#so the vibrancy is all the way up!

[notmoreflippingelves]

#elena of avalor #beauty and the beast #batbedit #disneyedit #eoa edit #belle x beast #estebalena #kinda but also not kinda #I think a lot about the fact that it's been confirmed that this is an intentional homage #like EoA series supervising director Elliot M. Bour was just like casually bringing BATB into things as an Easter egg #since it was his first job in animation #and like don't get me wrong; I LOVE that he did this. I just don't know how he expected anyone (i.e. me) to be normal about it afterwards #once you've introduced BATB; it ceases to be a fun and casual reference and just makes the literature major girlies go feral #i thought this was gonna be a quick and easy little project but it wasn't #the parallels are all there but they're in slightly different order in EoA than the original and the pacing for each reference is differen #so i had to determine which ones I needed to skip frames for and which ones to use all the frames #and then try to figure out the speed from there #the coronation day scenes were very hard to color because the grey skies and muted filter kind of whitewash the characters #like you don't even understand i added so MUCH vibrance and saturation to the 4th and 5th gifs but elena's skin still is just gray #and the coloring is still just a very very mixed bag #also i've realized that while I don't think it was an intentional reference in the same way BATB was #anna's sacrifice and resurrection from frozen is perhaps just as --if not more-- a clear parallel to the coronation day scene than BATB #so maybe I will do that one someday too? #once i psych myself up again to try coloring coronation day again #which i imagine will be awhile #these do not look like the same scene and pretty much the same scene at all even if i tried to use the same psd when i could #and edit them to make the coloring as close as i could

[francesderwent]

I don’t know, friends, I’m just having one of those days where I stop second-guessing myself for five seconds together and remember that I do know what it feels like to be in love. it wasn’t something I made up in my head, because I was there. and I’m not rejecting as-good-as-it-gets in favor of holding out for the impossible and imaginary, because it gets a whole lot better than what I’ve been getting lately! I know that. and this is not an encouraging thought at all, it’s making me absolutely furious, because what’s the point of knowing how good you can have it if you’re never going to have it for real

#in which cate tells stories #life is SO LONG and you grow up and memories fade #and you start to think ‘I’m a practical person. I know this is all there is.’ #the verses of that’s the way I love you become pretty convincing #it IS like I couldn’t ask for anything better!! #but then something reminds you and it throws you back into the vibrancy of the world #and then all of that is just so obviously a lie!!! #love is not a small thing!! #love WILL NOT betray you dismay or enslave you!!!! #I REMEMBER that. I DO. it wasn’t made up #I wish it was!!!!! #I wish I could look back and say ‘it felt big and beautiful at the time but in retrospect I can see objectively it was just infatuation’ #‘it felt romantic and breathtaking but objectively you were just young’ #then maybe I would have a shot at settling for something in a whole other category #just not even comparing anymore #but damn it. damn it all. it wasn’t NOT love you know????? #and I CAN actually ask for better and I will KEEP asking for better #and I will keep not fucking getting it probably

[headspace-hotel]

I agree with the idea that a lot of humans nowadays have a severe lack of curiosity about the world, but I think there has to be a solution other than shame.

I think about this every day because the fate of our world hangs on curiosity: either we will rediscover the importance and wonders of the soil and bugs and flowers and water and finally with the whole natural world, or this way will be forgotten.

People raised in the great wasteland of the suburbs and roads and buildings have never seen most of the plants and creatures that are supposed to fill every field and meadow. So many humans have never seen with their own eyes more than a scant few of the most common of hundreds of wildflowers that are supposed to surround them. Some live in biomes designated forest and have never witnessed truly mature trees. They do not know what the birds sound like. When they see an ordinary deer, they are awed and amazed by it or even afraid of it. They have never eaten any of the delicious wild fruits that grow in their homeland; all birds except starlings and robins and sparrows are so strange and beautiful that they stare in wonder. They confront insects like people on an alien planet encountering an unknown life form: What is this? Will it hurt me?

I cannot even describe the grief I feel on behalf of humans that grow up and live in the wasteland of pavement and lawn. That we are expected to live in these brutal environments, that we are expected to be content without the right or ability to live alongside living creatures, to walk among wildflowers, to hear birdsong, to feel the plush softness of moss, to see even common bees and butterflies—the fact that we live, work, and raise our children in poisonous wastes where nearly everything has been wiped out, and the simplest and most abundant of natural pleasures are rare privileges—it's cruel. It's a crime against the human spirit. It makes me so angry and sad.

When I started researching plants, I had no idea that I would end up expanding my mind so much that I would be virtually a different person within the year. Before I learned, I could not have imagined the diversity and beauty that exists in the world. My mind did not have the tools to come up with it.

I lived for over twenty years believing that there was only one species of firefly. I lived for over twenty years not knowing that the Southeastern US has native bamboo. I had never tasted the indescribable flavor of a pawpaw or seen the iridescent vibrance of a red-spotted purple butterfly. I had only seen a Pileated Woodpecker out the window of a car. I had never touched true topsoil, the soft, living blanket of rich, sweet-smelling earth full of mycelium, as springy and plush as a mattress. Just one year ago, I knew nothing!

Humans, as creatures, are insatiably curious and hunger for beauty. It is so cruel to deprive a human of relationship with their natural environment.

It is no wonder that we are all addicted to the internet—we have a crucial need that is unfulfilled. Compared with a forest, the world of lawns and buildings is so ridiculously flat and unstimulating. You would expect humans in such a place to feel constantly bored, restless, frustrated, and incurably sad.

I feel that lack of curiosity can be a chosen thing, but it is also a defense mechanism against a world that will feel like sandpaper on the senses of the curious.

But we need curiosity to fix this—we need the ability to notice the living things that have crept in at the edges of the wasteland and be infected and tormented by their beauty. We need to recognize the forest reaching into our cage in the form of tiny saplings. We need to discard the word "weed," not because it is derogatory because it is fundamentally incurious—it designates a plant as needing no identity outside of its unwantedness. We must learn their names. We must wonder what their names are.

#nature #plants

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What Will Your FS Admire Most About You?

⚤ “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” - Pablo Neruda

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, disregard any pronouns that do not apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✠ Pile One ✠ (King of Cups,Page of Cups,The World,7)

✧ Cards went wiillldddd. You stir up so much emotion in this person, it’s crazy. Your heart chakra is front and center here. You are picture-perfect harmony and universal love to your spouse. Your love can’t be contained, you love them, your friends, your favorite mug, worms out in the rain, strangers, the moon, and all the stars in the sky.

✧ All I see is a wide-ass smile, the biggest, wateriest eyes, and full cheeks. Your spouse thinks you’re sunshine-incarnated.

✧ This will sound corny, but your heart and love for the world and all its diversity make you appear angelic; God’s gift to humanity. The emotional depth you have is nothing shy of divine. Your ability to understand and reconnect your person with their inner dreamer makes you irreplaceable in their eyes. 

✧ I feel like your future spouse had to navigate around a lot of emotionally stunted people who left scars that prevented them from forming healthy relationships. Your empathy and desire to make space for peace and unity in this world give them hope that true love is alive and they are the lucky son of a bitch who gets to call an angel, theirs.

✧ I smell salt and hear waves. (I bet you’re tired of the cheesy poetry but HEY, me and your boo are OBSESSED with your energy) You truly are as beautiful and powerful as the seven seas.

✧ You know the Ouroboros, and how it's sometimes depicted as a snake wrapped around the oceans, holding onto its tail to keep the world together? Yea, that. To your future partner, you hold the key to their world. You add so much color and vibrancy. You turn over their inner ocean and awaken so much repressed child-like wonder within them.

✧ Wow. Your spouse loves the depths of you.

✧ Check for water placements, signs, and houses, in your natal chart. Some of you have insane intuition and have clairsenses. Clairaudience to be specific.

✧ Some of you are active in charities or aspire to make a difference in society. Maybe you’re into esoteric practices or anything else metaphysical.

✧ I even have a few philosophers here. Okay, KANT! (somebody please get this joke)

She Excites the Seven Seas

✠ Pile Two ✠ (Ace of Pentacles,8oW,The Emperor rev., “I Want”)

I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me

✧ Of course, you don’t have to be a woman but that TikTok sound SCREAMED at me. Your future spouse is lowkey intimidated by you and they love it.

✧ You have big dreams. Big plans. But most importantly, a million and one ways to get you where you need to be. Your ability to say “I want this,” and then actually go out and GET it?? Your spouse is like the meme that goes “I’m a little scared, but I’m turned on.”

✧ I also see that you’re unconventional. If people have been doing whatever you want to do a certain way for years, you'll find ways to do it differently, just cause. You’re a true trailblazer. Your self-conviction is so damn alluring. Even for the people who struggle with insecurity sometimes, once you get over that hump and decide that you desire something, you fucking get it. Your partner sees you like magic. They are impressed by just how quickly your desires are set in motion for you. They feel that you are powerful and bring a great deal of power to them from just being in your proximity.

✧ You are also the “I don’t take shit from nobody” type. Not from strangers, not from your friends, your family, not even from your partner. In their eyes, you know your worth and have a strong self-foundation that nobody can tear down. There is genuine admiration and respect here. I even get the “I want to be like you when I grow up” mentality.

✧ There is a speediness to you they find very attractive. Either the way you behave, speak, or just stress about time, your pacing holds a special place in their heart. (or maybe, despite all of your responsibilities, you manage to find stillness in the chaos and slow down when necessary)

✧ The way you speak drives this person wild. It's like your voice narrates their thoughts and is the source of all of their arousal. Do with that information what you will...(don't be cruel, you make this person so nervous).

✧ I shuffled through a playlist and E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE!! by Corpse came on and one of the lyrics goes,

She just look into my soul with them Shinigami eye Coke in my nose and a blade on her thigh. Man, I think this girl is really trying to plan my demise

✧ Yea, you put the fear of God into this person, but in a good way! Your presence can be chilling sometimes. Fire energy for sure. There are definitely people here from pile 2 of my first pac, “What are your most alluring qualities?”, check that out if you want to.

✧ Okay, this energy has me needing to take a LAP, bye.

"Man, I Think This Girl Tryna Plan My Demise"

✠ Pile Three ✠ (10oW, 9oW)(no other cards wanted to come out, real stubborn)

✧ Okay so, this feels specific?... and maybe even a lil off topic but I feel called to say this

✧ I sense that you and your person are psychically connected and share the mutual feeling that the two of you are meant to cross paths. The both of you have gotten your fair share of fuckery in this lifetime and this union feels like divine justice.

✧ This sounds a little fucked up, but you guys flourish amid trauma. Dark energy alchmaziers. You best wield your potential while you’re going THROUGH it.

✧ You had to “die” and bury yourself a dozen times to get where you are today.

✧ You are a very evolved individual. Throughout your life, traumatic events and relationships have forced you to bear a lot of weight on your back and it’s like the pressure has forged you into a diamond. With each curveball life threw at you, you stood tall and pushed to make something of yourself, proving your worth after a lifetime of strife and instability.

✧ Scorpio/Capricorn and 8th house/10th house placements. (check midpoints).

✧ A lot of you have tense shoulders, upper back, shoulder, and neck pain from the unease and anxiety your body carries. You have insomnia and may even struggle with nightmares.

✧ This person you’re coming into union with is so healing.

✧ This is something the both of you broke down and prayed for on your darkest days. This is a true partner, the soul that kept yours warm when the world was so cold. You had to put your dreamier side on the back burner to survive. This person will make you feel safe to dream again.

✧ I don’t have anything specific to say because you and your person feel so secretive  You two recognize each other’s pain and are the only people you guys trust. Like not even lil ol’ me can really get through to y'all. Y’all ride AND die for each other, in this life and the next.

✧ If you’re into astrology and already have a feel for who this person is, check your guys’ composite chart. Strong Scorpio energy here.

✧ Coming into union with this person will feel like a wish fulfillment.

✧ (short pile, it felt like a quick message for those of you who feel this connection telepathically. This is probably a secondary choice.)

"I Want To Caress The Piece of Me Within You"

✠ Pile Four ✠ (Queen of Wands, 9oP rev., 7oP, 4oP rev., the high priestess, queen of cups, “I will”)

✧ You’re a bad bitch, truly. Your fs isn’t calling you a bitch, buuuttttt she a baddie, she know she a ten! She a baddie with her baddie…. wait a minute…

✧ You may not have a lot of friends? You keep your circle tight-knit because you have been deeply hurt in the past and you guard your peace fiercely. For some of you, your home life was quite tumultuous and you struggle with financial security and inner happiness. It seemed like the world did not want you to feel good about yourself or succeed.

✧ Do you know that viral display of a deer’s ribcage with a spear through it, and how even though an attempt was made on the deer’s life, he managed to survive and lived for years after that event; all while still growing bone marrow with a giant fucking spear through its ribcage?

✧ “A close encounter with a hunter left the deer with several broken ribs and part of an arrow embedded in its body. Remarkably, the animal survived, and bone grew around the shaft and arrowhead lodged in the creature's side."

✧ "The deer lived with the arrow inside its body until years later, when another hunter killed the animal, cut the deer open, and discovered its amazing secret…As the tough tissue formed over the arrow, it acted as a splint for the damaged rib cage, strengthening the deer's injured body.”

✧ I highlighted some words that needed emphasizing. That’s how your partner sees you. They are in complete awe of the resilience and sheer tenacity you hold. They look at you and can’t believe the person before their eyes. The troubling history you usually try to hide from your romantic partners is exactly what allures this person. 

✧ You won’t ever lay on your belly and cry about life passing you by. You aren’t the type to victimize yourself and “woe is me” your way out of self-improvement.

✧ You are quite ambitious and aim to push forward, even if the odds are stacked against you.

✧ I get the message that some people in this pile have struggled with self-harm over the years. Your partner wants to kneel down and kiss your scars like a white knight, and vow to protect you emotionally and physically for as long as you’ll have them.

✧ The spear-deer imagery is so interesting. The deer represents virality. It is a symbol of piety, gentleness, devotion, and fertility. Especially with the queen of wands, the high priestess, AND the queen of cups, you provide profound love, passion, and insight to this person. However, even as a deer, you are quite badass???

✧ You are as gentle as a strand of hair but as strong as wool. Dainty but unbreakable.

✧ They have no desire to infantilize you because they know you are already your own greatest warrior. But they don’t want you to feel that you have to fight alone. Whatever burdens are on your plate, they take away as much as possible because they want to be a piece of the paradise you fight for.

✧ This is meant to be a short pac, a Tumblr post won’t do the unbelievable strength in your character much justice. Just know that your fs is so fucking in love with you and wants to spend their life by your side because of just how awe-struck they are by you.

✧ I mean c’mon… will YOU ever forget the story of the coolest fucking deer in existence??

"I Yearn To Be the Name You Call Out in Victory"

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #astrology observations #pick a pile #arijackz

[stillmonsterz]

when you split the heart open

pairing: heeseung x reader, jake x reader (kind of)

genre: smut, angst (?)

summary: heeseung is dating the girl of his dreams. the only problem? he has to have sex with her.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, name-calling, manipulation, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, humiliation (?), heeseung is a cuck

word count: 5.1k

---

Heeseung had a girlfriend, and she was amazing. She was pretty, smart, funny, and her body was out of this world. She had a particular vibrancy and joie de vivre that made spending time with her invigorating. She was the opposite of a dead fish in the bedroom- she was vocal, enthusiastic, and loved to please him.

He disliked having sex with her.

Sometimes he almost pitied her; she would seduce him in any way she could, winding her hips seductively, crawling towards him on the bed wearing nothing but thigh-high socks, rubbing his crotch under the table when they ate out, anything to catch his attention. Of course, he didn’t pass up a good fuck – he wasn’t insane – but it did nothing for him but provide a quick release.

It wasn’t like he didn’t love her, he did. He was convinced that someday, he could even marry her. It’s just that he found that he loved her best when she was farther away from him, someone he could admire rather than keep. Heeseung found her beautiful at 11 pm, when she would dance alone in her bedroom wearing a baggy T-shirt. Or when she would shove her face into her pillow and thrust the end of a hairbrush into her pussy. It was an amazing night when he had caught that- he had been parked outside of her apartment complex, so he got a side-view, and the camera he had set up in her closet gave him a perfect shot of her smooth legs and raised ass. The day after that, when they had had sex in his van, the memory of her chasing her orgasm got him to finish.

Heeseung was a voyeur, and he was starting to think that it was becoming a problem. And it wasn’t even a problem he could complain about; in a moment of weakness, he had told his best friend Jay that he didn’t like how frequently his girlfriend wanted sex, and Jay had heavily implied that Heeseung was gay.

He was getting really sick and tired of having to fuck his girlfriend all the time. Heeseung had suggested mutual masturbation, which backfired. It ended up being too intimate for him and it just got her hot. She had pounced on him and ridden him as if her life depended on it.

At times, he missed how things were before they started dating. He had met her at her job, and had never revisited. Instead, he had waited for her shift to finish, followed her home, and tugged himself dry while he watched her undress in her room. The curtains were too sheer, and sometimes she wouldn’t even draw them. It made him think she wanted him to see her, and the thought of that always made him harder.

She had approached him at the local grocery store, as he was buying ramen noodles. She had said that she had wanted to see him again, Heeseung had made up some excuse, and through a series of events that Heeseung hadn’t lived through so much as passively observed, they had ended up dating.

It had been eight months of dating, cuddling, and sex, and he felt exhausted. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he also loved spending time with her. So he started making up excuses to not sleep with her. Headaches, shifts at work, weird erections from his medication.

One day, a few days after their eight month anniversary where Heeseung had reluctantly eaten her out, she confronted him. They were sitting on his couch, playing Mario Kart, when she turned to him.

“Do you still like me?” she asked, voice shaky.

Heeseung shut the TV off immediately. “Huh? Of course I like you- baby, I love you.” He rested his hands on hers as they clutched the controller.

“Then why don’t you like sleeping with me?”

“No, no, I…” Heeseung hesitated. This was the perfect time to come clean. They could work things out, maybe. It would be good to get it off his chest. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been having a…problem. It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Her eyes were wide and glassy. She was wearing his large hoodie and a pair of dolphin shorts. She looked perfect. “A problem?”

“Yes, a problem. I…I…look. I like you. I love you. You’re my girl.” Heeseung reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “The problem is that you’re just…like an angel to me. It feels wrong when I…when I fuck you.”

“What?” It came out as a squeak, and she recoiled from his touch. “Feels wrong?”

“No, no, not that you’re wrong, it’s me, it’s that…” Heeseung sighed. “I like to look at you I like seeing you move, it’s like art come to life. It feels like when I touch you, I’m sullying something beautiful, something that needs to be kept clean.” Heeseung thought that if he made it sound more romantic and less like a paraphilia, she would be more inclined to hear him out. And to his glee, she slowly leaned into his touch again, her cheek rubbing against his hand.

“You find me beautiful?”

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met,” he said, staring her in her luminous eyes. “Too gorgeous for me.”

“You aren’t,” she said imploringly, holding his wrist with her two hands. “Heeseung, I love you. And I really like having sex with you. Why did you sleep with me all those times if you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I did enjoy it, I did. I just…I wanted to make you happy, baby.” Heeseung kissed her forehead. “Your happiness matters the most to me. I’d do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her vack, cupping her face in his hands.

“Anything for me?”

“Anything, Heeseung.”

“I have an idea.”

He clambered into his room and pulled out his hairbrush. “Just…just use this to get off, okay?” He handed it to her, and she accepted it slowly, turning it over like it was a foreign object.

His girlfriend looked up at him. “Right now?”

Heeseung shook his head. “Not yet. Hold on.” He ran to his room again and found an old handheld camcorder.

She squinted at it. “You’re going to film me?”

“No, it’s dead,” he lied. “See?” He showed her the black screen. “I’m just going to use this to mimic the feeling of….uh, awayness. Like an extra screen between you and I.”

She fiddled with the hairbrush, feeling its smooth wooden end with her thumb. “Well…I mean, I’m not really in the mood right now….”

“You’re always in the mood,” he replied, frustration slowly building in him. “I swear you’re like a dog in heat sometimes.”

His girlfriend’s eyes widened again. “What?”

“You’re always asking to get fucked. You’re like a nymphomaniac, I swear. I bet you go home and hump your pillows right after I turn you out because you just can’t get enough.” Heeseung had seen exactly that from one of his midnight excursions to her place.

“I’m not a nympho-,”

“Oh, yes you are. Whores like to get fucked less than you do. I can only imagine how much you got around before I cuffed you.” He saw her shove one hand down her dolphin shorts. He raised the camera with a smile.

“I’m a whore?” Her face was flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

“You’re a whore who gets off to being called a whore. Good fucking thing you’re with me, or else you would have been taken advantage of already, especially with that slutty body of yours.”

To his growing delight, she had tugged her shorts off and slipped her dainty little panties off. The end of his hairbrush slipped deftly in and out of her glistening folds.

Heeseung stopped talking, as so not too ruin the footage with his voice. He just watched her circle her clit with her manicured fingers, watched her pussy swallow the hairbrush.

“Heeseung,” she moaned, and he scowled, cutting the video short.

“Don’t say my name,” he said. “And keep your eyes shut.” When her eyes fluttered shut, he turned the camera on. He stroked himself in time with the insertion of the hairbrush. Seeing her splayed out on his couch, her head tossed back, his hoodie riding up to expose her soft tummy…it was amazing. And the fact that she didn’t know he was filming her made it all the better. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it was perfect. When she came, she nearly said his name again, but she cut herself off instead. He didn’t let himself cum, but he moaned and pretended like he did too.

Heeseung kissed his girlfriend, licked the sweat off of her face. “Perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The second she left his house, he sniffed the couch, the exact place where she had sat as they had played video games. Her scent was so strong; he buried his face into the faux leather and inhaled deeply. Heeseung closed his eyes, imagined her masturbating herself all alone in room, and finished all over the couch.

He was going to have so much fun.

The platonic aspects of their relationship stayed the same. They would have simple at-home dates, occasionally going out to restaurants or the movies or anywhere she liked. Heeseung didn’t really care what they did as a couple. He just liked to be around her.

They still had sex, but it had gone from several times a week to once every two weeks. It was still a dreaded task for Heeseung, but it balanced out now that they had incorporated his voyeuristic tendencies into their relationship.

On movie dates, he made sure to get tickets in a theatre with a sparse audience. Then, he would leave his seat, sitting a few rows back, and watch his girlfriend play with herself, fondling her tits and slipping a hand into her jeans. If they went to the beach, Heeseung would take her to a secluded spot, tell her to lie down on a towel, and to strip. She would sunbathe completely nude,  rubbing lotion all over herself.

When she would go out with her friends, Heeseung would periodically text her, asking her to unbutton a few of her buttons, or to send him a picture of her panties. He asked her to fuck herself in public bathrooms and to send videos for proof. He would lazily stroke his cock to the grainy footage of her sliding her fingers in and out of her tight pussy. When she told him that men were hitting on her, he would text, “Good job.” Then he would tell her to unbutton another few buttons, or to part her legs as she rode the subway. What he would really like would be for her to walk around dressed in a tiny little crop top that showed the underside of her breasts and shorts that displayed her bare ass, but Heeseung knew he was already asking for a lot.

A few times, he had strapped her to his bed with rope, so that her arms and legs were bound. He had affixed a phone-controlled vibrator between her thighs, and he watched her writhe on his bed with glee. Heeseung watched her have orgasm after orgasm, and if she begged him to stop he would get angry. He would complain that she had ruined it. He would pry her mouth open with his fingers, and she would suck him off to completion. Then he would start the process over again, until her face was flushed, her legs would shake, and he could even glimpse her pussy clenching around nothing. It was fun for him, but eventually he grew tired of watching it. He had tried making it more interesting by binding her fingers in front of her hole so she could tremblingly fuck herself, but the rush of that wore off too. Heeseung needed something more, something that could sate his urges.

So he had asked for something else.

---

“You want me to do what?” They were at a café, and she put down the croissant she had been nibbling.

Heeseung raised his hands. “You don’t have to do it. It was just a suggestion.”

“Heeseung, I know you’re struggling, but…nude karaoke?”

He sighed and looked away from her. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s getting hard, you know. I love you, and I feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s really messing with me, up here…” Heeseung tapped the side of his head. “I feel like a freak.”

Her face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’re not a freak, my love. You’re just…”

“A perv who wants his girlfriend to get nude in front of strangers.” Heeseung laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m really normal.”

“You’re not a perv, either.” She swallowed. “I mean…this could actually be good for me. It could help me explore my sexuality more.” She squeezed his hand and mustered up a smile. “I think we should try it?”

Heeseung didn’t allow himself to smile. “Yeah? I mean, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want to do this.”

He leaned across the table and kissed her all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the nicest girl ever.”

That night was nude karaoke night at a local var. When they arrived, there were only a five dozen or so attendees, mainly men. They were sitting around a makeshift stage in wooden chairs that had been dragged from the surrounding tables. A woman was there, warbling a song as she swayed her hips. The men seemed bored, and Heeseung started to feel prideful. His girl, who was wearing a loose white dress and had folded her arms tightly around her chest, was so much prettier than that other woman. These men were going to shit themselves when she started to sing.

The woman finished her song, and the applause was scattered. Then his girlfriend slowly walked onto the stage, her heels clacking against the floor. Her hands were scrunched into fists. As she adjusted the mic, one man yelled, “Take your tits out, now!”

Another said, “Don’t look so shy, sweetheart.”

Heeseung was elated.

She introduced the song she was going to sing – Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Heeseung had heard her sing that one; her voice had always sounded so melancholic, fragile, and sweet. He smiled at her encouragingly.

The intro to the song played, and she pulled her dress off, revealing her stunning body. The men whooped and cheered, hurling vulgarities at her. She tried to sing, clutching the microphone tightly, but the jeering was loud. As Heeseung scanned the small space, he saw that the men around him were either stroking their bulges covertly or outright jerking themselves off.

His girlfriend kept singing with her eyes closed. Heeseung wanted her to open them, so she could see the effect he was having on all of those men. They were all drooling after her, calling her a slut, saying that she must be tight, that they would fuck up whoever got to tap that pussy. Heeseung jerked himself off right there, joining in the orgiastic atmosphere of the cramped little bar. He watched her sing, his heart full.

When she finished, the patrons begged her to keep singing. They tossed money at her, wadded bills. She glanced at Heeseung, who nodded, and so she continued to sing, this time quietly crooning In The Mood For Love.

A man told her to play with her tits while she sang, and she did, running her thumb along her nipples. It was more than Heeseung could handle, and he came halfway through the song.

After her second performance, she hurried off of the stage, collecting some of the money before pulling her dress on. She ran out, which was smart, because the men were starting to clamor for her to do worse acts. Heeseung followed after her, and before he opened his car, he kissed her in the parking lot.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, kissing her again. “So amazing. Your voice is beautiful.”

She scoffed. “My voice?”

Heeseung shrugged playfully. “And, you know, your body. You looked sexy up there. Everyone thought so.”

His girlfriend rested her hands against his chest. “Did you think so?”

“Of course I did,” he said in a placating tone, stroking her hair. “Of course, baby.”

“You’re the only person I care about,” she said quietly.

“Me too.”

She hesitated. “Did you…like what I did? How did that make you feel, me going up there, naked, and…”

Heeseung tilted her chin up with his finger. “I loved it. I fucking loved it. I came in mere minutes. You’re amazing, baby.”

She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Heeseung held her like she would slip away from him.

--

After that, she became different. Without even asking, she had started to wear tighter, shorter clothes. She used to go out in dresses, worn jeans, or she’d just wear his hoodies. Now, she wore bodycon dresses, miniskirts that practically gave you peeks of her ass, and she had cut her shirts up so that they displayed her midriff. It was amazing.

He liked to parade her around the mall now. The sight of men and women alike ogling his girlfriend made his cock so hard, he would walk with a limp. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he would take her into the family bathroom, or slip into a change room and fuck her in there. Public sex was marginally better than regular sex with her, because he liked to imagine that men were fantasizing about her. He would close his eyes and imagine her naked, standing like a mannequin in a store, and all of the men who had lasciviously eyed her in the mall being forced to see her but unable to touch. It was a glorious time.

The novelty wore off after a few months, and he lost interest in having sex with her again. She could tell, and he knew that she was getting nervous. She performed at nude karaoke again, but even that did nothing for him.

He knew what he wanted from her.

On their first anniversary as a couple, Heeseung had taken her to brunch at a restaurant she had been eyeing. She wore this little black crop top with a tiny skirt, and her makeup was perfect.

Towards the end of their meal, Heeseung dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Baby,” he began, staring her in the eyes, “you are my better half. I can’t believe I’ve been able to spend a full year with you. You’re so kind, so sweet, so understanding, and so gorgeous.” He reached out and kissed her hand, and she giggled. “You’re the light of my life. You’re my reason to go on, and you deserve the moon. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is this.” Heeseung pulled a small black box out of his jacket pocket.

With a smile so bright Heeseung swore it could cause flowers to bloom, she opened the box. She gasped when she saw the charm bracelet he had bought her. “Oh, Heeseung,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so expensive.”

“You deserve it,” he said softly, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist. “You deserve the world, baby.”

“I have it right here,” she replied.

They shared a kiss, then Heeseung leaned into her ear. “I was thinking…we could make this anniversary even more special.”

Her lips curled into a mischievous little smile. “How?”

“You said you’d do anything for me, right?”

She pulled away from him slightly, her lips setting into a thin line.

“Right?” he asked firmly, taking hold of her hand.

“Of course,” she said frantically, “anything for you, my love.”

---

The motel that Heeseung had driven them to was shoddy and sleazy. There were people outside smoking on lawn chairs, and dilapidated cars filled the parking lot. The neon sign affixed to the window flashed its name: Ethan’s Motel. Heeseung ushered his girlfriend inside, and he took note of the people populating the motel. Tweakers, men in sweaty wife-beaters.

He wondered which one would give his girlfriend the best fuck.

In the end, he told her to find someone while he set up the rooms. She asked how, and he told her to just be upfront with them. Heeseung had bought two rooms, which stunk of dust and reeked of bodily fluids. He hid a small camera in a flower pot- his girlfriend didn’t know about that – and shoved a nail through the wall to make a small hole, just to cover his ass.

Then he went to the other room to set up his laptop, which showed the feed from the camera. He set that on the small desk directly in front of his bed.

Within ten minutes, his girlfriend was leading a man into the motel room. He looked around their age and had a shaggy mop of hair. He was shorter than Heeseung, so Heeseung figured that his dick was probably smaller, too. But his girlfriend wouldn’t mind that, he was sure- who knows how much random dick she’d bounced on before they dated? Anyways, her hookup looked nice enough, but then again, he was hanging around a place like this.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked, still holding his hand. She sat down on the bed, and the guy followed.

“Jake,” he said. “And yours?”

She told him her name, and he nodded.

“Well, you’re…you’re hot as hell,” Jake said, laughing awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck. Heeseung was getting really pissed off, but he told himself to be patient.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said lowly, tracing a finger down Jake’s chest. Heeseung shivered. “I think you know how to please a woman, right?”

Jake smirked and slowly pushed Heeseung’s girlfriend down until he was hovering above her. “Come find out.”

Heeseung watched Jake make out with his girlfriend. He watched his girlfriend lie, refusing to even touch Jake. It made him frown. She was supposed to be enjoying this. He wanted to see her in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to see her in all of her hedonistic glory.

Finally, she kissed Jake back, and he started taking his clothes off. He seemed as frantic as Heeseung was. She undressed, casting her clothes aside, and Jake was on top of her again.

Jake shifted around so that her ass was above his face as she lied on top of him. He started to lick her pussy, firmly gripping her ass with both of her hands. She started to suck him off, only licking the tip at first before throating Jake’s cock.

Heeseung whimpered, unzipping his jeans and only allowing himself minimal pressure as he palmed himself over his boxers. If he didn’t pace himself, he was going to cum before the fun truly began.

Jake continued to eat Heeseung’s girlfriend out, and Heeseung could hear his moans through the door. His girlfriend was being incredibly quiet, however, which was annoying. She pulled herself off of Jake and sat at the head of the bed. She spread her legs and looked up at Jake with empty eyes. Jake crawled towards her, and from that angle Heeseung could only see his hips moving rapidly and his girlfriend’s legs quivering. Her hands feebly wrapped around Jake and hugged him tightly as she pounded her.

Then Jake laid flat on his back and she got on top of him. The way she arched her back, practically dancing on Jake’s dick, made Heeseung moan. She gripped Jake’s shoulders and took him to the hilt, her eyes closed. Jake was holding her hips and whispering, “Fuck, fuck that’s nice, fuck.” It was annoying that this shmuck didn’t have anything better to say, but Heeseung didn’t really care. He was forcing himself to stroke himself at a snail’s pace, when all he wanted to do was rub his dick raw.

His girlfriend got off of Jake’s cock and went on all fours, so that she was facing the TV of the motel room. In other words, she was facing Heeseung’s camera. It felt like magic, like she knew or something. He couldn’t take it anymore, and Heeseung spit in his hand and started stroking himself directly. Jake kneeled behind Heeseung’s girlfriend and started ramming into her, one hand slapping her ass and the other pulling her hair back.

Heeseung took in the details of her body; the shuddering of her torso, the trembling of her arms as she steadied herself on the bed, the way that her ass pressed against Jake’s groin as he pounded into her, the way her breasts freely shook, the conflicted expression on her perfect little face, the sheen of sweat covering her from her head to her toes. Heeseung had always known that she was beautiful, but now he swore that she was an angel.

Jake panted, “I’m close, fuck, fuck!” so Heeseung rubbed his cock even faster, his other hand squeezing his balls. It was an Olympic feat to suppress his growing orgasm, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Not when his girlfriend was whimpering so prettily, when she was so consumed by her own pleasure, guilt, and embarrassment that she had probably forgotten all about the camera filming it all. Heeseung thought he might die.

With a guttural moan, Jake came in her, weakly thrusting a few more times to drain the last of his cum. Then he let her drop onto the bed, and she collapsed like a rag doll. Heeseung came as well, biting his lip harshly so he wouldn’t moan. He milked his cock with a white-hot fervor, riding out his high for as long as he could. When the aftershock hit him, all he could do was take quick gasps of air. Heeseung licked his lips and tasted blood.

Jake stroked his girlfriend’s hair, kissed her forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The sight of her limp and pliant, barely lifting her head to talk to Jake, was so arousing that Heeseung wished he had it in him to jack off again. This footage would last him for months.

As Heeseung closes his eyes to relive the memory, Jake put his clothes on. He dug around in his jacket, pulled out a few bills, and left them on her back. He left, closing the door with a soft click. Heeseung’s girlfriend remained where she was, as stiff as a corpse. Heeseung didn’t leave his motel room right away, the images in his head too vivid, too lush.

Heeseung walked inside of the motel room, and the smell of sex was intoxicating. “Baby, that was amazing- you, you were amazing.” His grin is stretched maniacally wide, and his steps towards the hidden camera were buoyant. “I came so hard, baby. It was perfect, just perfect.” He removed the camera from the potted plant and tucked it carefully into its bag.

She hadn’t said a word, just resting on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. Poor thing, Heeseung thought, she hadn’t had a fucking like that since we got together. Poor little angel. He walked over to her and lay next to her on the bed. He kissed her over and over, holding her slick cheeks in her hands. “You’re so perfect,” Heeseung whispered. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you. You’re amazing, thank you, thank you.”

She opened her eyes, and her apprehensive gaze made Heeseung’s cock stir. “I feel dirty,” she said, voice choked with emotion.

“No, baby,” he said, kissing her nose again. He gently crawls on top of her, circling his arms around her waist. “You’re not dirty. You’re good, so good. You’re the best. There’s nothing wrong with…with exploring. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?” His girlfriend hesitated, so he firmly said, “You enjoyed it. Right? I could tell you did.”

She nodded, bucking her head against his chin affectionately. “I did.”

“You did,” Heeseung breathed out. “I knew you would, my sweet girl.” His hand trailed down to his pants zipper, and he pulled his cock out. He gave it a few strokes, but the sight of another man’s cum coating her thighs was all the motivation he needed. “You’re the best,” he cooed, slipping inside of his girlfriend. It was so easy because she had been fucked open by Jake, and she took him so well. The only sound she made when he entered her was a soft little sigh.

Heeseung closed his eyes and thought of her face again, the contortion of her features into that portrait of debauchery. His arms remained tight around her in a stiff embrace, his cheek resting on her head. He thought about how amazing it would be to see another man fuck her again. Maybe two, three, a train of strangers having their turns with his girlfriend, his beautiful, kind girlfriend. Heeseung couldn’t have pulled out of her if he had tried as the fantasies overtake him. He finished inside of her, hot jizz clamoring out of him in spurts, and wiped his tip on one of the bills Jake left on her back. The room felt like it was spinning, and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with fire. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I love you so much.”

Heeseung pushes the money off of her back and carries his girlfriend into the small bathroom. He placed her inside of the cracked bathtub and filled it with warm water. He left her there to get her toiletry bag, and when he came back she was staring at the ceiling. As he scrubbed her body, he pressed kisses to her skin. He washed her like a piece of alabaster pottery, washing her thoroughly. When he dried her off, he noticed that she hadn’t said a single word. “Baby?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Heeseung.”

He carried her to bed and dressed her in her grey robe. He stripped to his boxers and kissed her cheeks before he pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her head onto his chest and stroked her soft, downy hair.

He had never felt so in love.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut

[itsswritten]

Naughty little shadows | 9

Pairing: azriel x fem reader

Word count: 9.1K

Warnings: Angst, fighting, an animals bones breaking, IC fallout, 18+ dni if you are underaged, smut, fingering, oral fem receiving -- if I've missed anything please tell me.

Summary: You and Azriel begin to navigate the new complexities of your mating bond, but you quickly realise how dangerous this could become. Is being mated to the Shadowsinger worth your safety?

A/N: I've written a chunky one for you here. You are all very welcome ;) You asked for unhinged Az and you got it, you asked for smut and you got it. Mwah enjoy loves - Lottie

<< Previous Part

In your workshop, the air was thick with the scent of various botanicals and minerals, each carefully selected for their unique properties and hues. On the wooden countertop, there lay an array of ingredients: crushed petals of vibrant flowers, powdered gemstones shimmering with iridescence, and vials filled with rare extracts from mystical plants. You carefully measured and mixed these elements, adding drops of precious oils and resins to create paints that glowed with otherworldly brilliance.

You could do this all day, everyday. 

It was your escapism.

 Adding a touch of magic to paints was the one part of your power you’ve always been able to exercise. It being subtle and non threatening, meant it became a release of some sorts. Creating new paints, and colours that weren’t even on the rainbow brought you so much joy and gave vibrancy to your life. It gave you purpose, something you were grateful for.

Orders had been pouring into the shop since the Travelling Market. Receiving commissions far and wide, meant no day was quiet. You welcomed the work that fuelled your creativity. As you meticulously worked on the final touches of your latest order, Adon's voice broke the concentration, announcing the arrival of a large delivery for Feyre. 

With a light sigh from being pulled out of your work midway, you set aside your brushes and turned to see Adon standing at the door, a sheepish expression on his face as he gestured towards the cart filled with supplies. It was rammed with canvases, an easel, brushes and other tools that you were sure Feyre already had. 

"I need you to deliver these to the House of Wind," he requested, holding out a box of paints that seemed to be part of the order.

Strange.

Feyre always got her things delivered to River house or her studio in the artist quarter. Who were you to question though. She was High Lady, she could paint wherever her heart pleased.

You nod to Adon, "No worries, I'll just finish up this order and be on my way."

You were sure to finish off your latest commission, signing off the delivery to be sent to Autumn court. 

As you wiped your hands, stained with various liquids and powders, on your overalls, you hoisted the box of paints onto your right shoulder, securing your grip on its top. With a playful tilt of your head, you directed your attention to Adon's cart.

"You’re gonna need legs for this one" you quipped with a small smile, gesturing toward the cart.

Understanding your jest, the wooden cart let out a series of groans and creaks as it transformed. Planks of wood shifted and contorted beneath it, forming two wooden long legs that gracefully held up the container of supplies.

Adon’s inventions were always a treasure of yours. You loved every single thing he created. Always finding a solution to a problem in the most unique way. His creations were a little unconventional, an acquired taste– but you loved them all the same. 

Adon and your family had always got along. Inventors, creators, artists; always had a way of finding one another. A grin spread across your face as you watched the magical cart faithfully follow behind you, its load of art supplies in tow.

With the box of paints slung over your shoulder and the magical cart clomping behind you, you quickly winnowed yourself and the cart to the bottom of the stairs of the House of wind. The ascent was long and tiring, the cart creaking behind you with each step as if groaning in agreement. Nonetheless, you pressed on, each step bringing you closer to the top of winding stairs above.

You hadn’t visited the House of Wind before, though you knew it was home to Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta. As you climbed, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see where your mate lived, to catch a glimpse into a part of his life that you hadn't yet experienced.

What did his bedroom look like? How had he chosen to decorate his sanctuary? You imagined him amidst his personal haven, perhaps surrounded by books. You always found him rummaging through your collection whenever he visited you.

Azriel had described the breathtaking view from the House of Wind, mentioning how Velaris looked like a radiant jewel at night from this vantage point. You would love to experience that firsthand with him by your side.

Azriel had frequented your apartment numerous times, often citing the need for privacy away from his family. Yet, a nagging worry lingered in your mind—that perhaps you weren't entirely welcome. You noted the absence of Cassian and Mor since your initial encounter, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you might not be fully embraced within their circle. With this being Cassian’s home too, maybe you weren’t welcome here.

You had been working to mend bridges, taking steps to forge a stronger connection with Azriel’s family. Attending Feyre’s painting classes was your first effort, an easier one as you and Feyre were already friendly acquaintances and had a common passion for art. It was clear though that Feyre appreciated your efforts, especially considering the tension that had surfaced after her sister's outburst at the brunch. She had confided in you that she was worried that it may have caused a rift, but you assured her that was all water under the bridge. You even hoped with time you, Elain and Azriel could all be on better terms.

Feyre had smiled at that when you told her, and she’d made a point one evening when the inner circle had gone out to Ritas to tell Azriel how much she liked you.

You were desperate to see what life he had behind these walls– and of course, everything outside of these walls. You wanted to explore every aspect of Azriel’s life. The recent challenges in your relationship had been daunting, yet you couldn’t deny how much closer it had brought you together.

You were really beginning to feel like a unified pair.

Ten weeks ago, the enigmatic Shadowsinger had been a mere acquaintance, a figure shrouded in mystery. But in this brief span of time, you had already unravelled the layers of one another. Learning, growing and figuring out how to trust.

And you wanted more of it. 

You hadn’t accepted the bond yet, in fact neither of you had even discussed that. But one thing was becoming clear, you wanted Azriel in your life. The desire to intertwine your destinies grew stronger with each passing moment. Whether that be spent in your apartment, exploring the depths of your power together, or the late-night walks down the winding Sidra, hand in hand. When he surprises you with your favourite pastries to coax you away from your work or those tender moments when your lips meet his that give you a sense of completeness. 

You wanted it all and more.

You just needed to let him know.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you were met with the imposing sight of the grand doors of the House of Wind. Crafted from rich, dark wood and adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of the mountains beyond the court, the doors stood tall and powerful.

Hesitating for a moment, you stole a glance at the magical cart, which creaked awkwardly on its newly formed legs. With a slight chuckle, you steadied yourself and approached the doors. Raising your hand, you rapped your knuckles against the sturdy wood, the sound echoing through the house.

As the grand doors swung open at your gentle knock, you called out for Feyre, but the only response was the hollow echo of your voice reverberating through the vast space. Undeterred, you stepped inside, the sound of your footsteps echoing on the stone floor as the creaking cart followed closely behind.

"Hello, anyone here? I've got a delivery," you called out again, your voice carrying through the silence of the empty halls. 

How peculiar. 

No one seemed to be around.

As you ventured further into the house, you couldn't help but marvel at its grandeur, realising just how humble the River House seemed in comparison. And River House was not humble by any means. It really highlighted the multitude of wealth they had, wealth they deserved, of course. It was their court, after all. But still, it was a stark difference to the tiny apartment you rented, which, at times, felt too small for both you and Azriel when he visited.

Each room you passed seemed to exude luxury and elegance, from the richly decorated walls adorned with exquisite paintings to the lavish furnishings.

It was all beautiful. But you preferred your cosy apartment– with it’s crooked walls and low ceilings. 

Entering a spacious room with an open door, you noticed a few canvases leaning against the wall, indicating that this might be another one of Feyre's studios – or at least you hoped so. You had called out numerous times, even calling out for Azriel and his shadows in case he was around. You didn’t want to appear snooping, but with no one to greet you, you really needed to get back to your workshop.

Placing the box of paints in the centre of the room, you turned to address the magical cart, which had faithfully followed you every step of the way. Its wooden form creaked softly as it shifted.

"I guess we'll just leave them here for her," you said, turning your attention back to the cart, ready to start unloading its contents. But before you could even begin, the cart suddenly jumped, startling you.

"What in the cauldron!” You exclaimed with a fright, you knew Adon’s inventions could be quirky, but this behaviour was odd– even for him. “What is wrong with you?" you asked, frustration creeping into your voice as you tried to make sense of the cart's erratic behaviour.

Stepping closer to the cart again to try and pry a tool out, it quickly creaked towards the open door, its wooden legs trembling slightly as if hesitant to comply with your command.

As it reached the doorway, it turned to you as if giving you one last glance before quickly running out. The doors slammed shut with a resounding thud, leaving you trapped inside.

You felt the energy of the room shift, the goosebumps rising under your skin. Clutching your arms, you rolled lightly on your feet, trying to dispel the growing unease.

"Feyre... was that you?" You nervously called out with a light laugh, attempting to lighten the tension that had settled in the air. 

Perhaps she was playing a trick on you?

Maybe. But something didn’t feel right, that feeling– that instinct was telling you to leave. Before your feet could carry you towards the shut door a familiar voice broke.

"I'm afraid my beautiful mate isn't here right now," the voice said, sending a shiver down your spine as you recognised it instantly.

You turned slowly towards the voice. "Oh... hello, Rhys," you managed to say, trying to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. "I'm just here to deliver an order... but I'm really sorry, half of it has just run off," you added with a nervous chuckle, gesturing over your shoulder to where the magical cart had disappeared.

As Rhys stepped out from the corner where he had seemingly been concealed by glamour, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Glancing back at the closed door, your nerves spiked even further when you saw Amren standing there, her expression unreadable.

Your instincts screamed at you that this encounter was anything but ordinary. It wasn’t Feyre who had asked you to deliver, you realised, an unsettling feeling sinking in your gut. For a moment, you felt like a deer trapped between her prey.

They had lured you here.

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you found yourself tensing, trying to keep your composure as Rhys and Amren closed in on you. Facing your High Lord, you attuned your senses to Amren, who stood by the door behind you. 

She was blocking it, guarding it, to stop you from leaving.

“I better go retrieve the rest of Feyre’s order,” you smiled lightly, testing where you stood in this. Rhys only half-smiled in return. Amren hadn’t moved from her spot, and you knew there was no way you were getting past her.

“You know, I never would have known. All these years, your family has slipped through the cracks,” Rhys said, walking now, slowly circling you. 

Not entirely true.

Just like Azriel, it was clear Rhys was completely unaware how his own father had used your father in the war.

“Your family did a great job hiding themselves for all these years. Gods, I didn’t even know your kind existed,” he chuckled darkly, his imposing presence exuding an authority you hadn't experienced when you met him among his family and with Azriel prior.

You didn’t reply, only glanced slightly over your shoulder to Amren. She stood stiff, her expression still the same.

“If you had chosen anything other than a spider... well, I wouldn’t have known anything was amiss.” Rhys continued. “What an incy, wincy mistake.” he chided, and you felt your jaw clench at his slight mocking tone.

“You see, around 300 years ago, I put up a ward on River House. For Mor. She hates spiders, detests the creatures, and would beg me to eliminate them from the Night Court altogether. For her birthday one year, I granted her the gift of a particular ward that doesn’t allow them in any of our homes. River House, her apartment, here…” he trailed off, lifting his hands in the air gesturing to the house you were now standing in.

You'd made a grave mistake. The innocent creation of that little spider, once a mere impulsive act, now weighed heavily as regret seeped in. The consequences of that fleeting decision were far greater than you had anticipated. It wasn't necessary; it was merely a childish impulse, a fleeting desire to provoke a reaction from Elain. Yet, that seemingly innocuous choice had now jeopardised everything you held dear. 

The walls you had painstakingly built to protect yourself and the promise you had made to your father were crumbling before your eyes.

"Of course, this isn't widely known, so only Mor and I would have been aware of any intrusions in my home. And well when trying to figure out why this creature was in my home I realised the only new variable in the equation was you" Rhysand explained, his tone laced with a darkness that unnerved you.

“Rhysand…your High Lord, you’ve got this all wrong…” you interjected, stumbling over your words as you desperately tried to change the narrative. Deep down though, you knew that it was too late.

“I wouldn’t have known what you were, but luckily, lovely Amren here clocked onto something too.”

“Your blood,” she spoke flatly, as you recalled the nosebleed that had come after creating your first creation from your mind’s eye. “My senses aren’t as particular as they were before, but when I smelt your blood, I recognised something ancient.”

“You’ve got it all wrong…” you countered, hoping to stall for time while you formulated a plan.

“Oh I don’t believe we do.” Rhys declared. He stood a metre in front of you now, his stature intimidating, and you desperately fought against stepping back. You needed to hold your own, but you were feeling out of your depth. 

Scared, ambushed and outnumbered.

"Your bloodline is rare," Amren remarked, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "And your kind are secretive. I never thought I'd meet one of you in my lifetime."

You remained silent, watching their every move.

But Amren's flat tone cut through the air like a blade. "I believe you're a Glyphic. Or more commonly known, a Veilweaver," she stated matter-of-factly, sending shivers down your spine at the names you hadn't heard yourself be called in centuries.

Rhysand, however, was less intrigued. "You've been living in my court undetected," he accused, his voice laced with irritation. "Deception is not something I take lightly."

Was it the deceit that troubled him more, or the realisation that your powers were beyond his ability to detect?

"I've never caused any problems..." you began, your words faltering as you tried to mount a defence.

"Yet," Rhys interjected sharply, cutting off your protest. His gaze bore into you with an intensity that made you squirm. "Veilweavers are powerful and dangerous," Rhys continued, his tone unwavering. "And I need to ensure you're not a threat to my court—or my brother."

As Rhysand advanced, his talons reached out, probing against your mental defences in an attempt to breach your mind. With every ounce of strength you possessed, you pushed back, feeling the strain of the effort as you fought to keep him out.

They didn't suspect that Azriel knew your secret, a realisation that weighed heavily upon you. What would they do if they discovered he had kept this from them? Azriel, the Spymaster of the Night Court, had always prioritised his court and family above all else. But now, for the first time, there was someone he would choose to protect above all others.

You.

You couldn't allow Rhysand to breach your mind.

Rhys lunged forward, his mental talons clawing at the barriers of your mind, seeking to break your defences. In a moment of desperation and self-preservation, you called forth a creature to defend yourself. 

You reached into the depths of your mind to summon your power, a surge of energy rippled through your being, tingling at your fingertips like electric currents dancing along your skin. In your mind's eye, you saw flashes of vivid imagery, intricate patterns swirling and shifting with ethereal grace. It was as if you were tapping into a hidden realm, a reservoir of ancient magic waiting to be unleashed.

Yet, beneath the awe-inspiring beauty, there was a subtle undercurrent of unease, a whisper of uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. You were standing against your High Lord–your mates brother. 

You had to protect yourself though. Protect your mind, and the secret Azriel had kept from his High Lord.  

In this moment, as you conjured forth your guardian, you pushed aside those doubts. The black sleek panther materialised with a fluid grace, its form exuding strength and determination, a sentinel ready to defend you against any threat.

The air crackled with tension as Rhysand and Amren exchanged a knowing glance, their previous suspicions confirmed by the display of your power. Their expressions shifted, morphing into a mixture of wariness as they assessed the situation before them.

Amren couldn't conceal the faint smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips as she regarded you and the magnificent creature you had summoned. You were exactly what she had suspected, a Glyphic with untapped potential and formidable abilities.

With a menacing growl, your panther confronted Rhysand, causing him to momentarily retract his mental talons. However, his resolve remained steadfast.

"Rhys, please. Can we talk this out?" You pleaded, desperation lacing your words as you locked eyes with him, searching for any glimmer of understanding or mercy. Your heart raced with fear and uncertainty. You didn't want to fight them, didn't want to inflict harm, nor be harmed in return. But above all, you were determined to protect the sanctity of your mind, a territory that was yours alone– and of course protect Azriel.

For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though Rhys's steely gaze softened, a hint of the warmth you had glimpsed in him during your encounters at River House. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by an impenetrable mask.

There was no Rhys here, no. Only the Lord of the Night.

Your hands trembled at your sides, the strain of maintaining your creation evident in every tense muscle of your body. Beads of sweat trickled down your temple, mirroring the intensity of your concentration as you fought to keep your panther strong and fighting. Despite the chaos and danger surrounding you, there was a strange beauty in the powerful presence of your manifestation. If circumstances were different, you might have felt a swell of pride at what you had achieved.

Azriel would be proud too.

Azriel, your mate. Your beautiful mate.

Who you didn’t deserve. 

All you could feel was guilt and despair. The troubles and problems you had brought him, he deserved someone better. Someone like Elain.

Rhys was watching over you. Your heavy breaths, your clenched fists and scared gaze. As much as Rhys may have wanted to extend you the benefit of the doubt, the stakes were too high, the risks too great.

He couldn’t trust your word, he had to know for himself.

Rhysand made another attempt to breach your mind, his talons digging deep in a relentless pursuit. In response, your panther sprang into action, launching itself at Rhysand with a primal ferocity. Yet, before it could reach its target, Rhysand unleashed a surge of magic, sending the panther hurtling across the room with a powerful force.

You shouldn't have been surprised; after all, it was only the second time you had conjured a creature from your mind's eye. Inexperienced in the art of combat, you had never faced such a dire situation before. You were no match for them.

But a small part of you had hoped that maybe your fathers strength was somewhere lingering within you. Just waiting to be unleashed.

You were wrong.

As Rhysand's magic collided with your manifestation, the impact reverberated through your own body like a physical blow. There was a sickening snap as your panther was hurled against the wall, its body twisting unnaturally upon impact. The sound of bone breaking echoed in your ears, and you couldn't suppress a strangled scream as searing pain lanced through your own being.

Tears welled in your eyes as you collapsed to the ground, the pain radiating from your body in pulsating waves. Every breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the bond you shared with the creature now lying broken before you. The panther's breaths synced with yours, while you tried to muster your strength to get it back on its feet.

You recalled the memories of your father's teachings. He had always been your guiding light, imparting his wisdom and cautioning you about the dangers of your power. But after that fateful night, when the darkness had consumed you as a child and birthed a beast of anger, he had grown distant with his knowledge, shielding you from the full extent of your abilities.

That night you created the beast, your father had intervened, severing the connection between you and the creature with a pain that echoed through your very being. It was a harsh lesson, one that left scars emotionally.

In the aftermath, he had spoken of a way to disconnect yourself from your creations' pain, a method that required time and dedication to master. Something you had actively avoided doing because of his promise, you’re not sure if he ever realised how detrimental that promise would end up being for you. 

Your creations were an extension of your own power, their pain intertwined with yours in a delicate dance of symbiosis. Without mastering this crucial aspect of your abilities, you would forever be shackled by the limitations of your own creations.

There was no way to sever yourself from this agony, and you lacked the strength to mend and revive your creation. Your only choice was to sever the bond, and as you did, the magnificent panther dissolved into the air, fading away along with the pain of it’s demise.

"Rhys…" Amren hissed, her hand outstretched in a futile attempt to halt him as she observed how effortlessly Rhys had subdued the formidable beast. They had misjudged the situation entirely. Expecting a powerful force, they were instead faced with you– a broken female, unable to rise to her feet. 

Rhys's expression faltered, his resolve wavering momentarily as he hesitated to approach. But before he could make a move, the room was engulfed in shadow, familiar tendrils enveloping your body and vision. You recognised the cool touch of the shadows attempting to draw you into their embrace.

A tear slipped down your face and you shivered under their whispered kisses. You felt your own shadow curl up by your face to comfort you.

Through the shroud of darkness, Azriel had burst into the room, his presence commanding and protective. With a forceful shove, he knocked Amren off balance and launched himself at Rhysand, the two of them colliding with a resounding crash as they tumbled into the wall in a rough and chaotic struggle.

"I’m going to kill you, Rhys!" Azriel's voice thundered with fury, a darkness in his hazel eyes Rhys had never experienced before.

Taken aback by Azriel's sudden aggression, Rhysand attempted to interject with an explanation, but Azriel silenced him with a swift, powerful punch that connected squarely with his jaw. Rhys staggered backward, his hand flying to his face as he recoiled from the blow.

Azriel surged forward with unparalleled strength, his muscles coiled with the raw intensity of his fury. With a swift motion, he seized his brother by the throat, their bodies rocketing upwards until they collided with the ceiling in a deafening crash. The ancient stone quivered under the force of their impact, dislodging dust and debris.

Rhysand fought against Azriel's grasp, his attempts to explain drowned out by the primal rage burning in his brother's eyes. At that moment, Azriel wanted nothing but retribution.

He wanted blood.

He had felt your panic echoing through the bond, a visceral tug that had torn him away from his duties in the Illyrian camps.

As soon as the sensation had washed over him, he knew something was wrong. His instincts honed in on your distress, guiding him unerringly toward the House of Wind. With Cassian at his side, he had winnowed as close as possible before bursting into the house.

It was the sound of your scream that had pierced through him. Physically and mentally sending a wave of fear through him, turning his blood cold as he raced towards you.

Blood was drawn as shards of stone lacerated the brothers skin, leaving trails of crimson in their wake. Azriel's shadows danced around them, swirling with unrestrained fury as he fought his High Lord.

With a primal roar, Azriel seized Rhysand by the shoulders, his wings beating with a furious rhythm as he drove them both downward. They plummeted toward the unforgiving stone floor, their descent hastened by the force of Azriel's relentless assault.

Rhysand had endured Azriel's onslaught, absorbing blow after blow with a heavy heart. Rhys had refused to retaliate. He couldn't bring himself to harm his own brother, even in the midst of their heated conflict.

Yet, as Azriel's relentless assault continued, Rhysand knew he had to act. With a surge, he summoned his magic, channelling it into a devastating blast that sent Azriel staggering backward.

"I thought she could have been a threat to our court," Rhys began, his voice strained with the weight of his words. He wanted Azriel to understand, to see the danger he believed you posed.

But before he could elaborate further, Cassian burst into the fray, positioning himself between the warring brothers like a stalwart shield. He could see the venom dripping from Azriel's eyes, the sheer intensity of his rage.

"She is not a threat," Azriel spat, his words dripping with conviction.

Rhys opened his mouth to respond, to plead his case once more, but then it clicked. As the realisation dawned on him, it echoed through the chamber like a thunderous revelation. Cassian's expression mirrored his own.

Betrayal.

"You already knew..." Rhys's voice wavered, the sting of betrayal lacing every syllable. His brother had been keeping your secret all along, hiding the truth from him and from his court.

“Of course I knew, brother,” Azriel almost laughed, his tone tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation. “She is my mate.”

“You should have told us,” Rhys growled, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Cassian shot him a warning look, silently urging him to remain calm.

Regardless of what Azriel had withheld, Rhys had caused harm to Azriel’s mate– you. Someone who by the looks of it was completely helpless against him.

“My duty as spymaster is to protect the court. Keeping this from you, doesn't change that,” Azriel growled, his stance unwavering.

As tensions escalated, Rhys and Azriel found themselves locked in a heated exchange. Cassian intervened, pushing them apart before things could escalate further. “You will not fight over this,” Cassian hissed, his voice firm and commanding.

Meanwhile, Amren shook her head in disbelief, a dawning realisation settling over her features. "She is a danger, though," Amren spoke up, her words carrying an unexpected truth. "She's weak," she concluded bluntly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You flinched at the assessment, feeling a pang of insecurity at the criticism. 

Since disolving your creation, the pain had largely subsided, but a dull ache lingered in your head, and your body felt weary and drained. Amren's words rang true. You felt weak, you were weak. Centuries had passed without honing your ability. You were nothing like your ancestors or your father. You weren’t a force to be reckoned with. 

"If a Daemati broke into her mind, took hold of her powers, gods know the chaos that would ensue," Rhysand understood instantly by what Amren warned, his tone grave.

You mulled over their words, the weight of their implications sinking in. Your years of hiding your abilities had left you unprepared and vulnerable, a potential threat to those around you. You had always feared your powers, but now it seemed that your lack of control made you vulnerable to manipulation and exploitation.

Your father had wanted you to lay low, so you wouldn’t be found.But you were now left too weak to defend yourself if someone did want to exploit you.

"Don't think for a second that as soon as others find out she's your mate, that she won't instantly have a target on her back," Rhysand continued grimly. "And if the wrong person realises what she is..."

"We're doomed," Amren finished, her expression grave as she contemplated the dire consequences of your revelation.

As Amren's words sink in, snapping Azriel out of his murderous gaze directed at Rhys, to contemplate what she had just revealed to him.

An oversight on his part. But what Amren had said was true. 

The tension in the room eased slightly, and you feel the shadows enveloping you, aiding you as you rise to your feet. They offer silent support, keeping you steady.

For the first time since entering the room, Azriel's gaze shifts from his brothers to you. His eyes, usually so intense and focused, soften as he takes in your scared and bewildered expression. Without hesitation, he moves away from Rhysand and Cassian, striding purposefully toward you.

As Azriel reaches you, he pulls you into a protective embrace, his wings wrapping around you like a shield. You lean into his comforting presence, feeling the tension drain from your body as his warmth surrounds you. His lips press gently against the top of your head.

In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only you and Azriel locked in an embrace.

"Where are you hurt?" His voice is soft and gentle, filled with genuine concern. You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you. The physical pain may have subsided with the disappearance of your panther, but the emotional turmoil still lingered.

You felt the tears slowly start to roll down your face, and soft cry finally leaving your lips now in the safety of Azriel.

Azriel pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face "It's okay my love" he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "I've got you."

At his reassurance, you lean into Azriel's chest, trying to stifle the cry that wells up inside you. Fear and worry wash over you as you recall the events that led to this moment.

Cassian watches with concern as Azriel comforts you, exchanging a bewildered glance with Rhys, silently questioning how things escalated to this point. Amren's expression remains stoic, but a hint of guilt flickers in her eyes, easily missed if one didn't know where to look.

"I didn't mean for things to escalate this way. We thought... I got it wrong," Rhys spoke, his voice laced with regret as he attempted to bridge the growing chasm between him and his brother.

Azriel's snarl cut through the air, his eyes narrowing with barely contained fury at Rhys's attempts to explain away his actions.

"I want them out," Azriel declared, his tone firm as he turned to Cassian, seeking support in his decision.

Though it was Cassian and Nesta's home, technically no one could demand the High Lord to leave anywhere in his court. Cassian glanced between Rhys and Amren, considering the situation carefully.

"I think it's best you leave for now," Cassian finally agreed, his voice steady as he made the difficult decision to ask Rhys and Amren to depart, at least temporarily, in order to diffuse the tension.

Rhys, though visibly disappointed, nods in acquiescence, understanding the need to de-escalate the situation. Amren's expression remains inscrutable, but she follows Rhys's lead without protest.

As they turn to leave, Rhys casts a lingering glance in your direction, his eyes conveying a mixture of apology and concern. Azriel, still holding you protectively in his arms, watches them go with a steely resolve, his jaw clenched.

Once Rhys and Amren depart, Cassian releases a heavy sigh, the tension in the room easing slightly. He shifts his gaze to you and Azriel, his expression softening with concern.

"Is there anything I can do Az?" he asks, genuine worry etched into his features. Azriel shakes his head, there was nothing Cassian could do to change what had occurred, to fix the damage between Azriel and Rhys. Nothing.

The only thing Azriel knew he could do was make you feel better. So that was his priority.

~~~

As Azriel guides you through the labyrinth of corridors of the House of Wind, the shadows cling to you protectively, reluctant to release their hold as if fearing they may never reunite with you. Eventually, you reach a door that yields effortlessly to Azriel's touch, unveiling a room bathed in gentle, muted light.

The space is expansive yet cosy, its walls cloaked in opulent hues of midnight blue and charcoal grey. The air carries a subtle fragrance of sandalwood and cedar, a scent uniquely Azriel's. Its familiar aroma envelops you, instantly calming your senses.

Against one wall looms a colossal four-poster bed, its imposing ebony frame swathed in cascading layers of sumptuous silk and velvet. The sheer size of it dwarfs your own bed by comparison, a necessity to accommodate those expansive Illyrian wings. Azriel must have been so uncomfortable staying at yours all those nights.

In one corner of the room, a large desk sits bathed in moonlight, its surface cluttered with scrolls, books, and various trinkets. A dimly glowing orb hovers above it, casting a soft glow over the room and illuminating Azriel's meticulous handwriting scrawled across the parchment.

Above his desk, shelves displayed an eclectic assortment of trinkets: a meticulously carved wooden box adorned with intricate designs, an assortment of books—some familiar to you, yet seemingly untouched, while others appeared brand new. 

In one corner, four small jars of paint caught your attention. Your paints. You hadn't realised he had obtained them, and a furrow formed between your brows as you pondered when he might have acquired them. Shadow Serenade, Velvet Veil, Starry Whispers, Nightfall Cries. These were the shades you had created in that first week after the bond had snapped. You remembered how thoughts of the Shadowsigner had consumed you to a point of it channelling out into your work. Each jar held a hue evocative of the Spymaster himself. He of course knew about Shadow Serenade, but how he had come to acquire the other shades you weren’t so sure. 

You pondered if perhaps you had a secret customer in him. The paints shimmered within their glass containers, casting ethereal light across the room.

On the opposite side, a cosy seating area beckons with plush armchairs and a low, velvet-covered chaise lounge. A small fireplace crackles softly in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the room and adding to the room's warm ambiance.

“The bath is ready for you” Azriel spoke, breaking you away from your lingering glances across his room and belongings. “I thought a hot bath would make you feel better” He continued, gently guiding you into his wash room.

A large ornate tub sat in the centre of the room, steam rising from the water nearly to the brim. You noticed the unique shape of the tub, clearly designed to accommodate Azriel's massive wings. 

For a fleeting moment, you imagined what it would be like to share this space with Azriel. 

Bathe with him.

As if reading your mind, your own little shadow curled round your ear.

Ask him to join you.

You instantly blushed at the notion, wafting away the naughty little creation, as you hoped Azriel or his own shadows hadn’t heard.

You swore you heard it giggle before it resumed its quiet chanting of praises towards your mate. But Azriel remained unchanged, his face still etched with concern, his priority seemingly you and your well-being.

"Clothes for you to change into are here," he continued, gesturing towards a set of garments. "I'll be just outside."

Azriel paused, allowing you a moment to take in your surroundings. Your gaze settled on the clothes neatly laid out, an arrangement you assumed was the work of his shadows, before you gave him a small nod of acknowledgment. As he left, closing the door to the washroom behind him, you took a moment to study yourself in the mirror. The reflection revealed tear-stained cheeks and a wearied expression.

Gods, you looked a mess. No wonder Azriel had suggested a wash.

Despite being the one involved in the altercation, he only had a few scratches and dust on his clothing, he still looked as beautiful as ever—strong and defiant. You, on the other hand, looked quite the opposite. As you peeled off your overalls, the fabric clinging to your skin with a thin layer of sweat accumulated during the exertion of your abilities.

You hadn't realised how much you needed a hot bath, but it turned out to be the perfect remedy to wash away the anxieties of what had happened earlier. Sinking your whole body into the warm water, with just enough to keep your nose above the surface, you allowed the hot water to soothe the aches of your body.

You’re not sure how long you stayed there, but regardless of the duration, the water didn’t cool. It was hot and toasty– thanks to the house’s magic you assumed. 

Once you were dry, you slipped into the clothes left on the side for you. It wasn’t until you were halfway through pulling the shirt over your head that you realised it must have belonged to Azriel. The size and the two slits down the back panels designed to accommodate his wings were dead giveaways. The faint scent of his laundry detergent lingered, a comforting familiarity that enveloped you as you dressed. 

Tugging on the loose jersey pants and cinching the drawstring around your waist, another of Azriel’s clothing you assumed. Although you’d never seen him wear something so casual before, and it made you want to see this part of him even more.The thought of a more relaxed Azriel, lounging around his bedroom in sweats with a book in hand, intrigued you. It made you hungry for a version of him you hadn’t experienced yet.

You returned to the bedroom, a sense of calm now settled after your bath. As you moved into the armchair by the fireplace, Azriel approaches with a tray of food in hand. His expression is determined, yet there's a tenderness in his eyes that speaks volumes.

"I want you to eat," he says firmly, his voice tinged with concern. You hesitate, glancing at the tray of food he’s arranged. A hot bowl of soup, with slices of fresh warm bread on the side.

 It smelt delicious.

Plates with slices of cheeses and meats with grapes, and other sliced fruits adorned the tray. It looked delightful, but you weren’t really sure you had an appetite after everything that had happened.

"I don't think I'm hungry," you murmur softly, your gaze dropping to the floor.

"Don't make me force-feed you," Azriel responds, his tone gentle yet firm. Your brows raised slightly at his statement, and he sighed with a soft smile “I’m driving myself crazy here, I just need to know you’re okay. I’ll feel better when I know you’ve eaten something. What you went through…was intense” he admitted, his protective instincts clearly in overdrive.

You nod slowly, understanding his concern, and reluctantly take the plate from the tray. Despite your lack of appetite, you decide that a few spoonfuls of soup won’t hurt. And if it can ease your mate's worry, then you’d do it for him.

Balancing the tray on your lap, you scoop up a spoonful of soup and bring it to your lips. The flavours dance on your tongue, surprisingly rich and satisfying. Despite not feeling hungry just moments ago, the warm, wholesome meal feels comforting and perks your appetite.

Across from you, Azriel settles into his armchair, his gaze unwavering. As you finish the last spoonful of soup and dip a piece of bread into the bowl, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, relief evident in his eyes.

You set the tray back on the low coffee table in front of you, popping a grape into your mouth before finally glancing up at your mate. You hoped to see satisfaction in his expression, a sense of relief that you had nourished yourself enough. However, when you met his gaze, a sadness lurked in his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings.

"I was so scared," he confesses suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I felt your fear through the bond, and then when I heard you scream... I thought I was going to lose you."

His words hung heavy in the air, and your expression dropped as you swiftly moved to comfort your mate. Seeking solace in each other, he drew you closer, pulling you onto his lap with a tender embrace. As he buried his face into the side of your neck, you whispered softly, your voice filled with gratitude, "I would have felt the same if it was you." Your breath caught as you expressed the depth of your emotions. The mere thought of Azriel being hurt, of him being in danger, stirred a visceral reaction within you, a gut-wrenching turmoil. 

The bond that tethered you both together was profound and all-encompassing. You understood, with unwavering certainty, that you would do anything for this male. You would protect him, even at the cost of your own life.

Just as he had threatened Rhys. You would kill for Azriel. And you would also die for him.

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at you, his scarred hand cupping your cheek gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles.

“Thank you” you whispered “For coming for me.”

“Always” He said deeply, your forehead resting against his as you straddled him.

Your lips naturally found their place on his. A kiss quickly deepened at the raw magnitude of what had happened today. The fear Azriel had experienced, the dread of losing you, had gripped him with a relentless force. He never wanted to face that possibility.

Despite the truth in Amren's words, acknowledging your vulnerabilities and limitations, at this moment, all Azriel desired was to cherish what he feared he might have lost.

There was an unspoken understanding, a silent exchange echoing down the bond, as you felt Azriel's desperation and the depth of his fear. You longed to assuage his anxiety, to offer him solace and reassurance.

Pulling back slightly from the kiss, your breaths mingling in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Azriel regarded you with darkened hazel eyes, silently anticipating your next move. A familiar look passed between you, one laden with unspoken desire that had lingered unexplored until now. With a gentle touch, you took his hand and guided him to his bed, wordlessly conveying your intentions as you led him to his plush sheets.

Azriel bit back a low guttural growl, watching as you climbed onto his bed.

You lay on his bed, draped on his sheets, wearing his clothes. It was an image he wanted to etch into his memory forever.

“There’s never been any pressure, no expectations,” he whispered, standing at the side as if seeking reassurance of your intentions.

No expectations.

He had promised you that after the bond snapped, and he had stayed true to his word. Always the gentleman, never pressuring you. Always moving at your pace.

“I know Azriel” you breathed, in a way that spoke of permission.

Azriel took a breath, steadying himself as he comprehended the significance of your invitation before climbing over you. He hovered over you, settling his weight above, his presence reassuring and protective. Your head sank into the plush pillows beneath, and he moved over you with a predatory grace.

“I was so worried I was going to lose you today…” he breathed. Your hand had come to caress the side of his neck, pulling his face closer to you.

 “There was a moment I realised too that if I lost you today…” You were watching him, as his desire filled eyes turned darker “I would have lost you without ever having the chance to taste you”

His confession sent a shiver down your spine, goosebumps covering your body under his clothes you were wearing. Your nipples perked at his words, rubbing against the fabric.

“Then thank the cauldron you didn’t lose me…” You breathed playfully back, your face hot at his words. He let out a low laugh.

“Thank the cauldron indeed” He purred, leaning in to press his lips against yours. His lips slowly move down your neck, leaving flushed kisses on your skin. His fingers tugged at his shirt on you, hastily unbuttoning the black material till your breasts were exposed to him.

You thought you saw him almost choke on his breath at the sight.

His hazel eyes lighting with glint you hadn’t seen before.

“You are beautiful my love” he breathed, his voice husky with desire. The sound of his words made your heart race, the intensity of his gaze causing a surge of heat to pool in your core.

Azriel's lips trailed down from your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. As he reached your exposed breasts, he hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, seeking permission. The air crackled with anticipation as you nodded, giving him silent consent.

His touch was gentle yet possessive as he cupped your breast in his scarred large hand, his thumb grazing over your nipple. A soft gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, and Azriel's eyes darkened with desire. Leaning down, he placed a heated kiss on each of your peaks, his tongue flicking out to tease before sucking gently.

You bit your lip lightly, to try and compose any sound that dared leave your lips.

“Don’t be shy my love, I want to hear you” Azriel smirked slightly, as he watched your lips then part with his words. A breathy moan escaping your lips.

Azriel could feel his own heat rush to his member, it was hard and pressing tightly against his trousers, but he continued on. Trailing kisses lower down your body, his breath hot against your skin. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a hunger that had been simmering between you both.

You’re not sure how you had resisted for so long. You had felt the desire mounting with every kiss you had shared before, and now you hated yourself a little for depriving yourself of this.

You could feel his rough fingers tugging at the drawband of your pants, slowly pulling them down over your hip bone. He looked at you one last time before completely removing them, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Lying exposed beneath him, you could feel his eyes devouring every inch of your naked body. He was mesmerised by every crevice, curve, freckle, and scar that marked your skin. Grateful to have you, he couldn't help but touch and explore you - his mate, completely and utterly his.

His gaze lingered over your slick folds, glistening with a wetness that was just for him. The scent of you drove him wild, though he had only experienced it a few times before during those intimate moments that always finished too early. It took all of his self-control not to ravish you then and there.

But now, he could. You had given yourself to him in this way, completely and utterly his. His hazel eyes lingered for another moment, a softness in his gaze as he admired your flushed face. Hair sprawled beneath your head.

You had a coy look in your eyes, being so vulnerable and open in front of him. Azriel was grateful you trusted him enough for this, he was going to cherish every moment.

His fingers traced the curve of your hip, you arched your back, inviting him closer. A low growl rumbled in his chest as his gaze locked with yours, promising that this was just the beginning. With a predatory grace, he leaned down and placed a soft, warm kiss on your inner thigh. 

You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as his lips continued to travel lower, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake.

His fingers danced over your flesh, tracing the delicate lines of your thighs, his touch feather-light as he explored every inch. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly that at one point you felt as though that was all you could hear.

You were sure he could sense your arousal through the bond, and you almost sent a begging plea down the thread for him to touch you.

With a playful glint in his eyes, as if understanding, his lips finally reached their destination, your core. You felt a wave of intensity wash over you. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan that quickly left your lips, as his tongue danced across your sensitive flesh. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, allowing him complete access.

Azriel's tongue dipped into you, savouring the taste of you, his eyes never leaving yours. You arched your back, your nails digging into the pillow beneath you as his tongue probed deeper, coaxing a soft cry from your lips.

Azriel wanted to hear that cry more. Every day, at any moment he could get. He wanted to hear those sounds leave your lips. A sound he would never tire of.

The pleasure built, a fierce storm of emotion that threatened to consume you whole. Your heart pounded wildly, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as his tongue stroked and teased.

He plunged his fingers inside you, filling you completely. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming, causing you to cry out his name.

“Azriel…oh Az…”

When he heard his name leave your lips he had to stop himself from cumming at the sound. He was completely drunk on the taste and smell of you, that the sound of you almost sent him over the edge.

Azriel's fingers moved in and out of you, in a rhythm that was both possessive and tender. His thumb brushed against your most sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He was coaxing you to climax, and you could feel the tension building inside you, like a coiled spring about to release.

Your body responded to his touch, the muscles of your core clenching and releasing around his fingers. Your fingers were tangled in his dark hair, flexing and pulling with every clench of your core. Your breaths grew shallower. You could feel the orgasm building, a powerful wave crashing towards you, threatening to consume you whole.

And then, just as you thought you couldn't take any more, he withdrew his fingers and began to lap at your core, his tongue darting and flicking against you. The pleasure was almost too much, each lick and suck driving you closer and closer.

“That’s it angel, let go for me” Azriel spoke between each lick, choosing now to try a new nickname for you.

With a cry of pure ecstasy, you finally reached the peak, your body convulsing as the orgasm washed over you. Your moans and cries were loud, and they felt like music to Azriel’s ears. You could feel his fingers on your hip, his thumbs stroking your skin, and the heat of his lips as he continued to pleasure you as you rode out your orgasm.

As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, he purred, sending vibrations through your core. "You taste amazing,"

You breathed out, a tone filled with lust .”I want to taste you too…” Azriel growled at the thought and pressed his hardness against the mattress.

"Not today, my love. Today, I just want to make you feel good." Despite your attempt to shake your head, his lips reattached themselves to your sensitive bud, sucking lazily and sending shivers down your spine. It felt too good for you to resist or challenge him. 

You lost count of the number of times Azriel made you climax; his name had been moaned for what seemed like hours before exhaustion started to take over. He slowly made his way back up your naked body, his eyes devouring every curve before settling on yours with a tender gaze. He laid beside you, pulling the sheets over your exposed body and pulling you into a tight embrace. 

Soft kisses were pressed to your temple as sleep began to overtake you. 

"I will thank the cauldron every day for allowing you to be mine."

~~~

Next Part >> Hopefully before the end of the month

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #naughty little shadows #azriel fluff #fluff #azriel smut #smut

[auraworkshop]

I ENTERED THE VOID

Through a lucid dream 🎀 !!

HOLY MOLY...shit ??

Okay so, I would like to start off by saying a big THANKYOU to Aura :)

Aura? Do you have any idea how powerful your lucid dreaming sub is ?? 😭 You sub literally gave me the vividest ( idk if that's a word or not lmao ) lucid dream I ever had.

I slept with your sub playing in the background when I woke up, o relized I was in a dream, A LUCID DREAM?!? 😭 It was surreal. It was so freaking vivid like it was more real than the real world 💀 In the past I have tried countless methods like WILD, WBTB, MILD etc. and never had such vivid dream that your sub gave me.. I'm literally being honest here 😭<3

Okay so after that, Without wasting a literal second I fell down so that I would end up in the void, but unfortunately it didn't work idk why, maybe I did it wrong or something but then I asked a stranger in my dream to take me to the void. They literally pushed me so hard and I fell into a dark place, YEAHhhhHh IT WAS THE VOID.

It truly felt like heaven !

Gonna mention few things that I affirmed for :

- IMMORTALITY

- GOOD HEALTH AND PHYSICAL PRESENTATION

- GOOD IMMUNE SYSTEM AND NATURAL DEFENSES

- NO DISEASE FOR LIFETIME

- POSITIVE ATTITUDE AND MOOD DESPITE THE CHALLENGES

- ENERGY, JOY AND VIBRANCY

- FEELING OF INVINCIBILITY AND PEACE OF MIND

- DESIRED PHONE, JOB, HOME, FRIENDS, DF, DB, WARDROBE, WHOLE APPERANCE

- TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE

- RELATIONSHIP

- MONEY

- PRINCESS TREATMENT

- LIL CLUMSY

- FEW CUTE HABITS

- ALL THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD

- EVERYONE'S CRUSH

- CHANGED BIRTHDAY, NAME, AGE

A piece of motivation for y'all :

It's not over until you win and yes, you could fail but you are not giving up GOT that? You will succeed and that's it PERIOD

And lastly "BE STRONGER THAN YOUR EXCUSES"

Just gonna deactivate now, and live my life. 🎀

SUCCESS STORY ♡

I am so very happy and proud of you. And yes, I designed the sub to be as powerful as possible, although I did tone it down a little bit because I was actually afraid I may make it too powerful in a way.

Your experience sounds incredible and I'm happy to know that I was a part of your journey.

I love your list !! ENJOY YOUR LIFE with those manifestations of yours <3

And I loving the energy, motivation and positivity from this message, I believe the last part of your ask will motivate a lot of people.

I also want you all to know that just be sure to always continue and never give up. Remember that your power is far greater than any circumstance or challenge you may be facing. You are a winner, a victor, and you are living your ideal life no matter what. You are always living the life you wish for, the question you have left to answer is whether or not you are aware of that fact. You can and will do it, there is no other possibility ! 🤍

Here's the LUCID DREAMING SUB they used

#void #void state #void success #void state success story

[wheeboo]

dandelion | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which healing is a treacherous process, but when it's with you, seungkwan knows he will be okay. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort (we comfort boo), established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, terms of endearment, lil talk abt marriage at the end WORD COUNT. 1.7k

notes: wanted to write a lil something for him after he released dandelion and it only took a v small crying sesh for me to finally write it 😭😭

It's the first time in a long time you wake up without your boyfriend right next to you.

A few groggy groans escapes your lips, followed by a sharp gasp at the sudden rush of cool air meeting your skin when you sit up in bed. Your fingers curl tightly around the blanket, blinking away the dryness to your eyelids as you turn to peer outside the bedroom window.

The world still seems wrapped in a cloak of sleep, yet you spot a faint, ethereal glow peaking through the curtain of morning. A mix of a soft lavender and the faintest blush of a rose pink bleeds across the horizon, gently pushing back the remaining shadows of the night. It's a heartwarming sight to wake up to, but the warmth doesn't seep into your bones as much as it does when Seungkwan is right next to you.

Where had he gone anyway? He didn't text you if he had went anywhere, and it was still too early for him to be going to work.

Letting out a sigh, you swing your legs over, hissing slightly when the cold floor meets your bare feet, while still clutching the blanket around you like a makeshift cape. You pad across the wooden floor and head out of the bedroom, your mind still clutching to the hands of sleep as a yawn leaves you.

The living room is bathed in a soft, early morning light, its usual vibrancy appearing mute. The silence felt too heavy, devoid of the gentle snores and soft murmurs of endearment that usually accompanied your mornings. It's been like this for some time, and you don't really mind the quietness, but it does feel different.

As your feet drag you in the direction of the kitchen, you spot some movement in the corner of your eye. Your gaze trails towards the sliding door that led out to the apartment balcony, and that's where you spot him𑁋Seungkwan, bundled up in a comfortable set of baby blue pyjamas and hoodie, his back facing you with his phone held up high towards the sky. As you watch him for a few moments, you see the way he tilts his head slightly, trying to capture the picturesque sky on his phone screen.

The sight of him brings a familiar warmth to bloom inside your chest, chasing away the remnants of the chill that had settled on your skin. You quietly approach the door, lingering contemplatively for a few moments to simply watch your boyfriend. Seungkwan appears caught in a spell at the sight of the sky, his brow furrowed in concentration, and a hint of colour nipping at his cheeks from the cold, yet his shoulders seem relaxed for the first time in weeks.

Hesitantly, you slowly slide the door open, wincing at the cold that immediately gnaws at whatever exposed skin you had. When you fully step onto the balcony, you close the door behind you, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"Kwannie?" You call out sleepily.

Seungkwan jumps slightly at the sound of your voice, his phone coming back down to his side as he turns around with widened eyes. The soft morning light bathes his face, highlighting the remnants of sleep and a hint of lingering worry in his features. However, as his eyes wash over the sight of you all bundled cutely and sleepily in your blanket, it brings a flicker of warmth to his lips.

"What are you doing out here so early?" You ask softly, approaching him cautiously.

An embarrassed flush creeps up his neck as he mumbles under his breath, "Couldn't sleep."

A faint, understanding smile crosses your face, the worry in your heart dissipating slightly.

"I'm sorry, love," You reply, gesturing towards the balcony railing. "Mind if I join you?"

Seungkwan only nods, his gaze flickering back to the breathtaking canvas of colours spread across the sky. You step closer, keeping a respectful distance, and lean against the railing beside him. The silence returns, but this time it's not heavy, seemingly carrying a quiet hope for the new day dawning ahead.

"I wanted to try something new," he starts tentatively. "and I heard that watching the sunrise and getting fresh air could help clear your head, so I thought... maybe it would help me, too."

You turn towards him, tilting your head slightly, admiring the way the thin threads of sunlight catches in his hair, like there's a halo of soft gold surrounding him.

"Has it been working so far?" You ask gently, voice barely a whisper.

Seungkwan chuckles quietly and turns to meet your eyes. Admittedly, it's been helping so far; somehow, his mind feels a lot more clearer, his heart a bit lighter, but it's especially apparent when he gets to share these moments with you. Maybe you're secretly part of the reason that the sunrise feels so hopeful right now, or that the world feels a little brighter this morning. Then again, when do you not have that power?

"I think so. It's... really healing being out here," he replies with a hint of a smile, gaze lingering on you for a moment before returning to the sunrise. His voice is quiet when he adds on, "Especially now that you're here."

Your eyes widen slightly at his words, the warmth in your chest blooming even further. The silence between you remains comfortable, punctuated only by the soft chirping of birds waking up and stirring in the distance. You steal another glance at Seungkwan, noticing the way his eyes are glued to the sky, yet the corners of his lips are turned upward. He's so beautiful.

Stepping closer to him, you wrap your blanket around his shoulders as well and pull him lightly into your side. Seungkwan lets out a gasp of surprise, a wave of concern seeping into his face.

"You're cold, honey," he points out worriedly.

"It's okay," You interrupt, voice soft but firm as you adjust yourself so that you're standing behind him, letting your arms wrap around his waist comfortably. "I don't mind sharing."

The corners of Seungkwan's lips tug upwards when you snuggle closer to him. He leans back slightly, his head finding a comfortable resting place nestled against yours. A sigh of contentment escapes him, the sound warming you more than any blanket could.

"You didn't... have to come all the way out here for me," Seungkwan mutters quietly, voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for making you worried and keeping you up."

You rest your head atop his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking in his familiar scent of closeness.

"You know I can't fall asleep without you," You whisper reassuringly, fingers absently tracing patterns on his hoodie. "But I'd rather be out here with you than warm and cozy inside without you. And worrying about you... it's kind of my job, isn't it?"

A low hum of agreement leaves him, vibrating soundly against your embrace.

There's a certain pressure that Seungkwan feels in his chest, but it doesn't feel suffocating like all the days before. Perhaps it's the weight of the world, or maybe it's just the comfort of having you so close that fills up his heart to the brink of overflowing. It's almost as if he can breathe, like he can float without worrying about falling because you'll be there to catch him. Whatever it is, it feels right𑁋it always has when it's with you.

He can feel your heart beating steadily against his back, with each breath that you take a gentle reassurance that you're there, and that you're real. And with the world still half-asleep as the colours of dawn paint the sky, Seungkwan finds himself feeling more alive than he has in a long time, like a dandelion freely dispersing its seeds into the vastness of the sky.

"Do you want me to leave you alone now?" You ask a bit hesitantly, softly, knowing that he also needs his own space to think as well. "I can go cook some breakfast for us and make some coffee for you? I know you're working later."

The thought of work makes Seungkwan's shoulders slump in slight disappointment, but he knows he should be going back and adjust back into his regular rhythm of life. He turns his head to look at you, a grateful look to his face despite the fatigue lingering in his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," he mutters, yet as you uncurl your arms from around him, he stops you. "Wait. Can I..."

He stops mid-sentence, finding himself just standing there as you peer at him, waiting for him to continue. Gosh, he doesn't know why or how you always seem to make him so nervous, so small, even though you're the one wrapped up in blankets looking all adorable and pretty yourself.

He feels his cheeks burn at the stupid question swirling around him. So instead of just asking, he steps forward, closing the short distance between the two of you. Your eyes widen in surprise, but before you can utter a word, he leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

It's brief and quick, but enough to send a jolt of warmth coursing through both of you. And when Seungkwan pulls back, you catch the way his head drops to the floor, and a smirk makes its way onto your face.

"Boo Seungkwan," You call out his name almost dramatically. "Were you just about to ask to kiss me?"

Seungkwan just shrugs, fighting the embarrassment crawling up his neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"We've been together for literal years, and you still get shy about asking for a kiss?" You tease, letting a finger playfully tap his nose.

Seungkwan playfully bats your finger away, a genuine laugh escaping his lips for the first time that morning, and it brings a jump to your heart.

"Well, I..." He scratches the back of his neck bashfully. "I don't think I'll ever not be shy around you, you know..."

If it's possible for your heart to burst, then that's what probably sends that giddy feeling to course up your veins and a grin so wide it threatens to split your face in two.

"You're so damn cute," You say, leaning back in and placing another kiss to his lips. "When we get married, I'm writing in my vows that I promise to always tease you about this until the day I die."

Seungkwan lets out a choked laugh. "Marriage? Is that what I think you just said?"

A playful smile dances on your lips.

"Maybe," You drawl simply, enjoying the way his expression seems to fluster up even more. "But that's a conversation for another day, isn't it?"

Seungkwan blinks in surprise. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to escape him as he searches your eyes and the silly grin to your face for any hint of a joke. When he finds none, he lets out a nervous chuckle, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Yeah," he murmurs shyly. "It is."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @rozisisme @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan fic #boo seungkwan imagines #boo seungkwan fluff #boo seungkwan x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt fic

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel’s Reaction to You Taking Him to Watch The Barbie Movie

Warnings: Mainly Just Miguel Being Defensive, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Miguel Secretly Being a Barbie Girl, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Miguel loves you. So, so much. And he would move Heaven and Earth to ensure even an ounce of your happiness.

However, he is 100% convinced that this excursion, this ‘girls’ day out’, will be anything more than a mind-numbing jaunt to the cinema.

At first.

He can’t deny that his heart sank and all enthusiasm he held for your date drained from his body the second you said the words ‘Barbie’ and ‘Movie’ in the same sentence.

But alas, he swallowed his dismay and took you out, plastering on a thin smile while he thought of a million and one things you could both be doing besides watching this masterclass in colour theory.

Sat beside you, packed in on either side by yourself and the many other attendees, waiting for the film to begin, Miguel can feel his patience trying to escape, trying to convince him to run, to get out while you still can!

Because of his heightened senses, he can hear every single word passing between the crowd. And with every mention of “Pink”, “Ryan Gosling,” and “Margot Robbie!” he can feel his mind numb.

The film starts. And for you, sending a watery smile your way, while your eyes sparkle with nostalgic wonder, he endures.

Five minutes in, Miguel is assaulted by pink. The very essence of the colour and all its vibrancy sends hot pink pain through his skull, his senses raw.

Quietly, he slips his sunglasses on.

This is going to be a long movie.

And, for the first quarter of the film, Miguel held that notion. Near and dear as if it were the antidote to the current situation.

Then, halfway in, the story started to intrigue him.

The colour scheme is…tolerable now. Even pleasing to the eye in some scenes.

And, dare he say, Miguel found the music to be catchy.

Two thirds in and he’s sat forward in his seat, hands clasped and his lips resting atop them. Not that you can see, but his eyes are blown wide, his mind arace with possible outcomes.

By the end of the film, Miguel’s holding your hand, forehead pressed to your shoulder, a single, silent tear illustrating his cheek.

“Miggy?” you say, leaning over to try and see his face. You recognised the singular jutting of his shoulders immediately. And, with a smile teetering on the edges of your lips, you try to console him.

“Mig–”

“S’nothing. M’fine,” His cut-off is blunt and non-negotiable. You drop the subject and escort him from the screening by his arm, the music bright as the credits roll. The dimness of the room gives way to light, gradually, slowly. The streak of Miguel’s tear glistens.

Miguel’s visceral reaction to Barbie’s movie doesn’t stop when you get home, by the way.

It actually gets worse.

If you’re lucky, you can catch Miguel reading articles on his phone, an unmistakably pink banner and the title of ‘Top 10 Things You Missed in The Barbie Movie!’ leaving little to the imagination.

Confronting him about it will lead you nowhere. Miguel will sooner shove his phone up his ass and pretend it never existed than admit that he is indeed curious as to what happened to that one background character who fell off a cliff in that one scene. Is she okay? Does anybody know where she is? Does her family know?

The fact that you find his curiosity (empathy) endearing, ‘Aww’ing at him and pinching his cheeks, makes him ever the more secretive.

Just about secretive enough to keep his volume to a minimum when he’s singing; tunes which you know are from the soundtrack.

“I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world~”

“Babe, what was th–”

“Nothing.” He’s blunt, but there is haste to his tone. Shame, even.

Occasionally, you’ll see him eyeing up Barbie-themed merch when you’re out shopping. But he never makes a move to purchase any. Not for himself, anyway.

He’ll buy you said merch – anything that catches your eye, your fancy. Even if it is a shirt ten sizes too big.

“Babe,” you say, pinching the shirt up at your shoulders, the fabric in enough excess to cause the neck to expose most of your chest. “I may be wrong here, but I’m fairly certain only you would be able to fit in this shirt.”

“Oh, well, guess I’ll just have to take it off your hands, then,” he says, his elation barely concealed behind his faux-disappointment. As if him doing so is a chore – that he’s doing you the favour by taking the garment whose shoulders could only fit his insane proportions.

Please just buy him the merch. Any shame he may feel upon initially receiving it will fade when he realises – when you reinforce – how his liking of Barbie is “Adorable, yes. But uplifting; it’s so relieving to see that you’ve found something you actually like that isn’t to do with the Spiderverse!”

“It’s actually called the–”

“Yeah, I don’t care, Babe.”

His favourite present you ever got him was a brightly-coloured exercise suit Barbie and Ken wore in the movie. He had to turn away, the fabric neon in his periphery, tears filling his eyes and balling in his throat when he saw that you’d bought a matching one.

“So we can fight crime in style!”

Miguel’s watery smile twitched, faltered. His Brow furrowed.

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” he said. “You don’t think my suit’s fashionable?”

The way your face drained was enough to spark laughter in Miguel’s chest. His only line of defence against the tears that pricked his throat, played him like an instrument, with you as the orchestra’s master.

While he can’t wear the suit out on superhero duty, he does keep the headband on beneath the suit.

A reminder of you when he’s throwing himself at every threat, every monster, every evil, the band a halo hugged to his skin; a slim substitute for your warm touch, your scent, but a reminder all the same.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

#miguel ohara #barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman astv #spider verse

[perlelune]

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A smile blooms on your lips as you watch Tilly play hopscotch with her friend near the street. Snow’s melted enough this morning to be able to draw chalk patterns on the cobblestones. The young girl woke up excited to enjoy the day. And while you’re nowhere as thrilled, seeing the joy and life return to her gaze is more than enough for you. 

The little girls’ buoyant laughs fill the street and you let yourself bask in the moment. It’s rare that you get time to yourself lately.  Your shifts at the factory take up most of your time. And you’ve been spreading yourself thin, hoping to keep concerns at bay by remaining busy. White wisps surround you as you blow a long breath. You readjust your scarf and rub your gloved hands. Cold air seeps through the tiny holes in your gloves. You’ll need to stay after hours on your next shift to mend them. Perhaps you could even purloin enough throwaway remnants of wool to make Tilly a new pair. She’ll soon outgrow hers.

Besides, her health might have improved for now, but you never stop worrying about her catching another cold, one that might be deadlier than the last.

Lost in contemplation, you draw a sharp breath when an object drops from the sky onto your lap. Your eyes widen as you lower them. A pair of knitted gloves rests in your lap. They’re clearly brand new and the wool quality is unlike anything you’ve ever laid eyes on. You can tell from the thickness and vibrancy of the twining threads. You’re tempted to give it a brush with your fingertips, revel in the warmth oozing from the fabric. But you refrain.

“I don’t want that,” you snap, whipping your head up.

A towering, lanky frame clad in the peacekeeper’s signature blue uniform fills your sight. 

You toss the gloves at him and he catches them with a deep sigh. He sits near you on the steps. The hairs on the back of your neck bristle with his proximity, his broad shoulder grazing yours as he turns to study you.

You shiver as his gaze runs along your frame. You don’t look at him. You don’t want to. You’ve done your best to forget about him these last few weeks, even if his ever-lurking presence is hard to ignore. Whatever you do, wherever you are, he’s never hovering too far away.

He seizes your hands, forcefully slipping the gloves on your frostbitten fingers.

“Come on, you’re freezing,” he says. Your lips tighten as you meekly comply. Arguing with the peacekeeper has never worked in your favor. So why even try? You let him put the gloves on you, cursing the comfort you feel when the warm fabric hugs your fingers. An absent thought drifts in your head as you admire the wool. You never owned anything this nice. The quality evokes the clothes that usually head straight to the Capitol.

All the nice things go to them first while District dwellers beg for scraps.

Coriolanus leans back, his large hands spreading over his knees. His stance is far too relaxed for your taste and you shrink further on your side of the narrow stairs. 

As his icy blue orbs settle on your cousin and her friend, you tense.

“She seems to be doing well. I’m assuming the medicine helped,” he notes, smugness oozing from his words. His attention scorches your skin as you pointedly evade his stare. You loathe the satisfaction he draws from this. More leverage to use against you. More opportunities to make you feel small, helpless.

“What are you doing here?” you curtly ask.

His small chuckle makes your stomach coil.

“Is this any way to greet a friend?” His tone becomes light, playful. “Especially one that comes bearing gifts?” 

Your brows knit. “Friends…”

Hot air tickles your earshell as he bends over you, whispering, “The closest of friends.”

Your heart skips a beat.

He grabs your chin, angling your face towards his. A shuddered breath leaves your lips as stark blue eyes drink you in. “Really birdie, not even a smile? Come now.”

You nudge a tremulous smile onto your lips. 

His thumb grazes your trembling bottom lip as his mouth twists skyward. “Better,’ he praises quietly.

A winning glint sways in his eyes and your stomach lurches. 

“Hi!”

Tilly’s cheerful voice shatters the moment. Coriolanus releases you and relief billows inside your chest. 

He beams at the young girl, replying in a similar tone, “Hi.”

Your young cousin bounces on her feet, excitement rounding her gaze as she admires  the peacekeeper. Your frown deepens at the exchange.

“I’m Tilly,” she announces solemnly, offering her hand to shake.

Coriolanus laughs as he takes it, mirth lighting up his handsome face.

“I know. I know all about you.” A mix of shock and awe decorates the young girl’s features with that information, as if the peacekeeper knowing anything about her was the most extraordinary thing in the world. “I’m a friend of your cousin. My name’s Coriolanus.”

“Coriolanus,” she repeats, as if mesmerized by the sound of his name alone.

“Here. I have something for you,” he says. 

He reaches inside the pocket of his uniform and pulls out a bag. Your cousin jumps, her eyes sparkling with joy when he hands it to her.

“Candy!” she exclaims. 

Your face pinches at the sight of the colorful sweets in the bag. These aren’t easy to acquire. 

“Tilly…”

“What?”

The young girl’s expression is dejected as she looks at you, almost like she can sense your disapproval and is preparing to return the gift. Your shoulder sag. You don’t have it in you to refuse her this small sliver of delight. 

You shake your head and smile.

“Nothing.” You hunker in front of her. “We should go back inside.”

“But I want to play…” she pouts.

“You have chores. And Coriolanus…” Your eyes lift to him. Amusement hasn’t left his expression. “is very busy.”

He doesn’t say anything as you shove your cousin inside the house. He lingers by the door and you fidget beneath his heavy stare.

“I’m guessing you have…somewhere to be.”

His gaze drags over you as a small smile dances on his lips.

“Yes, I hear I’m very busy,” he teases. Shock fills you when he leans to brush his mouth against your cool cheek. “See you soon, birdie,” he mumbles, his deep voice making your stomach flutter.

You’re relieved when he finally leaves. You chase away the peculiar sensation his closeness sparked as you shut the door.

You don’t get time to collect yourself,  your little cousin immediately asking, “Is he your boyfriend?”

The pitch of your voice goes high with shock. 

“What? Are you crazy?”

Tilly frowns. “But I saw him kissing you.”

Heat nestles in your cheeks. Maybe from an outsider’s perspective, Coriolanus’ closeness could be misinterpreted, the peacekeeper perpetually crowding your space despite your reluctance. Still, you can’t believe it’s what the little girl thinks from looking at the two of you. 

It couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Every fiber of your being burns with hatred for him.

“No, we weren’t. It wasn’t…” you sputter, your embarrassment cresting as the excitement in your cousin’s eyes doesn’t dwindle. “He wasn’t kissing me. We were just talking.”

“About girlfriend and boyfriend stuff,” she insists. 

You sigh. You approach her and grip her shoulders. 

“Tilly, I need you to promise me something.”

She blinks up at you. “Yes?”

You crouch before her so you’re at eye level. 

“You need to stay away from peacekeepers.”

She purses her mouth, glancing down at the bag of candy.

“Yes, but Coriolanus…he was nice to me.”

Your stomach sinks.

“Well, Coriolanus isn’t like the others.”

She nods in understanding. You’re glad she doesn’t ask any further questions. You wouldn’t know how to begin to explain your relationship with him.

Not in any way that makes sense at least.

For a fortnight, you don’t see much of him. You bask in the tranquility of your usual routine, going back and forth, from home to work, and preparing to celebrate the end of the year with your cousin. It won’t be lavish, of course, but you’re hoping to save up enough from your wages to get Tilly a teddy and perhaps even a toy this year.

While most of your family has passed away, you want to cherish the things you still have. Perhaps you can even create new memories for your cousin, happier memories. She has been bedridden for months now and it’ll be the first holiday she’ll get to truly enjoy as a healthy, normal child. 

He appears again as you’re working your usual shift, casually switching places with another guard. While you pointedly avoid looking in his direction, you feel the weight of his unwavering eyes, watching you as always.

Still, you diligently weave the silk on your loom. Your attention cannot stray. One mistake and the fabric will be ruined. 

“Your shadow’s there,” Yara notes from her station right next to yours.

Your eyes flick upward briefly as you nod.

“Yeah.”

Silence hangs in the air a while before your friend speaks again.

“It doesn’t seem to bother you that much.”

You shrug. “I’m getting used to it.”

Her eyes land on the gloves peeking from the pocket of your long skirt.

“By the way, I meant to ask…Is that from him?”

You hesitate a little before begrudgingly admitting, “Yes.”

She moves her head in acknowledgement. 

“I see, gifts now.”

Stepping on the treadle to slow down the motion of your loom, you snap your head to Yara.

There was something in her tone just then, an implication you didn’t like.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head and scoffs, “It’s just interesting, is all.”

“My hands were cold,” you defend.

“You could have thrown them away. I made my own. It’s what we do every year. Make our own.” Her gaze locks with yours. Licking her lips, she seems to mull over something before she asks,  “Is there something going on between you two? I mean other than what I already know.”

Your face grows hot.

“There is nothing.”

She studies you for a few minutes before turning her focus back to her loom.

“Right,” she says.

Your annoyance mounting, you give the treadle a vigorous push and start weaving faster.

You let your friend’s prickly comments fade somewhere in the back of your mind. You have no desire to explore this dangerous line of thought any further. 

There is indeed nothing going on between you and the peacekeeper. You keep repeating it to yourself as your fingers assemble the threads as if your life depended on it. 

It helps you ignore the way your blood races in your veins.

Relief fills you when your shift ends. Tension built in your body and firmly remained since Yara began questioning you. You can still feel it in the stiffness in your limbs, the heaviness in your chest. You make haste as you dart across the hallways, eager to return home.

Your escape is halted by a pair of strong arms pulling you in a dark corner of the factory. 

You look up at him through wide eyes. That teasing smile you’ve grown all too familiar with decorates his lips.

“Why the rush, sweet bird?”

“Coriolanus…” You step back from him. “Can’t you just leave me be, just once?”

He approaches you, forcing you to shrink against the wall. He cages you, his hands on each side of you as he drinks you in. You dip your head, overwhelmed with the scent of roses washing over you. 

“I can’t actually.” Warmth swirls in your belly as his tone lowers. “Look at me.” He puts two fingers below your chin to angle it upward. His eyes narrow. “You’re upset.”

“Just had a long day,” you elude with a shrug. 

He scrutinizes you. Your mouth quakes, his silence unnerving you. 

After some time, he finally announces, “I’m getting discharged soon.”

“Oh, where?”

“I’m getting sent back to the Capitol.”

You gape at him. That’s not what you expected to hear. Though you surmise it makes sense, with him being around less. A strange mix of feelings surges inside your chest. But mostly, relief, freedom. You’ll be able to breathe properly again, without the uneasy attention of the peacekeeper tailing you everywhere you go. 

Though you try not to let your emotions show. You give a tilted smile.

“Isn’t that a good thing? You get to go home, return to your life.”

His knuckles sweep over the apple of your cheek. 

“Well…I’ll miss some things about District 8.”

You clear your throat. “I should get back home.”

“Meet me tonight,” he says bluntly. 

“What for?”

His eyes darken, running over your trembling frame. His thumb skims over your bottom lip.

“I’m leaving. We should celebrate, just the two of us.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You truly hoped to avoid…colliding with the peacekeeper again, in any way, but you suppose it was inevitable. One way or another, he’d have asked for more of you, simply because he could. Your fate is in his hands after all. He could easily make your life here hell just by whispering in the right ears.

Still, you can’t help voicing a feeble protest.

“Is that necessary?”

His eyes flare with danger. Your breath snags as he grips your jaw, his fingers digging painfully into your cheeks. Your pulse thrums beneath his palm.

“I don’t want to be mean to you right now, so don’t make me.” Though his tone is soft, his expression is harsh and inflexible. “Just do as I say.”

You give a shaky nod.

“S-See you tonight.”

He releases your face and you take a deep breath. His crooked smile is wide and victorious as he hops away from you.

“I look forward to it, sweet bird.”

You put a hand on your chest as he disappears, willing your thundering heart to slow down. You find comfort in a single thought. At least, after tonight, you will finally be rid of the peacekeeper.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #coriolanus snow

[saradika]

—HOW TO USE CANVA TO MAKE MOODBOARDS

I got a kind message asking how I make moodboards in Canva, so I wanted to do a little tutorial! Canva is a free graphic design app/website, and I use it for everything.

To start - open the app/page and use the search bar at the top to search for a template. I usually use: photo collage, scrapbook, aesthetic moodboard - all of these will pull up pre-made templates for you to use.

[I have a couple linked below that I’ve used and liked, or have bookmarked to try:]

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

Anything with a crown is for Canva Pro members - you used to be able to use the templates as a free member (just not the paid assets) but that changed recently. The linked templates above are all free ones that you can use right away.

PHOTOS:

Once you’re in the template, you can press the + in the bottom corner to bring up the menus. The Elements tab have items you can add in (more on that later) - for now you want to go to Uploads, and add the photos you want to use. I mostly get mine from Pinterest and Google Images.

[If you are writing an x reader fic and are looking for tips for creating an inclusive moodboard, there are some awesome resources here: one | two !]

After that, go back to your template and click on the different photo frames, and use the Replace button in the toolbar - it will let you replace the template photos with your own. Double tap to move and resize your image within the frame, (and there are also filters you can use if you want!)

When working on moodboards, I like to move things around. You can replace the frames they use by clicking on the item and then clicking the Trashcan. Then go back to the + menu, and then Elements, and scroll down to Frames. You can scroll through them all, but my fave keywords to use in the search bar is: polaroid, torn, and ripped.

Once they’re added, you can move them wherever you want. There’s a button on the toolbar that says Position, and you can shift the object forward/back between the items around it.

DETAILS:

Once you add your photos, then comes the details! You can change the background color and add/change the fonts (or upload your fave font to use!) Try out all the tools on the toolbar to see what you can do, there’s a lot of options.

I love love layering with my moodboard, so I will go back to the + / Elements tab, and then search for things to layer in. My fave searches for Graphics recently are: ripped paper, grunge patterns (to use in the background), star patterns, dried flowers, and dried leaves.

You can use the Position tool on them to fit them in-between or in front of your photos. I usually use them to hide harsh edges or in places that look a little empty.

I also like adding fabric texture to the backgrounds, to fill the space between the photo frames. There isn’t an easy way to do this - the best way I figured out is to find an image of the texture you want, and then to add a photo frame with a torn or jagged edge in the very back (and then use your new texture there). You can duplicate and move it, to cover the space (you can see some examples below - the beige flower pattern in the Din one, the black velvet for Alfred).

Here are some examples of the original templates, and then what my finished ones look like. You can see what I swapped out, moved, and added:

original image | my moodboard

EDITING:

Once I am happy with the design I download it, and then edit. I love this part - pop it into your fave editing app, and play around with the exposure/contrast/hues/sharpness. I will mess with the color balance & vibrancy as well - this can really take a moodboard I like, to one I love.

Here’s some gifs I made showing before /after editing - both are pretty before but I think the after has an oomph that I really appreciate.

[When you finish with one and want to use the same template, you can click Make a Copy, and it will duplicate it. I began with templates but everything I do now are copies of heavily/edited templates or ones I’ve made from scratch. But for starting off, I think a template is the way to go!]

And that’s it!! I would really suggest just opening it up and seeing what you can do. Not all of mine turn out great, but each time I think I get a better handle on all the different options and what my moodboard style is.

I really hope this helps! And feel free to tag me if you post any you make, I’d love to see them (or drop me an ask if you have any questions!) 💖💕

#please give this a reblog if it was helpful! 💖 #and just a note the 4th example is an OC x Character fic moodboard #moodboards #graphics #tutorials #aesthetic moodboard #resources #fic moodboard #fan fic meta #fic writing #writing resources

[vampiretendencies]

throw another stone at a glass house

request/summary; your writing literally gives me life. love it sm <3 would you be able to do something where jj and the reader get into an argument at dinner but they have a rule to never go to sleep mad at each other?

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings; fluff & angst, maybe a bit suggestive

authors note; love loved writing this anon :,) pls continue to send in requests ! gif creds to owner

His cured blood was boiling— searing even.

Eatery being complacent, fairy bulbs roped neatly and whimsically throughout the establishment. Fake plastic plant leaves braided about the paneled open roof. The trimming on the tables simplistic and clothed white, any other vibrancy would clash with the modern elegance that was being established. Clammer from steel trays and the mouthy Kooks that JJ was rubbing elbows with.

His attire is classy to fit his false image— dapper wrinkle-free black button up: buttons done up until the narrowing of his chest, not too revealing, not too Pogue-like. Arms broad and fibrous, giving quite the show whilst they bulged and unbulged with every movement he made. Grey slacks, steamed specifically for this event, an absolute fool as to not recognizing himself cleaned up so pleasantly.

The amount of meals he missed simply for this one meal, to scrimp and scrape pennies together merely to see a joyous picture-perfect smile planted on your face.

And he hadn’t told you he was doing so, but for about around a month now he’s been saying ‘Got a special night for us in the works baby.’

You knew it was tonight and you knew the address.

It wasn’t a familiar one, no, the both of you, Pogues, and not having heard of such a lavish restaurant. Hell, JJ was even awestruck himself when he stepped foot in the door.

But to him it was showing you a glimpse into the future with him. The life he would scavenge to define, to escape the one he’s living in now.

Full Kook.

But, nevertheless a Pogue at heart.

With that being said, he cannot fathom as to why you wouldn’t be here.

As to why you wouldn’t be here basking in the night, with him.

As to what could possibly be any more revelation, right here.

“Sir, are you ready to order yet?”

The same lanky waiter, with a nasal like voice spoke— and the irritation of it made JJ’s skin crawl. His class bow tie, with upheld posture was something JJ cut his eyes at, interrupting his thoughts as he already done prior.

“I told you no the past three times, didn’t I?”

JJ bit back at the man, partially because he’d been to JJ’s table all those times within the span of twenty minutes, not to mention prior to when he’d arrived two hours ago. The waiters mouth turns up in disgust.

“M’waitin’ for my girl, alright?”

He proceeds to add, confirming again to not come back unless he proclaimed he was ready. A kind way of saying ‘fuck off’.

“We cannot continue to keep holding your table this long, there are other people waiting to eat.”

“I’ll call her.”

The waiter clicks his tongue, spinning on his heels to the rest of his section to serve. And JJ presses your contact in his phone, as he did thirty six calls ago— to be exact.

Pitiful, going straight to voice mail, beating organ falling straight to his half-cut boot clad feet.

Pissed, seeing to it that he should be. All this money, all this devotion, only for it to go to waste due to you not being on time?

JJ would give his soul away not feel this.

On the verge of flipping over this table and making a scene just for shits and giggles, or to cope.

The reason you were late was anonymous to him. A slumber took over you, sleeping in later than usual after work, exhausted in that shared apartment. Forgetting to charge your phone, all events that pushed you farther and farther behind. Remnants leaving you pressed to get ready for the event, all whilst having to catch a ride from Kie.

One would probably wonder why JJ simply didn’t wait for you to get ready and just drive you to the surprise himself. He was too adamant, prying on the idea that, even appearance would be a remembrance factor.

Small heels colliding with cement in a clack sound, digits on the iron knob studying the building once more, to assure yourself this location was right.

Pulled straight out of a dream.

And you prodded on the thought of JJ affording this, the effort that went into it. Wondering why he thought he had to spend so much just on you, yet impressed with your boyfriend— if only you knew the sheer devastation upon him.

The red lacey satin of your dress was enough to turn heads and you did just that, strutting whimsically to the front podium to be sat at the table with JJ. Every Kook eye studied you, but you spotted one head of hair in particular. Sat in a dainty wooden chair that caused his back to be turned to you.

Numerous round tables, purely yearning for just that one.

That one with the unearthly being; light locks dancing over his features, and a jawline fierce enough to cut paper.

The one that’s battling with himself as to wether or not to make a big deal out of this, the moment he saw you next.

Little did he know you were feet away, gawking at him and the entirely ethereal gesture he did for you.

Jesus, he looks so fucking hot.

Dapper.

Heat growing on his neck whilst he feels a shadow standing over him, he continues to play with the given metal utensils in front of him.

Perhaps the knife grazing past his fingertips, would pain much less than the ache of disappointment surging in him.

He almost, turns to face the shadow preparing to tell the waiter off. But as his sense receptors fill with that familiar warm vanilla scent ...

He doesn't.

He doesn't because he knows it's you.

And he's gathering himself for the argument that's about to ensue.

Did JJ want to fuss and fight with you?

Absolutely not, he avoids confrontation at any given moment.

However, he is also human and can only take so much.

Your graceful hand stretches over his flexed back, tensing up at a touch that would normally lull him away into no tomorrow. Blue orbs daggering into your figure overtop his eyelashes, clearing his throat at your presence. Your chair scratched along the patterned wooden floor, a notion JJ always does; pulling your chair out.

This time, you do it with no complaints; declaring to avoid the subject at hand. Acknowledging that you were in deep shit with your lover.

That exact lover teaching you so: deny, deny, deny.

And God, that dress is hugging you so tight his hairs stand up on his neck. Alluring and sensual.

If he wasn't so fucking livid, he'd rile himself up enough to temper delicate, mouth-biting, love marks to your neck.

Over

And over

Again.

Until he got his fill.

You're supposed to be mad at her, JJ thought to himself.

"Hi, J!"

His insides rumbled as if he ate sour food.

But, no food would be eaten tonight.

"Hey."

His tone laced with malice and defeat. The worse kind of greeting, not the usual 'baby' or 'pretty girl' attached to it.

Then you knew were in for it.

"Thank you for tonight, s'so pretty baby."

Reading you, he knew you were probably thinking how he managed to get a table here. But something this polite, it was uncalled for to ask such a question.

"Yeah, it was prettier earlier."

He muttered under his breath, with his face contorting into a frown. Across the table yet so far away, the bright light of the eatery highlighting his cheek bones so handsomely. And you longed for him to be, himself.

"What'd you say?"

His words unclear, he was someone that usually has a voice prominent enough to hear from miles away; so it couldn't have been anything loving.

"Nothin'."

Accent think and harsh, eye contact here and there, though it wasn't anything promising.

"Gonna' have to fix your face J, it might ruin the night."

You gasped out a laugh, but to JJ it wasn't fucking funny.

If he wanted to glower, then he'd do so and he meant it.

How dare you joke about something he busted his ass to do, money that could've been enough to pay the apartments rent that month.

He thought you were being ungrateful and that you didn't appreciate him.

First you were behind time, and now you're laughing in his damn face beating around the obvious bush that was weighing him down.

And he can't help himself.

"No ... you ruined the Goddamn night!" He spat, voice broad and demanding, through grit teeth. Knowing that if he spoke any louder the couple would be asked to leave.

He's disgusted with you for being so careless with his feelings.

A night that was supposed to be filled with desperate, needy touches, and bellies full of the finest food; JJ could find it coming to a halt.

You grew ansty in your seat at his remark, lungs missing air and guilt replaced it.

Remorse entering your features.

Falling apart at the cause of his disfunction being you.

"I didn't mean to, JJ."

You reach for his hand across the table, veins apparent and digits long; in effort to console him for your mishap of being extremely late. And he lets you interlock your finger with his upsettingly, though he waited for that same touch all night; unable to deny any touch from you.

To get his point across, he lets go.

"But, you did."

He corrected you with a tilt of his head, replacing your missing fingers with a comb through his hair.

"I-I overslept after work ... and-"

"That's such bullshit. Do you know how many long hours I worked for tonight? Just for you to not be here?"

The palm of his hand slams against the table, drawing the attention of the couple next to the two. You hurriedly shush him, bringing his anger back down to earth.

"M'trying to say sorry JJ."

Both sets of eyes glare at eachother as if in competition, and JJ's stomach whirls.

"I don't want a sorry, I wanted you to be here."

"Well ... well, I'm here now. We can still order, J."

You try again but ultimately fail.

"M'not sitting here with you and pretending like everything's 'dandy', when you fucked everything up."

His words were cold and emotionless. You search for everything to say, but all that JJ said clarified it for you. Your sullen heart thumped, salty tears brimming at corners of your eyes.

Making you feel small.

Fighting to prevent them, so you didn’t fall apart in the middle of this restaurant.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

He wasn’t cruel, not enough away, to leave you here with no way back to the shared home.

No matter how big the fight or the cause of it, it always left JJ wondering if you still besotted him the way he did you.

He wondered why, altogether going with the fact that nothing was ever permanent in his life,

Did you still crave him— on your lips, in your lungs, and beneath your skin?

One way to describe the ride home was— sickeningly tense.

Amid his rage, his hand clutches the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. Stealing glances at you, hoping you didn’t hate him. Neither of them able to etch a sentence, whilst the radio played and you sat turned with your knees to the door staring out of the window.

Oddly close enough to your position now.

On the edge of your side of the bed. Admiring JJ peel off his pants and unbutton his shirt, leaving them aimlessly on the carpeted floor— stripped down to his only boxers.

You’d thought you wouldn’t get much comfort tonight, being that he avoided even still after arriving home. Mustering a ‘gonna’ pick up the kitchen’, knowing full well it was only to an excuse to not be up under you while you both were overstimulated and on edge. Leaving you to get the bed ready and practice your night time routine. That’s why you are in the pajama attire of JJ’s t-shirt, his musk still attached to it.

His flesh on fire, conscious that you were boring at him.

‘When you fucked everything up,’ stung your chest and tainted your mind.

Reflecting, he’d wished he would’ve cut you some slack.

His baby, that he hoped for on nights when he had no one.

He baby, that he hoped for on every shooting star.

His baby, that he hoped for in a crowd of people.

His baby.

There was this rule book.

This rule book, was true and real, and contained all the expectations you and JJ had for eachother being together. It was for numerous reasons to begin with, but a year passed by and another and they fully became implicated.

The rule book was a thin black note book, adorned with two red pairs of lips. One was yours, and one was JJ’s— having put red lipstick on his puckered lips, afterwards staining your entire face with them.

Painting your face with his desire for you.

And still that notebook remains framed in the living room, just above the TV.

Rule #1: Never go to sleep mad at eachother.

It was in big, chunky black letters— JJ wrote it and with every letter he wrote he meant it more. One would think cheating would be at the top of the list— but that wasn’t a worry.

It wasn’t a concern because if JJ could inject you into his veins he would do just that.

And so would you.

Opening up his heart to you was not a thing he’d ever regret doing.

Letting himself become infatuated with you, and letting you treat him the way he deserved to be.

You’d silently prayed that JJ would enforce the rule tonight, seeing as even though you did fuck up, you had reason to be irate as well.

His feet pad against the khaki carpet to switch off the bedroom lights. Miscellaneous TV show, playing whilst it illuminated his appearance. He made a b-line for his side of the bed, queen size engulfing him. And you did the same, twisting to lie in bed next to him, but not right beside him.

Lying the exact same— backs flat against the black silk sheets, duvet pulled up past either arms. Pairs of eyes darting at the the other. Except JJ’s left arm is behind his head, the muscle fissuring with ease as it grooved forward from the small glance you got. His right arm is the one closest to you, flat in the open space between the two.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know how to lay.

He is so use to having skin on skin contact, but now he’s lying alone and deprived of your touch.

And you would initiate but you quiver at being denied again.

“Y’know you can’t go to sleep yet.”

His raspiness booms and echoes off the walls, causing you to jump in the slightest. Still continuing to look forward at the cinema before him, you bore into him with furrowed eyebrows— head turning on the firm pillow.

“How come?”

His insides fluttered at your melodic and rhythmically put together voice.

He’s still scolding to the touch, but realizing his tad of unreasonableness consumes him. Turning to his side, he faces you, an everlasting lump in his throat.

“Rule number one-“

“Never go to bed mad at eachother.”

You finish his sentence, and his mouth is partially open. Heartbeat becoming deathly, hands clammy at him bringing the rule book up. He remembered.

He remembered it all.

“So can we stop being mad?”

He pleads, voice cracking in the slightest.

Giving himself to you in every way possible.

Vulnerability only amendable when he’s near you.

Enchanted and explicitly, letting you suck his soul in.

And he didn’t care.

“I was never mad at you J, you were mad at me.”

Solely, truthful acknowledging that you couldn’t be viled at him chewing you out at dinner. Feeling like you deserved every bit of it.

“I s-shouldnt have said that, baby m’sorry.”

His lone hand encapsules your shoulder, the pet name leaving his mouth smoothly, a part of his everyday vocabulary. You crane your neck to place small pecks to each one of his knuckles, showing each one more attention than the last.

“S’okay, I get it J.”

“Just wanted us to have tonight, for us.”

“I ruined it, I know-“

“Nothing’s ruined … we still have us.”

His head lowers, lips puckering in the faintest way. Softly pressing with yours, all whilst enveloping you closer into his frame. An embrace his sore body hungered for. Tongue delving into your mouth, molding together like puzzle pieces. Angrily kissing to make up for the love lost today, he hummed at the comforting sensation.

“And m’not letting go of that, baby.”

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #obx3 #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x kiara carrera #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagines

[miinatozakiii]

are we still friends? (can we be friends?)

minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff, angst 

synopsis: seeing sana again during christmas causes feelings to resurface

warnings: food ; alcohol ; datzu crumbs ; cursing ; proofread halfway bc i got lazy + grammar and spelling errors probably

a/n: how to write angst?? am i cooked?? (I'm cooked) ALSO I wrote this in December so a lonnnngg time ago like when I touched the doc for the first time two days ago it said last edited 12/30/23 T-T

“y/n! come help with the decorations, it a bit tough to reach.” your mom calls out from the entrance.  

pausing in your place, you turn to respond to her, “i’ll be there in a bit, let me finish mixing everything.” 

“okay honey. make sure to wear a coat when you get out here, it’s chilly!” she yells back before closing the door. 

a giggle leaves your lips as you continue to sift the dry ingredients, trying not to spill the flour and sugar. when you’re done with a part of your cookie process, you wash your hands and throw on your puffer jacket before heading out to help your mom. 

christmas is in four days and your mom has this annual thing where she throws a big party at your place every christmas eve. she invites all her friends who are back in town—some even fly out to come to this big event—and it goes on until the concerningly late hours of the night.  

your mom didn’t get to throw this big party last year because she was terribly sick, so you missed it that time, but now she’s so back.  

this means you’re in charge of the baking (yet again) and also helping her out everywhere. it’s not that you don’t enjoy this, if anything you look forward to this event—just not this year, it won’t be the same as the previous christmas parties. 

your mom has this friend who moved in five minutes away from your house when you were twelve, and they had a daughter your age. of course, both your mothers found a way to get you guys to meet, and eventually, you’d be spending the majority of your middle and high school years together stuck by the hip. 

her name was minatozaki sana; she was the first person you had fallen in love with inside and out.  

she had this type of vibrance to her that spread through her surroundings like a bullet train. if the room was dim, it’d seem like she had brought a piece of the sun inside just by being there, instantly illuminating it. it was palpable that she had her flaws, everyone did, but with the way she held herself up and gave her all, you’d see right past her imperfections and into that warm heart of hers. 

sana expected nothing and appreciated everything, that’s what made her lips curl up into a contagious grin. the streaks of creased skin in the corner of her eyes as she flashed that toothy grin gave everyone the intimation that she was simply overjoyed to be able to have the ability to love and to care. she was so beautiful in the way she found adoration so enticing, and that’s why you had fallen in love with her. 

your years with her passed by quickly, each year was filled with vibrant memories that led you to fall even deeper into her charm. however, you never mustered up the courage to tell her how you really felt toward her, and by the time you had gotten close to spilling out your pent up feelings; sana had found herself a little boyfriend. 

chris was some guy on the basketball team—who was also a bit short and lacking skill to even make the team—he was an arrogant, pretentious, and egotistical snob who managed to win sana’s heart. how did he do this? who knows, everyone who’s interacted with him either hates his guts or is in love with his pathetic self.  

he was only nice around sana, but you had seen him when he wasn’t pretending like there wasn't a stick up his ass. he was below the bare minimum and that’s how you’d describe him, he was nowhere near sana’s league. if anything, maybe you were just jealous (and that you were), but you knew what kind of person deserved sana—chris was not someone who deserved a wonderful woman like her. 

that asshole managed to win sana’s heart and keep it for half of junior year and all of senior year of high school, then he managed to convince her to go to a college that was a five-hour flight away from home—and by the way, your town was a two-hour drive from a well-known, top notch university, one that you and sana agreed to go to when you were both in middle school. 

there was no way you’d let sana go to that college, not when chris was the reason she was going. it was a school that wasn’t even comparable to the one not so far from home, the one that had significant alumni and programs fit for the both of you. sana could easily win a decent scholarship to the university you’ve been dreaming of going to, but she was going to let him change her mind in a matter of seconds. 

there was no way you’d let that happen, so you simply walked over to her house and stormed up to her room after seeing her text regarding this whole plan, a fool’s plan.  

- 

you remember the argument that shattered your friendships in seconds, almost like it was yesterday. 

“sana, you can’t just go to that school because of chris. look, i’m saying this as your friend and because i love you: he’s not all that, and the uni nearby has great health programs, they’re ten times better than the school over there and you know it.” you argue.  

you’re pacing around the room that you and sana have had countless late-night conversations and sleepovers in, the place where you had done more for sana than chris did. your eyes land on the two strips of laminated paper that hold the memory of the time you two had gone to the photobooth on your sixteenth birthday, your brows crease at the sight of your cheeks squished with sana’s as the two of you posed. a heavy breath makes your lungs shrink as you exhale. 

“i can’t let you do this, not for him sana.” 

“but i love him so much y/n, you know this. he promised we could stay in an apartment together and that everything would be perfect, we have a whole future planned and i—” 

“what about us sana?” you cut her off, voice breaking slightly. “what about our future? we promised that we’d go to that uni together, what happened to that? you’re going to throw it away for him?” 

“you’re being ridiculous y/n, we were thirteen! things change and you need to grow up, look—”  

“we’ve known each other since elementary school and you’re throwing away this opportunity for a guy whose grades are falling apart. not only that, he’s a fucking ass! you’ve come crying and complaining to me more times than i can count on my left hand.” you respond angrily, and much louder than you meant to. 

sana looks at you in disbelief, her expression almost carrying some sort of disappointment or disgust. she scoffs and you feel your heart shatter just from hearing it, this isn’t like her at all. 

“if you were so fucking annoyed by my misery then you could’ve told me,” she responds harshly, water lining her eyes.  

“sana that’s not what i—" 

“you’re supposed to be my best friend, always there for me and to support me. now look at you, what happened to that? can’t you be happy for me and chris? i seriously love him and all you’ve been is mopey and bitchy whenever he’s around.” 

“i know more people that have treated you better than him. he’s an asshole sana, it’s clear as day and even dahyun agrees.” 

her eyes meet the floor and she says in a smaller voice, “i love him y/n, and he loves me.” 

not like i love you, never will he love you like that. 

your features soften as you look at her. “sana you can’t—” 

“get out of my room.” sana spits in a stinging tone that’s worse than a dagger to your heart. she shakes her head then turns to avoid your gaze and your heart completely shatters as you watch a tear slide down her cheek in the process. “get out of my house, i don’t want to hear it.” 

“sana,” you begin, but when you hear her sniffle, you hold back everything that’s burning in your chest. your shoulders give up and sink in defeat before you croak out an “okay.” 

turning around, you step out of her bedroom with a heavy heart and trembling lips. tears stream down your cheeks as you make your way out of the house where sana and you had spent countless hours together—hours that you’d never forget no matter how hard you tried. 

- 

each breath you take is visible in the cold air and snow compresses with each step you take whilst hanging up the christmas lights. your mother smiles once you pin the last string up and  then you take a step back to admire the illuminating pattern of diverse hues beaming when your mom presses the “on” button. 

“thank you again honey, i appreciate it.” your mom says, holding your hand and squeezing it gently.  

you turn and smile at her, shaking your head before responding, “anytime mom.” 

the two of you enter the house again and immediately you’re on your way back to the kitchen to finish up your famous cookies. you three different types of cookies: chocolate chip cookies (the fastest batch to be eaten), matcha cookies with white chocolate chips, and ube cookies—sana’s favorites. 

-- 

“ube? what’s that?” sana says, giggling softly as you hand her a purple cookie with white chocolate chunks.  

“just try it sana, you’ll love it.” you assure, urging her to try. “it’s purple too, how could you not?” 

she rolls her eyes at you then picks up the sweet treat, taking a bite of the cookie. it’s crunchy on the outside and perfectly soft on the inside, making her shoulders sink down and eyes close when the new, thrilling flavor meets her tastebuds. 

“so, how is it?” you ask, raising your brows. sana simply smiles and nods, shooting a dorky thumbs up before taking another bite. 

“it’s wonderful, it’s like coconut and nutty and has vanilla and oh my gosh it’s so… it’s really good.” she sighs, melting as she consumes your baked good. she looks adorable. 

you laugh at her response and take a bite of your own experiment, eyes widening at how good they were. sana was right, they’re wonderful. 

-- 

“ah the purple cookies, those were a hit ever since you started making them.” your mom says, rubbing your back. she looks at you with some pity, knowing about your little falling out with sana. 

you simply smile and nod. “i like them, i was going to save some for myself too.” you joke, easing some tension in the air. 

“well, i’m going to call your dad up, go visit the kim’s later and tell them i said hi.” your mom insists, placing a twenty dollar bill on the marble counter. “heard they have a holiday latte out, you should try it. dahyun’s also been experimenting with her baking and beverages, she gets better each time i visit.” 

“of course she is,” you chuckle lightheartedly, “let me just finish these last cookies and i’ll put them in the fridge for a bit. did you want anything from their place?” 

“no, it’s fine. oh wait! i have a present for dahyun’s mom, can you give her this if she’s there?” she asks. 

“mhm,” you hum,  “just put it near my bag on the couch.” 

“thanks sweetie, i’ll do that.” your mother beams, then rushes towards her room to grab whatever it was that she needed. 

-- 

ring  

the sound of the bell chimes throughout the café—which is not too busy other than the elderly group in the corner and a student typing away at their computer to the side. you catch sight of the familiar face, instantly grinning when you walk towards the register. 

dahyun is turned away from you and cleaning the espresso machine, wiping it down and yelling a “welcome! feel free to check out the holiday pastries and beverages!” without turning towards you. 

you laugh and speak up, “it’s nice to see you miss know-it-all.” and upon hearing your voice dahyun instantly turns around, beaming a bright grin and setting her rag down. 

“y/n? you didn’t tell me you were in town? what the hell where were you last year?” she questions, walking out from behind the counter and then towards you to greet you with a warm hug. she smells like coffee grinds and cinnamon, you hug her back and smile. 

“i was deathly sick last year, like seriously fighting for my life. i didn’t tell you?” 

“no stupid, you didn’t.” she sighs, then pulls away to look at you. “i’ve only seen your instagram posts, haven’t seen you in a bit and wow… you look better than in the pictures.” 

“thank you?” you giggle before she walks over to return back behind the register. “i’ve also seen your instagram… who’s that girl you’ve been posting? got a girl and didn’t fill me in with the details?” you pry, smirking cheekily. 

“oh, tzu… gosh y/n we have so much to talk about, i’m glad you’re back in town.” dahyun says appreciatively, and you don’t miss the slight pink that dusts on her cheeks before she starts again, “let’s talk over some coffee. what can i get you? on the house by the way. we have like, thirty minutes before a bunch of people start piling in.” 

a giggle leaves your lips again before you decide on a peppermint mocha. dahyun gets to work and weighs out the coffee grins as you situate yourself to the side, watching her work her magic. 

the two of you catch up on what’s been going on with college, dahyun’s love life that you’ve missed out on, and what you’ve been up to yourself. twenty minutes pass and you’ve both ended up on some old memory that has the two of you laughing like idiots again, making both your stomachs hurt. 

“so… we’ve talked about what’s been going on with me… what about you and your love life? bet you’ve met a girl too.” dahyun interrogates with a teasing tone.  

“oh, well—” you begin, awkwardly staring at the cup in your hand. “i dated this girl for a while, but we ended up falling out and staying friends, nothing much… we just weren’t right for each other.” 

“i see…” dahyun responds, holding herself back from bringing up the sensitive topic—or, well, person.  

dahyun was aware of the falling out as well, but still stayed friends with sana. however, she was your friend before she met sana, so she had made sure if it was alright to keep contact and whatnot. of course you didn’t want your own personal problems to get in between other friendships, and you still loved sana despite everything that had happened so you gave dahyun the green light.  

after running to dahyun the same night of the argument with sana, you cried for an hour or two in her room. this was the first time you turned to someone other than sana, and dahyun had been on your side of the whole situation, making it easier to comfort and reassure you. she also disliked chris, but not as much as she liked you. 

she pretty much agreed with everything you had ranted about and thought it was stupid that sana would rather choose that asshole over someone like you, and later on you’d confess that you were in love with sana to dahyun. when everything had been rocky with sana, dahyun had been by your side, and you were grateful for that. 

“well, maybe you’ll land yourself a kiss under the mistletoe, who knows who’ll be showing up to your christmas party.” dahyun nudges you, smiling as she hands you some peppermint chocolate bark treat. “i could always set you up~” 

“it’s fine, really.” you guarantee. a smile spreads across your face and you dismiss her offer with a wave of your hand. “um, by the way… has um, has she stopped by or anything like that recently? does sana still visit—" 

there’s another ring from the door opening that cuts you off, making dahyun’s attention redirect towards the customer walking in. her eyes widen and she pauses in place before smiling awkwardly, then she mumbles an uneasy “um, be back…” before walking over to the register. 

you don’t think much of her weird mood shift and instead swirl around the small remainder of coffee in the latte cup. 

“hi dahyun! it’s nice to see you again.” a voice beams.  

you freeze in place, all of your body tensing up as soon as the familiar voice processes through your ears. it’s smooth, it’s sweet, and it has that same high-pitched ring and giggle that follows. immediately, your heartbeat spikes and you’re doing anything you can to avoid interacting or even looking in the woman’s direction. 

“it’s nice to see you too sana,” dahyun greets with a bubbly tone. the name being uttered from dahyun’s mouth is enough to make your hands grip the cup in your hand a little tighter. “can i get you anything?”  

“hm… i’ll have that peppermint mocha please. i’m also going to take a look around the bakery, i need to grab some treats for others. you know how it is, holidays and whatnot.” sana says in that adorable tone, it has you falling for her all over again just when you thought you’d gotten over everything that’s happened. 

quickly, you finish the last sip of your coffee before setting the empty cup down abruptly. it makes a small yet noticeable sound with the glass plate it had been sitting on, making sana advert her gaze.  

the small gift you had set down beside you is now placed on the glass that covers the display of christmas themed cakes. dahyun looks at you in confusion and tilts her head before you turn to smile at her, avoiding sana’s widening eyes. 

“thanks for the coffee dahyun, take the present on the glass to your mom—it’s from my mom to yours.” you start, trying to keep your voice level 

every ounce of restraint and discipline is fighting back the urge to simply glance at sana, who’s standing right in front of dahyun. you almost manage to avoid her, but it’s inevitable, your eyes land on your first love for the first time in almost two years. 

she’s looking at you with parted lips and surprise, but she still looks as beautiful as you remember. sana looks a little more mature than when you last saw her; the curve of her jaw is sharper, lips somehow brighter and her features are more defined overall. sana is wearing a scarf that fits around her neck comfortably, a brown, fluffy sweater, and dark sweatpants with uggs to compliment the outfit. there’s simplicity in her look—she’s jaw dropping, the sight of her makes your jaw tighten and heartbeat spike.  

her eyes meet yours for exactly three seconds, enough time to have every memory flowing in. 

clearing your throat, you finish your farewell to dahyun with a smile, “i’ll see you around, my mom says hi to your mom, tell her i also said hi too. i’ll get going now, have a good one.” 

your body doesn’t fight back the urge to glance at sana again—big mistake—before turning around and walking out the door. 

sana keeps her look on you the whole time, baffled to see you here and her own heart yearns for you. she’s missed you more than you’d ever know, and more than she’d like to admit. it doesn’t help her case that you’re ten times more attractive than when she’d last seen you at graduation. 

“you should talk to her.” dahyun says softly. sana keeps her eye on the door, you’re already out and probably in your car, but she keeps her eye on the door still. 

“were you talking to her earlier?” sana asks, now turning to face the younger woman. 

“we were catching up.” dahyun answers. the woman behind the register turns around to start making sana’s drink, unknowingly the same drink you had ordered. it all makes dahyun’s own heart sink in her chest a bit. “how long has it been since you’ve talked to her?” 

“since graduation.” sana explains, looking down at the counter. “i messed up.” 

dahyun turns around again to see sana, sorrow and regret etching into her features. the barista frows and reaches over to place her hand on sana’s shoulder, then rubs it gently.  

“talk to her, there’s always time to fix things. especially with y/n.” 

-- 

a few days past since that meeting, you’re still shaken up from it to say the least.  

sana is too, but you aren’t aware of that. 

to stray away from this event that is dreadfully close to leading to some form of existential crisis or spiral, you’re helping your mom out with setting up the last few decorations and tables while your cookies that you chilled a couple days ago bake.  

dahyun is also coming over with her girlfriend in the evening to exchange a couple of greetings and to properly introduce her girlfriend tzuyu to you. your mother had met tzuyu before and talked highly about her, so you were excited to meet her yourself.  

when the time comes, you hear a knock at the door and shoot up to answer it. you open the door and dahyun stands there with a nervous grin on her face. next to her stands tzuyu—and sana.  

your eyes widen and your jaw tenses when you see her perfect face, standing next to tzuyu with this awkward smile. she’s wearing a gray pullover and black sweatpants; an orange scarf also wraps around her neck comfortably. she looks snug and cute as ever, no matter what she’s adorable in your eyes. your heart flutters and you get all nervous like a teenager again. 

pushing away the edginess flowing throughout your whole being, you greet dahyun with a warm hug, then give tzuyu and friendly one as well. you’re not sure how to greet sana, being all shaken up by just her presence, so you resort to a smile and a small “hi sana,” then invite them all in. 

sana walks in and her hand brushes against your arm on accident, the two of you definitely notice it—though you both decide to ignore it and the warmth in your chests.  

your mom greets all the girls with a hug and the five of you sit down in your homey living room. sana sits across from you on the couch next to your mom, and you sit there avoiding eye contact as you all catch up. 

an hour passes by and dahyun is over in the living room talking to your mom about what’s been going on with her parents and the bakery. in the meantime, you decide to give yourself a break from feeling all nervous just by being near sana. 

standing up, you announce, “i’m going to the kitchen for a bit.” your mom simply raises her brows at your sudden departure, you’ve been silent for most of the conversation and it seems like you’re the only one affected by the tension in the room. “won’t be long.” you add, smiling weakly. 

the fridge is still full of some essentials, and to the side, there’s some cold brew and your favorite coconut milk; everything you need is right where you need it. you head over to the counter and grab your favorite glass cup, heart stinging at the memory of when you had received it. it was one of the many gifts from sana. 

you grab some ice and put it in the cup, then add your cold brew inside. then you grab a small cup with some honey and search for a spoon so you can mix it in with the coconut milk. 

“drinking coffee at this time?” a voice says, making you freeze. you break out of your short trance and hum in response before continuing to make your drink. 

“you know i can’t resist a good coffee, sana.” and the way her name slips off your tongue feels right. you haven’t said it often since the falling out and it still rolls off perfectly, it feels right coming from you. you’re hesitant to talk again, feeling her eyes drill into your back. something in your heart shifts and you manage to ask, “did you want something to drink?” 

“yeah,” she answers, walking over to you and sitting at the kitchen island. “same thing you’re drinking, but sweeter.” 

of course she wants it sweet, just like always.  

“okay.”  

your back is still turned towards sana and she watches you grab another glass. as you do so, she gets a glimpse of your own glass and smiles. “is that the cup i got you?”  

still fixing up her drink, you nod and answer, “yeah. it’s my favorite.” 

“a lot of your gifts are my favorites too.” she admits, her voice so soft and fragile that you’re scared the thick tension in the air might break it. 

sana watches you turn around, but you still avoid her gaze. you place both cups on the surface of the kitchen island and begin to pour the coconut milk mixtures into the coffee. the liquids swirl as they combine, creating a satisfying view. sana’s quick to redirect her attention back to you, staring at your face again. 

last time she had saw you at dahyun’s cafe, she only had the chance to get a simple glance at your features, not enough time to fully take in everything that’s changed about your apperance. there’s two new piercings on both ears and a new, small tattoo below your ear; the length of your hair is also noticeably longer. your lips part as you swirl both cups in your hands around, and then you take a quick glance to the side, allowing sana to admire your side profile and the unique curve of your nose and lips. 

you hold the mug out for her and finally meet her eyes again. sana’s favorite thing about you were your eyes, they’re still as pretty as she remembers.  

- 

it’s some thursday night during your sophomore year of high school, you were supposed to be studying with sana for your math quiz tomorrow, but she had other ideas.  

“stay still,” sana mumbles softly. 

she situates you in the chair near her desk and tilts your head up with the fingers holding your chin. she’s inches away from you as she puts some sort of sponge on your face, brows creasing as she does so. your heart is racing. 

after a couple of minutes, sana finishes up your makeup. she’s done some type of natural look on you, nothing too heavy or bold. you look at yourself through the mirror and take a moment to examine sana’s doings. as you do so, sana can’t keep her eyes off you. 

something in her heart shifts as she admires you. her eyes land on your lips, they’re oddly alluring, and sana’s cheeks burn. 

“sana you’re staring… do i look weird?” 

“no,” she practically breathes out, mouth slightly agape. “you’re beautiful.” she says breathlessly, her expression turning all serious it makes you giggle awkwardly. 

there have been many moments where sana has found you pretty, not just physically. your small gifts and reassurance have made her heart flutter, but she’s always figured that was just because she loved you deeply as a friend. but when you stare at her with those eyes in this moment, she’s so surprised by everything she feels. she's giddy and happy and warm inside and gosh her heart wants to jump out her chest and cling onto you. she's not opposed to the feeling; she always has this feeling aorunf you and she loves it. that's why she’s always around you in the first place. 

her face burns and you’re gazing at her all confused, you look so cute. 

growing nervous from how non-verbal sana has been, you try to shake her out of her trance. “hey, you’re scaring me. earth to sana? hellooooo…?” 

“how are you so pretty all the time.” sana’s eyes soften and her whole body relaxes as she rests her head on her palm. “like, your face is so perfect and your eyes… god y/n, whoever gets to be with you would be so lucky, seriously. like, you’re honestly the prettiest girl in our school, how do you not have a boyfriend?” 

your cheeks flush from the abrupt compliment, so you push her gently and giggle. sana giggles along with you, still star-struck. you’re both young and unknowingly in love with each other—giggles and teasing seem to be the only way to hide that. 

- 

sana has always found you attractive, after all these years she still hasn’t figured out why she made the mistake of pursuing chris instead of the person who was always there for her—and ten times prettier. you’ve always been right there, she’s a fool for looking right past you. 

sana grabs the mug, still making eye contact with you and both your eyes soften at the same time. 

“y/n i’m sorry.” she says immediately, “i messed up really bad and—” 

“sana,” you cut her off, “just enjoy the drink.” she watches you smile at her, it’s genuine and small, still enough to calm her nerves. you grab your glass and walk towards the door to the porch, tilting your head and urging her to come follow. sana figures she could pour her heart out later, if it were on the porch it wouldn’t be the first time she’s poured out her emotions there.  

the two of you find a seat across from each other, the fairy lights above create some type of ambiance to ease the tension that’s hanging in the air like an invisible cloak of some sort, suffocating the two of you with its unease. 

“how have you been?” sana asks. it’s cliché, but what else was she supposed to say?  

you don’t look up from the drink in your hand when you respond, “good, you?”  

“likewise.” sana lies, her jaw clenching.  

“you know,” you begin, and with intent, your eyes meet her face and she’s doing the same as you had been doing before; she simply sits there with the drink in her hand, looking quite on edge. “i figured if i were to see you again like this, chris would be with you.”  

“we broke up three months after we moved in together.” sana says quietly, “i broke up with him.” 

“sana…” you mumble quietly, surprised to say the least. “why— what?” 

“i ruined everything between you and i because i was so blinded by his affection, i couldn’t stay with him anymore with guilt clawing at me.” she explains, her voice breaking slightly. “and i couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after hurting you. losing you was the biggest mistake of my life. god, it took everything in me to come back to you.” 

“you never lost me sana,”  

“i’m just… sorry for everything, i really am.” she says sincerely, “and i don’t think enough words could really explain how sorry i am.” 

you look at her with pity, and despite her coldness towards you during the last semester of your senior year, you decide to let everything go. she’s your best friend after all, you promised yourself to be there. 

“it’s okay.” you say, it’s not the truth, but it’s not a lie either. “it was my fault too for letting the distance between us get larger.” 

“don’t say that, it’s not your fault.” sana sighs. she takes a sip of the coffee, it’s good, of course— everything you’ve ever made for her has been great. “i only stayed with chris because i was scared. that’s why it was so easy for me to leave everyone i loved behind, i think.” 

“scared? …of what?” 

she looks dead into your eyes and exhales, “i realized that, that maybe i was with chris because i was trying to push down how i felt about you.” 

you tilt your head in confusion, then begin to pry, “sana what do you mean—" 

“y/n, i was falling for you and it terrified me. i mean, i loved you, and honestly, i think i still do. i'm so fucking dumb, god i'm just oblivious.” sana says, then immediately, your heart rate spikes and your brows raise. she continues while fidgeting with her fingers, “i guess it’s easier to admit now because we’ve grown distant, and physically we’re distant enough. chris treated me alright and loved me, but i came crying to you all the time because he never treated me like how i wanted you to treat me, i don’t know why i did that. i don’t know why i let myself go through that when i had you. every time i’d kiss him i wished it were you, every time we did anything honestly.” 

sana's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, their glossy shine failing to hide the immense emotions she was desperately trying to suppress. the weight of her confession hung in the air, causing the entire world to momentarily freeze. it felt as though time itself had paused, giving you a moment to absorb the magnitude of her words. 

sana loved you, and she still does. you loved her, and you still do.  

but really, you can’t. you can’t go through with this. it’s too sudden, so unorganized and uncertain. 

all of this is a recipe for disaster. 

the echo of her vulnerability reverberated through the atmosphere, your mind spun in a cyclone of emotions. thoughts collided and collided again like football players during some game, leaving your head in a dizzying state of confusion, the sheer intensity of it all was jarring, leaving you all disoriented. the feelings you suppressed were finding their way back out, and you found yourself teetering on the precipice of vulnerability once again, just as you did years ago. 

finding out that sana loved you still gave you hope, but the revelation also made you uneasy. it had been too long without sana, and so much had happened, so there was the chance that things would be all rocky. besides, it’s just too sudden. 

“i’m— sorry for dumping all of this, i just wanted to give you closure because… well, i should’ve given you it years ago.” a tear streams down her eye as she says this, and then she begins to stand. “i should leave, i’m sorry for not letting you know i was coming— god i’m so sorry.” 

“sana wait—” you start, grabbing her wrist. she looks into your eyes, her’s are still glossy. you decide it’s better to let her go for now, unsure if this is the last time you’ll see her after this—hopefully not. “it’s okay, just… be careful. you know i’m always here, always sha.” 

the nickname that you made up for her makes her heart crack a little, she can only smile back at you for now. 

— 

the conversation between dahyun, tzuyu, and your mom is interrupted when dahyun catches the sight of sana pulling her scarf off the hook and wrapping it around her neck again. she takes account of the slight flush of her nose and cheeks, as well as her water-lined eyes. 

“you’re leaving?” dahyun asks, concern clear in her tone. sana simply smiles and nods, “yeah, i’ll see you at the holiday party. it was nice seeing you too miss l/n, i missed all of this.” 

“you’re always welcome honey,” your mother assures, “where’s y/n?” 

“out on the porch, she said she’ll be back in a bit. i’ll see you all, thank you.” sana says before departing, leaving the three women in the living room perplexed. 

a few minutes later whilst the three in the living room conjure up theories of what had happened while you and sana had been gone—you appear with a blank expression. you sit down next to your mom and lean against her, not saying a word. 

tzuyu (who is only briefly caught up with whatever had happened between you and sana, and she deinfitely needs a thorough presentation on your history) looks at dahyun and tilts her head, dahyun simply shakes her own head. 

“sana and i talked a bit, resolved and made things clear.” you say, answering the elephant in the room. “i’m heading up, i’m getting sleepy and i want to have some energy for the party tomorrow.” you add. “it was nice getting to know you tzuyu, you’re perfect for the idiot beside you. night everyone.” chuckling quietly in between responses. 

and with that you’re walking up the stairs to your room, leaving your mom, tzuyu, and dahyun perplexed yet again. 

- 

december 25th, five o’clock pm. 

you're greeting guests, various familiar faces and their parents, family friends, and whoever else you mom managed to fit on the list. 

the party is lively, with people scattered in the backyard and on the little porch while your dad grills his signature bbq meats. your mom laughs with her friends as she sips on her wine, moving her hands around as she talks to emphasize her little life updates. 

in the basement with you are your old high school friends: momo, her cousin mina, jaehyun, mark, johnny, seulgi, sooyoung, jeongyeon, and dahyun, who’s accompanied by tzuyu. the rest of your frineds couldn’t make it, they were probably out of town. all of them sit on the floor or couch with a can of smirnoff or soda, all chatting and laughing over old memories. 

you lean against jaehyun as you laugh, letting yourself hide behind his shoulder while mark ruthlessly brings up each embarrassing phase you’ve had. what a guy, a guy you’ll be figthing soon if he keeps this up. 

the feeling of your phone ringing against your palm as you hold it catches your attention, directing you from the conversation at hand. the screen shows a call from “mom♡” which earns a confused look. you answer the call, cupping the phone so you can hear her better as you answer. 

“hello? did you need something?” 

“hey honey, would you mind coming out for a bit? someone wants to see you.” 

“someone?” you ask, “one of your friends or...?” 

“just come on out sweetie.” she insistts. 

“okay okay, whatever you say.” you respond before ending the call and starting to get up. jaehyun looks up at you with a quirked brow as he sips on his drink. you look back and shrug, “my mom wants me to meet ‘someone,’ probably one of her friends or something. i won’t be long.” you respond to him and let the others know. 

"alright, take your time," jaehyun says with a nod, setting his drink down. "hopefully, it won't be too boring," he adds with a small smirk, teasing you gently. you roll your eyes playfully in response before grabbing your jacket and heading towards the sliding door.  

you were right about the guess on seeing your mom's friend, or—friends. however, the sudden chill you get when seeing the minatozaki’s on the porch makes you tense up.  

they're standing there, glasses of wine in their hands as they look at you. sana's mom has a smile on her face, so does her dad. you walk up to them and try to shake off your nerves, fully hugging sana’s mom and giving sana’s dad a side hug. 

“it’s been a while hasn’t it?” sana’s mom says, putting her hand on your shoulder and grinning. “it’s wonderful to see you again.” 

“likewise.” you respond, melting into relaxation the more you get used to this atmosphere. “how have you all been?” 

after a tense reunion with sana’s parents, they find out about your ambitions and what you’ve been up to. not much is mentioned about the falling out between you and their daughter, but the thought most definitely lingers in the cold, winter air.  

sana's parents tell you about an internship she earned at a hospital her first year, saying they’re proud of her for helping others and the bonus of the nice paycheck that came with the experience. they tell you she’s found herself a guaranteed transfer to your school and that she’s excited to help even more people in the nursing program. it sounds like sana’s a great person, she’s always wanted to help others, it makes you smile and nod as her parents update you on what she’s been up to. 

but there’s this feeling of uncertainty and sorrow brewing. the fact that you have to hear about sana from anyone but her breaks you a bit, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t hesitate to update each other back then. now, it seems like you’re missing a chunk of memories that you could’ve shared with sana. 

“we asked her to come to the party.” mr. minatozaki says, looking at you with a sympathetic smile. “she said she’d consider it.” 

“oh, i see.” you respond, nodding whilst looking at the ground.  

part of you is glad that she’s not here, but who are you kidding, there would never be a time where you’d be dissapointed to catch her near you, despite the paranoia taking over. 

“well, it’s nice to catch up y/n. we've missed you, it’s great to see how well you’re doing. your parents must be proud.” mr. minatozaki concludes, looking at you with admiration. 

“yeah, thanks.” you say, “well, i'll leave you to talk to my parents, but i'll stop by again to talk to you two. it's really nice to catch up, i've missed you guys too, and your wonderful dinners.” you add jokingly, earning a laugh from the couple. 

sana's mom kisses your temple and hugs you, then lets you walk back into the house. 

it seems like this whole night has been full of surprises—scratch that, at this point, everything is a surprise ever since you've been back in town. especially now, because once you step into the kitchen, there’s a familiar woman who’s making your knees weak all over again. 

“y/n, hey.” sana greets softly, smiling at you. 

she's just hung up her scarf on the little hook near the fridge, the same place she’d always hang it back then. there was this unspoken rule that when sana was here, there were certain spaces that belonged to her; the hook near the fridge, the chair at the dining table closest to the living room, the right side of your bed, and the left side of the couch in the basement.  

still, you’re pissed at the fact she had practically cut you off completely over a boy just to come back years later to win you back. it irritated you how easy it was for sana to convince you, but you were much angrier at the thought of her coming back to see you because her and chris didn’t work out. was she serious about the breakup? was that all it took to forget that she had caused so much mental turmoil? 

despite this, her being in your house again and seeing her at this christmas party like years before; everything reminds you of the fact that sana had always lingered in your home. 

“hey, didn’t think you’d make it.” you respond, watching her shrug. 

“my parents said your signature cookies are here, i had to.” 

can't be the only reason, you want to mumble, but your lips stay sealed. 

sana speaks again, “i stole a couple, ate some earlier actually. still as great as i remembered.” 

“thanks.” you mutter, walking over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “did you want to talk about something?” 

“what do you mean?” 

“there’s a reason you came, and i know it’s for me since you’re not in the basement with everyone else. we both know that’s the signature spot.” 

sana cringes at your tone, but gives in. 

“i just wanted to see you, and hopefully talk to you normally.” 

it's taking everything in you to hold your ground, to protect yourself from this sudden appearance that’s making you all uneasy again. you can’t let sana screw you up again with a simple visit, you can’t. 

“i know you’re sorry but sana, you treated me so terribly. do you know how much i cried? how fucking terrible i felt after losing my friend of years to chris?” you seethe, sighing. “part of me wants to start over, maybe try again—but how can i do that when there’s the chance of you throwing away everything, we rebuild over another stupid fucking guy.” 

she looks at you with guilt in her eyes, her shoulders sinking and words jumbling in her throat.  

“y/n, nothing—no one, despite what i've done to you, will ever make me forget how much i love you. there's always a space in my heart for you.” 

you scoff, anger flowing throughout you now, then walk over to her. she stands against the frame of the entrance, you stand in front of her now, looking down slightly. sana's looking at you directly in the eye, you can see the hurt and regret in her eyes; her look brings you back to your senses. 

“how do i know you’re not bluffing? sana, every ounce of me wants to redo this.” your voice cracks slightly, the hurt evident in your tone.  

“you just have to trust me, i'm sorry, i'm really sorry.” 

you feel like curling up into a ball and hiding, the way your chest tightens makes you want to cry a bit. 

- 

the party ends around one in the morning, considering the fact that some of the attendants are adults that don’t have the energy to party until the sunrises.  

jaehyun’s just crossed the line, now slurring his words and laughing stupidly while he gets touchy with the guys, so mark ends up driving him home. johnny catches a ride with seulgi and sooyoung. with them gone, you’re in the basement with momo, mina, dahyun, and tzuyu. all five of you end the night with some recollections of memories, momo’s recent date, mina’s annoying professor, and before you know it you all are hugging goodbye. 

you've already gone through three cans of the smirnoff cans, it hadn’t done much except make you a little more giggly and talkative. you were a little tipsy, that was all. 

throughout the night, tzuyu and dahyun exchange glances, their eyes meeting repeatedly, dahyuns hand rubbing tzuyu’s thigh, and the little smiles they give each other. all of it doesn’t go unnoticed – at least by you – and hints at the potential for something you don’t want to think of in detail once they return home.  

as you observe their subtle interactions, a pang of envy stirs within you, longing for that same allure and anticipation. amidst the swirling emotions, a sense of emptiness creeps in, amplified by the beers you’ve had. you're left to ponder on what’s making you feel hollow, still feeling bad after raising your voice at sana earlier. 

you can’t feel bad, you shouldn’t. whatever you did wasn’t comparable to her practically pretending you didn’t exist for almost two years. 

after rolling your eyes and saying some stupid joke to dahyun and tzuyu – the last to leave the house – you head back to the basement.  

of course, sana had to be sitting on the couch, head turned towards the tv as she sipped on a beer.  

“hey.” you mutter, earning her attention as she turns away from the christmas movie you paused earlier. 

“hi.” sana greets. 

every ounce of anger, irritation, and dread had been squeezed out your body at the sight of her. you genuinely think it’s the alcohol that’s making you rethink everything, making it hard to fight back that voice in your head that’s trying to stay reserved and petty. 

sana sits there, her gaze fixed on you with intensity. her glasses are perched on her nose, a familiar sight whenever she's engrossed in watching tv or anything like that. the sight only adds to her charm, making her look even more adorable. you can't help but notice her favorite cardigan draped over her shoulders – the fluffy, white knit cardigan she adores so much –it's a cherished gift from your mother, and she's held onto it all these years. her eyes bore into yours, drilling into your skull and compelling you to plop down beside her as if nothing had ever transpired between you. you surrender, maybe it’s the late hours of the night, maybe the beer, o rmaybe just sana. 

(it’s probably just sana.) 

she turns back to the movie playing, some stupid romcom jaehyun had put on as background noise. 

your eyes trace the curve of her nose, lingering on her lips and the impeccable contour of her jawline as she remains fixated on the tv screen. her side profile captivates you for a moment, holding you in some sort of spell until she breaks the silence with her soft voice. 

“i think our parents are playing card games in the kitchen.”  

“probably betting money too.” 

“remember when your dad took your christmas money for their game?” sana asks, giggling at the memory. her eyes are still fixed on the screen, you decide to tune into the movie too. “didn’t he lose too?” 

“yeah.” you sigh, sinking into the couch. “he paid me back double the next day though.” 

“so it was worth it?” 

“yeah, i think we went out to eat with that money.” 

sana turns to gaze at you, her eyes tracing the soft contours of your profile in the dimly lit room. the glow from the tv accentuates her favorite features of yours, and she finds herself lost in the sight before her. for a while, she simply stares, allowing the comfortable silence to envelop the moment.  

you turn to look at her now, you two just stare at each other for a while more. 

“maybe we can try again.” you mumble, giving into the beauty in front of you. “every part of me is against the idea.” 

“that’s understandable.” sana agrees. she sighs before adding, “you don’t have to try again.” 

“i know.” you assure, “but i think we should.” 

“i’m sorry.” 

“i know, sana.”  

as the music from the tv fills the room, silence once again settles between you and sana. you know that you can't let this opportunity slip away – it's everything you've wanted, and deep down, you realize it's everything you've needed too.  

there's a mistletoe that’s hung above the two of you, it’s been there the whole time, both of you were aware of it. it dangles from the light tantalizingly, but neither of you do anything about it. neither you or sana even mention it. your mind races to the memory of dahyun and tzuyu kissing each other under it and part of you wants to kiss sana like that, but you won’t let her kiss and make up. 

you reach out, your fingers gently intertwining with hers. you lift her hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of her skin against your own. softly, you press a kiss upon the back of her hand, you linger in the intimacy of the gesture. 

the two of you sit there for a moment, letting the world around you two fade away. 

everything about the moment renders you weak. you think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, a second chance is enough to patch things up. if it’s with sana, then maybe it’s worth it. 

#sana x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice x reader #minatozaki sana #twice sana #minatozaki sana x reader

[mphountitled]

Campus Culture | L.DH

Pairings: Himbo!Haechan x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Haechan turns into a completely loveable but mindless replica of himself when inebriated and only Drunk Haechan might be able to seduce his uptight roomate... it only counts as a drunken mistake if it happens once, right?

Sfw Warnings: Roomates AU, Fwb to Lovers, Forbbidden Relationship, Confessions, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, Angst, CollegeAU, Himbo!Haechan

Nsfw Warnings: Smut (+18, Minors DNI) Fwb to lovers Roomate!Haechan, Perv! Haechan, Dub/CON, Grinding, Choking, Premature Ejaculation, Handjob, Needy!Haechan, Rough sex, Oral Fixation, Nipple play, Unprotected Sex (don't be dumb), Cervix Fucking, Breeding Kink, Cum Play.

A/n: This is more of an enemies to lovers if you squint. If you feel triggered by very slight depictions of bullying, please be wary. I also had no idea where I was going with this. It all just kinda spewed out. ANYWAY, I love Himbos

Usually, you're better equipped for an evening with Haechan's juvenile friends coming over and doing whatever it is that boy's seem to do once they're inebriated in each other's company.

"The bear emerges from hibernation,"

Haechan's voice is like that of a nature documentary narrator, and his head is in his hands as he leans over the armrest with a smile on his face.

“Rested, and in search of something to sink her teeth into.” You remain stoic faced as you breeze past the group of boys on your way to the kitchen adjacent to the living room.

With only a shallow counter to separate the two spaces, you're still roused by the sight of Haechan in your periphery, legs spread and head thrown back as he watches you with a dopey smile.

Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun and Jisung murmur their greetings dismissively, still vividly engrossed in their game while Chenle types away at the screen of his phone, his mind all together trapped in cyberspace. You breathe out airly as a vague sort of peace befalls you. This has become your norm.

They are so incredibly loud, Haechan's friend's are, that their cacophony bled through every thin wall in your shared apartment. So loud, in fact, that you were made privy to every degenerate, delinquent, and downright disgusting little detail that swam about in their conversation.

Whenever they were over, there was a vibrancy permeating throughout the apartment, which was either attributed to Haechan's need to speak at a higher octave than the rest of the group or Chenle’s obnoxious, though admittedly contagious laughter.

Not everything was daisies and sunshine, however.

You were made subject to Haechan's incessant teasing and petulance that only seemed to double in the presence of his friends. You ignored him, viewing his behavior as a package of a roommate system (more accurately: needing his money to keep yourself and your academic pursuits afloat.)

Even more harrowing is the fact that Haechan is completely accommodating, dare you say, even hospitable (when he's sober). It was very difficult to hate him. No matter how badly you wished to let your vexation infect the inner crevices of your mind... he always made sure to let you know in advance.

He'd knock softly on the door (a by-product of a covenant you both had forged upon deciding to live together. Knocking is something akin to treading carefully through a graveyard. Sacred) letting his usually loud voice simmer to a whisper because he almost always caught you studying at your tiny, disastrous desk and he'd say, "Hey, just a heads up, they're coming over tonight,"

You did not need clarification on the ambiguity of who 'they' were but your heart would plummet all the same.

His warning would allow you, not only to stuff your headphones around your neck, for easier access whenever the noise became too oppressive, but it also allowed you to grab the snacks and food necessary before locking yourself in your room.

Not attributed to any social anxiety, but Haechan's friends had proven to be... difficult to bear in their own ways. There was Chenle, Renjun, and Mark, who held a sort of distinguished naughtiness that you fancied way more than Jeno, Jaemin, Jisung, and Haechan's borderline flirting.

It had proven very difficult not to be included in their antics, especially given the very annoying fact that their energy was so freaking infectious.

As you proceed to turn on the kettle, Haechan speaks up once again. “Since you're already there… a coke, please, Madame.” He knew that you knew that he did not actually want a coke. He just wanted to see you vexed.

“Your legs are in perfect working condition, last I checked," your face remained stoic as you said, “Get your own coke.”

Jaemin immediately cackles to Haechan's right, prompting a light snicker from Chenle and the rest. Haechan sends a worried gaze towards them before bringing his eyes back to yours. Now he's on a mission to piss you off even more.

“C’mon...” he whines in an over indulgent American accent. “Be a doll and hand me a coke-I mean a beer." He stretches his neck from side to side, now deep into his theatrics, "I'm a man-”

The knife clanks on the counter as you scoff, “Since when?" You ask, "And what is with this ‘I'm a man’ stuff?”

Haechan only swats animetedly at the air, “It's cus I'm a man, Jagi. You don't get it cus you're not a ma-”

“Yeah,” you say, turning to prepare your noodles, “I don't wanna know actually.”

There's a sudden influx of celebratory hollering from Jaemin and Jeno, while Renjun and Jisung groan in defeat, signaling the end of their game.

Jaemin turns to you as he says “You seriously don't remember?”

You let the silence speak for you.

“He’s been like this ever since the asexual comment.”

The laughter escapes your throat as you shift your eyes to a now moody and grumbling Haechan. His arms are crossed as he avoids eye contact.

“Seriously?! That's why you've been on such a toxic gym bro kick?”

The flamboyant accent is still present as Haechan says, “Hey man, if you're not gonna get me a coke, just say that, I've got places to be people to see-”

The snort leaves your lips before you can stop it, “You've got a psych textbook to see and you're not even seeing that.”

“Stop with the celibacy jokes before he becomes worse!” begs Renjun.

Your mouth is open in false accusation, with the hints of a smile present, “It's quite literally not my fault Haechan's a virgin.”

“I'm not a virgin!” Haechan whines, letting his previously infuriating accent dissolve into his perfectly infuriating normal voice. “I have sex, all the time, tell her Jaemin. Tell her I have sex.” Your eye shifts easily to Jaemin, who only shakes his head.

“Ah, I told my therapist I'm trying to be more honest in my day to day,"

Now your laughter bubbles up to the ceiling, and you're throwing your head back, eyes shut.

“You all make me wanna kill myself.” Says Haechan, pushing himself up from the couch. The sight of him approaching sobers you ineffably from your laughter. He's not particularly tall, but there's a quality about him that asserts itself as height. A silent substitute.

“I’m being falsely accused of being a virgin, I have to get my own cokes?! What is this life of mine?!" A snicker escaped the confines of your lips as you empty your noodles into your bowl. Your albeit small little laugh was a sound so pretty, Haechan could not help but perk his ears up at the sound.

He inched his way slowly into the kitchen as you took one giant unladylike bite from your noodles. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan shares a glance with Chenle over in the living room. One that prompts Chenle into stabbing Renjun in the ribs with his elbow. They were all watching as you tried to shuffle past Haechan.

Haechan, who wouldn't let you pass until heard him say,

"Not a virgin." The words were veneered in a quiet whisper and in those few seconds, you were convinced the globe had stopped spinning on its imaginary axis. You became hyperaware of yourself, the noodles still very much inside your mouth and the soup dribbling out the corners. You clumsily wipe at your lip as you gaze up at him, smiling away like the Cheshire Cat.

While your heart proceeded its cataclysmic aself destruction, Chenle released the first snort. A snort that prompted an entire wave of laughter from his gaggle of friends. They were all laughing now. Haechan's face melted into a spout of his own laughter until he was doubled over.

"Mm," your nostiled flared , "I'll be in my room," You had disappeared in a hurry, hellbent on returning to your room. Hellbent on calming your runaway heart.

While you were nursing wave after wave of embarrassment, Haechan's eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Don't even try," Jaemin snickered, noticing that look in Haechan's eye as he stared after you. "She's locked up tighter than a prison. You'll only get your wittle heart broken."

Your eyes were practically glued on the endless enriching notes written by Achebe, Lamming, and various other authors you revered religiously. Your studying had been going swimmingly until the arrival of a drunk, slightly dazed Haechan, indicated by the heaviness of his bloodshot eyes and the slight sway in his form by the door. Haechan was a very different person when he was drunk. He got sloppy, as if he was at constant war with reality.

The following Friday had arrived with the small promise that you were to stay in your room for the foreseeable evening. You had chosen to occupy yourself from Haechan's 'get together' by sitting at your desk, like most of your nights: Completely absorbed in perfecting your English Lit notes on Post colonialism.

You both pause, in a vague liminal space until he breaks the silence with a breathy slight slur, “Well, this isn't the bathroom,”

He lived here. He should know where the bathroom is, inebriated or not.

Your eyes narrow. You can't help but snap in a manner that makes you forget all your civility.

“Evidently,” you say with an unimpressed drawl.

There is a tone in your voice that was specifically crafted to have him cringing away from you, like most men on campus tended to do. You were too much of a straight arrow for them, too narrow-minded with not enough complexities and not enough strings that needed detangling. Most men saw that you could smell the bullshit from a mile away, and you were very much aware of what they referred to you as…

Instead of shrinking away like you initially expected, a small, almost thrilled smile curls at the ends of his purt, heart-shaped lips. He only steps closer into your space.

Uptight.

“Don't you need the bathroom-”

“No, don't do that,” You're scowling at him but still, the bear refuses to retreat.

Your messy desk where you remain seated in a chair seems to catch his attention until soon, he's leaning back against the desk in front of you.

“You don't want me here?” He asked, genuinely confused as if everyone was just dying to be in his presence, “I'm not sure what you're busy with over here, but I could help,” He says, swiping a large hand over at the piles of notes scattered on the desk.

“I shouldn't have to tell you not to invade my personal space, Haechan. If this is some stupid dare-"

“I'm going to fucking kill you when you're sober-”

“Only strangers can invade each other's space, Jagiya," he whispers, snortingbas if you were the one acting silly here. “We're not strangers. I'm your dumb virgin roomate, right?"

Your eyes widen imperceptibly as you push yourself up from your chair.

“I'm not even that drunk.” He deadpans. It's as if this boy is unable to mask whatever emotion that seems to pass through him at that very moment.

“Are all these notes yours?” He asks, picking up one of your discarded notes. You strive to grab at the flimsy pieces of notepad paper in his hands, but he swipes it swiftly out of reach every time.

“I just wanted to check on you.” He beams as he pushes himself further along your desk.

“Haechan, you're messing up my system-”

“You must be really smart,” he whispers, and you immediately chastise yourself for letting his words erupt a sudden electrical storm through your once steady heartbeat. “Your handwriting is so pretty too… woah,” he admires before you see his eyes quickly peek about from the paper, “I really like smart girls,”

You find your voice, hidden somewhere in the depths of being flustered. He interrupts you, all the same, “It's okay to say you're smart… I think that's really, like, hot-”

It's impossible to account for the events that followed in a somewhat episodic format because nothing like it had ever happened to you before.

One moment, Haechan is gazing down at you like he wants to eat you and the next, his hand is wrapped around your throat, pulling you up from your chair until your lips are crashing onto his… You had not perceived just how touched starved you were, until you found your inhibitions melting, and you were kissing him back just as fiercely. He was impatient and sloppy, pushing his tongue in too quickly while his hand marked up every inch of your body. “Pretty,” he mumbled in between wet kisses, “You so pretty… y'just feel so pretty.” Once Haechan's lust was involved, the rest of his brain, it seemed, shut down like the finishing hours of a toy factory. He was switching your positions, pushing you onto the desk as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“Your friends,” you murmured before throwing your head back, offering him better access, “We can't.”

“We can,” he nodded, while pushing himself in between your legs, “We can because I want to,” He punctuated his sentence by thrusting his sweatpants-clad hips right against your core. He seemed to have quickly caught a liking to this form of intimacy because soon, Haechan is breaking apart fromcthe kiss to gaze down at his hips pushing against your core.

His breath is peppered with a soft and dazed, “Woah…”

He nodded very slowly, “I like this very much.” Haechan said with grave finality, which evidently was the calm before the storm. You locked your hand around your mouth as Haechan sank his fingers into the sides of your hips, grinding his bulge against your core like there was nothing else that mattered. He brought your hips to meet each of his stuttering but hard thrusts and your head fell back in the stuttering… constant… impact.

“See?” He says, “See how good it feels?” he mumbles incoherently, now in a violent pursuit of his own orgasm. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, feeling his cock twitching in his sweats. A feeling that usually let him know the end was near. He quickly clamped his hands on the underside of your ass before lifting you slightly off the desk, just enough to move impossibly closer between your legs.

He hugged you, wanting to feel your soft tits pushing up against him as he was grinding you both to a quick orgasm.

“You're close aren't you?” His voice cracks when he says, “Please be close, because I'm so fucking close-”

But all you're able to do is fight to keep your eyes open as you watch the slightly cracked open door. “H-Haechan-”

“Look at me, Cupcake,” he practically whined before forcefully bringing your eyes back to him with a flick of your chin.

The eye contact sent him down a rampage of lust and his hips stuttered as his mouth hung open,“F-Fuck, just like that- you're so good-” he lifted his baggy shirt, to watch himself thrust one more time before his rhythm crumbled and his hips stuttered as he came in his sweats.

You did not have the energy to tell him you didn't cum, only sprouting a brand new vexation as he swayed his way in search of the bathroom.

That had been your first and last devious encounter, before you avoided him like the plague. It had not taken much, because Haechan was vastly more sensible when he was sober. Emerging from his room like a bear out of his den and rubbing his messy head of black hair as he grumbled, “Did I do something weird last night? Or stupid?” He groans, “I have this feeling that I did something extra stupid and weird last night.” Although your heart plummeted minutely, you saw this as a lifeline and you took it.

“You were drunk, Haechan, so you probably most certainly did.”

You allowed yourself to live in the peace of sober Haechan until things once again only got dangerous on Friday nights, when his enablers would all congregate in the living room, tossing back cans of beer.

Your quick trip to the bathroom had ended with Haechan looming in the doorway, once again. With a near constant pout he exclaimed, “I missed you!”

“You see me everyday,” you grumbled before making your way to the sink to wash your hands. There was a bubbling in your stomach, that you would only dissect later. Whether it was excitement or frustration at seeing him this way.

“Still missed you-”

“I think you missed my body,” you said, before drying your hands, “Not me.”

“Both. I missed both,” he says, before beaming the sunniest, brightest smile you had ever seen on a face. You had to look away as you stepped towards him, for your sanity.

“Please move, Hyuck-”

“I wanna play,” he says, “We had so much fun the last time,”

“You fucking seduced me the last time and I fell for it like an idiot." You sighed deeply, "I studied myself to exhaustion. Im such a fucking idiot.”

He looks deep into your eyes as he very seriously says, “Don't say that-”

“What do you like about me? I mean what could you actually like and appreciate about me-” For all of 5 seconds the boy is trapped in a worrying daze. As the seconds tick on, your blood pressure rises and you're pushing roughly at his chest, which once again proves to be futile. “Fucking move, Haechan. I'm not doing this with you.”

His whines soar higher, “But why?! I didn't even really get to see your boobs, please let me see your boobs?” you stop his hand on its way to cup your breasts in mid air. He slumps

“You make me wanna kill myself.” He grumbles before stomping away to rejoin his friends. As Haechan sat down he breathed out heavily before whining, kicking and punching at the air. His friends, seeing nothing new with his tantrum, did not entertain it as they played their games.

Haechan just couldn't understand. He wanted you and, based on everything that transpired, you wanted him. So why not just let it happen?

You were making things too complicated and complicated is not something he enjoyed very much.

Haechan did not grasp onto much but you make it exceptionally clear that you did not want the interaction to be made public knowledge, and he, surprisingly obeyed your wishes. Your only enemy, it seems, were these hangouts Haechan scheduled with his friends. You liked to avoid unnecessary juvenile squabbling when necessary. You had to study instead, until you built the proper revenue to buy an apartment of your own, free from Haechan's provocation.

But you had fallen asleep.

The dusk bleeding into darkness until you were peeling your face off of your Classical lit textbook and nursing a grumbling stomach...

Your ears perked and your stomach sank as you heard boyish laughter bleed in through the cracks of the doorway. They had already arrived and you had zero rations to combat this venomous hunger.

It was guaranteed to be a short and curt journey past the small apartment living room, into the kitchen. A journey whereby you would pray you evade the group of boys invading your shared living room. Or at least one boy in particular...

Had Haechan been a non factor, your anxieties would have been perfectly nullified, but tin the wake of a troublesome post-study hunger, you had no other choice but to venture out into the living room.

You had hope your trip would be a curt one, entertaining not a single, word, jab, or comment as you were on your way to fly to the kitchen. Your feet stopped you before you could make it. Arrested in stark realisation that there is no noise at all. You round the short corner to find Haechan seated patiently on his couch with his hoodie up, tapping away at a mobile game while humming angelically. You immediately noted that he was sober and that set your mild frustrations at ease.

“Oh, hey,” you murmured, before swaying over to the adjoining Kitchen, separated only by a shallow counter. As you stare down at your yoghurt, you miss the way in which Haechan's face snaps up at tye sound of your voice. His feet fly off the coffee table and he rights himself infinitesimally.

“You guys aren't hanging out today?”

“There's a party somewhere on campus,” he switches his phone off and stuffs it into the pocket of his goodies as he shrugs, “Didn't feel like going.”

You walk back into the living room, and Haechan watches as you nod silently before planting yourself on the couch next to him. He's very perceptive and plants a couch cushion behind your back in the process. You realise then that you much preferred him this way.

“I'm having a hard time guaging the fact that you didn't wanna get drunk,” although a short chuckle escapes your lips, Haechan is not laughing. “I don't always think about getting drunk, you know.” The smile disappears from your face automatically as you bring a spoon of yoghurt to your lips.

“Of course… sorry-”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Haechan watches your tongue lightly poke out and nip at the yoghurt before lazily bringing his eyes back to you. “If anything, I should be sorry.” An immediate wave of discomfort washed over you when the words left his mouth. So he was aware.

“Drunk Haechan sucks,” he says, “You don't have to make excuses for him.” You're caught in a wave of silence, your yoghourt forgotten on your lap. He wants to pull back but he has your attention now and it's fueling him with all the confidence he needs before he's scooting closer on the couch, until your thigh is directly against his.

“Earlier in the week you asked me what I like about you-”

“Haechan, you don't have to-”

The discomfort bled into embarrassment now and you fought to get up but he placed his hand on yours.

“I don't remember what I said,'' his lips pout lightly as his eyebrows furrow, “I don't know if I said anything at all. I just… want you to know that I wasn't quiet because nothing came to mind. I was speechless because it was like trying to list the stars. Tiring and fucking endless.” He breathed out, before looking away abashedly, “You're a good cook,” he says, “you always make us something to eat for Friday nights. You're so driven, in a way that is equal parts obsessive but also really fucking hot.” Your mouth parts slightly and Haechan's eyes once again lazily drops down to watch them. His voice is airy and loght as he says, “Fuck, and you're so pretty and smart.” He's speaking purely from a place of lust and admiration, which only has you melting further. You much preferred this Haechan.

“You make me feel safe because I know you always have the answers…” You let his words hang stagnant in the air for a while, letting yourself marinate in the pleasure of it, while his own thumb rubs circles around the back of your hand.

“I mean…” The Insecurities were steadily sinking in because by the laws of campus culture, you both were not supposed to be together. Your names were met with different responses and different emotions attached to them. You'd hate his popularity to diminish because of you. Instead of spewing out these words, you only whispered, “Are you sure? I mean, think of what people-”

In a series of swift movements, Haechan's hand cradling your own had gripped down tighter before dragging your hand until it was flush against his bulge. He releases a heavy breath as his eyes fall momentarily shut. Gritting his teeth together as he throws his head back in momentary euphoria as if he had been waiting to do this.

He brushes your hand up and down as he says, “Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure.” He says, unable to stop himself rutting against your hand. A wave of confidence soon falls until you're taking control and crawling your hand up to the waistband of his sweats. He whines in anticipation as you stuff your hand inside until you are cupping his underwear-clad bulge in your open palm. Haechan's eyes are heavy when he swings his head lazily to you, watching you watch his hips lift to graze himself against your hand.

“I need you,” he whispers, before raising a hand, immediately cupping your breasts, “I need you so fucking bad.” He can feel the presume wet the tight constraints of his boxers and he locks his jaw tighter. “I wanna fuck you, Cupcake,” your stomach warms at the reiterating of the nickname he had given you when he was drunk and equally ravenous, “Please let me,” He juts his hips up with every whine that escapes his throat, “Please-”

“I need you too-” before the words even leave your mouth he's lunging at you in a wild kiss. “Fuck, your lips are so soft,” he mumbles before forcing his his thumb into your mouth and watching with heavy eyelids as he lowers you onto the couch. Your jaw goes limp as Haechan, seemingly entranced with swiping his thumb along your wet tongue.

“So warm,” he murmurs as he hovers above you. Haechan lowers himself between your open legs, “Your mouth I'd so fucking pretty, so fucking warm-”

He sounded exactly like he sounded when he was drunk. Sloppy, incoherent and not making much sense. But you could not discount the pool of wetness that glistened your underwear as Haechan continued to play with your tongue.

“Fuck-” He whispers, watching the saliva coat his finger as he unconsciously thrusts his bulge once again into your core. He seems too realise that he hadn't, in fact, pulled his cock out and he curses lightly before hurriedly moving to do just that.

“Your boobs-” He whispers as he pulls his aching cock out, “Please let me see-”

Before the words even leave his mouth you're pulling your shorts and top off swiftly. Haechan immediately doubles over, thrusting into the air once before he's fisting the base of his cock, as if he was on the cusp of cumming.

“F-Fuck, I think I need to fuck you now-” He said, already sinking deep into you. Your moans fight valiantly to drown out his perpetual whines before he buries his face in between your neck and shoulders. He's breathing heavily as he begins to fuck steadily up into you, releasing little melodic ‘hah, hah, hah's as he peels back to look down at you with heavy pussy-drunk eyes.

“Fuck it feels so good, Haechan,” he thrusts harder at that before lowering his lips to your nipple and sucking without ever breaking eye contact. The stimulation from your nipple and the head of his cock bumping into your cervix has your mind spinning with euphoria. You haven't even cum yet but this feels like you're trapped in that same state of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby you're so tight around my cock,’ his breath blows down against your wet nipple and you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. “If you carry on like this you're gonna make me spill inside you,” you throw your head back, mouth parting even wider as a chorus of moans leave your throat after his sentence.

“F-Fuck you want that? You want me to cum inside you?”

You cannot speak, completely fargone at this point but your cunt still clenching around him is all the answer he needs before he's ramming into you with urgency. “Fuck, you,make me feel so good Cupcake-” He's once again pressing his fingers into your mouth, as of needing to feel the warm wetness just to get off.

He's looking down at you as of you hung the moon, “F-Fuck I'm cumming-” He fights to keep his eyes open and watch you whine around his fingers as your own orgasm crashes in violent succession. You're both fighting to press your hips together, he's fighting to stay inside as an endless string of cum flights to push him out. You're both breathing heavily, both staring into each other's eyes as Haechan pulls his middle and index finger out of your mouth. You're absolutely speechless as he cleans his fingers with his own mouth, all without breaking eye contact.

“I… can't believe I came like that-” You say, eyes caught in a daze.

“Shit- I was supposed to rub your clit, wasn't I?” He's already slipping out of you and craning open your legs.

“N-No, Haechan I came, I promise I came. Fuck-” He's rubbing small circles against your puffy clit, using his cum as lube. “You have no idea how badly I needed you cumminh around my cock like that,” he says before spraying a gentle kiss against your knee. He's playing with your cunt, not to bring you to orgasm, you realise, but unconsciously. “We're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?”

You snicker lightly before nodding with finality. Thus, as the beginning of a new but interesting dynamic, in which you drove Haechan to study more while he, in the same breath, got you to open up more. He dropped your inhibitions and coaxed you out of your comfort zone…

#haechan x reader #haechan smut #haechan #haechan fluff #haechan fanfic #lee haechan x reader #lee haechan smut #lee haechan fanfic #lee haechan imagines #haechan imagines #nct dream x reader #nct u x reader #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream x you #lee dong hyuck x reader #lee donghyuck #lee dong hyuk smut

[femininemenon]

Hii! Sorry to bother you, but I just saw your post about that one GoT scene with "camera raw filter" and *have* to ask...what is that?! That looks insanely good. I tried doing a quick google search, and it seems like it's a Photoshop pluggin, maybe? I'm not too sure... Would you mind sharing a bit more about it, pretty please?

the post anon is referring to:

this is by no means an adequate guide or even a comprehensible explanation, but i hope it helps out somewhat.

you are correct, camera raw filter is a photoshop plugin. you can download it from here (works with 🏴‍☠️d/portable versions too): the installation is pretty straight forward, just do it as you would with any program.

before you do anything, make sure your screencaps are a smart object (it will obviously be faster if you add a camera raw filter after you've resized and added whatever it is you need to add, but you can always just do it with the original sized screencaps). it's easier to edit the properties from a smart object than to go back and try to get it right again from scratch.

you will find it under filter > camera raw filter… this will bring up a new window:

you can add as many of them as you need to. if you want to edit it because you think you've made it too bright or too blue or something, just double click on camera raw filter under your smart object:

if you're editing one scene and you would like for everything to look uniform, you can also just bring over your settings because they're smart objects:

okay enough yapping, back to what you came here for. let's go through all that i use/have used and how they work. you can mix and match them however you want - what works for one scene might not work for another.

the 'Light' section you can use to fix the light of the scene but i basically only use it if i want to "strengthen"/darken the whites and highlights. if your files are too dark or lack contrast, you can fix that here.

the 'Color' section!!! chef's kiss. this is what i used for the Sansa screencap. first you need to think about whether your screencap is too yellow or too blue, and then slide it towards the opposite direction. after i did that, it was way too green, so i used the tint feature to help out with that.

if you have handled today's media, you know that they haaaate color. so still in 'Color', in vibrance/saturation (i have never worked out the difference and atp i don't really care asdfghjkl) you can adjust that as well but it's for all the colors of the rainbow. you can enhance colors better in 'Caliberation' (see below).

i don't really use 'Effects', but the Vignette feature is a lifesaver if you encounter those. an example:

i have never touched 'Curve' but i image it works just like curves.

'Color Mixer' is good to manipulate colors. it's basically hue/saturation but lowkey better. if you switch to 'Color' in Adjust, you can edit them more accurately (Capcut has a feature similar to this i think).

ngl i don't have a good example of this now so enjoy this cartoonish something:

and we have arrived at my favorite!!! with 'Color Grading', you can fix almost anything: Midtones, Shadows and Highlights. it's basically a color wheel and you can try to find the black midtone and white points that will neutralize your screencaps. you can be more accurate with them if you click the circles in Adjust. basically a more freestyle curves i think.

lastly, 'Calibration'. you can also enhance or diminish colors here based on whether they belong in the red, green or blue primary. eg if you have a scene that's way too yellow, you can try and bring down the saturation in Blue Primary and it will help tremendously.

if you have any further questions, feel free to send me another ask!

#ask #anonymous #ps help #gifmaking #allresources #userzaynab

[lilacsandpetals]

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 2

Last part here.

Next part here.

Bi-Han x F! reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW, exploring emotions. Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

TW: Slightly violent thoughts, toxic behavior.

You waited for him that morning, he never came. 

—------------

You had picked up a mundane routine from there. The day would start with you waking up alone, seeing BI-Han in passing while you learned how to fulfill your own duties in your new role. You would come across him again at the dinner table with his family, feigning the act of a bashful newlywed. You would catch Tomas and Kuai Liang exchanging a glance with one another, meanwhile, Bi-Han would remain as serious as ever. Then you would retire to your bedroom, and spend some time reading before falling asleep alone. Bi-Han came to bed sometime after you would fall asleep, at least you assumed so. 

It was lonely.

You barely saw your husband, how did he expect this marriage to work? Today, was no different as you sat on the bench of the training area. You had already had some lessons on the administrative work of your future role this morning, and then you had been taught additional lessons of self-defense training. That proved more difficult on your body than anticipated, but thankfully today’s instruction was over. You were to do as you pleased until your evening meal. Sighing and standing to your feet, your eyes found their way to the garden nearby, you had seen it many times but were yet to check it out; so you figured spending some time there couldn’t hurt. 

The light breeze graced your skin while you entered the path spanning through the garden. The array of flowers was beautiful; pink roses, azaleas, blossoms, peonies, the list went on. You stopped by a tree teeming with blossoms and leaned back against it. Some of the petals danced with the wind as they blew away. A couple fell onto your hair and you carefully picked them off. 

You twirled the petals between your fingers, it was soft and delicate. You liked the change of environment. The vibrance of the garden was a stark contrast to the architecture surrounding it. Suddenly the sound of footsteps broke you out of your trance. 

“Wife.”

You looked up and Bi-Han gave you a curt nod. You gave him a small smile back. 

His hair was slightly tossed, and his breathing was a tad heavier than usual. Maybe he had been off training elsewhere? Or maybe he came back from some sort of mission? You wouldn’t know.

You didn’t know what to say, It was so difficult to communicate and you hated it. You had been married a few weeks ago and you still knew close to nothing about him. 

Bi-Han eyed you up and down before speaking. You couldn’t distinguish if he was eyeing you as if you were an adversary, prey, or something in between. “You… like those flowers?”

“I do.” You looked at the blossom petals in your hand before looking at him. “Are you taking a break? I don’t think I’ve seen you come by the garden before.”

He does find himself in the garden on occasion, but he finds no need to tell you that. “No, I only came to inquire about what you were doing here. I thought you had lessons to attend to.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up from the tree. You thought he had come to spend time with you, not check on you as if you were some child. “I’ve finished what was required of me today.” 

“Then I’ll leave you be.” 

You didn’t want him to leave, you craved a sense of connection with him. Maybe if you had a decent opportunity to talk to him it could spark something between you two. So you didn’t think about what he might say before reaching out and grabbing his arm. 

Bi-Han froze. You had barely touched him at all in the past weeks. Other than your hand brushing his at the dinner table every so often, he only recalled the way your delicate hands rested in his rough, calloused ones at the wedding ceremony. 

Your hands were soft, smaller than his. Foolishly, he sometimes wondered what it would be like to intertwine his fingers with yours.  

He slowly turned his face to look down at you. “What is it?”

“May I go with you?”

“No.” 

You shot him a confused look, “Why?”

“I am busy with things that don’t concern you.”

“I’m your wife, whatever concerns you, concerns me as well.”

Bi-Han raised an eyebrow, part of him wanted you to leave. He didn’t need a distraction. Yet a small part of him wanted you to accompany him, he wanted your interest, your attention. His conflicting feelings drove him mad these past weeks. He buried himself in his work and training, attempting to keep the thought of you at bay. You were still obstructing his focus even when you weren’t present. It enraged him that you had snaked your way into his mind. 

He would think of how peaceful you looked when you slept; your hair tousled, your lips slightly parted, and your expression serene. You slept in complete comfort as if you had no worries in the world. He thought about how you would still happily engage with the clan despite your own reservations, how you would speak and listen intently to whoever you came across. He thought about how you spoke with an aura of gentle concern. Your entire being seemed like the antithesis to him. He hated that he found it intriguing. 

Emotional attachments were never a plus. Yes, he had care for his brothers and his father, but that was already enough. He would take on the role of Grandmaster soon, and the necessity of logical rationale outweighed emotional interference. He need not invite anyone else in his heart, lest he grow weak like his father. 

The day his mother died, his father had broken down. He wallowed in his sorrows for far too long. Bi-Han watched the esteemed Grandmaster delve into that of a pathetic mess. 

Bi-Han missed his mother as well, he missed her dearly. But he never allowed anyone to see that sort of weakness from him. He was not opposed to comforting his younger brother, but he himself grieved alone, away from anyone else who might see his pitiful state, lest that be used against him. 

His mother had wanted him to be strong, not weak-minded. He was disappointing her and himself the more he found himself musing over you. 

Bi-Han took hold of your hand, more gently than you expected, and lifted it off of his arm. He held onto your hand for a moment too long before letting it go. “You are my wife in title, but that is all. Fulfill your own duties as I do mine.” 

Your hand returned to your side, and you let him go. 

He reminded you of a stubborn brat. 

—————

You left him be that day and went about your usual routine until you retired to your bedroom. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas, and a few of the other clan mates had left in a hurry. Apparently, something urgent had come up and you were promptly rushed off to your room.

You hated to admit it, but you were nervous. You hoped that nothing serious happened. It had been hours and you were still pacing your bedroom. You hoped your in-laws were without injury. 

You hoped your husband was okay. 

You know you two barely interacted, but still, you worried. 

‘What was taking so long?’

Your question is answered when the door flies open. Your room is dimly lit and Bi-Han stands in the doorway, panting and stomping over to a dresser that he kept his clothing in. He rummaged through it, tossing some supplies onto your bed. 

At that point, you’re snapped out of your stupor. “What happened??” You worriedly exclaim and rush to his side. 

He sighs deeply. He supposes it’s fine to disclose the ordeal since you do live here. “We had some intruders try to break into a few locations on the outskirts of the complex. They were skilled.” He kept it short and sweet. He wouldn’t disclose that the main concern was a suspicion the intruders may have been from Outworld. You and your clan were yet to know about that.

He slowly sits on the bed and grabs a bottle of some sort. 

“Let me help,” you say and reach out your hands towards his arm and the bottle. 

He instinctively leans back when you approach. 

That got on your nerves at this point. You had stayed up worrying for him, waiting for him to come back safely, and now you just wanted to help him feel better, and he resisted you even now. “You act as if I’m an enemy, I’m just trying to help you!” you snapped.

Bi-Han rolls his eyes “I would have killed you by now if you had been a threat to me.”

You grit your teeth, that wasn’t the point. “How charming,” you spat back.

At that, he snatches his arm away again. “I’m able to take care of myself. Leave.” 

He could be intimidating, yet you chose to stand your ground. You crossed your arms. “In case you forgot we both share this bedroom, I will not be leaving.”  

Bi-Han shot you an exasperated look. You were insufferable. “Then be quiet.” 

You raised an eyebrow, a retort hanging on the tip of your tongue, but he wasn’t even worth that. You closed your mouth and sat down on your side of the bed. He could take care of himself then. 

You were silent. You could hear him groaning in pain as he tried to clean the wound. Why was he so against your help? What had you done to him to make him be so cruel? You keep your face turned away but maintain a calm tone of voice “I am only trying to help you.” 

The desire for your help was there, but he’d be damned if he allowed it to happen. He was able to manage his own wounds, he’s been doing it since his mother passed away. But his resolve is tested when you dare to reach out your hand anyway. 

You’re testing your luck, but it’s the best you can do when things are so strained with him. You don’t speak but keep your grip on his arm firm. Something stops him from pulling away again, and you thank a higher power for getting him to calm down for once. He is tense, you can tell by how his arm is flexed and his shoulders slightly stiff. You dab some alcohol to the wound and unintentionally wince when you hear him grunt. “Sorry, sorry,” you mumble softly. The gash in his arm is deep, you can’t help but wonder who caused it, but you know better than to barrage him with questions now. You carefully wrap a bandage around his arm and step back, expecting some sense of gratitude from him, but you’re met with the exact opposite as he storms off out of the room. 

Frustration begins to bubble up within you, why was he so childish? It’s as if for every step forward you took, you ended up taking three steps back. You were trying your best to get closer, but if he wanted to act ridiculous then you’d leave him be. 

—------------

The training grounds were empty at this hour. Dimly lit and silent besides the sound of fists messily colliding with leather. Bi-Han hit the training bag again and again. Why did you have to interfere? Why did you have to make him feel the way that he did? He felt like he didn’t have control over something as simple as his own thoughts. You made him feel conflicted, uncomfortable at the desire you clawed out of him. 

He should have pulled away, but he let you tend to his wounds. And how lovely you looked while you did. He didn’t know when he started to focus on you in that manner. You looked so concentrated. A few strands of your hair hung in your face as you applied alcohol to the injury; he wondered what would happen if he reached out to tuck the strands behind your ear. You leaned forward and craned your neck slightly to the side as you bandaged his arm. Your neck appeared smooth and slender to him. He wanted to wrap his hand around your throat, he could crush it if he wanted to. Would he stop thinking of you then? 

A dull ache began to bloom on his knuckles. He would often cover his hands with ice by now, had his skin started to become irritated. Tonight he didn’t bother. He was desperate to feel something, anything else. The training bag began to wear out as the skin of his knuckles began to split open and bleed.

Footsteps began to emerge in his peripheral hearing, prompting him to halt his assault on the inanimate victim.  

“Bi-Han?” Kuai Liang asked confused. 

“What?!” he snapped.

“Are you not tired? Y/N must be waiting.”

“That’s none of your concern” Bi-Han scowled. 

Kuai Liang sighed. He had hoped marriage would melt his brother’s harsh demeanor, at least a bit. 

“Maybe. I don’t know what transpired between you two, but what use does sulking here have?”

Bi-Han clenched his jaw. His younger brother always knew how to get on his nerves. “Stop interfering with matters you know nothing about.” 

“Fine, I may not know what has caused you to come all the way out here, but I’d at least advise you to act rational.”

Bi-Han wanted to snap back at his brother but held his tongue. How was he being irrational? He was stomping out any chance of falling for such a trap by burying these irrational thoughts. When he didn’t respond. His brother continued his tirade. “Y/N married you out of a duty to her own family and tradition. Just as you have. Do you think she finds this easy?”

Bi-Han grit his teeth. “How would I know?” 

“You’d know if you spoke to her. You both took a vow to be tied to one another for eternity. At least become familiar with her.” Kuai Liang sighed. His brother had always been on the serious side, and his stoic nature only skyrocketed after their mother’s passing. They had always been close and as time passed he often found it hard to connect with his brother like this. 

Bi-Han didn’t respond for a moment, but he wondered if his brother ever dealt with such distractions. Yet an accusatory statement left his mouth instead, “You are not married, you wouldn’t understand what I’m dealing with.” 

“No, but I have someone I wish to marry.” 

At that, Bi-Han’s head snapped towards his sibling. Since when did he have a ‘special someone’? “Why would you even consider such a thing? I did it out of necessity to take on the role of Grandmaster. Why welcome a distraction into your life if your first priority is loyalty to the Lin Keui?”

Kuai Liang gave him a confused look before letting out a laugh that Bi-Han considered offensive. 

“What’s so funny?” He scowled. 

“Nothing. It’s just, why would I ever consider my lover a distraction? She motivates me to do better for her but also the clan.” Kuai Liang explained and stepped closer. 

Bi-Han couldn’t wrap his head around it. “I suppose your relationship is unique.” 

“How so?” 

“My wife distracts me, I can’t focus, she makes me feel weak.”

Kuai Liang crossed his arms and leaned back towards the wall. “What has she explicitly done to distract or harm you.” 

“She occupies my thoughts constantly”  Bi-Han stated in an irked tone of voice. 

Kuai Liang had to shield the look of stupor that threatened to show itself. “So she has done nothing to intentionally harm you.” Bi-Han didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to. He supposed his brother did have a slight point. She had not intentionally done anything to weaken him. As far as he knew anyway.

“You’re considering her in a negative light, that’s why she serves as a distraction. You ought to use the thought of her to drive your ambitions.” 

Kuai Liang stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder before his brother could counter. “She married you, she is Lin Kuei now. What she does will be for your betterment and the betterment of the clan. Don’t overthink it.” 

Before Bi-Han can counter him, Kuai Liang is practically dashing out of the door. He can hear his brother yelling at him in the distance but that’s all he can offer in words of advice right now. He is tired and his bed is practically calling to him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t worry for him. He was so closed off, and although he never said it, he often found Bi-Han’s behavior short-tempered and erratic. He would never show signs of weakness to any outsider and practically no one was privy to his thoughts or habits when he was distressed. Even their father had turned somewhat of a blind eye to Bi-Han’s behavior. Not that he thought their father had intentionally done so, especially when Bi-Han curated such a strong demeanor for the world around him. Their mother’s passing had hurt their father to a great degree and so he was dealing as best he could behind closed doors, and Bi-Han’s evolution into growing colder was gradual. He and Tomas grew up with Bi-Han, they could tell when he would be plagued with insecurities or troubles. 

He knows Bi-Han didn’t want this marriage, he knows that his older brother keeps a high guard up. But he also knows that Bi-Han aches for something that he can't quite pinpoint just yet.

—------------

You wake up to Bi-Han missing from his side of the bed again. You frown, you had hoped that last night would have shown your desire to grow closer. You switch the side you’re lying on and pause. You reach out your hand to brush your fingers gently against the petals of the flowers that lay at your bedside. The flowers are familiar and the fragrance is calming. The bouquet itself is small, tied together with a simple twine, but it makes you smile nonetheless.

—------------

Thanks for reading 💙

#bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #scorpian #kuai liang #things get worse before they get better #lin kuei #bi han x you