" You whined high pitched against his lips, your legs shaking as they fought to push against his own that held yours open. It was getting harder and harder to kiss him back as your body went ridged, your mouth opening in a wide O, and your eyes rolling back in your head. "That's it, right there, yeah-" Nanami's own jaw dropped and he watched with awe as your body convulsed with pleasure.

He moaned with you as if he was cumming himself, his body curling forward with yours as you came, your legs shaking and cunt trambling around his fingers. Your own hand had stopped rubbing your clit, just resting against it as you came, no longer having the strength to touch yourself as you orgasm for the first time. Nanami continued curling his fingers against your g-spot until the spasms had stopped and you slapped his wrist with your hand, letting him know it was getting to be too intense.

"Fuck- fuck-" You gasped, your body stayed curled over yourself as Nanami leaned back, separating his chest from your back. The sound of a zipper followed by rustling, then skin rubbing on skin brought you down from your high completely. When you tried to turn around, Nanami pushed your upper back down again, forcing you to stay bent over like you were. You could hear his heavy breathing and gasps from behind you. You knew exactly what he was doing.

Leaning forward, you placed your hands on the bed in front of you and spun around, sitting on your knees between Nanami's thighs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you did so well." Nanami praised, looking into your eyes as he stroked himself off. Your eyes trailed down to his thick cock, and you gasped in awe at the size of his cock and how wet and flushed it was. He must've been really holding back.

Nanami's large hand caressing the side of your face brought your attention back to his eyes, away from the mess that was between his legs. "Don't worry, I'm almost done. Just couldn't take it anymore." Nanami rushed through his words, obviously drunk off your orgasm. Your heart was racing out of your chest. You wanted to help him but you had no idea how to. It seemed unfair for you to get off with his help and not give him the same treatment in return.

A moment of confidence washed over you, and you reached out to grab his wrist, stopping him from touching himself. "Sweetheart really, I'm almost there, it's oka-" "Use my pussy." Your words hit Nanami like a freight train. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He squeezed the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from busting a nut all over himself right then in there from your words alone.

"What?" Nanami asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. "You can fuck me." You said again, nodding at him. "You... you stretched me out, right? I can take it." Nanami swallowed hard and pulled his lip between his teeth, his head knocking back against the pillows for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. He didn't want to pressure you into doing something you weren't ready for, although you seemed to really want it.

Nanami released his cock and cradled your face with both hands, making you look into his eyes. "Are you sure?" He asked, summiting to the idea surprisingly quickly, you were expecting a little more pushback. "I'm sure." You nodded, placing your hands over his own that held your face. Nanami's cock twitched, bobbing heavily between his legs in the open air, hastily pulled out from his boxers and pants. "Then... please lay flat on the bed with your stomach against the sheets.

Your heart raced as you listened to Nanami rip the condom package open behind you. The pillow he stuffed under your hips before you laid down was putting a nice pressure on your pelvis, making you squirm in anticipation. A large hand pressing into the sheets by your head brought you back to reality. You saw the shadow of Nanami's much larger figure behind yours as he hovered over your body, stroking his cock over your ass.

"Keep your thighs together, you can even cross your ankles over one another, I read that feels good for some women." You felt like cumming already. Nanami's show of intelligence about the female body made you want to scream, but you settled on nodding, wrapping your arms around the pillow under your head for support as you let out a noise of understanding.

"If it becomes too much or you need to stop at any point, let me know," Nanami instructed, waiting until he heard a verbal answer from you before he readied himself. Nanami took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, reminding himself not to get carried away or be too hard with you. "Okay, relax for me," Nanami instructed. His large hand gripped your thigh to pull your ass to the side so he could get a better view of your pussy from the back as he prepared himself to put it in.

"Nanami, I can take it. I'm not going to break." You whispered into the pillow, words Nanami made sure not to miss. You closed your eyes when you felt Nanami's chest tickle against your back. A kiss was pressed against your temple, making you shut your eyes as the kiss was lasting. "Thank you, sweetheart. You always take such good care of me." Nanami whispered into your ear as he rubbed his cock agaisnt your hole.

You felt a heat rush over your skin at the feeling of his hard cock touching your cunt. It felt weird, hot, hotter than you imagined. Nanami gripped his cock hard at the base and pressed his fat tip against your hole, thrusting his hips forward against your ass slowly as he inserted his cock inside you. The two of you gasped in tandem when his tip penetrated your walls and his cock split you open.

Nanami watched as your eyes rolled back in your head, your pussy clenching and squeezing mercilessly around him. "Please, r-relax your cunt honey, I can't get inside you if you're like this," Nanami begged, feeling his orgasm build up inside himself already. It had been a while since he last got laid... a long while, he knew he wasn't going to last long, but neither were you, so it would work out perfectly.

"It's not me- y-you're so big." You whined, trying to relax your cunt around him but it didn't seem to do anything at all. Nanami bit his lip at your words and dropped his chin to look at where the two of you were connected, his cock throbbing against your walls at the sight of your tiny cunt sucking him in perfectly. "Yeah? My cock is big?" Nanami teased, his voice deep and raspy as he fully pressed his hips flush against your ass, smiling to himself when you tried to scoot your body up on the bed, trying to escape how deep he was inside you.

"Y-yeah, fuck-" You whined, crossing your ankles over one another. Your clit was being stimulated between your thighs, bringing you the perfect relief as Kento slowly thrust his cock in and out of you. "Can you feel how deep it is inside you?" He asked, emphasizing his words with a mean, hard thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. The way you were squeezing your thighs together made the stimulation and pleasure on his end ten times more intense, as each time he pulled out, his cock was still being squeezed by your ass and thighs pressed together.

"'S so deep-" You whined, your eyes rolling back in your head. Nanami's resolve snapped at that moment. You sounded so fucked out and horny, he was unable to stop [ his hips from moving into yours. He quickly found a pace as he thrust his cock inside you, your pussy squelching with every thrust. Each time he fucked his cock inside your walls, it felt like your intestines had to expand to make room for his girth, but it was all rewarded each time he rammed his hard cockhead into your sweet spot so deep inside you.

"Oh god, right there!" You cried, your body jolting when Kento angled his hips in a way that allowed him to slap his cock into the most sensitive part of you with each thrust. Nanami placed his other hand by your head, allowing him more momentum to fuck into you as he was in a steadier position. "Yeah, right here? Is this your sweet spot?" Nanami cooed, feeling his balls throb with the need to fill you up with each thrust.

You nodded dumbly, drool dribbling out of your mouth and onto the pillow from how lax your mouth was. Nanami wanted to kiss you so bad, but he didnt want to move too much and jeopardize the position he was in right now, as he was fucking into you just right. "Do you need me to play with your clit?" Nanami offered, feeling his orgasm creep up on him faster than he expected, even though he knew he wasn't going to last.

"N-no, I'm gonna f-finish like this." You cried, tensing your pelvis and abs as you felt your own high grow closer and closer. Nanami nodded at your words, his eyes darting between your ass that ripped with each thrust and your eyes that rolled back in your head each time he pounded you. Nanami brought his hips back enough to where his cock was almost completely pulled out of you, just his tip remaining inside your walls before he slammed his hips agaisnt your ass, shoving his entire length inside your cunt.

You were unable to speak as your high washed over you unexpectedly like a freight train. Your entire body went tense, and your cunt squeezed impossibly tighter around Nanami's cock like a vice, making him stutter in his thrusts as you came all over his cock. "Oh god-" Nanami groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head and his head dangling limply in front of him as your pussy pulsed rhythmically around him.

"I'm cumming, c-cumming-" Nanami did his best to warn you before he finished, but his orgasm caught him off guard much like your own, so he was only able to groan out a small warning before wonton groans and moans were spilling from his lips and his cock shot hot ropes of his seed into the condom. Nanami's body jerked and his abs clenched as he came, hard.

His hips stilled against your own, just twitching and jerking as he came inside you. You could feel his cock kick and throb as he filled up the condom, the warmth from his seed burning your walls and warming you up from the inside out. Kento hissed as he pulled out of your tight cunt, apologizing when you made a sound of discomfort as well. You forced your tired body to roll over to the side to look at Nanami.

The man looked disheveled and exhausted. A deep blush spread across his face and down under the V of his collared shirt, his hair was ruffled and his forehead was dripping with sweat. He looked so focused as he slid the used condom off his softening cock, letting the heavy appendage fall against his thigh as he tied it in a knot and placed it on the edge of the bed for himself to throw away later.

He found your eyes once he was finished, a smile gracing his features as he tucked his cock back in his boxers and crawled over to you, wrapping you in his embrace. He rested his head on your chest as you cradled his head with your arms, your legs wrapping around his torso. "You did so well for me, made me feel so good sweetheart, I'm so proud of you."

You nuzzled your head against Kento's, feeling your heart swell. "Thank you for trusting me." You said, referring to when you told him you were ready and you could take it. Kento lifted his head and leaned forward to press a kiss against your lips. "Of course my love." He responded. "I need to clean you up soon, but I understand if you need a minute to recover," Nanami said, laying his head back down on your chest.

Although he felt sleepy, he knew he had to fully take care of you first before he let himself drift off. You just lost your virginity and just had an orgasm, you were bound to be a little emotional and more fragile right now. "A few more minutes." You replied, feeling your body melt under the comforting weight of him. You felt so loved and protected as he laid on top of you, pressing kisses to your chest and collarbones.

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