#🎟️ // heartsteel

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: heartsteel kayn x gn reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: (omg I didn't change the summary) You admire Kayn and he's grumpy

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 524

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, feminization (Kayn is called "princess"), calling your significant other "bitch" adoringly

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: it's been 3 months, heartsteel brought me back

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Kayn was pretty to you, though to anyone else he was hot.

Hot was when you stole glances; hot was an appearance that you must tear your eyes away from, that burned a scalding hot wave down your body, that left you guilty for staring and fearful of getting caught, and even if they hadn't noticed you, someone else was bound to see you oggling. Hot was out of your league, you could never have him.

Pretty, though, was when you felt allowed to see, to admire; when you stare and can't let go, because you're mesmerized. Pretty didn't fill you with guilt, it filled you with admiration, it makes you feel like your surroundings melt away, and it's just him.

"What are you staring at?"

"You, bitch."

Sass. Whatever else could you be staring at? Kayn rolls his eyes, turning back to whatever he was doing. He continues to ignore you, even as you overcome your trance and walk over to him, even as you wrap your arms around his pretty little exposed abdomen from the side. Only when you start peppering kisses over his face does he falter.

He grumbles, trying to reject your love, like he always does—or like he usually does.

Kayn was a duality, he was hot and he was pretty, he rejected your love and then showered you with his own.

"Go away..." He mutters, but his words are the only thing pushing you away. Instead, he's got a hand over yours around his waist, and the other on your cheek. He simply holds it, doesn't push you away, doesn't pull you any closer. He's got an inner turmoil: he wants more, but he also wants to keep his mean facade.

"No." And he doesn't protest, not whilst you continue pressing kisses into the soft skin of his face. He wears a frown. You want to kiss it away. You place a kiss on the corner of his lips, and it raises, and then the other, and it raises too. He's smiling.

"You're insufferable." Kayn whispers, turning to you fully. He holds your face in both hands now, and actually keeps you in place so you can't kiss him anymore, but still he does not push.

You offer him a smile, "I know you think otherwise."

"No, I mean," His eyebrows furrow, his nose scrunches up, he's annoyed, but it's funny, "you haven't kissed me."

"Yes I have."

He rolls his eyes, "On the lips."

"Oh, I'm sorry, princess," Kayn huffs at the nickname, as though he didn't like it, "I didn't know you wanted me to kiss you."

"Well, I do." He pouts. Pouts! Kayn pouts, and it's so cute.

"Say pretty–"

"I am not saying "pretty please"."

Ignoring the fact he just did, you lean in to kiss him, just as he wants, and he doesn't push, he pulls. He wants this...obviously.

He sighs into the kiss, a "finally", dreamily, with satisfaction, happily.

He hates this. How much he wants you, how much he loves you, how he's desperate for you. But, Kayn thinks, if it means he gets to have you, maybe it's okay.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: heartsteel yone x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Yone goes through great lengths to hide his soft spot for you.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.29k

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: reader is implied trans, if you squint, and allergic to dust

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Sett's eyes scanned the new list pinned on the fridge, his ears twitching in anticipation for his weekly chore.

CHORE CHART:

Yone - laundry

Sett - take out trash – gently, please

Okay, he could do that. He could do that just fine. Controlling his strength was easy, after all.

Sett's chore was second on the list, meaning he hadn't seen the rest, and it got him curious, so he continued to read.

K’Sante - grocery shopping

Ezreal - dusting

Aphelios - vacuum

Kayn - dishes – ALL of them

Y/N - n/a

What? No, that wasn't possible. You weren't doing anything? That wasn't fair! That was less than fair, it was an actual insult to his pride!

Sett had to do something.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Yone sat on his bed, folding the boys' collective laundry with ease and stacking them up on organized piles. Clothing that was meant to be hanged, instead, had already been placed on their high quality, wooden, color-coded hangers, off to the side.

Yone was meticulous in this, he paid attention to the details. After all, the last time he gave the task to one of the other boys, he had found his clothes had wrinkled, and he didn't want a repeat.

Besides, he also found folding laundry to be quite peaceful. It allowed him to take his mind off the production and upkeep of HEARTSTEEL, and instead keep it busy with the repetitive, simple movements of folding clothing.

Had Yone not been an attentive man, he wouldn't have noticed the purposefully quiet sound of the door as it clicked open and shut, nor the padding of socked feet that covered the distance to the bed with quick strides.

Had you not been Yone's favorite man, he wouldn't have let you in without so much as a word.

"Hi Yone." It was a simple greeting, but Yone thought it was the sweetest thing in the world.

"Hello, sweetheart." Yone didn't even protest when you sat down beside him, let alone on his bed. He only remained curious, "What are you doing here?"

"I thought folding the laundry for six big boys would be much too boring and tedious to do all on your lonesome."

"Seven big boys." Yone corrected.

"Seven big boys." You repeated in affirmation.

Yone placed his hand over yours when you pulled one of Sett's big muscle shirts over your lap, opening his mouth to say he didn't want you "straining yourself", when you gave him a pointed look he couldn't say no to. A sigh slipped from his lips instead, and he let go of your hand after giving it a squeeze.

"Thank you." You said, turning your gaze back to the black shirt.

Yone wanted to say it was nothing to be thankful for, but he knew that you wouldn't care for that, so instead he went back to his manners. "You're welcome."

There was a peaceful silence afterwards. Yone liked his silences as much as he liked his music, but he wanted to fill it up with something. You were here, after all, but what could he say?

He didn't need to find a topic of conversation, however, not with Sett bursting through the door. "Yone!"

"Sett." The producer grumbled in reply, setting his hands over his lap, which just so happened to behold Ezreal's rubber ducky patterned pajama shirt. "Kayn, Ezreal..."

Aphelios and K'Sante piled in behind them, though they looked less like the angry pitchfork villagers that entered before them.

"Why does (Y/N) get to skip out on chores?!" Kayn shouted, pushing past the big hunk of rock that Sett was.

Maybe his red eye couldn't see, for he didn't notice you sitting right next to Yone with the matching duck pajama bottoms on your lap.

"Yeah, man, that's like, totally unfair!" Sett exclaimed, pushing Kayn out of the way so they could share the limelight.

Ezreal pushed under the taller boys' arms, standing in front of them with his arms crossed. "Not to mention, incredibly biased!"

"There was nothing else to do around the house." Yone came up with the excuse quickly, going back to folding the clothes nonchalantly. There were actually plenty of other shores around the house, but he wasn't about to mention them.

The other boys, however, were perfectly capable of doing so. "Like cleaning the bathrooms!"

"Watering the plants."

"Helping me dry the dishes!"

Yone deadpanned, staring at all of them with his signature disappointment, until his eyes settled on K'Sante. "They have a point." He says, and Yone couldn't deny it.

Except, he could.

"He broke his leg this morning." Yone straight lies, looking back down at the clothing and remaining stoic.

"What?" Everyone–capable of saying–says, even you!

Sett peered over the stacks of clothing covering the view over your legs, just to check. "No he didn't!" The big man says, an insufferable whine to his voice.

You clear your throat, ceasing your hands' movement. Yone shuffles a bit closer to you, as if to shield you from the boys. "Sure he did. He's good at hiding pain."

"Yone." Ezreal placed his hands on his hips.

The producer didn't grace him with a reply, simply focusing on the clothing.

Kayn grumbled, "Now you're lying for him?"

"I did no such thing." He places the duck pajama shirt roughly over Ezreal's pile, accidentally causing a wrinkle, but he hardly cares.

"Listen here–" Kayn's voice is deep and annoyed. He lunges, but K'Sante holds his back, and hovers him just over the floor. Air jail.

"(Y/N) is our wonderful assistant, not your mom." Yone says, to which you laugh, turning Sett's face sour. "He's not here to do everything for you."

"Why do we even have to dust the place every week?" Ezreal says exasperatedly. Running a hand through his hair, he still manages to look well-kept. "I'm pretty sure dust doesn't build up that fast."

"(Y/N)'s allergic."

You didn't put that in your resume. So he found out on his own? That's...endearing. You scoot forward, back to Yone's side. "You guys aren't seriously hoping to subject me to suffering just because you have to suffer too, right?"

Now that you'd put it that way, yeah, that sounded pretty mean. K'Sante puts Kayn down, and the rapper stays in place obediently. Sett huffs and crosses his arms, but he seems convinced, and Ezreal's lips press into a line.

"I mean, when you say it like that..." The pretty boy says, looking down shamefully.

The more sensible K'Sante knows it remains unfair, and that he'll have to talk to Yone about it later, but he's just happy the conflict is resolved; whilst the indifferent Aphelios's smile fades, his entertainment was over.

"Besides, I'm helping now, aren't I?" You finish folding Ezreal's duck pajama pants and place them on the pile just to show off.

"Yeah, you're right." Sett sighs, slumping forward dejectedly.

For a moment, the boys stand awkwardly until Aphelios realizes they all are intruding upon Yone's private space and your alone time. He turns and leaves, prodding Yone to speak up. "Run along now."

The boys all leave, Kayn more angrily as Yone's words are definitely triumphant, and K'Sante closes the door behind them.

Silence. Comfortable, peaceful, and belated silence.

The two of you turn back to folding the clothing.

"For the record, I know why you didn't put me on the list." Yone thinks you're about to tease him for it, but you don't, and for that he is grateful.

The second place producer, first place lover, leans his head against yours, then turns it to give you a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

From the next week onwards, the first chore is always sitting next to two names:

Y/N & Yone -