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#bruno scenario
shyfairies · 2 months
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✨️more jjba text scenarios😩✨️
ps: GUYS I KNOW GIORNO DROVE HIS CAR OFF A BRIDGE I REMEMBERED THAT AFTER I POSTED THIS BUT I HAVENT WATCHED PART 5 IN LIKE 2 YEARS😭🙏
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yourneondemon · 3 months
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¡Pobre Abbachio!
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Un trabajo que debía hace muchísimo tiempo. Originalmente era un cómic de principio a final, pero no me dio el tiempo de ninguna manera, entre la facultad, mis miles de problemas, los trabajos que me encargar y un gran etc, no puedo ocuparme de un cómic tan grande. Soy una persona muy perfeccionista y tardo tanto en entregar los proyectos porque me fijo en cada detalle, y eso es perjudicial incluso en mis tareas académicas. ¡En fin! ¡He finalizado el dibujo!
Esta ilustración es para @gladdygirl18 Espero que te guste! Lamento no cumplir lo que prometí, lamento mucho la espera y espero que te haya gustado! Está basado en una escena del fic UN-Moody Blue.
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xxsabitoxx · 2 years
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Team Bucciarati & Accidentally walking in on you while you are changing
Warning: all characters are 18+ in this situation, kinda suggestive content ahead if you squint? Well beside Mista’s but… really nothing crazy lol
Reader is female!
A/N: I have like 37 fucking JJBA smuts I could finish yet here I am writing this stupid shit LMAO — also my phone is acting so infuriating lately so please bear with me if there are any typos Proof read? Never
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Giorno Giovanna
He knocks, every single time, so how this even happened is beyond him. Maybe it was because your door was slightly ajar, maybe it was because it was only the two of you home in the apartment the entire gang shared, whatever the reason was… Giorno still failed to knock. “Y/n do you ha—oh.” He froze midway through the door, eyes widening ever so slightly as he looked at you. You were mid-change, a shirt on but no pants, panties sticking to your frame as you turned to face him. “Giorno!?” You yelped, grabbing the closest item to shield your lower half — in this case it was your pillow. “I’m sorry I…” he was turning around so you only saw his back. “I just wanted to ask you something but it can certainly wait till you are decent…” he was making his way back out of your room, face burning just as brightly as yours.
Bruno Bucciarati
He wasn’t thinking, knuckles hitting your door a few times and pushing it open without waiting for a response. “Y/n I need you to help me with this paperwork…” he locked eyes with you, his tired brain taking a second to process that you looked shocked. “B-Bruno!” Your hands were over your bare chest, hugging your breasts tightly. He blinked once, twice, three times before his cheeks were turning neon red. You’d never seen him exit your room so quickly, hand over his mouth as he clicked the door shut. “My deepest apologies…” he was muffled from behind your door but you could still hear the embarrassment in his voice. “I am… so so sorry… forgive me I…” you began to laugh, reaching for a shirt to throw over yourself. A second later, you were opening your bedroom door. “No need to apologize, Bruno. It’s alright.” Your cheeks were still warm, but it felt less awkward seeing how shy he had gotten. You found it rather cute.
Pannacotta Fugo
It’s a rare occasion for Fugo to even come close to your room. He probably couldn’t even accurately describe it if he wanted too. So how he ended up where he was now? So red in the face he was nearly purple? Was still a mystery to him. “Oh? Hi Fugo.” You smiled, reaching for your perfume, it seemed you were oblivious to the fact that you were only in a pair of panties and a bra. His mouth was hanging open, eyes comically wide as he tried to process what he was seeing. “Fugo? Are you alright? You usually don’t come in my room?” For you, it wasn’t really a big deal. I mean you’ve all been to the beach together before, you weren’t really showing that much more skin at the moment. “Earth to Fugo? Did you need to tell me something?” Your hand waving in his face was the only thing that snapped him out of it, mostly because of your new proximity. “I-i’m so sorry! I don’t even know why I came in here! I’ll just let myself out I…” he was still muttering as he left, hands coming up to hold his face once he was out of your sight.
Narancia Ghirga
You’re used to it by now, he quite literally never knocks and always lets himself in. “Hey Y/N! I need to ask you…” you jumped, moving to cover yourself before realizing it was just Narancia. You mostly zoned out when he started asking you questions, some how you’re half assed answers seemed satisfactory for him. Most of the time, Narancia sat in your room talking your ear off as you got ready for the day. He was, in every sense, not phased seeing you half naked. Of course he’d never seen you in anything less than a bra and underwear, but in your eyes it was the same as being seen in a bikini. Narancia was just…Narancia. “Where do you even come up with these questions?” You slipped a shirt over your head, laughing as he tilted his head. “I dunno.” Was all he could give you, eyes training on your CD collection as you rummaged through your closet for a pair of bottoms. Really, it didn’t even phase you anymore.
Mista Guido
The last thing he expected was to get a face full of your ass when he walked into your room. “Merda, y/n! You could kill a man with a sight like that!” Always a smart ass… and a flirt. You rolled your eyes, straighten from where you had been bent over rummaging for pajamas. “You scared the fuck out of me, Mista.” He made his way into your room, throwing himself on your bed. “Ah well, you scared me too with an ass like that. The very thought of you sitting—“ you picked up your pillow and began hitting him with it, laughing as he attempted to block. “You are such a horny bastard.” You shook your head, finally flopping yourself beside him when he stopped putting up a fight. “I can’t help it! Having a roommate as good looking as you… who loves to walk round half nude…” the pillow was hitting him once again, this time both of you couldn’t contain your laughter.
Leone Abbacchio
He was only walking into your room because Bucciarati sent him to get you… what he failed to do though was knock. “We’re going to dinner, hurry your ass up so we can…go…” he froze, eyes matching the size of yours as you instinctively covered yourself with your towel. “Why wouldn’t you knock?!” You felt your face getting warm, knowing full and well that Abbacchio had quite literally just seen all of you. “I—“ he swallowed, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, even that quick glance of your body was engraved into his mind. “I’m sorry…I…” he was stumbling backwards out of your room, praying his cheeks weren’t turning as red as they felt. “J-just hurry up so we can go get dinner…” his voice was strained, quite unusual for him, which was making the situation all the more awkward. “Okay…” you croaked, mentally reminding yourself to lock your door from now on.
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kimiko24-art · 19 days
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Bruno polaroid~
In my au with my s/i, Bruno and I sometimes send each other polaroids. Usually of things in our respective cities and/or immediate surroundings. But sometimes we like to send photos of ourselves as well💕💕 I like to send more daring ones though haha~
Probably gonna use it for when I write headcanons or drabbles or whatever.
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moe-broey · 7 months
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Winter concpets.....
(these first ones are At Least a year old 😭😭😭)
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First up, a Winter Sharena concept!
And a little comic about it
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The last panel would have been Sharena begging to "steal Alfonse's body warmth" while Alfonse subtly/sarcastically teases her about it, Moe trailing behind them (I lost steam/focus though 🥲)
This was The Year Of Bruno as well, and I was testing out/playing with the scenario presented (From the Tempest Trials and from what Winter Bruno says, it seems Alfonse and Sharena spent the holiday together while the Summoner was spending it with Bruno the Envoy)
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(funny aspect of this is I don't even really enjoy "why does so and so call you babygirl" jokes anymore LMFAOOO like. Nothing wrong w em and was a decent set up here, but Moe would Not Fucking Say That skskksk) (also you can Tell this is Early On in Moe's development bc its fangs aren't even piercings 😔)
This year I Did revisit Winter Concepts, espp wanting to redo my Idea of a winter Moe who's helping out Bruno with Envoy Duty
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All it needed was to become more of a furry and some loose BDSM gear inspo 👍 I was also thinking about a few different things! Like how Bruno's fit is literally just his regular outfit with some Santa suit on top LMFAO. But I was also thinking about how Moe is probably not meant to be recognized here? If it is hanging out with Bruno? Who is actively avoiding being seen by Alfonse and Sharena? So Moe keeps the shoes/tights, but little else!
Final version would have most closely resembled this one!
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And another little comic
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Once again I'm parsing how okay well how are they interacting with each other. What's the vibe here?
I wanted to draw a bigger piece of them hanging out, maybe spending the night together by the fire with hot cocoa after a hard day's work (again thinking about how it's implied the summoner spent the holiday separately from Alfonse/Sharena). I may revisit the concept again, I feel like there's a lot of potential story-focused comic wise here.... and a lot of set up for some funny conflict later.
#fire emblem#feh#to elaborate on the babygirl bit like. i think moe's complex relationship w gender and esp#discomfort w being misgendered would play into it avoiding that completely.#it's more likely to (affectionately intricate ritually i see you the way you see me you are me and i am you) call alfonse a faggot.#WITH. permission LMFAOOO#and boundaries. alfonse voice Not beyond closed doors#for me i guess it's the difference between emasculation being a punchline vs celebrating/embracing#complex/nuanced relationships to gender identity/presentation/performance. ect.#it is NOT that deep LMFAOOO it's just how i've come to feel!#anyways i think if i did write a story about spending a night w bruno i think the ONLY way to end it#is to have him gone by morning. i think he has Always done this.#and i think it's fascinating to consider him Still doing this ESP w someone who isn't of askr blood#it is just so deeply fucking ingrained in him.#and i imagine it almost being an odd comfort to alfonse. as well. (upon hearing about it)#moe is a bad liar but if it's Required to keep a secret it will try its absolute damnest to#esp to honor bruno's wishes. i think moe does manage to keep this under wraps for Surprisingly long#which i think sets up ANOTHER really fascinating scenario. where moe IS honest to a fault#but somehow managed to hide something Like That. the sense of shock and betrayal must be INSANE#i do really wanna revisit it someday#fe alfonse#sharena#fe bruno#moe tag#summoner oc#my art#my concepts
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Note
If you're comfortable with it, can you do headcanons for Bucciarati and Giorno being friends with a hijabi reader? All platonic of course!
Bucciarati and Giorno with a hijabi friend headcannons
Pairing: Bruno Bucciarati & Giorno Giovanna x reader (platonic friendship)
Warnings: none, Giorno under de cut
Author’s note: thanks for requesting! I tried my best with this one, so if there’s anything you would like to change feel free to tell me!🫶
Bruno
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Bucciarati approaches his hijabi friend's choice to wear the hijab with genuine curiosity and respect. He takes the time to ask questions and understand the significance it holds for you without being intrusive. His open-mindedness fosters a deeper connection between them.
As a true friend, Bucciarati is supportive in every sense. He stands up for you when you face any discrimination, ensuring that your beliefs and choices are respected. He goes the extra mile to make sure you feel valued and included.
He values the beauty of diversity and appreciates your cultural traditions. He eagerly engages in cultural exchanges, celebrating special occasions together and showing genuine interest in your background.
In times of difficulty or uncertainty, Bucciarati is a compassionate listener and a caring friend. He offers his support and understanding without judgement, providing a safe space for you to share your thoughts and feelings.
He uses his leadership skills to advocate for inclusivity and acceptance writhing the group. He is vocal about the importance of embracing diversity and encourages others to learn from each other’s backgrounds.
Bucciarati values the insights and wisdom you bring to your conversations. He appreciates your perspective, recognizing that your experiences enrich your friendship and broaden his understanding of the world.
As you navigate through life’s ups and downs together, your friendship with Bucciarati flourishes. Your shared experiences, mutual respect and unwavering support create a bond that grows stronger with time.
Giorno
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Giorno’s kind and compassionate nature shines through in his friendship with you. From the moment you met, he welcomed you with open arms, eager to learn about your background and beliefs.
He sees the beauty in cultural diversity and actively celebrates your traditions.
Giorno stands by your side during moments of adversity, ensuring that your voice is heard and your choices respected.
Giorno understands the importance of trust in any friendship. He is reliable and dependable, always there when you need a helping and or a listening ear. Your bond is built on trust and mutual respect.
Giorno encourages you to share your dreams and aspirations, offering his unwavering support in pursuing your golas.
As a friend, he is eager to understand the significance of the hijab in your life. He listens attentively to your experiences, asking thoughtful questions to gain a deeper understanding of your beliefs.
With Giorno, you know you can express your thoughts, joys and concerns without judgement, as he values you for who you are.
Your friendship with him is not fleeting; it is a lifelong bond. Your connection only grows stronger with time as you continue to support, uplift and inspire each other along your journey through life.
.
.
.
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gritsandbrits · 2 years
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"Why don't Mirabel just leave?"
Me: because she could end up burning her bridges with the family members she do get along with, she could carry bitterness and a lot of regret, unhealed trauma, literally 15 and has not many alternative places to go, casita would've even more at risk of falling apart and may not ever be repaired again, basically she ends up like Sra. Mára
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viridianvisions · 2 years
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I've just finished watching - take a wild guess - Encanto for the twentieth time and I completely forgot just how brief Bruno's appearance actually is in the entirety of the movie.
Remind me again how I managed to fall so hard for him in less than ten minutes of screen time?! 😳 Also, I've spent such a long time fleshing out his backstory, childhood, deepest musings, and pain and anguish that I was startled that it wasn't more than implied in the film. 🤭
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shyfairies · 2 months
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sleepy nights with narancia♡
☆warnings: none!
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the colorful hue coming from the sun as it set shone through the window, dusting your walls a faint pink with a hint of orange. the window was cracked open, letting a light breeze flow through the air and rest on your bare skin, tingling from the chilly sensation.
it was a cool summer's evening, and after a long day of doing basically nothing, being tangled up with your boyfriend in bed was all you needed. your legs were intertwined as well as your arms, foreheads pressed together as you felt his calm breath against your face. eyes closed peacefully and lips slightly parted, his sleepy features were enough to make your heart melt into a puddle.
as you watched him in his slumber, his eyes suddenly fluttered open, revealing the deep purple color that you adored so much. immediately upon seeing your face, a smile found itself on his.
"is it morning already?" a sleepy narancia asked, his hand that was originally around your waist now reaching to rub his eyes.
"not quite. it's around eight pm," you replied.
he responded with a simple hum before returning his hand to it's original spot. his eyes danced around the room, but eventually settled right on yours. once again he removed his hand, this time to brush your hair behind your ears so he can caress your cheek lovingly. the pad of his thumb was warm against your face, and you felt yourself shiver under his soothing touch.
"you're so beautiful," narancia cooed. you could see in his eyes how much he loved you, so deep and filled with passion, you got lost in them everytime.
the two of you lie there for a moment, enjoying the comfort of eachother, feeling the warmth and gentleness of eachother's touch. you could smell the air coming from outside, it was sweet, and you felt your eyes close as you breathed in the scent.
suddenly, narancia sat up, leaving you with just the trace of his hand against your cheek that you so desperately craved.
"are you getting up?" you asked.
"nah, i just need to stretch."
you see him raise his arms as high as he can above his head, letting out a quiet groan as he plops them back in his lap. he lets out a sigh before almost instantly falling back into bed, now facing the ceiling.
you take this as an opportunity to slither back into his strong, warm arms, your head nuzzled into his chest, and your arm draped across his waist. instinctually, his arms wrap around you, with one around your torso and the other resting on top of your head.
this was one of your favorite positions. the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his stomach slowly rising as he breathes, it almost lures you to sleep. you nuzzle a little deeper, just wanting to be as close to him as possible. he made you feel safe, protected, cared for—something you didn't feel very often with everything that goes on in your daily life.
"you know, my principessa," narancia whispered. "someday, i would love to marry you, and make you my wife."
with his sweet words, you felt him hold you closer as he caressed your hair.
"i want to spoil you, and be the best husband you could ever have. i want to give you everything, the world, even. you deserve it, amore mio."
slowly, you feel yourself starting to drift off to narancia's gentle voice, your body melting into him. hearts beating in sync with eachother, both filled with pure, gentle love.
"i will always protect you, y/n," he whispered into your ear. narancia slowly and softly placed a kiss on your forehead, very careful not to wake you, before nearly falling asleep himself.
"i love you."
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p.s. credits to the creator of the dividers♡
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yourneondemon · 2 months
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🏆 ¡MUCHÍSIMAS GRACIAS POR EL APOYO! 🏆
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graysoncritic · 5 months
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A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Introduction
Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography
I want to start this essay by admitting I’m actually embarrassed by its length. Why did I spend so much time on something I dislike? The truth is, I did not begin this with the intention of creating such an extensive, formal study of the Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing run and how it reflects the wider problems with DC’s handling of one of their most iconic characters. I was just trying to organize the thoughts that came up during discussions with other Dick Grayson fans. Before I knew it, I had enough material, enough desire to challenge myself, and enough frustrations to vent to properly create this monstrosity.
I did not begin this Nightwing run determined to hate it. In fact, I was ready to love it. As Taylor promoted the run before the first issue was officially released, I was so excited for it. As I read short interviews where he discussed Heartless, I could not wait to have a new, incredible villain. Foolishly, I believed Taylor when he said he loved Dick Grayson. 
Needless to say, I was disappointed. Then frustrated. Then angry. The beginning of any story is a period where writer and reader form an indirect bond, and as the story progresses, so do the highs and the lows of said relationship. As such, a reader’s tolerance for negative factors will either increase or decrease depending on their experience up until that point.
In other words, if the writer fails to earn the reader’s trust and instead takes their attention for granted, even seemingly insignificant details become irritating in a way they would not be if presented in a better story. In such scenarios, the reader can no longer overlook those minor moments because there’s little good to balance them out with. It is a death by a thousand cuts. 
In the case of Taylor and Redondo’s run, along with those thousand cuts are also broken bones, internal bleeding, head trauma, and severed limbs. A weak plot, simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, and, most importantly, a careless disregard for Dick Grayson and everything he stands for utterly destroyed my enjoyment of this series. 
It is still too early to tell what sort of impact Taylor’s (as of time of writing, still unfinished) run will have on Dick Grayson’s future portrayals. But just because we cannot predict its long term significance, it does not mean we cannot critique it. Currently, we simply lack the benefit of hindsight. 
If this essay were to have a thesis, then it is this: Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing not only fails to tell a compelling Nightwing story, but it also exemplifies a cynical, self-serving, and shallow approach to storytelling that prioritizes creating hollow viral moments to boost the creators’ own online popularity over crafting a good story, honoring the character in their care, and respecting his fans – fans who have, historically, often been women, queer folk, and other individuals who felt othered by a cisheteronormative patriarchal society. Taylor and Redondo’s thoughtless and superficial narrative not only undermine the socially progressive ideals they supposedly care for by propagating a cisheteronormative patriarchal worldview, but they also demonstrate a lack of love and understanding for the character in their care. At best, Taylor and Redondo have no interest in getting to know Dick Grayson, nor any respect for their predecessor and their contributions to this character. At worst, they despise Dick so much that they wish to reinvent him into something completely different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to appeal to a readership that never cared about Dick Grayson. 
I structured this essay so that, hopefully, each part will build on the ones that came prior. Naturally, because all aspects of a story are interlaced, there will be overlaps between each of the sections. As it may have become obvious from this introduction, I’ll be focusing primarily on the writing of this run. That is not to say that I will not address the art, but writing is the field I know most about, and so it feels only fair to focus my critique on that. 
I hope that by the end of this essay, I will have successfully proved that this run’s mishandling of different narrative elements betray a cynical appropriation of progressive ideology and a disregard and disinterest in what makes Dick Grayson so special to so many people. This is an attitude that is present within DC Comics’ current ethos as a whole.
Now, who is this essay for? Honestly, it’s probably not for Tom Taylor fans. I do not believe I’ll be persuading anyone with my writing, and, to be quite honest, neither would I say I wish to do so. Taylor and Redondo’s run has won numerous awards and has many dedicated fans who adore it for what it is. If that is you, then I’m glad. I wish I could be among your numbers. I wish more than anything that I could love this story. But I do not, and I know many others agree with me, and it is to them, I think, that I’m speaking to. As Taylor’s run is praised to heaven and back, I needed a safe space to voice my thoughts. This essay became this safe space. And to others who also feel unseen by the constant praise this run is getting, I think this could speak to you, as well. To be cliche and cringe, this will hopefully let you know that you are not alone. 
Finally, I want to acknowledge some people whose thoughts greatly contributed to the creation of this essay. For around three years now I’ve been having wonderful interactions with other Dick Grayson’s fans, and those discussions were not only incredibly fun and cathartic, but also provided great insight into what needed to be included in this essay. My best friend especially gave me a space to vent when I got frustrated, and my original outline borrowed a lot from the messages I sent her, as well as notes I took for our discussions.  
I’ll also be directly quoting four different Dick Grayson fans (identified as Dick Grayson Fans A, B, and C in order to allow them to keep their anonymity). Their analyses were so critical to the formation of my thesis and for a lot of what will be addressed in this essay that I actually feel like they deserve co-credit in this essay. Dick Grayson Fan B especially deserves a shoutout in helping me track down a couple of pages used as supporting evidence, as I knew what pages I was looking for but was having a hard time remembering in which issue they were located. I’m quoting them with permission, and crediting their ideas and contributions whenever relevant. 
Now, without any further ado, let’s get started. 
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bbyobbyo · 4 months
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You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.
content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol
wc: 1.6k
note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe
[read pt.2 here!]
Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.
Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.
In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.
Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.
-
You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.
Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.
You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.
[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it
[8:06 am] Do what????
[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁
[8:07 am] 👍👍👍
You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?
Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.
-
Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.
Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.
He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.
-
Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.
It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.
“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.
Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.
Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.
As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.
As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.
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Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.
Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.
“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.
536 notes · View notes
weirdkpopgirl · 3 months
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Type of Boyfriends | Dream Headcanon #15
Headcanon: Type of Boyfriends
Genre: Fluff, a little angsty in some parts
Warnings: light mentions of anxiety and feeling insecure
Word Count: ~2.7k
Author's Note: I was actually planning on writing something for Haechan today. But I had the content for this headcanon pre-planned for quite some time now, so I just thought it would be good to actually write it. Also, I haven't been making a lot of group posts lately—so this is me making up for it lol. I know this idea isn't super original, but I wanted to make my version of it. I'm sorry if the scenarios are written badly, but I still thank you for reading ^ ^
~ ~ ~
mark
Mark is the type of boyfriend who feels like your best friend but with the added warmth of kisses and hugs. He loves taking you on spontaneous midnight drives, where carpool karaoke becomes your shared stage, belting out your favorite tunes together. Music is a big part of your relationship, with shared Spotify playlists that reflect your combined tastes and moments. Whenever you’re feeling down, he grabs his guitar and serenades you with Bruno Mars or Day6 songs, lifting your spirits with his husky yet gentle voice. He’s also the type of boyfriend who writes songs about you, with lyrics so touching they bring you to tears.
He’s the type of boyfriend who attempts to cook for you but ultimately results in a comedy of errors. But they always end in laughter as you step in to save the kitchen from further disaster. His cooking skills would likely improve over time, with your guidance. You’d patiently be teaching him the proper way to cut vegetables or how much seasoning should be put in a dish. But he’s the type of boyfriend to lose focus because he keeps getting distracted by how pretty you look. And then you’d blush profusely when you caught his gaze and scold him for not listening.
He’s the type of boyfriend to give you bone-crushing hugs whenever he finds something you did cute. He especially does this when you get annoyed at him for something, finding the furrow of your brows and pouty lips to be so adorable. He’s the type to go in for long kisses after being away from you for a long time. His career often keeps him away, leaving him longing for the moments he can be with you. He’s the type of boyfriend to give kisses that are so warm and tender, filled with a depth of emotion that speaks volumes about how much he cherishes you. Each kiss feels like a promise, a reassurance that no matter how far apart you are, his heart is always with you.
He’s the type of boyfriend who would geek out with you over shared interests, like Spiderman. Whether it's discussing the latest movie or comic book, these moments of shared enthusiasm bring you even closer. He’s the type of boyfriend who would watch k-dramas with you and enjoy ranting with you about the characters. These shared experiences, filled with laughter, debates, and discussions deepen your bond and create fond memories to look back on.
All in all, Mark is the type of boyfriend who is a unique blend of friendship, romance, and genuine affection that makes him the perfect partner, someone who brings joy, music, and a sense of adventure into your life.
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renjun
Renjun is the type of boyfriend to be motherly at times with how attentive and caring he is. He’s always looking after you in subtle ways, like telling you the weather beforehand so you know to wear a jacket before your date. When you share your insecurities with him, he responds by creating beautiful paintings or drawings of you, turning your worries into art. He's also the type to blush when you compliment him but cleverly turns the praise back on you, making you feel just as flustered.
He’s the type of boyfriend who loves planning and sharing things with you, like maintaining a shared Pinterest board of matching couple outfits you both should try. He’s the type to enjoy doing your skincare routines together during sleepovers, transforming these moments into intimate bonding experiences. He has a great sense of style and is the type of boyfriend who helps put together your outfits, and even learns how to style your hair to make sure you feel confident and beautiful. He’s also the type of boyfriend to patiently untangle your earphones when you get frustrated trying to do it yourself.
He’s the type of boyfriend to be deeply empathetic and share his concerns with you, valuing open communication in your relationship. He’s not afraid to show his emotions, and he tears up when he hears about your hard times, feeling your pain as his own. His thoughtful nature ensures you always feel understood and supported. When he’s the one dealing with hardships, he appreciates you just being there to hug him and talk him through his thoughts. No matter what’s troubling him, your presence alone makes him feel a little better.
He’s the type of boyfriend who may not be as physically affectionate as the other members. Though he doesn't kiss you often, it’s always behind closed doors when he does. Similar to Mark, he’s the type of boyfriend whose kisses are long, deep, and sincere, filled with unspoken affection and love. But he’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you with pecks to the lips when he finds you cute.
Ultimately, Renjun is the type of boyfriend who truly cares for you in every way, creating a relationship built on mutual respect, understanding, and deep emotional connection. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know how much he loves you, you can just feel it whenever you look at him.
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Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is the perfect balance between a strong, masculine presence and a soft, affectionate soul in your relationship. He’s the type to exude a protective aura that envelops you where you go. When you're out together, his hand naturally finds its place on your back or waist, ensuring your safety and comfort. He's attentive to small details like positioning you on his left side, away from the street, and readily offering his jacket when the weather turns chilly. These gestures not only showcase his protective instincts but also his possessive side, reminding you and others that you’re his.
He’s the type of boyfriend to keep you on your toes with how affectionate he can be. You never truly know what to expect from him. Sometimes, he surprises you with kisses so deeply passionate that they leave you breathless. Yet, in quieter moments, he transforms into a cuddly sweetheart, speaking in an endearing aegyo voice that melts your heart. His spontaneity and ability to switch between these sides of himself add excitement and tenderness to your relationship.
He’s the type of boyfriend who enjoys taking you on hiking dates, emphasizing how it’s good for your health. However, if you get tired by the end of it, he's quick to offer you a piggyback ride on the journey back, effortlessly blending his strength with his nurturing nature. He’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you by cleaning the apartment and preparing a warm meal for you after a long day of school or work. His thoughtfulness shines through in these acts of service, making you feel cherished and loved in practical ways.
He’s the type of boyfriend to be a compassionate listener who values your thoughts and feelings deeply. When you share your concerns or discuss something that's bothering you, he listens intently, his touch gentle as he traces comforting patterns on your hand. His ability to offer silent support and understanding strengthens your bond, creating a safe space where you can be vulnerable and open with each other. 
In essence, Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is a partner that fills your life with love and security. Being with him will make you feel like you’re stuck in the honeymoon phase forever.
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haechan 
Haechan is the type of boyfriend who thrives on affection, often expressing his neediness in the sweetest ways. He’s the type to never let you leave without a goodbye kiss, ensuring every parting moment is filled with warmth and connection. Whether in public or private, he shamelessly snuggles into you, finding comfort and security in your presence. He is the type to be playfully insistent on using pet names like "baby," "sunflower," or "handsome." He brightens up when you call him by his nickname "Hyuck," revealing his softer, more vulnerable side that's reserved just for you. 
He’s the type of boyfriend to enjoy teasing and banter, but knows when to set aside the jokes and be serious, especially when it matters the most to you. He’s the type to notice if something is upsetting you, even in a group of people. And he’d go out of his way to check on you to make sure everything was okay. He’s also the type of boyfriend to playfully beg you to cook his favorite dishes like kimchi jjigae, which you almost always give in to. 
He’s the type of boyfriend who includes you in his world, whether it’s letting you sit in his lap while he games on his PC or charming you with aegyo when he wants a kiss. Even during your toughest moments, his infectious humor never fails to make you laugh or smile. But on a more serious side, he’s the type of boyfriend who gets overwhelmed by how strong his feelings are for you. Just thinking about how much he loves you is enough to make him tear up. 
At the end of the day, Haechan is the type of boyfriend who is not afraid to be playful, and affectionate, and show how deep his feelings are for you. His ability to balance lighthearted moments with genuine sincerity makes every day with him an adventure filled with laughter, love, and heartfelt connections.
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jaemin 
Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is a walking green flag, embodying all the qualities of a loving and considerate partner. He never holds back his affection, constantly showering you with hugs and kisses, and always maintaining some form of physical connection, whether it’s hand-holding or resting a hand on your knee. He’s the type of boyfriend to send daily texts to check up on you if he’s at work, showing his continuous care and concern for your well-being. He’s also the type to scold you for skipping meals or getting sick, even when he does the same sometimes.
He’s the type of boyfriend to shamelessly flirt with you, making you blush with his playful comments and cheeky smirks when he catches you staring at him from across the room. He’s the type to talk about your future together during cuddle sessions, sharing your dreams of getting married and having kids. Beyond physical touches and sweet words, he’s the type of boyfriend who loves to cook for you whenever he can, and he gets equally happy when you cook for him, appreciating every gesture of care you show.
He’s the type of boyfriend who is generally easygoing, though he has his moments of jealousy. He gets laughably envious when you give more attention to his cats than him or when you rave about how Jeno looked on stage. These moments of jealousy are never overbearing but rather endearing, showing how much he values your attention and affection. And he loves that you always reassure him that your heart belongs to him. 
He’s the type of boyfriend to take countless photos of you on your dates. Even if you don’t love having your photo taken, he just can’t resist capturing your beauty. Besides, he insists it's for the memories to look back on when you two are old and fray. He’s the type to have his phone gallery filled with pictures of you, and he proudly shows them to his members from time to time. While you could point out all your flaws in one picture, Jaemin never even looked at them. No matter how insecure you might be, he’s the type of boyfriend to make you feel pretty.
Simply put, Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is practically perfect with his unwavering support and daily reminders of his love. Being in a relationship with him is nurturing, fun, and filled with dreams for the future.
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chenle 
Chenle is the type of boyfriend who can be really annoying at times, but you can’t help but love him for it. He loves to joke around and make you laugh, especially when you're feeling down. When he does something that annoys you, he’s quick to make it up with a lot of hugs, using affection to win you over. Most of the time, you end up giving into his silliness and laughing with him. 
He’s the type of boyfriend to buy gifts for you quite often, something you kind of had to get used to. He’s the type to surprise you with things he’s seen you admiring online or at a store. Even if you scold him for not saving his money or spending it more wisely, Chenle insists that as your boyfriend, it’s part of his job to spoil you. 
He’s also the type of boyfriend to share his passions with you, whether it’s taking you to see a Warrior’s game or having you watch and cheer him on as he plays basketball. His excitement for these activities becomes even more meaningful when you join in, creating shared experiences that deepen your bond. He’s also the type of boyfriend who enjoys traveling and exploring new places with you. He loves taking you out, whether it’s to explore the rural areas of Korea to eat gukbap or book a surprise trip to Shanghai. His spontaneous nature keeps your relationship exciting and full of adventure, with each trip creating cherished memories. 
He’s the type of boyfriend who regularly gushes to you about how cute the members are, but gets all shy when you also call him cute. He’s also the type to feel a little betrayed when his dog, Daegal, likes you more than him. However, he can never be sulky for long because he can’t really blame her. And he admires how you always make sure his daughter runs back into his arms.
Altogether, Chenle is the type of boyfriend to keep your life vibrant and full of love with his playfulness, generosity, and genuine care. Although he drives you crazy at times, he teaches you how to have fun and live in the present.
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jisung
Jisung is the type of boyfriend who is super shy in the beginning but gradually becomes more comfortable and open with time. He’s the type to hide behind your back or bury his face in your shirt when he gets embarrassed about something. He’s the type of boyfriend who also loves being taller than you, not in a teasing way, but because it makes him feel more protective. He secretly loves it when you compare the size of your hands, although he blushes every time you do it. 
He’s the type of boyfriend to ramble about his curiosity and interests to you. He enjoys talking about the wonders of space and aliens, letting you into his fascinating world of thoughts. He also loves talking about things like MBTI with you and finds joy in learning about yourselves together. Sometimes, he even rants about his debates with Chenle, showcasing his playful and thoughtful side. 
He’s also the type of boyfriend to have a lot of serious conversations with you, usually reserved for late nights. He’s the type to lay his head in your lap as he shares what is on his mind. The gentle stroking of your fingers through his hair helps him feel calm and at ease. Sometimes he doesn't even need to say anything, for your open arms provide all the comfort he needs. He’s the type of boyfriend who loves when you hug him, often calming down when anxious thoughts run through his head. Cuddles are even better, especially when you get to fall asleep in each other’s arms, feeling completely safe and loved.
He’s the type of boyfriend who can be quite sentimental, especially when he’s on tour. He misses you deeply and has been known to cry when he thinks about how much he misses you. These moments highlight his deep emotional connection and attachment to you. He’s also the type to feel incredibly touched when you do simple things like cooking for him or surprising him with bunggeobang on a cold day, appreciating the warmth and love you bring into his life.
Over time, Jisung is the type of boyfriend you can build a deep, emotionally mature relationship. Even if he might be the youngest in his group, his maturity shines when he’s with you. He evolves into a loving and thoughtful boyfriend who cherishes every moment with you.
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previous masterlist -> current masterlist
436 notes · View notes
zh-lele · 9 months
Text
12-7 ROOM (part two)
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Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.
▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader
▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff
▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity, suggestive jokes, kissing, and some very light suggestive scenes.
▪︎Word count (part 2): 7721 words
playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories
Author's note: hi everyone :') sorry for being so absent and never posting the final part to 12-7 room. But hey, I finally got the motivation to do it. I've been also writing other things but I don't know when I'll finsih them or post them. Anyways, if you want to take a look, the other things I'm always working on are listed on my wips page. Once again, sorry for taking too long to post this and I hope someone can enjoy it anyway. Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Seriously, thank you. This isn't proof read so tell me if you find any mistakes, please and thank you. Enjoy!
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Saturday, 08:37 p.m.
"I feel like we're betraying Mark."
"Why?"
"We're having a sleepover without him," you explain to Donghyuck while you extend your left hand to him, and he places his right hand over your palm, so you can continue painting his nails with a black polish. "You know, we're listening to Bruno Mars, eating watermelon–"
"Aren't we supposed to eat watermelon in the summer?" Donghyuck interrupts you to ask.
"Real watermelon enjoyers eat watermelon no matter what time of the year it is–Hyuck!" you scream after he makes a sudden move to grab a piece of fruit from the bowl and half his index finger ends up covered in black nail polish. "Stop moving your hand!"
"I'm sorry!"
He apologizes and stays still in front of your body, legs crossed and knees touching yours. Donghyuck is so close you can feel his breath in your hair, and even though you know it's impossible for him to hear your heart-rate increasing exponentially, you fear the closeness and the intimacy may give you away. Honestly, by this time you thought you might have figured it out: you had to either rethink your relationship and conclude that you were only going to be friends forever, or accept your feelings and confess to him, no matter what the outcome could be.
But you find yourself finishing Donghyuck's nails and looking up to him, who was–as more often as you thought–already looking at you. He smiles to you sweetly, no teeth on sight, and he looks ridiculous. Donghyuck is wearing a sheet mask with the form of a peach, yet you still find the sight in front of you incredibly endearing. The worst part about it is that you're looking as ridiculous as him, with the lemon-shaped sheet mask covering your face. You feel his thumb gently caress the back of your hand that he was still holding even long after you've finished. And as his soft features are illuminated by the warm dim lights of the lamp and the TV, as he holds your hand and looks at you as if you might be the prettiest lemon he has seen, you get that feeling again.
The comfort, the domesticity. The urge to be his companion, to share moments like this and many more. Every day.
Your phone buzzes as you set an alarm to take the masks off twenty minutes ago.
Donghyuck lets your hand go. He lets go of your heart too—but only for a second. He cradles your face, his soft fingertips pet your jaw, then your cheeks, and you can't hold his gaze anymore. You want to look down, drop your head before you start word-vomiting everything you're feeling and you've been feeling for him since the moment you met, since that first time he cooked ramen for you and you decided you wanted it to be your comfort food forever.
Donghyuck won't let you look down, though. He applies pressure with his fingers in the place where your neck and your jaw meet and with his thumbs on your cheeks. Your lips naturally pout under the pressure and you see it. Donghyuck. Your best friend. The guy you've liked forever now, looking at your lips for what you think it's been like the fourth time this weekend. And it's only been hours since the weekend started.
Is it really going to happen? Are you about to kiss Donghyuck right now? On the living room's couch on a saturday night in, under the dim lights, while Silk Sonic's Love's Train plays in the background and you're wearing fruit-shaped sheet masks?
It is fucking romantic.
Yet it never comes.
It doesn't happen.
Donghyuck just says: "It's time to take the masks off."
And you agree because, well, what the hell are you supposed to do? Just throw yourself all over him like you, maybe, have been imagining? Donghyuck takes your mask off your skin and you take his, that leaves his face looking the softest and smelling like sweet peaches. That definitely doesn't help your situation.
You're incredibly frustrated. Upset, even, like a kid who got denied his candy. (You wish Donghyuck was your candy.) You hate this sleepover now and even wish Mark was here to cock-block the entire situation. That would be less upsetting.
"And?" He asks once both of you have your masks off. "Do I look cuter now?"
Oh, so he's aware he's already incredibly cute.
You can't contain a smile. He's only centimeters away from you after he quickly moves back to look for his glasses. You feel the need to poke his cheeks that look as soft as marshmallows and smell like fucking peaches. Actually, you might feel the need to eat him.
But you don't dare say anything. Only trying to hide your smile looking down, as your face grows red, you let Donghyuck think of his own conclusions after your reaction.
Thing is, you're kind of a coward.
Donghyuck says it's time to netflix and chill, and you laugh because the statement is followed by a "Literally. Don't start thinking about something dirty."
He places himself on the mattress on the floor (the one you've been sleeping since you arrived), a bunch of pillows supporting his back, and makes room for you. He's cheeky enough to pat his stomach to tell you to lie there, between his legs and over his body. Just like that, as if you hadn't been melting before just by holding his hand in yours or having your knees touch. And now he wants you to lie on his stomach?
Are you really that close? If so, why isn't he your boyfriend yet?
You open your eyes wider and point a finger at yourself. "Me. Me?" Your voice comes out full of disbelief.
"Not you. Mark," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Of course it's you! Unless you don't want to lay together?"
"I mean…"
How do you make it sound not so desperate, not too obvious?
You just shrug and say, "Yeah, sure."
Aced it.
Donghyuck's body feels like the softest mattress you've ever laid on, like you could close your eyes and sleep trapped in his limbs forever. And because of the closeness, you can sense the vibrations of his voice traveling from his torso to your ears. His tone is quiet and gentle, talking about what to watch to no one in particular because, even though he's talking to you, you're too concentrated on opening your camera and capturing the moment in a video of the two of you.
"Look how cute," you say, moving your arm to his eye level to show him the video. "You talk in pout when you're really concentrated."
When you're conscious of the surroundings once again, you're sure you've replayed the video with a smile on your face like ten times.
"You should upload that."
"I've posted enough about you," you reply to his suggestion, going back and saving the video to your drafts. "People are gonna think you're my boyfriend or whatever…"
"Would that be so bad?" Donghyuck questions with his eyes fixed on the TV screen. When you move your head back to look up at him, he dares to connect eyes with you. "People thinking I'm your boyfriend?"
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Sunday, 12:02 p.m.
Donghyuck had always been clingy.
Yet you didn't know he could be this clingy in the mornings.
Mark has been trying to get Donghyuck out of bed for like ten minutes now, but he won't get up. While your brother is pulling his arm out, Donghyuck pulls Mark's arm in, asking him to join him and sleep 'just a little more'.
Yes, your brother found you both sleeping on the mattress in the living room. No, you and Donghyuck were not clinging to each other (sadly). But Hyuck was for sure clinging to your brother now.
"Mark!" He protests in a sleepy tone. "What do you want if you won't come in?"
"We were supposed to have brunch together," your brother tells Donghyuck again, yet he must be too sleepy to process what's happening.
"I won't go." Donghyuck states and doesn't even open his eyes again. The living room is clear enough, as the winter sun has been hitting for hours now. But it isn't an impediment for him to curl up under the blankets like a burrito and go back to sleep.
Mark drops his shoulders and allows himself to sigh, finally defeated by his heavy-sleeper best friend. "I guess it's just you and me, y/n."
Fortunately for you, the weather has been amazing since you arrived in the city where your brother lives. Saturday was no different, with a clear blue sky above your heads despite it being winter, and the sun shining just the right amount to touch your skin and leave it warm. A little breeze messes with you and your brother's freshly dyed hair as you sit outside a coffee shop, brunch almost all devoured on the table. Mark hums to a familiar jazzy tune that plays all the way from inside the café.
And the atmosphere is beautifully calm. But you need to get something out of your chest. For once.
"So," you start and Mark moves eyes from his food to set them on you, expectant of your next words with a mouth full of pancakes and fruit. "I think I like Donghyuck."
Mark starts coughing after hearing you, and you wonder if it is because of the shock of your confession or because he really is that careless to get the food stuck in his throat.
"Yeah, I knew," he confirms once it's clear for him to speak again.
"The fuck you mean 'you knew'?"
"I mean, honestly, it's pretty obvious." Your brother can't hide a smile. He drops the fork to properly talk to you this time. "Like, you've always had some kind of thing… I don't know, I thought I had a special connection with Hyuck," he says pointing at himself, eyes wide with what could look like a little bit of shock. "But you two… You two are something else."
"Oh God," you cover your face in embarrassment even though after your brother's words there's no point in hiding anything anymore. "So you've been watching me acting like a fool in love around Donghyuck all this time, and you said nothing."
"I didn't say anything 'cuz I thought it had to come from you." He shrugs. "Wanted you to feel comfy enough to tell me, even though I had my suspicions, obviously."
"May I ask… Why," you hesitate a little before asking for a third-person perspective. "Why were you suspicious about it?"
"Dude, I don't know," a small laughter escapes him. "You just look like you'd be all over each other if you could."
You just groan in frustration hearing your brother saying you might have been way more obvious than you thought you were. Temperature rises to your cheeks coloring them a little red, and not because of the midday sun hitting right from above your head.
"And you can," Mark says, yet you don't get it, the tilting of your indicating he has to clarify. "Like, you can be all over each other. I don't know why nothing has happened between the two of you yet."
"'Cuz I don't know if he likes me?"
"How could you know if you don't try?"
Your gaze drops to your lap, and you realize you've been playing with the rings of your hands, taking them off and putting them on over and over, indicating the conversation is making you a little nervous.
Mark must notice, since he keeps talking. "Just tell him, dude. Best case scenario, he also likes you, you move out together and make me free from Donghyuck's ass."
The way he puts it makes you laugh, yet there's a slight weight to your eyes, as if tears could start falling down slowly at any time after holding your feelings in for so long. So you take a deep breath, blink a few times and look at the sun.
The sun, shining in its maximum splendor in the middle of the sky. And you wonder what he's doing right now. Donghyuck, or Haechan, as his mother used to call him when he was little. Full Sun, because he's always so bright and energetic, like a happy virus (Mark would also call him a pain in the ass, but you see, it depends on who you ask.)
"Worst case scenario, you remain as good friends," Mark continues. "C'mon, you know him, he's not a dick. You just gotta try talking to him."
You gulp and nod at him, now trying to make eye contact with a subtle smile on your face. Another deep breath. "You're right. Donghyuck won't hurt me, no matter what the outcome is."
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Monday, 01:43 a.m.
On Mark's phone...
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Meanwhile at the livingroom...
"Hyuck–wait. Can't we go slower?!"
"Look at that!" Donghyuck screams pointing at the TV screen, after taking the airpod off his right ear. You do the same with the one you were using, and the music from the game stops playing in your head. "I got a perfect score!" And he continues to do a silly victory dance, moving his hips from side to side with his arms in the air.
You really don't want to be mad at Donghyuck right now.
"This is so unfair," you tell him, stepping out of the frame and leaving the remote on top of the game console. "You didn't tell me you were this good. And you know I can't dance at all."
"You're right," Donghyuck says sincerely, a hand on his chest, right in front of his heart and all. "I didn't tell you I'm a dancing god and took advantage of your poor dancing skills to win the Just Dance."
You really don't want to get mad at him, but sometimes he makes it pretty much impossible.
"You." A hand comes in contact with Donghyuck's arm. Your hand. "Dirty." Another slap. "Bastard." And another one. "I hate you so much!"
"Hey!" He protests rubbing his arm after you slapped it. "Lying is a sin."
"I'm not lying," you say. "I hate you. You put on the fastest choreo to follow."
Donghyuck follows you around to the kitchen and watches your every move. He's right behind you, his eyes following your motions when you fill a glass with water, when you gulp it down, when you clean it and leave it back on the counter. He's hot on your heels when you come back to the common area and take the inflatable mattress out to get ready to sleep. He's still following your moves carefully when you put on the sheets and when you lay on it with the remote of the TV in hand. He only takes his eyes off your body when the Netflix logo appears on the screen and he notices you're about to watch the show you two started together.
You know he's dying for a word from you.
"You don't mean it," he says, now free of all mocking tones.
"I don't mean what?"
"You don't hate me."
You're pretty sure Donghyuck doesn't need you to confirm that you weren't serious. Naturally, he has always shown himself as a very self-assured and friendly person; It's not normal that people don't like Donghyuck. However, when you meet his eyes, wide and expectant of your response, and perhaps wet with a little insecurity, you understand that things are not always what they seem.
"How could I ever hate you, Hyuck?" you tell him to extend a hand in his direction, inviting him to lay on your side on the mattress. 
Relief takes over his expression, and a wide smile is plastered on his face. He's quick to get comfortable (maybe too comfortable, not that you really mind) laying his head on your lap, and moving your left hand to his hair that looks like it's got longer over the days. You know he wants you to play with it—Donghyuck loves getting his hair played with. The fourth episode of My First First Love starts playing on the TV screen, and you hear Donghyuck sigh contentedly.
The subtle strokes at the hair on his nape get Donghyuck smiling again and exhaling deeper at your tranquil touch. And, not to be biased, but the colored lights coming from the TV highlight the softest, most beautiful face features you've seen in your life. In an act of courage, you move your fingertips from his hair, to his sharp jaw, to his cheekbones, gently caressing the warm skin.
Donghyuck moves his head on your lap until he's no longer watching TV. Neither are you. You're just staring at each other in silence. He's letting you stroke every part of skin until  the tip of your fingers make it to his lips. His plump pink lips that have been tempting you more and more the past days. And he places a kiss there. On the tip of your fingers.
You freeze and grow red. Then he places another kiss, and another, making it three the times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin.
It may be driving you crazy.
He's careful with his movements, so careful it turns almost painful watching him. Donghyuck grabs your wrist and gets up to sit beside your spot on the mattress. Doesn't let go of your hand—instead,  he holds it tenderly, caresses the back of it with his thumb, then places another kiss there.
Four times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin. Five. Six—he just placed a kiss on your palm. Wait, another on your wrist. That's seven kisses so far.
But it's not enough. Now you've felt his lips you want them everywhere, all the time. So when he gets your hand closer to keep kissing you there, you grab his face. Feel the skin there, of his jaw, of his neck, and it's really hot. You think you might even feel the rapid pace of his pulse when you press your fingers on his neck (but it could also be your own.) Lastly, you tangle your fingers in his hair that he has let grow during these weeks of winter break. You tug on it a little, just enough to let him know you want him close. Closer, please.
And Donghyuck sighs, more like he fucking moans.
You wonder if you should say something before moving forward. What about all the things you talked to Mark yesterday? Should you tell him about how you feel before kissing him? What does he want? And what would this be after you kiss?
The call of your name interrupts your torment of thoughts.
"Please," he begs in a whisper, eyes closed as your noses brush against each other. "I'll die if I don't kiss you right now."
A laugh comes out of you because he always has to be that exaggerated, but you decide to set all questions aside for a moment to just dive into him.
He starts off very gently, with his slightly parted lips pressing against yours. They are indeed as fleshy and soft as they look, and taste like a cherries lipbalm. Donghyuck repeatedly places small kisses on your lips until you open your mouth a little more, and he captures your lower lip, biting a bit there. It gets another little tug on his hair from you, a sigh of relief after tasting his mouth after years of longing, and everything becomes more needy.
Donghyuck grabs at both sides of your head to deepen the kiss, smashing lips together repeatedly and kissing you sloppily. When you allow him to, he pushes his tongue into your mouth and you push your body closer to his.
He grabs your wrist not neglecting your lips even a second, as if the both of you were magnetized, and places his palm on your waist inviting you to his lap. It makes you laugh out of nervousness, so Donghyuck opens his eyes to watch you straddle him and place yourself on top of him very carefully.
His touch travels from your waist to the sides of your torso, his right hand in a place that you're sure allows Donghyuck to feel your increased heart rate. Your hands cradle his neck, then tug at the hair of his nape as he observes you kind of mesmerized, inhaling deeply, smiling a little and wetting his lips before you're diving into each other once again.
You've lost count of the amount of times you've felt Donghyuck's sweet lips on you by now. But you're sure of one thing: you don't want it to be the last.
"In case you were still wondering," he breaks the kiss to talk to you. "I like you, kinda a lot."
His hair is slightly disheveled from all the pulling, his lips are shiny and swollen, and he looks a little agitated. In his incredibly dilated black pupils you can see the reflection of your smile.
"I also like you, Hyuck," you finally confess to him. "I like you like, a huge amount."
He lets out a sigh of relief, more like a scream, and you're quick to cover his mouth reminding him that your brother is supposed to be sleeping five meters away from you. Yet, you can't help but laugh at his reaction.
He presses your foreheads together as his hands caress your sides, from your knees, to your waist, and to your lower back. Both your thumbs stroke his cheeks gently before you move to place some smooches there, in each of Donghyuck's moles (that is all over his face.) You think of all the times you imagined doing exactly that and find it hard to believe there's a possibility you could have Donghyuck any time you want now.
You only have to talk it out and see how things could progress between the two of you in the future. In the meantime, you'll keep smooching the literal personification of the sun (that might be because he feels hot as fuck right now, or because his smile is bright as the sun, or maybe he could be both.)
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(Still) Monday, 01:00 p.m.
Donghyuck has had his head over the clouds since last night. After a heavy make-out session with you and some cuddling, he went back to his shared bedroom to sleep at like four a.m., being the most quiet possible to not wake your brother up and maybe having him asking what the hell was Donghyuck doing with you in the living room until four in the morning. He can’t escape the knowing smile Mark gives him though, when he wakes up and sees Donghyuck already up and working at his desk.
Donghyuck pretends everything is normal, greeting Mark good morning as usual.
“Good morning, Melk.”
“You sound too happy,” Mark groans in response, still sitting on his bed only half awake.
Donghyuck checks the time on the corner of his computer; one p.m. during holidays is like eight a.m. to Mark. Your brother just sits there for a while and Donghyuck goes back to studying for amoment, until the silence of the room gets interrupted.
“Yo,” Mark calls to attract Donghyuck’s attention. “What you did last night was fucking nasty.”
“What–” Donghyuck tries asking, only to have Mark interrupting him.
“I heard you two going at it," he starts with a very serious expression that gets Donghyuck's blood completely drained from his face. What could've Mark possibly heard? "My sister was telling you to go slower and everything.'' Mark makes some gagging sounds to add to his point and Donghyuck grows as equally embarrassed and amused at your brother’s assumptions.
“You think we fucked?” Donghyuck asks in complete disbelief. An exaggerated nervous laugh follows the question. “With you in the house?” He points a finger at Mark.
“You didn’t?”
“Sorry to tell you what you heard was us playing Just Dance. The last choreo was too hard and y/n couldn’t follow it.”
Donghyuck watches his best friend rub the sleep off his eyes and get up from the bed while he denies with his head, looking kind of defeated. “You’re both the biggest losers I’ve ever known,” Mark says, referring to you and Donghyuck.
“Hey!” Donghyuck starts to defend himself, his eyes grow bigger as his brows go up, and the characteristic Donghyuck pout starts to show, like in every situation a discussion is involved. “It was fun! We had a good time, ask her.”
“Losers made for each other, I swear.” Mark emphasizes his point. “So you didn’t fuck.”
Donghyuck doesn't look up from his math notes to answer. There's no way in hell he's having this conversation looking at Mark in the face. “By now, I’m sure I might be a virgin again.”
“Dude, what the fuck,” Mark can’t contain a laugh, though. “That’s bad for your health. Get your dick wet already.”
“I’m just waiting for the right time with your sister.”
“Hey! You can’t joke like that anymore.” Donghyuck knows by Mark’s tone all the bickering has become dead-serious now. It has always been like this when it’s about you. First they joke a little about it, then Donghyuck reminds Mark how much he truly likes you, and lastly Mark tells Donghyuck to just confess to you already because he’s tired of hearing about it. “If you’re joking about my sister I’m gonna beat you up.” Mark reminds him.
“Sorry.” This time, Donghyuck is brave enough to face his best friend. It’s kind of hard for Donghyuck to believe it when Mark tells him he’s getting beated up, though, when Mark’s wearing the pajamas Johnny got him as a gift recently–some blue panty with a moose on the back that says ‘don’t moose with me’. “I’m not joking about her.”
“I know.” Mark covers the pajamas that distract his friend so much as he puts on his jeans. “You like each other so much it’s disgusting.”
Donghyuck can’t hide his smile after hearing that, and it reminds him of all the kisses you shared last night, which makes him grow red in the face. Nothing a little more bickering with your brother can’t hide.
“You’re sooo cruel to me, Markie.” Donghyuck tries to hug Mark before he’s leaving the room, but morning Mark has always been like a stray cat who doesn’t like affection (unless it comes from Yuta, which Donghyuck can’t comprehend very well but he supposes the japanese has something pretty magnetic.)
“Get off of me!”
“Only a lil’ kiss, pleaaase!”
They struggle at the door of the room and into the common area. Donghyuck with his lips millimeters from Mark's face while Mark tries with all his might to get away from Donghyuck, who can be like a tick. They're so caught up in their things neither of them has noticed you're there, observing the entire interaction.
“Why don’t you go and kiss y/n? I’m sure she’ll enjoy it,” you hear Mark say when he finally frees himself from Donghyuck.
It’s at this moment that you know you are hearing too much, so you clear your throat to let them know that you are there too. They both freeze after turning around and seeing you sitting at the kitchen island. Your brother Mark, the great opportunist and master at escaping from uncomfortable situations, greets you good morning and is off to work in a second, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the apartment.
You watch Donghyuck get closer to where you’re sitting. He hasn’t changed from his sleeping shorts and the hoodie he was wearing last night–the same hoodie you pulled on as you kissed in the same mattress laying meters behind him. Yet you don’t know how to describe the sensation you’re feeling right now. After seeing the boy you like the most fighting your brother for a kiss, your stomach feels… weird? You know the kind of relationship they have–they’re best friends, they bicker and fight and make up all the time. They live based on Donghyuck love-bombing Mark and Mark denying the affection all the time. But they love each other in a brotherly way, it has always been like that.
It’s not like you expected Donghyuck to want to hug and kiss you and only you after what happened last night, but you kind of did expect it.
Were you jealous of Donghyuck’s best friend, your own brother Mark?
Donghyuck looks at you confused when you don't accept his hug right away. You stop his arms midway, and his eyes look defeated, full of worry. “Did something happen?”
You deny with your head. “I don’t know, that kind of felt weird,” you confess to him.
Donghyuck caresses your arms, feeling you relax from the defensive attitude from before, until he gets your hands together. “What felt weird?”
It’s ridiculous, you know it is and you’re embarrassed about what you’re about to say. Yet, you can’t help but:
“I think I got jealous,” you say and watch his brows furrowed together. “You know, when you were trying to kiss Mark…”
Donghyuck only bursts out laughing and hugs you tightly against his chest, leaving you no time to escape the sudden affection. He smells like fabric softener and feels comfortable like a pillow. And you hate that you love the way his laugh resonates through your entire body when he presses you to himself like that.
“You know I never want to kiss Mark seriously, right? That I only do it ‘cause I know he hates it,” he explains once he’s separated from you, still holding your hands in his and looking you in the eyes. “I don’t want to kiss anyone the way I want to kiss you.”
You look down hiding your smile, thinking he’s cute at first and processing his words then, which makes you laugh a little. Donghyuck realizes right away and starts to laugh too, leaving the seriousness behind.
“Was that too much?” He asks.
You nod in response. “But it’s good to know.”
“Good,” he says before planting a kiss on your cheek. He’s only millimeters away from your face when he speaks again. “No need to be jealous then.”
Donghyuck turns you around on the chair, so your back is pressing against the island and he can stand comfortably between your legs. He starts as he did last night, planting a kiss on your knuckles, then your wrist, but you don’t wanna waste any more time so you free yourself from his hands and start cradling his face. His lips look as tempting as always, maybe even more after you tasted them for the first time.
He notices your look so he gives you a lopsided, attractive smile that you desperately wanna rip off his face.
“How can you look this handsome in the morning?” You ask, admiring all his features.
“I mean, technically it’s past the morning.” he answers in a cocky tone.
“Shut up already.”
You don’t give him time to fight back as you’re sealing his lips with a kiss. It’s slow but deep, and his skin feels warm and soft under your fingertips, all the way from his sharp jaw to his cheekbones. When he bites your lip a little bit to get full access to your mouth, you worry about the breakfast you were having minutes ago, but Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind:
“Mhmm,” he hums, breaking apart and licking his lips. “You taste like maple syrup.” And he steals another quick kiss from you.
“Yeah,” you say as you turn around to face the kitchen island again. “‘Cause you interrupted my breakfast.”
But despite you showing your back to him and trying to finish your food, Donghyuck won’t let you eat in peace. “Oh yeah,” he murmurs against the skin of your neck after he moves your hair to your left shoulder. He plants a soft kiss on your right side, sending shivers down your spine and making it hard to concentrate on your task. “I’m sooo sorry I interrupted you.” His tone is full of sarcasm as his kisses travel to your jaw and all the way down again. “And you hated it sooo much.”
The metallic sound of your fork falling off your hand and hitting the plate startles the both of you. Donghyuck stops sucking on your neck and you fall out of your trance. Your startled face might be somewhat funny, because Donghyuck starts giggling as you both realize you were enjoying his kisses a little too much.
“Let’s go on a date.”
“All of a sudden?”
He nods with a smile on his face. “It’s your last day here tomorrow. It’s not like we won’t see each other anymore but… I want to take you out before your last day here.”
“Okay,” you agree, matching his smile.
“Okay?” He asks once more and sighs contentedly when you nod your head yes. “I’ll go plan everything. Make sure you’re all mine this afternoon!” And he leaves the room after kissing your right cheek.
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(The busiest) Monday, 07:37 p.m.
“Hyuck, come on, there’s seriously no way of winning with those machines.”
“Babe, just one more try. I wanna get something for you.”
Donghyuck has been fighting against a claw machine for what felt like half an hour now. Since none of you weren’t able to win any of the games you tried at the carnival, you really appreciate his determination to win a prize for you this way. Yet you arrived here at five p.m., and after two rounds of bumper cars, after testing your strength at Ring the Bell (and both of you failing embarrassingly), riding the teacups, getting scared to death in the haunted house, and going twice into the Ferris wheel (one time for the sightseeing and pics and another time for kissing at the top of it) your stomach growls with hunger.
“We could’ve paid dinner with all the money you spent on this machine-”
“Wait, I’m about to get it!”
“Let’s just go get dinner.”
“But I’m about to get it!”
And you see it forreal this time: the claw holding a big Pochacco plushie and it falling right into the hole.
“Hyuck, you got it!” You scream in disbelief, a big smile taking over your face (maybe because of the cute plushie or maybe because it meant you were finally going to have some food.)
You watch Donghyuck lose his arm through the hatch and get it back, this time with the stuffed animal in his hand. When he’s presenting it in front of you, the stuffed animal is so big that it blocks your view. You admire it for a second, and then take it into your arms to discover a Donghyuck wearing the biggest smile you've seen in a while. He’s all cozied up, his jacket and stuffed hat making him look like a real life teddy bear. Even so, the cold of the winter has caused the tip of his nose and his cheeks to turn red, somehow making him look even cuter.
“I got it for you!” He says, the excitement not leaving his body even for a second.
You can’t contain yourself and, as an impulse, grab him from the jacket with your free hand and pull forward until your lips are meeting his. Just a short peck as a way of saying thank you, I love it (you.)
Neither of you realizes the little crowd you've drawn around the machines, not until you hear the applause and cheering as you're breaking away from your kiss. You’ve never seen Donghyuck get shy when drawing people’s attention, so this might be your first time noticing him trying to hide under his hat and into your embrace. You laugh it off even when you're equally embarrassed, but thank him for the plushie and tell him to run away from there to get dinner.
“I think I’ve liked you from the start,” Donghyuck confesses all of a sudden.
Well, maybe not so all of a sudden. While you two were having your dinner, bottle of beer came after bottle of beer. At some point of the night, you thought it was a good idea to start having soju. Donghyuck said something like “it’s our last night together, we should celebrate and get wasted” to justify your decision. So it may be the full stomachs and the alcohol making you be honest with each other.
“I know I’ve liked you from the start.”
“Aaall the guys knew too…” He slurs his words a little when speaking. “I wouldn't shut up about you.”
You can't hide your drunken, enamored smile when hearing him. But something makes a little noise inside your head. “All the guys knew?” You ask and he nods quickly. “Even Mark?”
“Even Mark,” Donghyuck confirms. “I mean, we always kind of had this joke going around that I was always waiting for you.” He pours himself another drink. “But we both knew it wasn't a joke.”
“Oh god.” You cover your face, embarrassed. “My own brother lied to me,” you say and Donghyuck makes a confused sound, which makes you keep explaining. “He pretended to know nothing about your feelings when I confessed to him that I liked you.”
“I asked him not to say anything.”
“Huh?”
“I wanted to tell you myself how much I like you.”
“Oh god,” it's all you can repeat right now, all these confessions and the alcohol making you grow hot everywhere. “It's so hot inside this restaurant,” you say as you take your jacket off.
Donghyuck knows the red on your cheeks isn't only because of the heat inside the place.
“I like you sooo much,” he says as he watches you giggle out of nervousness. Donghyuck calls your name and holds your hand over the table to try to get you to look at him, but you only giggle and hide your face with your other hand. “I'm in love with you!” 
“Okay, okay!” You're laughing by now, trying to cover his mouth to shut him up and not attract everyone's attention like you did at the carnival. “I'm in love with you too!”
“Good,” he says with an extremely pleased smile, that one that has always attracted you to him so much.
“Good?” you repeat and he nods.
Your phone screen lights up showing it's Mark calling you. You silently tell Donghyuck you're picking up and he lets go of your hand for you to do so.
“Yes?”
“Yo,” you hear Mark answer from the other side. “We're at Yuta's right now, we're working on some music with Taeil and TY so I think I'm just gonna crash here tonight.”
“Uhm, are you sure you don't wanna go back?” You ask and make eye contact with Donghyuck, who narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side after your question. You only shrug to him as a response.
“Nah, I'll leave the apartment for the two of you so make good use of it.” Your brother answers convincingly.
“Okay, I'll see you in the morning.”
“All right bet, see you in the morning.” And he's quick to hang up.
You take the phone off your ear and look at it confused for a bit, until Donghyuck breaks the silence. “Everything all right with Mark?”
“Yeah,” you say as you put the phone down. “He said he's not going back home tonight.”
“Oh.”
You think of the words your brother said. “Leaving the apartment for the two of you,” and “making good use of it,” and it hits you. A little bit late, but it hits you.
“Oh…” you repeat, a surprised expression now taking over your face.
“Yeah, oh!” Donghyuck agrees. “We're having a real sleepover tonight!”
But by the excitement in Donghyuck's face, the one a little kid would show when told he's sleeping at a friend's, you aren't convinced he thought the same way you and Mark did.
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(The last day at your brother's) Tuesday, 09:12 a.m.
The next morning, you wake up pretty confused. When you open your eyes, you're not sleeping at your usual spot. Your surroundings look very different from the living room where you've been sleeping every night. To your right, you spot Donghyuck's desk, filled with physics books, a pile of comics, and the typical empty Red Bull cans. The mattress also feels incredibly comfortable, soft but firm under you. But the most strange thing is the weight over your body, and a cologne you know very well and like very much flooding your senses. That's when you realize Donghyuck is laying all over you, stretched like a starfish.
You laugh and struggle to take your arms under him, and when you wrap them around the boy over you and squeeze, he starts to laugh too.
"Are the curtains open?" You ask in a voice still full of sleep.
He moves his head up to catch the smile on your face. "No?" 
"Then why is the sun so bright in my face?"
The smile spreads on his face and he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're so fucking cheesy." And he kisses you again.
“Get off,” you try to move him from over your face and your body. “I haven’t washed my mouth.”
“I don’t care,” he says, finally moving and sitting at the side of his bed, where you’re still laying in. “I’m not missing a chance to kiss you.”
“You’re sooo fucking cheesy,” you repeat his words.
“And you like me sooo much.” Donghyuck moves to the nightstand and grabs an aspirin and a can of Red Bull and brings them to your mouth. “Take, it’ll make you feel better after all we had last night.”
You sit up a little on the bed to do what he told you, and once you've swallowed the aspirin you let yourself fall back against his pillow. Donghyuck is still sitting on the edge of the bed, exchanging glances with you and holding your hand lovingly. He's wearing the Michael Jackson t-shirt that he likes so much and he's wearing his messy hair, just as you left it after pulling, fixing and messing it up while you kissed him countless times the night before.
You’re leaving today, and it’s like all the feelings you’ve accumulated these past years are hitting right now, all at once.
“I wish I could wake up like this everyday.”
“Hungover?”
“No, not hungover,” you laugh at his question. “With you.”
He smiles and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’ll figure it out.”
You sit up in the bed and search for the energy drink on the nightstand. After a few drinks, you’ve figured the morning breath can’t be so bad, so you move to face him properly and grab his face for a real kiss. Donghyuck doesn’t take long to reciprocate and start caressing your entire body. He’s always the first one to take the kisses to other places, so you take the lead this time. You discovered last night that Donghyuck can’t resist the kisses on his neck. You start placing soft kisses, then some licks until you suck a little and he fails to suppress a moan. He laughs it off and calls your name.
“I want to ask something important,” he says, looking you dead-serious in the eyes now, all the jokes and the desire aside. After you nod in response, telling he has your attention, he takes a big breath of courage. “It may seem a little rushed, but after all we’ve shared these years and after this week we’ve spent together, I don’t want you to leave without asking you to go out with me.”
You feel the temperature increase throughout your skin. Is he finally asking you to…
“Be my girlfriend?” As if he knew you from inside and out, he finishes your thoughts out loud.
Temperature reaches your face as well as probably the biggest smile you’ve worn since you got here. You cradle his face, squeeze his cheeks with your hands until a pout is showing and you can’t help but laugh—out of nervousness but also out of happiness, from having the sun in your hands and all for yourself.
“Lee Donghyuck,” you start. “That’d make me the happiest in the world, in the universe.”
“You’re sooo cheesy!” He starts the bickering once again, yet he’s sealing your deal with a kiss on your smile and, of course, you’re returning the affection.
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(Later that) Tuesday, 03:30 p.m.
You’re standing in the building’s hallway while your brother struggles to lock the door to the 12-7 apartment. Donghyuck is patiently holding your suitcase, waiting for Mark to be done. They’re going to accompany you to the bus stop that’s coming at four p.m. so you can finally go home to the rest of your family and your normal life—you’ll be back studying and working in a few days, after spending Christmas with the family and Donghyuck, who promised to be there to join the Christmas lunch at your home and—maybe, if he doesn’t chicken out—present himself as your boyfriend to your parents.
“We need to change the door lock before y/n moves in here,” Mark says after finally locking it.
“What?” Donghyuck and you ask in unison. “Moving here?”
“You’re not moving in with Donghyuck? I thought I’d finally be free from him,” your brother answers, kind of disappointed, but not as disappointed as Donghyuck after noticing how bad your brother wants him out.
“But where will you go?” You ask him.
“I made plans to share the floor with Yuta.” 
“That motherfucking japanese!” Donghyuck screams following Mark down the hallway, and you palm his back trying to reassure him, but your boyfriend won’t calm down. “I swear he wants to steal my best friend from me! He’s so jealous of my life!”
“What would he be jealous of, Donghyuck?” Your brother asks tiredly, and you know he’s rolling his eyes even if all you see is his back opening the building’s front door.
“Of our last-longing, incredibly unique friendship, of-fucking-course!” Donghyuck answers like it’s obvious.
“I’m pretty sure you just kept this friendship to get with my sister.”
“Mark?! That’s not true. I love you, man. Mark-Mark, come on!”
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taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm @minkyuncutie @bbh-kji @minhosprettywife
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dreamsfulblues · 4 months
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Finally joining MerMay
Have a Bruno merman
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Gosh during these drawings I sort up came up with AUs that are super corny. One of those drawings is a scenario from my AU PFFFFFF
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brunchable · 1 month
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The Morning After
Part I || Doctor Strange × f!reader × Steve Rogers
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Word count: 7.5K Characters: Black Widow Reader, Strange, Rogers, The Avengers Summary: You wake up in Stephens bed after drinking the Asgardian Ale Thor brought from Asgard. Warning: One night stand, Love Triangle? A/N: The photo ain't mine, I saw it on pinterest and I thought. . . what if y/n woke up in Stephen's bed? Also inspired by this song lol. I think all of my fics is inspired by a song. HELP. This is a multiple part story. I hope you enjoy.
PART II [R18+]- Coming soon.
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“Gather 'round, friends, it’s Thor, the God of Thunder, here to tell the tale of one fateful evening—a night when the legendary Asgardian Ale, brewed in the heart of the golden city. A brew so potent, it has brought down the fiercest of warriors, now, this tale is not of epic battles or heroic deeds, but rather of a night where this very ale claimed yet more victims from among the finest heroes of Earth.”
"Now, let me set the scene: it was a grand feast in the tower of the Man of Iron, where Midgard’s greatest heroes gathered to celebrate their triumphs. The mood was joyous, the laughter loud, and the drinks… well, the drinks were stronger than even the mightiest of Asgardians would dare admit!”
"Enter Doctor Stephen Strange, master of the mystic arts, and Y/N, the ever-resourceful Black Widow. Brave, cunning, formidable—yet even they were no match for the enchanting pull of the Asgardian Ale. Oh, they thought they could handle it, that it was just another drink… but little did they know, the ale had other plans!”
"And so, as the night wore on, the ale did its work. It loosened tongues, softened hearts, and—most importantly—muddled minds. By the time the moon had set and the sun was ready to rise, these two found themselves in a most… shall we say, unexpected situation.”
"For when the morning light crept through the windows of the Sanctum Sanctorum, the good Doctor and our dear Black Widow awoke to find themselves in a predicament that no amount of sorcery or spycraft could easily explain. There they were, side by side, both equally confused and—dare I say—horrified by the night’s unforeseen outcome!”
"What follows, dear friends, is a tale of confusion, awkwardness, and a series of events that might just lead to something more… or, at the very least, a very, very interesting morning."
× × × ×
The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow that danced across the ornate rugs and ancient relics scattered around the room. Doctor Stephen Strange stirred, his mind still foggy from the remnants of sleep, feeling an unfamiliar weight on his arm. 
The silk sheets, usually cool and comforting, felt oddly warm and heavy. He shifted slightly, the soft rustling of the fabric the only sound in the stillness.
As he blinked his eyes open, the grogginess quickly gave way to sharp clarity, and he was greeted by a sight that immediately jolted him awake: You, the Black Widow, your tousled auburn hair splayed out on the pillow next to his. The vivid auburn strands created a stark contrast against the deep blue of the pillows, and the way the sunlight caught the strands made them seem to glow. 
His movements woke you up, your eyes, wide with shock, were locked onto his, mirroring the panic that he felt.
Stephen’s mind raced, trying to piece together the events that could have led to this surreal scenario. The faint scent of your perfume, mingled with the familiar, comforting smells of the Sanctum, filled his nostrils. The warmth of your body next to his was both foreign and startling, a stark reminder of the unexplainable situation he found himself in.
Simultaneously, you both glanced down at the sheets, lifting them cautiously. The sight underneath made your eyes widen further. 
You exchanged a horrified look, your faces a mirror of disbelief. Quickly, you dropped the sheets, looked at each other again, and then, as if needing confirmation, peeked under the sheets once more.
"AHHH!" Stephen screamed, jerking away from you.
"AHHH!" You echoed, scrambling to sit up, clutching the sheet to your chest. "What the hell, Strange?! Look away!"
"What the hell, Y/N?!" Stephen shouted back, equally horrified but with his head turned away from you. "Why are you in my bed?!"
“Your bed?!” You looked around, recognizing the distinctive décor of the Sanctum Sanctorum, “Why am I in your bed!?"
“Shit.” Stephen rubbed his face, still trying to wake up fully.
You both sat there for a moment, the awkward silence, the sound of Wong humming a catchy tune as he walked past the door with a tray of breakfast pastries resonated into the room. He paused, glanced into the room, and then continued on his way without a word, though his eyebrows were raised high enough to practically touch his hairline.
"This is not happening.” Stephen groaned, running his hands through his hair. 
You remained quiet, looking traumatized while staring into space, forcing your brain to form any recollection.
"Last thing I remember, we were having that ridiculous amounts of Thor's Asgardian ale. Then we. . . we—”
Suddenly Thor laughing in ridicule echoed in his head. You Midgardians truly are a delicate lot, he said.
“We what?!”
“Underestimated it. . .?”
Just then, Wong finally walked in, this time holding a tray with teapots and cups. He paused mid-step, his eyes darting between the two of you. 
"I see the Doctor is taking 'house calls' a bit too literally now," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Wong, this is not what it looks like!" Stephen exclaimed, scrambling to his feet, the sheets tangling around his legs and causing him to trip while trying to cover his bottom half. He flailed, grabbing onto a nearby chair for balance, only to have it tip over, sending him crashing to the floor.
"Very graceful.”
Wong shook his head, setting the tray down on a nearby table. "I've seen strange things in this Sanctum, but this... this takes the cake. Breakfast is ready, by the way.”
"Wong, I swear, I don't know how this happened.” Stephen managed to extricate himself from the sheets and stood up, his face a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. 
"Sure, you don't. Just like you didn't know how the Eye of Agamotto ended up in the fish tank last week?” Wong raised an eyebrow. 
“That was a magical mishap!" Stephen protested.
Wong chuckled, heading toward the door. "Well, whatever happened, you two might want to get dressed before the rest of the Avengers show up for the morning briefing. Can't wait to hear the explanation for this one.”
Without a word, Stephen quickly conjured a portal to another room, vanishing through it in a swirl of golden sparks to get dressed and, more importantly, to escape the awkwardness.
You hurried to get dressed as well, eager to avoid lingering in the uncomfortable silence, and made your way to the meeting room. 
As you head to descend the grand staircase, your mind is still racing, seeing Stephen without his clothes—an image you've never dared to imagine before. You turned a corner and—thud!—collided directly with Stephen, who had just stepped out from his portal.
"Whoa!" you both exclaimed simultaneously, your voices overlapping in a jumble of startled sounds.
There was a moment where you both froze, staring at each other, shocked to see each other so soon when you planned to avoid Stephen the rest of the day. . . or indefinitely. 
Stephen recovered first, awkwardly adjusting his cloak as though it might somehow smooth over the situation.
"Uh, sorry, I—didn't see you there," he stammered, trying to step aside and give you space.
"No, no, it's fine," you replied quickly, waving it off with a forced laugh that sounded more nervous than casual. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
You both tried to continue walking as if nothing had happened, but in your haste to act normal, you ended up sidestepping in the same direction, then awkwardly shuffling the opposite way, only to block each other again.
"After you," Stephen said, his voice a bit too high-pitched with forced politeness.
"No, no, you go ahead," you insisted, waving him forward, though your hand gesture came out more like a nervous flail.
Finally, after an excruciatingly long moment of shuffling and half-smiles, you managed to move past each other, continuing down the stairs at a brisk pace, trying to put as much distance as possible between yourselves. 
You both knew you'd failed miserably at playing it cool, but neither of you dared to look back or acknowledge it. As you reached the bottom of the stairs and headed toward the meeting room, you couldn’t help but wonder if this day could get any more embarrassing. Judging by the start, it seemed likely. 
× × × ×
As you entered together, Tony Stark was already there, phone in hand. He didn't say a word, just snapped a photo the moment you both walked in.
"Morning, lovebirds," Tony said with a mischievous grin.
You groaned, shaking your head. "Seriously, Stark?"
Tony laughed, pocketing his phone. "Oh, this one's for the highlight reel. Don't worry, I'll send you both a copy."
As you took your seats, trying to ignore Tony's teasing, Thor walked in, grinning broadly. "Well, well, looks like my ale claimed a couple more victims. Didn't I warn you about its strength?"
Stephen groaned. "We might have underestimated it a bit."
"A bit? I think I need a new liver." You grimaced, rubbing your right side.
"Next time, perhaps you two will heed my warning. Asgardian ale is not for the faint of heart!” Thor laughed heartily.
You rolled your eyes, still in a grimace. You didn't remember him giving an actual warning, "Thanks, Thor. We'll keep that in mind."
"Next time, we're sticking to the lightweight stuff. Like water." Stephen added.
"Wise choice. But where's the fun in that?” Thor shrugged.
Just then, Barton sauntered in, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, I heard we had a slumber party at the Sanctum last night. Everyone had fun?"
"What did I miss?” Wanda raised an eyebrow.
“Oh these two here tasted the might of my Asgardian Ale!" Thor declared proudly, slapping Stephen on the back so hard it nearly knocked him out of his chair.
You and Stephen exchanged a quick glance. "Something like that," Stephen said.
Thor nodded, grabbing a seat. "Ah, the joys of revelry. Once, I woke up in a field surrounded by screaming goats. No idea how I got there.”
"That sounds... interesting, Thor. Thank you for sharing." You say with your best sarcastic tone.
“You’re welcome. The best stories come from the nights you can't quite remember. Especially when you wake up in unusual company.” Thor laughed with cheer, obviously taking a jab at the situation.
Steve, who had been quietly observing with a smile at the corner of the room, suddenly narrowed his eyes, sensing the tension.
You sank into your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Tony, what did you do?”
"Sorry," Tony replied with an unapologetic grin, "I think I accidentally sent your highlight reel photo to that unwanted group chat Banner created.”
“Wow, thanks Tony.” Bruce mumbled.
"Great, just what we needed," Stephen muttered, rolling his eyes.
Cap, ever the gentleman, quickly stepped in to steer the conversation back on track. “Alright, since everyone is here, let's focus on the briefing. Stephen, how's the mystical side of things?” 
× × × 
Stephen cleared his throat, trying to compose himself and focus on the task at hand. "Right, uh... mystical threats. So, recently, we've had some minor disturbances in other dimensions, particularly around the... um…”
He trailed off, his mind suddenly flashing back to the previous night. He remembered the two of you huddled in a corner, both of you giggling like kids, as you attempted to teach him how to perform a simple card trick without using magic. You had insisted it was a basic skill every “sorcerer” should know, and despite his vast knowledge of the mystic arts, Stephen struggled with the sleight of hand. Each time he messed up, you would burst out laughing, and eventually, so did he, the two of you caught in a cycle of laughter that seemed endless.
 Stephen blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. "Uh, disturbances... yes. There was an issue with a, uh, pocket dimension, near the, um..." His voice wavered as another memory surfaced.
This time, it was the two of you back at the Sanctum, stumbling through the portal he had opened, both of you laughing hysterically at something neither of you could now recall. You had accidentally knocked over a priceless artifact, and instead of being concerned, you both had fallen into fits of uncontrollable laughter. The sound of your laughter echoed in his mind, making his heart skip a beat.
He coughed, desperately trying to get back on track. "Right, so the, uh... the pocket dimension. We managed to stabilize it, but there were... complications. Minor, really…”
But his voice faltered again as another memory slipped through. This one was quieter, more intimate. The two of you were sitting side by side on the balcony, sharing a drink. The atmosphere was calm, almost serene, as you both watched the flamingos fly away. You had leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder, and he remembered the warmth of your presence, the soft sound of your breathing in the quiet night. He couldn’t recall what you had said, but he remembered the way it made him feel—content, at peace, and something more that he wasn’t ready to name.
"Doctor Strange?" Steve’s voice cut through the haze, bringing him sharply back to the present.
"Uh, yes, sorry," Stephen stammered, feeling his face flush. "What I mean to say is... the mystical threats are... under control. Nothing major. Just a few minor disturbances that we've, uh, managed to contain.”
As he spoke, his eyes involuntarily drifted toward you, catching your gaze for just a split second before he quickly looked away, his face turning an unmistakable shade of pink. He turned his head abruptly, pretending to adjust his cloak to hide the blush that had crept up his cheeks.
"You sure everything’s alright in the mystical world, Doc?" Tony asked, the teasing tone in his voice barely concealed.
Stephen nodded quickly, trying to compose himself. "Yes, absolutely. Everything’s fine. No major threats. We’re good. All clear.”
But as he finished, another flash of the previous night’s events hit him—a quick, jumbled memory of you leaning in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered something that made his stomach flip. He had no idea what you had said, but the memory of your breath on his skin was enough to make his heart race all over again.
"All clear," he repeated, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. His mind was anything but clear. If anything, it was more muddled than ever, filled with fragmented memories that both excited and terrified him.
Steve, sensing something was off but choosing not to press, simply nodded. “Alright then. If there's nothing else, we'll wrap this up.”
Stephen exhaled in relief, glad the briefing was over, but as everyone began to file out, Tony's grin only grew wider. He had clearly picked up on Stephen's discomfort. 
As you stood to leave, Stephen risked one last glance at you, his heart still racing. You were avoiding his gaze, your expression unreadable, but he could tell you were just as distracted as he was.
× × × ×
After the meeting wrapped up, the Avengers began to disperse, each heading off to their respective tasks. Just as you were about to leave, you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you saw Steve Rogers standing there, his usual calm demeanor in place, but there was something softer in his eyes as he looked at you.
"Y/N," Steve began, his voice gentle but carrying that unmistakable authority. "Got a minute?”
"Of course, Cap. What’s up?” You nodded, though you felt your heart skipped a beat. 
Steve smiled slightly at the use of his nickname, "I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… distracted today. Is everything alright?”
"Yeah, just… you know, last night's party and all that. Still trying to shake off the effects.” You hesitated, trying to decide how much to share.
"I understand. But if there’s anything more to it, you know you can talk to me, right?” Steve nodded slowly, but the way his gaze was glued on you made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. 
“Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that. Really, though, it’s nothing major.” You offered a small smile, appreciating his concern.
Steve studied you for a moment, his blue eyes holding an intensity that made your heart flutter. He seemed to be debating something internally before he finally spoke again, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"Listen, Y/N… I was about to head back to the compound, and I was wondering… do you need a ride?” 
"A ride? On your motorcycle?” 
Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. I know it’s not the usual mode of transport around here, but I thought you might like some fresh air. Clear your head a bit."
“That sounds nice, actually. I could use a little fresh air.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of riding with Steve on his motorcycle. It was such a classic, straightforward gesture—so very Steve.
“Great,” Steve said, and you could hear the relief in his voice, “Shall we?”
As you walked out toward the front of the Sanctum Sanctorum, your thoughts still spinning from the day’s events, you heard a voice call out your name.
“Y/N, wait,” Stephen’s voice, a little rushed and breathless, echoed through the hallway. 
You turned around to see him approaching, his expression serious but laced with something else—something you couldn’t quite place.
“Stephen?” you said, your hand resting on the doorframe. “What’s up?”
“I, uh,” Stephen hesitated, his eyes flicking from your face to somewhere over your shoulder, where Steve was waiting by his motorcycle. He seemed to be searching for the right words, but they didn’t come easily. His brow furrowed slightly as if he was wrestling with something internally.
You waited, feeling the weight of the silence stretching between you. There was a tightness in your chest, a nagging sense that something important was about to be said. 
You took a small step closer, trying to catch his gaze, but his eyes kept darting away, unable to meet yours for more than a fleeting moment.
“Stephen?” you prompted gently, your voice softening as you tried to encourage him. “What is it?”
He finally looked at you, really looked at you, and for a split second, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a carefully guarded expression, but that momentary glimpse was enough to make your heart skip a beat.
“I just wanted to have a quick chat before you head out,” Stephen finally said, though his voice was quieter than before, almost as if he was second-guessing his decision to speak up. “It won’t take long.”
The hesitation in his voice was palpable, and it only added to the growing tension between you. You could see the conflict in his expression—the way his jaw tightened, the way his hand flexed slightly at his side, as if he was holding himself back from saying something more.
You nodded, though a part of you was still trying to decipher the emotions playing across his face. “Sure, no problem.”
As you turned back to Steve, you caught a glimpse of him watching the exchange with a blank, unreadable expression, but it’s obvious that he was paying close attention. The realization that both men were acutely aware of each other’s presence only added another layer into your growing anxiety.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” you said to Steve, forcing a smile that you hoped would mask the unease that was creeping into your chest.
“Take your time. I’ll be right here,” Steve replied, his voice steady and reassuring, but his gaze lingered on Stephen for a moment longer before returning to you.
You offered Steve a grateful nod before turning back to Stephen, who had already started walking toward a quieter corner of the main hall. As you followed him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than either of you were willing to admit.
Once you were alone, Stephen stopped, his back to you for a moment as he seemed to gather his thoughts. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was conflicted, his usual confidence replaced by uncertainty since he doesn't know where or how to place himself.
"I just… I wanted to make sure everything’s okay between us after this morning," he began, his voice careful, measured. "I know things are a bit… awkward.”
There was a pause, and in that silence, you tried to read the emotions flickering across his face. His eyes, usually so focused and intense, were softer now. It was as if he was waiting for you to give him some kind of reassurance, something to ease the tension that had settled between you.
"I mean, everything's been chaotic," you replied, your own voice laced with a nervous edge, "but I don’t want it to make things weird between us either.”
Stephen nodded, though you could see the way his shoulders tensed slightly, as if he was bracing himself for something. "Yeah, I feel the same way. It’s just… I’ve been trying to piece together what happened last night. . .”
His words hung in the air, unfinished, as he hesitated again. You could sense the unspoken question lingering behind his words, the uncertainty that mirrored your own. But even as he spoke, his eyes searched yours, as if looking for an answer that neither of you were ready to give.
“It’s pretty clear what happened,” you interjected, your tone firmer than you intended. “I think it’s best if we just leave it as it is. . . My mind is already a mess, I just need some time.”
Stephen’s heart sank at your response, but he tried to hide it, his expression tightening for just a moment before he forced a nod. The disappointment that flickered across his face was subtle, but it was there, and it made your stomach twist with guilt.
He had hoped—needed—there to be more to say, a way to unravel the confusion that had been left hanging between you both, but your words made it clear that you preferred to bury the past, to move on without digging deeper. 
It wasn’t the answer he had wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to challenge it.
“Yeah… maybe you’re right,” he finally said, though the words felt hollow as they left his lips.
A heavy silence settled between you. Stephen opened his mouth as if to say something more, but then closed it, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. The weight of unspoken thoughts and unacknowledged feelings hung heavily in the air, filling the space between you with a tension that neither of you knew how to break.
You searched his face one last time, trying to understand the depth of what he wasn’t saying, but his expression had shifted back to that carefully controlled neutrality. Whatever he had been about to say, he had chosen to keep it to himself.
Finally, you took a small step back, glancing toward the door where Steve was waiting. “I should probably go. Steve’s waiting.”
At the mention of Steve, Stephen’s heart gave another uncomfortable lurch, and this time, he couldn’t completely mask the flicker of jealousy that crossed his face. It was brief, barely noticeable, but you caught it.
“Yeah, of course,” Stephen said, his voice more strained than before. “Don’t keep him waiting.”
You offered him a small, apologetic smile, sensing the shift in his mood but feeling it was necessary to draw a line. “Thanks for understanding, Stephen. I appreciate it.”
He gave a nod, though the word “anytime” felt almost like an afterthought, his voice lacking the usual warmth. There was something deeply unsettling about the way this conversation had ended, but you knew that pressing further might only complicate things even more.
With that, you turned and walked out of the room, leaving Stephen standing there, his thoughts a chaotic mix of regret and uncertainty. 
He watched as you joined Steve outside, noting the way Steve’s face lit up slightly when he saw you. The two of you exchanged a few words, and then Steve handed you the helmet with a warm, reassuring smile.
Stephen’s heart twisted painfully as he watched you climb onto the motorcycle behind Steve, your arms wrapping around his waist as you settled in. The sight of the two of you together, so close and comfortable, stirred a deep sense of jealousy within him—something he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely. 
He had kept his feelings hidden for so long, not wanting to complicate the dynamic between you, but seeing you with Steve, even for a brief moment, made him wonder if he had waited too long.
As the motorcycle roared to life and sped down the street, Stephen stood there, alone in the quiet Sanctum, grappling with the realization that he might have missed his chance to tell you how he really felt—a part of him couldn’t shake the thought that maybe forgetting wasn’t the best idea after all.
And as Steve drove, he glanced briefly in his side mirror, catching a glimpse of Stephen standing in the doorway, watching you both leave. Steve’s grip on the handlebars tightened slightly, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to focus on the road ahead. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the ride back to the compound had become far more complicated than he’d anticipated.
While the motorcycle sped down the road, the world around you seemed to blur into a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, guilt, and something deeper that you weren’t ready to face. 
You tightened your grip around Steve’s waist, trying to ground yourself in the present, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the look on Stephen’s face, the things you didn't give him a chance to say. And with each passing mile, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice—or if you were leaving something important behind.
× × × ×
The motorcycle roared down the winding roads, the wind rushing past you as you clung to Steve’s solid frame. The world around you blurred into streaks of color—trees, buildings, the sky—yet the rush of the ride did little to quiet the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind.
You should have felt the thrill of the ride, the freedom of the open road, but instead, all you could focus on was the conversation with Stephen. The way he hesitated, the way his eyes darted away from yours, as if he was hiding something—no, not hiding, holding back. The tension in his voice had been undeniable, and now, as you sped away from the Sanctum, you couldn’t help but wonder what he had really wanted to say.
Being Black Widow, you were trained to compartmentalize, to push emotions aside when necessary. But the events of the morning, combined with the tension between you, Stephen, and Steve, made it hard to keep everything neatly locked away. Stephen’s hesitation, his guarded expression, and Steve’s quiet concern—these were things you couldn’t easily ignore.
Your thoughts were interrupted as Steve turned slightly, his voice carrying over the noise of the motorcycle. "You okay back there?" he asked, his tone gentle, but with an undercurrent of concern.
You realized you’d been holding your breath and quickly exhaled, trying to shake off the lingering tension. "Yeah," you called back, forcing a smile that you knew he couldn’t see. "Just… a lot on my mind."
Steve nodded, though you could feel the way his body tensed slightly beneath your grip, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced by your answer. He knew you too well; he could sense when something was deeply weighing on your mind. "If you want to talk about it…"
His offer hung in the air, but you didn’t respond right away. What could you say? That you were torn between the memory of a night you couldn’t fully recall? That you were struggling to untangle your own emotions, not knowing if you should pursue them or let them go?
The motorcycle continued down a long, empty stretch of road, and you assumed you were headed straight for the compound. But after a few moments, you noticed Steve taking a turn down a road that didn’t lead in the direction of the compound. It wasn’t the familiar path back—this road led toward the outskirts of the city, a more secluded area.
"Steve?" you called, a note of curiosity creeping into your voice. "Where are we going?"
Steve didn’t answer right away, his focus on the road ahead, but you could sense the deliberateness in his actions. After a moment, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm but with a hint of something more—something determined. 
"Thought we could use a detour. Clear your head a bit before we head back. I think you need it”
Steve continued down the road, the city slowly fading away behind you. The landscape became more open, with rolling hills and patches of forest lining the sides of the road. It was a route you hadn’t taken before, and the unfamiliarity of it was oddly comforting—a break from the routine, a moment to breathe.
After a while, Steve slowed the motorcycle, turning onto a narrow, tree-lined path. The air was cooler here, the dense foliage creating a canopy overhead. Eventually, he brought the bike to a stop in a small clearing by a quiet, shimmering lake. The water was calm, reflecting the sky and the surrounding trees in perfect stillness.
Steve cut the engine, and for a moment, the silence was overwhelming. You both sat there, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. It was peaceful, almost surreal, after the whirlwind of emotions and confusion you’d been dealing with all morning. He took off his helmet and dismounted, looking back at you with a soft hesitant smile. 
"I figured you might need a break. This place… it’s always been somewhere I go when I need to think."
You followed suit, removing your helmet and stepping off the bike. The ground felt solid beneath your feet, and the cool breeze off the lake was refreshing, grounding you in the present moment. 
"It’s beautiful," you said softly, taking in the serene surroundings. "I didn’t know a place like this existed around here."
Steve nodded, his gaze fixed on the tranquil water. "Not many people do. It’s kind of a hidden spot, but it’s been here for as long as I can remember. I come here sometimes. When things get… complicated."
You glanced at him, his words resonating more than he might have realized. "It’s peaceful," you acknowledged, though your tone was still guarded, your mind alert even in this serene environment.
Steve watched you closely, his expression understanding. "You don’t have to talk about what’s on your mind," he offered, his voice gentle. "But I’m here if you need to."
It was a simple statement, but it carried weight. You were used to relying on yourself, keeping others at arm’s length. But Steve’s quiet presence, his never-ending support—it was different. Disarming, in a way you weren’t accustomed to.
There had been a time, not too long ago, when you had harbored a crush on Steve—a deep, confusing mix of admiration and affection that you had tried hard to push down. He was Captain America, after all—the embodiment of everything good and noble, and for a while, you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. 
But you had convinced yourself that his heart belonged to someone else, that he was still in love with Peggy Carter, the woman from his past who seemed to cast a long shadow over his present. You had seen the way he looked at Peggy’s picture, the way he spoke about her with such reverence, and it had made you believe there was no room in his heart for anyone else.
So you had buried those feelings, told yourself it was better to move on, to focus on your work, on the missions. You had even started to convince yourself that those feelings had faded, that they were nothing more than a fleeting infatuation. But now, standing here with Steve, you felt them stir again, refusing to stay buried.
And then there was Stephen. Your growing affections for him had caught you off guard—what started as a mutual respect for his intellect and strength had slowly turned into something more, something you hadn’t quite been ready to confront. 
The way he could be both infuriatingly arrogant and deeply compassionate, the way he had made you laugh at the party, the way his presence had a grounding effect on you—it had all begun to carve out a space in your heart that you hadn’t anticipated.
"It’s not easy to sort through," you admitted, your voice low, almost reluctant. "There’s a lot to unpack."
Steve nodded, his gaze steady. "You don’t have to unpack it all at once," he said quietly. "Take it as it comes."
His words were kind, but there was an undercurrent of something more—a tension that hummed just beneath the surface. 
You met his eyes, and for a moment, the usual defenses you kept so firmly in place wavered. Steve’s patience, his willingness to let you take things at your own pace—it was a kind of understanding that you weren’t used to, and it made the knot in your chest loosen, just a little.
But as the silence stretched on, you couldn’t ignore the way Steve’s gaze lingered on you, the way his jaw tightened slightly, as if he too was conflicted by something. There was something he wasn’t saying, something that made the air between you feel charged, like the calm before a storm.
You felt a pang of guilt as you remembered the way Stephen had looked at you that morning, the way his voice had faltered when he tried to talk about what had happened. 
And now, here you were with Steve, who was looking at you with that same unspoken emotion in his eyes—only this time, it felt different. More complicated.
"Steve…" you began, unsure of what you wanted to say, but needing to break the silence that was becoming increasingly heavy. "I appreciate you bringing me here, but…"
"But you’re thinking about Stephen," Steve finished for you, his voice quieter now, his eyes darkening with something you couldn’t quite place—was it hurt? Jealousy?
You blinked, taken aback by his directness. "It’s not like that," you said quickly, but even as you spoke the words, you weren’t entirely sure they were true.
Steve turned away slightly, his gaze drifting out over the lake, but his expression was tense. "Maybe not. But something happened last night, didn’t it? Between you and him.”
You didn’t answer right away, the truth of his words settling heavily between you. "I don’t know what happened," you finally admitted. "It’s all a blur."
“But it’s on your mind,” Steve pressed gently, though there was a tension in his voice that hadn’t been there before. 
You tilted your head, sensing the shift but not fully understanding its source. "You’re acting a little… weird, Steve.”
Steve’s eyes flicked away from yours, out over the lake, as if gathering his thoughts. "Weird? No, not weird," he said, "Just… trying to figure something out.”
"Figure out what?" you pressed, genuinely confused. You knew Steve well enough to recognize when something was bothering him, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was this time. "Is it about the mission? Or something with the team?”
Steve exhaled slowly, his shoulders tensing as he processed your words. He wasn’t angry—not exactly—but there was a quiet intensity in the way he looked at you now, a mix of emotions that made your heart race. 
"It’s not the mission," he said finally, his voice low but steady. "It’s about you.”
"Me?" you repeated, caught off guard. "What about me?”
"You and Stephen," Steve clarified. There was no accusation in his tone, but it was clear that something about the situation was weighing heavily on him. "I saw the way he looked at you this morning. And I saw the way you looked at him.”
"Steve, I—”
"You’re on his mind, Y/N," Steve interrupted, his voice softening, but the tension in his posture remained. "And he’s on yours. I can see it.”
There was no use denying it, not when Steve was looking at you with that penetrating gaze, as if he could see right through you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “He is.”
"I can’t compete with that," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
You frowned, still not quite understanding where this was coming from. “Why would you need to compete, Steve, what are you talking about?”
Steve’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. When he finally did, his voice was rougher, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. "I care about you, Y/N. More than I probably should. But seeing you with Stephen… it made me realize that maybe I’m too late. Maybe I should've just been honest from the start.”
The air seemed to leave your lungs as his words sunk in. “Steve..”
“I didn’t want to say anything," Steve continued, his eyes still focused on the water, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I didn’t want to make things complicated between us. But now… I can’t pretend I don’t feel this way. I can’t pretend that knowing that something happened between you with him doesn’t… doesn’t hurt.”
You stood there, stunned into silence. Steve’s confession was the last thing you had expected, and the weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders. You had always known Steve cared about you, but this… this was something entirely different. And it brought all those buried feelings rushing back, feelings you had tried so hard to forget because you thought his heart was already spoken for.
But then there was Stephen, who had slowly, subtly made his way into your heart. The warmth of his smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he could make you laugh even in the direst situations—it all made it impossible to ignore the connection that had been growing between you two. 
And now, you found yourself standing at a crossroads, torn between the man you adore and the man who had become an unexpected part of your life.
"Steve, I didn’t know," you whispered, your voice shaky with the shock of his sudden confession. "I never thought…"
"I know," Steve said quickly, finally turning to look at you. "I know you didn’t. And I don’t blame you for that. But now that it’s out there… I just need you to know. I need you to know how I feel about you.”
The raw honesty in his voice made your heart ache, and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly at a loss for words. You had always seen Steve as your rock, your steady, unflappable friend, but now, standing in front of you, he seemed almost fragile, vulnerable in a way you had never seen before.
"I don’t want to lose you," Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself leaning into his palm, the closeness between you suddenly overwhelming. His thumb brushed softly against your skin, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. 
"But I don’t want to stand in your way, either. If you have feelings for Stephen… if you want to be with him… I’ll step back. I’ll let you go.”
His words broke something inside you, and you felt tears sting your eyes, though you fought to hold them back. The way Steve was looking at you—so full of raw emotion, so open and unguarded—made your heart twist painfully in your chest. 
"I don’t know what to say— I don’t want to lose you either.” you said, your voice trembling.
Steve’s face was so close to yours now that his forehead touched yours and you could feel his breath on your skin, the warmth of it sending a surge of conflicting emotions through you. 
For a moment, you thought he might kiss you—there was a part of you that wanted him to—but he didn’t. Instead, he just held you there, his hand still cradling your cheek, his eyes filled with an emotion that you thought would look at you that way.
"You won’t lose me," Steve promised, his voice low and full of conviction. But there was a vulnerability in his words, a silent plea for you to understand just how much you meant to him. The weight of it settled heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.
Your mind raced, caught between the intensity of the moment and the memories of everything that had led up to this. You remembered the times you’d watched Steve from afar, admiring his strength and kindness, wishing for something more but always telling yourself it could never be. And then there were the recent moments with Stephen—the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you during the party, the connection that had grown between you when you hadn’t even been looking for it.
"I… I don’t know what to do, Steve," you admitted, chuckling as a way to cope. "I care about you, I really do.”
Steve’s eyes flickered with something—understanding, pain, maybe both. "It’s okay," he said softly, though you could hear the strain in his voice. "I just needed you to know. Whatever happens, I’m here for you. I always will be.”
The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten with emotion. How had things become so complicated? You had tried so hard to move on from your feelings for Steve, to protect yourself from the heartache of unrequited love. And then Stephen had come into the picture, turning your world upside down in ways you hadn’t expected. Now, the idea of hurting either of them made you feel sick to your stomach, but you knew that avoiding the truth wasn’t an option either.
You reached up and placed your hand over Steve’s, still cupping your cheek, and the warmth of his skin against yours was both comforting and confusing. 
"Steve, I… I need time to figure this out," you said, your voice shaking with the weight of your own indecision. "I’m so torn right now.”
Steve nodded slowly, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek one last time before he let his hand drop. 
“Take all the time you need,” he said, though there was a trace of sadness in his eyes, “Whatever outcome you choose, I won't change, I'll still care for you just like how I do now.”
× × × ×
Stephen paced back and forth in the Sanctum’s main hall, his thoughts tangled and uneasy. The morning’s events had left him shaken, not just because of the unexpected situation he had woken up to, but because of the emotions that had surfaced in its wake. He had tried to push them aside, focusing on the day’s tasks, but every time his mind wandered, it inevitably drifted back to you—your shocked expression, your voice as you insisted that it would be better to forget what had happened, and the lingering warmth of your presence beside him.
He needed to understand. Not just what happened, but to confirm he doesn't want to let this go easy. After last night. . . he thinks he’s now in love with you.
Stephen leaned back in his chair, his thoughts racing. There was a spell he could use—Memoratus Arcanum, a memory recall spell. It wasn’t a spell he used lightly, but this wasn’t a decision he was taking lightly either. 
The spell would allow him to relive the events of the previous night with perfect clarity, to see everything as it had happened, unclouded by the fog of alcohol. Most importantly, it would help him understand the feelings that had been awakened in him.
With a steadying breath, Stephen stood up and moved to a small table in the corner of the room. The study was filled with the familiar scent of old books and the faint, lingering aroma of incense—comforting smells that helped him focus. He gathered the items he needed for the spell: a small silver mirror, an incantation sheet and a candle to help center his thoughts.
He set the items on the table and sat down cross-legged in front of them, the silver mirror resting in front of him. Lighting the candle, he watched the flame flicker for a moment before closing his eyes, centering himself as he began to chant the incantation. The words flowed easily from his lips, a familiar rhythm that calmed his racing thoughts.
As he finished the incantation, the mirror’s surface began to shimmer, the room around him fading as the spell took hold. The mirror now showed the swirling mists of memory, and Stephen leaned in closer, his heart beating faster as the mists cleared to reveal the events of the previous night. . .
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