#but i absolutely fell in love with each of these books and i needed to let this out

[incognit0slut]

The breaking point

Part 2 of Beyond the Limit (can also be read as a standalone)

Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.

warnings: (18+, MDNI) soft dom spence because there’s a lot of praising in this one, reader in lingerie, orgasm control or edging, overstimulation, reader gets cockdrunk (idk how to explain it better), a little cockwarming at the end

Words: 4,3k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it, i don’t usually do a part two for my oneshots but…i’m actually tempted to do more

You were a tease—a goddamn tease. Spencer knew he needed to work on his self-control, but it was hard to keep his composure when you had the ability to stir desire within him. It was perplexing, given that there was a time when thoughts of anything remotely sexual never even crossed his mind.

For the majority of his life, intimacy had been a foreign concept. While he occasionally felt a pang of jealousy witnessing everyone around him find love, he managed just fine without it.  He suspected it was partly a defense mechanism, channeling his focus toward other aspects of his life—such as his mother's health, for example—to avoid dwelling on what he lacked.

But then all his beliefs shattered when you came crashing into his life. Suddenly, everything he thought he knew about himself was thrown away. Your presence sparked a fire within him that he never knew existed and he found himself craving the intimacy he had once dismissed as unnecessary.

He wasn't even aware of how touch-starved he was until he met you, and now it was hard to maintain that last thread of self-control he possessed. It wasn't that he didn't want to give in, but rather, he feared the intensity of his own desires, afraid that he might enjoy it more than he anticipated.

Because did he have to be rough with you for him to be satisfied, now that he had once known how it felt like? But how could he indulge in such temptation when you looked so utterly beautiful right now, so delicate, so precious in his eyes?

How could he even fathom ruining your perfection with roughness?

"Spence?" You nervously asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Your confidence was starting to dissipate as his eyes slowly traveled down your body, taking in the lingerie you chose to surprise him. Although this was not the reaction you were hoping for. "Do you not... like it?"

Spencer's gaze lingered on you, his expression was unreadable for a moment before a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"No, no, it's not that," he reassured you, putting down the book he had been reading on the bedside table before you walked into your shared bedroom. He reached his hand out, motioning you to come closer. "It's just... you caught me off guard, that's all."

You approached him cautiously and as you stepped closer, you noticed the tension in his shoulders easing, replaced by a soft warmth in his eyes. His hand found its place on your waist, drawing you closer and you instinctively fell on his lap, your knees dipping onto the bed on each side of his thighs.

Feeling his arousal right between your legs, you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips. "So you do like it," you murmured, a hint of satisfaction lacing your words.

"Like it? Sweetheart, that's an understatement," he replied. His calloused palms traveled along your sides as he took in the way the lace material hugged your curves.

The lilac-colored lingerie set on your body accentuated your figure perfectly. Both pieces were see-through, granting him a glimpse of your chest and lower region. The delicate edges of the top were adorned with more of the soft fabric, cascading over your stomach and back in a gentle, stunningly pretty way.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered as he traced the intricate patterns of the fabric with his fingertips. "Absolutely breathtaking."

His touch sent shivers down your spine. You leaned into him, relishing the warmth and tenderness of his touch as one of his hands moved up your arm before resting behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

His lips touched yours gently, sending a thrill coursing through your body. He nipped at your bottom lip, his touch both teasing and tender and as he sucked on it softly, a low moan escaped you. He then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, and you kissed him back eagerly, your lips moving in perfect sync with his.

When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, but he didn't stop giving you attention. His mouth made its way down to your neck, his lips trailing soft kisses along your skin and you couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. He then sucked on the spot below your ear, his lips creating a deliciously pleasurable sensation that made you moan softly in response.

You could feel his smile against your skin as he continued to travel further down, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your neck and collarbone. At the same time, his fingers pulled down the strap of your lingerie top, the material gracefully falling down your body, revealing more of your skin.

"Beautiful," he whispered as if it was the first time he laid his eyes on you, even if the two of you lost count long ago. His name slipped from your lips the moment his wide palms were pressed to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and your nipples hardened beneath his touch.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, and your breathing quickened in response when his thumb traced over your sensitive peak, sending electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Spencer watched the way your eyes widened with desire, his own filled with a hunger that mirrored yours. And when he leaned closer, wrapping his soft lips around it, you were instantly gone.

The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, eliciting the most sinful sound you weren't even aware of making. It was like music to his ears, fueling his desire to please you even more. He continued to suck on your skin, giving the same attention to each breasts, his movements growing more fervent with each passing moment.

When he felt your hips bucking against his, he let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure. He softly drew back your nipple, your supple skin following his pull before he released it with a soft pop. Your skin glistened from his saliva, and honestly, Spencer had never seen such a splendid sight before.

The way you were grinding against him over his cotton pants frantically sent a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He could feel the thin fabric of your sheer panties pressing between your cunt, and with each movement, he could see glimpses of soft, bare skin glistening under the light, driving him wild with longing.

A primal need surged within him, a need to devour you, to lose control and indulge in the raw intensity. He craved to run his rough hands along your body, to explore every inch of your skin and claim you as his own. But he couldn't—not when you were the one in control as you sought pleasure in the way your hips moved against his.

So instead, his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you to move faster. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. "Keep going."

You obeyed, pressing your aching heat against his cock, rolling your hips rapidly as a whimper of his name escaped you. You felt yourself growing hot and needy, your arousal dripping through your panties to coat his flesh beneath you, soaking through fabrics.

"Look at how wet you are," he mused, his voice laced with desire as he observed your flushed state and the evidence of your arousal staining the fabric between you. "Does this feel good?"

Your only response was another desperate moan, your body consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being with him. What started lazy and slow soon turned into sporadic thrusts as you tried to cling to any friction. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and your body quivered with a delicious ache. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.

"I need to feel you," you breathed out quickly, and before he could register what was happening, your fingers were pulling down his pants frantically. Sensing your desperation, he was quick to push the fabric down as his cock sprung free.

You bit down on your bottom lip as you lift your hips above him, taking him by the base with one of your hands while the other pushed the material of your panties to the side. He groaned when you pressed the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. Spencer always made sure you were fully ready, either with his fingers or mouth—or even with your own fingers. But you were already wet enough, and you couldn't wait any longer to feel him inside you.

You nodded eagerly, the need for him overpowering any hesitation. "Please," you begged, your voice pleading and desperate. "I need you now."

Both of you watched in awe as his girth stretched your clenched walls, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelming your senses. It wasn't the first time this happened, but it felt like a new sensation each time, and you found yourself instinctively clenching around him, eager to feel him even deeper inside you.

"Fuck," you whimpered, allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as you squeezed yourself around him. With a slow, deliberate motion, you lifted your hips, feeling him ease out of you, only to lower yourself onto him again.

The sensation of him sliding back inside you made you gasp, a rush of pleasure washing over you as you took him deeper. His groan reverberated through your body, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. As his head fell back against the headboard, you couldn't help but whimper, the words tumbling from your lips without much thought.

"You fill me up so good," you confessed, your voice laced with desire as you rolled your hips against him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his soft stomach clench underneath your fingertips with every upstroke of your hips. "Take this off, baby."

With a low growl of approval, Spencer complied, swiftly removing his shirt and tossing it aside. Without hesitation, your hands trailed over his chest, reveling in the sensation of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

He watched you intently, captivated by the raw display of pleasure that painted your features. The way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your mouth hung open in silent gasps, the way your breasts bounced with every movement—all of it drove him to the edge of his self-control.

As you quickened your pace, he felt his restraint slipping away, the urge to claim you completely becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Each time you clenched around him, it became harder for him to hold back. And as always, you could tell. You could feel the tension in his grip on your hips, the way his fingers dug into your flesh with a possessive urgency.

You slowed your hips, bringing your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "You're doing it again."

His gaze met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and frustration. He knew exactly what you were referring to. "I... I can't help it. You drive me crazy."

"I know that," you responded, stilling for a moment as you kept him buried deep inside you. "I just need you to do something about it."

He slowly shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," you assured him, your voice filled with confidence as you leaned closer, bumping your nose against him seductively. "Come on, I know how much you want to be in control."

When he didn't respond, you pushed him even further, your lips tantalizingly close to his as you whispered your seductive taunt.

"I know you want more," you teased. "Don't you want to take control? Lie me on my back and fuck me until I can't think anymore? Until I beg you to stop while you use my body over and over again?"

"Don't tempt me," he choked out, his voice thick with longing and restraint.

But you weren't finished yet. "Yeah?" you challenged, your tone daring as you buried your hand in his disheveled, sweaty hair. "Then I dare you to."

You tugged on his roots.

"Fuck me, Spencer." You nipped on his bottom lip. "Fuck me real good."

His breath caught in his throat at your bold words, his heart pounding rapidly. With a shaky exhale, he met your gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter than ever before.

And then, in a sudden surge of boldness, he surprised you, flipping you onto your back as you let out an amused squeal. But your laughter was quickly drowned out by the heat of his lips crashing down on yours.

He kissed you feverishly, with a messy and desperate hunger that left you breathless. He clung onto you as if you were the very air he needed to survive. He was devouring you as if you were the most delicious meal he had ever encountered, and he savored every moment, every sensation, swallowing your desperate moans.

And then he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss but any hint of disappointment vanished as you watched him shed his last piece of clothing. Then with deliberate slowness, he reached for your panties, his eyes locked on yours as he dragged them up your leg, savoring the sight of the damp fabric clinging to your skin.

When he finally discarded it on the floor, he wasted no time in grabbing one of your legs. With deliberate tenderness, he began trailing soft kisses along the inner part of your thigh, each gentle press of his lips sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your breath quickened as you watched him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I'm not going to be rough," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his eyes never leaving yours as he planted soft kisses right at the edge of your drenching heat, teasingly close to where you craved him most. He then crawled over your body, settling himself between your legs, his gaze locked on yours.

"But I am going to use you," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. "You'll let me do that, won't you?"

As he hovered above you, his weight supported by his arms, you watched a strand of his outgrown hair fall over his eyes. With a gentle touch, you reached out and tucked it behind his ear, a soft smile playing on your lips as you nodded in response.

"Say it," he urged. "Tell me you're mine to use."

You met his gaze, your own eyes dark with longing and anticipation. "I'm yours," you whispered, and when you felt his tip pressing into your entrance once again, you gasped. "I-I’m yours to use."

In one swift motion, he filled you again with a hard thrust that had you arching your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you. "S-Spence..."

"Good girl," he praised, his words sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your cheek. His hips began to roll into you, setting a rhythm that drove you wild. "My good, pretty girl."

You whined in response, the sound music to his ears as he continued to thrust into you at a steady rhythm. He relished the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to use the way you were satisfied, to use the way you wanted him, to take you to the brink of ecstasy.

He wanted to use you in every way possible, to make you his in every sense of the word.

Spencer never considered himself a possessive person, but when it came to you, he wanted to be the one you surrendered to completely. And in this moment, he had never felt more in control. It was intoxicating, the power he held over you, the way you willingly gave yourself to him.

That was why when he felt you clenching around him, knowing you were so close to your peak, he stopped. He wanted to draw out this moment, to savor every sensation, every sound you made, every breath that escaped your lips. He wanted to draw out your pleasure until you were begging for release, until you were completely and utterly his.

"Why—" you gasped. "Why did you stop?"

He smiled down at you. "Because I want to make you feel good, Angel," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I want to take my time doing it."

Your head fell back, and you couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a moan. His use of the term Angel always had a way of melting your resolve, and you knew he was fully aware of the effect it had on you.

"Be patient," he chided before burying his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin gently. Then, he resumed moving his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. It felt incredible, but you couldn't shake the desire for him to fuck you harder.

"More," you cried out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze.

"Yeah? Spread your legs wider then."

You whimpered at his simple command, your shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches wider. It was becoming harder to breathe from the way he was pushing you into the mattress, but you welcomed the pleasure, craving more of him.

Your hands clawed at his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks from your nails as you desperately sought something to hold onto. The intense pleasure coiled tightly in your gut, making you feel as if you were gasping for air while your head swam with overwhelming sensations.

Your moans became more fragmented with every stroke of his hips, your thoughts clouded by the pulsating ache between your legs. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation building within you, traveling along your body. You were so close—and then it stopped.

It simply stopped right at the edge, and you couldn't feel anything but a raw need. It was incredibly frustrating as you caught him smiling down at you. You whined and bucked your hips, chasing the tight warmth you had so suddenly been denied.

Your breath came out in short, ragged gasps. "You're evil," you managed to say, your voice trembling with need. "I-I was so close..."

"Too soon," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to yours. "Just imagine how good it'll be once I finally let you come."

Spencer then slowly pulled away, his eyes tracing every detail of your trembling form��the way your mouth was slackened open, the way your hair sprawled across the sheets, the way your eyes fluttered closed yet struggled to remain open. He noticed them glistening with unshed tears, on the verge of falling, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't help himself. He was simply using you, just like you asked him to. But seeing the tears welling in your eyes, a wave of tenderness washed over him, and he leaned down to kiss them away, whispering soft words of comfort.

"Shhh, it's okay," he murmured. Although his words were spoken softly, there was nothing gentle about the way he continued to fuck you. "You can take it. Hold on a little bit longer, I promise."

A choked sob escaped you as he pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, murmuring soothing words. One of his hands reached between you, settling on the lower part of your stomach before pressing down gently as he felt the outline of cock moving inside you. He let out a groan, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"That’s it, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're taking me so well."

You whimpered almost pathetically as everything started to blur. You were a sweaty mess, both of you were, his skin gliding along yours effortlessly as he continued to thrust into you. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, so sticky, so messy, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

The throbbing between your legs was starting to burn, but at the same time, it felt so good—the way he was stretching you, the way you could feel him moving in and out of you. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, it was all too much but also not enough.

"S-Spence..." you whined, your head spinning with pleasure, almost too delirious as drool seeped down the corner of your lips. "Pl-Please, I-I can't—"

A soft chuckle escaped him as he watched you struggle to form coherent words. "Alright, alright, I got you," he murmured reassuringly. "On three now. Can you be a good girl and come at the count of three?"

You nodded weakly. "Yes, yes," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths.

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "One..."

Your breath hitched as anticipation built within you. Obscene wet noises filled your ears as he continued to fuck you, and with each number, his thrusts grew more deliberate, more intense.

"Two..."

You whined and he swallowed your moans, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You couldn't form any coherent words. You couldn't even think. It was too fucking much and you were on the verge of your breaking point.

And then, on the final count, he drove into you with such force that it sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

"Three," he whispered as he pulled back slightly, a string of saliva connected your parted mouths.

You gasped, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure consumed you. Your senses overwhelmed, your vision blurred with white-hot intensity, and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the edge of overstimulation.

T-Too much—You can't. You fucking can't.

The sensation never seemed to end and you found yourself surrendering to it,  your mind going blank. It was as if you were intoxicated by the heady sensation, your senses dulled and heightened all at once, drunk on his touch. Your body felt so wet, so sensitive, so overwhelmed by the sheer force of your climax. 

And when you thought it couldn't get any more intense, he proved you wrong by rutting his hips even harder with so much force as he chased his own high. He tucked his head in your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he moaned into your ear. With a few final thrusts, he drove into you deeply, his body tensing as he released himself inside you.

You were tired, so overwhelmingly spent, and as you both came down from the high, you gasped and trembled, your body finally relaxing from the pent-up tension. Your eyes felt glassy and unfocused, blinking slowly as you registered his murmured praises against your neck and shoulder.

He gently pulled away, and you winced as you felt him still throbbing inside you. Slowly, he searched for your eyes, his gaze filled with tenderness, and sighed in relief when you looked up at him with a tired yet blissful smile on your lips.

He smiled softly, relieved by your response. "You're okay."

You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Hmm," you murmured, running your fingers along his damp hair. "I'm more than okay."

He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I'm so proud of you."

You giggled. "Me? I never thought you could be tempted to do that so easily."

He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against yours. "You have that effect on me," he confessed. "Besides, it's hard to resist you."

"I am pretty irresistible, aren't I?"

"Absolutely," he replied as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. He shifted his weight and started to pull out, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in place.

"No, no," you pleaded. "Stay inside me for a while."

He paused, looking down at you with a smile. "We need to clean up."

"And we will." You ran a hand over his shoulder. "Just... give me five minutes."

He sighed, his resolve melting under your pleading gaze. "Alright, five minutes," he agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But then we really need to clean up."

You responded with a soft hum, snuggling closer to him as he shifted toward the empty space on the bed. With a gentle gesture, he pulled you on top of him, enveloping you in his arms as you sprawled across his body. 

You let out a sigh, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the rhythm of his heart beating against your own. And as you savored the sensation of him still pulsing inside you, you smiled peacefully—you have never felt so complete.

I'm tempted to turn this into a series of one-shots where he and Reader explore new kinks together... or like how they try to navigate their relationship. I'm really, really tempted.

[ennn]

Things I Liked About the Agatha All Along Finale - Initial Thoughts

Wooooo boy. Hey look I'm a bleeding heart shipper but I'm old and have been in enough fandoms. Let's process shall we?

Alice! Alice echo-ing what so many fans are saying about her lost potential. Rio actually being kind in reminding Alice her death did have purpose. "You're a protection witch, you protected someone."

The development of Billy's extremely complicated relationship with Agatha. Kid's not loyal to Agatha, he's understanding her, or starting to at least. He sees her being a relationship with Death and he's curious about the story there. He cares enough to connect the dots and see Agatha as a full person. And we see that developed as the finale goes.

"That's it? That's all the time that I get?" The show reminds us that death sometimes just happens – "Sometimes boys die" – I wonder if one of these writers is a Sandman fan because I immediately clocked a parallel to Death of the Endless taking a baby's life in her first comic appearance.

Death of the Endless is of course much kinder than Rio is with her (iconic) reply to that eternal question. "You lived what anyone gets... A lifetime."

That whole convo we got in the preview clip. And then them just sitting down and talking more? Albeit with layers of manipulation but y'know that's them.

Agatha telling Rio that she'll hand over Billy if Rio leaves her alone: essentially making Rio once again choose between her duty and her feelings towards Agatha. The deepest cut Agatha could make – which we see echoed with "If you do this I'll hate you forever." They know each other and the best ways to hurt each other.

I laughed waaaay too much at Agatha ragging on Jen's last vegetable name.

Jen's unbinding ritual was powerful and a fantastic moment for the character. She recognised and embraced her power. Agatha's mask slipping a little at the end as well. Amazing. Sasheer killed it.

The whole scene with Agatha working with Billy to bring Tommy back was beautiful and emotional and well put together and showed the side to Agatha that cements her as a great mentor (when she's not being the biggest murderous asshole).

Agatha using what she learnt from her Alice and Jen – and what Lilia told her – to hold her ground with Rio... okay it lasted like 10 seconds but it was a nice callback! Agatha's such a shameless survivor.

Incredible kissing. We knew Hahn and Plaza would deliver and they did. When it comes to kissing women, these two absolutely go for it.

Rio looking absolutely gutted with having to take Nicky away. Plaza really delivered with Rio's pain in these eps. Agatha calling her "my love", cursing and then begging.

Rio being soft about Nicky despite her job. Nicky willingly going with her with no fear, no hesitation – suggesting that they did bond somehow? Nicky knew she was a friendly face and trusted her. It was really a good death, all things considered. He wasn't sick, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't scared he simply fell asleep and just went.

Rio reminding Nicky to kiss his mom goodbye. She cares so much, as much as a personification of death can. It's funny how some people thought Rio was going to be this manipulative big bad but no, Agatha's the more toxic one in this relationship.

Okay like imagine Agatha finally dying and just straight up BOOKING it before Rio pops up. Rio hates ghosts. The number of times Agatha deliberately pissed her off this finale was amazing.

"I'm sure he'll forgive you for... whatever you did." Aw Billy is a good kid. Just like Nicky was. Agatha needs that reminder, that anchor to not be the Worst.

Chemistry aside, Agatha and Billy being mentor-pupil makes a ton of sense because these Maximoffs do the most fucked up shit (unintentionally) with their magic and Agatha's got the knowledge, charisma, cynicism, and the morals of a spinning compass to support him.

Alright when are they announcing the sequel / spin-off? I know there's a rumour of it happening. Rio's got 2 abominations and one endlessly aggravating ghost of an ex to deal with now.

[lisired]

who needs cupid’s bow?

pairing: bff!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: bff2l, suggestive, lots of sexual innuedos but no smut, fluff, a teaspoon of angst, mc & hc are oblivious to each other’s feelings and jaemin calls them out on their bullshit, mutual pining

summary: Cupid is not on your side, it seems. He’s made you fall in love with the worst possible person ever, AKA your best friend, AKA the man who still eats tootsie-pops—willingly. And frankly, it feels like the damn candy has a better chance of dating him than you ever will.

word count: 11.1k

a/n: inspired by down for you by kehlani, boyfriend by ariana grande, and serial lover by kehlani. another oldie but i kinda like it… kinda. as always, feedback is appreciated!

It’s safe to say that Cupid is your mortal enemy (Or immortal—whatever. Nonetheless, you aren’t the biggest fan of him.)

You don’t know why, but for some inexplicable reason, he always makes you fall in love with the wrong people. Such as Lee Taeyong from eighth grade, or your failed relationship with Kim Jisoo from your biology class in high school — a pretty girl, but you were as compatible as Mentos and Coca-Cola. Hell, there was even Jung Sungchan from senior year, who you naturally drifted away from during an exam period. They’re all chapters in your book now, but you’re currently stuck on the one about your best friend, Lee Haechan.

It seems like you’re Cupid’s mortal enemy, too. You and Haechan are always side by side, down one another’s throats, there’s no way his arrow could have hit you and missed Haechan.

Perhaps, it’s a hole you dug yourself in. Via mutual friends, when you were seventeen, you met Lee Haechan — jock, senior, and the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. There was an instant connection between you two, all it took was a convo at a party about coincidentally both failing the same math exam, and you quickly became friends and close enough to pour out your heart into little rants whenever there was something personal bothering either of you, and you needed an outlet. You liked him because he understood you. He was patient witth you. You see, you aren’t the best at communicating how you feel, and he never makes you feel bad about it.

You remember breaking up with your then-boyfriend, Jung Sungchan, and while you weren’t heartbroken since you saw it coming and all the love had evaporated by then, you were devastated that you no longer had someone to kiss. That being your main concern made Haechan laugh. He thought it was the most you thing ever.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you asked, a little grin on your face, although you were very serious. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, kissing your best friend. He has pretty lips, and it isn’t like it’ll mean anything, you think. It’s just one kiss.

Haechan scoffed, biting off the last remaining piece of his Tootsie Pop off the stick. You’re kidding, he thinks. Why would you seriously want to kiss him? And after breaking up with your now ex-boyfriend? The wound’s still fresh. “You wouldn’t dare.”

To Haechan’s surprise, you dared.

He tasted like chocolate, exactly like a Tootsie Pop, as expected of him. You didn’t mind, though. You never do. It was fun, you liked the way Haechan held you in his lap and kissed you back with fierceness, and he still kisses you with that same passion, like there’s no tomorrow.

And that’s the problem.

Fast-forward four years later, you’re still best friends with Lee Haechan, only this time you’re in college, and have the fattest, most gigantic crush on him. Somewhere along the way, those lines between love and friendship were blurred. It’s impossible to pinpoint when, but you fell deep and hard for your best friend.

And the worst part? You doubt he’ll ever reciprocate those feelings.

One kiss turned into more than you can count on your fingers and toes.

Should you continue making out with your best friend who doesn’t reciprocate your romantic interest in him? Probably not.

Are you still going to, though? Absolutely.

“Y/n, I’m going to kill you,” Haechan states as he stumps inside the dining room. His hair is tussled since he’s just waken up from a nap, but you like this raw side of him. He looks gorgeous, and despite him basically threatening to murder you you still want to kiss him.

“Romantic,” you deadpan, training your eyes back on your laptop. It takes everything in you not to stare, but if you want to keep your feelings low-key, you need to follow a couple of rules.

“I know you took my Tootsie Pop. Where is it?”

You smirk a little, but it quickly fades into a line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, so maybe that’s a lie, and you both know it. You aren’t the only other person in the house, but Jungwoo, Haechan’s stepbrother, is asleep and wouldn’t cut his nap time short to do something as stupid as stealing the last of his brother’s favorite candy. That leaves you. As his best friend, you’re the first person to know Haechan turns murderous over those stupid lollipops, and that he’s the last person to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop. In your personal opinion, they’re not even that good. But he’s loved them ever since you’ve known him.

“We’re best friends, y/n. I know when you’re lying,” he remarks, and doesn’t give you the chance to answer before he persists, “where is it?”

There’s only one way out of this.

Run.

Haechan follows almost automatically, and in spite of being barely awake he obviously has the upper hand because he’s always leaned more towards the sport-y side. This doesn’t deter you though, because you have a getaway plan.

In your attempt to somehow outrun a man that used to do track and field, you make a beeline for the backyard door. He’s not going to outrun you in the grass in slippers, you think as you turn to see if he’s caught up on you. You’re in the lead, albeit barely, with your body almost being in arms reach. You try to pick up your speed, and once you reach the door you hurry to turn the knob. Except, there’s one, itty-bitty problem.

The door is fucking locked.

And you already know you won’t have time to open it, so you cave in to defeat, whirling around with your hands up in a surrendering pose. Your plan’s backfired; you’ve been caught.

“Oh, I’ve got you now,” Haechan says cockily. He has you—hook, line, and sinker, and at this point you aren’t even upset. You can’t be upset. His eyes are on you, and his body is close to yours, dangerously so.

“Okay, you win. Happy?” You mumur.

“Not until I get my Tootsie Pop back,” he shakes his head, “now where is it?”

Smiling, you shrug. Of course, you know where the candy is, but he’s either going to have to win or pry the answer out of you.

Then, he steps even closer, and your heart starts pounding in your chest twenty times faster than your feet were against the hardwood. This isn’t your first rodeo, you’ve made out with your best friend countless times, yet the anticipation gives you a rush, like you’ve never done this before. It makes you feel like a teenager in love all over again — seventeen, young and head over heels in love with the man closest to you.

He’s back you into the door, and you can’t keep your eyes off his lips. Beautiful, plush, soft, and your eyes flutter shut as you prepare to feel the same skilled pair against your own, closer, and closer, and closer—

Crunch.

“I fucking knew it!” Haechan yells, jolting your eyes open. You aren’t even given the opportunity to register the situation before his hands are digging into your back pocket, retrieving his fortunately unharmed Tootsie Pop.

It feels like he’s gone before you can even blink, and realizing he’s slipped back into the hall, you begin to follow him into his room. “Hey!” you yell, and he doesn’t say anything, just looking up at you from his gaming chair with that damn candy hanging from his mouth, “why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Why’d you steal my Tootsie Pop?”

Okay, that was stupid, yes, but there was a particular goal in mind which was reached, even if for a short-lived moment.

You frown, “I wanted your attention.”

Haechan shakes his head, laughing. “C’mere.”

Somehow, those words never fail, making you melt and slip into his lap effortlessly every time. You’re like Jell-O to his voice, to his touch, to his whole. You’re a goner, some would say, and a part of you is alright with never coming back if it means you get to feel all the weird, Cupid-y emotions he makes you feel.

At this point, you don’t think you’ll ever stop kissing Haechan. In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve both been in relationships, hence putting the make out sessions on hiatus. They were never really long though, because you’d break up with them and inevitably find your way back to one another in the end.

His fingers guide your chin up, and once more your eyes flutter shut as his lips unite with yours. Haechan kisses in a manner that contrasts with the soft feeling of his lips. He always starts off gentle, but there’s a hunger that overcomes him as he stands up and pushes you against his desk, rough yet graceful and holding you so firmly, like you’re glass, but he wants to break you. And when he shatters you into all those tiny pieces, you don’t care. You want him to glue you back together and do it all over again. He’s intoxicating, he’s an addictive drug, but he tastes like candy, and you can’t stop coming back to him. He feels like home, the place where you belong. The place where you can be one-hundred percent, authentically you, safe and whole, more than the general perception than you. And fuck, does he kiss like the damn devil himself.

You were silly for ever believing it would only be one kiss.

Jungwoo thinks that for people who are trying to keep their not-so relationship-y relationship under wraps, you two are very loud.

Speaking of which, and despite the nature of your relationship, you and Haechan haven’t even discussed your label. You know that you aren’t friends with benefits—you haven’t crossed that line, but to be honest, those lines have been starting to look blurry for a while—but you also aren’t in a relationship. You see other people, you fuck other people, and when other people ask if you’re dating, you both deny it immediately. You’re just best friends, you both say each time like some rehearsed line, even if it breaks your heart to hear him friendzone you.

Karina and Mark even have an ongoing bet about you two. Karina is one-hundred positive there’s something going on, whereas Mark is probably the only person in the world that wants to give you guys the benefit of the doubt.

“For heaven’s sake, I can’t get any type of sleep around here,” Jungwoo rasps, leaning against the doorframe, “I really hope you guys don’t do this shit when Dohwan’s here.”

His judgmental eyes practically bore into your soul, and you thank heaven that you don’t have to worry about keeping this secret from Jungwoo, even if he would probably appreciate it more if you did. He finds you in a rather interesting position, straddling Haechan’s lap as you press kisses into his collarbone.

It’s all Haechan’s fault, really. Three years ago, Jungwoo made the mistake of walking inside Haechan’s bedroom without knocking, accidentally finding you two making out in a very touchy way on his bed because a certain someone didn’t think to lock the door. Not only did you ruin his quote-unquote innocence, but his perception of you forever, and ever since that ordeal, Jungwoo has never opened his stepbrother’s door without knocking. This time, it just so happened to be wide-open.

You bite your lip, feeling bad. Kim Dohwan is Haechan’s halfbrother of whom he babysits whenever available (and you like to tag on, because dealing with children is stressful and Haechan’s already stressed enough), and on weekdays Jungwoo has to wake up from his nap earlier to pick up the kid from school and bring him back home, then leave for work. You were too loud and disrupted the poor guy’s nap time.

“Oh,” Haechan says the syllable blankly, not too sympathetic, “did we wake you?”

“Of course not, I usually wake up at 2pm and take extra longs showers to start my day,” Jungwoo deadpans, “but whatever. I’m heading out. Don’t forget to go grocery shopping today.”

“Noted,” you and Haechan say simultaneously, gazing at one another and stifling giggles when you catch each other’s gaze. Jungwoo smiles at you, then flicks off his brother before parting.

When you’re both all alone again, a few seconds pass before Haechan’s eyes do that thing where they twinkle every time something catches his interest (or perhaps that’s the in love side of your brain making you see things.)

“Hey, you coming to Chenle’s Valentines Day party Monday?” You don’t know why he’s even asking, you follow Haechan everywhere he goes like a lost puppy. Maybe he’s discreetly asking you out. “Unless you’re actually busy, by the way, I hope you know you’re going. And maybe you’ll find some single pringle interested in a relationship. You can’t just kiss me forever, you know.” Oh. Well that eliminates that thought.

A part of you is yelling at you to decline, to lie and say that you actually have a dick or pussy appointment scheduled for the 14th, yet another is weak, in spite of you being aware of how this works. First of all, Valentine’s Day parties are mainly for single people who don’t have anything better to do, and each time one of you go to one, you end up meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. You know that’s more than likely what he’s going to do, and you aren’t strong enough to watch him flirt with other people.

You know how to put up a good front, though, so you’ll fake it until you make it.

“We can do a lot more than kiss,” you suggest with a wink.

Haechan grimaces, “No thanks. Now get off my lap.”

You frown, but climb off his lap nonetheless. “Wow,” you drag dramatically, “You’ll make out with me for what feels like hours, but sticking your dick in me is where you draw the line?”

“Precisely.”

You gasp in faux offense. “Oh, come on. Sex doesn’t seem so bad. Like, think of it as my pussy giving your dick a nice warm hug.”

Haechan’s at a lost for words, his face bright red. How do you even come up with this stuff? “Oh my god, are you coming or not?”

You joke, “I thought you said sticking your dick in me was where you draw the line?”

He shoots you a glare so sharp you’re sure that if you were still on his lap, he’d be barely resisting the urge to shove you off. You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up, though.

Haechan groans exasperatedly, leaning back his gaming chair, “Y/n, seriously!”

“Fine!” resisting your best friend is literally impossible, you conclude, because you have officially caved in to his request—or, more or less, demand, rather, “fine, fine! I’ll go!”

“Great,” he grins with satisfaction, beaming with his thirty-two teeth, and you even see little gleams of smiles in his eyes, “anyway, Dohwan’s gonna be here soon, so let’s get ready to go shopping.”

You furrow your brows. You have a solid twenty minutes left, and all you really need to do is slip on your shoes.

“I need more Tootsie Pops,” Haechan adds, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense.

And you roll your eyes. “We’ll get you some more Tootsie Pops, but you better not ditch us for the candy aisle!”

“Of course, not,” he smiles, not even trying to sound or appear convincing. “I’d never leave you guys.”

That’s exactly what he does.

You aren’t even remotely surprised, though heavily disappointed when he announces in the middle of the thankfully empty cereal aisle that he’s going to find Tootsie Pops, managing to run off before you can even protest.

Gripping the shopping cart, you avert your gaze from the Cinnamon Toast Cruch boxes to his figure, almost missing him jog onto the following aisle. You shake your head, a small smile tugging your lips. If it were the end of the world, Haechan would stock up on those candies before he would even think to consider water.

“Auntie Y/N,” you aren’t quite adjusted to being addressed as an aunt, but you aren’t against it either. You have the image all put together—rich, thriving, and the kids adore you, “do you love my brother?”

That was perhaps the very last question you expected the six-year-old boy to ask you. Your eyes are a little wide, but it’s a kid, you remind yourself, so you shouldn’t be worried. But shit, then again, if a first-grader can figure it out, you’re fresh out of luck.

“Why do you think that?” You crouch down to be eye-level with him, having a feeling there’s some misunderstanding here. Dohwan’s bright for his age and doesn’t let anyone forget it, but you’ll be damned if he’s sniffed you out.

He makes a face. “I saw you kiss him, just like mommy and daddy do. And my mommy and daddy love each other very—” he stretches the vowel, and you can’t but giggle, “—much! That’s why they made me!” then he gasps, and you fear what it means, praying he doesn’t ask what you think he will. “Will you and my brother have a baby, too? I wan’ a new friend!”

On second thought, you think you’d rather he would’ve asked you what you thought he was. You nearly have a heart attack in the middle of the aisle, yet still, Dohwan gazes up at you with his innocent, sparkly eyes. You assume it’s in the blood; Jungwoo doesn’t have them, and he isn’t blood-related to Haechan, but Dohwan partially is, and the twinkle is promiment.

Calmly, you reply, “Don’t you already have a lot friends?”

He does, you both know it. You vaguely remember pulling up to his sixth birthday bash and being in shock of all the little kids jumping and flipping on the Spider-Man bouncy house. You haven’t been surrounded by that many children since, hell, probably since kindergarten.

“Yeah, but I wanna be a big brother,” he folds his tiny arms and pouts, “It’s not fair Hyuck and Woo get to be big, but I don’t!”

With minimum success, you manage to stifle your laugh, stretching out your arms to bring the little boy in for a hug, “You’ll be big one day. Trust me, you don’t wanna rush it.”

“And strong like Superman?”

“And strong like Superman,” you reassure, all smiley and convincing. “Now let’s go check up on your big brother, he’s taking too long.”

Dohwan rocks from side to side as he walks, murmuring some Nickelodeon TV show theme song, and you push the cart until you’ve reached your designation.

Quickly, you regret acting on your impatience. The scene taking place at the back of the aisle is anything but comforting—Haechan’s talking to some girl, whom of which is literally throwing herself onto him, and you can’t help but notice the way he wallows in the attention. For fucks sake, all the attention you give him and he doesn’t even give a fraction of it back! Then here comes this random girl from your campus.

Sometimes, you think about how you could do everything she’s doing right now—twirl your hair around your finger, be touchy with him, giggling girlishly at everything he says, funny or not—and yet he wouldn’t bat an eye, because you’re best friends and nothing more. Kissing each other breathless is already normalized between the two of you, what’s a little flirting.

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t kissed your best friend that day. You’re both too comfortable, everything is too weightless. I love you, Haechan says it back without a thought. C’mere, he calls and pulls you onto his lap or cuddles you to death. Fuck, he—on very rare occasions when making out goes a little too far—groans into your ear, groping you a little. Scratch that. It may be weightless on his end, but it isn’t on yours, and everything has an everlasting effect on you.

“Auntie?”

When you look down at Dohwan, your gaze is so, so tired. Your eyes do the talking; you can’t move your lips.

He hugs your leg. “I love you.”

His face is pure, innocent, but he reads you so perfectly. The corners of your lips turn up, and you ruffle his hair, “Love ya, too. Let’s go get your brother, alright?”

He bounces eagerly, and you both begin to stroll down the aisle until you’re beside Haechan. You’re in a selfish mood today, so you think of some remark to make in the process.

“Nice Tootsie Pops, Bowlcut,” you mask your tiny emotional breakdown with a joke, “Hi, Faith.”

“Hope,” she corrects, evidently annoyed by your presence, though she doesn’t state it outright. “My name is Hope. And… bowl cut?”

“Interchangeable,” you dismiss her correction carelessly. In all honesty, you already knew her name, but you’re feeling like a bitter bitch currently, “and yeah, in high school Haechan had this hideous bowl cut that he—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Haechan grumbles, “that was four years ago!”

“And I’ll never forget,” you’re smiling blissfully, nostalgic. “Anyways, what’cha two doing?”

“We were catching up, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen Hope here,” you hear Hope snicker at this, and something about it is extremely off-putting. He turns to her, “So, I’m in a bit of a time crunch. Could I have your number?”

Ouch. Right in your face, literally.

She giggles some more, typing her number in his phone, and you try to focus on Dohwan so that you don’t cave into your desire to knock her upside the head. There’s already so much on your plate, you don’t need an assault charge.

She smiles, all bubbly and giddy. You know jealousy isn’t a good look, but it’s still pissing you off. “See you around?”

“See you around,” Haechan replies. She hugs him, not forgetting to shoot you a look from across his shoulder as she does, and only once satisfied does she turns on her heel, sashaying away.

“Didn’t know pussy was on the shopping list,” you sneer, relieved once she’s finally gone. Her presence was suffocating.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “at least I’m actually trying, I don’t know what you’re going to do when I’m cuffed down and—holy sh—I mean crap! You’re so quiet, I forgot you were here,” Haechan jumps, only noticing Dohwan when he pokes at his leg. “And don’t you dare make a cuff joke, y/n. Not in front of the kid.”

You yell in that defensive tone which is a tell-tale sign you’re lying, “I wasn’t gonna!”

Haechan gives you the look.

The we’re-best-friends, I-know-when-you’re-lying look.

And that look is utterly withering, so you decide you’re accepting defeat. “Okay fine, maybe I was thinking about it, but I wasn’t actually gonna say it. Not with him around.”

Haechan snorts, like you said something funny, but in reality he just doesn’t believe you. “Yeah, alright. Let’s finish shopping.”

You don’t argue, but there’s a lingering thought in your mind as you push the cart, rattling around in your brain still.

When he’s cuffed. Hmm. You can’t speak for him completely, but you both know how that one goes. When you get into a relationship, you think the person is great and they serve as a nice temporary distraction—that is, until you’re bored and realize no one will ever compare to Haechan, and especially not in the kissing department. So you break up, and then you go back to making out with Haechan, solidifying your suspicion that no one will ever replace your best friend. It’s the reason you don’t do relationships anymore, you feel bad for using people when you know it isn’t going to change a thing. It never does.

As far as your knowledge extends, things aren’t too different with Haechan. You and him don’t push things, you don’t pry too deep. There’s some unspoken boundary, and you know when to drop things. That’s why you both say the same thing each time you ask one another why you and whoever it was that you were previously seeing broke up—it wasn’t working out.

Like a moth to a flame, Haechan always finds his way back to you too, because apparently you’re the only person that can keep him tied down. You don’t think that’s the case, though. Your problem is you’re in love with your best friend, no matter how hard you try to suppress the feelings. His problem? You can’t be sure, but you’d guess commitment issues.

Whatever it is, and as selfish as it may sound, you want it to stay. He isn’t yours, but you like the comfort of knowing that he isn’t anyone else’s, either.

If Cupid had a human counterpart, it would be Na Jaemin in reincarnated form. He may not have wings nor a bow and arrow, but he does have dedication and a gigantic mouth.

“I can’t believe you called me over here for this,” you stand in an effort to leave, but Jaemin pulls you back down by your wrist, so you sigh, accepting that you’re stuck in the cafe and in the middle of a Jaem-terrogation.

“Not so fast, Sonic. You still haven’t answered my question. I don’t have all day, you know, I have other people’s business to be in,” he admits unabashedly, and you snort at his honesty.

Jaemin is an extremely shameless, extremely straightforward individual. He knows what he wants, how to get it, and the only time he’s afraid of letting someone know what he’s chasing for is when it interferes with his goal of obtaining said desire. He loves all things drama and gossip, and these are the lengths he’ll go to squeeze information out of you. No wonder he’s one of the writers for the campus newspaper.

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan,” you fiddle with your fork. “And even if I did, why would it matter? Haechan doesn’t have feelings for me, either.”

“Forgive me, but you’re a fucking dumbass,” Jaemin concludes, and you gasp in dramatic offense. “Why would I be here if he didn’t like you back, y/n? You know that he hasn’t had anyone over in two weeks? There’s like, three things at the top of Haechan’s list of shit he needs to survive, and that’s you, Tootsie Pops, and sex. Yet he’s gone two entire weeks without it. He likes you, really fucking bad.”

“Golly gee, Haechan hasn’t fucked anyone in two entire weeks. He must be head over heels in love with me,” you deadpan, ignoring how Jaemin rolls his eyes in response. “Be serious, Jaem. He literally got this girl’s number the other day. The man said himself that he doesn’t want to stick his dick in me. There’s nothing going on.”

Okay, so maybe Haechan is a raging sexaholic. Maybe he’s been a little horny recently. And maybe contact-full makeout sessions have been a reoccurrence in the past two weeks, but none of that matters, and he typically has extreme self control. Fresh as yesterday, he was definitely trying to get into Hope��s pants. It’s weightless, everything between you. It means absolutely nothing, and you’re trying to come to terms with the possibility that it never will. You wish your friends would accept the fact, too.

At least they don’t know you and Haechan make out, and have been for the past four years. They’d be insufferable, and you two would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Y/n, please. Your biggest competition is those damn Tootsie Pops.”

“And if you told him that he had to live without me or the candy, he’d choose them over me any day.”

“Actually, he’d tell me to fuck off—and stop asking him stupid questions. You can’t tell me I’m wrong because I’m speaking from experience,” Jaemin grins, “I pushed the question until he gave me a proper answer. He chose you, by the way.”

You groan into your hands, “Unless you have some other evidence to provide besides this stupid question and him not getting laid in two weeks, you’re wasting my time here, Cupid.”

Jaemin sighs, “I thought I could pressure you into admitting your feelings—”

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan!”

“—that you deny having, but I guess taking the high road doesn’t work. Don’t worry, I still have plan B. I mean, you should be worried, but it’s whatever.”

You blink. “Plan B?”

He ignores you, standing up and preparing to take his leave. You’re still curious about whatever his alternative, backup plan is however, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to tell you.

“Jaemin!” You shriek. “What are you talking about?”

“February 14th, Chenle’s party,” he answers vaguely, swinging his bag over his shoulders. “Be there, or be square. Whatever that means.”

He exits without another word, leaving you dumbfounded and with a sudden dread in your chest. They don’t… know, do they? No, of course not. How could they? You’ve been keeping this secret for nearly four years, and the only people that know are Jungwoo and Dohwan.

Great. Another reason to dread the fourteenth, and despise Cupid—and his human counterpart, your actual mortal enemy.

“I know you like Regina George, but the dress code is Cady Heron.”

Bummer. You didn’t exactly plan on attending as a sexy bunny in fishnets and knee-high boots, but you don’t intend on wearing a Party City outfit, neither. It’s only the 6th though, so you still have a week and some change to outfit plan.

You frown, “Why the change? None of his past parties have had much of a dress code.”

“Because Chenle is also stuck babysitting his baby brother on Valentine’s day while his parents are having a date night,” Haechan answers. “I’m not saying you have to dress like a prude, but don’t dress like a slut, either.”

Ignoring the insinuation behind his words, you don’t miss the fact he said also. “What do you mean also? Don’t tell me…”

“Exactly what you think. Dad is whisking my stepmom away on a romantic evening date to only God knows where, and Jungwoo is busy with his girlfriend, so me being the sole single-pringle in the family gave him the bright idea to have me baby sit,” he explains, though he doesn’t seem burdened by the task. “I don’t really mind, though. It’d be one thing if I planned on getting some pussy that night, but no one’s smashing at a party where there’s children. I hope not, at least.”

You wince at that. You hope not, too. It’s a setback that you have to re-plan your outfit, but on the plus side, Haechan can and will help you decide this time, even if you have to force him.

So that’s where you find yourself a couple hours later, your bedroom a mess as the aftermath of the meticulous care you’ve put into your self-styling. You’ve narrowed it down to two outfit selections; option A, the white crop-top with the cute pink pants; or option B, the pretty and red mini-dress with stilettos. It’s a little embarrassing that hours of your indecisiveness have led you to this conclusion, but you want to choose the perfect outfit that’s also not overbearing.

“And I have to help you why?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends are for, duh.”

Haechan’s favorite thing about your place is you have all his utmost favorite games—and that literally everything there is like a piece of you, from the decoration to the smell of your perfume bottles you keep in your bathroom. He’d never tell you that, though—so he wasn’t too enthusiastic about being interrupted from his video-gaming session. But then, he realized he gets a special preview of your Valentine’s day outfit, and Haechan loves the way you dress, probably an abnormal amount. Slutty or prude-y.

“Then what’cha waiting for? Strip for me, princess,” he demands jokingly. It isn’t normal for you to feel bashful by anything a guy says, but everything is so different with Haechan. It’s the littlest, simplist things that drive you over the edge, that make you want him in ways you probably, scratch that, definitely shouldn’t.

And all the questions, assumptions, and rumors regarding your nonexistent relationship with Haechan aren’t exactly unwarranted. You two flirt and touch an abnormal amount, and while it’s common knowledge that Haechan is a touchy person, and you’re a natural flirt, people say it’s extreme between you two.

That makes you laugh. When it comes to the tension between you both that people speak of, you wish you could see what they see.

“You want to watch me strip?” You’re genuinely surprised, only the other day he seemed repulsed by the thought of you naked. “That’s new. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, silently confirming what Jaemin told you at the cafe, but you shake the thought away, refusing to let it spur you on. It doesn’t mean anything. “Anyways. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before, baby girl. Now, you gonna strip or what?”

“I’m stripping, I’m stripping! Relax, Liam Payne!” It’s really nothing he hasn’t seen before, because Haechan’s seen naked girls, and he’s seen you half-naked before, so neither of you actually care. You peel off your top, slowly and in a strip tease sort of way and look him in the eye, giggling once you catch him shaking his head. You don’t repeat the movement with your shorts though, simply taking them off and picking up your new shirt to slip it off the hanger.

Successfully discreet, Haechan wallows in the sight of you half-naked for as long as he can before you’re slipping on the crop top and the pink pants. Now that he thinks about it, he bought you those pants, and darn do they make your ass look good. Then he realizes he’s thinking about your ass and taking not as discreet looks at it, and shakes the thought away.

“So?” Your voice cuts through the silence. “What do you think?”

He needs a moment to gather himself and recollect his thoughts, because he feels like turning on Destiny’s Child’s Bootylicious and if spoke his mind he would definitely say something he’d regret. Like, I could fuck the shit out of you. He doesn’t think he should say that.

“What do you mean, what do I think? I bought you those pants, I’d be damned if I thought you didn’t look good in them,” Haechan supplies, making you roll your eyes in response.

“Very underwhelming reaction. I wanted you to fall out on the floor and pass out for a few seconds with your hand on your chest,” you pout.

“Definitely not doing all that,” he chuckles. “But you do look good enough for… somebody to do it. Anyways, it’s stripping time again. Get in that dress for me, princess.”

If he doesn’t stop with the pet names you’re going to combust. You hide it though, taking off outfit option A and putting on option B. You feel confident in your appearance, with or without him, but the way Haechan’s practically gawking at you does boost said confidence.

“What about this one?”

Okay, so Haechan’s one-hundred percent biased in his decision—or maybe he isn’t, since he didn’t buy this outfit—though nonetheless, he loves this dress on you. In his personal opinion, you’ll look good in anything you wear, but the way this particular dress hugs your figure perfectly is a bonus. He knows all eyes are going to be on you the moment you step inside Chenle’s house, and maybe he’s going to have to keep you and Dohwan close to his side.

Rather than replying verbally, Haechan walks forward and pulls you into a kiss. His hands dip around your waist, skirting the area until he’s gripping you like he’s afraid of letting go.

And as always, you melt into his lips. Like ice to the sun, or wax to a flame. It’s the umpteenth kiss in your whole lifetime, but Haechan always makes it feel like the first time. Like two love-struck highschoolers, except with a lot more experience. Haechan kisses you like he loves you, and you hate it. You might even loathe it.

His fingers slip down your hips, to your revealed thighs, like he just so happens to know that’s one of your weak spots. Luckily you’ve learned some of his weak spots too, and not really thinking, you don’t hesitate to aim for his most sensitive one - his neck. You can’t get used to how beautiful he sounds as he moans, your lips pressing into his sweet spot and leaving undoubtedly a mark.

“Fuck,” Haechan moans, “you’re my kryptonite, you know that?”

“A kiss is all it takes for you to fold?” You gasp out with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

Your grin widens. “Make me.”

Just as he leans in, about to pin you down to your duvet and kiss the life out of you while you’re thinking that maybe this is the tension people speak of, his phone rings in his back pocket. It feels like snapping out some trance or spell, like a reverse Cupid’s arrow, and he instantly backs off of you.

He takes a look at his phone screen. “I um, I gotta take this.”

Biting your lip, you nod. “Okay.”

“You look great though,” he comments, and you smile thinly at him as he slips from between your fingertips yet again.

It seems that you’re left all alone, pathetically wet, and wondering if that person on the other line is Hope - but you try to shake that thought off.

Sighing, you flop against your sheets. Love is some extremely cruel, extremely rigged game that only lucky people win, and it seems that Luck has sided with the evil that is Cupid. You’ve been dealt cards, and Haechan refuses to show you his hand. All you can do is watch it play out.

Haechan knew that something was dangerously off when Jaemin bought him a brand-new bag of Tootsie Pops without being asked, and invited you over for a movie night with the guys, offering to open up with you and Haechan’s all-time favorite movie, Mean Girls. He even offered to play The Kissing Booth next! Everyone else instantly protested of course, but the fact he offered in the first place is borderline suspicious.

Sure, Jaemin’s not the devil or anything, depending on who you ask. He’s… kind, and he can be a sweetheart. But Jaemin does nothing for free, and Haechan can’t shake the thought that this is planned bribery. And it isn’t hush-money. Jaemin doesn’t buy silence, he buys words.

By the time Jaemin asks Haechan to help him with the popcorn, he’s ninety-nine point nine percent sure that something is definitely wrong here. Yet still, he follows him into the kitchen.

“Alright, what’s up man?” Haechan wastes zero time, wanting to get to the bottom of all this. “I know you want something out of me. There’s no other reason you would offer to play The Kissing Booth, or buy me Tootsie Pops for free.”

Jaemin scoffs, but he doesn’t try to front, “Glad you know. Since we’re on the same page, let’s address this thing with you and y/n.”

“That’s what this is about?” Haechan grumbles. “I’ve told you, I don’t have feelings for her!” He whisper-yells.

Jaemin has heard that far too many times for it to be convincing. He’s positive that even Helen Keller herself could tell you two are hopelessly in love. Takes one to know one, he thinks. It seems the three of you must be blind, because you and Haechan are oblivious to your feelings for one another, and it’s painfully obvious.

“And Mary wasn’t a virgin,” Jaemin says ironically, making Haechan roll his eyes. “If you’re not in love with her, then explain what the hell is going on between you two. I know that she’s your best friend or whatever, but you don’t act like it at all. From a fresh perspective, someone would totally think you’re in love.”

Haechan hates that he’s right. It doesn’t make sense the amount of times you’ve gone to public places and had cashiers refer to you as a couple, or elderly people ask you if you’re together. Because you’re not. You’re best friends, and even if Haechan wants to be more than that, that’s his label. And he’s sure he’s stuck with it for life.

“You’re fucking Hope to distract yourself from your feelings for y/n,” Jaemin adds, and it’s a statement, not a question.

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Jaemin interjects. “Head over heels, in love with a girl you think doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you’re also being an ass to her, whether you know it or not.”

If Haechan was in a situation where he needed to simplify the reason you two click so well, he’d say chalk it up to compatibility and say it’s because you’re like a mirror of one another. Which also means he knows you, better than anyone else even, and he knows neither of you do the whole catching feelings things anymore. You like to fuck and flirt, and fuck some more, to avoid the fact that you love too hard. If you fuck people whose names you don’t even remember, it doesn’t mean a darn thing that you two make out.

No one really knows about that part yet. But they do know that you like to fuck, and that’s why Haechan thinks that if he’s an ass, then that means so are you. What the fuck is he doing that you aren’t?

Even if he is an ass, what is he supposed to do? He’s only recently realized that damn, he actually does have feelings for you, which is where Hope comes along and yes, he is fucking her to distract himself from you. So what? It’s not like it’s working, he’s still stuck on you, obsessed with the thought of you, craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He still loves you, and it’s so scary because no matter what his friends say, he thinks they don’t know you or your relationship like he does. They think they do, but they don’t.

“I’m not in love,” Haechan lies through his teeth, “maybe I’m in like.”

Jaemin snorts. In like? That’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. Not in love his fucking ass. “You’re in denial, that’s what you are.”

Haechan grumbles, trying desperately not to raise his voice so that the others don’t hear him from the living room, “Even if I did like her—and I’m telling you, I don’t—it wouldn’t change anything because she doesn’t like me.”

“You two are the same breed of oblivious and stupid,” Jaemin takes the popcorn out of the microwave, pouring it all into a bowl. He’s even laughing, much to Haechan’s confusion, but he’s apparently unbothered by Haechan’s lack of confession, “but fine. Lie to my face. I still have a backup plan.”

“A back-up plan?” Haechan repeats, lost.

“I just thought it would be nice of me to try and get you to confess before I have to work a Valentine’s day miracle, but unfortunately you two are a match made in heaven—both terribly stubborn,” Jaemin says vaguely, not really answering Haechan’s question, “so I guess we’ll all know the truth at Chenle’s party.”

Jaemin exits with the popcorn bowls before Haechan can even part his lips to ask another question, and he stands there, shocked and unsure of how to react. He’s concerned, though. Jaemin has something cooking (besides the popcorn), and he isn’t sure what, but it’s Na fucking gossiping blabbermouth Jaemin. That means it can’t be anything good.

So apparently when you and Haechan had that heated makeout session the other day, you left a trail - or in other words, you marked his neck the fuck up.

You hadn’t noticed because he covered it up with concealer, but you’re in the middle of another one of those when he stops you, preventing you from repeating your mistake.

“You can’t do that. People will see,” Haechan frowns. You wonder what’s the problem with hickeys. Is he embarrassed? No way. Haechan? Embarrassed? About hickeys? He has much bigger fish to fry.

In contrast, you’re over the moon. Even if he isn’t yours, marking him up makes you feel like he belongs to you. Plus, other people will see, and they’ll know that he isn’t theirs, either. Haechan also has a beautiful neck, you realize as you stare at his skin. It makes you wonder if there’s anything about him that isn’t beautiful.

“Would that be so bad?” You ask. “You’d look sexy all marked up by me.”

Haechan groans, “Do you ever think with your head and not your pussy?”

“I wish my pussy was my head. My head’s just so full of you,” you sigh dramatically.

It’s rare for Haechan to blush, but you somehow manage to make him full-on flush sometimes and you take that as an achievement. It’s partially the reason you love flirting with him so much, he’s so reactive. His reactions are cute sometimes.

“Be serious for 5 seconds,” he whines, and you giggle.

“I was serious,” you insist, “but fine, I’ll think with my head since yours is clearly not working. No one’s gonna assume they’re from me, Hyuck. Just tell them they’re from one of your hoes.”

“I know, but it’s not them I’m worried about. It’s, um…” he trails off.

You’re confused, blinking. If not your friends, then who on earth—oh, for fucks sake.

“It’s Hope,” you utter tonelessly.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he wonders why you suddenly sound so dry, and then the whole grocery shopping thing seeps back into his mind. You obviously don’t like Hope, and it’s not just you, really. Lots of people don’t like her. But Haechan needs a pretty face to compete with the image of yours in his head, even if it isn’t winning. “She kinda likes me, and—”

“Do you like her?” You don’t mean to ask so fast. It slips, like your mouth has a mind of its own.

Haechan shrugs. No, he doesn’t like her. He likes you, but he thinks that maybe he can somehow convince himself it’s the other way around. So he replies, “Maybe.”

Fuck. You try not to appear suddenly devoid of life, forcing a cheery smile. “That’s… nice,” you lie through your teeth. “Let me take this opportunity to have one last kiss before I possibly never will again?”

Haechan snickers, to silently say as if. He isn’t wrong for it, either. One kiss is never one kiss with him — never has been, never will be. There’s a reason you both bonded over bombing a math exam.

D-day rolls around, and you’re eyeing your frame in your full-length mirror, smoothing your palms over your dress as you give yourself a quick once-over before the clock strikes 7PM. You look like that bitch, and everyone in that party is going to fucking know it because you’re going to walk in there like that bitch. Fuck Cupid. You don’t need his stupid bow. And fuck Haechan, too. He’s your ride, but he’s gonna ditch you at some point in the party like he always does. It’ll be no different now, and this time, you’ll be the first one to leave.

The chime of the doorbell jolts you from your mental slumber, and you quickly reach for your purse then head towards the door with a heavy heartbeat. You know he’s already seen you in this dress, he chose it for fucks sake, but there’s something else that gets your heart racing—no. You can’t think about him. Fuck Haechan, remember? He’s no good for you.

“Here goes nothing,” you mutter to yourself, palm on the doorknob, “you can do this.”

Haechan’s sucks in a breath the moment you open the door. You look gorgeous. You always do, but in this particular moment, you look better than you ever have before. Those corny romance sayings usually make him laugh with mirth, but he’s genuinely convinced you look better everyday that he sees you. All dressed up like this, or not.

“You look so pretty, Auntie!” Dohwan beats him to a compliment.

You bend down to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Thank you, Dohwan. You look very handsome.” And then you look at Haechan.

He looks handsome as well, unfortunately. Jet black hair, exposed forehead, and his outfit is black with red hearts in the center of the shirt. You try not to pay him too much mind, but your heart and the place between your thighs don’t seem to agree with your mind. He catches you looking at him, and feels a twinge of anxiousness in his heart. Get it together, man, he tells himself. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t get nervous looking at pretty girls. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate about his actions, either, wondering if he should hold your hand, he doesn’t rethink what he should say. It all comes to him naturally.

“Yeah, you look beautiful,” he settles, mentally cursing himself for being unable to think of anything else. He blames you. Ever since you first snuck in his mind, you’ve been living rent-free there, and make it hard to think about anything else sometimes. That’s why he thought that needed distractions.

If you could relay the message to your heart, you’d tell it stop beating. Instead, you mask your emotion, smiling. “Thank you, likewise. Now c’mon, we gotta get there by 7:30!”

Haechan’s saddened by the dismissal, but you don’t catch his face as you walk to his car.

If you ignore him, you can do this.

Haechan cannot do this.

Something isn’t right. It wasn’t right the second he noticed you gave him a simple, rushed compliment, not bothering to make some sexual remark that usually makes Haechan’s cheeks feel like fire. You didn’t even kiss him before you got in the car. And Haechan’s sure you’ve been avoiding him like the plague, scurrying off and getting lost in the red and pink sea before he could even ask you if you wanted to check out the drink menu.

He doesn’t know where you are, and that haunts him. Turns out Chenle is paying Yangyang, Ten and Jisung to keep the kids entertained on one end of the house, whilst the adults do adult-y things on the other. You could be with someone else for all he knows, hell, you probably are. He was practically fuming when he saw some people staring at you as you walked in.

“Uh oh, I think y/n divorced Haechan,” Chenle jokes, and a choir of laughs follows suit.

Haechan grumbles, “A guy can’t miss his girl best friend?”

“Of course, you can,” Chenle drawls, “but everyone knows she’s more than just a friend to you. Like even if you aren’t together, there’s no way you guys don’t have feelings for each other.”

“Right? And they’re so cute together, too. A literal match made in heaven by angel Cupid,” Jaemin agrees, speaking as though Haechan isn’t right there.

“You’re dating y/n?” gasps Karina, overhearing Jaemin much to Haechan’s dismay. Oh, great, she’s as much as a blabbermouth as he is. The whole world’s going to think Haechan’s dating you in five minutes or less.

“No!”

“Yes, he is, spread the word,” Jaemin says, already knowing he doesn’t have to tell her. Karina’s mumbling I knew it under her breath before jogging somewhere.

“You know,” Haechan starts, downing a shot because if he’s not at least tipsy he’s going to die at this party, “she’s been making me watch murder documentaries with her and I’ve definitely picked up a thing or two. I’d be careful.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Please. You’re going to be kissing my ass and the ground that I walk on by the time this party’s over.”

There it goes. Haechan wonders what’s so special about tonight that Jaemin’s been hinting at vaguely. It’s been keeping him on his toes, but he doesn’t ask because he knows Jaemin, and he isn’t going to tell him a thing. The one time this guy wants to keep something secret.

An hour flies by, and Haechan still hasn’t seen you. He’s looked for you, and refuses to believe his eyes are somehow missing you, even though you’re in a crowd. He literally went up the stars and gazed over the railing for a better view, and you were no where to be found. You’ve refused to answer your phone, too, and Haechan doesn’t know what to do. He would just start talking to some random chick, but that’s not what Haechan wants. He doesn’t want some random chick. He wants to be with you. Hold you. Touch you. Kiss you, with no shame, no fear, in front of everyone, and he isn’t in denial about it. He wants you.

And Jaemin is fed up.

“Alright, I’m tired of you moping around drinking like a divorced man. Let’s go to the kitchen,” Jaemin suggests. Or commands, but still.

Haechan quirks a brow. “Where there’s nothing but more drinks?”

“Trust me, I’m not letting you drink anymore tonight. You have a wife and a kid to drive home,” Jaemin jokes. Usually he’d deny any sort of relationship with you that isn’t best-friendship, but Haechan simply shakes his head, following his friend and roommate into the kitchen.

Then he sees you, and his jaw doesn’t just drop, but it falls flat on the ground, bounces a little, and comes back down. You’re clinging to Chenle’s side with a confused face, equally as surprised to see him, though not very delighted.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?”

You stare at one another.

“Stop copying me!”

“Stop copying me!”

Jaemin and Chenle stare at one another, then stare at you two staring at one another, and stare at one another again.

“I hate to interrupt your… stare-off, but there’s a reason we brought you two here,” Jaemin interjects, making you two finally split gazes as you stare at him, confused.

“Which is?”

“Which is?”

You glare at him. Jaemin’s success was short-lived, it seems.

“Drum roll, please,” he says, and Chenle begins tapping against the counter, “Dohwan!”

Suddenly, Dohwan pops up from around the corner. He’s on the completely wrong side of the house, and while he’s under adult supervision, you still wonder why he’s here.

You blink. “What’s he doing here?”

Jaemin smirks. “I’m glad you asked. Dohwan tells me he’s witnessing some very interesting sights of the two of you. Go ahead and tell us what you saw, kiddo.”

“I saw Haechan and Auntie y/n kissing, like mommy and daddy do!” Dohwan shares, grimacing in disgust. If you weren’t practically fearing for your life right now, you’d probably laugh at his reaction.

“And how often do you see this?” Chenle adds.

“Um…” the kid ponders, “every time Auntie y/n comes over. I heard them say they wanted to keep it a secret from me, but they’re not very good at it.”

Haechan shoots you a panicked look, and you’re wearing the exact same one. By the time you realize that this is what Jaemin’s been hinting at this whole time, it’s much too late. Your secret has been exposed to the worst people ever, and now they’re definitely going to think you’re dating. 

“Thank you for your input, Dohwan,” Jaemin smiles, then turns to look at you and Haechan. You’re both frozen and stiff, unsure of how to respond. “So, anything to say about this?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Haechan’s quick to say. You hope no one catches the way your face falters with hurt for a split second. “If you want me to be honest, then fine, I will. Yeah, we kiss. We’ve been kissing since high school, but it didn’t mean anything then and it doesn’t mean anything now. We just, I don’t know, do it for fun.”

Chenle deadpans, “So you just kiss for pure, innocent fun.”

“Exactly,” Haechan nods. “It means nothing.”

It means something to me, you think to yourself, and when you notice the silence in the room, you gaze up to see everyone’s eyes on you, Haechan’s a little wide. Oh, fuck.

“I said that aloud, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Jaemin grins. He was right. “Is there something you want to share with the class?”

Stupidly, you decide to look at Haechan, and he’s re-lost his composure, frozen up and stiff all over again. Your heart is pounding harder than it has been all night. It’s partially the alcohol, but you can feel it in your veins and all around you. It won’t leave you alone, and looking at Haechan, it’s faster, as if to say he’s the one I want.

So you choose to make another decision that you might possibly regret, but you have to get this off your chest. It isn’t news to anyone but Haechan anyways.

“Donghyuck,” you start, and he knows it’s getting serious because you just said his government name. You literally never call him by his government name. “I know we agreed to keep things platonic, and for it to mean nothing, but I want you. Like really, really bad. I think I—no, everyone’s right, I really am, extremely in love with you. If you don’t feel the same I understand, I just had to get this off my che—”

You aren’t given the chance to finish before Haechan swoops you in his arms, reaching for your waist as he pulls you into a kiss. There’s a chorus of cheers from Chenle and Jaemin, followed by a shriek of disgust from Dohwan as he covers his eyes, but you two aren’t trying to hide anymore, you want to scream from the rooftops that you’re in love. Yes, the infamous Lee Donghyuck and y/n know more than flirting and fucking. You’re in love, drunk off of a sip of it and the taste of Haechan’s lips, and god, has kissing your best friend never felt better.

“Let’s give the newlywed couple some privacy now,” Jaemin says with a grin. Gosh, he really is the spawn of Cupid, but you have to thank him. This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for his stupid ‘gotcha!’ plan. “You two work this out.”

The three of them pile out, and you and Haechan part from one another to breathe. You stay in comfortable silence for a moment, his hands slipping into yours.

“Your hands are sweating,” you comment after a while.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s the middle of February.”

“So? Global warming is real, you know,” Haechan shrugs, refusing to acknowledge the fact that his hand is sweating because he’s nervous. He’s accepted that you make him feel all warm inside and his heart feel like mush, but he still isn’t used to not hiding the way you make him feel.

You laugh but don’t press things. “Newlywed couple, huh. Can’t be, you still haven’t popped the question.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, too. “Then will you take my hand in marriage and take me as your illegally wedded husband?”

You hum, pretending to contemplate, “Hmm, I don’t know. You sure you don’t wanna marry a giant cardboard Tootsie Pop cutout? Or what about that girl? What happened to her, by the way, I thought you said you liked her.”

Haechan groans, not really wanting to think about her right now, “No more Hope. Ironically, she’s a lost cause. I had to cut shit with her because she can’t comprehend what a fling is. She wanted a relationship, and you know, I lied to you when I said that I might want her. I didn’t know you liked me back until, like, now, so I was just saying shit in hopes of convincing myself I could stop liking you. That planned failed, though.”

His words lift a massive weight off of your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe now. Take that, bitch, you think with a smirk. She was giggling in your face so hard at the grocery store, but you’re having the last laugh.

You tilt your head. “What about the Tootsie Pops?”

“Yeah, sorry but I can’t give them up as easily. Would you mind a Tootsie Pop bouquet?”

Gosh, this is the man you love. You roll your eyes, but smile as you reply, “You know, you’re like a Tootsie Pop.”

If Haechan were a dog, his ears would perk up right now. “How come?”

“I’ll never know how long I’ll be able to kiss you without wanting to fuck you,” you lean in his ear to purr, voice tickling his neck. You eye it and his lips, and lord knows you can’t wait to finally be able to mark him up again.

“Yeah? Wanna go home, put Dohwan to sleep, and let me take this dress off you?” He grips at your waist, his hand resting there with the burning urge to dip lower. He bites his lip.

“Thought you drew the line at sticking your dick in me,” you joke.

“That was when I was in denial about wanting you,” Haechan whispers, “but now I can admit to myself that even though you amazing in this dress, I wanna take it off of you. Your body’s perfect.”

“I kinda hate the scar on my thigh.”

“Don’t. It provides depth to your character. It makes someone wonder how you got it, the story of how it happened,” he answers, ever so deeply.

“Poetic,” you snort, “can’t tell if you’re giving me Bruno Mars or John Legend vibes more right now.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, smiling. “You said you’d never know how long you’d be able to kiss me without dying to fuck me, right?”

“I never said dying.”

He ignores you, “Then let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

Your lips wind up pressed firmly to his, with your hands on his cheek and his palms on your hips yet again. It’s fiercer than ever, Haechan’s kissing you like he doesn’t want to let you breathe, like he wants to stay in this moment with you forever. He kisses you with love and lust, with passion and desire, with emotion and no more fear in his chocolate-y eyes. You don’t regret kissing Haechan that day. It took a while, but it brought you to this moment where you can finally call him yours. And that one more kiss stuff is bullshit. His lips are yours and vice versa, and as you’re by each other’s side, you’ll never stop kissing him. And he’ll never stop kissing you.

“They’re here!” Karina suddenly bursts into the kitchen, pointing at you and Haechan. “Look! I told you they were dating!”

Oh, god. You totally forgot about Karina’s stupid bet with Mark. Mark looks entirely devastated and surprised, devastated because that’s twenty-five bucks gone from his wallet, and surprised because he genuinely believed you and Haechan have been best friends this whole time. Technically, he isn’t wrong, but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt to tell them that.

Mark whines, “Oh, c’mon! I really thought you guys were just friends.”

“Pay up, loser,” Karina smirks, and with a pout, Mark pulls cash from his pockets.

Haechan looks at you, and while you don’t say anything, you can tell you’re both thinking the exact same thing. The whole campus is about to know you two are dating. Karina’s for sure going to tell everyone she knows, hell, probably even people she doesn’t know, and there’s a ninety-nine point nine percent chance of Jaemin raining your business on everyone in his latest report for the school newspaper.

You can’t say that you care, though. This is what you wanted, to unashamedly love Haechan, to be able to state it proudly in front of everyone, to let everyone know, to claim him as yours and yours only. So fuck Cupid. Fuck his bow, fuck his arrow, because this relationship is all a product of you and Haechan’s hard work and dedication.

Who needs Cupid’s bow when you have tasty lips and Tootsie-Pops?

“You’re telling me you’ve been in love with me for the past four years? Oh, you’re a soldier. I would have given up in the first month.”

You snort. Part of becoming Haechan’s girlfriend is the process of telling one another the secrets you’ve been keeping, such as how long you can been in love. Haechan’s been in love with you for a solid year, he thinks, maybe two, but it’s been almost four years for you, on the other hand.

“If only it were that easy,” you sigh. “Trust me, I tried getting over you by getting under other people—how Jessie Reyez of me—but that didn’t work out, obviously.”

“You are too much like me,” Haechan shakes his head. “What made you think we should anyways?”

“You mean, four years ago, or now?”

Haechan shrugs. “Either. Give me three reasons.”

“Oh, brace yourself. I could do a presentation on this. One, we know each other’s McDonald’s orders. Two, like you said, we’re very alike. When have we ever argued over pizza toppings?” You reason. “Three, I can’t imagine kissing anybody else. I mean, we’ve basically been practicing on each other for the past four years. I’m the reason you can kiss so good, it would insane for you make out with other people. Four, I have a fat ass and sometimes I catch you staring at—”

“I said three reasons!” Haechan cries, face blooming red as a rose.

“I could go for a fifth,” you grin, “we’re both terrible at math.”

“Damn right we are,” he mutters. “But that’s what makes us… us, isn’t it? The only reason we’re dating right now is because we couldn’t resist kissing each other after one time.”

He’s right. It practically only took one kiss to fall in love with Haechan. He’s giving you major Dua Lipa vibes right now.

“I know you’re thinking about that Dua Lipa song right now.”

You smirk. “You know me very well.”

He tilts his head. “And what else are you thinking about?”

“That you look like all I need,” you say in tune, making Haechan laugh. “And I just want to feel your skin on mine.”

“Then we should do something about that, right?” Haechan smirks back.

You’re kissing the smirk right off his lips seconds later, and this is where you decide that you just can’t get enough of him. Even if one kiss is all it takes, you’re greedy for more, and more, and more, until both your lips are swollen and you’re both gasping for air.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi, i love your works❤

can i request hurt comfort hcs with reader that have been down and empty for a long time with gallagher, blade, jing yuan and dan heng? ty!

Gallagher:

‘It’s okay to feel like down every now and then. No one is expecting you to constantly be happy and smiles all the time, that’s just not healthy.’ Gallagher would say as he sat himself next to you in bed. ‘So don’t blame yourself for feeling sad or feeling as though you’re running on empty because you shouldn’t, you’ll get back up in due time but until then let ol’ Gallagher pamper you a little bit. Okay?’

He knows how difficult it was for you during these times and so he would do anything and everything in his power to make things a lot more easier for you.

Making you food, help you in shower, making sure you’re hydrated, adjusting the blankets, anything Gallagher could possibly think of that could make your day better, he would do it in a heart beat.

He loves spoiling you rotten anyway he could and if you only needed him to cuddle you until you fell asleep, then he’ll take his job as your personal pillow with the upmost seriousness.

He may even playfully bite you but that depends on whether or not that was okay with you because if it was, then he’d nibble anywhere he could reach until he got you to let out a little chuckle, all the while keeping a strong grip on you as not to let you leave his embrace.

He just wants you to feel loved even if you were sad or feeling particularly empty because that’s what you deserve and be reminded of your worth as Gallagher would be damned if you forgot the person you were in the midst of everything else.

Dan heng:

‘I’ve found a book that you might like, mind if I read it to you?’

Dan Heng would do anything to make you feel comfortable in your current situation.

And one of the things he would do was read to you a book that he thought that you might like as you’d lay on him.

Sure he was a tad flustered but he reminded himself that he was doing this for you and would ease into it by having an arm pressed to your lower back as he read each passage of the book with ease.

He’d make sure you were well fed, hydrated and just cared for in general as he presses kisses into your face.

‘You’re going to be okay.’ He presses a kiss to your forehead.

‘You’re not a burden.’ He says as he presses a kiss against your nose.

‘You’ll get back up in your own time, no one else’s.’ He then presses a kiss to your chin.

He’d even reach out to the likes of Welt and March 7th on what else he could do to better help you during these times and use them in practice.

Dan heng would do anything to ensure that you were going to be okay.

He doesn’t want you to feel alone during these times that he’d decline going anywhere if he knew you were going to be left behind. For he’d rather be with you doing absolutely nothing than get into heap loads of trouble through no fault of his own.

Dan Heng prioritises you and your well-being above all else and will do everything in his power to make sure that you’d be okay.

Jing yuan:

He understands wholeheartedly of what you’re going through and will try his best in being whatever you may need during that time.

Whether it’d be a shoulder to cry on, a reassuring presence or just someone for you to open up to in due time. Jing Yuan was more than willing despite his hectic schedule as General.

However it didn’t matter how hectic his schedule may get because he’d always make time for you, or make up for the lack of time spent with you, regardless of whichever it was Jing Yuan was dedicated to put in time out of his day just so you knew he was thinking of you.

He also impeaches a bit of wisdom into you in hopes that it would help you navigate your emotions and understand them better as he takes you on small journeys.

‘Don’t feel ashamed for how you feel, for it’ll pass in due time whether that be today, next week, next month, it’ll pass regardless.’ Jing yuan would say softly as he cradles you against his chest. ‘So please don’t feel as though you are on some nonsensical timer to feel better and push all your ailments to one side because you’re not. I don’t know where you get this notion that you have to be okay all of the time because it’s just not inherently true.’ He adds as he rubs your back reassuringly and pressing a few simple kisses against your forehead and face.

‘I would much rather you feel your emotions and become acquainted with them rather then disregard them in general. As I believe all emotions have stories to tell for you to learn from as to prevent yourself from perpetuating your own hurt, pain and suffering.’ Jing yuan tells you as he walks with you through the bustling streets, making sure to keep you close to him when kids ran past without a care.

He would take you to special spots where it would be just the two of you enjoying everything and anything in its natural state.

Jing yuan would go above and beyond if it meant knowing that you were going to be okay.

Blade:

He would sit by your side in solidarity in hopes that his presence would bring you at least some form of comfort, knowing that someone would be ready and waiting for you no matter what.

Blade knew sympathy wasn’t what you were looking for as it would surely only make you feel worse than before. So he forgoes that straight away as more often the not Blade believes that sympathy does more harm then many people think, depending on the situation of course, but still it’s a statement he firmly stands by.

Words of comfort aren’t his forte but he makes an attempt just for you.

‘You’re not weak for wanting respite.’ He would say as he holds your hand.

‘You’re not weak for feeling upset or empty, it’s natural for you to feel negative emotions as well as the positive ones, otherwise it becomes unbalanced.’ He would say as his fingertips traced your features with unnatural gentleness. ‘For example you’re meant to be happy, but you’re also meant to feel sad. You’re meant to be excited, but you’re also meant to feel scared.’ He adds as he lets you play with his long silky hair however you pleased.

Do whatever you want to him, Blade didn’t care if it meant making you feel even remotely better.

Play with his fingers, toy with his clothes, boop him on the nose, it didn’t matter as he’d sit there and take it with the patience of a saint.

Anyone who dare took the piss out of you when you’re most vulnerable better be ready to run as Blade was more then ready to withdraw his sword within a moments notice.

[ladykailitha]

Eddie and Nancy

Just giving my brain a break from the Secret Tunnel (aka the game show) story. I still have two chapters to get through and my brain needs a cool down.

I've seen a lot of headcanons that Eddie is the Wheeler children's older half brother because of how much they look like each other.

But may I propose instead: cousins.

Hear me out.

You have first born, Elizabeth. Absolute hippie child. All about that free love, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. She learns how to play guitar, falls in with the charming and cool, Al Munson. They plan to tour the country his beat up old truck. But before that can happen, Elizabeth gets pregnant with Eddie. So she marries Al.

Then you have Karen, the younger sister. Bright, demure, absolute golden child. She dyes her hair and blows out the curls to more like waves so she doesn't look like Elizabeth anymore.

She does what she was raised her whole life to do. Get married to a good boy so they can have good children and pay taxes and never do anything fun.

When Elizabeth dies, Karen refuses to go to the funeral, hates that her name is even in the obituary at all. Then three years later when Al is sent to prison, CPS calls her first.

She's the boy's aunt. She has a comfortable home, and bringing him in would barely dent their finances. But Karen refuses. She won't have that delinquent anywhere near her children.

So they go to Wayne. Wayne who really doesn't have the space or the money to take care a little boy almost teenager. But he looks into those big brown eyes and can't say no.

They keep apart until the murders in town start in Wayne's own god damn trailer. He keeps his mouth shut when Nancy comes up to him asking about Eddie. He would like to throw it in her face that he knows who she is and that he knows full well that Karen would throw a fucking fit if she found out where her daughter was. But he won't. It's not the girl's fault her mother is a bitch.

After Vecna (and Eddie NOT dying) Nancy is sent to the attic to see if she can find some of Mike's old things to donate as a lot of Nancy's went to Holly. She finds an old trunk and though locked it comes apart in her hands. In it she finds dozens of pictures of her mom with beautiful girl with flying dark brown curls and sparkling eyes.

She smiles as she reminds her of Eddie.

Her mother calls out for her to hurry and slips one of the pictures in her back jeans pocket. Nancy closes the trunk and hurries back to her mother.

Then because Nancy can't leave a mystery well enough alone, she goes digging. All while Eddie and Max are in a coma, Nancy works on her mystery.

She finds her answer in the most unlikely of places. Joyce Byers's year book. She had it out showing her boys the outrageous hair styles they had in her day.

There two rows down from Lawrence Byers is an Elizabeth Childress. She's got ribbons in her hair and smiling brightly at camera. So full of life.

Childress.

She closes her eyes. There is no doubt this is her mother's sister. A sister Nancy never knew anything about.

She points her out to Joyce. "Oh, I remember her. Such a sweet girl. It's really too bad she fell in with that Munson boy. Or rather the wrong Munson boy."

She flips the pages and on the same row as her, is Wayne Munson staring up at her. So happy and free. The Vietnam would too soon take that from him. "That's Wayne. Such a good boy. Elizabeth would have thrived with him. But Wayne was shy and more interested in getting good grades than girls."

Joyce flips back to the seniors with Jim and Lonnie and began searching for the M's. "There." She pointed at another boy. Alan Munson. "He was trouble from the moment he was born. But he had a motorcycle and a leather jacket. Lizzy fell hard. They got married right out of high school, I heard."

Jonathan and Nancy share a look of shock.

"What happened to her?" Jonathan asks.

"Cancer," Joyce says sadly, "poor thing."

Armed with her knowledge and a borrowed yearbook, Nancy marches right up to her mother and slams the yearbook in front of her. The picture Nancy took from the attic serves as bookmark and she shoves both at her mother.

There is no denying it now. All the proof is right there in black and white.

"This is why you didn't want to join the D&D club my freshman year, isn't it? Because it was Eddie's club?"

Karen buries her head in her hands. And the truth just starts spilling out.

"And that boy is just like his father!" Karen cries. "He might have not have killed those kids but he was a drug dealer."

"To keep the lights on his trailer!" Nancy yells back. "If you and Dad had taken him in maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. Maybe he be a better person."

"Or maybe he would have dragged you other children with him!"

"If you really thought that Mike wouldn't have been allow in Hellfire either!"

It's at this point Mike walks in and suddenly Karen is caught.

She breaks down and explains that Eddie had helped her with her car right before Mike started high school. So as a way to return the favor she let Mike join.

Nancy heads to the hospital and manages to get into see Eddie.

Wayne tells her only family is allowed to see him and Nancy smiles.

She knows.

Then Eddie wakes up, falls for Steve, the whole party teases Steve about keeping it in the family and Karen gets her head out of her ass and everyone lives happily ever after.

The end.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 20: You Were There

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV, Rosemary (OC) POV.

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.9K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just to be sure. Angst, Cursing, Fluff, References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situations, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Reader POV

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? I’m not too heavy?” You ask cuddling into Ben.

He was leaning against the antique wooden headboard with you laying  against chest, his body curving around your back where the two of you were entwined together. Your knees were pulled up in front of you, with Ben’s legs stretched out long on either side of your hips while the photo album you brought was perched on your thighs. His arms were wrapped firmly around your waist, head looking over your shoulder where you rested back against his toned stomach and muscular chest. He was warm and perfect, the hardness of his muscles contrasting against the softness of your curves, causing you to relax deeper against him as you laid there together, and making you feel like you belonged there with him, like he was made just for you and you were made just for him. You couldn’t remember feeling this relaxed in a long time and couldn’t believe that you forgot how good it felt to be in his arms.

It was the first time that the two of you had tried anything like this, besides the morning you woke up with him after your birthday with your head on his chest, the morning when you told him you loved him and everything fell apart. But you weren't thinking about that right now, you weren't thinking about Countess, or the past, all you were thinking about was being  present in the moment with him. You thought that after everything that had happened in the past 24 hours you deserved that. You both deserved that.

The house was quiet, everyone had gone to bed except Rosie, who you knew was awake because you heard the gentle rustle of pages every few moments and you knew that she was reading one of those worn paper backs that she always carried around with her. Each weekend she would drag you and Lou to her favorite used bookstore, Inky's Inspirations, where she would browse through dusty shelves looking for treasures while Lou sat in the kids section flipping through the picture books giggling, and while you sipped an iced coffee and avoided the romance sections where there were countless Vought published Soldier Boy fictional romance novels. The ones that Stan Edgar and Legend thought would enhance Ben's image as America's Heartthrob and make him more “readily available” to the people of United States, and despite Ben’s initial protests,  you knew that Ben liked them because no matter the book, the descriptions of Ben’s naked body were gratuitous.

Honestly the descriptions were rarely exaggerations. You think to yourself feeling the way Ben’s muscular body curves around you leaving very little to the imagination.

Well. Not exactly little. Your cheeks heat with the thought, heartbeat spiking and hoping that he couldn’t hear it.

But you figured that Rosemary needed at least a few pages to escape tonight.

No, I’m not thinking about her or what she snarled at Ben and I’m determined to make him forget it too.

So now you were focused on Ben, how he was holding you close, molding his body around yours and making you feel safer than you ever had. And although the two of you had shared a bed almost every night since you were ten, when you would fall asleep and wake up in his arms the next morning, this felt new. New because every loving kiss he pressed to your shoulder made you feel light, new because each time Ben moved or flexed you couldn't help but feel your cheeks warm, and new because every few moments you remembered that Ben genuinely wanted to be there with you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him and had loved you all these years.

“Sweetheart you’re not too heavy. You’re perfect.”

“Not everyone has super strength-“ You bite the inside of your cheek, plucking your thumb against the front cover of the photo album in your lap.

Ben adjusts you in his arms to pull you further on top of him. “It’s not about having super strength honey. You’re perfect. Have been since we were kids and you’re just as beautiful now as you’ve always been.” Ben traces his lips down your throat, beard scratching against the sensitive skin. He had kept his promise about keeping it just for you and you were definitely reaping the benefits. He moves his mouth slowly back upwards so he can brush them against the curve of your ear breath hot against your skin. "And I love having you on top of me doll."

A shiver travels down your spine. “But-“

“No buts. Well unless we’re talking about yours, which is really-.”

“Ben!” Your face turns bright red.

“What? You’re sexy as hell.” Ben purrs tightening his grip on your body, nudging his nose into the shadow of your jaw, and you feel his smile against your skin.

It's not a word that you had heard anyone use to describe you often. The one time you’d heard it was when you’d told Ben that you’d never been with anyone before. You were beautiful, cute, but never sexy.

However the night you and Ben slept together for the first time you felt it, felt sexy the whole night you were with him, powerful because it was you making him fall apart, your name on his lips, you touching him while he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

"Sweetheart?" Ben raises his hand from your waist to your chin, turning your face so you're looking at him over your shoulder.

"Hmm?" You whisper lost in the memory of what it was like for him to make love to you.

Probably shouldn't be thinking about that while I'm laying on top of him.

"How many others have there been?" He almost murmurs it, eyes soft in the warm light from the lamp on the bedside table. It was the same question he asked you when you stood outside Rosemary's apartment building, the one that you avoided.

You don't answer immediately.

"Are you afraid to tell me?" Ben whispers with a frown, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. "That you think I won't want you if you've been with someone else. That I won't love you anymore? That I'll leave you again?"

"Ben-" You breathe.

"I know that you're still trying to forgive me, and that's okay, but I don't want you to be afraid to talk to me or tell me things Sweetheart. I know you don't believe me, but I never want to leave you again. I want to be here with you." His gaze is earnest.  "And I know you keep saying how much it'll hurt you if I leave again, but I swear that if you left it would destroy me."

"Ben-" Tears burn in your eyes with his confession, seeing how he was opening up to you, willing to push past what he'd been conditioned to believe from his father about sharing his feelings, to assure you further how much you meant to him.

His hand drags through your hair gently brushing it back from your face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You reach back over your shoulder, turning your face into his, noses nudging together as you kiss him.

“No.” He shakes his head softly. “I really love you.”

You snort, smiling into his mouth, your hand curling in his hair. “How is that different?”

“When I came back you said that I didn’t know what love was, but I do. Love is you. You make me so happy. I don’t remember being happy ever except when I’m around you. I’ve never loved anyone but you y/n. And I’m never going to love anyone else like I love you.”

“Ben-“ Tears crest and fall down your cheeks, but Ben brushes them away with his thumb.

“I would do anything for you without question. Nothing you ask me is too much. You mean everything to me. I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it. I spent forty years without you and I don’t want to spend any amount of time away from you. I’m so sorry.”

“Ben we’ve already discussed your apology. You don’t have to apologize anymore.”

“I just still think I have to. I have to fix this.”

“You are.” You smile at him.

“Yeah?” He looks deeply into your eyes. Ben's arm tightens on your waist pulling you further back into his chest. “So you’re happy?”

The question makes you hesitate.

Am I happy?

You think about the past 24 hours, when Ben made you feel more loved than you’d ever had, when he acted like you were everything he ever wanted, when he made you finally believe that this wasn’t one sided, and when he reminded you of the boy you fell in love all those years ago. When even he was wearing his Soldier Boy suit, he was still looking at you to same way, speaking softly to you, and acting differently than he had. He was trying his hardest to make it up to you and you couldn't describe how wonderful it made you feel.

But then your thoughts shift to Rosemary and Homelander.

Truthfully you’d be happier if Rosemary liked Ben or at least could have a conversation with him without ripping his head off and you’d be happier if you weren’t hiding from Vought and Homelander at Legend’s but-

You focus again on the warmth swirling in the pit of your stomach as Ben holds you close to him, the buzz of love and care that comes with every breath and each kiss. And you answer honestly.

“I would be happier if all this shit with Homelander was over, but I am. Very happy.” You squeeze his arm where it lays over your waist with a soft smile.

“Good. That’s all I want for you. That's all I've ever wanted for you." The look in Ben's eyes breaks you, transports you back to the moment he asked you to come with him all those years ago. When he was the only one who understood that you weren’t happy that the future you had with Howard wasn’t the one you wanted.

"It's all I've ever wanted for you too Ben. You deserve that. You deserve more than you think you do and I want to give it to you."

“You have."

The kiss that follows consumes you, makes you burn, destroys you, and then remakes you. You cannot remember a single moment of your life that has felt this way. He is everything you want and something you thought you'd never have, but yet here he is holding you, proclaiming that he loves you, refusing to go, and you never want him to.

"There hasn't been anyone else." You whisper against his lips.

Ben's body freezes when you say that. "What?" Shock dances in his eyes.

"There hasn't been anyone else. Only you." You smile stroking your hands through his hair. "At first I was busy with Rosemary taking care of her and then by the time I started thinking about it again, it never felt right." You bite your lip, cheeks blushing with your confession. "There was an almost once, someone I knew from the gallery, another artist, but it didn't feel right to use him like that when I didn't feel anything for him. I've never felt this way about anyone else. And even with everything that happened, I still felt like a piece belonged with you.  Maybe I should be embarrassed that I haven't since-"

Ben's mouth closes over yours so fast you don't have time to take another breath, one of his hands holding your face to his while the other wraps around your waist, hand splayed on your hip over your t-shirt your own hand covering his.

"All of you belongs with me." Ben moves his hands possessively over the curves of your hips. "Don't be embarrassed about that Sweetheart." He nips your bottom lip fusing his lips against your all over again, before raising his darkened eyes to lock with yours so intensely that it makes you forget how to breathe. "Because it means that I am your first and your only. That no man has ever touched you, ever made love to you, and that you are completely and utterly mine. As it should be." Ben's gaze meets yours and your cheeks flush as a shiver travels down your spine that he doesn't miss. "Just as all of me belongs to you."

He doesn't stutter, he doesn't look ashamed. He says it so simply, so irrevocably honest that it makes your chest tighten.

The weight of his words settle in the pit of your stomach. It was almost the same thing he had said to you the first time you slept together, and it was true, you were his, didn't want to be anyone else's. And for the first time you actually believed that he was yours and that was enough, he was always enough for you.

“Always.” You whisper back, searching his gaze again. And as soon as you say it you’re scared. A piece of you still waits for Ben to pull away from you, for him to suddenly go cold like he did the day that you told him the three little words that meant the world to you.

Why did I say that? It’s too soon. I should have waited. It’s-

And then Ben is kissing you again like he never wants to stop, breathing you in like a man gasping for air, holding you so tight against his chest that he thinks you’ll fade away to nothing in his arms, and smiling into your mouth as if kissing you is the most wonderful thing he can be doing.

Ben clears his throat lips brushing against yours again. "Sweetheart if you keep saying things like that, I don't think I'm gonna be able to stop. And I know that you want to wait."

Did I? Oh right I did. I did want that. Fuck.

"Yes." You murmur. "I do."

"Didn't sound too convincing there doll." Ben's smirk shifts into a smile, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he kisses you one last time. The heat of his skin was hypnotic, everywhere you were pressed against him felt like it would spontaneously combust. "But I don't want to make love to you if you don’t want me to-"

He stumbles slightly on the words ‘make love’ as if it’s difficult for him, grimacing slightly. But it made you smile. The fact that he was trying not to say 'fuck' meant the world to you. Because it meant that Ben really was trying to make up for the past, really trying to show you how much you meant to him.

"I want you to." You search his eyes, watching them darken with your words, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

You really did. Apart of you again was afraid that it was too soon, that you shouldn’t forgive him this easily for what happened, but deep down you knew that you had. You knew he had changed. You knew that what was happening between the two of you was different this time, that you were different and that he was different.

"I want you to make love to me. I want you to show me how much you love me and how sorry you are." You say, repeating what he said to you the night he came back into your life, continuing to stroke your fingers through the dark hair at the back of his head the way you know he likes earning a soft groan that rumbles up through his chest. "I want you to make me forget that night and forget the past forty years." You kiss him again, pulling back to look him in the eye again. "But I want you to make love to me in our home, in our bed. Not here in Legend's house where God knows what has occurred over the years. Not when we're on the run from Homelander. Not when we have to worry about everyone else hearing us.” Your cheeks flush at the prospect of Butcher or Rosemary hearing you and Ben, both of which had supe hearing.

Because that's exactly what she wants to hear right now.

“I want it to happen when things have calmed down a bit. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” Ben cups your cheek with a gentleness you never knew he possessed. “You said our.” He breathes with a soft smile, causing your own to mirror it.

“I did. Because it is. It’s our home.”

“Does that mean I get to use the hot water?” Ben smirks.

“If you pay the rent I’ll let you do whatever you want.” You snort, but then suddenly realize the weight of what you’d said.

Ben’s eyes glint with his mischievous smirk. “I like the sound of that doll.” But leans his forehead against yours. “As much as I want Butcher to hear you scream my name," He breathes against you lips. “I’m happy to wait for you. Because I don’t want to rush this, don’t want to rush our time together at least not the first time after all these years. I want to take my time with you.” Ben brushes his lips against yours, thumb rubbing over your jaw to hold your face steady. “I want to savor you.”

Ben smirks wider feeling the shiver that travels down your spine. “Sounds like you’d like that doll.”

"I would." Your lips curve into a smirk as you pull his face back to yours for another kiss.

You sit there together for another few minutes, his hand cupping your cheek, forehead pressed against yours, lips occasionally finding one another, as your heart thuds madly in your chest and you find yourself unable to stop the happiness and warmth that circulates through your body. It felt dangerously similar to how you felt the morning you woke up next to him in bed the morning after your birthday when you couldn't stop yourself from saying that you loved him, but now you welcomed the feeling.

"Can I show you the pictures now?" You breathe.

"Yeah." Ben smiles against your mouth as he kisses you one final time, before leaning back against the headboard and releasing his hold on your face so you can cuddle into him with the photo album perched on your lap once more.

Truthfully your collection of photos had grown exponentially from the small box beneath your bed to a collection of photo albums that lined the bookshelves in your living room at home. This one you had grabbed on the way out of your apartment, shoving it into your suitcase as you went. It held a good amount of pictures from when Rosemary was born to when she got married, and you knew it would be a perfect record of the life Ben had missed when he was in Russia.

"Before I open this," You say quietly, leaning back into him. "I want you to know that I'm only showing this to you because I want you to experience what it was like the past forty years. It is not to make you feel bad for not being there. I want to share this with you, but if you're going to get upset, then I don't want to-"

"Please show me." Ben tightens his arms around your waist again, sitting his chin on your right shoulder so he can see the book perched on your knees.

The picture on the first page is you standing in front of a two story house built out of grayed boards with a collection of white painted wooden steps leading up to a beautiful porch where two wicker chairs sit. A large garden dominates the lawn on either side if the cobblestone path that you stand on which leads to the house behind you. Wildflowers, roses, sunflowers, lavender, daisies, and herbs explode all over the front lawn, curling onto the cobblestone path. You're smiling in the photo, hair loose and pushed back by a wind that Ben can't see, wearing a loose pair of jeans and a large t-shirt, that does little to hide your swelling belly. Standing next to you is an elderly woman, with gray hair pulled back in a bun under a large gardening hat, wearing a faded green dress, but smiling just as widely as you with her arm over your shoulders.

"When I left New York, I went North and ended up in Maine. It seemed like a good place to disappear.  I had never been before and I found a woman, Melanie, who was renting out a room in her home. Her husband had died years ago, she never had any kids, and really no ties to the supe world.” You smile at the memory of the woman in the picture. Melanie had been more of a mother to you than yours ever had been, gently spoke to you, helped you through a dark part of your life when you found little to be happy about while pregnant with Rosemary. "It took her about ten seconds to realize that I was pregnant, but she never pried about my life or why I was there, what I was trying to run from. She was so different than the people we had been around all those years. She was kind, honest, and warm. She taught me how to bake, garden, and cook. She took care of me when I was struggling to find a reason to keep going. I owe so much to her. She was practically a grandmother to Rosie. Rosie loved her so much.”

"Is she-" Ben breathes softly.

"She died right before Rosie went to college and she left me the house."

"That one?"

"Mhmm. It's a bit different now, but mostly the way she left it. I had to remodel it a bit, it’s honestly almost as old as us.” You snort. “But we usually go for a few months every summer. It's about ten acres on the edge of a forest, with this beautiful forest path that leads out to a private beach. There’s no one for miles. The closest town is at least forty minutes away.”

"I want to see it some day."

"We'll go when all this calms down." You promise as you turn the page.

The next picture is of you standing on a chair holding a paintbrush, eyes focused on the wall in front of you. Your hair is pulled back in a red bandana, and you’re wearing a pair of paint splattered overalls, but you're definitely more pregnant in this picture. And you can't help but smile at the memory this picture brings. "I got this crazy idea to paint a mural on the nursery wall. Had to practically fight off Melanie so she'd let me stand on the chair."

"You shouldn't have been if you were that pregnant-" Ben frowns at you and you smile to yourself at his obvious urge to protect you even if he wasn’t there.

"Well how was I supposed to reach the top of the wall Ben? Not everyone is as tall as you.” You laugh. "It really was a nice mural of the forest outside. Melanie convinced me to do a smaller version on a canvas and have it displayed at the local art gallery. It was the first painting I ever sold. The first check I got that I actually felt like I earned."

You point at the picture next to it of you holding up a slip of paper and smiling wide at the camera. You had been so excited about it that you framed it, refused to cash it. It was still hanging on the wall at the house.

"But you earned money from Vought?" You could hear the confusion in his voice.

"It never felt like my money though. All I did was show up for pictures or appearances in malls or commercials and it never really felt real for me. But getting that check was really special, putting my name on something was real."

Ben presses a kiss to your shoulder. "I'm sorry you were so unhappy being a hero."

"I wasn't unhappy. I was just ready for something new. And I found it in Maine. But if this is making you sad I don't want to show you any more-"

Ben catches your wrist as you try to close the album. "I want to see."

The next picture is of you sitting out on the beach. You were wearing a one-piece red bathing suit, head tilted back in the sunlight, eyes closed drinking in the day. You were probably about seven months along and although you didn't like having too many pictures of you taken when you were pregnant, Melanie had insisted on this one and you liked it. Ben's body stiffens beneath you when he sees the picture, his hand moving from your waist to touch the page softly.

"You like that one?" You whisper.

"Yeah." He murmurs back eyes locked on the photo.

"Why? Because I'm practically naked?" You joke nudging your elbow back into his ribs.

"No. Well maybe a little." Ben's chuckle rumbles up through his chest against your back. "You look different. You're glowing."

"Shut up. Why is that a thing that men say to pregnant women? There is no glow. It's nine months of being so bloated and swollen you feel like a flotation device. Nine months of being so hormonal that you're not sure whether or not you want to laugh, cry, or just stay in bed for days. Nine months of wanting to puke your guts out. And don't get me started on the cravings, I'm pretty sure I would have eaten chocolate covered spiders one day if a traveling salesman showed up on the front porch toting a box!"

Okay. Maybe I'm ranting a little bit.

"It's true sweetheart. And I like the picture, because you look happy." His breath is warm against your ear.

"I was. Everything about being there felt right. I was always relaxed, I felt like I could breathe again, and I found myself there. I really needed that after everything." You lay your hand down where Ben's arm's rests on your waist. "Whenever I go back I always feel that way. I always paint better and feel more creative, just something about that house is almost magical." Your cheeks flush. "I know that sounds stupid."

"No." Ben breathes. "It's not. Why do you live in the city if you like it so much there?"

"Because Rosie lives in the city. Her job is there and they're the only family I have left. I don't want Lou to grow up without having me in her life. And I like being in the city. I like my studio, but sometimes it's nice to go to the house in Maine and forget for a little bit."

The picture on the next page is of you sitting in your  bed at the house, holding a baby wrapped in a knitted pink blanket in your arms, smiling down at Rosemary like she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. And she was. Melanie had delivered her, you were afraid to go to a hospital because you didn’t want the possibility of someone recognizing you and having an announcement in newspapers. Holding Rosie for the first time was bittersweet, because you were so happy and yet there was a sadness that settled over you. At first you couldn't place it, but now sitting here with Ben you understood what it was. You were sad that he wasn't there to hold her too, sad that he was missing this. Of course back then you thought that he was dead and that the only piece of him that you had left was in your arms.

"I like that one too." Ben mutters leaning further over your shoulder to get a better look.

"The first time I held her. She was so little and I was always afraid that I was going to hold her too tightly and hurt her." You smile. "Melanie delivered her. I didn’t want to go to a hospital and risk someone recognizing me. Honestly she was such a big help after, let me have a few moments of rest whenever everything got to be too much. And I was so tired for so long-"

"I'm sorry."

"Ben what did I say about you apologizing for things out of your control?" You press a kiss to his cheek where he is leaning over your shoulder, his beard tickling against your lips.

"I know. I just, I still wish that I could have been there."

“Honestly, you kind of were.”

Ben looks confused. “What?”

“Rosemary’s just like you Ben. When she was younger, she’d get this mischievous look in her eye and I knew that trouble was coming. It was the same one you always had right before you got us in trouble back in Philadelphia. I don’t even want to think about the teen years. And the college ones, forget it.” You groan. “Lou gets the same glint in her eye sometimes. I’m sure you’ll see it.”

“I think she’s like you.”

“What?” You turn to look at him.

“I mean sure she’s got my hair and my eyes, but she’s strong. She doesn’t bend easy. Stubborn-“ Ben smiles.

“You’re stubborn-“

“Not like you.”

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes at him.

“She’s got your smile.” Ben traces his thumb over your lips, cupping your chin gently. “And she’s just as beautiful as you.”

You flush with the compliment. “She's got your protective instincts. She doesn’t let anything slide.”

“I’ve noticed.”  He frowns and it makes your heart break for him.

“I promise one day she’ll warm up to you.”

“I know. I just wish it was today.” Ben sighs, brushing your hair back from your face. “Was it hard to raise her alone?”

“Sometimes.” You answer honestly. “But Melanie helped a lot.”

“I’m so-.” Ben begins.

“If you say I’m sorry one more time I swear I’m going to  kick you out of this bed!” You joke, but you both know the threat holds no power. Not when it feels this good to be in his arms.

 “You're here now." You whisper, softly running your hand over where his arms hold you tight against him. "And that's all that matters to me."

He turns his face to look at you, chin still on your shoulder, green eyes so soft they remind you of grass on a warm summer day. "I don't want to be anywhere else Sweetheart."

"Good." Your heart flutters in your chest, and Ben smiles when he hears it, his own thudding in his chest against his rib cage so hard you can feel it where it's pressed against your back.

And this time as you begin to fall, you know that he's going to catch you.

Rosemary POV

Rosemary tried to read through her book, tried to drown out the sound of her mother and her supposed father in the lower parts of the house with the smooth flow of words on the written page in front of her, but she couldn't. She found herself reading the same sentence over and over again while Lou slept in the bed beside her, her small body curled into a ball wearing her favorite pink polka dot pajamas beneath the gaudy bright red and gold comforter that only a man would choose for a bedroom.

Legend was exactly as she remembered him, eccentric like an old rich uncle that you'd never met but somehow remembers to send you a check each year for your birthday. But she could see how much Legend cared about you and that made him family, distant family, but still family. She knew what Legend had done for you after Ben left, how Legend had helped you through the weeks that followed Ben's death, helped you close all your bank accounts, and help you vanish without a trace. He kept your secrets from Vought and didn't question when you had showed up again toting someone you said was your cousin, but looked like Ben.

Rosemary sighs, hands tightening on her book as she listens to Ben and you talk quietly in the basement. She heard every word that Ben said to you, every promise that he made, every kiss that he laid on your lips.

The truth was, Rosemary didn't want to hate him and maybe she really didn’t, but she was still angry.

When she was a child her imaginary friend was Ben, or rather the version of Ben that you told her about, the one that was always there for you as a child, who climbed in your bedroom window, and the boy who was your best friend. Although she had you, Rosemary was lonely, not allowed to go to school with other children because of her abilities, not allowed to make friends until she was older, and not allowed to go into town. She didn't resent you for that, she understood that you did those things to protect her, just as she did those things to protect Lou, but to get through those lonely days she spoke to Ben or rather the version of him that lived in her head.

The one that was kind, who laughed at her jokes, sang with her to bad karaoke songs, who danced with her in her room to songs that you yourself called "noise" and looked at every one of the ridiculously bad paintings that she created and lied, telling her that they were masterpieces.

But that version didn't exist. And the real version she met a few hours ago was not what she expected. He looked, normal, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with his dark hair falling forward into his eyes. Soldier Boy looked just like anyone else you'd see on the street, handsome yes. Anyone could see that.

Whenever you would leave the house to go to the grocery store and Melanie was asleep, Rosemary would sneak into your bedroom, lounge on your bed and look through your box of photos. Seeing the ones of you as a child with your own mother, seeing the ones of her grandparents together, the photos of Ben and you together as heroes, and finally the yellowed collection of photos from a photobooth of Ben and you as teenagers smiling and laughing. She loved that collection of photos, loved how happy you looked with Ben, and loved how happy he seemed to be. It was one of the only pictures you had of the two of you as children that Rosemary could find, but that made it all the more special to her.

She wanted you to be happy. And before you had told her the story of what happened between you and Ben, Rosemary, as a child, had imagined Ben showing up after all those years, walking up the worn front steps of the house that always creaked, through the front screen door that always slammed no matter how softly you shut it, and into the house so the three of you could be a family.

All children want that. Want a family that feels whole.

And although Rosemary never met Ben before she had the oddest feeling as a child that there was something missing. She hoped that Lou didn’t feel that way about her family.

Rosemary sighs and allows her book to fall down on her chest, trying not to think about the photos or Ben or her mother. She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes all she saw was you standing in the hallway outside her apartment holding the hand of the man who ruined your life, who abandoned you and broke your heart.

How can she just forgive him like that? How can she just pretend that nothing happened? That he didn't break her? That he didn't say any of those things?

Rosemary couldn't understand and deep down underneath it all, she was afraid. Not of Ben, she didn't believe that he would physically hurt you, if he did or tried to she would rip him in half, but of what he could do to you.

She could see how different you were and he'd only been back in your life for a day. She saw how you looked at him, how you seemed to smile more, how you seemed to almost shine when he looked at you. She'd never seen you look so utterly and completely happy before. Sure you'd been happy, but it didn't mean that Rosemary didn't worry about you, because she did. She worried that you were lonely, that you weren't allowing anyone into your life because you were still broken, and she could see the cracks that you tried to hide from everyone else, the cracks that had been there as long as she'd known you, the same ones that Ben left behind when he threw you away like you meant nothing to him.

The problem Rosemary saw when she looked at you now, is that she could see those cracks slowly fading, and she was worried what would happen if Ben abandoned you again.

Maybe that's why she couldn't forgive him, because of how easy it was for him to treat you that way.

Rosemary stops to listen to you talk softly to him about the life you and Rosemary had and could hear the telltale flip of the pages of the photo album.

Even though she was angry with Ben, she couldn't believe how patient he was being with you. How softly he looked at you, how he never took his eyes off of you, not in a possessive way, but in a protective way, like he was willing to throw himself in between you and whatever or whoever tried to hurt you.

She also wasn't expecting to look so much like him. Sure Rosemary had seen pictures, watched every single one of Soldier Boy's films, music videos, and commercials to learn more about him. But in person was different.

Rosemary sighs, drumming her fingers against the cover of the book on her chest.

She just didn't want you to get hurt again, didn't want him to hurt you, didn't want to let Ben into her life either if he was just going to vanish all over again.

Rosemary's eyes drift to where Lou sleeps silently. She wasn't happy with how comfortable Lou was getting around Ben, because again, if Lou started to rely on him too and Ben just left it would break Lou.

She huffs out a breath, settling down into the unfamiliar bed. Her thoughts drift to Homelander. Rosemary wasn't afraid of him, one touch would make her just as unstoppable as him, but she was worried about you.

She was always worried about you. When you told her that you were going to Russia to get Ben, Rosemary felt her heart stop. She didn't want you to go alone, and she certainly didn't want you to expose yourself to the world, not after everything she had done to keep you hidden.

Rosemary's jaw tightens. There were things she hadn't told you, things that she did to protect you just as you had protected her and Lou, things that if you ever found out wouldn't understand. Sacrifices were necessary and a deal had to be made to ensure that you were safe.

And now that Ben was back and Homelander knew about you, Rosemary wasn't sure how long those secrets could stay hidden.

Soldier Boy POV

Ben trailed his hand softly up and down your back holding you closer to him where you were laying on his chest. Your head was directly over his heart, hair fanning out behind you, breathing evenly while you slept.

Ben smiled to himself. It was better than he remembered. Ben could feel any anger he still had about the past fading with each breath you took. While your soft sighs and the gentle beat of your heart lulled him into a calm that he hadn't felt in forty years. 

He couldn’t remember a time where he felt so happy, but he knew that it was probably the last time he held you like this. The morning that you told him you loved him and all he wanted was to say it back to you.

Ben tenses for a moment as the shame comes back over him in a never ending wave as he thinks about what he did to you, but now it’s lessened. You said that you’d forgiven him, and Ben believed you, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do everything he could to make you happy everyday the rest of your life.

The sunlight was peaking through the floor length curtains on the edges of the room, sending a gentle light over the bed.

But he didn't want to wake you up, not yet, not when you were holding on to him like you thought he would vanish, not when you looked years younger in the sweet relief of sleep, and not when Ben wanted to stay in bed just a little longer.

This was exactly what he wanted every day for the rest of his life, to exist here with you, feeling your soft curves against his broad chest, hearing your heart beat steadily in your chest, and feeling your hair tickle just under his chin. It was what he dreamed about when he was in the lab, getting back to you, being with you again, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers ever again.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he can stop himself continuing to rub your back just as gently as he had before.

You sigh softly, mouth twitching into a smile as you cuddle further into him, the arm you have thrown over his chest tightening just for a moment.

Someone knocks at your door and before Ben can do anything, Rosemary walks in.

“Mom I need to talk to you about-“ She stops, eyes focusing on Ben and your intimate position.

Could be worse. We could be naked.

Ben’s not sure what to do. He hadn’t expected her to hate him so much, hadn’t expected her to have the reaction she did as soon as she laid eyes on him for the first time.

At first he had been frustrated with himself for not being there angry because he had been away from you when you needed him the most. And when he realized how much Rosemary hated him, he’d turned that frustration on you. Yelled at you because you’d told Rosemary what had happened between the two of you.

He hadn’t meant to do that again, to lose his temper like that. Not to mention he figured that Rosemary could hear everything that he’d shouted at you.

He understood that he needed to calm down and give her time, but he wanted her to like him and he knew that he wasn’t the most patient person. He was trying to be better for you.

He’d never liked his old man and look how he’d ended up? He didn’t want to have that kind of relationship with his kid, and especially didn't want to have that kind of relationship with Rosemary because he saw how close you were with her. And he worried that if he couldn't get Rosemary to like him that you'd pull away from him, push him out of your family and then he'd be alone all over again.

She said that it was your family too.

Ben thought to himself remembering last night, when you showed him what the past forty years had been like while curled up against him. He remembered every photo, every story you told him, while you smiled, kissed him and made him feel like he was there with you all those years. He wished he was, but it was the next best thing, because you weren't looking at him like you were afraid he was going to leave, you were looking at him the same way he remembered the morning after you made love and it made him feel hopeful.

But right now watching Rosemary frown at him and you, that hope was sizzling up like an egg on a hot day.

"Um. Good morning." Ben half-smiles, but Rosemary doesn't return it.

You begin to stir on his chest, squeezing him just a little harder as you do as if to reassure yourself that he's there, before you blink open your eyes to stare at him.

Ben's gaze flicks down to yours.

"Morning." You sigh happily, pressing a kiss to his chest right over his heart and nuzzling your face into his soft t-shirt. For a moment Ben forgets that Rosemary is standing there and can't help but smile back at you.

"Morning Sweetheart." He whispers, brushing back some of your hair from your face.

Rosemary clears her throat loudly, before crossing her arms over her chest.

Ben watches you realize that she's there. You sit up and turn towards the doorway that leads into the basement bedroom.

"Rosie hi." Ben can hear the anxiety in your voice and he hates it. He wanted to let you asleep just a little longer so you didn't have to deal with this so soon.

"I have to talk to you."

"Oh okay." You sit up and adjust so that you're sitting beside Ben rather than on top of him. "What is it?"

Rosemary's eyes flick to where Ben is sitting next to you. "Alone."

Ben feels his chest tighten when she says that and tries to fight the sigh that builds behind it.

Can't she see that I'm trying to make up for everything? That I am trying to be better than I was?

He can feel the anger and frustration coming back, washing away the calm he felt when he woke up with you on his chest, causing his feelings of happiness to evaporate once more.

You glance over at Ben for a second, with an apology in your gaze, before you look back at Rosemary. "Okay. Give me a minute. I'll meet you on the porch."

"Sure." Rosemary waits a second as if there's something else she wants to say, but she thinks better of it and leaves, her footsteps soft against the stairs.

"Ben I'm sorry-" You begin to say, but he sighs.

"It's alright Sweetheart."

But deep down it doesn't feel alright, and Ben can't help but feel a little disappointed by all of this.

"Baby." You whisper, touching his cheek softly to turn his face to yours.

He's never prepared for the way it feels when you touch him, even just the slightest brush of your fingers against his skin sends him into overdrive. It's never been this way with anyone, just you, and he never wants to get used to the way your touch makes him burn.

"I know when you're lying." You press your forehead against his, and Ben can't help but wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer against him.

"I know."

"I promise that this is going to get better. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll see you in a little bit?" You nudge your nose against his, smiling against his mouth.

"Yeah. I think I'll take a shower."

"Good, because you're still smell like drywall and smoke."

"Shut up." Ben rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smile.

"But-" You press your lips against his, making his entire body feel like it's on fire, your lips soft and supple against his, making a pleasant buzz vibrate in his chest. "You also smell a little bit like me."

"You like that doll?" He murmurs.

"I fucking love it." You kiss him one more time, tangling your hands in his hair, fingers brushing against his hair just like you know he likes and he can't help but groan softly.

Sometimes he didn't believe that you were real, that you cared enough to pay attention to what he liked, that you remembered everything about him, and that you saw all the pieces of him that he tried to hide beneath the bravado he forced himself to adopt long ago so that he was the version of the man his father wanted him to be. But now he wanted to be the man that you wanted him to be and he would be.

And somewhere deep down he knew, that you just wanted him to be him, and that would be enough.

A/N: It's a whole lot of fluff until the ending and I'm so sorry for how sad it got. But hopefully in the coming chapters Rosemary really will try to get to know him and will try to forgive Ben.

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

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[ambrozjas]

Could u do Johnny cuddling hcs? Or all of the gang separately

Anyways I love your writing sm 😭🫶🏼

the gang with cuddling ꨄ︎

the outsiders x reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

sorry this took so long to come out !! i’ve been absolutely swamped with homework, thank you for this request 🫶 i hope you all enjoy !!

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

let me know if there’s any warnings i need to add !!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

you shifted away from DARRY a little bit to gather some of the coldness from the untouched part of the bed.

you hummed in delight as the foreign coldness of the sheets enveloped your body and you were met with a refreshing scent of lavender detergent, probably due to the fact that darry washed his sheets a few hours ago.

your eyes fell shut once again, falling into the euphoric feeling of sleep, before you heard shuffling behind you and felt a strong arm sling itself over your midriff.

you turn your head at an angle to see darry behind you, eyes still closed as he pulls you flush against him.

“y’awake, dare?” you whisper, turning your head as far as it could go so you could look at him.

all he does is nuzzle his face into the back of your hair, and gives you a small noise, signaling that he’s dozing off again.

you shake your head and softly chuckle, turning your head back to a comfortable position as you lay there in darry’s arms, content with just his presence. you know that one of you would get hot and would pull away in the night, but knowing that you’re still next to each is enough comfort on its own, so you didn’t mind all that much. no matter how hot darry was, he’d still have your pinkies locked or a hand against your back, just so he knows you’re there.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you woke up abruptly with a hand landing on your face, looking over to see SODAPOP, mouth partially open as soft snores left his pink lips. he looked so peaceful, unaware of how he just assaulted your face in his slumber.

soda always slept wild. he moved a whole lot, and not always in a good way. ponyboy told you how once, he found sodapop upside down with his foot in pony’s face.

when you turned your head to look at soda some more, you couldn’t help but admire how serene he looked in his sleep. his hair a disheveled mess when it wasn’t greased, flattened against his white pillow, his jawline soft as his chin tucked itself in. you narrowed your eyes at him as you recall how he woke you up once his leg twitches.

you wonder what he’s dreaming about as you flinch away once he jolts in his sleep. his lashes flutter open at the absence of you next to him as his hand comes up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “what’s wrong, darlin’?” his voice is altered from the thick layer of sleep coating it, giving it a gravely tone rather than his usual voice.

you knew that if you told him of how he woke you up, he’d probably feel a tad bit guilty. so instead of saying anything, you just shake your head and lean back down, resting your head on soda’s chest, your head rising with every breath he took.

“i love you.”

“love ya, too.” he says, closing his eyes once again as he shuffled to get comfortable, his arm wrapping around you as he pulls you closer.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“from her french mother, whose parents had felt haiti in the revolution of 1791, had come her slanting eyes, shadowed by inky lashes..” you listened as PONYBOY read his copy of ‘gone with the wind’ to you. resting your head on pony’s shoulders, you tucked yourself into his side. you felt the vibrations of pony’s voice in your position, the feeling almost soothed you as he read.

“y’still awake?” he confirmed, taking a moment to stop reading and look down at you. you met his eyes, finding yourself in a sea of grey hazel, before looking back at the book and giving him a small, ‘mhm’.

“you liar.” he shakes his head, careful to place a bookmark in his book before setting it down on the desk beside his bed.

“i was awake, pony!—“

“you was almost drooling on my shoulder.” he said, shuffling down under the covers to get comfortable. once pony actually lays down, you immediately wriggle your way into the taut comforter next to pony, burrowing into his side.

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, pony awkwardly stiff as he feels you nuzzle into him. he opened his mouth to speak, it gaping open and closed like a fish as he considered whether or not to interrupt the quiet.

“why do you like me reading to you? couldn’t you read yourself?” he muttered with caution, trying hard so as to not make you think he didn’t like reading to you because trust me, pony really did like reading to you.

“like your voice.” you croaked, voice muffled in the pillows. you stayed there for a moment, feeling pony’s body heat up with just one comment.

you held back a giggle as you threw an arm around his waist and nuzzled into him until there was no space left, no gap to differentiate the two bodies, instead just one heap of love on pony’s bed.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you watched JOHNNY look both ways before stealthily running out of his house, coming through the window as to not interrupt the commotion in the living room. you frowned as you saw the two figures yelling and thrashing about in the window, hearing a multitude of slams and glass breaking inside.

you beckoned johnny over as you perched yourself behind a tree, just in case anybody came out. you caught glimpses of his face when he ran, the moonlight dripping through the worn branches of the trees surrounding the pathway to his house. in those few gaps where you saw his face, although altered with the color of blue from the moon, you didn’t miss the faint tear streaks on his face and the reddening of his eyes and lips.

a curt, “lot?” was all that left your lips before johnny nodded vigorously. you thought, anything was better than, you looked back to the house and even through the curtains you could still see the two figures fighting and shouting so angrily it was almost unintelligible, that.

you held out your hand to johnny, offering at least some form of comfort on the way to the empty lot. he took it, his hand felt cold and calloused. you frowned as you felt some scarring from trying to protect his head when he got jumped by the socs that one time. nonetheless, you both bolted away into the darkness and headed to the lot in a desperate attempt to get away from this place.

“i hate it.” johnny had finally blurted out once you two had reached the lot and caught your breaths. you cradled his head as your heart broke when you felt his shoulders heave, probably trying to put a tough front as he muffled his sobs.

that whole night was spent with endless whispers of promises and assurance. countless mumbles of promising that you two would get enough money to move away from tulsa, to a place where there wasn’t any of this. where you two could be free.

johnny had cried himself out and fallen asleep with his head on your lap. you twirled and played with his hair, rubbing your fingers together at the texture of grease. you were comforted by the sounds of nature around you, owls hooting and crickets chirping filled the silence as your eyes stayed on johnny.

even though you knew your neck would be killing you, you leaned your head on an empty crate and didn’t move a single inch so johnny wouldn’t wake up.

it’s okay, you thought to yourself, one day i’ll take you out of this place.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“stop—!” you whined, swatting DALLAS’ hand away as he kept poking at your cheeks. your eyes were still shut closed as you were trying to doze off, before dally had so rudely interrupted you.

you had gotten used to the stench of cigarettes, it was practically everywhere. in dallas’ room at bucks house, on dal’s clothes, his hair no matter how well he washed it. of course, there were some other undertones to it too. the deodorant dal always wore was musky as it seeped into your nostrils whenever you got close to his chest. it was just like him, strong and overwhelming.

you pouted, hiding your face into his chest so he couldn’t bother your face anymore. but he always had a way around it, so instead of poking your face he settled on flicking your ears with his index finger.

he scoffed in amusement when he realized you had really ignored him and fallen asleep.

dallas looked around the room and sighed, his nostrils blowing out smoke once his chest dropped with the breath.

it was a few thick moments of quiet, the only noise coming from the chirping of the ceiling fan that you would always complain about hoping it would never fall on you due to how worn down it was, before the door swung open only to reveal no other than buck merrill.

he opened his mouth to speak, wide and ready to talk, before he laid eyes on the sight before him.

you, asleep with your head on dally’s chest. and dallas? arm hanging off the side of the bed and his body not moving an inch so as to not disturb you, cigarette dangling out of his mouth as per usual.

“shit.” buck mumbles, watching dally wave his hand, careful not to add motion to the rest of his arm, to tell buck to go scratch. buck simply raised a hand in a surrender type motion and exited in the room. dally tsked as he heard buck walk backwards into something, it creating a loud enough sound to where he looked at you, watching you stir. he tapped out his cigarette and threw it on the desk next to him, bringing a hand to the small of your back as he lolled his head to the side, taking deep breaths in an effort to fall asleep, too.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“geronimo!” yelled TWO-BIT as he jumped onto you, limbs spread out so he could successfully cage you in although careful to put his knees below him so he didn’t bodyslam you entirely.

“no—!” you only had a quick moment to react, tucking your legs in as you braced for impact. you had to admit though, seeing two-bit take the form of a sugar glider above you was hilarious.

his body diving onto yours wasn’t so hilarious, though.

your breath was knocked out of your lungs as you scrambled to escape under your boyfriends body, elbowing him as he doubled over with laughter.

you huffed as you realized he wasn’t budging any soon, dropping your shoulders with nothing else to do. two looked up at you, the corners of his cold blue eyes crinkling as he gave you a cheeky grin. his arms snaked themselves around your waist and squeezed, mumbling nonsense before he pressed his face into your stomach. his voice was muffled in the fabric of your shirt as he muttered quick things, you could’ve sworn you heard a, “beautiful” in there.

“‘s that all you broke my ribs for, mathews? a quick cuddle?” you teased him, your voice quick with your restriction of air support.

there’s a quick pause before two-bit mumbles a quick ‘no’ and turns his face over to the side so you can hear his words.

you twirled the curl that he always greases with your fingers, absentmindedly playing with his hair as he hummed, giving you a small groan when you scratched at his scalp.

two-bit was annoying sometimes, but domestic moments like this always made you forget about it.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“imagine how the boys would react to seein’ you now, STEVE.” that teasing was also meant seriously, because you did wonder. how would the gang react to finding steve on your lap as his head stayed glued to the crook of your neck? it was almost comical.

“ah, shut up.” he grumbled, yet he took no action to move away from you, his words contained lack of any threats.

you hummed in response, patting his back as you listened to his breathing. he started to doze off again, his head getting heavier by the minute as his body relaxed.

you suddenly jolted up, hoping to scare steve out of his slumber, but he was dead asleep. the only noise that was heard were his soft snores leaving his parted mouth.

you pouted. you wish you would’ve moved before having him sit there, only because you couldn’t see his face though.

you rolled your eyes as you heard steve’s snores getting louder as he entered into a deeper sleep, his weight almost unbearable. so instead of just sitting through that torture, you gently leaned back and laid steve down beside you.

just as you were about to shuffle away to give him his space, you heard an arm slap and shift at the couch’s cushion. you turned around, your eyes trailing up the arm, on the tattoo his shoulder adorned, and finally at his face. his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes closed, eyelashes perfectly on display as he attempted to find you.

so you stayed there, having steve cling onto you while he slept. because really, who could deny steve when he was as serene as he was?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ some of them were kinda sleeping related? but it still kinda counts guys trust 🙏

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[idlerin]

EACH WORD FELL INTO PLACE

celebrity!akaashi keiji x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 8.6k

content — best friend's brother/sister's best friend trope, established relationship (in the other fics especially, this one eventually), can be read as a stand-alone ig, very fluffy hihi enjoy! (i certainly enjoyed writing it)

to love and be loved by akaashi keiji, a treasure not many get to behold.

AKAASHI KEIJI never thought he would be the type to experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing. A love that makes you lose all sensibility and makes you ponder on how to function like a proper human being. Such acts included breathing normally, blinking in the usual manner, and even thinking when the person beholding the affection is near. The kind of love that existed and repeated in countless romance novels, movies, and shows. Fictional. Unreal. Untrue. It’s not like he was much of a pessimist to think that he would never find love, more like, it was unbelievable for that kind of love to exist in reality as it frankly didn’t make any sense. How could someone lose all rationality because of one single person?

Keiji could vaguely remember his father talking about the day he met his mother, how, when he first saw her it felt as if he was shot in the heart. Not by an arrow, but by a bullet. How he was hit with a myriad of emotions, love and adoration above all. A burning sensation settled in and what left was the thought of needing to get to know their mother more, absolutely sure she was the one for him.

Keiji simply didn’t get it though, at the ripe age of ten, he didn't understand how a person could fall in love with someone they didn’t know well (which is why he thinks the notion of falling in love at first sight is impossible, you can feel attraction at first sight but surely not love). He soon discovered that love could sprout differently for people. His aunt and uncle for one fell in love after years of being friends, it didn’t hit them immediately that their bond would turn into something more and yet it did. His uncle described it as one day seeing the sun shine high up in the sky and realizing how bright it makes the world.

The blinding kind of love was simply one of the many ways people express their affection for one another. In the end, he concluded that the heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing kind of love wasn’t something he would ever be subjected to. 

He grew curious about the subjectivity in an objective reality, this curiosity turned into an interest in writing. Which then turned into an interest in poetry and eventually, lyricism. He had found a love for literature that young kids usually don’t, this then had been a turning point in his life that wasn't abrupt but impactful, who knew rummaging in the attic looking for his nana’s old books would lead him to discover an abandoned guitar?

Just like his view on love and everything else, music was something that slowly but surely made its way into his heart. A passion begins to thread and twine to the fate directing his life.

And then he was hit by a bullet.

Unlike his father, it didn’t come abruptly and immensely after he laid eyes on you. It was slower, gradual, and not anything he expected at all. He’s known you for years, being his little sister’s closest friend. You were a constant presence in his home and you were even there to listen to his band when they were merely four kids having fun and following a dream. You were always the sweet type, and it blended well with his sister’s fierce attitude. Along the way he started thinking of you as a friend too, he could confide in you and you both shared easy conversations, how could you not be friends? You practically spent every single day in his house, you were more familiar than some of his cousins.

“I just want to graduate, why is this so hard?” you whine, a pout befalling your face, “Keiji, I swear you explained it really well, maybe something’s wrong with my brain!” your eyes were wide, looking at him as if you were truly worried something was wrong with you. It was one of the many days you spent in his home, and he offered to help when he noticed you kept glaring at a piece of paper on the counter. He asked where his sister was and you said that she was taking a nap, but you couldn’t give yourself the same pleasure without finishing your worksheet.

“Maybe you need to take a break for a moment,” he suggests, smiling idly at your expression. The pout didn’t rest and he reached out to pat you gently on the head, something he got used to doing. It’s not like he saw you as a child—he was only a year and a half older—but he could never help patting your head whenever you acted in such a cute manner.

“What will that do?” your shoulders loosen and you look up at him prettily under your lashes. That’s when Keiji becomes speechless for a moment, your gaze pierces through him and he doesn't hear what you said at first. He hadn’t noticed that he’d been staring for too long, you had to get him back to his senses by uttering, “Keiji?”

“Yes? I–uhm right uh, rest will give you the energy you need to process new information easily,” Keiji suddenly felt the need to stand up, so he did. You were pretty, yes, that’s not anything new. You’ve always been pretty in his eyes so why is it that he’s now acting so weirdly about it? He’s long since acknowledged that you’re pleasing to look at. Yes. So what? Right. He didn’t get to ponder much on that afternoon because he was soon bombarded with work when his band got scouted by an agent, he had rehearsals to worry about and people to impress. Plus, you’d always be there, so he doesn’t need to rush and put a name on anything. 

Budding feelings they may be. Keiji didn't know exactly what it was, but he wasn't dumb to not have a hint to what's happening to him. He just didn't let himself be too caught up in it.

Your presence in the Akaashis' lives was so prominent that you were even invited to family gatherings. His aunts, uncles, and cousins became as familiar with you as a regular family member would. He was so used to your presence on trips as well, his mother treated you as her own and his sister was more than happy to have her best friend on their outings.

“Is [name] not joining?” he found himself asking when he was carrying his bags to the car, his family and him were on their way to a beach trip and naturally, he looked for you. He just got back after weeks of juggling his second year of college and his band. His family greeted him with a resort getaway to “ease him up a bit” according to his sister who also just got home from her first year in university.

His father started laughing and Keiji was confused as to what was so hilarious, his father didn’t leave him wondering for too long, “Glad to know you were also used to her being here!” and laughed more as if this was the funniest discovery in the world.

“Dear, what’s so funny? Is it not obvious Keiji thinks of [name] as a sister as well? Of course he’d look for her,” his mom shook her head at his dad, “Now stop laughing and get the other bags, I’m too tired to walk back in.”

A sister? His mom thinks he thought of you as a sister? That was… he has never entertained the idea. You were always just you. No matter how much he thought about it, he could just never see you as a sister.

“Why is [name] not coming?” he could not take not knowing the reason and asked Kaiya who was looking like she was trying to bury herself in her hoodie.

“Because she's busy,” Kaiya shrugged, bringing out her phone and leaning on the car.

Busy? It was summer, you’re supposed to have fun during summer. Even he (someone who is dedicated to upholding responsibilities even during summer break) is taking time for leisure because it’s summer. What could you possibly be busy with that would make you unable to come and enjoy a getaway? Why wasn’t his sister reacting more to this? Usually, Kaiya would be the one most sulky about not being able to bring you along with us despite her grown age. Was Keiji the only one finding your no-show bothering?

“You’re not whining about not seeing her? You’re all grown up,” Keiji smiles, trying to get a reaction out of his sister.

“Of course I’m all grown up! Don’t act like you’re that much older than me,” Kaiya glares, “And I see [name] almost every day, I’ll see her after the trip,” she stuck her tongue out as if taunting. She smirked right after and Keiji had his suspicions that Kaiya must be trying to get something out of him as well. They think too alike, he adores his sister but he'd rather she not pry much right now when he's distraught and trying to compose himself because it shouldn't be too obvious that he's feeling distraught.

Kaiya could see you whenever she wanted, you went to the same university and lived on campus together. Somehow that gave him a bad feeling in his stomach, the reason is not that his sister specifically spends more time with you—that's a given because of your years of friendship—but because he couldn't spend much time with you. There was a clear difference.

He was feeling strange again, it was still a strange and unfamiliar feeling despite him not exactly being single his whole life. After months of being away for college and work, going home included seeing you and now that he doesn’t get to do exactly that is making him feel drowsy. He thought that he could sidetrack himself from further developing these feelings of his but it didn't work (he entertained a few people the past year because he was trying to get you off his mind—which was no use, you were always there and will always be there). Sometimes he'd think of you and he'd have the urge to message you (he gives in to his desire to talk to you most of the time), or sometimes he would look at old photos of you two—which was not much.

There was a time in the middle of band practice where he kept staring off into space because he remembered a time where you asked him to teach you how to play a few chords on a guitar and he remembered the way you laughed and how your skin felt when he was arranging your fingers on the strings properly. They had to start over and over on practicing a song because Keiji kept misremembering lines when the thought of you was making him flustered. Even Atsumu had started asking him if he would be alright performing for the gig they booked the following night. That was only one of the many instances you clouded his thoughts.

This feeling was driving him insane.

He took a deep breath to control himself because the thought of missing you was eating him away. He wanted to see you. You’ve exchanged texts and some calls over the past months but it wasn’t enough, you were one of the reasons he was looking forward to coming back home and he foolishly thought he would get to see you eventually because you’d always be there.

He’d like to take it back, it wasn’t like getting hit by a bullet per se, Keiji would equate it more to poison. The kind that slowly seeped in and made it so that it was difficult to breathe. To function. Keiji sighed and resigned himself to the irony that he was slowly ticking the boxes of the criteria that made him believe he was otherwise susceptible to the kind of blinding affection one could have towards someone.

Keiji didn’t know when exactly he entered the car, the whole journey sure felt enlightening with the way he could finally put a name to his actions towards you. He really couldn’t take it anymore and messaged you, asking why you couldn’t join the trip. It was better to hear it from you, and it also eased him a bit. Perhaps in a while, he could bring up meeting with you over the next weeks, that wouldn’t be too strange.

Fate was on his side and he got his wish of seeing you more frequently during summer break. You agreed to hang out with him and you spent it by usually going to the theaters, a museum, or simply eating out. He didn’t mind what you guys would do, he enjoyed even just passing by stores with you. Whenever Kaiya and you would hang out, you would drop by which would lead to conversations in the living room while waiting for his sister to get ready (Keiji knew his sister was also using him for a free ride but it’s not like he would complain since it means more time with you). The last week of the break was his sister’s birthday and he had enjoyed picking out gifts for her with your guidance, it did make him feel a bit empty knowing he’d have to spend months without being with you again.

Despite all his worries, he remained focused on the present. Him, Kaiya, you, and a few other of his cousins were splayed in a circle in the living room of the villa where Kaiya’s birthday was celebrated, playing a game of truth or dare. Keiji watched as Kaiya spun the bottle and as its momentum slowed, the tip of the bottle pointed at his cousin Hiroki.

A mischievous grin spread on Kaiya’s lips, she glanced once at you then back at Hiroki, “So, who would you say is your type? Answer honestly! It’s my birthday,” she slurred her words, the alcohol kicking in. If she couldn’t have been more obvious, she started clinging to you.

Hiroki looked like a deer in headlights, glancing at his sister Aiki beside him and narrowed his eyes at her, “You told her?”

“I did no such thing, you’re just too obvious,” Aiki stirred her glass of wine and winked at you whose smile was a bit strained, Keiji could tell you were starting to feel awkward. Are they trying to set you and Hiroki up? Keiji could easily put two and two together with how his cousins and sister were acting right now. He was a bit frustrated that he could only be a bystander along with his other cousins and a few of Kaiya’s other close friends, he was trying to suppress the urge to interfere.

“Answer now!” Kaiya pressed, shaking your arm while pointing a finger at Hiroki.

Keiji could only look at you. How would you react? Would you like that Hiroki feels that way about you? Keiji found himself clutching his drink. Would your cheeks warm? Would you feel light and fluttery? Would you feel the same way about Hiroki? Keiji was only giving himself pain with his train of thought.

Hiroki then quickly drank a shot of alcohol for liquid courage, “Fine, my ideal type is [name],” Hiroki then looked everywhere but you after exclaiming that to everyone in the room. The people around cheered and most started teasing you too.

Keiji locked eyes with you, he tilted his head as if asking a question, and of course, the only question coming to mind now was ‘What do you feel about Hiroki?’. It was how you felt that mattered the most rather than his disdain for the situation. Hiroki was nice enough, but surely you didn’t know each other that well for you to harbor any feelings for his cousin. What if you did? You knew of his cousin’s existence and saw him a lot (not enough). What if Keiji never realized you already had long-term feelings for someone else because he never liked to entertain the idea of you liking someone who wasn't him? 

Keiji wanted to bang his head on the wall right now. He was thinking irrationally, but being selfish was natural because he liked you, right? It was okay that he was feeling like he wanted to grab your hand and run away to a place where it could just be you and him. He never tried asking you if you currently liked anyone so he could continue to live in the fantasy of the possibility that you liked him back.

You only blinked at him before you were distracted by his sister hovering over you and saying nonsense Keiji didn’t bother to listen to. It was getting very obvious that you wanted to escape the conversation, Keiji noticed how you fiddled with your shirt and the way your eyes kept wandering to the door. Keiji took it upon himself to pull his sister away from you, “Stop it, you’re making [name] and Hiroki uncomfortable.”

His sister looked up at him with an accusing gaze, “You!”

“Yes?” he successfully pried her away from you which earned him a small smile, the simple action from you felt as if a weight was removed from his shoulders.

“Stop taking my best friend away from me!” Kaiya states as Keiji lets her go, stomping back to her place beside you.

“What do you mean?” Keiji was honestly confused about what Kaiya meant, he would not be sorry if ever that would be the actual case though.

“Don’t you think I don’t know about you two hanging out without me!” Kaiya exclaimed, ah so that’s what she meant and here Keiji thought she had a hint about his feelings towards you, or perhaps she does? But Kaiya was too drunk right now to think coherently. 

“Everyone knows Keiji actually has two sisters,” Aiki laughs, giving Keiji that distraught feeling once again. Does everyone in his family think Keiji treats you like a sister? Or do they think he could never feel that way about you? Why? What can he do to make them stop thinking like that? What if you thought you were like a sister to him? Keiji could feel nothing but panic.

Later that night Keiji found you alone out in the gardens of the villa, it looks like he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time sleeping.

“Can’t sleep?” he calls out, startling you. You turn to him with your shawl wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you visibly relax when you see that it was just him.

A smile spread on your face, “Yeah, you too?”

Keiji nodded and watched as you sat on the bench, he walked towards you and leaned on the tree beside it. He wouldn’t be able to think of the right words to say if he was sitting right next to you, he was still hung up on what happened earlier this evening.

“So… I have to get back to campus the day after tomorrow,” you broke the silence, sighing after you laid out your news.

“Ah,” was the only thing Akaashi could say to the reminder that your time together was limited, “I’m leaving the same day, the weeks sure went by fast.”

That’s not what he really wanted to say though, he wanted to question you about what you felt when Hiroki practically said he liked you. Keiji wanted to know if you would be alright with seeing him again in the near future, you didn’t have to waste money on commuting, he could drive to you. Perhaps you could even attend some of his gigs, it would be exhilarating to see you watch him again. He wanted to say a lot of things to you but the only thing he could say was, “I don’t think of you like a sister.”

“Huh?” you looked up at him under your lashes, the moonlight set its rays upon you and it was similar to that moment in his kitchen a year ago. The moment that made him realize he was feeling for you deeper than he should.

“I wanted to clarify that I don’t think of you as a sister, everyone seems to get the wrong idea,” Keiji took a deep breath, he was so near to telling the truth that he was finding it difficult to breathe again. He was staring right into you and if the truth didn’t spill from his lips, he wondered if you could see it in his eyes, “They were right about one thing though.”

As if hypnotized, you stayed in place as Akaashi couldn’t restrain himself anymore and reached for your hand, catching it firmly in his grasp, “You mean a lot to me.”

“I… you mean a lot to me too, Keiji,” those words that came from your sweet voice was similar to harmony in his ears, it brought out an overwhelming feeling in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to be close to you. He can’t do that yet though, it’s not the right time.

Akaashi Keiji never thought he would experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing, but he was wrong. Every moment spent with you proved it wrong, what else could explain the loss of sense and rationality whenever you were near? But he was still him after all. So he would approach this in the only way he knows, slowly but surely. You were worth it after all.

That’s why it didn’t matter how long it took for him to profess his love for you, he needs to make sure that he’s shown you that his love deserves to be reciprocated. That he deserves someone as precious as you.

It was never easy, he never expected that it would just be easy. Yet the day came when he held your hand tightly in his once again, his nerves barely being suppressed as he told you the reason for his years of pining. How he liked you, he liked you so much he could barely remember how he was before harboring feelings for you. It was blissful, it couldn’t be anything else but. He could finally be with you, after all, he had the right to be with you and it made him extremely happy. He would always be caught grinning to himself, it was to the point that Suna started asking him if he was alright because of his weird behavior. Akaashi wanted nothing more than to show you off to the world. 

Although, a certain request from you made it difficult to do just that. You had asked him if you both could keep your relationship a secret because of his growing fame and you didn’t want to be caught up in that world of his. He respected your decision and was willing to follow whatever you said. Your relationship lasted for many hours, days, and months. Even if he couldn’t spend a lot of time with you in the later years because of his job and there were rough times that occurred, his love for you outweighed. His resolve remained, that it didn’t matter how much time has or will pass, his love for you would never waver.

His heart felt as if it was pumping a hundred and twenty beats per minute, a single text from you got this reaction out of him. Even with years of being together, he could still never function normally around you. He had just gotten a text in the middle of his post-concert celebratory party with his bandmates and some of the other staff. It was a simple text—two words, six letters.

My Love 2:44 AM I’m here :) [insert picture of hotel lobby]

The familiar lobby of the hotel they were staying in for the week was clear in the picture. Akaashi was speechless, how could you be here? Was he dreaming? It was a thousand miles away from home but you’re here? For him? You were here for him?

He couldn’t leave his seat fast enough.

“Where are you going?” Sakusa asks. Akaashi didn’t think anyone would take notice if he suddenly left, but this was Sakusa here, he was simple enough to brush off, Atsumu would be more meddlesome.

“Hotel,” Akaashi started moving before he could be asked to elaborate, he couldn’t wait to see you already. He hurriedly put his cap on and passed by Sakusa once again.

“Hey, you’re still holding your dri–” Akaashi didn’t stay to hear the rest, he was feeling restless at the thought of you patiently waiting for him. He was out of the doors of the private room within minutes.

“Akaashi-san!” a hand was on his shoulder. Why does the world despise him at this very moment? He looked around and spotted Suna’s assistant. He should be glad that at least it wasn’t a fan, he loved his fans dearly but they would be more difficult to bypass. Turns out she was looking for Suna himself and couldn’t find the room. Akaashi quickly led her to the right place before rushing out again, he then realized he was still holding onto a drink and quickly left that on a counter. He should be walking faster so nothing else would stand in the way of him wrapping his arms around you and feeling your warmth after so many months of longing.

He was practically running towards his car, luckily he was still sane enough to drive properly. You would scold him for being reckless while driving, it was good that the hotel was only a few minutes away. Though it was a very agonizing ten minutes, the world was testing out his patience.

Finally, finally, he was in front of the doors which were the only thing separating him from you.

Once he gets inside, he sets his gaze on you immediately. Your shining eyes met his and you stood up from your seat, he hadn’t had a care in the world as he practically ran towards you and pulled you into an embrace. He should be thinking if his actions would earn him a trending article but he couldn’t find himself to care. The world will find out sooner or later how much you mean to him. He buried his face in your hair and hugged you impossibly tighter.

“Love, It’s a bit hard to breathe,” you pat him on his back, he can feel your grin on his shoulder.

“That’s exactly how I felt when you sent me that text message,” Keiji replies, hand clutching the back of your head, soaking in the reality that you’re actually here with him.

You fake a gasp, “So I deserve this?”

Akaashi gave a hum as a ‘yes’, “You deserve to be smothered with much more affection too,” he kissed the side of your head.

“Save that for later, please,” you say, warily looking at your surroundings, only the receptionist turning a blind eye was present.

He wastes no time and hesitantly lets you go in order to gather your suitcase, he intertwines your hand with his free hand. He leads you to the elevator and impatiently pushes the button to his floor. You, on the other hand, were leaning on his biceps as your eyes kept fluttering shut due to drowsiness from your flight. You left for your flight immediately after getting off work and you were tired from the hecticness.

Once you both arrived at Akaashi’s room, he spent no less than a minute putting things like his car keys and your suitcase away before pulling you towards the bedroom. He sat you down on the mattress and you had no time to protest (not like you would) before he placed all of his weight above you. With your back to the softness of the silky cover, you contentedly hummed and closed your eyes for a brief moment, “I need to change.”

“Five minutes,” Keiji then begins to caress your arms and bury his head on your chest, breathing you in once more.

Your hands fled to his hair, massaging the strands of raven and kissing the crown of his head, “I’ll only be staying for three days.”

A sound similar to a groan escaped from his throat, “That’s too soon.”

“I have a job too,” you laugh, “I was lucky enough to exchange with one of my coworkers so I could leave this weekend.”

“I miss you already,” Keiji practically whines, unlike his usual character.

“Don’t miss me while I’m still here,” you tugged at some of the strands on the back of his head, “And we’ll see each other again in three weeks, remember?” pertaining to their band’s final concert being held back in Japan, you would be watching the show alongside his family—who still don’t know about your relationship, the both of you have been having a difficult time bringing it up.

“Three weeks too long,” Keiji finally rose from half-suffocating you with his weight and instead started to look for clothes he could give you to change into, “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m not the one flying from country to country and performing for almost three hours every night,” you sat on the bed, using your elbows as support as you watched him shuffle through his luggage.

“Not every night,” Keiji comments before rising and handing you his clothes which you placed on your lap. He stood between your legs and used a hand to tilt your head up towards him, he was looking at you so intensely.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him as you now only realize the slight haziness in his gaze. You knew he was in a mini celebration an hour before being here, but he said he hadn’t planned on drinking, “And you drove here?”

Keiji shook his head, drunk on you, possibly, “I barely had a glass, just to entertain the staff. I drove here safely, I swear.”

“You better have,” you give one more pointed look at him before falling back on the bed, you close your eyes. You were getting heavy-eyed, soon, sleep will win you over.

“You’re the one who said you had to change, only a few minutes have passed,” Akaashi chides you.

You groaned and opened one of your eyes and raised an arm, “Do it for me.”

Akaashi raised a brow, you were getting into one of your moods he was all too familiar with. Who was he to deny your request? He pulled you up to a sitting position once again, his hands on the hem of your shirt. Before he pulled it off you, he glanced up only to see you smiling languidly at him, “You love me so much,” you begin to tease.

“I do,” Keiji smiles softly at you.

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Hello! Attention to [l/n] [name].”

You look at Kaiya who has been trying to get your attention for the past minute, “Sorry?” you give her a sheepish smile, your thoughts were on the mini-vacation you let yourself have with Akaashi a month ago. You spent the past thirty minutes or so letting her family simply drag you around because you were distracted by the crowd at Ikarus’ concert. You were waiting outside because Keiji’s mother wanted to fall in line and buy merch. Kaiya complained that they could just ask Keiji for the items she wanted but her mother shushed her saying that wasn’t as authentic. Keiji’s mom was set on having the “full fan experience”.

“Why are you so dazed?” she tilted her head to the side, which awfully reminded you of Keiji (you started missing him even more). “Because you’re seeing my brother?” Kaiya scrunched up her face and made a gagging sound, “Did you not just see him a few weeks ago?”

You started looking around, sighing in relief when you saw that Akaashi’s father was with his wife, “Watch what you say,” you pouted.

Kaiya glanced at where you were looking, “When are you planning to tell them?”

“Soon,” you shrugged, you admit you were still nervous about telling them about your long-term relationship with their son. It’s been years and you know it’s been long overdue, you were ready to face the backlash that would come with hiding your relationship from them for so long.

Kaiya shook her head at you and then proceeded to take something out of her purse, she laid out the card attached to a lanyard to you, “Before I forget, your backstage pass,” you took it from her gratefully. The glossy surface of the card hits the rays of the sun, and you observe the words ‘All Access’ shown under the band’s logo. It wasn��t the first time you’ve gone to his concerts so you were already familiar with the processes, you were even friendly with some of the staff.

“You girls go on ahead, it’s a bit hot and your mother is going to take a while,” Akaashi’s father jogs to you both and nudges Kaiya to go, “She’s raving on and on about having to get that mini version of Keiji and I admit I kind of want to get that version of their album with lots of little things inside too, I want to test out my luck and see if I could get your brother’s picture on a first try—you know those little cardboards with pictures right?”

“So you would rather see him in pictures rather than going inside and meeting the real deal?” Kaiya comments.

“Yes, now go,” Akaashi’s father smiles at you before running back to Mrs. Akaashi.

“Oh, whatever, let’s go,” Kaiya saunters to the arena as if she owned the place and you trailed behind her looking at the crowds of people waiting outside, the concert wasn’t starting in another three hours yet there were already tons who were in line. You kind of felt a bit bad because you could just go inside without any worries. These were people who adored the man you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend, not as much as you—you like to believe, no one knows and loves him more than you—but that was your more selfish side talking.

“Kaiya, do you even remember where the common room is?” you asked, your memory and sense of direction weren't well. The last time you went here was their opening concert which was over a year ago.

“Uh, no, but we’ll see someone we know soon,” Kaiya was confident, walking in a straight direction as if she knew where she was going. A bunch of the crew arranging lights and holding boxes were walking around but no faces you were familiar with. It wasn’t long before we were blocked by guards on the way to a segregated part of the building.

“Are you looking for the green room?” the guard asked, eyeing your passes and affirming that you were actually allowed to be here but the both of you clearly looked lost. Kaiya kept looking around, you thought she was acting suspicious (and the guard must think so too) so you grabbed her wrist to make her focus.

“I’m looking for my brother,” Kaiya took out her phone. You wanted to just ask the guard nicely to direct you guys to the waiting room.

“And your brother is…?” The guard looked like they wanted to get this over with too.

“Akaashi Keiji,” Kaiya looked up from her phone, “He said we should go to the dressing rooms,” she pointed at her device. You do not recall Keiji saying any of that, he hasn’t opened his phone in a while, he usually doesn’t use it hours before a performance to focus. You looked at Kaiya, wondering what she was planning up her sleeves.

“Kaiya-san? [name]-san?” a soft-spoken voice interrupted, the both of you turned to see Rika, Sakusa’s personal assistant if you remembered correctly. The familiar face came to you both when you needed it, “Are you guys looking for Akaashi-san? You can follow me. I'm on the way there because my cousin needs his coffee to calm his pre-show nerves,” she rolled her eyes.

Rika nodded at the guard who let her and you both through, you smiled at them before following Rika.

“How are you, Rika-san?” you asked, taking one of her bags to carry it for her since she was holding coffee and a folder with her.

“Been better, my cousin’s being a huge headache to me because of… some things,” she shook her head as if she was shouldering the world's heaviest burdens, “How are you and Akaashi-san?”

“I’m fine—wait, what?” that caught you off-guard, it made you halt in your tracks.

“Uhm… was I wrong? Are you both not in a relationship? Kiyoomi thought you were together as well,” Rika started walking again and soon you saw more people in the hallways.

Kaiya began to cackle, “Aha! I told you it was obvious.”

“You’re not wrong, Rika-san but uhm is it really that obvious?” you start to heat up, your cheeks suddenly feeling warm.

“Well, he always has his eyes on you whenever you two are in the same room and after observing your interactions for the past years that’s what I concluded. If it’s a secret, I’m sure a lot of people don’t have a clue, this lot isn’t very observant after all,” Rika shrugged, “Anyways! This is the main sitting area, further back are the dressing rooms. The guys just got ready so they must be just lounging around somewhere alone, they’re all doing their pre-show rituals most likely.”

The both of you thanked Rika and you handed her bag back as she went on ahead mumbling about having to practically play hide and seek with how difficult Sakusa would be to find. Kaiya linked her arm with yours and dragged you once again to find the dressing room with Keiji’s name on it.

Once you both were in front of the door, Kaiya began her incessant knocking that is sure to give Keiji confusion and a headache all at once knowing his staff would never make such a ruckus, “I have a delivery for an Akaashi Keiji,” she was snickering in between her words while you shook your head at her antics.

It wasn’t long before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of Keiji ladled with accessories he wouldn’t usually put on in day-to-day life, such as stud earrings you were really liking the look of. You looked up at him only to see his eyes which were decorated with a brownish hue on the lids that were already on yours. Perhaps Rika did have a point.

“[name],” he said breathlessly and was already holding your free hand that wasn’t being clutched by the other Akaashi on your side.

“I’m here too! You’re welcome!” Kaiya exclaimed, pulling you back so Keiji wouldn’t successfully get a hold of you.

“Hi Kaiya,” Keiji smiled at his sister, still not letting go of you too. Kaiya eyed that action and then looked up at her older brother who was looking at her blankly. Kaiya and you could both tell that Keiji was trying to tell her sister to leave, you were holding back your full-on grin.

“I accept thanks in the form of cash,” Kaiya patted your forearm before pushing you towards Keiji’s chest, the latter caught you in time and pulled you closer.

“Check your account after the show,” was Keiji’s only reply before bringing you inside and shutting the door.

“I feel as if your relationship has been turning transactional over the years,” you comment, finally letting out your laugh at the siblings’ antics. Kaiya meant well, of course, the monetary things were just a bonus. You looked around the room, spotting a guitar in the middle of the room and the mirrors on the walls which immediately caught your eye. A black settee was against the wall and a small glass table was on the side.

“I think she still holds a grudge against me for ‘taking you away’,” Keiji raises a hand to tuck loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “Because I was never sorry about it.”

His words gave you that fluttery feeling in your stomach that you’ve learned to become used to whenever you were around him, “Poor Kaiya,” you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, he buried his face in your hand and placed a feather-light kiss on your palm.

Keiji talked to you with his eyes, it was a question and a request all at once. You bit your lower lip as you observed his plump, gloss-stained one's part. Suddenly, it was all too suffocating and difficult to breathe if you didn't lean your face against his and capture the oxygen you badly needed. It seems he was thinking the same thing because he started leaning closer to you as if the urge to be nearer couldn’t be subdued.

But before he could relieve both of your longings, you took a step back, blinking and urging your senses to come back to normal, “You just got ready,” the staff’s best interest in mind.

Akaashi tilted his head to the side, that hazy look back in his eyes, “It can be fixed,” he held both of your arms in his grasp, caressing them in a way to ease and comfort you.

“Your stylist will hate me,” you pointed out, yet you were engrossed with the way he pulled you towards the couch. You had a slight feeling you were being tricked in order for Akaashi to get what he wanted at this particular moment, which was the same thing you were depriving yourself of.

Keiji sat down and his hands went down to your upper leg and gently nudged so you followed down, the plush of your thighs settled on his. You internally scold yourself for giving in, he knows all of your weak points, one of them was how you could be easily distracted by him, “I’ll take the scolding, my love.”

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, you tugged on the hair on his nape as you let your breath tangle with his. He was intoxicating, did he know he was intoxicating? Your eyes fluttered to a close because you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips against his, he let out a satisfied groan on the back of his throat. You took in the woody scent of his cologne, the silken texture of his hair, and the pillowy almost velvet feel of his lips on yours. You should really be thinking of the consequences of your actions and the amount of people who will be burdened after this ordeal, yet, right now you could only enjoy the searing heat of his skin igniting with yours.

You felt one of his hands that held a grip on your thighs climb to your waist, he tugged on the material of your shirt before sliding his hand underneath. It elicited a small gasp from you which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

That was when your phone started to ring to an all too familiar tune, in a daze you pulled away from him, much to his opposition, “That’s Kaiya calling,” you say, leaning your forehead on his.

Akaashi took your phone out from your pocket before putting it on the side, “She can manage to wait for a few more seconds,” he said, placing soft kisses on your cheeks and eventually capturing your lips in his.

You laughed at his reasoning before losing yourself in him once again, his hand was splayed on your stomach, caressing your skin. He pulled away and pecked you on the lips once more before leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw. You feel his teeth nip on your skin and a shiver runs over your spine.

The sudden opening of the door and a shriek made you freeze.

“Oh my!”

“Agh, my eyes!”

Akaashi’s reflexes were faster and more alert as he flipped you over so he would be hiding you from the door, he knew how you would be feeling uncomfortable with eyes on you and you were grateful his first thought was to shield you from further embarrassment. You glanced at his state, his messy hair and the stain on his lips smudged. You took it upon yourself to start fixing his appearance by wiping the sides of his mouth since it was your fault.

Keiji started straightening his clothes and patting down his hair as you did the same before he faced his parents and sister. You looked over his shoulder to see his mother frozen and you winced. Your heart started to race and not in the nice way Keiji made you feel, Keiji noticed this change in your demeanor as well and you felt him place his hand on yours in an effort to calm you down.

“This was probably why Kaiya was calling you,” Keiji mumbled under his breath, it was an effort to make the atmosphere lighter for you. He gave you a small smile before urging you to stand up. Keiji faced his parents and his sister who were all standing by the door, Kaiya was exaggeratingly fanning their mother who still wasn’t moving, with your hand still in his, he claimed, “[name] and I are dating, we have been for a few years now.”

A brief silence went over the room and it felt like an eternity for you when it was actually just a few seconds. Keiji’s father broke the smothering quietness.

“I knew it! You owe me, honey,” his father said with a loud cackle, his hand splayed out to Keiji’s mother beside him, “I told you our son’s feelings for dear [name] weren’t one-sided!”

“No!” their mother unfroze and put her hands in her palms.

You and Keiji were confused, even Kaiya stilled from her place.

“You bet on this happening?” Keiji asked, pulling you closer to his side so your nerves would rest.

“No, my son, your mother thought that you and [name] weren’t dating yet and that you were only pining for her while I said you both were already in a relationship. I had faith in you, son, I knew you had a backbone,” his father laughed in delight once more and swung an arm over his mother’s shoulders.

“We saw a picture of [name] in your room when we stayed at your penthouse a few months ago,” his mother tried to explain, hitting his father on the chest.

You recalled that very picture, you were wearing a sundress and were in the middle of looking back when Keiji took the picture. You were laughing and clutching your beach hat over your head in an attempt to not let the wind carry it away with the breeze. When you first saw it displayed in his room, you complained that there were a lot of better pictures of you but Keiji rebutted that this was the first one he took of you looking at him and that’s why he cherished it the most.

“Guess you guys were all worried for nothing!” Kaiya found herself and backed away from her parents, “I’d like to say that I was the original person who knew by the way, and I kept it in for so long. Not that they weren’t obvious,”

Akaashi clearly felt how you were being restless, he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Are you okay, love?”

You rub your wrist as you look up at him, “Well I’m honestly feeling a bit mortified.”

“You guys should've locked the door,” Kaiya said in a sing-song tone, “Imagine how I feel? I did not push you in this room for that. How could I possibly know you’d jump each other the moment you were left alone? I always thought you guys were rated G!”

You feel your face heating up once again and Keiji scolding his sister, “Perhaps you should go and call your stylist,” you suggest, trying to save some of your dignity.

Keiji eyes his sister and she got the hint and shuffled her parents—who were still arguing—out the door. You knew this wasn’t the end of it and a lot of explaining will have to be given to his parents (they wouldn’t leave you guys alone otherwise). With your eyes on the door, Keiji tried taking your attention by softly turning your face towards his.

“How do you feel?” he asks, smiling warmly at you.

“It’s… nice that we don’t have to hide it anymore,” you pressed your forehead on his chest, “I’m still feeling shy though.”

Keiji wrapped his arms around you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “How much time do you need to recover?”

“A minute and more of your hugs perhaps?” you ask, burying your face more in his chest. You should be urging him to go to his stylist already, but it wouldn’t be bad to keep him for another minute or so.

“I’m sorry they found out in an… unconventional way,” with your head pressed against his chest you could feel the rumble of his voice, the deep and lulling sound helping you calm down.

“Okay, I think I’m okay now,” you tried stepping away but he held you in your place, “Why?”

“I still need to recharge,” Keiji engulfs you in his warmth once more, “After this, it’s no more alone time. I’d have to wait another eight hours for that, so I need to get my fill now.”

Another round of silence baited and the only thing you could hear was the steady beat of his heart, it made you smile. Quiet moments with him came few and far in-between but when they did come, it felt as if the whole world was on your side and everything would always be okay.

“You’re so good to me, Keiji,” your voice cracks in the way of your emotions.

He responds by embracing you impossibly tighter, “What do you think about living together?” he drops the question, “It’s just something I’ve been thinking over, we don’t have to rush or anything but I just wanted to know what you think.”

It wouldn’t be too odd of a question, you practically spent every waking moment together whenever you both had the chance. That included staying over at each other’s places and spending most of your time together indoors. He’d love to spend more days waking up next to you, whenever you were there he felt nothing but peace and he wouldn’t mind for that feeling to stay with him for the rest of his life. The cheers of the crowd were exhilarating but the silence spent with you was more fulfilling.

“I’d love that,” you say, standing on your tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

You looked up at him under your lashes and Keiji felt that rush of intensifying feelings coming over him, his hands came to cup both of your cheeks as he placed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, “I’d like to know of your thoughts in another matter that’s been on my mind,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“What is it?” your tone was light and airy. A few minutes from now you’ll have to give way for his staff to get him ready for the world. Right now you’d like to keep him to yourself, the world can wait.

“What do you think about marriage?”

HEADLINE:

Ikarus’ lead vocalist Akaashi Keiji announces he’s married!

leia @keijisrealgf I WAS SIMPING FOR A MARRIED MAN????? 4:20 PM · Jun 23 20XX

pia @ikarusavedme not even a girlfriend or an engagement.. but MARRIAGE 4:18 PM · Jun 23 20XX

kei @menexceptikarus he always gave family man vibes not surprised ngl 4:27 PM · Jun 23 20XX

a/n — alright so i went a bit overboard with this one JWBDEJXBDN ill say this is for taking so long to conclude akaashi's story lmao

general taglist + @luvrsthrist @cherries4denki @cloud-lyy @misscaller06 @noideawhothatis @wolffmaiden @rivaiken @wooasecret @Eclecticlandmughoagie @nicerthanu @sukunasrealgf @ris-krispie @seiamor @electriclovei @leeknowsarchive @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @sexyandcringe @rinheartshyunlix @wh0zumy2k @iluv-ace @xiakyo @sanaexus @clyches @noble-17

[icyminghao]

i don’t understand (but i love you)

pairing: minghao x gn!reader genre: fluff, some angst, comfort, established relationship word count: 1.5k warning(s): none

summary: despite the communication barrier, minghao and you have been doing well. at least, that’s what minghao thinks. but when he sees you conversing so freely in your native language with someone else, he doesn’t really know what to think anymore.

based on this request by @phenomenalgirl9!

read (pretty) hungry, you nailed it! and a little sweet, which are set in the same universe!

Minghao and you have always been doing great. At least, that’s what Minghao thinks.

He’d met you while he was browsing the shelves of a bookstore while on vacation, and he’d forever be grateful that you reached for that one mystery book the same time he did, or he would never have known of your existence (he can’t bear to imagine how he would have turned out if he hadn’t).

You didn’t speak any of the languages he did, but he was absolutely mesmerised by you nonetheless, too lost in your eyes to pay attention to how you were frantically apologising for grabbing the book, rambling on in your native language about how you’d actually read it before but loved it so much you had to get the physical copy that he’d gotten caught staring after failing to notice that you had already stopped talking for about a minute.

He’d wordlessly placed his phone on your hands, and you looked down at the screen to see the interface of the Phone application, except the text was all in Korean. You’d marveled that you’ve never actually met a Korean before in your broken Korean, and Minghao swore he fell for you harder in that instant, too absorbed in the fact that you had tried to converse with him in a language he knew to correct you on his heritage. He could do that later (and that he did).

Subsequently after your first meeting, or as Seokmin calls it, your “meet-cute”, Minghao spent every moment he had with you while he was still in the country. Dates mainly consisted of getting to know each other at your favourite café, where the both of you fell into a routine of trading book recommendations and talking about each other’s book recommendations. It was there that you found out about Minghao’s first language and subsequently hounded him to teach you Chinese, much to his enjoyment. Of course, Minghao wasn’t naïve and was well aware of the limited time that the both of you shared, but he couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper and deeper for you anyway.

It was like luck was really on his side, though, when you told him that you’d been accepted into a college in Seoul for your Masters Degree. He’d been so over the moon he asked you to be his partner right away, and the rest was history.

So, despite the communication barrier, Minghao and you have definitely been doing great. The two of you may not be able to say much to each other (but you’re both trying, really hard), but the comforting reality is that there isn’t a need for much words between the two of you. You always seem to know what he’s thinking, as he does for you (much to the dismay of Minghao’s friends, who constantly groan about how the both of you always communicate with your “disgusting, lovesick eyes” and leave them out), so there simply isn’t a need for much words to be exchanged between you both.

But as he looks at you from across the bar, smiling and laughing at a childhood friend visiting Seoul for the week, as he looks at you being more talkative than you’ve ever been with him considering that your friend shared the same first language as you did, Minghao can’t help but let the insecurities eat away at him.

Your Korean has definitely improved a lot since the both of you had first met, so you could definitely engage in more conversations with each other now, but it’s the way you looked so comfortable conversing in your first language that really struck Minghao. Maybe you would be better off being with someone like your friend, someone who spoke the same language as you did? Maybe you’d be much happier than you were with him if you’d just left him and went for your friend instead? After all, the both of you do look very much like a childhood-friends-to-lovers kind of pair. Minghao’s just getting in the way, right?

As Minghao starts spiralling down the bottomless pit of his insecurities and overthinking, you seem to pick up on his deteriorating mood, eyes searching and finding his from across the crowded bar. Your eyes soften as you slightly raise your eyebrows in what Minghao interprets as an “Are you good?”, and he sends you a tight-lipped smile in response, nodding slowly. You don’t seem to buy into Minghao’s flimsy attempt at waving off what’s wrong, however, and excuse yourself from the conversation promptly before making your way over to him. Minghao tries not to let his glee at you picking him over your friend show, instead keeping his eyes on you for the entire duration it takes for you to walk over to him.

“What’s wrong, hm?” you ask the moment you’re face-to-face with Minghao, reaching to rest one hand on his cheek. Minghao sighs and closes his eyes, leaning into your warmth.

“Did you…” he slowly opens his eyes to look into your glittering, love-filled ones, “did you manage to catch up with your friend?”

A look of surprise washes over you, having not expected your friend to be the topic of conversation. “Oh, yeah! We talked a bit about how things were like back at home, but that’s it, really.”

Home. Minghao feels his heart ache at that word. Home is where you and your childhood friend reside, where he doesn’t exist. Home is where you should be, is all that crosses in Minghao’s mind.

“Baobei*?” your saccharine voice pulls him out of his self-deprecating thoughts, your eyes softening as your brows furrow at him in worry, “What’s wrong? Should we leave?”

You remove the hand on his cheek to grab his wrist and lead him towards the exit without waiting for his answer, and Minghao yearns for your touch on his face again. You weave through the crowd expertly, with such a determined stride that Minghao can’t help but smile at how seriously you’re taking this. It’s really not good for his poor heart.

As soon as the both of you step out of the bar, you’re pulling Minghao to a nearby bench and sitting him down, fretting over him as all he does is stare up at you with the softest eyes. Not seeing anything external to worry about, you move to sit beside him, taking one of his hands in yours to rub the back of his palm soothingly.

“Are you feeling unwell? Please tell me,” your voice comes out soft, and laced with so much worry that Minghao can’t help but feel bad for making you feel like this because of him.

He shakes his head, moving to rest his free hand on top of yours. “It’s nothing, I just… I just wasn’t used to seeing you so talkative, I guess.”

Your face morphs into one of confusion, seemingly not understanding what Minghao is getting at. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

“Do you… sometimes wish you were with someone whom you could speak the same language freely to? Like… your friend just now.

It’s just… when you’re with me, it’s like you’re always thinking before speaking, like you’re trying to piece together coherent sentences that I would understand, and when I saw you today talking to your friend with such ease it just made me think that maybe you’d be better off with someone like him, someone whom you don’t have a language barrier with, you know?” Minghao doesn’t know when his grip on your hand tightens, or when the first tear falls, but he’s suddenly finding himself sobbing like a child on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around him and pat his back reassuringly, cooing at him to calm him down.

“Baobei…” you coo, patting his back rhythmically as a sign that you’re there with him, “Who’s to say that I’d be better off with someone else who’s not you? I would have an easier time conversing with someone who speaks the language I speak fluently, yes, but I chose to be with you because I think we have a bond that transcends the limits of language, Minghao. You always seem to know what I’m trying to say even when I fumble with my words, as I do for you. I’m choosing to be here with you to navigate our relationship together because I love you, Minghao, and no one else. So no, I don’t sometimes wish I were with someone whom I could speak the same language freely to, because I have you.”

Minghao removes his head from your shoulder to stare at you with his reddened eyes and tear-stricken face, and you pout at the sight. It’s not often that you see Minghao crying, much less in public, so this issue must have really affected him badly.

“I love you too,” he chokes out, practically launching himself into your arms, hugging you so tight as if you were going to slip out of his grasp if he didn’t. “please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Baobei,” you smile, tilting your head to plant a soft kiss on his hair.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

*: Baobei (宝贝) — Chinese term of endearment for “baby” or “love”.

a/n: i love them sm i feel like i’m probably gonna be writing drabbles set in this universe bc minghao reminds me sm of jem carstairs (from the infernal devices) here and 😵‍💫😵‍💫 jem my book boyfie fr

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @xomingyu @belladaises @pepperonidk @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia

masterlist

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hi hi! I have a req- can you maybe please write a Megumi x reader where they get lost in a haunted house and the reader is too scared to move and Megumi helps her (as a stranger) and then it goes more from that ?

I fell in love with this immediately and needed to write that wonderful request of yours! Thank you so much darling, I'm crossing my fingers you like what I came up with 😭

Getting lost at a haunted house only to be saved by Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Warnings: your friends are shitty, Megumi is a sweetheart, reader is obviously scared of creepy stuff lol

„This is probably the worst thing you ever made me do”, Megumi mutters, annoyed by the sheer sight in front of him.

When Gojo-sensei told them about a day off, he certainly didn’t see himself going to an amusement park with Itadori and Kugisaki. He should have stayed back, he could have read the new book he just bought, enjoying the silence of empty Jujutsu High while the others were out doing whatever they want. But instead, he finds himself surrounded by crying children with their hands covered in sweets, people bumping into him with every step he takes.

What on earth is he doing here?

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Fushiguro. How about going out and having some fun instead of making it your mission to look as if somebody killed your puppy? Geez.”

“Look, a haunted house!”, Yuji cries out, his eyes glossy from sheer excitement.

“Oh, I wanna go in!”

“I don’t wanna go in”, you protest while your friends literally drag you after themselves.

To be honest, the thought of going into a haunted house alone makes you want to leave immediately. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s creepy stuff. No matter if it’s as innocent as Halloween or things like horror films based on a true story. There is nothing worse than getting jump scared, feeling as if your heart will stop beating any minute, cold sweat running down your neck. No, there is absolutely no way in hell you will step one foot into this cursed place, you’ll just wait here and get some ice cream, you’ll-

“I really don’t wanna do this”, you whine into pitch-black darkness, heavy creepy music making you feel sick in an instant.

Your heartbeat hammers against your already aching chest, palm getting so sweaty that you are unable to hold onto the hand of your friend any longer.

“Hey, where are you? I-I think I lost you guys!”

No response, no sign of life. Just you, the darkness around you and your own blood rushing through your ears.

Fuck, you can’t do this alone. Where is the emergency exit when you need it? Is there somebody else around you?

“H-hello?”

No response, no sign of life.

Panic starts to rise in your chest, disturbing screams, violent laughter and creepy music drowning your head in nothing but thick fear. You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Your wobbly feet carry you down the dark hallway. But instead of being able to simply sprint through the tunnel of horror, you are greeted by a never-ending hallway that is that is filled with macabre clowns decorating each and every centimetre around you. There aren’t many things that scare you more than strange dolls that look like Annabell herself, but clowns…You hated them since you were a child, no matter how friendly they looked.

And these ones definitely don’t.

“Are you lost, little one?”

That voice is close, too close for your liking. You rest your eyes for a second, pretend that this deep voice that shook you to your core isn’t really there. No, this must be part of the music, a stupid joke-

“I am still here.”

Something touches your arm. Out of instinct, you widen your glossy eyes, staring straight into the maniac grin of a clown.

A real clown.

Not just a doll.

Your body react on its own, a violent shriek escaping your lips.

Run.

As fast as you can, past the clown decorating the wall, straight into nothing but darkness while this little voice inside your head can’t stop laughing about your pathetic self. How old are you? 10?

It doesn’t matter. Your frightened eyes are darted fowards, adrenaline pumping through your veins while all you can think about is stepping through that door, getting out of this living nightmare as soon as possible. You just need to push yourself a little harder, get through this dark hallway right in front of you and it will be over, you are almost there-

You see stars. Before you are even process what happens, you bump into something hard and fall straight onto the floor with your head spinning in confusion. Was is a wall, a door? No, the dim light shows you the outline of a person. Your guts turn in an instant, the horrifying face of that clown you saw seconds ago still haunting your mind. Please, not another one of these actors.

It stretches out his hand, ready to grab you.

“NO!”, you scream on top of your lungs, crawling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape those fingertips.

Megumi can’t help but stare at your puny figure in sheer disbelief. Why the hell are you so scared? And why are you here on your own? Your thick and heavy breaths hang in the air between you both, distracting him from his mission to find a way out of here after Itadori and Kugisaki ran away like some 4-year old kids.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to find my way out of here”, he calmly announces.

You blink against the darkness around you, too stunned to say a single word. That is definitely a boy with a voice that could calm down entire oceans, making your heartbeat tame down in an instant.

“Let me help you up, okay? Give me your hand.”

There it is, his big hand stretched out in front of you. Like in trance you take it, palms still covered in cold sweat when he lifts you off the ground with ease. In the dim light you aren’t able to see anything but the outline of his features, his tall and actually quite muscular frame.

“We’ll get out of here together, just don’t let go of my-“

In the matter of seconds, your whole body clings onto his arm for what feels like dear life, nails digging into his firm biceps without mercy. He can’t leave you alone here like your friends did, there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll let go of this boy.

Much to Megumi’s fortune, the room is so dark that you can’t tell the deep blush creeping up his face. You’re a girl with a voice sounding so angelic that it caught him off guard, with your breast pressed against his arm-

Oh god.

“Let’s go”, he mumbles.

He forces himself to stare in front of him, to not risk a look at you while tumbling down the dark hallway with you by his side. But the second he opens the next door filled with red lights, his gaze wanders to his left side, gets greeted by your doe eyes immediately.

Time stands still, Megumi’s heart pounding as hard as yours when all he does is staring at your way too gorgeous but frightened features. You have to be around his age, even though it’s hard to tell in that strange light. But oh your face definitely matches your angelic voice.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone”, you mumble against his arm, eyes directed towards the next door ahead of you.

“There’s no need to thank me. How did you end up in here anyway if you are this scared?”

“My friends forced me and left me after the first door on my own.”

Megumi huffs in response. Well, that definitely sounds way too familiar. When he sees these two idiots again…

“But aren’t they aware of the fact that you’re scared?”

“Everyone is. But I guess they just thought it would be funny…”

“It’s not”, Megumi replies in an instant.

“You don’t deserve this. It might not make sense to them, but you are stressed. And no friend should want to see you like this for their own amusement.”

You swallow hard, still holding onto his arm tightly. Of course you know that he’s right, that your “friends” aren’t suppose to treat you this way. But you’d never say it out loud, would never confront them.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His voice catches your attention just before you start to panic over another set of creepy dolls laughing in the corner, his arm moving you closer to him.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

When you gaze up at him again, his world stops spinning for a minute. You really seem to trust him, your hands still intertwined with his arm, your body firmly pressed against his side. You look so lovely, seem like such a nice person. It becomes more and more personal to get you out of here.

“I’m sure we are close to the exit. Focus on me, okay?”

“My name is (y/n)”, you suddenly blurt out.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Nice to meet you (y/n).”

Out of his mouth, your name sounds so relaxing, so melodic. His calm voice really suits the ocean of his dark blue eyes that never break contact with yours even though he walks down the hallway with you by his side.

“I think this is the last door.”

With a swift motion, he opens it. Slowly but surely his features get light up by lantern light, the cries and screams from the amusement park ringing in your ears again. You take a look around you.

He really did it.

You made your way out of the tunnel of horror.

“Thank you so much for helping me out”, you mutter, pulling him into a tight hug before you are able to stop yourself.

What would have happened if he didn’t find you, if he didn’t keep a cool head and lead you through the right doors? You rest your head against his broad chest, heartbeat calming down completely. How lucky you are to have met him.

“Oh – uh…No problem at all”, he mutters.

Megumi has to tell himself over and over to keep a straight face, to not allow himself to turn redder than the devil himself. But you hold onto him so tightly, so thankful for nothing but the fact that he guided you out of a haunted house.

“Who’s that girl, Fushiguro?”

You let go of him immediately, eyes darting towards a girl with short brown hair coming your way while dragging a pink-haired boy behind her like a bag of trash.

“After you left me alone in there, I met (y/n) and she helped me finding a way out.”

“Nice to meet you (y/n)!”, the other boy greets you instantly, a kind grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have helped him, Fushiguro fits just right in a tunnel of horror”, the girl comments dryly.

“There you are! We thought the clowns already ate you up!”

Oh no, not now, not in front of him and his friends. You want to sprint away, to hide yourself from your “friends”. But instead, all you can do is stare blankly why both of them approach you with a toxic smile.

“Is this what you consider funny? Dragging (y/n) in there and leaving her alone even though you know she’s scared?”

Megumi’s body tenses up immediately as he positions himself between you and the other girls. They really have some nerves, approaching you like this after what they did. There is no way he’ll let them get away with that.

“Huh? Who the hell are you and why would you care?”

“Because I was scared as well and (y/n) helped me to find a way out.”

He glimpses at you for the split of a second. It’s more than crystal clear that he’s lying. You need to stand up for him, defend him, tell them the truth.

“Oh, you’re braver than I thought (y/n)”, one of them mutters.

“Yeah…Well…We see each other tomorrow, okay? Bye?”

And with that, they disappear into the evening, their awkward walk leaving you speechless for a second.

“Promise me you’ll never let them treat you like this again”, he finally speaks up again.

“I…I promise….”

“Can you just give her your number so that we’re able to grab something to eat? I’m starving”, the girl next to him complains.

“Yeah, I’m super hungry as well!”

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?”, Megumi hisses under his breath.

“But…would you mind giving me your number?”

-Bonus-

"Megumi-chan!"

His steps quicken in an instant, carrying down the hallway of Jujutsu High at high tempo. If there's one thing he's not in the mood for right now, it's definetely Gojo-sensei. Itadori and Kugisaki probably told him ever little thing about you.

"There's no running for me. Tell me, who's the girl you've been with today?"

He can't help but roll his eyes, the wide grin on his teacher's face simply driving him insane.

"I just met her today", he mumbles in response.

"Don't forget to use protection, I don't wanna be a grand-"

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP"

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Gorgeous dividers by @saradika-graphics

[everythingseasoning]

How the AOT men love you (SFW & slight NSFW).. PT 1

MINORS: Please DNI. Further reading means you consent to reading everything here, though it's pretty vanilla tbh.

EREN - A bit rough around the edges regarding emotional intimacy. Don't get me wrong, he definitely will straight up tell you "I love you so much, y/n," -- he's not afraid of saying what he feels. However, because he isn't as reflective and insightful and calm as Armin is (Eren's a little more simple-minded), he isn't a guy who does fluffy stuff all the time. He's more about action and adventure -- always pulling you into the next great thing.

*NEEDS* you to be safe, and happy. He will only feel satisfied if you're doing okay. Man cares about you, more than anything else.

Oh .. oh, Eren is definitely very blunt, and stubborn. He sees things in his own way, and it's hard to convince him to back down on anything he's got his mind set to. However, the flip side of this, is that he is fiercely caring, and righteous. Will protect you at all costs, even for little things: Some as*hole at the grocery store cut you off in line and you almost fell to the ground? Eren has a hand on your back and waist, steadying you, before he storms up to the man with the DARKEST look of determined hatred. This man has ZERO chill. (and we love him for it).

You are the most important thing in the world to him. He loves you so intensely and passionately that you won't have a chance to ever doubt it.

Fluff 1) You and Eren like to go on walks/runs together. Sometimes you two have races. Eren always wins (the little b*tch--) or ends up slinging you across his shoulder while running, the biggest smile on both of your faces as you two enjoy the rush of being with each other, and life. Life with Eren is just so right, exciting, and full of good times.

Fluff 2) Just how many beautiful waterfalls have you seen with Eren? You've even hiked a purple-flower covered mountain with him! And you've both tried many wild fruits, from the strange oblong shaped ones to pretty yellow star shaped ones-- Usually you were the one to notice the fruit while Eren glanced giddily all around the forest canopy and ground. It was tradition that whenever you two discovered another fruit plant/tree, Eren opens up the Wild Fruits and Plants You Can Eat book, gifted to you by Armin ("So that Eren doesn't accidentally eat something poisonous.") Sometimes Eren is not as bouncy with energy when you two explore the world, and instead he will hold your hand as you two stroll casually, cuddling up on each other's warmth.

NSFW 1) Eren isn't afraid to just.. straight up ask you.. when he wants it. He will look you up and down, eyes full of hunger. "I want you. How 'bout you?" Whewwww. 😮‍💨

LEVI - ohh boy i have so much to say about this little dude...

Would go absolutely crazy and turn into a battle demon, if he saw the love of his life in danger. ...

If Levi somehow found the right somebody, and actually spent enough time with them to be in a relationship, he would NEED his partner to be safe. He will not risk losing you-- he won't. Not after Isabel and Farlan..not again. So if you're ever in danger, you will see an overpowered beast emerge from that man's body and soul.

Levi isn't the best at emotional intimacy, is very stiff when it comes to words of affirmation. He hadn't ever really thought about love. He never even thought he'd have the option to be safe physically, let alone be safe emotionally. --But when he does meet that person, they light up his life in ways that just stun him. They feel like a summer's glow. He will look 10 years younger with you by his side, will feel unprecedented relief whenever he goes back to you. Will scare all the cadets because he will have this stupid smile on his face whenever he sees you.

--But Levi is not used to being loved deeply. He wouldn't know what to DO with your love, and he'd definitely have trouble opening up and being vulnerable. Nonetheless, I do think he'd try; he has initiative to do well to you, and to give you everything he can give to you (starts off with him being your literal guardian demon, progresses into him becoming soft to you). It'd take time and effort for him to learn how to love you properly.

Fluff 1) In the beginning stages of your relationship, Levi would enjoy cleaning with you. He would find himself giving you commands to do more chores (with him).. because he -- wants to -- be with you -- so often??? (won't ever never admit this).

NSFW 1) Levi is a v*rgin. Yes. Yes he (most likely) is. He never met the right person before you, so he never had a chance/time to indulge in s*x. The first time you and Levi have s*x, Levi will have his mouth CLAMPED shut-- trying not to make a noise, trying to control his expressions of pleasure. You'll have to teach him/encourage him to just let go lol.

NSFW 2) Levi wanted to have s*x with you for so damn long cause he's soooo attracted to you, but he will not initiate it LOLLLL. He just doesn't know HOW to ask for that. You had to feel up on him and really let him know you wanted it (breathy whispers and requests), before he FINALLY took the reigns and pinned you against the wall, kissing you hard before taking you to the bedroom~~!!

Also, he's a fast learner. (Imagine with that what you will 🥵).

Fluff 3) & After you two finish, he will clean you up immediately. But after that he won't let you go. Will hold you in a hug for an eternity. Is addicted to your warmth and the love/care you two give to each other.

ARMIN - OH MY GOD NO BECAUSE - i'm so in love with this man - oKAYYY: Armin is a very thoughtful, perceptive, and practical lover. You would feel *so safe* around him, at ease, and like you can be your full self. He's very accepting.

Armin is also going to *look out for you.* He is insanely analytically accurate. He has a clear, reassuring, and gentle energy about him. You know that with Armin, you'll be protected from any new obstacle or harm's way.

You and Armin would see the world for fun. Armin is somebody who feels fascinated with exploring the world, and with learning. He'd probably want a partner who is brave. He'd probably want somebody whose actions or way of doing life, amaze him. He would be so f*cking blushy around you, stuttering and all, whenever you smile so brightly at him -- you're like the sun to him.

Armin *would die for you.* He practically died already, for Eren & the mission. Armin wouldn't hesitate to give himself up, because that's how deep and true his love is for you. (And you genuinely get mad at him for this... but neither of you will budge-- you'd both die for each other).

Fluff 1) You and Armin like to read together :'). Armin will have red blush dusted across his cheeks, and his eyes will be shining as he talks excitedly, imagining all the things the book talks about. You adore it.

Fluff 2) You tell Armin you had a rough day, and he will set up a bath for you. While you bathe in the dark with candles, Armin will be in the kitchen with stew or soup simmering on the stove, before he quietly leaves the house: He will personally scour the bookstore in order to find a book that he thinks will make you smile-- or a book you two will both enjoy reading together/discussing together. Literally this man is like light okay. When you come out from the shower he will be there with a fresh, steaming bowl of stew and a dessert he picked up from the store. You two will eat together and then read a book, cozily cuddling on the couch.. before things get s*xy.

NSFW 1) This man is a *PLEASURER* -- Everything will be gentle, but imbued with such strong love for YOU. Will worship your body. Armin will feel like the luckiest man alive. He sees all your goodness, admires you, and is huge on praising you. Also he moans a lot, even if it's just a soft one that escapes him. Not sorry.

NSFW 2) For my switches/d0ms: You care deeply for Armin, and you also want to see his face when he's a writhing mess-- Sometimes you'll tie him up, and he will... oh he will be so helpless and flustered. You will be giving him all the sensation and he will *love it so much.*

REINER - Somebody come get yo man TT!! Reiner is a f*cking sweet, really good guy. Would protect you and your children (if you have them)-- with EVERYTHING he has -- from difficult, unfair situations (like what he was put through). But, Reiner also probably would want somebody who is strong, because strength means you can protect yourself, and change the world -- Strength is a necessary trait for survival, and he is attracted towards people who are able to stay efficient and alive.

Reiner wants a morally beautiful/morally pure hearted partner. Definitely wants a good person (I mean... Him and Historia in Season, what was is, 2? --speaks for itself). AND I MEANNN Reiner has such a soft heart-- he literally cracked psychologically because he couldn't handle the trauma of being a double agent in a cruel world-- so his pure heart seeks out another pure heart <3

Reiner would ADORE relaxation time with you! He wants the soft fluff, and the soulful moments, like laying together under the stars-- being safe, peaceful, *free.* Reiner has had the burden of war and the Armored Titan like a boulder on his shoulders for ... as long as he can remember. When you're both cozied up together, hands interlaced under the big night sky, Reiner's heart will have bursted and melted all throughout his body. He hasn't ever felt freedom before-- until you. (don't mind me f*cking sobbing right now. he deserves the world!!)

Fluff 1) You and Reiner sometimes do typical, fluffy couple stuff, like go to parks and have picnics, or going to the aquarium, or baking together. Reiner loves the domestic life with you, and you will always catch him gazing dreamily at you, as if he's not sure you're really his. Are you actually right there in front of him? How did he get this lucky? ..Man short circuits a lot around you.

Will definitely be so caught up in his smittenness for you that when you drop the bread dough on the ground and start getting upset/sad, he will just be staring at you like o// //o, not even realizing what happened.

NSFW: I honestly haven't thought about this but I will update this post when I do have some accurate guess on what Reiner in the bedroom is like-- (you can comment if you wanna be tagged for when I do finish this post/ make part two)

𐡘 \

Don't forget to leave a like, or to comment/follow if you want!! Comment to be tagged in part 2! (Jean, Eld, Marco, Bertholt, Connie, Porco, Zeke, etc etc) Feel free to comment! I'd LOVE to hear y'all's thoughts on this post <3! Hope ur all okay.

[nina-ya]

Hey! It's my birthday and I was wondering if you write for Shanks? If you do, could you do a Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"? thanks

Ways That Shanks Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

A/N: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU NONNIE <3<3 I hope your birthday went well!! Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Shanks x reader CW: None. WC: 1.4k

Shanks had a talent for picking up on the smallest of details, especially when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you wanted, even before you had a chance to verbalize it. It was one of the many things that made being with him so special– his ability to read you like an open book.

One day, you two would be wandering through a market on a smaller island. The stalls are filled with various goods and trinkets, each one tempting you in their own way. You walked besides Shanks, taking in the atmosphere of the market. 

As you passed a stall filled with jewelry, a particular piece caught your eye. The craftsmanship was absolutely perfect and you just couldn’t help but admire it. You did not say anything, however, and you moved on from the stall to browse the other vendors. Shanks, though, stayed behind for just a moment, seemingly engrossed in the jewelry himself. Later, the sun began to set, and the market started to close. Shanks led you two back to the ship, and as you were settling down in your cabin, he pulled out a box, handing it to you.

“Got you something,” Shanks said, holding the box out to you with a grin. “Thought you might like it.” You opened the box and found the very piece of jewelry that you’d been eyeing earlier. The piece glimmered against the light, painting soft reflections of the room's light against the walls. You were taken aback, surprised that Shanks had gotten the very thing that you had shown interest in. 

“Shanks, you didn’t have to–” you began, but he interrupted your thoughts with a gentle laugh. 

“I wanted to,” he replied. “I saw the way you were looking at that thing earlier, and I couldn’t resist. Besides, if you really feel bad, I can think of a few ways that you could pay me back.” He said with a playful wink at the last comment. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, feeling lucky that you fell for someone as amazing as Shanks. He always had a way of making you feel special, spoiling you in the most thoughtful ways. You know Shanks loves you when he pays attention to all your wants and needs. - - -

It’s common for the crew to always seek out some sort of tavern when they make landfall. It’s a fun way to down booze while also getting to try the island's local cuisine. You sat at the bar, watching the red haired man on the other side of the bar as he chatted with the other crew members. He naturally stood out amongst the bunch, his voice projecting across the building. You could practically feel the charisma dripping from his words. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him. 

Shanks approached you with a grin, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. He leaned against the counter, elbows propped up casually, turning to you. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice projecting over the noise of the tavern. 

You nodded, and he motioned for the bartender to bring some drinks over to you two. Shanks picked up the drinks and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to a table in the corner, the seats being somewhat secluded from the rest of the tavern. While the crew was busy celebrating, Shanks was more than happy to hang out with you away from the rest of them

He slid your drink over to you and tapped the two glasses with a satisfying clink that rang throughout the room. While the others in the crew were being rowdy and singing sea shanties, Shanks sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. He keeps you engaged in a conversation, pointing out small things around the tavern and telling you interesting places he wants to visit while you guys are visiting the island. He had a way of making everything sound exciting, even if they are the most mundane things.

He would laugh at your jokes, eyes sparkling with amusement, and he would slightly lean closer to you as the noise grew louder to make sure he did not miss a word you said. It was as if you two were in your own bubble. You know Shanks loves you when he values spending alone time with you. - - - Shanks’ lap is always the best seat in the house during all the parties you two found yourselves in. His arm seemed to always find itself wrapped firmly around you, holding you close. You held a mug of rum, sharing sips with him, because he’d much rather use his one arm to hold you and keep you securely against him. Even when he is telling stories or engaging in conversation with others, his grip never loosens and you often could feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Tonight, the crew is gathered around a bonfire on the beach, the hot amber flames flickering, giving light to the celebration and filling the air with the sound of the occasional crackle and pop of the firewood. Shanks is right at home, reciting stories, full body boisterous laughter spilling from his lips. Even when his focus is not on you, you know that you are constantly lingering in his mind with the way he pulls you in just a little closer, whispering an inside joke that has you reeling over in laughter. As always you are the carrier of food and drinks, offering it to him every so often.  As the party winds down, Shanks stands, helping you to your feet, his arm still attached to you. It’s as if the world would crumble if he let go. Even as he guides you back to your shared quarters and into your bed, he still cannot seem to let go of you. There is just something about being in Shanks’ embrace that makes you feel so safe and so loved. As you drift off to sleep every night with his strong embrace cradling you to his chest, you know he will be right beside you when you wake up. You know Shanks loves you when he never lets go.

[penelopepine]

Hi!! I have total brain rot and i need to share ??

but imagine like Idol!reader who for some reason needs the 141 to watch over her or something. And shes just this small bright frilly thing who sings super cutesy or soft songs surrounded by these Big gruff men.. and all of them all just warming up to each other slowly. Like.. at first Reader is terrified by these men but she just falls in love with each one and they all end up liking her or smth idk??? I just need poly141 and a frilly bright Idol!reader whos also a absolute idiot. I just!!!

Ok I LOVE this!!! Thank you so much for sharing!

Reader doesn't know how to interact with any of them in the beginning, but slowly you learn about the soft side to these big gruff men. It was inevitable that you would eventually fall for each of them.

The 141 on the other hand first think that while you are cute you're also pretty dumb. Which is honestly kinda only a plus in their eyes. It took a bit for them to realize though that while you might now be book smart your emotional intelligence and kindness was off the charts, and that is what really made them fall in love with you.

For Price it was when you were doing a photo shoot and the hired makeup artist brought her baby in with her because the babysitter had cancelled on her. One of the studio managers was yelling at her when you arrived, and was clearly just about to hire her before you stepped in.

You fought with the manager, and defended the artist saying that the child being here was fine. This led to you sitting in the chair getting your makeup done while you held the woman's baby. Price couldn't help but think about what it would be like if that was your child.

Ghost couldn't help but love you when he went to the hospital with you for a make-a-wish kid. You were so kind and comforting to them; letting them hug and cry into your shoulder when you first made your appearance in their room.

You sang all of their favorite songs, and before you left you gave an anonymous donation to the family and the hospital. It reminded Ghost that being smart wasn't everything; he would much rather you be just as you are now.

It happened for Gaz when he had gotten minorly hurt while protecting you, and had taken it upon yourself to care for him while he was recovering.

You practically stayed by his side the whole time, and even when he was finally cleared to return to work you still hovered over him. Which is why he shouldn't have been to surprised when you noticed he still had some pain in his body, and then paid for him to go to a message therapist to help with it.

Soap fell hard and fast when he had asked you to sign some merchandise for his sister. He knew his sisters were big fans of you, and wanted to get them a gift. You gladly signed what he had given you, but it surprised him when you then insisted that he hand his phone over so that you can call them personally. You then proceed to talk to them for about 20 min. each, just talking about everything with them.

It was a day after that when you told Soap that you had paid for his sisters to come to the next concert. You had also paid for plane tickets, and hotel stay for them so all they needed to do was enjoy themselves. What really did it though was you also making sure he had the days off when they were here so that he had time to spend with his family.

[angelbaby-fics]

Daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in a very young headspace and took a nap but when she woke up she was all alone in the bed and want to be with her daddies and Peter so she try to crawl off the bed but fell and hurt herself and daddy rushed in the room seeing little one crying and after he ask why she crawl off the bed she's like "I wan be wif daddies n pweti"

MUCH COMFORT PLEASE 🥺💞

Comfort

Word Count: 800

A/N: Ahh what a precious idea!! I really really love the big brother Peter dynamic hehe 💕 also this fic is so me bc every time I wake up my first thoughts before I get my bearings are usually "wheres dadaaaa" 💕 enjoy!

It was typical for you to regress even smaller during the course of your afternoon nap, usually leading to a wonderfully cozy evening. After a day of playing, Bucky would put you down in your crib with the lights dimmed to replenish your energy while Steve cooked the family meal. Peter was always a bit older than you, so his afternoon nap was optional. Today he opted to help out Daddy in the kitchen while you slept.

Bucky returned from your nursery to see his two best boys working hard in the kitchen. Peter was dutifully stirring a big bowl of ingredients while Steve carefully cut vegetables and dropped them into the mix. Bucky made absolutely sure they didn’t need any extra help before he retreated to the living room to put on a record. Soft jazz music filled the house, and Bucky picked a book to pass the time before supper was ready. Settling into a soft armchair, one where the kitchen was still within view, he started to lose himself in the peaceful moment, the ambiance only interrupted with the turning of each page.

Until he heard the thud.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep. You weren’t sure what was dream and what was real. You were stuck in a prison cell, your family on the other side. You reached out for them, desperate arms restrained by the bars. When you opened your eyes, the bars were real. 

You caught your breath slowly as you took in your surroundings. It was just a dream. You told yourself that over and over again like a meditation, but it didn’t make it any more believable to your babified brain. You had to see for yourself that your family was still there. You needed to feel your Baba’s strong arms hold you against his chest, to hear Daddy’s soft voice humming a lullaby as he played with your hair, to stretch out your hand and immediately have it met with Peter’s, reassuring you that your big sibby was always there. 

But you were so, so tiny. You could hardly balance on two legs, gripping tight to the railing of your crib as you tried to hold yourself up. Falling back onto your hands and knees, you gathered up all your stuffies and piled them all into one corner, forming a makeshift ramp. Scurrying up like a squirrel on a tree trunk, you pulled yourself over the top rail, but you hadn’t planned this far ahead. You fell to the carpeted floor, right on your padded bottom. 

Bucky was pushing through the doorway before you even had time to cry. He picked you up and held you tight against him, softly bouncing you up and down as he patted your back.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He whispered with his rumbly voice. “Shhh…”

You grabbed him tightly, his clutch pulling you back from the verge of tears. You took fistfuls of his soft t-shirt in your hands, the fabric more comforting to you than any blankie. 

“What got you all worked up huh? Bad dream?” Without moving much, you nodded into his chest. You didn’t have the energy to tell him about it, but as usual you didn’t need to. Bucky had a way of reading your little mind. 

“How about we go cuddle out in the living room, okay babydoll?” “‘N daddy ‘n Petie?” You mumbled in your little baby way that your Baba could always understand. 

You could hear their voices as Bucky carried you out of your nursery and into the main foyer. 

“Is that my baby?” Peter asked. 

The excitement evident in his voice at the thought of getting to see his best playmate again. It had only been a little more than an hour that you’d been asleep, but he loved you that much. Your head perked up at that, and your bleary eyes blinked to see Steve carrying Peter out of the kitchen, mirroring you and Bucky as you met at the living room couch. 

“There’s still a few minutes on the timer for dinner.” Steve said. “Does anybody know what we could possibly do to pass the time?” 

“Cuddles please please please!!” Peter cheered, and you clapped in agreement.

“What a great idea! What smart babies we have, don’t we Buck?”

“I think we might have the smartest, cutest babies in the whole wide world!”

Each man sat on the couch with their respective babies in their arms, but as soon as they were seated, you and Peter started crawling all over each of them, lapping up as much love as you could before the oven timer went off. Even when it did, you weren’t too disappointed; you knew once supper was over you’d be right back to cuddling your family again.

[sorceresssundries]

The Wizard who Waited

Summary: It is time to go and face the Elder Brain, and Tav stops by Sorcerous Sundries in the hope of saying farewell to Rolan. Let's all just pretend we don't meet him at the high-hall before the battle.

Pairing: Rolan x gn Tav - SFW

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N - This work is inspired by one of George's cameos. Featuring a monologue written by @gender-in-a-blender. I loved it so much that I wanted to create a short story to wrap it in.

'Wait! Before you go, I have something I need to get off my chest. You are without a doubt the most maddening person I have ever met! You are reckless and foolhardy! You put yourself in harm’s way time and time again, and it’s enough to drive a man to insanity... because… You see, I think about you constantly. Wondering where you are, what you’re doing, whether you’re safe. I think about the brief moments of time we’ve had together and how it’s not been enough. How it will never be enough. I know I can’t convince you to stay here with me, safe in this tower, but when this is all over... I want you to come back to me. Please, will you come back to me? Don't answer me right now. Go save the Gods-damned Gate. And if you want this, if you want us... come back to me. I'll be waiting.' - Written by @gender-in-a-blender

It was time.

Night fell, as surely and steadily as it always had. The last blood-red rays of sunlight sank below the skyline of the quaking city, leaving Tav to wonder if they would ever feel its warmth on their skin again. 

There was no time to dwell on it. Blades sharp and spells readied, Tav and their companions made their way through Baldur’s Gate, the night air thick with promise. Whether that promise was of victory or defeat, there was no way of knowing, but the dread Tav felt was so intense they could choke on it. Candlelight flickered in the windows of the houses they passed, and babies cried, hushed by fretful parents unable to soothe them from the now-regular tremors rumbling through the city like shockwaves.

It would all end soon.

In front of Tav stood Sorcerous Sundries, light filtering out from the stained glass of the magnificent domed roof, scattering ripples of blue and orange through the surrounding streets.

Perhaps Rolan was there...

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Tav said to their steel-faced companions. “Let me see if I can get any last-minute supplies…”

They exchanged a knowing glance as Tav headed off.

“Darling, a giant brain is about to split the city apart, is now really the time for this?” Astarion called as Tav made their way over to the wizarding shop. Tav ignored him, as they often did.

“Leave it, Istik. A warrior should be granted a final goodbye to the source of their joy before a battle.” Lae’zel’s usually sharp voice was solemn.

The source of their joy. Was it so obvious?

It was late, and the shop was empty. Only a few enchanted sets of armor clunked around, guarding the precious wares and tomes. Despite its emptiness, the air was ripe with magic, sweet and delicate, like spun sugar and silk. The disappointment of not seeing the new archmage at the front desk busying himself in books was more profound than Tav had thought it would be. He must be in his tower. Perhaps they could leave him a letter, or even a...

“Well, if it isn’t the meddling hero!” Rolan appeared at the top of the stairs. His words were a usual wry quip, but a smile played on his lips, warm and inviting. “What trouble are you in now?” He made his way across to Tav, he looked as beautiful as ever.

Tav saw his gaze rake over their freshly sharpened blade and restless hands. His smile died.

“I…” Tav hesitated, searching for the right words. “We’ve gathered what we need to destroy the Absolute. We’re leaving now.” Tav wanted to say goodbye, but the words didn’t leave their throat.

The truth was, it was more than saying goodbye. Tav had stopped by to commit his face to memory. To count and remember each freckle and burn them so deeply into them that not even death could wipe them away. They were a constellation Tav wanted to map out and carry with them, wherever they went. They wanted to hear his voice one last time, so it would be fresh and colourful in their mind as the world quieted into darkness around them.

They wanted to tell him they loved him, but couldn’t bring themselves to say it.

It wasn’t fair to offer that now, freshly uncovered and full of potential with nowhere to spread out it’s wings. It is a precious thing, deserving more than to be grasped for a fleeting moment only to be let go.

‘I love you’ was a beginning to something that Tav couldn’t offer. 

“Right.” Rolan looked up through the stained dome of the ceiling, up to the stars, and squared his shoulders. “Let me leave a note for Cal and Lia. I’ll grab a few things and then…”

“No!” Tav grabbed hold of his arm in a panic before he could move away. “I need you to stay here.” His face slips further into his familiar frown.

“I can assure you I am perfectly capable of helping, despite what I may have demonstrated so far.”

“I know,” Tav said as calmly as they could, trying to keep the frayed edges of their nerves from knotting into their voice. They couldn’t let him know how frightened they were; it wouldn’t be fair.

“I need you to prepare the artillery. We’ll need it when the time comes.” Tav could see he was torn, clever thoughts dancing just behind his eyes, restless and painful. “Besides, the city will be in trouble and the tower will be the safest place for people looking for shelter. The safest place for Cal and Lia. For you. Please, Rolan. I’ll send a signal for when to fire.”

“Get someone else to send the damned signal! Stay here, if it’s so safe.”

“I can’t.”

“Let the others handle it!”

“Rolan.”

“Why must it be you?! Don’t be so foolish!”

“Rolan…”

“Surely there is someone else out there willing to die for this fucking city.” The air fizzled with his anger. Tav took a deep breath, steadying themselves. 

“Am I allowed to say something now?”

“Not if that something is ‘goodbye’” His voice cracked against that final word.

The world had not been kind to Rolan. Tav couldn’t bear to think about the countless goodbyes he must have endured throughout his life. To Elturel, his family, his friends, and now, to them. The scars of these losses ran deep, each one carving away a piece of his heart. Another challenge was about to come his way, and Tav prayed his would be the last scar Rolan would ever have to bear. He deserved a life of joy with the ones he loved, free to settle into the peace he had fought for. 

The thought of not being there to witness it almost caused Tav to crumble. They could picture it so clearly - Rolan laughing with his siblings, standing in the moonlight at the top of his tower, gazing down at the home he had finally found. It was a vision Tav yearned to be part of, but one they knew they might never see.

They had to leave now, or they would lose the strength to go at all.

“I know what needs to be done, and I have what is needed to do it.” Tav eyes shimmer. “It has to be me.”

They took a step towards him, a hand held out, but Rolan stopped them before they could get close.

“Don’t you dare hug me! I do not want our only embrace to have been as you wave me off on your way to war, leaving me behind like some weepy, heart-wrecked widow.”

A fresh ache stretched out in Tav's chest. Would he really let them leave without at least a hug goodbye? They hadn’t realised how much they had been relying on it.

“The world could end if I don’t go.” Tav said simply.

“Let it” Rolan replied.

The air between them was thick with unspoken words; the soldier who came to say goodbye and the wizard who would not let them. Another rumble shook the walls, and books tumbled from their shelves, scattering like fallen bodies across the floor, spines cracked and splayed open.

“We’re running out of time,” Tav said softly, unsure if they were referring to the world or the two of them. In this moment, it might as well be the same thing.

Rolan sighed deeply, holding his head in his hands for a few moments, his tail swaying in agitation. Tav wanted to go to him, to feel his arms wrap around them and lose themselves in the few quiet moments they had left, for their own sake as well as his.

His reaction was different from what Tav expected.

“You are without a doubt the most maddening person I have ever met!” Rolan suddenly burst out. Tav didn’t know how to respond; they hadn’t been expecting a scolding. Rolan took a step forward, coming within reaching distance. His eyes blazed and his chest heaved with angry breaths.

“You are reckless and foolhardy! You put yourself in harm’s way time and time again, and it’s enough to drive a man to insanity... because…” The bluster suddenly lessened, and the hurt and worry spilled through the cracks in his voice. “You see, I think about you constantly. Wondering where you are, what you’re doing, whether you’re safe. I think about the brief moments of time we’ve had together and how it’s not been enough. How it will never be enough. I know I can’t convince you to stay here with me, safe in this tower, but when this is all over... I want you to come back to me. Please, will you come back to me?”

He sounded gentle and afraid, and Tav wanted to say, “Of course I will. Of course, you stubborn, uptight, short-tempered, wonderful man.” But that was not an oath they could bring themselves to swear. Tav couldn’t bear the thought of dying with the pain of a breaking a  promise to the man they loved.

“Don’t answer me right now,” he sighed into the hesitant silence. “Wait there.”

He began to move through the chaos of the shop, rifling through drawers, shifting clinking bottles in cabinets, and pulling down various concoctions to gather in his arms. Murmuring in Infernal as he read labels and blew off dust, he eventually brought his collection back over to Tav.

Placing them on the counter, he started to sort through them.

“Thank you, but I really don't need…”

“Shut up and take them. This one is peerless focus. Give it to Gale; it will help him maintain his concentration. Gods know that fool will need it. This one is Bloodlust, fitting for your vampire friend. There are a few oils for blades and arrows which will increase their effectiveness. Giant Strength for Karlach and Lae’zel. And this one is for you.”

He set down a small vial that glistened with a honey-like substance, viscous and molten, the same color as his eyes.

“Guileful Movement,” he declared, his fierce gaze meeting Tav’s.

“You are strong, but you lack speed, and you get so caught up in watching out for everyone else that you leave yourself vulnerable.”

Placing the vial in Tav’s palm, he wrapped his hands around theirs, the warmth and softness comforting.

“Drink it before you fight. Move fast. Focus on your own strikes, and for the love of gods, run if you need to. You never seemed to do enough running.”

Tav smiled at him. “I never needed to.”

“Yes, yes, you were very tough and brave and beautiful, but trust me, there was no shame in running.” He kissed Tav’s hand, still cradled between both of his. “Run back to me.”

There was a sudden gentleness to his voice that Tav hadn’t properly heard before. They wanted to spend entire afternoons, whole summers, a lifetime sinking into the softness of that voice. They only had a few minutes at most.

Tav smiled, for the first time since coming into the store. Rolan wanted them to come back to him, he believed he would see them again. Perhaps things weren’t so bleak after all. A warm drop of hope fell upon Tav’s poor, burnt-out heart and it was enough to let something settle and take root. 

“Look at how far you’ve come.” Tav cradled his cheek with their palm. “From the chains of hell to the top of the tower. You, Cal, and Lia, all safe and together, as you should be.”

“I should be keeping you safe.” His voice was small and quiet as he fixed his eyes to the floor. 

“Always the protector.” Tav said, and they tilted his chin so his gentle eyes meet theirs. “You are. Keep me safe a little longer, wait for me, and i’ll come back to you.”

They kissed then, for the first time. 

When Tav had imagined their first kiss with Rolan, they had expected softness, uncertainty, maybe a little clumsiness—but there was none of that here. There was no time to be uncertain. His hands gripped the front of Tav’s robes like they were a lifeline, and his lips caressed theirs as though the taste of them could save him. Tav held onto him just as desperately in return, wishing it was enough to anchor them there.

Tav craved the luxury of an unhurried, tentative kiss. Perhaps during a leisurely stroll through the park, or after a little wine-soaked bravery from an evening spent together in the Elf-song Tavern. A slow kiss under a clear sky, savouring the joy of knowing it didn’t have to be perfect - it just had to be the first of many.

Tav thought of this now as his mouth moved against theirs, feeling the cool dampness of his tears mingling with their own. The kiss softened, their breaths steadied.

It was time to say goodbye.

Tav reluctantly pulled back, their forehead resting against Rolan's. 

"That was not a last kiss," Rolan said, his voice a hushed murmur. "That was a first."

Tav nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in their throat. They didn't trust themselves to speak, afraid that any words would break the fragile dam keeping them together.

Rolan's hands lingered on Tav's cheeks for a moment before he let them fall to his sides. "Go save the Gods-damned Gate," he said, his voice steadier now, "And if you want this, if you want us... come back to me. I'll be waiting."

It was done.

Tav left more hopeful than when they arrived, their soul bright and burning and loved. 

They had a battle to win, and a new future to fight for.

______________________________________________________________

Hours had now passed, and Rolan stood at the top of his tower, a solitary silhouette against the flames and cries that echoed through the city. He gripped the ledge with white-knuckled intensity, his red skin stark against the pale stone, keeping himself steady.

The cannon had been fired, its aim fierce and true, and Rolan knew he had done all he could. Below him, Baldur’s Gate burned. Nautiloids filled the night sky, their fiery payloads raining down destruction, and the air was so choked with smoke that Rolan thought even the gaze of the Gods could not pierce it. There would be no help from them now. Debris and explosions collided with the tower's defenses, dissipating into dust and smoke against invisible barriers. Cal and Lia were on the lowest level, rallying the survivors, providing aid and shelter amidst the devastation.

His eyes, accustomed to fire and loss, remained fixed on the High Hall and the looming Elder Brain above it. The city was a grim echo of a past he did not want to think about. How many war-torn, flame-licked cities would he have to watch be assaulted? 

He could not think of Elturel now; that was the past, and he had a future to hope for. 

The temptation to reach for a bottle, to drown his helplessness in wine as he had done at the Last Light Inn, tugged at him. But he resisted. He was not that man anymore; Tav had made sure of that. He would not succumb to ineffectuality. He was more than he was then. For Tav’s sake, for his own sake, he would wait here, steadfast and vigilant. He would watch out for the person he loved, for as long as it took.

Through the smoke and clouds, atop the brain, strobes of magic flickered. He tried to discern the signs of each spell, to picture the battle. The light was dim and soft through the smoke, like lightning blanketed by storm clouds. The flashes of battle-slung spells bloomed through the dark. Sounds of cracks and hisses followed the scattered lights, shots of reds and greens and pulsing golds.

Rolan’s heart pounded with each flare, each distant explosion. He imagined Tav amidst the fray, their blade slashing through the chaos, their determination as fierce as ever. He whispered a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening, hoping that Tav’s courage and skill would see them through this nightmare.

The minutes stretched into an eternity. Every second felt like a lifetime, the wait unbearable. But Rolan watched and he waited, the fate of Baldur’s Gate - and his heart - hanging in the balance.

And then, the elder brain fell. 

Time fractured into shards as the creature tumbled from the sky like a marionette with severed strings. It convulsed and spasmed, desperate waves of psychic shockwaves firing from it erratically. The dangling spinal column lashed and whipped into the city's buildings as it descended, ensuring a final barrage of destruction. With a resounding crash, it plunged into the waters of the Chionthar, its reign of terror culminating in a colossal, explosive orb of energy. The shockwave erupted outward, smashing through the city, shattering glass and hurling Rolan backward, knocking him against the wall of his tower and into unconsciousness. His last thought as he slipped away being of Tav’s fate, and the certainty that he would not see them again. 

He was wrong.

When Rolan awoke, roused by Lia and dragged down to help the wounded, he felt broken. It hurt to breathe, to think. He just wanted to get out into the city, where the light of a new day spilled over the wreckage of the night before. He wanted to find Tav, whatever that meant. 

The hero of Baldur’s Gate stood, leaning against the doorway to the tower, clutching their side. Bloodstained and bruised, their armor and weapon abandoned, they now wore only a sweat-soaked shirt and trousers, looking less like a mighty hero and more like a lost refugee. The second they saw Rolan amid the survivors and chaos, joy filled their chest and pulled a laugh from between cracked ribs.

It was over. They had won. And even though their legs were tired, their muscles burned, and their heart ached from saying goodbye to forged family, they had come back.

The taste of the golden, honey-thick potion Rolan had pressed into their palm still lingered sweetly on their tongue.

They had run back to him.

Rolan's eyes widened when he spotted Tav. He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the protests of those around him. In moments, he was in front of them, his hands hovering uncertainly before he finally pulled them into a tight embrace. The feel of his arms around them was everything Tav had fought for. 

“You idiot! I thought you were dead.” He admonished.

“Careful.” Said Tav, wincing from the enthusiasm of his hug. “Don’t be greedy.”

There would be time now, in the settling dust, for peace to be found, clutched, and cherished. 

For the two heroes who had given each other hope when it had all but been extinguished. 

For the soldier who came to say goodbye, and the wizard who did not let them.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Guys I’m thinking about Rick and Daryl fighting, like Daryl is definitely a professional little brother and spends all day wrecking havoc upon Rick (and maybe a few others)

also I know Daryl is a hardcore hair puller. In the bed and in fights. When he and Merle would fight, it was like a second nature for his hands to latch onto to curly hair, yanking the strands and on one occasion knocking his head into a wall

me when rickyl but also brotherhood

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

On the outside, Daryl Dixon was quiet, dark, and mysterious. He was a dusty book that had been closed and locked tight for decades, never opening up no matter who or what tried to pry. Most people would think that he was just one of the ones that never expressed any type of concern or emotion, but really, Daryl’s just a silent person. Until someone he knows pops into the picture.

“Get tha’ fuck off me! Get tha’ fuck off of me!” His voice rang out through the community alongside side Dogs chaotic barking.

People rushed out of their homes at what they thought were very distressed cries, Carol’s bow loaded and almost aimmed as he stepped out onto hers, only frowning deeply when she saw what all the ruckus was.

Daryl and Rick were wrestling in the dirt, the huntersman pinned down underneath the officer in a very uncomfortable looking position. Dog was barking at the two of them, tail wagging in the air as he stood in a playful position, standing over his defeated owner.

“Blah blah blah. You’re just a sore fucking loser” Rick laughed at him, pointing a finger in Daryl’s face, and pulling it away when his sharp teeth clamped down. “Gon’ make mah dog eat you alive” The man grumbled and squirmed.

“Gonna make the walkers eat you both alive” You sighed from where you had approached behind Rick, Dog now eagerly lapping and jumping around you as you too stood over your defeated hunter. “Seriously?” You shook your head and pushed Rick off the man, watching the way he dramatically fell over. “He started it! I was bein’ nice” Daryl frowns, and so does Rick, sitting up to face Daryl who had childishly wrapped himself around your leg. “Nuh uh, no! This asshole tried sticking mud down my pants!” Daryl cackled at the sentence and you knew he was gulity.

“You two are grown ass men” You huffed, shaking your leg slightly only for Daryl’s to tighten his grip. Absolutely wonderful.

“He needs to be put in time out” Rick grumbled, and you wondered if you were getting paid for this. “Time out?”

“Time out?” Carol approached, bow and arrow no longer in hand.

Daryl pointed at Rick, while Rick pointed at him, both men staring daggers at each other. “Him! He fucking started this!”

You share a look with Carol as the men bicker, and it’s quite funny untill you feel a sudden emptiness at your leg, and Daryl is hurling a ball of mud at Rick, who unfortunately catches it with his face. “Now I can really call ya ‘shitface grimes’” Daryl laughed as he climbed to his feet, standing behind you as Rick wiped his eyes clear, immediately locking them on his target.

Daryl doesn’t wanna admit that he didn’t think Rick would just go right around you, yelling when the officer took a swipe at him. “Stop it yew shit eater!” Daryl ran away with Rick hot on his heels, Dog sprinting right alongside them and barking excitedly.

“Can you imagine a small mini version of all that?” You shake your head, smiling softly at Carol. “You have got quite the character on your hands. Clinging to your leg? He must love you” You laughed, peering up the street where they had run off too, a cloud of dirt forming as they tussled, and from Daryl’s very loud screams he was probably getting what he deserved. “Dealing with him? He better love me” You scoff, knowing that your giant manchild loves you more than life itself.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Each press of the cotton to his skin makes him hiss, and he winces at the burning sting of alcohol. “No more fights” You frown softly, tilting Daryl’s head as you cleaned his wounds, gingerly placing bandaids over them. “But he-“ “Yes I know he started it, he also finished it” Daryl pouts, legs swinging off the countertop. You stick a bandage over his nose, and kiss his forehead. “All better. I want you in this house before it’s too dark, okay?” Daryl drops onto his feet, and plants a quick but eager kiss on your lips. “Yes mama” He tosses over his shoulder as he snatches his crossbow off the floor, barreling out the door with Dog. You watched them go, a smile tugging your lips. It faded at the sound of a Rick’s high pitched scream.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

looks around because I dont know what happened and because I really like childish Daryl now and wanna write more