#its music to my ears and my heart squeals!!!

[ventcode]

Give me praise. Compliment me. Tell me how much you adore and love me. Please?

[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don��t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads’ temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Eleven.

previous chapter (10). series masterlist. the playlist.

chapter synopsis - There’s no denying it anymore - not that you’d want to. You and Bucky fit together in every sense of the word.

pairing - dads bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. harassment, and then conversations surrounding past incidents of harassment. bucky calls reader a whore (not viciously).

word count - 5.3k

authors note - this is a long one!! I got a bit carried away with the smut, but honestly… it was a little overdue. I needed bucky and honey to get a little down and dirty sometime soon, and there’s no time like the present. as always - your love and support is invaluable to me, and i’d be nowhere without it. love you <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

masterlist. inbox.

Your hips sway gently to the music that plays as you watch your own reflection in the mirror. Sweeping a makeup brush across your cheeks, you laugh as Bucky presses open mouthed kisses to your bare shoulder.

“Getting ready takes ten times longer when you’re here, you know.”

Your soulmate laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling your back into his chest as he sways with you.

“You love it,” he murmurs into your ear. “You got a lifetime of this, honey. Get used to it.”

“God help me,” you giggle, squealing as he pinches your side. “I’m never going to get anywhere on time ever again, am I?”

“Worth it though.”

He winks at you in the mirror, and you can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. Spinning in his arms, you lean up to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Luckily for you, Lacie is the worst person at being on time. I actually don’t think she’s been punctual to anything, ever. You have to tell her six if you want her to be there at eight.”

“I like her more every time you tell another story.”

“I feel like I should warn you.”

“Uh oh.”

You fight back the smile threatening to take over your face.

“She means well. She’s got a heart of gold, and good intentions always. She’s just… blunt, sometimes. She doesn’t mess around, or avoid the tough conversations. She’ll always tell you exactly how it is. And sometimes that can come across as rudeness, or that she’s a little… prickly? But she’s not, I promise.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I get it. And I trust your judgement, always. You’re a good judge of character - I’ve never doubted that. She loves you and she wants to protect you, and so do I. I think you’ll find we have a lot more in common than you think.”

“I hope so. This is kind of a huge deal for me. And the more I think about it, the more worried I get.”

“Worried about what, honey?”

Bucky leans back against your dresser, using his hands on your hips to keep you against his front. You tilt into his body, resting your head on his chest.

“That you won’t like each other, or something. Which is stupid, I know. But the two of you mean so much to me, and I can’t lose either of you, and I just…”

“You’re spiralling.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna have a fun night, okay? If you put too much pressure on it, it’ll crumble under its own weight. Just breathe, baby. It’s dinner and drinks. Nothing you haven’t done before.”

“Dinner and drinks.”

“Exactly. Thankfully, actually, because I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“You know me so well.”

He chuckles as he leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It ruins what was left of your lip gloss, but you don’t mind.

“It’s us against the world, remember? That includes double dates.”

You shake your head, scoffing as you break away to pull your shoes onto your feet. Taking a step back, you check your reflection in the mirror, not missing the way Bucky’s eyes follow the shape of your body all the way down and back up again.

“Quit that.”

“Quit what?”

“That, Barnes.”

“What, honey girl?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

You grab your purse and your jacket, giving him a once over to make sure he’s ready.

“We need to go. We actually should have left about ten minutes ago, but someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“You want an encore?”

He lurches forward, fingers digging into your sides as you thrash in his hold. Your knees buckle as the tickling continues, punching at his biceps to get him to stop. You finally break away, panting as you keep him at arms length.

“Pull that shit again and I will kill you, James. You hear me?”

“I’m so scared,” he jokes, laughing infectiously.

You grin as you push him out of the door, shaking your head as you do it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The restaurant Lacie has picked is perfect.

It’s a place the two of you have been to many times - intimate but not too quiet. It’s all candlelight and real wood and big, open windows. You can hear the sound of chatter and laughter from down the street, warm and inviting.

A wave of nostalgia overcomes you as you stand on the sidewalk and wait for your best friend. You spent your 21st birthday here with Lacie, getting drunk on sweet cherry cocktails and dipping pieces of fresh bread in olive oil to soak up the alcohol. The entire night consisted of giggling and gossiping, until you’d wobbled home in your high heels, hands tightly clasped together just like when you were kids. You both fell asleep tangled in Lacie’s pink ruffled bedsheets, cuddled up and wearing your old matching Looney Tunes pyjamas.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” Bucky asks, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Just thinking about all the nights me and Lacie have spent here. We’d always order the Cocktail of the Day, no matter what it was. Sometimes it was the best thing we’d ever drank, sometimes it was so vile we’d down it in one to get it over with.”

He laughs all deep and hearty, the sound vibrating through you where you’re pressed into his side. You’re looking down the street when you hear a shout from the opposite direction.

“Is that my bestie and her soulmate I see? Looking hot as ever?”

“Yeah, baby!”

You start walking towards her voice, grinning as you go. She holds out her arms, bracing herself when you run into them.

Lacie hugs you like she hasn’t seen you in years - and honestly, it kind of feels like it. She squeezes you as tightly as she can, cutting off your oxygen supply. You don’t mind one bit, squeezing her back just as tightly.

You hook your chin over her shoulder to see Bucky and Cameron shaking each other’s hands, going through first meeting formalities. Breaking away from Lacie, you pull her soulmate into a friendly hug that he reciprocates eagerly.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” he smiles, linking his hand with Lacie’s as if he’s scared to be apart from her for too long.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” you repeat, leaning into the warmth of Bucky’s hand on the small of your back.

“It’s true, she has. Probably too much,” Lacie laughs, guiding you all to the hostess at the front door.

You’re seated outside, on the terrace with a gorgeous view of the coastline. It’s breezy but not windy, warm but not hot. It’s perfect. The sun is starting to begin its slow descent, and the orange glow lights up Bucky like he’s a heavenly being, some sort of celestial creature. It’s hard to read the drinks menu when all you want to do is stare at your soulmate for hours on end.

“Babe… shall we get a cocktail of the day?”

“You remembered!”

“Of course I did,” your best friend giggles, kicking your shin under the table. “Remember that one that was full of rose petals, and we kept accidentally eating them?”

“Or the one with the sour sugar on the rim? Must have been the most sour thing I’ve ever tried.”

“This isn’t filling me with hope,” Cameron chuckles, setting down his menu to put his trust in Lacie anyway.

The waitress brings over four pink cocktails in rocks glasses, popping straws in them when she reaches the table.

“Cherry and lemon,” she informs you. “It’s delicious.”

She’s right. It’s definitely one of the, if not the best cocktail you’ve ever had in this place - a million times better than the rose petal one. When you’ve all ordered your food, conversation turns to the elephant in the room. Soulmates.

“So you guys were strangers, right?” Bucky asks the two people across from you.

They both instantly light up, ecstatic to be able to tell their story.

“Complete strangers. We’d never met each other in our lives. I walked into the gym as usual, and there he was. All gorgeous and tanned and tattooed and muscled.”

They interlink their fingers, beaming at each other.

“I could see it all instantly,” Cameron takes over. “Living together, marriage, kids, the rest of our lives. It was like a vision, this prediction of what’s to come on a big screen in my mind.”

He leans in to kiss Lacie, all tender and so full of love. Anyone within a fifty mile radius can feel their connection.

“So, Lacie said you guys already knew each other?”

You knew this line of questioning would happen sooner or later, but you didn’t realise just how nervous it’d make you feel. Bucky senses your anxiety instantly, wrapping his fingers around yours under the table. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the back of your hand, the familiar and comforting motion calming you down easily.

“Uh, yeah. We’d known each other for a few years. He’s my dad’s best friend.”

“Oh, shit. I mean Lacie explained back when you told her, but that’s so… complicated. How did your parents take it?”

“We… don’t know,” Bucky explains. “We haven’t exactly had that conversation yet.”

“But you guys have been soulmates for like two years, right?”

“It’s been complicated, like you said,” you pick up. “I wasn’t home for a lot of it, I was back in California for work. And we tried to tell them, but my Dad got sick, and then it turns out that they actually already knew. So, maybe in hindsight, complicated is actually an understatement.”

Lacie laughs with nothing but love in her eyes, stepping on your foot affectionately in a gesture of solidarity.

“Told you they were complex, Cam.”

“A lot more complex than us, lovebug,” he chuckles.

“You hear that, baby?” Bucky leans over to whisper in your ear. “We’re complex.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, turning your head to press a kiss into his jaw.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The food is divine.

It’s all small plates, Mediterranean inspired and delicious. Seafood, charred vegetables, beautiful mixes of herbs spices with everything doused in olive oil and balsamic.

“Holy shit. I don’t think I can eat for a week after this.”

“You gonna have to unbuckle that designer belt of yours, Cameron?”

You’re met with a cacophony of laughter and shaking heads.

“I like her,” he tells Lacie with a smile. “I see why you two work.”

“Aha, I’ve earned the Cameron seal of approval! Hear that, Lace? He likes me.”

“Oh god. My bestie and my soulmate are gonna be friends. There are so many embarrassing stories that are going to be shared, aren’t there?”

“So many,” you and Cameron say in unison.

Lacie’s shaking her head but she can’t stop laughing, buzzed off of the speciality cocktails and the joy of having her favourite people get along.

“Okay, okay, before we get into that,” she intervenes, “we’re having brunch with my sisters and their soulmates tomorrow. So I hate to be a buzzkill… but I’m gonna have to cut this short, before we pass the point of hungover beyond return.”

“Say hi to them for me, won’t you? I haven’t seen them in so long.”

“Laura’s getting married in a few months - I’ll make sure you two get an invite. They’d love to see you again soon, they both ask about you all the time.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You say your goodbyes, hugs and promises to see each other as soon as possible exchanged with love and excitement.

“I’m moving into Cameron’s place finally, and I’m gonna need your help decorating, babe. Will you come shopping with me sometime this week? I trust your taste.”

“Of course, Lace. I’d love to. Just text me, and we’ll arrange something.”

She presses a lipgloss stained kiss to your cheek, smelling like strawberries and giggles from your childhood.

“Bye, you two! So lovely to see you again, Bucky.”

“You too, Lacie. Good to see you guys, and good to finally meet you, Cam.”

“Cam,” Lacie whispers to you. “They’re besties already.”

You can’t help but laugh, waving them off with Bucky’s hand entangled with yours. After they’ve gone, you both sit back down at the table, exhaling.

“See? Wasn’t as bad as you thought, right?”

“I never thought it’d be bad,” you tease. “Just thought it’d be… intense. Which it was, but in a good way, I think.”

“You wanna have a drink just the two of us? Then we can go home, get into our pyjamas, rewatch an episode or two of Twin Peaks.”

“Sounds perfect,” you assure, standing up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before getting ready to make your way to the bar. “The usual, my love?”

“Surprise me, honey.”

You saunter inside, leaving Bucky sitting pretty on the balcony. The breeze gently blows the linen of his shirt, billowing the material and making him look like an angel.

“Can I get two old fashioneds when you get the chance? Thank you.”

The bartender nods her head at you, giving you a gentle smile before turning away to make your drinks. You take a seat on a stool, resting your feet in your heels for a moment.

“Excuse me?”

A pause.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A man slides into the stool next to you, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were talking to me.”

“I don’t usually do this, but I saw you across the room and just had to tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You spin around in your place to get a good look at the man who’s speaking. He’s only got a few inches of height on you, but he’s built stocky and strong, with a certain glimmer in his eyes that leaves a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Uh, thank you. That’s kind.”

You try to spin back around, but a clammy hand wraps itself around your forearm, effectively stopping you.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry, sweet thing. Just wanted to talk a little more.”

His voice is dripping with condescension, terribly masking venom and ill intent. The whole situation feels tense and too charged, and you’re desperate to find a way out without upsetting him. You look over to the bartender, trying to catch her attention.

“So you’re here by yourself? Pretty girl like you, you shouldn’t be alone. You don’t know who’s around.”

Your heartbeat picks up, hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. You’re screaming to Bucky in your mind, begging for him to sense your unease as soon as possible. This man still has a grip on your arm, his other hand moving to rest on your thigh. A cold chill overcomes you, and you know it isn’t from the ocean breeze.

“I’m here with my boyfriend,” you choke out. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Really?” he asks, squeezing his grip tighter. “Where?”

“Right here.”

A familiar voice booms from behind you, rumbling through your bones. You exhale shakily, desperate to turn around but unable to.

“This your daddy, sweet thing?”

“He’s my boyfriend, actually.”

Your voice is shaking, and Bucky hates how vulnerable you sound. You feel the sharp pang of sadness stab through his chest momentarily.

“Take your hands off the lady, asshole. Now.”

When the man doesn’t move, Bucky steps in, plastering himself to your back.

“I won’t ask again,” he reiterates, tone deep and low.

The man seems to get the message, judging by the way he slowly backs away from you. The minute he’s far enough away, Bucky slips a hand under your hair to hold the back of your neck, pulling you into his body. You melt into him, resting your head on his chest and breathing him in.

“Oh, your old fashioneds! I’ll start them now. Sorry!” you hear from behind the bar.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Bucky says over your head to the bartender. “We’re gonna get going.”

You assume she nods, because Bucky pulls you gently off your stool, leading you towards the door.

“Come on, angel,” he murmurs into your temple. “Let’s go home.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky’s hand doesn’t leave yours the entire way back to his house.

You both spend more time at your place than you do at his, so it makes a nice change. You love being here, because it is so completely enveloped by Bucky.

You see him everywhere. His favourite soft grey blanket strewn across the back of the couch, his handmade green mug that you bought him in California left ready on the counter by the coffee machine, the weathered and worn blue plaid pyjama pants he loves folded on the bed.

You hear him everywhere. The trees that he planted in the backyard rustling in the breeze, the soft hum of the refrigerator that he fixed himself six months ago, the reruns of vintage shows that play on the TV when he knows you need some background noise.

You smell him everywhere. The lingering scent of his cologne on every surface, his favourite laundry detergent that clings to his comforter even after he’s slept in it time and time again, the salt from the breeze that billows through the house when he leaves the windows open.

You feel him everywhere. The indent of where his head has laid on his pillows, the fingerprint shaped divots in the arm of the couch where he rests his hand as he watches a movie, the light switch in the hallway that has worn away due to him always pressing it with his elbow when he walks through the front door.

He’s in all four corners of this house, plastered all over it north, south, east and west. His very being lives in the walls, the floors, the ceilings. His spirit has cemented itself into the foundations, down through the Earth that it’s built on.

You couldn’t love it more if you tried.

And now, you see glimpses of you. Your toothbrush and shampoo in the bathroom, your mug waiting ready at the coffee machine, the smear of nail polish you accidentally spilled on the coffee table one evening that won’t quite come off. Your pyjamas folded next to his on the bed, your shoes next to his at the door, your socks next to his in the top drawer.

Neither of your places are yours or his, now. They belong to the two of you. You refer to my apartment as our apartment. He refers to his house as our house. You’re not sure when it began, but it’s happening more and more as of late. It makes you happy beyond words.

Your place, his place… doesn’t matter. Home is wherever you’re together.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky kneels in front of you where you sit on the edge of the bed, unbuckling your heels. He digs his thumbs into the bottom of your feet, releasing some of the tension firmly but carefully.

“You sure you’re okay, honey?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m okay.”

You look down at him, caressing his stubbled cheek gently. He looks back up at you with those big blue eyes blown wide, so full of concern you can practically feel it buzzing around the room.

“If you wanna talk about it…”

“I know. I can talk to you about anything, baby. And I will, when I need to. Look… it was scary in the moment. But I also knew that you were on the terrace outside, and that you’d come and get me eventually. Plus, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

He takes a pause, still working his thumb into your soles.

“You deal with this stuff a lot?” he asks after a moment.

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. All girls do. You know that.”

“I do. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s different, when it’s the person you love the most in the world.”

“I get that. It’s not different for us, though.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, my love,” you whisper, tracing your fingertips across the features of his face. “You came along and saved me, so.”

“I would have come sooner, you know. I felt it in my chest pretty quick, but got stuck talking to a client of mine. I was inching away for so long before I had to just tell him to leave me alone.”

“It’s okay, we’re all okay. I don’t wanna focus on it. It’s done now.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to me anytime if you need to, though?”

“Promise,” you reassure, linking your pinky finger with his.

You both sit like that for a while, just thinking. You’re still tracing his face, following the beautiful lines and curves as if it’s a colouring book. Focusing on the warmth of his hands on you, you can’t help but let your mind wander to how he handled the guy at the bar. You’ve never seen him so assertive, almost threatening. And the more you think about it, the more you realise - you liked it. Obviously, the situation was unpleasant and far from ideal, but when you hone in on the way your soulmate swooped in to save you…

“What are you thinking about, pretty?” he asks, noticing the way your eyes have clouded over.

“Just the way you looked in that bar. All strong and domineering and in charge.”

“Yeah?”

There’s a dirty smirk making his way onto his handsome face, all mischievous and cunning.

“Yeah. You walked in and saved me like it was nothing. I felt so safe, with the hottest guy in the world protecting me.”

You dance your fingertips across Bucky’s face, tracing his bottom lip.

“I could have killed him,” he murmurs, nipping at the pad of your thumb. “Touching what’s mine.”

Oh. You’ve never heard him speak about you like this, but you’re glad you’re already sitting down - otherwise you’d be melting into a puddle on the ground.

“Mhmm? Yours?”

“You know you’re mine, angel. I have no doubts about that.”

The juxtaposition of it all is making your head spin. Bucky is knelt below you, looking up at you with his ocean blue eyes, but he’s still the one in charge. He’s the one making your knees buckle while his are digging into the carpet.

“I am yours,” you whisper.

“I know.”

His confidence is killing you. There’s sweat dripping down your back already, a bead of it slowly trickling down the curves of your spine. Your chest heaves as you refuse to break eye contact, desperately anticipating his next move.

“You like me like this, don’t you, honey? Sat at your feet, watching you, ready to do whatever you want. Do you even know how much power you hold? Do you even understand the things I would do for you?”

You might pass out if he keeps talking like this. To shut him up, you shove your thumb into his mouth, groaning when he laves over it with his tongue.

“I’ll give you anything,” he mumbles around your digit. “Just say the words.”

“Want you to fuck me,” you choke out.

“How?”

You press down on his tongue for a minute, taking a sick satisfaction in how his eyes water. There’s spit dripping down his chin and your wrist. It’s depraved. You want more.

“Like I’m yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Prove it. Show me. Make sure I don’t forget it.”

He bites down on your thumb before slipping it out of his mouth, licking a stripe from the bottom of it to the top.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You don’t know what you’ve just asked for.”

He rises suddenly, pulling you off the bed by your arms so you’re standing in front of him. He takes your place at the edge of the mattress, and you realise that you never had the advantage you thought you did.

“Strip.”

You raise a brow at him, and the stormy look you receive in response makes you shut your mouth.

“I won’t ask again, angel. Strip.”

You go to reach for your hem when a hand darts out and catches yours.

“Ah ah ah. What’s the rush? Put on a show for me, baby. Come on.”

You slow right down, carefully undoing the zipper on your dress before gently pulling it up to underneath your chest. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s breath hitches at the sight of what you’ve had on underneath your outfit all night. You pull it up and over your head softly, standing in front of him in your lacy black underwear that you’ve been waiting to debut.

“Fuck, honey girl. Is that new?”

You only nod before stepping forward to stand in between his legs, smiling when his hands fly straight out to rest on your hips.

“You still want me to strip? Or shall I keep this on, let you enjoy it a little longer?”

“Keep it on,” he mumbles against your stomach, pressing kisses to any skin he can reach. “Wanna fuck you in it.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere.”

You laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his quickly.

“Come sit here,” he decides, patting his thighs.

You go to oblige but stop, pouting at Bucky where he looks up at you.

“What is it, baby?”

“This feels unfair,” you point at him. “You’re wearing all your clothes.”

“Which is the way it’ll stay, until I decide otherwise.”

With that he pulls you down into his lap, manoeuvring you so you’re sat with your legs spread apart by his, back pressed to his chest. You look straight ahead to see yourself in the full length mirror, with Bucky’s self satisfied expression behind you.

“Want you to see what I see,” he explains, running his fingers across your thighs in a featherlight touch. “You should see how pretty you look when you come.”

He cups you over your underwear, both of you groaning in unison.

“This is all for me? All mine?”

All you can do is nod, not trusting your voice anymore. Bucky hooks your panties to the side and runs a finger through your wetness, smothering it around and making a mess on purpose.

“I love you like this,” he murmurs into your ear. “All messy and careless and desperate for me. You’d do anything I asked. So good for me.”

He slides a finger into you, pulling it out swiftly and adding a second. There’s no resistance, only your warm, wet heat sucking him straight back in. You buck your hips, trying to get him to curl them how you like.

“Please,” you whine, squirming in his lap. “Please, Buck.”

He knows exactly what you need, crooking his fingers to hit that spot just right. He can play you like an instrument, plucking at your strings until you’re teetering on the edge in no time.

“Wait,” you plead, gripping his wrist. “Don’t wanna come yet.”

Bucky slows his movements to a halt, kissing your neck and catching your eyes in the mirror.

“No, baby? Why?”

You grab his hand and remove his fingers from you, sucking them into your mouth without breaking eye contact with him. When you’ve licked them clean, you lean back to murmur into his jaw.

“I wanna come on your cock.”

With a gentle kiss to his jaw, you add ever so politely,

“Please.”

Bucky’s never been one to deny you anything, and he’s not about to start now.

“Fuck, look at you. I’ve turned you into a whore.”

“You love it.”

He chuckles all deep and low, the sound rumbling through your body. Pushing you off his lap, you’re confused for a moment before he starts undressing, putting on a show of his own for you.

“C’mere,” he says finally, now fully naked and sat back in his original spot at the edge of the mattress. “Come and watch how pretty you look when you’re sitting on my cock.”

You settle back where you were, legs spread wide by his thick thighs. One of his arms is wrapped around your middle, keeping you firmly plastered to his chest as his other hand lands at the base of your throat.

“Okay, baby. S’all yours. Take what you need.”

His arrogance is doing nothing to soothe the ache between your legs, your arousal dripping through your pretty lace underwear. It’s ruined, but you couldn’t care less.

Lining him up and sinking down, you both groan at the sensation. He fills you up perfectly, almost as if you were made for each other. When you realise you were, your legs go jelly.

“Atta girl. Use me, baby. Fuck yourself, that’s it.”

You use his thighs as leverage, rising up onto your tiptoes to slam back down. Finding a steady rhythm, you feel a funny sense of pride at doing it yourself, at being the one to take you both apart.

Bucky’s praise doesn’t stop, the timbre of his voice in your ear like melted honey, all warm and golden. He presses kisses into your shoulders, your neck, your back, anywhere he can reach. When he can tell you’re getting tired, he starts canting his hips upwards when you come down. He knows he’s hit the right spot when you half collapse backwards into him, whining. His hands tighten their grip on your hip and your throat, keeping you upright.

Your soulmate directs your head back towards the mirror, forcing you to look at your fucked out reflection.

“Look at you,” he hums. “You look wrecked, baby. Such a fucking mess.”

“For you,” you slur, still willing your legs to do the work.

You’re so close you can taste it, and Bucky knows this. His hand that was on your hip migrates to between your legs, where he rubs slow but firm circles on your clit. Your knees buckle, and he knows you’re done for.

“Look at yourself,” he demands, keeping your head up with his grip on you. “Look how fucking pretty you look when you come.”

You watch yourself - the way your jaw drops open and your muscles tighten, back arching up and away. You then shift your gaze to Bucky’s reflection just in time to watch him finish. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen - his teeth sunken into your shoulder, sweat dripping down his chest, eyes blown so wide you can’t tell they’re blue anymore.

The two of you sit like that for a while, still connected in every sense of the word. You’re trying to catch your breath, every bone in your body completely relaxed. Bucky’s arms circle your middle, ensuring every inch of his skin is pressed to yours.

“Told you,” he mumbles into your jaw. “Prettiest sight in the fucking world, honey girl.”

You tilt your head up to look at the two of you, the way you fit together so perfectly.

Yeah, you think. Prettiest sight in the world.

tag list

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[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (Epilogue)

ー☆ Epilogue

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: suggestive language, cursing, smut ー☆ Word count: 8.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: mature ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: I chose no song for this chapter, so everyone is free to listen to whatever or not listen to anything at all, however, while doing the moodboard I was listening to Power and I actually started sobbing, so uh, you can give it a listen if you wish to! I won't yap here, so see you at the end of the chapter! <3 I hope you enjoy, and as always, let me know what y'all thought of the last chapter of my beloved series. divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

3 months later

            Spring was finally approaching, the weather having turned less harsh and warmer in the span of a few weeks, slowly painting nature in its vibrant and gorgeous colors that I would never get enough of. And we were lucky the air was warmer now outside, because in the confines of the limited space of my little studio of my Arts Club at university—which is more of a storage room to be fair—the smell of fresh dye and incense mingled together almost in a nauseating way, leaving me no option but to crack open the small window of the studio. Well, since it was so high up, I had to ask Mingi to open it as I didn’t want to get on a chair as I would have had to walk to the front of the room, and I was too lazy to do that. Music played quietly in the corner from Mingi’s portable speaker as he hummed along the melody of the song, typing away on his phone as his shoulders were slouched over, head lowered.

My eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as I bit my tongue, making sure the dye spread out evenly at the back of Mingi’s head, not wanting to leave spots of his previously platinum blonde hair. Around a week ago, he and Seonghwa hung out under the pretense of watching movies and having a boys' night in which they would drink beer and maybe compose some music, however, the next day when Mingi came over to have lunch with my mother and me, his hair was short. The long strands that curled prettily against his nape and ears were gone, replaced by short spikey hair that stuck up against his head, giving him a punkish look. My mother had squealed when she saw him, touched his hair, and then cradled his cheeks, gushing about how handsome he was, making me glare at the two as they forgot about my existence. Instead, I went and set the table and left them to their usual gossiping, shaking my head when my mother told him all about the new hot doctor at work she had her eyes on.

At times, those two would get lost in their own world and forget about my existence, amusing me, but also prompting me to give them a side-eye. Don’t get me wrong, I was beyond the moon that my boyfriend and mother got along really well, but at times it almost felt like I didn’t even exist—and before you would be like Mingi and say that I am dramatic, the fact that my mother seemed to love Yunho just as much as Mingi, definitely sent me into an existential crisis after the first time she confessed she loved the two as if they were her own sons. And about Yunho, well, yes, we’ve worked out our differences—which involved a lot of explaining, invoking buried memories, and a lot of apologies from Yunho’s side—so now we were all a big happy family—family as in not to be misunderstood, we all loved each other and had a nice bond. To be honest, I felt no mal-intent towards Yunho when after a month of dating Mingi we finally decided to sit down and discuss everything with his best friend, and I even found myself now confiding in him and asking him for advice in areas Seulgi—and Wooyoung—couldn’t help, because, after all, Yunho knew Mingi best. And Yunho’s girlfriend was an absolute angel and sweetheart, I took a liking to her quite quickly and found her love for literature rather adorable as she’d often quote her favorite characters from her favorite books.

Mingi snickered as I playfully pushed his head forward as I was done dyeing his platinum hair to a regular, darker, blonde with pink hues in it. I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he found so amusing but he cradled his phone to his chest and made me roll my eyes as I walked to the sink to wash the small bowl and the brush I used to dye his hair. Mingi changed the music to something more upbeat and a lot noisier than the music he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa made, and I came to realize the speaker was playing Limp Bizkit. I couldn’t say that I enjoyed their music too much, I preferred something more indie, but I still appreciated some of their songs. I turned on the faucet and started washing the brush first as Mingi approached me and leaned against the counter, lips pursed as he tried to hide his cheeky smile. I threw him a questioning look as I rinsed the bowl out, applying a little soap in it to wash out the dye completely as Mingi finally spoke up, “Check this out, ‘Your face is a work of art, my legs should frame it.’”

My eyebrows furrowed as I gave Mingi a confused look, quickly making him pout, “Oh, come on! It’s ‘art rizz’!”

I snorted as I placed the bowl and brush aside to dry, peeling the gloves off my hands carefully to not stain my clothes or skin, “You’ve had better ones Mings, besides, shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I mean,” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as he pocketed his phone in his light pink jeans, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He wore a white loose sleeveless tank top today, his biceps bulged from the action and I tried not to let my eyes linger on the well-defined muscles, “I definitely like the idea you’re suggesting—”

“As if we haven’t done that already.” I interrupted with a pointed look and Mingi just rolled his eyes.

“That’s beside the point,” And then he was smirking, leaning into my space as I rinsed the soap off my hands, “wait, are you suggesting something right now?”

“I just dyed your hair, Mingi, no, I’m not suggesting anything.” I sighed, unimpressed, as I shut the faucet off and grabbed a small towel to dry my hands off in it. You see, Mingi is rather…vocal with his needs and quick in executing them, so, I cannot say we haven’t been… active, if you know what I mean.

“Pity.” Mingi pouted for a second before he moved on to the next subject, his brain sometimes moving too fast for me to be able to keep up with him, “You remember that well-dressed woman from our last gig at Outlaw?”

“I sure do, she looked rather out of place with her pencil skirt and blouse.” I hummed as I leaned my hip against the sink, facing Mingi. He grinned and then fished his phone out of his pocket again and unlocked it, clicking on something I couldn’t see. Then, he cleared his throat and raised it to a higher pitch that was definitely mocking the woman’s voice.

“Mr. Song, I am delighted to let you know that Horizon Records would love to work with Noir Zenith, and we’d like to set an appointment as soon as it fits you and your bandmates' schedule. – Hong J.” Mingi bit his bottom lip as my eyes widened, prompting me to hold onto his wrist in excitement.

“Wait,” I said, eyebrows lightly furrowing, “isn’t this that super famous and huge record everyone dreams of getting signed to?!”

And when Mingi’s smile grew into a hug grin, I felt joy and excitement fill my senses as I grabbed both of Mingi’s hands, jumping up and down as he giggled and followed along, the two of us jumping in small circles like little kids. I couldn’t believe my ears, this was even bigger than the last record they agreed to sign with for half a year—the one Hongjoong helped out with—and once their contract was over, they could sign a new one with Horizon Records.

“That’s fucking amazing, Mingi!” I exclaimed loudly as we finally stopped jumping around, my heart beating fast as Mingi nodded in excitement, his teeth visible as he couldn’t stop smiling.

“I know, Wooyoung started running laps while screaming and Seonghwa cried clinging to me for half an hour when I told them.” I chuckled at the image in my head, but quickly realized the message wasn’t fresh. Before I could go off on him for hiding something so important from me, Mingi beat me to it, a knowing glint in his eyes, “Mrs. Hong sent the text yesterday afternoon and I only didn’t tell you about it because I knew we’d meet today and I wanted to see your reaction, so, don’t be mad, please.”

And how could I be mad at him when his plump lips were jutting out and his eyebrows raised in a manner that made him look adorable and heartbreaking at the same time? I huffed and squeezed his hands before I released them, trying to play off the fact that he already knew me so well, “I wasn’t about to get mad, I’m very happy for you and the rest of the boys, my love.”

Mingi giggled and looked away, the high of his cheekbones slightly flushed, and I grinned because I could never get over the fact that calling him ‘love’ or ‘my love’ turned him into a giggling and blushing mess. It was adorable, cute, and somehow still sexy, and before I would let any stray thoughts enter my head and distract me from the plans we had, I cleared my throat, “We should eat that pizza we ordered, it’s probably already gone cold.”

Mingi hummed but didn’t speak up as I went to walk towards the white sheet we had laid on the floorboards to sit on, pizza, black nail polish, Mingi’s pink beanie, and my sketchbook scattered all over it. However, before I could take another step, my feet suddenly weren’t touching the ground anymore as I was lifted by the waist, a squeal leaving my lips as I clutched onto Mingi’s bare arms, “Mingi! Put me down!”

“No.” He giggled against my neck and I felt his warm lips press a small kiss against my nape as my hair was in a bun, then he was running towards the sheet as we both laughed, the song playing through the speaker drowned out by our loudness. He finally placed me back down on my feet when we reached the white sheet and I sat down in a crisscross position, opening the box of pizza as Mingi took his seat across me. I grinned as I grabbed a slice, my stomach growling in hunger once again, and then I took a bite of the cheesy pepperoni pizza, making Mingi chuckle as he looked less hungry and less eager to devour our lunch for today. I extended my hand for his phone and he gave it to me without a word, I typed in his password before I looked through his playlist, taking bites of my pizza in the meantime. I found a slower beat that I liked and switched the currently playing song to that and then handed his phone back after I locked it, smiling as Mingi was flipping through my newest sketchbook which had mostly drawings of him.

I didn’t expect him to flip to that particular page and I almost choked as the pizza went down a little array, making Mingi smirk as he pulled the drawing closer to himself, dark eyes inspecting his sleeping form in the drawing. Well, the drawing looked completely innocent unless you knew what happened before it, and I couldn’t help but blush harder when Mingi bit his lower lip, pizza in his hand forgotten as he traced the blanket that hung low on his naked hips, torso on display and face serene as he had been in a deep slumber. When he looked up, he didn’t look much too smug, but there was a glint in his eyes that I had become accustomed to too well. He was in awe, but he was turned on, and I couldn’t help but stuff my face more with pizza, satiating my hunger as a means of distraction from the fact that I drew Mingi post-sex not even four days ago.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a talented songwriter and composer but a good hell of a painter.” His voice was deeper as he mumbled, taking a bite of his pizza as he glanced back down at the drawing, “I want to draw you too, to capture you in all forms and commemorate you for an eternity.”

Well, what a way to make me blush harder. I grabbed another slice as I had finished the first one as a means to stall for a second, ponder over my answer, “You’re good with your words though, unlike me. I always struggle to express myself concisely, yet to you it’s easy. You create beautiful lyrics and you never fail to capture my true nature in your songs, so I think I’ll always live on in your music, Mingi, you have already commemorated me for an eternity.”

That made Mingi blink in surprise as he hadn’t even realized that before, and I smiled as he gave me a lasting look before he flipped the page, the drawing of him playing with a kitten I had found outside my porch. Now, she was our kitten and she, obviously, loved Mingi more than me—just like my mother, I didn’t try to complain about this too, “You inspire me like none other.”

“You inspire me too, Mings.” Mingi’s smile was shy as he continued flipping through the sketchbook, less filled than my other ones as I decided to dedicate this one only to him. He’d seen the older sketches plenty of times before, yet he never failed to become shy when looking through them.

I finished my slice of pizza, dusted my hands off and made sure my cheeks weren’t greasy as I leaned towards the black nail polish, shaking it in front of Mingi with a grin, “Ready to get your nails painted?”

He nodded excitedly and handed me his left hand as he still held his slice of pizza in the right one. His thick fingers were smooth and decorated with rings, much like mine, and I flipped my left hand around to place his palm in mine. After having arrived at my humble studio once we were finished with our classes for the day, Mingi got to work and painted my nails. He had bought some new nail polish a week ago and convinced me to surprise me with them, so, the nails on my left hand were now almost neon green and the nails on my right hand almost Barbie pink. Sometime along, painting each other’s nails became a habit, something we both enjoyed doing and now we could confidently call it our thing.

I concentrated hard to not smudge the skin around his nails, eyebrows furrowed and teeth clamping down on my bottom lip as Mingi’s eyes were either on me or his nails, bobbing his head along to the rhythm of the song playing. He usually chewed loudly and I was thankful he kept his mouth closed this time, knowing that it would only irritate me if he started chewing on his slice of pizza aggressively—it wouldn’t be the first time he does it just to annoy me. As I finished doing his middle finger, his phone rang and Mingi reached over to his left side as he bit on the crust of his pizza, picking his phone off the floor as the music cut off. He accepted the phone call and put it on speaker as I chuckled and watched him take out the crust from his mouth so that he could talk.

“Hey! Song Mingi!” It was unmistakably Wooyoung’s voice as he screamed into the phone, making me concerned that Mingi would lose his hearing if he had just normally picked up the phone without putting it on speaker, “What’s up, bro?!”

Mingi snickered, shaking his head as I finished painting the nails on his left hand, “I told you yesterday that I would hang out with Y/N after classes.”

“Ah, right,” Wooyoung hummed as I leaned down to press a kiss against Mingi’s hand, making him grin as he finished his slice, eagerly handing over his right hand to paint his nails, “And where are you two lovebirds?”

“In her studio,” Mingi answered as I got to work, careful as always as I painted his pinkie’s nail.

“Now that you mention, Seulgi said something about not being able to work on her assignment in the studio because of you two.”

I scoffed and before Mingi could answer, I spoke up as I leaned towards the phone, “I told Seulgi to do her assignment not two days before the deadline, and I also told her a week ago that I’d be hounding the studio with Mingi today.”

“Heard that babe?!” Wooyoung’s voice was distant just for a second, then he snickered, “She says you’re lucky she loves you, otherwise she would’ve kicked you out of your studio.”

“My own studio.” I huffed and applied another coat over Mingi’s forefinger’s nail to even out the texture, “What a bitch.”

“A bitch that is forced to listen to her best friend’s constant bitching, who’s the bitch now, Y/N?” Everyone snickered and I rolled my eyes as there was the unmistakable sound of a kiss pressed against a cheek through the phone, Mingi and I shared a look of mild disgust as I went to paint his thumb’s nail.

“Don’t start making out while you’re on the phone with me, Wooyoung.” Mingi’s voice carried disgust but there was a hint of amusement, “Anyways, what’s the purpose of your call? You never call unless you need something or I ask you to remind me of something.”

“It’s neither this time,” Seulgi chuckled through the phone, and then there was shuffling and I knew she walked away. I finished Mingi’s nails and closed the bottle of nail polish, sitting up on my knees to kiss Mingi’s cheek as he bit his lower lip, grinning at me as he wriggled his fingers happily.

“Do not be late to Aurora’s opening tonight and wear something extra fancy, Hongjoong will have our heads if we don’t honor his fiancé for God’s sake.” Wooyoung sounded mildly annoyed but it was no secret that he loved Hongjoong probably almost as much as he loved all of his friends, however, he’d never admit that to anyone. Aurora became the name of Seonghwa’s studio and small gallery, and tonight was the grand opening. Everyone was excited about it, with Seonghwa being a nerve wreck as he feared people wouldn’t show up. After having talked to both him and Hongjoong, they agreed to display a few of my paintings in the front lobby and I was giddy and curious about everyone’s reaction to them. Nobody knew what I had handed over to Seonghwa, and he had beamed when his eyes took in the paintings, he getting emotional instead of me and making me chuckle as I hugged him tightly and thanked him for the opportunity.

“You should worry about yourself, Woo,” Mingi teased with a chuckle, “Y/N and I will look impeccable, as always.”

“That is for sure,” I muttered as I sat back on my ankles, watching Mingi with a grin as we had decided to match our outfits for the night.

“Talk to you later, we’ve got some business to attend to with Y/N now.” And then Wooyoung said his goodbye and they hung up as Mingi pointed towards the pizza with a pout, “I’m still hungry, will you feed me?”

And even if I said no and rolled my eyes, five minutes later Mingi had a teasing glint in his eyes as I fed him his third slice of pizza, smart enough to remain silent or else I wouldn’t have continued feeding him or helping him drink water while his nails dried.

            Barely an hour later, when Mingi’s hunger and thirst were satiated and his nails were dry, we replaced the white sheet with a huge flat canvas that we would paint over. We had agreed on painting a scenery, something similar to the creek we so much liked to visit when the weather allowed it, but sometime along my attempts at making it look like the actual creek, Mingi’s not so painter skills came into the mix and created a—whatever that did not look like the creek. He refused to admit that what was supposed to be the water now looked like the sky, making the whole painting look like it was upside down from our standpoint, and he also kept on vehemently denying that he tried to paint a dick over the trunk of the tree I spent at least fifteen minutes on to make it look as realistic as possible. All in all, I concluded that without Mingi here I would’ve been able to finish the painting in a maximum of three hours, however, now there was no future for finding a vision in whatever we have created.

But I didn’t mind, because this was Mingi’s and my work, something we created together while laughing and talking about whatever came to our minds, the atmosphere light and joyful. I had also washed out the dye from his hair and we towel-dried it, making it look spikier than usual. I couldn’t lie, this new hair made Mingi look incredibly hot, and it took me some willpower to not jump him as he looked at me with those sharp eyes and a knowing smirk, the asshole.

“But you’ll dye it back to black soon, right?” I asked while painting clouds over the once creek turned sky now. Mingi was behind me, crouched down, and his clothes still somehow miraculously not stained. I wore my old overall knowing that I’d stain myself the second I opened a can of paint, and I wasn’t wrong at all as the edges of my pants were already stained green and white.

“I mean, do you hate this color?” Mingi asked from behind me as he dipped his brush into black, terrifying me of whatever he had in mind to do with the color once I saw him.

“What the hell do you need black for?!” I exclaimed as I grabbed his wrist, making his eyebrows shoot up in amusement.

“Aren’t artists supposed to just go with the flow?” His lips jutted out as he playfully leaned closer, my eyebrows furrowing as I was ready to oppose his idea, “You’re making me question your working etiquette, doll, I don’t find you creative enough—”

“As if!” I exclaimed only mildly offended as I knew Mingi was only teasing me, “Going with the flow and trusting your instincts is one thing, love, but having no vision or idea in mind is plain terrifying.”

“I was going to sign the top of it, but never mind—”

“Fine,” I groaned, gripping his wrist to stop Mingi from twisting away. His voice was whiney and he was pouting, not even looking at me as if he was offended. I knew he wasn’t; he was just acting up to get what he wanted. And unfortunately, it was working embarrassingly well on me, “Sign it.”

“Great!” He beamed as he leaned forward, mindful of staining his pink jeans with paint and I sighed as I shook my head, making curved lines before I colored them to make them look more like clouds. I had no idea what would become of the painting, but I certainly was eager to find out.

“Back to your hair,” I spoke up as Mingi carefully drew his ‘fix on’ signature onto the canvas, “I don’t hate the blonde but I miss your natural color, it suits you more, makes you look cuter and softer.”

“Aw,” Mingi turned back to give me puppy eyes—which he learned from Yunho, no doubt, “you like your boyfriend to be all soft and cute? I thought you like it when I get all wild and destroy—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Song Mingi.” I threatened as I sat back, brush pointed threateningly towards Mingi.

“Or what?” His crooked teeth showed as he grinned, quirking an eyebrow to annoy me further. I huffed and tried to think of a good comeback, but came up empty-handed for once so I gave him a pointed glare.

“I’ll stain you with paint.”

“Bet.”

“Bet.”

And I know Mingi didn’t expect me to actually follow through with my childish threat, but as I jerked my wrist in his direction, the remaining paint from my brush flew off and, well, stained his white sleeveless tank top. Mingi’s mouth fell open as he gaped down at himself, and I laughed, giving him a smug look.

“What, did you think I was fucking around?”

“Oh, I’ll make you wish you never did that!”

And before I could prepare myself for whatever attack he had planned, he pressed his hand against his brush and coated it in black paint then sprung towards me, making me gasp as his thick fingers drew a cold line against my cheekbone. Mingi grinned as I stared at him in surprise, but I reacted soon quickly as I pressed my fingers into the fresh paint on the canvas and returned the favor, the only difference being that I drew a circle on his forehead with white paint. Mingi blinked once, then twice, and a mischievous grin spread onto his lips which told me that I was in trouble.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, but Mingi was fast as he dug his whole hand in green paint and slapped my ass painfully hard, making me cry out as it stung even through the fabric, making me give him a deadly glare, “Song Mingi! That fucking hurt!”

“You’re a pussy.” He stuck his tongue out and I tsked, leaning down to push my whole hand inside the red paint. Mingi’s eyes widened as I gave him a victorious smirk, eyes narrowing as he jumped up to his feet, holding his arms up in defeat.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start a war—” But his futile attempts at saving his ass fell on deaf ears as I cackled and took off towards him, making him yelp as he tried to duck and run away, making us run around the canvas. We were both barefoot and as Mingi tried to jump over the canvas, he miscalculated where his long legs would land and landed on his freshly painted signature, making him yelp again as it was no doubt cold against his feet. I laughed as I easily caught up with him and felt up his chest, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s eyes widened.

“Oh, no, your white shirt is all stained now.” I fake pouted as Mingi froze, incredulous eyes looking between me and his shirt. I chuckled and clapped my hands together, deciding that my job was done here, but then Mingi was stepping back and leaving foot marks all over the canvas on purpose. I scoffed but didn’t care much, the poor painting had been long ruined. I crossed my arms in front of my chest in defiance as he dipped both of his hands in pink paint and then gave me a grin as he beckoned me over with a finger. I huffed in disbelief as if I’d hand myself over willingly to him. And he knew that because I dipped both of my hands in light blue paint and faced him again. Our stare-off was intense and calculating as we both tried to guess the other’s next step, and thinking I’d have the upper hand, I stepped in the middle of the canvas just as Mingi moved too and I raised my hands to dirty his tank top even more when he cupped my cheeks and made me squeal.

The paint felt cold against my skin and I knew it would dry it out once it started drying itself, but I was far too amused to worry about something so insignificant right now. Wanting revenge, I grasped his hair and massaged my hands well into the freshly dyed darker blonde strands, making his hair look like cotton candy due to the pink hue mixing with the light blue of the paint.

“My hair! Y/N!” Mingi whined loudly slapping my hands away, but I wasn’t finished as I dirtied his jaw, neck, and tank top too. Mingi was pouting hard and glaring at me at the same time, already sharp eyes turning sharper and full of revenge as he flushed his body against mine and cupped my ass over the fabric, gripping tightly and kneading the flesh.

“Mingi!” I exclaimed, content with being so close to him, but also annoyed that he kept going for my ass, “Leave my ass alone, you idiot!”

“You ruined my hair!”

“I told you to dye it black and not a different shade of blonde.”

“I thought you were a firm believer in people doing whatever they want.”

“I am, but you’re my boyfriend and I find you hotter with black hair.”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend and I find you hotter with my dick down your throat.”

We both paused as my eyes widened and Mingi caught himself a second later, cheeks flushing as he looked sheepish, finally releasing my ass as his hands settled around my hips instead, “Oopsie, that went too far but it’s the truth—”

He cried out as I whacked him over the head, giving him a fierce look, “Yeah? I also find you hotter gagged around my fingers—”

“We only did that once!”

“Are you afraid it makes you less masculine?”

“I agreed to let you peg me, bro.”

“I know, bro, and you fucking enjoyed it.”

“So, what’s the issue here?”

“That you keep slapping and kneading my ass, leave it alone.”

“Okay, princess, my bad.”

“You’re the princess, Mingi, not me. You’re always whining.”

“And you’re always beating me up, Y/N.”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, you are!”

I scowled at Mingi and pushed him back by the chest, by no means aggressively or harshly, but his dramatic ass pretended to stumble and then he fell back, splaying out across the canvas. I huffed and pinched the bridge off my nose as he made fake crying noises, blinking up at me slowly, “See? I’m huwt.”

I closed my eyes to compose myself and control the need to kick him in the balls for being cringy, “Don’t talk like that, oh, my God.”

“Do you hate it?” He grinned evilly as I walked off the canvas, and to look at me, he turned onto his stomach as he cupped his chin and raised his legs to swing them in the air. He looked like a mess with the paint all over his hair, face, and body, some having gotten onto his pants too now that he was laying on the canvas. I chuckled and shook my head as I eyed my boyfriend, knowing that I looked probably just as messy as him.

“I do, actually, you’re only cute when you’re not trying to be cute.” I deadpanned and Mingi huffed dramatically, letting his arms fall as he pressed his forehead against them. Eyes falling on his round ass, I knew it was my time for payback, and I moved swiftly before he could realize what I was aiming for—it wouldn’t be the first time—so I quickly kneeled next to him and leaned down, baring my teeth as I opened my mouth wide. At first, Mingi jumped when my teeth made contact with his jeans and then when I bit down hard, he yelped, soon turning into loud cries as I continued to bite his left ass cheek harder and harder. He started flailing around and I pulled back with a cackle after I made sure my teeth had sunken in deep enough. But, I had no time to react as he quickly turned around and leaped onto me, landing on top of me as I fell back onto the canvas, no doubt smudging even more whatever paint hadn’t dried yet.

Mingi got on top of me, sitting on my hips as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, pinning me to the floor. I smirked as I raised my eyebrows tauntingly at him, watching his eyes slowly rake over my body to take me in.

“That hurt.”

“Fair enough, it hurt too when you slapped my ass.”

“Well, you have no right to whine so much about it anymore.”

“I do if you keep slapping it, and I also have the right to bite your ass as revenge.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed and I giggled as he slowly leaned down, placing his hands on both sides of my head to prop himself up, effectively caging me between himself and the floor. I continued looking at him challengingly as he bit his bottom lip, eyes never settling as they searched my face for even a fraction that showed that I would back down. But I wouldn’t, and he knew that by now as he suddenly smirked too, leaning so close our lips brushed against each other.

“I think I won, doll.”

“I didn’t know we were in a contest, love.”

And then he sealed his lips against mine, shutting up the both of us in the most effective way as our lips moved slowly, savoring each other’s taste and lips. Mingi shifted above me and I eagerly opened my legs to let him settle between them as I hugged his torso, hands raking up and down his back slowly as his hips pressed firmly against mine. I smirked against Mingi’s lips when his breath hitched in the back of his throat due to my fingers tangling into his short strands now a little crusty from the red paint in it, it was no secret that Mingi liked it when I pulled on his hair. He cupped my chin with one hand as he pressed his weight on his left arm, the only cue I needed to open up my mouth to grant him access. We both sighed in contentment as his tongue slowly glided against mine, my legs coming up around his hips to lock Mingi’s body against mine.

Mingi moaned when I tangled my fingers just a little harder into his hair, letting him lap at my tongue as he explored my mouth, my body growing hotter as the seconds passed by, hands slipping under his loose tank top to feel up his warm skin. The skin of his back was smooth and I pressed my nails into it as I slowly racked it up his back, feeling Mingi shiver against my body as he jerked his hips forward, making me hum against his mouth as he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and clamped down on it, sucking hard. I groaned and dug my nails into his shoulders, pulling my head back to be able to lean up and press kisses against his lean neck, his cologne mixing with the paint that was smeared all over us. My lips were hot as I parted them to press wet kisses against his flesh, sucking in the areas I knew Mingi was sensitive to, making him groan and jerk his hips forward again. With a hand slipping down to his hips, I gripped him firmly and prompted him to grind against me, Mingi’s head buried in my hair as I continued to press kisses until I reached his collarbones, gripping the hem of his tank top. He wasted no second as he pulled back just slightly, slipping the fabric off his torso, leaving it bare for me as I grinned at him, feeling his chest and abs up as he worked at the clips of my overall.

I kissed the skin between his pectorals and then pressed up on my elbows as Mingi made quick work of slipping the overall down to my waist and ultimately out of them as goosebumps covered the bare skin of my legs. We threw the overalls off to the side and Mingi was then moving back, down between my legs as he hovered above my thighs, eyes boring into mine as he pressed a feather-like kiss against my left thigh. I gulped and fisted my palms as heat pooled in my lower stomach, his lips always featherlight as he advanced higher up on my thighs with nips and kisses, sometimes licking at the skin teasingly. I knew my cheeks were flushed as I felt hotter by the minute and I shuddered when his lips pressed against my core through the fabric of my panties, making the breath hitch in the back of my throat. Mingi smirked and did it once again before he licked a slow strip upward, closing his eyes to hum, and I let my fingers tangle in his hair as he tapped my inner thigh, moving away from where I wanted him most.

He sat back to undo the buttons and zipper of his jeans, and I watched in anticipation as he slipped the fabric off his thick thighs and ass slowly, in a teasing manner, bottom lip between his teeth as he was half hard already, eyes hooded once he was done with his half-assed striptease. I chuckled and he was all over me again, hips flushed against mine again as I wrapped my legs around his hips, eager to feel his heavy body press me down into the floor. Mingi’s fingers gingerly traveled from my waist up to the hem of my blouse and then he brought it over my head and arms, landing in the pile of clothes to the side. And then his lips were over mine again, licking into my mouth and biting my lip messily as he slowly ground his hips against mine, making me hold onto him as it was easy to feel him in just our underwear. One of my hands went to tease at the elastic of his boxers and, despite him talking shit about it, I knew he liked it when I kneaded his ass, the skin sensitive for him there.

Mingi moaned and ground just a little harder against me, making me burn for him more as he cupped one of my boobs through the bra, pinching the bud as our tongues moved messily without much purpose or goal, too focused on how our bodies felt with the ministrations done to it. As he pressed himself up on his elbow, the hand that grabbed my boob traveled lower on my body until it was inside my panties and rubbing circles against my clit, making me moan out his name loudly, his length grinding up against my thigh as he bit my collarbone, making me screw my eyes shut as I was throbbing for him. But he was a little shit and he only teased, rubbing but never quite letting his fingers slip inside as he chuckled against my ear, making me grit my teeth at him as I gripped his wrist to keep him pressing against my clit as my hips kicked off the floor.

“You’re wet, doll.”

“And you’re not doing enough, love.”

Mingi chuckled again and I moaned as he teasingly slipped just the tip of his finger inside, his rings cold against my burning skin, my nails digging into the flesh of his ass. Mingi groaned and pulled back, making me groan in frustration as I glared at him, but he quickly silenced me with his lips as I felt him pull down my panties, I shimmied my hips to help him get over with it faster. He grinned and nipped at my bottom lip as I pushed his boxers off too, grabbing his dick to teasingly rub at his slit, making him hiss against my lips as our eyes fluttered open.

“What? Only you can tease?” Mingi’s eyes were dark and narrowed as he bucked against my hand, my pace awfully slow in jerking him off, “I could tell you to get off me and I would go on with my merry day—”

“Sure,” Mingi grinned, lips ghosting against my ear as his voice had dropped lower than usual, grabbing my wrist to stop my movements, “but you love my dick too much to pass up on it.”

I scoffed but said nothing, perhaps a little too desperate to have it inside me finally. I hated it when he teased me too much, and because Mingi knew this, he never passed up on the opportunity to get on my nerves even when we were having sex. He enjoyed it perhaps a little bit too much. But the teasing was finally over as he had gotten enough of it, eager to push in as he lined himself up with my entrance, pressing a kiss against my lips.

“I don’t have a condom.” He whispered, eyes searching mine.

“Just pull out, I’m fine.” I circled his shoulders, embracing myself as my core throbbed, eager to have his size expand my walls. Mingi hummed and then pressed another kiss against my lips as he slowly pushed inside, having to take it slow as he didn’t stretch me out with his fingers first, the burn insistent despite our active sex life. I still haven’t gotten used to it, but I didn’t mind as it only made me wetter for him, more eager to take him. Mingi’s bottom lip was between his teeth as he kept his breath labored, concentrating on not hurting me and taking it slow until I said so. I let my fingers run through his hair as I sighed, trying to relax my muscles and just melt into his arms, pressing a kiss against his cheek when he paused abruptly, shuddering.

“You’re so tight,” His voice was barely above a whisper and strained, “I’m about to burst.”

“So soon?” I asked with a chuckle, teasing as it earned me a sharp glare, “And whose fault it is I’m so tight? Your fingers are there for a reason.”

“Shut up.” Mingi groaned and then pressed in fully, a gasp leaving my throat at the sudden move, eyebrows scrunching up as he pressed in deep, making me feel fuller than before. My walls clamped down against his dick and Mingi pressed his forehead against mine as I embraced him, letting my fingers tangle in the short hair against his nape. I nodded, eyes boring into each other, and then Mingi was moving, slowly at first, pulling out only halfway before he was pressing back in, sighs leaving my lips as the pleasure was slowly building up, my hips moving in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

He secured his knees better against the canvas and pressed up on his elbows, hovering over me as his cross necklace dangled in my face, and the image was way too good and hot, knocking a moan out of me as he started thrusting faster, hips slamming back against mine as our pace got faster and more urgent, our breathy moans falling against each other’s lips as I nipped on Mingi’s bottom lip. I hooked a finger against the silver chain as his nose scrunched up, hips slamming back against mine with more purpose, more power, and eagerness as he looked down between our bodies, a grunt leaving his lips as he enjoyed the view. I hooked my legs tighter around his hips and prompted him to move faster, most of my moans were swallowed as we had to remember that we were at university still, in my own studio, so we couldn’t be too vocal. The walls here weren’t soundproof like in Mingi’s studio, yet staying quiet proved to become harder and harder as Mingi started pistoning his hips, grunts turned into low moans as he slammed his lips against mine, our breaths getting swallowed as our teeth knocked together, saliva gathering in the corner of our mouths as I pressed my hands against the small of his back, my own arching off the floor for an even better angle, keening his name when he finally reached the spot that had me seeing stars.

But Mingi was a diligent man who took his time in everything he did, even sex, and if he could prolong our orgasms, then he certainly would, so I had no doubt we’d be at it for a while, subsequently making us late to Aurora’s opening. And we couldn’t have that happening, but our brains were too fogged up and busy with something else to notice Wooyoung’s insistent texts on Mingi’s phone or my mother’s call to remind me I had to be home in fifteen minutes to start getting ready. Oh, well.

            Turns out, we got there just in time and nobody screamed our ears off—I’m looking at you Wooyoung—and Seonghwa was certainly overwhelmed when he saw the number of people that showed up for the opening. It was a mix of all age groups and people who knew Seonghwa and Hongjoong from different places, like Hongjoong’s employees or Seonghwa’s colleagues from his major, and there were even more fans of Zenith Noir that showed up, surprising all three of the guys. Seulgi and I stood to the side with grins on our faces as their fans swarmed them and gushed about the beautiful designs Seonghwa had displayed, some put behind glass to protect the expensive material Hongjoong’s team had worked on, and some even put out to be tried on and bought if someone desired to do so.

Seonghwa’s speech had been an emotional one in which he thanked everyone for their support and Hongjoong for believing in him and offering him opportunities he thought were real only in a far-fetched dream, and then I got teary-eyed when Seonghwa’s family surprised him with cake and hugs and praises, making me extremely happy for being able to chase his dreams. The matching rings Hongjoong and he had on their ring finger were eye-catching to those who didn’t know about their engagement, and it was Hongjoong who proudly announced it to the whole room while Seonghwa flushed and tried not to hide behind Hongjoong despite being taller than his fiancé. It was a sight to behold and I wasn’t surprised to feel Mingi cuddle up into my side and sniff loudly as he watched his friends with a proud smile on his lips, Wooyoung amusingly quiet for once.

When everyone was done appreciating Seonghwa’s efforts and creations, he announced with a cheeky smile that the next time anyone visited, the front lobby would be decorated by other artists’ works, but because I had a special request, tonight my works were displayed in the room adjacent to this. I felt my heart in my throat as Seonghwa led us towards the dark room, then our eyes met and I nodded with a small smile, biting my bottom lip as the light switch was flipped on, coating the room in light. I turned to look at Mingi in anticipation as his eyes widened, and he broke free of the crowd, hurrying inside to take in the entirety of the room, from being incredulous to teary-eyed and then looking like the happiest man on Earth, I couldn’t help it but let my heart swell in happiness and pride as I watched him chuckle and look at me with eyes filled with pure and honest love.

The soft sage green walls were decorated with two portraits of Mingi I had sketched out right at the beginning when I had met him, when I wasn’t so familiar with all of his features yet. Then it progressed to the moments I had captivated as our relationship slowly progressed into that of friendship, us sitting in his car, Mingi driving, Mingi laughing at making me flustered, Mingi’s sharp eyes watching me in a faceless crowd, Mingi up on stage shining like the star he is, Mingi gazing at me with yearning in his eyes, Mingi hugging me warmly into his chest, Mingi chewing on his bottom lip in concentration as he sat in his chair in his studio, working on his music, Mingi looking upset because I rudely disregarded everything that’s happened between us, Mingi angry because I was too stubborn to admit my feelings for him, too afraid to move on from Yunho, and at last, Mingi smiling so widely his eyes disappeared, nose scrunched up and his front teeth showing a little more than usual, pure happiness painting his face.

There was a low murmur amongst the crowd as everyone took in the sketches, drawings, and paintings, but I was only focused on Mingi and his reaction to seeing the stages of our relationship displayed through my eyes, my feelings, and my thoughts. And then, more towards the end of the exposition, there was an old sketch of Yunho I had done while still mulling over the failure of our relationship, and right next to it was a painting of both Yunho and Mingi as they sat next to each other, laughing about whatever was funny at that moment. I had captured the moment when Mingi, me, Yunho, and his girlfriend had gone out for dinner, and then I decided I wanted to paint it twice and gift it to Mingi and Yunho for Christmas. I suppose Mingi would get his sooner than Yunho, I’m sure neither would mind.

Seonghwa announced that I was the artist behind the creations and the room erupted in cheers and claps as people complimented me on my talent, but my eyes were on Mingi only as his blazer was glittery underneath the white light, matching my floor-length glittery black dress. He opened his arms and I didn’t waste any more seconds to approach him and let him crush me in his arms, his embrace warm and reassuring as he pressed his face into my hair, exhaling loudly as I embraced him back just as tightly, closing my eyes as my heart was racing. These past three months I spent next to him had been the best time of my life ever, he made me happier and feel safer than anyone else ever. He helped me get better at controlling my explosive emotions and he helped me slowly break down the walls I so defensively built up after Yunho’s departure. He made me unafraid to love and to receive love, he made me want to spend the rest of my life with him.

I wanted a forever with him.

“I love you, Mingi.” And it was the first time I voiced those thoughts, voice clear but quiet so that only he’d hear it. I felt Mingi freeze, a gasp leaving his mouth as he pulled back, holding me at arm's length as I smiled at him softly, “I love you.”

Mingi gulped as his eyes suddenly turned teary, and he cupped my cheeks as he lowered his head to press his forehead against mine, inhaling deeply as he nodded his head. He’d said those three words to me before, unafraid and unashamed to let me know how he truly felt towards me, and I finally found the courage to say it back. I finally was ready to let him know just how much I felt for him, that I loved him just as much as he loved me.

“I love you, Y/N, so much.” His voice trembled and he kept his eyes closed out of fear of having the tears escape them, and I hummed, resting my hands on his shoulders as I gently rubbed the skin of his neck in an attempt to soothe him.

“I love you just as much, Mingi.”

And he smiled, pressing his warm lips against mine with the unspoken promise that this would last forever, that this was what we both had been searching for. Safety, contentment, honesty, friendship, and freedom, a love that was honest and unafraid. It seemed like our future was rather promising, next to him, I could take on anything. We won’t forget to look at the moon tonight.

I love you, Song Mingi.

A/N: So, hello once again, I am so-so grateful if you made it 'til the end. I cannot believe I'm actually finished with this story and it's a really bittersweet feeling actually, because I am as happy as sad, no joke I kinda cried a little bit. I absolutely love the character and personality I have created for Mingi in this story and I love MC and his dynamic so much, that I find it so freaking hard to let go of them omg, what's happening to me?!

I just really really want to thank everyone who stuck around from start to finish, or from the middle of the story, or showed up as we neared the end of it, I am so so grateful to you all for being patient with me and showering me with love and making me look forward to posting. I was always so excited about a new chapter because I wanted it to be the best, and when I felt like it wasn't, you reassured me that it was and it made me really happy.

I started this story nine months ago, back on the 15th of December, which is funnily enough my sister's birthday so now I will never forget the date I posted it lol, and I find it so freaking crazy that this whole story came from a random brainstorming with my best friend in my car (@orshii), right as we finished our classes at university, brains fried off and ready to end everything, and yet, here I am, trying not to cry again ffs because of how much I grew to love every character in the story.

A little insight: the story at first started out as a random plot that was somewhat similar to 10 Things I Hate About You (which is one of my favorite movies) as Mingi was inspired by Patrick's character and our MC by Kat's, but as time went on, the story and our characters became their own and thus this is how Love Me Like A Rockstar was created. Back at that time I was also obsessed with this song, which played a part in the story becoming a rockstar!au beside Mingi acting like a whole ass rockstar during Crazy Form era lol, and even the title is inspired by the censored version of the song.

I think I made this note already too long, so I'll try to wrap it up. I really want to thank absolutely everyone who reads the whole story, to my loyal readers who were here for every chapter and for all of your thoughts and theories and for making me smile, really. Those who stumbled upon this when it's already finished, I hope you enjoyed each chapter and had fun exploring the world I created (this applies to those too who stuck around while it was still on-going) and I always appreciate your feedback, it's never too late! Thank you everyone, and I hope to see you back for my other stories! <3

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[svearehnn]

black violets and baby's breath | modern!azriel x bridesmaid!reader

summary: feyre and rhys are finally getting married! the tension between you and azriel is palpable.

a/n: part two will be coming soon! once i get my essay done lmao. i hope you enjoy! (i didn’t edit this apologies)

Cobalt blue hugged your form in a silky sheen, falling just above your white ankle heels. You let out a shuttering breath as you smoothed the fabric down, fiddling with the sparkling jewelry that adorned your ears, wrists, and neck. 

You were nervous. Feyre was getting married, your best friend. It was so thrilling to be apart of her wedding party, but you couldn’t help the racing of your heart at the thought of being escorted down the aisle by none other than Azriel, your long term crush and childhood friend. You eyed yourself in the mirror. It was obvious that you looked stunning–cobalt was your color, and a polished look seemed to compliment your angelic fae-like features.

However, you couldn’t find it within yourself to step out of the room. You chuckled sardonically to yourself, fluffing your hair, reapplying your lip gloss, doing anything to delay your inevitable exit. You weren’t even the bride, yet it felt as though you had pre-wedding jitters.

A knock sounded on the door, and you closed your eyes. One deep breath in, out through your mouth, and you opened the oak door. Mor stood on the other side, her brown eyes dazzling.

“You ready?” She squealed, excitement palpable in her buzzing form. You nodded hesitantly and took her hand. She squeezed it, a comforting gesture that helped soothe your rampant nerves.

“It’ll be okay. Az is going to think you’re beautiful. I mean, he always does, but goddamn do you look like a goddess right now.” That forced a giggle from your throat, prompting a smile to form on Mor’s striking features.

“There’s that gorgeous smile! Now come on.” Your blonde friend dragged you down the stairs, causing you to stumble in your heels. Once you got to the wooden staircase, you descended hand in hand. Nerves encased your soul, bees buzzing and stinging in your stomach. 

Yet, once you rounded the curve of the stairs and your eyes locked on Azriel’s hazel ones, all the nerves seemed to fade away. His eyes widened, brows raising, lips turning upward in an imperceptible smile that only you could catch. You bowed your head, cheeks aflame as you continued your decline. 

Mor had disappeared, arms wrapped around Emerie, leaving you alone with the railing gripped between bone white fingertips. Azriel outstretched his hand and you took it gingerly, letting him guide you down the last few steps and onto the natural wooden floors of Feyre and Rhys’ River House.

The two of you stood like that for a moment, no words exchanged, just drinking each other in. Azriel wore a black tux, a cobalt tie adorning his neck, accentuating the tattoos that peeked through the black collar of his shirt. His ears held their signature silver hoops and secondary studs, his fingers adorned with bands of silver and stone. He had slicked back his dark hair and it looked nice, yet all you wanted to do was muss it up to its usual messy demeanor.

Azriel spoke first, licking his lips and smacking them before he spoke. “You look…wow. Just phenomenal, Little Star.” He hummed, appreciation coating his tone. He raised your hand, twirling you around in a slow circle, eyeing the slit that went up to your hip and the low V that showed off your collarbones. The blush that filled your features warmed your skin to a feverish glow from his compliments.

“You look wonderful yourself, Azriel.” You murmured, looking him up and down slowly, drinking in every aspect, every detail of the godly male in front of you. He smirked, biceps flexing ever so slightly beneath the fabric of his tux. He held out the crook of his arm as the music began to filter in through the hallway, signaling the start of the ceremony.

“Are you ready, my beautiful bridesmaid?” You accepted his arm gratefully, unusually quiet within this newfound adoration that he was throwing at you.

“Lead the way, my handsome groomsman.” You replied, swallowing thickly. His arm was rock hard beneath your touch, an obvious indication of his and Cassian’s daily gym ventures.

The two of you walked arm in arm to the french doors that lead to the backyard wedding that Feyre and the rest of the wedding party had set up beautifully.

Cassian and Nesta led the line, the oldest Archeron dressed in a stunning dark red dress that matched Cassian’s tie. Then came Elain and Lucian in sparkling gold akin to the setting sun. Mor and Emerie followed, adorned in midnight purple. Behind them trailed Amren and Varian in their signature North Sea blue.

At the strike of the piano, Azriel gave you a small smile and stepped forward, leading you through the glass doors. The sun was blinding, but even through your squinted eyes you could see the flower arch at the alter filled with calla lilies and black violets, baby’s breath dotted in between. You and Azriel floated on a walkway of white peony petals, eyes hardly leaving each other’s, unable to stop drinking each other in.

It was as if a tension had electrified the air between the two of you the second he had set his sights on you when you meandered down the staircase. Your heart was a doldrum in your chest, begging to break through your ribs, taut and strained. As if Azriel could sense your trepidation, he squeezed your arm in a comforting touch.

He leaned down, breath against your ear, the smell of cedar encompassing your senses. “Breathe, Little Star.” You did as told, lungs expanding, nerves unfolding into the atmosphere and disappearing on the wind. Azriel’s thumb traced patterns into the skin of your forearm, soothing you further.

Your eyes left his, landing on Rhys at the altar. His eyes were alight, a slight smirk on his lips. He glanced between you and Azriel with a raised brow. A blush rose on your cheeks. His smirk widened, shoulders peacocking as though he knew he was right. Which, he usually was, you thought. You wouldn’t dwell on it–at least, not now. It was Feyre’s day, not yours.

The song came to an end as you and Azriel reached the dais, parting to reach your respected positions with you on the left and him on the right. As you turned, he grabbed your hand, extending your arm and bringing it up to press a kiss to the soft skin. Without another word he turned, leaving you stunned. Mor had to pull you to her side, her excitement palpable.

“Oh my gods!” She exclaimed, but you hardly heard her as the music started back up and the doors opened. Feyre stepped out, her black dress sparkling in the sun. Sheer fabric covered her arms and her her chest, flowing down into an intrinsic pattern of swirls similar to that of hers and Rhys’ tattoos. It was skin tight down to her knees, the skirt billowing out below, covering her black heels. She looked exquisite. It was impossible for you to take your eyes off of her, and if you were able to look around, you would notice that it was the same for everyone else.

When she reached the altar, Rhys took her hands, helping her up the marble steps with tears lining his waterline. They lined yours, as well.

Gwyn stood behind the couple, hands clasped in front of her, a smile etched onto her face. Words flowed out of her lips, Feyre and Rhys repeating every syllable as salty water flowed freely down their cheeks until the final I do.

Rhys dipped his wife in a passionate kiss, oblivious to the ovation happening around them from their closest friends. When they rose, Feyre raised her bouquet in the air, pride hanging heavy around her, a glow emanating from her skin.

Everyone rose in unison as if in prayer.

“To the new Mrs. and Mr. Carynthian!” Mor called out next to you, her voice carrying through the garden. Voices echoed after her, singing reverants to the newlyweds. As she walked back down the aisle, hand in hand with Rhys, bouquet in hand, everyone cheered as they passed. They congregated behind them, tears flowing, applause echoing through the space as if it were an ancient cathedral. 

Feyre stopped before she entered the house. She turned towards everyone, a grin plastered on her lips, a wink highlighting her stormy eyes. She threw her bouquet high up in the air. Hands reached up toward the Mother, itching to be the one to catch the bundle of violets. 

They fell gingerly into your waiting palms as if there was some kind of divine interference. You blinked slowly, locking eyes with Feyre. They sparked with mischief before her and Rhys disappeared behind the French doors. 

Your heart pulled taut again as you fiddled with the black petals, their touch akin to a feather within your fingertips. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the shadow towering over you until a hand landed on your chin, tilting your head so your eyes met Azriel’s. 

“How was that for a ceremony?” He asked, breathless, eyes wide, pupils dilated. You swallowed, chest fluttering.

“It was beautiful.” Your voice came out within less than a whisper. He smiled, one only reserved for you, as he tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. His hand stayed there for a moment before pulling back, as if he were debating about running his fingers along the length of your cheek.

“You caught the bouquet, too.” You glanced down at the flowers in question, their fragrant smell filtering through your lungs every time you inhaled. 

“I did. I don’t know why the universe gave it to me though, I’m not even close to getting married.” The words fell out of your mouth haphazardly before you could stop them. Azriel chuckled, hands shoved into his pockets, tensing within the linen slacks.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” Heat rose from your neck to your cheeks. You hadn’t, honestly. The only person you could dream of marrying was him, yet you knew that was far fetched. Even with the energy buzzing around the two of you, the idea would fade within a week. It was just the presence of a wedding, you thought. Nothing would change. Azriel’s hazel eyes were intense, gazing directly into your soul for what seemed like eternity until Mor bumped your arm.

“Come on! We have to get ready for the reception.” You smiled at him as Mor dragged you away by the arm, your eyes never leaving his even as you disappeared behind the same doors that Feyre did. As you and your blonde friend climbed the same steps you had descended only an hour ago, the thought of marrying Azriel swirled through your mind like a tornado, wreaking havoc on any other thought that was there. Maybe it was possible. Maybe Azriel was interested in you. Only time would tell, and maybe, at the reception, the tension between the two of you would lift and reveal the secrets that were hidden beneath hardened hearts.

tags: @kayjaywrites

[coolprettyleo]

so american - juraj slafkovsky ☆

wc: 1.8k

tw: mentions of sex. fluff? kinda mentions and ED. lmk if there's more!

juraj slafkovsky x reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

being nineteen living in new york city is a scary thing for any teenager. if you could even still call yourself that, but you got by.

instead of going the route that most of your friends did, attending the university of michigan, joining a sorority, and marrying a retired frat guy; you did the complete opposite.

you skipped college and moved to nyc to be a model. it had been going very well for you, seeing as your face was all over times square and you began to become the newest it girl, and you thankfully made enough to pay for your high rise apartment and live a luxaric life that you've always dreamed about.

so why on earth would you be standing in montreal on a tuesday night?

your boyfriend would be the cause of that. he lived in montreal and a love began to grow for the city seeing as its the place you've fallen in love with him.

is it too soon to say that? im sorry, but it's no doubt love; the feelings you've felt.

he was the most perfect boyfriend, treating you like a princess and you couldn't be happier.

you were currently standing at the airport searching for his tall frame. being a long distance couple is not easy but you two made it work. seeing as during the season he's basically glued to montreal, it was up to you to come and see him in the beautiful city, which is why you were here now.

"im outside gate forty six" his thick accent came through the phone. his accent was something that could turn your face red, in a millisecond.

"no your not. im standing directly under it" you said searching for him.

"turn around" you heard his voice come from behind you.

and behold and beyond there stood your boyfriend, standing there in all his glory smiling ear to ear and your excitement to see him, flooded in.

you squealed so loud and dropped your bag to run up to him and hug him. one thing you liked about juraj was his height and the fact you were still able to be shorter than him being 5'11 and all.

"how was your flight" he said giving you a sweet kiss, before picking up your bags and still managing to hold your hand through the crowd of people.

"it was okay, im a little jet lagged though" you said as you saw his car.

"have you eaten yet?, I made us dinner at home" he said opening your door for you.

he knew you hadn't been eating. you had been so wrapped up in growing your name, this was the first break you had in months and juraj was quick to see that. he really worried for you and you've never had someone other than your parents care like that. if he kept up with all this shit, you were going to marry him.

"no, im sorry" you said looking down, as you got in. you felt bad how much he spent worrying for you and you still not eating anything past nine thirty pm was not going to eaze his worries.

"dont apoligize, i got you know" your heart beated at his words.

"I literally love you juraj slafkovsky" you said as he got into the drivers side.

"you literally?" he teased.

"stop it!' you said smiling. you knew already what he was about to tease you about.

"you are so american pretty"

"HOW?!?"

-----

you and juraj were at a bar with his teammates and you were feeling tipsy early on to the night. he was wearing a fit that had you in shambles. god he looked handsome. you were sitting on his lap leaning your face into the crook of his neck.

"Y/N!!!" you heard cole yell over the loud music. you lifted your head from jurajs soft neck to see his teammate, happy to see you in montreal.

"hi cole" you giggled at his excitement.

"sing 22 with me. I just put it into the karaoke machine."

"oh my gosh! yes!!" you said standing up from juraj. right away realizing you were way to drunk to stand, and losing balance.

"woah," juraj said grabbing a hold of your hips and helping you stand straight.

"okay, i think its time to head home" he says smiling at her, holding her up.

"but cole-"

"but she-

"we'll see you tomorrow cole" juraj said cutting both cole and his girlfriend off.

"okay then" cole said looking like a kicked puppy and waving goodbye to you.

"what are you trying to take me home so fast for? hmm" you said to your boyfriend seductively grabbing the collar of his shirt.

"to get you in bed pretty" he said walking you out. you blushed right away thinking the other thing and loved how forward he was being right now even though he meant far from that.

___

you guys arrive to jurajs apartment and all you wanted was your boyfriend.

he opened the door and you didnt waste time to attach your lips to his and push him against the door. his hands still on holding your hips from walking you in, squeezed your sides as he pulled away.

"what are you doing baby" he said giggling at your forwardness.

"I want you. now." you said to him attaching your lips to his sweet spot on his neck.

you knew his weaknesses and even though it hurt him to push you away, you were drunk.

"we cant pretty, your drunk"

"no im not" you said as he guided you to his room.

"yes you are. come on lets get these cloths off"

"sex time?" you said, face lighting up taking off your top.

"no. sleep time" he said helping you pull your boots off.

you groaned and threw yourself starfish back onto his bed.

"come here" he said pulling you up and putting his hoodie over your frame. he put some boxers on you and reached into his drawer for you that had some makeup wipes as you starred at him.

"im sobering up" you said to him as he wiped your makeup off.

"y/n" he said pointly.

you rolled your eyes as you laid back onto the bed watching him begin to change.

"you look pretty in my cloths" he said smiling at how big his hoodie fit you.

"you think I look pretty in everything" you said rolling your eyes at your boyfriends cheesiness.

"so, you are pretty" he said pulling the covers over the both of you and wrapping his arm around you as you cuddled into him.

you traced a finger over his features, seeing as it always helped him fall asleep.

"your pretty" you whispered to him, giggling.

"im pretty?" he said lightly smiling, eyes still close.

"mhm" you said to him.

"goodnight baby. I love you" he said after a while.

"I love you. goodnight" you answered feeling, restless. how were you supposed to sleep when he's with you? and you loved sleeping. you sucked it up, and decided to make sure to be completely sober for tomorrow.

____

you were currently hitting the hottest nyc bars with your best friends, after being dragged out against your will by them and you just wanted to be home in bed. you couldn't believe you used to love going out.

"come on y/n!" your friend yelled over the loud music pulling you along.

you were miserable.

you sat on the booth, when a guy came up to sit next to you.

"hey, im Logan" the man said to you, probably hoping to go home with you tonight.

"y/n" you said uninterested looking around hoping to find somewhere to go off too.

"you like-" he was cutoff by the next song and you couldn't help but think about juraj.

"my boyfriend likes this song!" you said to the guy.

"you have a boyfriend?" he said standing up.

"yeah, it was nice meeting you" you said walking away.

you saw your friend with her newest eye candy and you walked up to them.

"y/n! this is... omg I already forgot. but he said he plays hockey!"

"uhm no, I said I liked it"

"its okay. I know your secret" she said whispering and pushing herself right after.

"what's your favorite team?" you said hoping the conversation would bring up juraj. its like you couldn't go a conversation without talking about him.

"the maple leafs"

you cringed.

"my boyfriend hates that team"

"he a montreal fan or what"' the guy said with his arm still around your best friend.

"no hes a playe-"

"are you talking about juraj again!?!" a voice comes from behind you.

"what do you mean again. I don't talk about him THAT much."

your friends shared a look before they both let out,

"yes you do"

____

you were currently at a photoshoot for the cover of times magazine when you got a FaceTime call coming from your boyfriend.

"hi" you said answering.'

"hello, how is the shoot going"

"really good! we're doing the last outfit, and im so happy because im spent" you said exhaustedly.

"dont tire yourself too much" he said seeing her eye bags hiding under the makeup she was wearing.

"I won't, anyways what happened?" you knew he wanted to ask you something because he knew not to interrupt your shoot time.

"my mom wants to know if you would join us for christmas, and im looking at tickets rights now, did you want to join us?" he said with a hopeful look.

you wanted to squeal. he was taking you home to his native land, and for some reason that felt so sacred to you. doesn't this man know that you would go anywhere he goes?

"that sounds like fun, I'd think l'd enjoy that" you said smiling at him. he let out what seemed to be a breath he'd been holding.

"okay, love. im booking our flights right now then. thank you for doing this"

"thank you for inviting me"

"oh! that means you have to spend thanksgiving with my family!" you added.

"okay. is that actually something you guys celebrate?" juraj asked. he thought the holiday was something he saw in movies seeing as they didnt celebrate the holiday, from where he was from .

"obviously! its only the best holiday!!!"

"yeah? what's your favorite thing about it?"

"well I like the food, obviously. I like spending time with everyone and watching the parade in nyc- oh! and the football game is always so much fun to watch, omg! and we have to put on the game for christmas at your families" you said to him.

"that seems..." he said trailing off, smiling at your excitement.

"spit it out slaf" you said, knowing he was about to make fun of you. he hesitated because he didnt know if he wanted to keep teasing you over this.

"so american"

___

hi guys! im sorry about the inactivity. I've had so much work and school work but, I will be writing more though, because im currently in the hospital, getting treated for a spider bite... so ill have ALOT of time. send in au thoughts lol.

[minhosbitterriver]

─── ⋆⋅☆ STEADY LOVE ( xdinary heroes )

❛ A collection of heartfelt stories where love finds its strength in gentle understanding, as partners navigate the world together with unwavering support and care for each other's unique needs.

𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 29 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so self-indulgent to write, so a very big thank you to my lovely 🍀 Anon for this request! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has AuDHD in each member's piece, mentions of bees as a special interest, descriptions of being burned out and struggling with change, some very slight ableism mentioned (not from any of the members), descriptions of overstimulation, mentions of stimming, terrible flirting, overall this is very much hurt + comfort, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

구건일 ── GOO GUNIL.

The day felt like it had conspired against Gunil, stretching itself out into an agonizing eternity, as if determined to sap every last bit of energy from him. Each second dragged on, the clock's hands moving at a snail's pace, mirroring the heaviness in his limbs. Finally, after what seemed like an endless rehearsal, an exhausted sigh escaped his lips, the sound barely noticeable amidst the hum of tired voices from his bandmates. With a practiced, almost mechanical motion, Gunil returned his well-worn drumsticks to their designated holder, a small nook on the wall that had become as familiar to him as his own reflection. The drumsticks settled into place with a soft click, the only sound in the practice room that had served as their second home. 

As his bandmates began to shuffle out, their movements sluggish, weighed down by the day’s efforts, Gunil barely registered the chorus of goodbyes. Jungsu’s voice cut through the haze, a final “see you tomorrow” accompanied by a wave before disappearing into the hallway. Gunil mustered a lazy half-smile, lifting his hand in a farewell that felt more like a reflex than a conscious action. The room, once alive with the pulse of their music, now felt eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the fatigue settling deep into his bones. He reached for his backpack, its weight pulling down on his tired shoulders, just as the sharp ring of his phone shattered the stillness.

The sudden sound jolted him, but when he saw your name on the screen, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, chasing away the exhaustion, even if just a little. “I’m done rehearsing, love, I’ll be—” Gunil’s greeting was cut short by the unmistakable sound of your excited squeal. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart swelling with affection at the image of you practically vibrating with energy on the other end of the line.

“Goo, you have to come home as soon as you can!” Your voice was bright, almost bursting with excitement, and Gunil could easily imagine you doing your little wiggles of joy, the ones that always made his heart melt. 

“Yes, baby,” he replied, his tone gentle, hiding the weariness in his bones so as not to dampen your spirits. “I’ll be home in no time. What’s got you so excited?” 

As he turned off the lights in the now-quiet practice room, the faint clicking of your keyboard reached his ears. He pictured you perched at your desk, your laptop open before you, eyes wide with curiosity. The image made him smile. 

“I found this new video, and Goo, it is so cool! It's a swarm of Japanese honeybees defending their nest by slapping ants with their wings, but this one is honestly so fascinating because apparently, this colony got infected by the Varroa Destructor Mite — but they were still so aggressive against the ants and they won! Isn't that so cool? Oh, Goo, please hurry, you have to watch it!” 

Your words tumbled out in a rush, barely pausing for breath, your excitement making the details spill over each other in a joyous cascade. Gunil found himself chuckling softly, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to your passionate rambling. There was something so endearing about the way you got lost in your own world, especially when it came to bees. He could listen to you talk for hours, your voice animated and full of life, a stark contrast to the weariness that had settled over him.

He thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you had nervously explained your autism to him, worried that it might be too much, too different. But to Gunil, it was simply another beautiful facet of who you were, something that made him love you even more deeply. “That does sound very interesting, my love,” he said, trying to match your energy despite the exhaustion tugging at him. “I really can’t wait to watch it!”

The promise of coming home to you, to your bright, infectious enthusiasm, gave him the strength to push through the final stretch of his journey. “I’ll be home in about ten minutes, so hang tight,” he added, a smile in his voice as he ended the call. As he neared the apartment you shared, the sight of a family-owned flower shop caught his eye. 

Even through the fatigue, his gaze lingered on the blooms in the window, your favorite flowers standing out like a beacon. The thought of surprising you with them, especially when you were already so happy, sent a thrill through him. Without hesitation, he ducked into the shop, the sweet scent of fresh flowers wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. He selected a bouquet with care, imagining the way your eyes would light up when he walked through the door with them in hand.

The weight of the day began to lift as he paid for the flowers, the simple act of thinking about you bringing a renewed sense of energy. The thrill of coming home to you, your voice still echoing in his mind, made each step lighter. As he walked out of the shop, the bouquet cradled carefully in his arms, he felt the anticipation build, knowing that soon, he would be by your side, sharing in the simple, beautiful joy of being together.

김정수 ── KIM JUNGSU.

The corners of Jungsu’s lips tightened into a worried frown as he gently rapped on the door of your shared bedroom. Not waiting for an invitation, he nudged the door open just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him was one of persistent discomfort. There you were, lying on your side of the bed, your expression etched with visible distress. Your laptop, casting a soft glow in the dim room, played the familiar episodes of your favorite show—one you had practically memorized through countless viewings meant to soothe your troubled emotions.

Jungsu let out a soft sigh, his concern growing with each passing moment. He stepped into the room, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps as he moved towards your side of the bed. Perching himself on the edge, he settled into the space beside you, his presence both reassuring and tender. You kept your gaze fixed on the screen, as though it were the only refuge from the turmoil roiling within.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and unshared burdens. After a few moments, you finally turned your head to meet his gaze, a weary sigh escaping your lips. Jungsu’s heart ached at the sight of your frustration and weariness. “I ordered takeout,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to shatter the fragile calm. “It’s your favorite.”

He noticed the fleeting flicker of interest in your eyes, a brief spark that was quickly extinguished as you turned back to the screen with a frown. “I don’t want to eat right now,” you murmured, your tone resolute and final, leaving no room for negotiation. The firmness of your refusal stung, and Jungsu could only nod in resignation. He sighed once more, his shoulders slumping slightly as he retreated from the room, leaving you to your solitude.

For nearly a week now, this had been your reality—an ongoing struggle that Jungsu could only partially grasp. Despite the year you had been together, he had never seen you like this before. He understood that adapting to sudden changes was particularly challenging for you, especially when they disrupted the routines that provided a semblance of stability. The day you had called him from work, sobbing uncontrollably while locked in the bathroom, was seared into his memory. You had told him about your old manager’s abrupt departure and the arrival of a new, unfamiliar face. The sudden shift was more than you could handle, especially when your new manager refused to accommodate the adjustments necessary to make your work environment bearable.

As the days went on, the pressure became insurmountable. Each day, you returned home to face the aftermath of panic attacks you had kept at bay and to collapse into bed, seeking solace in the comfort of a show that could no longer ease the heaviness you carried. The joy and relief it once brought you were now overshadowed by a pervasive numbness, a stark reminder of the emotional toll that had become all too familiar.

Jungsu’s heart ached with the weight of your struggle, and though he sympathized deeply with your plight, it did little to quell his worry. He remained steadfast in his resolve to support you through this storm, even as he grappled with the helplessness of seeing you so diminished. Each day, he hoped for a glimmer of recovery, a sign that the storm within you might begin to abate. But for now, he could only offer his silent presence and unwavering support, waiting for the day when you would once again find your way back to the light.

Jungsu was grappling with uncertainty about how to pull you from the depths of your distress, but a sudden spark of inspiration ignited within him as his gaze fell upon the television in the living room. Resolute to offer you a sliver of comfort, he began a frenzied quest to transform your shared space into a sanctuary of solace. For the next half hour, he darted around the apartment, arms laden with an assortment of blankets, comforters, and pillows—each one a small testament to his unwavering determination.

With every trip in and out of the bedroom, his expression was a mixture of earnest concentration and quiet determination. You watched with a blend of curiosity and amusement as he repeatedly entered the room, his movements a flurry of purposeful activity. At one point, he even attempted to gather your collection of stuffed animals, struggling under the weight of their collective softness as he staggered out, his focus unbroken by your gaze.

The sounds of his labor—the shuffling of furniture, the occasional grunt of exertion—filled the space, drawing your attention away from the show you had paused. You listened intently, your curiosity piqued by the rhythmic clamor of activity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of bustling, Jungsu reappeared in the doorway of your bedroom, his face illuminated with a blend of triumph and excitement. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the soft light of the nightstand lamp as he panted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Baby,” he called out, his voice breathless but laced with an infectious enthusiasm. His hands rested on his hips, a gesture of pride and anticipation. “Can you please come out? I made something for you, and I think you’re really going to like it!”

Despite the storm of emotions swirling within you, the sight of Jungsu’s eager, childlike gleam in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Intrigued and touched by his effort, you pushed yourself up from the bed, the pull of his unwavering support more compelling than the urge to remain cocooned in your sanctuary. He extended a hand towards you, which you accepted with a grateful smile, allowing him to guide you toward the living room.

The transformation that greeted your eyes as you entered the living room took your breath away. The coffee table, once a fixture in the center of the room, had been pushed to the far wall. In its place stood a grand fortress, a whimsical creation of mismatched blankets and comforters meticulously draped and layered into a cozy haven. Strings of Christmas lights peeked through the folds, their gentle glow casting a warm, ethereal light that danced across the room. The television, positioned just in front of the fortress’s entrance, was primed to play your favorite show, a comforting familiarity in its soft glow.

As you inhaled deeply, the fragrant aroma of your favorite meal wafted towards you, a final touch to the heartwarming scene. Overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude, tears threatened to spill as you turned to embrace Jungsu. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, your body shaking slightly with the emotion you struggled to contain.

Jungsu chuckled softly, his arms enveloping you in a hug that was both firm and reassuring—just the way you liked it. “Is this okay?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled back to look at him. The tears in your eyes glistened with a profound appreciation as you nodded vigorously, your voice wavering with emotion. “This is perfect, Jun,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly. “It looks exactly like how my grandmother used to do it when I was upset as a child.”

Jungsu’s smile widened, his satisfaction evident in the warmth that radiated from him. As you turned and practically bounded towards the fortress, a trail of contented giggles followed in your wake, each sound a balm to his worried heart. The sight of your joy, so vividly reflected in your laughter, made his heart flutter with a tender affection that seemed to encompass the entire room.

곽지석 ── KWAK JISEOK.

The outdoor market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, alive with the energy of families and couples weaving through stalls brimming with fresh produce and handcrafted jewelry. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, flowers, and street food, a cacophony of sensory delights that usually set your heart racing with excitement. But today, the thrumming pulse of the market felt more like a storm brewing on the horizon. 

You had been standing in front of a stall, fingers lightly tracing the delicate patterns of handmade trinkets when a sudden influx of noisy tourists swarmed around you. The once-open space now felt suffocating as their loud voices clashed against one another, creating a wall of sound that made it impossible to think clearly. The proximity of strangers pressed too close, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. You glanced around, searching desperately for Jiseok, who had been right beside you only moments ago, but the crowd swallowed him up, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable.

As your anxiety began to claw its way to the surface, your body responded in familiar, desperate ways. Your fingers found their way to your hair, twisting and pulling at the strands as if they might tether you to something solid. Your leg bounced uncontrollably, tapping out an erratic rhythm on the cobblestones beneath you. The sharp sting of your nails digging into your palms became the only thing anchoring you, yet it also edged you closer to a breaking point that felt terrifyingly near.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, Jiseok emerged from the crowd, his eyes immediately locking onto you with a mix of relief and concern. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could see it in the way your body had tensed, in the rapid, shallow breaths you struggled to control. Without a word, he reached out, gently but firmly taking your hands in his, halting the destructive cycle of pulling at your hair and digging into your skin. He interlaced your fingers with his, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit," Jiseok's voice broke through the chaos, a soothing melody that cut through the overwhelming noise around you. He didn’t wait for a response; instead, he drew you close, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear was a familiar comfort, a lifeline in the middle of the storm.

Guiding you through the press of bodies, Jiseok kept you close, his arms a protective barrier against the world that had become too much to bear. His grip tightened slightly, applying the firm pressure that always seemed to calm your racing thoughts. "Look, we can go there for a little bit," he murmured, nodding towards a small park that sat like a hidden gem amidst the market’s frenzy. The greenery promised a respite, a quiet place to breathe again.

But it wasn’t the park that brought you solace—it was Jiseok himself. The vibration of his voice against your back as he spoke, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his embrace all worked together to gently pull you out of the whirlpool of anxiety that threatened to drag you under. As he continued to speak, his words becoming a soft, mindless ramble meant only to distract, you could feel the storm inside you begin to subside. Your heartbeat, once wild and erratic, slowly began to sync with his, finding a steadier, calmer pace.

As Jiseok gently guided you through the bustling market, his hand remained a steady presence on your shoulder. Every so often, he would give a gentle squeeze, three soft pulses of reassurance—a silent code you both had established for moments like these, where words seemed to dissolve into the fog of your anxiety. It was his quiet way of asking, "Are you okay?" The simple gesture, familiar and comforting, anchored you amidst the swirling chaos. 

In response, you reached up to grasp his forearm, fingers curling around his warmth as you squeezed twice, signaling back, "I'm better." The exchange was small, but it spoke volumes—a tender conversation held in silence, where no words were necessary, just the understanding between two souls who had learned to navigate these storms together.

The noise of the market gradually faded into the background as Jiseok led you to the park. Here, the world softened, with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of others who had also sought sanctuary from the market's overwhelming energy. The park felt like a refuge, a place where the intensity of the outside world couldn't quite reach you. Jiseok spotted a secluded bench beneath the shade of a large, ancient tree, its branches stretching out like a protective canopy. The dappled sunlight danced through the leaves, casting a soothing pattern on the ground, and the bench offered a quiet place to rest, away from prying eyes and the relentless pace of the market.

Once seated, Jiseok remained close, his presence a calming force beside you. Your breath, which had been shallow and quick, began to slow as you settled into the quiet of the park. Jiseok's fingers found their way to your hair, gently playing with the strands in a tender contrast to the earlier harsh tugging you had subjected them to. The soft rhythm of his touch was a balm, easing the lingering tension in your body. His other hand rested on your thigh, grounding you with its comforting weight.

He spoke in a low, soothing tone, his words a gentle caress to your frayed nerves. "We can leave whenever you're ready," he suggested, his gaze drifting out to the serene view of the park, "Maybe we can grab some food and cuddle at the dorm. I'm sure the members won’t mind. I’ll kick Seungmin out of our room if I have to; he’ll just have to suck it up."

As the tension within you began to melt away, you found yourself repeating the last few words of his sentence—a familiar and comforting habit, a happy stim that signaled your return to a place of calm. "...have to suck it up," you echoed, your voice lighter now, carrying the trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Jiseok chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort. He squeezed your hand gently, checking to ensure your nails were no longer digging into your palm. "That's my favorite sound," he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he grinned at you, his love evident in the gentle curve of his smile.

This shared moment of lightness, of humor, further dispelled the remnants of your anxiety. In his presence, you were reminded that you didn’t have to face these moments alone—that even in your most vulnerable states, Jiseok was there, offering his unwavering support and love. The park, with its serene beauty and the quiet strength of your bond, became a haven where you could breathe again, surrounded by the safety of his embrace.

오승민 ── OH SEUNGMIN.

JYP Entertainment hosted an exclusive and lavish party at a luxury hotel, where the atmosphere blended the grandeur of celebration with the intimacy of a private gathering. Unlike the typical public events, this one was strictly by invitation, creating a sanctuary for idols to bring their partners, friends, and families without the constant pressure of cameras. The setting was resplendent, with elegant decor that reflected the significance of the occasion.

The entertainment options catered to a variety of tastes. In one corner, a live band played soft jazz, filling the room with soothing melodies. Nearby, a DJ spun upbeat tracks, enticing those who wanted to dance. For the more playful guests, a karaoke setup allowed for uninhibited fun, and a photobooth adorned with glittering lights stood ready to capture the night’s memories. A gourmet buffet stretched along one side of the room, offering an array of international cuisines, the rich aromas mingling with the laughter and chatter that filled the air.

Despite the festive atmosphere, the constant flashing of lights and the relentless pulse of the music began to overwhelm you. This was your first time attending an event of this magnitude, and though you had agreed to come because of the way Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of sharing this moment with you, the environment soon proved too much. Even as you admired him, his figure so striking in the finely tailored suit that accentuated his lean, muscular build, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the grand room was closing in on you. Your hands trembled despite your best efforts to maintain composure, and a cold sweat began to form along your hairline.

You stole a glance at Seungmin, who stood a short distance away, his face illuminated with genuine joy as he engaged in animated conversation with his bandmates and senior idols from the company. They were discussing the future direction of their music, reminiscing about their journey since debuting, and Seungmin’s laughter rang out, a clear sign that he was fully immersed in the moment. For a brief second, you hoped that his distraction would allow you to slip away unnoticed, just for a moment, to calm the rising tide of anxiety within you.

The party, though well-intentioned, was far beyond your comfort zone, and the sensory overload was beginning to take its toll. You needed to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on you. But as you discreetly made your way to the bathroom, seeking refuge from the overwhelming stimuli, Seungmin caught sight of your retreating figure. 

Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin had anticipated the possibility of you feeling overwhelmed in such a busy atmosphere. Understanding how easily you could be overstimulated, he had made sure to pack your well-loved noise-canceling headphones in the expensive messenger bag his stylist had provided. As soon as he saw you slipping away, his concern for you took precedence over the conversation, and he politely excused himself, following you to the bathroom.

Upon entering the lavish bathroom, Seungmin offered a polite bow and murmured apologies to the few occupants before your shallow breathing caught his attention. He quickly moved to stand outside the stall where you had taken refuge. 

"Love? It's me," he called softly, his voice gentle and soothing, careful not to startle you in your vulnerable state. Inside the stall, your hands clenched in a futile attempt to stop their violent trembling as you struggled to steady your breathing. 

Seungmin reached over the door, his hand holding the familiar headphones — a lifeline in the storm of your frenzied thoughts. "I thought you might need this," he murmured. 

You reached up and snatched the headphones, the urgency in your movements reflecting the desperation you felt. As you placed them over your ears, the chaotic world outside was mercifully muted. The overwhelming cacophony faded, replaced by the comforting silence you had so desperately needed. Finally, you could breathe again, the noise-canceling barrier providing a sanctuary where you could begin to reclaim your peace.

You were immensely grateful for Seungmin’s patience, relishing the brief respite as you took a few moments to catch your breath. The bustling noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, creating a cocoon of calm around you. Just as you began to steady yourself, your phone vibrated in your hand — a text from Seungmin, despite him standing right outside the bathroom stall. His name illuminated the screen, and a calming wave of relief washed over you, your erratic heartbeat finding a more measured rhythm.

Seungmin understood that in moments like these, communication through text would be the most comforting method. The message on your screen read, Feeling any better? 

Your fingers, still slightly trembling, moved to reply. A lot better, thanks to you. Everything just became a little too much for me. 

The reply came almost instantaneously, and you noticed how the tight, claustrophobic feeling had dissipated. I’m glad I thought of bringing the headphones. Why didn’t you tell me though? The words on the screen seemed to convey a trace of concern, as though you could almost see the frown forming on his lips as he awaited your response.

A pang of guilt pierced your heart. You knew Seungmin would have dropped everything to help you if only you had spoken up. But you didn’t want him to worry or to spoil such a significant night. I didn’t want to ruin such a big night. I thought I would be able to handle it...until I couldn’t anymore. You sent the message with a sigh, already anticipating the comforting words that would follow. 

Baby, these parties mean nothing compared to your well-being. You didn’t ruin anything, I promise. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you read his soothing words. 

Moments later, another text from him appeared. Do you want to stay here for a bit, or would you like me to take you somewhere quieter? 

Relief flooded over you as you replied, Can we stay here for now? I don’t want to go back out yet. 

Of course. Do you want to let me in? The offer was genuine and well-intentioned, but it made you feel uneasy. 

You texted back, No. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can handle being touched or having anyone at close proximity right now...sorry. 

Hey, I get it. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to come out.

Seungmin settled in by the door of your stall, his presence a reassuring anchor in your storm of anxiety. Leaning against the door, he continued to text you intermittently, checking in without overwhelming you. Despite the guilt that gnawed at you for keeping him away from the main event, you found solace in the sight of his polished shoes peeking out from beneath the stall door. His calm and patient demeanor provided a sense of security, a reminder that he was there for you while respecting your need for space.

To lift your spirits, Seungmin sent small jokes and snippets of gossip from the party, aiming to lighten the mood without pushing you too far. His thoughtful gestures made the wait more bearable. When you finally felt ready to emerge, you texted him, signaling that you were prepared to leave the bathroom. Seungmin maintained a respectful distance as he guided you out, his focus on ensuring your comfort. He stood by your side, a steady presence as you stood by the bathroom sinks, allowing you to regain your composure.

As you began to feel more at ease, your heart soared when Seungmin gently pulled you closer, swaying with you to the rhythm of a slow song that was apparently playing at the main party. The music and his embrace melded together in a soothing harmony, offering a sense of peace and connection that made the night’s earlier chaos feel like a distant memory.

한형준 ── HAN HYEONGJUN.

You and Hyeongjun had been together long enough to know that your bond was more than just a fleeting connection—it was a deeply rooted love, a steadfast commitment that had withstood the test of time. The idea of moving in together had always felt like the natural progression of your relationship, a step that would solidify the foundation you had built together. The thought of creating a home, a sanctuary where your love could continue to blossom, was a dream you both held close to your hearts. 

After months of searching, of walking through countless doorways in hopes of finding the one that felt right, you finally discovered a small, charming apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect in its simplicity, a place that felt like it could become your own little haven away from the world. The moment you stepped inside, hand in hand with Hyeongjun, you could almost see the future unfolding before your eyes—a future filled with love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

However, as thrilling as this new chapter was, the journey to get there was anything but easy. The excitement that buzzed in your chest was often tempered by the looming dread of packing up your lives and making the transition into this new space. Despite the weeks you had spent mentally preparing, gathering boxes, and organizing your belongings, the reality of the task ahead felt overwhelming once the packing began in earnest. The room that had once been your sanctuary, a place of comfort and familiarity, now looked as though it had been ravaged by a chaotic whirlwind. The bed, once a cozy nest of warmth, was buried beneath a patchwork of clothes—some folded neatly, others discarded haphazardly in the frenzy of sorting. Your once-tidy shelves had succumbed to disorder, with books that had been carefully arranged now lying in disarray, their pages splayed open as if they, too, were crying out for the order that had been lost.

Boxes were strewn across the floor, some half-packed, others overflowing with belongings that seemed to resist categorization. Trinkets and mementos from your relationship and childhood, tokens of memories that had shaped you, were scattered across every available surface. The room had become a chaotic testament to your inability to start a task and see it through to completion, the once-organized process now devolved into a mess that mirrored the storm of emotions brewing within you.

As you stood in the center of the chaos, trying to take it all in, the room seemed to close in on you. The sheer magnitude of the task at hand made your head spin, and the weight of the change—of leaving behind the familiar to step into the unknown—pressed down on you like a heavy blanket, smothering you with a growing sense of panic. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your chest tightening as the reality of what lay ahead threatened to overwhelm you entirely. You felt frozen, trapped between the urge to curl up on the floor and the fear of succumbing to the full-blown panic attack that you could feel building inside you.

In that moment, the dream of a shared home, of a future filled with love and laughter, felt impossibly distant, overshadowed by the immediate reality of the overwhelming chaos that surrounded you.

Hyeongjun had been meticulously packing utensils in the kitchen, each clang and clatter a small, careful note in the symphony of your impending move. The rhythm was comforting in its predictability, a soundscape of progress amidst the chaos. But it was the sudden, uneven hitch in your breathing that cut through his focus like a knife. The familiar, faint tremor in your breath sent his instincts into overdrive. He abandoned the half-filled box without a second thought, his concern drawing him swiftly to the doorway where he paused, eyes immediately searching for you. The room’s disarray only served to heighten his worry, but it was the look on your face—pale, strained, eyes wide with the first signs of panic—that sent him rushing to your side.

His presence was immediate, solid, a tether in the storm of your thoughts. His hands hovered just above your trembling frame, a question in the tension of his fingers, as if even the act of touching needed your permission in this fragile moment. His voice, calm and steady despite the urgency he felt, broke the silence, "Touch or no touch?" It was the question he always asked, a gentle reminder that he was there, ready to offer exactly what you needed.

Your throat tightened, the pressure of unspoken fears constricting your ability to breathe freely. It took a moment, but you managed to force the words past the lump of anxiety, your voice barely above a whisper yet laced with raw desperation. "Touch, please. Hard." The plea was met with immediate action. Hyeongjun closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you with a firm, reassuring pressure that felt like a lifeline. He pulled you close, your face pressed into the warm, solid comfort of his chest, as if he could shield you from the overwhelming chaos that threatened to consume you.

His embrace was everything you needed—strong, grounding, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. His hands moved over your back, each squeeze purposeful, designed to remind you that you weren’t alone in this moment. The weight of his arms anchored you, offering a physical connection that countered the spinning in your mind. As you struggled to sync your breathing with his, he guided you gently, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, coaxing your frantic gasps to slow. The familiar scent of him—warm, comforting, like home—began to permeate your senses, grounding you further with each breath.

Hyeongjun understood you in a way no one else did. He knew how deeply change unsettled you, how even the most exciting transitions could unearth old anxieties that clung like shadows. This move, this beautiful step into a shared future, was something you had both yearned for, yet the enormity of it was daunting, and he recognized that. 

Still holding you close, he gently guided you to the edge of the bed, never loosening his protective grip. His voice, soft and steady, filled the space between your breaths. He began to speak, his words a soothing balm, painting a picture of the memories he hoped to create with you in your new home. 

He spoke softly of lazy Saturday mornings, where the two of you would linger in bed, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the world outside moved on without you. He painted a picture of sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden hues across the room as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of your shared space. He imagined those moments when you would shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find him waiting with a mug in hand and a soft smile on his lips. The day would stretch out before you, unhurried and serene, a canvas for whatever simple joys you decided to indulge in. 

He envisioned quiet evenings in the living room, where the two of you would sit side by side, your legs tangled together as you watched movies, your laughter or quiet conversations filling the room. Or perhaps, he mused, there would be nights where no words were needed—where you’d simply sway to the rhythm of music only the two of you could hear, dancing slowly in the dim light of your cozy space. Those were the moments he looked forward to, where nothing else mattered but the gentle pulse of your love, a steady, comforting presence that would fill the apartment with a sense of belonging.

He spoke of the laughter that would echo through the kitchen as you experimented with new recipes, each attempt a delightful adventure, whether it ended in culinary success or a flour-covered mess. The thought of you animatedly talking about bees, your special interest, brought a tender smile to his face. He was excited to hear you ramble on about your latest findings, to listen to your voice light up with passion as you shared the intricacies of something you loved so dearly. For him, the simple joy of coming home to you after a long day, of seeing your face light up when you saw him, was a treasure beyond words. It was in these everyday moments, he believed, that the true beauty of life together would unfold.

Each word he spoke was a delicate thread, weaving a tapestry of the life you would build together—a life rich in love, comfort, and endless moments of shared happiness. As he continued to paint this picture with his words, you felt the tightness in your chest begin to ease, the panic that had gripped you slowly loosening its hold. The overwhelming mess that surrounded you, while still daunting, no longer felt like an insurmountable mountain. 

When he offered to help you pack your bedroom, it wasn’t just the task at hand he was addressing—it was the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t have to face any of it alone. With Hyeongjun by your side, you knew that no matter how overwhelming the process might seem, you would get through it together. The future you were moving toward, though filled with uncertainties, was also brimming with the promise of love, and that was more than enough to keep you going.

이주연 ── LEE JOOYEON.

Since childhood, Saturdays had been your sacred ritual, a cherished time when you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of your favorite internet cafe. Nestled on a tranquil street near your home, this digital sanctuary had become your second haven. The space was a dimly lit enclave, bathed in warm amber hues that softly illuminated rows of screens and keyboards. The gentle hum of cooling fans and the rhythmic clatter of keys created a soothing symphony of focused activity. The walls were adorned with neon posters of popular games and vibrant advertisements for energy drinks, their colors shimmering and pulsing with the memories of countless gaming sessions. Each desk bore the marks of countless hours spent in virtual worlds, with personal touches and signs of frequent use that told stories of dedicated gamers. The chairs, worn and comfortable, had molded to fit their occupants perfectly.

The employees, who had long grown accustomed to your weekly visits, had come to appreciate your presence. They reserved a specific PC for you, tucked away in a semi-secluded corner you had claimed as your own years ago. This desk, bathed in the soft, reassuring glow of your screen, was where you felt most at ease, completely immersed in the digital adventures you embarked upon. The ritual of arriving, settling in, and losing yourself in your chosen game was a comforting certainty, a bubble of predictability in a world that often felt overwhelming.

However, recently, this cherished routine had been disrupted by a new and vibrant presence. Jooyeon, as you would eventually learn, was the boy whose frequent visits began to unsettle the calm monotony of your Saturdays. His arrival was like a burst of vivid color and exuberant energy crashing into your serene haven. The air would come alive with his boisterous laughter and animated conversations with friends, his presence a dynamic contrast to the quiet you had grown accustomed to.

Despite this disruption, you found yourself surprisingly receptive to the change. Jooyeon, with his strikingly handsome features, was impossible to overlook. His mischievous grin, ever-present and wide, seemed to illuminate the room as if he were the very essence of playful charm. Dressed in soft, well-worn hoodies paired with relaxed jeans, and with his shoulder-length hair cascading like a dark, flowing waterfall, he exuded an effortlessly cool demeanor. His interactions with friends and his choice of games created a vivid contrast against the backdrop of your reserved routine, adding an unexpected layer of excitement to your once predictable Saturdays.

There were moments when, despite your best efforts to stay focused on your own game, you would catch fleeting glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. You tried to remain unobtrusive, but Jooyeon's unabashed enjoyment of the popular games he was engrossed in was impossible to ignore. The occasional flicker of movement or the burst of his distinctive laughter would effortlessly draw your gaze, breaking through the veil of your concentration.

On one particular Saturday, Jooyeon’s frustration had reached its zenith. After what felt like the hundredth defeat in his solo game, he dramatically slumped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head in a gesture of surrender. His eyes, alight with a mixture of defiance and amusement, wandered towards your screen, where you were deeply immersed in a particularly demanding quest. As you navigated through the game with meticulous keystrokes, Jooyeon’s gaze lingered on you, an unspoken challenge mingling with curiosity that sent a flutter through your heart.

Despite the distraction of his intense scrutiny, you managed to achieve a hard-fought victory, leveling up with a triumphant flourish on your screen. The soft hum of intrigue that escaped Jooyeon’s lips prompted you to finally look up, your heart racing as you became acutely aware of the flush warming your cheeks. Jooyeon’s grin remained undiminished, his eyes sparkling with an affectionate, teasing light. After a moment of shy silence, his laughter bubbled forth, a soft, infectious sound that seemed to fill the space between you. His amusement wrapped around you like a playful embrace, acknowledging the unspoken connection that had quietly woven itself into the fabric of your Saturday rituals.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, meant only for you to hear. “I heard that game is pretty good. Do you mind if I join?” The simple invitation opened the door to a new, intimate connection. From that moment on, Saturdays transformed into a shared adventure, where you and Jooyeon would indulge in games together, swapping playful jabs and cracking jokes. The hours spent with him became the highlight of your week, and the growing affection you felt for him added a layer of significance to each interaction. You found yourself seeking ways to show him how much he meant to you.

Noticing his habit of picking at his skin whenever he was stressed or anxious, you returned the following week with a thoughtful gift: a textured, silicone stress ball from your own collection, designed to help him redirect his nervous energy without damaging his skin. On another occasion, as you patiently waited for him to clear a level in a game you were both playing, you couldn’t help but be charmed by the expression of concentration on his face. Without fully thinking through your words, you blurted out, “You have this cute habit of pouting when you’re really focused. It’s kind of distracting, but in a way that makes me want to keep watching.” The sudden boldness of your words left you both blushing, but Jooyeon’s shy attempt to hide his wide smile made the moment feel worth the slight embarrassment.

When Jooyeon revealed that he was an idol, the bassist for the rock band Xdinary Heroes, you found yourself spending the entire week immersed in his music and learning everything you could about him. By the time Saturday rolled around again, you were eager to confess your newfound knowledge. As he settled into his usual seat beside you, you said with a grin, “I was thinking about you so much that I ended up reading every article, watching every video, and listening to every song from your band. I have so many questions about you guys!” The sight of Jooyeon’s typically casual demeanor giving way to shyness, while his grin widened, was heartwarming. He eagerly entertained each of your questions, his enthusiasm is infectious as ever.

Finally, on one late evening, as the employees of the internet cafe gently nudged you both towards the exit, you lingered outside, a smile playing on your lips. Turning to Jooyeon, you said softly, “I really like spending time with you. You make my brain feel all fizzy, like I’ve had too much caffeine, but in a really good way.” 

To your surprise, he chuckled lightly and replied, “Okay, so, I don’t usually say stuff like this, but...whenever I’m with you, it’s like my brain gets all tangled up in butterflies and excitement. I really like spending time with you, too.”

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! @joosbasschick (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

[whorediaries-09]

sweater weather;

pairing- roommate!sirius black x reader warning(s)- fluff, some silly banter, tad bit suggestive. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- aghhh just a brain rot 😞🤍. also this whole series is so self indulgent 🤭

masterlist of 'the seven lives;' series

the slut club

and now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater

he doesn’t like cats.

much to his dismay, you’re bending down and cooing at the little kitten that curls up against your ankle. it has got soft blue eyes which reflect innocence. you run your fingers through its black fur, picking the small animal up. he likes the soft smile on your face. it fills his chest with a warm fuzzy feeling he can’t explain. neither can he explain why his heart skips a few beats when he notices the twinkling in your eyes. it almost makes him drown into a frenzy of warmth.

‘can we keep her?’ you ask. there’s something in your voice that sends sparks of electricity down his spine. it’s as if he’s known you his whole life. he doesn’t want to say no, but he can’t help it. he digs the edge of his boot on the loose gravel of the path. twirling around the loops grocery packet between his fingers, he whispers, scared to let the joy in your eyes leave.

‘no,’ he tries to predict your reaction, but fails to. surely the joy in your eyes melts, but the hope doesn’t. from what he knows about you, he knows you’re a stubborn person who stands their ground. you always get your way around in some way or the other. but you’re also a people pleaser. you hate it when you’ve to truly go against somebody’s wishes to do something you want.

so, he watches as you wrap the little kitten between the folds flannel you’re wearing. there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes, a small smirk between the curve of your smile. it’s the same one you wear when you read something mildly suggestive in your books.

‘please, sirius,’ you drawl. the kitten mewls from the folds of the fabric, her eyes glinting the same mischief as yours do. he feels his breath palpitate when you move closer, putting the face of the kitten closer to his.

‘look she wants to come with us too, that’s why she’s mewing,’ you justify. he gulps slowly, his barrier of rigidity slowly breaking. he feels his thoughts melt when he stares at your lips. even though he’s never touched them before, he suddenly thinks he knows them. he feels he can carve every shape, every curve of your body with his eyes closed.

‘okay,’ he gulps. you squeal, a quiet sound from your lips.

he thinks it’s melody to his ears.

*-

‘sirius!’ you shout across the room. your kitten, binx, is curled across your chest, purring away silently as you rub your fingers through her fur. you’re laying down, your feet thrown across the sofa, letting the nail paint on your toes dry. the mild winter allows a soft sunbeam to peek through the windows.

‘what?’ he asks, coming out of his door. he has nothing but a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. several tattoos are inked upon his porcelain skin with happy trail on his abdomen which traces down, leaving less to imagination. his hair is wet and droplets of water trace down his defined pectorals. while you’d been living with him for nearly 8 months now, you’d definitely never seen him shirtless. it makes your chest fill with a strange warmth. it makes your brain short circuit for a moment when he smiles, walking towards you.

‘like what you see?’ he teases, wiggling his eyebrow. you gulp slowly, before you regain your composure.

‘i can’t hear you over the loud music,’ you say, getting up. binx falls on your lap, and she scratches your arms with her nails.

‘hey hey, calm down little woman!’ sirius says, noticing her scratching you. he takes her into her arms, her little paws trying to scratch at a surface.

‘don’t do that to your mum,’ he says, looking into her eyes. she stops fidgeting for a bit, before she mews loudly throwing her paws on his chest and leaving a long scratch across it. it digs deep into his skin, letting out blood.

‘binx! you naughty menace!’ you scold as she scurries off, jumping from sirius’ hold.

‘asshole,’ he murmurs, grasping his wound.

‘i’ll patch it up for you,’ you say.

*-

‘do you trust me?’ you ask, holding the cotton soaked with the antiseptic with a pair of tweezers. you’re standing in between his thighs. he’s wearing nothing but grey sweatpants, being overly dramatic for the scratch on his chest. while you think it’s adorable, you’re sure it’s just for the shits and giggles.

‘i do, but i feel like I shouldn’t?’ he answers, grinning mischievously. he likes your form between his legs he thinks. it makes him go feral, you looking down at him while you fix his wounds. it makes his imagination go wild. the idea of you touching him while he’s half naked thrills something inside his stomach.

you slap him across his shoulder. it’s a soft playful blow and he laughs. his hands suddenly grip your waist, as he pulls you closer, almost mushing his face with your breasts. he watches the breath get stuck on your throat, as you wet your lip, tongue slowly darting out over your lower lips. you’re unconsciously leaning over his face, soaking the cotton ball into his blood.

he sneers as a soft burning pain grows, and his fingers dig deeper into your waist. you unconsciously arch your hips towards him, your hands falling on shoulder. the tension grows, and the heartbeats palpitate between the both of you. there’s a look of dreaminess in your eyes he’s never seen before. he thinks it makes him weak in the knees. you trail your fingernail on a tattoo, before rubbing the antiseptic on his wound.

your breaths are ragged when you finally close his wound with a patch. your job was done, you’d move away. you should move away. but his touch burns into your soul, but it isn’t enough. it feels familiar on your skin, yet so unfamiliar. you lean closer unconsciously as if from muscle memory. you cradle his face, your noses rubbing-

a loud noise of shattering glass distracts you. you pull apart, a flustered look on your face. heat occupies your skin as you crumble into a shell of embarrassment. he lets go of your waist, and you stutter,

‘binx- the little fucking minx-‘you say, before you run off.

*-

you’re carrying a cup of coffee in your hand, running late for your job. a piece of toast hangs from your lips, and you’re running around the house, trying to find your tie.

‘you can wear mineeeee,’ sirius drawls, closing the battered copy of ‘the picture of dorian gray’.

‘i could if you gave it to me!’ you shout, swallowing the last piece of the butter smothered bread.

‘you’ve a nice swallow game, i see,’ he muses. you groan, gulping down the last bit of your bitter coffee.

‘that’s a really bad one!’ you say, tucking your shirt into your trousers. screaming internally, you realize you can’t find your belt either. sirius enters his room, seemingly searching for his tie.

‘can you give me a belt too?’ you ask, hurrying off behind him. binx runs in front of your feet, and in an attempt to not fall on her, you fall on the floor with a thump, followed by sirius who trips on you.

his locks tickle your face, his grey eyes staring into yours with an intensity which reminds you a memory you never had. it’s a minor flash, something of a haze like dream, but you remember it so clearly. your breathing rages, hotness searing through you as his scent and warmth looms over you. there’s a glint in his eyes you can’t decipher, but your memory has it engrained. as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

‘i like it when you’re under me,’ he whispers. it’s a low rasp, one you’ve never heard before, yet it ignites something in you.

something that excites you.

*-

he’s fleeing when he receives your call. your voice was a timid whisper when you’d called him, laced with fear. he hated it, he hated how it sounded. but when he arrives at the bar, he finds you completely safe, surrounded by your friends. you’re chatting happily, your skin flushed with the alcohol that renders through your body. he’s perplexed, till one of your friends spot him. she bats her eyelashes at you, whistling as he walks towards you.

‘what happened?’ he asks. he holds your fingers, gripping them tight. he’s trying to read through your emotions. he’s trying to read you through the happy smile and shining eyes. but he’s too distracted by how happy you look.

‘it wasz a prankh!’ you cheer happily, your drunk state rendering your words.

‘seriously?’ he asks, rolling his eyes. he’s smiling, he can’t help it. you laugh,

‘yess!’ you try to stand up, but trip on your heels instead. he holds you closer, letting you support your weight on him.

‘you’ve had too much to drink,’ he scolds. you gaze at him happily, your hormones getting the best of you.

‘i know!’ you exclaim, feeling the collywobbles consume you as his scent tantalizes into your senses.

‘don’t you think we should leave?’ he asks.

‘should we?’

‘yes,’ he says, pulling you closer. his fingers dig into your skin, feeling your touch. it calms his nerves. still, he needs to hold you closer, to feel you, to know you’re safe.

‘okay i’ll go. will you take me home?’ you ask, an innocence provoked in your voice. he feels himself melt, scarring him and his memories.

‘i’ll do. i’ll always take you home.’

*-

the stars are shining bright on the dark sky. you’ve his leather jacket wrapped around your form, as he holds you close. you reek of alcohol, but he doesn’t mind it. it’s infused distinctly with your perfume, and he finds his comfort in it.

‘hi,’ you say, wrapping your arm across his waist, pulling him closer. he presses a kiss on your hair, breathing you in. it’s perplexing, the burning emotions you let flee in his chest. the warmth he feels with your presence.

‘hi,’ he whispers back. there’s a glazed look in your eyes. he knows it. he remembers it. it reflects him, and he feels as if there’s no one in the world but you and him. his heart beats raggedly, and he’s afraid it’ll pop out of his chest, when you lean closer to him, pressing a soft kiss on his jaw.

‘you’re so beautiful,’ you say, snuggling against him. your heels click against the loose gravel of the path. it’s a moment of softness he wants to cherish forever.

‘but you’re hurting me…so much. i wish i could kiss you. i wish i could hold you like this forever. i wish i could keep you close with me, just for me,’ you ramble.

‘then why don’t you?’ he asks, his fingers cradling your jaw.

‘you’ll kiss me?’ he looks down at you, his eyes scanning your features. the cold air waves over your hair, and he holds your face between his hands. his fingers ghost over your lips. you lean into his hand, as he presses a soft peck on your chin.

‘i’ll do, when you’re sober,’ he promises.

*********************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking (if you want to be tagged please reply under this post!)

[riddles-fiddles]

Can we have a cat? Part 1

Synopsis: you ask your boyfriend if you two can raise a baby kitten together. Characters: all the housewardens Tags: fluff, silly scenario to warm the heart Notes: gender neutral reader, slight long post

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Says no immediately after your "can we-" without hesitation;

Is extremely annoyed by your request to take a pet; he's not the best to tend for himself, imagine taking care of a dependable being? By some magical coincidence, the following day you come to Savanaclaw to spend time with Leona, you're met by a fluffy, round and very noisy ball of red hair and twitching ears - Cheka. Taken aback by the unexpected sight, you let the door to Leona's room behind you close with an unattended thud, pulling the cub's attention from his annoyed uncle to you. "Ohhh! Unca's friend came to play too!" with a hearty squeal, the small boy finally easens his grasp around Leona's arm, eliciting a relieved huff from the older lion who seemed to sink more into the bedsheets, trying to disappear. "y/n, come and play house with us!" Your eyes drift around your boyfriend's room, noticing how chaotic and messy it looked - even more worrysome than the usual: clothes nested around some wooded animal dolls, coloring books scattered over the carpet... and a make-believe tent roughly made from a big blanket and two chairs complemented the setting. While you watched the surroundings with amused surprise, Leona finally noticed your presence, limiting his body to simply lift his head from the pillow with a sly smirk slowly musing his lips. "Weren't you asking for a baby kitten some days ago? Well, congrats, you just got the chance to take care of one. Have fun." With a sarcastic chuckle, he rolls over, officially passing over the responisbility of taking care of Cheka to you.

Surprised by your request; when he asked what'd you want for your birthday, he expected for jewels, new clothes or chocolate.

Is a bit reluctant at the idea, since he has absolutely zero experience with landdwelling company animals.

Azul is prideful of the amount of knowledge he has obtained along his devoted years of land studies, but never inclined himself to extend his knowledge so deep into human animal husbandry. He knew it was common to farm animals and some species were privileged enough to live graciously amongside humans, but the intrinsicability of how to care for them was something foreign. And yet, you made it clear that the only thing you desired for your birthday was a kitten. Determined to fulfill the wish of his beloved, Azul ate piles of books and educational veterinary videos on how to properly raise a healthy cat for days on end, even furthering his - scarce - knowledge about different breeds of felines. The octo-mer knew that raising an animal would demand harsh responsibilities and time to dedicate, which could collide with his management of Mostro Lounge, so he chose to search for a more independent breed. When your birthday finally arrived, Azul made sure to give you to a long day of princess treatment - he drove you to all the places you wanted to see, obliging to your wishes, and when the night befell Octavinelle's dorm, he reserved the Lounge exclusively to you two, a romantic dinner by candles and soft music playing on the background, simply enjoying each other's company and talk. "-And now, allow me to bestow my beloved with my most sincere and humble gift," with a dramatic clear of his throat, Azul disappears by the lounge's heavy curtains, only to return with a basket decorated with bows and a cyan blanket covering the mysterious content inside. "Happy birthday, my precious pearl." As he lifts the blanket, the small figure of a siamese kitten lifts its head, greeting you with a quiet, tender meow.

Excited as hell!!!!

Always wanted to get a pet after leaving his home, but Jamil wouldn't let him.

When you first requested Kalim about a kitten, boy's eyes went wide and sparkling, body fuming with joy. "Of course my love! What kind of cat would you like?" He would ask you excitedly, gently grasping your hands on his, a smile so large it looked painful. "Oh, wait, I know, I know!" Filling the air with playful laughter, Kalim pulls you to his treasure room, bringing down a tapestry with intricate drawings woven all over it, depiciting a very inviting oasis with a girl with important looks laying over a big, imposing feline. "The princess from the Scalding Sands was always followed by a tiger. Maybe we could adopt a cub together! He could grow strong and happy with all the room to run around!" Kalim radiated so much, it would be a sin to tell him that owning a tiger is absolutely unreal, but then there goes Jamil, ready to slam some world-shattering rationality, turning his bright smile into a frustrated pout. Some days after, though, you're certain to get a delightful surprise from Kalim! During one of your Oasis dates, the Asim boy brings you to a beautiful corner of the shared paradise between you two, laughing all the way while carefully leading you through the tricky sand, his hands gently covering your eyes. "Hold on a little longer my love... and... now you can see my surprise!" Finally, he dramatically reveals his loving gift: a baby bengal kitten. Not really a tiger, as you two had envisioned, but equally as stunning.

Fervently refuses it

Vil dislikes seeing you sad, but he can't simply be talked into adopting a kitten. Too much hair, it will ruin his perfect clothes.

"Mon moitié..." he sighs, cautious with his tone. His voice above a whisper as he gently caresses your palm. "I understand the desire to care for a cute, vulnerable being, but it wouldn't work." Despite all your efforts to try and charm Vil into your idea of taking mutual care of a kitten, the man was harder to convince than you expected, showing how determined he was on keeping his looks always the living definition of perfection. Although stubborn on his decision against it, he proved to be patient enough to endure your contant bickering. You passionately tried to show him the bright side of owning a kitten; health benefities, dozens of magazines talking about how animals makes you look even more attractive, but nothing was nothing to ring his bell, only eliciting exhausted sighs and repetitive 'no's from him. Eventually, you decided to take matters into your own hands. As usual, Vil came over to Ramshackle Dorm during the weekend for a sleepover and skincare session date. It wasn't until he was about to settle down on bed to snuggle by your side that he felt something fluffy and squishy, quickly moving away from him that he noticed something off. "Mon amour, is that...?" he asks, a slight anxious tone on his voice as Vil slowly lifted the warm blankets, eyes widening by the sudden vision of big yellow eyes staring back into the shadows. "So, you decided to go against my desire to not adopt a cat, uh?" He lets out a defeated sigh, pose slumping off for a moment before his gaze locking onto your pleading eyes. A quiet chuckle falls off his lips, amused by your adorable antics. "Fine, I guess it couldn't be that bad..."

Just like Kalim, he's over the ceiling with the idea!

Idia loves cats, and now he won't need to charm Grim or Lucius into his lap anymore! "Y-you're serious about it?! We can finally have a kitten of our own?!" Poor boy can hardly contain his joy; eyes half lidded and smile large, baring all of his shiny, sharp teeth. With a spring in his feet, slightly rocking, he wastes no time from pulling his tablet up, quickly searching for adoption centers as million of result windows popped right in front of you two. "Which kind would you like? I've been looking forward for a kitty just like Lucius TBH..." He mumbles to himself all the while, his pale face finally drawing some rosy colour to his cheeks as the boy made sure to schedule a million adoption appointments. Though you needed to do all the social business of talking to the volunteers and staff responsible for the kittens, it was already a true demonstration of how much the shy boy was excited for the occasion by the way he followed through with you with every step of the process, and when you two were finally granted access to the cells, you watched with gleeful delight the way Idia finally let loose, rolling around the could floor with a horde of kittens in his gentle embrace. "This is the happiest super event of my life! If this is a dream, please don't wake me up", he babbled between breathless giggles, cradling a bunch of kittens close, before pulling you along a careful, half hug. "I get to adopt a kitty and spend time with you..." In the end of the day, you two exited the adoption center with not only one, but a full litter of kittens on your arms. After all, how could you deny the lively sparkle on your boyfriend's eyes?

Secretly excited about it; he always wanted pets, but was denied by his strict mother

He needs to stop and think about his duties as housewarden, though.

The idea of adopting a kitten stings something within his heart - a fluterring, warm feeling washing over his being as Riddle contemplates the sincere joy of tending over a dependable, beautiful and frail being like a kitty. What wondrous delight would it be to care for it and see it grow every day. "That sounds mos pleasing, my rose," he mumbles, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. However, the vision merely lasts a second, before his frowning features once again graces the moment. "But I'll have to put some thought on that matter first." As much as Riddle longs for the idea of cultivating something beautiful like a life by your side, he needs to consider a lot of things - a kitten can be feisty and curious, too much for its own good. The ruler of roses would not tolerate any kind of disarray, although he learned to be less harsh on the matter. He was also worried regarding the animals that lived within the Garden of Roses; the kitten could mistake the dormouse for a toy or even try to eat it, and Riddle couldn't bear the thought of the flower bushes turning into total messes. He would dwell on the final decision for days, trying to find a way to keep both parties happy and satisfied - worry not though, as all he needs to make his mind is for you to bring the kitten over and show him just how much well behaved it can be, always keeping an eye out for any mischievous intent of climbing over the roses, of course. While alone, you could even delight on the way Riddle would dress your kitten with special clothing. "Since he is basically a member of Heartslabyul, I thought it would be the most appropriate to dress him with our dorm uniform."

Surprised and excited by your request

Since he's basically still learning about humans intrinsicities, the idea of experiencing the pleasure of taking care of an animal amused him

"Oh, a little kitten, you say?", he mused almost immediately after the exposing of your wish, a compliant grin gracing his features. "And what stirs that sudden desire, child of man?" Malleus learned to admire and revel on the few occasions where he was privileged to spend time between animals, as most of them seemed to fear his imposing nature - and maybe that was the biggest reason he grew anxious by the days, playing the encounter with the kitten on his head over and over. Like Azul, he spends his free time learning more about felines - all the things about their diet, behaviour, health issues... he wants to be useful while helping you take care of the baby, while also avoiding bigger mistakes. The fae prince makes his excitement clear even with his usual face and mannerism, always telling you little facts he learned while studying or asking you something about cats that really piqued his interest. When you two would lie down and talk until falling asleep, Malleus would suggest a line of names for your kitty, or then hear your suggestions intently, sometimes cooing in agreement. When the day to meet your beloved furbaby finally came, Malleus was overjoyed, but a little hesitant still. The prince took the small feline carefully into his hands, fearing it would break from the slightest brush of fingers, only to gasp in wondrous surprise by the way the tiny animal curled up against his chest, seekin his warmth and safety. "I see you're an exquisite one, little kitten. I'm absolutely smitten with your frail figure." You watched in awe as Malleus gaze softened with a tenderness much similar to the one he reserves to you, the glimmer on his eyes a silent promise regarding the kitten.

[babygirlispunk]

Summer Fling - PART ONE

Pedro Pascal X f!Reader

Summary: living in a completely different hemisphere, you didn’t expect to bump into Pedro Pascal at a music festival.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Reader is not physically or ethnically described but is Australian. Honestly inspired by my own summer romance I experienced when I was younger with a guy who happened to be Latino lol. This is just quickly written to get over my jitters and get confidence to post other stuff SO ITS PROBALY A BIT MESSY SORRY.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

The ground is vibrating beneath you feet, your ears are ringing from hours of listening to loud music for days. The temperature has cooled down from the summer sun with the night sky. Bodies glisten with sweat, dancing in the crowded space as you're all harmoniously vibing and singing to RUFUS. Everyone's either drunk or high, sloppily hanging off one another or shouting aloud enthusiastically.

It's New Years Eve, 10 or so minutes from midnight. You can't believe your seeing one of your favourite bands live and an absolute banger of a song is playing right now and you can't help but raise your hands into the air and dance your heart out, shouting the lyrics not caring how scratchy your voice is from singing along with different singers and bands for the past 3 days.

You manage to hear your name being called out next to you. It's your best friend Syria. You two managed to lose the rest of your group when squeezing your way further to the front wanting to get into the heart of the crowd and the vibe.

She leans in closer so you can hear her over the pounding music. "I reckon we should get to the very front before midnight hits."

"Why don't we ask someone if we can sit on their shoulders?" you yell back.

You both look around to find any guy or girl that would be willing to hold you and Syria up but most people are already paired up or in groups leaving the creepy looking ones left that would probably feel you up.

Bodies keep dancing around you as you duck and weave your way through to the front. You quickly make it, motivated by the words 'You were right' booming from the speakers and the singer announcing that New Years is drawing in. As you emerge to your new spot you bump with some guy passing a quick sorry and turning your attention to the stage. Both happy with how close you are, you wrap your arm around Syria's shoulder and she wraps hers around your waist. You scream-sing, jumping up and down together getting hyped, probably sounding like squealing pigs, when you just hear a laugh next to you.

(Highly recommend listening to You Were Right - RUFUS DU SOL for the next part, for the vibe)

You look where it came from and connect with gorgeous chocolate brown eyes accessorised by glasses, paired with a wide cheesy grin framed by a scruffy, patchy beard and unkempt curly hair. He must've been the guy you bumped... Being polite, you smile back and turn back to the stage singing with Syria.

But it hits you like a brick wall and you double take. You look back to see the guy talking to their friend, up close as they talk into each others ears. Colourful lights bounce off him from the stage and you focus on his face, confirming who it is.

"Syria!" You hiss into her ear but she's too entranced by the music to notice so you give her a shake under your arm and gives you a 'what' face.

"You would not believe who is next to me!" She gives you a confused look then peeks in front of you to look at him, returning to face you with eyes as big as an owl.

Without wasting a breath she shoves you into his direction and you trip over yourself and bump into him again, basically landing on him but he ever so gracefully catches you, hooking his hands underneath your armpits.

"Woah there, had a bit too much to drink have we?" he chimes out loud.

You're embarrassed and can only blurt out a no.

"Sorry about that, those guys next to us knocked us over." Syria covers for you.

"Assholes." he looks at you, still held in his strong hands, smiling sweetly.

He brings you back to your feet and you turn around to say your thanks but your close. Really close. Face to face. Your eyes flicker at every point of his face, really soaking in every detail your buzzed out brain can retain till you land on his eyes. They're looking down at you're lips before they flick up and lock with yours. They're so deep and gorgeous, you could just dive and swim in them

"Thanks." you manage to say despite your heart is beating violently inside your ribcage. He winks back with a cheeky grin making you blush as you turn back to face the stage. The song keeps pumping around you and Syria is dancing and singing her little heart out.

He stands right besides you now and you can feel his hand brushing against your arm as you both dance on the spot. You can feel the goosebumps travelling up your arm as he keeps touching and nudging you. You can't help yourself but steal a glance at him only to see him doing the same, biting your lip, saving yourself from giggling like a little girl. That damn smile hasn't left his face.

The massive crowd surrounding you start screaming out the minute countdown and you join in trying to distract yourself from the closing proximity between the two of you. Try as you might, you still keep looking at him in the corner of your eye only to see him doing the same.

30 seconds left.

A hand gently glides around your waist followed by a body pressing against to your side sending a chill through your body and the butterflies are released, fluttering wildly in your stomach.

20 seconds left.

You look up at him, he's looking forward at the stage bobbing his head pretending like he isn't pulling your body towards him right now. He's clearly showing his interest, there's no point chickening out now.

You snake your hand underneath his loose tee and wrap your arm along his back, placing your hand on his hip using your thumb to caress the skin on his back.

He turns his gaze to you with a smirk on his face and squeezes his hand holding your waist making you gulp down.

10 seconds left.

He bends down so that his mouth grazes your ear ever so softly.

"I was wondering if you would be my new years kiss?"

He moves his face in front of yours, just a breath away, waiting for your answer.

5.

"Are you sure?" was all you could manage.

4.

"Why not start the year kissing a gorgeous girl?" he inches closer to you, nose tips brushing.

3.

You're both breathing heavy, both of your eyes fliting between each others eyes and mouth. Breaths brushing each others skin.

2.

You turn your bodies to face one another. Moving your arms around his neck, his hands not losing contact with your waist, squeezing your lower half closer to his, pelvis' coming in contact inciting a flutter down there.

1.

The song drops and lips crash into one another, the impact cushioned by his plush lips, you feel euphoric. This all surreal even with Syria screaming her lungs out behind you along with cheers from the masses.

You feel the heat of fireworks and sparklers set off from the stage as everyone celebrates the new year but it doesn't compare to the fire burning inside you as he pulls you in tighter making your chests rub against each other as you two are hungrily trying to taste one another. He swipes his tongue along your lips as an invitation to deepen the kiss and you let him in immediately. As your tongues dance together, tasting each others choice of alcohol, you feel his nose tickle against your cheek.

Not wanting to pull away, you inhale and exhale through your nose and you are enveloped by his smell, his sweet musky smell. He is like a damn drug and you're already addicted. Wanting more you tangle your fingers through his hair, desperately trying to bring him in closer, deeper than physically possible.

You're becoming overwhelmed by it all that a moan slips out of you, passing though and exchanged to his lips. You try not to over think it but you feel a slight smile form on his lips as he devour you, returning the moan back for you to inhale. His hand drops to your ass, kneading them in his fists and pulling you even closer than you thought possible letting you grind up his hard rump forming underneath his thick jeans and your core slickens fast.

Not wanting let go but starving for oxygen, you eventually pull back, not letting go of your bodies. He is also out of breath, shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

“What’s your name?”

You say your name through shallow breaths and he repeats it after you. You feel excitement hearing him say it out aloud, making your own name sound like liquid gold oozing from his mouth. Still getting your breath back, be gently nudges his nose on yours, pecking you and not wanting to lose the space between you, eyes never leaving yours.

“Would you come back to my tent* with me? Get away from this crowd and prying eyes…” he says almost desperately asking as his lips keep pecking yours, knowing exactly what he’s really asking.

You nod in agreement and he smiles that sickly sweet smile. Moving his hands from your ass, he threads his hands into yours and turns to his small friend group speaking with each other. You then realise they had watched the little show you two had put on. Then you feel like something is missing.

Syria.

You look all around in the surrounding crowd of singing and dancing bodies but you can’t find her. She’s missing. Letting go of his hand, you continue looking around getting on your top toes, jumping to look over peoples heads. You call out her name but she’s no where to be seen. Every worse case scenario runs through your head. Your group made one rule to follow during this festival.

Never ditch your buddy.

A wide hand grips around your wrist, giving you a slight fright till you remember who it was connected to, following his body till your met with his puppy dog eyes.

“My friend is missing, I need to find her, make sure she’s okay.” You say frantically.

“Let me help you.”

“No no it’s okay.” There was no way you were going to drag an A-list celeb around massive festival grounds swarmed with thousands of people that could horde him, away from the safety of his own friends.

“Are you sure?” He brings you in closer wrapping his arms around your waist as if locking you to him and you hold onto his arms, getting a good feel of how toned they are. You look at his lips, swollen from your kiss, hungry for more but you had priorities…

Giving him one last kiss, you keep it sweet and simple, lingering there for a moment fighting the urge the stay. “It was nice meeting you Pedro.”

As you pull away he give you a sad smile to pair with his puppy eyes. Turning away, shattered your moment was cut short, you weave through the crowd looking for Syria.

You circle round the crazy crowd, desperately looking for Syria but to no avail. You whip out your phone fumbling fingers on the screen trying to call her. Reception on its last bar unsurprisingly but by some miracle she answers. You hear your name from the other side but it’s staticky and broken, repeating over and over again as you try to call her name on your end.

Barely making out the words over the static and loud music pounding around you before it eventually hangs up. You look at your screen, call failed.

You growl in frustration, till a hand grabs your shoulder. Twisting around hoping to see his face, you’re sadly met with your friend Joey.

“Hey we’ve been looking for you!” He yells over the music.

“I’ve been looking for Syria!” You yell back.

He rolls his eyes and grabs your hand and leads you.

Once you’ve reach the back of the crowd, the music is less rattling and people are more spread out, laying on the grass, too drunk or too high, you spot of friend group with Syria.

“There you are! I thought you were kidnapped or something.” You give her a big hug, relieved.

“Oh my God no! I spotted some of the group in the crowd and went to get them so they could witness you getting with your celeb crush!”

“I still don’t believe it. Could be a look alike” Huffs Joey.

“Well luckily I took a pic.” Syria proudly unlocks her phone and shows everyone the photo.

It’s blurry and all you can see is your back facing the camera with the top of Pedro’s head next to yours. The butterflies from before flutter again as you see he’s arm wrapped tight around your waist and his hand gripping your ass.

“Can’t see shit Syria.” Someone else says.

“Fuck off.” Syria shoves the person and turns her attention to you. “I’m sorry I ditched you. Didn’t mean to scare you and ruin your moment. Literally the one time it really mattered. Now you probably won't see him again.”

You give her a big hug knowing she didn’t ditch intentionally. “All good. Just glad knowing you're alive and not kidnapped by weirdos.”

“You hot bitch, you hooked up with Pedro fucking Pascal!” She squeals his name and jumping like an energized puppy, overly excited for you.

You laugh out loud, still not quite comprehending it actually happened despite your skin still hot from his touch, the tingle lingering below and your lips swollen from your intense pash. You bite your bottom lip, reminiscing.

“What a way to start the year.”

MASTERLIST - NEXT

check out my recs list for stories written by people with actual talent ♡

A/N: Multiple day festivals in Australia, typically, people camp at the festival site with tents, camper vans etc. and depending on the festival, they sometimes have the VIP tents with working facilities that cost an extra pretty penny AKA glampin' so he’s chilling in that 👍🏼

[dianesdiaries]

scorched earth| Homelander x Y/N

Synopsis/AU;Homelander becomes a madman after Vought decides they have the better facilities of taking care of Ryan, realizing the pain and abandonment he went through Ryan would believe his dad left him to face. In a fitted rage, he destroys the Vought building one by one, taking a life every minute it takes to return his boy. Y/N is assigned to the special forces team responsible for 'cleaning up his mess', and ensuring that nobody gets hurt. By the time special units have reached the building, Homeland's already taken a liking to toppling down dominoes.

TW: lots of violence in this one! I didn't really know what to write but I thought it would be a cool idea to see homelander go cray cray again lol

NOTE: this is short but I feel like would make a rlly good part 2 lmk!

I searched the premises top to bottom, looking for any signs of imperfections left behind in his massacre. God knows what he had in store for the rest of the world, and not one person has a single clue what could've led to this trajectory. I watched as bright stars peaked in the sky, cameras and vans swarming the building like bees to a nest. My gun slinged along my arm as I slowly watched the stars get closer, and closer..

It was bodies.

The sound of bones mushing into pavement made my stomach hurl. But when it rains, it pours. Dozens of civilians began falling from the sky, bouncing off the concrete in sync to the sounds of blood curling screams arising amongst viewers. I know, I was assigned to special forces for a reason. But he's lost his damn mind.

"All units, Move in! NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW! I SEE ONE MORE BODY DROPS ITS GONNA BE YOU!" The chief demanded, his coffee splattered across his long tattered coat in a fuel of rage. Hoisting into gear, I took one last look at the pain behind me. News vans scampered back and forth across the roads looking for a way out, avoiding the bloody trouble Homelander had flung into their direction. But something was wrong. I began to sweat, and it didn't stop. Drops of water began covering into my helmet vision, tactical gear cooking my body as the temperature increased. Metal scraping against brick made my ears squeal, quickly retreating into the building for safety. Red lasers danced across the city scape, quickly sawing whatever came into its way.

The building couldn't be any more worst than outside. Scarlet red painted the walls like an artists' touch, the main floor wiped of human life. I was assigned no other job but to simply talk to him, my guys in route watching closely as we made our way to the elevator. Quickly, I swiped my feet at the feeling of someone's touch, backing away in terror. There lay A-Train, who once was the world's fastest man quickly turned to nothing but broken bones. He crawled gently towards my ankle, pleading with his eyes as he winced in pain. "Send a paramedic team in, now. He's still got time" I demanded, the group of SWAT enforced men looked at me puzzled. "You're going up there, alone?..." one brave suit asked, I couldn't see his face but his tone ensured everyone was equally as terrified. I could see right through the supes facade, Homelander didn't scare me not one bit. I nodded my head in approval, the boys quickly sweeping to A-Train's rescue as they steadily carried the poor runner out of the building. I stared at the hopeless elevator entrance ding open, inhaling deeply as the doors closed behind me. Soft elevator music hummed in my ear, steadying my heart beat to a soft thump. I had to be prepared for the worst of it all, he could cut me into two pieces by the time the door opened and nobody would know until it was too late.

39,40...41.....42..........42.....

The elevator came to a holt, its bright led numbers flickering as the music came to a stop. My feet jolted below me, holding steadily to the railing as I waited in silence. He knew I was here. He knew someone was coming. My heart roared through my chest as I struggled to catch my breath, what the fuck was I thinking taking this job?

distress fled into my body, watching the doors pry open to the grip of ruby-red gloves. I fled to the ground, covering my head with my heads, watching the door opening wider. And wider. His cold distilled blue eyes emerged from the peak, analyzing me through the small crack. Homelander demanded, "Take off the helmet and let me see your face", watching my hands unravel from fetal position as my breath quivered. Slowly emerging from my helmet, I took the might of speaking up. "Homelander, I know your stressed... I'm not sure what happened, but.. we can work through this-". In the blink of an eye, the metal doors tore as gracefully as paper, falling into the ever abyss of the metropolitan below. My pupils constricted at the sight of him, his face was dim in expression and yet said so many things. His once "all American dream" blue suit covered in the blood of his coworker's, his hair a frilled mess, mania scampered in his eyes to the sound of his laughs. The dazed man grabbed my neck in a grip, and pulled me towards the gravel of the roof. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach, watching him edge closer and closer to the end of the building. "Homelander, wait.. Homelander please d-don't do this! Listen, okay? I'm Y/N, now you know me. Just tell me what happened, I'll listen!", pleading for my life as my gear scraped across the floor. The crazed supe held my head against the edge, a thousand feet of death kissing my eyes in return.

"They took my son. Away from me. My son is gone. you're going to tell me where he is. Or you can go say hi to your friends for me" he said, my hands pushed in denial as I screamed at the force of his body swinging me back and forth. "Where is Ryan! Goddamnit-where is he!" Homelander roared, his eyes holding threat in a bright neon red, I could feel my life draining from me in the moment. I had to think quick. I could keep my job, and do as I'm told. Or, I could save my life. I could do what I was good at. What Butcher taught me best. Rationalizing.

"Listen- look, okay? I can help you find Ryan, but you got to let me go! Without me, not a single fucking person at Vought would tell you his whereabouts. Besides, what they did to you.. Could be happening to him as we speak. Y-You want that?", my words could be playing with fire. But I had to give it a shot. Homelander laughed in mockery of my bravery, hastily letting go of me as he clapped and laughed in rejoice. The man's madness made me sick to my core. I could feel fresh acid forming like a lump in my throat, but I had to keep composure. I couldn't show I was scared. He would kill me without hesitation. He paced back and forth in thought of my offer, hands on his hips as I tried to catch my breath and pushed up against a corner of the roof. The screams from below echoed like the gates of hell, I could tell it was riling him up. "I have an idea, but.. We need to do it my way. You understand? No diverting, no nothing" I exclaimed, he looked across at me as blood dripped off his icy blonde tips stained a muck brown. "We leave. Now. Before they find out you were responsible for this, we can pinpoint it on another supe and you get Ryan back. Homelander- if this gets on the news...", I carefully stared back into his cold gaze, gulping at the words stuck in my throat. "You might not ever see Ryan again if Vought finds out you did this" I said.

The supe almost took that as a challenge, raising his eyebrow at my comment. "Really? And what makes you think I'll listen to you?" he chuckled, approaching slowly as I backed my heels into the ground. He towered carelessly over me, crouching low to meet my gaze. The smell of death reeked off his clothes, his teeth blinked brighter than the sky filled with mourning souls. Without thinking, the man lifted me carefully and began to back away from the building, I could feel our bodies lift off the ground and up towards the clouds. It calmed me, to know that I was able to do something perfectly for once. The one moment that could've possibly ruined my entire life, I saved myself. But I couldn't save the others

"Before we go.. You want to see something cool? I've been meaning to do this for a while" he chuckled, stopping in position as we levitated above the downtown metropolitan. The feeling of course hot beams almost burned through my suit, as I watched the Vought building explode into an array of flames. The building's base was untouched, Homelander squealed in laughter watching people rush onto the streets like ants. "They had what was fucking coming for them. And they knew it. Nobody to blame but themselves, right Y/N? I mean, you have to agree. We're friends now. And you!-You Are going to get me my boy back", his head shook vigorously as if he agreed with his own sentence, looking at me for the approval of his message. I understood that he was setting me up, but two can play that game. "We need to see Butcher. Now. He'll know what to do" I explained, my eyes refused to watch the city below. I had nowhere to look but right into his eyes. And I prayed that he could feel the hatred feeling through my body. Effortlessly, the dazed supe began to track throughout the clouds, elevating so the bare naked eye could barely see us through the cotton-field of clouds.

[ms--lobotomy]

So happy you all are liking my Mertarion fics! Here's your food for the day. [Previous] [Next]

Summary: You learn to care for the big funny mermaid in your pool.

Word Count: 1016

Content Warning: Mention of the United States, mentions of eating live fish, infodumping about a topic that i find very interesting,

Image Credit: @squishyowl

The supermarket was crowded this Sunday with a selection of well-dressed denizens of your city. It must be the after-church rush. You felt most underdressed for this trip to the store. The line for the checkout was long, and the man behind you sighed as he checked his phone. The music was blaring loud, and you could hear it through your headphones. The cashier raised an eyebrow at you as she slid the last tray of salmon across the scanner.

"Cookout," you said, taking one of your headphones off of your ear.

The cashier stuck out her lower lip and nodded, sticking the tray in the last of your reusable bags. "Have fun at your cookout," she said. You winced at the total in front of you as you put your card in the card reader. Groceries were expensive already without a giant merman in your pool. It chimed, and you took the card out.

"Have a nice day," said the cashier, and you exited the store and hurried to your car.

...

"You told me you like salmon?" you asked, your lower legs dangling in the cool water. "How do you even get salmon? There's no wild salmon in the state," you said, throwing a cut into the pool.

He took it, putting it in a death roll not unlike an alligator would its prey. His teeth were sharp, his pupils (from what you saw, at least) a straight line on his eye. He splashed saltwater everywhere. You squealed, throwing your forearms in front of your face through the worst of it.

"Mortarion, careful, your stitches..." you muttered before he soon stopped his activity.

"Force of habit..." he said after swallowing his first bite of salmon. He had the fillet in one hand and was grabbing at the deep blue tiles that lined your pool with the other. You noticed him running his fingers along them, and smiled slightly. He took another bite and swallowed. "I would much prefer live fish, but this will do."

You shuddered at the prospect of feeding a live fish to the merman in your pool. Where would you even get one? Typhus spent a lot of time at the beach and you would see him there when you went on your off days, but you weren't going to ask him anytime soon.

Meanwhile, Mortarion pulled himself out of the pool a little bit to look at you. "You do not eat live fish?" he asked, his eyebrows raised and his green eyes widened.

"Oh, absolutely not," you muttered, running a hand along your other forearm.

"Oh," he said, genuinely taken aback. "You are a strange one, for sure."

"It's my entire species, actually..." you trailed off. "Unless, you're kind of weird, I guess? I mean, there's weirdos online who eat raw meat but I doubt they'd eat--"

"None of you eat live fish?" he asks after swallowing another bite of fish.

"No... sorry."

He looked at you incredulously. He moved his hand along the side of the pool, towards your dangling leg. He brushed his finger against its side, and you felt your heart beating in your chest much more palpable than normal. As you inhaled sharply, he retracted his hand, looking away briefly. Blood rushed to your face and you looked towards your plants.

The two of you sat in awkward silence for a moment as he finished his salmon before you caught sight of two orange butterflies in your yard. They flew around each other, tumbling through the air before one of them stopped at the passion vine that adorned the trellis and the other flitted around it.

"Oh!" you shouted, eager to fill the void with light conversation. You pointed at the two little beings by the plant. "Look! Butterflies!"

Mortarion's eyes shot towards your little friends. "That's what they look like," he remarked. "I did not expect their wings to be so... extravagant."

"Oh, I think I forgot to mention that," you said, your face going warm again. "Well, that's a Gulf Fritillary. Some people call it the Passion Butterfly, but my mom always called it the first one. Oh, oh! Can you see the iridescent spots on them? They're a little far..."

He nodded. "They have little black borders around them."

"Oh, you can see those?" you asked, your eyes going wide. "I can only see them when they're really close." You let out a slight chuckle before looking down at him. He was awestruck, to say the least. His eyes were trained on the small bugs. His tail swished in the pool, and the rest of him was as still as a statue.

"I have never seen creatures such as these," he remarked after a little while.

"Well, there's plenty of them to see here, especially this time of year," I said. "You see that plant over there? That's a passion vine, it's a host plant for more than one species of butterfly. The Zebra Longwing actually competes with the Gulf Fritillary for this plant!" The butterflies had been moving along the plant, trailing lower and lower.

Mortarion's eyes were still trained on them. "What's the Zebra Longwing like?" he asked.

"Slightly smaller," you said, shifting slightly at the poolside. Your leg brushed against his hand again. Your eyes widened and you tensed up. He turned around to look at you, and you relaxed. He wasn't here to hurt you.

"Is... is that okay?" he asked, his voice low yet raspy.

You nodded, slowly at first before your movement became more vigorous. "It is," you said, lowering your hand to touch his. His eyes widened before he looked up at you.

"Care to join me in the pool?" he asked. He shut his eyes before opening them, looking around almost in terror.

You looked down at your outfit. Shorts that were neither too long nor too short, and a white tank top with a red design stenciled into it. You got up, and he retracted his hand, still staring at you.

"I would love to," you said. "Just let me get changed real quick."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[mesu-senshi]

Title: "Be Still, My Giant Heart"

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Konig x Reader

Theme: Comedy, Romance, Fluff

Trope: Arranged Marriage

Side-Story: "The Night She Chose Me (Again)"

______________________________________________________________

König drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his truck idling quietly in front of the quaint suburban house. The muffled sounds of laughter and music seeped through the curtained windows. His wife’s voice had been bubbly and slurred over the phone earlier, insisting she was fine but needed her "big strong husband" to come pick her up.

He chuckled to himself, the corners of his mouth tugging into a soft smile beneath his balaclava. Milo snoozed in the backseat, blissfully unaware of the drama about to unfold.

The front door opened, and out stumbled his radiant wife, her cheeks flushed from champagne and laughter, a little unsteady in her heels. Her long wavy hair bounced with every step, and König’s heart gave its usual skip at the sight of her.

But then he appeared.

A man—probably one of her friend’s acquaintances—sidled up to her, clearly trying to chat her up. He leaned in close, and König’s eyes narrowed as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

König opened his door, stepping out of the truck with all the imposing presence his massive frame afforded. But before he could take more than a step, his wife spun around to face the stranger, an exaggerated look of distaste plastered on her face.

“Eww,” she declared loudly, wrinkling her nose like she’d smelled something bad.

The man blinked, startled, while König froze mid-step, unsure whether to laugh or intervene.

“I have a husband,” she continued, her voice lilting with tipsy enthusiasm. She pointed dramatically in König’s direction, wobbling slightly as she did. “See that giant over there? That’s my man. Isn’t he perfect?”

The man looked over at König, who stood silently in the driveway, his massive frame illuminated by the truck’s headlights. The man muttered something under his breath and quickly retreated back into the house.

König approached her then, his long strides closing the distance in seconds. “Liebling, are you okay?” he asked softly, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her face lit up when she saw him, her warm eyes shining with unabashed adoration. “König!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his waist. “I missed you! Did you see that weirdo? He thought he had a chance with me.”

She laughed, the sound carefree and musical, as she pressed her cheek to his chest. “I told him, though. Told him you’re my husband and you’re big and strong and so sexy~.”

König’s ears burned, and he silently thanked the night for hiding his blush. “You’re drunk,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement as he guided her toward the truck.

“Maybe,” she giggled, climbing into the passenger seat with his help. “But I’m drunk and married~.”

As he buckled her seatbelt, she cupped his face with both hands, her expression suddenly serious. “You know I love you, right?” she said earnestly, her voice soft and slurring slightly.

“I know,” he replied, his heart swelling as she pressed a sloppy kiss to his covered lips.

“You’re my favorite,” she added, her tone affectionate and absolute, as if he needed convincing.

“I’m glad,” he said, chuckling as he started the truck and began the drive home.

The entire ride, she rambled on about how handsome and wonderful he was, her words a little jumbled but no less heartfelt. König kept stealing glances at her, his heart full to bursting.

Once they were home, König helped her out of the truck, her giggles filling the quiet night as she stumbled into his arms.

“Best. Husband. Ever!” she proclaimed as he carried her inside, Milo trailing behind them.

He tucked her into bed, her tipsy murmurs of love fading as she drifted off to sleep. And as König sat beside her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, he realized that even in her drunken haze, she still chose him—boldly, loudly, and with her whole heart.

And that was more than enough.

______________________________________________________________

Extra Scene: "The Night She Chose Me (Again)"

As König lay down beside her, the soft hum of her breathing filling the quiet room, his heart ached in the best way. She looked so peaceful, her flushed cheeks pressed against the pillow, her hair splayed out in wild waves that framed her face. Even drunk and half-asleep, she radiated a kind of beauty and warmth that felt otherworldly to him.

His massive hand hovered above her face for a moment before he gently brushed his knuckles along her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. She shifted slightly, nuzzling into his touch, and a tiny smile tugged at her lips even in her sleep.

König let out a quiet sigh, his chest feeling impossibly full. Moments like this—simple, raw, real—reminded him why he endured the weeks away on deployment, the grueling hours of training, and the solitude that came with his work. She was his anchor in a world that often felt chaotic and cold.

Tonight had been a funny rollercoaster for his emotions. The moment he’d seen that man close to her, his heart had twisted painfully. Doubt had whispered cruel lies in his ear: What if she realized how much better she could have it? What if she got tired of waiting for me? What if I’m not enough?

But then she’d laughed, scrunched her nose in that adorable way, and shouted to the world that he was hers. Hers. And it wasn’t just the words—it was the way she said them, with unwavering conviction and pride, as if the idea of loving anyone but him was absurd.

The knot in his chest loosened at the memory, replaced by a deep, steady warmth. He hadn’t expected this kind of love—didn’t think it was something meant for someone like him. He’d spent so long being the quiet, intimidating giant, the man people avoided rather than embraced. Yet here she was, drunk and happy, showering him with praise and affection as if he were the most extraordinary man in the world.

He pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, careful not to disturb her, and settled onto his side. The bed creaked under his weight as he adjusted, but she didn’t stir. Milo had curled up at the foot of the bed, his presence a comforting reminder that their little family was growing.

König allowed himself a rare, soft smile as he stared at her. He still couldn’t fully believe that she was his wife—that someone so kind, so radiant, had chosen him and kept choosing him every single day.

“I love you,” he murmured quietly in German, the words barely a breath.

She stirred slightly, her hand blindly reaching out until it found his. Even in her sleep, she squeezed his fingers, as if to remind him that she was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

König closed his eyes, the last vestiges of his insecurities fading into the night. She loved him—loudly, proudly, and endlessly. And he would spend the rest of his life making sure she never regretted it.

[obaex]

see you in my nightmares - rafe cameron

summary: rafe is forced to make a decision that will alter the course of your future together, but how long can he live with the consequences of his actions?

word count: 6k

warnings: angst!

soundtrack: welcome to breakbreak / kanye west + back to december / taylor swift

Maybe this is wishful thinking Probably mindless dreaming But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

Present

"Here you go, Kelc, that's Henry and that's Emma" Topper said, pointing to the picture on his phone of your two children, one and three, with bright blonde hair, squealing with laughter at the beach. He continued to swipe through photo after photo of them playing in the sand, in the water, finally landing on a picture of you crouched in the sand with them, their arms and popsicle-stained fingers wrapped around your neck as they climbed on you, pressing kisses to your cheeks.

"Get out of here, Top, Henry is your mini me. Holy shit. It's kinda freaking me out, I'm not gonna lie" Kelce said. "He's gonna suck at golf too if you don't let Uncle Kelce show him a thing or two." He punched Topper playfully in the arm as Topper grimaced at him.

"Nah, in all seriousness, man, you've got it made. Your kids are beautiful and Y/N looks better than ever" he said, shooting Topper a knowing look, one eyebrow raised scandalously. "Being a Thornton looks good on her man, shiiiiittt" he said, still swiping through Topper's phone where he had landed on a picture Topper had snuck of you sprawled out in your bikini.

"Geezus, give that back!" Topper said, nearly launching himself at Kelce, reaching for the phone as Kelce held it out of his reach, inspiring a howl of laughter from the group of guys they were with. They whistled and cheered as Topper wrestled the phone out of Kelce's hands.

"I leave you assholes alone for a few years and this is what I come back to?" a deep voice cut through the chaos.

Kelce's eyes flickered to the voice. "Do my eyes deceive me or has the man, the myth, the legend come back to grace our presence gentlemen?" he said, relinquishing Topper's phone as he stood up to take in Rafe Cameron on the deck of the Island Club for the first time in three years.

Rafe looked older, more mature with his hair shaved, but his boyish grin still rested on his lips. He had grown into his lanky body, filling out a suit that was more expensive than Kelce could mentally calculate.

"Un-fucking-believeable, man!" Kelce said, launching himself to embrace Rafe as a few of the other guys also stood up to shake his hand and clap him on the back, launching a barrage of questions at him.

Topper hung back as the memory of what life was like the last time Rafe was on Kildare Island clawed its way to the forefront of his mind. He slipped his phone protectively into his back pocket.

"Don't let me interrupt" Rafe said as he noticed Topper's movement, "what was I missing?"

The atmosphere shifted noticeably as the rowdy group fell silent.

3 Years Ago

Rafe watched you through the sea of bodies in the backyard at Tanneyhill as you talked with Sarah and Wheezie at their family barbeque. He watched your eyes shimmer and your lips curve into a perfect smile as you laughed at something his sisters had said, his ears straining over the music for a chance to hear that perfect sound that made his heart dance. He took in your sundress, draped over your shoulders, sitting perfectly on your tanned skin. After almost five years together, he could never get enough of you, could never wrap his head around how beautiful you were, how lucky he was to be yours. You lifted your eyes, scanning the crowd, searching for him and when they rested on him it was like fireflies in his stomach to see your face light up for him. You looked at him with such admiration, joy and happiness. He smiled broadly at you and stood to make his way over to you just as Topper joined your group, jumping into your conversation with his sisters and stealing your attention away to offer you a big hug.

Rafe hung back for just a second longer, watching the way Topper listened to Sarah but continued to shoot sidelong glances at you that went unnoticed, eyes shifting to your profile, your sundress. Rafe knew that tactic, knew that look in Topper's eyes because it was the same damn way he looked at you. His feet were moving before he could register what he was going to say or do. He tried to gather himself as he sidled into your group and slid a hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Topper had the decency to look embarrassed as he blushed and cleared his throat before sticking his hand out. "Good to see you, man" he said.

"You too, Top" Rafe said, eyes narrowed.

The next morning, Topper was long off of Rafe's mind as he lay in bed and watched the early morning sun shine through the blinds in his room, casting spotlights of warmth on your bare back as he drank you in, thinking not just for the thousandth time how lucky he was to have you curled up beside him, tangled in his sheets that now smelled permanently like you, like a perfect summer day. His heart warmed at the sight of you. You were everything that was perfectly right in his life. He felt himself orbiting around you, drawn to you like the moon draws the tides.

You shifted slightly in your sleep, letting out a contented sigh that was both extremely cute and undeniably sexy at the same time, making him smile. His mind drifted to the ring in the velvet box stashed at the top of his closet. His heart raced at the idea of making you his. His fingers twitched, aching to run his hands over you and eventually his urge won out as he moved his fingers over your back and pulled you gently against his chest, nuzzling into your neck. You let out a sweet laugh that coated him like hot honey as you turned around and buried yourself in his chest, nuzzling him back as his warm arms wrapped snuggly around you. This is heaven on earth he thought.

Present

Topper stood, his hand outstretched, ever the gentleman, as he attempted to change the topic. "It's good to see you, Rafe, welcome back, man."

Rafe took Topper's hand in his strong grip, nodding again to Topper's phone, "well, don't leave me hanging, are you going to show me what had everyone so riled up?"

3 Years Ago

"Sit" Ward said, gesturing to one of the leather arm chairs in his office as he walked to a side table to pour two drinks.

"Dad, I can't, I'm on my way to pick up Y/N, we have reservations in 20 minutes."

"She's what I want to talk to you about, son."

His father had never offered to talk about anything that didn't have to do with work. Rafe's chest bloomed with the idea that he wanted to have a conversation about you, that Ward was finally coming to understand how important you were to him.

He placed the drink in front of Rafe without meeting his eyes. "I know about the ring" he said simply.

Rafe's head shot up at that. He didn't think anyone knew about that, purposely taking a trip to the jeweler on the mainland alone, spending an entire afternoon picking out what was just right for you. As Rafe was getting ready to ask, Ward simply held up his hand, whisking away the question in a gesture that said Of course I know, I know everything.

"Son, man to man, I'm telling you, this isn't a good idea."

"What?!" Rafe said, anger and shock roiling in him, so taken aback at where this conversation was headed he stood to his feet.

"You love her, that's plain to see, Rafe. Which is why I know you'll do the right thing. She's a good girl, Rafe, a sweet girl, she deserves someone that can give her the future she deserves. Someone with... fewer skeletons in their closet." Silence fell heavily between them as Rafe met his eyes in a cold stare. They had never spoken about Peterkin directly or indirectly since it had happened. Ward moved to his desk, pulling out what looked to be a tape recorder and pressed play. Gavin's voice rang clearly, "...He's protecting his son. It was Rafe Cameron that killed Sheriff Peterkin."

Rafe nearly dropped the glass of bourbon in his hand, managing to set it down at the last minute. "W-What are you doing with that?" he asked, gesturing manically to the tape recorder, his voice rising in panic. "Dad, what the fuck is that, what are you doing?!"

"I'm not doing anything, Rafe" he said as he slid the tape recorder back into his desk drawer. "This tape will never be played for anyone else. I want to be sure of that. I want you to help me be sure of that. I need you focused now more than ever, focused on the company, not focused on Y/N. You know what you need to do." And with that, he waved Rafe out of his office.

Rafe stumbled into the hallway, shutting the door behind him, his hands shaking as he shoved the heel of his palms into his eyes. He could feel the sweat gathering at the base of his neck as he began to pace, his mind going a mile a minute.

What Ward hadn't considered was the fact that Rafe had already told you. He'd told you everything, about his drug addiction, about Peterkin, about the darkest parts of his soul... and you had stayed with him through it all, through rehab, through recovery, through finding a way to forgive himself. But all of that was before the threat Ward had just dangled in front of him, the threat that he would ruin Rafe's future and by extension your own, that one day he could hand that recording in and you would be left alone, abandoned as Rafe spent the rest of his life in prison. "She's a good girl, Rafe, a sweet girl, she deserves someone that can give her the future she deserves." He swallowed the bile in his throat as he realized his dad was right.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he swiped it open to see an incoming text from you.

He spent several minutes thinking about how to reply before typing out, "Hey, sorry, something came up, can we reschedule?"

Present

Topper cleared his throat. If he had known Rafe was coming tonight, he wouldn't be here.

His phone burned in his pocket with the pictures of you, his wife with his children. Rafe had lost the right to ask about you 3 years ago. Rafe's gaze was on Topper, unblinking, like a dare. Topper's mind raced with an excuse, a response, another way to change the topic of conversation when his thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Topper?"

The group turned as you walked through the door, cradling your daughter in one arm and holding your son by the other hand.

Rafe's head snapped to you, drinking in the sight of you while desperately trying to piece together what was in front of him, head turning from you to Topper and back again like he was watching a tennis match only he could see.

"Guys, I am so sorry to interrupt, I know it's boys' night" you said.

Topper brushed past Rafe and walked hastily over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Everything okay?" he asked quietly.

You continued talking to Topper, eyes trained on his face, a soft smile on your lips that Rafe swore at one time was reserved only for him. He tried to hear what you were saying but the blood in his head was rushing so loudly, it made it sound like everything around him was underwater. All he could do was stare, mouth agape, at the child in your arms and the other by your side. They looked so much like you. They had your eyes and your freckles, even the outline of your nose; it made his heart physically ache. But they also looked like Topper, especially your son who Topper had bent over to pick up and who was hugging him around his neck. The world started to spin as Rafe tugged at his collar, trying to get air in his lungs as he took in the future he would never have with you. He was desperately searching for some sort of explanation, for something that wasn't exactly what was right in front of his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he said finally, louder than he had intended to as everyone turned to look at him.

You could hear a pin drop.

He wanted to be angry, he was angry. He thought about all the times Topper had ogled you, even when you were his. He wanted to punch Thornton so hard he would never wake up, his fists clenching in response. But more than anger, he felt a deep deep sadness and remorse that sat like an anvil on his chest. His breathing became erratic and before he could control his emotions he started to cry. To cry. He didn't even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the picture of the family in front of him, the family that should have been his.

He could feel himself coming undone like buttons flying off a too-tight jacket one at a time. Plink-plink-plink.

You looked at him strangely, your movements, your eyes, your voice devoid of emotion, like you had just noticed he was standing there. "Rafe, are you okay?" you asked.

Rafe's own anguished cries woke him up as his eyes shot open. He was breathing heavily and sweat coated his skin. He sat up, physically clawing at the pain and heaviness in his chest as he looked around and tried to remember where he was. A clock blinked on the bedside table: 4:37 AM. His mind frantically tried to figure out his surroundings. He was in bed. He was in bed in a hotel room, in New York City. He was in bed...

It was a fucking dream?

It felt so real he could feel the tears burning behind his eyes and despite the minutes that passed, he couldn't slow down his racing heart, gasping for breath as he untangled from the sheets and slid onto the floor, head in his hands. Memories that he had tamped so far down into his conscious that he was surprised they were still accessible flew to the surface...

3 Years Ago

You were crying.

You were crying so hard that Rafe didn't know what to do. Every fiber of his being ached to pull the words he had just said back into his mouth, to swallow them whole, to undo the last 20 minutes, to pull you into his arms, but he couldn't. I can't be with you anymore he lied. I don't love you he lied. We don't want the same things he lied and he lied and he lied.

You were so confused, so upset. You begged him, you pleaded with him to give you another chance, thinking you had done something wrong. You promised you would change, promised you would be better and that was when he had finally had enough, unable to take it anymore. He stood up, leaving you alone on your couch and walked out your front door without any further explanation.

He barely made it out of your driveway before his tears caught up with him and he slammed his fist repeatedly on the steering wheel in frustration. He didn't make it another 10 minutes before he had to pull over and get physically sick on the side of the road at the thought of what he had just done.

She deserves better he told himself then. She deserves better he told himself every moment since then.

Present

Rafe had spent every single day trying to forget you as he moved out of North Carolina, resigning himself to a life spent travelling from hotel to hotel, city to city, responsible for the expansion of Cameron Development, which was booming. He worked 75-hour weeks, throwing himself into work as a way to forget. To forget the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair, shaving it in a desperate attempt to help. To forget the taste of your lips on his, your soft skin under his touch, the way you looked at him and only him, like he was your whole world. The way you loved his sisters, the ring he had bought for you, the dreams you had shared of a family, of a life together, of the way you had loved him when he was unlovable.

He sat on the floor for hours, letting himself feel the things he hadn't let himself even think about in three years through sobbed breaths, living, reliving and killing his own dreams.

Finally, as the sun rose, he grabbed his phone and called Kelce.

"Rafe Cameron? To what do I owe the pleasure, my man, how's it going?"

"Hey Kelc" Rafe said, clearing his throat, his voice still thick with emotion that he was trying to hide. "I uh I'm thinking about coming back into town. Look, this is random, but, Y/N, is she with anybody?"

There was a long pause. Rafe held his breath.

"Rafe, I don't think it's my place to say anything. If you want to talk to her, you can come see her for yourself. But.... I can't promise she'll even speak to you... after everything. She's working at the law firm on Calhoun Street."

Rafe said goodbye, hung up and began packing.

He spent the entire flight and the 40-minute drive from the airport in a daze, trying to think about what to say, what he could possibly say to you. As his truck wound down the familiar roads of Kildare Island, he was overwhelmed with memories, the restaurant he had taken you to for your first date, your favorite place to get ice cream, the beach where you'd kissed him for the first time. He shook his head, trying to right his mind as he pulled onto Calhoun Street, realizing he hadn't made any progress in what he wanted to say. He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten; he caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, taking in his bloodshot eyes and wrinkled shirt. He looked like shit, but he had already wasted years getting here, years making his own life into a disaster, he wasn't going to wait any longer.

He stepped out of the car and began walking towards the law offices when he heard the unforgettable, unmistakable sound of your laugh that pierced his heart and nearly brought him to his knees. He turned to see you walking up the sidewalk with a young boy in your arms, deeply focused on what he was saying as he babbled and played with a loose strand of your hair.

His heart plummeted into his stomach. I'm too late he thought.

He was standing there, unmoving, eyes transfixed on you.

As you got closer, his figure caught your attention and unlike in his dream, you noticed him immediately. You stopped in your tracks, like you had walked into a brick wall, your eyes widening in recognition.

Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was here. Rafe Cameron was on Kildare Island and he was standing in front of you, staring at you. Your body shut down like it was in self-preservation mode at the memory of what he had done, and the words he had said the last time you'd seen him. You couldn't move, you couldn't speak, you didn't know what to do. He had taken your whole heart with him when he left and even though 3 years had gone by, even though you had desperately tried to move on, even though you had made significant progress, seeing him made you feel like you were right back on that day, like a vase he had knocked over, shattering into a thousand pieces that would never be fully right again no matter how many times you tried to reconfigure it.

Rafe wiped his hand over his mouth and walked over to you as your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest.

"Hey, h-how are you doing?" he asked.

How am I doing?! You destroyed my life, broke my heart and now you're back 3 years later and want to know 'how I'm doing?' You thought bitterly. You swallowed your feelings, unwilling to let him see how much he still affected you.

He looked nervous, jittery, anxious, his eyes flickering between your face and the boy in your arms and your heart squeezed for a moment at the idea that he might be using again. That, at least, would be a plausible explanation for this ridiculous situation.

"I-I'm okay" you said. The boy in your arms had started to wiggle and you set him down. "Hey, sweetie, why don't you run inside, okay? I'll be right there." The little boy eyed Rafe skeptically before making his way inside.

Rafe cleared his throat as his eyes followed him. "He's-he's sweet" he managed to eke out.

You smiled, looking after the boy affectionately, "He's a handful, but I do what I can to help Rachel out."

Rafe's eyes shot back to you, pointing between you and the door the boy had just gone through, desperately trying to put the pieces together, praying he had heard you right but forbidding himself to get his hopes up.

"Wait, he's not - you're not?" he said, gesturing.

"What? No!" you said, fighting back the tone of offense. Like Rafe had any right to know anyway.

Suddenly, Rafe grabbed your left hand, eyes shooting to your ring finger, which sat bare.

Your hand tingled at the feeling of his warm touch, but you managed to gather yourself quickly, pulling your hand back.

Rafe looked confused, eyes shifting to yours and then away quickly. "I-I thought...Topper...I didn't know...."

"We...dated...." you replied, clocking the tick in Rafe's clenched jaw in response. "It didn't work out."

He wasn't you you thought. Nobody is you and that's the problem.

Rafe turned his back to you and began to walk away, running his hand through his short hair before turning back around, chewing on his thumbnail, startling you with the look in his eyes that were pained, anguished with something else running deep below the surface that you didn't want to linger on.

"Go out with me tonight" he said after a moment.

"What?!" you spat, exasperated.

WHAT!!!!!!!!!! your mind screamed.

"Please, just give me a chance to explain."

"Rafe, I don't know what you could possibly have to say at this point" you replied quickly. You could feel your emotions bubbling up. You needed to get far, far away from him as you felt your resolve begin to crumble. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please Y/N, I'm begging you. Please. One night. No expectations at all. You can walk away after that, I will completely understand."

Silence.

He took a step closer to you, his voice low as he whispered, "I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but please just give me this."

No, no, no, no, no, no your mind echoed on repeat.

"Okay" you whispered back.

Rafe entered the side door of Tanneyhill quietly, pleasantly surprised that his key still worked. There weren't any cars in the driveway, he hadn't told anyone he was coming home, but he didn't want to take any chances.

He wandered the hallways quietly, equal parts surprised and unsurprised that little-to-nothing had changed in his long absence as he made his way to father's office.

For so long he had cowered in fear of this room, this man, of the threat that hung over him like a guillotine. Not anymore. Let Ward do his worst. He wasn't a little boy anymore. If Ward swung, he would swing right back. He itched to, in fact, as he thought about the conversation three years ago in this very place that had stolen everything from him. He quickly pulled open the drawers of the large mahogany desk, rummaging through the contents before he found what he was looking for.

To Ward's credit, the tape recorder was covered in dust and looked unused and unplayed, buried at the back of the drawer. Rafe set it down on top of the desk and glared at it, reliving momentarily the mistake he had made years ago, deep in the midst of his drug addiction in an effort to save his father, to save his family. He reached for the lamp on the desktop and brought it forcefully down on top of the tape recorder, sending bits of plastic pieces flying onto the floor and across the desk as he nearly ripped the lamp out of the wall, pounding it over and over and over again until all that was left were indistinguishable shredded pieces of plastic and the dented mahogany. Rafe was breathing heavily, his breaths coming in and out shakily as he felt tears burning in his throat, promising himself that he would become more than his mistakes.

After a long shower and a longer nap, Rafe's head was more clear than it had been in weeks in terms of his priorities. Nothing mattered more than you, nothing had ever mattered more than you and he was going to do everything he could to make you see that.

As he navigated to your house to pick you up, he couldn't help but think of the date that he never should have cancelled and how different his life would have been if he had chosen to go out with you that night instead.

You looked achingly, stunningly beautiful in an open-backed dress that teased your tan skin. For years, he hadn't let himself think about how beautiful you were and now that you were in his front seat, riding shotgun where you belonged, he could barely keep his eyes on the road. The drive was silent but for the quiet scratch of the radio. The entire way he stole sidelong glances at you that he hoped went unnoticed, but brought a blush to your cheeks all the same as you desperately tried to keep your own eyes facing forward. His gaze felt like the sun's rays on a hot summer day, as it traced your long eyelashes, your lips, your everything.

You didn't let yourself think too long about the way your body felt under the warmth of his blue eyes.

He didn't let himself think too long about the fact that you had dressed up for him.

Dinner was nice... but awkward. Rafe hated himself for that. He hated the awkwardness and the tension that simmered beneath the surface of every conversation. Things between you two had never been awkward, ever. You were like his second half. You used to be so at ease with each other, life with you was so effortless. It was evident that your guard was still up, so he kept the conversation light, asking about work, your family, your friends, desperate to learn everything new about you that he had missed, like a little kid trying to put together the last pieces of their favorite puzzle.

He managed to make you laugh. Twice. It made him feel like the king of the universe and he tried desperately to keep that smile on your face for the rest of the night; something that used to be second nature to him, now a battle every step of the way.

After dinner, you both stepped outside into the night and a cool breeze tickled your skin, making you shiver. Rafe reached out a hand instinctively to warm you, but pulled back at the last minute, balling his hands into fists at his side.

"Take a walk with me?" he asked, knowing he was on borrowed time at this point, as the night was coming to an end.

You took a deep breath and looked around, trying to think of an excuse, any excuse not to, but you couldn't deny that some part of you was enjoying this; the sweet pain and sweet pleasure of having Rafe back, if only for a moment, like holding a firefly in your hand, brief, fleeting. You knew how this was going to end: you, alone again, back to square one, picking the pieces of your heart up off the ground. But, you wanted to pretend, you wanted to keep living in this make-believe world where the past 3 years hadn't happened for a little while longer.

You looked at him and the way his midnight blue eyes traced your face and you cursed yourself for the unwarranted tenderness you had towards him, would always have towards him, despite everything. You nodded, and followed him to the nearby pier.

You walked side by side for awhile, the only people on the otherwise abandoned walkway; your only company the sound of the waves that lapped against the boats in the water and against the dock. What once would have been a comfortable silence between you felt thick and heavy, weighed down with 3 years' worth of unspoken words and two broken hearts. You bit your lip softly to keep from crying as your emotions caught up with you and your mind whirled. Rafe stopped walking beside you and turned to face you.

You realized looking at him now that ever since he'd come back, he'd looked uncharacteristically nervous and unsteady. The Rafe you knew, or thought you knew, was always confident, self-assured, cocky even. Now Rafe's unease matched your own, putting you further on edge.

"T-thanks for agreeing to this tonight. I don't even know where to begin to explain myself" he said, looking around, avoiding your eye contact.

"Look, I'm a grown man, I've made my own decisions and I know I have to live with that but... fuck... FUCK." He began to unravel quickly as his breaths came out heavy and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and began to pace.

"Rafe" you said, reaching for him before you knew what you were doing, the instinct to comfort him wound so tightly in your DNA.

"I was gonna ask you to marry me" he said, pulling his hands away from his face to find yours.

Your head spun in confusion and you felt your dinner lurch in your stomach.

"What?" you whispered, your voice wavering.

"My dad knew it. He... threatened me.... he told me you deserved better and the more I thought about it the more I realized he was was fucking right. You are such a good person. Honestly? You're the best person that I know. You had no business being with me. I was living on borrowed time with you as it was and-and I wasn't going to resign you to a life like that, with me. You deserve so much more than to settle for second best, for someone with so much bullshit in his past. A recovering drug addict? A murderer?" he said as he shook his head strongly and tears spilled from his eyes, "I wasn't going to do that to you."

"Rafe you were 19, you were high, you weren't in your right mind. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, but you have to forgive yourself, you can't let that hang over you anymore."

Your heart and your mind were racing with each other to try to sort out everything he had just said to you. He wanted to marry you? What he was saying now was in such stark contrast to everything he had said then... that he didn't love you... that you wanted different things.... Your own tears bubbled over at the memory and you wiped at them furiously, even though they wouldn't stop.

Rafe hated to see you cry. He hated himself more for making you cry, again.

"And here I am making a fucking mess of it all anyway, just like he said I would" he said as he looked at you. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry, baby" he said, stepping forward like he wanted to comfort you as he watched you begin to cry in earnest, his term of endearment tearing open your wounded heart. He pulled himself back, both of you stuck in limbo, your emotions spilling out in front of you, unsure of how to act on them.

Rafe continued to ramble, like his explanations could dry your tears, "I tried so hard to tell myself I was doing the right thing, that you'd be happier without me. Shit, maybe you are!--" he said, throwing his hands up in frustration.

I'm not you thought, I am so desperately not.

"--But I had to come back here and tell you that I never stopped loving you. Not for one minute. I didn't mean anything I said back then. I missed you with every part of me. I-I haven't been with anyone else. I couldn't. They weren't you. It felt awful.... You're it for me. You always have been, you always were" he choked on his last words as he rubbed the back of his hands over his eyes in an attempt to stop his own tears now as he whispered in a grovelled voice, "You're my girl. I wanted... want..." he stumbled over his words, his breathing erratic, "Want you to be my wife. I want the future we always talked about babygirl, you, me, our family..."

You tried and failed to hold back a sob as you covered your face and turned away from him, your stomach in knots. You were having trouble breathing and you couldn't compose yourself under his gaze, not when he was saying things like that.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Fuck" he said quietly. "This was so selfish. I shouldn't have said anything. I-I just had this dream about you..." you turned around to face him as he continued, "...you had moved on, and I just thought if I got to you before it was too late maybe by some miracle, by some gift of God you would give me a second chance. But, I think I know that's too far gone now. You've built an amazing life for yourself, sweet girl, you don't need me."

He looked earnestly, deeply at you, his own face scrunched as the tears rolled down his face. "But God I am so sorry baby, I am so so sorry for what I did" he said, he flexed his fingers desperately wanting to reach for you again, to comfort you.

If anyone asked you later how or why the next few minutes unraveled the way they did, you wouldn't have had an answer for them. Sometimes, there is no answer for the way two hearts, two souls respond to each other. There wasn't a plausible way for you to make a decision about anything, your head was swimming with your tears and as you struggled to catch you breath, you met Rafe's eyes with your own. And like so many of the nights you had spent missing him, the only thing you wanted, the only thing you craved was to feel his arms around you, for him to tell you that everything was going to be okay, that he was sorry, that he didn't mean it, that he wanted you back.

So, you let yourself have it.

You stepped forward and you buried your head into his chest, arms curling around him, grabbing the back of his suit jacket like a lifeline.

He was frozen to the spot and you squeezed your eyes shut as your whole body shook with your cries before he tentatively, gently put his arms around you. When you didn't flinch or step away, he pulled you in deeper, nuzzling into your neck. "M'sorry, I'm so sorry" he whispered over and over and over again as he rocked you gently back and forth.

Eventually, you put your arms around his neck and he could feel your hot breath and your warm tears against him. He could have fallen to his knees. As it was, he was having a hard time keeping himself steady at the feeling of you pressed against him, trying to figure out what it all meant. For now, he wasn't going to question it, he was going to take it one step at a time.

EPILOGUE - 2 Years Later

Rafe was at the sink washing dishes when he heard you padding up behind him in your bare feet. When he turned to look at you, his soul melted.

You were cradling your son in your arms who was just waking up from a nap. His blue eyes were just like his dads as they fluttered open, his head resting on your shoulder as he clung to you. You brushed his bright blonde hair out of his eyes and the ring on your finger that had sat for so long in Rafe's closet caught the sunlight. It looked perfect on you, just like he knew it would.

You were smiling down at your son before you looked up at Rafe and he smiled back at you, shaking his head, thinking how lucky he was to finally, finally be living his dream. You smiled at him, that smile that was his and his alone that felt like the first touch of the sun on a spring day as he reached down to kiss you softly, sweetly. "I love you, Mama" he said as he wrapped one hand around your waist and the other rested against your growing belly.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @diary-of-jj, @m-indkiller, @underscorebabbabybabay

[hereticdrws]

it's a little specific, but was thinking about loser!mizu going with reader to a karaoke as official girlfriends (yay!) and discovering that reader was a massive theater kid in high school or something, seems in character to me lol

Karaoke

a/n: I loved this sm I rlly hope u like it 😭 I'm a sucker for loser mizu I need to write headcannons for her 😭

For texting akemi is pink you are purple

Word count:997

Warnings: swearing, alcohol mentioned, I think that's it? Lmk if I missed one

Mizu x reader enjoy ☺️

------------------------------

The lights beamed across the floor of the karaoke bar, a small disco ball decorating the ceiling of the room, drenching the room in small flickering lights, the floor and the small platform was covered in confetti, probably from a previous party.

I looked around for my girlfriend who thankfully was right behind me, following me like a lost puppy.

"You good hon?" I yelled over the beating music of the speakers and whoever was singing

"Yeah I'm fine" She smiled, still a nervous blush adorned her cheeks and tip of her nose at the closeness of the crowd

We had been invited to a karaoke bar by taigen, akemi, and mizus best friend ringo after we had officially become girlfriends after months of dating and even more pining and flirting (though the flirting was more you while mizu did the blushing ;])

I grabbed her hand as we made our way to the bar, sending akemi a quick text that we had arrived and were grabbing drinks

Hey!! We're here js grabbing drinks what room r yall

We're in room 4 ☺️

Great well be there soon!

"Mizu! Their in room 4!" I yelled over to my girlfriend as she grabbed our drinks, I leaned over grabbing mine from her hand

"Great, are you ready?" She inquired

"Yeah! Cmon let's go!" I said radiating excitement.

We made our way through the crowd mizu grabbed my hand squeezing it, obviously uncomfortable with the overwhelming amount of people, I gently pulled her arm towards me, her front pressed against my back.

"You good baby?" I whisper yelled into her ear to ensure she could hear me

"Yeah, crowds just a little much" She sputtered, flashing me a small smile "let's just get to the room, I think it's upstairs

"Ok" I nodded at her, changing directions and heading towards the stairs, not letting go of her hand

Once we finally made it to the room I knocked to let akemi know we were there

"Y/n! Hey omg it's been to long" She squealed as she hugged me

"Its been 2 days" I laughed

"I know! Way to long" She said back with a giggle at the end as she moved over to hug mizu

"Oh mizu! Youre gonna love this! Don't worry" akemi said since mizu had always been the shyest of the group so obviously karaoke would send mizu into a spiral, I mean cmon, singing infront of people? Are you crazy? But she had been convinced somehow

As mizu and I followed akemi into the room, taigen was already belting his heart out to an katy perry song, clearly already very tipsy

"HI mizu" ringo smiled brightly at his bsf

"Hey" She smiled back, moving to sit next to him, dragging you lightly behind her by your intertwined hands

"Mizu! Cmon sing with me!!" Taigen yelled drunkenly at her

"No I'm good" She chuckled nervously, obviously very uncomfortable with the idea of singing katy perry I front of her brand new girlfriend

However that attitude changed the second te alcohol hit her system

2 hours later, 5 drinks in, and at least 17 songs later, mizu had been convinced to start singing, as I was laughing at taigens idiocy with akemi and ringo, mizu and taigen were searching for more songs to do

"The Heather's? Tf is that" taigen slurred, the alcohol had already hit his system awhile ago

"They have heathers?!?!" I practically jumped from my seat, rushing over to where my girl friend and taigen were sitting, pushing taigen away

"Oh my God no way I fucking love them!!" I said towards mizu

"You watched the heathers?" Mizu said, kind of thunderstruck

"Yes!! I used to be the biggest theater kid" I said vibrating with excitement as I looked ta the songs

Mizu just sat there with the biggest doe eyes looking up at me"What?" I laughed as I looked at her adorable shocked expression

"I didn't know you liked them" She mumbled looking away shyly her blush turning a bright red making her palms sweat

"Cmon! Sing with me!" I said as I turned on dead girl walking

We spent the rest of the time belting out lyrics and arguing about the best song/musical, and ofc my favorite was ride the cyclone while mizus was phantom of the opera

Once everyone was all tired out mizu and I headed toward my car

"So.." mizu started, something obviously on her mind

"So..." I said with a giggle bumping her

She let out a small laugh, her blush from earlier returning once more

"I didn't take you as a theater kid" She stumbled out

"No?" I laughed

"No definitely not" She laughed back

"Well aren't I just full of suprises" her blush deepening as I winked at her, throwing my arm around her neck, forcing her down a bit since she was very tall, leaving a few pecks on her cheek, finding it oh so amusing as to watch her blush become deeper and deeper turning her into a tomato

"Alright alright cmon we gotta get home" She stuttered out

"Whatever you say Rudolph" I winked and laughed at her annoyed expression, opening the passenger door for her

We rode home with the ride the cyclone soundtrack on low as I told her all about the plays I did in middle school and high school

"No way you were in a Beetlejuice play you're fucking with me" She said with a laugh

"I'm not!" I giggled at her punching her lightly

"What part?" She said through her laughter

"Lydia deetz!!" I said still laughing along with her

"No way you got a lead part”

“I did!!”

Once we got home and changed into pajamas, I put on beetle juice and we spent the rest of our night cuddled up watching our favs

"Goodnight Rudolph" I mumbled sleepily with a subtle smirk adorning my face

"Goodnight my little theater kid" She said right back

------------------------------------

Thank you for reading I hope yall liked this ☺️

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Not Ready Part 5/12

Part 6 and Part 7 are out on my Patreon!

Readers sister dies in a tragic car accident, leaving reader and her boyfriend Ruben in the urgent custody of her niece and nephew. Readers' life is suddenly flipped upside-down since having children hadn't been the plan for her and Ruben's life together. At least not now, when his football career was reaching great new heights.

Enjoy! 💞

If Manchester City were playing at home you were expected to be there, supporting your boyfriend. At least that's what the other players' girlfriends were doing.

You sat amongst the WAG's without a ring. But after sitting through ninety minutes of comparing vacation pictures on Instagram, you felt that you might have more in common with the married women and their children. Although you and Ruben hadn't talked about starting a family yet, your relationship felt closer to that stage than a stage where the two of you are only in it for a good time.

"It's a victory. Everyone's going out to celebrate, are you coming?" One of the girl's asked you. Perhaps she was Joško's new boe. She was sweet but a real party girl. You ended up accepting her offer, for the subconscious reason that letting loose on a dance floor might be enough to fill the emptiness inside of you. At least for the moment.

"I'm gonna get another drink." You shouted in Ruben's ear.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I want one. I can handle it." He let you go, but kept an eye on you as you made your way across the dance floor towards the bar. The club you had gone to was a real Posh Fest, playing none of the music that you liked. However, all Ruben's friends were there and they seemed to be having a great time.

"One shot of patron please!" You felt ridiculous, peering over a dozen heads just to hand the bartender your debit card. He swiped it, the price outrageous for one shot, but at least tequila was handed to you with a complementary slice of  lime. You carried it across the room, carefully balancing the glass as not to spill its content. But that's when you felt your phone buzz in your purse, forcing you to down the shot right where you stood, before answering the call.

"Hello, mom?" You exited the club just to get away from the noise. However, no one was heard on the other end of the line, or at least they weren't saying anything.

"Emmy?" A feeling in your gut told you that it was her and when a low sniffle sparked in your ear, you just knew. "Oh Emmy."

"Auntie Y/N, can you please come and get us?"

"Sweetie, you know I can't do that. We've been over this." 

The children lived with your parents in Bournemouth now and they were expected to start school soon. You often called to check on them, no doubt missing having them around.

"I wanna live with you and Uncle Ruben."

"Baby, I know you do." You crossed the street, a Seven Eleven up ahead. There you took a seat by a table near a window, with a view of the club and the many people fighting to get in. "We promise to come visit you in the summer." You said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

"But summer is so far away." She cried. A squeal that cut like knives in your ear.

"I'm so sorry Emmy,  but you and your brother are going to have to get used to it down there with Grandma and Grandpa. At least until your dad feels better." Or better yet, check himself out of rehab. Turns out that Liza's husband had struggled with alcohol addiction for most part of his life. However, your sister had never mentioned anything about it to you before. It was not like her. Nevertheless, Emmy and Vale's dad was not allowed to see them until he had gone through a rehabilitation program, completing it.

"Auntie Y/N...." 

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I miss mommy."

Your heart ached. A painful throb. However, you had to compose yourself. For Emmy. "I miss her too." You spoke with no air in your lungs. All of you empty. "So much."

"I have to go to bed now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight baby. Talk to you—" The line went flat before you could finish the sentences. A silent beat drumming in your ear.....

Read full chapter and more on my Patreon