#did someone say early morning yearning?

[astraystayyh]

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

[bunnys-kisses]

the group chat (charles' version)

charles leclerc

cw: smut/pwp, filming, sub!charles, collars, oral sex (cunnilingus), pussy drunk!charles,

want a different driver? here's the full selection!

it was the morning after the 2024 monaco grand prix, while most were up early to get ready to catch flights. no one expected to hear from the winner of the race, charles leclerc.

around nine in the morning a notification popped up from the group chat. most ignored it, thinking it was someone bitching about something while on an overpriced private jet. but for the curious few who opened the file, they were greeted to something else.

you held the camera, while you were laid out on the expensive hotel bed. you made a soft moaning noise when charles used your thighs to gain leverage to move in between your legs.

he rested his head on your abdomen, he looked freshly showered but there was a little glimmer of gold in the frame. when he moved himself up, the camera caught the red leather of a collar around the grand prix winner's throat.

"you look so good, charles." you reached out for him and he rested against your palm for a moment.

his tongue darted out to lick his lips, he looked visibly calm like he had done this a million times. his hands were spread across your thighs.

"thank you, ma'am." he replied. oh, well, that was revelation about the ferrari driver.

"why did you want me to film this again? you're not a sick little freak, are you? you're a good boy for me?"

he scratched his neck nervously and beamed at your praise, "i thought it would be a little something for the others." while most would've filmed their partner performing acts on them, charles wanted to see the magic he could pull.

he was, after all, a good boy.

you pinched his cheek playfully and he chuckled, "anything you'd like to say to the boys who are watching this video?"

there was a gleam in his eyes as he said, "i'm going to show you how to really pleasure a woman. and i'm talking particularly to you, max." then smiled with all of his teeth before he kissed your inner thigh.

you moaned at the tenderness, it shot heat through you body. charles was considerate like that, he honestly preferred to make you finish over him. you kept the camera steady on him as he got your legs over his shoulders.

he looked up at the camera for a moment and gave a smirk to it before he closed his eyes and trailed his tongue across your cunt. you were already soaked, before you started recording he had spent about fifteen minutes slowly pumping his fingers in and out of your sex.

you felt your breath hitch as you felt the heat curl in your body. you did your best to keep the camera trained on charles as he continued to lap at your sex like a hungry dog. there was nothing else on his mind, he wanted to make sure his girlfriend got all the pleasure she needed.

he pushed his hair back for a moment and panted, you could see the sweat on his neck and forehead. it was getting heated in the room, the intimacy between you two was like being near a campfire, the heat traveled through your bodies.

"you're such a good boy, charles. you did so good for me." you praised as you combed your fingers through his hair.

he seemed visibly relaxed, like this was the kind of headspace he wanted to be in. he yearned for your praise, it lit a fit in his stomach and made his bare cock twitch against the bed spread.

that'll be dealt with after the video ended.

for now he was to be between your legs, lapping at your poor pussy with such vigor that it made your heart beat in your ears. you softly moaned and panted, you felt hot to the touch.

he pulled his mouth away, his pupils were larger and his cheeks were pink. his chin glistened with your wetness in the low light of the hotel room. he looked already like the pleasure had overridden his brain.

you knew his cock was aching by this point. he rubbed your clit with his thumb and panted. between pants he said, "i love being your good boy." he swallowed, "no higher honor." then gave a pleased smile.

you reached for him and combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the wet strands between your digits, "you just want to show the others how messy you can get, huh? show them how good you are for me?"

he nodded before he kissed your pussy before he went back to orally pleasuring you. he felt a shiver through his body was he pressed your thighs against his head and groaned against your pussy.

praise came off your tongue easily. there was something about seeing such a high profile man be so dedicated to getting you off. sex was like another sport, with another prize. and he was dedicated to coming in first. his noises were loud and sloppy, his devoured your cunt like a man with a single minded purpose.

you gripped onto his hair and the phone as he continued his motions across your clit. the heat in his cheeks only rose the more he became obsessed with your pussy. he was almost drunk on you, his head swam.

heavy breathing filled the air and your shifted a little bit. this caused him to plant both hands on your hips to keep you down. he pulled his mouth away once more and swallowed, he looked at you and said, "i can't let you do that, madame."

he leaned in and his tongue was heavy once more on your pussy. he was slobbering like a dog as he took his fill of your sweet cunt. it was hard for you to keep you composure as you felt the heat radiate through your body.

you continued to film him as you felt closer to your orgasm. it thrummed through your body as you laid under him. he was happily lapping at your pussy, maybe the collar was a good choice for a hound like him. he kept his hands splayed out on your thighs and he really worked your pussy.

"charles."

he looked up at him and you could see the gleam of your wetness on the tip of his nose. he panted against your clit, his hot breath against your wet pussy. it made you groan and him chuckle.

he loved the sight of you, the taste of you. it instilled a feeling of pride in his chest. he was a good boy.

you held onto him tightly as he pushed you past your peak. over the sound of his mouth against your clit was the sound of your loud moan as you climaxed.

"shit, charles." you panted wildly as you curled your toes and tensed up. you soon relaxed, the phone almost tumbling out of your hand. you groaned, "holy shit, charles."

"of course, mon amour." he pulled away and swallowed, he looked like he was out of his mind at that moment. he wiped his mouth with the back of his mouth and gave a sloppy grin, "th..that felt good." he rubbed his painfully erect cock onto the bed.

you patted his cheek lovingly, his collar gleamed in the light, "now why don't i send this video and we can work on you next."

charles basked in your affection as he said, "oui, madame."

the video ended, and charles send the video after you rode his cock. after he sent the file he attached an additional message that said, "jealous?"

[anni1309-blog]

please more step brother smut with felix. it was amazing !:)

that’s so kind of you to say, thank you <3

here you go 🎀

felix catton! stepbrother x reader

warnings: smut, face-fucking, slight size kink, semi public

summary : felix is stressed out during exam season and needs relief

felix and you were like royalty at oxford. it’s not like felix’s family lineage isn’t royal anyways. they were always surrounded by a small crowd. some might even call them admirers. it wasn’t hard to love them, always kind and friendly, charming everyone with their beautiful looks.

when someone was looking for felix, you weren’t far either. this was felix’s way to protect and show his love for you. you two weren’t siblings by blood, but that didn’t stop felix from taking care of his baby sister.

sometimes gossip was heard about your close proximity to felix. you would admit that your relationship is definitely closer than most normal stepsiblings might be but your love fell so deep for each other you wouldn’t have it any other way.

lately though, felix grew a little more distant. you knew that the exams were getting to him, he was always so determined. you would only see him when at night he would sneak you into his dorm, pulling a blanket over you while holding you close and softly stroking your hair while you would cling onto him placing your head on his chest. you missed him, more than you would admit. his heart broke knowing he had less time for you, he yearned for your touch, your giggle and your adorable smile when you sat in his lap during break. but he couldn’t have any distractions from studying.

when you woke up the bed was empty. this was your breaking point. felix would normally wake you up to give you a little kiss goodbye or at least leave a note. there was none of this today. you bursted out in tears and started sobbing uncontrollably. when you calmed down a bit, you got ready to face felix to pour out your heart. putting on makeup was no use to your red and puffy eyes from crying.

you made your way to the library, which was almost empty since it was still very early in the morning. you found felix sitting in the back, surrounded by books writing down notes.

he looked up “good morning baby, did you have a good-“ he stopped, his initial reaction was that he was happy to see you but his eyebrows furrowed when he saw your distressed expression. he knew he had to make time for you now, so he wordlessly scooted his chair back and opened his arms for you to sit on his lap. you took a seat there and clung to him tightly, which he returned.

“lix, you were gone this morning, and I was all alone, I don’t even see you that often anymore, I- I just miss you so much” you sniff slightly as big tears fall from your eyes.

“shhhh, I know sweetheart, I hate it too, but you know how it is, I’m just very stressed right now” he pulls you close rubbing you back softly cooing quietly for you to calm down a bit, takes your face in his hands as he wipes away your tears with his thumb. he hates seeing his girl like this, it upset him deeply.

felix took your chin between his fingers to tilt you head upwards to slowly capture your lips. this wasn’t new to you two, he kissed you often, also in public, he knew it made you feel safe.

“lix? would it be okay for me to try something to relieve your stress a bit?” your big eyes looked up at him with a small smile as you relaxed a bit.

“sure princess, I’d love that but what do you want t-“ his words got stuck in his throat when you slowly dropped to your knees, already trying to fumble at his belt, opening it.

felix was almost shocked at your plan but obviously wasn’t appalled by your idea. none of you cared that you were in public, people wouldn’t come by until later in the day. your nimble fingers pulled the zipper of his pants down slowly, your lips parting and mouth salivating in anticipation.

he caressed your cheek with his thumb looking down at you with soft but hungry eyes, signaling that you could do whatever you felt comfortable with. as you continue undressing his pants his fingers were back at your face, his thumb brushing over your wet bottom lip and pushed his digit past your lips and into your mouth, and you sucked greedily.

you slowly pulled his already hardening cock from his underwear, giving his tip soft kitten licks to which he threw back his head in pleasure, brushing your hair, slightly buckling his hips towards your mouth

“you can use my mouth lix, I can handle it, I promise” lapping at his slit and batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, doll” he groans at your invitation and didn't waste a second to shove his cock into your mouth, pushing your head down his impressive length.

gurgling and gagging you looked up at him for reassurance that your were doing fine, he slowly started moving his hips, fucking your mouth.

“such a good doll, doing so good f’me” he praised in a deep voice. your doe eyes just looked at him, tears escaping them as he kept diving himself into you thrusting in and out of your mouth quickly and desperately as you moaned around him.

he shifted his hips forward so you could take him further down your throat “such a tiny mouth, taking all of me hm?” he grinned proudly his other hand cupping your jaw and holding your mouth open for him as you choked around him, saliva escaping your mouth.

“you can take it, hm? my good little angel” he grunts looking down at your face tears just streaming down your face now. you hummed happily, the vibrations sending a shock through him that made him twitch and ram his hips forward into your mouth harshly.

“gonna come in your mouth okay doll? you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow it all right?” taking out his dick for you to answer and traced your glossy lips with his tip, your tongue darted out to flick over it and relish in his salty taste as you looked up giving him affirmative nods.

his thrusts became more frantic, feeling close, he lets out a long, gutteral moan, holding your head there as he thrust his hips up feeling your nose press against his pelvis, cumming down your throat.

“I know it’s a lot, be strong,” he groaned as he continued to spout cum, it was so much you thought you might bloat but swallowed all as he pulled off, you were coughing at bit.

you looked wrecked but smiled up at him proudly as he leaned down to kiss your lips softly taking your face in his big hands to admire you.

“what would I do without my favorite girl?”

[petertingle-yipyip]

ALWAYS BEEN YOU - KAZ BREKKER

//follow-up to this (for context, really) but can be standalone// also @darker0moon221b asked for this//

Pairing: kaz brekker x reader

Word Count: 3,146

Summary: On the heels of a rough night and unbelievable confessions, Y/N still has to make sure Kaz is alright. What comes after is… shocking.

“I loved you first.”

“What?” Your head snapped up and your hands around the kit tightened till your knuckles were white. “You don’t mean that.” You laughed nervously.

Kaz didn’t waiver in his eye contact, dark eyes boring into yours. You shifted slightly under his gaze but he didn’t speak. Even when you rose to your feet, he didn’t look away, didn’t say a word. He just watched you intently, like if he looked away you would vanish.

Those four seemingly simple words bounced around your skull. You tried to imagine what his expression was when he said them, but you couldn’t. There was no way for you to know what he was thinking. That cursed unreadable expression crossed his features and you would’ve given anything for any of his other looks. That near smile that only you seemed to get or even his widely recognized scheming face.

“I loved you first.”

You had imagined it, right? He gave you nothing to think otherwise. Yes, that’s all it was. A tired brain mixing with a yearning heart to play on your own foolish infatuation. Kaz Brekker was many horrible things and few wonderful. But he was not someone who confessed love. Maybe he didn’t know love. Maybe he didn’t want to. Either way, it wasn’t about you. That much you could convince yourself.

“Okay.” You said finally. You had no idea how much time had passed while your thoughts ran rampant. “Well, make sure you eat and drink something to help with the blood loss. I’d say something with some sugar. Oh! Nina was by earlier, brought some new pie. You might like it.”

“Y/N?” He tried but you pretended not to hear him.

“I’ll come check on it in the morning, if that’s alright. Make sure no infection has set in and you still have your wits.”

“That’s all?”

“Is there anything else?” You cringed slightly at the desperation in your voice.

“You tell me.”

You swallowed the thoughts that threatened to embarrass you further and simply nodded, lips pressed tightly to a line. You moved to grab your fallen book but once your eyes went down, Kaz seemed to know your intention. Of course he did. You immediately stopped when you saw his movements, the stretch of his long yet muscle bound bare limbs.

You also realized he was still shirtless.

You turned on your heel instead and briskly walked out the room. You made sure the door was firmly shut behind you and then you practically ran to your own room. You all but slammed the door and dropped your kit to your desk. You yanked off the remaining glove and pushed your hands into your hair. You let out an uneven breath and tried once more to piece together the night.

You were reading in Kaz’s office. He came in, covered in blood. You cleaned him up and he smiled at you. He said he loved you.

You laughed slightly and then put a hand to your mouth.

“Oh Saints, I’ve gone mad.” You said to yourself. You shook your head and decided to sleep it off.

But your dreams were simply replays of that damn smile.

The next morning, you dragged your feet to get ready. You brushed your hair and teeth, then washed your face leisurely. You knew Kaz was likely already waiting for your promised arrival and he’d have some comment locked and loaded, just itching for an opportunity, but that only made you want to avoid it more. But the deal was the deal.

You tucked a pair of gloves into your pocket and cut a new bandage wrap from your fabric pile before you headed to see him. You greeted the few Dregs that were up at the early hour before you hesitated outside his office.

You tugged on the collar of your shirt, just so you didn’t pat your pocket, and shifted on your feet. You hated the fact that you were dreading something you were good at, simply because you had gotten something you had only dreamed of. And for what? Because you couldn’t believe it? Because you decided to want something so simple from the one person it always seemed so improbable from?

Then again, improbability wasn’t impossibility.

“Why are we staring?” Jesper whispered loudly and you jumped. “It’s just a door.”

“Ha ha.” You said sarcastically and jammed your elbow into his ribs. “And it’s not that I’m staring. I’m stalling, it’s different.”

“Okay… Why are you stalling? Meeting with the boss you don’t wanna deal with?”

“Of a sort.” You nodded. “Do you think…”

“Wylan would say no but I beg to differ.” He shrugged and glanced over with a wide grin. “What’s on your mind?”

You nodded towards Kaz’s door.

“What’d he do this time?” Jesper sighed and his smile fell.

“When he’s come back after having the ever-loving shit kicked out of him, have you ever heard him say anything strange?” You tried to keep it vague. Telling Jesper was just as bad as screaming it across the Barrel. You loved your friend but he was a gossip.

He gasped dramatically, thus confirming your hesitation. “Is there news?”

“Maybe… I’m hopeful, don’t get me wrong, but I also can’t convince myself it happened.”

“Well, what was it?”

“So you can tell all of Ketterdam and get us both in trouble?” You laughed. “No way.”

“Oh, come on!” He tried.

You shook your head with a smile and knocked on the office door. After a second, you could hear the tapping of his cane coming closer. You looked back at Jesper, who was still staring with wide, pleading puppy-dog eyes. The door cracked open so you shot your friend a wink and ducked inside.

“You took your time.” Kaz complained once you shut the door.

“Good morning to you too.” You rolled your eyes, both glad and disappointed to be back to your usual banter. You turned and found him sitting in your chair, cane resting against the arm while he rubbed out his bad leg. “How do you feel?”

He shrugged. You could’ve been mistaken, but he seemed more irritated than usual.

You made a face to yourself and crossed the room. You stopped a few inches from him, not even letting your shoes touch, and leaned in quietly. His eyes went wide for a moment and it almost seemed like he had a forward lean of his own. Your eyes were on the cut of his forehead, checking the length of it once then twice then a third time just for the hell of it.

But even with your focus on the injury, you could see the movement of his own eyes. Darting between yours, following the shape of your jaw, your lips, trailing down your neck.

“That one looks good.” You leaned away and nodded. “You didn't feel any sort of dizziness or sickness after I left?”

He seemed to lose himself in his thoughts before he answered you. You knelt in front of him, nudging his knees apart. The jostle seemed to bring him back to the moment, which caused a new flash of surprise. You wondered for a second if it meant something in your favor or if he was feeling some sort of after effect from the fight.

“Kaz?” You tried waving a hand in front of his face. “Is something wrong?”

He reached out and took your hand in his. You said nothing, but your expression betrayed you. Kaz let out a small chuckle and let himself smile again, smaller than the one that threw you last night but still genuine. Your eyes were wide and soft in awe at the simple contact but coming on the heels of the confessions last night, it had to have some weight.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He said quietly. “Truthfully, Y/N, I worried I had misunderstood you.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed.

“Do you remember what you said last night?”

You winced. “In painful detail, yes.”

He chuckled again and you lost the fight to hide a smile. “I thought about it all night.”

“Really?”

“I wondered if I had misheard you, if I had misread your cues.”

“Hang on.” You cut in, snapping into focus as if you had been hit with cold water. “Cues? I wasn’t giving cues.”

“Really?” He challenged lightly. “Should I list them?”

“Please do, but while you try and embarrass me, unbutton your shirt so I can check your side.”

“Those wide eyes that always find me in a room.” He pointed to your eyes before taking off his gloves to work the buttons. “You ask something specific of me then change it to mean everyone. The way you curl up in this chair and face my desk, pretending to read but you’re looking over your book towards me. Hell, even the way you say my name.”

“That’s… a good list.” You said carefully, admittedly embarrassed. You dropped your eyes and pulled the gloves from your pocket. 

“Do you want to know what really convinced me?”

“Not particularly but I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.” You confessed with a sigh. Once your gloves were fitted to your hands, you leaned an elbow on his knee and looked back at him.

He leaned in as if to tell you a secret, though it was likely just to free some space while he wriggled out of his shirt sleeves. You wanted to lean in and meet him, finally kiss him, but you knew better. Instead, you forced your eyes to stay on his side. You tried not to let your gaze wander across his muscle-bound, scar-riddled torso.

Focus, Y/N.

You shifted to sit up on your knees and reached in. Your rubber covered fingers met his skin carefully and you gently prodded and pulled on the injury.

“Nothing to say anymore?” You asked lightly, hoping to break the now thick tension.

You dared a glance at his face and his eyes were closed, head leaning against the back of the chair. Your movements froze as you simply looked at him. He almost looked content, so much softer when his eyes were closed. It was small moments like that that made you forget he was the Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands Brekker. He was someone to be feared. Men with any sense wouldn’t dare to cross him. Women with any sense swooned and batted their lashes for his attention. Kids with any sense feared their closets because the monsters come from there.

But to you, especially in those fleeting vulnerable instances, he was just Kaz. And that was always enough for you.

You shook the thought and went back to your examination. You ran your fingers over the length of the wound and frowned when you realized one of the stitches were looser than it should’ve been.

“Were you messing with these last night?” You accused quickly.

“What?” He finally spoke. “No.”

“Dammit.” You cursed and pulled your hands away. You dropped to sit on your heels and blew a sigh while you threw the gloves on the floor in annoyance. “It’s not as tight as I’d like it to be. Must’ve been the gloves.”

“Do you need to fix it?”

You looked over at the discarded gloves and frowned. “More practice is what I need.” You muttered before looking back at Kaz. “It should be okay. It’s clean so as long as you keep it covered, it won’t bleed through your clothes or anything… But it’ll scar for sure now.”

He shrugged. “What’s one more?”

“You never told me what tipped you off.” You said, looping back to the prior conversation.

You knew you should’ve left, let the unspoken thing between you two stay unspoken, but you also knew you needed closure. You needed to know with certainty if your pining was obvious. If you needed to pack up and run from your embarrassment. Maybe Inej would let you join her crew next time she came to port.

He held his hand out to you and you went for it, then hesitated. You kept your hand just out of his reach before closing your fingers to create just a bit more space. The idea of putting your hand in his - his bare hand - was something you had only dreamed about. You heard him make a noise of impatience at your hesitation and he leaned forward again to take your hand in his.

“You’re always careful of my space.” He began carefully. It was a list he knew, something he had drafted and gone over a million times in the past few weeks. Or maybe it was months. It could’ve been years for all Kaz could tell. Everything with you seemed to come together in the best and worst ways. “You’re careful of contact.”

“Because I know you don’t like it.” You shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone seem to avoid you for one reason or another?”

“Well, yes, but you do it to be considerate not because you’re afraid.”

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Kaz took a deep breath and his eyes finally met yours. You could see the war raging behind his eyes. The contact of your hand in his must’ve been driving him insane. You could see his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, like he had to consciously force the air in and out of his lungs. His jaw was tense. Hell, his whole body was wound tight as elastic, ready to snap. To shove you away, to scream at you, to start a fight neither of you would hold back in. But he didn’t. He willed himself to maintain the contact, even when you gave the slightest tug to free your hand.

“No.” He finally spoke. “Never you.”

“What are…” You tried, but the question wouldn’t form. What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he letting go? Why was he tormenting himself just to hold your hand?

“When I felt your gloves last night, it all made sense.” He explained and the grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly. “I knew I hadn’t been crazy.”

“I might be.” You said mindlessly and he chuckled.

“We both might be.” He agreed. “But still… You didn’t have to use gloves, but you did, because you wanted to be able to help me. Right?”

“Someone has to.” You tried to sound casual.

“They don’t.” He corrected. “But you want to.”

“Because I care about you, Kaz. You’ve been my friend for years. I’d hate to lose you.”

“Do you love me, Y/N? Truly.”

You swallowed hard, licking your lips to stall. Your free hand twitched and knowing your pockets were empty, you tugged on your shirt to adjust the fabric. Suddenly, the room felt very warm.

“I…” You began slowly. “You’re still holding my hand.”

“Yes.”

“Without your gloves.”

He let out a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

“And that doesn’t make you want to run?”

“It does.” He answered tightly. “But I don’t want to run from you.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You put your other hand on his knee. “Let go, Kaz.”

“No.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because how can I be with the woman I love if I cannot bring myself to touch her?” He answered quickly and your eyes went wide. “If I cannot hold her hand or touch her face, her lips… If I cannot bring myself to hold her, what kind of love is that?”

“If she truly loves you, she’ll bear it.” You offered. 

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” His expression shifted slightly to relief. “Yes, you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

“So I didn’t imagine it last night? You said you loved me first.”

“Truthfully, I was worried I had imagined it all. But I couldn’t stop thinking about those damned gloves and how I wanted to feel your touch without them… Just be honest with me, Y/N. Do you want this?”

“Of course I do.” You said without thinking. “But I can’t ask you to torture yourself just to be with me.”

“You’re always so gentle.” He spoke softly, admiringly even, and it made you blush. “You don’t have to be so with me. I can take it.”

“And you shouldn’t have to.” You managed to wiggle your hand free and you watched his chest rise and fall with a heavy sigh of relief. “I do love you, Kaz, in a way that scares me. But I won’t be the reason you force yourself to do something you can’t.”

You stood and reached for the book you left the night before.

“No one forces me, Y/N.” He stood in front of, one small step to block your reach. “I want to do this for you.”

“Don’t make me move you.”

“You wouldn’t push a cripple without his cane, would you?” He feigned innocence.

“I’m serious, Brekker. Let me get my book so I can go and you can think this through.”

“I’ve spent weeks thinking it through.” He shook his head. “I want to try. For you, yes, but also myself… I want to hold you and kiss you and touch you for myself.”

“If I give in and if I’m with you.” You said firmly, pointing your finger near his face. “We need to be very open about limits. I won’t push and I expect you to stop when you need to.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted sarcastically and you had to refrain from kicking him in the shin. “Anything else?”

“You need to give me your word, Kaz.”

“Don’t trust me?” He raised a brow.

“I trust you with my life you buffoon.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “But I need to know you’ll commit yourself to what I’m asking.”

“Y/N, darling. I give you my word, on any and all Saints you want to invoke, that I will take that time I need so long as you’ll let me.”

“Good.” You nodded. You thought if there was anything else you could or should have him agree to. Your mind was blank so you shoved your hands into your pockets. “I suppose that means we’re together now.”

He grinned and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Finally.” He said and you could tell he was truly happy. “Can I kiss you?”He took a step closer.

You freed a hand and gingerly brushed your fingers along his temple, sneaking into his hair for a second. He gasped but you noticed he didn’t flinch. Feather-light, your touch went along the angle of his jaw and danced down his neck, curved with his shoulder, and skimmed his arm until you reached his hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you felt his other hand under your chin, tilting your head back.

“If you’re sure you can bear it.” You said quietly.

[bad268]

hi!! can i request a clingy paul aron x reader? kinda similar to what you wrote for kimi antonelli. maybe him being extra clingy when he finally gets home after a long day or early mornings? tysm!! i love your works

Hold Me (Paul Aron X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love <3 it's kinda short but i didn't wanna make it too close to Kimi's)

Warnings: none

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 893

Summary: After a bad weekend, Paul wants to be held by you.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Paul never considered himself a clingy person, but even he could admit that his thoughts were borderlining it. He just could not focus all day, and all he wanted was to be as close to you as humanly possible. You had gone home for the weekend for your sibling’s graduation, and you had gotten back to your shared apartment right after he left for the race weekend.

He would say that he just missed you. Not seeing your significant other for just over a week when you’re used to walking up with them every day will make you yearn for them.

He had a long day on the track, and he just wanted to be held by you. With staring on the front row, having to retire from the sprint the day before due to a technical problem, and getting caught up in a midfield drash during the feature race, he was just done. Thankfully, he had booked his flight home for only a few hours after the race. This would give him time to attend the debrief, do some media, and dip out of there. Granted, the debrief was quick because his races were short, and the media was not nearly as extensive as it would have been if he’d finished either race. 

Paul was silent as he left the track. He was silent the entire way back to the hotel, silent as he packed his bags, silent as he rode to the airport, and silent almost the entire flight home. He did not feel like engaging in small talk with people, so he did not speak until spoken to. Plus, he knew that when he landed, he would be one step closer to you. He just had to get through the painstakingly long time it took to get to you. 

Your apartment was not too far from the airport, but he never wanted you to pick him up when he landed at such a late hour. He had worked it out that Ralf would pick him up, but you messaged Ralf separately because you also could not wait for Paul to get in. 

You thought it would be funny to make him a “welcome home” sign to hold up in the airport, so you had been working on it during the day. It had all of his favorite colors and streamers on the bottom. You were sure it would catch his attention.

So there you were, standing in arrivals. You could have looked better, but it was nearly midnight. To be honest, you were planning on just going to sleep as soon as you both got home. You had on one of Paul’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, but it was comfortable. You checked the status of Paul’s plane and moved to get the sign ready when you saw that the plane landed a few minutes ago. You would be seeing him shortly. 

Paul was ready to hurt someone. He was tired from the race, his eyes burned, and his head hurt. All he wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed with you, and not do anything for the foreseeable future. He grabbed his bags and made his way off of the plane. He knew his home airport like the back of his hand, so he was able to walk to arrivals with his eyes almost entirely closed. When he finally made it to arrivals, he briefly scanned the small crowd, looking for his brother, but when his eyes landed on bright colors and streamers, he chuckled to himself.

“Awe, someone’s family must have really missed them,” He thought before looking at the person holding it. 

You saw his gaze on you as he closed his eyes, took a breath, and walked faster toward you. You put the sign on the ground as he set his bags down, and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, hiding his face between your neck and shoulder.

“Hi baby,” You whispered as you hugged him back and ran your fingers through his hair. “I missed you. Did you like the sign?”

“It’s cute,” He said curtly, holding you tighter against himself. You let the silence fall between you as other families reunited and left, but you two stayed still. It was clear to you that he needed this.

“Are you ready to head home?” You asked after everyone else had cleared out. You tried to pull away from Paul, even if you were still within arm's length, but as soon as you moved, he whined. “Baby, how am I supposed to get us home if you won't let me go?”

“Can you just hold me? We can call an Uber or something, but can you please just hold me?” He asked in a quiet, almost timid, tone. It was not one you were used to hearing from him, so you were immediately concerned.

“If this is about the race, don’t even worry about it,” You tried to comfort, “There will be more races. You are not defined by your race results.”

“No it’s not that,” Paul responded as he tried to bury his face as deep into your shoulder as possible. “I just really wanted to see you, and I couldn’t. The race result just made it all worse, but I have you now, and I don't plan on letting you go.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[theelfsongbard]

Lazy Morning with Astarion Drabble

If anyone had told your past self that 5 years from then, they would be safe, settled and contentedly in love, you would have laughed in their face. Having a definitive place of your own to call home was never an option in the cards that you had been dealt, and the only safety you found was in being untethered to roam Faerun freely. And love? What was love other than a means to ensure you had a bed to sleep in or money in your pocket when you were in dire straits?

Yet here you are, huddled in comparative luxury to the bedrolls that you had grown accustomed to. In your own bed, under the wool blankets, arms wrapped around a man who adores you truly and wholeheartedly. Outside, the winter snow blankets the ground in a crisp blue-white and frost has crept it’s way up the window pane. For once, it’s just the two of you, even the city’s noises and clamour have died down with the weather being so inhospitable. It’s a nice change, a breather from the suffocation of always having people around you, whether it was the strangers packed on the busy streets or a well meaning friend, you delighted most of all in the simple joy of the private moments you could spend with Astarion.

Laying a gentle kiss on his shoulder, you slowly relinquish your hold around his middle as to not wake him, slipping out of bed to coax the heat back into the smouldering fireplace and put the kettle on.

It doesn’t take long for the gentle cadence of his footsteps to follow you to the kitchen, his slippers beating against the timber floor of your house like a heartbeat. Before you know it, he’s behind you, his hands slipping around your waist and his head resting on your shoulder. Sniffing, he sighs contentedly as he inhales the scent of blood as you warm it over the stove just enough while you sip on your own drink.

“Good morning, little love.” His voice is low and gravelly with the remnants of his trance.

There’s a fondness in his voice that settles over you, warming you up from the inside out despite the absence of heat. “Morning Astarion,” you tilt your head slightly, pressing your forehead against his to greet him. “Did I wake you?” Your hands work independently, on autopilot as you pour the blood into a goblet.

“I just missed feeling your warmth.” He says simply, nuzzling against you. “But fear not! I’ve brought reinforcements!” Unclasping the tie to the fluffy robe you gifted him, he opens it and wraps you up inside it like an oversized bat, earning him your giggles of delight at his early morning shenanigans. The movement is so sudden, it pushes you against him too quickly and all at once you notice the absence of his clothes underneath and his hardness at your hip.

“OH!” Your eyes widen at this unexpected but not unwelcome surprise. Heat floods your face as you realise what he’s trying to do. He never gets tired of getting you flustered and the mischievous glint in his eyes and the playful uptick of his mouth tells you all you need to know.

“Is someone feeling a little shy today? You never cease to be a surprise no matter how many times we’ve been intimate.” He coos in your ear before sweeping the goblet up from the counter, sipping it a fine like mulled wine, humming with relief. “Thank you for the drink, darling. You really know how best to make it for me.” There’s a look in his eyes that swells with adoration for you. You didn’t need to go through all the effort of heating it up, making it nice and warm for him, but you did anyways, going out of your way to provide him with small comforts that reminded him that you were his true home. But the sentimentality quickly turns into at different form of love altogether and soon he is pressing teasing kisses all over your face every now and again between sips of your drinks, savouring the warmth as it brings. It’s a tender kind of domestic love that you didn’t know you yearned for until you had it.

[charliehoennam]

A/N: fulfilling @j23r23's request. Subtle reminder that my ask open again! Tried my best to sum it up, hope you enjoy <3

Summary: Reader's a pub owner and fianceè to The Alfie Solomons. Turns out she's a bit more than just that.

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warnings: Language, Adopted!reader, not proof-read, I think that's it??

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Most people would have been nervous if Alfie Solomons strolled on into their area of business without any notice.

Everywhere he went, his most trusted and strongest lackies followed behind for protection. They were intimidating on their own, but Alfie's dominant presence was enough to make anyone mentally retrace their days, wondering if they'd made their weekly payment for protection or if they'd gotten in trouble with any of Alfie's clan.

You, on the other hand, were not like the others. You remained calm, cool and collected the minute he wandered into your pub.

Despite it being young to the busy street and small in comparison to the neighboring establishments, you had heard many things about Alfie. Only rumors, however, mostly from your drunk clients at the Glass & Barrel.

Some would argue that he was full of himself. Others would make remarks on how he was a form of savior with the jobs he'd given them. A few despised him with all their might for the beating he'd ordered onto them. Judging by what you knew of these specific clients, you knew it hadn't been for nothing.

It was early morning when you hear the doorbell chime. You could hear him mumble on as he looked around at the pub, but couldn't quite make out what he said.

You knew right away who he was. The hat and the cane were dead giveaways, but it was his demeanor that made it clear. And what he did for a living did not sway you in the slightest.

You had expected his visit for a while. It was just a matter of time that he showed up to explain how his method of security works. It was simple. You pay and his boys protect. Extra pay meant he'd place a strong lad in the pub to chase away any unwelcome, rowdy guests.

The first thing Alfie noticed about you when he walked in and sat down at the bar was how unfazed you seemed. He knew at the moment that you were a fearless woman and he admired that.

He assumed you had to be that way, given the dubious characters that milked the bottles from your shelves and the barrels in the basement.

However, there was still a sweetness in you that teased his curiosity. It made him yearn for a woman in such a foreign way that he hadn't felt since he was a young lad.

Since then, his visits became more and more often until you realized he was stopping by about two or three times a week. The funniest thing about his visits was that he never drank anything other than water. It was quite comical.

He enjoyed charming his way into your heart. Every visit consisted of laughter, taste-tests of his finest brews, playful flirting and him trying to convince you to go out on a date with him.

You resisted. Alfie knew that you wouldn't be easy. He could barely imagine just how many drunken fellas have tried their luck with you. The gun you hid under the bar wasn't for nothing.

In fact, your reservation made you all the more special.

He respected your pace and, every time you turned down his invitations, he didn't press you.

"I respect that, love. But a man's gotta try, right? Maybe one day I'll get lucky and you'll say yes."

And he was right. One day, he did get lucky indeed and you finally accepted one of his relentless invitations. However, you requested that it'd be during the day.

You told him it was because the pub made more money at night, but really, you didn't want to give off the impression that you'd be repaying him with sexual favors.

Not that you didn't want to. Alfie's ruggedness was just one of the many features that you admired. You were more than attracted to him, but you weren't the type to sleep with someone so early on.

It was an unspoken boundary, but Alfie understood you better than you could ever imagine. He didn't need to hear you say it and he never forced you or questioned you about it. Truth is he was willing to wait as long as he needed to because he knew it'd be worth the wait. Because something told him that you would be the one.

The chemistry between you and Alfie was naturally cohesive. He cherished every moment he got to spend with you. Every laugh and smile he teased out of you were trophies to him.

Your relationship grew into mutual petting and necking often stolen in secret at the opera, in the corners of fancy restaurants or in the convenient shadows at the pictures. It gradually grew to the point where you finally felt comfortable enough to invite him to spend the night with you.

Alfie was right. It was definitely worth the wait.

He made sure to take it slow as to burn every single second and touch of into his memory. He wanted to make it about you and your pleasure.

Every kiss of his lips burned into your skin. His beard scratched your soft flesh of your as his kisses trailed over your body. His greedy hands pulled and squeezed you tightly, aching to meld your bodies to become one.

He couldn't get enough of you and you couldn't bare to part from him. The softness of his hair when your fingers raked through it, his hairy chest brushing against your breasts and then your back, the moans and groans vibrating from the depths of his core. It was enough to have you addicted to him.

That night with you was unlike any night he'd ever spent with any other woman. There was meaning to this act, deep meaning. You were the woman he loved, the one he hoped to marry. You were the woman that had given him hope to become a father and inspired him to be a better man. Despite being a hardworking man, he felt the lost desire to have a home to return to. Suddenly, Alfie had hope for a future in which he wasn't alone.

Throughout the time he'd gotten to know you, he noticed how you always seemed to stray away when the topic shifted to your family. You didn't lie about them. You told him just enough to satiate to his curiosity that was entirely about your adoptive parents.

The truth was that you barely knew your biological family. You knew who they were - your loving adoptive parents had always been honest with you about your origins - and that you were indeed one of the legendary Shelbys of Birmingham.

You hadn't thought about them for a long time until your now-fiance Alfie was meeting with Tommy Shelby at the distillery.

At first glance, you didn't know who was sitting across from Alfie in his office until Ollie told you and asked you to wait.

You stood outside of the office, away from Alfie's sight. It was clear Tommy was in rough shape. You'd heard about the beat down; you were amazed to see him still walking.

If he recognized you, he didn't make it obvious. He only saw you on his way out of Alfie's office, but he simply walked past you and left the distillery without looking back.

An emptiness hollowed you inside after he left. You wondered if he knew who you were. You wondered if anything would've changed if you had told him. After all these years, you doubted he'd even remember he had a little sister younger than Ada. Granted he was older than you - you yourself didn't remember anything from that time - there was a small part inside you that had hoped he'd remembered, but you had finally been answered.

It'd been a couple of days since you saw Tommy at the distillery. Although it hurt a bit to know he hadn't remembered you, you accepted fate as it was and felt like you could finally put it behind you as if you had finally buried the past.

Until the devil himself walked into the Glass & Barrel, announcing his arrival with the doorbell chime. He paused for a moment and let his eyes scan the pub.

It was early in the morning with only a couple of your regulars: veterans of the war drinking away their sorrows, and Bubba: the large bouncer Alfie insisted to keep inside the pub.

You froze as you watched Tommy take a cigarette before sliding it across his lips to wet the bud. From the corner of your eye, you noticed how Bubba looked at him and sat up alert, instantly recognizing him.

Bubba was a tall man who had gained his nickname for seeming common and unthreatening. You'd seen him in action plenty of times dealing with the rowdy clients to know he was anything but. He could blend into the crowd just as easily as he could fend off four men at once. Bubba always loved a good fight.

You nodded at him to let him know it was alright. He opened his newspaper again, but his eyes stayed locked on Tommy from the far corner.

You treated Tommy as you would treat any customer and offered him a drink.

"Whisky, please," he answered as he sat in front of you at the bar.

"Brown or white?"

"Brown" he nodded watching you move behind the bar. "This place yours?"

"It is, " you answered setting a glass in front of him to pour his drink.

"Nice place... Decorate it yourself?"

"I did."

He nodded and a small sip of his drink.

"You grew up 'round here?"

"Around London, yeah. Moved a bit here and there, but always stayed in London."

"You know, I once had a little sister. She was taken away early from us. My poor mum, she did her best to raise us. We were a bit of a handful. Six in total... Last I heard about her is that she lives in London."

Tommy cradled the glass in his hand and admired the brown liquid, but he could feel your eyes burning through him.

You froze as the realization washed over you. It was no coincidence that he wandered into your pub. It was entirely intentionally.

"Runs her own pub. Seems like that tends to run in the family," he paused and eyed you with a steely steady gaze, as if he could see right through you. "Does he know?"

Tommy felt like he already knew the answer. Alfie would have most likely brought it up during their first meeting if he knew.

"No. I haven't told him. I don't feel it's necessary to."

"I can respect that. But it doesn't change the fact that you're still family."

"With all due respect, Mr. Shelby, I have a family."

"I'm just saying, that's all. If you ever need a hand, you know where to find us."

You didnt bother replying since he was quick to stand, snuffing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the bar.

He stopped just before the door to set his cap on his head before glancing at you one more time on his way out.

You felt Bubba's eyes boring a hole into you so you quickly moved about, getting back to work. There was no doubt he'd be telling Alfie about this little visit. Tommy's a wise man; Bubba knew his visit was no coincidence despite having not been able to hear your conversation.

The truth would have to come out.

Once Eddie arrived to take over the night shift, you made your way a few streets over to the home you and Alfie shared.

Unlocking the door, you walked inside to hang your coat up. But from the corner of your eyes, you could a familiar shadow standing by the fireplace.

Alfie was never home this early. The lack of acknowledgement to your arrival made you certain something was up.

"Alfie. You're home early," you smiled walking towards him.

"Yeah, I am. I had an urgent matter to tend to myself."

"I see..." you nodded as you slowly drifted over towards him over the wooden floor that now felt like eggshells. Had Bubba told him about Tommy's visit? Had word spread about your relation?

"I heard tommy Shelby went to see you today... Care to tell me what that was about?"

"Before I tell you, Alf, there's something you should know."

As he lifted his gaze from the warm fire, his eyes carried the same softness he heard in your voice.

"I never told you this because I never thought it'd be relevant. But the truth is that I was adopted when I was a child... From Birmingham. I was 12 when my parents told me I'd been a Shelby."

You paused, hoping for some sort of reaction from Alfie, but there was nothing that could hint at his reaction.

"I didn't even who they were until that day I went your office. To be quite honest, I didn't even think any of them remembered me. That's why he came to the Glass & Barrel, to tell me he knew it was me."

Unbeknownst to you, Alfie already knew the truth. There was a doubt in the back of his mind that questioned - if you did in fact know your biological family - where your allegiance would lay and, at this point, it was only growing within.

His doubt consumed him, slowly but surely, over the following days. Everything had changed.

You first noticed that Alfie started missing dinner. After you moved in together, he was always home for dinner.

The mornings you once used to treasure due to the breakfast you shared with him were shared only with the presence of Cyril.

Gone before you woke up and home after you'd fallen asleep.

This night, you decided you were not going to bed. Tonight would be the night you confronted him.

The exhaustion of the day was beginning to set in. Your eyes felt heavy as you struggled to read your book, attempting to keep yourself awake.

Cyril, whose head was resting on your lap to be petted, snored peacefully. Blissfully unaware of your brewing angst.

Adrenaline quickly chased away and drowsiness you felt the minute you heard Alfie's car outside. It was now or never.

You waited for him to unlock the door and hang his coat up along with with his hat, still seated on the couch.

Alfie noticed the living room light on as he walked towards it and spotted you on the couch.

"Bit late, innit love? Should be in bed."

"Why are you avoiding me, Alfie?"

"No one's avoiding you," his foot was already on the first step of the stairs. Your anger quickly turned to tears as he proved you right.

"Then stay down here and face me, damn it."

Your hands trembled as you marched towards the stairs. Alfie stopped halfway up them when he turned to face you.

"I did not choose this, Alfie. I did not ask you be a Shelby. I did not choose the family I was born into. But if there's one thing I did choose was you."

Silences lingered heavily. His blue eyes stared down his nose at you. Your chest rose and fell with the adrenaline and flood of emotions coursing through you. As frustrated as you were, you didn't want to hate him. You couldn't if you tried.

Alfie hadn't thought about how his attitude would have affected you. He needed time to think. He trusted you blindly, but not knowing if your allegiance could change paralyzed him.

He watched how deeply emotional you were about his absence and realized that - the same way you chose to leave your biological family in the past despite knowing who they were - he needed to make a choice too.

He walked down the stairs until he stood before you.

"You're right, love," he nodded gazing into your tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah?"

His palm met your cheeks as he cradled your face in his hands.

"I'm sorry."

"Do you really think I would betray you, Alf?"

Your hands wrapped lightly around his wrists.

"For a moment, I wasn't sure if I'm not honest. Fuck, love. You gotta see from my side, yeah? Just wasn't expecting the love of my life, the apple of my eye, to be a Shelby. And that you knew."

"I didn't it mattered, Alf. I'm no Shelby. This is where my family is. In this house, here with you. I'm a soon-to-be Solomons."

"Right, you fucking are," he whispered wiping an escaping tear from your cheek.

"I choose you, Alfie. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, love. C'mere," his arms opened and welcomes you into his embrace. "I choose you too."

[courtingchaos]

There’s Levels To This

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A/N: oh my god It’s the beach episode! Dip your toes in kids, the water is fine. This is for my dearest @chestylarouxx who has me yearning on the daily for beach shenanigans with one Edward Munson.

Warnings: Just sex and drinking in the sun.

18+ NSFW No Minors

To say Eddie wasn’t your friend would be wrong. At every level he was dear to you, from a simple ride to work in the mornings all the way to your petty crimes partner now that the two of you were old enough to know better.

“A fall guy.” He’d said.

“Or at least someone with better eyesight.” He’d said, this time pushing your glasses back up your nose.

“Someone that has a getaway car.” He’d said while spinning his key ring around his finger. That callused digit bounces in the corner of your vision, thick and longer than yours. Nails bitten short with grime from the shop still under them.

You’re trying to hand the store over to the night manager and Eddie’s come in early. Beelined directly for you standing behind the elevated register and leaned all cool and carefree on your counter.

“I don’t want to get involved tonight Ed. Trying to leave town tomorrow if you remember.” You mutter at him while you try to finish counting the till.

“Well duh, I’m not gonna get us caught. We need to leave at what, 9?”

“We?” You lift your head and he reaches over and pushes your glasses up again.

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” He gives you mischievous smile. “Your mom invited me. Sorry you had to find out like this.”

“What’d you do to butter her up this time?” You drop the pencil on the till log and shove your hands onto your hips.

“Nothing! I simply told her how Wayne was going on his fishing trip this week too and I was gonna be rotting around the trailer all…by…my lonesome…” He leans in, props his chin on his elbow and gives you big puppy eyes.

You haven’t fallen for those in about four years.

(This is a lie. One of many but this one is a repeat offender in your repertoire of excuses for Eddie Munson.)

“Rotting?” You jerk your hand in front of your hips. “Is that what they’re calling it now?” You grab the till and hand it over to your replacement and she gives you a nod and directs a long suffering sigh at your shadow.

“You think I wait for Wayne to leave town? Barely can wait to get home sometimes.” He grins. “Your bathroom is remarkably soundproof, did you know.”

You smack him in the chest with an old stack of magazines. “You’re a pig.”

“Yeah well what’s that make you?” He follows you to the back, management having long gotten over trying to tell him anything.

“The prize pony whose stall you keep breaking into.” You seethe at him. It’s all in good fun but he still pauses in the doorway and squints at you. He opens his mouth, plush lips forming around a word before he seems to think better of it. Runs his tongue along along his top teeth and leans again while you get your stuff together.

“Do you even have swim trunks?”

“No, that’s why we’re going to goodwill.”

“Please tell me we’re not stealing from goodwill today.” You ask when you walk past him again.

(You do this thing where you never ask him to move. He wouldn’t anyways but you always use this excuse to brush against him. You think he’s gonna complain about tits pushed into his chest? Ha.)

“God no. I wanted to break into Harrington’s pool.”

“Oh, a little B and E before we skip town?” You do a little shimmy and Eddie laughs.

“Yeah. Running away to Florida with your mom and her boyfriend. So inconspicuous.”

Eddie finds the most obnoxious pair of neon pink trunks and you run him into the ground with your teasing.

“Between your pasty ass and these, you’re gonna blind those poor panhandle girls.”

“Listen pet, they’ve never seen something like me before. I’m gonna have jaws in the fuckin’ sand.” He keeps flicking through hangers of swimsuits and misses your face exploding through 10 expressions before you hack out a sound that makes his head whip up.

“Pet?!” The disgust is thick in your tone and on your face.

(Another fake out. The day Eddie stops giving you nicknames is the day you cease finding happiness.)

“Yeah you know what, I don’t like it either. I heard it somewhere and wanted to give it a shot.” He shakes his head and grimaces and quickly yanks a hanger to hold up the worlds tiniest bikini.

“Found your suit.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’re slime.”

“Oh come on, you need something to wear to the beach. Unless you’re going stark because then I need to rethink my whole outfit.” He snorts and playfully tosses his suit over his shoulder onto the ground.

“I’ve already got one.”

“Aw, we didn’t even get to go shopping together!”

“Eddie?” You sigh and his head pops back up over the rack after picking up his dropped clothes. “Shut the fuck up.”

He drops you off at your house so you can finish packing and he goes to his trailer to start. You agree to be ready by 10 so it’s dark enough that Steve’s neighbors won’t call the cops.

(You spend the two hours mindlessly folding laundry and imaging all the tanned southern belles chasing after Eddie and his tattoos on white sand. When you try to pack your socks they’re shoved into tight balls and none of them match.)

“Is this even crime if Steve knows about it?”

“Steve doesn’t know when we’re going so yeah, still crime.”

The drive into Loch Nora is full of Eddie’s ‘songs about weed’ mix until you hit the neighborhood entrance and then Eddie kills the radio. He drives the speed limit and keeps the windows rolled up and slides seamlessly into the Harrington driveway like he belonged there. It isn’t long before you’re both shimmying over the fence and stripping clothes, leaving them like a trail to your crime scene. Eddie cannon balls into the deep end and you wade down the stairs slowly.

The water is hot like the air is hot, barely a difference between the wet and dry parts of you.

(The wet parts of you are definitely wetter when Eddie breaches the water. He’s got chlorine in his eyes so you get to stare longer at his curls flattening to his head. The blue light of the pool reflects off his pale skin and his tattoos come alive under moving water.)

“Oh okay good, I can still swim.” He sputters and runs his hands through his hair while he treads water. “Can’t be playing possum in front of the babes now can I?” He starts his slow paddle over to you until his feet touch the bottom and he can walk. The wet glistening on him has you clenching your hands under the water and hoping that he doesn’t see it.

(You’re good at this, the lying. To yourself and everyone else and especially to Eddie.)

“Is this the infamous bathing suit?” He flicks the zipper on your chest before miming an explosion around his head.

It’s a high necked, high cut one piece split down the front with a long black zipper. When you’d bought it you’d felt like the Babest Babe to ever Babe. Now though, with Eddie giving you an up and down glance you have some second thoughts.

Too much skin? Thigh? Ass? It’s no string bikini but it is tight and that zipper was hanging lower with every shift of your chest under the stretchy nylon.

“Gonna have to keep you in the cooler, baby.” He presses his finger into your bare shoulder and hisses. “Too hot.” He slinks backwards and falls in slow motion, arms spread outward to float.

(You notice it then and you think about it later, how he keeps his hips dipped below the water line. You won’t lie to yourself about keeping your eyes on him in the hopes you’d catch a glimpse of too tight trunks.)

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” He says to the night sky while he floats away from you.

You would if you could, but this isn’t that kind of relationship is it? Eddie is your friend, on every level imaginable.

Except that level that you don’t think about and keep locked in the basement of your imagination.

So you swim in Steve’s pool and Eddie pretends to be an alligator to try and pull you under.

He dives off the board and sits on the bottom of the pool to see how long he can hold his breath.

You sit on the edge and watch him wear himself out with laps and handstands and somersaults.

You sit and watch him glide through the pool like he was made from it.

You two get out of there without anyone noticing and he asks about the trip on the way back to your house. He asks about the drive and if your mom’s boyfriend will let him drive and what the hotel situation is like.

“Am I gonna have to share a bed with you?” He leans away from you, an overtly grossed out look shot at you. “You have those glacier feet and I’m not going to be held liable for any elbows in stomachs if they touch me.”

“You snore like a tractor.”

“But at least my feet don’t kill with their icy touch.”

Wayne drops Eddie off in the very early hours of 8 am. You can hear voices talking downstairs but then there’s heavy footsteps and then a huff and a shove of your shoulder and clammy skin pushing into your own sleep warm skin. Eddie smells like his morning cigarette and his peppermint toothpaste and for a fleeting moment you forget exactly what this is. That level you daren’t imagine is abruptly surface level and you roll back into him. Your nose smushes into his shoulder, your leg winds over his and you settle back into the pillow.

A solid few minutes of waking up and with every braincell that fires, your heart beats faster. He’s motionless like a corpse. Barely breathing judging by the little huffs against your pillow case.

“I am…so sorry.” The regret rolls off you and you shove off him to the other side of your bed, back pressed up against the wall.

“It’s okay I-“

“I was still asleep, I didn’t-“

“I shouldn’t have climbed in your bed unannounced.” He stares. You stare. The sheets between you two shift when you sit up and slide off the end of your bed to get up.

“I’m gonna uh…bathroom.” Stuttering and rubbing sleep out of your eyes you grab your pile of clothes and then sit in the bathroom for ten minutes.

(You lie the whole drive to Florida. 11 solid hours of kidding yourself, keeping a pillow shoved between yours and Eddie’s knees so your thighs won’t touch. Every pit stop you stare at him while he folds out from the back seat and think about wrapping your leg around him again.)

The motel is pink and blue and right on the water. The big arch that indicates the entrance to the beach welcomes you to Emerald Shores and while you don’t consider yourself a beach girl, it’s actually quite beautiful.

Your mom and her boyfriend have a room on the second floor and you and Eddie have been relegated to the bottom floor.

“Just call us peons and get it over with.” Eddie whispers at you from the corner of his mouth and you laugh before The Boyfriend can turn back around with your room keys.

Eddie spends all of ten minutes in the room before he just disappears while you’re in the shower. He comes back an hour later with a handful of shells and a pizza.

“What a resourceful Indiana raccoon you are.”

“Yes, and if I didn’t forage for us, who would?” He tosses the box on the bed next to your legs and you don’t miss his lingering stare on your calves. He covers it with a nod and a joke.

“You better wear socks tonight. I’ve already got the A/C set to 65, I don’t need you putting me on ice too.”

(You withhold the truth from Eddie the next morning by not waking him when you wake at 6 AM and find him latched around your middle.)

Eddie rents a spot with two chairs and an umbrella and he gets to talk to every girl walking the shore that afternoon. You’ve been alternating between PBR’s and waters and now to avoid the dark cloud trying to damped your mood you ratchet the chair back and scoot out from under the umbrella to take a nap. Eddie asks about 100 times if you remembered sunscreen and you tell him 101 times that yes you did and no you don’t need him to reapply it for you.

(Yes you do! If you’d stop being insane for two seconds you could have his hands on your back and over your shoulders and up along the high cut of your hip and maybe he’d dip those musicians fingers behind your convenient zipper and-)

“You might want to pull your zipper up then.”

You peak one eye open to stare down at your chest. From this angle your don’t have cleavage so much as a valley but the zipper on your suit has popped down a few more teeth and Eddie seems to have noticed.

“I just don’t want you burning is all.” He sniffs. You roll your head to look at him and catch his quick shift of attention away from you.

In your light napping you hear a few voices asking Eddie where he’s from and if his tattoos hurt. One girl says she loves his hair, “especially tied back like that, so cute.”

Another girl asks about his girlfriend.

“Oh her?”

You imagine he points over his shoulder at you with a big thumb.

“Yeah. You sure she doesn’t mind you talking to me?”

You’d love to sit up and point out that you’re awake and also that she walked up to him but Eddie beats you to it.

“Oh this is all a cover. She’s actually scoping out this beach.” He gets a conspiratorial lilt to his voice and you imagine he’s leaning forward and turning on his Munson Charm.

“For what?” Mystery girl number 10 asks.

“She’s an international jewel thief and she’s heard there’s some real old money around here.”

You snort and alert them that you are, in fact, listening.

“Wait, seriously?” Suddenly this girl sounds wary. She makes up an excuse and scampers off down the beach back to her tan friends.

“Swing and a miss, Munster.”

“No. I made you laugh didn’t I?”

If Eddie has to watch that zipper unzip another zip he’s also going to unzip all of his zips.

It’s hot, and he and his brain have been baking under the sun but he refuses to leave. With you laid out in that fucking bathing suit he can’t miss a single moment of you in it. He’s on his…sixth, maybe eighth beer and his looks get longer with every empty in the cooler. He can make out the tan line on your hip when you roll over and he almost inhales the last of his drink because you’re all legs and ass. He can’t wait for later when you’ll be laid out after your shower, shorts hitched up from you sliding down the comforter and he’ll be able to catch a glimpse of that darkening line along your butt.

“Fucking hell…”

“You wanna head back in?”

(He does. He really does. He’ll carry the cooler and his towel in front of himself to hide his eagerness. He’ll carry your shit too just to watch you walk unencumbered in front of him, leading the way back to the air conditioned heaven and your thin pajamas.)

Three days in, two left to go and Eddie has decided he’s done lying to himself. He watches you every afternoon out in the sun in your bathing suit or the worlds shortest shorts and the most cropped band tees that he thinks might have been his at some point. He watches you run and roll over sand and wade cautiously into the ocean. There’s this part of your stomach he’s positive he’s never seen before and he watches very closely for the soft roll of it to peak out from under your shirts.

(He’s wanted to sink his teeth into you for a while but this new body part makes his teeth hurt. He drools after your thighs and dreams of digging his fingers into the soft dough of your ass. He imagines while he watches you stretched out on your towel that you’d be so soft in all those hidden places and he imagines so long he lets his beer go hot in the sand.)

He walks to cheap little gas stations over hot asphalt and hotter sand to get beer with you. He’d worry you two were going a little hard in the paint but it’s Florida where it’s practically state law that you drink shitty beer by the 12 pack, daily, if your staying on the beach front.

He follows you around like a loyal hound and acts like a guard dog when these fucking dudes start sniffing around you. Tall and tan and smelling like sunscreen and ocean. Eddie walks close behind, your constant second shadow and these fucking dudes get the hint when he glowers at them.

“I don’t think Floridians take too kindly to us midlanders.” You chew on a fry thoughtfully, knee hugged to your chest.

“What do you mean?” Eddie is finally drinking water after two days and a midnight migraine reminded him why you can’t just exist off of piss water beer.

“That girl the other day didn’t think you were funny which, come on.” You roll your eyes and say it like it’s so obvious how funny he his and he’s instantly convinced he could chuckle his way into your cutoffs. “And these dudes, they practically cross the street when we walk down the same sidewalk.”

Eddie just hums at you and finishes his water. He watches you wipe your fingers on your rapidly darkening thigh and he wants to lick the salt and sunscreen off your skin.

You find this little seafood place for dinner and Eddie is surprised he even sees your mom and her boyfriend show up. They’re not unwelcome but he’s sure they haven’t left their room since they arrived.

He has to put real shoes on which throws him for a loop but it’s not fancy. Neither of you are that, especially after almost four days of bumming it at the beach and being mildly drunk for most of it. He’s still watching everything you do, convinced and baptized in the Florida sun and sand that he can tell you his truth finally.

He waits for a break in your conversation with your mom to tap his index finger on your knee. “Can we go to the gas station before we head back?”

“Of course. Need more beer?” You nod as you ask. “I don’t know if we’ve had our daily allotment.”

He laughs through his nose and when you turn back to answer your moms question his stomach does a nervous flip and he doesn’t trust the shrimp on his plate anymore.

“You didn’t finish your dinner.”

“Okay mom.”

“I just wanted to know if everything was okay. You’ve been quiet today.” You stroll beside him, sandals in hand while he carries a fifth of southern comfort that he nervously bounces against his thigh.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “just taking it all in a guess?” The sunset paints the horizon in a way that is alien to the sunsets in Hawkins. “It’s pretty.” He says that to the side of your head while you look at the sky over the ocean. Even in his shorts and his chopped up tee he’s sweating but the breeze coming off the beach tells him this is all nerves and maybe he wasn’t ready to say it.

“Wanna take a walk on the beach?” You stop at one of the entrances and nod your head over, soft smile laid out on your face.

“Sure.”

The light paints both of you in a soft pink light and Eddie really needs to buy your mom something, anything to show his appreciation for the invitation. He could have missed out on this, instead probably working overtime at the auto shop and drinking sadly by himself, counting down time till you or Wayne got home.

Instead he gets to watch you walk ahead of him and lead the way to a tall fishing pier. He watches you kick the sand around and look for shells to add to your new collection.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t turn around, just trust that the wind will blow your question to him.

“Anything.”

You only stop when you get to one of the massive pilings, turning to lean your shoulder into it above the mess of barnacles. You stare at him, raking your eyes over his body and when he’s about to open his mouth you ask him.

“Can I kiss you?”

He’s 23 and not never kissed, just never been asked. Your open look shows your sincerity, eyes shining in the waning light, lip worried at by your teeth. He wants to sooth those nerves and kiss the salt air off of you. He chuckles, a light huff through his nose.

“Yeah.”

Your eyes light up as you get closer, dropping your handful of things into the sand.

“I’ve wanted to…for a while.”

“It’s not just my laissez-faire beach attitude drawing you in?” He drops the bottle behind him.

“No.” You smile before you kiss him. Soft hands on the side of his face bring him down and in, his curtain of hair blocking out the rest of the world. His lips are plush and a little chapped when they touch yours, damp from him nervously licking them before you’d bridged the gap. His hands find homes on your waist and he doesn’t miss the small sound you make when his fingers creep up under your shirt. You hold on to his face and push up into him and for a moment, he forgets you’re both on a public beach. He lets his hands wander to those hidden places and eats up your groans that you place directly in his mouth. It’s only when he hears the distant roar of an approaching atv that he comes to. Reluctantly breaks the kiss but keeps his forehead pressed to yours.

“Can we go-“

“Yes, please.” You snatch your things off the sand and start walking back towards the motel, his hand clutched tightly in yours.

Later he’ll come out of the bathroom still shaking sand out of his hair even after his shower, to find you watching tv. Still naked but wound up in the starchy sheets, one long leg left out so he can stare.

(That’s where he’d started as soon as the door closed. Backed you right up against the bed till you fell and he followed your leg up to your knee up to your hip, kissing off the sand and the salt and your sunscreen like he promised. He calls you sweetheart and beautiful and sweet like honey and he gets to watch you preen under his words.)

“Have a good shower?” You’re soft and relaxed into the bed, biting on a nail and watching him.

“Eh, so-so.” He didn’t bother with a towel, you’ve just seen him and he intends on you seeing him more.

(He was right. He was able to laugh you right out of your shorts. Nervous giggles while he inched up your stomach, tongue tasting soft skin and dipping in along your bellybutton. Like magic you were out of your shorts and out of your top and he’d had an idea that you weren’t wearing a bra but the light v of tanned skin between your breast makes him pause all the same.)

“Water pressure no good?”

“No, I still have fucking sand everywhere.” He kneels on the bed to slowly crawl over to you.

(He likes how you watch him. He realizes when he has one pebbled nipple in his mouth that you’ve been watching him for longer than today. Your heavy gaze directed down at him while he licks and nips at thin skin. He grabs and gropes your breast and you sigh and he thinks about buying this motel and never leaving.)

“Oh I’m sorry baby.” You coo at him. He hovers over you and shakes his hair above you.

“See?” And you squeal as sand litters the pillow.

(Your noises kill him softly. He’s heard you laugh and groan and yell before but not like this. Your laugh when he kisses up your neck sounds different that before. When he slides your underwear off and wastes no time pushing his fingers into your wet heat, that groan is deep in your throat. He’s not even fully undressed before he has you undone, loudly yelling his name and clutching his arm while he abuses that spot deep inside that makes you gush over his palm.)

“What the fuck Eddie!” You slap at him to get him off but he drops his weight and pins you in place. You still smell like sunscreen and ocean and cheap beer and he swears he’ll find a way to bottle it.

“I don’t want to leave.” He says sincerely.

(He can’t leave actually because this is the room where he got to touch you. A hundred kisses before he even gets his pants off, 50 more before your hands pull him from his boxers, another dozen or so while you lazily run your hand up and down his length and one final one before he pushes into you slow. He forces himself to keep his eyes open so he can watch. Your gasping and your reaching. The way you bounce under him when grabs the headboard for leverage and soundproofing.)

“This is nice, isn’t it?” You sound sad as you card your fingers through his drying curls.

“I mean…Hawkins can be kind of nice too. If you want.” His chest is tight when he asks his non question. Drops his truth out into the open like that.

(That tight feeling isn’t new, he’s always gotten that with you. Now though the levels are all different. You’ve kissed him and made him cum hot across your belly and you keep holding on to his head like he’s something precious to be kept safe and and and-)

“Hawkins can be nice.” Simple agreement makes his heart swell. He takes a deep breath and finally relaxes into you. You shimmy around to get the blankets over both you and Eddie’s dead weight. He plays with the ends of your hair laying against the pillow, white sand flecks sparkling in the dim motel lighting and decides he’s seen enough of the beach this week.

(You don’t lie to him much anymore, just enough to keep his ego in check. If he had any idea just how deep it all went, you’d never be able to pull him off the ceiling. He’s still a pig and he’s still slime but he’s your pig and your little plastic trash can container of slime. You’d be lying if you said Eddie wasn’t your friend, but the levels got all gummed up with sand and shells and now you don’t have to lie to yourself anymore.)

((Sacrifice for the read more))

[ice-eise-babyy]

Pure | JB.B - Drabble

Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (ft. Pre-serum!Steve Rogers)

Summary: a very drunk bucky who refuses to leave the pub with a 'crazy lady' a.k.a his girlfriend.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol but other than that, its mainly just fluff guys

A/N: I dont even know if this is any good but i hope you guys enjoy it <33

You would be lying if you said you didn't want to hurl something—anything— at Steve's head right at this moment. It's almost 10:00 p.m and instead of being in bed drifting off to sleep, you were currently out in the streets of Brooklyn on the way to a pub, who wouldn't want to hurl someone in the head with something?

"I'm really sorry y/n. I really wouldn't have woken you up if—" Steve's 20th apology this night was shortly cut of as you gave him a sideward glare. You felt slightly guilty after doing so, knowing that you were pinning this on him even though you were partially at fault.

If you had agreed to Bucky early this morning then you probably wouldn't be awake at this unforsaken hour. You probably wouldn't have Steve throwing rocks at your window to wake you up, and you probably wouldn't be walking to a pub to pick up your boyfriend who apparently refused to leave because he wanted to see you. You sighed, recollecting the conversation you had with him earlier today.

—

"But y/n..." you rolled your eyes at his dramatic whining. "Bucky, you're just going to spend the day with Steve. It's not the end of the world." You had been convincing him to spend more time with steve for almost a week now mainly because he has been spending most of his time with you, even sleeping at your apartment. The reason being he had to leave for wisconsin in 2 days because of military training.

As much as you want to grab bucky's face in your hands and look him in the eye while saying 'i also want to spend the day with you' and have him to yourself, you knew that if you do that you would be selfish. You knew that he might end up regretting not spending more time with Steve before leaving, he just probably haven't realized that yet.

"Can you atleast come with us, doll?"

"No, Bucky. absolutely not. if i come with you, you'd probably ignore Steve the whole time."

—

You smoothed out your Navy colored dress before shoving your white gloves deep in the pocket of your coat. You slowly walked in when Steve opened the door of the pub entrance for you. There weren't much people, mostly just soldiers who came back from war or just men in general. Your eyes darted around the place and a sigh of relief fell from your lips as your eyes landed on Bucky. He was sitting on one of the stools with only his side facing you, his forehead pressed on the bar counter as he looked down at his hands that were resting on his lap, he was humming a familiar song as he did so. He was looking at his hands like it was the most interesting thing to ever exist. His eyes wide and his lips pursed. You felt a warmth in your chest as you peered at his drunken state for a few beats longer. He was out for only a few hours and to you it also felt like just a few hours but to your heart... to your heart it felt like so long, long enough to have it yearning for him. yearning for his touch, his voice, his love...

You sighed once more as you sat down right beside him. He paid you no attention, eyes still on his hand and still humming the same song. Your lips tugged into a smile as you realized what song he was humming. It was 'when you wish upon a star' by glenn miller. It was the song playing when you had danced with him for the first time.

"Bucky?"

"Go away miss. I have a girlfriend" he was so quick to turn you away, mistaking you for another woman because he haven't looked at you once. This sparked an idea. A funny and harmless one.

"Oh, you do? too bad."

"Yeah, too bad for you— *hic* not for me. I'm happy where i am."

"Really? tell me then, mister. How is she like?"

He still hasn't looked at you. In his head he thought that there was no point in looking at other women because those other woman aren't even you. the only problem was it was you but of course he didn't know that yet. A wide smile adorned his face as he heard your words. Oh boy was he excited to brag about you.

"She is amazing. Words would never ever be enough to describe her beauty. It's unparalleled— *hic* and it's not... not just her face that's beautiful," even though you couldn't see the entirety of his face you didn't fail to notice the dreamy smile tugging in the corner of his lips, "Her soul as well and her smile— oh her smile... it just makes me— *hic* make me warm in here..." his hand pressed on his chest and gripped it like he was trying his best to pull his heart out just to show you where exactly he felt the warmth. "I really really want to marry her but she said that— *hic* i gotta win the war first... Stupid fucking nazi's" his fists clenched as he muttered that last words.

Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth as you tried to hold back your laughter. This was a rare sight to see your boyfriend all dazed while talking about you. Sure he was vocal about how he felt for you. He would always say how much he loves you or how beautiful you are but... you never expected that this is how he would talk about you to other people.

"That's really cute but we really gotta go home y/n. The pub's closing" Steve's voice dripped with sarcasm as he popped up from behind you before walking over to Bucky and patting him by the shoulder.

"Bucky, we gotta get you home.." you said but he just shook his head. he finally looked up but instead of looking at you, his gaze landed on the skinny little man in front of him. "Steve! you gotta help me man. That crazy lady's trying to take me home!" he said with genuine fear and panic in his eyes before standing up and gripping steve by the shoulder, his index finger pointed towards you who was sitting behind Steve. Steve doubled over as he laughed at him and Bucky tilted his head, confused as to why his friend would laugh at such a 'serious' situation.

"Bucky, that's your girlfriend." Steve bursted out laughing again as he saw Bucky's face contorting with a confused expression before looking at you who sat behind Steve. His eyes went wide and his jaw went slack when he realized, It was you!

"my god! it is!" he practically shoved Steve away just to rush over to you and get a clearer view of you. His hands flew to the sides of your face forcing you to looking up at him. he gave you a quick peck on the lips, an ecstatic smile adorning his face as he pulled away. His breath smelled of beer and maraschino cherries. He picked you up and spun you around the moment you stood up.

—

The three of you are now walking back to Steve and Bucky's shared apartment. Bucky's left arm was draped around Steve's shoulder to help himself as he walked sloppily while his other arm was swinging back and forth as he intertwined your fingers together. the way he looked at your hands with such adoration made your heart melt and maybe even made you realize that it is possible to fall inlove with the same person over and over again...

"y/n..."

"Hmm?"

"I may be tipsy with the beer and grenadine, but..." he paused for a moment when he heard you giggle. it was funny to you because 'tipsy' was probably an understatement, "I meant everything I said... I really want to marry you... wait for me til I get back from war... okay?" his voice was small and it sounded so innocent. There were hundreds— maybe even thousands— of words that would be perfect to describe Bucky's love fore you but 'pure' was the most accurate one out of all of them. His love was pure...

"I will, bucky..."

but he never did...

[venerawrites]

Can I request Naruto with a single mama? Her little 1 yr old is a little unsure at first but comes to ADORE Naruto. Please and thank you!

Author's note: I am finishing my written assignments for uni this and next week, so I'm being extra slow with the requests, for which I am sorry :( Anyway, this request was super cute and I loved writing it! Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!

Becoming a war hero almost overnight sounds like a dream come true for every shinobi. All the years of pain, sweat and blood finally being recognised and appreciated by the people was something that rarely happened through history, and even when it did, most of the time it didn't last long.

But Naruto was no ordinary war hero - he was once the most hated person in Konoha, who despite everything remained loyal to his village and his friends. Filled with hope and ambition for the future, he proved himself as an excellent shinobi and most importantly, a good potential leader. So when Kakashi gave up his position as the Hokage, there was no question about who should be his successor.

Everything in his life fell into place pretty quickly after that - he bought a house, he started volunteering at the academy and the hospital during weekends, and also became the best man to Shikamaru and Temari's wedding. The boy that was once called a "freak" was now the "man of progress" - a symbol of prosperity and inspiration to many children across the Land of Fire. Tales and songs were already written in his name, and to him, it still felt unreal.

With fame came also attention. In the beginning, he loved it. Having women competing for his affection was fun and also very new for him - never has anyone asked him out on a date or given him gifts before. It did stroke his ego and for the first months after he became a Hokage, he entertained such advances. After all he was a single man, so why not? Perhaps one of these women would one day turn out to be the one.

Days became months, months became years and soon he found that almost all of his friends were either married or engaged. So far it never bothered him, but after Sakura and Sasuke came back carrying a child in their arms, he started to seriously think about what he wanted.

Years ago, if anyone has asked him what he seeks in a partner, his answer would've easily been his teammate. But since then a lot has changed, including him. He was more mature and level-headed now, and looking back, he realised what he felt toward the pink-haired kunoichi was not real love, but rather a childish crush. She was his best friend and he had deep respect for her, but even he realised how incompatible their personalities were and how his teenage self had an unrealistic idea of who she actually is.

Naruto was the definition of fire. He often acted based on his emotions and while he was better at self-control than he was before, there were still moments when he slipped up and let his inner thoughts take over his rationality. The last thing he needed was someone who had the same burning soul. Quite the opposite - he yearned for calmness. His heart needed to be both loved and protected by someone who can balance him.

This realisation felt heavier with each day. To have someone by his side soon became a mirage - no matter how often he attempted to give a chance to someone, the spark was just never there. All these women looked differently and talked differently, but ultimately they all gave him the same feeling - emptiness.

"Everything comes with time", Kakashi said to him, when he noticed him sitting by himself at Ino and Sai's wedding. The blonde man just smiled, weakly nodding at his sensei, not having the energy to oppose him. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to just finish his drink and head home to rest for the early morning meeting he had the next day.

Like almost everything in his life, however, this didn't go to plan. He was just about to stand up from his place, when his eyes locked with yours across the room. "She is definitely not from here", he thought, as you directed a small smile at him, lifting your glass in the air, before returning your attention to Ino, who was eagerly explaining her honeymoon plans to you. Naruto assumed you were not a shinobi as well, as he was sure he would've remembered you if he had encountered you in the past.

Before he can think about what he was doing, he was already walking toward the table where you and the bride were sitting. Pulling the chair next to Ino and opposite you, he slumped on it, his eyes dancing between you two.

"Can I join you, ladies?", he asked, despite the fact he already had. You both nodded and he grinned in response, before turning toward Ino and laying his hand on her shoulder:

"Congratulations on your marriage, Ino! Sai is a lucky guy!"

"You bet he is!", she laughed, nudging you with her elbow. Expecting such a response from her, you only rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a small smile. There was no room for disagreement, however - while Ino had quite a personality, she was one of the most kind and sincere people you have ever met. No wonder you became friends so quickly after she was sent to a mission in your village and you preserved that friendship despite the distance and all the years that have passed.

"Oh!", the bride suddenly exclaimed, grabbing your hand and almost shoving it into the blonde man’s face, "Naruto, this is Y/N. She has been my friend for... How many? Almost 10 years now! She is originally from the Curtain Village, but has been travelling for a while now."

"The Curtain Village? Isn't that the capital of Land of Silence?"

"It is", you confirmed, shaking his hand once he put it in yours. Noticing the slight furrow of his brows, you were quick to add with a smirk: "I am not a criminal that is here to blow up a wedding, if that is what you are thinking."

Letting out a scoff, Naruto looked a few times between you and Ino, before laughing nervously. He still hadn't let go of you, continuing to shake your arm up and down.

"What? I-you... I didn't-", he stammered, looking over to the bride for help. It was true a very brief thought of suspicion flashed through his mind hearing where you were from, but how can anyone blame him? The Land of Silence was a country of lawlessness, full with criminals and terrorist, all of them sharing the same hatred for Five Great Shinobi.

"Oh, don't listen to her, she is joking!", Ino laughed, before turning toward you and gently slapping you on the shoulder. Her eyes moved to the middle of the table, above which the Hokage was still holding your hand, his whole face flushed bright red. The minute of silence must have caught the man's attention, because soon after he let go of you, moving his fingers behind his body and nervously scratching his neck.

"Not weird at all", your friend muttered, before turning toward you, "Y/N, this is Naruto! A childhood friend, a war hero, the current Hokage... and also a man who does not know how to act like a normal human being in front of a beautiful woman."

He immediately opened his mouth to protest but was stopped the second your laugh reached his ears. This has to be the most melodic and beautiful sound he has ever heard. Too lost admiring it, he didn't pay any attention to Ino, who excused herself, giving you both a knowing look. He noticed only a few minutes later your shared friend is missing and he mentally cursed himself of how he was behaving. His teenage years were long gone, why couldn't he compose himself like the grown man he is?

"So, Hokage...", the title sounded almost seductive from your lips, "What was a man of such importance doing by himself at the bar? One would think you would be the centre of attention tonight. After the bride and groom, of course."

The tone of your voice combined with the sparkle in your eyes was enough for him to be able to barely keep focus on what you were actually saying. Squirming in his seat, he nervously laughed, wondering for how long were you watching him before he approached you. He must have looked like a complete fool sitting by himself ordering glass after glass and only occasionally being spoken to by the passing guests. Definitely not the impression he wanted to leave.

"I just... needed some time away from people. I didn't know Ino and Sai had THAT many friends", his words made you laugh and he instantly beamed at the sound, happy he was the one causing it.

"What about you? You here with someone?"

The slight nod of your head made his heart drop to his stomach and the corners of his mouth moved downward into a frown. Was it surprising? You were a beautiful woman after all, of course the chances for you to be taken were high. He sure as hell was disappointed though. A tiny part of him was hoping that you were here by yourself and that maybe, just maybe, he would have the chance to get to know you more.

Seeing the way his whole expression darkened, you bit back a smile, nodding your head to the end of the large room. There, in a corner, one baby boy and two little girls, one of which was Sarada, were enthusiastically smashing plastic toys around, being supervised by smiling Sakura.

"I am accompanied by the fine gentleman over there", you pointed to the boy, before laughing, "But I think he may be too occupied at the moment to even remember I exist."

Naruto followed the direction of which your finger was pointing and he suddenly felt his body relax. Oh. You were talking about that type of company.

"Is that your brother?"

Raising your brow at him, you gave him a small smirk, finding his question cute. There was something about this man that was both extremely sweet, yet attractive - perhaps it was the innocence he radiated, while looking so strong and masculine.

"You are flattering me", your attention moved back to the child, who was now trying to communicate something with Sarada, "This is my son, actually."

"Your son?", his voice came out louder and squeakier than expected and he immediately added, "It's just... you look so young, heh. Not that is a bad thing, you know? You are beautiful! Your son is also beautiful... Not in a creepy way, I mean he looks a lot like you and-"

The words suddenly got stuck in his throat and he loudly gulped, already fearing the disaster he just created. Expecting you to stand up and leave, or maybe even slap him, he was shocked when all you did was to just grab his hand and give it a little squeeze.

"You sure blabber a lot for a Hokage", you joked, before standing up, "Excuse me just for a minute."

Blue eyes followed your body across the room, curiously watching how you picked up the small boy in your arms and placed it on your hips, before making your way back. Now that he was getting closer, Naruto could fully appreciate the striking resemblance the child had with you. You had dressed him in a little blue shirt and black pants, which was complementing your dress with the same colours.

“Wow! He is literally your twin! Dad must be jealous”, he laughed nervously once you were just few feet away. The mention of he word “dad” made your body stiffen and you adjusted your baby’s position, so you can both sit comfortably.

“I doubt that - that man didn't even have the decency to show up for his child's birth, let alone acknowledge his existence .”

The blonde almost chocked on his drink, hitting his chest a few times. Was it bad to feel so good after hearing you say these words? He would never dream of wishing any child to grow up without a father, yet something inside of him felt almost relieved.

"Oh?", his posture relaxed and he raised one eyebrow, "So you are single mother?"

The answer was obvious, but he needed to be 100% sure - the last thing he wanted was to ruin someone's relationship, especially when there is a child involved. The nod of your head and the small smile were the final assurance he needed and without further word, he moved to the seat next to you which was previously occupied by Ino.

The sudden movement startled the baby in your arms and it immediately turned its head to the side, curiously observing the man.

"Hi, little one! My name is Naruto. Oh my, you are very cute!"

Uzumaki was good with kids. Maybe it was because of his friendly appearance or the fact he was full with energy, just like them, but there has not been a single child so far that didn't adore him from the moment they laid their eyes on him. Even Sarada, much to Sasuke's dismay.

The look that your son was giving him, however, was anything but impressed. Staring at him with his big eyes, he didn't even move a muscle, as if he was challenging him to a staring contest.

Can babies even challenge someone? Naruto never thought so, but he could swear the boy's brows furrowed just a bit, enough for him to send a clear message: "I may be cute, but you are not and neither is your attempt to impress my mom."

"He is very shy", you said, bouncing him on your lap. As a result to your constant travels due to your job, he didn't had a lot of interactions with other children or with people in general. Growing up without a father, he was very attached to you and any unknown person was always treated with suspicion.

To you he was just being cautious. To the man to your right, however, he was protective. The look he has given him was not one of a timid child, quite the opposite - he may be small, but he loved his mama and was not about to let a random man come and sweep her off her feet. Even if he was the Hokage himself.

"Well, I would love to get to know him", the man smiled, before lifting his eyes to yours, "and you, of course! Maybe... I can take you out on a dinner or something?"

"No", the word fell out of your child's mouth, before you can even start replying. Naruto looked at him, noticing the small pout that was now formed on his chubby face. Biting his lip, the Uzumaki tried his best to contain his laugh and remain serious. Not that he didn't respect the little man and how he tried to protect you, but he was so small and cute, it was hard to take him seriously.

"Hey, that is not nice!", you said to your son, giving him a look. He, however, didn't even acknowledge you, his whole attention trained on the man next to you.

"I am sorry, he just learned the word "no", and now he keep saying it at the most random times."

The blonde nodded with a smile, knowing that this was definitely NOT a random time.

"But to answer your question, WE would love to go on a dinner with you!", you adjusted the baby in your arms and the shift finally made him look at you. With a smile, you pressed a kiss to his temple, before looking back at the Hokage: "I am staying with Ino for the next three weeks. Pick us up tomorrow at 8?"

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

The next day Naruto was half an hour early to the arranged time. Too scared to knock on the door and look way too eager to see you, he decided to wait outside, almost giving Ino a heart attack once she opened the door and nearly bumped her head in his chest.

"Naruto, what the hell are you doing just standing in front of my door?"

"Uh... Waiting?", he scratched the back of his head nervously, wishing there was a hole in the ground that can swallow him whole. It was not like this was his first date ever, why was he nervous about?

Deep inside he knew the answer - it was not you who was making him anxious, but your son. The way their first interaction went woke something competitive in him and now he was determined to prove himself as a man, good enough to be a partner and a father.

Being the village's hero he hasn’t faced a challenge like this for a while, so while he thought a bit of smooth talking and play time with your child were enough to win your son over, it seemed to make the situation even worse. The child refused to play with him and instead was clinging to you the whole time, giving Naruto such a look, which could only be described as a glare.

"He is not usually like this", you said at the end of your date, when you were both saying your 'goodbyes' in front of Ino's house, "I am really sorry if it made you uncomfortable or-"

Before you can finish, big calloused fingers pressed themselves to your lips, silencing you. You were glad that your son was now asleep, as he saw the gesture, he would surely cry, just like he did every time Naruto tried to grab your hand or touch you in any way during dinner.

"Hey, I think it is completely normal", the blonde let out a short breathy laugh, moving his eyes between the child and your face, "He just want to protect his mother. If I was him, I would be the same..."

Looking down, you carefully considered his words. You avoided dating after your ex left you once he found you are pregnant, so you never had the chance to observe your baby boy around men. But looking at his behaviour now, the Hokage's words made sense.

Thankfully for you, the Uzumaki was not a man who gave up easily. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he invited you both to go and visit him the next day in the Hokage tower. He promised to give you a tour around and grab a lunch with you during his break.

For the three weeks you were in Konoha, you spend every single day with Naruto. He started going to work extra early, just so he can leave on time to pick you up and show you another one of his favourite spots around Konoha. For everyone around you, it was obvious you were absolutely whipped for one another and all this extra effort from his side seemed almost unnecessary in their eyes. For him, however, it was more than necessary, especially since your shared future was depending on it.

As a teacher, you built your job around travelling - you loved sharing your knowledge with the world, as well gaining new one from each place you visited. Such life was busy and demanding, especially for a single parent, but the pros outweighed the cons significantly.

Naruto refused to directly ask you to move to Konoha permanently, but his intentions were pretty clear - he never missed a chance to point out how good the Academy is, how there is a higher education institution being build right now and how gifted the kids in the village were. In the beginning, you didn't give any indication you were even considering staying, but after a while you started to show your interest in your own way - mainly by asking questions about the job market, the teachers in the Academy and in general the life in Konoha.

His relationship with your son also improved drastically. At first, the child stopped "glaring" at him and actually trusted him to come near you. Then, a few days later, he agreed for the first time to play ball with him and at the end of your walk in the park, he even fell asleep in Naruto's arms. By the time you had to leave, your son was so attached to the blonde, he refused to let go of his neck and go in your arms.

"We need to go, darling", you muttered tiredly, trying to detach him from the Hokage.

"No", he cried even louder, "Mama - bye!"

Letting out a loud laugh, Naruto adjusted the little boy in his arms, so he frees one hand and takes yours in it.

"Maybe mama would consider staying", he said, his grin transforming into a soft smile. Squeezing your fingers between his, he tugged you toward him, wrapping his free hand around your waist.

"I won't force you to stay if you do not want to... but I really, really wish you would consider it! I know we have been knowing each other for weeks, but damn, I am in love with you! And I love this little guy here", he looked over the child in his arms, that was now snuggling in his chest, giving you the biggest puppy eyes, "He does feel like my son. And if you leave... I may have to follow you till you agree to come back. And believe it, I do have some experience with making people come back!"

Letting out a giggle, you raise your brow at his words, the bag on your shoulder already falling down.

"Yeah? You would travel around the whole world just to bring us back to you?"

Closing the distance, he leaned his head to the side, so he can lay a small kiss on your lips. He pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a breath of relief once he heard your bag falling to the floor.

"I will travel to the end of the universe, if it means you will be with me."

cc artowork: Jayison Devadas

[redsaurrce]

i really loved your wednesday work!!

is it possible to request a wednesday x gn! reader fluff, perhaps continuing 'mystery to me' if youd like??

-<3

MYSTERY TO ME 2

summary . Wednesday started to fall in love harder than she knew she had with you.

pairing . Wednesday x gn!reader

warning . lot's of fluff and kissing T_T me and who?

MYSTERY TO ME 1

Author's note: Thankyou so much everyone for showing your love and support mwah mwah and thankyou to you anon that now a mystery to me part 2 exists! &lt;;3 hope y'all like it ^_~

--x

You and Wednesday have been on a rollercoater ride ever since you both started dating. The phrase- "Life is full of surprises"- was hard to believe for Wednesday because all that had occured in her life was predictable, she knew what would happen to her due to her actions, she knew what would happen to others due to her actions.

But this was a first, as much as it haunts to not know what comes next, Wednesday was thrilled to say the least. Emphasis on thrilled. She liked mysteries afterall, mysteries which are too easy to crack are no fun. But trying to predict you and failing to do so everytime.. was fun in it's own.

Like the time you kissed her neck.

🍥Little ice cream dates

Tyler had suggested you a good icecream parlour so you insisted Wednesday to hang out with you there.

"I came for an icecream, not to see your mouth smeared with some overly whipped cream." Wednesday commented while giving you a judging look.

You chuckled, "The same goes for you." She contorted her eyebrows as you suddenly leaned closer.

"Let me wipe for you." You said and you kept leaning further until your lips were mere centimeters away, as much as that she could clearly smell the flavour of the icecream you were having from your lips. She immediately shut her eyes as reflex and you couldn't help but laugh and backoff as you cleaned the lips with your finger. Did she think we were about to kiss? How adorable?

Wednesday immediately opened her eyes feeling embarassed and now she wanted revenge, therefore before you could seize your laughter, she leant in as she kissed the cream of your lips leaving your eyes wide open in shock.

You looked at her speechless as your heart beat increased it's pace. You started fanning yourself, "You sure are bold huh? In open public?" She smirked at your reaction, "You teased me first _________! Winning is in my nature." You wiped your mouth with a tissue as you listened to her with narrowed eyes. "Oh Miss Addams, are we competing against each other?"

She shrugged, "Whatever it is, I won." "Then watch out." And before Wednesday could decipher your warning, you grabbed her by shoulders catching her off gaurd and then you did what Wednesday never saw it coming in a million years. You kissed her.. on neck.

She took in a sharp breath, "I won." You said with a victorious smirk.

She blinked at your sudden action, you were making her feel foreign things and she needed to cool off immediately. The icecream was long finished and now all she wanted was to run. She started walking away when you laughed loudly and called out to her, "Wednesday that's the wrong direction." Good, now she was getting directions wrong, way to go Wednesday! She mentally facepalmed herself as she reversed her direction with a straight face.

But even though it was somewhat embarassing, Wednesday for the first time didn't desire to kill someone who embarraseed her.

Your relationship was filled with teasing, loving and a lot's of physical affection.

Simply put Wednesday YEARNED for your little acts of touch any time you got the chance to do so.

It wasn't just you who did unpredictable things, even Wednesday surprised you at times.

Like the time she cupped your cheeks.

🍥Little touch and lots of kisses

Early in the morning when you waited outside Wednesday's room, she'd come out and you would place a goodmorning kiss on her cheeks while she offered you your favorite candy she had asked Thing to arrange. It was sort of unbelievable how Wednesday had remembered the candy you mentioned in passing when she had asked you what you used to consume sneakily during class.

It was unbelievable because you had stopped eating that candy as you had run out of it, that was two weeks before you both started dating- which means that she had noticed you in classes even before you both were together, isn't that surprising? You kicked your feet in air when you realised it while screaming into the pillow.

After she comes out of her room, you both would go to class while holding hands. And the biggest tease- Xavier would blabber non stop on how much skinship you both displayed openly. "Are you sure you both are dating for the first time? Normally people take months to get onto the stage that you guys are in right now."

"I like speed Xavier." Wednesday's sudden confession gave you butterflies, "what do you mean by speed?" Enid raised her eyebrows with a mischievous expression. "Totally not what you are thinking Enid!" You said flustered while she narrowed her eyes further.

"What are you all talking about?" Wednesday asked in a confused state as she tried to observe the looks you both were exchanging.

"Uh- oh Wednesday I just remembered Ms. Thornhill had summoned you." You said while dragging her away.

Wednesday gave you a questioning look with her eyebrows raised, "I know you lied to get out of there___________. Is it something I'm not supposed to hear?" She asked as she sat down next to the fountain in your campus.

"It-it's nothing." You said not being able to look into her eyes. "The way you are avoiding the question makes me even more curious." She titled her head and crossed her arms.

"Wednesdayyyy" You whined in desperation. "Whatttt?" She mimicked your whining with a poker face. "Ugh this isn't gonna do." You grabbed your forehead and sighed, "Fine I'll tell you." You hissed.

She looked at you amusingly, she wasn't actually that much interested about the conversation before, rather she liked the way you were acting. You were so cute afterall.

"Fine if you don't want to tell then don't." You jumped in happiness at her words but she continued further, "Only if you give me a kiss." She demanded.

You poked your inner cheeks with your tongue, "Why not?" You felt relieved at such an easy task, you loved to kiss her anyway. So you went ahead and kissed her forehead.

She sighed in dissapointment so she cupped your cheeks and looked at you intently. You blinked, "d-did I make a mistake?" And why would she suddenly cup your cheeks? You totally didn't see that coming.

"Yes!" She said, "You were supposed to kiss here." And she leaned in to kiss your lips with great passion, it was like you were kissing an experienced kisser. She kept on changing angles during the kiss making it even more steamy.

Two floors above near the window, Enid squealed and kept hitting Xavier's arm as she looked at you both kiss there. "Wednesday is such a quick learner, I'm so proud of myself." Xavier looked at her and scoffed, "What do you mean?"

"I taught Wednesday how to kiss!" She said in absolute thrill. Xavier's eyes went wide, "Wait! Don't- don't tell me you taught her how to kiss by.. by .. kissing each other?"

Enid gave him a nasty look and waved her hands, "Hell no! Wednesday just saw me and Ajax kissing and took some notes." Xavier raised his eyebrows in shock, "So you are telling me you both caught her taking notes while you both kissed in secret?"

She laughed, "What secret? She had asked me to show her so I called Ajax over and she stood there looking at us making out."

Xavier's jaw dropped, "She willingly became a third wheel?" It was as if Xavier started having physical pain in cringe.

"Yeah, it amazes me how much Wednesday loves ___________ to go to these extents. Doesn't it amazes you?" "Yeah it totally does." Bianca shook her head as she came from behind and gave a breathy laugh.

"Me and who?" She sighed as she picked up the textbook lying next to Enid. "Right Wednesday and __________ really be making us feel so single. I hate it here. I'm out." Xavier grunted.

When you both parted for air, you looked at Wednesday with a lovesick gaze, you loved her so much so being drunk in her love you finally confessed, "I love you, Wednesday."

She felt surprised and joyous at the same time so she breathed what she wanted to tell you so eagerly since past few days. "I love you too __________." She did it! SHE DID IT FOLKS!

And that was another first in your flowery and fiery relationship as you both continued to kiss again!!

--x

AYO WHATYDGAGA@#($U@( what wht? Tysm for reading luvs brb crying :")

[wolf-na]

wolf keum — heart bloom

summary : you’re one of the best students at ganghak and you live your life following a perfectly planned routine. but what happens when the scary, charismatic and notoriously famous delinquent, wolf keum starts gravitating around you?

genre : acquaintances to lovers, fluff, angst, oc is insecure, wolf is down baaaaad, the fic’s VERY long (oops)

It’s not your style to be late to school. You’re never behind on assignments and always get exceptionally good grades. You’re not loud in the hallways or at the cafeteria.

You exist in peaceful silence, only making yourself known when you need to. So you can’t help the eye roll and rush of anger when the classroom door is being yanked open in the middle of your presentation.

Wolf Keum barges inside the room, bag pack loosely hanging over his shoulder and a helmet in his hand. He doesn’t say a word, barely acknowledges the glare coming from your teacher and takes his seat at the back.

"Wolf, what an honor having you in today!" your teacher says sarcastically.

Why is he even here anyway? You don’t recall seeing Wolf coming to school that early in the morning, not that you pay attention to him ever for that matter. You just so happen to have attended the same institutions since preschool and you remember him being an adept for cutting classes almost your whole life.

Wolf doesn’t reply to your teacher and you gulp. What were you saying? Ah, that stupid boy interrupted you and now all your focus is gone. You’re not worried about your grade, you could stop speaking right now and still get an A. No, you’re worried because now you can feel the eyes of all your classmates on you.

Before any presentation in front of a full classroom, you feel like you’re going to die. You don’t know why you feel this way but you can’t seem to control the nerves, the way your stomach twists and your racing heartbeats.

You live your life in silence, surrounded by your small friend group and absolutely hate having to stand in front of a whole group to talk. You’re aware that most of them don’t even listen to you, too busy scrolling endlessly on their phones, but it still freaks you out.

"Y/N, please continue."

Now’s not the time to panick. You did manage to hold yourself together for ten minutes and forget the presence of the students in the room, you can do it again.

Eyes landing on your best friend, Myung, you relax when she gives you a playful wink.

But you miss the way Wolf’s attention lands on you when he hears the teacher speaking your name.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

The sun is long gone when your shift at the coffee shop finally ends. From where you are, behind the counter, you can see the wind blowing, shaking the tree branches strongly.

With a tired sigh, you put on your sweater and grab your bag, ready to go home and work for a few hours before calling it a day.

"See you tomorrow, Y/N !" your manager says with a smile.

"Bye Subin !"

You wonder how someone can be so energetic after working for over ten hours. Actually, you don’t remember ever seeing your manager yawning or complaining at work. Is this what it’s like to be passionate about something?

No, Subin must’ve had some bad days. You probably just weren’t there to witness it. Still, you ponder over the possibility of loving something so much that your life feels like a peaceful adventure.

The more you think about it, the more you realize your own life feels peaceful. You follow the same routine every day —not planned by the minute but almost.

But something inside of you yearns for more. Everything feels bland and monotonous.

Your heart drops in your chest when you spot a large group of men leaning against a wall on your left. It’s the same thing every time you go home after a closing shift. You follow the same route and always pray that the street you take will be filled with other people so you can walk unseen.

Before you can walk past them, a figure pops in front of you, forcing you to halt your steps.

"Hey there."

You’re screwed, you know it. The man standing in front of you is tall and scars cover his bulky arms. You can spot a few tattoos on his fingers and one on his neck, he has to be part of a group of delinquents.

Myung is obsessed with some sort of ranking, you don’t remember the name of it, but you know Wolf is in it.

However you’ve never seen the boy in front of you so you know he doesn’t go to your school. If he isn’t some dropout, of course. Not that you would judge someone for dropping out, you just don’t see the appeal in fighting and spreading fear all over the city.

"Where are you going this late?"

Wait, is he seriously trying to have a conversation? Most of the time, the men whistle, say hello and go back to their business.

Whatever, you can just pretend you didn’t hear him and walk past him. What else can you do anyway?

You step aside and start walking but the man is quick to catch up and stands in front of you, again. Your heart is racing faster than ever at this point.

"Which school do you go to?" he asks with an awkward smile.

You frown at the contrast between his stance and his looks. He looks genuinely flustered, scratching the back of his head with a tiny smile on his face.

Nonetheless, you’re not interested and don’t plan on having a chat with him.

"Please, stop bothering me."

Your voice came out softly, almost pleading and you mentally curse for appearing so weak. You would give anything to be assertive and threatening when necessary.

Voices echoing from a nearby street and coming closer cause you to look over your shoulder.

"Yeah, no, it doesn’t matter how we get the files, I need them by the end of the week."

Wolf and Hwangmo walk towards you, both of them holding a beer can as Wolf lights a cigarette. Your presence in this street, so late at night, seems to spark their interest as they stop walking and eye you suspiciously.

Wolf’s attention lands on the man blocking your way before he looks back at you. Why are you here? He’s seen you walking this way a few times in the past, he knows you work in a coffee shop but you never stay in this area.

"I go to Yoosun."

Okay, now this man doesn’t know when to drop the ball apparently. Weren’t you clear enough earlier when you asked him to leave you alone? Maybe your voice was weak but your word choices were not.

That is when knowing how to fight could be a good asset because this man deserves a good beating for disturbing your schedule and messing up with your heart rate. Except, you don’t know how to fight. What a shocker.

"Y/N."

The way Wolf called out your name sends chills down your spine and your entire body shudders when you look back at the most feared delinquent from your school.

He is blowing some smoke, carelessly giving his beer can to Hwangmo as his eyes are locked on you, "Is he bothering you?"

That is when the man realizes who is standing a few feet away from him. Suddenly, his face turns white and his eyes drop to the floor, "Uh, no, n—no."

Really? All it takes for a man to leave you alone is for another man to show up? You know Wolf is feared amongst the crowd, it isn’t that surprising considering the way he ruthlessly fights, but what would’ve happened if Wolf and Hwangmo didn’t show up?

The man steps aside in a second and this becomes your last straw, "Wait, is this a joke?"

The three men perk up at your voice and Wolf smirks as he watches you stepping closer to the man with a finger pointed towards him, "I told you to leave me be and you didn’t want to!" You point your finger towards Wolf, "Now he shows up and you obey like a little puppy?"

You can feel the way the heat has reached your cheeks and how your fingers tremble from the anger and rush of adrenaline. Suddenly, it hits you. You’re screaming at a man you don’t know, in the middle of the street, at night.

What are you doing? This isn’t you, doing things like this doesn’t feel right. What if this man decides to follow you and make you pay for the humiliation? You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

You come to your senses and drop your hand down. Fixing the strap of your bag on your shoulder, you scratch your throat, "Whatever, just leave me alone."

Before the man can even breathe, you’re walking away, heart pounding in your chest and unaware that Wolf’s eyes followed you until your figure disappeared around the corner.

And Wolf gladly beat this guy to a pulp afterwards.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

"What?!"

The shriek coming out of Myung’s lips painfully rings in your ears and you hiss, shaking your hand to shush her down.

"Oh my god, you gotta be kidding me!" Myung exclaims, gesturing for your other friend Bongcha, "Girl, come here right now!"

You love Myung, you do. But you don’t understand why she’s freaking out like this. You were expecting her to look anxious when telling her what happened to you the night before. Instead, you spot a glimmer in her eyes and she carries that expression on her face, the one she has when she reads a good book or when her crush winks at her in the hallways.

When Bongcha stops in front of you two, Myung grabs her arm and leans forward, "Y/N’s the main character now."

Bongcha seems unimpressed and you shake your head in despair.

"We can change Wolf’s name and call him knight in shining armor."

You cringe at Myung’s words, "Please, don’t. He didn’t even do anything."

Myung shoves her phone in your face, showing you a webpage. It looks like a forum and the title says « Wolf Keum VS Yoosun prick ».

"So? He got into a fight, what a surprise."

Myung sighs, "With the guy who was harassing you last night."

Bongcha jumps in, "I don’t think he needs a reason to get into a fight."

"Thank you," you say, looking back at Myung, "You have to stop thinking everything is the beginning of a rom com."

"But I can see Wolf falling for a perfect student," Myung replies. "And you’ve known each other your whole lives!"

Myung’s face falls when neither you or Bongcha react. "Oh come on, you can’t say he doesn’t look hot too! All the girls have a crush on him!"

"Go after him if you think he is so hot."

Myung grimaces, "No, he is too popular. I wouldn’t like the lifestyle of being a leader’s girlfriend, I need my man to be a more discreet delinquent."

You chuckle at that and focus back on your notebook only for Myung to crouch down in front of you, "Y/N, don’t deny Wolf’s hot. I’m not asking you to go after him."

Now, it would be a lie to say Wolf isn’t attractive. Actually, you always thought he was rather cute and maybe, maybe, you’ve had a crush on him for a few years. But your crush dwindled with each of his fights until, eventually, he just became the personification of violence and chaos.

Your eyes meet with Myung’s, "I never said he wasn’t."

Myung squeals in excitement, saying something you can’t quite hear. But you know your best friend, you just need to let her imagine things until she starts obsessing over something else.

The rest of your day goes by smoothly until something rather strange happens during your shift at the coffee shop.

You have one hour left. No, actually, fifty eight minutes until you can finally go home, do some homework and crash in your bed.

Customers are rare at such an hour, the few that come around are here for a sweet treat after a long day at work or a shot of expresso before the beginning of their night shifts. There is a hospital right around the corner and nurses and doctors are amongst the coffee shop’s most loyal regulars after 7pm.

Today’s shift was rather calm, allowing you to work on an essay that you’d been postponing for a week.

The bell taped over the door chirps, signaling a new customer. You quickly place your notebook under the front desk and tug at the hem of your apron. Inside of your brain, you pray you don’t forget the sentence you were just about to write down for your essay.

"Hello— Oh!" Your voice cracks and the smile on your face vanishes when your eyes land on the customer.

Wolf.

He is standing right there, in front of you, still wearing his school uniform as his hands are clasped over a file holder tucked under his arm.

"Hello," he says, his eyes burning holes into your skin under his glasses.

You’ve been working in this café for two years, it is the very first time you’ve seen Wolf in there. Is he even a coffee person? You’ve always assumed he was more of an alcohol person. Well, it didn’t help to stumble upon him and his group of friends walking in and out of bars and clubs during the weekends.

You realize you’ve been frozen in your spot way too long when his mouth stretches into a tiny smirk and you cough awkwardly, "Hm, what can I get for you?"

Wolf hums, looking up to check the menu hanging on the wall behind you. His eyes linger for a few seconds before finding yours again, "Whatever you’d like."

Wait, what? Is this some sort of joke? What does he mean by that? The awkwardness clinging onto your skin morphs into distress and you blink, your eyes unable to part from Wolf’s.

His eyes are very pretty, you think. You don’t recall ever seeing him so close before. Well, actually there was one time. But you push the memory away. His glasses have slipped over the bridge of his nose and a tiny part of you really wants to reach forward and fix them for him.

Your heart jumps to your throat, what the hell is wrong with you? Oh, you will make Myung pay for planting a seed into your brain and talking you into admitting Wolf is good looking.

Wolf is a delinquent, part of a gang who fights and bullies people for money or whatever they do. You want nothing to do with him.

"It doesn’t help," you reply coldly. "A coffee, a tea, matcha?"

Wolf searches for your eyes but they’re focused on the large screen perched up on the counter separating you both. That is because, in the midst of your inner turmoil, you recalled something Myung told you once.

She was blabbering about her forum where all the delinquents were ranked and you were only half listening. Not that you didn’t care but she had been yapping for an hour at this point and you were done.

But she said one thing that stuck with you :

"Wolf has a three second rule."

"What’s that?"

"If someone keeps eye contact with him for three seconds or more, he fights them."

You’re pretty sure you almost broke the rule the moment you noticed how pretty his eyes looked. Damn, why would he come into the coffee shop? It’s not like he even knows what he wants to drink.

"Just make me your favorite drink," Wolf finally speaks.

Theory confirmed, he doesn’t know what he wants. You’re tempted to tell him that the only customers who ask to have your favorite drink are those who come back after asking for your number but you keep your mouth shut. You really don’t want to upset the man standing in front of you.

You pick your favorite drink on the screen and look up, "Wanna eat something with it?"

Wolf blinks, lips parting slightly at your question. You spot his eyes lowering on your face for a split second before he looks back at your eyes, "No, thanks."

"Here or to go?"

"Here."

Here? What the hell, you really don’t picture Wolf staying inside a café with a drink he didn’t even pick himself. Maybe you’re in the middle of a weird dream?

"Okay, I’ll bring your drink in a few," you say. "Come back to pay only if you liked it."

Wolf smirks wider this time and you internally curse. He is just going to pretend he hated the drink and you’ll have to pay for it. What a great news, you being forced to pay for a drink you won’t even get to enjoy.

You’re such a shrunken mess when you start preparing your favorite drink —a dirty chai latte, that you barely pretend to like your job when a few other customers come in to buy something on the go. You should have just made Wolf pay like you would do with every other customer hitting you with the very famous and unoriginal “make me your favorite drink”.

You barely glance at Wolf when you place the fuming cup in front of him, "There."

Some papers are splattered all over the table but you avert your attention quickly, definitely not interested in whatever Wolf does in his free time.

Instead, you go back behind the counter and pull out your notebook. You have an essay to write and it is definitely more important than to watch Wolf’s reaction to the drink.

Your essay is definitely more important. Then, why do you find yourself glancing at the purple haired boy sitting near a window as he slowly raises the cup towards his lips, leaning forward to smell.

You can sense hesitation in his demeanor, the way he waits a few seconds before taking the first sip. Damn it, why is your heart beating a little faster? Who cares if he doesn’t like the drink, you’ll pay for it and call it a day. You don’t even like the guy, actually, he is everything you hate.

You notice the way he blinks, his lips barely parting as if he just needed to take a larger breath. Fuck, why are you still looking at him? Might as well just put the money in the cash holder right now so you don’t forget before the end of your shift.

Wolf takes a bigger sip and releases a long breath before closing his eyes. That is when you tear your gaze away and try your best to focus on your essay. But you have to admit you completely forgot the sentence you wanted to write before Wolf walked in.

You’re minutes away from calling it a day and going home when Wolf pops up in front of you. He slides a bill on the counter, "For the drink."

Wait, he liked it? No, wait, he liked it and actually paid for it? You know that if you did that with someone else —anyone, they would jump on the opportunity to get a free drink. Even you would be tempted.

You blink and tear your gaze away from his eyes. You can’t forget the three second rule. But you wonder, would he fight a woman? He must’ve had pretty girls staring and throwing themselves at him, right?

Pretty girls… you almost laugh at yourself for putting yourself in this category. You don’t consider yourself bad looking but you don’t really see yourself shining amongst the crowd.

Oh god, can you just stop overthinking? What is wrong with you today? What if Wolf has girls throwing themselves at him day and night? He is a bad person and your crush on him was wiped off years ago, he can do whatever he wants.

"Thank you," you simply say.

You jump up in surprise when Subin walks out of his office, "Thank you for today, Y/N! Get home safe, I’ll see you next week!"

You can only nod, the words stuck in your throat as you were so focused on your thoughts you didn’t notice your manager’s presence until the last second.

These past two days were definitely too much for your heart to handle. You wonder if you forced these little unexpected things to happen when you thought about how bland your life could be sometimes.

Home. You have to get home. You have to stop thinking about Wolf, about Myung’s words, about everything that happened recently. There is no time for that on your agenda.

But you walk out of the coffee shop to see Wolf leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging between his lips. What is he waiting for?

Whatever, this is none of your business.

Except Wolf starts walking a few feet behind you. Your heart is racing and your mind is running wild. Shit, maybe you broke the three second rule and he is waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw you in a dark alley and beat the hell out of you.

Should you just run? No, you already know he is faster than you. Definitely because you aren’t very athletic. Maybe you should call Myung? Yeah, to tell her what? That Wolf came to your workplace, asked for your favorite drink and actually paid for it even though he was offered the opportunity to get it for free on a silver plater? Definitely not. You can already hear her yelling at you to turn around and ask him “what are we”.

You love your best friend but her obsession with romance can really blur her thinking abilities.

Before you know it, you reached the place where the Yoosun kid bothered you last night. And the said person is actually there, leaning against a wall with a very bruised face. You open your eyes wide at his injuries, did Wolf really beat him that hard?

Because last time you checked, Wolf had his usual bandages on his face but his skin remained perfectly untouched.

Another boy is standing next to the injured boy. Now, you’ve seen him before. He doesn’t go to your school but you’re sure Myung showed you a picture of him because he is definitely her type.

"Wolf," the boy states as he gets off of the wall.

"Jimmy."

Jimmy? Yeah, you definitely heard that name before. Oh damn, Myung is going to kill you if she finds out you were in the middle of another fight between two delinquents.

"You beat one of my boys."

Okay, so Jimmy goes to Yoosun. Maybe it’s time for you to pay more attention to the things Myung talks about.

You hear a snicker coming out of Wolf’s throat, "He didn’t tell you what he did last night?" He stops for a few seconds, "What? Are you gonna stay quiet, you little shit?"

Wolf definitely didn’t fight this guy because he was harassing you last night. Something else must’ve happened after you left.

The words coming out of Wolf’s mouth make you stop dead in your tracks, "Harassing her."

You shouldn’t turn around. It’s best for you to ignore what you just heard. Wolf used that as an excuse when you know he just wanted to get into a fight. This has absolutely nothing to do with you.

"Wait, is she your girlfriend?" Jimmy asks with curiosity.

"Yeah."

Now, you’re forced to spin on your heels to face the boy who just called you his girlfriend. Wolf’s eyes are already set on you, boring into yours as if to assess your reaction. But you’re just frozen on the ground, unable to process what just happened.

Fuck the three second rule, your eyes are locked on each other for much longer and he can come find you afterwards to fight you, you’ll find a way to hit him harder than any of his other opponents. What the hell is wrong with him?

The last interaction you’ve had with Wolf must’ve happened last year when he accidentally knocked you over when he was too busy chasing someone down the school halls. He did send you an apologetic look that day and it had been enough for you to move on with your day.

Today, even an apology wouldn’t be enough.

Jimmy grunts and lightly slaps the injured boy next to him, "Dude, not the girlfriends, you fucking idiot!"

Not the girlfriends? So, it’s okay to harass single women? You want to throw up at this point, men are such a lost cause.

"Apologize and we’re even," Wolf orders.

This is definitely a dream. You’re going to wake up in a few seconds and blame your brain for coming up with such an awful scenario, like seriously, couldn’t you just have a regular dream?

But the bruised boy sheepishly comes forward, stopping in front of you with his hands tied behind his back and his head dropped in shame, "I’m sorry."

You can’t help the grimace on your face, missing the way Wolf gloats watching the scene.

But what happens next is even worse. Wolf takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between you both and fixes the strap of your bag on your shoulder, "I have some stuff to deal with Jimmy, I’ll see you tomorrow."

Is your heart beating so fast you can feel it pulsing all over your body? Is this the beginning of a cardiac arrest? Because you find it hard to breathe, to think, to move. Why aren’t you repulsed by Wolf’s presence right next to you? Why did his fingers grazing over your shoulder feel so… warm?

No, you can’t let your imagination take over. You won’t let your brain fall into the realm of potential attraction and romantic possibilities. Wolf is a bad person, only using you as an excuse to explain his cruel ways.

If you recall correctly, Wolf is part of the largest gang in the city. And you’re pretty sure Yoosun students are a part of it as well. He only used you as an excuse to stay on good terms with Jimmy. For all you know, Jimmy is Yoosun’s top delinquent.

You’ll have to ask Myung tomorrow.

But Wolf’s eyes are still on you and, suddenly, you feel infinitely small. The heat that reached your body is burning your skin and tightening your throat.

You barely take a step back, nodding before you’re turning around and walking away with white dots covering your eyes.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

You didn’t find it within yourself to tell Myung what happened with Wolf. It was almost two weeks ago and, ever since, Wolf came in the coffee shop three more times.

Always one hour before the end of your shift, always ordering a dirty chai latte, always drinking it sitting at the same table, always waiting outside with a cigarette between his lips, always walking a few feet behind you until you would reach this one street —the one where you were bothered by the Yoosun kid, only then he would stop following you.

Tonight is no exception.

Wolf is right there, smoking a cigarette as you get out of the coffee shop and start your walk home.

You really want to tell him that he is acting like a creep, no, an actual psychopath. You don’t understand how his brain works to make it seem acceptable to follow someone around without ever opening his mouth.

He only speaks to you when he orders his drink, what’s the point of sticking around afterwards? It’s not like men bother you at every corner, you don’t need protection. Even though, you know Wolf doesn’t care about that.

You’re about to reach the street where he usually stops following you when you finally turn around, forcing Wolf to stop walking. His eyebrows raise in surprise and you cross your arms over your chest, "What’s wrong with you? Uh?"

A silence lingers between you both, broken by honks and the laughter of people passing by.

"Why’re you following me around?" you ask strongly.

Wolf shrugs, "I’m not. We just have the same route."

"Lies," you spit. "What do you want?"

The amused smile on Wolf’s features grows as he watches you fuming in annoyance. He thinks the frown on your face is pretty adorable, just like he likes the way you rapidly stomp your left foot on the ground.

But he is the one frowning now when he notices you never look at his eyes for longer than a couple of seconds, "Do I scare you?"

You grimace, responding too quickly for your own liking, "No!"

"Then, why do you look everywhere but in my direction?" Wolf asks, genuinely curious. "Mmh, or maybe I’m not good looking enough for you."

What is wrong with this guy? You never asked to have him following you around like a stalker. You can’t seem to understand what brings him into your workplace when he skips classes almost every day. Wouldn’t it be more interesting for him to go to the bar with his friends?

Wolf doesn’t know why he started counting. The way your eyes bore into his does something to him he isn’t familiar with. One, but he wants more. Two, it’s not like you’re unpleasant to look at. Quite the opposite, actually.

Before he can count to three, your eyes leave his face. And the realization hits him like a truck. A light chuckle escapes his lips, "The three seconds don’t apply to you."

You huff in annoyance, glaring at him once more, "Oh yeah? And why’s that? Because the fight would be too boring?"

You don’t even know why you just said that. What did he mean? Is he messing with you? Well, yes, of course, you can’t think of any logical reason to explain his behavior towards you.

"You’re too pretty to fight with."

Your heart clenches in your chest and your stomach twists so hard you wonder if you’re not just about to be sick. No, you shouldn’t let his words win you over, he is definitely messing with you. There is absolutely no way Wolf thinks you’re… pretty.

Fuck, why did such a delinquent have to look so pretty that you can feel your heart drumming in your ears and a blush warming your cheeks. No, no, no, just turn around and go home. He can look as handsome as humanly possible, he is still dangerous.

"Nice one, I wonder how many girls fell for it," you seethe.

Next thing you know, you’re walking away without looking back.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

"Please, Y/N! Please, please, please," Myung whines. "I am begging you! Just this once, I swear!"

Myung is quite literally begging you, on her knees with her hands clasped together abover her head. Apparently, she befriended a girl from Yoosun during her ceramics class and now she wants you and Bongcha to go to this party.

And you were right about Jimmy being Myung’s type because you perfectly recall the stars in her eyes when she mentioned he would be there. She shrugged it off like it was just a detail but she can’t fool you.

"Why do you need me there?" you grunt. "Bongcha said she’d go."

"I don’t need you, I want you to come," Myung corrects. "You need to let loose, you’re always studying or working."

It’s not that you hate parties, they’re okay. Sometimes. You just feel uncomfortable going to a party where you don’t know anyone. Well, besides your friends. And a part of you fears you’d stumble into Jimmy and that he would recognize you. What if he says something? Myung would definitely kill you.

"Please…"

You sigh, knowing Myung isn’t actually giving you a chance to refuse. You have to come clean and tell her everything. You don’t even know how you kept all of this to yourself for so long.

"Okay—" you barely said the word that Myung is jumping up and down with a loud shriek. You grab her arm, "Stop, stop. Please sit down and listen to me."

Myung complies, sitting on the edge of your bed with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. You give her two minutes before her smile disappears and turns into a glare with what you’re about to tell her.

"Okay so I have some things to tell you," you start. "Please, don’t interrupt me and… don’t kill me."

When you live your house to go to the party, Myung is still yapping about what you told her. Luckily for you, she didn’t get mad. You think it’s because you provided her with the most unexpected rom com scenario but you’re not so sure about it.

"He is so into you!" Myung squeals, "This is even better than in the movies!"

"No, he is not, he’s just messing with me because he thinks it’s funny."

Myung and Bongcha share a knowing look, "You’re definitely not people smart, Y/N."

"Wait, do you really think someone like Wolf would be into me? You sound ridiculous."

"Actually, I have to agree with Myung right now," Bongcha joins in. "Just take a second to think about it. First, he gets into a fight with the Yoosun guy after he caught him messing with you."

"You agreed with me when we said he didn’t need any excuse to get into fights!" you fume.

Bongcha nods, "Yeah, but that was before he started coming into the coffee shop and calling you his girlfriend!"

Bongcha has a point but you don’t recall Wolf ever being into a relationship before. Well, you assume it’s happened because of all the girls who have a crush on him. But you don’t see why he would be into you. You out of all people.

You’re… normal. Definitely above average when it comes to school but you know that’s not something boys are interested in. They want the prettiest girl. And you don’t see Wolf being into someone like you. Because he is definitely out of your league.

Myung lets out a loud shriek and Bongcha’s lips crack into a playful smile.

Shit, did you just say that out loud? What the hell is wrong with you? Okay, Wolf might be very nice to look at but this quality can’t erase all his flaws. He is bad news and you don’t need that type of energy around you.

"I knew you had a crush!" Myung cheers, joyfully jumping up and down on the curb. "I remember how you freaked out when you were paired with him on that science project, I knew it, I knew it!"

You groan, "That was years ago, can you just drop it."

"Never!" Myung retorts, "How could I ever when I know you have a crush!"

You feel like you could dig a hole in the ground and bury yourself in it. Why are you so weak that just a few interactions with Wolf were enough to throw you back in time and revive the crush you had on him years ago? Are you really that weak? That desperate for any romantic trope?

Maybe you just need to look at another guy, any guy (as long as he’s not a delinquent), and your supposedly crush on Wolf will vanish quicker than it ever reappeared.

A light slap to the back of your head brings you out of your thoughts with a bang, "Ow! What was that for?!"

Bongcha doesn’t look sorry for the hit, "For saying he’s out of your league."

"Yeah!" Myung growls. "You’re gorgeous!"

You hum half-heartedly, deciding it’s best for you to stop fighting them. They’re your best friends, of course they will cheer you up and praise you. But does it really matter when you know Wolf is only messing with you because he must find it fun for the time being?

It’s only a matter of time before Wolf grows bored of this little game and goes back to ignoring your existence altogether.

The house is packed when you walk in with Bongcha and Myung. Music is loudly blasting and you’re quite sure you can see the walls vibrating because of the volume. People are screaming, singing and dancing in every corner, you can already feel your incoming migraine.

Why did you agree to come in the first place? Oh yeah, because your best friend can’t take no for an answer.

You don’t even ask Myung the content of the plastic cup she forcefully puts in your hands. One sip and you know it’s beer. You’re not really a fan but it’s better than the spiked punch sitting in a giant bowl in the kitchen.

Minutes pass by and you’ve already hit your socializing quota. You aren’t one for partying endlessly, even less for making small talk with people you won’t ever see again.

Myung is too busy looking for a certain orange haired boy and Bongcha is nailing a beer pong game as you feel your phone buzzing in your hand.

It’s an instagram notification.

You can feel all the color draining out of your face when you open the app.

KSJ liked your post.

You know that account. Wolf’s. It’s no secret that Wolf follows you on your socials. He’s been following you for a few years now.

But you never thought much of it since it was originally to keep in touch when you were paired together for school work. News flash, you always did all the work.

Now, you don’t post often on instagram and barely pay attention to the people who like your content. Last time you posted something was three days ago, how come he only likes it now?

You don’t want to let your brain imagine it’s because he stalked your account. First, because that’s just weird. Second, because he doesn’t have a crush on you. Plain and simple.

The only logical explanation is that he didn’t use instagram for three days and only saw your last post now. Still, it feels weird that he would go and like it. But before you can go deeper in your thoughts, a loud cheer makes you look up.

Jimmy is standing a few feet away, a finger pointed at you, "Hey! That’s Wolf’s girl!"

Wolf’s girl… You never expected to be called like that in your life. But you can’t ignore the way your heart skips a beat, well, you can only admit the defeat against yourself. Maybe your crush for Wolf never really left.

Fuck, you can’t let it settle in your heart. Double fuck, people you don’t even know think you two are dating.

You force a tiny smile, "Hi."

"That fucker couldn’t even come around by himself, he had to send his girlfriend," Jimmy chortles, causing a few of his friends to laugh. "I can’t fucking believe him."

He couldn’t come around by himself? What the hell is he talking about?

Jimmy pulls out his phone, quickly typing on his screen before his eyes flicker toward you, "You know I could take your boyfriend down any day, uh?"

The confusion turns into a frown. What does that have to do with you? And why should you care? Also, does Jimmy really think it’s impressive to flaunt his fighting skills? It makes him look ridiculous.

Jimmy’s phone is on speakers and you can hear a ringtone. Is he calling Wolf? And where are Myung and Bongcha when you need them? Coming here was a bad idea, you’ll make sure to remind Myung next time she tries to drag you to a random party.

Wait, wait. Did Jimmy say he could take Wolf down? Okay, you have to confess now. Maybe, maybe, you checked Myung’s forum one night when you couldn’t sleep.

Wolf’s voice echoes through the speaker right when you remember an information that invalidates Jimmy’s certitude, "What the fuck do you want, Jimmy?"

"Last time I checked, Wolf was ranked higher in the Shuttle Patch," you say calmly before you shrug. "Well, except if the ranking changed overnight."

Jimmy’s friends gasp, some of them laughing so hard they fold in half.

Jimmy, on the other hand, sends you a death glare. Chills run down your spine but what can you say? The informations you read seemed accurate and it looks like this guy needs to be put in his place. You can’t fight him with your fists but a few facts can definitely do the job.

Jimmy’s lips tremble before he focuses his attention on his phone, "Your girl’s pissing me off. I don’t know what you’re trying to do man but you better fix your shit before I send her back to you with a broken leg."

Well, you’re screwed. Oh how fun is it to be involved with gang members. You really want to kill Myung for dragging you here but you want to kill Wolf even more for pretending you’re dating. What was he thinking? If you ever wondered if he was smart before, you definitely have your answer.

He has to be the most stupid person on this planet and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t care one bit that Jimmy wants to see you get out of this house with a crushed bone. And why did you even open your mouth? Couldn’t you just do what you always did, stay quiet? No, you had to provoke him as if you didn’t stand on an enemy’s land.

Well, technically, Yoosun and Ganghak work together but you know they aren’t exactly friends.

"Got more things to say, smart mouth?" Jimmy taunts as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

Fuck, you are so screwed. There is no way you’ll talk your way out of this. You’re facing Jimmy and all of his friends, your own friends completely out of reach. Where the hell are they?

"Oh my god, girl, I love your dress," a familiar voice cooes. "Ugh, where did you get it? I’m obsessed!"

Myung grabs your arm, eyeing you up and down as if she didn’t help you pick your outfit two hours ago. But you quickly connect the dots. She is literally saving you from the situation you’re in. Did she hear everything Jimmy just said?

Myung turns to look at the boys and bats her lashes, "Sorry boys, gotta steal her for a bit. Girl talk!"

Before Jimmy can say anything, Myung drags you down the hall and locks you both in the bathroom. She turns around with a shocked look, "What the fuck was that?"

You’re a shivering mess, "I don’t fucking know! Fuck, he said he wanted to break—"

"Your leg! I know I heard!" Myung interrupts, "What a fucking asshole!"

"I need to get out of here!"

You really don’t want a party to turn into a visit to the hospital. Oh, you’ll make Myung and Wolf pay for this so hard. But that’s not your priority right now.

Myung stops pacing and turns to look at you, "The window."

"What?"

Myung opens the bathroom window, "Get out through the window."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious," Myung says. "Get out, I’ll distract them."

Do you even have another option right now? Because walking out of the bathroom means risking another encounter with Jimmy. Still, climbing out of a house through a window? Isn’t this thing only happening in badly written movies?

Is there even a movie where characters escape a place through a window?

"Holy shit!" Myung sputters, shaking her phone in front of your face. "Wolf is here!"

It’s a text from Bongcha asking where you both are, that Wolf just showed up and is looking pissed.

Wolf is here? What is going on? The dream is lasting too long for your own liking. Who’s even in charge of the script because you need to have a little chat with them.

"Y/N!"

Myung yelps and your heart drops as soon as you recognize Wolf’s voice loudly echoing in the house. Can someone actually scream that loud?

Myung forcefully shoves you towards the door, expression torn between fear and excitement. You know she lives for the plot and you’re definitely providing her with a great show, "He’s so into you, girl! Ugh, just go!"

Your fingers slightly shake when they wrap around the doorknob. Wolf is standing in the middle of the living room, a hand latched on Jimmy’s shirt, eyes scanning the whole place. When they land on you, you feel smaller than ever before.

Wolf eyes you up and down, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than usual before he looks back at Jimmy, "Touch her and I kill you."

That’s the perfect opportunity to leave this place. So you take it. Walking past the crowd, you easily escape the house with your heart drumming in your ears and the cold wind clinging to your skin.

"Hey, Y/N!" Wolf yells as he runs out of the house right after you.

He actually showed up after Jimmy threatened you. Why? Do you really want to know?

"No thank you?" Wolf laughs.

You turn around with a glare, "No, I’m not thanking you! You created this, it’s your fault."

"Oh yeah? But I’m not the one who decided to go to a Yoosun party, am I?"

You want to rip that smirk off his face, take his glasses off and break them in half. You’d even dare kicking him between the legs.

"Should I remind you you’re the one who said we were dating?" you spit back. "It’s not funny messing with people like that! Maybe you’re bored with your life but find someone else to do that with, okay?"

Wolf’s smile vanishes, "I don’t plan on finding someone else."

"Why?!" you grunt annoyingly, "Any girl would gladly pretend to be your girlfriend. Seriously, Wolf."

"But I’m into you."

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Wolf just said this so casually, as if he was talking about the weather. His gaze is unwavering, stuck on your face and he barely blinks.

He huffs at your lack of reaction, "Come on now, don’t act so shocked. It’s pretty old news."

"Old news?" you repeat with a grimace. "You’re unbelievable, what the fuck’s wrong with you."

Wolf shrugs, "You can ask around, I’ve liked you for a while. Whatever, you can reject me, it won’t change a thing."

Wolf likes you. Is this real life? Absolutely not. You don’t even understand why Wolf would like you out of all people. You were never even friends? How can you like someone you don’t even know?

"This isn’t funny, Wolf," you mutter.

"Oat milk latte is your second favorite drink, you like french poetry and did competitive fencing up until last year," Wolf spills out. "I know because I attended one of your competitions and you beat one of my old friends. We were still kids at the time."

What the actual hell? How can he know all of that?

"You should get back into it, you were really good," Wolf points out. "You want to open an animal shelter when you’re older and become a therapist."

Holy shit, what is happening? There is actually no way Wolf just made this up and was right on absolutely everything. How could he have found out all of this about you anyways? It’s not like you spill your life on social media, rather the opposite.

"What the fuck?" you blurt.

"Believe me now?" Wolf asks calmly as he walks towards his bike. He lights a cigarette, throwing you a look. "Need a ride home, I guess?"

You can’t process what’s happening. Wolf likes you. Wolf has liked you for a long time. How long? Were there signs? Are you actually dreaming?

If this is a dream, you don’t know if you want to wake up yet. Because going back to your regular, bland life will be painful. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the butterflies in your stomach and your heart racing in your chest.

Wolf chuckles, stretching his arm to give you a helmet, "You’re cute."

You don’t even think before putting the helmet on your head and sitting behind Wolf on his bike.

Little do you know Wolf’s heart is racing incredibly fast when you place your hands on his waist, he can’t fucking believe he just confessed after picking you up at a Yoosun party. It definitely wasn’t part of his original plan to win you over.

When Wolf drops you off in front of your apartment complex, the migraine that was threatening to settle in your skull because of the party vanished to be replaced by a plethora of questions.

Wolf slides forward on his seat, allowing you to get off the bike. He can’t ignore the way his heart skips a beat when he notices your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair when you give him his helmet.

"For how long?" you ask without thinking.

He cocks his head to the side in confusion, "What?"

You cough awkwardly, "For how long did you… like me?"

Wolf smiles, letting out a tiny laugh. You’ve never heard him laugh like this before. It sounds too nice in your ears.

"That’s a question for another time," Wolf replies as he puts the helmet on his head. "Good night, Y/N."

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

Something weird is going on inside the halls of Ganghak. You literally just set one foot inside the school that everybody stopped what they were doing to look at you.

Whispers echo and travel around you, sizzling in your ears. Girls stare at you with daggers in their eyes and the boys look away in shame whenever you make eye contact with them.

Your phones buzzes in your hand. It’s a text from Myung.

myung 👑

girlllll everybody knows what happened this weekend at the party!!!!

they all think you and wolf are dating 🥹😍🧎🏻‍♀️

also wolf dropped something on your desk im fucking SCREAMING

WHERE TF ARE U ITS GONNA GET COLD

It’s going to get cold? What is she talking about? You ignore the insisting stares as you walk further into the school, now understanding better why you suddenly seem to have become the school’s main character.

But, once again, the whole classroom turns around when you walk inside the room.

You have to contain an eye roll when you spot Myung’s ecstatic expression plastered on her face as she points a finger at your desk.

There is a cup on your desk with Wolf’s name scribbled on it. You don’t need more clues to figure out he must have stopped by a coffee shop and ordered you a coffee. Your heart can’t take it anymore. You’re not made to handle so many things happening, especially when they aren’t part of your usual routine.

Everything feels confusing as you sit down, removing the lid of the cup to take a look at the beverage. The smell hits you instantly. A dirty chai latte.

You wonder if your heartbeats will ever slow down at some point or if you’ll be stuck in this half-panicked, half-overwhelmed state for the rest of your life. Were you feeling all of these emotions the last time you crushed on someone?

Wait, who was your last real crush? Oh yeah, a transfer student who ended up being a total dickhead.

But you know by the way your heart races and your stomach twists that this crush on Wolf feels stronger. You know you’re screwed. He didn’t even need to try so hard for you to fall right back in the trap.

And you know he is bad news. He constantly skips school (but always manages to get good grades), ruthlessly fights with whoever dares to provoke him and takes part in illegal activities.

But all it takes is for him to confess he likes you and buys you your favorite drink and now you’re head over heels for him? Honestly, you’re cringing at yourself. It’s like, in the blink of an eye, you became the very unlikeable main character of a romantic movie who’s so blinded by her own feelings she ignores all the red flags.

Also, another part of you still has a hard time believing everything that’s happening. You’re aware this isn’t a dream, you’ve made peace that your life just took a strange turn in just a few days. But is Wolf really serious? Sometimes, you wonder if he’ll just look at you one day and laugh until his sides hurt, tears start spilling from his eyes before confessing all of this was just a prank.

Still, with everything he told you last time, you feel like he wouldn’t put so much effort into a prank. But is Wolf capable of loving someone else? He seems so full of… anger and pain. And do you want to let someone like him into your life? Is it really worth it?

All your questions melt into a puddle when you spot Wolf on his bike when you make it to the coffee shop after school.

He isn’t wearing the school uniform, instead a pair of loose black slacks and a black tee shirt. The outfit is simple but it looks way too good on him.

"Hi," you breathe out, readjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

"Hi," he replies. "I’m taking you out for a bite after your shift. I’ll pick you up."

As in a date? Tonight? You’re about to burst on the curb, your heart can’t keep up with everything that’s happening.

"Uh… yeah, okay."

If anyone else would have offered you a date on the spot on a school night, you would’ve said no in a heartbeat. Wolf didn’t offer, more so imposed it and you agreed in the blink of an eye. Did he cast a spell for you to be so weak?

Wolf flashes you a quick smile and turns on the engine on his bike, "Okay, wait for me here!"

You are so starstruck you barely remember your shift. You just know Myung and Bongcha want a detailed story time once you’re home and that Subin asked if the purple haired boy was your boyfriend.

The idea of dating Wolf still seems very strange to you. You can’t deny the crush you have but you know nothing about him.

All you know is that he loves to skip school, loves to fight (and is apparently very good at it) and is part of a gang called the Union. But everybody knows that.

What can you even ask him? You feel like the real things you’re interested in are going to be touchy subjects. What if he storms off or loses control? What if you have nothing to talk about and the silence is awkward?

When you walk out of the coffee shop, you’re a nervous mess with a racing heart and sweaty palms. Wolf had asked you to wait for him but he is already there, smoking a cigarette that he throws on the ground the moment his eyes land on you. He wipes his hands on his thighs and quickly grabs his helmet, handing it to you.

"I hope your shift wasn’t too boring without me around," he says playfully.

You raise an eyebrow, "Don’t get too cocky, Wolf."

"I know you like having me there."

"All you do is sit down and drink in silence," you retort as you put on the helmet. "For all I know you come over just to force me to make a drink I can’t have when you know it’s my favorite."

Wolf’s grin gets bigger on his face, "Wasn’t the one I brought you this morning good enough for you?"

Touché. It was a really good drink, even more so because it was unexpected and… free of charge. You have the habit of making yourself a drink during your shifts but knowing someone else paid it for you gave it an even better taste.

And your heart tingles at the simple thought of Wolf going into a coffee shop to buy you your favorite drink and dropping it by your desk before leaving the school altogether.

No, you have to stay focused. You glare at the boy sitting on the bike, "You’re not winning me over with free drinks."

"Wait, Y/N, please remind me," Wolf pretends to think, scratching his head. "Who agreed to go on a date with me?"

He knows what he’s doing. Oh, he knows. Because your heart speeds (yes, again) and you can feel your cheeks warming up.

You slap his arm, making him chuckle, and you step back, "I could go home right now."

Wolf reacts quickly, leaning forward to grab a hold of your wrist. His hand feels soft on your skin, "No, no."

But you know you aren’t going home. Your heart is skipping beat after beat with the way you can bicker together so playfully when, a month ago, you would make it your mission to ignore his presence at school.

Does it mean Wolf’s attention was on you all this time and you never once noticed?

The restaurant he picked is on the fancier end. Not extra fancy but it’s not a place you would consider if you wanted to go out for a bite with your friends. Or maybe to celebrate a birthday.

You look up at Wolf with wide eyes after checking the prices on the menu, "Wait, but you’re like rich rich!"

Wolf notices the slight embarrassment on your face and, even if he knew you were a perfect match for him a long time ago (he just needs you to realize it), it makes him like you even more.

Wolf isn’t a fan of dating. He dabbled into it a little bit and was always, always, turned off by the girls who easily assumed he would pay for the fanciest dates. He doesn’t mind spending money on him and others. He does it all the time. He knows he won’t take cash with him in the grave.

But he doesn’t want to date someone who only dreams of a luxurious lifestyle.

You let out a sigh as you check the prices once more, "Fuck, but I can’t pay for that."

Only you were meant to hear that. But your muffled whisper still reached Wolf’s ears, "You’re not paying. I am."

"I can’t let you pay for everything!" you let out in a high pitched voice.

"I asked you out, I pay."

You tilt your head to the side, "That’s very old school mentality."

Wolf shrugs, "I don’t care."

"Whatever, next time, I’m the one paying," you say confidently. But your confidence dwindles immediately and you gulp, "But I can’t afford to come to this type of place."

Wolf is smirking now, gaze locked on you, unwavering as he keeps his mouth shut. Fuck, why is he looking at you like that? What can you say, you work part time in a coffee shop, of course you can’t compete with a boy who’s involved in illegal activities.

"W—What?"

"So, there’s gonna be a next time, uh?"

You roll your eyes, covering your face with both hands, "Shut up."

He chuckles, "I’m very okay with the idea."

To your surprise, dinner went by so smoothly you both talked endlessly, never giving enough time for silence to settle in. And when you would both savor your food, the dreaded silence was actually… very pleasant.

You caught Wolf’s eyes on you way too many times to count and when you thought he would tear his gaze away in embarrassment, he would just stare at you with the ghost of a smile growing on his lips the more the blush would spread on your cheeks.

Now you’re both standing outside the restaurant, Wolf leaning against his bike as you eye him with a smile you can no longer contain.

"Thank you, Wolf," you say. "I had a great time."

He lets out a relaxed breath when he hears your voice, a smile creeping up on his face, "Me too."

Your attention lands on the couple standing a few feet away, as a child is looking at you with wide eyes. When you look at the little boy, he breaks into a big smile. You can’t help but smile back, waving your hand at him, "Hi there!"

The little boy shakes his hand before covering his face with the other one, smiling even wider. You could just melt right there and then.

The mother seems to notice and looks at you with an apologetic expression, "Oh, I’m sorry, he does that with some girls." She crouches down and rubs his hair, "Okay, honey, let’s go home!"

But the child can’t tear his gaze away from you, waving his hands and shooting you warm smiles. Wolf looks at him and shakes his head knowingly, "Ah, she’s pretty, uh?"

The boy shyly nods, both intimidated and hypnotized by Wolf’s purple hair and deep gaze. Wolf laughs at the child, "I know, I know. But I can’t let you steal her away from me."

You, on the other hand, are on the verge of fainting. This simple interaction between Wolf and a little boy is enough to throw all dignity to the ground and kiss your date right there and then.

But you simply sit down behind him on his bike and try your hardest to slow your heart down when he drives you home.

And, even if a part of you wishes you would have kissed Wolf tonight, you appreciate even more that Wolf didn’t try to kiss you when you parted ways in front of your apartment complex.

You have just enough time to take a shower and slip under your bedsheets that you receive a notification on your phone.

KSJ dmed you.

You open the app with butterflies in your chest and trembling fingertips.

KSJ

so you said you were paying next time

when and where?

Does he like you so much that he barely gets home from the first date and immediately wants to plan the second one?

Isn’t all of this just a very long dream? You can’t even hate yourself anymore for wanting all of this to be your reality. You can’t hate yourself for falling right back into your old crush.

Y/N

eager much?

next friday i’ll send you the place

Wolf answers almost instantly.

KSJ

don’t forget to forget your wallet

The laughter that escapes your throat is loud and your hand flies to your mouth, praying you didn’t awake your parents.

The instant fear is immediately forgotten, replaced by a stupid grin on your face.

Honestly, you’re pretty sure you fell asleep smiling like an idiot.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

You’ve been smiling like an idiot during the whole week, actually. It’s like you’ve been transported above the clouds and get to experience the most amazing dream in your real life.

It’s like you can almost touch the stars with your feet still planted on the ground.

You’ve been texting Wolf almost every day this week, talking about anything and everything. Some mornings, he even stopped by your place to drive you to school.

If people weren’t whispering loud enough in the hallways, now that was all you could hear.

KSJ

tried this coffee place this morning

* picture attached *

gross

never go there

You catch yourself letting out a slight giggle inside the school’s bathroom stall. Something inside of you yearns for casual messages like these. You never thought Wolf could be like this. And if you weren’t hooked before, you definitely are now.

Y/N

rookie mistake

lamest place in seoul

i hope you threatened the boss for a refund

KSJ

ayyyy y/n!

so you want me to fight?

didn’t know you liked that about me

Y/N

🙄🙄🙄🙄

pls dont fight over a coffee

KSJ

okay princess

btw can we say 8.30 tonight?

i have something to do before and idk if i’ll be out on time to be there at 8

You ignore the way your heart jumps in your throat at the nickname. Wolf will be the death of you.

Y/N

yeah 8.30 is all good

KSJ

perfect !

see you tonight

You’ll never say this to anyone (or maybe Myung if she really insists) but you’ve planned your outfit for tonight… three days ago. With each passing day, you realize you’re really living the life of the main character in any romantic comedy.

You fall asleep thinking about Wolf, sometimes he pops up in your dreams and you wake up just before you two can share a kiss, you wake up all giddy and excited for the day even if you don’t see him. You feel more energetic at school and work, yet, you don’t remember anything except the texts exchanged with Wolf and the butterflies in your stomach when he visits you at work or drops a cup of coffee on your school desk.

Tonight can’t come soon enough but your happiness takes a sour taste in your mouth when you hear the voices of some girls in the school’s bathroom.

"I’m sure Wolf’s just messing with Y/N," a first girl says firmly.

A few girls giggle before a new voice speaks, "Right?! Like, she’s so plain."

"Not even the prettiest girl in the school."

"You meant in her class, uh?"

The laughters that fill the room come piercing through your heart like a knife. You know they are just being extremely jealous. You know you aren’t the prettiest girl in the school, not even in your class. You know that.

But you just started believing that Wolf really likes you for more than your looks. You wanted to trust you could be more than all of that.

"It has to be for a bet or something," another girl speaks. "He’ll throw her away when he’s bored."

"Yeah, next week!"

Finally, the girls exit the bathroom in a choir of laughter and you release the pained breath you’ve been holding in for a few minutes.

You can’t let them get into your head. They’re jealous, they’re jealous, they’re jealous. Wolf likes you. He said it multiple times. He texts you. Not them. He thinks you’re pretty. Tonight, he is going on a date with you. He showed up to a Yoosun party for you. Not them.

You spend the whole day reminding yourself of all the things Wolf did and said, pushing away all the negative thoughts.

At the end of the day, right before 8.30, as you’re about to push the door of the little jazz club, you listen to the voice message Myung sent you.

– okay babe, tonight’s the night. it’s the night where you make us proud. us, the lovers of love, us, the bad boy and top student trope lovers. and ugh, that DRESS, he’s gonna walk in and pass out! i love you, have fun and please, please, please kiss him! it’s been going on way too long, i’m begging you!

You like the message and reply with a few heart emojis before you finally walk in the bar. Immediately, you’re hit with the sweet notes of wood and musc —probably the scent of the place, and the pleasant music of the live band playing on the small stage.

Taking a seat at the bar, you politely greet the bartender, signaling that you are waiting for someone before ordering.

A few people are gathered in booths, sitting in front of each other or softly dancing near the stage. Dimmed lights, old paintings scattered on the walls, burgundy leather booths and green carpets create a very cozy atmosphere. You like that there is music but just enough that you don’t need to yell if you want to speak with someone.

The first few minutes, your eyes stay near the bar’s front door, expecting Wolf to walk in at any moment. You did expect him to show up a little after the said time, he did have something to do before.

But when fifteen minutes go by and he isn’t here, you pull out your phone and open instagram.

Y/N

i’m seated at the bar btw

You keep the conversation open for a few seconds but he doesn’t open the message. No big deal, he is probably on his bike and can’t check his phone.

Another fifteen minutes go by.

Y/N

is everything okay?

seen

Your heart jumps up when you notice Wolf just opened your message. Suddenly, the three dots appear, meaning he is currently typing. He must’ve been held up, probably something to do with the Union.

The three dots disappear.

You start counting. One, did he delete his message? Two, you can feel your throat tightening in apprehension. Three, the dots didn’t pop up again, Wolf must’ve closed the conversation.

And you wait and wait and wait, forced to order a random drink not to be the customer who walks in and doesn’t get anything even though she knows she’s probably being stood up by her date.

The voices of the girls in the bathroom earlier that day inevitably invade your mind. Oh, you didn’t want to believe them this morning, instead choosing to blame their jealousy, but they would be laughing at you if they were here. Even you want to laugh at yourself.

You don’t know what’s going on with Wolf. Maybe something very serious is going on. But how come he can check his phone then? You really want to believe there is an explanation but you can no longer stop the intrusive thoughts.

It’s 9.30 when you leave the bar with the feeling of the bartender’s eyes trailing behind you. There was a hint of pity in his gaze.

Maybe Wolf stumbled upon the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on his way to the date. Maybe she was so beautiful he wiped you off his head in an instant. Maybe he realized you weren’t so special in the end and that he didn’t want to waste more time with you. Or maybe you were just a joke, a distraction.

Your walk home is as dull as one can be after falling off your perched position above the clouds.

You wish you would’ve listened to yourself in the first place. Wolf is a delinquent. Unreliable. Everything you’re not and everything you don’t want. You should’ve never confronted him weeks ago when he started randomly following you after work.

You were just a prey, a toy to satisfy his desire for action.

And you hate yourself for allowing the tears on your cheeks to melt with the hot water streaming on your body when you take your shower after making it home. Why does it feel so painful to be deceived by someone you never actually dated? And why can’t you just go back to how you felt before?

You don’t need love in your life, it’s not a goal for you. You have your friends and that’s enough. Any girl can have Wolf if they want to, you don’t want him. He was messing with you, he was messing with you, he was messing with you.

The prospect of binge watching your favorite tv show under your bedsheets is barely comforting but you’ll take anything to stop your thoughts.

Your heart clenches when you check your phone.

KSJ

my meeting took longer than planned

we’ve had big issues to deal with

i tried texting but i couldn’t

KSJ

i dont see you at the bar

did you leave already?

KSJ

three missed calls

KSJ

im in front of your place

i’ll wait for you

The butterflies in your stomach at the sight of all these messages are soon crushed by something else. Wolf was in a meeting. With the Union, certainly. Now, you aren’t surprised that what he had to do before your (canceled) date was related to that. But there is something you immediately notice.

He doesn’t apologize in his texts.

Isn’t that the first thing someone should do in a situation like this? You know for a fact you would be begging the other person to forgive you if you ever pulled something like that.

And you know Wolf has a big ego. He literally fights anyone who looks at him for over three seconds. Can you be with someone who doesn’t know how to say sorry?

Your answer is clear. No, you can’t.

Wolf tries to call you a few more times but you never pick up. He can find someone who’s more compliant, this person isn’t you.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

The dreaded meeting with Wolf happens the following Monday morning, when you arrive in front of the school.

You ignored his texts during the whole weekend, endlessly fighting against yourself not to get out of your apartment whenever he mentioned he was downstairs and wanted to talk to you.

You’ve been petty, you know that. But maybe it’s for the best if you just stop giving him the time of day. You two are way too different. You don’t think you have it in you to constantly wait for him to be done with his job with the Union, only to clean his scars and exchange a few words before you have to part ways for the night.

And what can he really offer you if he can’t keep his word nor can he apologize? He can definitely find someone better for the job, someone who will thrive with the fast paced and dangerous life of a delinquent.

Wolf stands up from his laidback position against his bike when he sees you walking in his direction.

Myung and Bongcha give you an encouraging look as Myung grabs your wrist, "I know you have all the reasons to ignore him but… at least listen to what he has to say."

You nod, aware that you can’t just walk past him when he is right there, eyes stuck on you. You notice he lets out a long breath.

"And communicate," Bongcha joins in. "He can’t guess what goes on in your head."

Your heart is drumming like crazy in your chest when you finally reach him. If only he wasn’t so nice to look at, if only you could slow your heartbeats knowing he tried to reach out to you all weekend, knowing he is there on a Monday morning.

You notice the bloodied scars on his knuckles and another one on his brow. It’s easy to guess what delayed him on Friday night must’ve been a fight with another gang.

"Hi," you say.

"You’re alive," Wolf tries to say playfully but his voice holds something calmer. Like he doesn’t know how to speak to you right now.

You only nod, biting your lower lip in expectation, gaze tearing away to focus on the swamp of students walking inside Ganghak.

"Let me make it up to you," Wolf offers, growing frustrated that your eyes seem to ignore his presence. "I’m picking you up after school."

Still no apology.

"I can’t," you reply in a heartbeat.

Wolf isn’t stupid. He knows he messed up. He knows you can’t be bought with coffees, a fancy dinner and flowers. And he knows you’re saying no because you don’t want to. Not because you can’t.

"I really didn’t think the meeting would take that long," Wolf explains calmly but his mind is running wild. "Then a fight happened and I couldn’t back down."

You sigh, "It’s not about that, honestly."

Wolf frowns at your words. He doesn’t understand what could make you ignore him if it isn’t related to what happened on Friday night.

"I get that you have your thing with the Union, it’s your life and I can only imagine it can get very hectic," you speak. "But… you never apologized, Wolf."

Wolf remains silent, feeling like he was hit by a truck. Wolf isn’t one to apologize. He never does because he is never wrong. Well, never until right now.

"I waited an hour for you," you continue. "The least you could do is say sorry."

Wolf doesn’t apologize. Usually, he accepts the defeat in silence and looks at his opponent with a newly found form of respect.

But you’re not an opponent, you’re the girl he’s been pining over for years. Like a lame and weak man unable to stop the growing feelings. And, funnily enough, he was never once ashamed.

It took him some time to understand why he was feeling so… weird around you. When it hit him, he knew he couldn’t just pretend what he was feeling could be ignored. He just needed to plan the way he would get closer to you.

When Wolf doesn’t budge, lips parted and stunned expression plastered on his face, you let out a sigh and take a step back, "I have to go. Bye, Wolf."

Wolf is forced to watch you leave, disappearing inside the Ganghak’s facility.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

Wolf vanishes from your life after that.

You don’t see him at school, you don’t see him at the coffee shop, you don’t see him and his group of friends gathered on the terrace of a bar at night.

It’s been a week and Wolf just disappeared.

But your heart and mind can’t seem to follow along, instead replaying the moments you shared with him over and over again.

And for what? It’s not like you two ever dated. But you know it’s because your old crush was brought back to flames overnight. Because Wolf likes you (if he ever did, you were never sure) and because you thought, maybe, something could’ve happened between you two.

You’re brought back to reality with Myung’s hands squishing your cheeks, "Earth to Y/N!"

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Wolf is here!"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the boy who never seems to leave your mind. Why are you freaking out? And when will it all end?

It’s like the universe decided to take your bland life and turn it into a movie.

It’s Friday night, Myung and Bongcha decided to drag you to a party hosted by Soohee, a girl from your class, as if they both forgot what almost happened last time you all went out.

You shouldn’t look. Really, it’s only going to hurt you even more. You’re lucky enough the guy you have feelings for always ditches school, you shouldn’t ruin all your efforts right now.

You shouldn’t look. But Myung’s next words make it even harder, "He’s looking at you. Didn’t stop ever since he saw you."

You’re screwed, too late, you can’t help it. Your brain is screaming not to but it’s all your heart wants. Slowly, you turn around and your eyes land on him. He’s so easy to spot, because of his purple hair probably, but you want to believe it’s like your eyes are made to find each other through the crowd.

A breath is stuck in your throat at the sight of him. He is wearing an oversized pleated black shirt, baggy jeans and a red bandana around his neck. You’re sure this entire outfit cost more than all the money you ever made working at the coffee shop.

You can feel his burning gaze on you, eyeing you up and down, not once feeling embarrassed that you’re seeing him. He fixes his glasses and gulps but never looks away.

Hwangmo flickers his eyes in your direction, wondering why Wolf doesn’t listen to him anymore. He chuckles knowingly and steps away, finding someone else to talk with. He can’t distract Wolf, he knows exactly why he decided to come to this party tonight.

You, on the other hand, can’t handle this anymore. It’s not like you asked him for something so difficult. If he was brave enough to apologize, maybe things would be different tonight.

You spin on your heels and make your way into the open kitchen. You aren’t a big drinker but maybe a beer will help you ignore him.

An entire hour goes by and, even if you can still feel Wolf’s eyes on you, you do a good job focusing your attention on your discussion with Bongcha. Something about a boy she met at cram school and that you would get along with him. You sense Bongcha could have a little crush but she shushes you before you can really start teasing her.

But the atmosphere seems to change when a boy pops up next to you near the kitchen island and starts a conversation.

You’ve never seen him before and find out he is Soohee’s cousin. He’s visiting for a week.

"Got any place to recommend in the city?" he asks, "I rarely have the chance to come."

You shrug, "I don’t know, it depends what you like."

Choi slightly leans forward and you try your best not to grimace because of his liquored breath, "Don’t know, what do you like?"

Oh god no, you really don’t want him to flirt with you. Wait, has he been flirting with you this whole time? You just thought he was being friendly. Why the hell would he flirt with someone when he doesn’t even live in the city?

Realization hits you. He is just a man after all.

Choi doesn’t falter in front of your awkward silence. Instead, he seems to notice something else. He frowns, "This dude’s been staring at me non stop. The fuck does he want?"

You twist your neck so fast you almost see stars. You know exactly who could be staring for so long. And you’re right. It’s Wolf.

Eyes flickering between Choi, who’s leaning against the kitchen island, and Wolf, who’s leaning against a wall in the living room, you immediately notice they’re staring at each other.

Fuck no, Choi doesn’t know about Wolf’s rule. One, Wolf’s doesn’t blink. Two, your heart speeds up at what you know is going to happen next. Three, Wolf smirks and pushes himself off the wall.

"What the fuck’s your problem, dude?" Choi rages.

You have to stop what’s about to happen. What does Wolf think he is doing? Isn’t he fighting enough being part of the Union?

Wolf slowly walks into the kitchen, letting out a small laugh, "My problem’s you’re talking to her."

Wolf points a finger in your direction and he sends you a quick look, losing his smirk for a second. When he looks back at Choi, he is closing his fists and twisting his wrists.

Choi is just really confused at this point. He looks back and forth between you and Wolf and notices you’re more focused on Wolf than on him. He seems to understand something, "Dude, I didn’t know she was taken or something! How could I fucking know if she doesn’t say shit!"

Wolf loses his smirk instantly. Blaming the girl he likes appears to be the worst thing Choi could’ve done and Wolf is ready to push you aside when you beat him to it.

Your hand latches around Wolf’s wrist and he blinks, immediately pulled out of his enraged state. He looks at you with his eyes open wider.

"Don’t fucking do it," you warn and, next thing you know, you’re pulling him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Your heart is racing. Wolf was a second away from knocking Choi down. You’ve seen the look in his eyes. The look that caused you to throw your crush for him into the flames, years ago.

You walk inside the first room down the hall, forcefully closing the door behind you both and pushing Wolf against it. Wolf’s back smashes against the wooden door, the sound bouncing against the walls.

You don’t care. He fights all the time, you know it didn’t hurt him.

Wolf’s heart is racing like crazy as he watches your annoyed state. You’re known for being calm and collected. He likes that about you. But he can’t deny it does something to him seeing you so fed up you threw him against a door with no second thought.

"What the fuck, Wolf?!" you seethe, pacing back and forth in front of him.

"I was doing you a favor," he says. "You were clearly uncomfortable."

"Oh, please, keep your favors," you roll your eyes. "You’re so fucking annoying, I really wanna slap you right now."

"Do it," Wolf dares seriously.

You’re too stunned to speak. Of course you’re not going to slap him. He deserves a good hit but you’ll never do it.

"If that’s what it takes for you to talk to me again, just do it."

He’s going to piss you off even more. He knows what it takes. A slap isn’t going to fix things.

"You know what it takes," you sigh angrily. "But you have an ego the size of a fucking mountain!"

"And you don’t?"

You gasp in disbelief, "No, actually, I don’t! Don’t turn the tables around here, you know you fucked up." You run a hand over your face, what’s the point of talking with him. "It doesn’t fucking matter, you don’t get it. It’s not that important anyway, it’s not like—"

"I’m sorry!" Wolf lets out loudly. "Fucking hell, Y/N. After the meeting, I fucking rushed to the bar. I looked for you everywhere."

There is a knot in your throat. Wolf just apologized.

"I know I fucked up. And I’m sorry," Wolf confesses, again. His voice is calmer this time.

What are you supposed to do now? You assumed he would never apologize and that you would have to let the time heal you of something that could’ve been and never was.

Wolf can tell you’re unsettled. You’re breathing a little faster and so is he. He’s never apologized before. Never like that. Never for anyone. He was always sure but it’s another confirmation that he’s got you under his skin. Like you cast a spell on him.

"Three years," Wolf breaks the silence.

You frown and look up, finding his eyes, "What?"

"You’ve asked me for how long I’ve liked you," Wolf says with a long sigh. "Three years."

Three years? But, what could’ve happened three years ago for Wolf to like you for that long?

Wolf can tell you’re trying to remember, "We were paired for a science project. I already thought you were the prettiest girl in the school. But we met up to work and it happened after my first big fight."

That science project? The one Myung was talking about on your way to the Yoosun party? At the time your crush on Wolf was stronger than ever? It can’t be real. You can’t believe it.

But you can now recall the moment perfectly.

You were nervous to the core. You were meeting with Wolf at the library, still praying he would work a little. At the time, he already had a reputation for ditching classes and letting others work for him.

Your face fell when he walked into the library and made his way to your table.

He was bleeding from everywhere. The nose, the lips, the knuckles, the eyebrows.

You were too shocked to reply when he greeted you and sat down next to you. Your eyes were glued to the big gash on the right side of his face, under his lips on his jawline. You winced, wondering how he could maintain such composure.

Your hands flew to grab your backpack. With fencing, slight injuries were bound to occur so you always had stuff to take care of bruises and cuts.

Too focused on gathering the materials, you didn’t notice Wolf’s frown as he wondered what you were doing. Honestly, he didn’t even know why he even bothered showing up to work on a school homework he didn’t even care for.

You two weren’t close. He had known you almost his whole life but you never became friends. So why did he come? He couldn’t tell.

With a hand gesture, you’ve asked him to turn his head to the side so you could apply some disinfectant, "It has to be cleaned right away."

Wolf was unsettled to say the least. Were you offering to clean his cuts? In the middle of the library? Were you… prioritizing him over school work?

Wolf didn’t wince when you sprayed the disinfectant on his bleeding skin. But he gulped at the proximity, watching the way you were leaning forward with the cotton pad, gently dabbing it on the injury.

One, his heart clenched in his chest.

You carefully unwrapped a bandage and gave him a soft smile, "You’ll have to change it two or three times a day."

Two, his eyes twitched and he couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as your fingers came closer and closer.

You placed the bandage over his injury, biting your lower lip in concentration. When you leaned back, something weird was happening in Wolf’s heart.

You were quick to put your stuff back in your bag, "Let’s work on the science project another time."

Three, Wolf’s heart skipped a beat.

So Wolf started liking you the day you cleaned his big injury? On the day you went home with a weight in your chest, knowing it was best to throw your crush on him in the garbage?

Something else hits you. The bandage on his face. Always at the same place. Exactly where you placed it on his face three years ago. You know the injury was rather serious, meaning he must have a scar there.

But a scar doesn’t mean there needs to be a bandage.

You don’t want to believe these two things are linked. You don’t want to but you can’t help it.

Wolf nervously bites his lower lip. His eyes never leave your face, observing the slight changes in your behavior as you remember the moment that caused his endless infatuation.

He barely blinks that you’ve taken three steps in his direction. Your eyes travel from his left eye to the right. Your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes flicker to his lips.

Wolf didn’t even count to three that your hands find his body, one behind his neck and the other over his chest. Wolf immediately melts when your lips meet with his own.

His hands find your waist, gripping you so tight you know there is no space between your bodies.

The kiss is intense. Wolf’s lips are so much softer than anything you could’ve imagined. It’s soft but you’re pressing your lips harder, letting out a small gasp when Wolf bites your lower lip. You smile against his lips at the groan he lets out when you slightly pull his hair.

The kiss becomes sloppy, your heart leaps and your stomach twists as Wolf’s lips fasten against yours. He tastes like cigarettes and sweet liquor, you want more. The hands on your waist move around your back, tightening the grip even more and you can feel Wolf’s fingers lingering on the hem of your top.

Fuck, you can’t breathe anymore. Fuck, Wolf wouldn’t even have to ask for you let him slip his hand under your shirt. Fuck, you’re down bad.

You have to pull apart to take a breath. You really don’t want to stop kissing him but you need to breathe.

Your heart is bouncing in your chest and you can’t maintain eye contact with the way Wolf is looking at you. Has he ever looked at someone like that before? You can feel your knees buckling and your cheeks warming up when one of Wolf’s hands force your chin up.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes and he is breathing faster. Flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you would give everything to take a picture right now.

His voice is barely a whisper, "You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this."

You yelp when he swiftly switches positions, pushing you against the door and kissing you again with no warning.

The fingers on your chin tilt your head to the side before finding the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing the skin behind your ear. Wolf kisses you softly, responding to the way you move your lips against his.

When you kiss with urge, Wolf licks your bottom lip before biting your flesh and slightly finding your tongue with his when you open your mouth in surprise.

When you kiss slowly, doing anything to feel every inch of his plump lips, Wolf kisses you even slower as if he is trying to remember every piece of you.

And when he pulls back, he barely does. Far enough for you to breathe, close enough for his nose to rub against yours and his lips to constantly be brushing against yours.

Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore. You kissed Wolf. You initiated it. Not him. You.

You’ve never done this before. You’ve always let the other come forward first. Probably because you can never believe that someone can be into you like that.

Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore so you don’t care, you close the gap between your lips again. He feels so sweet on you, you want to kiss him until you can’t feel your lips anymore.

You melt when Wolf kisses you back as if it’s all he wants too.

Wolf is the first to pull away, aware that things are going to go too far if he doesn’t slow down now. He is very close from the edge at this point, dizzy and shaken to the core.

He isn’t going to say it but he didn’t think he could get more addicted to you. Then you kissed him. Wolf is screwed, he can’t deny the hold you have on him.

A breath gets stuck in Wolf’s throat when you gently play with the hair falling on his forehead, "Should we get out of here?"

Wolf doesn’t trust his voice, he only nods firmly, wasting no time to wrap a hand around yours and pulling you out of the room.

The music bouncing on the walls of the entire house doesn’t reach your ears. The faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes don’t reach your nose. The surprised looks of people when you’re seen breezing through the crowd with Wolf don’t reach your eyes.

You don’t even notice how Myung freaks out, barely containing a shriek as she holds onto a proudly smirking Bongcha for support.

Nothing matters anymore. You just want to get out of this house with Wolf.

The frisky wind feels like a gentle shock against your flushed and warm body as you stop in front of Wolf’s bike. You’ve offered him to leave this place but to go where? Truth is you don’t care.

When Wolf releases your hand to grab a helmet, you latch onto him, swiftly wrapping one arm around his chest.

Wolf feels like he is going to explode. He turns around to take a look at you. To make sure he isn’t dreaming this moment. If only he had known that you would touch him like this, your arm now around his back, that you would kiss him like this, that you would look at him like this.

If only he had known you would make his heart race insanely fast like this, he would have found a way to approach you sooner. Way sooner.

Wolf cups your cheeks with both hands and closes the gap, giving a kiss that has you almost moaning in his mouth.

Wolf is biting his lower lip when he pulls away, almost ready to just kiss you to no end. But it’s too soon, he’s just fixed things with you and he wants to take his time.

Wolf groans and is forced to break the eye contact at your flushed cheeks, swollen lips and big doe eyes, "Fuck, you’re driving me crazy."

The chuckle that comes out of your lips is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. He is really going insane at this point, he doesn’t even remember what he was supposed to do.

He blinks a few times and sees the bike. Quickly, he grabs a helmet and places it over your head. Now, he can’t just forget things and randomly kiss you, he’s keeping that for later.

"Let’s make that second date happen, yeah?" Wolf offers with a grin.

You nod quickly, sitting on the bike as you wait for him to do the same.

Wolf is about to turn on the engine, trying as hard as he can not to focus on your arm wrapped around his torso and the other over his shoulder, when you gasp. Wolf straightens, putting a hand on your thigh as a reflex, "What?"

"I said I’d pay for the second date but I forgot my wallet!"

Wolf’s body relaxes and you can feel his laugh against your chest, "That’s my girl."

AUTHOR’S NOTE. omg this was such a wild ride, i hope you enjoyed it (and that wolf wasn’t too ooc), anyways, i’m planning to write more for them so if you have ideas for some drabbles, please leave a comment or a private message !!!

[hoshologies]

6:17 am, sim j.

genres &&. warnings — timestamp, fluff, established relationship &&. lapslock intended, jake being perfect boyfriend material as always.

word count — 1.5k

note — everyone manifest good seats for enhypen tour omg.....

milky early morning light is starting to pour in through the windows of your living room, where you definitely didn’t mean to fall asleep last night. you blink against the light, trying to ward it off because you’re still so tired and want to sleep more, but it’s next to impossible because the sun is starting to shine directly into your eyes.

with no clear way to go back to sleep, you start to stretch. at least, stretch as best you can when you’re laying directly on top of your boyfriend and his body brackets yours on all sides. he’s got one leg draped over yours, a hand resting on the small of your back, the other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. his heartbeat is steady under your cheek, a nice reminder that he’s here with you right now, despite busy schedules and comeback season. most days, you find yourself wishing that this could be a constant thing, waking up in jake’s embrace, but that yearning is tenfold today for some reason.

maybe it’s because all of this feels so domestic. he’d come over last night to help you make dinner, giggling as he purposely bumped hips with you in the small kitchen. he’d done the same thing when you were washing dishes, your sides pressed tight together as he washed and you dried, slotting dishes into their correct places. and then you’d settled down on the small couch for a movie, except you’d laid down halfway through and promptly fallen asleep. clearly neither of you had woken up in the night to convince the other to go sleep in your actual bed. but 

isn’t that kind of nice? getting to share all parts of your home with jake, feeling comfortable enough to pass out on the loveseat? there’s some level of domesticity that comes with all of this, a very unfamiliar territory to you but one you’re growing comfortable in nonetheless. you’ve never felt more at home than you do right now with him; you really could just lay here forever.

he draws a sudden deep breath, arms tightening around you as he stirs. like instinct, a habit he’s had all his life, his breath is hot against your hairline as he seeks you out, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “g’morning.”

his voice is thick with sleep, accent heavy, and it makes you smile to yourself. he’s so adorable like this. you wish you got to see this side of him more often, make it yours and yours alone. you’re sure he shares the same sentiment about you, especially when you can hear the smile as he lets out a short breathy laugh when you reply with your own “morning.”

he rubs his hands against your shoulder and back, the heels of his palms soothing soft lines into your skin, his cheek against the top of your head. “guess we’ll have to rewatch the movie, huh?”

you shrug, snuggling impossibly closer. “i guess so. just gives you an excuse to come over again.”

he laughs for real this time, a short, quiet little giggle that has his chest rumbling underneath you. it makes you smile into his sweater, something bright and soft, ethereal.

“i’ll always find an excuse to come over,” he says in between the tiny pinpricks of light that come in the form of laughter. “you know that.”

you can’t help but join him in his giggling. he’s right; he’s used every excuse in the book to sneak over to your apartment at least twice a week for the last seven months. he forgot his phone charger, you’re sick and need him to run an errand for you, you have a delivery coming but you’re not home and need someone to sign for it, he left his favorite sweater on accident (this one is true, except he did it on purpose, but the other guys don’t need to know how much he loves the way you look in his clothes). he’s never had to do much to get himself out of the dorms and into your apartment during his free time. you’re just happy to offer him yet another reason to come over.

eventually, you both fall silent again, just basking in one another and the warm light as it creeps farther and brighter into your apartment, casting everything it touches in gold. jake has moved one arm to rest behind his head, the other drawing his fingers up and down your back in loose, uneven lines.

“what time is it?” you ask quietly, unwilling to move so you can see the clock on your wall or reach for your phone. jake is just too comfortable, too warm and you’re not ready to let him go just yet.

thankfully, jake is in the perfect position to reach for his phone on the coffee table and he picks it up with ease. “almost six-thirty.”

you let out a sigh and finally release one of your arms to drag the blanket that lays on the back of the couch over you. there’s the soft clatter of jake’s phone being set back on the coffee table and then he’s adjusted the blanket over the both of you, a smile evident in the small breath he lets out through his nose.

“too early,” you say once you’re settled again, voice muffled against his sweater clad chest.

“then go back to sleep, cutie,” he replies softly, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. his arms are back around you, nice and tight, his go to cuddle position that you’ve come to love more than anything.

you shake your head as best you can. “want to, but ‘s too bright.”

jake hums in response, a sound that has his chest rumbling under your cheek just a bit. his fingers wind their way back and forth across your shoulders as he thinks. birds are starting to chirp outside your window now, the world waking up with the sun when all you want is a little bit more time in bed with your boyfriend.

he shatters that desire almost immediately as it materializes, though he does so with a suggestion that is just as pleasant. “well, i’m not getting back to sleep any time soon either, especially since i have practice this afternoon… y’wanna go get breakfast at that coffee shop down the street?”

you pull your head up from his chest to look at him. you almost wish you hadn’t because he looks so pretty like this, hair messy from sleep and brown eyes caught by sunbeams that turn them molten bronze, and you nearly fall in love all over again. he smiles up at you, all soft and warm, a small grin that is reserved just for you.

“you payin’?” you ask, even though you know you don’t have to. jake always refuses to let you pay for anything, even things he won’t get any use out of like the pair of shoes you were planning to buy a couple weeks ago when you went out shopping together; he’d slipped his card into the machine while you had your head turned to pull out your own like the menace he was.

his eyes practically glitter in the morning sunlight as he nods, dropping his arms to your waist. “course i am. it was my idea.”

you smile and press a kiss to his jawline, the one place you can reach comfortably in this position. he leans into the touch, cheek pressed hot against your temple, always the sucker for physical affection.

“you’d pay even if it wasn’t your idea,” you counter, pulling away to look at him again.

he shrugs his shoulders and starts to sit up, so you adjust yourself too, kneeling on the couch between his legs. you reach to run your fingers through soft, golden locks of hair and he smiles, his own fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“are you trying to say you don’t want me to pay for things anymore?” he questions. he tries to add an edge of a threat in there, but it doesn’t quite work when he’s leaning into your touch and looking more and more like the puppy his friends and fans (and you) equate him to.

“just stating facts,” you answer, a little bit of laughter in your voice.

he giggles with you, wrapping his arms fully around your waist again and pulling you into his body. somehow, in the struggle, he manages to stand up and starts carrying you towards your bedroom amid shrieks and your desperate attempts to latch your legs around his hips.

“gotta get a move on, baby, or else your favorite table’s gonna get taken before we can even get out the door.”

he knows you down to your favorite table at your favorite coffee shop. and you know that when you eventually arrive, he’s going to be able to rattle off your order like it’s song lyrics he has memorized. you’ll walk through broken glass before you ever let him go, especially when he offers his elbow to you ten minutes later when you step outside onto the sidewalk. this is the most in love you’ve ever felt and you hope he’s the only person you’ll experience this with.

[ghostlythunderbird]

So we know how Ghost and König met their mates. Would we be able to see how Soap met his? Our Scottish boy deserves some love too

GAH I'm so far behind on asks I'm so sorry! Here ya go hun, I Hope yall enjoy <3

How Alpha!Soap met his mate

Soap may have been one hell of a sweet talker; the amount of flings this man has under his belt is a feat. However, over the years, he yearned for something more......intimate. His inner Alpha was calling out for something more than just a release from the throes of his ruts.

The day had started early in the morning; coming off deployments was always rough. The mixture of exhaustion and jet lag was a horrid mess on his body; his muscles cried out in agony as he tried to sit up from his bed. “A Dhia uile-chumhachdaich,” He cursed when he finally was fully sat up.

When Johnny was finally up and moving around, he worked his way into his kitchen. Looking into his cupboards, he realized he had nothing to make coffee to perk himself up. All the curses that came out of his mouth in such a short span would have made anyone around turn cherry red.

Deciding to go out to the new coffee shop in town, he returned to his room to get dressed. Once ready, he grabbed his keys and hopped in his car; thankfully, the commute wasn't very long.

The town was bustling with life, people going on about their days without an idea of the shadows that follow soap in every inch of his life. He had thought about being a civilian and what his life would be like outside the military. He wanted a calm life away from the dangers that lurked below and someone who would love him as he was. ‘Maybe even have pups.’ Wait what?

Where that train of thought had come from stopped him in his tracks. As he dug into his mind trying to understand what his alpha was hinting at, music began to break the chains of his inner search. 

It was pop music if he was correct; he spotted a crowd outside one of the shops across the street. Presumably, where the music was coming from. He was close to the coffee shop by now but couldn't help but let his curiosity get the upper hand.

Rushing across, the music became louder and louder the closer he got. As he was within feet of the crowd, a wonderful scent hit him. The aroma teasing him to come closer was the best thing he’s ever smelled.

Pushing his way through the crowd, he finally saw what had gathered the large group in the first place. Street Dancers. But that wasn't what truly caught his gaze; it was you.

Soap couldn't help but trace his eyes along your body as it moved to the music; each way your body rolled, how you threw your head back, had him drooling for more. As the song ended, his alpha fangs ached deep in his gums. Oh, to sink them into such a beautiful neck, into such a beautiful Omega. Claiming you as his and his ALONE.

As his Alpha started to take over, the crowd dispersed around him. Leaving the dancers to have a break before beginning again, He finally moved to approach you.

You had been drinking water when he tapped you on the shoulder, turning around slowly to look at the stranger. You couldn't help but think this man was beyond the humanly possible levels of attractiveness.

Until Soap opened his mouth, “Excuse me, love, as much as I love your dancing out here. How about we give it a go in private?” You knew it was an attempt to flirt with you, a horrid one, but it was an attempt.

The only response he got was an “Excuse me?” and water being thrown in his face. But we know our sweet Johnny is a gentleman at heart; he does end up apologizing to you, but when he tries again to ask you out, you stick it to him with a swift rejection.

However, that never deterred him, and the fact you said “No” made him want to prove that he could be a good Alpha to you. But he does respect your wishes overall, and eventually, you end up saying yes, but just this once. And well, needless to say, it wasn't the only date, and our lovable, sweet Alpha did end up getting that dance after all.

Wanna know what reader's dance looked like? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xnn3cZgmm8 (Girl in grey sweatpants)

Translations: Scots Gaelic: "A Dhia uile-chumhachdaich" ~ God Almighty (I used google translate im sorry!)

[bau-drabbles]

hello!! 💗 how about red carnation for reid? can be happy or sad whichever one you’d like 💗

baby 🥺 thank u for asking my sweet, this is sad :) <3 i didn't proof read, sorry about the mistakes

red carnation: a moment of yearning 

"the wait will be around 15 minutes, one of the machines have broken" the employee smiled apologetically and you shook your head, giving her a small smile back.

"that's okay, thank you" you nod as you head to wait. the cafe was calm and you relish in the peace, enjoying the peace for a moment. you don't register someone else has entered until they speak and it immediately pulls your attention away from your phone. and you regret it as soon as you make eye contact

there spencer reid stood, he looked well. happy. content, even. in the arms of his new beau, he looked different. your cheeks burn as you look away, hoping he was all but a cruel mirage your mind was conjuring up.

and then you hear him speak for the first time in weeks. it had felt like a familiar touch, a familiar sound. a familiar scent to have them flood back into your brain all at once. the low baritone of his voice caressed your senses.

his laughter blew through you and you felt yourself catching your breath. it was beautiful as you had remembered it to be. full of warmth, sincerity and love. he was standing there, really and truly standing there.

and you could've gone to say hi, gave him a smile but you remain rooted in the same position. there's another woman hanging off from him, another person in your place holding him as you did before. you pray your coffee comes quickly moving a little forwards to stay away from spencer sight.

"oh sorry-" "it's okay" you give a half smile, moving a little away until reid stands a couple feet away. he locks eyes with you and it feels like you're heart has fallen all the way to the deepest depths of earth. for a second, you remember all the memories that you had tried your utmost hardest to bury. the memories that had you weeping in the early morning, wondering why you could never be good enough for him.

how odd it felt to have been in her position a mere few months ago, to have held and kissed spencer in the same places she did. to had held his hand, stroked his face, cuddled him where she did. how easily he had moved on and how painful it was for you to even consider dating again.

it was getting hard to breathe and yet you couldn't look away, fighting every single urge in your body to throw your arms around his neck and sob into his chest. it feels like a lifetime ago when he used to embrace you with such a tenderness, it healed your heart almost immediately relieving it of all it's burdens. and now it felt like everything was slowly becoming undone.

spencer's face is still, unreadable and stoic, observing every little detail about you. watching you. you hated how well he could simply know what you felt but a glance. it's almost like he's wearing a mask, to a normal person he looks cold. but to you, having known and dated him for years, you know what he means.

yet in his eyes the turbulent sea churns beneath. the waters ready to drag you from the surface, plunging you in to the darkness that lay just below. his gaze lingers briefly upon your lips, slowly following the arch of your mouth grazing your cheekbones before they finally meet yours.

your breath catches in your throat as his exterior melts piece by piece, softening just for you. you see his truth, you see that it is painful for him as much as it had been for you. you see the farce he's continuing for the sake of having a routine, to make life a little easier. but its not working, nothing is. you were the thing that made his world go around and now that you've gone, it's stopped in it's tracks. awaiting you once more.

all you both can do is look, the what ifs and if only growing bigger by the second. suffocating you both under the dreams you had planned together. dreams that will remain that way, locked and hidden to protect your sanity and peace. dreams that could never see the light of day ever again, they didn't exist without spencer. and he was no longer yours to have anymore.

still, your hands ache to touch him, to feel his soft skin underneath the pads of your fingers. for your lips to graze his cheeks once more, to feel his curls just once more. love doesn't really go away, you learnt. it manifests itself in different ways but it never really disappeared. it was all still there, the adoration you held for him.

perhaps the blaze didn't ignite as it once did but the embers were still burning deep within. all he had to do was fan the flames, to have the fire roaring for him once more. maybe if he had said something, maybe if you had spoken first things would've been different.

instead you smile at the employee, taking your coffee in your hand and turning around. never once looking back on spencer reid. but despite the distance between you both, it would never be enough. he was yours and you were his.

maybe in a different life, you both would've finally got your happy ending afters together like you dreamed of

[kissochako]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐘

summary : poor shoutie forgot his birthday:(((

tags : shouto x gn!reader, ily world words, implications of insecurities. 0.5k words

Shouto’s birthday was just a normal everyday for him.

—-

The first rays of sunlight lit up you and Shouto’s room. The dawn chorus of melodic birdsong drifted in. He reached out for your warmth, only to be met with the cold feeling of desolation.

You weren’t going to work nor university today, so there couldn’t be a proper excuse as to why exactly you were up so early. You and Shouto had always taken advantage of days when there was no work, no university or any social events, to just enjoy each other’s embrace and ignore the events of the world beyond the bed.

However, you weren’t here. Shouto ponders, has he forgotten about any social events? Did you have an exam? Or perhaps something came up? He tried to think logically, but his heart rushed ahead. What if you didn’t want to stay with him in the mornings anymore? Was it uncomfortable for you?

He dreadfully dragged his body out of bed, putting on some sweatpants. Was he just, not good enough for you anymore? He looked at himself in the mirror, and wondered what could possibly be wrong with him? He knows he hasn’t been the best boyfriend lately, because of his academics and aspiration to be a hero.

As he was self-pitying himself, he hadn’t noticed the faint scent of burning in the kitchen. He just assumed that it was the aftermath of his fire quirk.

DING DONG!

Was it you? He rushed over to the door, carelessly knocking over a lamp in desparation. He needed your touch, he needed your aroma, he needed your voice, he needed you more than ever.

“Y/n..!!” He was heavily breathing due to his fire quirk heating him up. It was you. Standing right there in front of his eyes. Despite how much he yearns to say to you, to yell at you, to complain, to cry, just to you, he stays quiet regardless. All because of your just, perfect and infectious smile. How could he stay mad at you? How could literally anyone on earth feel any anger towards you?

“Shouto? You’re up?” You inquired before walking past and placing a dainty white box and a colourful gift bag on the kitchen countertops. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re awake while the cake is still fresh.

Oh shit. He’s a terrible boyfriend. You most definitely deserve better. How could he forget the anniversary date? He swore it was just a couple of months later. He was questioning all the reasons why you’ve gone out, but why did it not even cross his mind once? He was here, questioning everything while your sweet soul was out thinking about him!

“I’m.. so, so sorry.” You looked at him with your adorable doe eyes, asking him why he was sorry, after all, it was a pretty special day.

“Shouto, cheer up! It’s your birthday.” You kissed him gently on the lips, and god, all of his past thoughts were forgotten once he was reminded of his warmth. You directed him to a seat, “Come sit, I’ll slice some cake.”

You opened the box to reveal an All Might themed cake, with the words ‘Happy birthday Shouto!’ iced on top. He nearly cried at the sight. At most, he rarely got a cupcake with a candle, and to think that someone like you put in so much effort for someone like him, sets his heart aflame.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?”

“I love you.. So much.”

—

Shouto now looks lovingly at the calendar, envisioning his birthday to be just like his last one. Shouto looks forward to his birthday.