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finelinevogue · 9 months

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i love you more than dino nuggets

summary - the night before the final show

pairing : fiancé!harry x reader

word count : +2.3k

a/n : originally was going to include the show but i have another idea for that so i’m off to write that now !!! the title will make sense as you read😭😭

It was the final night before the last love on tour show and you’d already cried three times.

Once on the plane over to Italy. Once on visiting the stage being set up today at the stadium. And once, now, crying because of how overwhelmed you feel.

You were busy getting ready in your shared bedroom, whilst Harry entertained the rest of your friends and family downstairs.

The house Harry owned in Italy, that was soon to become yours too in a week, was a massive Roman inspired villa. The orange stone that the building was made of created a cool villa to live in and with over 12 bedrooms it was the biggest house Harry owned.

All of Harry’s family and friends were staying over here for the duration of the last love on tour show, and then also for your wedding next week.

Whilst some wondered why Harry would end the love on tour shows in Italy, when nothing would ever beat the homeliness feeling of Wembley, it was all because you were getting married here a week Saturday.

How could you not? The perfect background for a summers wedding, in yours and Harry’s favourite country.

“Babe?” Harry knocked on the door and enters before you answer.

“Yeah?” You sniffled, wiping your fingers under your eyes to clear the mascara marks.

“Wha— What’s with the tears, baby?” He asked with a laugh.

“I don’t even know!” You laughed, starting to cry all over again.

“Is it ‘cause the the cake decorator cancelled on us again? ‘Cause, babe, I promise you that I will bake the bloody thing myself.”

Harry came and sat next to you on the bed, handing you a handkerchief he pulled out of his blazer pocket.

Tonight was a big celebration for him and so you’d decided to all get dressed up and have one final supper all together. Harry was in a gorgeous black slate suit, with a basic white t-shirt underneath. You matched him with a simple black halter-dress.

“Turns out these suit tissues are useful for something.”

“Thank you.” You said, dabbing underneath your eyes.

“You’re going to make me cry before the night is up, I just know it.” He nudged you with his shoulder, causing you to fall into him.

You rested your head on his shoulder and let your hands fall into his lap. His arm came around your body and hugged you close, kissing the side of your head as he inhaled your coconut shampoo.

You sat in silence for a few moments, Harry’s fingers coming to play with yours. Twirling around each other until they find home in an interlocking movement.

“Can’t believe this is all real.” You said first.

“Babe, you’re only saying that because we watched The Truman Show the other day.” Harry chuckled.

“Don’t say things like that.” You playfully hit him, but Harry caught your hand before you can go for a second playful punch. “Y’know that my worst fear is this all not being real.” You mumbled.

Harry nodded his head.

“Then let me show you just how real this is.”

Harry pushed you to lay your back down on the bed, your legs still touching the floor from where you sat on the edge of the bed. Harry moved to hover over you and took your intertwined hands with him, moving them to link above your head.

A loose strand of hair tickled your forehead and Harry blew it away with a soft blow, making you smile.

“You’re so pretty.” Harry stopped to pause and just take you all in.

“I thought you were supposed to be showing me how we are real.” You sarcastically told him. The glint in his eyes told you just how cheeky he thought you were.

Harry didn’t waste another moment before kissing you. Your lips met his instantly and just like you’d been doing for the past five years, you kissed and kissed and kissed. You both knew when to bite or slow down and speed up. You were so in tune with each other.

When you started to pant slightly out of breath, Harry slowed down and moved his lips away from yours just a fraction.

“Breathe, baby.” He whispered against your lips.

“Mhm.” You tried to inhale some air.

“Was that real enough for you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe we should try a—”

Harry’s lips pressed back against yours and he let go of your hands, because he knew you were itching to touch him.

Your hands went straight to his cheeks, pulling him in to guide his lips against yours, whilst his own hands remained gripped to the bed sheets as he held his weight up. You kissed him until both your lips were red and swollen.

A knock on the door is what interrupted you both.

“Fuck.” Harry mumbled, stuffing his head into your neck to hide from everyone else. Now that he’d had a moment with you, he didn’t want anyone else.

“H? Y/N?” The sound of Anne came through the other side of the door. “I know you two love each other, but you have people downstairs waiting for you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle that you’d been caught making out by Harry’s mum. You felt like a teenager all over again.

“It’s not funny.” Harry pinched your sides playfully.

“Did y’hear me?” Anne asked.

“Yes muumm!” Harry replied, pretending like he was annoyed when in reality he could never be anything but kind to his mum.

“Be down in five, otherwise I’m coming in next time.”

Harry grunted and dropped his head back into your neck, softly kissing and biting at the skin he could find exposed down there.

“Harry stop.” You tried to push him off, laughing, but he was too heavy and you were too weak to fight him off. “I’m not having your mum come back.”

“It’s an empty threat, babe.” Harry continued to kiss your neck and it was heading straight for a hickey.

“Umm… Do you remember Christmas of 2020?”

Harry’s head shot up at that, smirking as he looked down at you.

“Be more specific.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed because he knew exactly what you were talking about, but was just too much of a tease and wanted to hear you say it.

“Your mum thought I was in pain, but it turned out I was just receiving head from her son. So thanks for that. It’s a memory that will haunt me forever.”

“What? Me eating you out?” Harry looked even more cheeky. “Well, I guess we’ll have to fix that.”

His hands shifted underneath your body as he moved down until he was knelt on the floor in front of your legs. You kicked him with your foot before he could lift your dress though.

“Harry Styles!” You scoffed. “Your entire family is downstairs. Stop it.”

You were well aware that you sounded like a teacher, or a scolding mother, but sometimes it was the only way to get him to stop his adolescent behaviour.

“You’re no fun.” Harry groaned and laid on the floor like you’d just shot him through the heart with an arrow.

“Don’t marry me then.” You said jokingly.

You shook your head and walked towards the door, heels clicking on the marble floor as you went. You brushed your dress down from creases.

You stopped in front of a full length mirror to check yourself out before you rejoined everyone downstairs. Everything was still set in place, despite the copious amounts of crying.

Harry came up behind you, having felt him before actually seeing him through the mirror.

He wrapped his arms underneath your armpits and squeezed you in a hug from behind. You tilted your head to one side of his body so he could plant a soft kiss on the skin you’d left exposed.

“I love you. And I can’t wait to marry you.” He kissed you again. “For you to be mine. Officially.”

“And you’ll be mine.” You turned your head and looked him in his eyes. They were so full of love, sparkling from the excitement you gave him.

“I’ve always been yours.”

His lips met yours once last time before you really did have to go downstairs.

Harry held your hand as you walked down the stairs together, occasionally checking that you were alright and that your heels weren’t going to make you fall.

Once you were down them, Harry immediately brought you into his side and had his arm around your waist. You copied his motion and followed him into the outdoor seating area.

Lots of long tables had been set up on the large patio for people to sit at, with an extra long table that was arranged with food and drinks for everyone here and an extra hundred people.

There was meats, fish, pasta, pizza and even veggie dinosaur nuggets that Harry had shipped from England just for you. For drinks there was everything from water to very expensive wine. Wine that come from the vineyards Harry has invested in around this area.

Everyone cheered when Harry and you finally turned up, many people already sitting down and tucking into their food and some people nursing glasses of fizz as they chatted.

The glow of the moon and the strings of hundreds of fairy lights made the atmosphere that little bit more special. There was some light piano music playing in the background and everything felt at peace with the world.

“I’m just going to go say to hi to a couple of people. Are you okay?” Harry asked you.

“‘Course. I’m starving and starting to get hangry.”

“Well nobody wants to see a hangry Y/N. Go on!” Harry shooed you along and you stuck up your middle finger at him. He watched you with admiration as you wandered off.

You made it to the buffet selection and happily see your dinosaur nuggets waiting for you. They even have a little sign on them that says ‘property of the lead singers fiance. don’t touch’ in Harry’s handwriting. Every minute he’s got spare he’s reminding people that you are soon to be forever each others.

You sit at a table with some of Harry’s relatives, chatting with them for a bit, before moving down the table to speak to your family.

You finished off your dinosaur nuggets and excuse yourself, wandering back inside the house and towards the freezer.

Opening it, you are amazed to find another three boxes of nuggets and you instantly fall a little bit more in love with Harry because of the simple action.

Your best friend, Ruby, meets you in the kitchen, as you’re turning on the oven to make more.

“Someone has been looking beautiful tonight.” She teased you, handing you over what must be your fourth glass of prosecco of the night.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” You laughed.

“Don’t be daft. No one is glowing more than you are tonight.”

“Not even H?” You challenged.

“I mean, yeah. But he’s only happy ‘cause you are.”

You blushed at her comment and take a sip of your drink. After the nuggets are in the oven, you sit on top of the granite kitchen island. Ruby clambered on after you, falling straight onto her back with how tipsy she is.

You laughed so hard that you ended up falling back too. Luckily the kitchen island is that big that you remain on it.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married next week.” You best friend says.

“Why does everyone keep focusing on that and not the final show tomorrow?” You wondered.

“Maybe because your wedding day is slightly more important than the end of Love On Tour.”

“I don’t think I see it that way.” You hummed at your own realisation. “They’re equal in importance. Tomorrow night is the biggest night of Harry’s career and it means a lot to me, therefore meaning a lot to me.”

“Girl, don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet.”

“No!” You blurted out, more sure of that fact than anything. “Never. I love Harry and I can’t wait for married life together.”

“But…?”

“But I think tomorrow night will be as equally as important to him and so it will be to me too.” You answered truthfully.

“Ugh. When did you get so sappy?” Your best friend teased you.

“Harry brings it out of me.” You gushed over your fiancé.

“You two are so sickeningly in love.”

“Don’t worry. Harry will give me my medicine later.” You attempted a bad joke.

“Okayyy….” Brad said as entered the room with a beer in hand. He’s been following your best friend everywhere she’s gone recently and you’re wondering whether he’s harbouring a little crush.

Both you and Ruby burst out laughing, you clutching onto your stomach from laughing so hard. Everything is so much funnier laying down too.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Harry asked, smiling when he saw you laughing. He walked up Brad and slung his arm around his shoulder as they watched on.

“Mate I don’t even know. I don’t think I want to know.” Brad answered.

“Harry? Do you love Y/N?” Ruby asked.

“Yes.” Harry answered quickly.

“Y/N? Do you love Harry?”

“I doo!!” You shouted, laughing afterwards.

“They love each other! You’re now both wifed up.” Ruby announced.

“What?” You laughed. “Harry can’t be my wife.” You giggled.

“Oh yeah.” Ruby laughed and it set both of you off laughing again.

Harry shook his head at you both and nodded for Brad to handle Ruby whilst he handled you. Brad made sure Ruby didn’t fall over when he stood her up, announcing he was going to take her somewhere to lay down for a bit to calm down.

You felt Harry’s hands on yours as he pulled you to sit up.

Once you sat up you warmly smiled at him, cupping his cheek and leaning your forehead onto his.

“Hey, baby. Y’doing okay?” Harry asked and smiled at you.

“Mhm.”

“Your dino nuggets are ready if you want them.”

“Yes please.”

“Okay. Stay here for me.”

Harry arranged them on a plate and added some sweet chilli sauce on the side for you. He then came back over to you and stood between your legs.

He dipped a nugget in some sauce and held it up to your mouth. He blew on it to cool it down, only because he’d seen chefs on the TV do it, and waited for you to take a bite.

You hummed in delight as you bit into it. “Mm mm.”

“Nice?” Harry asked, wiping your mouth of crumbs with a nearby napkin.

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I’m excited for a life full of you and dino nuggets, Harry.”

“Do you love me more than dino nuggets?” He offered you another bite.

“Love you more than anyone or anything.” You finished chewing before speaking. “But veggie dino nuggets are the second love of my life.”

“As long as I’m the first.” He kissed your forehead.

Both of you were in the kitchen for another twenty minutes, talking about anything and nothing whilst Harry fed you. A few people had walked in, but had left you just as quickly to enjoy this quiet time together.

A couple of people had snapped photos of you too, which you would be thankful for later.

At the end of the night, after there was a mass of friends and family cleaning up and washing dishes, everyone retreated to bed.

Harry had been saying his rounds of good night before he had joined you in bed.

It was past midnight and you wanted time to slow down. It was unfair that the last show of love on tour has crept up so soon. How dare it.

You understood Harry needed some time to himself now though and start building more of a life outside of touring for himself. For starters, marrying you.

Harry sighed as he got into bed, peeling back the covers and immediately wiggling is way across the bed, over to your side, and spooning you from behind.

He kissed the back of your neck a couple of times, just because he could, as you wiggled in his hold to get comfortable again.

“Tonight was fun.” You said softly, speaking into the darkness and knowing it was only Harry who could hear you.

“It was. Tomorrow night will be even more fun.”

“It’ll be bittersweet.”

“Maybe.” His hands held yours. “But I’m getting tired, baby, and I just want a bit of rest now.”

“I know, bub. I’ll just miss it, is all.”

“You’ll always still have me, though. I’m not going anywhere.”

You turned around in his hold, facing him and resting your faces so close that your noses were touching.

“I’m here to stay too. Forever yours when that ring gets put on me next week, baby.” You tell him, smiling a little too much at that comment.

“I… I think I’m going to play something for you tomorrow. Something i’ve never done before.” He sounded nervous telling you.

“Just for me?”

“Everything’s always for you. This piece will especially be.”

“Can’t wait.” You leaned in and pecked his lips so he could taste your excitement. “You’re going to be amazing.”

“I’ll be sad it’s over, but more than ready to step off the stage and down the aisle instead. That’ll be the best day of my life.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles blurbs #harry styles love on tour #love on tour italy #harry styles italy fic

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imaginesmai · 7 months

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Right around the corner (3) - Azriel

LISTEN I CAN EXPLAIN if you've been here for a while now, you can expect this part. If not, may I present myself - hi, I'm Mai and I'm an angst queen bitch. Fourth part already on the way, don't worry!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: the turth comes out, but in a way Azriel didn't expect.

Warnings: prepare tissues.

Azriel had taken his time to process the words, and in the meanwhile, he had received so many notes from his family that he had his hands full of small paper balls.

There were notes from Feyre updating him of the screaming match between Cassian and Rhysand, long texts from Mor promising him the house was a safe place for you and that he better hurry to bring you out. Even Amren had written a brief ‘I knew it, boy’ that had him more worried than before.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want you to meet them. He loved his family like nothing else, and knew they would only be supportive and kind to his new status. Him being mated or not didn’t change the way they saw him, but part of him – the part that had felt rejection from his mother and his blood-family, was scared.

Azriel ended up sitting in the kitchen counter in front of you with a frown and a growing headache. Even though it was late and you had had a long day, you instantly noticed his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to go quiet in your presence. You had learned by then that it didn’t mean you did something wrong. Most of the times, it was his insecurities popping up randomly in his mind, the troubles of the day dragging him away from you.

And through the years, you had learned that there was nothing else to do but to stay close to him and remind him that he was there. Right with you, and that you loved him.

Still, as you stared at him that night, you noticed it wasn’t the usual frown. He snuck glances at you and moved from the couch, where he was banned, to the kitchen. You left the bowl aside and stood in front of him, one arm extended so he could hold your hand.

“How do you know Feyre?” he asked, not taking your hand.

“Feyre as… the high lady?”

“Yeah. You greeted her the other day. You two know each other?”

“Guess so. She has her art study right in front of my bakery, haven’t you noticed?” you answered, not understanding the nature of the question. “When she moved in, I baked her a welcome to the neighborhood pie and she has actually painted two of the pictures I hang on the wall”

“Feyre painted pictures for you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you two friends?”

“Well, not friends per say, but we know each other. That’s what usually happens when you work in front of someone else’s work” you shrugged, you open hand still empty. “Why?”

“I didn’t know you knew her”

“Should you know I know her? For any specific reason?”

“It would have been nice to know you know my high lady. My brother’s mate”

“Now you know. What’s with all this ‘you know I know’? Why does it matter?”

You didn’t understand why but there was an annoyed edge on his voice that you didn’t like. As a morning person, you usually went to bed early, and any minute past midnight was a minute you were supposed to be asleep. No matter how nice it was to spend time with Azriel and how good he had made you feel an hour ago, now you were annoyed.

The male stared at you, still not answering your silent call for his hand. One of his many shadows crossed the table and jumped at the chance of tangling between your fingers. That would have been enough to make you laugh any other day.

That night, you just stared at each other.

“Az, why are you so – “

“Because you should have told me, Y/N” he cut you off. “You know how important my family is to me, and I think it’s fair to ask that if you know any of them you should tell me. So I’m prepared for this”

“What’s this exactly? Late night discoveries about my neighbors?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, frustration clear in his features. It was a stupid argument over a stupid situation, and Azriel being on his underwear and you only on his t-shirt without panties didn’t make it any less stupid. You rarely argued, and when you did, it was you who had the pointless argument and Azriel the calm one.

His shadows moved behind the couch and dumped in front of you a bunch of papers. They were all wrinkled and Azriel didn’t have time to hide them or think about how to approach the situation before a new one popped out of thin air. It landed next to your open hand, his shadow catching it and unfolding the content.

Does she eat cereal straight from the box? Is it why you’re hiding her?

You didn’t need to think hard to know it was talking about you, and who the note belonged to. In the past, Rhysand had sent notes to Azriel while you were having a shower together, in bed together, and one had even appeared inside your oven while he was helping you around.

“Feyre told them about you” Azriel explained, having read the note upside down. “And because I didn’t know you knew her, now they are deeply offended and want to meet you”

It took you a while to make sense to his words, because you couldn’t find the problem past you not telling him about Feyre. Quickly, you read some of the notes where Cassian threatened Azriel and Rhysand demanded his presence. They were friendly notes, no harm in them. Still, you couldn’t understand the utter sadness until you realized the meaning behind his annoyance.

Finally, you pulled your hand back to your side, not with little resistance from the shadow. You must have opened the bond channel because Azriel frowned, hit with sadness instead of the usual love.

The first note, where Rhysand explained that Feyre had told him, was what brought it all together.

“You haven’t told them you have a mate”

It occurred to you that you had believed it done with no proofs. You didn’t mind Azriel being at your house, living in your apartment. You didn’t mind having separate Starfall and lives. You didn’t mind either when he left for a family dinner and kissed you goodbye, because you understood his need of privacy, of having something that was just his.

What you didn’t understand until that moment that he hadn’t even told them you existed. And through all the reasons that ran to your mind at his silence, you couldn’t pick just one.

“It’s not that they don’t know me. They don’t know you’re mated”

“You agreed when I said I need to take things slowly. That I needed time” he blurted out suddenly, your sadness making space for his annoyance. “The bond was a surprise for me. I didn’t want to rush things”

“Azriel it’s been six years. Six! It’s not a casual fling or a one-night stand” you tried to voice your hurt, your sadness. “It’s not the same not meeting them that being a secret”

“It’s not like I keep you a secret. They haven’t asked and I haven’t – “

“Because you haven’t told them! What – How do you explain the days you spend here? And the… I – Azriel, we’ve been dating for six years and they haven’t asked?”

“They’re used to me sneaking around”

“For months?” you chuckled. “We were locked here for months after we mated. How did you explain that?”

His words were background noise because, above his absences, there was something you realized they should have noticed. Something anyone noticed from mated pairs as soon as they left the house. White noise filled your ears as he tried to excuse himself by talking about missions.

About your safety, about the worry of something happening to you if they discovered you were his mate.

Azriel blurred in front of you as realization hit you and tears filled your eyes. You could barely hold it together as you spoke.

“You’ve been hiding the mating bond” your breath hitched, because if there was something more important than your bakery, it was your bond. “They should have smelt it. But you’ve been hiding it”

“I didn’t hide it, please, don’t say it like that” his voice broke at the end, willing you to listen to him.

“Right. Because you can’t hide the bond from them unless you don’t accept it” you saw the moment your words hit him, the guilt in the way his shadows almost clouded your vision and his wings flared. “You didn’t accept the bond”

Azriel didn’t answer and, worse than any other betrayal or pain, it broke your heart. You remembered offering him the lemon pie, him tearing up and eating. Accepting the bond was an individual decision, one he should have made years ago – just like you did.

You still shared it; you still were mates. The only difference was that, while you proudly loved him and adored each part of his body and soul, he had rejected your smell on him, your imprint on his own.

An invisible hand cut off your air supply and your breath hitched. You covered your mouth with your hand and muffled the sob, but he felt the exact moment your heart broke. Even if he didn’t show it to the world, he could still feel you. Your feelings, your essence. His own eyes teared up and now he extended his hand forward.

A silent invitation, the same you had given him so many times when he was in need of comfort, of love.

But that time, you didn’t reach forward nor acknowledge the shadows that tried to pull you closer to him.

“Get out”

“Darling”

“Get out” you pointed a shaky finger towards the door.

“Y/N, please. It’s not what you’re thinking” he tried to explain, his voice broken by his sorrow. “I accepted the bond. I just – “

“Get the fuck out now!”

The bowl that you had been filling with lettuce, salmon and other vegetables flew from the desk to where he was standing. His shadows, by their own consciousness or his master’s, didn’t stop it as it crashed against his chest. It spilled all over his naked chest, and before he could clean it, there was another tray with grilled pork on your hand.

Azriel’s last look to you was of pure despair and sorrow. He winnowed away before the second tray could hit him, leaving you with his shadows already cleaning up the mess.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell down to your knees and sobbed.

He didn’t have a plan, and when he winnowed away, the last thing on his mind was the sound of your heart breaking. There was no way he would go to his house and face his family, not when he wasn’t even sure what had happened in your apartment. Couldn’t start to comprehend the pain he had caused you and how much he hated himself for it.

So, without planning to, he ended up in the cabin.

The old wooden walls and ceiling greeted him, different from the ones he remembered from his past. Feyre had added drawings everywhere, there were clothes scattered around, and food that was still edible.

No matter how familiar the sight was, it offered him no comfort.

Azriel dragged his wings through the floor and sat on the couch. Propping his elbows on his knees, he hid his face as the first tear rolled down. Followed by many more.

He replayed your hurt voice once more, your face. It hadn’t been his intention to reject the bond, not really. But he hadn’t run away from it.

It took him two weeks of uncertainty to know that he hadn’t taken it the way you had. While you radiated with his scent, people didn’t ask him. He walked past Cassian during training and his friend just teased him for being disappeared for a month. Rhysand commented about having to report to him every now and then, and Amren didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

That was how he discovered that he had to accept his part of the mating process. He had to be proud, to want it, in order to complete it.

But you had been so happy, so full of joy and love, that Azriel had feared that telling you about it would make you sad. Eventually, he had learned how he should have done it – but at that moment, he didn’t know. Besides, he could still sneak whenever he wanted to without explanations. So he hadn’t said anything.

The first year rolled by, and he spent a good amount of days panicking about how to deal with the situation. The second year passed and you didn’t ask about it, neither did his family. By the fourth year, he had almost forgotten about it.

Azriel’s loud sob broke the silence of the cabin. His chest contracted and his body shock. It was different from any type of suffering, of pain, he had ever felt. He could still feel the echo of your own through the bond, could hear your cries in the distance.

In the lonely cabin, under the moon light, the shadowsinger sobbed and cried until his voice was raw. He was angry at himself, at his past and his traumas, even angry at you. Because now that he knew what it felt to be complete, to be happy and safe in someone’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having it.

His body gravitated to the side and he curled himself in a ball, still in his underwear. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would try to hide himself in the dark cell, cowering in his fear and desperation.

As if he was a kid all over again, Azriel let his wings cover his body and cried. Cried until he couldn’t remember his name, until he was begging the Cauldron to turn back time and let him accept the bond. Carry you on his arm around Velaris and don’t let the fear take control of his life.

He felt like punching a hole through the wall. Like flying thousand feet up and letting go in free fall. Maybe get into a bar fight and let everything out. But his body was anchored to that couch, to that pain. Azriel pressed his closed fists into his chest, trying to relief some of the pressure.

While he wondered if that was what having his heart ripped from his chest fell, he forgot to keep his mental shields up.

Letting Rhysand in.

The house of wind had been chaos for a few hours.

Rhysand had tried to manage the situation by himself, wide awake in bed while processing Feyre’s words. He willed himself to sleep, to rest and leave the pondering for the morning. But when he tried to close his eyes, he could see Azriel covered in blood and killing an entire camp because an illegal wing clipping. He could notice the faint, new smell in the house that he hadn’t noticed.

If he had his eyes open, he couldn’t help but look at Nyx’s new toy.

So, Rhysand had woken up Cassian, after Azriel hadn’t answered his notes. And Cassian had been mad. Angry, furious, raging. The general had talked nonsense about berries for a while and then he begged Rhysand to wake up Feyre and find Azriel to interrogate them.

And, who was the high lord to deny a late-night gossiping session?

Feyre had been mad but she had told them that Azriel had a mate that worked in front of her art studio, in a bakery. That you were nice and cheerful, that you had been mated for six years.

That was when Cassian lost it and woke up the whole house.

Now, all the members of the inner circle had gathered in the council room with their pajamas on.

“Maybe it’s not true. Feyre, you might have had imagined it”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Feyre raised her eyebrows at Cassian.

“I’m just saying he would have told me! We’re brothers. And we don’t keep secrets in this house. Never.”

“You don’t keep secrets” Amren cut him off, not looking at him. “Your bean brain is too simple to keep any type of secrets from us, but that doesn’t mean all of us are exhibitionist”

“I’m not – “

“You are an exhibitionist. You announce everything, Cas. Even a fart” Mor corrected him before he could defend himself.

“Sorry for being kind enough to not keep secrets from my family” he frowned, turning to look at Rhys. “You keep secrets from me?”

“I don’t keep secrets from you” Rhys assured him, half a smile.

“He threw the sword you gifted Nyx for his birth and told you Bryaxis took it so you wouldn’t look for it”

Feyre looked at her mate with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say anything else. With a wide-awake Nyx in her arms, she looked at threatening as the Hybern army. She had yet to talk to him privately, but Rhysand knew he was up for a long talk. So he bit his lip and turned to Cassian. Who, of course, looked completely broken and defeated.

The rest of the group was silent, barely keeping their smiles to themselves. Even Nesta, who had a hand on his shoulder, was looking at Feyre with approval. Cassian stared at Rhysand for a long second before he talked.

“It was a nice sword”

“For a teenager, maybe. For a baby, not” Feyre answered again. “Weren’t you just talking about Azriel’s betrayal and secrets?”

“I, for one, knew he was hiding something” Amren commented for the third time. “Just saying I noticed. And you didn’t”

“Not all of us are creeps that stare and don’t talk. We have social lives to take care of” Mor said.

“Some of you do talk. Maybe too much”

Rhysand tuned out Amren and Mor argument when he felt a crack through Azriel’s mental barriers. He had been tugging at them softly to know where his brother was. Feyre had talked him out of the idea of barging in uninvited and demanding answers – at least, he had talked Amren and Mor out of it. Rhysand and Cassian were still unconvinced.

That was why he had kept a talon poking at his mental barriers since the argument started, thinking it wouldn’t be successful.

But then, Azriel opened it unconsciously and Rhysand brought a hand up to his chest.

Everyone fell quiet as the high lord scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, not ready for the wave of emotions and pain Azriel was feeling at the moment.

Feyre’s hand was instantly on him, Nyx looking up to his father with a pout that would surely turn into a crying session soon. Before the baby could start crying or any of his friends could ask him about it, Rhysand accepted Feyre’s help and got up from his chair.

“He’s at the cabin” he announced, already summoning his darkness to swallow Cassian and him there. “We’ll keep you updated”

Nyx’s loud cry was the last thing they heard as they winnowed away. And the first one they heard from the cabin, was Azriel’s broken one.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y

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popponn · 8 months

Text

i didn't expect to see a future with you.

summary: it began as another fun and beneficial thing to have. until suddenly, it was about wanting ‘you and him for a very long time’. (in other words, he really didn’t mean to fall for you. really.)

characters: kaiser, reo, nagi.

notes: i tried to write about l word without mentioning it once. i hope i manage to get them right, this is my first time writing reo and kaiser especially. warning: relationships that started as casual and unserious, gacha at nagi's part. i really like fall later and harder troupe recently...

kaiser

months ago, if kaiser knew you got a fever, he would type a message of ‘get well soon’ without much meaning behind it along with a few extra sentences just to charm it all up. he would just cancel the date the two of you were supposed to be having and do anything else. practice, review his performance, or hell maybe have a different date and have fun with someone else. it was written all over the place, how this thing between you and him were anything but serious. he would never ask for your care, therefore he wouldn’t give you anything other than ‘the fun’ either.

and yet, here he sat on your bedside, porridge in hand like a nagging nanny because a moronic idiot—you—thought it was smart to walk through a storm instead of calling him or someone to pick you up. the thought of relationships and definitions and such as became the furthest thing in his mind the moment you called him with your slurred voice. you, being a helpless mush that could only wrap yourself with a blanket, couldn’t exactly protest to both his presence and harsh words. kaiser certainly didn’t shy away from calling you names—incompetent fool, being one of the tamer ones—the moment he arrived at your bedroom with medicines.

after cursing you and your useless outdated static of a brain, kaiser ushered you into the bed as he searched through your cabinets and ordered foods for your empty stomach. under the haze of your fever, you apologized to him and thank him. kaiser just gave you another comment about being stupid and baited a laugh from you. it was raspy and uglier than usual, but kaiser thought it would suffice. then, like a noisy sickly chatterbox, you asked why he choose you instead of his ‘anything else’.

“…it’s because I’m not an idiot,” Michael Kaiser replied to you after a long moment of silence. His back was turned towards you, the tone in his voice unshaken and flat, yet undeniably honest. “I know what I want.”

Your head throbbed painfully not truly understanding what he meant. But for him, you pushed out a chuckle, “’s that so, Michael…?”

“Do you even know what you are saying?” he shot back, his blurry figure walking closer towards you. As the view of his profile became clearer, you realized how you couldn’t quiet put a name on his expression. “Just rest up, you big baby.”

reo

as cruel as it was to say this, reo didn’t exactly begin with seeing you as a ‘person’. to him, you were more of the embodiment of ‘momentary excitements, rest, and escapism’. somewhere for him to have fun without thinking much, a someone who he could interact without any law of cause and effect following him. reo was certain you too saw him the same way. the two of you were a ‘why not?’ that could and would end like a passing breeze. it was nice, but it wouldn’t last long.

then, slowly came the late night chats, the voice notes filled with mundane things and lame jokes. afterwards, long talks about both anything and nothing followed. you came to his match, you were introduced to his teammates, you were a presence that was almost became a constant in every hour reo spent awake. and reo knew more than anyone else that he didn’t hate it when he watched you cry uglily at a movie he didn’t bother to pay attention to. in a way, he knew he was gone.

snotty and messy, your hand blindly reached around his sofa for a box of tissues. reo couldn’t take his eyes away from you as he laughed lightly and pushed the tissues towards you. hearing his chortles, you threw your cold feet towards his lap. you were looking at him with a pissed off questioning look whilst reo could only think how he could do this everyday.

“Is it even that sad?” Mikage Reo asked, teasing even when he slowly shifted your legs to comfortably rest on his lap. When the ‘pissed off’ look on your face intensified, Reo wondered if you would let him took a photo. For what, he didn’t exactly know either, but he certainly would be happy if you would let him.

“It’s about him finally realizing what he should have done, Reo!” you said, as if it answered everything. Reo could only chuckle—because perhaps it did. “Stop laughing! I didn’t laugh the last time you cried at that lame movie!”

He pushed himself closer towards you, a smile that felt like it wouldn’t die down plastered itself on his face. As the space between the two of you disappeared and you slotted yourself on his side like a piece long gone, he leaned his head against yours and didn’t stop himself from wrapping a hand on your shoulder. Still with a feeling he would soon said out loud to you, Reo continued to laugh merrily, “Come on, don’t say that. Here, here, let me wipe off those tears.”

nagi

the two of you started as a pair of gaming buddies simply because he found you funny and became what was pretty much ‘maybe-dating by convenience but still play together every now and then’ because one of his nosy sponsors who would love nagi to date his daughter. you were not troublesome, you did not ask much from nagi, you did not disturb his soccer career, and you seemed to like choki a lot. nagi didn’t exactly understand why you ‘date’ him, but if the comments from his friends were anything to go by, he supposed whatever reason you had were not terrible for him in any way.

the two of you sometimes hang around his room. usually it because you wanted to pull a gacha character and demanded nagi’s hands for luck. nagi didn’t exactly get it, but it wasn’t rare for you to made an interesting expression depending on what you got, so he supposed it was entertaining in a way. and each time the two of you did this, he also found it was fun to sit beside you and had you grab his hand for ‘luck’.

then the sunset came through from the window that day and you grabbed his hand yet again. suddenly, nagi found it unsurprising for him to remember every contour and corner of your hand. his eyes were trained on your face, watching you focusing on your phone screen and it felt like seeing you for the first time. when he intertwined your fingers with his as you cheered, it felt natural.

“Did you get her?” Nagi Seishirou leaned his weight towards you, letting the bed tilted along with him. He let you held his hand tighter as you too pressed your side to him. A grin that was bright and messy plastered itself on your face and Seishirou thought it suited the color of sunset. “You get her, huh? Yay.”

You were still buzzing with joy and excitement, your other hand reaching over him to hug his head to your chest. “Thank you! Thank you! Sei, I owe you!”

“Owe me, huh…?” Seishirou tried his best to think of a respond, but honestly all he could think of was how pleasant it was to be hugged by you, even if you probably weren’t thinking much of the action. Perhaps he really was as lucky as you had stated through big words and stressed intonations. As he returned your hug, Seishirou said, “Then, can I ask something for my payment?”

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yeahxsurexokay13 · 10 days

Text

forget about us - mason mount

summary: yn and mason have been broken up for 5 months and both have apparently moved on from each other but then yn's unexpected new single happens

warnings: the song mentioned is 'forget about us' by perrie because i have been obsessed with it ever since it came out !!!! but for the sake of the smau i have decided to completely ignore the parts where she talks about not wanting to go back to where they were lol

y/n.y/l

Liked by taylorswift and 1.075.733 others

y/n.y/l well, here's the truth of it

view all 3.130 comments

fan1 spill the tea bestie we're all ears ☕☕☕👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

fan2 we're getting nEW MUSIC EVERYBODY

jackgrealish Reckon this one will make the pre match playlist?

y/n.y/l we'll have to see if it passes the vibes check 🥸

fan6 so it's a break up song 🥲 confirmed.

fan3 are these lyrics? 👀

user1 looks like we're about to get the inside scoop on the breakup

fan4 don't bother zooming in on slide 3 it doesn't work

jobebellingham 👩🏽‍🍳

y/n.y/l 🤫

fan7 WHAT DOES HE KNOW

fan8 not jude's brother commenting.........

selenagomez Love seeing you in your element 🫶 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 Here come the tissues 🤧🤧

y/n.y/l

Liked by perrieedwards and 1.790.201 others

y/n.y/l big thanks to @/edsheeran for helping me put my heart into words and to the amazing @/allieavital for directing this mv with such brilliance and kindness.

'forget about us' song and mv are yours at midnight!!! 🌃

view all 3.802 comments

fan1 aaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH ASFJK

niallhoran YES! Been hyped for this release. Let's goooo!

y/n.y/l thank you! this means so much coming from you!!! x

fan2 i've been trying to make out what the song might be about by this 5 second video and it's safe to say i have nothing

fan3 like wth is she supposed to be seeing on those tvs?

fan4 CAN MIDNIGHT HURRY UP PLZ AND THANK YOU

edsheeran It was an honour to work on this with you. Can't wait for everyone to hear it 🙌 liked by y/n.y/l

fan5 can't wait to watch and listen 💖

fan6 already preparing myself emotionally for this song bc if it's about Mason idk if i'll survive 😭😭😭

fan7 yn's music always hits differently when it's inspired by real life experiences 😮‍💨

y/n.y/l

Liked by masonmount and 1.507.893 others

y/n.y/l fuk sad feelings

tagged: madelyncline

view all 3.410 commets

fan1 a negroni… sbagliato… with prosecco in it

y/n.y/l oh stunning

fan2 MASON IS BACK IN THE LIKES EVERYBODY MOVE

fan4 what if he heard the song?

fan2 he DEFINITELY heard the song lol

madelyncline Did you know i am obsessed with you?

y/n.y/l giggling and kicking my feet i love u bb

fan3 I spy with my little eye... Mason in Y/n's likes 🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢🚢

fan5 this has me imagining all sorts of scenarios please let this mean something

fan6 my babies @.y/n.y/l @/madelyncline 😍❤️

fan7 UR SO PRETTY WTH

y/n.y/l

📍 portsmouth

Liked by sophiaaemelia and 2.390.276 others

y/n.y/l writing about how much i want one direction to get back together next

view all 4.376 comments

fan1 AS SOON AS I SAW THE LOCATION I KNEW OMFG

fan2 my heart is so happy 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user1 You and Mason are too cute! But seriously, we need that One Direction reunion song.

declanrice ❤️

fan6 "but when I hear your name, it's still so raw. do you ever feel the same way too?" looks like he did!!!

fan3 okay this wins for the most creative way of saying 'we're back together' lol so happy for you two 💕💕

user2 i'd stream that song on repeat until it happens

fan4 mum and dad arE BACK TOGETHER YAY

fan5 if your song works, I'll be forever indebted to you!!!

user3 been rooting for you two since day one!! so happy to see you back together 🥰

masonmount Your biggest fan forever ❤️

y/n.y/l my number 7 ♥️

#singer!reader #social media au #football smau #mason mount smau #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine

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inoreuct · 3 months

Text

been thinking about asura zoro lately.

possibly a prince sanji au where sora’s kicked her shitstain of an ex-husband out of the kingdom and his siblings are going through behavioural therapy,,,

at any rate, sanji’s wandering across the grounds one afternoon and he sees someone sitting beneath his favourite apple tree in the middle of the field. he thinks it’s yonji at first, but no— the hair’s too short and the wrong shade of green. less neon than his brother’s electric lime and more like… moss.

the man has one leg propped up with his arm resting on his knee, an apple clutched loosely in his hand. he turns as the grass rustles with sanji’s steps and sanji notes the vertical scar over his left eye that cuts through his brow and down his cheek. “you’re in my spot.”

“hm,” the man says, completely unbothered. he lifts the apple to take a bite and his open robe shifts with the wind, the hilts of the three swords tucked into his sash knocking gently against each other.

sanji narrows his eyes. “move.”

a slow, lazy grin. “no.”

“you—!” the prince is just about ready to boot this guy in the ass. “you do realise who i am, don’t you?”

“no,” the man repeats, shrugging a shoulder and peering down at his apple before taking another bite.

that gives sanji pause. everybody knows who he is. it’s inescapable— queen sora’s kindest son, with the golden hair and a heart to match. ocean eyes and the hands of a chef and legs steadier than any sailor’s. he has a duty to fulfil and an image to uphold, and it’s—

well. it’s just that sometimes, he thinks that he wasn’t made for this life at all— that he was meant to be out there, on the ocean, skipping over the waves with the wind in his hair and the sun on his brow, feeling the grit of sand between his teeth. he has satisfied himself with the comforts of royal life, with the orchards and the kitchens, but something pulls at him still. it tugs his heart towards the coast and whispers for him to shed the courtly graces he wears as tangibly as the cloak over his shoulders.

sanji is quiet as he reaches up, swallowing over the soft click of the clasp before red velvet falls into his hand. he drops it to the grass and lets it pool, puts one palm on the ground before settling against worn, rough bark and letting the pattern press into the skin of his spine.

“it’s peaceful here.” the man’s voice is low, slipping beneath the soft sigh of wind. “quiet.”

“it hadn’t always been,” sanji says, before he can stop himself. he has no reason to be doing this— to be saying anything at all, much less sitting down. he should be yelling for the guards and then taking this guy out himself. he’s a stranger who’d somehow made it onto royal grounds, through the extensive defences they had; one with three swords and scars, sanji reminds himself as he eyes the gnarly line of pearly tissue running diagonally down the man’s chest. he’s, by all definitions, a threat.

and yet, sanji hasn’t felt anything at all. no hostility, no fear— just… stillness, if he had to put a word to it. a sort of calm.

“the king… he was cruel,” he continues softly. “he treated my siblings and i like lab rats to be used. my mother was nothing more than a pretty thing to fill a space beside him. this palace, this kingdom used to be filled with war and pain and noise.” sanji chances a glance up to find the man already looking at him, and he quickly looks away. “sometimes, he’d come back from war stinking of blood and death. even worse was when he’d bring my siblings with him. he forced them to fight, see— didn’t even give them a choice, because of his experiments.”

the words are bitter as he spits them out, and sanji feels his hair bunch when he tilts his head back against the tree and blows out a breath. “i was always the failure.” the grass is damp with dew as he rubs a few blades between his fingers. “the weak one. the useless one. and i was the one who dragged him outside the city gates and told him that if i ever saw him again i’d take his head.”

he’s no longer as angry about it, he thinks. sanji has spent enough of his life being angry. the thought just carries a muted tone now, satisfied and a little victorious but also resigned— sometimes he looks at fathers in the squares and the markets, carrying their children on their shoulders and indulging them in the smallest of things, overpriced candy and tag on the dusty cobblestones, and his eyes burn. he should have had that. he never did, and he never will.

sanji lets his eyebrows flash up, swallowing against the tightness in his chest. “i don’t know why i’m telling you all this, anyway,” he says with a light, forced laugh. “i don’t even know who the hell you are.”

“nobody important,” the man hums. “not yet. but one day i’ll be the greatest swordsman in the world.”

the prince believes it. he feels something now, at least— a presence of sorts, like pressure from all sides, present but not pushing. just there. “i think… i want to get out of here.”

again, he doesn’t know why he says it. he has the urge to slap a hand over his mouth as soon as he does, in fact. because everything’s fine now, everything’s finally going well; judge is gone, his siblings are safe, his mother is safe, and he should be happy. he is happy. he gets to cook all he wants and he’s—

he’s not. he’s not happy. he wants to go, wants to— to grab a boat and disappear, sail to the edge of the horizon and then beyond. it aches in his chest like someone’s squeezing his heart, fingertips digging into tough muscle, and he rubs the heel of his hand through the fine weave of his shirt.

the man bites into his apple again, and the crisp crunch cuts through the still air. sanji lets his eyes slip shut.

“where do you want to go?” the man asks.

sanji laughs, a soundless exhale. “the all blue. it’s an ocean with every kind of fish you could imagine and then some. i want to open a restaurant. a place of my own where nobody will ever go hungry.”

a pause, and then the man turns to look at him. “do you know why i’m here?”

“no.” sanji cracks an eye open, sighing impatiently. “why?”

“the change. all this place has known for years was turmoil and war and chaos. and then suddenly… it all went silent.” he eyes sanji unreadably. “somebody took notice.”

somebody, huh? if sanji’s dealing with a religious nutcase, he might just burst into laughter. or knock this guy out. maybe both. “you believe in god, then?”

“no,” the man says flatly. “and even if one did exist, they didn’t help you then. they won’t help you now.”

the blonds’s eyes narrow as he sits up straight and slowly raises an eyebrow. “if that’s supposed to be a threat, mosshead, i’m not scared of you.”

“mosshead?!” the other splutters, the first sign of real human emotion sanji’s seen on him, and sanji laughs.

“it fits!”

“it’s—”

“blasphemous? disrespectful?” sanji teases, somehow more at ease than he’s felt in ages. he doesn’t know who this man is, and who he is doesn’t matter— he’s free to run his mouth, and he damn well will.

“you should be scared of me, you know,” the man says, voice gritty, and sanji smirks.

“why so?”

and— oh.

that presence from before increases exponentially, until he feels sweat bead beneath his collar. dirt gathers beneath his fingernails as he scrabbles backwards, instinctive, throat bobbing as he counts three, four, six arms, and three heads, and three grey eyes glinting like watered steel. wind whips through the clearing, shaking the branches of the tree— sanji reminds himself to close his mouth as he sits beneath the rustling, as black tendrils of shadow snake through the air, swelling around the man’s silhouette, silky and molten. it’s not just that overwhelming, omnipresent aura; he’s got to be two heads taller than a normal man at least.

sanji’s breath is stuck in his throat. and then he looks down; that half-eaten apple is still there, shiny and red. the man’s swords — nine of them, now — clatter gently by his hips, and his earrings jingle with something that almost sounds like gentle laughter, and his hair is still impossibly green.

“…is this supposed to be intimidating?” he offers, climbing to his feet with a bored cock of his hip. “i mean, it’s impressive and all, mossy, don’t get me wrong, but—”

the man’s form snaps back to normal in an instant, leaving him with an almost comical look of disbelief on his face. “you’re fuckin’ crazy.”

“i’m traumatised,” sanji corrects, cackling. “after my bastard of a sperm donor, i doubt i could be scared of much else. besides, you haven’t done anything but talk to me. that’s a lot more kindness than most people can say they’ve shown.”

he watches the emotions flash across the man’s face like a play-by-play until his strong features finally settle on something not dissimilar to determination. “we’re going.”

“huh?” the sudden subject change throws him. “where?”

“the all blue,” is the impatient answer as the stranger crosses his arms. “didn’t you say you wanted to go?”

“yes, but—” sanji makes a series of exasperated noises as he tries to find his words. “i can’t just— go! i have responsibilities, i need to—”

“you need to be free,” the man grunts, and sanji stops short. “can’t keep a bird caged and expect it to be happy.”

the prince bites his lip, heart pounding. this is crazy. this is insane, it’s how kidnappings happen, he shouldn’t even he considering this. “…if, even if we were to go— how would we get there? how would we even find it?”

“we’ll figure it out?” the man pins him with a look that says duh, like it’s no big deal. “i know a witch who’s a navigator, she owes me a favour. and a guy who works in a shipyard. it’ll work.” he looks like he’s about to start tapping his foot, but then his expression softens. “one day,” he says, eyes skating across sanji’s face. “we go for one day, sunrise to sundown, and if you don’t like it i’ll bring you right back.”

sanji’s chest aches. his breath trembles against his teeth. “why?”

his stranger swallows, gaze tilting down as his fingers drift to the hilt of the white sword by his side, like it’s a comfort. “you aren’t scared of me.” his eye is a flash of silver as he looks up again, bottled starlight and iron. “maybe that’s more kindness than i’m usually shown, too.”

maybe sanji’s losing his mind. maybe he’d lost it a long time ago. because he finds himself nodding slowly and breathing, “okay.”

a sharp, sure nod. “we leave tomorrow. settle your affairs and meet me down by the beach at dawn.”

“alright.”

sanji watches the man turn and amble away, in no apparent, rush, before a thought strikes him. “wait!”

green hair shifts in the sunlight as he twists back around, one scarred palm by his ear. “hah?”

“what’s your name?” sanji yells across the clearing, and the smile that’s sent his way is blinding.

“meet me and i’ll tell you, curls!” the man yells back, and then he’s gone. just— disappears, like he’d been a figment of imagination.

an apple core tips against sanji’s ankle, pale and clean.

(sora takes one look at his face when he asks and lets him go.

“you’d always been restless,” she tells him gently, as she helps him pack his things into a burlap satchel and sets his spice tins carefully into their case. she says he’d been loud even as a baby, wailing right out of the womb with eyes the blue of cornflowers and summer skies and the water, riotous and gentle and vast like his heart.

she sends him off with a kiss to his forehead, hands cupping his face as she smiles against his skin, and this time sanji welcomes the burn in his eyes.

he finds zoro by the beach like something out of a fairytale, skin bronzed in the light of a new day, glowing with the orange dancing off the waves. he has a boat waiting, barely big enough for two, wrist draped over his sword hilts as he yawns and scratches at his head, and sanji grins so hard his face hurts.

his palms on the lip of sealed wood have his heart pounding hard enough to feel it against his ribs, his shoes sinking into the sand as they push the dinghy out to sea and jump on, and he shoves his hand in the water just because he can.

“zoro,” the man says abruptly, two extra shadows framing him in the sunrise like a mirage, and sanji’s lips curl up at the edge. “that’s my name.”

“okay, mossy,” he sing-songs, and bites down a laughing scream when zoro rocks the boat so hard he nearly falls out.

he does tell zoro his name, when he decides that he’ll stay. they’re still on their little boat; it’s sunset now, and the green-haired man is taking up all the space in his other form, stretched out with his hands folded behind his head. “i’m sanji, by the way,” he offers, offhand, and watches zoro crack an eye open to grunt in acknowledgment.

he pretends not to see the soft smile that the other man flips over to hide. zoro hardly ends up using it anyway, the brute.

sanji really doesn’t mind.)

#don’t know WHERE i was going with this #like feeling around a wall in a dark room with paint on my hand #call that ABSTRACT ART 😏👍🏼#one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #one piece zosan #one piece zoro #zoro #ino writes #this is an au where sanji meets zeff out there i guess… as of now the poor babygirl still thinks he’ll never get Fathered™#JUST YOU WAIT SANJI JUST YOU WAIT #mmkay goodnight yall #and happy 初二 to those who celebrate cny muakss

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babygirlbenji · 9 months

Text

Last Train To London - Mason Mount

A/N: This is just pure sadness. It was fun to write, I'll give you that, but you may need a tissue. Mason, buddy, in this fic, ya done fucked up.

Listen to this while reading:

Warnings: Angst

It had happened slowly, then before you knew it, you and Mason were like passing ships in the ocean.

Your relationship had always been steadfast. You were the couple everyone wanted to be, everyone wanted what you had. His family adored you, especially Summer, who loved going shopping with her Auntie Y/N. His mum swore up and down right from the moment she had met you six months into your relationship that you were it for him, that you would be the one he would marry. He’d shared the same sentiments. In your nearly four years together, the fans had grown to know and adore you on a level no football wife or girlfriend had experienced before. You were so popular among the Chelsea team, it was no wonder you were almost as popular as Mason was, and you didn’t even play for the team.

In the weeks leading up to his move to Manchester, however, you had noticed a distinct change in Mason, and in your relationship. Date nights had gone from three or four times a week, to maybe once every fortnight. He spent much of the evenings on the phone or on Zoom calls with his agent, with the medical teams, with Manchester United representatives. The morning cuddles in bed had been replaced by a swift kiss on your forehead before he hurried off to training or the gym. You had initially put his distance down to the fact that he was busy upping his whole life to the north, and his occasional snappiness to the fact that he was incredibly stressed about the rumours. He was getting hate from everywhere, the fans, media outlets, even people on the street. Calling him a traitor, disloyal, every name under the sun.

Once the transfer was completed and you and Mason had relocated to Manchester, you had hoped that your relationship would improve. You put in every effort you could; making sure you put extra effort into making sure the house was spick and span for when he came home, ensuring the fridge had all sorts of food for every occasion, making sure you looked good even when you were going to bed.

And yet, you could tell none of it was good enough. His heart had drifted, you could see that. You were holding on to false hope, and it was exhausting you. You spent hours awake at night, noticing that some nights he wouldn’t come home until three or four in the morning. He would shuffle about downstairs, and the next morning, you would find him crashed out on the sofa, eyes red and his hair messy.

You’d asked him if he was okay, if your relationship was okay, and all he had offered you was a shrug, saying he’d talk when he was ready. You’d sigh, knowing you were losing him, and there was nothing you could do about it. Once, he’d got angry that you had sighed, saying there was still a lot going on. You’d ended up having a shouting match that lasted well into the night, and you cried yourself to sleep on more than one occasions.

The loneliness you were starting to feel crept in even more. You missed your friends in London, you missed Chelsea, you were never particularly keen on moving up north, having been a born and bred Londoner. Although Kai and Sophia were now in North London, you would rather be closer to them. You didn’t want to admit to them that you and Mason were having issues, but you didn’t know where else to go.

Sophia had been so helpful, offering her and Kai’s new home to you anytime you needed it. You’d asked her not to tell anyone, but you figured one way or another people would find out. Sure enough, one day, when Mason was out somewhere, Ben sent you a message.

Benjamin: Hey Y/N, just checking in. How are you holding up? I know how difficult it is moving to a new place. We miss you down here. Lots of love x

You had stared at his message for about five minutes, before you rang him. He picked up on the second ring.

‘Benji, I’m not okay,’ you croaked through the lump in your throat.

‘What’s happened, darling? Talk to me, I’m right here.’ And so, you told him everything. About the arguments, the loneliness, the distance…

‘I just don’t know what to do, Benj. I feel like we’re miles away from each other when we live in the same house. What did I do wrong? What happened to us? I thought we were endgame. What do I do?’ He sighed, making the line go crackly.

‘You’ve done nothing wrong. I think everything’s gone to his head, and without wanting to be blunt, he’s realised what he wants and what he doesn’t want.’ His words sent a stake through your heart, but you knew he was right. Mason was falling out of love with you.

‘I just never thought this would happen.’

‘Me neither. All of us thought you guys would last. So, what are you going to do?’ You looked down. You knew what you had to do, as much as it shattered your heart.

‘I’m going to pack my things, as much as I can into whatever bags I have, and get on the last train home to London. It’s late, I think the last train to London from Manchester leaves just before midnight. I just can’t hold on any longer, you know? I’ve been miserable for weeks, and he’s barely noticed. I can’t remember the last time we hugged, kissed. I need to do this for me.’

‘I’ll pick you up, text me where your train gets in and I’ll be there. You’re not going through this alone, Y/N, I promise you. He’s the idiot for losing a wonderful girl like you.’ As devastated as you were, his words made you feel slightly better knowing that you weren’t going through it alone. You’d been through a break up before and had been completely on your own, and you were glad you had your people around you.

You and Ben talked a little while longer, before you hung up, promising to tell him when your train would be getting in. You sat up from the sofa, knowing you had to pack a bag or two.

It was nearly 11:30 at night when you’d finished packing. Placing your bags by the door, you made sure you had all your important things, like your passport, driving licence and your phone. You would iron out everything once you had things sorted out in London.

As you zipped up a little shoulder bag with all your necessities, the front door opened. You heard Mason drop his bags down, and you knew by the pause of movement that he had seen your bags. He walked slowly into the dimly lit kitchen, where you were standing with your phone in your hand, pretending to look at something just to avoid looking at him. You knew if you did look at him, you’d reverse your decision.

‘What’s going on?’ Mason asked, voice full of confusion. You braved it, and looked him dead in the eye, hands on your hips.

‘I’m leaving. I’ll be on the last train back to London.’ He opened and closed his mouth a few times, reminding you of a goldfish.

‘What? What are you talking about?’ You let out a soft scoffing laugh.

‘I’m going back home. I’m breaking up with you, Mason, I can’t do this anymore. You have barely looked at me the last few weeks. I get it’s been stressful, I get you’ve been busy, but you don’t think you could have told me what was going on? You’re barely here anymore, I barely see you. And when I do, it’s like I’m seeing a stranger. When was the last time you hugged me? The last time you kissed me? This just doesn't feel like home.’ Your voice broke on the last sentence, and you looked down. You couldn’t cry. Not now, not in front of him. You had to wait until you were on the train home to let it all out. You could listen to sad music and let it all out. ‘The last four years have been amazing. We have grown up together, basically. And we’ve made the most amazing memories, hell, the Champions’ League, the Super Cup, World Cup, Euros, it’s all been a dream come true. But we have to face it, we are not happy together anymore. And I need to do what’s best for me, because I feel like a stranger in my own home.’

His face was a mix of anger, disappointment and downright heartache. He knew he’d lost you. He knew you well enough that you had made your mind up, and there was nothing he could do to turn back time and make it better.

‘I have tried so hard…’ Your voice broke again. ‘I have tried so hard to make us work. I kept the house tidy, I put food on the table, I was there to listen but you never talked. You never made any effort after we moved up here. I dare to think this started even before we moved up here.’ He stepped closer, and it was then that you could see the tears pooling in his eyes. ‘I really hope you find the girl of your dreams, Mase. You deserve that. And I hope this move was worth it all.’ You looked down at the promise ring he’d given to you on your second anniversary. Sliding it off and gently placing it onto the counter, you took a deep breath. ‘Goodbye, Mason.’

And with that, you walked past him and collected your bags. Your Uber was waiting outside to take you to Manchester Central. As the car sped away, you saw Mason running out of the house, yelling your name.

‘Y/N! Y/N, please wait! I’m sorry…’ His pleas faded as the car drove away. The driver looked at you through the rearview mirror, but you stared stubbornly out of the window. You couldn’t turn back now, he had to feel the pain you had been feeling the last few weeks. You had so many things to sort out when you were back in London; a job, a flat, your car, everything just seemed so overwhelming.

As you climbed onto the high-speed sleeper train bound for King’s Cross, you texted Ben to tell him that your train would get in about 3 in the morning. He messaged you back:

Benjamin: No worries, will bring food. Keep strong, I'm so proud of you x

The train pulled away, and you rested your head against the window. Your breath fogged the glass as the lights of Manchester gradually faded away, giving way to dark fields and the occasional small village. Your phone pinged with another message:

Mason: I’m so sorry.

Then another.

Mason: Please forgive me.

And another.

Mason: What can I do to make things better?

You looked at his last message. What could he do to make things better? Rewind the last few weeks? You sighed as your finger acted without thought and blocked his number. You then went onto Instagram and blocked his main verified account, then his private account. Before you blocked his private account, however, you had a final glance at the photos of your relationship that littered it. His main account was football focused, but anyone who followed his private account could see he’d worshipped the ground you walked on. Tears were falling thick and fast down your cheeks. What had happened to you? You locked your phone, resting your head on your arms.

The future was uncertain and your heart was aching, but you were going to be back in London, surrounded by your people. You knew that somehow, some day, you were going to be okay.

#mason mount #mason mount fic #mason mount blurb #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount angst #mason mount x you #mason mount oneshots #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x y/n #chelsea fc #manchester united #football imagines #footballer imagines #Spotify

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tadpolesonalgae · 10 months

Text

Helion x Reader: New Mechanisms[*]

A/N: HAHAHAHA I LOVE HIM

Warnings: Helion being a fun and kinky husband.

You could smell the wine before you even opened the door leading his chambers—top floor of the palace.

He’s already sprawled across a chaise, adored in a cotton robe threaded with gold, the usual arm band fashioned to a snake sitting comfortably around his bicep. His eyes slide to your figure, sharpening with a predatory gleam as he raises the bottle to his mouth, drinking deeply.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you drawl, shutting the double doors behind you, moving across the open space of the living room.

It’s cavernous, almost. The wards are down today, allowing a breeze to sweep through, a pleasant refresher to the stuffiness of your work place. The light wind swishes the hem of your light dress which ends just above your ankles, feet adorned in low heels, cream leather with golden thread accenting the laces that wrap up your calves. Perhaps fashioned to match your husband. He does so enjoy it when you look the part of a happy couple.

You shuck off the uniform blazer of your work place: a thin, tuscan red, cashmere jacket that’s lined with viscose on its interior. Light, and breathable enough for you not to swelter in the heat of the Day Court.

“I have a day off tomorrow, wife.” That gleam in his eye promises nothing but divine pleasure, and it’s taken you years to master the art of not crumbling when he gives you that look. Instead, you set your bag down on one of the sandstone counters, already reaching to free your hair from its relatively neat restraint.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to spend it resting then, husband.” You emphasis, setting down on one of the hand carved wooden stools surrounding the counter as you begin untying your heels, exposing the length of your leg.

“I will do no such thing,” he drawls, popping a grape into his mouth, tipping his head back to catch it, exposing the strong column of his throat. The dark skin you want to taste. The skin beneath those robes, too.

His eyes gleam, catching your glance, smirking at you.

You merely roll your eyes, allowing one shoe to drop to the floor while you start on the other. “Wine and cooled grapes? My, my, Helion. So decadent.”

“You should see what I’m planning to have tonight. She puts decadent to shame.”

You raise a brow, peering at him from your seat, “such a shameless flirt. Honestly, one would think you’d be satiated by now.”

A deep, rich laugh rumbles from his chest, and warmth ignites in your chest from the sound alone. “Me? Tire of you?” You roll your eyes again, but that’s indeed a smile that’s lifting the edges of your mouth. He never fails to make you feel divine. Delectable. As if you’re the most mouth-watering creature he’s ever come across.

You reach for the bag once you’ve removed your final heel. “I may have gotten a little present for my hard-working High Lord,” you croon, a teasing smile playing on your lips. His hand stills on the way to his mouth, the grape moments away from being devoured.

His attention narrows onto your figure as you collect the bag, bare feet slapping against the cool, stone panels as you make your way over to him. You push his long legs off the chaise, as if you’re making to sit beside him. Except you slide into his lap, seating yourself atop one of his muscled thighs, pushing the bag to him.

“Are you going to make me guess this time? Or am I free to open it and see the wonders inside?” He teases, but you can tell he’s interested in its contents. You lean forward, a hand wrapping around his wrist as you steal the grape from his fingers, lips grazing their pads before you pull away, grinning.

“You’re free to open it,” you say, delighting in the refreshingly cool juice of the fruit.

From inside, he pulls out an object wrapped in aquamarine tissue paper. He recognises the signature card that accompanies it instantly.

His eyes snap to you, voice low and rough as he drawls, “where’s this from?” You offer another grin at the husky baritone, settling your hand on the window of dark skin his robe reveals at the top of his broad chest. “Just something I’ve recently finalised from work,” you grin wickedly.

A growl resounds in his chest, “you didn’t mention you were nearing the end of your…project.”

“Would you like me to take it back? Technically this is a prototype, so I shouldn’t even be showing it to you, High Lord.” You reach for the tissue but he pulls it out of your reach, chuckling. His free hand wraps around your waist, pulling you against him, “here you are, stealing things from work,” he drawls, hand lowering to your hip, “yet every believes you to be the sweet, innocent one.”

You raise a single brow in challenge, “are you saying you’re the sweet, innocent one?” He looks like he’s about to reply, but you shift in his lap, “open it.”

“Impatient.” He mutters, but follows your order, removing the tissue paper to reveal the object. His brow scrunches as he studies the toy. You laugh at his expression, “you’re looking as if you expected to know what it was.”

His eyes slide to you, “it’s entirely new?” You offer him a sultry smile, “I might have made a few modifications for it to…fit.”

He swallows. “How does it work?”

The grin on your mouth turns feline, “want me to show you?”

————

He’d nodded, and when you had moved to walk to the bedroom, he’d simply snuck his large palms beneath your ass, and scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his hips. You startled, but quickly settled into him, thighs squeezing him as you felt the very obvious sign of his arousal.

You’d wound against him teasingly, to which he’d let out a rough laugh before seating himself at the edge of the bed, keeping you spread out over his lap.

Your dress has hiked up to your thighs from having him between them, but you make no move to pull it down.

“Want to at least explain what you’re about to put me through, honey?” He drawls, enjoying how your hands deftly begin unfastening the clasps at his broad shoulders, ridding him of the offending cotton. Your eyes flick to his with a sultry glint, “hell.”

His mouth twists into a divine grin of blissful resignation. “I would expect no less from my wife.” You practically purr at that. Even after all these years, it does something to you. When he calls you his wife. A shiver runs down your spine as you allow Helion to remove the rest of his robes as your hands drop to your dress. You lift onto your knees to help him, until you’re both naked.

“You mentioned some modifications?” He drawls, gripping your hips, rolling you gently over his thighs, so you’re pressed tight to his abdomen.

You reach for the invention of yours: it’s a thick, hollow circle, wrapped in what looks like rubber but’s much softer, has more give. It’s cream coloured, with golden dusted edges where the seams would be. At one end is a swell of that rubbery material that’s softly serrated. Tiny, neat ridges ingrained as they are on the interior of the ring.

“I had to make it a little…larger. To accommodate you, comfortably,” you reply, and you feel pleasure warm you cheeks at the mention of his generous…size. A purely male grin lifts his lips at that, and you can feel the pride radiating from the cocky male.

“You and that cock of yours,” you drawl, incredulously.

He shoots you a grin that, were you standing, would’ve had you on your knees in an instant. “I thought you liked this cock of mine,” he smirks, shifting his hips so you can feel the size of him against your tummy.

You look him in the eyes as you settle your hands on his shoulders, raising to your knees, “more than you know, husband.” His hands brace your hips, “no prep?” He’s frowning at you—disapprovingly. You flush, and look away shyly for a moment, an embarrassed smile on your lips. “The testers today… I might have volunteered to try another prototype, one that isn’t fully ready yet…”

He groans, cupping your cheeks, staring up at you from your raised position, “is that what the tug was? That wave of happiness I felt earlier today, hm?” Your hands overlap his, nodding, and he moans at the mental image. “Tell me what happened.”

He grips himself, free hand resting on your hip, guiding you downward, slowly. “I…It’s the twin to the one I brought home a few months ago…” you manage. A contented sigh leaves your lips as you take the first two inches of him, and you struggle for words. He just grins, smugly. Helion raises you to his tip, only to encourage you further down, and the pads of your fingers dig into the muscle of his shoulders. “keep going,” he drawls, and you can’t tell if he’s talking about your daytime adventures or sinking down onto his cock.

“It’s…got similar mechanisms as this one…” you breathe, lifting your hips, then taking more of him. “Making it…more advanced…” you manage, panting as you take as much of him as you can.

His hands snake up your front, thumbing your nipples, attaching his mouth to your own as moans are exchanged between you. You keep still for a while, catching your breath while Helion lays his lips over your neck, nipping and biting as you pant, feeling full. “You’re taking me so well, honey.” He kisses your throat, “I know it’s a big stretch for you.”

Smug bastard.

You can practically feel his cocky grin as you try to keep from losing your head just having him pressing so tight against you. It’s so good.

You pull at his onyx hair, pulling his devilish mouth from your skin, “we’ll see who’s struggling after this, shall we?” The spark in his eyes shows he accepts your challenge. “Maybe hold your horses until you won’t pass out from the slightest movement,” he drawls, making you scowl.

He sees you opening your mouth, but grips your hips, rolling you down. You gasp, slumping forward, head resting on his shoulder as he chuckles, stroking your hair. “I know, I know,” he soothes, “it’s a lot to take, isn’t it?” You can barely manage to scowl at his conceited words disguised as comfort.

He’s right, though.

With more strength than should be necessary, you manage to lift yourself from his lap, settling back onto his thighs. You reach for the toy, sliding it over the head of his cock. Helion shivers as you gently slide it down, like how you had done with yourself—making sure the rubbery contraption is slicked well, moving it with ease.

It settles at his base, where you struggle to reach—with your cunt or your mouth.

Shakily, you raise up again, perching at his tip. You might honestly pass out from pleasure this time. You can feel the aroused heat bubbling beneath your skin, and can practically taste his own in the air.

Helion help as you sink down onto him, grasping you by the hips until that swell at the front of the toy is pressing over your clit. You shiver in anticipation and he twitches in response. It seems both of you are desperate for that first release—which will inevitably lead to a number more following.

Your thighs are trembling, but you manage to reach around, finding the finger-tip sized invert in the mechanism. “I’m honestly not sure if I’ll be able to move once this turns on,” you warn gently. He gives you a devious smile. “What do you think all these muscles are for?” You tighten around him as his grip intensifies over your hips. The thought of him slamming you down is enough to have your own strength giving out.

His eyes gleam as if he’s read the thought in your mind.

“Why don’t you start it up, huh?” He drawls softly, pressing a kiss to your nose. You swallow, but tap the divot twice, and the vibrations start.

You gasp, sucking in a breath as the sensations swell over your clit, sending tiny ricochets bound up your body. Helion groans in response, and you know he’s feeling it too—the rapid, quick-fire pulses squeezing his cock in fast succession. Your back curves, pressing down, driving him deeper until he’s touching that spot inside of you that makes you weep when he abuses it.

“Fuck, honey…” Helion moans, gripping you tight. “What a wicked mind you have.” You only manage a soft whine in response, that turns into a whimper when he lifts you up—just as he promised, and—

Oh gods—

—slams you down.

Your eyes roll, nails biting into him as pleasure doubles…triples within you, rapidly dividing over and over until you’re made of euphoria. You can’t manage words, they’re beyond you. Just met with endless waves of pleasure as he continues raising your hips then roughly sliding you back down. Making sure his cock kisses that spot inside you every damn time.

It’s so much, so much that you can feel the high building already, gathering with enough force to promise to send you reeling, melting into him. And you’re entirely right.

The high knocks you off your feet, and you slump into your husband, collapsing as your mouth opens over his shoulder. You bite down lightly, a gentle scrape of your teeth over his dark skin as you moan from the intensity.

You think you scream as he keeps up the pace, making you gush, release spurting from you when it can, splashing down him as he growls with male pleasure.

One large palm scoops beneath you, his middle and forefinger fitting either side of his cock as he helps you bounce up and down, soaking them in the process. You can feel him spilling into you in response to your fluttering cunt, and you moan, crying out at the pleasure.

Helion grips your jaw lightly, pulling you back gently and your brows curve with the effort. Heat engulfs your body as he raises those soaked fingers to his mouth, lapping at your flavour while he watches you hungrily.

The moment his mouth is free, you’re opening your lips over him, kissing him deeply as you take in the taste. Moans and groans fill the room, arousal twining in the air.

The High Lord doesn’t give you a moment’s rest, laying back on the bed, a pillow beneath his head so he can watch.

Watch as he grips your hips firmly, and begins all over again.

The air is kicked from your lungs, a strained whimper dragging from your throat as he bucks upward. The swell of rubber presses flush against your clit, still sending those rapid, sporadic pulses and you mewl.

“Mother—fuck, Helion!” You gasp as he rolls his hips against yours, already pounding into you, making you bounce. He hardly needs a second of recovery time. You grit your teeth as he slams into you, panting, jerking slightly every time those vibrations wash upon the apex of your thighs.

“Come on,” he groans, thumbs rubbing over your hips, “you can do another. I know you can.”

All your muscles tighten with the overstimulation. Your thighs flexing, stomach clenching with pleasure as tears brim at the edges of your lashes. “Helion…” you whimper.

It was the wrong thing to do. It’s only ever spurred him on.

He grips you firmly, bands of light contracting around your waist as he pulls your down on his cock. That damned swell on the toy overlapping your clit, sending those tight, intense pulses.

You scream, your palms smacking against his hard stomach, pressing against the muscle as your mouth drops open. “What did you say earlier?” He drawls, keeping you flush to the mechanism. “Seeing who would be struggling more?” He laughs, and it’s deep and rich, a shiver running down your spine.

Another high is already building from the insane stimulation and you roll your hips against Helion’s. He jerks and groans deeply but forces his hands away, allowing you to pleasure him.

You settle your hands on his stomach and raise your hips before slamming down.

Helion snarls with pleasure, growling at the back of his throat as he feels how tightly you’re hugging him, how eagerly you’re riding him.

“Helion…” you moan. It’s sweet enough he brings his hands to your hips, and helps you along. Grinding against you. Bucking up. Slamming you down.

Your nails bite into him but neither of you care. Honestly, you think Helion likes that edge. Knowing how good he’s making you feel.

It’s not much longer before you’re both spiralling again, and you’re fully aware of how loud you scream.

“Gracious, honey,” Helion remarks roughly, that deep drawl that drags from his throat sending mindless pleasure spinning beneath your skin. He follows behind you, your own release setting his off as euphoria spills down the bond, flooding his mind as he continues slamming you down until you’re putty in his hands.

Your shoulders slump, and this time you reach round and double tap the divot in the toy, bringing to a standstill. You gasp, gulping down air as you pant. Helion’s hands wrap over your shoulders, pulling you down against him, the bands of light removing themselves. You go very willingly, melting into the strong warmth of him.

“I think you’re little invention worked a bit too well, honey,” he drawls, rubbing your back soothingly, feeling how drained you already are.

“It’s not little at all,” you grumble, half slurring your words through fatigue.

He laughs in response, but moves to sit upright.

“Dear gods, don’t—” A whine spills from your lips as his cock shifts inside of you and your back arches from sensitivity, nipples scraping over his chest. “You can either get off, or we can go another round,” Helion taunts, bucking his hips slightly.

You release a garbled sound that makes him smirk—smug. So smug.

You scramble off him, thighs trembling as you collapse onto the bed. Helion discards the too good toy, removing it to the bathroom where it would be washed—later.

He’s already tucking you in beside him despite the sun still just about the horizon. “What skilled hands you have, wife,” he mocks, softly, pressing kisses to your forehead as he plasters you against his chest. “I think my mouth’s a little better, husband,” you shoot back, making him nip at the tip of your ear. “Don’t tempt me.”

You huff a laugh, tipping your head to look at him, “you and your libido.”

“Insatiable. I know,” he gives you a grin that tells you he’s not at all ashamed of it. You kiss him, letting him know you agree.

“One day,” you murmur, wearily. “One day, I’m going to ware you out.”

He just laughs merrily, holding you tight, “keep dreaming, wife.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

#Helion #helion x reader #New Mechanisms #Helion smut #Helion x reader smut #day Court #acotar

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bunnysbrainrot · 8 months

Text

No Vacancy - Day Two

Characters: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader, Dean, Castiel

Content: Majorly plot building. Romantic/sexual tension.

Summary: In day two of your one-on-one case with Sam, you gather intel together. Once things settle down for the second night, Dean reveals some news. Sam realizes he’s made a huge mistake involving a lust spell.

*A/N: This chapter was getting a bit long, and I haven’t posted in a couple days, so this chapter is out early! Honestly I like the pacing of this a bit better so I don’t burn out. Y’all better be ready for the next chapter 👀

————

“Mrs. O’Connor, would you say that your daughter had any enemies? Anyone who would want to cause her harm?” Sam’s tone was filled with compassion as the woman explained the situation.

Her lips wobbled, “I-I don’t know. Casey was a sweet girl, she just got caught up in the wrong crowd, that’s all.”

“Did you see any changes in her behavior in these past few weeks?” You piped up, matching the softness of Sam’s voice.

Casey’s mother shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. You reached into the inner pocket of your suit jacket, handing her a pack of tissues. She gives you thanks and takes a moment before she speaks again.

“Not much. She was quieter, sure, but I thought, y’know, maybe she was depressed - she spent almost all of her time in her room. We were so close, and she just… distanced herself.”

“How so?” Sam asked.

Through tears, her voice broke, “Her whole demeanor changed, got… darker. She wouldn’t let me into her room anymore. That was where we had our movie nights…”

You nodded as you listened, glancing to Sam for a sign of a breakthrough, but his expression was muddled. A few moments later you were handing your personal number to Casey’s mother, and wishing her a good day.

Sam asked, “So, what do you think?”

“I think we should check her room, but we need to give her mom some time,” you replied, mulling over what could have caused Casey’s murder.

Your phone buzzed against your hand in your pocket. To your relief you saw a text from Casey’s mother: Thank you for your help. I’m glad Casey has people who care like you do.

You showed Sam the message. His eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“What do I say back?”

“Well, we need to mention looking at Casey’s room,” Sam detailed, “and that we’re happy to help further.”

Your fingers fiddled with your phone as you issued a reply.

Of course. I’m sure the police have done so already, but we were given instruction to inspect Casey’s room. Would you mind letting us look around later today?

The reply was swift: Yes, that's fine. I'll be home later this evening, 7 p.m. would be the best time.

Stuffing your phone back into your pocket, you updated Sam.

"She says we can come back at 7 tonight. Until then, we should probably look over the police report and see who might know what happened to her."

Sam nodded, "We'll head back to the motel and look into it."

The motel. The goddamn motel where you and Sam blurred the lines of your friendship. With any luck, he wouldn't mention anything of last night, or this morning.

It was the way it felt so normal to wake up with him, to be enveloped in his arms, his scent, his soft breathing before he woke. It was a one-time thing that wouldn't, and couldn't, happen again. It was a vow - a guarantee to yourself that you wouldn't slip up like before. You reminded yourself on loop until you reached the motel again.

—

Twenty minutes later, and you were still staring at your computer screen. The thoughts couldn't flow like they normally did with your research. Vague searches covered the screen, but nothing constructive.

'Casey O'Connor family' 'Casey O'Connor facebook' 'Casey O'Connor instagram' 'Casey O'Connor death’

The tension you held in the pit of your stomach turned over itself when Sam cleared his throat.

"Find anything yet?"

Your breath hitched in your throat. Maybe Sam hadn't given things much thought after all. His tone was his usual curious self, but those bright hazel eyes swallowed you whole.

"Uh- no, not yet," you stammered, "I was, um, gonna take a pause and go to the lobby. About the... room situation."

Sam's lips thinned into a terse smile. For him, he didn't care one bit if there was another room available. He watched you leave the room, cursing himself all the while you were gone. You returned with a nervous smile, sparking a hidden hope in Sam's chest.

"Still no other rooms. And no cots, either."

It was Sam's turn to remind himself that last night crossed a boundary. All he'd thought about today was you, regardless of how hard he tried to reroute his thoughts. The way you'd buried your head into his chest, how you murmured in your sleep, how delicate your body felt in his hands...

He snapped himself out of it again, muttering to himself.

"What'd you say?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head, "Nothing, I'm just mumbling to myself."

You let out a soft laugh, taking a seat on the bed. The ache in your shoulders reminded you of the consequences of sitting hunched over on the floor.

"The least they could've done was give us a desk or something."

"That's what you get in a small town, remember?" Sam quipped, that goofy grin back in action. You rolled your eyes at him and settled into your side of the bed, laptop open across your lap again.

Sam leaned over to you, staring at your screen. Well, you weren't lying when you said things on your end weren't interesting. You turned your head, watching him scour the Google search you haphazardly thought up.

"I... didn't really know what to look up," you admitted flatly.

He let out a breathy laugh, glancing sidelong at you. Those damn eyes. Part of you dared to close the inches between you, to brush your lips against his as if it were nothing. One wrong move, and you could risk everything you'd made with him. You surveyed his parted lips, suddenly pulled back up to his gaze when he cleared his throat. You shook yourself out of your trance and gave him a muttered apology before he took your laptop.

Within seconds he found something substantial - report cards from school, Facebook posts, tagged photos on Instagram.

"How'd you do that?" You asked.

Sam pushed himself beside you to give you a better angle at the screen, "First thing you gotta do is have the full name. Otherwise, you're flooding your search with 'Casey O'Connor's' from all over the country."

His arm brushed against yours, but he didn't pull away. Instead he rested fully against you as his fingers flew over the keys, opening page after page of information. You chose to let go and ease into him, head dropped to his shoulder as you watched. Sam's fingers stalled more than usual with you now relaxed against him. It was his turn for his thoughts to escape him.

"So, um," you piped up, "what are we looking for?"

He cleared his throat, "Changes in behavior, maybe in stuff that she posted, grades dropping, anything that seems like a red flag."

Casey's most recent posts to Instagram caught your eye. After explaining your gut feeling to Sam, the both of you kept mental note that perhaps Casey did get involved with something sinister.

—

The two of you had gotten lunch, lazed about town, and stoped by Casey’s school by the time 7 pm rolled around. At the O’Connor house, you kept downstairs to talk with the family, while Sam searched Casey’s bedroom. It took about 30 minutes, and you two were on your way.

“What’d you find?”

Sam handed you his phone, the photos organized into a neat folder. You inspected each image, taking stock in each sign - herbs scattered around, countless candles, and bottles of dark liquid.

“Is that..?”

“Blood, yeah. Almost didn’t see them; one rolled out of the closet. And if you see here,” he trailed on, scrolling to another photo, “seems like a pretty intricate altar in there.”

“Figures why she wouldn’t want her mom in the room,” you added.

You handed the phone back to Sam, fighting back a shiver when his hand grazed yours.

Perhaps he noticed, too, judging by the way his cheeks blushed. In the evening sun, it was barely noticeable but you were almost certain of it. You packed yourselves into the car and drove back to the motel. You rummaged through your duffel bag the moment you stepped in the door, picking out a new outfit for bed. Sam kicked off his dress shoes and shrugged off his suit jacket.

“Bedtime already, huh?” Sam teased. You turned to him and smiled.

“Just wanna get cozy. Makes doing research much easier.”

Sam shrugged, “Not a bad idea, I’ll probably do the same when you’re done. Need to get out of this damn suit.”

—

The time on your computer screen read 11:43 p.m., meaning you and Sam had been continuing your research for at least two hours. It had taken a toll of you both, with eyes dry and shoulders aching. You rested your tired eyes and felt the pull of exhaustion start to take over.

Until Sam’s phone rang - it was Dean. Sam immediately placed his brother on speakerphone.

“How’s the lovely couple?” Dean asked. He wasn’t in the room, but you could tell he was smiling - a shit eating grin that irritated you as much as his brother.

“Very funny, Dean,” Sam replied smoothly, a twitch in his eyebrow showed his annoyance. “How are things going on your end?”

Castiel muttered in the background of the phone call. Dean stuttered over his words as he told Cas to stop interfering.

“Okay, so we did a little searching on Casey. I mean, well, Cas did most of it. Turns out, our lovely Miss O’Connor had gotten involved with magic.”

Sam’s eyes snapped to yours, then to his laptop where he had stored photos of Casey’s bedroom. As you two listened to Dean the dots connected to make a full picture.

It was Castiel’s voice that piped up next, “We have reason to believe that Casey was involved with something dark. It doesn’t look like your average witchcraft. We’re talking about more forceful magic - breaking and creating soulmate contracts.”

He continued, “Those kind of bonds, soulmates, are meant to take time. It seems that Casey’s spells were focused on peoples driving emotions. Feelings like fear, insecurity, lust, and mania. Anything that could make people act out, it’s been happening in her social circle.”

“So, basically she’s playing Cupid?” you offered.

“Exactly,” Dean confirmed, interrupting Cas, “we broke some of the spells, but it seems like Casey did all of her little projects at home. Hell, she sent the spells to her friends in the mail. Who knew you could Amazon Prime some witchcraft.”

You chuckled at the joke, rolling your eyes. Sam smiled at you with relief that this whole situation had blown over.

“So, what’s next?” you prodded.

“If you two didn’t see any weird hoodoo at Casey’s house, then everything should be all settled.”

Sam furrowed his brows, “But Casey was murdered, how did she die, then?”

Dean replied, “That’s the karma of it. Casey planted a sachet on her boyfriend - love spell gone haywire. He eventually went a little too love-crazy, and ended up killing her. Jealousy was the source of it.” His tone has grown sullen with the final piece of news.

Now with the extra details, you didn’t know how to feel. What happened to Casey had been horrible, and it had worked itself out in the end. It was the part of hunting that never settled well with you. Sometimes, you simply couldn’t save everyone.

“Got it. So we’ll head back out tomorrow to meet you at the bunker, yeah?” Sam confirmed.

Dean’s tone changed to playfulness again, “Actually, I need y’all to check out a case the next town over. Mind camping out a couple more nights?”

It seemed Dean’s request was a final verdict based on the way Sam pursed his lips.

“Yeah, no problem, talk to you later,” Sam ended the call. He threw his phone onto the bed and closed his laptop.

“You alright?” You asked him. Sam let out a soft sigh and looked toward his suit jacket by the door.

“I think I might’ve screwed up.”

You did a double take, “What do you mean? Dean and Cas figured it out.”

He raced over to the jacket, fishing through the pockets until he plucked a small bundle. Your expression dropped completely at the sachet in his palm. Sam returned to your side and let you examine it - a small brown sack you assumed held herbs, oils, and then some. The sigils across the fabric stumped you; they were nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“What is this, Sam?”

“One of her spells,” he said, defeated, “I wanted to examine it, to see if someone planted something on her. That was before we knew that Casey was the witch.”

“Okay, so, what kind of spell is it?” you asked further.

Sam reopened his laptop, silent as he furiously typed away. Image after image splayed onto the screen - the realization came over the two of you at once.

“Lust.”

He coughed at the word, unable to choose his next move. Sam leaned back and let his head thump against the wall.

“Can’t we just…. burn it? Toss it out?”

With bated breath you waited for Sam to say something, anything. Instead he just shook his head.

“By now I’ve had it on me for hours. We’re kind of past the point of burning it.”

“Okay, but the spells only work on feelings that are already there, right? It wouldn’t work unless you’re with someone you wanted to, um… you know.”

Sam’s breathing quickened with each passing second. His words came out with an overwhelming shakiness.

“It’s a little late for that.”

Hi again! Thanks so much for supporting my work, the next chapter will be out in the next couple of days!

- Bunny

#spnfandom #spn #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester

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jiminiecrickets · 7 months

Text

jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2.4k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, oral (r. receiving), cock worship, boot worship, sir kink, feminisation + crossdressing

it's no secret that jungkook likes to be pretty. he loves dressing up, choosing a belt to go with his shoes, doing his makeup while directing you on how to best match him for a couple's outfit. but neither is it a secret that out of the two of you, he's the one in charge of your outward appearances.

so, when you appear in a crisp suit and show him a cute white gift bag stuffed with purple tissue paper to hide its contents, he's more than a little suspicious, and rather thrown-off. you want to dress him? preposterous!

then he sees what you've bought him, and all of his grumbling immediately ceases.

"what do you say, darling?"

he gazes up at you through his lashes, his blush extending down his neck and shoulders. his tanned skin, like burnished gold, is warmed by the rosy glow. he's dressed in a tiny black skirt and a black bustier, complete with fishnets and a garter belt, and ankle-strap stiletto heels. he's a classic beauty – nothing ever looks bad on him. "th-thank you, sir..."

you hum, crossing your ankle over your knee. your sleek black leather shoes catch the low light of the lamp behind you. you could get used to this. "you're welcome, baby. you look so good in black, don't you? mind giving me a spin?"

he nibbles on his plump lower lip and fidgets with his hands. he gives you a little spin, giggling shyly when you groan wantonly at the sight of his skirt flying up for a split second to reveal his lace panties. "what do you think, sir? did you get the right size?"

"did i get the right size," you mutter mockingly under your breath, grabbing his hips and tugging him in close. you press a soft kiss to his bulge as you gaze up at him, his cock pressed up against his stomach beneath the cloth of his skirt. "fuck, baby, this was mostly a joke, but..."

"but?" he whispers inquisitively, playing with the hem of his soft skirt. he strokes your hair, humming softly as he sways to a sweet pop song playing faintly in the apartment above you. the strappy black top hugs every curve and plane of his chest and you can't help but feel a tiny bit jealous.

"but i can't tell if i should keep you like this, or..." your warm hand slides down the tight curve of his ass. "get to the main course."

he bites his lip to suppress his shy smile, trailing his hands lightly over your shoulders as he lowers himself to his knees. he slides his hands down against the insides of your knees, settling himself neatly between them. "your dessert is waiting, sir. better finish quickly."

you huff. he's not supposed to be the one making demands of you. but his chest looks so good in that little heart-shaped neckline, filling it out nice and tight. he glances down at himself slyly and leans forward, arching his back with his hands between his thighs. he giggles at your slow sigh.

"you really like it, don't you, sir?" he drawls out the title almost mockingly – the tease. "maybe i should dress all pretty like this again. if i knew you liked my tits so much, i would've showed them off more often."

"you wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off of them if you did," you mutter, leaning back in your chair and watching as he drags your zipper down with his teeth, your belt already undone. it was no defence at all to him.

"i know," jungkook hums sweetly, hooking a finger under the waistband of your underwear. he grins, shockingly innocent despite his outfit and what he's doing. "i like it when you look at me."

he drags his tongue, hot and wet, along the underside of your cock and wraps his lips around the tip, moaning at the taste. you comb your fingers through his hair, tilting your head back with a soft groan. he takes a few more inches, sucking wetly, and strokes what he can't fit in one hand, gazing up at you with those huge brown eyes that can do no harm.

"don't look at the ceiling," he whines, lapping hungrily at the head of your cock and sliding the tip of his tongue along the slit, where precum leaks in little beads. "i want you to look at me, sir."

"fuck," you breathe, lowering your gaze. "my little attention whore, hm?"

he hums in agreement around your dick, his lips parting as he forces it down his throat. he gags but doesn't let that stop him, attempting it again without a second thought.

he's so fucking warm, so fucking tight. his throat pulses around your cock as he swallows constantly to avoid gagging on your length, bobbing shallowly.

jungkook can't speak, but you can see his reply in the heated, heavy depth of his gaze. all yours. he grabs your hips, pulling your cock deeper down his throat, and you suck in a hiss as his nose brushes your stomach, his plush wet lips wrapped tight around your base. spit-slick, he swallows your cock like a damn porn star, moaning around it as he grinds into air. his tall black heels press against his ass with each roll.

you take your time enjoying the sight, guiding his head to slow him down. he's too eager, choking on your cock to an unsteady beat, and you have to teach him otherwise. saliva drips down his chin as he pants and sucks wetly, moans coming out in short staccato stutters. he's always been a pillow princess, talking big game until you actually do things to him. he melts the moment you put your mouth on him, and his fucked-out expressions and babbled love confessions never cease to swell your heart.

he adores receiving, but on the rare occasions that you let him please you, it gets his head all hot and fuzzy. he's your boy and he will be good.

he mouths at your cock, panting softly against it. the heat of his breath makes it twitch, and he licks his lips as he envelops the thick head in his mouth, tongue dragging against the glans. he gazes up at you, deep brown eyes large and sweet, and leaves hungry, lingering kisses along your shaft and tip.

"good girl," you mutter, combing his silky hair from his forehead and twisting it in your fist, a makeshift ponytail. he moans loudly on your cock, gulping down the inches as if he's starved.

his hips judder weakly against your leg. his cock is meltingly hot, throbbing inside the tight panties. the cotton threads of his fishnets dig tightly into his sensitive skin; he whines around your dick as his head spins with the pain, gripping your calf with one clawed hand. the muscle of your leg flexes beneath his nails. the leather garter belt pinches around his thick thighs, and the way that there's too much of him to fit makes your mouth water.

"mmhm," he mumbles, your cock still stuffed in his mouth. he draws back and suckles on the tip, cheeks hollowing, and moans as you tug sharply on his hair and tap your cock on his slick, plump lips. "sir, please – no more, want it inside me, want you in me so bad, i'll do anything..."

"didn't fuck you hard enough yesterday, did i?" you ask, amused. you shift your grip in his hair, guiding his lips to your cock again. he parts his lips eagerly, taking it in with a soft sigh. he grinds his caged cock into your leg. "mm, look at you, such a pretty thing all dressed up f'me. feel like the luckiest guy on the planet."

jungkook averts his gaze, tucking his shoulders inwards involuntarily. he strokes your cock to a quick beat, heart fluttering at the sound of your pleased groan. "th-thank you, baby... i like the heels."

"mm, me too. make your legs go on for days." you stroke his hair and he moans softly around your cock as your nails scrape, tingling, over his scalp. he relaxes his jaw and sinks down on you as far as he can, lips stretched white around your cock as he sucks wetly. his tongue flicks against it, rubbing and gliding, and the soaking heat of his mouth and the tightness of his throat have the coil in your lower stomach twisting to breaking point. you release a string of colourful curses as he bobs his head, rapid and shallow, and you cup the back of his neck, pushing him deeper down on your cock.

he mewls, the wet sounds echoing around the room obscene and filthy. he grinds his cock desperately into your leg, arching his spine and shoving his cock tight against the laces of your oxfords. he lifts his skirt to feel more of you, and his cute cock peeks over the top of his black panties. the pink goes so well with the black.

he gets sloppy. his movements are rushed and needy, more like humping than grinding, and he mewls when your composure cracks and you thrust up harshly into the heat of his mouth.

he loves the taste of you. it's a dirty, lewd confession, even to make to himself, and he can't help but whimper in embarrassment as waves of white-hot lust roll over his body, touching every nerve and vein until all he can think is more.

he'd lick up all of you if he could. your cock, your stomach, your chest, the soft underside of your chin – and he knows what you look like sweat-slick and exhausted only because he pesters you until you go to the gym together. when you are fucking him into the mattress he's usually too gone to truly appreciate it.

he wishes so dearly to run his tongue over every part of you. every hard plane, every soft curve – he wants to learn it, taste the salt of your sweat, shower you with kisses like you do with him.

but for now, he'll placate himself with the thick heat of your cock buried down his throat. there's a reason he offered his body as a prize, free to play with as desired – he's too shy to initiate all of it himself. you're a little louder – or, at least, you're crasser, and you like to make him go beet red in embarrassment when you whisper in his ear about all the bad things you want to do to him. maybe, when he's feeling brave again, he'll write it down on a cute square of paper and tuck it into your pocket when you're not looking.

jungkook comes first, suddenly and violently. he grinds against your leg with a needy cry, swallowing your cock haphazardly until you come down his throat, tight and hot and clamping around you with each gulp and breath. his nails dig into your thighs, scrabbling at the smooth dark cloth, and he slows as he milks your cock with the smooth muscle of his throat. his eyes are shut, flushed face lax with pleasure, and his cock throbs in its binds. cum spurts rhythmically against his stomach, dripping down the inside of his pretty skirt. it smears against the creases of his inner thighs and he squirms, panting – hot and dazed – as he finally, begrudgingly, draws off your cock with a wet pop.

he sits back on his heels, arms trembling slightly as he grips onto you for support. with dark, glazed eyes, he parts his lips, showing off his empty mouth. you tuck his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting his head to the side; you swipe your thumb over a spot of cum and place it gently between his lips, groaning softly as he leans in and sucks it clean.

you smirk, shifting your leg. his come is smeared along the tip of your black leather shoe, marring its otherwise pristine surface. "clean it up, babygirl."

he blushes dark, burning up beneath his skin, and he places his hands demurely between his thighs as he lowers himself and licks it up. he moans softly, completely under your spell.

at your assenting hum, he sits back on his heels. he pants softly and grins, wide and perfectly content.

"you, mh, wanna fuck me, now?"

you scoff and roll your eyes, tucking yourself away. standing, you grab his upper arm and toss him onto the bed, seizing his hip and rolling him onto his stomach. you tug his hips upwards and his eyes widen as you hook the panties between his legs under your finger, moving it aside.

"w-wait, my clothes—!"

he squeaks as you slap the ample flesh of his ass. he whines, struggling to his knees and leaning back against your chest. you kiss his temple and squeeze his sensitive cock in one hand.

"i hope you don't ruin this skirt," he complains breathily, thrusting into your palm as he tucks his face into your neck. "otherwise, i'm going to be very upset with you, mister."

"well, i bought these clothes, so i can do what i want with them." you snicker. "but yes, there is another pair – don't you worry."

jungkook huffs. "good. now, you gonna fuck me, or what? wanna feel stretched, baby. you gotta fuck my brains out or i'm breaking up with you right here."

you gasp in offence, pushing him gently down and lowering your face to his ass. you smirk as he inhales sharply with realisation and you give his ass a good smack, watching him jerk and grind against air.

"you'd break up with me for that?" you tease. "i wouldn't even be able to make it up to you."

"i guess you better—" his eyes flutter closed and his head drops to the pillows as your tongue drags over his clenching asshole, severely neglected until now. "y-you better do well, then... oh, fuck—!"

suffice to say, when you wake up, you are still jungkook's boyfriend.

#top male reader #x male reader #male reader #dom male reader #bts x male reader #dom reader #top reader #bottom bts #bottom jungkook #jungkook x male reader #kpop x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut

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tasteleeknow · 1 year

Text

HELLO STRANGER. PART THREE.

PAIRING: minho ft. hyunjin x fem!reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au. enemies to lovers. jealousy. pining. unrequited love. CHAPTER CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. mention of violence. minor injuries. blood mention. WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist and taglist ♡ pt.1 | pt.4

It doesn’t take Hyunjin long to catch up to you. Your pace is slow, stumbling over tree roots and rocks as your eyes blur with tears. He moves in front of you, holding your shoulders to catch you just as you stumble again. When you look up at him he pulls you into his arms, practically holding you up on your feet. His chest moves against yours as he sucks in deep breaths, recovering from his chase. You can’t remember the last time someone held you like this, like you could just relax every muscle in your body and trust yourself to them entirely.

“Why does he h-hate me so much?” you sob into his shoulder. “He was meant to love me.”

It’s an embarrassing outburst, the pain finally flowing over the dam walls as your friend holds you tightly. Hyunjin is quiet, letting you wet his t-shirt with tears and lifting you up the few times you attempt to collapse into the dirt. You don’t want to walk back to the carpark and find your way home. You want to collapse into bed. You want to rewind to the day you were matched. You should have known that this wasn’t for you. You wonder if you had known, deep down, if the three weeks of hesitation and procrastination was actually some gut instinct telling you this wasn’t right. When your tears dry up and a dull throb starts pounding behind your eyes, you pull back to rub at them. You wish you had tissues as you sniff and pull the collar of your shirt up to attempt and clean yourself up a little.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur eventually, not wanting to look up at your friend's face—suddenly overwhelmed by the shame of it all.

He says nothing. You glance up to find him looking over your shoulder, a crease between his eyes where his brows pull together. It’s Minho, you know before you turn. He stands a few metres behind you, looking extremely awkward. You consider marching up to him and pushing him into the dirt, like your friend had done to you when you were five and fighting over the swings. It’d be satisfying. Childish, sure, but standing over him as he looks up at you from the ground? The image of it alone is almost enough to tempt you.

Instead you turn back to your friend. “Can we go?” you ask. He keeps his eyes over your shoulder for a moment more before looking at you.

“Yeah, we can leave.”

When you get back to the car you climb into the front seat, alone. “We’ll just be a sec,” Hyunjin had said as the car came into view at the end of the track, handing you the keys. You watch Hyunjin speaking to him, too far away for you to hear anything they are saying. A family with two young children are the only other people around. A screaming boy runs around the empty car park as he waits for his parents to get his sibling ready for their hike. You miss it, being taken care of. When you look back across the carpark Minho has his head lowered, staring at his feet. Then Hyunin shoves him, palms to his chest. It catches Minho completely off guard. He stumbles back. It looks for a moment he might fall over into the dirt but he catches himself. He looks up at his friend in shock. Hyunjin says something and then turns, heading towards you.

It’s all over so fast, you’re still processing it when Hyunjin opens the driver’s door and climbs in. He holds his hand out for the keys silently. Minho stands where he left him, arms hanging limply at his sides. “Are we—?” you start.

“We’re leaving,” he answers, starting the car.

You can’t help turning to watch your soulmate as his best friend drives away, leaving him to find his own way home. It feels like pushing him into the dirt. The swing was yours.

—

“What did he say to you?” Hyunjin asks after a while. You’d noticed him looking into the rear view mirror long after he’d pulled away, like he was still looking for his friend—standing there alone.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.”

Did it matter? It feels like nothing mattered less. You’re drained, so drained it feels like you’ll never care about anything again. You sigh, knowing rationally it’ll pass. You’ll feel normal again.

“He didn’t tell you?” you ask. “I saw you push him.”

You watch his hands as he readjusts them on the wheel. “He wouldn’t say anything,” he mumbles. “Not a word.”

“He… blames me for Sana leaving him.”

Hyunjin frowns, turning to look at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. It wasn’t your fault, you remind yourself. She’d have left him even if you’d never signed up; if you’d never met him he’d be in the exact same situation.

“Did he… change after she died? I mean after what happened to you?” you ask, watching your friend’s expression carefully for any sign of discomfort.

“Minho?” he asks, looking at you briefly to see you nod. His brows furrow, clearly lost in thought for a moment as he watches the road. “He broke it off with her for a bit, just kinda stuck to himself after we got back from Europe…”

After his reaction today you can’t imagine Minho ever wanting to break it off with his ex. But then, he was unpredictable. You felt you were prepared now. You knew to expect anything. To always approach him like he was a cornered animal, ready to strike at any moment.

“He, uh, he was eligible for the program around that time,” Hyunjin continues. “Got the notification and then the next day he went over to her place and I didn’t see him for the whole weekend. Then, that was it. It took me a long time to convince him to sign up.”

It was a multi-step process, being allowed into the program and then being paired with your soulmate. First, you had to wait to be found eligible. It took years to process after you turned eighteen, then it could be years after that before your soulmate was found. Most people didn’t wait time hesitating like you both had.

“He… found out he was eligible… to find me… and then he went back to her?”

“Yeah.”

You scoff, turning from Hyunjin to look out the window. “Of course he did.”

—

“More?” you ask, holding a bowl of huge strawberries out to Hyunjin. He says nothing, gazing out the window at the heavy rain. He’d been spending more time at your place since the hike. Mina was on her honeymoon and you had the place to yourself. It was nice to have his company.

“Jinnie?” you prompt.

He turns. “Huh?”

You hold the bowl up to him. He takes one, wrapping his lips around the juicy berries and offering you a smile when he finishes chewing. “They’re nice.”

“Mm. I got up early to get them.”

He nods, turning back to the window with no further comment. You sigh, placing the bowl gently on the table. He hadn’t been himself in the past few weeks. Sure, he had his bad days usually but he hardly had good ones recently. You can’t help feeling at fault. It couldn’t be a coincidence. It was the fight you’d had with Minho that had triggered it, you were sure of it.

“Do you want to come for a walk?”

“In the rain?” he questions.

You nod, smiling. “I have umbrellas.”

He looks back at the heavy rain, then to you. “Alright.”

It’s a brief walk to the nearby park, the heavy rain against your umbrellas preventing any real conversation between you. A small gazebo in the centre offers you shelter finally, allowing you to drop your arm. It had started aching a little.

“Doesn’t it smell nice?” you comment, turning to find Hyunin sitting on the small bench that lined the shelter.

“The rain?”

“Mm, ya know it pulls the pollution out of the air? That’s why it smells so clean,” you suck in a deep breath. “It literally is.”

Hyunjin stands, joining you at the edge of the gazebo. He sticks his hand out into the rain, watching the droplets bounce off his palm. “Do you like the rain?” he asks.

“Love it. I wish it rained everyday.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I think you’d change your mind if it did.”

You shrug. “Maybe.” He’s quiet next to you, palm still held out in front of him. “Do you like it?” you ask.

He hums. “It’s alright.”

Alright? The rain was one of the things that made you happiest in the world. You couldn’t accept ‘alright’. You grab his hand, pulling him out into the downpour before he can react. He attempts to pull back once he realises what’s happening, instinctively seeking shelter. “What are you doing?” he shouts. “You’re getting drenched.”

“So?” you laugh. “It’s cleaning us.”

When you refuse to let go of his hand he gives up, accepting his fate. He reaches up with his free hand to push his wet hair off his forehead. “Ya know, I think showers do that just fine.”

“Showers don’t smell like this,” you argue, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. Hyunjin’s hand is warm in yours and when you open your eyes he’s copying you, head tilted back to let the rain fall onto his face.

You smile, watching him. A droplet of water rolls down his neck and you reach up to wipe it off. You’re not sure why. It makes no difference, both of you soaked through.

He looks at you after a moment. “You’re right,” he says. Then he grins, blinking the rain from his eyes. “It’s nice.”

—

Mina moves out the week after she gets back from her honeymoon.

“Are you sure you won’t move in with us for a little while?”

“I told you, I have a place. I’m fine, really.”

You didn't have a place, you had a hotel room. But she was happy. She was starting her life with the person she loved most in the world. You could survive living in a hotel room for a while so she could have her happiness without you getting in the way. She’d insisted on living with you until now because she knew you couldn’t afford the place alone. You’d held her back long enough.

The hotel is closer to your work. It’s the only positive thing about it. You’d avoided telling Hyunjin as long as possible but he’d made it a habit over the past few weeks to spend time at your place. He’d asked what was going on once you’d turned him down one too many times.

“We can get a place together,” he says now.

“And leave Minho?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively. “He’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be fine, too. Don’t worry about me.”

“You can’t just make someone care for you and then say don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He grabs your wrist, halting you. “Just… think about it, yeah? If you don’t want to live with me permanently you can come stay with me until you find a place.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to live with you, Jinnie. I’ve disrupted your life enough, I’m not separating you both completely.”

He frowns. “Disrupted? Only in the best way.”

You smile, swinging his arm back and forth. “I do have a favour to ask.”

“Mm?”

“I can’t take Luna. I’ve been sneaking her in but I don’t feel good about leaving her while I’m at work.”

“We can take her. Minho’s cats are friendly.”

“You think he’ll… I mean I don’t…”

“He’ll be happy about it.”

“Even though he hates me?”

He frowns, lips pressed together. You regret the words instantly.

“Just ask him for me, yeah? Don’t pressure him. And don’t tell him why, please? Just…tell him I'm somewhere temporary where I can't take her. He doesn’t need to know anything else.”

“Alright.”

—

It’s a month later when a knock at your door distracts you from the book you’re reading. When you open the hotel door to find your soulmate standing on the other side, your first instinct is to drop your jaw and huff out a disbelieving laugh. The second is to slam the door in his face. Unfortunately, he catches it—palm pressed flat to the wood.

“Please,” he says. “Just…give me a chance to speak.” The next words from his mouth make you both more angry and simultaneously convince you to let him in. “For Hyunjin’s sake.”

You stand aside with a sigh, letting him into the small room you’d occupied for the past two months. When you shut the door and turn, he’s standing awkwardly by the bed—surrounded by boxes of your belongings.

“How’d you find me?” you ask.

“I uh…asked Mina,” he says, distracted by the sight of the messy room. “Hyunjin gave me her number.”

“Did he tell you to come here? To apologise to me?”

He frowns, looking at you again. "No. He doesn't know I'm here."

"If I ask him the same thing he'll agree?"

"I'm not a liar,” he says, offended.

"I don't know you. You might be."

He sighs. "Look I just... I know what I said was cruel—"

"You called me an infection and blamed me for your breakup."

He winces. "I was angry at her... for choosing them. Her..." he trails off, unable to say the word.

"Soulmate," you finish for him, sick of his fear of the word.

"Yeah. I was angry at her for it and you were the...closest thing to it. To all of it. I know.... it's not your fault. You didn't deserve it."

"No, I didn't."

"I'm sorry."

You nod, not sure what to say. You didn't forgive him. You didn't like him at all. He was angry and cruel and he'd hurt you more than anyone else you'd known in the short time you'd known him.

“You’re here for Hyunjin?” you ask after a moment of heavy silence.

He nods. “Have you… noticed… I mean has he been a little different recently?”

You take a step back towards the bed, collapsing onto the edge of the mattress. “He’s had more bad days.”

Minho nods, rocking back and forth on his heels a little. “He’s better after being with you. He gets home and he’s… brighter than when he left.”

You can’t help warming a little at the thought. You weren’t close to many people, weren’t used to being valuable to anyone like that.

“He hasn’t talked about what’s bothering him?” you ask.

“We haven’t been talking a lot.”

“If you came here to ask me to tell you what’s bothering him, I don’t know. I wouldn’t tell you if I did. You should talk to him about it.”

He reaches up to hold the back of his neck, failing to look you in the eyes. “I didn’t… that’s not why I’m here,” he mutters, barely loud enough for you to make out. “You…need a place to live.”

“Obviously.”

He looks up at you now, a little desperation in his eyes catching you off guard. “He’s happier with you. If you…moved in he’d be happier.”

You huff out a disbelieving laugh. He’d called you an infection. Compared you to a fly, buzzing around his life and the people he cared about. “I’m not living with you.”

He takes a step towards you. “I’ll leave. I’ll find somewhere else.”

“You called me an infection.”

“Please…” he begs. “I don’t know how to help him. He… needs you. I’m—I’m making him unhappy.”

“I think we’re doing that together,” you mumble.

He says nothing.

You sigh. “I can’t kick you out. Whether you believe it or not right now, I know he needs you.”

“I’ll stay. You can move in. I won’t bother you. You’ll hardly see me. Luna is happy. The four of them get along,” he’s speaking rapidly now, the desperation dripping from his tone.

“If only we took after them,” you smile sadly.

He takes a step back before collapsing into the one chair in the room. “Do you really…believe in that whole thing?” he asks, waving his hand in the air.

“Soulmates. It won’t hurt you to say it.”

“Soulmates. You believe it's real?”

You shrug. “Maybe not for everyone.”

He stands abruptly, bumping into one of the boxes as he backs up towards the door. “Right, well… You’ll think about what I asked?”

“Yeah.”

He pauses in the doorway, holding the door open and looking back at you. “You can come visit Luna, whenever.”

“Thank you.”

He nods, then he’s gone. It takes you the rest of the day to process the interaction let alone consider what he’d asked. It’s not exactly how you’d imagined moving in with your soulmate. But Hyunjin made you happy. He was the person you were most comfortable with now that Mina was starting her own life. If Minho was right, and you really did make him happy too. It would be nice to live with him. Minho? He would be an unavoidable pain. Would seeing you both have your inevitable conflict do Hyunjin more harm than your presence would do good? It was a lot to consider.

When you see Hyunjin for dinner it doesn’t take him long to notice your heavy shoulders and short responses. He puts it down to your living situation until you mention Minho had dropped by.

“He what?”

“You didn’t send him?” you ask.

“No. Did he apologise?”

“He asked me to move in.”

Hyunjin bursts into laughter, throwing his head back and nearly tipping in his chair. You lead forward to grab his arm, worried about him falling backwards. You’re unable to keep your own laugh back at his reaction.

“What?” you question through your laughter. “Stop it.”

“He… called you an infection and then dropped by to ask you to be his roommate?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how it went.”

He chuckles again, rubbing his eyes and then taking a sip of his iced coffee.

“So… I’m taking that as a no,” you say.

He chokes, dropping his cup back on the table and smacking his chest. “You’re considering it?” he chokes out between coughs.

“I don’t have a lot of options… and spending everyday with you is a hard offer to refuse.”

“Careful,” he smiles. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

You sigh, propping your chin in your palm and gazing at him longingly. “Too late.”

He sighs dramatically. “This face is my biggest burden.”

“Are you sure it’s not your grinch of a roommate?”

He smiles. “He’s a close second.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, sobering a little as the heaviness of the conversation returns. “If you think you’ll be okay—living with him—I'd be happy to have you. You know that.”

“I… don’t know if I will,” you sigh. “He was polite enough. But he feels like… a stranger every time I've spoken to him. He’s either dismissive or distant or cruel. I don’t know what to expect from him.”

He nods, looking a little dejected.

“I’ll try it,” you sigh. “I don’t have much to lose at this point.”

“I’ll leave him on the mountain again if he hurts you.”

You smile. “We could get a lock for his door. Locks from the outside only.”

“Or that,” he laughs. “When can you move in?”

You shrug. “Tomorrow?”

—

Being startled awake by a knock at your door in the very late hours of the night is unsettling at the best of times, but when you’re alone in a crappy hotel? You find yourself backing into the corner, scanning the crowded room for anything that might be used as a weapon. Then they’re knocking again. They can’t get in, you reason with yourself. Just… walk over and use the peephole. You don’t move until whoever it is knocks for a third time. When you bump one of the boxes and a large pot falls out and hits the ground, the thin hotel carpet does nothing to muffle the noise. You freeze.

“It’s me,” comes a voice from the other side of the door.

Minho. Your eyes flick to the bedside table where a red 2:22 glows from the cheap clock. What the fuck was he doing here in the middle of the night?

You march across the room, fear switching rapidly to irritation. When you swing the door open, you’re mouth is open—ready to ask what the fuck he was doing here. Instead, you freeze—taking in the sight of him.

“What the fuck did you do?” you breathe.

He scowls. “I didn’t do anything.”

You’re tempted to slam the door in his face. Scowling at you after showing up at your hotel room at 2am? Hyunjin loves this guy, you remind yourself. You should help him, for Hyunjin. You cross your arms, waiting for him to speak. You weren’t going to waste breath attempting to pull an explanation from him.

His sour expression drops from his face when he realises you aren’t going to speak until he does. “I shoved some guy and he had a lot more friends than I thought, that’s all.”

Your eyes trace over his face, the split lip, the dried trail of blood from his hairline down the left side of his forehead. “So you did do something,” you say. “You shoved someone.”

“Can I come in?”

“Go home.”

He looks to his left and the expression that crosses his face sends a small shiver down your spine. He looks haunted, like you could peek around the doorframe and find he’s watching a ghostly figure approach him from the other end of the long hallway. He’s quiet, contemplating his options—you assume.

“I don’t have my key. I’d have to wake Hyunjin.”

“So… you decided you’d rather wake me?”

He nods.

You aren’t sure how to interpret that. He cared less about you losing sleep? He cared less about what you thought? Either way, it didn’t feel good. Still, taking him in would mean Hyunjin wouldn’t have to deal with him. You sigh, stepping aside.

He steps in so quickly you’re almost tempted to check if there really is something down the hallway. You close the door after him instead, sliding the security chain across for good measure. When you turn he’s already made his way into the tiny bathroom and closed the door. “Not even a thanks,”, you grumble as you plod back to bed—scooping up the large pot on your way. A potential weapon, you note. You place it gently beside the bed, in case someone who wasn’t your grouchy soulmate decides to make a late night appearance.

You don’t pull the covers over you, a little unsettled by Minho’s presence. You didn’t feel unsafe around him, just guarded. He’s a snake that could emotionally strike at any time. You have to be prepared from now on, you remind yourself.

When the sound of the water running finally stops, you expect him to emerge. He doesn’t. You climb out of bed and take a few steps to the bathroom door. “Do you need anything?” you ask, hand hovering over the doorknob.

The door swings open.

“Do you have any…any band aids? They won’t stop bleeding,” he says, holding his bloody knuckles up.

You snatch his wrists and take a step towards him, forcing him back into the bathroom. The fluorescent lights let you get a look at the extent of his injuries for the first time. He looks like he’s been attacked… and fought back… and lost.

“What the fuck happened?” you mutter, taking in the scrapes and cuts littering his body. His eyes flick between yours and then he tugs his wrists free from your grasp.

“There were more of them than I thought.”

“Yeah, you said that. Why did you shove someone?”

He rolls his eyes, like you were being the irritating one in this scenario. “Bandaids?” he asks again, turning to shove his bleeding knuckles under the tap.

You shake your head, watching him scrub at his skin like it wasn’t actively raw and bleeding. “Mina took the first aid kit. I tried… to pack light,” you finish as you snatch his wrist again, stopping his clumsy attempt at cleaning his wounds. “Would you stop that,” you snap. “You’re making them worse.”

He doesn’t look up at you, eyes fixed on the bloody water dripping from his skin into the sink. “He’ll ask me what happened. He won’t stop asking until I tell him,” he says suddenly, a hint of panic in his tone.

You have no idea how to approach whatever is happening right now. You don’t know him. He’s the most unpredictable, confusing person you’ve ever met in your life and now he’s in your bathroom, bleeding into your sink… and looking extremely vulnerable. It feels like a scale is tipping back and forth in your head. Help him; help the person Hyunjin cares about most in the world, or protect yourself. Back off and let him deal with whatever this was alone before he says something to hurt you—like he always did.

“What happened?” you ask reluctantly, keeping your grip on his wrist. Moving at all felt perilous.

“Her brother. I haven’t seen him since… since he told Hyunjin to stay the fuck out of his life. That’s what sent him over the fucking edge again. He… got so fixated on this soulmate shit afterwards. On me finding you… it—it was so fucking cruel. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t even know what was happening until I was on top of him.”

You're not sure what to process first. Who’s brother? Was his anger all still related to being forced to meet you? Or for his hurt friend? Both? The irony of him calling someone cruel for doing something that reminded you very much of what he’d done to you only weeks ago. Before you can ask for any clarification he’s speaking again. He speaks like you aren’t there, or like it doesn’t matter who you are at all. A passive audience.

“He was just getting better…we’d just gotten back…”

“Who’s brother?”

He looks up into the mirror, making eye contact with you. “His soulmate,” he says, the word slipping from his lips easily for the first time since you’d met. “Aera. Her brother was the only connection he fucking had to her and he hurt him so badly I—”

You watch as he closes his fist, his arm shaking a little in your grasp as he squeezes tightly. You lift his fist up so you can attempt to pry his fingers up. “Stop it,” you scold. He relaxes instantly. You reach for the tap and turn the water off before pushing Minho back towards the closed toilet lid. It only takes a small shove for him to collapse onto it, knees buckling under him. “Just, calm down while I deal with this, yeah?”

He nods, eyes downcast. He’s quiet as you collect your pot from the side of the bed and the salt from your small box of cooking supplies. When you return to the bathroom, he hasn't moved. When you leave to collect your kettle, he still doesn’t move. When you fill your kettle and leave to set it boiling, you return to find him in the same position, still. “Why’d you come here?” you ask, looking at him through the mirror. He’s slouched behind you, eyes still fixed on his raw knuckles. “You don’t have anyone else to bother?”

He shakes his head. It’s hard not to feel bad for him, to pity him. Pitiful was exactly how he looked at this moment, sitting on the toilet lid in your shitty roadside hotel at three in the morning—bloody and sad. He’d been polite earlier, when he’d asked you to move in. Still, you couldn't trust him. You didn’t know him and he was unpredictable. He’d hurt you.

You sigh as you lift yourself onto the bathroom bench, legs swinging over the edge. “You’re lucky, both of you. You… clearly love each other. Some people don’t have anyone like that, to worry about them the way you both do.”

He looks up at you. It takes everything in you to not display any reaction to the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“His soulmate died,” he says slowly. “Lucky?”

“I’m just saying you both have someone who loves you more than anything. It’s a good thing. You are both always so… sad about it. He’s always worrying about you and… being sad. You’re here all.. sad because you love him so much. It should be a joyful thing: love. ”

You think you’re prepared for anything. Cruelty. Dismissiveness. Anger. You’re not prepared for him to smile, his split lip reopening.

“What?” you question.

He shakes his head, huffing out a breath of laughter and dropping his gaze to the floor again. He mutters something to himself, something you can’t make out. Then he looks up at you. “You don’t think you’re the lucky one? You have nothing to lose. Nothing to… fear losing.”

You frown. “Having something to lose means you have something you value. I’d rather… risk losing something valuable than never having it at all.” It seemed so obvious to you. Why the fuck would it be better to have nothing to lose. That was always when people were at their lowest. Collecting things and people that matter to you, wasn’t that the entire point of it all?

His brows draw together a little as he studies you, eyes flicking across your face like there’s something worth analysing. The kettle flicks off, signalling the water has boiled. You jump off the bench, happy to escape his scrutinising gaze. It’s odd, what this hour of the night did to people: how it made them vulnerable and open, like nothing was quite real in the same way, like you’d both wake up the next day and pretend it was all a dream. 3am wasn’t real. You hesitate before re-entering the bathroom, taking a second to remind yourself that it was real, that you had to be careful.

He’s quiet when you enter and begin pouring the hot water into the pot. “What are you doing with that?” he asks, clearly nervous.

“I’m improvising something to clean you up with, so you don’t get any infection. Boiling water then adding salt: homemade saline.”

“But you’re letting it cool first, right?” he asks. You chuckle at the fear in his voice.

“Yes, it’ll cool faster in the pot.”

He’s quiet again, apparently satisfied. You watch him in the mirror, only briefly—before he notices. He hasn’t wiped away his tear stained cheeks. You wonder if it would be odd for you to do it for him as you clean his cuts. Perhaps you could do it subtly, make it seem like you’re working on his wounds.

“How’d you know to make that?” he asks.

“Luna had an infected cut a few months ago, the vet explained how to keep it clean.”

“So I'm getting veterinary medical care.”

You turn to face him. “You showed up at the cheapest hotel in town in the middle of the night and now you’re being fussy about the medical care on offer?”

“No.”

“It’ll take around 15,” you say, gesturing to the cooling water. “I have UNO?” you offer, feeling a little dumb the moment the words leave your lips.

He laughs softly before standing. “Alright. I have to make up for my loss.”

He doesn't. He loses three times by the time the water has cooled. Okay, so your soulmate was bad at card games. Another puzzle piece you could add to the picture you were gradually forming of him in your mind. He sits on the bathroom bench as you prepare the water, stirring the salt into the pot as he swings his legs. You realise, in the silence, that this might be the longest you’ve gone without verbally colliding since the day you first met. 3am, it did strange things to people.

You set the pot beside him and move between his spread legs, careful not to brush against his thighs at all. His hands are the best place to start, you don’t have to look at him. You’d dug out a clean cotton shirt from your laundry to use as a cloth. After soaking it in your improvised saline, you begin working to gently dab and wipe at his knuckles. He doesn’t wince or pull away, just sits quietly—perfectly still. It reminds you a little of how he’d come across the day you’d met. He’d seemed calm and collected; sure of himself. You’d felt ridiculous in comparison, practically vibrating with nerves.

“Do you ever get anxious?” you ask, emboldened by the 3am atmosphere.

“What?”

“Anxious… ya know, nervous, scared.”

“I know what anxious means,” he grumbles. You don’t dignify it with a response.

He’s quiet and you assume he’s simply dropped the topic, uncomfortable with your line of questioning. Fair enough, you were practically strangers.

“Yes,” he says finally. “All the time.”

You look up from his hands, satisfied with your work. “You do?’ you ask, beginning work on his face with a clean side of the fabric. His lashes are long and thick, framing his deep brown eyes in a way yours don’t without layers of mascara. You’d thought he was pretty, when you’d first walked into that room all those months ago. You remember thinking he was too pretty for you. You can see it again now, when he’s not spitting cruel words at you.

“You don’t?” he asks in return.

You huff out a breathy laugh. “You don’t remember me shaking the day we met?”

“Anyone would be nervous when they’re meeting their…” he trails off, predictably.

“Soulmate,” you finish.

“Yeah.”

“Were you?”

He frowns, electing not to answer. You find you don’t have anything to say to that, so you focus on your task—ensuring each cut and scrape is cleaned as best you can without hurting him. Neither of you say much after that, silently moving from the bathroom once you’re finished and finding yourselves faced with a dilemma. 3:41 the alarm clock reads, too early to start your day.

“I can sleep in my car,” Minho says, breaking the silence.

You should agree, lead him out the door and bid him goodnight. But you’d just spent the last 40 minutes painstakingly cleaning the man up. He felt like your project now. Then his haunted face flashes through your mind, the one he’d made as he’d looked down the empty hallway before you’d let him in.

“It’s fine. Just, stay on top of the covers,” you sigh, climbing into the bed. “It’s not a big deal.”

He stands there awkwardly, bloody and bruised.

“Now,” you snap. “I’m tired.”

He moves quickly, crawling onto the bed and lying down as far from you as he possibly can without falling off the edge.

“I might get blood on the sheets,” he says once you’ve turned the lamp off.

“They probably already have some. You don’t wanna know how little I paid for this place.”

“Did you decide? About moving?” he asks.

You nod before realising he can’t see you. “Mm, spoke to Hyunjin about moving in tomorrow.”

He doesn’t say anything in response. It feels odd, lying here in the dark with him. Dangerous. You feel things bubbling to the surface, things you know you shouldn’t say.

“Was he happy?” he whispers after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“About you moving in.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean… I think so.”

He’s quiet again. You roll over and close your eyes. Not how you’d imagined sharing a bed with your soulmate for the first time.

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

Fever Dream

➪the one where you and hayden celebrate his birthday.

Warnings: fluff, domestic af, hayden being adorable

Happy 42nd birthday to the man himself <3

Word Count: 1.2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

The light from the sun lit up the room, the recently opened curtains doing nothing to keep the heat or brightness out.

That wasn’t what woke him up, though.

Oh, no. The sudden weight on Hayden’s waist was what did that.

His eyes opened and instantly landed on you, the grin you wore making a smile form on his lips that he had no control over. His hand reaches out and runs over the skin of your thigh, his fingers lazily drawing various shapes as he gazes up at you. “Good morning,” you say cheerfully, looking down at the ring that hadn’t left his finger since the day you slid it on there. It was a match to one of the two on your own finger, with the exception of his band being a little wider than yours.

“Morning, baby,” he mumbles back, rubbing his eye with his free hand and looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It read 9:23 in the morning and Hayden was surprised you were up before him as you were usually not a morning person whatsoever. “You’re up early.”

You nod and watch as he turns back around to face you, pushing the comforter down a bit and exposing his bare chest.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked with a small smirk, already knowing the answer.

“Only the most important day of the year,” you answer, placing your palms flat against his chest, your fingers gently digging into the defined lines. “The one day I can spoil you without having to hear you complain about it.”

Hayden hummed, wrapping his hands around your wrists and giving them a sharp tug that had you falling against him. Your chest pressed to his as his hands moved to your waist, keeping you close to him with a lazy grin on his face. “I’m still going to complain about it,”

His hair was messy, his eyes half open and his face glowing from getting a decent amount of sleep. He looked perfect. He looked damn near edible.

Your eyes flicker over every freckle that littered his face before landing on his lips, the same ones you kissed for hours on end last night. Lifting yourself higher on him, you press a chaste kiss to his mouth before pulling away all together and straddling his hips once again.

He pouted at the short lived kiss, making you place one hand over his mouth when he tried to lean up and connect your lips once more. Keeping your hand pressed against him, you reach behind you with your other and grab the gift bag you bought earlier in the week.

You squeal in surprise when you feel his tongue stick out and lick a stripe up your palm, quickly pulling your hand away with a look of fake disgust on your face. “Ew, gross,” you laugh quietly, wiping your hand on his shirt that you stole the night before.

You never thought you’d be one of those girls who wore their boyfriends clothing, but here you were. Hayden owned so many t-shirts, all so different from each other, it was hard to resist slipping one over your head every once in a while. Plus, they smelled like him - a smell that became your favorite scent in the world.

He didn’t seem to mind, either, as his pupils grew every time he saw one of his shirts cascading down your body. They were always so big on you, something that brought out a possessive side to him that he didn’t even know he had until he met you.

You place the bag on his chest with a smile on your lips. “Happy birthday!”

Hayden grins up at you, his eyes squinting slightly due to the sunlight. “Thank you,” he carelessly pulled away the blue tissue paper you so carefully tucked away in the bag and grabbed the glass mug from inside. He shook his head as he looked at it, reading the cheesy pun that was printed on both sides of it.

“Now you have another one to have on display since you refuse to actually use them,” you tease, laughing when he rolled his eyes.

“I’m saving them for retirement,” came his reply, one you’ve heard countless times now. “And I don’t want to accidentally break one.”

“Well, lucky for you,” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders and making the shirt fall off a bit, exposing your bare shoulder to the chilled air of the room. “To accidentally break one, you’d actually have to use it first.”

Hayden took one hand off the mug and gave the side of your thigh a gentle slap, making you jolt forward in surprise. Your mouth shut as he set the item aside and reached in for the second object, pulling out a chain with a clasp on the end of it.

“Open it,” you encourage quietly, watching with a nervous smile as he did as you said. Inside the clasp was a small picture of the two of you on your wedding day, your smiles as wide as ever as he held onto you from behind. You bit down on your thumb as his smile grew, his eyes never leaving the picture. “That’s my favorite picture from that day.”

It just so happened to be the one you never got printed into a bigger version to hang on the wall amongst the others. You didn’t see the point of putting a picture he already saw everyday in the clasp and instead remembered that this specific one was pretty much one of a kind.

“Do you like it?” You ask once you realized he hadn’t said anything.

His blue eyes meet yours and he nods, the small smile never leaving his lips. “I love it,”

You sigh in relief and reach out to hold the chain in between your fingers. “I was thinking you could attach it to your keychain, or wherever, really. It’s totally up to you. Maybe you want to just keep it in your drawer or something,”

Hayden silenced your rambling by leaning up and pressing his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up. He pulled away slowly, his eyes opening and staring into yours. “Thank you, baby,”

The way he murmured the pet name had your heart beating rapidly in your chest and heat flooding your body. Before things could get too heated, you pulled away and swung your legs off the bed. “You’re welcome. Now, come on, I have our whole day planned-”

You were cut off by your own squeal as Hayden dropped the chain onto the sheets and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you back and nearly tossing you beside him on the bed.

Your head hit the soft comforter when you landed, his arms tightening around you as he moved to hover over you. The sheets fell from his body and pooled around his legs as he placed multiple open mouthed kisses on your neck. “We’re going to be late for breakfast,” you say through laughs, titling your head just slightly as he trailed his lips up to your jaw.

Hayden hummed, running his nose over your cheekbone, his hooded eyes meeting yours. “I’m sure whatever you had planned for breakfast would’ve been amazing,” he trailed off, grabbing your hands in his and pinning them above your head. His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, a cloud of lust quickly forming in the blue orbs. “But I’d rather have something else.”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen icons #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #clay beresford

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ant0nsfirstluv · 6 months

Text

Riize Romantic Headcanons (2)

A/N: part twooo of my last posts + expanding on certain headcanons ♾️

Warnings: None

More under the cut

Shotaro:

lovesss to hype you, if you ever posted on insta he’d comment so much, repost it on his personal story, text you about how pretty you looked

he’d shamelessly compliment you so often, literally he’d see you for the first time in the day and would just shower you in so much praise and affection

always. taking. photos of you just for him to look at while he’s away or just because you look so goodt

Sends you video clips of him dancing and gets all smiley when you compliment him even though he knowsss he did good

holds you on his back especially if you two have been walking for a while and want to take a break

aggressively supportive !!! literally cheers you on no matter what interest or hobby you decide to take on

Thanks you allll the time and gives you a small kiss each time he does, you could literally just hand him a tissue and he’d be “thank youu 😙”

The least conflicts could ever happen with him tbsh, even if there was a disagreement between you two he’s level headed enough to where you two will somehow someway find a solution

Eunseok:

doesn’t have a specific nickname for you because he’ll just call you his “little [insert random thing]” or “my [insert random thing]

I like to think he’d call you his flower but that’s just me 🌚 leave it up to your imagination

messes with your hair often, sometimes he’ll literally just wordlessly play with it until you snap him back into reality

verrry sudden compliments, out of nowhere he’ll drop the most sweet blush inducing compliment ever and then go back to being stone or messing with you 😭

randomly appears at your house without saying anything, you’d literally be walking around your home and he would just walk in like “hey 🙋”

you two will be in the same place and he’ll still text/facetime you instead of just walking to where you are to tell/show you what he needs to say

he loves staying in with you even if you two do practically nothing he’d be fine with you on his lap while watching tv and snacking

protective but in a very calm sense. helps you avoid things he knows you’re particularly uncomfy with or just borderline keeps you out of harms way by being right by you

Sungchan:

has soft launched you two like 5 million times everybody knows you two are together atp he is NOT slick bro 😭

as I said in the last post he loves kissing your face and I feel like he’d wake you up by giving you some kisses on your cheek while whispering your name

eating together is a must he will literally just text and ask to eat together at your fave restaurant just because and let’s you order wtv you want

has his hands on you in someee type of way literally he finds a way or reason to touch you no matter what he just can’t keep his hands to himself ☹️

would buy matching or similar gym wear for you two if you ever do or want to come to the gym with him, ugh the matching sets would be SO CUTE

will literally have you sit on his back while he does push-ups or see how many times he can squat while holding you

alwaysss reminiscing about moments between you two throughout the relationship the amount of cute convos that happened because of him starting with “babe do you remember when…”

loves being praised by you like your compliments literally make his whole entire day PLEASE DO ! send him sweet motivational goodmorning texts

Wonbin:

let’s keep it real for a moment…he would most definitely call you his pretty girl

has his moments of just staring/adoring you, whether you two are on opposite sides of the room or if he’s right by you while you’re doing something

if you guys don’t know, wonbin has mentioned that he has a habit of doing things 7 times in a row, so ofc in my mind,, he probably kisses you 7 times before you leave his place :( or before you gts

there’s been so many times where he’d be hanging out with the members and will just DISAPPEAR as soon as you ask to hang out, the members will ask where he went and he’s already at your house 😭

if someone made you even slightly visibly uncomfortable or upset he would glare at them until they went/looked away

if a girl tried getting his number or something he’d probably blankly look at them for a good…3 seconds and then just “no 🫤”

no matter where you’re laying down he’ll curl up right next to you or on top of you and he lovesss taking a nap with you

absolutely geeks when you two accidentally match or wear similar outfits he will find out what you’re gonna wear just so he can secretly wear the same thing 🌚

would paint a nail with your initial 🌚 but would get sooo shy when anybody outside of the members asked what the letter meant LOL

Seunghan:

you could be wearing… a plastic bag…and he’ll still be like “you’re so beautiful” like man hello

touching your face is a habit of his, he’ll literally be smiling down at you while stroking your cheek and jawline with his thumb and pointer

whenever you sit on his lap while he’s gaming whenever he has a free hand he’ll take advantage of it to stroke your back or squish your face for a kiss

loves to hear your voice..will call you literally just to hear it you don’t even have to be directly talking to him as long as he can hear you

you’ll be sitting down with the members and he’ll get a tiny bit jealous once you laugh at eunseoks joke a little too hard and he’ll run by, pick you up and run off with you

helps you with your hair whenever you’re struggling with it, as long as you guide him and give him instructions he’ll try his best !!!

I’m sorry but if you ever were irritated or grumpy and accidentally let it slip while with him he’d grab your face and kiss you to shush you 😭

he eats up whenever you’re shy he relishes in it so much he can’t help but want to watch you look away because you can’t keep eye contact

wouldn’t let you be insecure in the slightest you could literally have just woken up lips dry face puffy and he’ll still make you feel so pretty

Sohee:

likes to cuddle with him laying back and you on top of him resting your head in the crook of his neck while he draws patters into your back :(

whenever he tells you goodmorning he always gives you a hug with a good squeeeeze and a quick kiss on your nose or cheek

trust he likes to be babied and spoiled but sometimes he wants to be the gentleman for you too like let him take care of you and nurture you okayyy 💔

sohee’s cute demeanor can make him seem like he’d be shy which could be the case but I can see him being bold or more straightforward when it comes to his affections towards you

like he’ll ask YOU out, he’ll ask if he could kiss you for the first time, he’ll hug you, hold your hand, and ask you on a date first

gloats about you to everyone, the members included, as soon as you post yourself on your story he’s quick to say “ugh my gf is so pretty guys look look look” while mushing his phone in their faces

he is soooo sweet and truly so lovely..but sometimes…you will be a victim of the sassy man apocalypse while you’re with him I’m sorry LMFAOO

like if you forgot to text him before you got back home or if you fell asleep forgetting to call him before you did he’d be so quick to text you “I see how it is 🙄”

or he’d avoid kissing you but as soon as you give up trying to kiss him he’d be SO quick to switch up wanting a kiss IMMEDIATELY begging you for one

Anton:

he would most definitely see cute pics of two animals like some ducks or rabbits snuggling together and will text it to you and be like “us”

hugs from behinddd allll the timeeee even if you two are just standing there he’ll hold onto you from behind and rest his head on your shoulder

pretends to bite you, especially on your shoulder but if he ever did accidentally actually bite you he’d make it up by putting a small peck wherever he did it

kisses your hand and down your forearm because he just likes to tbsh

has you do the most foolish tiktoks with him and yes you guys will have like 300 drafts and yes he makes you two do like 12 takes 😭😭

particular compliments, will call you gorgeous overall but has moments where he tells you a certain color makes you look radiant or when your hair looks extra good

spoils you to oblivion, you have a wishlist frm your fave clothing brand you say 🤔 BOUGHT, he sees some cute matching couple necklaces..SOLD ! you lost your favorite makeup brushes ? HERES SOME NEW ONES !

whenever he flirts and starts getting bold he’ll fold so quick like he’ll build up his courage to be super straight forward but will literally crumble and be a tad bit embarrassed later especially if you repeat what he said LMFAOO

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