#bbygrl you got it BAD

[bloodfreak-boyking]

sam "thirsty for his brother in every timeline" winchester

[whxre-bxby]

I wish people would write more soft romantic fics like you do, you write it really well!

Thank you bbygrl lemme give u a kiss <3 here's round two

"Hopelessly Devoted To You"

Masterlist

Summary: The RDA has a capacity issue and the recom's have been kicked out of their accommodations. When Quaritch says you're sharing a room with Lyle, it seems to bother him. You don't understand why so you confront him and eventually one thing leads to another and he's confessing his love to you.

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, little bit of angst, fingering, oral f. receiving, dirty talk, bad language, penetration, bonding (tsaheylu), arguing

Word Count: 6137

"Hopelessly Devoted To You" (From Grease) - Olivia Newton-John

The RDA was recently having a little space crisis. A new spaceship of workers arrived on Pandora this morning and they were struggling to find accommodation for them. 

They were behind in building plans of expanding Bridgehead City and were now facing the consequences. 

While the recom team was one of the most important muscles of this entire place, the RDA still prioritised their human workers and we found out the hard way. 

After a long day of training and exploring the jungle, we came back to find our bags packed and in the hallway outside our rooms. As you can imagine, Quaritch wasn't having it one bit and he let all his rage out by yelling at Ardmore. 

She got so pissed she threatened to have us all start sleeping outside because we need twice as much space and different air. 

That shut Quaritch up because he wasn't going to have his best team sleep outside on Pandora. 

Luckily Ardmore didn't let her conflict with the Colonel influence her decision of where we sleep too much. She let us take rooms which were located further away from the centre of Bridgehead and we were on our way there right now. 

The recom team walked through hallways, jet runways and large storage facilities to reach the specialised rooms. Quaritch was leading the way while we all followed. I walked with slumped shoulders, dragging my bag behind me. Z dog yawned and it made me drop my head and yawn too. 

I noticed how others would always take precautions when we passed. Sure we were 3 times their normal size but it was a little silly. Then again I enjoyed walking past them, knowing everyone except people like Ardmore are intimidated by us. Maybe she is too. 

Finally, the exhausted team arrived at the Na'vi-designed rooms, filled with Pandora's air. 

We stopped and the Colonel turned around and sighed, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. 

I leaned against a wall, dropping my bag by my feet and closing my eyes for a few seconds. 

"Alright squad, listen up." The Colonel spoke and I opened my eyes, trying to give him all the attention I had left. 

"I hate to do this to you, especially after such a rough day..." 

I hold my breath, eyes opening a little more just to make sure I'm hearing him properly. Oh god, bad news. Did some of us have to sleep outside? I would rather take the hallway. 

"But since we are dealin' with a space problem-" he sighs, taking a deep breath to break the news to us. 

"...some of you are sharin' rooms." 

My eyes widen, but I am a little relieved that we are not sleeping outside or that our rooms don't have a roof or a mattress. 

"Because my day has been as bad as yours I picked the names at random. Alright startin' with..." Quaritch spoke, naming soldier after soldier and whether they shared a room or whether they were alone and also which room they had. 

Everyone's name had been called up except Lyle and me. While others were already walking off and high-fiving, Lyle and I waited with perked ears. 

And yes we both noticed the way the Colonel avoided eye contact with us. It made me dread to hear the words he was about to say. 

He sighed, pinning his ears back and re-reading his list again. 

"Wainfleet. Y/N. You're sharin' a room." He said, glancing at us for a split second before grabbing his own bag. Of course, he had his own room

I just blankly stare at him for a few seconds. But it’s not such a big deal to me. I didn’t really mind.

Lyle however didn’t seem happy and I wasn’t sure whether I should make fun of his silly behaviour or whether I should be offended. 

Lyle was looking at the Colonel as if head lost his mind. 

“Sir- sir! You can’t be serious.” he said, calling after Quaritch who was retreating to his own room. 

“Very serious Corporal.” Quaritch said, getting his keys without even looking at Lyle. I’m just standing there and watching. I had the keys in my hand but I wanted to see what Lyle was doing. 

“But-” 

“We’re on a deadly planet here Wainfleet. If your biggest concern is sharin‘ a room with one of your most trusted soldiers, I’m gon’ start thinkin’ you ain’t suitable for this mission.” Quaritch warned, turning to Lyle and glaring at him. 

That did it, that shut him up. 

Quaritch stared him down for a few seconds before giving me an apologetic nod and going into his room, leaving Lyle standing outside in silence. 

I shrug it off, walking down the hall to find our room number. It’s not that far down and I reach it quickly, taking the small keys I was given and unlocking it. I can feel Lyle watching me but I don’t want to say anything to him. 

Was I so bad to share a room with? Does he secretly hate me that much?

I heard him pick up his own bag and follow me while I had unlocked the room, flicking the light switch on. 

It really wasn’t a nice room but I didn’t complain, walking inside. 

Lyle arrived at the door. 

“Wow, what a shithole.” he mumbled, looking around before closing the door behind him. I don’t answer. 

I enter what is meant to be the bedroom and freeze. This was going to be complicated. 

Lyle walked up behind me and was met with the same sight. 

“No fuckin’ way.” he groaned out in frustration while both of us looked at the double bed. 

“I could kill the Colonel right now.” he muttered, seeming very agitated. Lyle was starting to already get on my nerves. 

“I don’t think so.” I mumble, walking to one side of the bed and putting my bag next to it. 

He picked up my words and noticed the tone I used. 

“What’s up with you? You on your period or somethin’?” he asked and I rolled my eyes. No fucking way did he just ask me that. 

“No, you moron.” I answer a little louder this time while unzipping my bag. Lyle stays standing where he is. 

“What then?” he asked, completely oblivious to how he’s been complaining. 

“Is it such a big deal to share a room?” I ask, putting my hands on my waist while my ears are tipped back, clearly showing my annoyance. His own ears flatten when he realises I’m mad at him. 

“Am I that bad?” I ask, looking at him before returning to unpack my clothes. 

Lyle looks dumbstruck for whatever reason. 

“No, no of course not it’s not that.” he says, trying to save himself but I’m already pissed. 

“What is it then?” I snap back and he seems taken aback by my words.

“Oh right, you’re not mature enough to share a fucking room.” I add with a scoff and now he looks mad too. But he doesn’t say anything. 

“Don’t talk to your superior like that.” he says after a minute and I almost laugh. 

“Yeah right, superior my ass you’re not suitable to be a Corporal if you can’t grow the fuck up.” 

I did feel like I was crossing the line with my words a little but I couldn’t seem to stop. My bag is thrown from the bed by me and I grab my toiletries and towel to go shower. I can’t even look at him he’s gotten me so mad. 

Lyle stares me down when I walk past him and into the shower, quickly closing and locking the door behind me. 

Not even five minutes in and I needed a break. 

….

I sigh, taking in a deep breath before putting my hand on the door handle of the bathroom. 

Lyle and I had an odd relationship and it seemed to always change. Sometimes we avoided each other. Other times it felt like we were the best of friends. Once, I thought I felt a connection with him and genuinely thought he might end up being my boyfriend. That’s how much has happened between us. We never did anything. The highest point of things we’ve done together was hugs and flirting. I fell asleep on him once too, but that was it. 

During the flirting phase, he once looked at me like I was all that mattered to him. A look you would see in movies with eyes twinkling and all that. I thought I was in love with him but the next day, he went back to barely acknowledging me and we started from the beginning of the cycle again. 

A week ago, we were at the close friends stage once again and I was happy around him. When Quaritch announced the rooms I thought Lyle and I would high-five each other too but seems like he had other plans. 

My heart is racing as I try to collect myself before stepping outside. I open the door and walk out in my so-called pyjamas. It was a pair of shorts and a loose old shirt which… actually used to belong to Lyle. 

He’s laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling but his head tilts over to me when I exit the steamy bathroom. 

“Took ya long enough.” he said and his tone was no longer annoyed. But damn did his sentence still annoy me. 

“Miss me that bad?” I ask, surprising myself with the words that slipped from my mouth. I wanted to actually throw an insult at him but this worked too I guess. 

He seems to be amused by what I said and rolls to his side to look at me, who has walked to my side of the bed again. 

“Maybe… Buttercup.” he replies and I can tell he was thinking about whether he should risk calling me that or not. 

I glare at him, flattening my ears back again before I return my attention to packing away the shit I took out before. 

“Oh come on, you used to like me callin’ you that.” he said and I took a deep breath to control myself and not snap at him. He was so confusing it frustrated me. Suddenly, he hates me and now it’s as if he’s forgotten how he was complaining before. 

“Yeah, back when you weren’t a dick.” I say. Oops, maybe the self-control faltered for a split second.

Lyle’s ears perked up. He was surprised by my mouth again. 

“When did I become one?” he asks with a small chuckle. Great, now he thinks it’s funny. 

“Maybe when you decided that I was such a bitch you can’t share a room with.” I say, turning my head over my shoulder but not looking at him. 

“Or when you don’t talk to me the day after we were finally having fun together again.” 

Lyle stays quiet while I just angrily refold my clothes. I hear the bed creek and Lyle get up and somehow I secretly hope he is walking to me to give me a hug. If he would I would probably break down. 

But no, I hear him gather his things and he leaves the room, closing the bathroom door behind him with a thud. 

“Sure, just walk away. Not like I matter to you.” I mumbled under my breath. I was feeling all sorts of emotions and to be completely honest, if I were completely alone right now I would just cry myself to sleep. 

Mainly because I was angry and when I get angry my eyes tear up. I was sad because he didn’t treat me like the friend I was to him but I was also sad because… I don’t think I want to just be his friend anymore. I was attracted to Lyle and I hated myself for it. 

Every time we got close and he pushed me away again, I swore to myself that that would be the last time it happens. But each time he comes back and is all friendly and kind again, I can’t help but accept him. 

I sit on the bed with my legs and arms crossed while in deep thought, listening to the running shower water coming from the bathroom.

The door opens minutes later and Lyle steps out. I snap out of my thoughts and glance at him. 

He’s just wearing the loose shorts that he sleeps in. His torso is bare and speckled in water droplets. 

I rip my gaze from him, not wanting him to see but Lyle smirked to himself because he noticed my lingering eyes. 

I stared down at my feet as Lyle sat on the bed next to me. 

He too was thinking and then his ears perked forward as he thought of an idea. Teasing you or doing things to get you to laugh were good ways of getting your attention and having you talk to him. 

He wasn’t good at starting conversations so he needed you to talk, even if it was scolding him. He was able to mostly turn the conversation in a positive direction but it had to start. 

He picked up his dirty sock and tossed it to you.

I saw the sock fly towards me and it landed on my legs. Immediately I sat up, grimacing a little. It wasn’t disgusting because the sock was only a day old and it didn’t look dirty but I wanted him to know I didn’t think it was funny. 

“Ew Lyle, why would you do that?” I complain, scrambling to my feet. 

“Do what?” he asked, trying to suppress a laugh. 

I snatch the sock from the bed, grabbing for my bag to get my own dirty clothes and throw the whole pile on him but I only now notice it's gone. 

“Wha- where’s my-” I start before my head shoots to Lyle who is avoiding eye contact. He didn’t expect such a reaction and he was a little scared of what you would do now. 

“Lyle I swear to god-” I start almost shouting while I stomp over to his side of the bed. I can see my bag hidden next to his nightstand and I want to go and grab it back. I throw the sock back on him but suddenly he is scrambling up to his feet and he’s in my way. 

“Wait Y/N-” he says and his hands reach for me but I dodge them as if they were sharp and take steps back. The last thing I needed was him holding or touching me. I would as I said break down. His arms found mine but I wriggled it out of his grasp with fast movements.

Quickly I start walking away and retreating back to my side but Lyle is quicker and when I reach the foot of the bed his arms encircle my body, preventing me from taking a step further. 

They tighten and wrap around my middle, pulling me against him. I freeze in my movements and all the muscles in my body tense. 

I can’t give in. It’s happened too many times. 

He’s holding me against him while I keep my eyes clenched closed. 

“Y/N I’m sorry…” he softly says, his breath fanning against the skin near my ear. 

I shakily exhale after hearing his words, turning my head away from him. He can see how much I’m fighting him. 

“I know I’ve been an idiot.” he says and I fight the urge to aggressively nod. Instead, my ears once again strain all the way back and my tail stops moving. 

“Please talk to me.” he almost whispered and I picked up a hint of sadness in his voice. 

His arms loosened around my waist and fell to his sides. I turned around and took a step back to create at least a little bit of distance between us. 

Lyle watches me, finally letting us lock eyes. His gaze softens when he notices how glossy mine have become. 

“Why do you do it?” I ask, internally cursing myself when my voice becomes shaky. 

He knows exactly what I mean because he looks away in shame. I’m helplessly staring at him, needing to hear some kind of answer. 

Lyle sighs before speaking. “I was trying to keep things professional…” he says and his voice is now gravelly. 

“Professional? By constantly pushing me away?” I ask, trying to make sense of it all. Then again I was glad he was such a forward and bold person. He wouldn’t usually dance around things, he says what’s on his mind.

His sad eyes meet mine and his look answers my question with a yes. 

“You heard the Colonel. You’re one of our best soldiers. I don’t wanna screw it up for either of us.” he says. I don’t know how to answer that. 

“You’re one of my… best soldiers.” Lyle adds. This cheesy asshole. Somehow it‘s working.

“How would our friendship ever screw it up?” I ask, thinking he’s talking about us being friends. 

He gazes deep into my eyes as if he were searching for something to tell him I didn’t mean what I just said. 

“It wouldn’t be the friendship doin’ that.” he faintly replies. There it is again. That look. He’s doing it right now, looking at me with big eyes as if I were everything in the world. It’s making my heart warm up and my knees weak. 

“Lyle, what are you talking about?” I ask, wondering whether he means what I’m thinking. 

He straightens his posture a little, looking up at the ceiling for a second to steady himself in reality before taking a deep breath and locking eyes with me again. He seems to zone out a little while staring at me.

“I’m so in love with you…” he whispers. His ears droop and his body slumps a little in defeat. As if he too has been trying to fight the feeling and deny it but now it’s won and he told you. 

I just stare back at him and my lips part in an attempt to say something but no words come out. His words shock me but I can tell by the way he is looking at me that he means them. 

“I’ve been trying to hide it but every time I do that I can see it hurts you,” he continues talking, confessing all his feelings to me and somehow I am grateful for that because I am currently speechless. 

“And I don’t want to be doin’ that anymore. I want this,” he says, pointing between him and me “to be more than just friends.”

“I’m sorry…” he adds when my silence becomes unbearable for him. “I just needed you to know.” 

His gaze flickers between me and the ground. Lyle is clearly nervous and his anxiety is eating him from the inside out right now while he awaits my response.

He’s expecting a clear rejection because he thinks you only want to be friendly with him.

“You moron.” I say in disbelief with a scoff. Lyle flinches a little at my words, now fully staring at the ground.

All the worrying and crying I’ve gone through, all because he was suppressing his feelings for me. 

“I thought you hated me.” I say and a look of confusion floods his sad face. 

He looks up at me with a glimpse of hope and when I reach for his dog tag and pull him down a little, his eyes widen and his ears perk up. 

I pull him to me, eliminating the space between us and pressing our lips together. 

For a few seconds, Lyle doesn’t move. It hasn’t fully loaded in his head yet that I’m kissing him. 

Once he replays what just happened, he deepens the kiss and his arms are once again around me, pressing me right up against him. 

We pull away and just stare at each other. A huge smile finally brightens Lyle’s face and he’s laughing. It makes me smile too. 

“No fucking way.” he says, looking at me in disbelief. “You’re into me?” he asks, suppressing another laugh. He needs one last confirmation before he can feel relieved from the stress. 

“I know, it’s bad.” I say with a grin, teasing him. 

“Come on, just say it properly so I know.” Lyle pleads. 

I take a deep breath. “Corporal Lyle Wainfleet, my attraction to you has been the cause of my lack of sleep this month and the month before. Maybe even the month before that.” 

I’m smiling like an idiot at him now too. “Yes, I love you dumb ass.” 

“Fuck princess, you don’t know how happy you make me.” he replies, his huge smile spreading across his entire face before he pulls me into him once again for a kiss. This time I wrap my hands around his neck and his arms start running all over my body. He’s gripping my waist, squeezing my hips and finally allowing one of his hands to test the waters and rest on my ass. 

I break the kiss by laughing and it makes him chuckle. 

“What?” he asks, wondering what’s so funny. 

“I really thought you didn’t like me and here you are so desperate for me.” I joke and he sheepishly grins. 

“I couldn’t get you outta my head since the day we woke up like this.” he said, referring to our resurrection on Pandora. 

I smile, looking down for a brief moment when I feel my cheeks start to heat up. 

“Shut up, that’s so cheesy.” I say with a breathy laugh, poking him in the chest. It seems to just spur him on. 

Lyle’s mission is now to get you as flustered as possible.

“I’ve dreamed about you too, no kidding.” he said and I shake my head, pretending like I don’t want to hear it. 

“They weren’t always workplace-appropriate dreams either.” he says, leaning down and smirking at me.

“Oh my god.” I say, clutching my reddened face in my palms.

“Don’t hide yet I’m not done.” he chuckles, gently pulling my hands from my face. 

“Sometimes, when I’m in the shower…” he starts talking and I know this is going in a very bad direction. “... or when I’m alone in my room at night…” Oh god, help me please. “I touch-” 

“Okay! Okay!” I say, my face completely flushed. 

“What’s wrong, you embarrassed?” he coos, teasing me. 

“Never.” I say, accepting the challenge. I was never bold with my words so I was going to unleash the dirtiest hell on him and shock him.

“Sometimes…” I say, grinning and tiptoeing my fingers up his bare chest. His grin slowly retreats and he watches me. 

“When I finger myself…” I say, sounding as seductive as possible. Boom, just like that all teasing and smiling was flushed away and gone from Lyle. He was completely shocked by my words and could not believe I was saying that. 

“I push them in as deep as possible… and I imagine it’s you doing it.” I whisper and watch as Lyle gets literal goosebumps. His mouth also happens to be hanging open a little. 

“And I think of how you would feel like inside me.” I say, slyly smiling up at the dumbstruck blue marine. 

He can’t believe it. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Lyle curses, adjusting his shorts and my smile turns into a grin. “Don’t stop.” he says and it sounds very desperate. 

“When I cum, I moan your name.” I add and he groans at my words, not taking his eyes off me for even a second. I can’t remember the last time I saw him blink. He isn’t blushing either because Lyle just rarely gets embarrassed but my words definitely affect him more. 

“But I’ve been so stressed lately, I haven’t been able to help myself anymore.” I say, faking a sad and helpless voice which seems to really do it for him. 

“Since I sometimes think of you… I think I need some help.” I say, tracing my fingertip down his chest muscle. 

“Only sometimes?” he asks in a joking manner, playfully raising an eyebrow. 

I grin, knowing just how to get under his skin. “Mhm. Sometimes it’s someone else.” 

His grin drops. “Take that back.” he says and I’m biting my lip to hold back laughter. 

“Make me.” I say, knowing that will trigger the right things in Lyle. 

It does.

“Oh I will.” he says, tugging me by my arm and pushing me back onto the bed. I fall back, bouncing down on the mattress before looking up at him. He’s towering over me and I scoot backwards, trying to create a distance between us again but this time he won’t let it happen. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good your legs will stop workin’.” Lyle says and I gasp when he tugs me back. 

My stomach twists in excitement and anticipation of what he has planned. 

He glides his hands up and along my legs, fumbling with the hem of my shirt and grinning. 

“You look good in my clothes.” he says and I smile. 

“I always wear this when I think of you.” I say, trying to make him hornier. 

“Oh you’re in for it now.” he says, with dilated pupils and a grin. 

“Can I?” he asks for permission to remove my clothes. 

“Yes, sir.” I say, making him smile. He pulls my shorts down my legs, leaving my bottom half bare in front of his predatory eyes. 

“Fuckin’ hell… you don’t know how much I’ve dreamed of this.” he says, not taking his eyes off my pussy. 

My cheeks heat and I try to close my legs to shield myself from his prying stare but he won’t let it happen. His hands push my legs open again and hold on beneath my thighs. 

Lyle is kneeling by the edge of the bed, leaning against the mattress as he pulls me closer to him. One of my legs rests on his shoulder and he gives it a kiss, before slowly kissing down my inner thigh. 

When he nears my crotch he inhales and the next time he opens his eyes, I can almost only see his dark pupils. 

He can’t wait or waste a second more. It looks so inviting to him and your scent has become irresistible. 

Lyle leans his head down and sticks his tongue out. He flattens it out and licks a long stripe from my hole to my clit. I gasp, balling my hands into fists. 

Such a small action had me already feeling this good. 

“Oh fuck-” I breathily whimper and Lyle wishes he could savour those noises forever. 

He needs to hear more and he can’t fight the urge to taste you anymore. 

Lyle buries his face into my cunt, tightening his grip around my thighs so that I can’t escape. 

I squeak in surprise while my mouth falls open. He starts fully eating me out, licking and sucking on everything he can access. 

I arch my back off the bed, already feeling high off of him. 

“Lyle-” I mewl and he growls against my heat. I know I won’t last long because I’ve been longing for his touch for a long time already. 

His tongue is flicking over my clit and he lets go of my thigh with one hand, slowly pushing a finger into me. I gasp, clasping my hand over my mouth so that I don’t accidentally scream. 

Luckily the walls here were thick for once.

He pushes it in, thrusting it in and out for a while before adding a second finger. 

God, it feels so much better when he does it. 

The feeling of penetration mixed with the stimulation of my clit has me whining and whimpering incoherent words.

I try to suppress my pleasure a little, just so that I can last longer and extend this euphoric feeling. That plan goes to shit once Lyle starts purring. His chest is rumbling and The vibrations go through his tongue which is pressed against my most sensitive area. 

“Fuck- Lyle I’m gonna-” I say, unable to stop the approaching orgasm. He doesn’t stop, in fact he deepens his actions making me clench my thighs around his head. 

My orgasm hits me like a brick and then I’m falling apart while Lyle is fingering the life out of me. 

My chest is heaving and I manage to open my eyes again, remembering where I am. Lyle pulled away, resting his arms on my trembling legs and giving me a shit-eating grin. He licked his lips while keeping his eyes firmly locked with me and I sighed. 

“Was that how you imagined it?” he asks, teasing me. I scoff. 

“Better. So much better.” 

He grins. “Good, we’re not done yet.” he says, climbing onto the bed and over me. He helps me scoot up so that my head is laying on the pillow while hovering above me. 

“God you look so good.” I mumble, feeling up his bare chest. My common sense was gone. I was still recovering from my intense orgasm so I could only confess every thought that came to mind while looking at Lyle with half-lidded eyes. 

“Look at you, buttercup. Fuckin’ goddess. I don’t even know how I managed to pull you.” he says with a smile, slowly inching my shirt up. I know he took my compliment to heart though. He would prefer me saying he looked hot or that his body was toned rather than being told his eyes are beautiful. He wasn’t the poetic romantic type. 

I lift myself off the bed a little and he pulls my and his shirt over my head, throwing it down next to the bed. 

When his eyes meet my bare chest he becomes weak. 

“I’m fallin’ asleep on those.” he said as if he were reserving my breasts, unable to tear his eyes from them.

I chuckle. “I didn’t know you were a ‘titty’ man.” 

He grins, kissing my cheek. “I’m a ‘you’ man.”

I giggle before he starts peppering kisses from my collarbone and onto my chest. He sticks his tongue out and flicks it over a nipple. 

I wouldn’t have expected it to feel good but it oddly did and it made me arch my back off the mattress and into him. Lyle’s other hand came up and groped my other breast before massaging it. 

My heavy breaths have Lyle struggling to control himself. 

The straining of his shorts is becoming painful, so he rids himself of the remaining clothes he has on. 

“Holy fuck.” I say, shamelessly just staring at his erection. I knew it would be bigger but this was massive. Compared to me as well. I would probably struggle to take him. 

He grins and moves back over me. This time, his braid falls over his shoulder and onto my chest with a small thud. 

It reminds me of something and the same idea seems to be in his head. 

We exchange looks and he smiles. “Do you wanna try it?” he asks. 

I reach for my own one, examining it for a few seconds.

“Sure, I just don’t quite know how it works…” I say. 

“Me neither.” he chuckles. We mess around with them a little until I open the end of my braid and watch the small nerves move around. Lyle watches mine before mirroring what I did. Once he revealed his own cord we just followed our natural instincts and held them together. Before they even touched, the little tentacles were reaching for eachother. Now they are entangled and become one. 

I saw white light for a good few long seconds and my senses seemed to strengthen and expand. I managed to feel a part of Lyle and I could tell he felt the same with me. 

Without further ado, we followed what nature told us to do. We couldn’t wait any longer. Both of us have needed this for so long, the release was so close, we couldn’t lose another second. 

Lyle parted my legs again, pressing his hips in between them. I held onto his shoulder with one hand while resting one leg on his lower back.

He lined himself up with me, pressing the tip of his leaking cock against my dripping heat. I clenched my jaw in anticipation and then Lyle finally pushed his hips forward, fully entering me. I was so lubricated that he slid in with ease, stopping once he bottomed out just to relish in the feeling. 

I drop my head back, finally feeling like my needs were being fulfilled. 

“God damn, buttercup you’re so tight ‘round me.” he groaned, closing his eyes for a few seconds. 

“Please move.” I whine, desperately needing to feel more of him.

I don’t need to tell Lyle twice. He’s pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in with long and precise strides. Each time he jolts forward a new wave of pleasure shoots through me. He leans down, wanting to be close to me. 

Our lips crash together and we heavily make out while Lyle continues to fuck himself into me. After a few minutes, we are breathing so heavily that we have to break the kiss. We just rest our foreheads against each other, our hot breath fanning against the other's face. 

“So good.” I whimper, closing my eyes while Lyle rubs his cheek against mine. 

He’s speeded up a little, starting to rut his hips against mine, trying to force himself further into me with each thrust. 

Lyle hits a spot inside me that makes my body jolt in ecstasy and since we are bonded, he feels it too. Quickly, he rearranges his hips and starts to relentlessly pound into me while groaning and hissing. 

This feels so much better than I could have ever imagined. 

Lyle’s thrusts are becoming a little sloppy but I don’t blame him because I’m close to another orgasm again. 

“Lyle, too much… I can’t-” I whimper, still sensitive from the previous one. 

“Come on baby, one more f’ere me.” he grunts, encouraging me. I can’t answer because my mouth is falling open. 

He feels how I’m slowly starting to clench even more around him. “That’s it Buttercup, let go.” he whispers, kissing my neck. I nod, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him in. 

Lyle growls, speeding up a little more just before he pushes me over the edge and I swear I can see stars. My pussy’s walls clench down around him and Lyle only manages to thrust into me a few more times before spilling his load deep into me. 

He moans, clenching his eyes closed and biting down on my shoulder. His fangs sink just beneath my skin but I’m so overwhelmed by my orgasm it doesn’t even hurt. 

After a few moments, my legs loosen and fall off of him. Lyle stops desperately grinding into me and he drops his head into the crook of my neck. I wrap my arm around him and he gently lays himself down on me. 

Our heavy breaths mix and after a few minutes he scoots down a little lower so that his head is in fact lying on my breasts. Lyle gently pulls out of me in the process and I chuckle at his behaviour while he shoots me a cheeky smile. 

“You’re mine now.” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me. I smile, tracing the stripes on his head. Our braids disconnected but I felt more connected to Lyle than I ever have before. 

“No one else gets to have you.” He said, tracing his hands down my hips before returning to just holding me again.

“I don’t have a problem with that.” I smile and he chuckles. 

“Say it again. How you feel about me.” he says, looking up. I’m not quite sure what he means. 

“I need to hear it once more before I fall asleep.” he says. Oh, of course. 

“I love you, Lyle.” I whispered, cradling his cheek. He looks relieved as if he were still somehow worried I would have changed my mind. 

“I love you more. And I’ll take care of you.” he said with a grin. I smile in return before my eyelids become heavy. 

The Na’vi body seemed to be able to fall asleep much easier. 

Lyle did in fact sleep on my chest for most of the night. However, he made sure and waited that I fell asleep first before he closed his eyes. 

He felt protective of me now and even though there was no current danger, he was passionate about caring for me.

I wonder how things will be between us after this. We still work together, meaning we might have to keep this relationship secret.

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Yay request are open!!! How do we feel about a one shot where König constantly refers to the reader with German pert names without telling them what they mean? After a while they start to think König is making fun of them in German because whenever they confront him he gets all flustered. Maybe a fluffy ending where König confesses his feelings after the reader confronts him and asks what she did to make him make fun of her!

Ahhh this is so cute!! I love it!!! (tagging @konig-is-bbygrl bc könig is in fact bbygirl)

You were acting as a liaison between the 141 and KorTac in an attempt to get the two teams to cooperate on the field in the future. They chose you because you had good interpersonal skills, you followed orders well, and you met and exceeded expectations. That and you pulled the short straw. It was either that or send Ghost and that would’ve made matters worse, you love him but it’s the one department he lacks tact.

You were a little nervous, sure, but the team was pretty welcoming. Particularly the veiled giant, who you learned was König, he stuttered a bit at times and maybe spoke too fast when he got a little nervous or enthusiastic but you thought it was cute.

And then you’d get sent out together, and for a while you felt like you worked well together, communicated clearly and efficiently, and you were able to complete your missions with little to no incident. You’d fire off a joke or two over comms, exchange stories while waiting for evac in a safe house, you had a good thing going. But the more you got sent out together, the stranger his compliments became;

“Good shot, liebling.”

You laughed hesitantly at the compliment, it was a compliment, right?

“Keep your head low, schatz.”

You thanked him but the word turned over on your head over and over, was that an insult? It was at this moment you regretted taking French in college instead of German, you have yet to even see a French word in a context not involving food. When you met up at the RV point, the question has been sitting on your tongue for a while now, tainting the peaceful symbiosis you’ve created with König. You were in the safe house waiting for your next orders, he was sharpening his knives and you stood by the window. It was now or never.

“Hey, what do those words mean?” Your question cut the silence,

“Hm? Sorry?” He looked up at you from his seat at the table,

“It’s just, whenever you’ve told me something, you end the sentence with a word in German.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched his eyes widen for a split second before he quickly looked back down at the knife in his hands,

“Oh! Ah, well that, um, don’t worry about it, süße.” You’ve heard him stutter and occasionally trip on his words, but he was still direct with you. This was different, and it put a bad taste in your mouth. To add insult to injury, he’d used another word in German. He’s not… making fun of you, is he? It made your chest ache painfully, you suddenly felt like a fool for thinking you were actually getting along.

“Oh, ok, I guess.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the window. The tension was palpable, you felt like you were drowning. You shook your head, focus, dumbass. This isn’t the time for that. It wasn’t too long after that, thank god, you got your orders and went to your posts. It all kept running in loop, all your interactions, all your jokes, all the laughs, all the quiet moments together, was he just being nice? Is he getting fed up with you but he doesn’t know how to tell you and he’s just casually adding insults to every sentence?? No, come on, that’s ridiculous.

“I’ve marked two soldiers on your path, maus.”

Did he just fucking call me a mouse?

Petty bastard. You clenched your jaw, the dread settling in your gut had quickly turned into anger. As soon as you were finished here, you’d pack your bags and head back to your boys, but not without giving the giant asshole a piece of your mind (and Price but that’s beside the point). The thing is though, you couldn’t wait until you were back at base. As soon as the chaos had died down and you met back up at the safe house, you let him have it,

“Good work out there, liebling.” König praised as you walked into the safe house, that was the final straw. You threw your gear on the table and leveled him with a glare, heart racing, adrenaline pumping through your system,

“Ya know, you’ve got some nerve, König.”

Not good.

“This entire time, I thought we were getting along really well and I don’t know what happened or what I did… I mean, fuck for a moment I…” the words died in your mouth, too scared to breathe life into them because then this confrontation would hurt all the more. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves,

“If I did something wrong, I’d rather you tell me instead of insulting me in a language you know I don’t understand.”

Oh fuck.

“Insult you? Schatz, never, I- they’re not insults, I would never.” His heart was pounding in his ears, hands becoming sweaty, his veil suddenly too warm,

“Then what are you saying, König? What do the words mean?”

Oh fuck.

“I-I can’t say…” His eyes were darting everywhere but yours,

“Either you tell me right now, or this is the last time I’ll ever work with you.”

Fuck.

“It’s- they’re not- scheiße- they’re not insults, liebling, they’re-” he sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, “terms of endearment.” He said the last part so quietly, you almost didn’t hear him.

“Oh… well, that’s different. Why didn’t you say so when I asked the first time?” You walked to him, approaching him slowly, your tone significantly more gentle. His eyes flicked to yours for a split second before darting away again, and then it hit you. “Oh. I… think I understand now.”

But because König was so focused on looking away from you, he didn’t see the grin that split your face, or the blush that dusted your cheeks, or the beautiful sparkle in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, lieb- sergeant, it’s incredibly out of line and horrifically inappropriate, please try to put it out of your mind. I don’t know what I was thinking, I was so rude-”

“König, hey, please stop for just a second.” He didn’t realize you were right in front of him and almost died of the fright, lest his humiliation take him first. You stood up on the tips of your toes and held the sides of his face, angling him to look at you, giving him no room for escape,

“What if I don’t what to put it out of my mind?”

“Schatz, what are you saying?” His voice was trembling ever so slightly, his large hands coming up to encompass yours,

“I’m saying, maybe you can keep calling me terms of endearment because maybe I’d like to do the same for you.”

“Are you sure?” He was breathless, his heart was a booming thunderstorm in his chest as his hands so delicately took yours held them. His thumbs stroking over the knuckles, already committing every scar and every bump to memory. He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, lightheaded and dizzy in the most beautiful way possible.

“Never been more sure in my life.” Your smile was as blinding as the sun, and he’d never been more sure that everything in his life lead up to this exact moment. It didn’t matter that you were with the 141 and that eventually you had to go back, it didn’t matter that you were out in the field hunkered down in a safe house, nothing else mattered but you.

[vidavalor]

Hey lovely.

Had a bit of a rabbit hole about Cheneval wine I thought I'd share.

I was thinking about Aziraphale's bad French and possibly one of the reasons he was so confused is because in 1760 due to a lot of political and economic unrest, mainly peasants but a lot a lot of people were moving around France in search of work and new opportunities/conditions. This led to a lot of…shall we say melanging of regional dialects but also a lot of encountering colloquials and variations in language which could make things quite confusion. Encountering many slight variation in pronunciations and meanings can lead to a lot of stumbling and learning on the spot and confusion.

There was also, from the 1600s-1800s ESP a whole lot of France trying to take over neighbor kingdoms/countries. I'm not going to go into the history of the Kingdom of Holland, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland etc.

But suffice to say during this time there was a lot of French and French colloquialisms also melanging with neighboring Germanic languages.

Anyway long story short.

We've got some melanging.

Chene (where's my circumflex hmph) in French means Oak. Biblically Oaks represent strength of faith.

Val in French is Valley

Now.

One interpretation could be a valley, or a drop off, a lessening of faith.

In Dutch. Val means to fall. As in a devastating fall. The kind of fall of an Angel falling to Hell.

Chene can also colloquially/regionally/melangically in France, esp at that time, refer to variations on the words for "Chain" as well as "I don't" or "I'm not."

Which is great because you can turn that into some sort of nod to if you have strength in your faith you won't fall.

Or, it could mean you are connected/linked to someone who did fall.

Or. Also. Either a funny nod to "I didn't really fall..."

I find it interesting symbolism that Aziraphale did not accept that offer of a glass of wine from Crowley. But a somewhat easy refusal that matched those thousands of years of "you are fallen" and we can't be fraternizing because of our "jobs" with the "I'm at work."

It kind of mirrors the FF to me...like "stay here or run away just be with me," and the "I have to 'work' - you go inside / 'I have to work, come with me to Heaven.'

Which. To be honest. It's like. Aziraphale is doing all of this "work" to set up his ball so that he can, ultimately, try to get them out of their debacle with Heaven and Hell and confess his love to Crowley/be with Crowley.

And then he has to go to "work" in Heaven....also, ultimately, so he can stop the Heaven and Hell bullshit and be with Crowley.

But I like the sort of ambiguity of it all. I'm kind of attached to the idea that Crowley offering Aziraphale glass of wine is him offering that link/chain to Him/the fallen.

And even though Aziraphale doesn't take it....because he has things to do....Crowley holds onto it, consumes it, accepts that Aziraphale is being the responsible one trying to fix things, goes on to defend Aziraphale against Jimbriel....not being angry at Aziraphale for taking care of Jim so much as he is angry at the entire situation and taking it out on Jimbriel because Jimbriel represents the establishment, the whole damn Heaven/Hell bullshit, that Aziraphale is still trying to fix. Because let's be real. Crowley is having a hard time handling it/figuring out what to do. Bbygrl is just sitting there drinking. In FF wanting to run away to Alpha Centauri. Aziraphale is the one who's making the hard choice....having to give up the lovely romantic glass of wine dinner date so that he can fix things. Because nobody else is going to do it.

And the fact that he doesn't say 'No' to the glass of wine lmao. Just says "I'm at work." Sort of....I'm not refusing it per se, I'm telling you I have responsibilities / duties now.

Then the FF 'Tell me you said no' and no direct response to that from Aziraphale... Its the same thing. He never says "I don't want to." And I think the implication there is that he doesn't have a choice. Anyway. I'm not great at these. But that's where I got before I had to stop myself from going further down the rabbit holes.

Hi right back at you! 😍 Apologies for the long response time. OMG word nerdery in my inbox?! Is it Christmas?! This is such a treat! *bounces and rubs hands together* Let's do this! Oh, right, yes, snacks, of course! Kitchen's open. You clearly know your way around this blog so you're cleared to go through the fridge & have whatever strikes ya fancy. 😊

I love your thoughts & had fun doing some digging for a response. I've some more to add about word stuff related to oaks and some stuff about the Monsieur Rossignol scene that you might find interesting beneath the wonderful excuse you've given us for a Crowley-at-Marguerite's gif.

re: The French lessons in 1760-- I think you're correct about the melanging being why it's 1760 that Aziraphale chooses for year in this line. What you're talking about with the wild changes of language in the decades prior to that would definitely work with that. It shows the extent of Aziraphale's devotion to learning and making a study of French, in particular, that he took lessons-- and I do believe that he did actually take the lessons, despite what else I'm going to say about that scene.

There's always both the literal and the figurative/euphemistic layers in their speak, just as there is on the show as a whole. There's crepes and then there's crepes and there's sushi and there's sushi and I think the French lessons thing is that there were French classes and then there were French classes. Your melanging is likely why Aziraphale chose 1760 for the line but he's been, erm, making a study of French both long before and for ages since. Aziraphale took French lessons in 1760 but he also went to Monsieur Rossignol's night classes then and I'm pretty sure those are not exactly the same things. 😉

"You speak every language in the world. We both do."

Crowley is basically like: Angel, we both get off on words and speak every language on the planet, including the one we invented and flirt in constantly. Thoughts on why you're seducing me this morning en Francais? To which Aziraphale replies:

As others have pointed out, Rossignol is the French word for nightingale. The famous family of cryptographers who built the secret code that protected French state secrets for generations is the Rossignol family and they are the reason why the word doesn't just mean nightingale in French but also a skeleton key. In Good Omens, one of the skeleton keys to Crowley and Aziraphale's speak and to the use of language in general-- the master keys that unlock the other doors-- is nightingales. I call their speak Ineffable Husbands Speak in posts but nightingales appears to be basically their word for it.

I wrote a thing recently about how Aziraphale is using "Prof Hoff" in wordplay in 1941 to actually be referring to Crowley. I'm inclined to think he's doing the same thing in this scene with Monsieur Rossignol and that his Mr. Nightingale is Crowley. It's also a fun bit of gender-related humor because he refers to him as Monsieur Rossignol and their mentions night classes. 😊 Monsieur, literally translated in French, is also "my lord" and mmm hot blasphemy. As a bonus in there, the word class comes from a homophone to its plural-- the Latin classis-- which, along with the education definition, was a word related to sub-groups of people within ancient Rome.

Aziraphale said he learned "French" from Monsieur Rossignol "the hard way", which is both dirty and sweet, as, yeah, iit's a pretty basic erection joke, but also that hard is etymologically derived from and connected to both heard/to hear and heart. Hard/hear/heart in a sentence using Rossignol/nightingales and the two of them feels like it's referring to their spicy and romantic secret language💗 by way of referring to that time there was some linguistic melanging and Aziraphale really did have to take lessons in actual French-the-language, even as he was also spending some classy evenings frenching his rossignol. Long before frenching also became slang related to open-mouthed kissing, to french was euphemistic for oral sex. Devoted Francophile, the angel is.

re: the wine findings--

One thing I realized in thinking things through to respond to you is that I think we've both been spelling the name of the wine incorrectly. I blew up the gif of Crowley that I put in the top of the post and I think it's actually spelled Chenevel. The good news is that I don't think it actually changes your ideas about the words a lot and might just add a few things to them.

I love how you mentioned that chene (I can't do the accent mark on my Tumblr, either, but I know the word you're talking about) is oak in French. I can add a couple of things to that for you that you might find interesting. I also found oaks in 1941 and have had just this question mark next to it until you mentioned them in your message. That caused me to look at it a bit more and I remembered something interesting about the history of the word that I then confirmed & will put here. First, where the oaks come up in 1941, in case you're interested in that, too. It's in this bit:

When Aziraphale does the coin trick in the bookshop for Crowley, he presents both coins that are part of the trick-- a sixpence and a farthing. This scene is really meta-- Crowley's even making meta roleplaying jokes while roleplaying an audience-- and I had the feeling that some ties to nightingales were happening quite a bit in it so I was looking at the words pretty carefully. I had a hunch that looking at what is on those coins might prove interesting. I'm American and I don't really know a ton about British coin history (I'd wager there are plenty of British people who don't either lol) so I looked up what was on the farthing and the sixpence. The farthing made me smile a bit because it's a wren--the nightingale-wren-- but the sixpence was stumping me a bit for awhile because it was an oak.

I have been all around the block looking at symbolism of oaks and I had really nothing that was super-direct to Good Omens. Even the Biblical ties felt kinda meh. Everything was kind of "yeah, I guess, if you stretch it, that works" but the symbolism in this story is sharper than that so I got to a point where I was even wondering if this is something that is more set up for the future and would be better understood after S3. Then, I remembered the word history thing I'll share as I think it makes the oaks make more sense.

The word oak in Indo-European languages comes from the root base which evolved into the word tree. Basically, in these languages, etymologically, an oak is part of the root word for every kind of tree because it's part of the root word for the word tree itself. In this way, it's very similar to the word apple. A long time ago, people used the word apple kind of in the way that we use the word fruit today and the roots of types of apples and apple itself also contained the Greek word mela, which is also the basis of the word melon. Fruits were described in relation to apples-- so, dates were originally called fingeraeppla, literally: "finger apples", and so on. As a result, the names of a ton of different fruits are etymologically tied to the apple and the same is a bit true of how the word tree ties to the oak.

I did a post awhile back about the word costermonger, which is the old-timey name for a vendor in a street market, and how coster was a kind of apple so the word literally translates to "apple seller", even though, by definition, it refers to a seller of any kind of food in a marketplace. With etymology-based symbolism and the marketplace in S2? This makes all food in Good Omens, effectively, symbolic apples. So, we can apply the idea of the Serpent and the apple to literally everything that can be drunk or eaten in Good Omens and that would include this wine... but what does this have to do with oaks and trees?

It hit me the other day that, if oak = all trees, then the wordplay there has to do with the fact that to fell is the verb used to mean to cut down a tree. To "cut Down (Hell)" is a big part of why Aziraphale is Mr. Fell-- it's that he's Crowley's and de facto married to one of The Fallen and their relationship is felling Hell-- cutting down on its impact. So, the wine being the oak? The chene part of it being the tree? 🌳...

You mentioned that val in Dutch is a bad fall and this is where it both does and doesn't matter that we both spelled this wine incorrectly when we were first looking it up because if the rest is spelled -vel, as seems to be the case? Val and vel are apparently related in Dutch. The Dutch vel is not to fall but part of the origin of the word fell, in as in tree-related definition. Chenevel would then be a kind of mash up of French words forming a version of the English definition of to fell a tree, with the chene part referring to the tree and the vel referring to felling it. Chenevel = Fell. 😲

It's either a massive coincidence or one of them influenced a vineyard to adopt their name back in the day or they own a French winery together or who knows what but I think it's a French version of their name. The bottle is labeled 1938 so whatever happened here with the wine happened prior to that. 🍷💘

So, what might it mean that Aziraphale refuses a glass of the Chenevel wine? I agree with what you said about it being about Crowley offering a connection to him and that it wasn't like Aziraphale didn't want one but that he felt like he was "working." I don't see it as him really working, though, so much as just telling himself he was. Where we differ, I think, is that I actually think that refusing the wine was a bad, if understandable, call on Aziraphale's part. I see connections between Aziraphale refusing the glass of wine and him taking the coffee in the two, different conversations at Marguerite's. There's also that coffee convo at Marguerite's is when the restaurant is closed-- a hint to it not being a genuine offer, imo-- while Crowley is offering Aziraphale wine while being there when it, like Crowley, was open.

We have some different ideas on what's happening in the plot in the end of S2, in that your message indicates you believe that Aziraphale is about to be the Supreme Archangel, while I believe that he was tempted by Satan to fall in 2.06 and is about to be a demon in 3.01. Either way, though, I think he should have had a glass of wine with Crowley and for reasons that I think are in the same spirit of what you're saying-- Aziraphale wants to make things better. I just don't think that a job in Heaven or letting Heaven's actions determine how he lives his life is how he does that.

Crowley isn't completely in the right in S2, either. He's not talking to Aziraphale enough, especially about his Book of Life fears, and he winds up having too much to drink in the Marguerite's scene and after it, but what I don't think he was wrong about was that what would have made them both feel better, especially Aziraphale, and done more to solve what was happening, was for Aziraphale to quit running around tying his every anxiety to one another and building up this party into the meltdown it became but to, instead, sit with Crowley for awhile for a little date at the pretty French place, have a little wine, and talk.

They could see the bookshop door from where they were sitting and Gabriel was fine inside. Aziraphale hadn't been eating or drinking much of anything all week and he and Crowley hadn't had much time alone for days. I think the healthier thing would have been to have a glass of wine and talk. Aziraphale does at least sit down and flirt for a moment or two but he won't have a glass and take some time with Crowley for long enough to really talk about how he was feeling, which I think was what Crowley was going for.

How would this have solved the stuff going on with Heaven?

I think it does because, fundamentally, the only way to change Heaven is to be the change, and that means living life the way they want to, on their own terms. Aziraphale doesn't need to be the Supreme Archangel to change anything-- I'm not sure he actually would ever have the power to in that job. Aziraphale and Crowley making their own life on Earth is how they've already changed things and will continue to do so.

The way to take out the system is to refuse to take part in it. If enough people do, the system will collapse itself. There won't be a war if enough people refuse to fight it. In that way, the way for Aziraphale to deal with Heaven isn't to stress about what they're doing but to just live life. It's very understandable where his anxiety comes from and his concern about the danger but there's nothing he can do to fix it individually except to live the way he wants to because that is actually the most powerful thing anyone can ever do.

It's like dealing with abusive family or a corrupt church. How do you deal with it? You don't go to it anymore. You don't give it your time or your money. To the best of your ability, you don't give it the headspace it doesn't deserve. Instead, you live the way you believe is right. You live the way you want the world to be and try to support others who are doing the same. You keep the door open for those who want to escape and might need help but you keep it closed for those who seek to further oppress. Aziraphale is already saving Heaven. He gave Gabriel sanctuary. He gave Muriel an escape. He's made a life with Crowley that shows others that there is more to life than misery and waiting for war.

Most days, Aziraphale knows this but it's not easy and he's exhausted and depressed and going through all the things in S2 so he goes down a bad path with it but yeah. That's why I think it would have been better had he just sat down and split some Chenevel with Crowley. He became so convinced that he was Managing Heaven Stuff but he was really just spiraling a bit and refusing to let Crowley or anyone else in and it snowballed into disaster.

Aziraphale needs-- just for starters-- a long hug, a great meal, a great fuck, and seventeen straight hours of serpent-cuddled sleep. He'll be a little balmy until those goals are achieved so, probably, until the South Downs Cottage 😂 but, whatever actually happened to him in 2.06, he and Crowley will get back to smitten silliness soon, of that we can be certain. 😊

Thanks for the word fun & feel free to message anytime.

[ferg0s]

“the king and the princess,” baro shoei x reader

| baro is bbygrl, argue w a wall |

I don’t edit my stuff my bad for any spelling mistakes

When Ego introduced you, Baro thought it was some elaborate prank. A messed up joke. He was promised the one of the star goalies in this generation, but instead he was met face to face with a kid.

She wasn’t a kid. His age probably. But the accessories, the makeup, the clothes. She looked like a reject Barbie. The pink in her clothes made his eyes hurt, and the sparky makeup made his stomach turn. He couldn’t comprehend how someone could leave the house looking like that, and why no one else seemed to be bothered by it.

As Ego went on, listing achievement after achievement, the girl looked at everyone with a smile, the apples of her cheeks glowing.

Baro was disgusted. All is life he’s trained, kept a strict diet and workout regime, only to be presented a failed art project and he told its better than him. Pathetic. “It is woman’s league,” he thought to himself.

He refused to go near her, feeling some sort of sinking gut feeling whenever he saw her - he assumed it was his natural instincts telling him to stay away, like a animal spotting a poisoning dart frog, the vibrant colours warning it - trying his best to not comprehend the fact that maybe he was jealous. Jealous that someone can put so little effort into something and still come out on top. The world is a cruel unfair place, he thought she watched her walk into the cafeteria.

But despite avoiding her like the plague, he began to notice small details about her. How she looked disgusted eating the food every day. Looking over it seemed to be a very well balanced diet, albeit a little lacking in the flavour department, but something an athlete would definitely benefit from. How she’d always show up on the field with a face full of makeup, never managing to sweat it off - he was convinced she had it permanently put on her face at some point - and how even when everyone was relaxed, slacking and slouching, she always came dressed. Primed and polished. A part of him respected her commitment, her effort to stay clean, but a part found it unnatural.

The thing that really weirded him out was how she’s show up in fully body uniform. Only part that wasn’t covered was her face - if you don’t count the makeup- the goalie gloves, the uniform and the clothing under it. He found it off considering women usually don’t Cover as much - “it looks good, I’ll give her that,” he thought as he watched at the net.

He never stuck around to watch her play. He was a king, he didn’t have time for some princess.

It was 4am when Baros eyes opened. Natural alarm clock. He got up and began his routine. Shower, eat, stretch and then workout. He looked forward to his morning shower, because he knew that no one would disturb him. The rest didn’t wake up until an hour or two later. Grabbing his gear he headed towards the bathroom - the bathroom he assumed was for men since there was only men at blue lock - he walked in to find that the air was already moist and some light steam filled the bathroom.

Caught off guard by this, Baro began to look around for who was up so early, wondering if the rest of the boys had decided to step up. As he walked past the several shower stalls he passed by the main mirror in the bathroom, his eyes landing on an unfamiliar body. It was her. Hair wet, towel wrapped around her body as she stared at herself in the mirror. Baro froze. Wondering if he was in the wrong bathroom - but he had never noticed a male or female sign - and as he collected himself to go wait for her to be finished his eyes caught the glimpse of a dark spot on her calf.

Looking closely he realized it was a bruise. A bad one. His eyes wondered her form, realizing that is the first time he had ever seen anything past her face. Though she was turned around, he could see the multiple bruises and scratches across her body. Her legs covered, a bad scratch marks from some cleats going from the back of her calf to the front. Her arms weren’t any better. As she moved them around, they occasionally came into view, showing the damage on them. He couldn’t help but stare, awed at the sight before him. And then she turned around. She didn’t notice him, too busy fighting with a bottle in her hand. He saw her face. Her naked face. The eye bags were visible, something he’d never seen before. She looked… tired. After seeing her so lively, so energetic, it felt wrong seeing her with a somber, more quiet expression.

He leaned back against a shower stall, hiding himself. He watched her. For the first time since seeing her he finally realized that she was an athlete. Wrapping bandaged around herself, getting her uniform and putting it on. For a second before she reached in her makeup bag she looked… serious, scary almost. That was quickly changed when she began to apply her makeup. Her entire demeanour changed, her features became more soft, the athlete he saw before turned into a kindergarten gym teacher.

The finished look he once winced at felt more… endearing. It grew on him.

~

The next time he saw her was on the field, going some basic stretches.

“Oi,” he called out, her cocking her head towards him. “Try to block my shots,” Baro said. His way of extending an olive branch. The girl nodded and went over to the net, getting in position. Baro started off easy, even she could tell earning a “If you’re going to waste my time, fuck off,” from her. She didn’t play around, he liked that. But that soon turned into frustration when he actually began to try.. and still couldn’t get a goal in. It was like she read his mind before he could even kick the ball - by the end they were both panting. With all his might Baro aimed for the bottom left of the net, but yet again she was there and blocked the goal, with her face but still she blocked it. The loud slapping sound of the ball against her skin echoed across the field.

She remained motionless for a second. His face remained stoic, but inside he began to panic as she didn’t move, letting out a breath of relief when she began to sit up. That’s when he saw the imprint of the ball on her cheek. “That was good!” She chirped, excited. Standing up she rolled the ball back to Baro, who tried his best to ignore the half lipstick stain on the ball.

King or Princess. Royalty is Royalty. And there’s a reason you have that title.

[lovelybunn]

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧/𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

warning(s): none

author's note: most of these make no sense but idgaf

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡

childish gambino (IM TELLIN YOU, LEEEEEET MEEEE INNNNTO YOUR HEAAAAAART)

thundercat (i'm sitting here with a black hole in my chest. a heartless, broken mess)

frank ocean (i feel like he has slowed danced with kyle to "pink + white")

steve lacy (he most definitely sung one of this guy's songs for wendy)

nirvana

yung gravy

ㅤ

𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐢

billy idol (eyes without a face, got no human race, you're eyes without a faaace)

hall & oates (you're out of touch, i'm out of time–)

tears for fears

tame impala

empire of the sun (i want to sob everytime i hear "walking on a dream")

harry styles (you know it's not the same as it was..)

ㅤ

𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧

lady gaga (you knew i was gonna put this here, don't act like you didn't.)

kanye west (they're both narcissists, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

gwen stefani

shakira

katy perry

britney spears

ㅤ

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐤

the smiths (his curse reminds me of "bigmouth strikes again")

the garden (i saw an edit of dywane hoover with the song "thy mission" and i'm still living with this post.)

bryson tiller

tyler the creator

mgmt (picture kenny using a bong to "electric feel")

gorillaz (kenny skating to "dare"... YESSS)

ㅤ

𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡

mac demarco

her's

yot club (i feel like i care too much, when no one's at home for me...)

strawberry guy (i was listening to "without you" as i added this)

jack stauber (autism.)

bôa

ㅤ

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤

tv girl (are you sick of me? would you like to be?)

cafuné ("iiiiii waaaatch the mooooon~ let it run my mood, can't stop thinking ooof yooooou~")

strawberry guy

kittie

slipknot (it's surprising, isn't it?)

paramore

ㅤ

𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫

ro james (HEAR ME OUT, maybe a lil of his inner man whore comes out when ro plays...)

kendrick lamar (token played one song by kendrick and now he won't stop playing his music)

daft punk (S P A C E)

deftones (imagine him and tweek stargazing while "sextape" plays in the background...)

cigarettes after sex

the neighborhood

ㅤ

𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐫

black pink (her fav song is pretty savage)

twice (momo and nayeon are her biases)

everglow (watch/listen to this, it will be so worth it, i promise)

sza

summer walker (don't fuck with wendy testaburger.)

doja cat (remember when doja did the splits on beat? yeah, that's my girl right here.)

ㅤ

𝐛𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬

tinashe (she streams the album "333" religiously)

taylor swift (#blondessupportingblondes)

britney spears (her inner slut comes out when britney plays)

ariana grande

rihanna

chlöe

ㅤ

𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐢 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫

men i trust (innocent bbygrl)

clairo (it's giving lesbian but idc)

lana del rey

melanie martinez

mitski (nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody)

red velvet (she knows the whole choreo to "bad boy" by heart)

[danthropologie]

As one of the cuties dragged bodily into F1 by DTS, can you pitch me the MCL hate thesis to help your brother in Christ to get up to speed? Agree agree that #1 bbygrl Daniel Ricciardo needs protecting at all costs but would love those deets

this is a can of worms you've just opened, i hope you know that 😭

full disclosure, i only got into f1 properly at the start of this season, so i don't have the full background or day-to-day context when it comes to what happened last year or how it was received, other than a few bits of knowledge that i've picked up here and there.

that being said, i'm gonna put the rest under a cut cause it ended up being SO long rip

let's go chronologically and start with the thing that really tipped me over the edge from ironic annoyance to genuine dislike: this video from zandvoort 2021. we all know he had a bad start to the season and in that context it Makes Sense that the team would prioritize lando over daniel, but the way that they went about the team orders—actively fucking with daniel's race, the condescension on the radio, not swapping back when lando did literally nothing with the opportunity that was handed to him—all for lando to get ONE FUCKING POINT is just. incomprehensible to me. (fast forward to the next race, monza, where daniel wins PURELY by his own merit and, in my personal opinion, fueled by spite after what happened in zandvoort 😌)

then we come to this year and DTS s4 dropping right before the season started. i know we all know that DTS creates narratives and rivalries, i know we all know that daniel and lando have both since said that there was no major beef between them like it was portrayed in the show, but from my point of view it's just like...the things that were shown WERE said. mclaren employees WERE taking sides and laughing along with jokes behind the back of someone that was already clearly struggling more than any of us on the outside even knew. and the fact that that sort of mean girl behavior was happening in a professional work environment, much less one that purports itself to Cool, Chill, and a Family the way that mclaren does, is fucking baffling to me and—in my personal opinion—speaks to a culture and atmosphere within the team at large that's not as supportive as it claims to be (going back to monza, i don't think it's a coincidence that his win only came AFTER the summer break when he was able to spend time away from the team and decompress).

then we have the bullshit happening during the races themselves:

1. first race in bahrain, car was shit, had tons of issues, daniel was coming off covid, and the whole weekend was basically a wash.

2. second race in jeddah, first he got a three place grid penalty for impeding during qualifying because, despite all the blind corners on that track, his engineer didn't fucking tell him that someone was coming behind on a fast lap. then during the race, he got team orders to let lando through and a few laps later his car shit the bed. two other things of note: a) if the team knew the car was having issues, that wasn't ever communicated to daniel as far as i remember, and b) in the wake of the retirement, the social team spent the entire week subtly shifting the blame towards daniel and making weird ass posts like this, as if it was somehow his fault that the car had a mechanical issue??

3. third race in australia, daniel's home race, and after lando lost positions at the start, daniel basically spent the entire fucking race riding lando's ass, only to be told on the very last lap (again, in a questionably condescending tone??) that lando was having an issue and they ONLY wanted him to pass if lando completely lost power, basically forcing daniel into a situation where he's defending so that lando doesn't lose places with his rapidly declining car. and i understand how that call made sense and that they wanted to ensure double points, but at the same time: a) it was daniel's first home race in THREE YEARS, b) he had the pace way earlier on in the race to have potentially been allowed to pass, c) daniel's issue in jeddah somehow made team orders appropriate but this one didn't??? again, logically it makes sense but it feels like a bit of a double standard.

4. fourth race in imola, he'd been faster than lando through all the practice sessions, only for his his qualifying to get fucked AGAIN when he only got 1 lap in, compared to every other drivers' 2 lap strategy, before a red flag (and then another red flag caused by lando 😭) ended the session early. and once again, a major part of that came down to a clear lack of communication and support coming from his engineer, who should have been the one to tell him that literally every other driver still left at that point was doing a 2 lap strategy INCLUDING LANDO. the race itself was fucked by his own mistake, but instead of retiring the damaged car (damage which was only confirmed by his engineer at the very end of the race), they left him limping along at the back to "collect data" for the team.

5. fifth race in miami, right off the bat in fp1, his engineer didn't tell him about a car coming from behind around a blind corner ONCE AGAIN (thankfully he didn't get a penalty that time tho, since it was everyone's first time on the track and the FIA were a bit more lenient). after that, for the rest of the weekend he was constantly doing his job AND his engineers' job—constantly asking for updates about gaps and strategies and more or less telling them that he's doing things like coming in for pit stops instead of waiting for their suggestions. then, for another week in a row, his qualifying was fucked when there was an issue with the car that kept him in the pits longer than necessary and forced him into pushing on his outlap, thus depleting his energy and tires for the actual qualifying lap. andreas, the team principal, acknowledged the issue was the team's fault and apologized to daniel for it but ONLY on a random international broadcast feed and in the qualifying report on the mclaren website. no mention of it was made on any of the main mclaren social feeds. then after the race, it comes out that they apparently ran with less water in order to save weight??? during the hottest and most physically demanding race on the calendar yet???? (also there was this random fuck up on the website where they were momentarily selling tshirts celebrating lando's win before the weekend had even started??? bare in mind they didn't do anything special to commemorate daniel's win at monza)

6. which then brings us to today and the sixth race in spain, where it seems they literally did not even fucking plan to get into q3 in the first place and decided to go with the fucking dumbest strategy possible by using up all the fresh tyres before he could get the standard second run in, meanwhile they were literally petitioning the FIA to reverse lando's penalty, and the social team made sure to mention that was the reason he missed q3 on all mclaren social feeds.

and while this is all happening, we also had the ongoing social media bias towards lando, which hit a fever pitch when they posted about a wedding lando went to, but didn't post about a mclaren / f1 related tv appearance that daniel did until daaaays later (after basically being bullied into it by relentless comments from fans on twitter and instagram 😭).

there was also the colton herta saga. he's an american indycar driver and apparently The Chosen One to become the flagship american driver in f1. he did an interview at the beginning of april more or less wishing for daniel to fail so that he can have a chance at his seat. in the month and a half or so since then, zak brown (ceo of mclaren) has literally been losing his fucking mind about the idea of colton in f1. constantly talking about him, bringing him out to the miami gp, reminding everyone that he and lando used to be teammates in the junior series, etc. basically making it very, very clear that he wants colton in a mclaren seat specifically. and given lando's newly signed extension and zak's vested interest in lando's company, quadrant, it's pretty fucking obvious who's seat specifically they want colton to be in. and all of this seems particularly ridiculous when you consider the fact that colton a) doesn't even have his super license and legally cannot drive an f1 car right now, and b) is known for a history of unreliability and mistakes, which seems like a bad idea to add on top of a car already dealing with reliability issues.

zak's also been running his mouth recently claiming that lando "could have won three races in a row last year," including monza, because "there was nothing between lando and daniel." as i said in my tags on this post, daniel fucking earned that win all by his own skill and merit, and to see even the ceo of company slagging him off and acting like it was nothing just feels SO disrespectful to the man that brought them their first win in however many fucking years yk?

and i know all of these things are little and could be swept under the rug or explained away, but when you look at the constant stream of disrespect, lack of support, favoritism of lando, etc etc etc, it adds up to a larger picture of, at best, lack of overall support and consideration, or at worst, incompetence and/or just flat out negligence. and the fact that through all of this daniel continues to try so hard, to give the team everything he has, to not place blame, to always find the positives, etc., i genuinely don't know how he does it because i would have resorted to being a major bitch and started shopping for a new team ages ago 😭

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part I

© sailorhyunjinz 2021; Rights Reserved

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!hyunjin, fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT IN LATER PARTS, fluff, character driven story, strangers to lovers, summer au, mentions of insecurity, love at first sight.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 3,5 k  

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I have never written a series before so please understand if it’s lacking heh... and yes the title does relate to the kooks song with the same title so do give it a listen because it’s really good and fits the story c: 

also this starts slowly LMAO MORE FUN THINGS ARE COMING UP I SWEAR <33

If you have any feedback I’m more than happy to receive it! <3

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Working as a model was not easy. The complaining managers and the expectations by others was too much to handle. Heck, even getting to the shooting locations was a hastle most of the time. 

You tilted your head against the window in the backseat of the taxi. It was a calm august wednesday. The late summer breeze made it’s way into the cab thorugh the window that was opened on the drivers side. Your phone screen lit up, multiple notification from Instagram. 

“omg! slay bbygrl”

“her face is crazy pretty”

“beautiful”

You’ve heard these words too many times. If you’re told the same thing over and over again they eventually mean nothing. You scrolled through the other comments on your latest instagram post, a photo from your last photoshoot. A picture of you lying in a bed of white flowers, your skin glowing and your body covered by a white sheer dress that accentuated your neck. It’s not a bad photo but was I really worth the attention? “There are a thousands of other girls way prettier than me.” you though and with a sulken expression you watched life run by outside the window. 

15 minutes later you arrived at your agency. You smiled your model smile at the taxi driver to which he smiled back and responded: “My pleasure, miss y/n”.

A big shadow was cast from the building in which the modeling agency was. The beige renaissance building was surrounded by green bushes and a black fence. The big oak entryway had golden lion knockers and an ingraved golden sign. “Eccellente Modeling Agency” it said with bold black letters, contrasting nicely with the gold plate. You rang the doorbell next to the sign and in a matter of seconds the oak gates opened with a loud creak.

“Y/n!! You look stunning as always!” said your manager Bangchan as he hugged you. The smell of his aftershave violated your olfactory sense as usual, making you scrunch your nose. He was always dressed business casual, his white polo shirt and light brown dress pants being a good example but today his poloshirt had a great amount of buttons unbuttoned. 

The both of you made your way into his office. A room with a high ceiling and a chandelier worth more than your career. You sat down in the leather couch across the desk, Bangchan sitting on the other side of it. 

“Give me a moment.... Just pulling up some files for the new photoshoot I’ve planned! I promise, you’re not gonna be disappointed.” he says smiling, the desktop screen reflecting in his brown eyes.

He turns his computer screen towards you. Your eyes scan the pictures that pop up. 

“May I present to you the profile of Hwang Hyunjin. One of the most renowned photographers of this age”. Bangchan looks at you, reading your expression. 

The pictures are truly beautiful. Everything, from the outfits to the lightning was perfect.

“Bangchan, you’re insane” you say, smiling widely as you made eye contact with the dark haired manager. “These pictures are so stunning!” you squeal. “How did you even get in contact with him?”

“Nothing for you to worry about y/n, I have my contacts. I’m a manager after all”. He scoffs whilst scrolling through the profile. The next picture getting better than the previous one.

“So... when is the shoot and what concept have you planned?” you say whilst your eyes are glued to the computer screen. 

“Mr, Hwang works for a multitude of companies but Styliz needed a model for their new pastel collection which I immedietly snatched onto. We all know how beautiful you look in pastels y/n” he said attentively to which you smiled, adoring the interest he has for his work. 

“Oh.. I also cheked your schedule and you seem free tomorrow so how about then?” he added. 

“Yes! I’d love too” you said with a small nod.

“Not that you have much choice, Mr Hwang’s time is worth gold y/n” he laughed and reached for something in his cabinet drawers.

“Here, take this” he said while sliding over a light grey business card.

‘Hwang Hyunjin, Photographer’ was written in dark grey letters. A black border decorating the edges of the card.

♡

The morning sun shined thorugh the curtains blinding you temporarily. You felt after your phone on the nightstand with you hand, your eyes still closed. ‘8:05 am’ the screen showed against the background picture of your family.

You missed them, moving to a different city across the country at the young age of 18 was scary. You’ve aged, that’s for sure but you still missed them dearly. Dragging your lifeless body to the shower you hope for a day with happiness whilst the warm water hits your bare skin. It was a big day after all. A photoshoot with photographer Hwang Hyunjin. “Me... on Hyunjins work? It must be a dream...” you thought, grabbing the towel hanging on the cold, silver rack.

You dryed off your thick hair with a light pink towel with one hand whilst the other hand held your phone. “I have to look at his photos again” you thought, tapping on the Instagram icon and typing “Hwang Hyunjin” in the search bar, hoping and praying that his work was published on the social media platform.

“@ photographerHwang” was the first result to pop up and you tapped it instantly being just as surprised as you were yesterday of the beauty that his photos carried. Bumping into the table on your way to the kitchen you noticed a different photo on his feed. It didn’t look like any of the other photos because it was a selfie. You dropped your towel on the floor. No... it can’t be him... or could it?

His face looked like a work of art. Not only was the photo nicely edited with warm light emitting from your screen but the person was even more eyecatching. “It’s probably one of his models” you though as you placed your phone on the kitchen counter and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge.

But what if it’s really him?

♡

You threw on a grey hoodie and biker shorts before you flew out to the taxi waiting for you outside the apartment. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting sir! Here!” you said while panting, quickly pulling up a text message you got from Bangchan sharing the location of the photoshoot. 

“Please, Miss y/n! No need to apologize” laughed the middle aged taxi driver softly. You were now on your way to the shoot. 

Your brain was scattered. One part of you hoped that Mr Hwang really was the boy you saw on his instagram. His long, blond locks slightly covering his sharp jaw. His skin clear as day and rosy lips plump like two rose petals. The other part shut everything down, convinced that it’s one of his models that happened to be to your liking. 

You opened his instagram page again. 

“He must be famous for his perfect features...” you said under your breath, staring at his lips.

The whole taxi ride was filled with thoughts of him, whoever he was. 

“Soon there miss y/n” the taxi driver said after 10 minutes of driving. The taxi slowed down and looking outside the window you saw Bangchan standing infront of a building that looked similar to the agency building. You waved slightly and he waved back at you.

You turned around to the driver and said; “Thank you so much sir”, giving him a generous tip and exiting the vehicle. A warm breeze latches on to you, making your hair flutter in the motions of the wind.

“Y/n! Perfectly on time” Bangchan said and hugged you.

You hugged him back, asking him about his day so far to which he responded;

“Good but going to be even better after this legendary photoshoot is done and we have the most perfect photos taken by the most influential photographer!” he sounded like a little child in a candy shop.

Your ears heated up due to his words and you smiled slightly.

“Let’s go to the second floor and get your outfit and makeup ready. A introduction with Styliz manager won’t be needed since he already knows your delightful personality” he laughed at his corny remarks and you did the same.

“You seem even more excited than me” you remarked, pressing the elevator button.

“When you see the end result you will be floored” Bangchan said and winked at you. 

The elevator clanged. “Second floor”. The metal doors slided open. The eyes of a dozen stylists and makeup artists caught onto you. A slightly potbellied man in a navy colored suit approached you.

“Y/n! I’m so happy to see work with you again.” His voice was hoarse due to his age but his personality being the total opposite. You knew him well since Styliz’s chief was one of the first to offer you a modeling job in a foreign city, you only being a teenager with a big dreams at the time.

“Mr. Styliz! It’s lovely to meet you again” you smiled and sat down in a makeup chair, a girl with blond hair and big hoop earrings starting to brush powder across your nose. You saw Bangchans figure leave behind a door in the reflection of the mirror. 

“Mr. Styliz, might I ask you a question?” You regretted the words as soon as the came out of your mouth. You didn’t need more information about the mysterious boy you saw on Hwang’s instagram page but you simply had to know who is was. 

“Well of course y/n” said Mr. Styliz, his warm breath touched your cheek as he stood right by your side, smelling of morning coffee and looking at you through the mirror. 

“Could I please get more information about Mr.Hwang?” you said, making eye contact with the old man. 

“y/n, you’ll meet him soon! Then you can ask him how much you would like about his life but I must warn you... He is quite the secretive type”. The coffee breath was accentuated as he laughed.

You tried to play along, laughing a fake laugh as the hair designer started to brush out your locks. A wave of embarrassment washed through you. 

The lights of the makeup mirror were getting hot, tiny sweat drops beading on your forehead which the makeup artist wiped off. 

“We are done, Miss y/n” said the makeup artist, her earrings reflecting the light in the studio. You thanked her and saw Bangchan standing at the door where the cameras were. 

“y/n, not much time left. Please go down the hallway and into the second door on your left, the stylist is in there fixing your outfit”. One reason as to why you loved Bangchan as your manager was his calm temper. Even in a time crunch, he always made sure to talk to you in a serene tone. After years in the modeling industry you still couldn’t get used to the ill-tempered staff. Too many times you had been forcefully dragged down corridors and streets whilst they muttered swear words at you. Even thinking about it sends shivers down your spine. 

Your shoes tapped the white linoleum as you made your way down the narrow hallway, knocking on the second door to your left just as Bangchan said. 

A familiar voice said; “Come in!” to which you turned the golden doorknob on  the white wooden door. The tall figure was rummaging in a big plastic container filled with clothes but upon your arrival the figure greeted you with warm eyes. 

“No way!! It’s y/n!” screeched Jisung. He pulled you in to a hug, his belt buckle hit your stomach through the grey hoodie. 

Jisung was a stylist and worked closely with Mr. Styliz therefore you’d gotten close to him. Not only did you like him for his exquisite fashion sense which had a whole different concept each time you saw him but also for his friendliness, always being polite. 

“I’ve missed you so much Jisungie” you said with a pout. 

“I though it was onesided but I guess not haha”

“Don’t be silly! How could I not miss that smile of your Sungie?” you hit him playfully on the arm to which he blushed. 

“Go behind that  and I’ll throw some clothes for you.” he pointed at the wooden divider standing in the corner of the white room filled with clothes racks and colorful clothing. 

You started undressing behind the divider and suddenly a pile of clothing was thrown on your head over the divider. You heard Jisung snicker at the yelp that came out of your mouth as you drowned in the clothes

“Jisung, you are so dead when I’m done” you said whilst putting on the last details to the outfit.

“I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry” he said pleadingly while laughing hysterically. 

You stood on the podium infront of the full lenght mirrors in the room as Jisung observed you and pinned the clothes slightly. 

“Not gonna lie, it’s looks really good on you. The pastels matches perfectly with your skintone.” Jisung looked on the pleaded white skirt you had on. 

You looked in the mirror and shook your head in agreement. The pastel purple sweater with the white collar poking out made you look youthful and innocent. You had on patent mary jane shoes in the same purple color as your sweater. The white kneesocks were slipping down as you moved slightly, almost looking like a school girl as you bend down to lift the socks up. 

“Do you like it?” Jisung looked at you through the reflection on the mirror, standing on the floor making him a head shorter than you. 

“Yea! You’ve never given me a bad outfit Sungie, they’re always adorable. My favorite stylist but don’t tell that to Bangchan” you smirked to which Jisung laughed.

♡

“y/n, Jisung did a great job! You fit the concept to a tee” Bangchan stood infront of two wide dark green doors which led to the photostudio. He smiled shyly and pushed the doors open, a bright white light blinding you as you stepped in.

You squinted and held your hand infront of your eyes as you entered the studio, the air stuffy from all the white boxlights that have been working for a while.

“Miss y/n is here now, Mr. Hwang” Bangchan announced.

Your eyes felt blurry and the lights created a bokeh effect, your vision feeling like a filter. The first thing you saw was him. Hwang Hyunjin.

The shock froze your feet in one position. It was him. The selfie was Hyunjin. And he was hotter in real life.

A tall, slender figure stood on one foot, the other one behind his leg with the tip of the shoe pointing towards the floor. 

“Are you ready, miss y/l/n?”.

His voice was sweeter than honeysuckle, you melted upon hearing him speak. Bangchan looked at you confused when you didn’t move, just observing the presence of the blonde boy infront of you. 

“y/n?” Bangchan had a worried expression on his face as your face broke out in a massive blush. 

“yeah..uh-mm..yes” you only managed to get that out before you were infront of the camera. 

His willowy fingers wrapped around the black Canon camera, it fit perfectly in his hands as if it was made for him. You gulped upon seeing the veins that ran up his exposed arms, the white shirt bunched up by his elbows. 

“Everything good miss? You seem distant” he said in that raspy but sweet voice. 

“Uhm...yeah totally..” you looked awkward with your hands by your side as you saw Bangchan observing you with a confused gaze. 

“Please tilt your head to the right and stand broad with your feet” Hyunjin commanded to which you complied. The flash of the big studio lights didn’t effect you as much anymore since you were used to this but what did effect you was how concentrated Hyunjin looked. Like a true photographer. It was obvious that he enjoyed his job by the way his eyes shined when he looked at the monitor and corrected every detail. Luckily you could stare at his figure all that you wanted since it looked like you were keeping eye contact with the camera and not him. Glancing over to the left of the photographer you saw Bangchan smiling his bright smile, signaling that he’s proud over you. 

Flash

Flash

And another flash before Hyunjin looked at the monitor displaying the photos he just took, a smirk crept onto his face. 

“Good job y/l/n. Could you please grab that chair over there and sit on the edge of it?” he said whilst pointing towards a small wooden stool. Reacting instantly to his soft voice and gestures you pulled the stool towards the x on the ground, making sure you were in frame. 

“One leg over the other” Hyunjin said without even looking towards you, his pale veiny hands were now twisting and turning some buttons on both the camera and monitor. You shook your head up and down slightly in agreement before doing as told and as Hyunjin turned back his chocolatey brown eyes landed on yours. Now it was impossible to hide your burning cheeks, Hyunjin noticed since he laughed stiffly before grabbing the camera off the camera stand and going down on one knee to capture an angle from below. Numerous amounts of sparks from the big box lights were emitted and after every spark Hyunjin turned around to the screen which displayed your figure. Staring at him you smiled slowly, feeling your heart beat faster. Why do I feel like this by just looking at him? Your head was clouded with millions of other thoughts. Just as you started tuning out the room Hyunjin clapped his hands hard, the sound ringing in your ears. You jumped slightly which made Bangchan laugh.

“All done! Nice work everybody” Hyunjin announced loudly before bowing down to the other staff members in the room and to you as well. You returned his gesture by a slight bow of the head and quickly scurried of to Bangchan, your face hot.

“Are you sure you’re not ill?” Bangchan said softly before putting the back of his hand towards your forehead. Shaking your head from side to side you pushed his hand away. 

“No, I’m fine... just so hot with the box lights you know?” you laughed fumblingly, not knowing where to rest your gaze. 

You felt someone tap you on your left shoulder and you almost fainted when you turned around. Hyunjin was standing three footsteps from you, the scent of his cologne making you swoon. He smiled as he saw your shy expression and sparkling eyes.

“I though that it must have been hot, here have this”

He casually held out a waterbottle which you received with both hands as a gesture of thankfulness. 

“y/n, I’m just gonna head off to Jisung to discuss something. Meet me at the changing rooms in about 10, ok?” Bangchan said, slightly leaning towards your ear. 

“Yeah, see you in 10!” you said while the managers back disappeared through the broad doors of the studio. Turning back to Hyunjin his blond locks were draped infront of his eyes and as he spoke he tucked those light pieces behind his ear, revealing his small silver hoop earrings.

“I’m gonna pack up the cords now but it was a pleasure to work with you, miss y/l/n” 

The corners of your mouth went upwards at his formality.

“Please, call me y/n” you said quietly, being too shy to look him in the eyes.

“Sure, see you around y/n” Hyunjin said as he lifted up his hand to shake yours. His lanky fingers were filled with bold rings, many of which were designer. A slight panic rushed through your mind as you didn’t want to scare him away with your clammy hands. The sweaty hands and the churning of your stomach was all due to Hyunjin nearness. Hesitantly you streched the tips of your fingers against the blond haired boy and his hand emitted warmth when being met with your fingertips. He smiled before turning back, his eyes forming into half moons as charming dimples errupted on his lean cheeks.

You bowed to the other staff members on your way out of the building on your way to meet Bangchan and Jisung in the changing room. The waterbottle in your hand almost slipped as you took another clunck of the fresh water and that’s when you noticed something. Stopping in the hallway where the stylists room was located you inspected the waterbottle and saw a black marker scribble on the wrapper around the bottle. Upon removing it your heart stopped. Your knees could give up at any moment from the sheer shock. Am I losing my mind? A number was loosely doodled on the white plastic wrapper and underneath it there was a message. 

Call me 

// Hyunjin

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo​ @fleeingreality @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms

[rozcdust]

DEI MY LOVE I AM BACK FROM THE HOLIDAYYYYYY~ but i only have around 3 days more before I got swamped up in the sea of assignments and tests (i have 3 tests and an assignment due next week and the following week is also fully filled with uni demands pls pray for my sanity)

also once again im not able to go crazy with the reblog T-T buttttt imma do it here ehe YOUR 2 NEW UPDATES ONCE AGAIN!

FIRST OFF RAN X Y/N BESTIES AGENDA GOING STRONG I'M LOVING THIS SO MUCH AAAAAA it literally reminded me of the Fighting Dog but now we're in the parallel universe so to say but butttt imagine this in the parallel universe, and Ran, Rin being y/n's platonic soul protector that's why their roles are pretty much almost the same in She's Mean and Fighting Dog (I remember Ran and Rin said they considered FD's y/n as close friend almost sibling). Same goes to the petshop trio. In this parallel universe they're binded to y/n since in the original universe they aren't able to help her (maybe they wished they could had done much more so in this parallel universe their wishes came true and so that's why they're protective of y/n babying her tryna feed a tiger veggies ehe) don't take this too seriously tho I'm just analysing it in my own way making up stuffs and theories hshhshs.

I knew how much crack you gonna put in the updates and luvvvvv u didn't disappoint at all i love u so much aaaaa <33 PLS SANZU AND RIN BEING CUTESY DRUNKARDS I WANNA SQUISH THEM SO BAD AND SANZU SCREAMING AKGSKDYEJJD. And y/n's reaction "I had men have that reaction before but not in this context" hsihdjsgx pls luvv you are making me fall in love with y/n so much more aaaaa y/n being a girl boss as always and then we have those simps jskshxjz I CAN SEE RAN TEAMING UP WITH Y/N TO TEASE KOKO. KOKO BEING JEALOUS IS EVERYTHING PLS. Ran is so amused with y/n pls I'm loving this agenda so much. Again those simps. SIMPS. KOKO, SANZU, RIN BEING SIMPS nskahsgjd they're too cute I'm literally cracking up so much. Thank you so much for the updates love it's amazing, you're wonderful in crafting words to bring out emotions be proud of your writings okay love?

p/s: my comments are too long hshshhs pls don't mind the theory though my brain decided to go yeet creative mode.

NO NO PLEASE YOUR COMMENTS ARE PERFECT I LOOK FORWARD TO THEM ALWAYS 😭

good luck with your exam honey! don’t tire yourself out too much okay, you got this 💖

AND I LOVE YOUR THEORIES THEY ARE AMAZING PLS CONTINUE TELL ME MORE BBYGRL AHA *fuckboi emoji face*

and thank you so much for your kind words pls 😭 kith 💖💖