#the seven were all very close friends

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: December 7

"Wolverine" by Goghi

#song of the day #beautiful beautiful song very very fun to sing. about loving nature and wanting to bite people! ideal. pristine. #every line is the best line but the whole chorus is really something special #'I am the wolverine / get close I show my teeth and / no love for my own / I walk my path alone and #I am the submarine / deep hunter of the seas and / I sink enemies / making widows in the open ocean' #there's a little fuck I never know what that's called. what's it called #a little ripple-run in the melody on 'making widows in the open ocean' that brings such incredible joy. amazing song to sing #also--this has nothing to do with the song--I am so hungry #Nick has his friends over (which is good! not complaining about that. he did get permission and they're not rude or destructive so chill) #but our livingroom is now a minefield of people and beverages and popcorns I think that smell is popcorn #and to get to the kitchen I would have to pass through. step over all of them and walk between them and their videogames on the big screen #and I'm just not feeling it! #so we turn again to the grace and foresight of past-me and we reap the great pop-tart harvest #do y'all know how many boxes of poptarts there are under my bed? literally I do not know. I've just been getting interesting flavors #apple jacks. banana bread. snickerdoodle. apple fritter. eggo. cinnamon sugar pretzel. cinnamon roll. that's seven! #seven boxes of poptarts under my bed! I gave the boston creme pie and pumpkin pie ones to Nick bc they were gross but these are all good #I missed out on the vanilla latte and chocolate churro flavors sadly. they were before I started #(do you ever get halfway through a sentence and then you think: huh. my whole life to date and this is what I'm doing now. huh.) #anyway they were before I started collecting poptarts

[arthur-r]

here is the silly photo i got with him also

#my hands were shaking from being too excited. but here is me and the singer/lyricist/guitarist of one of my most favorite bands in the world #except for he’s some guy shdhdf they aren’t very famous but they are so so cool and his voice and lyrics are incredible #and guitar too!! but no like his voice is my range and so so beautiful and the words are all so strange and perfect #what a pleasure to repeat the words passed down from daddy.. breaking bread with twelve close friends until your early thirties!!!! #heavy metal fog orchard of god chewing my fingernails off lead me out into the trees like a child quietly!! #a pound of flesh rots in the trunk and i’ve got no excuse cause i cut it out of myself!!!! #right now i just wish i could get some gateway drugs and crawl around in your atrium til i die of old age up in your left lung!!!! #just to name a few. of my favorite lyrics shdhdhdf #across a long and storied career. of like seven years of music where the first ones are a lot more weirder and gross than the others #so anyway i’m talking. but here is me with poolboy seth and i’m very happy to have spoke to him again and got established #i really really want to open for poolboy one day. they’re usually openers which means that if they headline i stand a chance #anyways. here’s me and poolboy and i’m gonna go to bed now. but i have an autograph and a photo and what else can you really want in life #all i need is for my band to reverse its violent awful breaking up of a couple weeks ago and put out an album. so that poolboy can even hear #but no chance of that. so anyway i just need to go to sleep cause i’m pretty tired. but tonight was a good night. i hope everyone is well #also i’m moving out in one week exactly so wish me luck about that too. but anyways goodnight i hope everyone has a good night #me. my post. mine. #delete later #friends only

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.

sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.

“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.

a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.

you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.

katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.

then your name was brought up.

at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.

he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.

you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.

you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.

you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.

“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.

“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.

you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.

“ow !”

“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.

“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.

when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.

you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”

he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.

“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”

you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.

#just a silly little thing i wrote in record time in the bus #i love him sm yall dont get him like i do #just silly boyfriend katsuki tingz #him n my oc r childhood friends in my canon so thats why i made this #i love my boyfriend #I didn’t know how to end this one either #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x female reader #bakugo x oc

[dostoyevsky-official]

Last August, Lucy Letby, a thirty-three-year-old British nurse, was convicted of killing seven newborn babies and attempting to kill six others. Her murder trial, one of the longest in English history, lasted more than ten months and captivated the United Kingdom. The Guardian, which published more than a hundred stories about the case, called her “one of the most notorious female murderers of the last century.” The collective acceptance of her guilt was absolute. “She has thrown open the door to Hell,” the Daily Mail wrote, “and the stench of evil overwhelms us all.”

The case galvanized the British government. The Health Secretary immediately announced an inquiry to examine how Letby’s hospital had failed to protect babies. After Letby refused to attend her sentencing hearing, the Justice Secretary said that he’d work to change the law so that defendants would be required to go to court to be sentenced. Rishi Sunak, the Prime Minister, said, “It’s cowardly that people who commit such horrendous crimes do not face their victims.”

The public conversation rushed forward without much curiosity about an incongruous aspect of the story: Letby appeared to have been a psychologically healthy and happy person. She had many close friends. Her nursing colleagues spoke highly of her care and dedication. A detective with the Cheshire police, which led the investigation, said, “This is completely unprecedented in that there doesn’t seem to be anything to say” about why Letby would kill babies. “There isn’t really anything we have found in her background that’s anything other than normal.”

The judge in her case, James Goss, acknowledged that Letby appeared to have been a “very conscientious, hard working, knowledgeable, confident and professional nurse.” But he also said that she had embarked on a “calculated and cynical campaign of child murder,” and he sentenced her to life, making her only the fourth woman in U.K. history condemned to die in prison.

[...] The N.H.S. has a totemic status in the British psyche—it’s the “closest thing the English have to a religion,” as one politician has put it. One of the last remnants of the postwar social contract, it inspires loyalty and awe even as it has increasingly broken down, partly as a result of years of underfunding. In 2015, the infant-mortality rate in England and Wales rose for the first time in a century. A survey found that two-thirds of the country’s neonatal units did not have enough medical and nursing staff.

[...] A woman came to the hospital after her water broke. She was sent home and told to wait. More than twenty-four hours later, she noticed that the baby was making fewer movements inside her. “I was concerned for infection because I hadn’t been given any antibiotics,” she said later. She returned to the hospital, but she still wasn’t given antibiotics. She felt “forgotten by the staff, really,” she said. Sixty hours after her water broke, she had a C-section. The baby, a girl who was dusky and limp when she was born, should have been treated with antibiotics immediately, doctors later acknowledged, but nearly four hours passed before she was given the medication. The next night, the baby’s oxygen alarm went off. “Called Staff Nurse Letby to help,” a nurse wrote. The baby continued to deteriorate throughout the night and could not be revived. A pathologist found pneumonia in the baby’s lungs and wrote that the infection was likely present at birth.

[...] A team from the Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health spent two days interviewing people at the Countess [Letby's hospital]. They found that nursing- and medical-staffing levels were inadequate. They also noted that the increased mortality rate in 2015 was not restricted to the neonatal unit. Stillbirths on the maternity ward were elevated, too. [...] The Royal College could find no obvious factors linking the deaths; the report noted that the circumstances on the unit were “not materially different from those which might be found in many other neonatal units within the UK.”

[...] In September, 2022, a month before Letby’s trial began, the Royal Statistical Society published a report titled “Healthcare Serial Killer or Coincidence?” The report had been prompted in part by concerns about two recent cases, one in Italy and one in the Netherlands, in which nurses had been wrongly convicted of murder largely because of a striking association between their shift patterns and the deaths on their wards. The society sent the report to both the Letby prosecution and the defense team. It detailed the dangers of drawing causal conclusions from improbable clusters of events. In the trial of the Dutch nurse, Lucia de Berk, a criminologist had calculated that there was a one-in-three-hundred-and-forty-two-million chance that the deaths were coincidental. But his methodology was faulty; when statisticians looked at the data, they found that the chances were closer to one in fifty.

[...] “Looking for a responsible human—this is what the police are good at,” Schafer [a law professor at the University of Edinburgh who studies the intersection of law and science] told me. “What is not in the police’s remit is finding a systemic problem in an organization like the National Health Service, after decades of underfunding, where you have overworked people cutting little corners with very vulnerable babies who are already in a risk category. It is much more satisfying to say there was a bad person, there was a criminal, than to deal with the outcome of government policy.”

[...] Several months into the trial, Richard Gill, an emeritus professor of mathematics at Leiden University, in the Netherlands, began writing online about his concerns regarding the case. Gill was one of the authors of the Royal Statistical Society report, and in 2006 he had testified before a committee tasked with determining whether to reopen the case of Lucia de Berk. England has strict contempt-of-court laws that prevent the publication of any material that could prejudice legal proceedings. Gill posted a link to a Web site, created by Sarrita Adams, a scientific consultant in California, that detailed flaws in the prosecution’s medical evidence. In July, a detective with the Cheshire police sent letters to Gill and Adams ordering them to stop writing about the case. “The publication of this material puts you at risk of ‘serious consequences’ (which include a sentence of imprisonment),” the letters said. “If you come within the jurisdiction of the court, you may be liable to arrest.”

Letby is housed in a privately run prison west of London, the largest correctional facility for women in Europe. Letters to prisoners are screened, and I don’t know if several letters that I sent ever reached her. One of her lawyers, Richard Thomas, who has represented her since early in the case, said that he would tell Letby that I had been in touch with him, but he ignored my request to share a message with her, instead reminding me of the contempt-of-court order. He told me, “I cannot give any comment on why you cannot communicate” with Letby. Lawyers in England can be sanctioned for making remarks that would undermine confidence in the judicial system. I sent Myers, Letby’s barrister, several messages in the course of nine months, and he always responded with some version of an apology—“the brevity of this response is not intended to be rude in any way”—before saying that he could not talk to me.

[...] Michael Hall, the defense expert, had expected to testify at the trial—he was prepared to point to flaws in the prosecution’s theory of air embolism and to undetected signs of illness in the babies—but he was never called. He was troubled that the trial largely excluded evidence about the treatment of the babies’ mothers; their medical care is inextricably linked to the health of their babies. In the past ten years, the U.K. has had four highly publicized maternity scandals, in which failures of care and supervision led to a large number of newborn deaths.

[...] Johnson, the prosecutor, pushed her to come up with her own explanation for each baby’s deterioration. Yet she wasn’t qualified to provide them. “In general, I don’t think a lot of the babies were cared for on the unit properly,” she offered. “I’m not a medical professional to know exactly what should and shouldn’t have happened with those babies.”

“Do you agree that if certain combinations of these children were attacked then unless there was more than one person attacking them, you have to be the attacker?” Johnson asked at one point.

“No.”

“You don’t agree?”

“No. I’ve not attacked any children.”

Johnson continued, “But if the jury conclude that a certain combination of children were actually attacked by someone, then the shift pattern gives us the answer as to who the attacker was, doesn’t it?”

“No, I don’t agree.”

“You don’t agree. Why don’t you agree?”

“Because just because I was on shift doesn’t mean that I have done anything.”

[...] After a few days of cross-examination, Letby seemed to shut down; she started frequently giving one-word answers, almost whispering. “I’m finding it quite hard to concentrate,” she said.

Johnson repeatedly accused her of lying. “You are a very calculating woman, aren’t you, Lucy Letby?” he said.

“No,” she replied.

He asked, “The reason you tell lies is to try to get sympathy from people, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“You try to get attention from people, don’t you?”

“No.”

“In killing these children, you got quite a lot of attention, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t kill the children.”

[...] Toward the end of the trial, the court received an e-mail from someone who claimed to have overheard one of the jurors at a café saying that jurors had “already made up their minds about her case from the start.” Goss reviewed the complaint but ultimately allowed the juror to continue serving.

He instructed the twelve members of the jury that they could find Letby guilty even if they weren’t “sure of the precise harmful act” she’d committed. [...] The jury deliberated for thirteen days but could not reach a unanimous decision. In early August, one juror dropped out. A few days later, Goss told the jury that he would accept a 10–1 majority verdict.

[...] The public conversation about the case seemed to treat details about poor care on the unit as if they were irrelevant. In his closing statement, Johnson had accused the defense of “gaslighting” the jury by suggesting that the problem was the hospital, not Letby. Defending himself against the accusation, Myers told the jury, “It’s important I make it plain that in no way is this case about the N.H.S. in general.” He assured the jury, “We all feel strongly about the N.H.S. and we are protective of it.” It seemed easier to accept the idea of a sadistic “angel of death” than to look squarely at the fact that families who had trusted the N.H.S. had been betrayed, their faith misplaced.

Since the verdicts, there has been almost no room for critical reflection. At the end of September, a little more than a month after the trial ended, the prosecution announced that it would retry Letby on one of the attempted-murder charges, and a new round of reporting restrictions was promptly put in place. The contempt-of-court rules are intended to preserve the integrity of the legal proceedings, but they also have the effect of suppressing commentary that questions the state’s decisions. In October, The BMJ, the country’s leading medical journal, published a comment from a retired British doctor cautioning against a “fixed view of certainty that justice has been done.” In light of the new reporting restrictions, the journal removed the comment from its Web site, “for legal reasons.” At least six other editorials and comments, which did not question Letby’s guilt, remain on the site.

it looks like a british nurse was wrongfully convicted based on poor evidence and the tabloid media environment. this new yorker article is embargoed in the uk!

[osaemu]

GETO SUGURU: ❛❛ SNOWFLAKES IN MY STOMACH WHEN WE KISSIN' ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ your boyfriend can't be home for christmas? fine then, you'll just spend it with his best friend! but be prepared, 'cause your boyfriend's gonna be mad when he gets home. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. modern!au. best friend!gojo. degradation, spanking, p –> v, you guys are loud and you get walked in on! gojo gets slutshamed.. a lot. and he's very annoying!! also there's lots of borderline crack in this fic, have fun with that! 3.6k words, not proofread.

author's note: it's been a hottt minute since i've written for geto and i lowk forgot how to write him.. anyways.

“what do you mean, you’re not coming home for christmas?” you huff, hopping on your bed and lying on your stomach. 

the man on the other end of the phone sighs exasperatedly, and you can almost see suguru massage his temples when he replies, “i have work, baby. i’m sorry, but i really can’t miss this chance to—”

it’s the night before christmas eve, and you just learned that suguru won’t be home in time to spend christmas with you—obviously, you were upset, because you’d been looking forward to spending the holidays with him. but to your dismay, holiday season’s always the busiest time of the year for businessmen like suguru.

“fine,” you groan, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you do so, and you mutter something about life not being fair as suguru lists all the reasons he can’t be home by christmas morning.

“i have a big meeting with some potential investors tomorrow, and there’s no way i’ll be back by the morning after,” suguru explains tiredly. you can hear the sleepiness in his voice, but the selfish part of you wants to keep him on the phone longer—it’s only seven, and you could easily spend the next couple hours convincing him to come home sooner.

“but suguru—” you try, even though you know nothing’ll convince him at this point. 

“i’m sorry, honey,” he interrupts. after a moment, suguru’s voice softens and he continues, “i just can’t make it home by christmas. we can spend the day after together, though—i think i’ll be free for the rest of the week.”

you roll off the bed, stuffing one hand in the pocket of your hoodie—suguru’s hoodie—as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a mug of hot chocolate. the other hand still holds your phone to your ear, and you swallow back the rest of the protests you have to suguru’s absence.

“anyways, i gotta go,” suguru murmurs, obviously suppressing a yawn. “love you, baby. n’ i’m sorry, but i really can’t do anything about it.” 

he hangs up before you can reply.

almost instantly, you dial satoru’s number—he’s probably the only other person you and suguru both trust enough to confide in about your problems, and like always, satoru picks up right away.

“hey, satoru?”

“heyyy, i already heard about it from suguru,” satoru replies, and there’s some suspicious squelching sounds in the background. are those grunts, too?

“uh, what are you doing?” you ask tentatively, hopping on the counter and sitting with your back pressed against the wall. the oddly wet sounds continue for a couple more seconds, and then they stop. “satoru?”

“shit, sorry, i was in the middle of something,” he replies with a breathless laugh. “yeah, i’m done now. wanna see?” your phone lights up with an invitation to facetime, and you hit the ‘x’ immediately.

“no, i don’t want to see whatever the fuck you’re doing,” you grumble, ignoring his laughter. “you’re disgusting, i’ll call you ba—”

“no, i’m free, i’m free!” satoru interrupts, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “suguru won’t be back for christmas, right?” 

you pause and sigh, closing your eyes for a second. “yeah, he won’t be.”

“and you want a way to get him to come back sooner, right?”

“yep. you have anything in mind?” you ask, half-hoping that satoru’ll be able to come up with some genius plan to get your boyfriend to fly back here to make it in time for christmas. but if you’re being honest, you know that there are very few things that could convince suguru to drop his supposedly important meeting and come straight home.

and somehow, satoru devises a plan that makes you certain he will.

————

the next morning, you receive a text from suguru asking you to facetime—under normal circumstances, you’d just ask him to call instead since you’re at a cafe, but not today. today, you want him to see you and your mischievous little plan, so you eagerly accept.

“hey, sweetheart,” suguru says the second the call connects. his dark hair is pulled back into its usual half-down half-up style, and he props up his phone on something to use his reflection to adjust his tie. “how are y— wait, is that satoru’s jacket?”

you smile innocently and turn the phone to show satoru, who’s sitting just across from you at the table by the window. after satoru’s taken his time to wave and blow a kiss to suguru (who rolls his eyes in response), you turn the phone back and say, “oh, i just got a little cold. it’s pretty chilly down here!”

suguru frowns, brown eyes narrowing at your cheeky expression. “very funny. why didn’t you just bring your own jacket? or one of mine?”

oh, this is the question you’ve been waiting for. you shrug off satoru’s rather comfortable jacket and show suguru the tight, long-sleeved shirt you’re wearing underneath it. the fabric hugs your skin in a way that shows off all your curves, and even better, it’s a light shade of blue that’s somewhere in between the color of satoru’s eyes and hair. 

“i did! but then it just got so cold and satoru was nice enough to offer me his jacket,” you say nonchalantly, pretending not to notice the way suguru’s jaw tightens. you flutter your eyelashes innocently and smile at suguru, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes focus on your outfit.

“you jealous?” satoru chimes in, snatching the phone out of your hand and posing in front of it, admiring himself in the camera.

“no,” suguru mutters, but it wouldn’t take a genius to tell that he’s just lying through his teeth. satoru grins in response, making a peace sign with his hand and winking.

“good, ‘cause i’m gonna be hangin’ out with her all day long!” satoru cooes, blowing suguru another kiss before you swipe your phone back out of his hand.

“is he joking?” suguru grumbles, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. you shrug in response, not buying his cool and collected persona. you know suguru better than most, and the subtle way his shoulders tensed the second he saw you in satoru’s jacket gave it all away.

“nope,” you reply, soft lips tugging themselves into a little smile. “we might spend christmas together too, ‘cause you won’t be here. but i guess i don’t really mind anymore—satoru’s good company!”

satoru covers his mouth to hide his laughter at your comment, giving you a thumbs-up when suguru doesn’t reply. your boyfriend says something about already being late and having to go, and this time, you’re the one who hangs up.

“oh, we definitely got him,” you grin, smugly lifting your mug of hot cocoa and clinking it with satoru’s in a celebratory expression. satoru hums in agreement before he takes a sip of his cocoa, face growing pink at the sudden warmth.

“so, how long d’you think it’ll be until suguru texts you that he’s on his way?” satoru asks, leaning back in his chair and blowing on his cup to cool off the smoking-hot liquid.

“hopefully soon.”

“i’m betting on… three hours.”

three hours later, you don’t get a single text from suguru. four hours later, nothing. on the fifth hour, you finally receive a message from him, but it’s just a “how are you?”

“was that not enough?” you whine, half-looking at your phone as you walk through the mall with satoru. “how else can i convince sugu to come back by tomorrow?”

satoru shrugs, pulling the red lollipop he got from a toy shop’s cashier out of his mouth. “i mean, we tried jealousy, so how ‘bout we go the other route?”

you tilt your head curiously, waiting for satoru to elaborate. 

“y’know, why don’t ya tempt him in… other ways?” satoru wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and your face grows warm despite the chilly air around you.

“satoru…” you pause, face unreadable as you stop walking and turn to him. satoru holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for your verdict.

“that’s a really good idea.”

————

and that’s how you ended up in a clothing store, sifting through hundreds of dresses in search of one that’d be alluring enough to draw suguru back home.

“what color does he like on you?” satoru asks, seemingly oblivious to the strange looks he’s receiving from the other people in the store as he examines handfuls of dresses with interest. “red? black? white?”

you shrug, running your fingers over a form-fitting dress the color of suguru’s eyes. “i dunno, do you think he’d like this?”

satoru turns, takes one look at the dress, and instantly grabs it. “c’mon, let’s get you into a dressing room.”

the second you and satoru get there, the dressing room attendant gives you both a weird look. her eyes settle on satoru, and she asks, “weren’t you just here a week ago with another girl?”

satoru’s face goes redder than you’ve ever seen it. “uh, yeah, i was. oh, this one’s my best friend’s girlfriend, not mine—”

you shove him aside and hand the dress to the attendant, smiling bashfully. “just trying on this one, thanks.”

the attendant eyes satoru suspiciously and then nods. “okay, but he doesn’t get to go inside. last time, we got a noise complaint from the other customers.”

if you thought satoru’s face was red before, now it’s a shade redder than you knew was possible. in fact, you’re almost considering sending him to the hospital to get checked on as you close the dressing room door behind you and try the dress on.

it’s a little tight, but that’s expected given the skin-hugging fabric. after a couple minutes, you turn and admire yourself in the mirror—the dress, thankfully, fits perfectly. the fabric accentuates your features in the best way possible, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from staring in the mirror any longer.

“how do i look?” you ask, stepping out of the dressing room and doing a twirl for satoru. his jaw drops, and he nods instantly. 

“yeah, this is the one,” satoru affirms, taking out his phone. “want me to be the one to send the pics to suguru? that way we can still make him jealous!”

you give him a thumbs-up and blow a kiss at the camera, trusting satoru to take a flattering picture before you head back into the room to change out. on your way out of the store, you buy the dress at the counter—knowing suguru, he wouldn’t reply to satoru’s text, but you just knew he was dying to see you in that in person.

————

later that night, well after satoru’s gone back to his house and you’re relaxing in your own, suguru texts you again.

sugu: can we call?

you grin and roll over onto your back, nestling yourself deeper into your pillows before you dial his number. it only rings once before he picks up, and he instantly asks if satoru’s still with you.

“nah, he went home,” you say offhandedly, toying with the corner of your sheets. “did you like my dress?” you ask coyly, enjoying the way suguru pauses for a long second before replying.

“yeah, it looked good on you.”

“that’s it?”

“it really brought out your eyes.”

you bite your tongue to suppress a groan, instead opting to bury your face in a pillow instead. you had just spent the past twenty-four hours running around in circles, doing everything possible to get suguru to come back, and that’s all you get? really?

“anyways,” suguru continues, and you hear a soft rustling sound in the background—if you had to guess, he’s probably in bed right now. “how was your day, baby?”

“good,” you respond briskly, a soft scowl appearing on your face. suguru, being as observant as he is, picks up on the subtle change in your tone, but he doesn’t say anything. “satoru and i had a really good day. how was yours?”

suguru pauses before answering. “i missed you.”

“then come home, sugu,” you plead, even though you know that there’s no way he’ll be back in time. but it’s worth a try, right?

“you know i can’t,” suguru murmurs, exhaling softly. “no way can i get a flight back this late and make it back by tomorrow morning. i—”

“then get a sleigh!” you huff indignantly, unable to resist smiling when you hear suguru laugh. “please, sugu? christmas won’t be christmas without you.”

“just spend it with satoru,” suguru mutters under his breath, and that’s when you realize that your efforts haven’t entirely been in vain. he’s obviously sour that you spent the whole day with his best friend instead of him, and a small spark of hope starts to fester in your heart. 

“maybe i will,” you reply coyly, and you can hear your own smile in your voice—and you’re sure that suguru can hear it too. “anyways, i’m a little tired. good night, baby.”

“night.”

————

the next day, you host a party in your otherwise empty house—after all, it’s christmas, and it’d be rather depressing for you to spend it alone. so you invite satoru, satoru’s friends, and their friends, and so on. word gets around fast, and people show up in droves.

which is why you don’t notice when suguru himself slips in through the back door.

you’re giggling with satoru and his stoic friend kento when they both stop laughing, and you look up at them, confused. “what is it?” you ask, sipping the sweet liquid in your glass with a smile.

“suguru?” satoru asks, lips tugging themselves into a wide smile. “guess you didn’t wanna spend christmas alone, yeah?”

you turn around, half-expecting satoru to be joking. but to your surprise, your dark-haired boyfriend stands in front of you, smiling dryly. you stare at him for a solid two seconds, certain that you’re hallucinating. “sugu? but i thought—”

“thought you could mess around with my best friend?” suguru muses, arching one of his eyebrows. his suit’s a little wrinkled, and his hair’s more disheveled than normal, but somehow, he seems more alert than ever. suguru’s amber eyes go from yours to satoru’s wide blue ones, and satoru shrinks away from him with a nervous smile.

“i’m gonna go,” kento says offhandedly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving you, satoru, and suguru alone in the living room. 

“hey, bro, it was her idea!” satoru says instantly, raising his hands as if he’s a burglar in front of the police. you turn to him in disbelief, scoffing indignantly at his pitiful attempt to get out of trouble.

“no, it was your idea!” you insist, jabbing your finger at satoru. he gasps dramatically and pretends to faint, to which you roll your eyes good-naturedly. you turn back to suguru, rounding your eyes in an attempt to gain his favor. “i swear, sugu, this was all satoru’s idea!”

“you liar,” satoru grumbles, crossing his arms and huffing childishly. you turn and glare at him, and coupled with suguru’s unimpressed look, it’s enough to scare satoru off. 

and now it’s just you and suguru, alone in your mint-scented living room. christmas pop plays in the background from another room, and maybe it’s just the dim lighting but you swear you can see suguru’s face go a shade redder than before.

“hey,” you mumble, averting your eyes.

“hey,” suguru replies. he smiles, and just like that, all his features soften. “don’t you want to know how i got here so fast?” he drawls, reaching out and brushing something off your shoulder. his fingers trail down from your shoulder to your collarbone, which is all the more prominent thanks to the dress you’re wearing. incidentally, it’s the same dress you had sent suguru a picture of yesterday—maybe that’s why he can’t take his eyes off you.

“yeah, how did you get here so fast?” you ask curiously, suppressing a shiver as his fingers trace your figure down to your waist. suguru’s eyes go from your dress to your face, and he grins.

“well, i had to leave right before my meeting started and bribe some passengers with a shit-ton of money for their seats,” suguru starts, taking you by the hand and leading you to your shared room. “and believe me, it was a lot of money. and most people still said no, ‘cause they want to be with their families for the holidays.”

he makes a face as he pushes open the door, and stops in his tracks. your face grows warm as you realize that you had set up your room for him too—it’s illuminated with soft candlelight, the linen sheets are changed, and you—oh, you look perfect in suguru’s eyes. it takes a great deal of his willpower to stop himself from fucking you right there and then.

“oh, yeah, it was a lot of money,” suguru continues, smiling down at you coyly. “between the deal i just fucked up and the ridiculous amount of bribes i had to make, i think you owe me.”

suguru makes his way over to your bed and sits, spreading his legs and showing off his growing erection. you grin, following him and sitting in his lap. “did you miss me, sugu?”

“damn right i did.”

and barely a minute or two later, he’s got you face-down ass-up in the sheets, a calloused hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your increasing moans. “shh, wouldn’t want our guests to hear ya,” suguru whispers, breath hot against the side of your face.

you squirm underneath him, mind hazy from the feeling of his dick buried in you for the first time in.. how long? does it matter? “s-sugu, please fuck me,” you mumble, pretending not to notice the way he hasn’t bothered doing anything to you besides use you as his personal cockwarmer.

in the short time he’s been inside you, suguru’s barely moved—and fuck, he enjoys watching you squirm around and beg him to do more than just.. nothing.

“sugu, plea—”

he cuts you off with a slap to your ass, relishing the lewd whine that slips out of your lips in reply. “fuck, you thought y’could get me back here by fuckin’ with my best friend?” suguru cooes, shifting his hips. 

“we didn’t—”

“yeah, no shit, baby,” suguru interrupts dryly. “otherwise this’d be a lot worse for you—and for him.”

suguru’s dark eyes flit over to where the dress you bought lies, discarded somewhere in the corner of your room. he grins and uses his hand to turn your head, gesturing at the fabric. “and i bet he was the one who gave you the idea to do whatever the fuck that was,” suguru drawls, clicking his tongue. “tell me, whose idea was it to have him send me that pic? yours, or his?”

when you don’t reply, suguru sighs dramatically and grabs your hair, pulling your head up enough for him to lean down and whisper in your ear, “this’ll be a lot easier for you if you just answer—the—question,” suguru breathes, punctuating each word with another slap to your ass.

“it wasn’t m-mine!” you cry, looking up at suguru with shiny, rounded doe eyes. “i just wanted to—”

suguru cuts you off by pulling out of your drenched cunt just enough to allow him enough space to go back in, and his thrust is harsh and hits all the right places inside of you. your walls clench around him, and shit, suguru realizes that he missed fucking you like this more than anything else in the world.

“fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he hisses, shifting his hips again to allow himself more space to move. “did ya not touch yourself at all while i was gone?”

“n-no,” you stutter, swallowing another pornographic sound from escaping your lips. “i waited for you, sugu,” you gasp, feeling him hit spots you haven’t felt throb in a painfully long time. and fuck, you’re so out of practice that affer just a few thrusts, you’re mewling all over his cock and whining about how you’re close to cumming.

your vision gets speckled with spots of white as thoughts of suguru take up every corner of your mind, even as he teases you for getting so close so fast. but it’s not your fault you’re about to cum faster than you’ve ever done—you’ve tried fucking yourself with your fingers on times when suguru was out for work, but he’s spoiled you with his dick more than you can imagine.

and that’s why you cum all over his cock in what has to be a record-breaking time, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you mumble indecipherable words.

“aw, look at you,” suguru murmurs, stroking your hair as you tremble underneath him. even though it’s unbearably cold outside, it feels scorching hot in here—but maybe that’s because of both of your heaving chests in the aftermath of your orgasm.

“‘m sorry, sugu,” you mumble hazily, and suguru chuckles in response.

“it’s alright, baby,” he responds lightly. “y’know i like fucking your bratty cunt dumb every once in a while, heh.”

you two lie there, basking in each other’s presence for a little while longer before the bedroom door creaks open. and to your horror, satoru stands there, seemingly bored by the whole scene.

“can you two keep it down?” satoru groans, dragging a hand down his face. “we’re trying to have a karaoke competition, but you guys keep going agh—”

suguru hurls a pillow at satoru, cutting off his mocking moan. “you’re next, asshole,” suguru grumbles, getting off of you and covering you with the sheets.

“you’re gonna fuck me next? wow, what happened to hi, hel— oww, okay, i’m going, i’m going!”

#osaemu #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

[fruity-phrog]

Okay, I saw someone say that Nimona, while being good representation, “didn’t take the big step forward in queer rep that everyone says it did”.

That is wrong. So wrong, my dude.

Yes, an explicit and open queer relationship in children’s cartoons is not new, per ce. Hell, just this year, two popular kids’ cartoons had the main character in an open, adorable, plot-based queer romance. But this is different for a few reasons.

Reason number one, it isn’t left in suspense. Yes, they had that split for three odd weeks, but they started the film as a couple. One of the very first scenes is them together as a couple, Ambrosius saying he loves Ballister, them holding hands, Ballister leaning on Ambrosius’ shoulder. Ambrosius says he loves Ballister three times during the film, and none of them are any more than halfway in. It’s very clear, from their very first interaction, that they are an established relationship, which isn’t something I’ve seen...at all in other animation.

Secondly, they are the plot. Ambrosius not believing Ballister, Ambrosius cutting off Ballister’s arm, Ballister trying to get the video to Ambrosius - this is what drives the plot. In any other children’s animation with queer relationships, the relationship is not the main focus. Even The Owl House, which is so amazing with its constant representation, would still make sense if Luz and Amity never happened. But Nimona’s plot wouldn’t make sense without Ballister and Ambrosius’ relationship. It, quite simply, can’t be erased. It could work as a friendship, yes, but that’s the point. They could have just been two close friends that fell on opposite sides of a fight, but they weren’t. They were two lovers that fell on opposite sides of a fight. 

Thirdly, they aren’t sanitized for “family viewing”. An emerging trend in children’s animation is to only have mlm relationships as fathers to make them seem more “family friendly”. With the exception of Kipo, there really isn’t many tv shows or films that places light upon an mlm relationship. And if it does, it'll be a teen relationship because teenagers being queer tends to come across as less “dirty” and more “innocent”. But Goldenheart is none of these things. They are adults without the mollifying aspect of having a family. And on top of that, they fight. They wield swords and they get bloody and they shoot at things and get angry and yell. They aren’t “clean” and “innocent”.

As well as this, they are in a film. Films are far more accessible than tv shows. You have to watch twenty seven episodes before Lumity in toh is canon. Troy kisses Benson on the eleventh episode of Kipo. And there are two hundred and eighty three episodes of Adventure Time before Marceline and Bonnie kiss. But with a film, the queerness is much more forward - especially in Nimona, where it’s literally the second scene. Animated films hardly ever display queer relationships, but Nimona did.

Finally - they aren’t perfect. I don’t know about you, but three weeks of thinking your boyfriend/maybe ex is a murderer? Doesn’t sound like a healthy few weeks to me. I have only seen big relationship arguments portrayed in straight relationships in cartoons - think Star Vs The Forces Of Evil - whereas queer relationships either have the massive fight prior to being canonically gay - She Ra - or have conflict, not arguments, that are dealt with quickly - Dead End/The Owl House. But Goldenheart? Goldenheart suffers. Their relationship is pushed to such extreme boundaries as for them to be pretty much exes throughout most of the movie. And yet, they are clearly healthy, happy and very much in love at the end. 

TL;DR - Nimona is amazing with the queer representation, and it is a milestone for LGBTQ+ cartoons. Not only is the relationship romantic for the entire movie, the plot is driven by Ambrosius and Ballister’s sort-of-break-up. In short, they are treated the same way straight people are. They have flaws, they have massive arguments, they have plot importance, they have backstory. They are in love. And that’s what matters more than anything else. 

#cedar crap #wow I didn't mean for this to be so long #nimona #nimona netflix #queer rep in media #queer rep in animation #goldenheart #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #and I didn't even touch on the blatant queer flags in the background

[hhughes]

♯ 𝐈 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ◞ 𝑳𝑵⁴

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⤫ fem!bsf!reader x lando norris

✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ in which lando always misses his best friend (you) terribly when he travels as much as he does. so when you travel with him to the Chinese GP, he couldn’t be happier to have you by his side. However when you spend a few hours with Lily when lando and alex are busy with meetings, he can’t help but feel a bit of separation anxiety settle in.

✰ 𝐜𝐰 ⤫ just some fluff!

✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ my first time writing for lando!! the friends to lovers trope just never gets old and thus I shall never stop writing it.

lando was laying on his hotel bed, debating whether or not he should get up and retrieve the TV remote. he knew he wasn’t going to pay much attention anyway. his mind was elsewhere. specifically on that old brown clock on the wall, the obnoxious sound of tik-tik-tik making him hyper aware of every second that passes. every second that he was stuck in that hotel room and you were somewhere else without him.

he wasn’t stuck exactly. it’s not like he’s a prisoner that couldn’t go anywhere, he could very well call or text you, find out where you and lily have wandered off to and join the two of you. or simply snatch you away and bring you back here.

lando would like to say that he wasn’t usually this selfish with you, but that would be a lie. ever since he met you at that one karting event, lando’s been jealous of anyone else who gets to spend time with you.

he still remembers the day he met you like it was yesterday. it was just during the time period when lando began to really get into karting, he was maybe six or seven. he was good at it too, relishing in taking the number one spot on the make shift podium every time. and that was the case that particular weekend as well, although from the way everyone seemed to flock to you afterwards, you wouldn’t have been able to tell who won.

lando was really annoyed by it, making assumptions in his anger that maybe they only focused so much on you because you were the only girl, but later he would learn that it wasn’t the case. people flocked to you simply because you were… you.

lando wasn’t immune to it either because by the third time you guys raced each other, you had become best of friends. and even years later when your interest had gone beyond the race track and lando’s passion for it only intensified, you had still remained close.

therefore it wasn’t a foreign concept for lando not see you often. he was travelling most of the year, rarely in one country for more than a couple weeks at a time. and he knew how serious you were about your studies and now your job, you weren’t going to follow him around like a lost puppy, although he had tried to convince you more than once already.

on the rare occasion that you did fly out and visited him, he wanted every minute of your time to be spent with him, which is why he’s a little pouty that his meeting stretched long today and you had decided to occupy your time by going to explore the city with lily.

lando was aware that his mindset was a tad bit childish, but he hadn’t seen you all day and that justifies —

his thoughts get halted by a beep in the door, followed by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen making her way into his room. lando moves so fast he almost trips multiple times on the way to you. he’s sure he’s mimicking an over excited puppy. who’s been waiting all day for their owner to come home (as he has been) and getting excited and flocking to them as soon as they walk through the door (as he did) and then following and clinging to them for an ounce of attention (as he’s about to)

“hi lan,” you greet him, putting your shopping bags down against the wall and removing your jacket, hanging it behind the door

he doesn’t respond verbally, instead just wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards the bed.

“lan,” you giggle as he falls on top of the bed, pulling you with him. he tightens his arms around you and rests his head on your chest sighing constantly as your hands run through his hair

“lily asked if we wanted to go to dinner with her and alex tonight. I said I’d hear what your plans are first,” you say

“no. I’m not in the mood for other people. I only wanna see you right now. I really missed you.” lando says and you laugh softly

“you just saw me yesterday,” you say softly and lando purses his lips, resting his chin on your chest to look at you

“so? am I not allowed to miss you? are you saying you didn’t miss me?” lando asks, gasping in mock hurt and you laugh

“no I did. I always miss you. cause my best friend just had to go and choose one of the jobs where he’s rarely home and I barely get to see him,” you say dramatically, a smile on your face but it quickly fades when you see the solemn expression on lando’s face

“what’s wrong?” you ask, gently caressing his cheek and he leans into your hand

“nothing,” he replies but you give him a look and he sighs before saying, “I just wonder if it’s worth it sometimes. all the travelling, the never being home, the missing out on seeing my niece grow up. all the things I could’ve had by now,” lando says, looking at you as if he wanted to add to it but he’s holding back.

“what things? lan racing is all you’ve ever wanted to do. it’s your dream. your passion. it’s everything to you-“

“well maybe it shouldn’t be. maybe I wanna prioritize my personal life too. and maybe I wanna see you more than just three times a year,” lando says and your heart squeezes at the longing look on his face

“maybe I wanna stop being scared and tell the girl I’ve been in love with my life that I can’t go three hours without seeing her, let alone three months,” lando says, playing the the strings of his hoodie, vulnerability shining through

“you never said anything,” you reply, your heart beating so loud in your chest you can hear it in your ears

“cause it’s selfish. what can I offer you? I travel all the time. I’m barely home. I won’t be able to be there for you in the same capacity you’re there for me. and it would be unfair to ask you to travel with me all the time. it’s just unfair, and I won’t do it to you. but the idea of giving up racing…”

“is utterly ridiculous and you would be so unhappy,” you say and lando lets out a soft laugh. his heart swelling at the fact you know him that well

“yeah,” he agrees. furrow between his brows as he lets out a sigh

“the thing about racing is that there are so many things out of your control lan. and relying on that for your happiness is setting yourself up for failure,” you say

“well… there are certain things I can control,” lando says, looking at your lips briefly before lowering his head to yours, your lips connecting in a soft kiss that sparks butterflies in your stomach

“should’ve done that a long time ago,” lando says softly and the grin on your face mirrors his

“do it again,” you say and he laughs softly, pressing his lips to yours once more

lando knows in a few days he’s gonna have to miss you all over again, but as long as he gets to come home to you at the end of the day, everything’s gonna be okay.

#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✗ LN4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader

[lydiimae]

The stars, the moon

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI!

Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies

A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<

Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.

You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.

Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.

You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.

Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.

You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.

Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.

He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.

Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.

You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.

When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.

He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.

You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.

He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.

So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.

The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.

His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.

You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.

You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.

You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.

He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.

He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.

So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.

You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.

He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.

Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.

Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.

He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.

You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.

He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.

He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.

He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.

"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.

"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.

"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.

Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.

He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.

He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.

Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.

As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.

One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.

He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.

"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.

He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.

He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.

Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.

He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.

He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.

After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.

You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.

He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.

You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.

He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.

He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.

He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.

You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.

He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.

He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.

He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.

The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.

After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.

"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.

You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.

You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.

"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.

The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.

#anthony bridgerton smut #fanfic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton smut #smut #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x female reader #y/n #x y/n #x reader #reader insert #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgertonx fem!reader #18+ only #anthony bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton oneshot #(?) #anthony bridgerton being a cutie pie stfu

[moonchild1]

min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)

she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

stalemate by @shina913 f s a

↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a

↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk

↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk

↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

after hours by @archivedkookie f s a

↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a

↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a

↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a

↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj

↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs

↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”

isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a

↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk

↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)

mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s

↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a

↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity

naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj

↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.

babydoll by @jungcock s a

↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.

eleven months by @bratkook f s a

↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

darksided by @eoieopda f s a

↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs

↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too. 

one-shot

bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s

↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?  

breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s

↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a

↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj

 ↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.

under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a

↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj

↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a

↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

angel by @sailoryooons f s

↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences

a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f

↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

last nite by @tayegi s a

↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan

zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a

↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie? 

heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a

↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

heavy sugar by @kinktae s

↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s

↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

calling the shots by @chans-room f

↬ College basketball captain Yoongi

until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a

↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan.  When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a

↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s

↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.

you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a

↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞

spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a

↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a

↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.

now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a

↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

stay by sugarwithtea f s a

↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.

when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f

↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj

↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.

on the court by @centerhaechan f

↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.

sugar by @zehakoo f s

↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a

↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

the dark by @/bratkook s

↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs

↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.

fermata by @jeongi f s

↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.

private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s

↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…

first love by @geniuslab f s a

↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

#kiki!fic!rec #kiki's library #yoongi #yoongi fic recs #bts fic recs #bts yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi:fluff #yoongi:smut #yoongi:angst #yoongi:oneshot #yoongi:series #bts smut #yoongi series #yoongi smut #min yoongi #min yoongi fanfiction #favourites!myg #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x yn #yoongi fic #yoongi bts #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

[astraystayyh]

The snow falls, we fall apart.

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

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

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

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

winter falls masterlist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two weeks ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deny, deny, deny.

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What next?”

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

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

“How are you surviving without me?”

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

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

“They’re for Yn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, run faster!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand.”

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

And Hyunjin loves winter.

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the cupcake?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In my free time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

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

“Do you promise me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As do mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

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

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

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

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

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

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

Five days later.

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

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

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

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

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

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

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

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

“You’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin!”

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

“I'm not coming!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you want to say thank you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It's beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A week later.

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

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

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

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

“I know. We are so lame.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, my Yn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x you #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin imagines

[star-sim]

boy's night ☆ riki nishimura

☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words

"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.

Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.

There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.

Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.

Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.

Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.

He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.

Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.

Enter: You.

You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.

Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.

You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!

Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.

"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.

"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.

"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"

With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.

"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—

".... But you think she's pretty, right?"

And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.

And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.

So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.

It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 

The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.

The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.

"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.

"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"

Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.

"Move your fatass head!"

"I can't see!"

As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.

What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?

His head was spinning.

"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.

"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.

"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.

"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.

"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"

"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 

"Why is that a bad thing?"

All of his friends groaned.

They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.

Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.

"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"

"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.

"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"

"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.

"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."

Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."

They all groaned loudly.

"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"

Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.

"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 

Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.

"She responded!"

Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"

"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"

And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.

[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"

According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.

"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"

"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"

"I agree," Sunoo said.

"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"

But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.

"Riki, what are you doing?!"

Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.

I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.

When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.

"It's over."

"You're insane."

"Fumbled."

Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"

The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.

You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.

"Good game, guys."

"100% over."

Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?

But then you finally replied.

My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.

Oh.

My.

God.

Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.

I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 

"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"

Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.

"D-Did she just ask you out?"

Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."

"Yes?!"

Riki blinked again. "Yeah."

.

.

.

And then it hit him.

"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #niki enhypen #niki fluff #niki x reader #nishimura riki #riki imagines #riki fluff #riki x reader #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki fluff #riki enhypen #riki nishimura #star-sim #vanya-writes

[m00nlight-ramblings]

I Wanna Be Yours

(I've had this idea since I've seen like, a million 80's movies in succession). You're close to valedictorian, a known smarty-pants. So imagine your surprise when you become friends with Eddie Munson...and then fall in love with him.

Pairing: Eddie x female reader, friends x lovers, dual pov

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), swearing

*MINORS DNI*

Word Count: 4.16k

REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!

"Oh, fuck where is it?" You loudly murmured, shuffling the books in your locker. They clanged around, sending soft bonk! noises and reverberations through your locker, which only made you more annoyed. You huffed, dropping your arms by your side. You only had a few minutes before you had to be in class, and you couldn't find your fucking book.

You groaned and started the process again, knowing you'd probably be fruitless - you've only checked like, 100 times, so at this point you'd just have to accept the fact that you'd somehow forgotten it at home. It also didn't help that your locker was stacked to the brim with books, folders, papers, and miscellaneous things you've collected in just a month since school started

"Um...you okay?" A voice asked behind you, startling you out of your frustrated trance. You turned to see Eddie Munson standing there, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear and tilting his head. Slightly embarrassed, you shrugged and huffed (again).

"Yeah I just...can't find my chemistry book. And I have class in-" You checked your watch, "Seven minutes." (And it also just so happened that chemistry was your worst class so you like, really needed this damn book).

"Want me to check?" He offered, gesturing to the locker. You paused a moment, and furrowed your brow. Then, you stepped aside, giving him access to your locker. He stepped forward, leaning into the locker and started gently exploring.

"Yeah, you can try but I don't think you'll find it. I've checked, like, a hundred times and I think I just left it at home and-"

"Here it is! Chemistry you said, right? You're looking for..." Eddie took a moment to examine the cover of the book. With a boisterous (and very silly) voice, he spoke, "Chemistry 301: Principles of Organic Chemistry?"

You gasped and smiled at him, snatching the book from him and staring at it. How did he find it? "Oh my god, are you kidding? I've been looking for this thing for like, 10 minutes. Where was it?!"

Eddie chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly, "Right in the front."

You looked at him, "I could hug you right now, oh my god! Chemistry is my worst subject and I can't even focus in that class if I don't have the book with me and...ugh. You're a life saver. Thank you." You beamed, hopping on your toes a little.

You and Eddie never really spoke, but of course knew each other - everyone in Hawkins did. Having a few classes with him over the years, any conversation you ever had with him was in passing. But after him your book for you, and seeing his smile..."The Freak" didn't actually seem all that freaky at all.

"Yeah, well, no worries. I'm just a good ole knight in shining armor, I guess." He bashfully made a face, causing you to giggle. "Actually...I just wanted to come over and thank you for something."

Confused, you cocked my head to the side, "Thank me?"

Eddie nodded, stepping aside so you could close your locker, "Yeah. I heard from Wheeler the other day that he dropped all his books and shit in the hallway and you helped him grab everything," His smile was soft...if you weren't looking so hard at his face (why were you staring?), you'd have missed it, "That was nice. So...thanks."

You nodded, mirroring the small smile. "Wheeler as in...Mike Wheeler? The freshman?" You thought back to a few days ago, "Yeah...he said he tripped, but Craig from the football team was lurking around so I have a feeling Mike didn't trip all by himself," I rolled my eyes, "People can be dicks sometimes so...anyway. I know what it's like to be a freshman." You slowly started to walk to class, Eddie following in line next to you.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Eddie cleared his throat and spoke again, "So...chemistry's not your best subject, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, "Definitely not. I hate it...it's so hard. My favorite class is English."

"English? Hey, mine too. What's your favorite book?"

You pause, furrowing your brows again, "...don't laugh."

He throws his hands up in an "I'm innocent" movement, "Cross my heart."

You take a moment before you speak, "I like 'The Hobbit'. I've read it, like, a million times. I re-read it like, once a year-"

"'The Hobbit'? I like that one too!" Eddie smiled widely, "...do you listen to Led Zeppelin by any chance?"

You laugh, "Are you about to tell me that 'Ramble On' was inspired by 'The Hobbit?" You watch his eyes widen slightly.

"You know that already?"

You nod, "My dad loves them. Has all their records. He can't help but spit out random fun facts about that stuff. I like them, too," You find yourself in front of your chemistry class, "Well...this is me. Thanks for finding my book again, Eddie."

He leans his shoulder against the wall and smiles. You notice his eyes flicker quickly to your lips and back to your eyes again before he speaks, "No problem. Thanks for helping Wheeler. I'll...see you around, I guess?"

You nod, looking back at him while you head into class, "Definitely."

And that was the start of you and Eddie.

Eddie didn't know what had come over him that day, helping you out at your locker. Wheeler had mentioned once that you seemed cool (Henderson enthusiastically agreed), and ever since then, he was convinced he had to thank you. Not just because you had helped his friend (which was cool), but also...had you always been that pretty?

Sure, you two didn't seem to have anything in common - you were known for being one of the smartest kids in school, with like 1,000 extracurriculars, bound for some Ivy League on the East Coast, and Eddie was...well, Eddie. Now in his third try at being a senior, school wasn't necessarily his strongest subject. But, you hadn't ever played in him being a freak, and always seemed kind so...he figured it would be safe to thank you for being so nice to his friend.

Because that's all he wanted to do...was thank you. That was all. Definitely not flirt with you or anything.

After that moment at your locker, Eddie seemed to run into you everywhere - lunch period, the hallway, even the mall that one time he actually went because he needed to pick up some D&D books from the bookstore. And slowly but surely, "running into each other" turned into:

"What do you mean she's just watching?" Dustin asked one day, setting up the drama room for Hellfire Club, "You never let people just watch. They always have to play. Is she going to play?"

"No, Dustin, for the hundredth time explaining, she is not playing. She is watching. Do you have a problem with her? Mortal enemies or something?"

Dustin eyed Eddie and shrugged, eventually going back to setting the table up, "No I just...you never let people watch..." He starts to grumble, "I guess in order to watch you need to have boobs, or something..."

That night at the game, Eddie wasn't his best DM self. He was distracted - probably had to do with the hours of homework he "needed to do", and definitely wasn't because you were there, sitting next to him, intently watching the game and reacting. It definitely didn't have anything to do with your cute gasps, or little squeals, or laughter whenever something happened.

Definitely not, at all.

At one point in the game, you tapped him on the shoulder. He leaned into you, not taking his eyes off of the rest of Hellfire Club, who were currently engrossed in trying to figure out their next strategy.

"Yes, m'lady?" Eddie asks in a British accent.

"Wouldn't Henderson's character be able to go through that door? Like...isn't he really charismatic? So like...can't he convince the guard to let them pass? I know he's not like, the main dude in the game or whatever but..." Your voice trails off as you realize that maybe you were too off base. You didn't really know the game at all, but that seemed right...right?

Eddie nodded slowly and his eyes darted over to you quickly...you were right. Holy shit...you were right, and Eddie totally didn't see this lapse in judgement. He smiled at you and took note of how his heart seemed to flip into his stomach, sending a quick shiver down his spine.

Shit. He was in trouble.

"Eddie, can you turn it down a little bit? I'm trying to concentrate." You groaned slightly, shifting your head in your hand as your eyes scan the textbook in front of you. Not that it's really doing anything since you can't seem to retain any information at the moment.

Eddie, who was currently practicing his air guitar solo to Metallica's "Ride the Lightning", gave three quick headbangs before turning down the music, but immediately went back to air guitar.

"Aren't I supposed to be helping you with your science homework?" You asked, a little annoyance rising, "If you're gonna be distracted, I'm gonna go home. I have like, a million college brochures to go through and-"

"No! No!" He immediately stops and stands at attention like a soldier, salute and everything, "Okay. I'll stop." He jumps on the bed next to you, sending a pencil fly in the air. He caught it and stuck it behind his ear, "Okay. Science!" He clapped his hand and rubs them together like a mad scientist.

You chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, gently shoving his shoulder beside you. "Okay, so, when dealing with organism structure, you have to remember that everything is made up of cells, right? So when thinking of specialized parts of the body-" You look up to see him staring at you, definitely not paying attention to what you're saying. "Eddie..."

He snaps to attention and smiles bashfully, "Sorry. I'm...distracted?" His eyes dart to your lips again and your heart does that annoying "pounding in your chest" thing it does basically every time Eddie looks at you.

"Do you want to be a senior for a fourth time?"

He playfully shakes his head, "Nope. Definitely not."

"What's got you so distracted, anyway? Thinking about your date with Mindi tomorrow?" You probed him a bit, trying to get more information out of him. When you had become friends with Eddie, he definitely had his fair share of..."girlfriends". Which at first, you didn't mind.

Not that you minded now, but...five months after initially becoming friends with him, you would just prefer if you were his girlfriend.

Eddie's face flushed and he looked away, throwing the pencil behind his ear on to his dresser across the room, "Oh, Mindi? No, I...cancelled that. Like, a week ago." He suddenly got off of the bed and started to pace around his bedroom a little. I watched him for a moment before speaking.

"Why? Weren't you like, so excited to take her to the movies? You said she was soooOoo hot and blah blah blah-"

"I'm just not interested in her anymore." He interrupted you, stopping his pacing. He turned to face you and didn't break eye contact, his eyes seemingly staring into your brain.

Did he know? Did he know how you had fallen for him?

It started slowly, in a way you didn't even recognize - he made you laugh more than other people, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, and he was so kind...not only to you, but to his friends, and even your parents when he'd come to pick you up on a Friday night with the group. He'd always come to the door, always make small talk with your mom. Not only that, but he was a gentleman, which surprised you - opened doors, pulling out your chair...

Not to mention, when it was late at night and you couldn't sleep, you couldn't help your thoughts turn to his hands in your hair, his dick inside of you, whispering your name over and over again.

The sudden realization that you were falling in love with him slapped you hard in the face - one day after school, you two were walking to his van for a ride home and someone's car blew past you in the parking lot, seemingly out of nowhere. You were about to step out but Eddie pulled you back, your body immediately pressing against his, your face mere inches from each other.

The air was electric, and you couldn't look away from his eyes. Finally, he spoke, "...you okay?" His voice was husky, low. It sent goosebumps down your arms, which were currently being held by Eddie's. You could only nod, words escaping you. Finally, Eddie broke the spell by screaming at the car, "JESUS CHRIST YOU PIECE OF SHIT WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING BEFORE YOU FUCKING KILL SOMEONE!"

Back in his room, you eyed him. "Why aren't you interested in her anymore?" You asked quietly, sensing the air shift. It felt more tense, more heavy.

What the fuck was going on?

Eddie, seemed to zone out for a second, taking a piece of his hair and chewing on it lightly. His eyes were focused on the floor, "Maybe...I think because...I'm interested in someone else?" It came out as a question, not a statement.

You swallowed hard. He was acting strange. Your heart started to beat strong enough that you heard it in your head. "...who are you interested in, then?" You asked. You took the textbook you were reading and closed it, putting it on his bedside table. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Please be me, please be me, please be me! Your brain was shouting so loud you were surprised he couldn't hear it.

Eddie looked up at you quickly and then back down again, his face unreadable. Which was concerning, because Eddie's face was always an animated as a Muppet.

Was it hot in here?

Taking a step forward, he was standing at the foot of the bed now. It seemed like he was thinking...hard. "I..."

Before he could even start, he finished. The single word hung in the air, causing your heart to race even faster and your head to swim. You WHAT, Eddie? You felt like you were about to lose your mind. Was he going to say it or not? Were you going to find out, or not?

"I'MINLOVEWITHYOU." You said loudly, the words spilling out of your mouth before you could even stop them. You gasped and clapped your hand over your mouth, hoping that somehow that action would suck the words back in, as if it never happened. Eddie's head snapped up and he stared at you. The air had been sucked out of the room in one fell swoop, and you could feel embarrassed tears prickle at your eyes. "Oh, god, Eddie...I-I-"

Oh no...what had you done? You had just ruined something between you and one of your closest friends. No more movie nights, no more homework sessions, no more late night phone conversations-

In a single motion, Eddie was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours. You didn't have time to even think, but your hands immediately found their way into his hair, cradling his scalp as he pressed his body into yours. You gasped at his initial contact but quickly found yourself melting into the kiss. Eddie moaned into your mouth, his tongue gently asking permission to open. Once granted, he hungrily kissed you, pressing your back into the bed.

"Eddie..." You breathed as you pulled back a bit, looking at him. He smirked and started to pepper your chin with gentle kisses, a far cry from the kiss that had started the whole thing.

"Mmmmyes?" His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you. Suddenly he pulled back, his mouth agape, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No-" You almost shouted, "No, I-"

"I love you too." He said quickly, a flush coming to his face, "I...love you too. I have. For a while."

You smile, heart feeling like it's about to explode. You pulled him back into a kiss, using your tongue to explore his immediately. He moaned, pressing his groin into yours. You felt an instant rush of wetness to your panties as your hands found their way to the nape of his neck. Eddie pulled away from the kiss, his hand gently finding it's way to the top of your pants. He looked at you and you nodded, and he quickly undid the button, pulling them down, exposing your pink cotton underwear, which you felt was already starting to soak through.

Eddie hissed as he slid down your body, pressing his mouth to the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped lightly, watching him. He was quite beautiful - his hair starting to dampen with sweat at the hairline, his eyes shimmery, hungry for you. He pressed his tongue down flat on your wet spot once - teasingly - and leaned up again, removing his shirt.

Your head was still swimming as he fully pulled your pants off at your ankles, gently spreading your legs, and pushing your underwear aside. He laid on his stomach, getting comfortable, and wrapped your legs on his shoulders. He quickly glanced up at you, his eyes dark.

"Your pussy is so fucking beautiful." He said, his voice a low growl. His voice caused you to whimper slightly, and before you could even think, his tongue was moving in action, teasing your clit in small, wet motions.

"Oh, fuck, Eddie-" You couldn't think as the pleasure started to rise.

"You're already so wet for me, princess," He said, going back to your clit again. He paused to pull your underwear off but was quickly back in your pussy, moaning as if he was eating a delectable meal. He switched between quick, teasing moments, and flattening his tongue against the entirety of your pussy. You weren't sure if it was because he was just that good, or if it was because you had quite literally been dreaming of this moment for a while, but after a few minutes, you felt the coil in your lower belly start to tighten.

"Fuck Eddie...you feel so fucking good. I-I-I'm close, I think-"

"Come for me." He spoke into your pussy, suddenly slipping a finger in. Slowly at first, he started to finger you, curving his finger in an upwards motion while inside. You shrieked, immediately grabbing his hair with both hands. He responded by growling into your mound, concentrated on sending you over the edge.

Suddenly, the coil snapped and you moaned his name, no longer in control of what came out of your mouth. Your head was swimming with hot pleasure, beads of sweat gathering on your temple as your hips bucked into his mouth. Eddie slipped his finger out and gave your clit a final, gentle kiss before he slid out from under your legs and sat on his knees. He stared at you and started to shake his head, smiling.

"So fucking sexy..." He murmured, unbuckling his pants. Quickly, you reached up to help him and he looked at you.

"Just trying to get your pants off faster," You said, a blush rising to you.

"And why's that?"

"I need you. To fuck me. Right now." You said, dragging his pants down. He chuckled and stood up, shaking his pants down to his ankles. The length of his cock sprung up in his boxers, creating a tent that your eyes immediately fell on. He paused a moment and took his boxers off, his cock already glistening with precum. He slowly made his way back to you, laying on top of you. His cock laid in between the lips of your pussy, causing you to moan slightly. He sucked on your neck, a hand finding it's way to your hair and tugging slightly.

"You're awfully greedy." He purred into your ear teasingly. You heard him open his bedside table drawer, grabbing a condom and snapping the draw shut. Kneeling up again while discarding the condom wrapper, he rolled the condom on his dick achingly slow, never taking his eyes off of you. You felt a new rush of wetness slide through your pussy, and you opened your legs up more.

Eddie stroked his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance, which was already aching with pleasure. He leaned forward, his forehead touching yours. Your breath hitched in your stomach as he looked into your eyes and you nodded, giving him the go ahead. His dick slid in without resistance, causing you to moan loudly and his eyes to roll back.

"Shit, baby, you're so fucking wet," He hissed, starting to thrust slowly into you, "So fucking tight. Fuck s'good."

Eddie's cock filled you, every thrust sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You couldn't help your moaning - thank god Eddie's uncle wasn't home - and you felt like you were almost having an out of body experience. As Eddie started to speed his thrusts up, your hands find their way to the back of his hips, and your nails started to dig in deeper and deeper.

"Yes. Right there. Right there, Eddie. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" You stammered as he hit your walls. He grunted, panting, his hair tickling your face.

"Right there, baby? You like it right there?" He spoke, his voice a guttural growl, "You gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Be a good girl for me and show me."

His words shot through your pussy in combination with his thrusts, the sound of his dick slipping in and out of your wet pussy driving you over the edge. Sloppy kisses were exchanged as one of Eddie's hand found it's way underneath your shirt and bra, fingering a nipple.

"Fuck...I should've taken this shit off before we started." Eddie mumbled, still thrusting. You replied by whipping the shirt above your head, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the ground. Eddie's eyebrows raised and he smirked, leaning down to immediately take your nipple in his mouth. Your back arched and you gasped, one hand pushing Eddie's head down on your tits, and the other pushing his ass down to fuck you harder.

"Harder and you're gonna make me come again." You whimpered. Eddie responded by taking your nipple in his teeth, sucking harder and harder.

You started to see stars. You had never felt this type of pleasure before, and you never wanted it to stop. The combination of Eddie's cock, his mouth, and his words were about to send you careening over the edge.

"Oh, god-"

"Oh fuck, baby. I'm gonna come." Eddie said, his face finding your neck again. The hand on his head found its way to his chin, cradling it. His hair swung back and forth, and his eyelids were half shut, a deep crimson rising in his face.

"Come for me. Come with me-" Was all you were able to get out before one final thrust from Eddie sent you over the edge, causing you to scream his name, your hands finding his sheets and gripping for dear life. Hearing your screams caused Eddie to moan loudly, his whole body tensing as he spilled into the condom. He said your name, not quite as loud as your screams, but with matching intensity.

The only noises that could be heard were panting from the both of you. After a moment, Eddie slid out from inside of you, falling to the side of you and immediately taking you into his arms, kissing the top of your shoulder.

"So..." He finally said, a small chuckle playing on his words. You giggled and turned to face him, looking into his eyes.

"So."

"Now that we've established we're absolutely head over heels for each other", Eddie started, placing a kiss on your forehead, "And we're both incredibly sexually compatible..." Another kiss, "Is it like, totally corny to ask you to be my girlfriend or...no?"

You giggled again, running a hand through his hair, "I don't think so. I'd say yes, i think."

"You think?!"

"I'm kidding!" You laughed, sitting up on your elbow. You started to trace circles on his chest, the air falling back into place again. "So what now?"

"What now?!" Eddie asked. Boasting his best DM voice, he sat up and waved his arms in the air, "There's a whole big beautiful world we get to discover now together!"

You smirked, running a hand down his bare thigh, "But what if...I just want to stay in bed?"

A blush rose on Eddie's face and he smiled, looking at your lips, "Oh, well in that case, there's a lot to discover in here, too."

He reached over to his bedside table and opened the drawer again.

------

Whew, a doozy! What did you guys think?! My first time writing smut but it was just a little idea I had on my mind for a bit so I had to get it out. I love me some cute Eddie ideas.

REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fan fiction

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Two.

Chapter One. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings - smut. cursing.

Word Count - 4k

Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.

You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.

You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.

That's when it hits you.

Bucky.

The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.

Your Tethering.

To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.

His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.

You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.

"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.

"Good morning, Buck."

You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.

"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."

He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.

"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"

"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"

"Perfect. See you then."

"See you then."

It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky arrives at 8:45.

You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.

You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.

Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.

You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.

He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."

"I think that sounds perfect."

He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You know nothing about sailing.

Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.

You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.

"Creep," you tease.

"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.

He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.

"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"

"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."

You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.

"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."

You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.

"What?" you laugh.

"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."

"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.

He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.

"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.

"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."

"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.

He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.

"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.

"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."

"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."

"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."

He thinks for a moment.

"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"

He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.

"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."

Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.

"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."

"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."

"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.

The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.

You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.

He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.

"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."

"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.

"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."

"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.

"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."

Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.

"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.

"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.

"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."

You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.

"I don't know where to start," you whisper.

"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."

He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.

"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."

"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."

"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."

"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."

"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"

He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"Trust me, sugar, you're different."

Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.

Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.

Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.

Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.

He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.

He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.

You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.

"Bucky," you whine. "Please."

He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.

"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."

"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."

"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.

"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."

"My apologies, ma'am."

He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.

"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.

He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.

He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.

You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.

He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.

"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."

He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.

"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.

"I know, pretty baby. I know."

His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.

"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."

His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.

Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.

"You okay, sugar?"

You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.

"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."

He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.

"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."

He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.

"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.

He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.

"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."

"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."

You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.

"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"

"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."

You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.

He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.

The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.

The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.

Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.

"You should go. Eat something."

"I know. I just... I like being with you."

He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.

"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.

You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.

"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."

"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.

"One step at a time."

"All the time in the world," he echoes.

"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.

"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.

He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.

You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.

"Stella? Hey - you okay?"

"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"

"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."

"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."

"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."

"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."

"Ask away, Stell."

"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."

"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.

"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."

You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.

"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"

"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."

"I... I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.

"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"

You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.

"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"

"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."

"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"

You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.

"Wait... what? Where?"

"In California. The café is here, in California!"

You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.

There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.

Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.

You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.

Bucky or your dreams.

Tag List -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

tag list continued here <3

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #Honey Girl #soulmate!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes #dad's best friend bucky barnes #soulmate au #soulmate!au #soulmate!bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky #bucky fluff

[delulujuls]

i'd give you the whole world if i only knew its price | ls18

am i a lance's girlie? no. am i becoming a lance's girlie? dont look at me

he seems so sweet idk why people hate on him

summary: lance's love language is giving gifts and when it came to giving something in return he'll accept only one way

warnings: none

pairing: fem!bffreader x lance stroll

The little girl sat on the curb, tears streaming down her rosy, tear-stained cheeks. In her tiny hands, she held her shattered helmet, unfit for further use. The girl wasn't crying because her father had scolded her for accidentally damaging the helmet. Instead, it was because, until she could find a replacement, she wouldn't be able to race with the other kids. That is, if there were any funds available for a new one.

Seeing the seven-year-old in tears, a slightly older boy, aware of the reason behind her distress, approached her with his newly purchased helmet in hand, crouching down in front of her.

"Here, you can have mine."

The girl stopped sobbing as he sat beside her, handing her the helmet, which she hesitantly accepted.

"I can't take it, my dad doesn't have any money left."

"You can take it, I always have two helmets with me."

The boy smiled at her, but uncertainty still lingered on her face. He glanced toward his father, who stood under one of the tents, observing the children a few meters away. Seeing the tearful face of the girl and the joyful expression on his son's face, he also smiled slightly and nodded.

"See?" he said, squeezing her hands that held the helmet. "My dad agreed. You can take it as a gift."

"Really?"

While her face was still wet from tears, her eyes no longer radiated sadness. Looking into the brown eyes of the boy, he nodded and he stood up, extending his hand.

"By the way, I'm Lance. Now, come on, it's about to start!"

"Please, Y/N, don't be like that."

The boy slumped onto the hotel bed, closely watching the girl's face on his phone screen.

"I'm sorry, Lance, but I can't."

She replied, her phone propped up against a coffee mug, engrossed in browsing job listings on her laptop.

"Why can't you just take it as a gift?"

Y/N scoffed and shook her head.

"Every month you give me some gift, Lance. Last month, as a 'gift,' you bought me a Birkin bag, and I don't even want to know how much it cost."

"You said your bag was falling apart, I wanted to make you happy."

She sighed and shifted her gaze to her phone. Lance looked at her attentively with his puppy eyes, visibly concerned. He wasn't seeing any problem here.

"The bag is gorgeous, and you have no idea how much joy you brought me," she said with grattitude in her voice. "But even a simple Target bag would make me happy, you know?"

"Yeah, probably. But this one is okay too, right?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"It's beautiful. Thank you very much."

Hearing her words, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing her smile, he did the same.

"So, if you want to repay me, let me fly you to Bahrain."

She lowered her gaze, and the smile faded from her face. Barely scraping by on bills and struggling to find a new job, spending her remaining money on plane tickets was the last thing on her mind. Even if, it could cover just one ticket.

"I can't afford to visit you, Lance."

"That's why let me take care of it. We haven't seen each other for so long, and I want to finally see you and start this season together," he said, looking at her worried face. Money meant nothing to him; he could send a private jet to pick her up, just to have her with him. "Please, Y/N."

She sighed and shook her head.

"I feel so embarrassed. I'll never be able to repay you for all of this."

"So, is it a yes? Can I book the tickets?"

He asked, hope in his voice, and a smile slowly crept back onto his face.

"Fine, but no more gifts this month, okay?"

"I'll try to meet that condition."

Lance and Y/N had been friends since the day he noticed her crying next to the carting track, holding her damaged helmet. They remained friends through all the years of go-karting, and their friendship persisted even when Y/N had to give up racing due to financial reasons.

At first, though she shudders at the thought even now, she hated Lance with every fiber of her being. It wasn't him she despised, but the obscene amounts of money his father had, providing him with everything he could dream of. Y/N was aware that Lance had both many fans and critics, so every time she came across unfavorable comments about him online, she felt embarrassed. After all, she used to cry and curse him every night, even though deep down, she didn't hate him; she just disliked the situation he was in, which she was not allowed to have.

Lance himself knew that without money, he would never have entered the serious world of motorsport. Numerous training sessions, expensive lessons, academy tests – Lance knew that money secured his current position, but talent couldn't be bought. He knew he could drive, and even the people who hated him online knew it too, disliking him simply because he succeeded. Being in Formula 1 cost the Canadian a lot, as he constantly felt like he didn't belong there. Even in the paddock, despite rarely facing personal comments, he knew many saw him as the boy with his daddy's big money. Lance often felt lonely, so he deeply appreciated every moment he could spend with Y/N. No one was as important to him as she was.

However, Y/N focused on being an ordinary teenager after giving up her motorsport career. She finished high school, got into college, even found a job and rented an apartment. Although her life didn't unfold exactly as she wanted, she stayed connected to motorsport through Lance, whom she supported as much as she could. Now things were getting complicated again as the season was about to begin, meaning she could only cheer for him from her couch. But for Lance, there were no such limitations. If he could solve a problem with money, he would. Furthermore, Lance found immense joy in showering Y/N with various gifts. Giving her presents was his love language, something that Y/N had no clue about.

"There she is."

Lance smiled at the sight of his friend, who stepped out of the taxi in front of one of the Bahrain hotels. She returned the smile, hugging him.

"I was talking about the bag, but it's nice to see you too," he teased, pointing to the Birkin she was holding, prompting her to playfully nudge him. Lance chuckled and embraced her, taking her suitcase and leading her inside the hotel.

"I hope the flight was okay and you're full of energy because we're going to a team dinner tonight."

"So, basically your dad is inviting us to dinner?"

She asked jokingly, looking at him as they entered the elevator.

"Technically, yes, my dad is inviting us to dinner."

Y/N laughed, "Well, Lawrence Stroll can't be refused."

Shortly afterward, they were on the right floor where both of them had their rooms. Lance handed her the key card and when she entered her room, she noticed a bouquet of roses and a small package on the bed.

"Lance..."

Turning around, she saw him biting his lip, trying to hide his smile.

"Yes, yes, I know, we had a deal. But these roses were practically free and the little gift next to it is, let's say, a shared one."

He explained, putting aside her suitcase. She also placed her bag down and approached the bed, picking up the bouquet of white roses. She smelled one and smiled, feeling their pleasant fragrance. Lance smiled too.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Open the gift."

He encouraged her, leaning against the wall.

She smelled the flowers once more and put them aside, taking the small package wrapped in black ribbon. As she untied it and unwrapped the light-colored paper, she discovered the familiar shade of green. It was a long, satin dress with thin straps, in the characteristic color of Aston Martin. She smiled to herself.

"I guess this is for tonight's dinner?"

Lance nodded, "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," she ran her fingers over the fabric, "I hope you have a shirt in the same color."

He chuckled.

"Don't worry, I won't disappoint you."

Indeed, at the agreed-upon time, Lance showed up at her door, wearing a shirt in the same color, black jeans, and matching shoes. He smiled at the sight of his friend, who opened the door ready to go.

"You look gorgeous. The color suits you."

Y/N laughed and closed the door behind her.

"That's good because otherwise, I would have to wear the white dress I brought with me, and someone might think I'm supporting Haas."

Lance laughed at her words, pleased to spend these few days with his friend. Honestly, he only stopped feeling lonely when she was around or when they had the chance to talk on FaceTime. Of course, it wasn't the same as having her physically by his side.

The evening passed in a pleasant atmosphere and time flowed effortlessly. Lawrence invited everyone who had arrived with Aston Martin to Bahrain, so instead of reserving a specific number of tables, Lance's father rented the entire restaurant for the evening.

Celebrating the team's excellent work during the winter months, the tables were adorned with champagne and white wine. Y/N had forgotten how weak her head could be, so after two glasses of wine during dinner, a slight buzz started to occupy her mind. Apologizing to Lance under the pretext of going to the bathroom, she stepped outside, sitting on the balcony. Despite being February, Bahrain offered pleasant temperatures, and even after the dark, a warm breeze caressed her exposed arms.

"Here you are."

The girl jumped, hearing his voice.

"You weren't around for half an hour, and I had the waitress check if something happened to you in the bathroom."

"I needed some fresh air."

Y/N replied, smiling at him. She noticed Lance's steps were a bit unsteady and a blush adorned his cheeks. When he sat next to her, she giggled.

"I can't believe we got tipsy."

Lance chuckled and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I won't lie, I'm feeling a bit dizzy."

Still giggling, the girl rested her head on his shoulder. Lance wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his cheek on her head.

"I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad you invited me."

"I'd give you the whole world if I only knew its price."

Hearing his words, Y/N raised her head and looked at his face. His brown, gentle eyes gazed at her affectionately and a faint smile played on the corners of his lips. Lance tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"I hate that I can't give you anything in return."

Lance smiled, "Actually, there's something you could give me in return."

The girl raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"You could be my girlfriend."

Y/N blinked several times, unsure if her slightly intoxicated mind was playing tricks on her or if she understood Lance correctly.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

"Oh, God, you have no idea how much."

The girl smiled and, without saying a word, cupped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. Lance hugged her even tighter, returning the kiss, feeling a burst of fireworks in his stomach. He could bring her joy with money, and she could do it in just one way.

"I love you, Lance."

With love.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #ls18 #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll #aston martin #aston martin f1

[really-fanny-longbottom]

NEVER YOURS

Pairings: Azriel x Reader, Azriel x Elain, Lucien x Reader

Summary: Azriel never regretted his decisions so much like he does right now.

Warnings: Angst (like a lot), fluff (also a lot because we need a balance)

Words: 6.1k (I got carried away, hehe)

Author's Note: Hi everyone! I was supposed to post the prequel to Second Chance (where the batboys find the reader), but I started writing, and this is what came out! It's different from the other two fics I wrote, but I kinda liked it, anyways I made a little reference to Percy Jackson. Enjoy!

You were born in Day Court during the longest and the warmest day of the year: Summer Solstice. Even though it's not a custom to exchange gifts on that holiday, your parents always told you that you were their greatest gift and that the sun shined brighter that day like he knew that you would be entering this world very soon. 

Your father was Helion's best and longest friend, and he had a place in his Court as his second in command and advisor. Your mother was the lead healer of the Court. She was one of the most powerful and talented healers of Prythian, being a very close second to Madja. 

Due to your parents' jobs, you grew up in the Day Court Palace and close to Helion, who didn't just happen to be your High Lord but also your godfather. 

Your parents reconsider that maybe making Helion your godfather had been a mistake because of how much he spoiled you. On your 4th birthday, he gave you a black baby pegasus as a present, which you decided to name him Blackjack. When he discovered that you liked reading, he had a private library built in your room with all kinds of books. When you were seven and heard an old male saying that females should only wear dresses, you only wore pants for the next three months and of course, Helion made sure you had every type of pants at your disposal. 

When your parents tried to scold him, he just scoffed with his only response being, "She's my goddaughter. What else am I supposed to do?" with a big grin plastered in his face.

You weren't Helion's child, but he always treated you like one, and that never changed, especially after your parents' death. 

Your favorite thing about your parents was their mating bond. After you learned that mates are rare and a blessing, it made every single thing about your parents' love even more unique and pure.

You saw first hand what true love is really like. You saw how much they loved, cared, supported, and protected each other. You saw loyalty and honesty in their deepest forms. Seeing your parents' mating bond made you wish to the stars for a mate, and that one day, you would be blessed enough to find him. 

But you also saw how deep a mating bond could go. You saw it first hand, too.

You saw it when your mother died after getting infected by a rare disease while trying to help her patients. Her death destroyed your father. The pain and the grief of losing your mother, his mate, and the love of his life were so big that your father followed her into the next life a few days later, so they could start their next journey together.

Before he died, your father made Helion promise him that he would take care of you, which he agreed without hesitation. He became more protective of you. He couldn't stop thinking how unfair it was for you to lose your parents at such a young age, only eleven years old, when Helion had them for centuries.

Your godfather made sure to provide you with anything you needed from the best education to the best clothes and when your healing powers start manifesting and you decide to follow your mother's steps, Helion called in a favor to Thesan to see if he could teach you himself. The High Lord of Dawn was happy to accept, and so were you at the thought of having him as your teacher.

You moved to Dawn Court for a year where you learned everything about being a healer, not only with the High Lord himself but also with his best healers. 

You became one of the best: talented, powerful, gifted, and wise. Just like your mother.

Madja was looking for an apprentice at the time you returned to Day, and when she heard about your skills, she asked for you. Rhysand reached out to Helion with Madja's offer: you would be her apprentice, work in the clinic with her but you would also assist her if she ever needed to go to a patient's residence, and would learn everything she could teach you. 

It wasn't needed to convince you to agree. You had heard about Madja and her healing, after Thesan, she was the healer you wanted to work with the most, so of course you were more than happy to have a chance to have her as your mentor. Rhysand added that you would be welcome to stay in one of his personal residences, the House of Wind, during your time in Velaris.

You were only supposed to stay in the Night Court for a year, but that was before you met the Shadowsinger. 

However, despite wanting the apprenticeship more than anything, if you had known what would happen when you agreed to go to the Night Court, you would never have accepted the offer.

-

Azriel couldn't sleep.

No matter how much he tried, he couldn't. Not with tomorrow so close, not when he knew what was waiting for him in the morning. 

The past was haunting him tonight, his thoughts hadn't stopped since he had been informed earlier of tomorrow's meeting. So now, here he was, trying to keep his eyes open even though his body was protesting for him to do the opposite.

But he was fighting that need because every time he closed his eyes, you were all he saw. Your beautiful face with your sparkling eyes, your smooth hair, your pointy ears, your sweet voice, and your soft laughter. You were haunting his thoughts like a punishment for all those years ago. 

So all he could do now was to sit on the edge of his balcony with his legs hanging off while waiting for the sun to be born, and remember how things used to be before he destroyed everything.

 -

Everything was perfect in the beginning. Velaris was beautiful, the people were kind, and the pastries were absolutely delicious. 

The only thing you actually missed, besides Helion, was the warmth of the sun like no other Court had but the Day Court. But that was just the Day citizen in you talking.

Your apprenticeship was going amazing. You and Madja had instantly connected, and you were learning so much. Two weeks later, you were already attending your own patients without supervision. You really had a gift, and every time Madja complimented your powers, you gave all the credits to your genes, to your mom. It warmed your heart knowing that the Mother had blessed you with this part of her. In this way, it felt like she was always with you.

The House of Wind felt just like home, and you adjusted perfectly. The Inner Circle had welcomed you with open arms, and you got along with everyone. They thought you and Morrigan would be the closest of all, but they got a big surprise when it turned out to be you and Azriel.

The Shadowsinger was different from everyone you ever met. Everyone in Day was so loud, open, and extroverted. But not him. He was calm, reserved, and difficult to read, but with time, you ended up finding out that the two of you were more alike than you thought. You were able to go through the shell that Azriel had so perfectly built around him over the centuries. 

A friendship was born. Every day, Azriel would fly you to the clinic and then back to the House. You explored Velaris together and made your personal mission to try every single restaurant and bakery from the City of Starlight. 

You walked along the Sidra and even stopped once in a while to dance along the melodies that the musicians were playing. You would read together whether that was in the library, in your room, or in his. You even started training with him and sometimes, Cassian.

You became each other's person. When a day at the clinic was hard or you would lose a patient, he was there to hug and comfort you, and you found yourself doing the same for him about his missions. So you decided to take the next step and spoke about your parents' death, how much still affected you losing them.

And in that moment, Azriel realized how much trust you put in him, so he decided to return it and opened about his past, his family, and his hands. You listened to every word, cleaned every tear, and held him for as long as he needed.

You found yourself falling in love with him a little more day by day, and it only took you a few months to realize that you were completely in love.

The day the bond snapped was one of the happiest days of your life. It happened during the most beautiful celebration in the Night Court: Starfall.

Your hair was tied in a long braid that reached down to your waist, decorating the braid were small yellow daylilies. You were wearing a golden dress that fit perfectly against your sun-kissed skin. The dress had a slit on the left side that went up to the top of your thigh, a single strap held the dress on your right shoulder and when you turned around, whoever was behind you could have a perfect view of your naked back. Golden jewels rested on your ears and neck. 

You looked like a goddess, one blessed by the sun itself. You were shining just like a Day Court citizen should.

Azriel standed next to you in the balcony while gazing at the spirits passing. Both of your hands rested on the stone of the balcony, and when you went to adjust your hand, it brushed against Azriel's. At the new feeling, you looked up to find his eyes, only to see the Shadowsinger already looking at you. In that moment, with the touching of your hands and the meeting of your eyes, the world stopped.

Your hands start interviewing, and everything else just disappears. 

It was just the two of you and the sound of your heartbeats. And then, a golden thread appeared and started tying your hearts and souls.

Azriel held your free hand and pressed it against his own chest, right where his heart laid. You followed his action, freeing your intertwined hands and putting his hand on your chest, above your heart. 

With the final loop of the golden thread around your hearts, Azriel bent down and kissed you. 

That moment couldn't be more beautiful and magical even if you tried. You had finally found the mate that you had wished to the stars all those years ago. 

Everything was perfect. You had everything you wanted and more. You lived in a beautiful city that you learned to love and were starting to call it home. You had the job of your life, working alongside one of your idols. Amazing friends that made you feel welcomed and part of a little family. And finally, your mate, the male you were in love with, long before that beautiful and sacred golden thread. Everything was perfect.

But of course, nothing lasts forever. And all of that disappeared when Elain Archeron came into the picture.

-

Ten years. He couldn't believe that much time had passed. All those years without you.

It had been ten years since the last time he saw you. Ten years since he had heard something regarding you. Ten years since he had broken your heart. And ten years since he had made the biggest mistake of his entire existence.

You had moved back to Day Court after that day, after what happened and after what he did. 

The High Lord of Day had forbidden Azriel from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way. And months later, when the rumors of a certain Shadowsinger flying above the Palace in hopes to get a glimpse of you reached his ears, Helion banned him from his Court.

Helion had always been a very charismatic and loving person. He's kind, generous, and a very good friend. He gets along with almost everyone, always joking around and laughing.  Some people may say that he's the nicest and kindest High Lord that Prythian has ever seen. 

When problems arise, he always tries to find a solution to solve them or if a solution is not possible, a way to improve them. But not this time. Not when it comes to you and his son, Lucien.

Because your heart wasn't the only one to be shattered that day, no, Lucien's heart was a victim, too. So, from that moment, everything that Helion did was to protect you and Lucien, to make sure that you felt safe, that you had space and time to heal. You thought that was ironic, considering you were a healer yourself.

Azriel's banishment wasn't the only consequence from the events of that day.

That day also cost the alliance between the Day Court and the Night Court, and when the alliance fell apart, so did Helion and Rhysand's friendship.

But Azriel wasn't the only one to blame for all of this. Elain Archeron was guilty, too. She, too, was banished from the Day Court and forbidden to contact Lucien in any way.

But unlike Azriel, Elain's actions cause far more consequences than his. 

The Autumn Court followed the same decisions as the Day Court. The banishment of Azriel and Elain and the prohibition of any kind of contact with Lucien. Eris, now the new High Lord of the Autumn Court after Beron's death, didn't take lightly to what happened to his little brother. 

The two of them had reconnected after Eris became High Lord. They talked through everything that had happened in the last centuries, made peace with their past, and decided to move forward together. Now, the brothers were inseparable and had the kind of relationship they had always wanted since they were younger. So when Eris heard what had happened, he considered those actions as a personal attack. 

He went as far as to offer Lucien the opportunity to choose the Blood Duel, which his little brother refused, saying that all of this had already caused enough pain. Eris wasn't angry just because of Lucien. He was angry because of you, too. You were the first person to give him the benefit of the doubt, the first one to not judge him, unlike the others you tried to get to know him, to be his friend and he let you. 

You were the first one to know the real Eris, to know what he hid behind the mask. Therefore, you had a special place in his heart. Even if you didn't share the same blood, you were part of his family.

But that didn't stop with Day and Autumn.  Spring joined them, too. 

Despite everything that happened and the fact that they were still working on their friendship, Tamlin's loyalty remained with Lucien. Spring had been Lucien's home for decades, and with that came a brotherhood between the two of them. 

Needless to mention that Jurian and Vassa's loyalties also remained with Lucien.

To everyone outside the situation, all of this may seem overreacted and exaggerated. But to everyone involved, it's not.

After all, you and Lucien almost died. That's what happens when a mating bond is rejected.

-

Azriel couldn't believe things had turned out this way. He was so sure that the Cauldron was wrong, that he belonged with Elain. Three sisters for three brothers. How more poetic could it be?

There were signals everywhere: Feyre with Rhysand, Nesta with Cassian, and Elain with him. Elain wouldn't go close to Lucien or talk to him, but she would sit next to him whether during dinners or on the couch, she would talk to him, and requested his company when she went to the garden or to the city. Even his shadows disappeared every time he was with her.

Weren't those signals clear enough? They were meant to be. The Cauldron was wrong. 

So Azriel did what he thought was right. He rejected the mating bond with you, and Elain did the same with Lucien. 

He never thought that the rejection of the bond would've almost cost your life.

That memory still gave him nightmares to this day. How pale you turned, how you sank to your knees with your hand pressed against your chest, tears running free down your cheeks and muffled screams leaving your lips. How much pain you had suffered and how he had been the cause of it. How once, not that long ago, he had been the reason for your smiles, laughs, and giggles.

But that memory wasn't his. It was Rhysand's. Rhys, who had to go through your mind shields, and knock you unconscious so the pain would stop. But that memory led him to another memory. 

The memory of that day and the things that had followed after he shattered your heart.

-

Azriel wasn't there the moment it happened. No, he was too busy kissing Elain after admitting how much they craved each other. 

And while he kissed Elain, he felt that golden thread tying the two of you breaking and start slowly to disappear.

Nothing could have prepared him for that last memory of you when he and Elain were summoned to the River House a few hours later.

Rhys had shown him not as a courtesy but as a lesson of how much his actions can affect others. But you weren't just some other. You were his mate. Former mate. Ex-mate.

Azriel made a move to go find you. He needed to explain it to you, and he needed you to understand, but you were already gone.

Rhys told him that after you regained consciousness, Lucien took you with him back to Day Court. 

Lucien. Who you had become instantly friends with since the male's arrival in Velaris. You had treated him just like you were when you moved to the Night Court. You showed him the city, the good restaurants and the best pastries, and also told him about Helion, now that he knew the High Lord was his father and he was his Heir. You wanted him to feel like home, just like you did. 

When Azriel made his intentions clear to go to Day and find you, Rhys showed him the letter Helion had sent. The one that forbidden him from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way. The one that also had the same indications to Elain regarding Lucien. And that if any of them tried to disobey his orders, there would be consequences.

Azriel knew of protective the male was of you and that he would do anything to protect his family, so for a split second, Azriel found himself fearing the High Lord. 

Rhysand also ordered them to stay away from the two of you, stating that they had already created enough problems and the Night Court could not afford a war with Day. 

After they left his office, Rhys sat down on his chair, trying to think how he was gonna solve this. His mind kept going back to you and Lucien. 

He was there when Lucien came for you, the red headed male was also pale and every few minutes, his hand would press to his chest in pain, his eyes were still red, probably from the tears he had shed.

Rhys knew that Helion's letter wouldn't be the only one he would receive that day. And like he was right, three more letters arrived during it. First from Autumn, then Spring and the last one from the Band of Exiles. 

Rhys passed a hand through his black hair and released a long sigh, Azriel and Elain actions had just cost four allies to the Night Court.

-

When you and Lucien arrived in Day, Helion almost fell to his knees at your sight.

You were in Lucien's arms, your eyes half open with tears still following down your cheeks. One of your hands was against your chest, rubbing small circles in a way of trying to get rid of the pain. Lucien wasn't much better.

Helion headed towards you and started examining you for injuries, but he found nothing, and when confusion made his way to his features, Lucien told him everything.

The confusion was replaced by anger, but the anger wasn't just directed towards the Shadowsinger and the middle Archeron sister. Some of it was towards himself. 

Towards himself, because seeing you like that, Helion felt that he had broken the promise he made to your dad and that this was his fault.

Without giving time for any more thoughts to fill his mind, Helion led Lucien to your room, where the Heir laid you on the bed. You had fallen asleep in his arms with your cheeks still stained. 

Lucien sat on the chair by your desk that was placed in front of your bed and said to Helion that he would stay with you. Helion gave him a firm nod, remembering that Lucien didn't have a room yet in his Palace, but he was about to fix that.

Helion didn't waste any time after making sure that the two of you were okay for now. 

He called two of his servants to prepare a room for the young Heir and went straight to his office where he wrote the letter and sent it to Rhysand.

The next week's were a complicated ones but showed that time was the best healer. 

You no longer spend the days locked in your room alone. You started to eat properly again and went back to work. Day by day, you were smiling more and sometimes making jokes.

Lucien improved as well. He decided to live in the Day Court for the time being and took his place as Helion's second in command. His relationship with Helion was also getting stronger over time. They were making up for the lost time.

But that wasn't the only thing that changed. Your relationship with Lucien also changed.

You got closer than ever, due to the fact you were the only ones who knew what the other was going through.

You found comfort in each other's presence and started spending more time together to the point where you became each other's favorite person. 

Little by little, you start helping each other heal. You started putting back together the pieces that had been broken, and the pain started slowly fading until the day that it didn't hurt anymore.

You two mended your hearts and souls, and for the first time, in a long time, you were full again.

Your friendship grew, and so did your feelings for each other.

-

Azriel couldn't believe how wrong he had been. Because the Cauldron wasn't wrong, it had never been wrong. 

He was the one who was wrong. Right from the beginning.

He and Elain had tried a relationship after yours and Lucien's departure. It worked for six months until it didn't.

Azriel questioned himself why the relationship was starting to fail and why being with Elain was starting to feel wrong.

It didn't take him too long to understand the reason. It was because she wasn't you. He found out that the reason his shadows disappear every time he was with Elain wasn't because they were destined but because they were with you. 

His shadows would leave him and Elain to go find you, like they were stating that they wouldn't betray you, that they chose you. On the day he broke up with Elain, he found his shadows in your old room, which once was filled with colors, books, paintings, and light, and now was empty, dusty, and dark. The shadows were swimming around your Starfall dress, the one you wore on the day your bond had snapped. The sight of the dress was painful, and he understood why it had been left behind.

Azriel had tried to apologize, he flew to Day Court and around the Palace trying to find you but he never did and the next day Helion sent a letter with his and Elain's banishment, making Autumn and Spring to have the same decision. 

He understood why, they were trying to protect you and Lucien, and even though he didn't have the right, he just wanted to know if you were okay. Ironic, considering he was the reason you were suffering. 

He asked Rhys several times if he knew something about you, and Rhys revealed to him that you weren't talking to him or the other members of the Inner Circle either. You had stated that it was too early and still very painful. 

So they respected your decision and kept their distance. 

That had caused Azriel's guilt to grow even more. How he wished for Nesta to still have her powers so he could go back in time and repair all of this.

The light of the sun broke his thoughts. The sun was finally making its appearance in the orange and yellow sky. 

Azriel released a long breath and looked at the clock perched on his bedroom wall. 

The morning was here, and he was only two hours away from seeing you.

-

The Inner Circle stood at the entrance of the Day Court Palace. 

Helion had lifted the banishment for this meeting with yours and Lucien consent.

Both of you said that it had been a long time and that the past should stay in the past, but that didn't mean you would be accepting any apologies today.

Koschei was on the rise again, and Prythian needed to come together once more. Right now, your past didn't matter.

The doors swung open, and the Inner Circle made their way inside. A servant led them to the conference room located in the same hallway as Helion's office on the first floor of the Palace.

They sat at the marble table while the servant informed them, "The High Lord will be here in a few minutes." Receiving a nod and a 'Thank you' from Rhysand, the servant left.

Rhys started, "Y/N and Lucien will also be in this meeting. Now, Helion was nice enough to allow the two of you back here, so do not ruin this." He finished while looking at Azriel and Elain, making them both nod their heads.

Helion entered the room, and the Inner Circle raised from their seats. The High Lord of the Day Court made his way to the head of the table. He turned to the side where Rhys, Feyre, and his Inner Circle stood at his left before offering his hand to Rhys to shake it.

Taken by surprise, Rhys needed a few seconds to process what was happening before accepting his hand. Once they had shaken hands, everyone returned to their seats, but not before Helion sent a disapproving look in Azriel's and Elain's direction.

A few minutes into the meeting, the door to the conference room opened again. And there you were. 

You were dressed in Day attire, a beautiful white dress that hugged your body, with your hair loosen and golden jewelry adorned your neck and ears. Lucien was by your side also wearing Day attire, one that matched Helion's, with your hand in his.

The Inner Circle held their breaths at your sight. It had been ten years, but all the memories came flashing back to them. 

You looked the same, but when you two approached the table, that's when they saw it and shock spread all over their faces.

Azriel couldn't believe what he was seeing. He didn't know what he was expecting to see at this meeting, but it wasn't this.

It wasn't the golden ring that you and Lucien had matching on your left hands informing him that you were married that shocked him.

It was the small and round belly that your free hand was resting on and the sweet vanilla scent that was filling the air. The scent of yours and Lucien's baby. 

"Apologies for our delay," Lucien started, then looking in your direction with a smile continued "Someone had a big appetite this morning." He ended with a laugh.

You looked at his gaze, a genuine smile on your lips. "Shut up." You whispered.

Lucien grabs the back of your chair, pulling it to give you enough space to sit. "Thank you, my love." You said while watching him taking the seat at your right, making you stay seated between him and Helion.

For the first time since you entered the room, you looked at the people in front of you. "Night Court," you greeted with a small smile. 

Feyre was the first to say "Congratulations Y/N. And Lucien." 

Lucien spoke this time. "Thank you, Feyre." He rested his hand on your belly.

"How far long are you?" Rhysand's voice reached your ears.

Looking in his direction, you answered, "23 weeks. Lucien thinks it's a girl, but I think it's a boy," you added. That made Rhys smile.

"I always took you for a boy mom." Amren's voice surprised you and couldn't help but smile at her words. "Congratulations to you two, the Mother knows you deserve it." She finished with a genuine smile.

Lucien looked at Azriel and Elain before directing his eyes to the ancient one "Yes we do. Thank you, Amren." Lucien paused for a second before turning in Helion's direction and continuing. “Let's not keep holding on to the meeting. Please go on, dad." 

Helion proceeded with the meeting, but Azriel didn't listen to a word that was said. He couldn't tear his eyes from you and Lucien. 

There was no doubt of the love you two shared, not when it was written in both of your eyes. He didn't miss Lucien caresing your belly, and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, passing his thumb over your jaw and kissing your cheek after.

Or how you rested your right hand on top of his on your belly while your left passed through his long red hair before resting around his shoulders and your smile while doing it.

What bigger proof did he need of your love if not for the baby you were carrying? Lucien's baby, he kept telling himself. Not his. Lucien's.

Jealousy invaded his body, but there was nothing he could do. He made his decision ten years ago, and now he had to live with it.

Lost in his thoughts, he only realized the meeting was over when everyone started standing. Rhys and Helion were finishing talking, and when the doors opened one more time, Eris Vanserra walked in with a little ginger boy in his arms. He couldn't be more than five years old.

He looked exactly like Lucien, except for his eyes. Those were yours. 

Azriel's heart sank, and it sank even more a few seconds later, when the little boy spotted you and Lucien. You already had a baby and you were about to have your second.

With a big smile appearing on his sweet face, the little boy almost shouted, "Mommy! Daddy!" The boy jumped from his uncle's arms and ran to you.

You bend down and gather the happy boy in your arms before standing again and passing a hand through his ginger curls and saying, "Hi baby." You peppered his face with kisses making him laugh even more "I thought you were having fun with your uncle." You said looking at your brother in law.

Your son pouted “Uncle Eris doesn't know how to play. He onlys wants to do the boring stuff mommy.”

Everyone in the room chuckled, Eris gasped with fake hurt “Excuse me?”

“Elijah.” Lucien chuckled and said to your son after joining your side “Don't be rude to your uncle.” 

“But it’s the truth, daddy.” Elijah hid his face on your neck. 

Eris approached the little family with a smile directed to his nephew. "Sorry. I tried to keep him entertained, but he just kept asking about you two." 

Lucien noticed his older brother had paint and glitter on his white shirt and laughed at the thought of his son giving him a hard time before exclaiming, "It's alright, brother. We were about to leave anyway." 

The little boy settled in your arms and rested his head against yours, Lucien started rubbing his back when the little boy caught the sight of his grandfather and asked before anyone could stop him "Grandpa, how was the meeting with the idiots from the Night Court?" 

The room went quiet, and a few gasps escaped. At your son's words, you turned to look at Helion, now on mom's mood. "Helion! How many times do we have to tell you not to speak like that in front of him?" 

The room erupted in laughter at your statement.  The air became lighter, and Helion put his hands in surrender, promising you that it wouldn't happen again. 

You gave him an incredulous look, saying that you didn't believe him. Your son wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and rested his head on your shoulder with a yawn leaving his lips. 

You rubbed your son's back while speaking to him. "Cmon Elijah, let's leave before your grandpa comes up with a new bad word for you to learn." 

“Bad grandpa” your son agreed with you while earning new chuckles from the Night Court. 

Even though he was trying to hold his smile, Azriel failed, your son was too adorable.

You turned your gaze to the Inner Circle and gave them a smile. "It was good to see you all." 

"You too, Y/N. I missed you." Cassian replied.

Your smile stretched before telling him, "I missed you too, Cass." 

The nickname made his heart ache. Maybe there's still a chance for you to reconnect.

You turned to look behind you, meeting your husband's eyes "You're coming Lu?" 

A pink blush made its way to Lucien's cheeks "Of course, my love" The Heir looked at his father "We'll see you at dinner, dad. Night Court." He said giving the Inner Circle a small nod before joining you and wrapping his arm around your waist and giving a kiss to your now sleeping son.

Amren spoke again “See I told you were a boy mom.” A smile never leaving her face.

“You're right. If this baby happens to be a boy as well, I'm gonna be in trouble.” You replied with a arm holding your son and while the other made it's way to your belly.

“No your not, you're gonna be great.” Nesta spoke, a genuine smile on her lips “We already can see you are.” She gestured to the little boy sleeping in your arms. 

“Thank you, Nes.” You were grateful for her words.

On your way out, you met Azriel's eyes but you couldn't find the words so you simply gave him a nod with a small smile and Azriel returned the gesture.

When the door closed, Amren was the first to break the silence "Well, the Mother has a sense of humor." 

Everyone turned to look at her but she focused her gaze on Azriel and Elain "You rejected them because you believed you belonged with one another only for your relationship to fail six months later. And now," she released a laugh "your former mates found their way towards each other. Fell in love, got married, had a son and have another baby on the way. Ironic isn't it?" She said with the feline smile returning to her lips. 

It was Helion who spoke next, amusement all over his face "Indeed. I guess karma is a bitch." He sent a disapproving look one more time in the direction of the two people who almost cost him his family before exiting the room.

Amren's and Helion's words stung but Azriel knew it was nothing but the truth. He realized in that moment, that despite your life now and how things turned out, you would never forgive him.

He had lost you forever and now he had to live with regret for the rest of his life. After all, you were no longer his. 

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I wasn't sure if someone wanted to be tag on this fic so I didn't do it. But I'm thinking in making a general taglist so if you wish to be added let me know. The next fic I'm gonna post will be the prequel of Second Chance. 😊

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

#acotar #acotar fandom #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #inner circle #rhysand #rhysand x reader #helion spell cleaver #helion acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien x you #eris vanserra #eris acotar #elain archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #amren acotar #morrigan

[moumouton4]

Hello there! I was thinking if you want to write more for Mash but if you wanna write another characters, that’s fine! I’m sorry I just live my boy Mash🥺❤️

7 Minutes In Heaven || Mashle Burnedead x fem!reader

A/n : Finally made it omg it too me so much time but it really worth it. Hope you all enjoy it 🍦🥮

Warning : Fluf fluf fluff, I tried comedy since the first season gave us almost only this, still trying to make it a strong suit 😂

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 2011

You were all sitting in a circle on the wooden floor of Mashle and Finn’s dorm. It was only supposed to be a nice and chill afternoon gathering with all your friends, as y’all had the afternoon free for the first time in the year. Lemon had brought cup cakes, Dot a lot of candies, you the drinks and Lance, well, Lance only brought himself but it was the intention that counted. Of course a lot of puff creams were present at your little party.

The atmosphere was light and cheerful, everyone was talking and laughing. After a moment, y’all reached the agreement that it was time to play a game or two. After a few proposals, truth or dare was the first game to catch everyone’s attention.

“Come on ! Come on !” everyone cheered.

“I’m not going to answer this” Lance stated, as a pink hue spread on his cheekbones ( if you ask nicely I can tell you what question he was asked hehe )

“Okay… then I dare you to give me your necklace for the rest of the day !” Dot laughed loudly like an antagonist ( Light Yagami supremacy )

Lance’s hand flew to his jewel that he clutched in his hand “Fine fine I’ll answer” he said looking away “3 times…. Happy now ?”

“Yes very” smugly said the red haired man.

Then it was your turn and Lemon, who was in a very playful mood sing-sang “Y/n truth or dare ?”

You looked in front of you, you just knew by the tone of her voice that she was going to do something, your eyes met Mashle’s and then hers. She fricking knew ! And she was surely going to add her touch to it. You were focused on the truth part, thinking about all the possibilities of questions that could be asked. So you went with the dare.

“Dare” you said, half reassured about what was to come.

“I dare you too…” she thought about it looking everywhere around the room, and then her eyes landed - as if faith had decided it - on the door of the storage room of the dorm. A smirk appeared on her lips as she stated “I dare you to stay in there with Mashle for 7 minutes” her finger pointed towards the nearby door.

Your eyes widened “Huh ?!? Did you even go there ? It’s so narrow, we won’t never fit…” as you continued trying to find your wait out of this dare, Mashle sat there, looking at the people speaking, his head looking at one side and the at the other - as if he was watching a tennis game - a puff cream in his hand as he munched on it. He seemed… unfazed, true to his form.

“Nah Y/n it’s your dare. You don’t want to be a loser now, do you ?” she teased knowing that you were far from being someone to let herself be pushed around.

“Fine I accept the dare. But now it’s his turn to say if he is up to or not” you hoped he would refuse so that the next truth would be on him, but as much you wanted him to accept, find yourself in this enclosed space, so so close to his strong body…

“No no no !” a roaring voice abruptly stopped your train of thoughts “Why is he the one allowed to be in there with her ! He is already stealing all the girls’ attention ! That’s unfair ! I want to be with her there too !” Dot continued, his exuberant personality on full displated, making you all chuckle, Lance sigh and Mashle look at him with indifference.

“Why is being in a closet part of the game ?” he asked, his mouth still stuffed with the sweet pastry ( that’s a pleonasm lmao of course it’s sweet )

“It’s like seven minutes in heaven, you know the game” added Finn, who tried to explain to his friend.

“You mean seven minutes in a closet ?” the raven haired boy asked rather matter of factly.

“In heaven idiot !” chipped in Dot, who was still very unhappy that Mashle was the one who could enjoy the company of a female “It’s a gorgeous woman you’ll be with, not some brooms !”

His words touched your heart, making you blush, it’s been years you know him and yet you still can’t keep a straight face when he says this kind of thing.

“We don’t have any brooms”

“OOH COME ON JUST ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION !”

“Yeah it’s easy to stay in a closet” Mashle finally answered, making Lemon smile as she got up and rushed to you, ready to push you in the storage room with the boy she knew you liked.

With his long legs, Mashle was within a second in front of the door, ready to open it “Nooo !” screamed Finn “That’s fine Imma open it for you guys” he said sweating, he didn’t really want to have another door to be replaced again.

Mashle didn’t say anything and entered docilely in the storage room. You followed suit as Lemon literally threw you inside. You also almost crashed to him - and his huge muscles gahh - sending a wave of red on your cheeks. The door closed rather roughly, because of how excited your friend was.

“Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven guys” she shouted, so that you could hear her.

“Yeah but don’t get too cozy in there” Dot screamed from behind the door.

Now it was just you and him - and your over-beating heart. You wondered if he could hear it in this dimly lit room, though knowing him he wouldn’t have even noticed. You felt your face getting warmer, it felt like you were in a dream. Like how come you even got you and him in this narrow room. Your brain was working at full speed to manage and find something to talk about and not make these seven minutes the most cringy and awkward seven minutes of both your lives - again Mashle doesn’t even seem to know those feelings.

As you were about to say something he went first “What are we supposed to do in there ?”

Did he seriously not have a single clue ( of course not 😂 )

“W-well, usually people talk and see if they like each other more than friends… I guess” your brain was actually sweating, trying not to blurt out that you’re so in love with him since the second day - because seriously on the first one he looked pretty dumb.

“Okay…” he said, looking down at you. He was pretty tall, besides the narrowed space was close to pressing you together, so as he spoke to you you could almost feel his breath on your hair “And what happens if they do ?”

Your eyes widened slightly, you clearly weren’t expecting this answer coming from him, since when was he so invested in a discussion that wasn’t about puff creams. You swallowed hoping that your voice wouldn’t crack as you answer.

“T-they kiss ?” you said, rather as if it was more a question than an answer, your arms raising at your sides to show you weren’t sure 🤷‍♀️ - you were “O-of course they have to both agree about their feelings”

“Okay. Do you like me ?” he said bluntly. You choked on your spit “Huh ?!? W-why are you asking this ?”

“Well to know if you like me too, so that I can kiss you, like the game says” he simply said, as if he didn’t at all reveal to you that he liked you and wanted to kiss you. You hoped he at least knew the game wasn’t actually demanding him to act on his feelings if he didn’t want to.

“Erm- huh… you know… well… yes ?” you said, almost scared there could be a wrong answer to his question.

As soon as the words left you lips he somehow managed to come closer to you, his chest was now pressed against your, if you leaned you could set your head on his strong body.

“Can I kiss you ?” he asked. And now your throat clearly couldn't speak any words. You only nodded. He leaned in, his hair slightly grazing the top of your hair. You looked up at him, gosh he was breathtaking even in this closet. Leaning further down, his breath fanned over your lips “I’m going to kiss you now”

And with that his lips - finally - made contact with yours in a soft almost shy kiss, as if he was scared - in the back of his head - to hurt you in any way or do something that could be seen as wrong or inappropriate. On the other side of the kiss you melted against his mouth, his lips tasted like whipped cream and sugar. But then soon, too soon, he pulled away. His cheeks were somehow flushed and for the first time you’ve seen his gaze avert from yours as if he was being… shy ? about the whole thing, after everything he has said before.

You gently wrapped your arms around his neck, so as not to startle him and brought your head closer to his “Do mind if I ?” you didn’t even need to finish your sentence that his voice, now hoarse came out breathlessly “Yes”

You kissed him, your eyes closing ( I seriously his would stay open in the beginning and you’d have to be like “Mashle can you close them it's weird” lmao. Not saying you can’t keep them open if you want though ) This time, he wrapped his arms around you drawing you even closer, his kiss was a bit clumsy and seriously you were almost suffocating in his embrace but still it was an amazing moment.

He turned his head to deepen the kiss, your nose brushed, eliciting a quiet giggle from you. He smiled in the kiss. This was different from everything he has ever known, he silently promised himself to protect you with everything he could, just like he promised his father. After you broke the kiss he took a sharp intake of breath as his sole action put him in a state of out of breathness that he never encountered before. Maybe that was being in love.

Not long after the door opened as Lemon’s head picked inside, soon followed by Dot’s who was very eager to see if anything had happened and if Mashle had yet again stolen another woman of this damn school. You both jumped away from each other, Mashle almost went through the wall.

“The seven minutes are over !”

“No please don’t tell me you’ve got her too ?!?” in reality Mashle didn’t get any girl from the beginning of his curriculum. There was just Dot being overly jealous, because he didn’t attract any women like he would have wanted.

“Iiiiiiiih Y/n ! You did it girl !” she wanted to hug you tightly but three people couldn't enter the storage room at the same time, so she waited for you to come out. She almost tackled you to the ground.

Mashle went back to sit down, his cheeks still reddened from the kisses you shared in that enclosed space. Both Finn and Lance looked at him weirdly as if they had seen something totally out of the ordinary, and it was. The raven haired boy, even apart from you, couldn't keep his eyes from drifting to your form. Hugging you or kissing you more seemed very enticing and soothing at the moment.

“Y-you okay Mashle ?” asked Finn, looking at him and then back at you, who was coming to sit back down with the others.

“Yeah I just wish the game wasn’t called after seven minutes. It’s too short” he said, biting in yet another puff cream, as if he yet again didn’t confess something rather personal. The other boy blushed at the admission. Dot continued grumbling in the background and Lance was looking through the window, trying to act unfazed and tough. Your eyes met Mashle’s and he gave you a smile before extending a puff cream at you. Yes it was clearly his way of saying that he loved you.

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