#I just like the slowburn they have that they grew up together and are completely comfortable with each other

[raionmimi]

Hi! I simply wanted to say that tour Symweaver stuff is beautiful, and also, What do you Think about "Sunflower" (by Post Malone and Swae Lee) as the theme song of these two? I think it's perfect for them!

I'm so sorry but the song is hardwired into my brain to think "that's the Miles Spiderverse song" to think of anything else 😭 I'm glad you're able to pull Symweaver out of it! I do enjoy listening to songs with ships in mind when I'm drawing, so I'll try to revisit it with them in mind

It's a common shippy song, but I really enjoy "From the Start" by Laufey for Symweaver because I love the idea that either they both of them thought their feelings were unrequited until they were adults, or that Lifeweaver was always aware of her feelings and just let her vibe until she was comfortable expressing it

[cbeargyu]

virgin's debut

A friendship can’t be ruined by having sex… can it?

⊹₊⋆ pairing: best friend!haechan x fem!reader x love interest!jaehyun (slight)

⊹₊⋆ warnings: angst, fluff, smut, best friends to lovers trope, protected sex, unprotected sex (use protection pls), fingering, making out, nudes, slowburn, suggestive redaction, mild cursing, reader is a virgin lol, haechan isn't, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance.

⊹₊⋆wc: 18,3K

READ THE PREVIEW [HERE]

Two weeks later

haechan sighed again, his chest heavy as he collapsed onto the couch. With both hands, he covered his face, fingers digging into his skin, trying to block out the past two weeks.

hyuck didn’t understand why there was this twisted mess of emotions swirling in his stomach, why his thoughts were so scattered, a jumble of "what ifs" and "should I's".

it had been two weeks since you made that insane proposition to him. haechan hadn’t talked much since then, just the occasional texts letting each other know when they’d left or entered the building they both lived in. the topic hadn’t come up, and you hadn’t pressured him either. but, god, it haunted him.

it was unthinkable. his values just wouldn’t allow it. sleeping with his best friend? never crossed his mind. but you—you weren’t just anyone. you’d been inseparable since high school. your sense of humor matched perfectly, and everyone knew the two of you were a damn force together. their friends noticed the bond, the way they both seemed to fit like puzzle pieces, always there for each other, even when they fought. like siblings, but with none of the blood ties.

that word, "siblings"—it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was strange that others saw them two like that. but they were okay with it. there were boundaries in their relationship, and crossing them was unforgivable.

of course, you were angelic. your bubbly personality and constant jokes made you irresistible. physically, you were gorgeous, though you were a bit shorter than him—way too short, maybe. you had black hair and an odd but cute bangs just above your eyebrows, something he liked to tease you about.

and yeah, you’d catch anyone’s eye. he wasn’t gonna lie—he’d had a crush on you when he first met you in high school. but over time, that romantic attraction faded as your friendship grew stronger.

maybe it was also the way you were so open with your thoughts—no filter, no shame—that when you asked him about sleeping together, it sounded completely natural to you. to him, though? It was a punch to the gut, a cold shower, a slap to the face. he was spinning, disoriented, trapped in what felt like a twisted fantasy—or maybe a nightmare.

for him, sex wasn’t a taboo subject. he’d lost his virginity at 17 to one of his many girlfriends, and talking about it was casual. hell, haechan didn’t even hold back when discussing the details of his past experiences with you. he’d even described how he’d "done it" in vivid detail—like it was nothing.

but you? you were different. you had dated three guys since high school, but none of those relationships lasted more than two months. so, you didn’t exactly know what it was like to be in a serious, long-term relationship. snd sex? It didn’t seem like a necessity in your life—at least not until now.

“I mean, when you’re dating someone romantically and nothing happens, i’d call that a win,” you said, casually munching on a slice of lemon tart.

haechan furrowed his brows, taking a sip of his coffee. “explain that.”

“it’s simple,” you shrugged. “because if they haven’t seen you naked, you can run into them on the street and not have to worry about that bastard seeing your ass.”

heck couldn’t help but laugh at your reasoning. “right, totally.”

you both chuckled, agreeing on that one. but he also knew, deep down, it wasn’t that simple for him. not anymore. he couldn’t ignore what was bubbling beneath the surface.

haechan felt a buzz in his pocket. his phone. the first class of the day was about to start, and he had to rush if he didn’t want to be late. he lived close to campus, just a five-minute walk, but the class was on the other side of the building.

but this situation? it was messing with his head so much that he couldn’t fall asleep until 3 AM these past two weeks. he grabbed his backpack and keys, about to head out when his phone buzzed again.

it was you. a message: “i’m heading to class, just leaving my apartment.”

haechan froze. he hadn’t expected you to text him now. his hand gripped the doorknob, but he didn’t open it. the thought of seeing you right now made his heart race. he wasn’t ready. not yet. he couldn’t just pretend like everything was fine.

"shit... y/n, what were you thinking?"

he sighed deeply. what was this? haechan could hear his own voice in his head, his thoughts like an endless storm. he couldn’t stop thinking about you—about what you had said, and about everything that had changed in such a short time. his stomach twisted. what would happen if he saw you now? could he face you? could he even be the same around you after what you had suggested?

he shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts. He didn’t have the answers, but he knew one thing: this wasn’t going to be easy.

haechan let out a deep sigh, adjusting his scarf around his neck before stepping out of his apartment. he tried to calm himself, convincing himself that he could handle whatever came next. as if nothing had happened. as if he could just brush it off and pretend it hadn’t been weighing on him for the past two weeks.

but every time he thought about it, it made his chest tighten. that proposal of yours. the way you had looked at him, so casually, as if it were no big deal. he couldn’t get it out of his mind. he had always been the life of the party, the one to make jokes and laugh things off. but this—this was different. it gnawed at him like an insistent itch he couldn’t scratch, a question with no answer.

he made his way to campus, each step seeming faster than the last, but his thoughts were tangled in a mess of confusion and frustration. you hadn’t seemed bothered. if anything, you had acted like it was just another conversation. you hadn’t even tried to talk to him about it again, hadn’t pressured him. but that only made it worse. the silence between you both was deafening. you had sent that message, but it wasn’t the same. it was as if you had moved on without even thinking about it, while he was still stuck in the same place, drowning in his thoughts.

it was absurd. he was known for being the carefree one, the one who didn’t let anything get to him. but now? now he was a mess. the more he tried to convince himself that it was no big deal, the harder it was to believe it. you had said it so easily, like it was a joke, and yet it had shattered something inside him. the truth was, he didn’t know how to look at you anymore. he didn’t know how to face you after that. how could he? after everything?

haechan shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. his footsteps carried him toward the building, and the closer he got, the more his anxiety grew. he couldn’t avoid it forever. he’d have to see you eventually. the communication department wasn’t that big, and it seemed like the entire campus would lead him straight to you.

as he reached the entrance of the building, his alert system kicked in. you were probably inside already. and damn it, the thought of running into you—now, after everything—felt like a punch in the gut. you hadn’t even mentioned it again, hadn’t tried to force a conversation. yet he could feel it. the tension. the distance. how had it gotten to this? why did he feel so… disconnected?

he stopped for a second, hand resting against the doorframe, trying to breathe. but it was like everything had changed. nothing was simple anymore. he had been your best friend for so long, but now? now it felt like he was walking on eggshells, unsure of what would break first.

“hey.”

a light punch to his back snapped him out of his daze, and the blood immediately drained from his face. that voice—he couldn’t mistake it, not even if a million voices tried to mimic it. His breath hitched, and he turned around so fast it almost hurt.

there you were. small, as always. a knitted beanie sitting snug over your head, that— ridiculous—fringe barely brushing the tops of your brows, framing your delicate face in a way that made his throat dry. a long grey coat hung from your shoulders, swallowing you slightly, and your black boots clicked softly against the floor. everything about you looked… normal. the way you looked at him, the way you smiled, even the casual punch to his back.

physical contact.

that word echoed in his head like a siren. he quickly shook the thought away, locking his focus on the paper Starbucks bag dangling from your left hand. maybe you’d stopped by the café on the way. maybe you ordered delivery. maybe someone gave it to you. maybe—god, he needed to stop. the hamster in his brain was doing flips, and he wanted to knock some sense into himself.

you held the bag out toward him.

haechan just stared at it for a second, until you raised your eyebrows, shook it again, and snapped, “are you gonna take it or what?! geez, i brought it for you and you’re just standing there looking at it like an idiot.”

your expression twisted in mock annoyance, brows curved upward—but oddly, he felt the tightness in his chest ease a little.

reluctantly, haechan reached out and took the bag, brushing his fingers against yours for a second too long. he tried not to react, but his mind was a chaotic storm. He couldn’t help but look at you—really look.

had you always looked like this? that coat hugged your waist just enough. the shape of your figure was something he never let himself notice before. and your chest… jesus. it wasn’t like you’d suddenly changed, but it felt like someone had wiped the fog off his glasses. He was seeing you differently. entirely.

and that terrified him.

he lowered his eyes quickly, too aware of how warm his ears were getting.

“thanks,” he mumbled, voice a little hoarse.

“no problem,” you replied, glancing around casually. “i figured you might skip breakfast again, so…”

you trailed off with a small shrug, stuffing your hands into your coat pockets. haechan tried to smile, but his stomach was tangled in impossible knots.

haechan took another deep breath as he tried to collect himself, shifting the weight of the Starbucks bag from one hand to the other. he looked at you, trying to ignore the pull in his chest—the sudden awareness of every little detail about you. there was a tension he couldn’t shake off, something that sat heavy in his stomach.

you seemed to notice his distracted state and leaned against the wall, your usual easygoing posture, the same as always, except now, he couldn’t stop noticing how you looked in that oversized coat and those boots. he was spiraling again, caught in the thought of you.

“so…” you broke the silence, “i’ve been kind of swamped lately. working on this branding project for a client. it’s been a pain, though. my computer decided to die on me right when I needed it most.”

haechan raised an eyebrow, his mind snapping back to reality. “really? you didn’t tell me about it. why didn’t you ask for help? I mean, i know a thing or two about fixing computers. I could’ve helped you.”

you shrugged, a small, nonchalant smile playing at the corners of your lips. “nah, i called taeyong instead. he’s better with that stuff.”

there was a sharp tug in haechan’s chest. he hadn’t expected that. the knot in his stomach tightened, a wave of discomfort washing over him. taeyong? really?

he tried to laugh it off, but there was something bitter in his tone as he asked, “taeyong? why him? i thought you knew I was good with that kind of stuff.”

“yeah, well,” you quipped with a raised eyebrow, “taeyong just happened to be the first one I thought of. besides, he’s pretty quick with tech stuff.”

haechan’s smile was tight, and his stomach churned. he told himself it was nothing. he was being stupid. but why didn’t you ask him? he had always been there when your tech failed. it felt… weird. almost like you didn’t need him anymore. but, of course, he didn’t voice any of that. instead, he played it off, trying to act casual.

“sure, sure,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. he was so not handling this well. the thought of you asking someone else for help left him unsettled, and he hated how much it bothered him. It was irrational, but he couldn't shake it.

you noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he pulled back just a little. your smile softened as you leaned forward slightly, breaking the silence again.

“hey,” you said gently, “i’m sorry if it upset you. it wasn’t meant to make you feel left out, really.”

haechan quickly looked up, trying to look unfazed. “nah, it’s fine. I mean, it's not like i’m the only one you can ask for help, right?” he joked, but there was an edge to his voice that didn’t quite match the tone of his words.

you raised your eyebrows, a knowing look in your eyes. “you’re acting like a total prude right now,” you said, a smirk forming. ��didn’t you used to tell me all the crazy stuff you did with jang chanmi back in high school? and now the topic of helping a friend with a computer is freaking you out?”

haechan blinked, taken aback. the mention of chanmi, especially in the context of your teasing, was enough to snap him out of his spiraling thoughts. he groaned, running a hand through his hair, trying to laugh it off. “well, that was different, okay? that was high school stuff.”

you chuckled, leaning back against the wall, clearly amused by his discomfort. “oh, come on. don’t tell me you’re too shy to talk about tech problems now. you used to explain every position you tried with her—like it was a lesson in geometry or something.”

haechan let out an exasperated sigh, not sure whether to be embarrassed or grateful for the way you were managing to cut through the tension. he couldn’t stop the blush creeping up his neck, and he cursed under his breath. of all the people, you had to be the one to make him feel like a damn fool.

“well, that was different, okay? It’s... it’s not like i’m comfortable talking about that stuff with you anymore, alright?” he almost winced at his words. the last thing he wanted was to make it sound like he couldn’t be himself with you.

you tilted your head slightly, your tone playful but with a hint of mischief. “don’t worry, though. I just asked taeyong to help with the computer. i didn’t make the same proposal to him that i made to you.”

haechan’s eyes went wide. he froze, his face instantly flushing. did you really just say that? the sudden wave of heat rushing to his face felt like he was on fire. his brain scrambled for words, but all he could manage was a surprised, “wait, what?”

you laughed softly, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him.

“you’re scared i’m gonna bring it up, aren’t you?”

“what? i—no, i’m fine,” he said too quickly, almost defensively. “just tired. you know, early class. cold outside. normal stuff.”

you didn’t say anything right away. just looked at him with that calm gaze of yours, the one that could read people like open books.

that hit him harder than expected. he flinched. swallowed. you tilted your head slightly.

“it’s okay,” you said, voice even. “if it made you uncomfortable… we don’t have to talk about it. ever. i’m not gonna ambush you or corner you or expect anything.”

haechan blinked. your tone was so mature, so measured—like you’d thought about this. like you knew what it had done to him.

“it was dumb of me,” you continued with a small smile. “or maybe not dumb, just… bold. and i get it, you didn’t sign up for that. so, if you want to forget it ever happened, consider it forgotten. clean slate.”

he didn’t know what to say. a hundred emotions jostled in his chest, fighting for space. gratitude. relief. guilt. and something else entirely—something heavier and harder to name.

because despite everything, despite the panic and confusion and awkward silences, you were still here. talking to him. offering him coffee. smiling at him like you always did.

but something had changed. he saw it in the way he noticed your lips when they moved. in the way his eyes lingered a beat too long on the curve of your body. in the way his mind kept circling back to that question you’d asked two weeks ago.

and the worst part?

haechan didn’t know if he wanted to go back to before.

before everything had shifted. before he started noticing all these things about you—things he had never allowed himself to see. he wasn’t sure if it was fear of the unknown or something else entirely, but the thought of things returning to how they were felt… difficult.

“anyway,” you said, standing up from the railing and brushing your hands off as if to clear the air between you. "i’ll see you later. don’t overthink it, alright?"

the casual way you said it made his chest tighten. he could feel that something was still unspoken, that there was more you weren’t saying, but he didn’t press. you were good at hiding what you truly felt, always had been.

haechan tried to push the conversation out of his mind as he entered his class on media studies. he sat down, pulling his notes in front of him and attempting to focus, but his thoughts were all over the place. his brain kept circling back to your words—had you meant everything you said? Was it really that simple for you?

the ice-cold americano you’d brought him sat on the edge of his desk. Its perfect arrangement, just the way he always liked it, made his chest tighten for reasons he couldn’t explain. he watched as droplets of water gathered on the glass, slowly tracing their way down to pool at the bottom.

he was distracted. but even more than that, he was feeling something he couldn’t quite name. his gaze wandered over the cold surface, the way the water clung to the glass—his mind drifting to you. to your smile. to the way your voice had lingered in his thoughts.

he imagined, for a moment, what it would be like if those droplets were slipping along your skin instead. He didn’t want to think about it, but his mind had other plans. every thought that surfaced seemed to lead back to you—the curve of your lips, the way you had looked at him just before leaving.

his pulse quickened, a wave of heat rising to his face. he snapped back to reality, but the blush was already creeping up his neck. "what the hell am i doing?" he muttered under his breath, quickly looking down at his notes again, trying to focus. his mind refused to cooperate. why was he thinking about this now? why was his body reacting like this?

he could feel the tension rising, like a knot tightening in his stomach. he had never been this aware of you before—not like this. and the worst part was, he didn’t know how to stop it.

you buried your face in your hands, heart racing, panic rising in your chest. what had you done?

the proposal you made to haechan wasn’t random—not by a long shot. It came from somewhere raw, impulsive, and aching. you’d convinced yourself he would say yes. no hesitation. no second thoughts. that’s what your friends told you, right?

"guys are easy. especially when it comes to sex. they’re always down," yeri had said with a laugh, trying to encourage you. “come on, it’s haechan. he jokes about that stuff all the time.”

and maybe that was the worst part. because you believed her. you judged your best friend through a lens of assumption, reducing him to some stereotype, thinking he’d just say yes because he was a guy. because he was him.

but he didn’t.

and now you knew—you had judged him so, so wrong. haechan wasn’t like the guys in those stories your friends always told. he wasn’t thoughtless. he wasn’t careless. he was kind. and considerate. and the look on his face after your question… you could still see it. confused. hurt. maybe even disappointed. not because you asked, but because he didn’t know how to respond without breaking something between you.

the guilt clawed its way up your throat.

you hadn’t asked him just for the sake of it, either. it wasn’t some random experiment. it was desperation. because ever since last fall, ever since he came into the picture, something in you had changed.

jung jaehyun.

a senior in the visual arts department. tall, graceful, and unfairly good-looking—like he’d walked straight out of a perfume ad in a fashion magazine. chiseled jawline, smooth voice, perfect smile. the kind of man who turned heads in every hallway he walked through. girls whispered about him constantly—rumors, fantasies, stories that may or may not have been true. he was confident, magnetic, dangerous in that way only people who know they’re desired can be.

and of course, you weren’t immune.

you saw him at a few parties, caught glimpses of him sketching in the studio, his sleeves rolled up and headphones in, and felt a pull you didn’t fully understand. it wasn’t love. It wasn’t even a crush. it was curiosity. lust. a hunger you didn’t recognize as your own until it became too loud to ignore.

your friends told you to go for it. "just hook up with him," they said. "get it over with." but you couldn’t. you didn’t have the experience, the confidence, the… proof that you could be the kind of girl someone like jaehyun might want.

so you turned to the only person you trusted. the only one who made you feel safe, unjudged, seen.

haechan.

and now you’d hurt him.

you hadn’t just crossed a line—you’d shattered the trust he’d always given you so freely. all because you were afraid. because you wanted to prove something. because you thought he’d just say yes.

but he didn’t.

now you sat in the middle of your typography and composition class, surrounded by the soft clatter of keyboards and the low hum of your professor’s lecture, your laptop open in front of you and your adobe illustrator file untouched. letters floated on your screen in random positions, but your brain couldn’t form a single coherent thought. you weren’t even sure what the assignment was supposed to be.

your body was there—but your mind was somewhere else entirely. caught in the swirl of embarrassment, regret, and confusion. a storm of emotion you didn’t know how to calm. all you could think was: what have I done?

it had been a week since that conversation. on the surface, everything seemed fine—like a reset button had been pressed. you and haechan still exchanged jokes, shared snacks, and sat next to each other in class. but underneath the laughter and casual glances, there was a strange hollowness, like the two of you had become actors reciting old lines in a play that didn’t fit anymore. robotically pretending the elephant in the room didn’t exist, even though its shadow loomed over every interaction. after all, everything had already been said, hadn’t it?

still, something was off.

haechan hadn’t hooked up with anyone since then. it wasn’t for lack of trying—he’d gone out, flirted, danced—but each time, his mind wandered back to you. and it wasn’t just idle thoughts. no, it was worse.

every night that week, he'd woken up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, heart racing, and a painful hardness straining against his boxers. dreams of you—wearing almost nothing, bent in suggestive positions, whispering filthy things in his ear, inviting him to taste you, to touch you—played on a loop in his subconscious. but right when he was about to finally reach you, melt into you, he’d wake up frustrated and breathless. left with no choice but to slip his hand under the waistband and relieve the aching pressure. for serotonin. for oxytocin. for sanity.

now, it was saturday night and he was stuck at work.

the burger place was dead quiet. maybe it was the cold snap that had settled over the city, keeping everyone snuggled up in their homes instead of venturing out for greasy fast food. Haechan didn’t mind, really. he was sick of putting on his fake retail voice—“welcome! Fries with that?”—and dealing with people who didn’t say thank you. right now, he was working the closing shift, wearing the stiff black uniform cap and flipping patties that hissed on the flat top grill. the whole place smelled of grilled beef, fryer oil, and cheap pickles. his coworkers were goofing off while mopping the floor and stacking chairs, and haechan, while half-listening to their jokes, was just counting the minutes till he could clock out and go back to bed.

that was when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

unknown number.

haechan hesitated. he barely ever answered unknown numbers, but something in his gut told him to pick up.

“hello?”

“HAECHAN!”

a girl’s voice. loud, panicked. He blinked.

“…who is this?”

“it’s seojung—y/n’s friend. you probably don’t remember me. we met, like, once.”

oh. right. you had sent him the numbers of your friends months ago, just in case. he’d never saved them.

“yeah, uh—what’s up?”

“it’s y/n,” she said quickly.

the emergency button in his brain went off.

“what happened? is she okay?! did something happen to her?”

“well—kind of?”

apparently, you’d gone out for a girls’ night. a little bar in the city downtown. everything was fine, until you’d gotten verydrunk. so drunk, in fact, you couldn’t even hold your head up, slurring nonsense, sobbing into seojung’s shoulder.

haechan grabbed his jacket before she even finished explaining.

“she kept saying… uh, really weird stuff,” seojung added nervously. “like—please don’t be mad, okay?—but she was screaming in the middle of the street that she was gonna die a virgin because her own best friend refused to help her.”

haechan stopped dead in his tracks, blinking in disbelief. “she said what?”

“i know! i was like, girl, stop embarrassing yourself! but she kept going. she even tried to climb on a statue to do a dramatic monologue or something, it was chaos.”

the line went quiet for a second.

“anyway,” seojung continued, “we can’t take her to the dorms—they don’t let us bring people in after curfew, and she’s way too far gone to be alone. you’re the only person she might listen to. can you come get her?”

“i’m on my way,” haechan said without hesitation, already sprinting out the back door. he didn’t even clock out. his coworkers just watched in stunned silence as he bolted into the freezing night air, hoodie half-zipped, hair disheveled, heart pounding.

he didn’t know exactly what he’d find when he got there.

but part of him was already bracing for it.

despite the cold weather, you had decided to wear a short velvet dress, sheer black tights, and an oversized puffer jacket that looked hilariously disproportionate on you—but also kind of cute. haechan blinked twice when he realized the jacket was his. the one he’d been looking for since last week. seeing you in it made his chest do something strange, tight and warm, like a coil winding in his ribs.

you looked disoriented, your makeup slightly smudged, your eyes glassy but still sparkly. your long legs peeked out from under the hem of the dress, knees wobbling as you leaned heavily on seojung for support. Behind her were yeri and jimin—both trying to look casual but clearly avoiding haechan’s gaze.

“sorry for calling so suddenly,” seojung said with an awkward smile, shifting nervously on her feet. “we didn’t know who else to call…”

“she just kept saying your name,” yeri added, crossing her arms.

“she’s been�� emotional,” jimin muttered, eyes darting to the side. “also—sorry for… earlier stuff.”

the three girls looked anywhere but at haechan. there was something stiff in the air, a subtle frost behind their polite words. they knew what had happened. they knew he’d rejected you.

“thanks for looking after her,” haechan said simply, ignoring the tension as he gently took your arm. you mumbled something about “fuck friendship” and “i’ll die a virgin anyway,” making all three girls wince in embarrassment.

after quick goodbyes, they left hurriedly. haechan helped you into a cab, the inside warm and dimly lit, smelling faintly of peppermint and old leather.

“address?” the driver asked.

haechan rattled it off. the driver glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled.

“cute couple,” he said.

“oh—we’re not—” haechan began, but the man cut him off.

“young love. must be nice,” he chuckled. “leaving work in the middle of your shift to take care of your drunk girlfriend. that’s real devotion, son.”

haechan opened his mouth to correct him again, but then—

“HE REJECTED ME!” you suddenly shouted, head lolling dramatically to the side. “I asked him to have sex with me and he SAID NO.”

yhe cab fell into a stunned silence.

“…ah,” the driver finally said. “one-sided love, then.”

haechan wanted to crawl out of the moving car and disappear into the road. yhe driver shook his head sympathetically.

“you’re making a mistake, boy,” he said gravely. “a pretty lady like this? she won’t wait forever. you two already look like a couple. all that’s missing is the kiss.”

haechan glanced down at you, now slumped against his side, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. your makeup was a mess, your breath reeked of gin and lime, and you were clutching the hem of his jacket like it was your last lifeline.

and somehow, even like this, you looked heartbreakingly beautiful.

haechan stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver, the man's words echoing in his head like a song stuck on repeat. “you’re letting a good girl slip away…” he shouldn’t care what some stranger thought, but there was something about the way the guy said it — confident, certain — that made the sentence stick like honey to the roof of his mouth.

he turned around just in time to see you stepping out of the cab in your short dress, sheer tights hugging your legs, and a massive oversized jacket drowning your frame. his oversized jacket.

his breath caught a little. you looked both sexy and soft — long, graceful legs out in the cold, but your face flushed from alcohol and framed by the collar of his jacket. somehow, even in that state, you looked... perfect.

“you know where we are, right?” he asked gently, offering you his hand.

you nodded lazily, squinting at the familiar entrance of your apartment complex. but instead of walking toward it, you turned to him, a sly, sleepy smile playing on your lips.

“i don’t wanna go to my apartment,” you said, voice low and vaguely suggestive.

haechan blinked. “you need to sleep. you’re drunk.”

“i don’t wanna go to my apartment,” you repeated, this time slower, like you were daring him to challenge you. “i lost my keys.”

“you what?” his voice cracked as he stared at you in disbelief. “where the hell are you gonna sleep then?”

you tilted your head, your eyes glinting under the streetlight. “with you.”

silence.

haechan’s mouth opened slightly, the color rushing to his face like fire. he stammered, trying to find the words — to remind you of your promise, of how you said you'd drop this whole thing and start over.

but before he could say a word, you leaned forward with a groan and threw up directly into a nearby bush.

“oh, shit—” he muttered, rushing to hold you. he gathered your hair, gently rubbed your back, whispering reassurances under his breath. “okay, okay, it’s fine… just let it out…”

eventually, you straightened up, eyes glassy, cheeks damp from the cold wind. he sighed and wrapped an arm around you, leading you toward his place — your weight half-slumped against him.

inside, the warmth of his small apartment wrapped around you both. he carefully sat you on the couch and disappeared into the kitchen, filling a glass of water and setting a tea kettle on the stove.

you watched him in silence for a moment before breaking it. “i know what i said,” you murmured. “About letting it go. About forgetting. but i can’t. i literally can’t.”

he froze, slowly turning toward you.

“i feel like a hormonal teenager,” you laughed bitterly, wiping your mouth. “I keep thinking about you. about what i asked you. about what it would be like.”

“y/n…” he warned gently, setting the water beside you.

“i have this thing,” you blurted. “with my sunbae. jung jaehyun. he’s… god, he’s stupidly hot. tall, broad shoulders, perfect hair, every girl wants him. he only sleeps with older women — the kind who know what they’re doing. and I just… i don’t want to disappoint him.”

haechan’s expression darkened, not with anger, but something deeper. “so you wanted to use me as practice?” he asked, voice low.

“i’m not trying to use you,” you said, firm but vulnerable. “you’re my best friend. i trust you more than anyone. and you’re… you’re good at it.”

haechan blinked. “what?”

“you’re good in bed.”

he narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. “and how the hell do you know that?”

you gave a half-smirk. “you talk about it all the time, remember? bragging about your conquests like a walking NSFW podcast. you made it sound like you practically invented foreplay.”

haechan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “god, I was joking half the time—”

“but that’s exactly why i asked you in the first place,” you cut in, locking eyes with him. “because there’s no one else i’d trust for something like this. and let’s be honest—” you tilted your head with a teasing smile. “it’s not like you’ve gotten laid recently either.”

his jaw tensed. “i’m not desperate for sex, y/n.”

“oh, really?” you raised an eyebrow. “so those midnight jerk-off sessions because of your dreams about me are just… what? a new coping mechanism?”

his face burned red. “how do you—?!”

“i may have heard a little something.” you sipped your water dramatically. “you’re not as quiet as you think.”

“i hate you,” he muttered under his breath, turning away to hide the growing smirk on his lips.

“no, you don’t.”

you stood up slowly, unsteady but serious, your eyes fixed on his. “if we did this… it would be safe. familiar. no weirdness. just… two people helping each other out.”

“that’s not what this is about for you though, is it?” he said, voice low.

you looked away for a moment before answering. “no. It’s not just that. i want to feel… wanted. i want to be good at this. and yeah… I want to impress jaehyun. but i also… want it to be with someone who won’t hurt me.”

and for a moment, everything was quiet. the only sound was the water boiling and both your hearts pounding.

he exhaled sharply, frustrated — but not just at you. At himself. At this whole ridiculous night.

then, haechan stepped closer.

he leaned over, hands gripping the back of the couch, caging you in — his face mere inches from yours. you froze. Your breath hitched. your fingers clenched around the glass.

then, without thinking, you kissed him.

it was messy. desperate. tasting of beer and heat and something reckless.

he kissed you back — just for a second — his hand cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. but then he pulled away suddenly, breath heavy, pupils blown wide.

“you’re drunk,” he said, voice hoarse. “i'm not kissing you like this.”

you blinked up at him, breathless.

“but if i weren’t?” you whispered.

he didn’t say anything.

but the fire in his eyes gave you all the answer you needed.

and that silence? it was louder than anything either of you had said all night.

that night, haechan slept on the couch, buried under a mess of blankets. you, on the other hand, took his bed — warm with freshly changed sheets and a white oversized t-shirt that smelled like him. he’d also lent you a hoodie for the cold, soft and worn from use.

when he asked if you'd prefer to sleep with the door shut for privacy, you shook your head and left it cracked open. Just slightly. maybe it was a silent invitation. maybe a part of you hoped he'd come in.

but he didn’t.

haechan's self-control was ironclad. he wouldn't touch you — not like that, not when you were drunk, no matter how much you asked. and you had asked. desperately.

by morning, your head throbbed with a brutal hangover. the light leaking through the blinds was cruel and unforgiving. still half-asleep, you blinked at the side table — a glass of water and a neatly placed pill waited for you. of course he remembered.

you padded out into the living room, barefoot, limbs aching. the smell of warm broth hit you first. then the quiet hum of a streamer's voice coming from his computer.

haechan sat hunched at the small dining table, glasses perched on his nose, hair slightly tousled from sleep. he was watching some gaming livestream, lazily slurping noodles from a bowl of ramen. a small pot sat between you, steam still curling up, and beside it — another bowl.

you noticed the sausage in the pot had been sliced perfectly small, just the way you liked. he always remembered little things like that.

your stomach twisted, not with hunger, but something softer. deeper.

without saying anything, haechan patted the seat beside him. you moved toward him slowly, like you were walking through a dream. he didn’t look at you — just kept his eyes on the screen as he grabbed the second bowl, carefully ladling ramen into it while glancing back and forth between the pot and your bowl to avoid making a mess.

you let out a quiet, involuntary giggle.

he glanced up at you then — his lips curved ever so slightly. and that's when you noticed it: his thick-rimmed glasses. the ones he only wore when he was deep into gaming or editing something late at night. they made him look effortlessly cool. casual. comfortable.

and stupidly handsome.

“thanks,” you murmured, your voice still hoarse from sleep and dehydration. “for… last night. picking me up.”

he didn’t respond at first — just nodded once, still watching the screen. no mention of the kiss. no mention of your drunken confession. nothing. just silence.

the elephant between you had never been bigger.

you glanced sideways again and noticed the dark circles under his eyes — deep and tired. he’d barely slept.

“you okay?” you asked gently.

“i’m fine,” he said, pushing up his glasses with a knuckle. “you had it worse.”

you looked down at the bowl in front of you, steam rising like it was trying to fill the silence. you slurped a noodle quietly, chewing.

that’s when you noticed something else.

the shape of his jaw as he ate — sharp, cut like stone under soft skin. you’d seen him eat ramen a hundred times, but this was the first time you really looked. the way his throat moved when he swallowed. the subtle flex of his neck. his collarbone peeking from under his hoodie. even the slope of his nose and the way his glasses rested perfectly above his cheekbones.

he wasn’t just your best friend. he was… really attractive.

painfully so.

and that realization made your stomach clench — not from the hangover, but from something dangerously close to want.

you sat there, fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic of the ramen bowl, the heat grounding you as your mind spun.

“hey…” your voice came out soft, hesitant. “about last night—”

the sound of his chopsticks hitting the table made you jump. it wasn’t loud, but it was enough. enough to cut through the quiet and slice the conversation before it could begin.

haechan didn’t look at you. his jaw tensed as he stared at the table, hands clenched loosely on either side of his bowl.

you froze. unsure.

he inhaled through his nose, controlled, calculated. then, finally, he spoke. “if you’re done eating… maybe you should call a locksmith. for your apartment.”

your stomach dropped.

just like that, the warmth left the room. or maybe it was still there, but it couldn’t reach you anymore.

“o-oh.” you blinked. “yeah… right. my keys.”

he stood up slowly, not rushed, just… distant. like something inside him had gone cold.

you watched him close the laptop screen with one hand, then gather his bowl and yours, moving with quiet efficiency. not meeting your gaze once.

you couldn’t move. couldn’t speak. the shift was too sharp, too sudden. it left you sitting there like a statue, hands still wrapped around the now lukewarm bowl.

“i’ll wash these,” he muttered, almost to himself.

you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. your throat was tight, words caught somewhere between confusion and guilt. you hadn’t meant to ruin the morning. hadn’t meant to push.

but there it was again — the elephant. bigger than ever.

and this time, haechan had chosen to turn his back on it.

you stood up slowly, the chair scraping against the floor. he was already at the sink, rinsing the dishes like it was any other sunday. like nothing happened. like you hadn’t kissed him. like you hadn’t confessed the things that had been burning you from the inside out.

but your eyes were stuck on his back. the slope of his shoulders. the way his hoodie clung slightly at the waist. and still — that feeling. that gnawing ache deep in your chest.

he was right there. and still, he felt so far away.

“haechan…” your voice barely carried.

he didn’t turn around.

you bit your lip. hard. maybe you had crossed a line. maybe he was just being kind last night, and you mistook it for something else. maybe—

“i need to shower,” he said abruptly, setting the last plate down. “you can use my phone to call someone.”

and then he was gone, the bathroom door closing with a click that echoed too loudly in the silence he left behind.

you were alone again.

but this time, it hurt more than it should’ve.

your phone was still dead.

you hadn’t charged it since last night, and at this point, it didn’t matter. you weren’t exactly in the mood to speak to anyone else anyway.

you curled up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest, arms wrapping tightly around them like they could somehow protect you from the weight pressing on your chest. you stared blankly ahead, trying to piece together what went wrong.

you hadn’t meant to make things weird. you hadn’t meant to cross a line. and yet… you did. and now, all of it felt like a mistake unraveling at your feet.

you chewed on your lip, eyes unfocused.

was it when you asked to stay with him? or when you told him the truth — that you couldn’t stop thinking about him, that you wanted to learn with him because you trusted him? maybe it was the kiss. that moment, hazy and laced with beer, when you leaned in and felt his lips move against yours. he kissed you back. you were sure of it.

but now… maybe it wasn’t enough. or maybe it was too much.

the sound of the bathroom door opening pulled you from your spiral. you looked up, heart stuttering in your chest.

haechan stepped out, steam drifting behind him in lazy clouds. his black t-shirt clung to his skin slightly, still damp from the shower. his sweatpants sat low on his hips, and around his neck hung a white towel, which he used intermittently to ruffle through his damp, dark hair.

he looked surprised to see you still there.

his expression flattened quickly, going unreadable. “you still haven’t called the locksmith?”

you didn’t answer.

he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, towel dragging with it. “y/n…”

but you were already crying.

your face was turned away, but he saw the tremble in your shoulders, the way your hands gripped tighter around your legs. the soft sound of you trying not to make a sound.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cracking under the weight of your own words. “i ruined everything.”

he went quiet.

“i should’ve never suggested that,” you continued, barely audible. “i didn’t mean to treat you like you’re some— some kind of object. i was just thinking about myself. about what i wanted. and that was selfish. i wasn’t thinking about you.”

he still didn’t move.

“i just—” you swallowed thickly, lifting your head to look at him through blurry eyes. “i wasn’t trying to use you. i swear. i… i just trust you. you’re my best friend. and maybe i took that too far. i just… i feel like i’ve messed everything up.”

you laughed bitterly. “you didn’t even have to say anything. your face this morning said it all.”

for a second, haechan just looked at you. his gaze scanned your face — your tear-stained cheeks, your trembling mouth. the regret swimming in your eyes.

then he sighed and walked closer. dropped the towel onto the coffee table. crouched down in front of you.

“you’re not the only one who’s confused,” he said, voice softer now. “and yeah, maybe last night was messy. maybe we said shit we weren’t supposed to. but… you didn’t ruin anything.”

your breath hitched.

he leaned in, resting a hand gently on your knee.

“you’re not selfish for wanting something. and you’re not using me. i know you.” his voice dropped a bit, more intimate now. “maybe that’s why it’s so hard to pretend it didn’t affect me.”

you blinked. “…what?”

he looked up at you from where he knelt. “you said… kissing could help calm you down. remember?”

your eyes widened.

he tilted his head, a small, careful smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth.

“so… if it helps…” he leaned closer, letting his hand trail up your thigh. “i could kiss you again.”

you stopped breathing.

your lips parted, unsure of what to say. but your body moved before your brain could catch up. you leaned in.

he met you halfway.

this kiss was different. slower. more controlled. still tasting faintly of mint and something warm, like cinnamon from the tea he’d made earlier. his hand cradled your cheek this time, thumb brushing softly beneath your eye.

it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t hungry.

but it burned.

and then he pulled back, just barely.

“but only when you’re sober,” he whispered against your lips, breath warm. “only when you really mean it.”

you nodded slowly, heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

“okay,” you breathed. “okay.”

and for now — that was enough.

a few weeks passed.

you had finally gotten a replacement set of keys and returned to your apartment. that weekend was a blur of mundane things—scrubbing your bathroom floor until your arms ached, catching up on overdue sketches, finishing the last pages of an assignment you’d been dodging for weeks. you needed the quiet. the stillness. a chance to feel like yourself again.

but even in your own bed, the cold side of the sheets reminded you of that one night you hadn’t slept alone.

the kiss with haechan had, strangely, softened everything between you. the awkwardness melted away like snow on sunlit pavement. now, you were gentler with each other. your laughter came easier. your glances lingered longer. but the elephant—the weight of what that kiss meant—never left. it simply learned to sit quietly in the corner.

on tuesday afternoon, you were leaving the print room when you nearly ran into jaehyun.

"whoa, careful, pretty girl," he said, catching your elbow with a hand that felt way too steady, too confident.

“sorry,” you chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. jaehyun always looked like he belonged in some magazine spread—jaw carved from stone, lashes too long for someone that smug, silver rings glinting against his fingers like he knew where the light would hit.

“what brings you over here?” he asked, eyeing your sketch tube slung across your shoulder.

“professor cho. needed some stuff for his class. he’s on his power trip again.”

“classic,” he smirked. “listen… we’re having something this friday. low-key. not one of those packed, flyer-in-the-bathroom kind of things. just a curated crowd. people who get it.”

your brow arched. “curated?”

he laughed. “yeah. you know. people with taste.”

you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

“you should come,” he added, stepping a little closer. “might help with that tension you’ve been carrying around.”

“what tension?” you teased.

he leaned in, eyes flicking down your face. “the kind that makes you think too much. sometimes you gotta stop overanalyzing and just feel it.”

“feel what?”

his smile was maddening. “depends who you end up with.”

you laughed it off, but your cheeks were already warm. maybe he was flirting. maybe he wasn’t. either way, the idea sat in your chest like a dare.

you thought about it all the way back to your place. and later that night, lying on your bed staring at the ceiling, you let yourself wonder what it’d be like to… try. to stop guessing what sex felt like and actually find out. you didn’t want to rush it. but you didn’t want to keep floating in uncertainty either.

and somewhere else on campus, haechan couldn’t stop thinking about you either.

he was standing in the backroom of the burger place, mirror fogged with steam, face damp and flushed from another rush. and there you were. again. in his head. like you’d carved a space he couldn’t seal shut.

he felt pathetic.

like some teenage boy discovering self-pleasure for the first time. except it wasn’t discovery—it was addiction. every night, without fail, his body woke him up with a pulse he couldn’t ignore. his hand would slide beneath the waistband of his sweats, his breath shallow, mind full of you. always you.

and god, those lips.

maybe he should’ve never kissed you.

but the second your mouth touched his, something inside him had snapped. like it had been waiting for that moment all along. you’d kissed him with a kind of messy urgency—too fast, too eager, bumping teeth before finding a rhythm. but then came the softness. the unspoken need. the trust. you had tasted like beer and breath mints and something far too intimate for a one-time thing.

now, he couldn’t un-feel it.

behind the counter, he’d zone out mid-shift, hands wet from dishes, and suddenly he’d remember the way you had moaned into his mouth. the way you had gripped his hoodie like you were holding on for dear life. the way your body had melted into his.

he couldn’t stop picturing you in that black dress, jacket slipping off your shoulder, legs crossed like a sin. or the way your lips had parted when you looked at him like you needed more. like you wanted him.

and at night—his room dark, quiet, too warm—he would close his eyes and imagine your thighs on either side of his hips. your voice whispering his name. your nails on his skin.

he used to admire you from a safe place. used to think of you as a friend, maybe even a muse. now? now he couldn’t look at you without imagining what it would be like to bury his face between your legs. to ruin you a little. just enough.

he hated how much he needed it.

he hated how much he missed the feel of your mouth on his.

he hated that he wanted more.

you were stepping out of your digital illustration class, bag slung over your shoulder, neck stiff from hunching over your campaign poster project. when you exited the building, you spotted him right away—haechan, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hands tucked into his backpack straps like he’d been waiting a while.

you always found him there these days.

“hey,” you said, breathless from the stairs. “thanks for waiting. again.”

he gave a casual shrug. “you make it sound like i have a life.”

“do you?”

“…not really.”

you both smiled.

as you walked side by side, the sun cast long shadows behind you, painting the concrete in soft amber. you weren’t touching. but it felt like you were. something invisible had always linked you two. lately, though—it tugged harder.

“so,” you said, voice light, “i think i’m gonna go to that party. tomorrow”

he blinked. “jaehyun’s?”

you nodded. “he made it sound... exclusive.”

“and you’re going?”

you smirked at his tone. “might be an opportunity.”

he stiffened beside you. “opportunity for what?”

you gave him a look. “you know what.”

he stopped. “you’re really gonna sleep with him?”

your cheeks flared, heart skipping. “no. it’s not like that. i just… maybe it’s time to try. get some answers.”

you watched his face carefully. saw the way his jaw locked. the way his brows twitched.

“but,” you added softly, “if it happens… it happens.”

and then, bold as ever, you turned to him. “unless you still wanna help me.”

his breath caught.

“we already kissed,” you said, eyes steady on his. “feels like we’ve done half the homework. next part’s sex, right? that’s what comes after. and you—you’re the one who used to brag about how good you were at it.”

he looked like you’d cornered him. because you had.

“remember those nights you’d ramble about girls? ‘her tits are insane’, ‘i’d fold her in a second’—that was you, haechan. your words.”

he swallowed, hard. “i didn’t think you were listening.”

“i always listen to you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “especially when you talk about what you like.”

and then, with a wicked grin: “and let’s be honest. guys lose their minds over tits and ass. that’s not complicated.”

his silence told you everything.

you took one step closer, slow and steady.

“so?” you asked again, quieter now. “are you still willing to help me?”

and he didn’t answer.

not with words.

but you saw it in his eyes—the panic, the desire, the war between instinct and restraint.

you had no idea how long he could keep resisting.

but you were getting closer to finding out.

the night felt quieter than usual when they arrived at your apartment. your didn’t speak. the walk there had been filled with those kinds of silences that don’t necessarily feel awkward, but make you too aware of your own thoughts. you walked a few steps ahead of haechan, and he found himself watching you — the way your fingers twisted nervously, the slight tension in your shoulders, the soft sway of your hair brushing your back. he could tell she was unsure. and if he was being honest, so was he.

he’d never seen you like this before. not really. not in this light. there’d always been this boundary between both of you, this invisible thread that kept everything just on the edge of becoming something else. but lately… it had changed. the way she looked at him lingered a little longer. the way he touched you — in small, passing moments — felt less like habit and more like gravity. and right now, standing in the dim glow of your apartment, he realized just how close you were to crossing that invisible line.

he stands close, but not touching, his gaze fixed on you with a kind of careful intensity that makes your skin warm.

you unlock the door without saying a word, your fingers fumbling slightly. you can feel his eyes on you, not judging, just watching. when you step inside, he follows, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

inside, it’s quiet. you cross the room and sit on the edge of your bed, heart racing.

he doesn’t follow you immediately. Instead, he leans against the wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest, his expression unreadable. you feel his eyes on your back as you drop your keys onto the counter, your breath shaky, heart pacing with something you don’t quite understand but desperately want to. when you finally turn around to face him, he’s already watching you — not with that usual teasing smile, but with something heavier, deeper. something that feels like want.

you turned to face him, eyes uncertain, but there was something else behind them. something softer. something raw. “i want to do it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“still thinking about your plan?” he asks softly, voice calm, like he’s trying not to spook you.

you nod slowly. “i just… i want to be good for jaehyun.”

his jaw tightens just a little, barely noticeable. but his voice doesn’t change. “you’re trying to learn how to please someone else,” he says, stepping closer, “when you haven’t even taken the time to learn yourself.”

you blink, suddenly unsure. “i thought… that’s what you were going to help me with.”

he exhales gently, closing the space between you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. “i will. but only if you let me take the lead. if you trust me completely. no pretending. no rushing. just… you. raw. honest.”

your breath catches in your throat. something about the way he says it, the quiet authority in his tone, the way he looks at you like he already knows your body better than you do — it makes you ache in places you’ve barely dared to explore on your own.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “i’ll do whatever you say.”

his eyes soften. there’s something unspoken there — a tension that’s been building between you for longer than you realized. and now it’s finally unraveling.

“then take off your clothes,” he says, his voice low, steady. “lie back.”

your fingers feel clumsy, nerves fluttering in your chest as you undress. he doesn’t look away. his gaze follows every inch of skin you reveal like he’s memorizing you. but it never feels invasive. it feels… reverent. when you’re finally bare, you lie down, body exposed, unsure, vulnerable. he doesn’t move right away. he just watches, like he’s waiting for you to fully settle into the moment.

“you’re beautiful,” he says quietly. “but i’m not going to touch you until i see that you believe it, too.”

you want to believe it. you want to feel beautiful in your own skin, not just because someone else says it, but because something inside you says you deserve to be. but right now, all you feel is nervous. exposed. seen.

he kneels at the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. “you’re safe,” he murmurs. “you’re in control. i’m just guiding you.”

his hand touches your thigh, light as air, and your breath stutters. the warmth of his palm spreads through you like liquid, grounding and electric all at once. he doesn’t rush. his fingers explore slowly, tracing the curve of your hip, the softness of your stomach, the inside of your thigh. each touch is a question, and your breath is the answer.

when his fingers finally find you, you gasp — not because it’s too much, but because it’s perfect. just enough. just right. he doesn’t push, doesn’t demand. he simply explores, watching every reaction, every shift of your hips, every shaky breath you take like it’s the only thing that matters.

his fingers finally reach where you need them, but he doesn’t go straight for it — no, he teases, tracing along the outer edge of your heat, making you gasp at the sudden jolt of electricity. your hips shift instinctively, seeking friction, but his free hand presses gently against your stomach, grounding you.

“easy,” he murmurs. “we’re not rushing. i want to feel every part of you fall apart.”

your head tips back against the pillow, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers finally slip between your folds — gentle at first, just enough pressure to make your toes curl. he exhales softly, as if the heat of you surprises even him.

“relax,” he whispers. “feel. don’t think about what’s next. just stay with me. here.”

his fingers stroke you with a patience you didn’t know could exist, learning your body like it’s a language only he can understand. you’re wet, embarrassingly so, and he seems to revel in it, the way your body responds to his touch. he circles your clit with slow, practiced motions, his thumb brushing over you with maddening precision. you’re moaning now, soft and quiet, not even realizing the sounds are yours.

“fuck,” he whispers. “you’re soaked.”

your cheeks flush, but any embarrassment is quickly replaced by want as he finds your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that make your legs tremble.

you whimper his name, voice barely there, and his response is a low groan against your skin. “that’s it, baby. let me hear you.”

his mouth is everywhere now — at your neck, your chest, sucking marks into your skin like he wants to claim you, mark you, make you his. and god, part of you wants it too — wants to be wanted like this, worshipped like this.

his fingers move lower, one pressing gently at your entrance, testing. “you okay?” he asks, voice soft but thick with desire.

“yes,” you gasp, clutching at his wrist. “please.”

your hips begin to move on their own, chasing the rhythm of his fingers. the pressure is building, coiling deep inside your core, unfamiliar and terrifying and addictive. he slips a finger inside you, slow and gentle, curling just right, and you cry out, your body clenching around him without meaning to.

“h-hyuck...” you cried.

“you like that?” he asks, voice rough now, closer to a groan than a whisper. you nod frantically, unable to form words, your hands gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing.

he slides in slow, giving you time to adjust, watching your face the whole time. his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing in time with the slow push of his finger. your breath stutters, and he leans in to kiss you, stealing the sound from your lips.

you moan into his mouth, overwhelmed, undone, as he adds a second finger, the stretch just enough to make your back arch. he curls them just right, finding that spot inside you that makes your thighs shake.

“there it is,” he groans, his lips brushing yours. “fuck, you feel so good.”

you can’t answer. you can barely think. all you can do is feel — the heat building inside you, the pull of release so close you can taste it.

“don’t hold back,” he whispers against your neck. “i want to feel you fall apart for me.”

and when he starts moving faster — fingers pumping deep and sure, thumb pressing harder against your clit — it’s too much. the pressure breaks, crashing over you like a tidal wave. your body tenses, then shatters, crying out his name as you come harder than you ever have before.

he holds you through it, kissing your jaw, your cheek, your lips. his fingers slow but don’t leave you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you’re trembling beneath him, boneless and gasping.

“let go,” he murmurs again, lips brushing against your ear. “don’t hold back. i’ve got you.”

his thumb presses harder against your clit, his fingers moving faster, more deliberate, and the pressure explodes inside you, all at once — a wave crashing over your body with violent tenderness. you cry out, shaking, the world narrowing to nothing but heat and light and the sound of his voice grounding you as your orgasm rips through you.

he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. his breath is ragged, his eyes full of something you don’t quite understand — but you feel it in your chest. raw. intense. real.

“you don’t know what you just did to me,” he whispers, voice hoarse.

your body arches, muscles tightening, breath gone, and everything — everything — goes quiet except for the echo of your release.

and when you open your eyes to meet his, you realize something terrifying and beautiful — you don’t think you’ll ever look at him the same again.

your back pressed against the sheets, your skin bare under the dim, golden light of your room, your breath already shaky as haechan settles beside you, fully clothed, fully in control. you should feel nervous, and maybe you do, but it’s buried under something stronger — something warmer. the way he’s looking at you now is enough to make you forget how to breathe.

haechan sits on the edge of your bed, staring at his hand—now clean—like he can’t believe what just happened. his breath is heavier than he wants to admit. his thoughts are scrambled, the feeling of touching you, of showing you something he never thought he’d share, overwhelms him. something inside him burns, something he doesn’t know if it’s frustration or desire, but he feels it with an intensity he can’t control.

when you step out of the shower, your skin still warm from the hot water, he stays there, still. you go through your skincare routine, but every movement seems to echo in him more than it should. the way your fingers brush against your face, the way you move... everything feels different now. he watches in silence, the space between you now thick with something unspoken.

“i didn’t think it would feel like that,” you say softly, breaking the silence. your voice has a tremor you can’t hide. “thank you... for helping me.”

the gesture feels sincere, but there’s something in your eyes that makes him feel exposed. he doesn’t quite understand it. he tells himself it’s fine, that he’s just helping you, that he’s just being there for you. but his body betrays him, his jaw tightens, and his fingers twitch at his side.

“you don’t need to thank me,” he says, his voice quiet, almost too quiet. “you just needed to know yourself. that’s all.”

you pause, pressing moisturizer into your skin, still feeling that soft hum in your body, a low buzz you can’t seem to shake off. it’s from what happened, but you try to tell yourself it’s just the adrenaline, just nerves. nothing more.

“i think i can handle things now,” you reply, keeping your eyes on your reflection in the mirror. “maybe tomorrow at the party... i’ll kiss jaehyun, just see how it goes. no pressure. i don’t want to rush.”

the moment the words leave your mouth, you feel it—the way the air shifts between you two. you don’t mean to look at haechan when you say jaehyun’s name, but you do. and his eyes flicker for just a second, something hard behind them that he quickly hides. he doesn’t react out loud, but his shoulders stiffen, his mouth pressing into a tight line.

“yeah,” he says, his voice controlled, but you can hear the tightness underneath. “sounds like a good idea. you deserve to figure out what you want.”

you smile, trying to lighten the mood, but something in you catches as you look at him. you feel like you’ve said the wrong thing, but you’re not sure why. haechan doesn’t look at you anymore. he stares at the floor, his jaw working like he’s holding something back.

he doesn’t let himself show it. he can’t. you’re his best friend, and he promised to help you, to guide you, not to get caught up in his own feelings. but with every word you speak, with every step you take toward jaehyun, something deep inside him twists.

he’s tasted something he shouldn’t want. and now, the thought of you with someone else—even someone you love—is unbearable.

still, he says nothing. he can’t. because he promised to help you discover yourself, not to confuse you more.

even if every part of him wants to be the only one who gets to touch you like that again.

friday came faster than expected, slipping through the cracks of your week like it had been waiting for you. unlike the other days, this one was bitterly cold—the kind of cold that crept into your sleeves and curled around your spine. haechan had texted you earlier, his usual playful tone dulled by exhaustion. "today i actually have to close, so i’ll be stuck at work late," he wrote, followed by a yawning emoji and a tired little heart. you stared at the message longer than you should’ve, feeling something heavy settle in your chest.

the cold winter air bites at your legs as you step out of the cab, your breath fogging in front of you in soft clouds. the house isn’t just any house—it’s one of the old fraternity houses on the edge of campus, the kind that looks more like a mansion than a place college boys live in. warm light glows from the tall windows, and the low hum of music leaks out from behind the heavy wooden door before it swings open.

jaehyun is already waiting, leaning casually against the doorframe. he looks unfairly good—his hair slightly tousled, a dark turtleneck hugging his figure under a sleek wool coat. he gives you that smile, the one that always makes your stomach twist in ways you’ve never really understood.

“you made it,” he says, stepping aside to let you in.

you settled on a black leather jacket, cropped just above the waist, its silver zippers catching the light every time you moved. underneath, you wore a satin navy blouse, soft and loose, with a deep neckline that hinted without revealing too much. your high-waisted dark jeans hugged your figure just right, paired with heeled ankle boots that clicked confidently against the pavement. a silk scarf, deep burgundy, wrapped around your neck—not just for warmth, but as a finishing touch. your hair was pulled back loosely, tendrils framing your face, and your makeup was soft but sharp—dark liner, flushed cheeks, and a deep berry gloss that caught the chill in the air.

you notice jaehyun’s gaze drop, lingering for a beat too long before he leads you inside.

the party isn’t crowded—maybe twenty people, maybe less. it’s quiet in that expensive kind of way: muted music, low lighting, golden liquor sloshing in crystal glasses. there’s laughter and whispers, but nothing too wild. you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow it feels more intimate than you’d prepared for.

after your second drink, the room gets a little warmer. the vodka-orange is stronger than you thought, but it burns in a good way. you’re not drunk, not like that night, but the edges of your thoughts are softer, looser.

the music is barely audible now, just a low pulse behind your ribs as jaehyun leans in. it happens the way you always imagined it would—with the warmth of alcohol in your veins, the subtle tension in the air, his breath fanning softly against your cheek as his lips finally meet yours.

at first, it’s cinematic.

his hand is at your waist, careful but firm. his lips, smooth and slow, move against yours like he’s done this a thousand times. his cologne is rich—something expensive and clean, like bergamot and wood.

“you look incredible tonight,” he murmurs, voice low. It’s not the first time he’s flirted with you, but tonight it feels more focused.

you laugh lightly, sipping again. “you say that to every girl you invite to one of these,” you tease.

he smirks. “i don’t. just the ones i hope will stay after everyone else leaves.”

that catches you off guard. there’s a pause, the kind that’s heavy with implication. you don’t answer right away. instead, you tilt your head, watching him through the haze of dim lights and liquor.

more intentional. you close your eyes, willing your heart to speed up, your stomach to twist, your knees to weaken.

but none of it happens.

instead, there’s a slow, creeping emptiness that settles over your skin. you taste the sharp tang of beer on his tongue—bitter and stale—and it dulls the moment like a film of dust on something once shiny. it’s not that he’s doing anything wrong. in fact, he’s doing everything right. and maybe that’s the problem. it’s all too perfect. too rehearsed. too... lifeless.

you keep your lips against his a second longer, maybe two, hoping that if you just try, the magic will follow.

but it doesn’t.

what started as something dreamlike begins to dissolve, unraveling into something flat. weightless. forgettable. like kissing a statue—beautiful, yes, but cold. you feel your body slowly disconnect, like your mind is pulling away, shrinking back into itself. you’re kissing jaehyun. jaehyun. tall, broad-shouldered, silver-tongued. the guy every girl fantasizes about.

and yet... nothing.

when you pull away, you do it gently, trying not to show the disappointment pressing against your chest like a bruise. he looks at you with those deep, unreadable eyes, but you can’t meet them for long. something in you already knows: this isn’t what you wanted. maybe it never was.

and then, like clockwork, your thoughts betray you.

because in the silence that follows, in that stretch of breathless stillness, a name rises uninvited in your mind.

haechan.

you blink, shaken by the immediacy of it. why him, of all people? but it doesn’t stop. your mind floods with him, with everything he is and isn’t. jaehyun is all sharp lines and polished edges. he’s winter: sleek and cold, dressed in cashmere and shadows. and haechan...

haechan is sun-warmed skin and mischievous smiles. he’s a burst of color in a black-and-white room. his skin is golden, kissed by sun even in december. you remember the first time he wore glasses in class—how suddenly he looked different. not in a new way, but like you were finally seeing something that had been there all along. it had startled you. he looked good. really good. and you’d stared a little longer than you meant to.

you think about how he always cradles that old gaming console on his lap during breaks, fingers dancing over buttons like it's second nature. how he talks about characters and plots with the same intensity people reserve for politics or love. how he orders black coffee like it's a religion, never anything sweet. how he complains about the cold like it's a personal offense—bundling up in layers and still shivering, nose pink, eyes watery, grumbling but cute.

and you remember something else.

the way his eyes light up when he talks about music. not just any music—he’s always been drawn to layered melodies, harmonies that build slowly, that sneak up on you. you’d caught him once, eyes closed, headphones in, mouthing the words to a song you didn’t recognize. something soft and slow. when you asked what it was, he smiled, kind of shy, and said, “it’s this track i found—it builds so gently, but when it hits, it hits. it makes you feel everything, you know?”

you didn’t then. but now, maybe you do.

because that’s what haechan is like. he builds slowly. gently. he makes you feel everything without trying. without asking. just by being.

you think back to his kiss—that moment in the quiet of his room, when the world felt too small and too loud all at once. his lips weren’t smooth or calculated. they were warm. real. tasting faintly of coffee and breath mints, of nervousness and care. his hands weren’t firm—they trembled just a little. like he wasn’t sure, but he wanted to be. and that kiss? it burned. it lingered. it left something behind in your chest, something heavy and aching.

jaehyun’s kiss, in comparison, feels like water evaporating before it ever touches your skin.

“i need some air,” you say, barely loud enough to hear over the music.

you step away from the kitchen, your hands shaking slightly—not from cold, but from clarity. it’s unsettling, how fast something can shift. how a fantasy can collapse in on itself the moment reality arrives.

you walk toward the front door, ignoring jaehyun’s curious glance. and as the winter air hits your cheeks again, sharp and sobering, you realize the only thing you want right now is warmth.

and the only person who’s ever made you feel it... is haechan.

you step outside, the cold air biting at your cheeks like reality trying to sober you up. it’s quiet out here, except for the faint music pulsing through the windows behind you and the distant sound of traffic. your lips still taste faintly of beer and disappointment, and you try not to let it show on your face—even if there’s no one around to see.

you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering slightly. not just from the cold, but from the feeling growing in your chest. a hollow ache that started the moment jaehyun pulled away and left you with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of something that should’ve felt magical. it was supposed to mean something. you’d wanted it to. for weeks—months even—you thought that maybe this was what you needed. something new. something exciting.

but standing there in the dark, with the wind tugging gently at your coat, all you can think about is how wrong it felt.

how empty.

you sigh and glance down at your phone. 11:45 p.m. haechan probably just got home not long ago—he said he’d be working late tonight, and you remember the slight frown he gave you when you mentioned the party. not because he disapproved. but because he wouldn’t be there.

you hesitate, thumb hovering over his contact. calling him now would make you look ridiculous, wouldn’t it? but god… you need someone. someone who knows you, who doesn’t expect you to be dazzling or mysterious or anything other than exactly who you are.

before you can overthink it again, your thumb presses “call.”

the line barely rings twice before his voice comes through, groggy but alert, like he hadn’t really been asleep yet.

"y/n?" his voice is a little breathless, alarmed. "are you okay?"

you don’t answer right away. the sound of his voice cracks something open inside you. your throat tightens, and your eyes sting, a rush of heat behind your lashes. the words won’t come, caught somewhere between your tongue and your heart.

"hey, talk to me. what happened?"

his concern hits you like a wave. not because of what he’s saying, but how he’s saying it. gently. urgently. like nothing else in the world matters except you right now. like your silence is enough to make his chest hurt.

you swallow thickly, finally managing to breathe, “i… i didn’t know who else to call.”

he exhales slowly, like he’s relieved to hear your voice, even if it’s shaky. “i’m glad you called me.”

and it’s so stupid—so fucking stupid—but that’s when the tears come. silently at first, then all at once. and still, haechan says nothing. just waits, gives you space to fall apart without asking for an explanation.

he always does that. always shows up, always makes you feel like you’re not too much, even when you’re too much for yourself.

and suddenly you realize something—not like a lightning bolt, but like a quiet click, something that was always there, waiting to be noticed. it was never about jaehyun. not really. it was the idea of him. and now, with that illusion shattered, you’re left with the one person who’s been real all along.

the one who always answers the phone. the one who remembers how you take your coffee. the one who listens when you talk about your art for hours and never pretends to be bored.

“can you…” your voice is small, choked, “can you come get me?”

“already on my way,” he says without hesitation.

and just like that, you feel less alone. maybe not okay, not yet—but safe.

safe in the way only he ever made you feel.

you step back into the warmth of the house, wiping your cheeks and pretending the cold air is the only reason your eyes are red. inside, the party hasn’t changed at all—music still pulsing, people still dancing, someone already passed out on a couch. it feels like you left the chaos and walked right back into it, except now it doesn't swallow you whole. now, you’re just… drifting.

you spot jaehyun near the kitchen, leaning against the counter, lazily scrolling through his phone. he doesn’t look up at first, but when he does, his eyes land on you immediately. he straightens, sliding the phone into his back pocket before making his way toward you.

your stomach knots—not because you're afraid, but because you’re not sure what you're supposed to say to the guy you just kissed and then immediately ran away from.

before he even opens his mouth, you raise a hand slightly, your words tumbling out faster than you can stop them.

“i—i’m sorry. i just… i think i was really into the idea of you. like, really into it. but tonight i realized maybe… i don’t know…”

you trail off, eyes dropping to the floor, suddenly very interested in the scuff marks on your boots.

jaehyun quirks a brow, and for a second, it’s awkwardly silent—but then he lets out a soft laugh. it’s not cruel, not mocking. just… amused.

“you know,” he says, arms crossing over his chest, “when we first started talking, i thought you and that guy donghyuck?—were together. like, definitely together.”

you blink, lifting your head. “what?”

“yeah,” he shrugs. “you’d always come to class with him. always laughing, always close. and the way he looked at you? i figured i didn’t stand a chance. but then i saw you alone for a few days, and thought maybe you broke up or something, so…” he gestures vaguely. “i shot my shot.”

you feel your cheeks heat up instantly. “we’re not… he’s not my boyfriend. we never dated.”

jaehyun smirks like he doesn’t believe you, but also like he knows better than to argue. “sure. maybe not technically. but come on.” he leans in slightly, lowering his voice. “you really think there’s nothing going on there?”

you start to protest, but then stop. because he’s not wrong, and you’re too tired to lie—to him or to yourself.

“it’s complicated,” you mutter.

he smiles again, this time softer, more genuine. “well, if it helps… i’m not offended. not at all. i mean, you’re sweet, and you kiss okay—”

“okay?” you gasp, half-laughing, half-horrified.

“hey,” he chuckles, holding up his hands, “it was a mutual ‘meh,’ right?”

you both burst out laughing, the tension finally breaking like a balloon popped with a pin. for the first time that night, you feel lighter.

“i really thought i liked you,” you admit.

“you probably did,” he shrugs. “or… the idea of me.”

“yeah.”

jaehyun gives you a wink. “for what it’s worth, i think you and haechan are cute as hell. even if you don’t know it yet.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. a real, unforced smile.

“thanks,” you say quietly.

“anytime,” he replies, already turning toward the kitchen again. “just… don’t let that one go, alright?”

and as you watch him disappear into the crowd, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

on my way. almost there.

you press your lips together, the ghost of a smile still there.

maybe you didn’t come to this party to kiss jaehyun after all. maybe you came to realize who you should’ve been calling all along.

the cold bites harder now. you’re standing outside again, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves, your phone clutched tight in your hand. every passing second feels like it’s stretching eternity, but then—you spot him. haechan walks up the sidewalk.

haechan was wearing sweatpants, mismatched socks stuffed into crocs, and a hoodie that’s too big even for him. his hair is a mess, fluffed and wild like he just rolled out of bed—and he probably did. you freeze, heart caught in your throat, as he blinks at you sleepily, rubbing at one eye with the heel of his palm.

you stare at him—at the boy who still showed up, in the dead of night, after a long shift, just because you needed him. and something inside you swells so big, so full, it spills over before you can contain it.

you don’t think—you run.

you crash into him with a force that makes him stumble half a step back, arms instantly wrapping around you, warm and steady. he doesn’t say anything. he just holds you, one hand coming up to stroke your hair gently, his breath warm against your temple.

you press your face into his neck, breathing him in—coffee, fabric softener, something so haechan. your chest heaves, and your eyes sting again.

when he pulls you into his embrace, it feels like the weight of the world finally lifts from your chest. his touch is soft, his fingers brushing against your skin in the most familiar way, like he’s always been there, always meant to be there.

he sighs softly, tugging you closer like he’s scared you’ll slip away. “seriously… what’s wrong with you lately?” he murmurs, voice groggy, laced with concern. “why are you acting like such a crybaby, huh?”

you lift your head, blinking up at him through the tears that won’t stop pooling. your eyes meet his—those deep, sleepy eyes that always seem to see too much—and your lips part as if to answer, but no words come.

so instead, you kiss him.

you pull him down by the collar of his hoodie and press your mouth to his with all the confusion, all the ache, all the longing you’ve buried for far too long. his lips are warm, soft, and as soon as he realizes what’s happening, he kisses you back.

and then, when you press your lips to his, it’s like every other kiss you’ve had fades away into nothingness. the world around you dissolves, and all that remains is the sensation of him. it’s pure, it’s grounding—everything that jaehyun’s kiss wasn’t.

he doesn’t ask questions. he doesn’t stop you. he just holds you tighter, like he’s afraid this moment might shatter.

his hand cradles your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing under your eye, and the kiss deepens—not rushed, not clumsy, just real. like he’s trying to tell you all the things neither of you ever dared to say.

your fingers curl into his hoodie as you pour everything into the kiss—your gratitude, your fear, your guilt, your truth.

it feels like you're being purified, as if every trace of doubt, of confusion, of disappointment, is being washed away by the intensity of haechan’s presence. there’s no bitterness, no strange aftertaste—only him, only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as you lose yourself in him. with each second, you realize just how much you’ve longed for this, how much you’ve needed him, even when you didn’t know it. this, this is what real intimacy feels like, and it’s everything you never knew you were missing.

the walk to haechan’s apartment felt different. the night air was biting, and the cold seemed to press against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat that was bubbling in your chest. you didn’t want to be here, not tonight, not after everything that had just happened. but here you were, once again, losing yourself in the warmth of his presence.

“lost your keys again?” haechan asked, his voice playful but with a hint of concern in his eyes as he stepped aside to let you into his apartment. you gave him a sheepish smile, pretending to fumble with your bag and looking down, avoiding his gaze.

“yeah, I’m such a mess,” you murmured, but your words felt hollow, like they were slipping through your fingers as quickly as the night’s events.

he didn’t say anything more, but the slight furrow of his brow told you he was paying attention. it was a game, a little lie that you used to keep yourself near him just a little longer, but tonight, it felt like more. it felt like you were hiding something from him.

inside his apartment, the quiet enveloped you like a blanket, and for a moment, it felt like everything was still. you sat on the couch next to him, the tension between you thickening by the second. it was always easy to talk to him, but tonight, the words felt like they were stuck in your throat. and you knew why—because the taste of jaehyun’s kiss was still fresh on your lips, and it made you sick to your stomach.

“what happened?” haechan’s voice cut through the silence, and you could see it in his eyes: that flicker of concern. he knew something was wrong, and you could feel his gaze on you, waiting for the truth.

you let out a breath, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “jaehyun... I kissed him.”

he stiffened beside you, his body tensing. you didn’t have to look at him to know the change in his expression. it was there in the way his muscles locked up, in the way he barely moved, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the words.

"what? you kissed him?" he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. "good for you, I guess..."

the final sentence hit you like a punch to the gut, but you couldn’t stop now. it was too late to take it back, and the confession felt like it was clawing its way out.

"it wasn’t what I expected," you whispered, avoiding his gaze as your stomach twisted. "it was... bad. it didn’t feel right. at all."

haechan’s hand clenched into a fist, his face hardening, but there was something more in his eyes now—something you hadn’t expected. jealousy. confusion. it was almost as if he wanted to say something but was holding it back. you felt the heat rise in your chest, your own guilt gnawing at you.

"wait—what?" haechan leaned forward, his voice suddenly sharp, though his face was tight with barely-contained emotion. "it was... bad? after all that?"

you nodded slowly, your throat tight as you continued, “yeah. it wasn’t what I thought it would be. there was no passion, no spark. the taste of beer... it was all I could focus on, and I hated it. I... I just couldn’t feel anything.”

the silence that followed felt thick, suffocating. you could see the storm brewing in his eyes. he wasn’t angry—at least, not completely—but he was something else. hurt, maybe? or disappointment? you couldn’t tell.

"so, that’s it then?" his voice was quieter now, the sharpness fading into something softer, more contemplative. “your feelings for him are... gone?”

"yeah," you admitted, finally meeting his gaze, feeling the truth weigh on your shoulders. "they’re gone. I don’t want him anymore. I don’t even want to kiss him again."

the words hung in the air, and you waited for him to respond, your heart racing, unsure of what he would say. when he finally spoke, it wasn’t what you expected.

“you know,” he started, his voice light, almost teasing, “i never liked the idea of you with him. not even for a second.”

you blinked, surprised at his admission. “you didn’t?”

“no,” he said, the edge of his smile almost teasing, though there was something else behind it. “I always thought you deserved someone who wasn’t... like him.”

you frowned, still processing what he was saying, but before you could respond, he continued.

“but now i get it. i see why you would be disappointed. he’s not... him,” haechan said, his voice lowering, the underlying sadness creeping in. "i guess i’m just glad you’re realizing it now. even if it took you kissing him to see it."

a chill ran down your spine as you looked at him, unsure of what he meant. your heart tightened with a strange mix of relief and something else—something more complicated that you couldn’t name yet.

“you’re not... mad?” you asked quietly.

“mad?” he repeated, laughing softly, though there was no real humor in it. “no. why would I be mad? I’m just... relieved. you deserve better.”

“so... what now?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

haechan didn’t answer immediately. his eyes lingered on you—soaked in the way your makeup had smudged slightly, how your lips were still a little swollen from that kiss with jaehyun, how your dress had ridden up your thighs from the car ride. he swallowed hard, jaw clenched like he was fighting the urge to say something reckless.

then he said it anyway.

“now i take care of you.”

your breath hitched.

he stepped closer. slowly. deliberately. the kind of approach that made your knees weak. the kind of approach that said he knew exactly what you needed before you did. his hand reached for your waist, pulling you gently toward him, until your bodies were flush against each other.

“unless you don’t want that,” he murmured against your ear, his lips grazing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. “you tell me to stop, and i will. no questions, no pressure.”

you didn’t say anything. you couldn’t. Instead, you tilted your head and captured his lips in a kiss—needy, messy, full of everything you hadn’t said for weeks.

he groaned into your mouth, hands gripping your hips, grounding you. but he didn’t rush. he kissed you like he had time. like he was savoring the moment he’d waited for far too long.

“haechan…” you breathed when you finally pulled back.

he looked at you, eyes burning.

“yeah, baby?”

your cheeks flushed. “i… want to go further. i trust you.”

he blinked, just once, and something softened in his expression.

“are you sure?” he asked, voice lower now, rougher, but laced with concern. “i need to hear you say it.”

you nodded, fingers brushing his jaw. “i’m sure.”

he kissed you again, slower this time, like a promise. then he scooped you up effortlessly in his arms, carrying you to his bed, the same way he always carried you emotionally—careful, steady, never letting you fall.

he laid you down like you were precious, and then crawled over you, caging you in with his body, forehead pressed to yours.

“tell me if anything feels too much,” he whispered.

you nodded. he reached over to the nightstand, rummaging for a condom, giving you a look that made your stomach flip.

“Prepared?” you teased softly.

he smirked. “baby, i’ve been in love with you since you spilled coffee on my camera. i’ve always been prepared.”

your laugh faded into a gasp as his hands slipped beneath your dress, touching you with reverence, praise pouring from his mouth like it was second nature.

“so fucking perfect,” he murmured, kissing down your neck. “every part of you. mine to take care of. mine to love.”

his fingers teased you through your panties until you were arching, needy and aching, the room filled with the soft, wet sounds of your arousal.

“you’re already this wet for me? fuck—baby, you're killing me.”

you squirmed, overwhelmed by the sensation, but craving more. then you heard the foil tear, and your heart pounded louder.

the moment he entered you was slow, intense, a stretch that bordered on pain and pleasure, but he was right there—kissing your forehead, telling you how beautiful you were, how good you felt, how proud he was of you.

“you’re doing so good,” he groaned. “so fucking tight. you were made for me, weren’t you?”

you nodded desperately, clinging to him.

he moved slow, deep, rolling his hips so you felt every inch of him. his name fell from your lips like a prayer.

one condom turned into two. then three. you couldn’t stop. neither could he.

sweat clung to your skin, tangled sheets beneath you. he had you on top of him at one point, his hands on your hips as you moved, his eyes never leaving your face.

“that’s it, baby. take what you need. fuck—ride me just like that.”

another position had him behind you, one hand gripping your waist, the other slipping between your legs to make you scream his name as your body fell apart.

by the time the fourth wrapper crumpled beside the bed, you were both panting, dazed and desperate.

you rolled onto your back, breathless. “we’re out.”

you reached for your phone, already sitting up. “I can run down to the 7-eleven—”

he stopped you instantly, pressing a hand to your stomach.

“no, baby,” he said, voice firm. “i’ll go. you stay here. let me take care of it.”

the way he said it—so naturally, so possessively—sent a wave of heat straight through you. you bit your lip, something wicked curling inside you.

“or…” you said, voice dripping with mischief. “we could just… try without one.”

he froze. eyes dark. jaw tight.

“don’t tempt me,” he growled.

you crawled into his lap, pressing your lips to his neck.

“what if i want to?” you whispered. “what if i want all of you?”

he exhaled sharply, head falling back. “fuck… you’re dangerous.”

still, he hesitated—until you ground down on him and whispered, “i trust you, haechan.”

that was all it took.

he didn’t say a word for a moment. just stared at you like you’d set him on fire.

then he kissed you—hard. not rushed, but full of hunger, like you’d just pulled the leash off something he’d been holding back for far too long.

you could feel him against you, throbbing and hot, even without anything between you now. your body tingled in anticipation, in fear, in want. you were bare in every way—and he saw you, accepted you, craved you.

he guided you down onto the bed again, positioning himself between your thighs, his hands cupping your face gently.

“if i do this…” he said, voice low and trembling with restraint, “you need to tell me if anything feels wrong. anything at all, baby.”

“it won’t,” you whispered. “i want you. just like this.”

he lined himself up, one hand steadying your hip, the other brushing hair from your face. when he pushed in—slow, careful, deep—your whole body tensed, wrapped around him like he was the first breath after drowning.

it hurt. just a little. enough to make your lips part with a gasp. but he stopped instantly, not moving, just whispering against your cheek.

“breathe for me, sweetheart. you’re doing so fucking good.”

you nodded, clinging to his shoulders, letting yourself relax little by little until your body opened for him.

he began to move—not fast, but deep and fluid, his voice rasping against your ear with every thrust.

“you feel unreal,” he groaned. “so tight. so fucking warm. shit—you're making me lose my mind.”

your nails dug into his back. you couldn’t think. could barely breathe. all you knew was him—his scent, his voice, his body fitting against yours like you were made for this moment.

“does it feel good, baby?” he asked, barely holding it together.

“yes,” you moaned. “it feels so good, haechan.”

he reached between you, his fingers finding that perfect spot again, circling gently as his hips rolled deeper.

“i want you to cum for me,” he whispered, eyes flicking up to the mirror across the room.

and that’s when you saw it too—the reflection.

the sight of yourself, spread out beneath him, his body covering yours, the way his hips rolled into you, slow but relentless, the way your mouth fell open in pleasure.

you locked eyes with him through the mirror.

“look at you,” he said. “so fucking pretty. you should see what i see. you should see what you do to me.”

you whimpered, already close. the feeling of him inside you, the way he praised you, the reflection showing you everything you felt but couldn’t describe—it pushed you right to the edge.

“you’re mine,” he growled, thrusting deeper. “say it.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, back arching.

“again.”

“i’m yours, haechan—fuck—i’m—”

the orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave. your whole body trembled as you clung to him, moaning his name like a confession.

he followed with a deep, broken moan, hips grinding into you as he came, his entire body tensing above yours, the sound of your names and curses filling the air as he spilled inside you, raw and unfiltered.

afterward, he collapsed next to you, pulling you into his chest, kissing your forehead with trembling lips.

“i’ve never felt anything like that,” he whispered.

you couldn’t answer. your body was still shaking, your mind a mess of stars and heat.

he held you close, running his fingers up and down your spine.

and for a long time, neither of you spoke.

because nothing needed to be said.

haechan stood by the door, shirtless, hair messy, pulling on his sweatpants with a crooked grin on his face.

“be right back,” he said, grabbing his keys. “we are out of condoms.”

your heart jumped at how casually he said it. like he already knew you weren’t done. like he couldn’t wait to get his hands back on you.

“don’t be long,” you said, your voice a little hoarse, a little needy.

“i’ll run,” he smirked, and you believed him.

the moment the door closed behind him, your body buzzed with anticipation. you felt sore, satisfied… and yet completely empty without him there.

a little while later, you were curled up on his couch wearing nothing but his oversized hoodie, legs tucked under you, sipping water with your thighs still trembling from everything he just made you feel.

your mind ran wild imagining all the things he’d do when he got back.

and oh—he did.

he came back ten minutes later, breathless and grinning, holding a bag with the corner of a box peeking out.

“miss me?” he teased.

“shut up,” you mumbled, biting your lip as he approached you on the couch.

but he didn’t give you time to banter. his mouth was on yours again, hungry and hot, hands already sliding under the hoodie like he’d been starving the whole way back.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he growled into your ear, lips dragging down your neck. “every fucking step i ran, i was thinking about how wet you were. how tight. how you said my name when you came.”

you whimpered, legs parting automatically as he knelt between them on the couch.

but this time—he was different. rougher. more commanding. his eyes darker.

“get up,” he whispered, pulling you to your feet.

“where are we—?”

“shower,” he said. “now.”

you didn’t argue.

the water hit your skin like a shock, but his body was hotter. he pressed you up against the cool tile wall, mouth devouring yours as his hands slid down to your ass, lifting you up, making you wrap your legs around him.

“you’re mine tonight,” he growled against your lips. “no stopping now. you started this—now i’m gonna finish it. again and again.”

your back hit the wall as he slid into you, wet and desperate. the sounds of skin against skin, water splashing, your moans echoing in the steam—filthy and perfect.

you lost count of how many times he made you come.

after the shower, he didn’t even let you dry off.

he carried you—carried—naked and dripping, to the living room, laying you over the back of the couch. your knees barely held as he bent you forward, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding between your legs.

“still so wet?” he teased, running his fingers through your folds. “what did i do to you, baby?”

“you ruined me,” you gasped, pushing back against his hand.

“good,” he hissed. “you’re gonna take me again. right here.”

and you did.

he fucked you from behind on the couch, your moans muffled in the cushion, your fingers clawing at the leather. he didn’t let up—he used you, praised you, told you how fucking hot you looked taking him like that.

then the kitchen.

you barely made it there.

he bent you over the counter, spreading your legs with a low groan.

“you trust me?” he asked, voice low and rough.

“yes,” you breathed.

“good,” he said, sliding in again, slow and deep. “because i'm not holding back anymore.”

he fucked you while gripping your hips, your body slamming gently into the counter with each thrust, your breath fogging the cold surface.

“so fucking perfect,” he groaned. “you were made for me.”

then came the dining table.

you ended up on it—legs open, arms thrown over your head, his name spilling from your lips like a mantra. he kissed every inch of your body, left love bites on your thighs, praised every moan and whimper you gave him.

you didn’t even remember how many condoms you went through until—

“fuck,” he muttered, breathless, sweaty. “last one’s gone.”

the apartment was thick with heat and the smell of sex. your bodies glistened with sweat, tangled over the polished wood of the dining table. haechan’s chest was pressed to your back, his arms wrapped tightly around you as both of you struggled to catch your breath.

it wasn’t until the digital clock on the microwave blinked 4:02 AM that either of you realized how much time had passed.

“shit,” you whispered with a soft laugh, still breathless.

“yeah…” haechan’s voice was husky, worn out, but content. he pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “we’ve been at this for hours. you okay?”

you nodded, eyes half-lidded, still processing everything. your body felt sore, used in the best possible way, and your heart was floating somewhere between exhaustion and complete peace.

he helped you off the table, careful and gentle now, holding you by the waist as you stumbled a little, your legs wobbly. you both laughed quietly at that, and he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“come on,” he murmured. “let’s clean up and go to bed before the sun comes up.”

the warmth of his bed was a balm against your tender skin. after a quick rinse in the bathroom and slipping into one of his worn shirts, you curled up against him under the covers. his fingers traced light circles on your back as you lay there, your leg thrown over his, his other arm wrapped around you like you were something fragile and precious.

“you okay?” he asked again, softer this time. there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice—like he was afraid this had been too much.

you nodded into his chest.

“i’m more than okay,” you whispered. “i feel… safe. and really, really good.”

he exhaled a little laugh of relief and kissed the top of your head. the silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was peaceful. comforting. like your bodies had said everything your mouths didn’t need to.

soon enough, your breaths synced. his hand stayed on your waist as you both drifted off to sleep.

the next morning came slowly.

soft rays of sunlight filtered in through the curtains, painting lazy golden streaks across the sheets. you blinked awake first, still pressed against his warm body. his hand was splayed over your stomach, holding you close, and his legs were tangled with yours beneath the covers.

you didn’t want to move.

there was a quiet hum in your chest, that afterglow still lingering like a dream. you turned slightly to look at him—his hair was messy, lips parted, eyelashes resting gently on his cheeks. peaceful. beautiful.

you shifted a little, and he stirred, eyes barely opening.

“mmm,” he murmured. “you’re still here.”

“where else would i be?” you whispered.

he smiled, still half-asleep, and pulled you closer.

“good,” he said, voice low and raspy. “i want you right here. just like this.”

you melted into him, your heart full, your body still tingling in places, and thought maybe—just maybe—waking up like this with haechan could become your favorite part of any day.

haechan made breakfast in nothing but his boxers, hair still messy from sleep, humming some old song as you sat on the counter, wearing only his oversized t-shirt and the glow he’d left on your skin.

there was laughter. soft jokes. syrup on your lips that he licked off with a grin.

and when you finally curled back into the couch, your head on his shoulder, legs tangled under a shared blanket, it didn’t feel strange.

it didn’t feel like you’d crossed a line.

it felt like you’d stepped into something deeper.

he looked at you then, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek, and whispered:

“you know… i think we’re still us.”

you smiled, heart fluttering.

because he was right.

maybe in the end, sex doesn’t ruin the friendship— it transforms it.

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 13

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader)Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 3279 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

The moment Echidna wrapped her tail around Y/N, entrapping her completely, Dick knew this would only end one way.

'Y/N!' he cried out, scrambling for her in the centre of the courtyard, desperate to prevent the inevitable. Echidna was squeezing tighter, Y/N was getting paler, and he was still too far away.

Something snagged the back of his armoured back-plate, pulling him back so harshly he almost fell over.

'No, Grayson!' Calliope yelled at him.

'Let go of me!' Dick pulled and tugged to get himself free, desperation and fear spurring him on. 'Please! Let me go!'

That was when the first bolt of lightning struck down, striking the ground just in front of them. The impact sent broken bricks flying their way and Dick allowed Calliope to heave him behind one of the entrance pillars for protection.

As the bricks and dust settled, Dick and Calliope peaked out from behind the pillar to see the whole courtyard lighting up with lightning. So too was Y/N, burning bright as white fire. Echidna looked in pain as rubble crumbled down on her, as she tried to retract her tail from around Y/N. But it appeared she was sealed to Y/N.

Their fates were now entwined. No one was stopping it.

Dick made to run to her again, but again Calliope held him back at the wrist.

'Don't,' she said, but she wasn't looking at him. Calliope was looking up at her princess, her friend, and a set of tears ran down her cheeks like twin rivers. 'She has made her choice.'

Horrified and disbelieving, Dick turned back to find Y/N looking at him. Even through the light that encapsulated her body, her bright E/C eyes found him, and a grateful smile spread across her lips.

To Dick, she'd never looked more at peace.

Amidst the brightness, she mouthed a message. It was only three words, but they shot Dick straight through his heart, making him bleed with guilt and regret.

I love you.

She'd said it already to him that morning; hell, she'd said it everyday of their lives and he had been too blind and selfish to hear her. But he'd heard her this morning, as the rising sun haloed her in a saintly glow and she bared her heart to him. A heart he had been so careless with all these years.

And yet it had clicked only then what had been holding him back all these years from settling down with someone else. Dick's heart called to Y/N's in a way no one else could even start to compare.

He'd heard her this morning - finally - and he heard her now, and he felt his heart break just as Y/N completely gave in to the light and the giant bolt of lightning struck down upon Echidna.

Calliope pulled him back behind the pillar just as balconies and the roof came crashing down. Dick braced against the pillar, eyes closed as he felt dust and chaos swirl around him for what felt like eternity.

The funny thing about eternity, however, is that it is simultaneously ever-lasting and as short as a blink. Once silence settled on the courtyard, Dick dared to open his eyes. Immediately he looked to Calliope beside him. Her skin had a layer of dust on it, all over her face and arms, even her armour didn't shine so brightly anymore. She looked the most dishevelled Dick had ever seen her, but he doubted he looked much better.

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention to him. He couldn't muster up his voice to ask if she was all right, so he just raised his eyebrows in a silent question. She nodded slowly, looking over him to check on him too.

Satisfied with her answer, Dick peaked out from behind the pillar finally to see sunlight beaming down on the demolished fountain, where a giant pile of rubble half-covered a motionless Echidna.

'Where's Y/N?' Dick asked finally breaking the room's silence, unable to find her amongst the carnage. He turned to Calliope to see if she could spot her. But Calliope had no answer, looking at the pile of rubble on the verge of tears again.

Fear struck Dick's body into moving as quick as he could, stumbling over the giant pieces of rubble that had fallen from the roof, scraping his hands and knees in the process but he didn't care. He had to find her, even if he knew what he would find.

As soon as he reached the giant rubble pile where Echidna lay lifeless, Dick reached for the first piece he could get his hands on and pushed it away. The next one he picked up was smaller, so he threw it as far away as he could with a painful grunt.

He repeated the process on his own, the only sound filling the courtyard being his laboured breaths. He heard more footsteps echoing behind him. He didn't turn around though, didn't waste a damn second on whoever showed up at the door. All that mattered was finding Y/N.

Piece after piece he ripped away, grunting and crying out with exertion and exhaustion. But he couldn't stop, he wouldn't, for she wouldn't.

He cried out as he sliced his hand on a sharp rock, but before he could keep going, someone grabbed his injured hand and wrapped it in cloth. He looked up to find it was the Queen of Themyscira herself treating him. Her touch was gentle and guiding, tying off the cloth with a soft tug before looking up at him, tears in her eyes.

For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, their eyes mirroring one another's heartbreak. But then Queen Hippolyta bent down and picked up a rock and threw it away. Then another, and another. So Dick restarted his work too, moving rubble piece after rubble piece as quick as his tired and aching body would allow him to.

Dick didn't know how long he did this for, but his exhaustion wiped away at the sight of a hand, the palm facing upwards.

'Here,' he said to the Queen and the two of them started moving the rubble away from that area as quick as they could. The more rubble they removed, the more Y/N was revealed, and once her top half had been exposed, it was easy enough for Dick to pull her out from underneath the rest of the loose rubble.

Dick, exhausted, collapsed to his knees, Y/N carefully cradled in his arms. Her S/C skin was covered in nicks from the rubble and the fight, bruises blooming all over her exposed arms and legs. Her H/C hair was littered with dust and little rocks, and yet as Dick stared at her lifeless face, she looked as beautiful as she had always been.

'Y/N...' Dick whispered, hoping beyond hope there was still a chance for her. But when she didn't respond, angry and guilty tears finally fell from his eyes as he gently shook her, saying more firmly. 'Come on, Y/N. Wake up... please...'

His plead was only met with silence, and that's when he let out a bellow that echoed throughout the courtyard. The sound was all his anger, all his regret, all his love he never showed her unable to go anywhere but into thin air.

He bowed his head and pulled Y/N in tighter, one hand around her back, the other cradling her cheek as he rested his head atop hers. 'I'm sorry, Y/N,' he whispered in between sobs. 'I'm so sorry.'

He couldn't apologise more, for all he had done their whole lives was hurt her. Over and over again, he had missed the signs, had chosen to dismiss it all because of one reason or another. And even if this had always been her fate - to die saving her people - he at least could've given her what she deserved beforehand. A life full of love and laughter, not of death and pain, of suffering and loss, of fighting and hiding.

He'd never deserved Y/N, never deserved the kindness she brought to a room, the unwavering support she gave without expecting anything in return, the unconditional love she gave away for free. If she were alive still and they were both immortal, he would never deserve her still, even if he had forever to make it up to her.

He prayed to no gods for a second chance, because the only god he believed in was now gone.

Even so, he found himself pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head and whispering into her hair, 'I love you, Y/N. I've always loved you...'

A hand placed itself upon his shoulder, and Dick finally looked away from Y/N to find the Queen looking down at him, her cheeks also stricken with tears. 'We should take her to the infirmary,' Queen Hippolyta said, her demeanour oddly calm for someone who just lost their granddaughter. 'There she can be prepared for... a proper warrior's burial.'

Dick could tell it was taking all of the Queen's will not to fall apart, especially not in front of all her other warriors that, as Dick now noticed, surrounded the entire courtyard now. As Dick looked around, he noticed many crying or bowing their heads as a sign of respect. Many held each other as they grieved, and it suddenly struck Dick that he would have to tell Diana the news when he returned home, not to mention the rest of the team.

Dick never thought he'd feel the same pain and heartache he felt when Wally fazed out of existence. But he was feeling it now tenfold, and it threatened to tear him into nothing.

But the Queen was right, he couldn't hold Y/N here anymore. She deserved some privacy before her burial, and so he made to stand while holding Y/N, but a bright light sparked atop the large rubble pile, freezing him and everyone around him in place.

Unlike Y/N's light just before, he was transfixed by this light, unable and unwilling to look away from what emerged from the light.

It was a figure, feminine-looking based on the initial curves, but then it changed to small and petite, then again to be tall and muscular, all the while never having a definitive face. Dick felt a sense of deja vu as the muscular figure morphed into an old crone, then into someone truly familiar as the light stopped just above Dick, the Queen and Y/N.

To Dick's horror and confusion, the womanly figure looking down at him looked exactly like Y/N. Though she wore white flowing garments, gold armbands and bangles, and her H/C hair billowed out behind her on a wind Dick couldn't feel.

She smiled kindly down at him first, then directed her smile to the Queen. Without a word, Queen Hippolyta nodded graciously at the floating figure. 'Mother Aphrodite,' she said in a reverent manner, a tone Dick had never heard her speak with anyone before.

That being said, the Amazons around the courtyard immediately fell to one knee and bowed their heads as a sign of respect. Dick would've done the same had he not felt so numb and off-kilter.

Dumbly, he looked up at the goddess and said, 'You appeared in my dreams once. The night I came here... you wore her face then too.'

To his surprise, Aphrodite's smile dropped into a sad frown as her eyes landed on Y/N still being cradled in Dick's arms. 'I appear as someone's most loved one,' she answered simply. 'I do not look the same to all, even now.' She gestured to the rest of the room and Dick could only imagine who everyone saw in that moment.

A fresh wave of tears fell down his cheeks at what she implied. 'So you knew even before I did? In just one moment?'

Aphrodite nodded. 'I see all bonds of love, no matter how long it takes for the two connected to see it themselves.'

Sobs threatened to escape Dick, but he bit them down as he looked down at Y/N, brushed a loose strand of hair away from her peaceful face. 'I saw it too late,' he said as the tears kept flowing. 'It had always been there, I know that now. I just wish...' He wished for a lot of things, he just didn't know where to start, so he cut himself off.

'Doesn't matter now,' he said instead. 'She's gone. Forever.'

'Death is not the end of love,' Aphrodite interjected. 'Certainly not for your love story, Dick Grayson.'

Dick looked back up at the goddess confused. 'What do you mean?'

Aphrodite gave him a knowing smile before answering. 'Athena is not the Amazons' only mother, you know. They are also my children, and I say that it is not Y/N's time to pass on. Not when love as pure as yours awaits her.'

Dick doesn't comprehend what she said, and before he could ask what she meant, Aphrodite leaned down and pressed one finger to his heart. A spark of light bloomed on his chest where she touched, and a warm sensation sunk into him from it. She did the same for Y/N, placing her light over Y/N's heart.

'Your lives are now linked together,' Aphrodite said as she pulled away. 'Do not waste any more time, Dick Grayson. Swear it.'

'I swear it,' Dick said breathlessly, though he wasn't quite sure what was going on still.

'Good,' the goddess of love said, then disappeared into her light once more. Once her light had finally disappeared, Dick felt the slightest movement in his arms.

Heart racing, he looked down to see Y/N's fingers twitching, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

'Y/N?' he said gently, holding his breath in case this was all a dream.

But her body felt warmer, and he saw the rise and fall in her chest as she finally opened her eyes with a huge gasp for air. She looked around wildly until her eyes finally met his, and with a hoarse voice she said, 'Dick?'

'Oh thank the gods,' Dick gasped out, pulling Y/N into a bone-crushing hug as more tears fell from his eyes, this time with joy and relief. 'You're alive!'

He could hear the cheering of the Amazons behind him, the happy sobs of the Queen somewhere nearby, but all he could focus on was Y/N's arms tightening around him, pulling him to her as much as he pulled her to him.

Once they pulled apart, Y/N's hand fell to his chest as she looked around at the damage around her. 'What happened?'

'You killed Echidna,' Dick said, eyes drifting to the large, lifeless body in front of them. 'But you... you sacrificed yourself to do so.'

'I...remember that,' Y/N said, closing her eyes as if replaying the moments in her head. 'I brought that bolt of lightning down on us, and I felt myself die... How am I alive?'

'Aphrodite saved you,' Dick answered. 'Brought you back to life.'

Y/N looked up at him shocked. 'Aphrodite? Are you sure?' Why?'

'Because...' Dick started, then found himself doing what he always did when it came to his feelings and close up. But he remembered his vow to Aphrodite, and she was right, it was time to stop wasting time.

Dick locked eyes with Y/N and they were pressed so close together he could feel her heart racing in time with his. 'Because our love story hasn't even begun yet,' he answered, which only made Y/N furrow her brows in confusion.

'Our love story?" she asked. 'I don't understand....'

Dick moved his hand from her cheek to cover her hand pressed on his chest. 'I love you Y/N. I have since the day we met, I think. I've just been too much of a coward to tell you and too much of an absolute idiot to see that you felt the same this entire time.'

Y/N looked up at him as if he placed the stars in the night sky, a mixture of hope and disbelief in her radiant E/C eyes.

'You... You love me?' she whispered, as if worried that if she spoke too loudly the fantasy would disappear on her.

But it was not a fantasy, and Dick wasn't going anywhere.

'I never knew it until I got here,' Dick started, 'but it's always been you. Always.'

With that, he leaned down as she leaned up and their lips locked in a kiss that had been building up for over a decade. It was the culmination of all they had been through together, all the tears and laughs they had shared, and a promise of what they still had left to love and learn about one another.

Dick's hand over hers fell back to her cheek to pull her even closer while her now free hand roamed up to rest on the nape of his neck, delving into the locks that laid there. The sensation was like nothing he'd ever felt before - a buzz of excitement radiated through him at her gentle, loving touch.

And when they finally pulled apart for air, they kept their foreheads touching like neither could bare being apart from the other. At least that was how Dick felt, but the smile on Y/N's face reassured him the feeling was mutual.

'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,' Y/N said breathlessly.

A pang of guilt went through Dick as he stroked her cheek. 'I'm sorry I made you wait so long. I'm such a fool.'

'Perhaps, but you're my fool,' Y/N said cheekily as she pulled him in for another mind-melting kiss. Dick thought in that moment he would never get over the wonderful sensation kissing her brought him, and he never wanted to.

When they pulled apart again, she said, looking at the crowds of Amazons cheering and hugging each other from the out skirts of the courtyard. 'We better get up. It's not everyday a goddess brings someone back from the dead.'

'Right.'

Dick helped Y/N to her feet and she was immediately embraced by her sobbing grandmother, which elicited a bigger round of cheers and clapping and clashing of swords in celebration.

Y/N quickly scrambled her way atop Echidna, and the room went silent as she raised her hand.

'Echidna's war is over!" she cried, and the crowd roared in celebration. They quietened again as she spoke once more. 'We have much cleaning up to do, and many of our sisters to formally send off into the afterlife,' she said more solemnly. 'This war is a dark time in our history, but that is all it is now: history. Let us build new homes, new lives, amidst this destruction. Let us celebrate the lives of our loved ones that we have lost. And let us grow stronger together from this ordeal. We are Amazons, and we have proven to the gods themselves that we are not to be reckoned with. Today we celebrate this victory as we aim to restore and improve our home.'

The crowd exploded in a cacophony of claps and cheers and clashing weapons, and amidst it all Y/N was looking down at Dick, the most gorgeous smile on her face. Dick clapped up at her, pride and love flowing out of every pore in him. He truly did not deserve the goddess that stood above him, but Aphrodite had given them a second chance, and he would spend every second of that chance making sure Y/N knew she was loved by him.

~~~

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[bree-peasant]

One for the Ages - a Kakashi x fem!Reader fic

Chapter 3/5

(Back to Chapter 1, Chapter 2) (Jump to Chapter 4)

Author's note: Oh the angst!!! I swear the next chapter will be sillier and lighter, but there's a little treat in this one too. For anyone new - this is a reader self-insert, slowburn fic, but the reader has a pre-established past, which reveals itself along with the story. Looking like there'll be 5 chapters in total, unless my hand slips haha

Word count: 3.1k

Summary (from part 1): A new shinobi joins the Konoha ranks and Kakashi finds himself inexplicably drawn to her.

Warnings: mentions of blood and suicide

Enjoy! ♡

-------------------------------------------------------

She woke up in a foreign bed, with all her strength drained. The afternoon light was coming through the window.

It took all the energy she could muster to pull herself off the mat. As the cloud over her mind began to lift, it was filled with images of what had happened. The mercenary ninjas, Kakashi - trapped and then... She threw her bruised hands over her eyes.

"No... what have I done?!" She wept almost silently, coming apart at the seams. She'd made a terrible mistake, she should've never gone back to this life. And now, it could all go awry. When she'd finally managed to pull herself together, there was a faint knock on the door.

"Come in." She struggled to keep her voice from shaking.

The door slid open to reveal a grave looking Kakashi at the entrance. He kept his gaze downward cast as he spoke.

"I heard noise and assumed you were awake. How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted..."

Kakashi walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. He stood by the window, barely facing her.

"What happened? Where are we?"

"We're in the Sand Village. You collapsed and I carried you the rest of the way. The mission is complete."

Y/N remained silent for a moment, trying to put her thoughts in order. Suddenly, she was struck by an awful awareness.

"Those men... their bodies... if anyone were to find them, they could...they could realise it was me!"

"I burned their bodies." Kakashi's voice was low and cold.

Despite the relief of that knowledge, she felt the tears well up in her eyes again. But no, she would not allow herself to crumble. She was stronger than that, and she only had one choice. To tell the truth.

"You can't even look at me anymore, Kakashi. Are you that repulsed by me?" She spoke again.

At her words, he turned around forcefully, his dark eye locking in with hers, he looked angry and tired.

"Don't you understand?! I feel betrayed! This whole time, I had no idea who you were!"

"Please, just let me explain. I will tell you everything, I swear."

Kakashi shook his head, but remained in place. Y/N took the opportunity to speak, before he could change his mind and storm off.

"My clan, we possess the kekkei genkai to bend our own blood. If mixed with others', we can take our foes down in an instant. In the olden times, we were revered and respected, keepers of the peace. But as the clan grew, so did their thrist for power and riches. People from my clan sold themselves to the highest bidder, they fought wars on the wrong side, committed assassinations, we became feared and loathed for our kekkei genkai. We were deemed...unnatural."

"And your clan was hunted and killed for it. I've heard the stories. But there wasn't supposed to be any survivors remaining."

"My father, the last living member, escaped our village and started a new life. He married my mother and had me. They brought me up in secret, and when my ability became too difficult to maintain, he trained me in secret. But he was found out..." Y/N paused, taking a deep breath. Kakashi had leaned his back to the wall, avoiding direct eye contact.

"Found out by whom?" He asked, not lifting his head.

Y/N pondered her response. It was difficult to say his name out loud. After a moment, her voice came out, quiet, broken.

"Orochimaru."

Kakashi's whole body sprung up at the mention of that name.

"At first, he approached my father with a proposition. To take me on as his pupil in exchange for great power. By this point, word had spread about his betrayal of the Leaf Village and his dark dealings. My father knew he wanted me as a potential vessel, so he could use my kekkei genkai for his own purposes, so he refused. This angered Orochimaru and he swore to obtain our power by force."

"But that's impossible!" He interrupted.

"You of all people should know that's not true, Kakashi of the sharingan."

He involuntarily touched his covered eye at her words. They had never spoken about his history with Obito, but the rumours never ceased to float around him.

"I was given this, I did not take it." His voice was full of sorrow at the memory.

"Yes, but if it can be given, it can also be taken brutally away. Orochimaru has found a way to do this at the brink of one's death, by sheer force."

Kakashi's head fell solemnly.

"He went after my father first, he was relentless and strong. So my father did the only thing he could, before Orochimaru got to him..." she pasued. "...he killed himself."

Her words caught in her throat, her hands were shaking. She hadn't spoken this out loud in so long. The burden of her past, which she had carried for years, alone, in hiding, it was too much to bare facing it again.

Kakashi had his own demons to face at those words. Flashbacks of his own father's fate haunted him every day; seeing his body, the realisation of what he had done. He understood the heavy weight of what she was telling him, like few others could.

He let her collect herself, his exterior softening somewhat. He'd heard stories of her clan throughout his life. Of their ruthlessness and obsession for power. Their fate wasn't just a cautionary tale, they were viewed as beasts among men, and loathed for it. It was difficult for Kakashi to bring that image together with the woman he had come to know and care for. Was it possible that the stories were false? But no, hadn't he seen something in her eyes back there with the black ninjas? A certain hunger, a deadly fire. Could she be trusted?

"How did you escape?" He asked, unable to make any decisions yet.

"I faked my own death." She exhaled, summoning her strength to continue. "My father had managed to buy me the time needed to prepare. I made it look like I had drowned. And then I ran."

"Why did you come to Konoha and join our ranks? Why did you not remain in hiding? Surely, you must've known that something like this could happen!"

"I hid, for a long time! And in that time I saw so much suffering and indifference, so much blood and hurt. I have these abilities, I was trained as a shinobi, and to let things happen, things that I could put a stop to... I couldn't do it anymore! So, I made a decision, hoping that Orochimaru would never believe that I could be so close, so out in the open, even if he ever began to suspect I was alive."

They both remained silent for a moment. Y/N's heart was pounding so loudly, she was sure he could hear it. She broke the silence first.

"That's it. That's my story. I am at your mercy now."

Kakashi didn't respond immediately, weighing his response carefully.

"Does the Hokage know?"

"He does."

At that, he made a move towards the door. He stopped at the entrance with his back still turned to her.

"Rest. We'll head back in the morning."

Y/N was left in the room, her fate still uncertain. Would Kakashi accept her past and keep her secret? Or would he expose her to the ANBU, demand the Hokage shun her from the village? Or worse, deliver her to the people that wanted to see her clan erased from existance.

When she woke up early next morning, she'd regained some of her strength back. But her mental state was still shaky. She packed what few possessions  she had and left the house.

Kakashi was waiting outside. They began their journey home in silence. Y/N would give anything to go back to their conversations from before. Despite her weighing concern, she couldn't help but feel some relief knowing that the truth was out in the open. Whatever happened next, at least she didn't have to hide from him anymore.

They walked this way for some time, keeping a calm pace. Now that the mission had been fulfilled, there was little danger threatening their return. When Kakashi finally spoke, his voice came out almost casual. There was just a slight hint of strain in it.

"I never said thank you for saving my life back there. It seems I owe you twice now." A faint smile lingered on his lips, hidden by his mask.

"Kakashi, you must know I would never do anything to harm a comrade. And I will always stand by your side." Her gaze intensely focused on him.

His silence hurt her more than she was ready to admit. Of course she knew things could never return to what they were, but she hoped he could accept her.

"I just need time, Y/N." He said, as if reading her mind.

It was a painfully slow journey, wrapped in a cumbersome silence. She forced herself to be patient and give Kakashi his space, only venturing to speak when required. They made camp during the night and she kept watch, although it wasn't necessary. She gazed at his sleeping figure and her heart broke at the thought that she might lose the little they had built so far. Now that everything was on the line, Y/N began to realise how attached she'd grown to the gray-haired ninja.

The next day they increased their speed, eager to get back to the village. In some ways, running through the trees, jumping and swinging from branches, brought relief to both of them, as it didn't allow for much conversation. They made good time this way, aiming to be back in Konoha during the night. Nearing the village, Kakashi made a sign to stop. He swung down from the trees, landing with a thud on the ground, Y/N following.

He stood facing her for a moment, hesitant.

"I will keep your secret. If the Hokage has deemed this plan acceptable, I won't be the one to challenge his decision."

"Thank you." She replied with sincerity.

Kakashi nodded, preparing to continue, but stopped at the sound of her voice.

"And us? Are we still friends?" There was so much hopefulness in her tone, which she didn't care to hide anymore.

"Yes. We're still friends." He said after a brief pause, but avoided looking at her.

Continuing on their path, Y/N was unconvinced.

Days passed and life seemed to return to normal. Y/N was back to training her team of genin, the memory of the unfortunate mission fading. The only thing that still weighed on her mind was her relationship with the copycat ninja. She was sure he was avoiding her, as she hadn't bumped into him since they had come back, only seeing him in the distance ocassionally. She dared not approach him directly, hoping that he'd eventually come round, if only she'd give him enough space. But it was becoming increasingly more difficult to do so.

When the chunin exams came around, Y/N confidently put forward all three members of team 8, although deep down she was concerned for them. She felt protective over those kids since the first day they trained together, and Iruka's speech hadn't helped to ease her anxiety. Hearing Kakashi's confident words, she was reminded of the way they used to speak; how they would argue on various topics and his ability to shift her opinion. All she wanted in that moment was to talk to him, to voice her concerns and have him soothe her.

After they had seen the Hokage, she waited for him outside and approached him for the first time since their mission together.

"Can we talk?"

"I've got some business to take care of." He replied, not unkindly.

Y/N was about to give up, regretting following her impulses, but he intervened.

"Tonight. I could swing by your place. That is, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. Tonight then." They seperated, her heart both excited and terrified at the prospect.

After handing team 8 their sign up sheets and delivering the news of the exam to her eager students, she returned home. She made a point of tidying her place and making herself look somewhat presentable, without trying too hard. After all, this was just two friends chatting, which was perhaps the best case scenario she could hope for from tonight.

When she heard his knock, her heart skipped a beat. She was almost annoyed at herself for being so affected by him.

"Sorry for being so late, things took longer than expected." As always the mystery man. She knew better than to ask what his business had been.

"Would you like some tea?" She asked, closing the door behind him and leading him into the kitchen.

It was strange being back here for the first time, since she'd patched him up. Kakashi felt unsure of his legs, so he took a seat in one of the chairs.

"Perhaps something stronger, if you have it."

She smiled, turning away from him and pulling a bottle of sake from one of the cupboards. She produced two small cups and placed one of them in front of him, filling it up. He drank it in one big gulp, without looking up, putting it forward to be filled up again.

"Long day?" She asked, obliging him.

"Long life." He sighed.

"You've been avoiding me, Kakashi." She took a sip from her own cup, her eyes cast downwards. Her expression was calm, she'd given up on waiting around for him to make up his mind.

He stared at her with his one visible eye, pondering his response. With resignation, he decided to be truthful.

"You're right. I've been finding it difficult to face you since we returned from the Sand Village."

"But you agreed to come here tonight."

"The truth is, Y/N, I found myself missing this. I thought I could get over the feeling if I stayed away, but it has persisted. I've come to... value your company more than I expected." Kakashi searched her face for a reaction, but her features remained the same. Only her eyes lifted to look at his, a certain glint in them, or so he thought.

"Does this mean you can come to terms with who I am? The people I come from?"

"The more I know you, the more I want to try." Her hand was resting on the table by her cup and he wanted nothing more than to place his own on top of it. But something in him wouldn't allow his body to move.

"I'm so worried about the chunin exam. I don't want to see any of these kids get hurt." She sighed, glad to speak her thoughts out loud.

Kakashi leaned back into his chair, feeling the ease of being in her presence take over him like it used to.

"Hurt is part of this life they have chosen." He started. "I know what I said to Iruka, but truth be told, I worry too. Perhaps, we don't give them enought credit, they have proven to be more resilient than most."

The conversation went on like this for some time. They kept drinking sake until their cheeks warmed and their tongues loosened. Kakashi dared to ask more about her past, returning her honesty by answering her own questions in more detail than ever before. He told her about Obito and Rin, about his great shame and his many regrets. He surprised himself by talking so much about his own past. He was glad to be met with understanding, rather than the usual pity or shock that followed him around. All the cards were on the table and they were both revealing their broken and twisted lives to one another.

"I've never told anyone these things." He sighed, feeling lighter than he had in years.

"I'm glad you could tell me." Her hand moved to rest on top of his, the same thing he had wanted to do earlier. Her skin was warm, he could feel the calluses on her palm, a reminder of the difficult shinobi life they had both chosen. Was it possible that it didn't have to be so damn hard and lonely all the time?

For once, the usually careful in calculating his every move jōnin, stopped thinking and just let his body move for him. His other hand gently grabbed her forearm, pulling her into him. Met with no resistance, he closed his eyes, pulling his mask down and parting his lips to clash with hers. He embraced her, holding her ever so close, their bodies leaning into one another. She felt so soft and tender in his arms, for a second he forgot anything and everything that had happened before this moment.

When their lips finally parted, they remained close, starring into each other. Y/N's head was spinning, she felt his coal eye bore into her soul like the first time he had looked at her. She felt vulnerable, yet she wasn't afraid. Seeing his face fully exposed, he was more beautiful than she had imagined.

Suddenly, Kakashi's mind was flooded with a myriad of emotions. He pulled back sharply and stood up, leaving a distressed Y/N behind.

"Kakashi, what's wrong?" She spoke hurriedly.

"I can't do this." He refused to turn back and look at her.

"Do what? What do you mean?"

"Y/N, I can't be this person for you. You heard about my past. Half of me is already dead. I can offer you friendship, but nothing more." His head fell, his body felt like lead. He pulled his mask back on.

"Please tell me you understand." He pleaded, still not looking at her.

Y/N stood motionless. Her instinct was to argue, to be upset, to make him change his mind. But deep down she knew her efforts would be futile. Because she did understand, better than she cared to admit. After all, wasn't she herself only a ghost in this life. But with him, she had felt like she'd had a chance at happiness. Perhaps having his friendship would be enough. It sure was better than the agony of the last few weeks. She sighed.

"Friends then." Y/N replied, forcing a smile.

Kakashi finally dared to look at her, his gaze focusing on her reddened lips for a moment. He shook himself off and crinkled his eye in a small smile.

"I promise I won't avoid you again. We can try returning to normal."

Y/N nodded, although she knew things between them had changed forever.

@junksmah @duckingmetal <3

"I should go, let you get some rest. There are big days ahead of us. Goodnight, Y/N." With that, he was gone and they were both alone once more.

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Next chapter

[myangelhaven]

These are my recommendations of FELIX fics! It will be updated once in a while for new stories I have read. Hopefully the links work (lemme know if it doesn't)

Credits to the authors!! All information written is taken from the authors' post and has not been modified. Reminder that some fics are NOT for minors, so please read the key and avoid 18+ contents.

HAPPY READING!!

KEY [❀]: fluff      [𖤓]: angst      [☄]: sad      [☾]:smut      [⟡]:smau      [𖦹]: humour      [✮]: my favs 

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮---------------FELIX--------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

LONG FICS

That hufflepuff boy by @kkami-writes [❀][𖤓][☾][a2l][hogwartsau][mutual pining] 5.1k

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Hey, hey, golden boy! By @staysuki [❀][𖤓][f2l][mutual pining] 11k

deep down you knew that things won't always be the same as it was when you were kids. as you grew up, felix became more and more popular compared to you, who remained invisible in the crowd. although you took this as a sign of drifting apart and denying your feelings for your childhood bestfriend, felix did not.

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You slowly opened your eyes, holding your breath.

Felix was sleepily smiling at you, eyes half-closed and dazed. He clearly wasn’t entirely lucid yet, still completely unaware, but he was still looking at you with so much affection.

Your breath escaped in a sudden rush, unable to stop yourself looking up at him.

Oh shit, his eyelashes. His freckles. So pretty.

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you’ve always thought your soulmate was an idiot to not be there sooner but eventually, everything connects when it started with Lee Felix holding your best friend at gunpoint. 

Sugar sugar by @hyunnows [❀][𖤓][✮][exes2lovers][slowburn] 23.7k

Teamed up for the annual Bake-Offs, your ex-boyfriend Felix and you have to work together to win while rediscovering your past love for each other.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄more to come!⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

☆--------Felix's masterlist || skz masterlist---------☆

[sunandflame]

Flame and Water, Chapter 8

Ship & Trope: Kyojuro x Fem!Reader (Water Pillars Tsuguko) / Slowburn

Warnings: none, fluff

Word Count: 1134 Words

pinterest board of Flame and Water

Masterlist of Flame and Water

Since you were bedridden anyway, you had no choice but to spend a lot of time together with Rengoku. And he really kept his promise to not leave you alone by coming to your room every day. At first you didn't talk much, just listened to him - how he talked about his mission and other things he enjoyed. You weren't used to people wanting to talk to you, since they tended to avoid you. But after some time, you warmed up to it, to him and slowly but surely got out of your shell by talking more with him. He seemed to enjoy it and that left a comforting and pleasant aftertaste in your mind.

And he was so funny and entertaining too. You still had to chuckle about how he had asked if you were hungry. Your answer was not needed back then, because your stomach growled loudly to affirm his question. He had laughed his thunderous laugh and just asked you to be patient. He came a little later with several trays of different food, carried by the Kakushi behind him, since he was still injured.

"Who's going to eat all this?!" You were so surprised by the amount of food. No one could eat that much, you thought back then. Now you had to laugh about how wrong you were.

While you were slowly drinking your soup, Rengoku had already finished several plates. And that wasn't even the most striking thing about him, oh no. It was his call for how tasty he found everything. With each bite, he called out a loud "Umai!" The first time you were so startled that you nearly dropped the soup onto your lap. You quickly realized that he was doing this to cherish the food he was eating.

What first scared you became a habit. You ate together every day and Rengoku always made sure you ate more than you could eat. "You're way too skinny L/N! Don't you want to get healthy and strong again?" It stirred something in you to see how much he cared for you.

Then after 1 or 2 weeks you finally had enough energy for a little walk but were not strong enough to do it unaided. The girls of the Butterfly Mansion rushed over with crutches, but Rengoku waved them off, laughing his boisterous laugh and telling them that he will be your support and help you while taking the walk. It frustrated and fascinated you in equal measure to watch a Hashira's healing process. Though you had been a visitor to the Butterfly Mansion for much longer than Kyojuro, he was nearly completely healthy again. His sling was gone, and he was able to walk normally, but this was to be expected from a Hashira of his caliber.

You were focused on your Breathing as you tried to breathe away the muscle pain in your legs when suddenly a little anxious voice appeared in your head. It kept telling you that your debts to him increased by the day, how pathetic you were, and that you were not even able to walk on your own. Your fingers and lower lip trembled at the sudden realization how actually weak you had become.

"Hey L/N-san, don't worry." His voice was unusually soft as was his smile. "You will get back to your old form, I promise." You blushed at his words and were surprised how much strength they gave you.

You never would have thought about it, but your conversations were something you grew very fond of. Your time in the Butterfly Mansion was really one of your happiest, but you knew that when he returned to full health, your paths would separate again.

That thought made you oddly sad. You liked the blond man more than you would ever admit. Yes, you could say that a friendship developed between you - you could not have even imagined it in your wildest dreams, when you consider how your beginnings were.

"L/N, what do you think about training with me?"

You chuckled, as you hold onto his arms, feeling the dew of the grass under the bare soles of your feet.

"You are laughing, I guess that is a good sign!"

"Oh? You were serious."

"Of course, I am! Why should I make jokes about that?" He looked at you with his big owlish eyes and you were comfortable enough to not hide your surprise.

"I guess it's because I am a Water Breather and you- well you use Flames. I don't think we are compatible, Rengoku-san..."

Those words hit him in an unexpected way, and he didn't know why. He wouldn't give up that easily on the idea though, because he had a good feeling about it and his instincts were never wrong.

He was quiet for a moment and that was very unusual. Unease formed inside of you as you looked up at him, cocking your head. "Rengoku-san, are you okay?"

He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and stared back at you with his usual bright smile. "Yes of course! I just think it's a shame that you would not even try it!"

"I am still Tomioka-sama’s Tsuguko..." You remembered that time when you were injured. You two hadn't talked about it, but he had said it to the Kakushis, hadn't he? Doubts arose in you now and you were no longer sure. Maybe you really should give it a try, there was nothing wrong in learning something new. "... but I guess it's okay-"

"Great! Then after your recovery we can start training right at my house!"

"Your house...?"

"Yes, the Rengoku estate! Where I live with my little brother Senjuro and my father!"

You stopped in the middle of the aisle and felt your heart pound in your throat. His father... That would mean-

"L/N are you okay? You immediately went pale."

"I-I am okay... I think I just need to sit down." You were not okay. It was the thought of the man in flames that triggered you again. You had already figured out that it had to be Kyojuro’s father who scared youm and not Kyojuro himself like you thought back then. It was just the resemblance that had triggered a long-forgotten memory. And since then, you had done your utmost to contain that memory behind several mental walls. But how could that work if you were to start to train under the same roof? What would happen if you were confronted with him directly? Sweat poured down your temples as Kyojuro brought you in the direction of the engawa.

You sat down and Kyojuro gave you a bamboo filled with water. With trembling hands, you took the bamboo and greedily drank the water.

"Rengoku-san, I need to tell you something."

🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥

Again a new chapter and that soon? Yes, yes, yes! I don't know if you lovely peeps are aware of this, but the story is already more than half done! And I'm very excited to finally finish it, because I already have a new series in mind that I won't tell you about just yet, but it will again be about Kyojuro x Fem!Reader! Again a big thanks to my lovely friend @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for beta reading and editing❤️ I am open for discussions and critique. All likes, reblogs and replies are highly appreciated!

Taglist:

@krillfromsky@kingmultiverse404 @deepressed @nelissecrectplace @yomoya-girl @theycallmemrsbarnes @roninishere @beelzmunchkin @kyojurismo @stuckinthewrongworld @lynnw @love-me-satoru @felix99999l @noarawriteszr @strawberrymm @rye-flower @demonslayeranimex @kittensssss-blog @hanatsuki-hime @kxthxrinx0310 @thatw3ird0 @lovely-nayiq @anjox

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞

part five of do you feel my hand? it is there. | part one | part two | part three | part four | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader is now his past client. the guys have a party for the next few parts. drinking alcohol and getting drunk/tipsy is mentioned. humor/fluff placed throughout. also, smut is coming very soon. :))

word count: 2.1k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: originally, I was going to do weekly updates for this, but since I'm almost finished writing the rough draft and I just couldn't wait to update it until next week, here is another chapter for you guys haha! 😂 this one is on the shorter side of things, but I assure you that the next few chapters will be quite worth it!! 🥸 also, I just finished writing the first smut scene for this (there will be a total of 2), and holy fuck, I keep going back and reading over it because it's just THAT HOT!! 🥵 I think you guys are really going to enjoy it haha! 😩

🐈‍⬛ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The alcohol definitely helped. It burned like acid as it slid down your throat, coating your tongue in a mix of sugary, synthetic peach and apple. By your second bottle of soju, you were feeling loose and relaxed. 

 But still, you were constantly aware of Minho. And where he was concerning you. 

 Ever since your… talk on the couch earlier that night, he had practically avoided you. Instead deciding to hang out with Chan and Jeongin, as they played a few drinking games together at the nearby kitchen table. 

 You, on the other hand, were caught up in a heated Mario Kart match between Jisung and Seungmin. Every time you lost - which was a lot of the time - your eyes would flit over to Minho, whose back was turned towards you as he leaned over the wooden table. 

 And you couldn’t help but notice how, as the night grew on, and he downed more liquor, the zipper at the front of his chest started to migrate south. At the beginning of the night, it was been closed pretty tightly, only offering a sliver of skin. But now, it was halfway down his sternum and offered a clear view of his sculpted pecs. There was also the fact that the chocker clinging to his neck accentuated his face- giving way to cheeks that were flushed with drink and pretty red lips that were wet with beer.

 It took everything in you to yank your focus away from all of… that, and instead direct your mind to the game that you were playing. Because honestly, it wasn’t fair at all. 

 How he had dressed up for the night - perhaps for you, even - just to completely dismiss you the moment you had some alone time with him. 

 And you wanted nothing more but to take that little zipper and pull it down, bearing all of his chest to the cool air of the living room. You wanted nothing more but to kiss up the length of that smooth, thick neck, before stopping and playing with those plush, perfect lips. 

 Alas, all of your wants were left in vain, as the night drawled on with more alcohol and more greasy food, and more loud music. Yet still, Minho made no move to near you. Not like he had when you first arrived - when he had looked so eager to get close to you. 

 The flip had been switched inside of him, and all at once, he no longer gave two shits about you.

 Maybe that was for the better after all… 

“C’mon Ji- you totally cheated right there!” Seungmin’s yell caused you to shake out of your… angry and horny daydreaming. 

 Jisung turned to his friend with wide eyes, a deep frown painted across his lips, “I did not! That shortcut is known by everyone- I didn’t glitch to the finish line.” 

 “Ah cut the bullshit and just fess up,” Yongbok laughed from the sofa, where he was playing a complicated card - which Hyunjin had practically begged to play - with Changbin and Hyunjin. Currently, Changbin was winning. Much to Hyunjin’s demise. “We all know you’re the worst cheater around.” 

 “Hey! I wasn’t the one who completely skipped the second lap!” Jisung exclaimed, shooting an accusatory glance Seungmin’s way. The younger man was busy taking a long swig of his glass that was full of a Bloody Mary. Jisung turned to you then, motioning with his head for you to back him up. 

 You crunched on a few chili-flavored tortilla chips. “Uhm- yeah, Ji, you kinda did cheat… but to be fair, so did Seungmin.” Jisung gave you an elated high five before picking up his controller again and controlling the main menu to another round of races. 

 Seungmin leaned over and rolled his eyes in a non-threatening way, “Thanks for letting me outta that one, Y/N.” 

 “Anytime.” You winked, laughing under your breath at the state he was in - hair messy and cheeks puffy from soju. They were all in a similar state, the liquid courage running through them and making them loud and unruly and fun all at the same time. 

 “I’m bored.” You heard Jeongin complain over to your left, where he was playing beer pong with Chan and… Minho. “I hate beer pong.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, munching on a cold piece of pizza that he had been nursing for the last half hour. 

 “You only hate it because you suck at the game,” Chan muttered, as he threw one of his balls forward. It quickly skirted off the table and into the distance of the kitchen. At his words, Jeongin burst out into a hysterical, drunken fit of laughter. 

 He was doubled over in delight, having to wipe tears from his eyes as he watched Chan pick up his stray ball, “Oh yeah, and you’re one to talk…”

 The entire time, Minho was silent. He filled up more plastic red cups with beer, otherwise playing the game in near silence. You didn’t know if he acted so at every one of their parties, but by the way that the boys were giving him peculiar looks throughout the night, you supposed his moodiness was out of character. 

 It seemed like, the more alcohol he got into his system, the quieter he became. During dinner, he had been laughing with the guys - still ignoring you, but at least he was participating in the night. But then it got later and later, and he just… shut down. 

 You did not doubt that his change in demeanor was because of you. He was perfectly fine before you walked in. Before you just had to fucking ruin it-

 “Why don’t we watch that new sci-fi movie I’ve been telling you guys about?” Hyunjin chimed in, right after he had finished his card game, where the results ended in Changbin being the sole winner. “I could use a break from the… games.” 

 “Because you lost?” Yongbok taunted the older in that low voice of his, wiggling his eyebrows playfully and earning a shove from Hyunjin. 

 “I’m sick of playing Mario Kart anyway, so I’m down for a movie,” you chimed in, throwing your controller down onto the carpeted floor much to Jisung’s protest, as he was trying to show you a shortcut for the race you were currently in. 

 Changbin leaned back in his place on the couch, stretching out with a loud groan, “It’s decided then- movie night here we come,” he leaned over to the coffee table and took a long drawl of his cup that was half full of vodka. “Min, can you grab that big bag of popcorn that you always have stashed in your kitchen?” 

 Your eyes flitted over to Minho then, trailing on the way that he looked at Changbin with an annoyed kind of light in his eyes. “And what am I, your servant?” He practically grumbled out. His icy tone did something funny to you, caused something to loosen deep within your soul and rattle around in your veins. 

 Changbin replied to him, but his words were lost to you as you noticed Jisung and Seungmin looking at each other, seeming to send a message to one another without even saying a word. 

 And your heart stopped then, as you focused on Jisung’s mouth, and how his lips formed a single word. 

 Y/N. 

 He was saying your name. 

 Why were they suddenly talking about you? 

Then Seungmin was tipping his head to the side, gesturing somewhere off to the side with a cryptic frown and your stomach was doing somersaults. 

 “I’m going to the washroom, don’t wait up for me to start.” You said to no one in particular, hastily standing from your spot on the floor and practically running to the nearby bathroom. 

 It took a good splashing of water to your entire face for some of the sense to get knocked back into you. Your mind was racing a mile a minute, heart in tandem with the momentum. 

 Because what the actual fuck? 

 What was going on? 

 The night had been going well - it seemed like the guys were enjoying their time together with you and everyone was in a happy mood. 

 Everyone except Minho. 

 And sure, you noticed how the guys kept giving him odd looks throughout the night, at his quietness and chilly attitude to everyone and everything. 

 But it had never occurred to you that they were perceptive enough to know that his change in mood had been because of you. 

 Suddenly, it felt like everything was crumbling down around you- the small bathroom walls shrinking and shrinking until it was hard for you to breathe. 

 You knew you shouldn’t have come to the party. 

 Knew it was going to be awkward, with the guys and… him. 

 Trying to be the optimist, you had decided to go because you thought it’d be a fun way to connect with your old acquaintances again. That maybe, you’d get a chance to grow closer to Dr. Lee. 

 Then, the dynamics were shifting and he was turning on you and everyone was aware of it, and fuck- 

 It was so damn embarrassing. 

 But deep down, you didn’t want to be a coward. 

 You had already run away from all of your feelings - about the clinic, Nyx, and Minho - before. 

 Hell, you had tried to run away from him again only a week before. 

 You didn’t want to run anymore. 

 You wanted to stand your ground. Wanted to fight for something- for anything that you truly wanted. 

 And right then? 

 All you wanted was to finish the night out strong - wanted to have a good time with your friends. Wanted to try and push thoughts of him out of your mind, even if it seemed quite impossible. 

So you took a deep breath, examining yourself in the bathroom mirror for a few seconds. Silently giving yourself an inner-pep talk. About how you weren’t going to allow some stupid drama with him to get in the way of your night. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the living room lights were dimmed and the loud hum of a movie's intro was buzzing around the entire place. As you slinked close to the couch, you came to terms with the… seating situation. Jeongin and Changbin were taking up either of the armchairs, meanwhile, the rest of the guys were curled up in various states on the sofa. And the only free space for you was in the corner, right beside him. 

 But fuck everything, because you weren’t going to let it affect you. 

As you squeezed into the space, Chan leaned over Minho and handed you a cold can of beer and a bowl that was spilling over with popcorn. “Eat up darling, we got plenty where that came from.” He laughed, flashing a pearly-white smile your way before he was out of your sight again. 

 You could physically feel Minho stiffen at your side. By the way that Chan had called you ‘darling.’ He had used such a term of endearment before, but just seeing Minho’s reaction to it forced your heart to race even harder than it already was. 

 Placing the full can of beer down on the nearby coffee table - you were already feeling quite tipsy, so you weren’t up for any more liquor - you nuzzled into the plush cushions of the sofa. Even with your curled-up state, you could sense the heat radiating off of his body. It came in droves, washing over your entire form and warming that frigid, rattling part inside of you. 

 And as you sat there, your body began to relax into the cushions, and your eyes drooped shut every few minutes. You tried your best to stay awake. Tried your best to stay alert, in case anything… happened. But everything proved to be too hard. 

 The exhaustion from the long work week was finally catching up to you, as you lay there, tucked underneath a fuzzy blanket. 

 So fucking close to him. But not close enough. Not nearly. 

 Perhaps that’s what caused the sudden sleepiness to infect your mind. 

 The pain, the heartache, of being so near yet so far from what you truly wanted was entirely too tiring to deal with anymore.

 You had already been battling such feelings for years. 

 And all at once, you realized that you couldn’t do it anymore. 

 It was just… too much. 

  So instead of facing anything at the moment, of taking action, you did the only thing you could manage right then. 

 You closed your eyes, 

 Allowing yourself to melt into the fuzziness of it all, 

 In the comforting presence at your side - even if he was still sitting rod straight and completely focused on the movie. 

 And then, the darkness finally won over, and you were whisked off to dreamland. 

To be continued...

taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added~

🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang

©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[windupaidoneus]

omg for the f/o asks i would like to hear more abt absinthe/weiss or hildemet or hilde & hancock

💌2, 3 & 🌹1 & 7 anddd ⛓️‍💥 1, 6

sorry if thats too much i am the Mr curious

>:) you will get answers for all of these & all of them because i'm sick in the head. Mr curious & mr insanity- wait thats someone else. stream dpr ian i guess!!

under cut bc you know me this will be long

💌

2 - How did you and your f/o come to know each other prior to your relationship? Was it an extended slowburn or a near-immediate whirlwind affair?

good lird.

absinthe & weiss: well. what absinthe expected: an antagonistic book he may or may not end up fighting while having very mixed feelings about it due to knowing how that book came to even be. what he got: a grumpy pretentious dick who is clearly a good person at heart. it was absolutely a slow burn & weiss considered him a ditz for a little while but was a bit taken aback by how surprisingly knowledgeable & dependable absinthe turned out to be. they met bc absinthe took some of the forest of myth inhabitants' deathdream (or deathdroom if you prefer) onto himself thinking he'd be completely immune to it & ended up sunk into a really deep deathdream, & obviously nier & weiss went in there to save him like they did everyone else. i think Something clicked really quickly with them but it wasn't like. romantic in nature to begin with. it developed that way they just get on well no matter what

hildegarde & emet: 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 sorry i felt compelled. i mean look at shadowbringers. what the fuck ever. they're. i mean they sure know each other before dating. & i mean it's not a slow burn exactly. it's. emet yearns for him the moment he recognises the soul colour. emet also gets weirdly attached to him independently from that. emet does not like that. hildegarde ends up relying on & trusting him more than he does the scions even after the "betrayal". emet teaches him black magic. hildegarde really wishes they didn't have to fight in the end & truly genuinely wishes there was another option. & they're getting married anyway #mydeusexmachina

hildegarde & hancock: they actually grew close surprisingly quickly considering the walls both of them put up?? which is probably why tbh. hilde found him really charming & charismatic, which no one really understood lmfao, & hancock wasnt particularly intimidated knowing this was the warrior of light eikon slayer blablablah bc he Looked Pretty Pathetic & he found the contrast really endearing. it wasn't explicitly romantic until post endwalker though. & they spent a LOT of time together before that! very much & slow burn & hancock was aware of his own feelings for a long time there. hilde wasnt. he doesnt know jackkk shitttt

3 - Who was the one to pursue the relationship? Was it even reciprocated at first? Was it a big deal, or did you instead forgo a "confession" and one day just quietly acknowledge that you're basically a couple?

absinthe & weiss: definitely not one-sided. i don't actually think either of them "pursued" a relationship per se, it kinda just. happened. when absinthe tells emil about his feelings for weiss emil kinda just goes "oh... i thought you guys were a thing already..." & absinthe has to reckon with that. this of course leads to emil (& later kainé.) making attempts at matchmaking but less "getting them together" way & more "getting them to acknowledge they are together" way. & they do that by teasing the shit out of both of them in various ways. kainé can & will weaponise this during arguments with weiss & they have to get a tantrum hole for him within a week. you know the tantrum hole. from the flaming skull comic. this but for weiss. his rectangle tantrum hole

hildegarde & emet: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH head in my hands. it was "reciprocated" but they felt about each other in very different ways despite it being love on both ends. GESTURES TOWARD SHB. they did not get together then at all Obviously. they lived pretty much like a couple once emet came back but it did take them having an (imperfect) actual conversation about Things for them to really... get anywhere. it's a mess in there

hildegarde & hancock: theeee one-sided pininggggg which was actually not that one-sided hilde just hadn't thought about it that hard bc for the longest time he was perfectly fine being best friends who fuck. at some point it became that & also something else & he wasn't sure what to do about it so he did nothing. a LOT of shit happened between 6.5 & 7.0 tho bc emet came back + they had enough development to actually get together + hancock was straightforward about his own feelings & they also got together + working out a stable solution between the three of them?? (which is just making sure hancock & emet get along which they do surprisingly well happy throuple thriday yay) hancock kept it to himself for a while bc the notion of courting the warrior of light felt way beyond him bc he's not nearly as important in the grand scheme of things & he's overall relatively content with how things are but he, as he liked to call it, decided to be selfish for once & ask for a bit more of the wol's time despite him being needed to save the world & whatnot. & hilde was basically like :0 whoa! i hadnt thought about it like that before! let me ask my gay thing at home

🌹

1 - What terms of endearment do you and your f/o use for each other? Are there any particular nick/petnames that get used depending on specific contexts?

absinthe & weiss: lol. absinthe calls him sir pages when being overtly reverent (& completely genuinely too. like this is serious shit for him. everyone is fucking embarrassed bc that's cringe as hell) & otherwise calls him every nickname he finds nice enough. weissy is of course one that comes to mind... weiss usually calls him a hopeless dolt which is correct & yes it functions as a petname for him. you know how he gets. oh he also calls him a charlatan at times

hildegarde & emet: ah hah hah... flattery will get you nowhere, dear boy... 🚬 that aside. of course we get dears. emet isn't actually much for petnames but azem functions as one due to being a thing pretty much only he & hildegarde know about in as much depth as they do. & ofc hilde being. well. him. he uses it both when he's annoyed & when he feels like establishing to everyone in the room they have a special connection. like how i say my wife. grins. hilde gets so fucking smug when he realises that's what's happening on the other hand hildegarde is reaaally fucking annoying with petnames oooh my love my light sweetheart darling... they actually do share some of these (emet can say sweetheart & darling sometimes. but only sometimes. he has to be feeling real tender & willing to be more openly affectionate which he's actually a bit shy about a fair amount of the time. died & reverted to his ancient self in a lot of ways i fear just with a shit ton of trauma added & all that) but hilde uses them way more liberally now there's bedroom-exclusive petnames & they are entirely based on what hilde likes to be called. like doll. kinda shit emet says if he wants hilde to stop arguing over inconsequential shit

hildegarde & hancock: nobody wants to know the fucking petnames hancock can come up with. NOBODY. but he does. you know his ass uses hingan terms of endearment too. "my dear hildegarde" wasn't enough they told him go big or go home & he went unnecessarily big. sadly hildegarde finds it cute & calls him a lot of annoying petnames too but love is the most recurring one

7 - What circumstances are cause for celebration between you and your f/o? ex. Birthdates, anniversaries, holidays, accomplishments etc.? How do you like to celebrate these occasions?

absinthe & weiss: in post-canon they definitely celebrate emil & yonah's birthdays. absinthe & weiss push for celebrating nier & kainé's as well, & since neither of them know their own birthdays absinthe & weiss' birthdays end up getting celebrated on the same day which happens to be the day the gang got them to fully out loud say alright yes fine maybe we are married by vibes. now having lived as long as he has & knowing all that he knows absinthe is very particular about dates. it's not really celebrations much but he does go out & visit certain places every year to honour them & what happened there, like the shadowlord's castle or the lab. & eventually weiss starts tagging along

hildemet+hancock: emet is a lot more fussy about dates than he would care to admit... in part because he has a reason to care about time passing now. things don't blend in like they used to. he's very mindful of anniversaries & birthdays, though not particularly his own. was actually quite content when hancock "pressured" hildegarde into picking a birthdate since he didn't know his own, so he could "have one date to send him gifts for rather than sending them the whole year round" (it does not stop him it was an excuse for them to have something to celebrate). special modern au note that they celebrate all big jewish holidays 💥

⛓️‍💥

1 - Are you and your f/o subject to difficulties in your relationship? Does this angst take the form of interpersonal problems, or bigger circumstances happening around the two of you?

absinthe & weiss: i honestly can't really imagine them legitimately arguing... like, weiss is horrified when absinthe drains his own lifeforce to save others but he does consider it to be worth it so he can't be too upset. & absinthe doesn't like arguing. they're weirdly stable considering the people that they are

hildegarde & emet: (scared smile) they need to stop putting hildegarde in life or death situations man. the current biggest strain in their relationship is that he keeps ending up nearly getting himself killed & comes home an amorphous blob more often than not (the more his aether drains the more he struggles to maintain his form). they bicker a fair bit & have a LOT. of baggage. but it never comes anywhere close to earth shattering final days divorce

hildegarde & hancock: sighhh. they don't like to be verbally vulnerable with each other..... problems ensue. biggest difference is that hildegarde fucking despises lolorito & deeply deeply wishes hancock understood that poverty isn't the only bad thing that's happened to him. but it also took hildegarde a very long time to tell hancock literally anything about him (like. post shb) despite how much hancock's seen him get all fucked up. they have had pretty bad arguments though which seems uncharacteristic for them with hancock's whole thing being about keeping the peace with Everyone & hildegarde being a bit of a doormat by nature. hancock Did try protecting hildegarde exactly once, got hurt about it, & he had never seen hildegarde this mad before nor has he seen hildegarde this mad since. & it takes a lot for hildegarde to be outright furious

6 - If your f/o suffers a terrible fate in their source, did you nyx the angst altogether to give them a happy story? Does your f/o come from an otherwise normal story and you chose to pile on the angst voluntarily?

(smiles) what do you think :3

as with all things i stick to canon & simply elaborate or stack things on top so the impact of everything remains relatively the same. i absolutely hate undermining the impact of things like character death if they happen for a reason that i can get with (you know, unlike yotsuyu & other such cases) just because i want a character to live. i have to find much more convoluted ways for them to live in the end, because i'll be real i genuinely think hildegarde would've died in post shadowbringers if he didn't have emet in his head for a while, & it has to fit canon to a degree. that said

absinthe & weiss: didn't nyx anything, i merely gave him a freaky ass powerful wizard-scientist who can & will give him a physical vessel to avoid him evaporating into the general atmosphere LMAO. i don't think i added much angst it's mostly just the consequences of absinthe as a character. the angst comes from what he knows & what he's been through, & the fact that he knows things about weiss' past that weiss doesn't AND that weiss cares about him enough that seeing absinthe hurt affects him

hildegarde & emet: sighhh takes long drag. there's a shit ton of angst in canon & i added a shit ton of angst on top of that because hildegarde is just... so miserable for so so long. & emet is also so miserable. it kinda had to be all miserable for a while. but they get a happy ending bc i fucking said so!!!! #yaoiwin

hilde & hancock do actually get some added angst because it's funny LOL! get tormented blond man with the beautiful eyes!

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love🫶🏻

I’m curious to know your personal favorites! I’ll treat it as a fic-rec hehe

You are so cute! I love you! 🩵

Hm… this is a tough question cause I guess it depends on the day and what I’m feeling. I mean all my stories are honestly the same in terms of my ship being together and it ending happily, but the journey and the way I choose to tell it can differ. What exactly are quintessential lots of love fics? I guess currently I will go with these (I’m only doing Det Co ones cause I know you’re in this fandom, plus I don’t write enough for my actual otps in other fandoms)

In no particular order cause I don’t really have a true top five:

I Can Make Your Heart Race: They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so then what’s the way to a woman’s? Obviously you have to get her heart racing. In which scare tactics does little to impress a scientist, instead it backfires on the detective. Well, maybe not completely. Rated G (ShinShi)

It’s really short, but I find myself thinking about this fic some days. Maybe cause it is a fix it fic of sorts since my heart will never keep the canon ship in tact, and it’s fluffy with the potential for more. They’re my most slowburn ship and it kills me

I Hate Accidents, Except When We Went From Friends To This: Post Black Org and Permanent Antidote. A month-long look into the relationship of Shiho and Shinichi. Written with prompts from flufftober on tumblr. Rated T (ShinShi)

I was actually proud of how I was able to follow not one, not two, but 31 whole prompts! Even though every chapter is super short, but still. I’m the worst at following prompts, so I got excited I was able to get through this and keep my brand of fluff

Lo Lo Love Me: The change from fighting to be Shinichi again, to being her Edogawa. Or the fic where Shiho becomes a little delusional.

“You’re not him.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not Edogawa Conan. You’re Kudo Shinichi.”

Rated T (CoAi but technically it’s ShinShi)

Truthfully my ending for this verse is just the first chapter, this idea wouldn’t die and I still find myself thinking about it some days. I think I ended it too soon but also don’t think I should’ve added to it beyond the first chapter. So yes I still think about revisiting it all the time

You Belong With Me?: It’s a matter of principle. She was here first and they grew up together for goodness sake! Of course people can change their minds, but she waited patiently for two years with the title as his girlfriend, so how can it be over just like that? It’s not fair. Rated T (ShinShi told from Ran’s pov)

Who would I be if I didn’t include a song fic? And yes while I love that this love affair with this fandom began with Folklore Twist, but I really do have some strong feelings for Ran. And it’s all because of projection, so yes I want better for her and I want her to be her own knight in shining armor and let my queen be the one who gets the romance story book ending for once

A Day Out With The Kids: An impromptu date holds no weight against an already established play date with the Detective Boys. It doesn’t stop Kaito from wooing Shiho anyway, even with the children’s attempts at sabotage. Converting these CoAi shippers to board the kaishi ship may not be as difficult as one might think. It’s a good thing Kaito’s great with kids. Rated G (KaiShi)

I couldn’t resist okay, yes I know my most popular fic is probably one that’s rated E or even my fuck the childhood friends to lover fic. And yeah I do sometimes go back to those verses, but some days kaishi owns my entire heart. So yeah, I had to include one even though I know it’s a crack ship

(A bonus/ honorable mention would be the Fleeting Feelings verse. I would be unstoppable as a multishipper, but alas I’m not.)

[eliotquillon]

i mean the whole point IS that she isn’t serious about simon from the beginning? he’s not serious about her, either! he literally cheats on her with maia! they’re openly using each other—her to distract her parents from figuring out that alec is gay before he comes out to them, him to get clary’s attention. they’re a very different love story than clary and jace or emma and julian or tessa and will; that’s why it’s so gratifying to see them finally end up together because it’s a slowburn romance. it’s meant to be bumpy. malec is way more toxic than sizzy lol and has a very similar will they/won’t they thing going on and nobody makes any real complaint about that. god forbid a female character not immediately swear undying fealty to her love interest i guess lmfao

also isabelle 100% has a purpose in the books beside ‘just saving jace’ — she’s a foil to clary, her relationship with alec (and her very strained relationship with her parents) is very important, she’s the closest we have to an archetypical ‘good shadowhunter’ (jace has Valentine Issues and alec is dealing with serious repression/internalised homophobia—isabelle is very clearly meant to be the ‘normal one’ of the three, which is why she gets on so well with simon), etc. she’s a survivor of a very emotionally distant/borderline abusive childhood and grew up incredibly isolated from people her own age and her entire culture. she’s deliberately, performatively provocative (that’s why robert sends her to tempt people to stray at shadowhunter academy—isabelle is a good actress! she’s good at pretending to be something she’s not!). and isabelle is the one to stand up to clary in city of glass and tell her that shadowhunters don’t just exist in a vacuum—that the shit clary is doing with jace has real consequences for him and for their family and that she can’t just jerk people around. if ‘saving jace’ is all you took from isabelle’s book appearances then we are fundamentally coming at this from different levels of analysis. also clary’s internalised misogyny isn’t isabelle’s fault lol. it’s actually a really important thing for both of them that they have to WORK to become friends, and their friendship is a lot more significant because they have to work hard to get there. isabelle doesn’t exactly try hard to befriend clary at the beginning either but i’m not sure why you would blame isabelle for clary’s behaviour?

btw i’m not even a cassandra clare fanboy or anything! i have several problems with her books, her representation, the treatment of downworlder characters and characters of colour, etc. i recognise that the mortal instruments, even more than most of her other series, is deeply flawed. like trust me. i’m not crazy about the incest thing either. i only consider myself a fan of these books because i first read them 11 years ago and have crazy nostalgia.

but with all due respect you seem to have…completely misunderstood book!isabelle? and also this post? she’s supposed to be flawed. i LIKE that she’s flawed. i list several of her flaws in my original post! my complaint about tv!isabelle is less that she got reduced to ‘the hot one’ (i’m very aware that she wears similarly over the top outfits in the books—although we are heavily encouraged to agree with simon’s assessment in city of glass that her behaviour is largely an attempt to protect alec, and jace’s observation that she’s overcompensating because she feels insecure about not being small and dainty; it’s very telling that in her idealised dream vision she’s dressed more casually and has cut her hair to her shoulders) and more a general frustration that the things i loved about book!isabelle got stripped away. i don’t really have a problem with the show’s existence or it changing things. i complained specifically about show!isabelle in this post because book!isabelle is my favourite fictional character of all time and it is frustrating to have her name slapped onto a completely different character. especially when the other tv versions were way more in line with their book characterisations. this isn’t a dig at emeraude—who fwiw i’ve always said is a huge improvement on jemima west’s likeness of isabelle—it’s about characterisation.

i have no desire to get into discourse about which version of them is ‘better’; that’s why i made a vent post that i never really expected to get any notes. i’m not a tv fan and i don’t expect tv fans to be book fans. but like why would you come on a post that is specifically about how much i love book!isabelle to say ‘btw i hate book!isabelle’ . make your own post!

not sure i will ever forgive shadowhunters tv for what they did to isabelle lightwood and i’m so serious btw. isabelle loves alec so much that magnus’s birthday gift to him is a protection spell on her. she dates boys she knows her parents will disapprove of because she thinks it’ll distract them from figuring out alec’s sexuality + giving him shit for it. she finds out that simon has been cheating on her with maia and still her first reaction to finding out that jordan was maia’s abusive ex is to threaten to beat the shit out of him for going near her. in edom clary dreams of having a normal family and simon dreams of fortune and fame and alec dreams of being an accomplished warrior and isabelle only dreams of the people she loves being happy and healthy and themselves. she’s stubborn and loyal and haughty and funny and vain and curious and tempestuous and so, so quick to put the people she loves first for all that she likes to pretend otherwise, and the show threw so much of it away because they chose to focus on her being the 'hot one' who likes to flirt with everyone and make fun of alec. i am killing and fucking biting Why would you fucking do this to her

[caxde]

dazed and confused | eddie munson x reader

summary you work on Hawkin's music shop, and Eddie is a regular costumer. Your friends (Steve and Robin mostly) help you to gain confidence and flirt with him.

word count: 8.1k (i think is the longest oneshot ive ever done, yikes)

warnings fem!reader (but i think i didn't use pronouns so u know ;) ), fluff, like lots of fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, use and metion of beer and cigarretes. english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!!

“You might actually have fun” He said for the millionth time, following you around as you restock the shelves. 

“Oh, I dunno Harrignton.” You answer, glancing quickly at him. “Doubt I’ll do.” You remark, keeping track of what you needed to get from the back, you counted and scribbled down on your little notebook. 

“C’mon, just a couple hours, if you’re not having fun I’ll drive you back home myself.” You were getting slightly annoyed at him now, he could have chosen any day to come and mess around at your job, but as it turned out, Saturday was your busiest day, and it was release week for a lot of musicians, December approaching as it were. 

“Dude, seriously, you can come in here and annoy me, but please not today?” You begged as you walked behind the counter, leaving him waiting as you disappeared for a few seconds crouching down at the boxes and picking up a promotional poster that you begged your manager would let you keep. 

“If I leave, will you agree to come?” You scoff away at his question and the only response you received was him messing his hair up. 

“Why do you insist on me to come?” You demand, daggers shooting away at him. “Take Robin! Robin loves parties.” You say, truly meaning it, hoping he would listen to you. 

“Robin finally has a date!” He announces as a proud father, and you almost drop all the vinyls you were holding. 

“Shit! Really?” You ask with your face in complete glee, a smile growing in between your cheeks. 

“Yeah! Vickie asked her after she dumped that blonde dude, so, I need a wing-woman!” He explains, almost screaming even if you can tell he was aiming for a whisper, he was so excited it got to the best of him. 

“Why though?” You still didn’t understand why he wanted you there. 

“Okay, jesus…” He finally admits, sounding defeated as he walks behind you, you needed to restock more vinyls in the rock and metal section. “Nance is gonna be there… And… You know…” 

“Oh…” You said as you realized that he needed a little push to get the one that got away back. “Wait, didn’t Nancy dump you at a party?” You demand as you walk back to the section and start organizing the pressed music into different artists. 

“Well yeah, thought it would be kinda nice to-'' He cuts himself off, shaking his head and locking eyes with you. “Please?” 

“Jesus Christ….” At that moment he knew you had agreed, and his smile grew bigger. “Yeah, ‘kay, but you owe me, like… big time!” You shout at him, finger raised and everything, he smiled and nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up a six-pack or whatever you wanna.” He says as he’s leaving. 

“Or you could actually buy something for once!” You scream at him, too far away to actually hear anything you’re saying to him. “Asshole” You mutter under your breath. 

Keeping your brain focused on the task at hand, you looked at the bands that you had in front of you, Deep Purple, Iron Maiden, Metallica and Led Zeppelin. Your finger tapped the last one’s cover, thinking if you needed to get more stocked. And how in love you were with the last album. You were gonna buy yourself a copy as soon as you could. So you took a little bit longer to actually put them together, making sure everything looked nice and was easy to find, as you spin rapidly to get back to the counter, your body slams into someone else’s. 

“Shit, sorry!” You say as you look up at this boy’s face. You froze on the spot. 

“S’okay, wasn’t looking.” He says, grabbing your arm, pushing you back , looking at you, making sure you are okay. His brown eyes looking directly at yours. Long curly hair framing them. “You okay?” He asks, inclining his head slightly to the right. 

“Ah, yeah, yeah. Great. Um, if you need help with anything…” You stumble as you talk, you have only seen him from afar, never actually spoke to him, you didn’t even know his name. Only thing you knew was this, he came every Thursday and looked if you had anything new, so it was shocking to see him on a Saturday . 

He didn’t talk much when he checked the things off, biting his lower lip, he would nod and search for the money you asked for. 

“Actually, do you have the um… Perfect Strangers cassette? You know it’s-” You feel bad from cutting him up, but you get excited for a second. 

“Deep Purple? Yeah!” You say, happy to help him, he smiles at you and you can’t help your face as you copy his expression. “Great album…” You whisper as you relook at the shelves.

“Yeah, I Know, I lent it to a friend, and I don’t think I'll ever get it back, so…” He explains, as he follows you, you chuckle at his explanation as you nod. 

“Happened to me with Mötley Crue’s Too Fast For Love '' You say to him, at which you see him smile to himself. “Aha!” You let out as you see the little cassette, you point your feet to reach when you feel him behind you, arm higher than yours, chest closer than before, your cheeks growing red at an alarming rate as he grabs it before you, and you look up at his hand, three silver rings decorating his fingers. 

“I got it” He says, once you turn to him. He smiles as he messes with his hair, and when he realizes that he’s a little too close to you for a stranger, takes an apologetic step back, and signals you to go first, bowing his head low. You whisper a thanks as you walk to the register. 

“Do you… Um.. want anything else… uh..?” You ask, hopping he introduces himself, so you can stop referring to him in your head as hellfire boy 

“Um, Eddie.” He says, you smile as you hear his name, he does the same as he looks at you. 

“Do you need anything else, Eddie?” You ask, cheeks flushed pink and a smile on your face. 

“No, no, that’ll be it.” He says, searching for his wallet in his back pocket. You nod, and as you grab a little bag for his cassette, you leave a Deep Purple patch in the bag, a little gift for him. 

“Okay then, here you go.” He left a ten dollar bill and before you could give him the change he gestures a no with his head, smiling as he does so. 

“Keep the change, and thank you.” He says grabbing the bag, giving you one last look. 

“See you!” You say. 

“Yeah, see you.” He says, as you watch him leave, biting your lower lip containing your excitement. 

-

You were retouching your make-up in the passenger's seat, nervously fussing as you tried to apply mascara over the speed bumps. 

“Jesus Harrigton! Don’t wanna poke my eye out.” You say to him, as he slows down for once. 

“Sorry!” He says again. “Don’t know why you’re so nervous now…” He says under his breath, stopping at a red light, at which you take advantage of and draw in your waterline, black. 

“S’nothing.” You mumble, evidently lying. You can feel his questioning stare and you chuckle. “What?” 

“Someone’s happy…” He teases, as he leaves the red light you see him smiling at himself. “Oh… did he finally talk to you?” He says teasing you. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about…” You whisper, dismissing his tone and smudging your eyeliner a bit, playing with your hair next. 

“Oh come on! I saw him in the shop eyeing you!” He says, you can’t help but smile.

“Damn it Steve!” You confess in between laughs. He parks his car as you continue. “He did… he’s nice..” You admit, playing with your ring nervously as you wait for him to stop the car. 

“Did you… I dunno, introduce yourself? Ask for his number? Flirt a little?” he keeps teasing you as he leaves the car, six-pack on his left hand. You slam the door shut as you let out air. 

“I panicked, only got his name…” 

“God you’re bad at this.” He chuckles, as he gives you an opened beer bottle. 

“Welp, you are supposed to teach me so…” You tease back, taking a quick sip. 

“Fuck off…” He says, opening one for himself, walking up to the noisy house. 

“I did give him a little gift, and he tipped, so maybe he’ll remember me next time…” You say looking at the floor, drinking a little bit more. Getting more nervous as you saw more and more people hanging about the place you were going. 

“Sure he will, you’re unforgettable!” He says sarcastically. You show him your tongue in a teasing response. 

It really wasn’t your scene, corny music, people making-out as soon as you opened the door could be seen, you really wished Robin was here, so you could speak to someone when Steve inevitably disappeared with somebody else. He walked to the kitchen and you followed him, you could see him searching for her, and you couldn’t resist but to tease him, whispering loverboy to his ear, he playfully punched you. But as soon as he saw her, he was left speechless. 

“You really like her, huh?” you asked him, eyes in the opposite direction. 

He nodded as he looked at you. You smiled, happy to keep watch in the kitchen. 

“Go!” You said to him, he moved his head no and looked at the ground, playing nervously with his hair. 

“No, no– I ah… Leave you alone?” he mumbled as he tried to keep his cool. 

“It is okay Steve.” you reassured him. “You go talk to Nance, I’ll make sure the beer is drinkable.” You say to him ironically, he chuckled and muttered a thank you to you as he left. 

You nodded at the two idiots. 

You knew Nancy still liked him, so you enjoyed seeing the two idiots in love talking to each other, from afar. It was also fun to tease him back. 

So you did as you promised, you stayed put with a drink in your hand, and when it finished, you refilled, holding onto hope that Steve won’t be long, and proven mistaken when twenty minutes pass. You grew bored of Bowie’s music, not that you didn’t like “The Rise and Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars” but you had been playing that for two weeks over at the shop, courtesy of his new movie he starred in, and you just needed a break. As you searched for a distraction, you saw an abandoned packet of Camel on the kitchen counter, jackpot. 

You could smoke it right there, but some fresh air would keep you more refreshed and awake. 

So you stumbled your way across, walking through the maze of drunken people, or couples grossly making-out. Hopefully, the back door was open and nobody was blocking it, so you could breath in the cold air, your beat up cropped Zeppelin shirt wasn't that much help against the cold, but you didn’t seem to mind, it actually felt kind of nice, to be able to feel the warmth the cigarette left in your fingers. 

Red cup in one hand, cigarette in the other, you looked out at the yard, and almost dropped them both. 

He was here. And he was looking curiously at you. He smiled as he waved to you, and you did the same, dragging the smoke out of your fingers, and as you see him approaching you can’t help but mutter shit to yourself. 

“Hey” He says, lips parted from the cold, rosy cheeks for the same motive contrasting his pale skin. 

“He-hey” You mutter, readjusting your voice, since it’s been a while since you spoke out loud. 

“What are you doing here?” he says, hugging himself, leather sleeves poking out of his jean vest. 

“I, um. A friend needed some luck…” You say vaguely, not believing that he was actually speaking to you, and not really caring why he actually was doing so. 

“Oh, he around?” He said, looking behind you, moving his head around, your eyes fixated in his neck. 

“Ah, no. He left with the girl a while ago. Hopefully he actually gets lucky this time…” You say more to yourself than to him, at which you catch him chuckle, and you smile in replay. And you can’t help but look at him again. You get lost in his chest, more importantly, in a newly stitched up patch, he notices you looking at it and smiles at you. 

“Found it in a bag…” He says looking at you, grin in his face. “Thank you, for it.” He continued. 

“Thought you might like it.” You admit, your cheeks were getting warmer, despite the cold that surrounded you. 

“I do, thank you stranger.” He said, as he winked at you, you nodded, words failing you in that moment. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“What you drinking?” he asks, reaching for the cup, and you let him take a sip of it, sight locked in his lips. “Mmh, nice.” He says, getting closer to you, offering his arm. “Wanna get more?” he asks. At which, you take his arm and head inside, not really believing that it was really happening, or what was actually going on. 

-

“Enough about my date! I wanna hear about yours!” Robin’s voice comes through the speaker of your telephone, you laugh in shock. 

“What date?” You ask, and for whatever reason she laughs at the question. 

“Oh come on” She says, ironically, you can tell she’s moving her head side to side. “Steve told me you weren’t alone when he came down” She whispers, and your hand reaches your eyes, shame in your heart. 

“God dammit Robs… He’s so nice… And it wasn’t a date, ‘cus a date would mean that he asked me out, which he hasn’t, and honestly, I think he was just trying to be nice ‘cus stupid Steve left me alone with people I don’t really know.” She was laughing again, you were getting flustered at the memory of him. 

“Or maybe, he wanted to get to know you, you know?” 

“I dunno… Don’t wanna create expectations and then…” 

“Yeah, yeah…” She finishes for you. “Well, tomorrows a Thursday, so maybe you’ll see him again?” She asks with teasing in her tone. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

-

It had been months since you had such calmness in the store. So much so, you were the only one working today, could choose the background music, and since everything was clean, stocked and organized, you could just enjoy the moment.

 Perfect stillness. 

So you crouched down to the little crate that you hide behind the counter labeled workers shit. You roamed through it, hoping to find something that would catch your eye, passing from album to album, admiring every cover art, because you quite literally had nothing else to do. As you emerged back up, you had a dilemma in front of you, and you let your head rest in your hands as you looked down at both albums. Rumors by Fleetwood Mac was an exceptional album, you had no doubt about it, but… Led Zeppelin’s self titled one was eyeing you. 

“Where to start, where to start…” You sang to yourself as you thought, completely lost in possibility. 

So it really shouldn’t surprise anyone, that his voice surprised you enough to jump as he spoke, making you both laugh. 

“No music?” He said before you jumped, and after a quick chuckle and apology he continued. “Sorry, I meant… You always have music playing.” he came back, and with him, your pink cheeks and nervousness. 

“I.. Well yeah, but I usually just agree to whatever my colleague wants, and I almost never have the choice so now I don’t really know what to start with…” You explain to him, fast, almost rumbling as he smiles at you, big brown eyes looking tenderly as he does so. 

His hands find their way over the counter, close enough to yours to make you unconsciously bite your lower lip, as your eyes follow them up. Hands, wrists, arms, shoulders, neck, long hair, eyes. His head looked down, as his fingers moved to grab the album on the left, focused as he read what they had inside, while the only thing you could actually focus on were the veins in his arms. 

“Didn’t think you liked Fleetwood…” He mumbled, you leaned closer, without really thinking about what your body was doing. 

“Well, Steveie’s voice… She truly is magic.” You whisper, more to you than to him. He lights up as his eyes meet yours, smiles in both your faces. 

“Wouldn’t really know…” He confesses, pulling his body closer, forearms resting atop of the counter, whispering to you. “Haven’t really given them an opportunity…” He says, eyes travelling from your eyes, to your lips and neck. Even if you were nervous about having him that close, you were so happy to be able to talk to him about music! of all things… You were just really enjoying the moment. 

“Well, you gotta.” You replay with a shy smile, your eyes completely lost in his. He nods as he taps the vinyl. 

“You got ‘em in cassette?” He asks, and as you nod you pull back a bit, looking at your shelf. You had it saved in case someone called <<Lauren>> would pick it up, but it's been three months and she hadn’t, so you decide to rip the post-it off and throw it in the thrash. You feel his sight locked on your back, and that might be why you move slower, or why your waist turns more than it needs to. 

“There you go.” 

“Thanks.” He says, reaching for his wallet. You put your hand forward, signaling a no with your head as you smiled softly at him. 

“On me.” You say, pushing the little plastic box to him. He smiles as he reaches for it, fingers touching yours, electricity between both of you. 

“You don’t have to…” He says, still holding it, brushing your index finger, eyes still locked with yours. 

“I want to.” You reassure him. 

He nods, and mutters a thank you. You look at him as he starts to leave and you go back to the vinyl, taking it out of its envelope, when you hear his sneakers turning around. 

“When do you get off?” 

“8.30.” You replay, shocked at the question. 

“You’ve got plans?” 

“No” 

“Wanna come to The Hideout?” He says, and you could swear he was the one getting flushed. “My uh… My band plays there at 9.30” He adds, your smile grows bigger. “We usually do it on Tuesdays and its a smaller crowd, but he got an offer to play today.” He says excitedly, rumbling like you do. “You can tell your friends” You can see him getting nervous, just like you did when he first approached you. “Or you know-” 

You cut him off. 

“I’ll be there.”

-

“So, it is a date?” Robin said once you arrived at the small bar. 

“No, I mean I don’t think so…” You replay, your eyebrows furrowed, as you looked at her smiling, teasing face. 

“But he did ask you?” She continues, with the same tone. 

“Well, yeah, but… y’know, a date is like, only two people, and you talk to the other person, and get to know them, right?” You try to rationalize, as you ask for help by looking at her. “I mean, he probably was just being nice, or… or friendly? Like, y’know, I gave him a tape so he invited me and a friend to come around…so technically… not a date?” She didn’t give you an answer, she just shrugged her shoulders and laughed, heading to the entrance of said bar, you followed her, not any calmer, not one bit. 

“Or he just wanted to show off, leave you impressed and then ask you out.” She says as you reach the actual bar, and as you push her shoulder in a friendly punch, she stumbles into a blonde girl you can’t really see, so you apologise, until you see Robin’s smile grow bigger in her face. “Well hello…” She muttered. 

“Hey cutie.” Vickie. You smiled at the sight of them, pure adoration between their eyes. They took a bit of time to eye one another until they remembered you were there, and you couldn’t help but laugh at them. 

“God, you two are cute…” You say, as they giggle back at you. “Do you idiots in love want anything?” 

“Nah” 

“We’re good, thank you!” Vickie says, finally looking at you, at which you nod. 

You walked back to the bar, glancing at your friend, and a smile on your face. You were incredibly happy for her, she had been patient, and she deserved it more than anyone, and Vickie seemed so nice…

“Waddu want, sweetie?” The bartender's voice snaps you back into reality, and you quickly look at him. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry.” He nods, and so do you. “Um, just a beer, please?” You say, maybe a bit too low you realize, but he seemed to understand you just fine. You reached into the inside of your jacket pocket, and once you had your wallet in your hand and looked at the man handing you the beer he shakes his head no. 

“Already taken care of, sweetie.” He says, pointing at Eddie on the stage, waving hello at you. You blush a little bit as you salute him with the bottle, mouthing a small cheers to him, and he smiles back with a thumbs up.

“Thank you” You say to the bartender, and he nods in response. You walk back to your friends as you check the time on your wrist, it was about to start. “Hey, d’you wanna get closer?” They both nod, and you march on, and surprisingly, and even if the venue wasn’t that big, it was packed tonight, so you decided to stay in the third row, where you could be more comfortable, and still have room to dance. 

“Oh shit, almost forgot.” Robin said, grabbing your elbow. “Steve gave me back your camera, says it should work now.” You smile as a thank you. The kids had begged you to trust them with this project, and hopefully they did a good job. 

“Is it loaded?” You ask, eyeing Eddie in the shadows. Light still not on. Robin nodded in response and you got back to admiring him. 

When the lights did finally light up, you were amazed. His arms were in full display, tattoos visible, and so were his veins, as he grabbed his guitar with force. The light bounced around his skin, making him look more defined than you had ever seen him. Just some hours ago you had seen him, but truly never like this. He ditched his usual Hellfire shirt, and wore a black button up, held together by the last button, so the red light that the stage had travelled down his chest, and what was worse, he was smiling. He was smiling directly at you. 

So you spent the rest of the gig taking pictures of him, as he looked at you, and on occasions, Robin photographed you smiling at him. 

-

“You really are their mom, huh?” You tease Steve as he hangs around the counter, waiting for the lunch club to actually pick what they want. 

“Shuddup.” He says, slightly annoyed, a smile on his face as he looks back at them. “And I prefer being called a babysitter, thank you so much.” He answers, nodding his head, making his hair bop up and down. 

“Okay… Babysitter Harrington…” He scoffs with a short laugh, as do you. You look down at the photos again, the kids developed them for you and you were in awe. And yeah, they had a million questions that you avoided. 

“So…?” 

“What?”

“Oh come on, you're smiling at them!” Steve points as he says so, grabbing one of the photos that shows a very happy you looking at him on the stage. 

“It’s nothing” You mumble, trying to not give it any importance, covering them with a piece of paper. 

“Oh, fuck off. You might be able to bullshit Henderson or Wheeler but not me.” He declares, looking at you. You could tell that he won’t stop annoying you until you open your mouth. “And besides, Robin told me some things. I mean she was more focused on the whole Vickie of it all, but y’know” 

“Yeah, I know. They really look happy Steve…” He asks you to continue with a raised eyebrow. “I just don’t wanna make a fool out of myself. He was just being nice. Not a date. Just him inviting me to his little gig.” As you say that you can’t help but recall him, in the stage, absolutely adoring the applause and praise he got, and how he soaked the light red up, making him look angelic and demonic at the same time. 

“Look, maybe he does want to ask you out, but he's too shy to do so?” He asks, looking at you, reassuring with a little tap on your shoulder. “Like you…” 

He gets interrupted by a little curly haired kid wearing a snapback. 

“You guys talking ‘bout Eddie?” Dustin asks, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Hello to you too kid.” You answer in return. “What is it gonna be Henderson?” You ask, in your customer service voice as he hands you over a little tape. “Huh, didn’t take you for an Iron Maiden fan Dustin.” You say as you scan it.

“Well…” He starts to explain as he reaches for his pocket. “It’s actually a present, y’know, an end of campaign gift for our DM.” He says excited, as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh, nice.” You smile back at him. “Sure he’ll like it.” You reassure him, even if you didn’t understand a word that came out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, Eddie said he loves this band!” Mike adds up, having found his way into the conversation, with another tape in his hand. 

“Oh, Eddie the um…?” They all nod, knowing what you were going to ask. “He actually already has this one…” You say with an apologetic look in your face. 

“Shit. You sure?” Dustin asks.

“Yeah, he ordered Somewhere In Time two weeks ago, and paid for it, he’ll probably come and collect it today or tomorrow.” You say as you turn the monitor to the kids, who stare with awe at the amount of data collected. 

“You keep track of him?” Mike asks, accusing you of something. 

“What? No.” You spit back at him. “I’m just good at my job.” You say as you stick your tongue out at him. “You could get him some uh… Black Sabbath, y’know?” You ask as the two little kids nod at you. You take a second to run to the back of the store and grab some of the ones that you still had to restock. “So one Seventh Star to go.” You say as you hand it to them, who look incredibly nervous now. “What? I can give you guys more options if your not-” 

They cut you off as they snatch the tape out of your hands and throw the bill at you as they run out of the store. 

“Who raised you?” You ask more to yourself than anyone else, as you're left there, in awe and shock, looking at Steve for some answers. 

“Your boy just got in.” He says as he nods to him, who was heading to the hard-rock section. “See ya!” He says as he runs to reach the little kids. 

You’re left alone and feeling completely speechless. Asking yourself a million questions about what has just really happened, but too focused on getting your job actually done, even if you were just distracted. 

So you recovered the box in the back with everything that you had to restock, being interrupted by a soft smiling Eddie standing at the counter, tapping along at the song that’s playing in the background. 

“Hey Eddie.” You salute him, shyly, leaving the box on the counter. 

“Hey stranger.” He said back, a smile growing bigger. 

“I’ve got your tape, hold on.” You say as you look for it on your shelf. 

“No rush.” He says, locking his eyes in you, watching patiently as you head back, and he really was looking at every detail of you, from the way that you walk to the way that your hair moved as you did so. He was blushing now. 

When you come back with it, you find him with the photo that Steve had in his hand, smiling as he looks at it, looking back at a very flustered you. 

“Oh…” Is the only thing that you manage to say. 

“You look good…” He mutters, with a whisper of a voice. 

“I um… thanks!” You answer, not really sure what to do next. So you leave the tape down and uncover the rest of the photos. “I took some of you and… Robin, well, the tall girl that was with me also took some and uh well… Wasn’t gonna really show them to you ‘cause they're kinda bad but-” He cuts your rambling with a chuckle as he looks at all of them. 

He’s smiling with his teeth, blushing and stroking them softly, his ring decorated fingers passing through them. 

“They are good. You make me look amazing.” He praises you. 

“Well, you are.” You say before realizing what you were actually saying. 

Once you did, your face was warmer and for sure showing colors. 

He smiles and you do the same, with a soft laugh as your eyes lock once again, his body resting completely on the counter now, dreamily looking at you, back and forth between your eyes and your lips. 

“Thank you…” He says, grabbing the tape. A moment of silence, not awkward but comfortable, is shared between the two of you. “What is… what’s this song?” He asks, and you're left in shock. 

“You gotta know T.Rex…” You say back to him, as you see how he shyly moves his head no, burying his face in his hands in shame. “Eddie!” 

“I’m sorry! I don’t…” He says back at you, biting his lower lip. 

“Oh come on… D’you know, Jeepster?” No he lets you know. “Okay, how about um…Sinister Purpose by Creedence Clearwater Revival?” No again. “Jesus… Led? You know Led Zeppelin?” 

“Yeah, I know them.” You sigh in relief. 

“Dazed and Confused?” You ask him, it being your favourite song. 

“I kinda feel like that, yeah.” The palm of your hand reaches your face in frustration. 

“It’s a song…” You whisper, as you chuckle and he laughs as he apologises. “My favourite actually.” 

“Then I’m sure it’s a good one.” 

“That’s not enough!” You let him know, flustered in all kinds of ways. “D’you know what, I’ll make you a tape, so you can actually know them, and maybe you’ll like them.” You say as you get lost in him for a second too long. 

“Okay then, but, you’ll listen to it with me.” 

“Okay, sure.” 

“Grate, pick you up tomorrow when you close.” He says as he leaves with the new Iron Maiden tape under his hand. 

And it suddenly dawns on you, that did sound like a date. 

-

Finally, the last lady left the store. 

And the usual relief that you were used to feel when closing time came around, became a weird excitement. 

So, as a distraction or a routine, you did what you usually did once you were left to your own devices. Change the sign to closed, dial the volume up, and sing at the top of your lungs as you sweep the shop. 

You would normally have to do inventory and whatnot, but your co-worker Carla had already, she even closed the register, begging you to let her go early because she had a hot date. Of course you said yes, not wanting to tell her that you might have one too. 

Because, as usual, you were looking at Eddie’s proposition practically. 

You had gifted him a Deep Purple Patch, so he was nice to you at the party. 

You had given him a tape and he invited you to see him in The Hideout. (And bought you a beer) 

You had offered to make him a tape with your favourite songs and he said he wanted you there when he heard them. 

So technically, he was just being nice. 

But then again, people that are just friends don’t really do things he did. 

Steve and you were just friends, and he never drank from your cup. Eddie did. 

Robin and you were just friends, and she had never blushed when you complimented her. Eddie did. 

Steve and you were just friends, and he never made you blush so much your face became like a tomato. Eddie did. 

You grew frustrated of making stupid lists in your head, so you really tried to focus on what you were actually doing, to little to no use. 

So you focused on the lyrics, mumbling along them, screaming the occasional phrase that you enjoyed, dancing around and using the broom as if it were your personal microphone stand. 

So when you heard a little laugh, you jumped, almost falling to the ground. Broom touching it. 

Eddie had sneaked in, and had surely enjoyed the little show you had going on, dancing around not really caring, and he laid there, standing close to the entrance door smiling at you. 

“Sorry!” He said, with an apologetic gesture. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright! I was just um…” 

“Dancing” He finishes, resting his weight on a shelf, arms crossed in his chest, looking you up and down as you squad down to retrieve the fallen object. You nod with your cheeks pink, not really knowing what to say next, a comfortable silence, broken by his voice once again. “You need help?” 

“Oh, um.. no don’t worry, it’s just this corner I’ve got left.” You say to him, really trying not to get distracted by the way his arms look, tensed up, with his veins showing as his sleeves got caught up in his upper forearms. “I do have to go backdoor and grab my coat but it’s a second.” You say, as you smile wilde at him. He nods as he starts walking to the counter. 

“I got it.” He says. Before you can tell him not to bother, he’s already in the back rummaging through as you hear him humming to himself.

You try to finish your work before he gets out, and for whatever reason, maybe he’s distracted by the amount of unreleased material you guard, or maybe in a more mundane manner, he is just truly admiring your jacket, and picturing you wearing as he has seen multiple times from afar, he does just that, finding you in the back of the counter, turning the computer off and turning the stereo off, making sure you were missing nothing. 

His hands travel to your waist, squeezing it softly, his cold hands in contact with your warm skin, you feel the tingle that the goosebumps leave your skin, electricity flying between both of you.

You turn around surprised, almost tripping over him in a flustered reaction, you let out a soft moan that escapes your soft lips. He smirks as he sees you, close to his body, and your chest agitated, in contrast to his calm demeanor. 

“Your jacket” He whispers, lips to your ear as you turn to look at him, before you’re locking eyes to one another. 

“Th-thanks.” You manage to say, not knowing how to ask, being this close to him. 

-

If you were being honest, you had pictured his home a million times, each of it different to the last one, but you would have never guessed just how perfect it was for him. 

A small trailer, fit with the strangest things that suited him. 

A collection of mugs lives in the walls of the entrance, decorating the yellow walls, T.V turned off. 

You were focused on the, each one different to the next, they didn’t seem to be in any particular order, but in an organized chaos that fitted him in an incredible manner. 

“Those are Wayne’s mugs.” He says, as he watches you with a smirk in his face, as you admire them. 

“They’re fun. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many mugs together.” He laughs as he looks at you once again, his sight lost in your figure and the way your body moves, standing finally in his living room. 

You fidget with the tape as you look around, not sure where to sit or where to go, your body relaxes as you see him come closer to you, beer in hand offering it to you. 

You nod as you take it, happy for the drink, excited for the company. 

“If you wanna, I can bring the stereo here, I usually keep it in my room ‘cus Wayne finds it annoying but…” He shakes his head as he’s rumbling, eyes moving back, from the floor to you. “Whatever you find more comfortable I don’t wanna uh…” You smile back at him, relating to his rumbling. 

You find that he’s not as intimidating as he shows to the world, you see his soft side, not really wanting to really push you into anything that would make you feel slightly uncomfortable or awkward or whatever that is the contrary of safe. 

So you nod, as you lock eyes. 

“I’m sure it's heavy, we can just go there, door open…” You say, letting him know your boundary for tonight. 

He guides you to his room, an organized mess lies before you. A big hand-sprayed Corroded Coffin banner hanging from one wall, multiple posters, some you recognized from your own walls at work, some laid in your own room, a desk full of various things, from ashtrays (full and almost empty in rotation), to a mechanic’s manual lay around. 

“Kinda messy, sorry…” He says, as he catches you looking around, amazed.

“No, actually… Kinda pictured you in a room like this.” You replay, playing with the tape in between your fingers, tapping it nervously. 

Looking down at it, you realize you clearly had a favourite band. Side A being filled with different bands, while the whole of Side B is just filled exclusively with Led Zeppelin.

You're getting embarrassed that he might hate it. 

“You okay?” He asks as he notices you, frozen in the spot, looking down at the mixtape. 

“Uh, yeah… Sorry… Just realized this might be shit.” You say, apologetically, raising your shoulders up. 

He moves his head no as he smiles at you, approaching as his teeth show, hair brushing his cheeks. 

“You’re overthinking.” He says, touching your fingers as he grabs the tape, spending more time than he needed to in doing so, enjoying your touch and the warmth you leave in his skin. 

The closeness doesn’t make you nervous, or produces butterflies, it actually calms you down. You feel as if he is a safe-space, not a reason for your anxiety to run through, and as you realize this, you can’t help your lips to widen your smile, eyes locked in his touch. 

“Is this one of yours?” He asks as he flips the tape, the cover was one of the photos you took on his gig. Him. Standing in all his glory. Low cut black shirt framing his torso, tattoos poking out. His eyes looking directly at the camera, directly at you. As he smiles, guitar in his hand. 

“Yeah, thought you might like it…” You see as he nods, a pink colour creeping in his cheeks. 

“You really make me look like a Rockstar…” He whispers back, as he moves to the stereo, and you clock three various sized amps in his room, so you giggle a little at the sight of them, he turns to you, tape still in his hand. “What?” He asks with glee in his face. 

“Am I gonna go deaf with…?” You ask as you point to them, he shakes his head no as he looks at them, chuckling as he does so. 

“Ah, no… No. They’re ah, one’s for the gigs, the big one is. The middle one has something that’s broken inside but it makes this cool reverb effect so we sometimes use it when we’re messing around, y’know.” He begins to explain, excitedly as he points and walks over to each one of them, smiling brightly at you. “And this little boy is the one that I actually use for the stereo. I mean it's smaller but it sounds amazing…” He says as he slaps it with a familiarity of having done this a thousand times. Maybe when it doesn’t work that well you think. 

So you nod, as you take a sip of the beer, sitting down in his bed, comfortable sheets to your touch. 

Sinister Purpose filled the room. 

The bass line that you adored made you move your head up and down at a very surprised yet attentive Eddie. You could see how his brain was centered in the lyrics as his hand tapped along his tight, mimicking what accords were  being used. 

And you did what you could never help yourself to stop. You whispered the words, coming in and out of song, enjoying it, maybe a little too much. 

“Sinister Purpose…Knocking at your door… Come and take my hand…” You continued as it was finishing. Enjoying the final riff, relaxing into his bed, taking another sip. He walked right where you were. Sitting next to you, clinging the bottles before he sips his own. 

“Not my usual, but it's a fun one.” He says, as you smile at him, nodding to his words. 

“I know but shuush, T.Rex’s coming!” You say excitedly. Tapping your hands to the rhythm

Jeepster was now playing, and you used your beer bottle as if it were a mic, fooling around making him laugh, once he learned the chorus, he would match your words, messing around with you. Swinging both of your heads, laughter filling the room. 

He didn’t know the first part of the verse, so he would shut up, looking, or in a better match of words, adoring you as you delight him. 

“The wild winds blow… upon your frozen cheeks… The way you flip your hip… it always makes me weak!” You start, and you see him smiling, as he mumbles the next lyrics, not really following along with the rhythm, even if your ring is marking it against the glass bottle. 

“‘Cos you’re my baby… ‘cos you’re my love… Oh girl I’m just a jeepster for your love.” Laughter and giggles coming from both of you, truly enjoying the moment, teasing one another, really meaning what you were singing even if the other was obvious to it. 

As the song was drawing to a finish, he started to give you his review.

“It’s a really dovey-lovey song, isn’t it?” He said, with his eyebrows raised, locking his eyes on you, hand resting in your lap. 

“Well, yeah. But it’s catchy. You were singing it!” You contradict his words by nudging him in his chest. As you do so you realize how truly close he is. His thigh was almost touching yours, yet his hand rested in it, electricity escaping from it. Your chests were in each others direction, eyes locked, undivided attention and, why not say it, adoration, clear for one another. “Besides, I am like that…” 

Your eyes darting away from him, looking down at your beer. Nervousness of having him close, or maybe to open up, you decide to take another big mouthful of it. 

“What do you mean-” You interrupt him. 

“Oh, I think you’ll really like this one!” You say excited. 

Children of the Revolution starts slowly. 

And you see him tapping along on your thigh, as he's enamoured by the atmosphere that the bass and guitar create. His eyes locked on the amp. 

��That…” He whispers as Marc Bolan’s voice fills the room. “Is awesome.” He finishes as he looks back at you. 

“Yeah, kinda reminded me of you, y’know…” You whisper as you play with the paper tag of the bottle, sowly peeling it off. “They won’t fool you, children of the revolution…” you smile as you so slightly twist the lyrics to fit him, and he shyly smiles in return, his teeth showing. A soft giggle escaping his lips, his body relaxing more, touching yours now. 

“You…” He doesn’t find the right words for everything he would like to say, so he resigns with letting his thumb stroke your thigh in a repetitive pattern. 

It’s not only goosebumps, or warmth or electricity this time. But a sense that his hands belong in your body that fills you up. 

No words needed, you are aware that you both feel the same way. 

The Chain starts playing softly, and you see him smiling now. 

“Well, that one reminds me of you…” He says, looking at your eyes, though his flicker to your lips for just a moment. 

“They hated each other when they wrote it.” You replay, absentmindedly, whispering. 

“Well, I could never hate you…” He whispers back. His hand stopping the repetitive stroking pattern, frozen in place, fear in his eyes that you could ever think that. 

“Good…” You say, placing a lock of hair away from his face, touching it ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t-” He cuts you off. 

“I know.” He finishes, as he guides your body to his chest. A warm embrace shared between the both of you, your heart beating louder and faster in anticipation to everything you wanna say and do to him, but you are trapped under his weight. Enjoying the way he holds you, just as nervous as you are, you feel he is. A private moment, an intimate one at that. 

The tape clicks. Pulling you both away from the moment. Demanding a turn to its other side, so he breaks the hug, standing up as he readjusts his pants, your eyes following his hand and his movement. Staring at him, all of him. 

Finally, your favorite song starts filling the room, and as Dazed And Confused starts, you see him smiling. 

The suggestive bass line moves him to extend his hand to you, and you naturally accept it. 

Robert Plant truly feels like he’s whispering in both of your ears, as you begin to slow dance. 

“Dazed and confused for so long it's not true…Wanted a woman, never bargained for you” 

You feel his hands traveling to your lower back, holding you closer than ever before, smiling as he does so. Yours lost in the back of his neck, playing with his curly wilde hair. 

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers into your ear, his voice shaking as he does so. 

“Yeah.” 

“What do you do when you meet someone you like?” 

“Tryin' to love you, baby, but you go on hurtin' so…Soul of a woman was created below”

“Well, I talk, and I drink, and I make them mixtapes and free music and hope they’ll eventually like me back…” You whisper to him, moving your head away from his chest so you can look at him in his eyes, a declaration. You bite your lower lip in nervousness. “What do you do?” 

“I wanna love you baby, but you do me so bad…The worst little woman I once ever had, I've got to quit you baby”

“I uhm… I go to their workplace, hope they notice me, make them laugh and invite them to my gigs and…” He can’t bring himself to finish his words. He hadn’t been looking at your eyes, but was distracted, lost in your lips. 

So when he dipped down to finally close the distance, you gladly let him, finally kissing him. Not in a rush or in desperation. But in total adoration and care.

Truly in love with one another. 

You spent the rest of the tape kissing as you danced together, in no rush, both of you knowing this was just the beginning to a long story.

-

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference

-

<3

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hiii

do you know about any looong slowburn sterek fics preferably with smut? optional magic stiles👀

hehe thank you❤️

Hi anon. @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (25/25 | 434,625 | Explicit | Sterek) “I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” 

That was a bad word. Not found. 

Have. 

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. 

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs (31/31 | 203,776 | Mature | Sterek) “Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

*

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

Most (Im)Proper Proposal by Welsh_Woman (72/72 | 200,136 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski has not seen his childhood friend for going on ten years when Derek Hale insists on meeting him in a barely reputable inn to make a rather startling proposal…

The Hollow Moon by thepsychicclam (10/10 | 180,079 | Explicit | Sterek) It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all. 

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

Teenage Love Song by HaleHathNoFury (26/26 | 155,834 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is sick and tired of how much he fucks up. His dad is disappointed, his step-mom judges and his step-brother can do no wrong. It's not that he doesn't love them, he just gets so tired of being different. Now he's being moved lock, stock and barrel to Beacon Hills aka the town his mom grew up in so they can go live in his grandma's house and his father can get him back on the straight and narrow. 

It's going to suck.

B.E.A.C.O.N. by Mythological_Compendium (43/43 | 140,691 | Explicit | Sterek) "What better situation could there possibly be? We'll be pretty much stuck together, we can talk, drink and maybe later even…”

A scoff. “What? Have reunion sex?”

He shrugs. “It's been four years.”

Same Old Song and Dance by Halevetica (91/91 | 125,721 | Explicit | Sterek) Raised in the hunter life after his father was killed, Stiles hates werewolves. So when he lands a contract to kill the alpha of the pack that killed his father, he's elated. Until he runs into complications. The alpha is smart and strong and playing a game Stiles can't figure out. When secrets are revealed and new enemies made, Stiles must decide for himself what side he's on and who he can trust.

Bruises and Bitemarks by orphan_account (27/27 | 121,566 | Explicit | Sterek) Biologically, Stiles is weak. When he presented as an omega, he knew that to be the truth but that never stopped him from running his mouth as a defense mechanism. However, it could only save him so many times before he ended up pissing off the wrong person. After he's attacked in the parking lot outside of school, Stiles realizes he can no longer protect himself with just pure wit and sarcasm. When the attack lands him in the hospital, his dad forces him to pick between two options, report the alphas who attacked him or join a kickboxing gym run by omega rights activist and alpha, Derek Hale, a man Stiles has been in love with for many years.

Strip by Fessst (23/23 | 117,194 | Explicit | Sterek) "Singletail whip. Your favorite, isn't it?"

Red. Stiles felt nauseated as he bent over the bench. Red. The tremble only increased when his wrists and ankles were secured with leather straps. Red. He heard the Dom behind him give a sample crack of the whip in the air. Red. This would likely pierce his skin. So fucking Red.

"What's your safeword?"

Red.

"Stiles?"

"The... the stoplights, Sir."

Stiles's first introduction to the world of BDSM was a complete fiasco. You see, he had a crush on this ridiculously hot Dom and might have slightly exaggerated (ahem, lied blatantly) a few things on his questionnaire. Five years later the two meet again under a different set of circumstances.

A rare Alphahole by Fessst (27/27 | 110,538 | Mature | Sterek) Weed sale goes wrong and leaves Stiles with a dilemma of either facing prison or enrolling himself in Beta Rehabilitation Program for the next 6 months.

Anything beats prison, right?

Well...

Once he finds out that his assigned Responsible Alpha is the asshole who landed him in trouble, to begin with, Stiles is not so sure anymore. Especially since he has to fucking marry the guy! 

the trees call your name by spaceprincessem (2/2 | 107,656 | Mature | Sterek) “That was a long time ago,” Derek finally said, his face falling into its usual cool facade.

Stiles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Two worlds, right? Except, it had never really been two worlds at all. If they lived in two worlds, Stiles wouldn’t feel this unexplainable ache that ran deep in his bones. It had always been one world, with water slipping into the cracks, until there was an ocean between them. Stiles was always caught in the riptides, dragged out to sea where he was left to drown, sinking below the surface as Derek grew further and further out of his reach.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, forcing his lips to turn up in the corners, noting the slight crack in his voice, “long time ago."

aka the high school friends to lovers ranch au that no one asked for, but the one that i wrote anyway. This fic is finished, I will just be posting it in two parts!

Far From Any Road by doctorkaitlyn (28/28 | 103,835 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski is a young, chronically sleep-deprived detective who's manipulative and morally dubious at best. He's fairly certain that, in the years since he started working for the California Bureau of Investigation, he's seen most of the horrible things that the world could possibly throw at him.

But that's before a body turns up in an alley in Beacon Hills, brutally tortured, with a symbol burned into its back. It's quickly followed by a second and third, and when Stiles is unable to find any hint as to who the culprits might be, his father decides to bring in some outside help.

His name is Derek Hale, and he too has seen some truly horrible things, only some of them on the job.

Stiles hates him immediately. But Derek may be their only hope for solving the case, so Stiles reluctantly agrees to accept his help. 

As it turns out, neither of them have seen anything close to the depths of human depravity that await them in the woods and down the back roads surrounding Beacon Hills.

All a Pack Needs is a Little Spark by thornconnelly (21/21 | 82,884 | Mature | Sterek) Fork in the road fix-it that basically changes everything starting... an hour before the show actually starts. idk.

Stiles has a premonition that he NEEDS to go into the forest on a random night and saves Laura before Peter can kill her. Stiles doesn't know what he's gotten himself into, but he decides to help out the stray dog he finds in the woods, and then ends up joining a werewolf pack... as their Spark... because apparently he's got magic. 

What ensues is my whole-hearted desire for the Hales to have nice things.

[walkingdaryls]

what i honestly think it would be like to date loki

btw to those who have sent me requests...i see you! i promise. i’ve just been a bit unmotivated at the moment. so here’s this for now i guess LMAO

lemme just say right now...actually getting to the point of dating loki would take a long time

a LONG TIME

the enemies (but not rlly enemies) to allies to friends w tension to yearning / crushing on each other to lovers type thing

i mean have u seen how loki grew up??? he has major trust issues and doesn’t get close to people

i think it’d take a few years of extreme slowburn, arguing, and yearning w one another until feelings actually start to show

loki wouldn’t be afraid of staring - or eye contact, tbh

you’d just be sitting at one of tony’s famous parties, feeling slightly out of place while standing amidst a group of people avidly telling their own stories (let’s be real...it’s mainly tony talking)

and for just a quick second you let out a small comment that earns a couple grins and chuckles from the people around you

the conversation moves on, but you can’t help but feel loki’s intense gaze on you

and he doesn’t look away for a good ten seconds

or maybe you’ll just be eating dinner and loki will carefully watch you with soft eyes from across the table

he analyzes everything about you...

the way you raise a quizzical eyebrow, the way you avert your gaze away from him when his flirty comments make you nervous

the way you flip the pages of your book gently

the way your body just naturally leans into his touch

he notices everything.

everything.

loki most definitely is not a PDA person in my opinion . like at all

but the one thing he ALWAYS does. like ALWAYS, is have one hand placed gently on the small of your back

as a way to always somehow be touching you, and letting you know he’s there

(and ofc letting everyone else know)

but when alone, i honestly do think that touch is one of loki’s main love languages

he’s always touching your mf NECK

you don’t know why, and neither does he

but he’ll just come behind you and gently brush any hair to the side, and run his chilly fingers down your neck

or he’ll place a gentle kiss on your neck’s sweet spot after anything (after a heated make out session, after saying good morning, after dinner, ANYTHING)

he’s a neck guy ok i’ve decided

i also feel like loki is the type to act all macho and tough but he’ll be like

“actually, my dove, i guess you could paint my nails. i guess we could match. only green, though”

also this is a lil NSFW but loki is 100% INDEED A GOD NOT ONLY IN THE STREETS, BUT IN THE SHEETS AS WELL

he puts his powers to good use if ya know what i mean

seriously though, he worships you. WORSHIPS YOU. not only your body, but your mind, heart, and soul as well

anything intimate he goes into with pure passion because he believes it intertwines your souls together even more

ALSO i literally believe that loki, in the late hours of the night, while you two are sleepy in each other’s arms under the dim moonlight, will braid your hair gently

he’s quite good with his fingers

in more ways than one

after kissing you, loki likes poking you gently with his nose, then completely leaning into you, and pulling you into a tight embrace

i don’t see him as a huge cuddler while sleeping, but he ALWAYS is either holding your hand or having his arm/hand on you SOMEWHERE at least

always touching u!

now i know this is kind of depressing, but there would definitely be fights occasionally between you and loki

sometimes loki cant watch his tongue, and you end up storming out of the room in tears

or even if it’s something about him going out on missions and doing reckless shit and you’re TIRED OF IT

and he gets too defensive and you both end up stressed out and w raised voices, so you just storm out

but he never. EVER goes to sleep mad at you. he did it once and woke up feeling terrible and vowed to never let you two go to bed angry

by the end of the night, he’s kissed you wherever you’ve got tears falling, and whispers “im sorry, my dove” “forgive me, please”

you guys kiss a lot

like a lot

loki loves going on walks with you. it’s just something you’ve both normalized in your day to day routine together

you like to call loki “shakespeare” bc mf can be so dramatic sometimes and recite goddamn poems to you out of nowhere

but you honestly love it

LMAO sometimes i feel like during a make out session loki will just softly bite your ear for no reason

the first time u were like??? but you’re into it

you and loki out in public literally look exactly like that one picture of natalia dyer and charlie heaton

ya know...the one of them walking hand in hand on the streets, resting bitch faces, dressed all in black, big ass sunglasses, sharing earbuds

you guys truly are that couple

i feel like “mirrors” by justin timberlake just fits the relationship vibe. do u know what i mean?

BATHS TOGETHER. ALL THE MF TIME. he just loves skin on skin

loki loves you so much

like loki iS SO reserved around people (other than you) but if someone asks about you he will literally spill his heart out, talking about how you are truly an angel sent from heaven for him

he only has eyes for you. forever and always

soulmates

[pale-fairytales]

Domestic Au SkyStar fluff part 1

AHAHAAAA DOMESTIC AU HEADCANON TIME AGAIN SkyStar fluff edition 

I don’t know any specifics about this domestic au but I’m loving the actual fuck out of it. I feel like it’s a mix of angsty and fluffy, and maybe for this specific version of a domestic au, I’ll make a post to flesh out the specifics bc I feel as though it’s domestic with a twist??? Anywhoozles have some head canons uwu (plus a ficlet <3)

Love languages: Starscream= primarily Physical touch; Skyfire=equally quality time and acts of service

I feel as though Starscream has been incredibly touch starved for a long time, which prompts him to be very touchy. I think there’s specific conditions ofc tho; such as, he will be more touchy-feely with specific people than others and this is very much a trust thing. I feel as though pre-war/in a no-war universe Skyfire would be very very high up in the list. 

some of these headcanons may also be character exploring but my assumption is this; Starscream’s upbringing either involved a lot, a lot, a lot of physical touch as affection and so he naturally just craves it a lot, or he grew up with so little of it that it makes him seek (hehe) it out desperately, despite never wanting to admit how much he wants/needs it. 

Skyfire reads as a people pleaser to me. From what I’ve gathered he’s incredibly mild-mannered but wants very badly to be wanted. I feel as though his past isn’t touched on much (another note; I’m slow at consuming transformers content but I feel like he doesn’t appear much in many verses and he is grossly underrated and I will die for him) so my headcanons go as such; Being a flier in a society that puts emphasis on functionism/class, and given his impressive size, I feel as though he feels a need to belong. He wants to make other bots happy because it makes him happy. 

Skyfire and Starscream meet while studying some specific sciencey subject in this au, and think they won’t run into each other again once they complete their studying/certification, until BAM they wind up scientists in the same lab. Instant besties when they realize how much they actually have in common. 

It’s such a slowburn relationship and so blatantly obvious that they’re slowly becoming a thing that the people closest to them are just waiting for the announcement that they plan on becoming conjunx endurae. 

They absolutely go feral to defend each other no matter the au, fight me 

Skyfire isn’t violent, really, but it’s a general rule of thumb not to mess with Starscream or he will act. Vice versa, except Starscream can and will make life hell for anyone who hurts Skyfire’s feelings. 

Skyfire calls Starscream, “My starlight” but also uses names like “dear” or sometimes the more playful “Screamer”

Starscream doesn’t seem the type to use too many pet names strangely? I feel like he could come up with one very quickly, but he just chooses not to use them. He sticks with calling Skyfire things like “Sky,” or “Sweetspark” or “Darling. 

If cooking is a thing in this au, Skyfire’s your guy. I mentioned in another post that I thought Starscream wasn’t the greatest cook, but I feel like they, together, are a good match bc Skyfire can cook very well, while Starscream inevitably knows how to make it fancy/suited to the occasion/will know what wine to pair with it.

Things Pining Skyfire does that just make sense: memorizes Starscream’s favorite (cybertronian) coffee (or tea, I can’t decide which one he would prefer) order to surprise him with, makes sure to organize the lab in a way that isn’t too hard for Starscream to access (he’s happy to help but he knows it’s frustrating), plans little scientific expeditions for them to take and chooses really pretty or intriguing places. Every place he chooses, he chooses more with Starscream in mind.

Things Pining Starscream does that just make sense: purposefully rearranges the lab so that things are harder to access so he can ask Skyfire to pick him up to reach things (it becomes an unintentional, mutual thwarting of courting attempts that they laugh over later), asks questions in Skyfire’s area of expertise toward the ends of their shifts in the lab so they can spend a few more minutes talking. Sometimes accidentally disassociates and fantasizes about a future with Skyfire as Cybertron’s greatest pair of scientists. 

Pseudo/not-officially-dates-but-they’re-both-pining dates they go on; Stargazing. Visiting planetariums. I imagine their little pseudo dates are more lowkey. I also feel as though Skyfire is a secret partier but not like, a wild crazy partier; more that, in private and with the right people, he becomes a bit less shy, and a little more loosened up/fun-having. I feel as though he and Starscream sometimes meet up for a drink or two.  

[vrisrezis]

Aot crush and relationship hcs

Tw as I talk about suicide for reiners bit

- liking you makes him guilty (if you’re a soldier that is) and he doesn’t completely know what to even do about the situation

- as stares at you quite a bit and is self aware it’s obvious and tries not to too much

- you’re special to him

- probably tries to bring you along home with him and bertholdt before he even confesses he likes you but it probably works in his favor

- he honestly wants to marry you, a thought in his head before he even confesses his feelings

- not a blushy boy all the time but whos to say he can’t? You can totally make him blush

- when he finally decides to confess, he’s quite nervous about it but hey.. he’s lost a lot that was important you guys don’t have much time left

- a part of him wished he never became the armored titan so he’d have a longer time with you but at the same time if it weren’t for that he wouldn’t have met you (again if you’re a soldier but ok)

- if not hey it’s fine, he got to know you growing up and had a bigass crush on you that was so obvious that porco would purposelessly flirt with you to piss him off

- in a relationship, hugs and cuddles are quite often from Reiner you make him all soft and he’s such a cuddly man look at them big arms

- he’s the best hugger and cuddler tbh

- even if it looks weird, he likes to be the small spoon sometimes, just to be held and feel safe and protected for once

- he’s just so used to protecting you, which he loves and insists on doing but sometimes just wants to feel safe and protected by you

- likes patting your head

- gabi adores you so much, you guys are besties at this point

- gabis just really happy Reiner could find somebody to care and love for, it’s about damn time

- does not like you fighting, but if you have to then you have to

- will spoil you and buy you whatever you want, he does it cause he wants to spoil you though...

- when gabi finds this out you know she’s coming along for your dates more often to just get something

- dates are as often as you and Reiner can have them, which is more than most of the characters I’ve written for already

- you being with Reiner comes with a lot of emotional baggage that he doesn’t wanna put on you, he’s put it on a lot of people and he’s gotten a lot of people killed (who died in order to protect him such as bertholdt and ymir and etc)

- just be there for him, he doesn’t need you to understand he just needs somebody to not see him as a complete piece of shit so he can feel less guilty about it

- he has so much guilt :(

- so much to the point he doesn’t wanna live in this life anymore, but you being there makes it easier for him to have a will to live, for you

- at this point in his life he goes along with whatever you want

- he hates the idea of being separated from you at all

- yeah he’s a clingy boy in his adult years because he knows his time is coming up

- when he dies he says he wants you to look after gabi

- while the idea of dying sooner makes him feel better, can’t say he likes the idea of leaving you though he is constantly at a conflict between whether he’s happy to be the armored titan because he gets to protect you, die sooner etc or if he hates it cuz he can’t live longer to be with you and actually grow old with you

- even with his short life span, he wants to marry you

- it’s his final wish

- deep down Reiner wishes you could’ve started a family ;(

- he tells you to forget about him when he dies and start a family though tbh

- he loves you so much

(S4 eren does not exist, the reason for that is the whole reason he became a shit head, I won’t spoil for the non manga readers or those that aren’t caught up with the manga, but yeah)

- this blushy boy can’t help the nervousness he feels around you and doesn’t always know what to say around you

- you make him at a loss for words honestly which isn’t like him

- he thinks about approaching you often, but he gets so tongue tied

- mikasa usually has to do the talking and we all know she isn’t the most talkative gal ever

- he might try to impress you, even in his titan form he tries to impress you

- especially if it’s early on and it’s a new development he’s gonna wanna show it off

- doesn’t like being babied (as shown with mikasa) so he might wanna be the one to protect you and do things for you

- would die at being complimented or touched in anyway by you

- people don’t give him enough credit, he’s lost his mother, he has lost other people he grew to care for, he’s a protective boy and is scared to lose you or fail you

- he is oblivious to any feelings that might be returned

- he is usually one to cling around often as well

- he feels comfortable being vulnerable and crying in front of you

- but he still wants to seem like he at least knows what to do and he can protect you and whatnot but truth is he’s really scared he’ll fail you like he did with his mother and hannes

- this will be a slowburn for a longtime unless you say something eren is a loser with this shit

- even with armin and mikasas encouragements he is scared to tell you

- so he simply asks you questions to see if he can get any indication that you love him back, or at the very least like him

- it takes awhile since he’s dumb but when he gets an answer he wants, he asks you out

- being in a relationship with eren means him constantly being at your side and attached to you at the hip

- if not soulmates why always together ??

- FR though

- he likes having an arm around you if you’re shorter, let’s not forget as an adult he’s 6’0

- kisses your cheek often

- jealousy is also often, he has a lack of confidence compared to others sometimes but it’s nothing that’s an issue or anything

- you teach him what freedom really is, the freedom to love somebody in full, unconditionally, the freedom to have that feeling and it being the most amazing feeling

- play with his hair, he loves it

- not so much when it starts to get really long just cuz it gets knots sometimes but brushing his hair and putting it up it always nice and he appreciates it

- can we all agree he looks better with his hair up

- forehead kisses if he’s taller, it’s likely to be a newer development since he was quite shorter/average height back then

- while he hates being babied, he will let you take care of him if he really needed it

- but mainly likes taking care of you

- neck kisses don’t have to be a sexual giving hickeys thing and eren is living proof since he loves giving cute neck kisses

- likes to grab your hands and just kiss em

- first of all, keep in mind this man is like in his early/mid 30s and now like almost 40

- he’s not gonna have this schoolboy crush, he thinks it’s childish

- at least that’s what he says

- he can be caught staring at you often, very often

- like he’s so obvious damn, but it looks like he’s glaring at you

- only hange and Erwin can tell that he likes you with his stares gonna be real!

- finds excuses for you to be around him, maybe that’s having you in his squad now, maybe it’s helping him clean, whatever it is he’s getting you

- so maybe in his own way clingy

- he often talks to you in a similar fashion that he does with Erwin and hange, somewhat more “casual” in Levi’s terms, or kinda “teasing” as teasing as a levi can be and it not sounding like teasing

- deep down worries for you often and is protective, eren is already protective enough because of who he has lost just think about Levi he literally loses everyone

- tries not to be overwhelmingly protective, it can be annoying and would make him obvious

- also if you think it’s impossible to make him blush think again all you gotta do is hug him, he doesn’t even hug back but still!

- eventually decides you could die at any moment, life is short, especially in this world

- so he just asks you out and gets it over with

- so now you date!

- it’s hard not to worry for Levi with the constant bullshit he goes through, but it does feel nice to have somebody worry about him so he takes it

- he just doesn’t like the idea of you worrying about him too much since he’s supposed to be humanity’s strongest, he wants you to have some hope/faith

- likes patting your head, doesn’t matter how tall you are compared to him

- nobody would have the balls to call him short except for you

- we all know he isn’t good at his emotions but he will allow himself to be soft and vulnerable when y’all are alone

- doesn’t tolerate pda

- he also keeps the relationship mainly secretive because you could become a target, he doesn’t care if eren and the others know though

- likes kissing your hand a lot, or your neck/collarbone

- totally into pressing your foreheads together he finds it nice

- he at least can hug back now but that takes a long time lol

- Yes. you can squish his cheeks. Will he be extremely annoyed? Yes. Will he do anything about it? No.

- he’s so soft for you? God

- has nightmares about losing you often, so you share the same room so he feels better knowing you’re alive next to him

- or you comforting him back to sleep works

- will buy you things if he can, likes spoiling you when he can but not toooo much

- if you suggest turning into a titan he says no

- while a part of him is like yeah a guaranteed 13 yrs he also is like no he wanna spend the rest of his days with you he cannot allow it

- yeahhhh so maybe he’s got some naive hopes, but this time he thinks he can achieve them and finish this shit ... he can only hope

- not enough people write for my best boy, sad day ;(

- him with a crush though? Let’s be real he blushes quite a bit it annoys him though especially if you ever comment on it

- you just make him all mushy and god he loves you so much

- hand on his smushed cheek with a goofy smile and just stares at you, this happens all the time

- Sasha loves to remind him of that like everytime he does it

- very defensive of you, if anyone disrespects you they are catching these hands

- so it is likely fights with Jean bc he disrespected you (even if he was joking) are often

- he always tries to make you laugh, especially when you’re going through a rough time. He wants to see you smile and laugh and hates seeing you sad at all

- probably flirts with you, but he makes it sound like a joke so it’s hard to take him seriously

- he’s protective if he has to be, he’s not as strong as others but he can hold his own very well. (He’s canonly the fastest or at least one of the fastest, so he can get you out of situations fast)

- is overall even more goofy around you than he normally is because he just wants you laughing

- he can be clingy even while just being friends, often finds excuses to hang around you

- gets teased a lot by Sasha and Jean about his rather obvious crush

- sometimes he just daydreams about you so if anyone hears him sigh dreamily or zone out they know it’s cuz he’s thinking about you

- like seriously daydreams about you so much, the only time he isn’t is when he’s around you (which even then it still happens sometimes) or during like fights where he could die at any moment

- would die at being touched physically, or being complimented

- he will be like “yeah ofc I am haha ;D” in a joking way, but he is dying on the inside

- gonna be real confessing takes a longer time than anyone on this list like even eren and Reiner because he is so scared of rejection and losing the friendship you have he holds it so close to him

- it’s extremely important since it’s not often he ever likes somebody? Plus you make him feel the happiest he’s ever felt like? Honestly he cannot do without you man

- when he finally does (thanks to Jean and Sasha pushing him to do so) he’s a blushing mess

- dating him though is wonderful, he’s attached to you at the hip, you guys are always together he hates being separated

- it’s annoying for everyone else though

- if you’re not around for some reason he doesn’t stfu about you

- he gets sad when you guys are apart ;(

- cheek kisses are often since they’re easy to give (it’s likely he’s shorter than you so just... easy cheek kiss... or because of the huge burst of height he gets as he ages he’s extremely taller and again cheek kisses are easy)

- loves hugging you, or just having his arms engulfed around you in some way

- terrible pickup lines? Absolutely. He’s mainly joking but sometimes he’s being serious

- before he’d do anything to make you laugh it’s even moreso now that you’re dating

- hand holding is often

- he is good at comforting you if need it

- would like to just be held after a tough day

- likes to hug you from behind

- loves kissing your hands <3

- my god if anyone is blushy it is Jean but I think we know this based off his interaction with mikasa

- cannot stop staring at you, at least Connie has some control and is just not aware of it. Jean is aware of his staring but has no self control.

- unlike Connie who has the confidence to jokingly flirt Jean doesn’t have that confidence. Acts like a cocky bastard but actually isn’t.

- probably says he made a move, or that he’s going to but hasnt and everyone knows it

- gets extremely nervous around you, palms sweaty, knees weak (arms are heavy)

- if you ever got hurt, protective mode (especially if it was to protect him cuz Christ he will lose it)

- scared to lose you, he lost Marco he doesn’t wanna lose you too

- he loves you so much, its come to the point where he can’t live without you. If you died he wouldn’t know what to do and he would probably go crazy without you around

- he’s always worried about you and watching out for you

- probably really jealous even before dating you, he’s constantly worried other people will have a better chance with you (if he noticed somebody else likes you he is all on that, he knows)

- he will try to impress you, also because of his jealousy but still. He wants to prove he can be good for you romantically

- so he’s constantly playing up how strong he is until you kick his ass in a fight

- however despite how nervous he gets around you, after some time he eventually is kinda himself. He doesn’t wanna seem like a dick around you so he acts overly nice but eventually you get close enough to where he can be himself

- likes to tease you sometimes

- probably calls you an idiot, especially if you are one or act like one at all. He don’t mean it but you know that.

- eventually will confess, because he’s sick of Sasha and connies teasing and lame attempts to be wingmen

- they’re so obvious abt it btw Sasha will just be there like “hey Jean y/n looks very cute today don’t you think so?” And Connie just nudges him, “yeah tell them how cute they are today, I think they look adoraaable” and he’s like “yes you’re very cute today” and then they just leave and make it awkward for you both

- when he tells you how he feels he’s stuttering so much, it’s painful

- dating Jean is still awkward, he’s still nervous but moreso that he might fuck up somehow and you’ll break it off with him

- eventually yeah, cuddlebug

- loves hugs

- clingy af

- mans can cook, you already know he cooking you something as much as he can

- loves giving you forehead kisses if you’re shorter, if not then cheek kisses are cool too

- before you dated he’d probably try to nervously compliment you and just stutter and die inside, in fact there was a time he didn’t talk to you at all because he never knew what to say

- he tries not to impress you as much but still does and is a jealous boy but less jealous cuz you’re dating him

- he needs constant reassurance

- he’s such a sweetheart deep down he is willing to do so much for you

- still calls you an idiot or any other nickname but more comfortable with it now that you’re dating and likes teasing you

- also eventually tells you how much he loves and cares for you, and tells you the extents of his love

- he loves always being around you and gets annoyed when Sasha and Connie tag along but you probably don’t mind

- he loves you though so he’s like . Ok

- he’ll follow you wherever you go tbh

- he’s also a blushy boy at times, especially if you’re in close proximity in some way

- complimenting him? Do you want him to pass out?

- I feel like people act like he’s overly mean to his crush but I don’t think he’d be mean. He’d try really hard to get along with them to the point where he might act like he likes the same stuff they do

- he’s clingy in general w/ you. Honestly not being around you for even a little feels like forever. Sometimes it’s just months before he can see you again, that hurts him ;(

- he’s such a softie deep down I can’t

- super protective as well (again I think everyone in aot is but mannn porco is so protective)

- he has seen some shit he knows what happens to people and he doesn’t want it happening to you

- very loyal to you tbh

- will find any excuse to touch you physically even if it puts a blush on his face, the first time he did he died but still... he liked the feeling and doesn’t ever wanna miss that feeling

- wraps an arm around you “casually” and “friendly” like all the time

- since him and pieck are pretty much always together, now it’s the three of you that are always together

- pieck finds it sweet though, and loves that he has somebody he could care for as much as he does

- ofc she tries to wingman, whenever he’s not around she asks you what you think of him. If you think of him as something more or what

- it’s because of one of your talks with pieck about porco does she finally encourage porco to tell you how he feels

- it takes awhile, he’s mainly worried of rejection or that he’ll lose you while you’re dating

- when you’re dating though, an arm around you at all times. If not holding your hand. (Ofc if you’re not currently discussing important matters)

- but yeah doesn’t mind pda, just not too much

- holds your hand if he is not having an arm around you

- kisses you like a lot, ofc when nobody else is around (or just pieck is around) but yknow

- he’s clingy, likes spending alone time w/ you but again wouldn’t mind if pieck was there

- gabi loves aww’ing at you guys and tbh so does pieck

- it does embarrass him sometimes but he loves you so he deals with it

- speaking of love he loves to remind you how much you mean to him and how much he loves you, he is not making the mistake of not letting you know how much he adores you

- teases tf outta you, like Jean would call you nicknames like idiot or something but he adores you too much for mean nicknames

- to make up for it he has pet names

- he’s also pretty jealous too btw

- make him feel better with lots of smooches

- he likes squishing your cheeks, surprisingly doesn’t mind if you do the same to him =)

- when cuddling he puts his face in either your chest or neck and peppers little kisses there

- pickup lines .. yeah they’re so bad he doesn’t care as long as they make you either blush or laugh

- low key just ... gently holds you, he loves u so much he’s so soft

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter fifteen

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1663

Monotonous.

That was the best word you could come up with to describe the past week. The days lulled on without change as you unfortunately pined after Levi, who still seemed to pay you no mind -- but today would be different. You had formed a hypothesis. It was lofty, optimistic guesswork with no actual backing, but it was a hypothesis nonetheless. If  you placed the right kind of pressure on Levi, then he would admit exactly what you wanted to hear. Your sadness about the situation, as melancholy typically does, had turned to spiteful anger; you needed to prove him wrong. Even if it amounted to nothing, even if you were left with sadness yet again.

"You want me to what?" Jean asked you in a whisper, face drawn up in disgust. You laughed at him before retraining your eyes on the back of Levi's head. His hair had been cut recently. It looked nice.

"Come on, Jean. It won't be that bad. It's just for a few days at most. I'll hate it just as much as you will. It's a game," you replied just as quietly. Despite his protests, you knew it wouldn't take too much convincing. He cared about you too much to tell you no. You gave him your most sincere puppy-dog eyes, watching the disgust on his face morph to a mix of disappointment and amusement. Score.

"I'll do it," he conceded, laying his forehead in his palm. You knew it wouldn't take much effort. Your plan, albeit a little childish, was what you had deemed a sure-fire experiment to test your hypothesis. Hange would be proud.

Levi, as careless as he may seem, irrefutably had anger as his foremost emotion. He was quick to it, and he wore it well. With such constant anger came many things: a gentle side well-contrasted by the rough exterior that ruled others' perception -- proven true; a likely mix of mood swings and impulsivity -- also relatively evident; and, most importantly, a tendency toward jealousy -- completely unproven but heavily suspected. You relied on that suspicion to make sense of the mixed signals he had given you.

You'd been considering it for days; after a while, you grew weary of being ignored. It beat down on you like a rain shower, leaving you to helplessly question the meanings of fleeting moments within the confines of the infirmary. Being unsure was decidedly the worst part. An explicit yes-or-no answer was annoyingly required to calm your racing mind -- accepting his words at face value was impossible.

You followed the outline of his jaw with your eyes as he spoke to Hange, who was sitting at his side. He always looked so well put together. You fantasized about his hair in disarray and his clothes hanging loose -- how he looked on the morning after the night you spent together. You had long grown past embarrassment; every self-pitying thought soon became validating as the nights in the infirmary consolidated into your definition of Levi. You were sure, entirely, that this newfound attitude towards you was all for show. Otherwise, how could someone so callous become so gentle?

His collected gaze was aimed anywhere that wasn't at you. Jean's stories of certain stolen glances when you weren't looking were enough to assure you that he wasn't as unbothered as he seemed. Sometimes you wished you could catch his eye just to send him a soft smile -- to remind him that the two of you weren't just unreasonably disliked acquaintances. You were almost tired of being mad at him; unfortunately for him, however, you were quick to anger, too.

When you were dismissed to training, you weren't slow to get up. You tossed your tray atop the stack of others and made your way out the door, other scouts surrounding you to form a crowd. Jean put his arm around you when you found yourself outside the door; but, instead of swinging it casually around your shoulders, he slid it snugly around your waist. You watched as he shook his head, eyes rolling so hard you were sure they'd come out of their sockets.

When you looked back, you swore for a moment that you met a pair of narrowed grey eyes.

---

The training exercise was your least favorite of them all: the insufferable wooden-titan practice you'd done a month or so before. You fell in line with the rest of your comrades, your gaze traveling to Levi's stance atop a tree branch. He was leading this exercise, and although it was better for your experiment, it was hard to ignore how hard he had been on you. Slack didn't seem to be in his vocabulary. You wanted to do well.

You all lied in wait for his go-ahead, your hands positioned over the triggers on your gear. It would be your first time using ODM again; luckily, legs weren't really necessary. You looked forward at the back of Bertholdt's head, knowing Jean stood a few feet behind you. Last time you finished -- third? Maybe second? You were confident you could do it again.

You saw Levi travel towards the middle of the group of trees for a better view. "Alright," he called, several yards away. "Go."

It only took a few seconds to realize you were rusty when you fell to the middle of the group. Jean had already passed you, along with Connie and Sasha. Nearly a month out of training had done more damage than you thought. You fought to stay ahead of the curve, your eyes failing you to glance at Levi's disappointed face. You made eye contact for a split second, your chest swelling against your will. A lift of his eyebrow forced your line of sight forward as you narrowly missed a tree branch. He scoffed, loud enough for you to hear him. How embarrassing.

Whether by luck or underestimation, you were surprised that several scouts remained in the exercise when you landed. Levi had moved towards the edge of the trees now, so you could still see him from your place in the grass. You wondered if he knew, and if he had glanced your way, too. Your plan relied on the fact that he had and would again.

You waltzed to where Jean stood, away from the others and sipping from his canteen. You slid your hand into his, fingers interlocking as he gagged playfully. "Your hands are sweaty," he said, discomfort clear in his tone.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Yours just feel greasy. Have you washed them recently?" The two of you continued joking back and forth as your eyes darted over your shoulder at Levi. You told yourself that acting as if you didn't even notice him would be the best way to go; it was difficult, though. You wanted to gauge every reaction as clearly as you could -- that's how experiments work, right?

You caught him staring for the very first time. When you met his eyes, his gaze did not falter. He simply lowered one eyebrow inconspicuously. You looked away as quickly as you could to hide the triumphant grin spreading across your face; he had seen, and he didn't look happy. The experiment, though, was not yet complete. You wanted more.

As the last few scouts landed, you and Jean took a seat, hands still interlocked in the clammiest, most uncomfortable form of physical affection you had experienced to date. To make matters worse, you decided to lay your head snugly in the slope from his neck to his shoulder. Of course, you and Jean were not strangers to physical affection, as most close friends weren't. Nonetheless, the connotation behind the prolonged hand-holding and casually romantic cuddling was uncomfortable at best. You were lucky he couldn't tell you no. Another strike of luck was that everyone was used to seeing the two of you close and comfortable, and it would be difficult to anyone not intently watching to notice a difference; were there any downsides to having a male best friend?

"Is he looking?" you whispered nudging Jean with your shoulder.

"I don't know," he whispered back, "I'm facing the same way as you."

You snorted. "No shit. Just look around. Don't make it obvious."

You felt his head turning, looking both ways out at the scouts that surrounded you. "Okay, yeah. He's looking. He didn't even look away when he saw me. He looks pissed."

You smiled. Your hypothesis was not far from being proven true; you just needed another push. "You're not going to want to do this," you told Jean, trying to hide the mischievous grin overtaking your face.

"I'm not doing it. No way."

"Jean, please!"

"Nope. Not happening."

"It'll only last a second," you said in the most convincing tone you could muster.

"This is a stupid plan," he answered, a sigh of concession building in his lungs. You had won, yet again.

"Just kiss me. Fuck, it's only once."

And so he did. He tasted like the disgusting soup you had eaten for lunch. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but you were subject to the time-slowing force that only came from ecstasy and torture. This time, it was the torture kind. When he pulled away, you forced a grin for show. Through your teeth, you said, "I think that was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Ever."

He laughed, squeezing your hand. "It couldn't have been worse than what just happened to me. Remind me to wash out my mouth with soap later." You looked over your shoulder to see Levi still staring, his jaw set in anger. What could be more satisfying?

When you were all dismissed from the exercise, you were sure to walk slowly as you and Jean swung your conjoined hands back and forth. Surely real couples don't hold hands this long, you thought; this much sweat can't be comfortable. Before you saw him, you heard Levi's voice at your side.

"Get cleaned up and get to my office. I need a word with you."

Had it really been this easy the whole time?