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endless-ineffabilities · 4 months ago

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It's not like I'm falling in love, I just want ya to do me no good (and you look like you could) (18+)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

Ewan Mitchell isn't one for parties, but for you? He'd make an exception. Surrounded by stars at the GQ party, his revered muse on the big screen becomes a twisted angel in his arms—leaving him seeing stars again as he finds bliss within your warmth.

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Ewan thought he could keep up the celebrity facade, just for the night at least, but the ceaseless barrage of mingling is starting to get to him.

The boo hurled at him right outside the establishment still echoes in his ears. Maybe it wasn't even about him, but his annoyance had been triggered. He decides that it all has gotten to him. What a load of bull.

He had been on the fence about being tapped as an honouree of a lifestyle magazine. Like it means anything. What does this have to do with being an actor? How is this supposed to help his craft? He might as well have been tapped to do one of those videos where he shows everyone what's in his bag.

"It's exposure," his team had chirped in unison, practically reading from a PR handbook.

This wasn't the industry he'd envisioned when he first fell in love with the craft. But none of this is about craft. It's all publicity fodder, all noise.

What he really wants—what his entire being craves—is a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, a SAG award. Hell, he would trade every glitzy dinner party invite for the faintest whiff of Oscar buzz. That was the dream.

Instead, here he is, tethered to a seat at one of four long tables, littered with stars of every calibre—from industry titans to the disposable nobodies who would be forgotten by this time next month.

He had been encouraged to make connections. Socialize. He translated this as a polite way of being told to suck up to people. Maybe a casting director would remember him. Maybe some producer would pass his name along. Easy.

Flattery will get you everywhere in this business.

But at any given time, he would much rather suck on a bloody spliff.

Leaning over to Davey, he says, "I might sneak out for a smoke or something. That's fine, right?"

Davey snickers, sensing Ewan's agitation. "Oh, if you're asking me, I say do whatever you want, mate."

But then someone from his team, straight-laced, precious Lindsay, lets him know otherwise. "Ewan, I'd advise you to sit still for now. What if they call you up some time during dinner?"

Ewan doubles down, his leg anxiously shaking under the table. "Are they going to call on me?"

Lindsay balks. She hasn't heard Ewan sound this pressed before. "Well, we weren't told but—"

"Then I can go. They wouldn't care."

"Ewan, just—"

"Sorry, Lind, but I gotta take a breather. This is all just—"

Lindsay waves him off, resigned. Ewan has always been an easy client to manage, so she can't bring herself to begrudge him this. "Fine, whatever. Just make sure to hide the cigarette if the photographer shows up."

"Sure," he mutters, not meaning it in the slightest. Nobody would care if he is spotted smoking. They should be grateful he is not among the deviants doing lines in the bathroom.

He abruptly gets up from his seat, and backs right into... you.

Of all people. Ewan feels the blood drain from his face, his breath hitching as disbelief engulfs him. His hand instinctively rises, brushing against the silken warmth of flawless skin exposed by your backless dress. The contact sends a jolt through him, and for a moment, he's certain he might pass out. You—right here, in the flesh.

You flash him a dazzling, effortless smile and murmur, "Oops, excuse me," your voice a melodic tease that leaves him utterly undone.

"Oh, no... no problem." He stammers, fully aware that he should be the one begging pardon.

You hold his gaze, ensnaring him so effortlessly. He realises how stupid he must look, with his mouth parted and his eyes wide. He should say his name. He should introduce himself, goddamnit.

But the moment shatters when someone calls your name. You step away without hesitation, and Ewan feels the loss acutely, like an unhooked fish left gasping on dry land.

Then it comes. That fucking sound.

The high-pitched squeal you let out is sharp, almost grating, but somehow it still strikes him as endearing. He'd probably hate it if it didn't come from you.

"Hi! Oh my god, how are you? I haven't seen you since our ski trip in Courmayeur!" Your voice carries, your excitement encroaching his space like an air of warmth.

Ewan follows your trajectory, his eyes trailing as you glide over to Eve Hewson. The two of you embrace like old friends, giggling like co-conspirators, your champagne glasses clinking softly.

He nearly rolls his eyes but catches himself. He knows he's being ridiculous, standing there like a sulking idiot, but the irritation bites anyway. He wants to blame the squeal, or the scene you're making, or the way you seem so goddamn comfortable in this world of chatter and pomp.

But that's not quite it.

He knows the truth, and it gnaws at him like a persistent itch he can't scratch. He's annoyed because he wanted you—your dazzling smile, your undivided attention—to be aimed at him.

He forces his feet to move, making his way down the side hall, where the din of the party fades into muffled chaos. He needs a breather, a moment to reset, but even here, your presence clings to him like static.

It's maddening.

Ewan has spent years watching you. On screens, in interviews, on magazine covers. You're like an open book he's memorised, every detail imprinted on his mind.

That birthmark beneath your right shoulder blade, briefly exposed in that love scene with Glen Powell. He remembers it, even though the camera barely lingered. The way your laugh bursts out unguarded, lighting up every corner of a room.

In one interview, you mentioned Meisner as your go-to technique, and it stuck with him. Of course you'd say Meisner, he thought at the time, like you were someone close to him, because you're all about connection, about living truthfully in the moment.

And here you are, in the same place as him, vibrant and ever so magnetic. Princess of every party, muse of the silver screen.

But you don't know him.

You didn't think you would be attending the British GQ party, but one of your Londoner friends happened to be throwing their birthday bash the night before, so you thought—why the hell not?

You were, of course, invited. Originally, the invite had been for the American GQ Men of the Year party the week prior, but filming schedules had other ideas. For the past two months, you'd been stranded in the icy landscapes of Winnipeg, immersed in the demanding shoot of David Lowery's latest thriller.

Grueling days and endless takes had left you with little energy for glamour. But now, with a few weeks off and the American crew taking a well-earned Thanksgiving break, you finally have some breathing room.

The London event seems like a perfect way to ease back into the whirlwind. And it doesn't disappoint.

The Roof Gardens is buzzing, the atmosphere heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and free-flowing champagne. You glide through it like you belong—because you do. Years of this kind of schmoozing have taught you how to navigate these waters. A charming smile here, a fleeting hug there, a bit of banter with a photographer who asks for the best angle.

You find yourself talking to your old castmate Eve Hewson near the bar, the two of you imbibing something bubbly and dry. She looks luminous as always, her dark hair framing her sharp, mischievous grin.

"Winnipeg, though?" Eve says, her tone incredulous as she leans in. "What the hell is Lowery making you do out there? Freeze to death for art?"

"Pretty much," you laugh, savouring the chill of your drink. "But it's worth it, trust me. The script is absolutely incredible. I just wish the weather wasn't trying to kill me."

"Classic Lowery. He probably thinks the suffering adds authenticity or some shit."

"Probably," you agree, rolling your eyes. For some reason, you find yourself circling back to an earlier incident.

"By the way," you say, leaning a little closer to Eve, "do you know who that guy was? The one I bumped into earlier?"

"Which guy?"

"Clip-on earring. Tall, kind of broody-looking in an overcoat? Wasn't talking much, just sort of... cruising awkwardly."

Eve shrugs, clearly drawing a blank. "I have no idea. Was he hot?"

It only takes you a second to consider this. "I mean, sure. In a tortured artist kind of way. Poor schmuck looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here."

"Oh!" Eve says, snapping her fingers. "Wait, he might be one of the honourees."

You arch a brow. "Not a goddamn influencer, right?"

Eve shakes her head. "No, don't worry. I think he's in that Game of Thrones spinoff. What's it called? House of Dragons?"

"Never saw it." You didn't have the time, truth be told. Also, the last seasons of its predecessor had been enough to edge it off your watchlist.

She taps her chin, thinking. "Wait... oh! Wasn't he that nerd in the movie with Jacob and Barry? Saltburn!"

"Oh my god. That's him? He did great in that role."

"Right? I could not have pointed him out. Kind of a chameleon, I guess."

"Guess so," you agree, the curiosity lingering.

The night unfolds exactly as expected. You exchange quips with Harris Dickinson, who flirts with you just enough to keep things interesting. You catch up with Nicole Kidman, who had been somewhat of a mentor to you when you acted alongside her in your third film at just 16. Jude Law joins your circle at one point, his charm as effortless as ever, and for a while, it feels like just another night on the circuit.

By the time you step outside into the crisp evening air, you're craving a bit of quiet. The gardens around the pavilion are softly lit, the gentle glow of fairy light casting long shadows over the manicured hedges. You pull your vape from your Loewe clutch, taking a long drag as you lean against a cold marble railing.

That's when you notice him again.

He's standing a few feet away, partially obscured by a stone pillar, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The faint smell of tobacco taints the pristine air, and you catch the same restless energy he had earlier.

You wander closer, the soft click of your heels against the stone catching his attention. He glances up, startled, as if he hadn't expected anyone else to venture out here.

"Hey," you say casually, holding your vape up as you stop beside him. "Can you hold this for a sec?"

Before he can respond, you hand him your purse, crouching slightly to tighten the strap on your heel.

He freezes, staring at the outstretched object. "Uh... sure," he relents, albeit hesitantly.

You straighten after a minute, taking the purse back with a quick "Thanks," and give him a once-over. Up close, he's sharper, more distinct. There's something remarkably intense about him that wasn't obvious before.

"I'm Ewan... Mitchell," he blurts, his words a little rushed.

You smile, tilting your head. "Nice to meet you, Ewan."

He fumbles for a response, his cigarette dangling precariously from his fingers. "I, uh, think we bumped into each other earlier. Inside."

"Yeah," you say lightly, your lips curving into a faint smirk. "I like your outfit, by the way. Very vampiric. Dior, right?"

He blinks, then chuckles softly, almost self-deprecatingly. "Yeah. Thanks. I like you too... I mean, I like... I like your dress, too."

You laugh at the accidental remark. There's something undeniably charming about him, despite his nervousness. "Why, thank you, Ewan."

The blush that creeps on his cheeks shows through the powder. He must have felt it, because he immediately trained his gaze down to his polished shoes.

Cute. So you make it your mission to break through his shell. These events tend to get repetitive after a while, but maybe tonight will be a lovely exception.

And so the game begins.

The two of you peacefully take hits of your respective choices of poison, your bubblegum-flavoured vapour melding in the air with his Marlboro red.

"You're quiet," you point out the obvious eventually, a teasing grin playing at your lips.

He almost laughs at the understatement but only shrugs. "Not much to say, I suppose."

"Oh, I doubt that." You lean against the balustrade, studying him. Ewan feels his pulse quicken under the weight of it.

You're so at ease. It's infuriatingly attractive. Your disarming allure, your grace in this world of make-believe, only deepens his self-consciousness. He knows what he must look like: an odd man out, fumbling at the edges of fame while you shine at the centre of it all.

He exhales shakily and finally replies, "Don't let me bore you."

"You're not boring me," you reassure him, before playfully adding, "Not yet at least."

There's a flicker of something unclear behind your eyes when you move closer and ask, "So what are you thinking?"

What he's thinking is that he's out of his depth, that he hasn't felt this kind of raw attraction in years—if ever. He's thinking you're the kind of woman who doesn't even have to command attention, and he's already hopelessly drawn in. But what he says is, "Just... wondering how I got here."

Your laugh is soft, rich with amusement. "To this party?"

"Or this moment."

His words surprise him, his ears burning as they register. You don't say anything, causing Ewan's nerves to spike. Did he sound too eager? Too pathetic?

But then, you smile. That damned megawatt smile that looks even better in person than on screen. "Well, it's a good place to be, isn't it?"

You lean a fraction closer, and could swear his heart is about to burst out of his chest.

"Do you always look so serious?" you ask, your gaze flicking to his lips, admiring the way they seem to be in a state of being perpetually curled. "Or is it just the brooding artist thing?"

"I'll take it if it works," he manages, his voice uneven.

"Oh, it's working," you say softly.

Ewan shifts his weight, tapping the cigarette against the edge of the balustrade. "Sorry, I just... I don't get it. These things. Everyone pretending they know everyone, like it's all some bloody performance."

You exhale a stream of vapour, watching it swirl into the night. He's finally opening up, and there is no way you're letting this slide. "It is a performance," you reply. "That's the point."

He shakes his head, gazing at you with a genuine softness you haven't been at the receiving end of in far too long. "But why? Why not just let the work speak for itself?"

There's something innocent in the way he says it, and it's endearing and definitely rare among your crowd. Ewan Mitchell isn't like the men you usually find at these industry events. He's no preening peacock, no walking cologne ad praying to be noticed.

There's something boyish in the way he fidgets, and yet also something undeniably grown in the way his eyes linger on you when he thinks you're not looking.

You reply, "It's so people know who you are. Why would anyone want to go see your movie if they don't give a shit about you?"

"You see, darling, that's where talent comes into play."

"Hmm, okay. But do you not know how many thousands upon thousands of aspiring actors come to LA every year just to witness the death of their dreams, because nobody gave a shit about who they are? And I'm certain that a lot of them can outact us under the table."

Ewan takes a slow drag from his cigarette, buying himself time. The way you said "us" sends a thrill through him he's desperately trying to smother. "Well," he begins, "if you're talented enough, you'll eventually catch a break. People notice, don't they?"

"Talent isn't everything," you point out. "You need to have drive."

"That I have," he counters quickly, his voice laced with quiet conviction. He wouldn't have been able to climb out of a life of near-guaranteed anonymity in Derbyshire if he didn't possess drive. There's a confidence in him now, a spark you seem to notice, judging by the faint curve of your lips.

"And charisma," you add, your smile widening, "which, clearly, you also have."

"Thank you," he says on instinct. There's a pause, just long enough for him to wonder if he's again blushing under your watchful gaze.

"And," you continue, dragging the word out with deliberate weight, "in this day and age, you need to get people talking."

Ewan exhales, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "How do I do that, superstar?"

"A big, fat scandal usually does the trick." Your voice is casual, but your eyes gleam with mischief.

"Oh, brilliant," he deadpans. His sarcasm earns him another laugh, and he feels it in his chest like a warm shockwave.

"Or... you could date someone famous. Get on the PR train."

Ewan shakes his head, his brow furrowing. "Not for me, I think."

You drift closer, eyes narrowing slightly as if you're sizing him up. "Oh really? You wouldn't get with me if you had the chance?"

The question lands like a lit match in the conversation. He swallows nervously, "Of... of course I would. But I don't want it to be manufactured."

"How would it go then?" There's no mocking in your question, no cruelty in your smile—just curiosity, maybe a touch of challenge.

He falters, betraying the battle waging between his nerves and his growing comfort in your company. "How would what go?"

"How would you, Ewan Mitchell, get me?"

His throat goes dry. He considers dodging it, turning the conversation back to you with one of the rehearsed quips he uses for interviews. But that feels cheap in the face of your boldness, so unabashed and expectant. "Well, I'd ask you on a date."

"And I'd say yes... go on."

"And we'll go to... the cinema," he says simply, and for the first time tonight, he doesn't feel like treading water.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, you're such a purist."

"What's wrong with that?" he asks, a touch defensive but also playful, emboldened by your attention.

"Nothing, you tortured artist, you," you tease, your tone lilting. "And then what?"

"Then... we could grab dinner or—"

"Would you kiss me?" you interrupt, your voice low and threaded with something heavier. Most would hesitate, worrying they'd gone too far, but you're not like most people. You never have been.

"If you... if you wanted me to," he replies, his own voice rough with honesty.

"But would you want to?"

His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest of moments before snapping back to your eyes. The words spill out of him. "I'd be a fucking idiot not to want to kiss you, darling."

Back in the pavilion, music from the DJ booth intensifies, signalling the post-dinner stage of the festivities. But the booming bass that reverberates is nothing compared to the beating of your hearts.

"On this hypothetical date... do we take it a step further?"

Ewan's thoughts run wild, and they are betrayed by the way his pupils dilate. "What do you mean?"

"I am talking about hooking up." Your words are relaxed, but the way you say them is anything but. They drip with intention, with heat, as if you're privy to the fact that he has pictured that scenario a hundred times over.

"What do you take me for?"

"A warm-blooded man who's clearly attracted to me... and who I'm also attracted to."

"You like me?" he whispers hoarsely.

Instead of answering, you close the distance, your lips brushing featherlight against his. The tentative touch sets him ablaze. When you press harder, surer, he melts into you. His hands tremble as they come up to your waist, anchoring himself in the reality of you.

"Fuck me," he breathes when you pull back, leaving him dazed. "I can't—"

"Do this?" you ask, your lips hovering over his, pulling at the fringes of his restraint.

"No... I mean, I can't believe I'm kissing you." He stumbles over his words, clearly in awe. "I love you."

It's your turn to be taken aback. "Woah, what?"

"I mean, I've loved your work," he stammers. "You inspire me as an actor, you know. I've watched you since your early days. You're fucking amazing."

"Mmm." When he allows his hand to drift along your spine, you ask, "Have you ever... fantasized about... sleeping with me?"

"I... I don't—"

"I'm used to it. Being looked at. Thought of, in that way." There's a tinge of raw sensitivity in your admission, letting him see the real you.

Ewan wants more of it. After just a taste of who you are underneath the surface, he is left craving the rest. "Then I think you know my answer," he says.

You let out a low hum. "I know."

"You're such a goddamn liability," he murmurs, managing to sound equal parts affectionate and exasperated.

"I know that too. Come with me," you say, your tone suddenly commanding. You grab his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and tug him towards the pavilion. He follows without a shred of hesitation, his heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of his chest.

The two of you weave through the edges of the party, slipping past clusters of inebriated guests until you find yourself in the dimly lit, unattended coatroom. The small space is as luxurious as the rest of the venue, the perfect backdrop for the tension threatening to explode.

The moment the lock on the door clicks shut, Ewan's restraint snaps like a taut wire. His hands cradle your face as he initiates the kiss this time, his hunger for you bleeding through every press of his lips.

The rest of the party fades away, and there is only you. He didn't care about any of it anyway.

"You are so fucking hot," he groans into the kiss. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Believe it, handsome," you purr, sliding your hands down the material of his coat.

"Are you sure about this?" His question comes out as a whisper, his forehead resting against yours, his cigarette-scented breath fanning your face.

"Ewan," you say, "get on with it before they all notice we've been gone too long."

He huffs out a nervous laugh. "The way you talk makes me think you wouldn't give a shit."

"No, I wouldn't," you confirm, your grin wicked. "They should fucking wait for us."

"You have an attitude, princess," he mutters, his fingers digging into your exposed back.

"Been told I have a big head," you joke.

He hums, before dropping a line that floors you. "Bet you have a sweet pussy, too."

Your eyes flash with amusement, drawing closer until your lips graze his Dior earring. "Wanna find out?"

"Fuckin' hell," his breath shudders out of him, "yes... yes... yes." He knew it might make him come across as desperate, as a damn simp, but he could not bring himself to give a single flying fuck. Not when you perch atop the gleaming marble edge of the table, and spread each leg out to the side, tantalisingly slow. A precious flower to be plucked, right there for the taking.

For him. He feels unworthy. He has half a mind to check the room for cameras—maybe this is all a prank. But what a lascivious, cruel prank that would be.

Is this some twisted initiation ritual into the Hollywood elite?

You trail a smooth, manicured finger along his jawline, igniting a shiver that ripples down his spine. His nerves come alive under your touch, each one crackling with electric anticipation, flipping a switch deep within him directly connected to his cock.

As he has revered you as a goddess on the silver screen all these years, he now reveres you in reality, sinking to his knees.

"Don't keep me waiting," you whisper silkily.

Ewan takes a steadying breath, before diving in. His hands lift the smooth material of your dress, revealing the sacred area between your legs, barely covered in a white sliver of a thong. You might as well have come with no underwear.

The coat suddenly feels too constricting, so he unbuttons it with a sharp motion, letting the heavy garment slide to the floor. But almost immediately, a flicker of concern crosses his face. The Dior number is a rental, and if it gets damaged, it won't be his head on the block—it'll be Davey's. With a hint of sheepishness, he retrieves it, carefully draping it over the back of an upholstered chair.

You notice the gesture, subtle but telling. He doesn’t quite belong to your world—or perhaps he does, but he moves through it without succumbing to its superficial trappings. Your friend Timothée wouldn’t have spared the coat a second glance, long since desensitized to the weight of designer labels.

But Ewan? He handles it all with a kind of quiet reverence, as if even in a borrowed piece of luxury, he remains grounded in something real.

And it only intensifies your desire for him.

There's a wanton intrigue in your eyes as you take in the bareness of his torso. His muscles are defined, but not in the off-putting gym rat kind of way. Instead, there's a natural leanness to his form—a testament to a body honed not for vanity, but for purpose.

Kneeling before you, eyes bright with awe, he gets right down to work. He pushes the fabric of your dress higher, out of his way, and you help him along, your fist bunching the skirt to one side.

"God, you're... perfect," he whispers. His palms rest on your thighs, and when his lips press to the sensitive skin just above your knee, you let out an involuntary sound that draws a low groan from his throat.

"Ewan," you breathe impatiently, unable to conceal your need for him. But he doesn't rush, dragging his mouth higher, trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he savours the sensation.

He pauses just before pulling down the waistband of your thong, glancing up at you with wide, darkened eyes. "Tell me if I'm... if I'm doing too much," he says, almost shyly.

"You're not doing enough," you reply. "Keep going."

So he does. He slides the white lace down your ankles, then presses his mouth to your core, his tongue pushing between your folds with a fervour that makes your head fall back. His guttural moan is muffled as he goes down on you, the vibration of it causing heat to pool in your lower belly. You press the flat stem of your heel to the back of his head, drawing him closer.

"Fuck, Ewan," you gasp aloud, your hips rolling instinctively against his mouth as he works you over. He licks you, sloppy and desperate, his inexperience showing but somehow making it even better. He's so determined to give you pleasure, so eager to make you come undone, that he doesn't care about anything else.

He doesn't care about acting like a starved animal as he sucks on your pussy. All Ewan wishes for, in that very moment, is that you cum all over him—the sweet substance flooding his tongue, dripping down his chin, far more sumptuous than everything they have on offer in the party's banquet.

He's seen you fake an orgasm for a scene before, but this is real.

His tongue flicks over your bud, and when you cry out, he doubles his efforts. He wraps his lips around the aching nub to suck gently, then slides a finger into you, curling it just right. Adding another, he increases the pace, his fingertips pulsing into that damned spot within your walls each time.

The defined bridge of his nose is flush against your clit as he moves, augmenting your pleasure. The whole thing is messy, unrefined, and so damn good that it has you teetering on the edge in no time.

Your thighs quiver around his head, and when your orgasm crashes over you, you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. Ewan keeps going, his tongue and fingers refusing to let up, coaxing every last shudder from you until you're trembling and gasping for air.

"Holy. Shit." You lean back on your elbows to recuperate as white spots flood your vision.

"Did I... was that... was that good?" he asks with his lips shiny and swollen, practically yearning for your approval.

"Yeah," you manage, but it escapes your lips as a small, incoherent sigh.

"Hmm? What? What was that... baby?"

Baby, he says. But with the way, he's being so sweet, so dumbstruck, he's certainly the baby in this dynamic.

"More," you give him a better answer, "C'mere." You pull him up to your level, tasting yourself on his lips. Leveraging your legs around his waist, you keep him caged in. The outline of his hardened cock presses against your pelvis, and when you grind into him, his teeth clamp down on your bottom lip.

"Aghhh, hey!"

"Shit, I'm sorry—"

"It's okay," you whisper, not letting him pull away. "I liked it. And I want more."

"Anything, baby," he promises, and the raw honesty in his tone makes your chest tighten. "Anything you want. I'll—fuck—I'll give it to you. I'm all yours."

You nod once, before he claims your lips again in a bruising kiss. One of the thin straps of your dress falls from your shoulder, and he visibly shivers in excitement at the sight of your exposed breast.

"Fuck," he sighs, his hand coming up almost hesitantly to cup you. His thumb brushes over your nipple, as he takes you in with lust-clouded eyes. He leans down and captures the flesh with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your tender peak until you're left squirming.

You reach for him, fumbling with his belt and his zipper, and he helps you, his movements even more hurried and uncoordinated than yours.

When he frees himself, you can't help but stare—his cock is long and hard, already slick with precum. The sight makes your mouth water, and when you drag your gaze back up to his face, you find him watching you, his expression somewhere between bashful and utterly wrecked.

Ewan's hair, once gelled to immaculate perfection, now lies in disarray. He'll need to borrow your comb before he dares rejoin the party. The lower half of his face bears the unmistakable traces of cum and smudged rouge, a vivid testament to the chaotic indulgences of the evening. And somewhere in the frenzy of fumbling and fondling, his clip-on Dior earring has gone astray. He feels the absence keenly, like a phantom limb, yet he resigns himself to the loss—for now, it's a dilemma best left for another moment.

"You're staring," he says, an uneasy laugh escaping him, but there's heat in his gaze, a newfound confidence grounding his nerves.

"Because I like what I see," you reply.

"Tell me if this is too much," he says, his anxiety resurfacing through the haze of lust. It's endearing—so much so that you can't help but smile.

"Ewan," you say firmly. "I want everything."

He groans faintly as he lines himself up. Carefully, he pushes into you, and the stretch is exquisite, sending a shiver rippling up your spine. You both moan, the sound echoing in the quiet of the room. He buries himself to the hilt, pausing to catch his breath, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Fuck, oh fuck," he murmurs, looking down at where your bodies meet. "Your pussy feels so good."

The compliment makes you feel something you can't pinpoint, but there’s no time to dwell on it. He starts to move, his thrusts tentative at first, testing the waters. But the whorish mewls spilling from your lips spur him on, and soon, he finds a rhythm—deep, steady, and just rough enough to leave you begging for more.

"Fuck, Ewan," you gasp, your nails scraping lightly against his back. "Yeah... just like that."

Your words are the only encouragement he needs. His pace quickens, and his grip on you tightens as if he's about to confess that he wants to own you. He's already yours, so it's only fair, isn't it?

He's spent years fantasizing about how your pussy would feel, squeezing his cock like a goddamn vice, and he's happy to find out that his imagination is nothing compared to the real thing.

"So sexy, baby," he mutters, his voice muffled as he nips at your neck. "Better than I ever—" He cuts himself off with a groan, his teeth grazing your skin.

You raise your legs higher up his torso to draw him deeper. The angle sends a bolt of pleasure through you, and your moans grow louder despite your attempts to keep quiet.

Then, suddenly, the doorknob rattles.

Both of you freeze, Ewan still buried deep inside your fleshy walls, his eyes wide with panic. The sound of a familiar voice seeps through the door, followed by a frustrated sigh.

"Where the hell did I leave my phone?" It's your friend, Florence Pugh. Her voice is unmistakable, and the realisation makes your stomach drop.

Ewan’s lips form a silent oh my God. You bite back a laugh, pressing a hand over your mouth as Florence jiggles the doorknob again.

"Seriously?" she mutters. "Locked? For fuck's sake."

You hear her footsteps retreat, her voice fading as she calls out to someone else. "Have you seen my phone? I swear I left it out here."

The moment the coast is clear, you both exhale in unison, the tension breaking into a mix of laughter and relief. Ewan drops his forehead to your shoulder, shaking his head. "This is insane," he whispers, though he doesn't feel a single ounce of regret.

"You're the one who couldn't keep it in his pants," you tease, rolling your hips slightly to remind him of your still-connected bodies.

His response is a low growl, and he resumes his thrusts, harder this time, filled with unfiltered desire. The near-miss only seems to have fueled him, the snap of his hips more frantic, more intense. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room—mumbled curses, breathless moans, sticky slapping of flesh meeting flesh.

"God, you're incredible," he says, his voice strained. "I can't get enough of you."

You feel the coil in your belly tightening again, the pressure building with each thrust. Your delicate fingers dig into his shoulders, and he groans at the sensation, his cock twitching deep inside you. His rhythm falters for only a second before he recovers.

"Ewan," you gasp, your voice breaking. "I'm so close—don't stop."

"Come for me, baby," he says, his hand slipping between your bodies to find your clit. It sends you spiraling, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cry out, your body tensing and shuddering beneath him as he continues to move, chasing his own release.

He reaches up and twists your nipple, the sharp sensation making you gasp just before he comes. The sight of you—head thrown back, breast bouncing free from your designer gown, your smudged red lips parted in bliss—drives him to the brink. With a strangled growl, he slams into you one final time. His body shakes as he spills inside you, the warmth of his release flooding you completely. You both tremble in the aftermath, caught in the intensity of the moment, gasping for air, drenched in sweat and tangled in raw desire.

You blink lazily at him, a beautiful mess of tousled hair and make-up in dire need of a retouch. "Still think I'm a liability?" you ask.

"Oh, absolutely. But one worth keeping anyway."

Ewan sits in his dimly lit London apartment, the glow of his phone the only other source of light in the room. A half-empty bottle of Guinness sits forgotten on his coffee table. The screen displays your Instagram profile—your impossibly gorgeous face beaming at him from your latest post, which happens to be a professional photograph of you at the GQ party.

His finger hovers above the Follow button like it's the trigger of a detonator.

His newly-created account is laughably barren—no posts, no followers, no following. Just a desperate, last-ditch attempt to tether himself back to you, even if only digitally.

Ewan had always sworn off social media, claiming it wasn't his style, that he preferred the privacy and the mystique. Yet, here he is, spiraling, drunk on the memory of you and of that night.

The coatroom had been a blur. The attendant had returned far too soon, a flurry of apologies as Florence appeared behind her, claiming her phone from her coat pocket with a triumphant smirk.

Ewan remembers how Florence had tugged you aside, your laughter ringing out as she swiped her thumb across your lips, erasing the evidence of that kiss—or maybe just rearranging it. You had been whisked away to the ladies' room, leaving him standing there, disheveled, speechless, and utterly entranced. He hadn't even managed to get your number.

It's been days since, but he still feels the ghost of your touch, the echo of your moans, the scent of you on his skin. He's tried to focus, tried to pick up his scripts, but his mind keeps replaying the way you looked as you came.

He has even rewatched a film of yours, with special attention paid to a particular love scene. Watching it over and over, repeatedly going back to the timestamp where you're seen riding your male costar.

He felt aroused watching you. Also, incredibly fucking jealous.

"Pathetic," he mutters to himself, his finger still hovering. His thumb twitches, brushing the screen, but before he can commit to his descent into full-blown thirst, his phone buzzes violently, the vibration startling him into dropping it onto the couch.

"Shit." He snatches it back up, squinting at the screen. It's a call from his agent.

"Ewan," comes the voice on the other end, crisp and faintly incredulous. "What the hell did you do at that party?"

His heart stops for a beat. "Uh... what?"

"The party. The GQ one. The one where you disappeared for, what, an hour? Maybe more?"

Ewan's brain scrambles. "I don't—I mean, I just mingled. Like you suggested,” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. "Why?"

"Because," the agent says, drawing out the word like it's a prize reveal, "you've been shortlisted for a chemistry test next week."

"A chemistry test?" Ewan echoes, blinking. "For what?"

"For her film," his agent says, emphasizing the pronoun like it's blasphemous not to know who you are. "It's one of those secret big-budget Hollywood projects only top actors are getting called for. We didn't submit you because—well, not to be rude, but you're not exactly on their radar for that level yet."

Ewan's heart starts pounding. He sits up straighter, gripping the phone tighter. "Wait, wait. What film? Who's—who's her?"

But he already knows the answer.

His agent drops your name, exasperated now. "Apparently she petitioned for you, Ewan. Said you'd be perfect. So what did you do?”

Ewan is stunned into silence. He leans back against the couch, a slow grin spreading across his face as the pieces click into place. You. You'd done this. You’d reached out and used your pull to bring him into your orbit again.

"What did I do?" he repeats. "Oh, nothing much. Just... made an impression."

"Well, whatever it was, it worked. Chemistry tests are next week in L.A. They'll send over the details. And Ewan," the agent pauses, lowering their voice slightly, "don't screw this up. This is huge."

"I won't," Ewan says, his tone confident now. "I promise."

When the call ends, he stares at his phone for a long moment, the grin still lingering. He glances back at your Instagram profile, his thumb poised over the Follow button again. Then he snorts, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside him.

"What's the point?” he mutters to himself, his grin turning into a full-on self-satisfied smirk. "I'll see you soon enough."

He reaches for the bottle of Guinness instead, lifting it in a silent toast to fate—or whatever it is that's tied you two together.

Something came out of all that mingling after all.

taglist: @bitchception @insideyourimagination @angels-wouldnt-help-youu @seamaiden @silverdragonfly @powpowjinxlife @starfishjellyfish5 @shellysa14 @delespresso @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @ninihrtss @believeinthefireflies95 @peachysunrize @darktrashsoulbear

#do me no good #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell smut #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd

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heartsbyani · 2 months ago

Text

over matcha lattes ୨୧ to something more?

[ 승민‎ ] ✷ ‎ . . 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖼 𝖺𝖼𝖾 — 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗃𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗌 and puppies. . ?

⟡ read the sequel here ⟡

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!seungmin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader g. fluff , humour , uni!au , classmates to lovers, skz ensemble. II,3OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ L𝒾BRARY . 𓋜 . cw. bantering , jokes , intimacy. ✦ requested. ! ࿐

yani's note ! ✿ 600 followers aaaa !!!!! also new fic layout, yes, very cutesy very demure. thank you to anon for the lovely request !! >< answering more requested fics soon <3 this might have a sequel, (which is requested by another anon, again.) !! when yn and seungmo are already dating heheheheh. hope you all like it !!! comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3

y/n had always been a walking ray of sunshine. the way she bounded into the university cafeteria every morning, beaming like she had a personal spotlight, made her an unmissable presence. today was no different. with her hair loosely tied into a messy ponytail and a bright yellow cardigan that made her look like spring personified, she wove through the crowd, waving at familiar faces and exchanging cheerful hellos.

"felix!" she called out, spotting her blond-haired best friend at their usual table. felix turned around with an amused grin, holding a tray piled precariously with food.

"you look like you're auditioning for a yogurt commercial,"

"and you'd be the overworked single dad in the background trying to keep me away from sugary snacks," she shot back, grabbing one of the croissants from his tray.

behind them, hyunjin sauntered in, looking like he had just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. he rolled his eyes at their banter, brushing his long hair out of his face. "can you two stop flirting for two seconds? some of us are trying to exist without getting cavities."

felix and y/n gasped in mock offense simultaneously.

"hyun, i'm wounded," y/n said, clutching her chest. "this is friendship, okay? try it sometime."

"not when it looks like a rom-com b-plot," hyunjin deadpanned, sliding into his seat.

as rina and aeri joined the group, the table quickly became a hub of laughter and noise, with jokes flying left and right.

across the room, someone, was watching.

well, watching was a strong word. more like…occasionally glancing up from his laptop. he had a prime spot at the far end of the cafeteria, where he could quietly work on his assignments. most of the time, the noise didn’t bother him. but y/n’s voice had a way of cutting through every other sound—bright, melodic, and so unapologetically full of life.

"you're staring again."

jisung’s teasing voice broke through seungmin’s thoughts. he looked up to see his friend grinning at him from across the table.

"i’m not staring," seungmin said flatly, returning to his notes.

"you’re staring," jeongin chimed in, smirking as he leaned over to snag one of jisung’s fries. "it’s okay, though. we all know you have a soft spot for the sunshine girl."

seungmin shot them both a withering look. "she’s loud. that’s all."

"loud and cute," jisung added. "don’t worry, man. it’s endearing."

before seungmin could retort, y/n’s voice rang out across the cafeteria again, this time much closer.

"seungmin!"

he froze. sure enough, there she was, skipping toward their table like she had all the time in the world.

"why do you guys always sit here by yourselves?" she asked, plopping down in the seat next to him before he could say a word. her friends trailed behind her, chatting amongst themselves but clearly amused by her antics.

"because it’s quiet," seungmin replied, his tone clipped.

"not anymore," jisung whispered, earning a glare from seungmin.

y/n didn’t seem to notice the tension. she leaned over, peering at his laptop screen. "what are you working on?"

"a paper."

"what’s it about?"

seungmin sighed. "you wouldn’t understand."

"oh, come on! try me," she said, resting her chin on her hand and giving him her full attention.

"it’s about the correlation between music theory applications and cognitive development," he said, hoping to scare her off with the overly academic phrasing.

y/n blinked. then she grinned. "that’s so cool! do you think it’s true? like, do people who understand music better think differently?"

seungmin blinked, caught off guard by her genuine curiosity. "well…yes," he admitted. "there’s some evidence that it improves problem-solving skills."

"see? you can explain it in normal-person language," y/n teased, nudging his arm.

the table erupted into laughter, and seungmin fought the urge to roll his eyes. but when he glanced at y/n, her smile was so warm and sincere that he felt his annoyance melt away just a little.

maybe she wasn’t so bad.

"careful, seungmin," jisung whispered. "you might actually start enjoying her company."

"shut it."

it was an overcast morning, the kind where the sky seemed to hold its breath, and the world below carried on in muted anticipation. y/n strolled into her economics lecture, her wavy black hair bouncing slightly as she adjusted the strap of her tote bag. her signature energy had dimmed slightly today; the clouds seemed to tug at her mood, though she masked it well with her usual bright smile.

the lecture hall was buzzing with the chatter of students, most of whom were busy complaining about their upcoming projects. y/n spotted felix waving at her from their usual spot near the back, and she hurried over, plopping into the seat beside him.

“late night again?” felix teased, nudging her with his shoulder.

“guilty,” y/n admitted, stifling a yawn. “i was helping rina practice her speech. you know how she gets—everything has to be perfect.”

felix chuckled. “you’re too nice for your own good.”

before y/n could respond, the professor—a middle-aged man with a perpetually frazzled look—strode into the room, carrying a stack of papers. he set them down with a heavy sigh, silencing the room.

“all right, everyone, settle down. as you know, your mid-semester project accounts for 30% of your grade.”

groans rippled through the room, but y/n straightened in her seat, already scribbling notes.

“i’ll be assigning you partners,” the professor continued, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “the goal is to analyze a real-world economic issue and present a comprehensive report. you’ll have three weeks to complete it.”

y/n exchanged a quick glance with felix, who smirked. “bet you’ll get stuck with someone boring,” he whispered.

“or worse,” y/n whispered back, “someone who doesn’t do their share of the work.”

the professor began calling out names, pairing students at random. y/n listened intently, silently hoping she’d be paired with someone easygoing.

“…kim seungmin and y/n l/n.”

well that wasn't surprising.

her head snapped up.

“seungmin?” she repeated under her breath, her eyes darting toward the other side of the lecture hall.

sure enough, there he was, seated near the front with his usual straight-backed posture and composed expression. he didn’t even look her way, just calmly noted down her name in his notebook.

felix snickered. “good luck. maybe you’ll finally break through his ice-cold demeanor.”

y/n gave him a playful glare before gathering her things and heading down the steps toward seungmin.

as she approached, he glanced up, his dark eyes meeting hers with the faintest hint of surprise.

“hey, partner,” she said cheerfully, trying to ignore the slight knot in her stomach. “looks like we’re stuck together for this one.”

“seems so,” he replied, his tone neutral.

his face, as always, was unreadable. his neatly styled hair and pressed shirt made him look effortlessly put-together, a stark contrast to y/n’s cozy cardigan and slightly scuffed sneakers.

“do you have time to discuss this today?” she asked. “there’s this cafe near campus where—”

“i know the one,” he interrupted. “it’s fine. let’s meet there at two.”

“great!” y/n said, her smile unwavering. “i’ll see you then.”

as the economics lecture had ended, seungmin packed up his belongings with his usual efficiency, slinging his bag over his shoulder. as he stepped out into the corridor, he was immediately intercepted by jisung, who was grinning like he’d just discovered the world’s funniest secret.

“so…” jisung began, falling into step beside him.

seungmin raised an eyebrow. “so what?”

“you’re partnered with her,” jisung said, practically vibrating with glee.

“who’s her?” jeongin chimed in, suddenly appearing at seungmin’s other side.

“y/n,” jisung answered, dragging out her name dramatically.

jeongin’s eyes widened, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “the sunshine girl? the one who makes it her life’s mission to befriend everyone?”

“that’s the one,” jisung confirmed, nudging seungmin with his elbow. “how does it feel to be the chosen one?”

seungmin rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. “it’s just a project. we’ll get it done, and that’s it.”

ryujin and yuna joined the group then, ryujin immediately catching onto the conversation. “what’s this about?” she asked, her sharp gaze darting between them.

“seungmin got paired with y/n for the econ project,” jeongin supplied, clearly enjoying the situation.

ryujin’s eyebrows shot up. “y/n? oh, this is going to be good.”

“why?” seungmin asked, his tone exasperated.

“because she’s basically your polar opposite,” yuna said, her voice light with amusement. “you avoid people; she attracts them. you’re all about efficiency; she probably spends half her time doodling in her notebooks.”

“you’re underestimating her,” yeji chimed in, catching up to the group. “she’s actually really smart. i’ve seen her in class—she’s not just about the bubbly personality.”

seungmin shot her a look of mild surprise but said nothing.

“still,” jisung said, grinning, “i can’t wait to see how this goes. who knows? maybe she’ll finally melt that ice-cold heart of yours.”

seungmin sighed. “can you all find something else to talk about?”

“not a chance,” jeongin said, and the group dissolved into laughter as they walked toward the campus courtyard.

meanwhile, y/n practically skipped out of the lecture hall, her usual energy returning in full force. she immediately spotted felix, hyunjin, rina, and aeri waiting for her near the lockers.

“well?” felix asked as soon as she approached. “who’s the lucky partner?”

“seungmin,” y/n announced, pulling her bag strap higher on her shoulder.

the group collectively froze.

“seungmin? kim seungmin?” hyunjin said, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“yup,” y/n replied, popping the “p” as she leaned against the locker.

“oh my god,” rina said, covering her mouth with her hand. “the seungmin like the class ace?”

“mr. perfectly composed,” aeri added, folding her arms. “how did that happen?”

y/n shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “guess the universe thought it’d be fun to put a sunshine and a storm cloud together.”

“do you think he’s annoyed?” felix asked, tilting his head thoughtfully.

“probably,” y/n said with a laugh. “but it’s not like i’m going to let that stop me.”

“i can already picture it,” hyunjin said, his tone dripping with melodrama. “you’ll be all smiles and rainbows, and he’ll sit there glaring at you like you’re the bane of his existence.”

“that’s probably accurate,” y/n admitted, giggling.

“you’re going to have to work hard to get through to him,” rina said. “he’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to.”

“challenge accepted,” y/n declared, holding up a fist in mock determination.

“just don’t overwhelm him,” aeri said, though her smile was teasing. “you have a tendency to… how do i put this… shine a little too brightly sometimes.”

“me? overwhelm someone?” y/n asked, feigning innocence.

“you’re very adamant.”

“but in the best way,” rina added.

“exactly,” y/n said, flashing them a grin. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a coffee date with mr. storm cloud.”

“good luck,” hyunjin called after her as she walked away.

“you’re going to need it!” felix added, laughing.

the air in the cafe was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the dreary gray of the day outside. golden light spilled through the large glass windows, painting soft highlights on the oak furniture and the framed watercolor prints lining the walls. the hum of a coffee machine harmonized with the low murmur of conversations and the occasional clink of ceramic cups.

seungmin sat near the window, his usual spot, with his arms folded and a faintly bored expression on his face. the green hue of his matcha latte swirled lazily in the mug in front of him, its foam dusted with a delicate sprinkle of matcha powder. his laptop was open, the screen already filled with meticulously organized notes for their project.

he glanced at his watch, exhaling quietly. she was late.

by two minutes.

before he could think too much about it, the cafe door opened with a cheerful chime, letting in a rush of cool air and the familiar sound of her voice.

“there you are!” y/n called, her energy somehow brighter than the café’s lighting. she waved at him, her tote bag bouncing against her side as she weaved through the tables to reach him.

“you’re late,” seungmin said flatly as she slid into the seat across from him.

“by like, two minutes,” she countered, flashing him a grin that could disarm a storm.

y/n dropped her tote bag onto the floor and leaned forward, her gaze falling on the mug in front of him. “is that a matcha latte?”

“...yes?”

her eyes widened, and she clasped her hands together dramatically. “i did not peg you as a matcha person. you just became ten times more interesting.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. “and what exactly did you peg me as?”

“black coffee,” she said instantly, as if it were obvious. “you know, something bitter and unapproachable.”

“i don’t know whether to be offended or impressed by how specific that was,” he said dryly.

“take it as a compliment,” she said, waving her hand. “anyway, i’m getting one too. be right back!”

before seungmin could respond, she was already bouncing toward the counter, her black, wavy hair swishing behind her. he watched as she gestured animatedly while ordering, her voice carrying faintly over the café’s soft playlist.

when she returned, she was balancing a matcha latte in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other. she set them down with a flourish, her eyes sparkling.

“now we match,” she said, nodding at their identical drinks.

seungmin stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “do you ever run out of energy?”

“nope!” she chirped, taking a sip of her latte. “i thrive on optimism, caffeine, and sheer determination.”

he gave her a look that bordered on disbelief. “that explains a lot.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, leaning forward with mock offense.

“it means,” he began, leaning back in his chair, “that you’re probably the kind of person who volunteers for everything, stays up too late, and takes on way more than you can handle.”

y/n blinked at him, caught off guard by how accurate he was.

“before you ask, let’s just say you’re not exactly subtle,”

“well,” she said, recovering quickly, “you’re not exactly a mystery, either.”

“oh?” he said, crossing his arms. “do tell.”

“you’re the guy who avoids people but secretly observes everything,” she said, counting off on her fingers. “you’re the top of our class, duh—overachiever, for sure—but you act like you don’t care about grades. and you definitely judge people silently.”

he stared at her, one corner of his mouth twitching. “not bad.”

“see? i’m not subtle, but i’m perceptive,” she said triumphantly, taking another sip of her latte.

seungmin sighed, shaking his head. “this is going to be a long three weeks.”

“oh, come on,” she said, grinning. “admit it. you’re at least a little glad we’re working together.”

“i’d rather drink bitter, unapproachable black coffee for three weeks straight,” he deadpanned.

y/n burst out laughing, drawing a few amused glances from the other tables. “you’re funny when you’re grumpy, you know that?”

“i’m not grumpy,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

“sure you’re not,” she teased, pulling out her notebook and flipping it open. “okay, mr. matcha-latte-is-my-personality, let’s get to work.”

for the next hour, they hashed out ideas for their project, their conversation an entertaining mix of intellectual debate and playful banter. y/n’s colorful pens danced across the pages of her notebook, while seungmin’s precise typing filled the spaces in between.

“wait,” y/n said suddenly, tapping her pen against her chin. “what if we include a survey? like, ask people why they prefer local coffee shops over big chains?”

seungmin looked at her, slightly impressed despite himself. “that’s actually… a good idea.”

“see?” she said, beaming. “teamwork makes the dream work.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree.

as they packed up their things, y/n looked at him thoughtfully. “you know, you’re not as scary as people think.”

“and you’re more tolerable than i expected,” he replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“aw, was that a compliment?” she teased, walking beside him toward the door.

“don’t push your luck,” he said, holding the door open for her.

such a gentleman.

the next day, seungmin found himself back at the same corner table of the cafe, his laptop open, and his fingers resting lightly on the keyboard. he had arrived early again, and his usual matcha latte sat in its familiar spot, the faint green foam already starting to lose its swirl.

he glanced at his watch, fully expecting her to be a few minutes late again. sure enough, the door chimed exactly three minutes past the hour, and there she was.

“three minutes late,” seungmin remarked without looking up from his screen.

“consistent, aren’t i?” y/n chirped, setting her bag down with a thud and sliding into her seat across from him. her hair was loosely tied back today, a few stray curls framing her face.

seungmin’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. “consistently late isn’t something to be proud of.”

“agree to disagree,” she replied, pulling out her notebook and a handful of pens that were, unsurprisingly, color-coded.

her latte arrived shortly after, along with a croissant she ordered, and she immediately broke off a piece, offering it to him. “want some?”

“no.”

“suit yourself,” she said, popping the piece into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “so, where were we?”

“market analysis,” seungmin said, his tone all business as he turned his laptop to show her the data he had compiled.

the next hour passed in a surprisingly productive rhythm: y/n sketching out ideas with colorful diagrams and annotations, and seungmin structuring their findings into coherent sections. but, as always, their conversation veered off course every now and then.

“why are you so into matcha, anyway?” y/n asked at one point, leaning her chin on her hand.

seungmin paused, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. “it’s subtle. balanced. not overly sweet.”

“so, basically the opposite of me,” she quipped with a grin.

“exactly,” he said without missing a beat.

y/n laughed, the sound light and contagious. “you know, you’re a lot funnier than people give you credit for.”

“maybe people just don’t pay attention,” he replied, smirking slightly.

“or maybe you’re secretly a comedian and no one’s cracked the code yet,” she said, scribbling something in her notebook.

seungmin glanced at her notebook. “are you doodling again?”

“it’s brainstorming,” she said defensively, holding up the page. it was covered in little clouds and stars alongside bullet points about their project.

he sighed, though there was no real annoyance in it. “i don’t know how your brain works.”

“and yet,” she said with a wink, “here we are. perfectly balanced, like your precious matcha.”

the cafe became their unofficial meeting spot, the hum of the espresso machines and the chatter of students forming a familiar backdrop to their study sessions.

each day followed a similar pattern. seungmin would arrive early, his notes already meticulously organized. y/n would burst in a few minutes late, full of energy and carrying an ever-changing assortment of pastries.

their conversations became less about the project and more about each other as the days passed.

“you were in the debate club in high school?” y/n asked one day, wide-eyed.

“briefly,” seungmin admitted, not looking up from his laptop.

“i can totally see it,” she said, nodding. “all calm and logical, probably tearing your opponents apart with facts and wit.”

“is that your way of saying i’m argumentative?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“no, it’s my way of saying you’re scary smart,” she said, grinning.

he didn’t respond, but she noticed the faintest hint of color rise to his cheeks.

another day, y/n told him about her childhood. “i used to write letters to random people in the neighborhood,” she said, laughing at the memory. “just little notes, you know? telling them to have a great day or sharing a joke. my mom thought i was nuts.”

“that tracks,” seungmin said dryly, though there was a soft smile tugging at his lips.

by the end of the first week, their dynamic had settled into an easy rhythm. y/n’s chatter filled the spaces seungmin left, and his quick, witty remarks kept her on her toes.

one evening, as the cafe began to empty out, y/n looked at him thoughtfully. “you know, i think we’re not as different as we seem.”

seungmin glanced up, curious. “how so?”

“you act all cold and distant, but you’re actually super thoughtful,” she said, pointing her pen at him. “and i might seem like i’m all over the place, but i actually work really hard to make things perfect.”

he considered her words for a moment, then nodded. “maybe you’re right.”

“of course i am,” she said, smiling.

the usual morning buzz of the café wrapped around y/n as she entered, her tote bag slung over her shoulder. the golden glow of the hanging lights reflected off her black curls as she scanned the room, finding their usual spot by the window empty. for once, she had beaten seungmin here.

sliding into the seat that was unofficially hers now, she set her things down and strolled to the counter. today, she had a plan.

“i’ll have a caramel macchiato,” she said brightly to the barista, “and—oh, a matcha latte as well. to go with it.”

the barista smiled, tapping the order into the screen. y/n hummed along with the soft café music as she waited, glancing toward the door every now and then. the matcha latte wasn’t for her—it was for him.

the drinks arrived quickly, and y/n carried them back to the table, placing the matcha latte on his side of the table with a satisfied nod. she had barely taken a sip of her macchiato when the café door chimed, and seungmin walked in.

he paused when he saw her sitting there, looking unusually early, sipping her drink and doodling in the margins of her notebook. his gaze flickered to the matcha latte already waiting on the table.

“you’re early,” he said as he approached, his voice as calm and measured as always.

“surprise,” she said cheerfully, lifting her drink in a mock toast. “and i got you this.” she nodded toward the matcha latte.

seungmin blinked, momentarily thrown off. he stared at the latte, then back at her. “you got me a matcha latte?”

“yep. extra foam, no sugar. that’s how you like it, right?” she said, her tone breezy.

his lips parted slightly in surprise, and for a split second, she thought he might actually smile. “you noticed that?”

y/n shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the rush of pride she felt. “well, we’ve been meeting here for over a week. i’d have to be pretty oblivious not to notice.”

seungmin slid into his seat, his expression carefully neutral. but the faintest trace of warmth flickered in his eyes as he picked up the cup. “thanks.”

“you’re welcome,” she said, grinning. “see? i can be thoughtful too.”

he rolled his eyes but took a sip, the familiar flavor calming him more than he cared to admit. “don’t let it go to your head.”

“too late,” she teased, leaning her chin on her hand.

they had just begun discussing their final outline when the café door opened again, letting in a gust of cool air and a burst of familiar voices.

“hey, isn’t that y/n?” ryujin’s voice rang out, loud enough to turn a few heads. she was flanked by yuna and yeji, with jisung and jeongin trailing behind. minho followed at a leisurely pace, his hands shoved into his pockets.

y/n waved them over, her face lighting up. “guys!”

seungmin groaned under his breath, already bracing himself for the chaos about to ensue.

ryujin reached the table first, her sharp eyes immediately landing on seungmin. “well, well. didn’t expect to see you here with y/n.”

“we’re working on a project,” seungmin said flatly, glancing at her with mild annoyance.

“sure you are,” ryujin said, smirking as she slid into the seat beside y/n.

yuna and yeji sat down on the other side of y/n, while jisung and jeongin squeezed into the remaining space. minho stayed standing, leaning casually against the back of seungmin’s chair.

“is that a matcha latte?” jisung asked, pointing at seungmin’s cup.

seungmin raised an eyebrow. “yes. is that a problem?”

“not at all,” jisung said with a grin. “just didn’t think you’d be into something so…trendy.”

“trendy?” seungmin repeated, his tone incredulous.

“leave him alone,” y/n interjected, swatting jisung lightly on the arm. “matcha is great, and seungmin has good taste.”

seungmin glanced at her, surprised by her defense. “thanks…i guess.”

the group erupted into teasing laughter, and seungmin groaned again, this time louder. “this is exactly why i don’t hang out with you people.”

“oh, come on, seungmin,” ryujin said, nudging his shoulder. “you secretly love us.”

“i really don’t,” he said, deadpan.

but even as the banter continued, y/n noticed the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. it was fleeting, barely there—but it was enough.

as the conversation swirled around them, y/n leaned closer to him, her voice low enough for only him to hear. “see? it’s not so bad having company.”

he shot her a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “you’re exhausting.”

“and yet, here you are,” she said with a wink.

seungmin didn’t reply, but he took another sip of his matcha latte, the warmth of the drink matching the faint warmth in his chest. maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t so bad after all.

the study session had gone by surprisingly smoothly, the usual mix of bickering and banter lightening the load of the project. the rest of their friends had left the café an hour ago, leaving y/n and seungmin to finish up the last few points of their outline in relative peace.

“so,” y/n began, stretching her arms over her head, “are we done for today?”

seungmin glanced at his notes, then at her. “i think so. unless you want to go over the market strategy again.”

“i’d rather not,” she said with a laugh, leaning back in her chair.

he closed his laptop with a soft click and stood up, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “then we’re done.”

as they stepped out of the café, the late afternoon sunlight cast a warm, golden glow over the campus. the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of autumn leaves, and the streets were alive with the chatter of students heading to their next destination.

“wanna take a walk?” y/n asked suddenly, looking up at him.

seungmin hesitated for a moment before nodding. “sure.”

they strolled along the tree-lined paths, the leaves crunching softly under their shoes. y/n swung her bag idly by her side, her energy a little more subdued than usual.

seungmin noticed her glancing at her phone every few minutes, her brows furrowing slightly each time. he didn’t say anything at first, but as the minutes ticked by, her unease became harder to ignore.

“you’ve been checking your phone a lot,” he said finally, his tone casual but pointed.

y/n looked up, startled. “oh, it’s nothing.”

“doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, studying her carefully.

she hesitated, biting her lip. “it’s really not a big deal. just… a thing.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. instead, he changed the subject. “you know, for someone who’s always so cheery, you’re not great at hiding when something’s bothering you.”

y/n let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “guess i’m not as subtle as i thought.”

“nope,” he said, smirking slightly.

they continued walking, the conversation drifting to lighter topics. y/n told him about the time she tried to bake cookies and accidentally used salt instead of sugar, while seungmin recounted the disastrous group project he’d been part of in high school.

at one point, they stopped by a small fountain in the center of campus, the water sparkling in the golden light. y/n leaned against the edge, her face tilted up toward the sky.

“you ever think about how weird life is?” she said suddenly, her voice soft.

seungmin looked at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. “weird how?”

“like…how people come and go. how things change so fast, and you don’t even realize it until it’s already happened,” she said, her fingers trailing absently along the edge of the fountain.

he didn’t respond immediately, letting her words hang in the air. “yeah,” he said finally. “but that’s just how it is. you can’t control it.”

“i know,” she said, sighing. “it’s just…sometimes i wish things could stay the same, you know?”

seungmin watched her for a moment, the soft sunlight catching in her hair, turning it into a halo of dark curls. he didn’t know what was going on in her head, but for some reason, he found himself wanting to figure it out.

“you’re not as complicated as you think you are,” he said, breaking the silence.

y/n turned to him, blinking. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugged. “you’re easy to read. you care too much, you worry too much, and you’re too nice for your own good.”

she stared at him for a moment, then smiled. “is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“take it however you want,” he said, smirking.

as the evening wore on, they found themselves back near the café, the warm glow of the windows spilling onto the sidewalk.

“thanks for hanging out,” y/n said as they stopped outside.

“didn’t have much of a choice,” seungmin replied, though there was no edge to his tone.

y/n laughed, the sound light and genuine. “you’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be, you know.”

“don’t push your luck,” he said, but his lips quirked up in the faintest of smiles.

as they parted ways, y/n glanced at her phone one last time, her smile faltering slightly. seungmin noticed, his chest tightening with a feeling he didn’t quite understand.

he didn’t ask, not yet. but something about her quiet moments of worry lingered in his mind long after she was gone.

the morning sun cast a soft glow over the campus, but y/n barely noticed it. her fingers twitched against her phone screen, unlocking it for the hundredth time that morning. nothing. no updates.

she exhaled, locking it again, stuffing it into her coat pocket as her legs carried her to the usual meeting spot—a bench under the giant oak tree near the university fountain. felix, hyunjin, rina, and aeri were already there, their laughter blending into the murmur of passing students.

“hey, superstar,” felix greeted, his dimpled smile in place. “finally decided to grace us with your presence?”

y/n forced a smile, but hyunjin narrowed his eyes immediately. “you didn’t sleep well, did you?”

she waved him off. “i’m fine.”

aeri crossed her arms. “liar. you’ve been checking your phone like your life depends on it.”

rina sighed, her voice gentler. “still no news?”

y/n shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek. “i just.. i just hope things work out.”

felix leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “you should stop worrying so much. it’s not like you can do anything more.”

“i could,” y/n mumbled, picking at her sleeve.

hyunjin clicked his tongue. “y/n. you did everything you could. more than anyone else would.”

“but that doesn’t mean it’s enough.” her voice was quiet, yet it carried the weight of something much heavier.

aeri’s expression softened. “we know how much this means to you. but stressing yourself out isn’t going to change anything.”

y/n stayed silent, staring at her shoes.

the group lapsed into silence for a moment, the usual morning energy dimmed by the unspoken understanding hanging between them.

then, suddenly—

“okay, enough doom and gloom,” felix announced, standing up dramatically. “we have classes to suffer through, and y/n, you have a reputation to maintain as our radiant ball of sunshine.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped her.

hyunjin threw an arm around her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “see? there’s the smile. let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

she hummed noncommittally, but as they all walked to class together, her fingers still itched to check her phone again.

meanwhile.

seungmin had barely sat down at their usual cafeteria table when jisung slid into the seat beside him with all the grace of an overly excited squirrel.

“so,” jisung started, grinning. “how’s your little study buddy?”

seungmin exhaled sharply through his nose, already regretting every life choice that had led him here. “no.”

jeongin, sitting across from them, leaned forward, clearly entertained. “what do you mean, ‘no’? we didn’t even say anything yet.”

“you don’t have to,” seungmin deadpanned, stabbing at his rice with his chopsticks.

ryujin, yuna, and yeji all exchanged looks before turning to him in unison. ryujin smirked. “so. how’s y/n?”

seungmin chewed slowly, staring blankly at his tray like the answers to life’s problems were hidden somewhere between his kimchi and his soup. “fine.”

jisung gasped, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “fine? that’s all we get? kim seungmin, the master of unnecessary detail and sarcasm, is suddenly giving us fine?”

yeji leaned in. “what’s she like when she studies? still yapping?”

“she never stops talking,” seungmin muttered, rubbing his temple.

yuna giggled. “sounds like you had so much fun.”

“ecstatic.”

jeongin raised an eyebrow. “but you keep showing up.”

seungmin clicked his tongue, irritated. “because we have a project. unlike you clowns, i care about my grades.”

jisung dramatically wiped a fake tear. “we’re clowns, but you chose to sit here.”

minho, who had been silently eating until now, finally spoke up. “so, you actually like hanging out with her, huh?”

the entire table went silent.

seungmin paused mid-bite, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. “i tolerate her.”

jeongin snorted. “that’s seungmin for i-actually-enjoy-her-company.”

“i do not—”

“oh my god, guys,” jisung gasped, eyes widening as if he had just discovered the meaning of life. “what if he is the one who talks more when they’re together? what if he’s the one who yaps?”

the table erupted into laughter while seungmin sat there, unimpressed, arms crossed.

“be serious,” seungmin said flatly. “me? talkative?”

ryujin leaned her chin on her hand, grinning. “well, y/n does have a way of getting people to open up.”

seungmin scoffed, looking back down at his food. “yeah, well. doesn’t mean anything.”

jisung wiggled his eyebrows. “sure, sure. but if you ever start writing your songs about her, let us know.”

minho smirked. “or if you suddenly develop a taste for matcha lattes.”

seungmin groaned, dropping his chopsticks onto his tray. “i hate all of you.”

but even as his friends laughed and teased, he couldn’t stop the brief thought that flickered in his mind—

y/n had ordered a matcha latte for him yesterday.

and, annoyingly enough, it had tasted just a little bit better than usual.

the golden glow of the setting sun stretched across the city, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. the air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves, freshly brewed coffee from nearby shops, and the faintest whiff of something sweet—perhaps a bakery down the street, or maybe just the anticipation curling in y/n’s stomach.

she adjusted the tote bag slung over her shoulder, her fingers tightening around the straps as she, hyunjin, and felix approached the same, familiar place.

the soft jingling of the bell above the glass door greeted them as they stepped inside, the warmth of the small space wrapping around them like a hug.

the scent of pet shampoo and fresh kibble mixed with the quiet murmurs of staff and the occasional soft barks from the kennels. y/n immediately scanned the room, her heart squeezing as her eyes landed on a familiar golden figure curled up in the corner.

“star,” she breathed, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

the golden retriever perked up at the sound of her voice, his deep brown eyes lighting up as he scrambled to his feet, tail thumping wildly against the floor. his scarred eyebrow lifted slightly, his head tilting as if in disbelief before he rushed toward the gate of his enclosure, whining softly.

felix chuckled beside her. “that’s one hell of a welcome.”

hyunjin smirked. “almost makes me jealous.”

y/n shot them a look before crouching down, slipping her fingers through the gaps in the bars to brush against the soft fur of star’s head. “hi, baby,” she cooed, her voice dropping into that sweet, affectionate tone she only ever used for him. “did you miss me?”

star pressed his nose against her fingers, letting out a low, contented whimper as his tail wagged even harder.

a familiar voice spoke up from behind the counter. “you know, i think he waits for you every day.”

y/n looked up to see hana, one of the adoption center staff, smiling at her from behind the desk. she was leaning against it, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with knowing eyes.

y/n straightened up, brushing her hands on her jeans. “any news?”

hana’s smile faded slightly, and she sighed, shaking her head. “not yet. a few people came in, but they were looking for younger pups. star's still waiting.”

y/n bit her lip, glancing down at the dog who was still pressed against the gate, big brown eyes watching her intently.

her chest ached.

felix noticed, nudging her shoulder. “hey, it’s only been a little while. he’s gonna find the perfect home.”

y/n nodded, but she didn’t respond. instead, she reached into her tote bag, pulling out a small packet of homemade dog treats wrapped neatly in brown paper. she unwrapped it carefully and slipped one through the bars, watching as star took it gently from her fingers.

“you made him more treats?” hyunjin asked, amused.

she gave him a look. “of course. he deserves them.”

hana chuckled. “you’re probably spoiling him more than his future owner will.”

y/n only smiled, watching star nibble on the treat, his tail wagging slower now, more content than excited. she reached forward again, scratching behind his ears, her fingers brushing lightly against the scar above his eye.

she hated that scar. hated the reminder of what he had been through before he ended up here. hated that someone had hurt him enough to leave marks on his body.

star suddenly licked her fingers, snapping her out of her thoughts. she blinked, then let out a soft laugh.

“thanks, baby,” she murmured, rubbing his head. “guess i needed that.”

felix and hyunjin exchanged a glance but said nothing.

after a moment, y/n sighed, straightening up. “i’ll come back tomorrow.”

hana smiled. “i’m sure he’ll be waiting.”

y/n looked back down at star one last time before stepping away. but as she turned toward the door, she felt it—that nagging, sinking feeling that sat deep in her chest, whispering words she didn’t want to hear.

what if no one ever comes for him?

the streetlights flickered on as the sun dipped lower, washing the city in gold and deepening shades of blue. cars rumbled past, the occasional honk slicing through the air, but to y/n, everything felt muted—like a muffled symphony playing in the background of her mind.

she walked between the two, her steps a little slower than usual, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her oversized cardigan. she wasn’t talking as much, and that was rare.

felix noticed first. “you’re quiet,” he murmured, glancing at her from the side.

y/n hummed, eyes fixed on the pavement. “just thinking.”

hyunjin sighed. “about star.”

she didn’t answer right away. instead, she kicked a small pebble on the sidewalk, watching as it bounced ahead of them before rolling to a stop. then, softly—“he’s been there for so long.”

felix’s lips pressed into a thin line. “he’ll find a home.”

y/n exhaled slowly, hugging herself. “what if he doesn’t?”

hyunjin nudged her shoulder. “you don’t know that.”

“i don’t not know that either.”

the three of them fell silent for a few beats, the sounds of the city filling the space between them. a warm breeze tousled y/n’s hair, but it did little to chase away the weight settling in her chest.

“he’s such a good pup,” she murmured. “so kind, so sweet. and he’s still waiting for someone.”

hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “yeah, because the right person hasn’t come yet.”

y/n swallowed, shaking her head. “i wish i could take him back.”

felix reached over, squeezing her arm gently. “we know.”

her throat tightened, but she forced a smile. “why am i like this? why do i care so much?”

“because you’re you,” felix said simply. “you love things deeply. it’s who you are.”

hyunjin smirked. “it’s a little pathetic, honestly.”

y/n scoffed, shoving his arm.

but the teasing had done its job—her shoulders had relaxed just a little.

they turned a corner, nearing the familiar street where the café sat. the warm glow of its windows spilled onto the pavement, the sight usually filling y/n with comfort. but today, it only reminded her that she was late.

“crap,” she muttered, checking her phone. “seungmin’s probably gonna be pissed.”

felix snorted. “when is he not pissed?”

“you should walk in and act like nothing happened, just to see his reaction.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped out.

felix gave her one last reassuring squeeze before they reached the café. “you gonna be okay?”

y/n nodded, inhaling deeply before flashing them a grin—one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “yeah. go home before you guys start acting like overprotective mums.”

hyunjin gave her a look. “too late.”

she laughed softly, waving them off before stepping into the café.

but even as the bell jingled overhead, announcing her arrival, and the scent of roasted coffee beans wrapped around her like a familiar embrace—

her heart was still with a golden-furred boy, waiting for a home.

the café was warm, a stark contrast to the cool night air outside. the scent of espresso and vanilla swirled around y/n as she stepped inside, but tonight, the usual coziness of the place did little to lift the weight pressing down on her shoulders.

the space buzzed with quiet conversations, the occasional scrape of a chair against the wooden floor, and the low hum of indie music filtering through the speakers. a couple of students sat by the windows, heads buried in textbooks, while others scrolled through laptops, half-empty cups of coffee beside them.

and there, by their usual table in the corner—was seungmin.

he sat with his arms crossed, a glass of water in front of him, its ice long since melted and glass covered with tiny droplets. his phone rested on the table, face-down, but the second he heard the door’s bell chime, his head lifted. his gaze found hers almost immediately.

a sharp glance. then, a slow raise of his brows.

y/n gulped. oh boy.

she hurried over, pulling the chair out with a quiet scrape and plopping down with an apologetic smile. “hey—”

“you’re late.”

the two words were flat, unimpressed, dripping with that classic seungmin deadpan tone.

y/n winced. “i know, i know—i’m so sorry. i lost track of time.”

seungmin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “you always lose track of time.”

y/n bit her lip, fingers toying with the hem of her sleeve. usually, she’d fire back with some kind of playful retort. usually, she’d tease him about how he was so dramatic. usually, she’d flash a grin and brush it off.

but tonight, she just muttered a quiet, “yeah… i guess i do.”

seungmin blinked, caught slightly off guard. he had been expecting her usual antics, not this quiet, subdued version of her. his gaze flickered over her face—she wasn’t meeting his eyes, instead staring at the table, her fingers still fidgeting.

something was off.

he leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed. “alright. spill it.”

y/n finally looked up. “huh?”

“you’re too quiet,” seungmin said simply. “it’s weird. i don’t like it.”

y/n huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. “you’re acting like me not talking is a crime.”

“it is,” seungmin deadpanned. “you talk so much that i’m convinced if you ever stop, the universe will collapse in on itself.”

y/n let out a soft chuckle. “well, lucky for the universe, i’m still here.”

seungmin narrowed his eyes, scanning her expression. the laugh had been small, but it wasn’t real. and that wasn’t lucky for the universe—it was concerning.

something was definitely wrong.

but seungmin wasn’t the type to pry. at least, not directly.

instead, he reached for his matcha latte, taking a slow sip before saying, “you’re late by twenty-five minutes, by the way.”

y/n groaned, slumping against the table. “i know. i already said sorry.”

seungmin hummed. “i had to sit here. alone. staring at the wall. like some abandoned, unloved creature.”

y/n peeked up at him. “so you feel loved in my company?”

“i ordered water, alone, y/n.” seungmin shook his head, sighing. “do you understand how humiliating that was? the barista asked, ‘are you waiting for someone?’ and i had to say, ‘yeah, but she’s twenty-five minutes late and probably forgot i exist.’”

y/n groaned again, burying her face in her arms. “stop making me feel worse.”

“oh, i’m just getting started.” seungmin leaned in. “twenty-five minutes of my life that i will never get back.”

y/n lifted her head just enough to glare at him. “i should’ve been later.”

seungmin smirked. “you wouldn’t dare.”

she let out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head. “why, is it because you'll miss me so much?”

“here we are.” seungmin gestured between them. “trapped in this academic partnership of doom.”

y/n rolled her eyes, finally sitting up straight. “fine. i’m making it up to you.”

“oh?”

y/n lifted her hand, signaling the passing barista. “two matcha lattes, please.”

the barista nodded, jotting it down. “same as always?”

y/n glanced at seungmin’s half-empty water before nodding. “yeah. same.”

seungmin stared at her for a second longer, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.

he looked away, suddenly very focused on the condensation on his cup. “you’re still late.”

y/n grinned, finally—finally—looking a little like herself again. “yeah, but you’re not mad anymore.”

seungmin scoffed. “i was never mad.”

“even better.”

the matcha latte arrived a few minutes later, and y/n pushed it toward him with a triumphant look. “peace offering.”

seungmin rolled his eyes but took the cup anyway, sipping it slowly. the warmth spread through him, though he wasn’t sure if it was just from the drink anymore.

he glanced at y/n again. she still seemed a little distant—her fingers tapping idly against the table, her eyes unfocused at times. but she was trying. she was here.

and for now, that was enough.

the dorm was warm, buzzing with laughter and the easy comfort of friends who had long since learned how to exist in each other’s spaces. the soft hum of music played in the background, barely audible over the sound of hyunjin dramatically retelling some ridiculous story from his dance class, complete with exaggerated gestures and poorly executed sound effects.

"i swear, i almost died," hyunjin declared, sprawled across y/n’s bed like a lifeless corpse.

felix snorted, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "you tripped over your own foot, dude."

"it was sabotage!" hyunjin shot up, jabbing a finger in the air. "jeongin pushed me!"

rina, lying upside down on the couch, waved a dismissive hand. "jeongin literally isn't even in dance."

"then it was minho," hyunjin insisted, brows furrowed like he was solving the biggest mystery of his life. "he has it out for me."

aeri rolled her eyes. "everyone has it out for you because you’re annoying."

hyunjin gasped, clutching his chest. "how dare—"

"she’s not wrong," felix muttered under his breath.

"okay, okay," y/n giggled, lying comfortably on the floor with her legs propped up against the couch. "next story before hyunjin starts fake crying again."

felix grinned, eyes twinkling mischievously. "oh, i have one—"

but before he could even begin, y/n’s phone buzzed.

a single text.

from hana.

her heart stuttered. for a second, she just stared at the screen, her brain struggling to process what she was reading.

hey, y/n!just a heads up—there’s someone interested in star! they’re about 90% sure about adopting him, and they’ll be coming back tomorrow to make a final decision! :)

y/n’s breath caught.

the words blurred together, her brain tripping over itself to comprehend them. someone was interested. someone wanted star. he could actually, finally, hopefully have a home.

her fingers trembled as they hovered over the screen.

this was good. this was amazing.

so why did it feel like her heart had suddenly stopped?

"uh… y/n?"

she blinked.

four pairs of eyes were locked on her, concern etched across their faces.

"what happened?" felix asked, sitting up.

"you just froze,"

"dude, you looked like you saw a ghost."

y/n opened her mouth. then closed it. then opened it again—only to stay silent.

hyunjin waved a hand in front of her face. "did she get cursed or something?"

and just like that, it hit her.

excitement, relief, joy—everything crashed into her all at once.

her face lit up, and she jumped to her feet so suddenly that she almost knocked over the coffee table. "oh my god."

hyunjin flinched. "jesus—"

"what?!" aeri demanded, grabbing her wrist.

y/n practically bounced on her feet, barely able to contain herself. "someone’s interested in star!!"

the room fell silent for half a second—then erupted.

"no way!" felix shot up, eyes wide.

"are you serious?" hyunjin nearly knocked over a pillow in his excitement.

y/n nodded wildly, hands shaking with pure, unfiltered joy. "yes—yes—yes—hana just texted me! they’re not fully sure yet, but they’re 90% sure!!"

rina gasped. "that’s so close—"

"and precise.."

aeri covered her mouth. "oh my god, y/n!"

and then, suddenly, it was all too much.

tears pricked at the corners of her eyes before she could stop them, her vision going blurry as she let out a half-laugh, half-sob. "i—i'm just—so happy—"

felix reached over, wrapping her in a tight hug. "oh, y/n," he murmured. "that’s amazing."

aeri and rina piled in next, squishing her between them, and before she knew it, hyunjin tackled the group too, his arms nearly choking the life out of all of them.

"group hug!" hyunjin declared.

"hyunjin—"

"can’t breathe—"

"worth it!"

laughter bubbled up between them, the warmth of their shared happiness filling every corner of the room.

y/n sniffled, wiping at her cheeks as she pulled back. "i just—" she took a deep breath, voice trembling with excitement. "i really hope it works out. i just want him to have a home."

felix squeezed her hand. "he will."

hyunjin nodded, a rare moment of sincerity in his usually dramatic demeanor. "and if it doesn’t, we’ll figure something out. together."

y/n’s heart swelled.

for a moment, she just looked at them—at felix’s soft, knowing smile, at hyunjin’s reassuring nod, at aeri and rina’s equally teary eyes.

her family.

her people.

the streets were alive with the kind of lazy energy only a weekend morning could bring—bustling yet unhurried, kissed by golden sunlight filtering through the trees. cafés spilled over with students nursing their first coffees of the day, a soft hum of chatter filling the air. the crisp autumn breeze carried the scent of freshly baked bread from a bakery down the street, mingling with the faint aroma of brewing coffee from their usual café.

but amidst it all, y/n’s voice was the loudest thing in the universe.

“i have to tell them everything about star,” she declared, walking ahead of the group with an urgency that made it look like she was on a life-or-death mission.

“i need to make sure they know his likes, dislikes—what makes him happy, what makes him sad—oh my god, what if they don’t get him the right treats—”

“are we sure she’s not the one being put up for adoption?”

“i heard that, felix.”

aeri chuckled, shoving her hands into the pockets of her oversized hoodie. “yeah, yeah. tell us, y/n. what else does star like?”

y/n didn’t even need to be asked twice.

“he loves belly rubs,” she continued, voice animated. “and he’s not very picky about food, but he does this little head tilt when he really likes something, and it’s the cutest thing ever—”

rina cooed. “that sounds so cute—”

“it is,” y/n stressed, turning to walk backward as she spoke, her arms flailing in exaggerated enthusiasm.

“and he’s so well-behaved. like, when i tell him to sit, he actually listens—unless he’s too excited, then he just kind of vibrates in place—”

hyunjin snorted. “so basically, he’s you.”

i do not vibrate in place!”

“you kinda do.”

“i mean,” aeri chimed in, barely holding back her laughter. “look at you right now.”

and okay, fine. maybe they had a point.

because if she were to take an honest look at herself, she was bouncing on her feet slightly, practically vibrating with excitement.

but in her defense, this was a big deal.

she turned back around with a huff. “whatever. the point is—he loves people. he’s such a good boy. but he hates loud noises—like thunder? oh my god, you should’ve seen him last time. i thought my heart was gonna break.”

the group collectively awed.

rina pouted. “poor baby.”

y/n nodded solemnly. “and he’s super smart! like, he knows when i’m sad, and he just leans against me like a little weighted blanket—”

felix grinned. “again. just like you.”

“i swear to god, lee felix—”

laughter erupted through the group, bouncing off the city walls as they continued down the street, the adoption center now coming into view.

hyunjin slung an arm around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close for a second before dramatically ruffling her hair. “you’re really gonna cry, huh?”

y/n scoffed, but her lips twitched upward. “me? cry? never.”

aeri smirked. “uh-huh. sure.”

rina grinned. “we’ll see about that.”

y/n rolled her eyes, but truthfully?

she wasn’t so sure they were wrong.

the adoption center was just a few steps away now, its familiar glass doors reflecting the bright morning light. y/n’s feet slowed, just slightly, and for the first time since they left, her voice wavered.

“i’ll miss him.”

it was quiet—soft. almost lost in the weekend bustle of the city.

felix, walking beside her, immediately noticed. his teasing expression faded into something gentler, something understanding. “yeah,” he said, nudging her shoulder lightly. “i know.”

hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “you really love that dog, huh?”

y/n let out a small laugh, but it was thinner now, fragile. “of course,” she admitted.

aeri and rina exchanged a glance before moving closer, their presence warm, comforting. rina linked their arms together. “hey,” she said softly, “he’s gonna find a really good home.”

y/n nodded, swallowing. “i know.”

and she did know. she knew this was what she wanted—for star to be safe, to be happy. but still. the idea of walking into that adoption center today and possibly realizing that she’d seen him for the last time?

it hurt.

felix draped an arm over her shoulder, squeezing. “we’re here,” he murmured as they reached the doors. “ready?”

y/n inhaled, exhaled. then, she nodded.

“yeah.”

but the moment she stepped inside and saw him—his golden fur catching the sunlight, his tail wagging the second he saw her—she knew.

she was so not ready.

the adoption center was quiet—eerily so. it was one of those rare slow mornings, the usual chatter of visitors absent, leaving only the distant hum of traffic outside and the occasional bark from the kennels. the air smelled faintly of wood shavings and the subtle sweetness of pet shampoo, the kind that lingered in fur like a soft embrace.

but none of that mattered.

because the moment y/n stepped inside, he was all she could see.

“star!”

the golden retriever perked up instantly at the sound of her voice, his floppy ears twitching before he launched himself toward her with uncontainable excitement. his tail wagged wildly, his whole body practically vibrating as he reached her.

y/n barely had a second to prepare before she was tackled—star standing on his hind legs, paws pressed against her as he buried his face into her neck.

“oh my god—you menace—” y/n laughed, stumbling slightly but hugging him nonetheless, burying her face into his fur. he smelled warm, familiar, like something safe. “did you miss me? huh? did you miss me, baby?”

star whined, licking her cheek in rapid, enthusiastic swipes.

“i’ll take that as a yes.”

felix snickered from behind. “he’s actually insane about you.”

hyunjin nodded. “i mean, i get it. you do vibrate like he does.”

y/n shot them both a glare but was too busy giggling as star flopped onto his back, belly fully exposed. “ugh, fine,” she sighed dramatically, crouching down. “you win. belly rubs for you, your majesty.”

star's tail thumped against the floor excitedly as she ran her hands through his fur, tracing small patterns over his stomach. he exhaled happily, stretching his legs as if to demand 'more, human.'

“god,” aeri mused. “imagine being loved this much.”

rina smirked. “maybe if you rolled over and asked nicely—”

aeri shoved her.

“ooh, i ship!” hyunjin and felix said in unison.

meanwhile, hana leaned against the counter with a soft smile. “you got here just in time,” she said. “the guy who showed interest might be coming soon.”

y/n froze for half a second before she forced herself to keep scratching behind star's ears.

“oh,” she said, voice light, casual. “right. that’s—good.”

felix and hyunjin exchanged a glance.

“you okay?” hyunjin asked.

y/n smiled at star, watching as his eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss.

“i’m okay,” she murmured. “i just wanna enjoy this for a little longer.”

hyunjin and felix didn’t push. instead, they sat down nearby, letting her have her moment.

because even though she was smiling, they knew.

this was going to be really hard for her.

a little while later, the girl and the pup had retreated to the playroom. it was warm, filled with the scent of fresh pinewood shavings and soft blankets. the room was lined with plush beds, shelves of toys, and the occasional scratching post—even though star had zero interest in anything but y/n.

she sat cross-legged on the padded floor, giggling as the golden retriever nuzzled into her, his weight nearly knocking her over. “star, you clingy little baby,” she cooed, rubbing his ears as his tail wagged violently, his entire body practically humming with joy.

y/n flopped onto her back with a sigh, her fingers threading through his golden fur as he settled beside her, curling against her like he always did.

a small, selfish part of her wanted to keep him like this forever.

but that wasn’t fair, was it?

she exhaled, staring at the ceiling. “you’re gonna find a home today,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “i just know it.”

she smiled, squeezing his paw gently.

“and i hope they love you as much as i do.”

meanwhile, outside the playroom, hyunjin, felix, aeri, rina, and hana were hanging around the front desk when the adoption center’s door swung open. the bell chimed softly as two familiar figures strolled in—jisung, looking completely at home, and seungmin, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, looking his usual mildly unimpressed self.

felix blinked. “oh?”

hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “what are you guys doing here?”

jisung grinned. “oh, you know—just a casual weekend visit to an animal shelter. felt like staring at some cats.”

rina narrowed her eyes. “is that true, or did you just get dragged here by seungmin?”

jisung groaned. “fine, yeah, i got dragged here.” he sighed dramatically before jabbing a thumb toward his best friend. “he’s actually the one adopting today.”

felix and hyunjin’s heads tilted slightly. “oh?”

aeri’s eyes lit up. “wait—seungmin, you’re getting a pet?”

seungmin shrugged. “yeah.”

rina smirked. “let me guess. a cat.”

jisung snorted. “oh, no. this dude? a cat?” he shook his head. “nah, he’s adopting a dog.”

felix hummed. “nice. what kind?”

seungmin’s gaze flickered toward hana, who had started flipping through adoption papers. “golden retriever,” he said simply. “his name’s star. anyway, where's the staff lady?”

the moment the words left his mouth, a wave of silence crashed over the group.

hyunjin and felix both froze.

aeri and rina's jaws slightly dropped.

hana finally returned from the back, greeting seungmin with a smile, “ah, you're here! guys, he's the one who's adopting st-”

even jisung, oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, blinked in confusion.

“what?” he asked.

before anyone could answer, the door to the playroom creaked open.

and out stepped y/n, her arms wrapped around star—his golden fur glowing in the light, his tail wagging happily.

she took one step forward before her gaze landed on seungmin.

seungmin, who was already staring right back at her.

both of them squinted.

“…what are you doing here?” they asked at the same time.

jisung blinked, glancing between them. “okay, what’s happening right now—”

and then it clicked.

y/n’s eyes widened, flickering to her friends—felix, hyunjin, and rina watching the scene unfold with barely contained amusement.

“you—” she turned back to seungmin. “you’re adopting star?”

seungmin nodded, not entirely sure why she looked so shocked. “yeah?”

the room was silent for a beat.

then—

“oh my god,” y/n practically shrieked.

before seungmin could react, she launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his shoulders in a bone-crushing hug.

seungmin stiffened, eyes widening. “what the hell—”

but she was already bouncing, gripping his hoodie with sheer, uncontrollable joy.

“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god— seungmin.” she shook him, eyes shining. “you’re really adopting him??”

seungmin, still reeling, cleared his throat. “uh… yeah?”

“oh my god.”

y/n squealed, actually jumping up and down as she rapid-fired through a list of things—

“okay, okay, listen, he’s so good but sometimes he’s picky with food—he loves belly rubs but only in the morning—he doesn’t like loud noises but he loves music, i think he likes indie-rock?—oh and he’s so soft so you have to use this one dog shampoo, i’ll send you the link—oh my god, seungmin, if you forget to feed him i will end you—”

seungmin blinked, still trying to process what was happening.

meanwhile, felix and hyunjin were both howling with laughter.

“she’s so gone for that dog,” felix wheezed, wiping a tear.

“seungmin, she’s been obsessed with star,” hyunjin explained to him, still laughing. “she found him on the street months ago, brought him here herself, and has been visiting him every single day—”

“—which is why she’s been all moody lately,” rina added, grinning. “she was worried he wouldn’t find a home soon.”

seungmin slowly turned his gaze back to y/n, who was still yapping away, her hands gripping his sleeves like she was scared he’d disappear.

something inside him… softened.

she was so happy.

like—genuinely happy. practically glowing with excitement, her eyes bright, her entire body buzzing like an overcharged battery.

and it was because of him.

he cleared his throat. “okay, damn,” he muttered. “didn’t know i was winning a nobel prize for adopting a dog.”

y/n gasped. “it’s star, you ungrateful—”

jisung grinned, nudging seungmin’s shoulder. “looks like you did a good thing, min.”

seungmin exhaled, letting a small, amused smile slip.

yeah.

he had a feeling he really did.

hana leaned against the adoption center’s front desk, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold before her.

seungmin stood beside her, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, observing y/n bounce around like she had just won the lottery.

he was still processing it all.

she had really been this attached to this dog?

y/n was currently kneeling on the floor, hugging the golden retriever tightly, her fingers buried in his soft fur as she giggled, pressing kisses to the top of his head. star, for his part, was practically melting into her, his tail wagging violently, paws twitching in excitement.

hana let out a small chuckle. “she’s over the moon.”

seungmin huffed a small laugh, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “yeah, no kidding.”

hana turned to him, her expression amused but also… grateful. “seriously, though. thanks for this, seungmin.”

he glanced at her. “for what?”

she smiled knowingly, tilting her head toward y/n. “for that.”

seungmin followed her gaze.

y/n was beaming, her entire body radiating happiness as she continued to hug star, her face buried in his fur.

it was a rare kind of joy. the kind that made people forget about everything else. the kind that made time slow down for just a little while.

and for some reason…

he kind of liked that he was partially the reason behind it.

hana’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “she was really worried, you know?”

seungmin frowned slightly. “about what?”

hana gave him a look. “star.”

he blinked.

“she’s been coming here every day after class,” hana continued, her voice soft but full of meaning. “bringing treats, playing with him, making sure he wasn’t lonely. she didn’t talk about it much, but we all knew. she was so scared he’d never find a home.”

seungmin’s lips parted slightly.

“she’s been checking her phone constantly the past few days, waiting for an update. i swear, she probably manifested you into this place.” hana smirked. “and now look at her.”

seungmin glanced at y/n again.

she was now rubbing star’s belly, grinning ear to ear, still completely lost in her own little world.

his fingers curled slightly in his pockets.

…had she really been worrying this much?

and he hadn’t even noticed much?

hana’s voice broke through his thoughts again, softer this time. “so yeah. thanks, seungmin. i don’t think you realize just how much this means to her.”

he swallowed, clearing his throat. “it’s just a dog,” he muttered.

hana raised an eyebrow. “maybe to you.”

seungmin exhaled, shaking his head. “you’re making it sound like i saved a life or something.”

hana just smiled knowingly. “maybe you did.”

meanwhile, a few feet away, y/n was bouncing on her heels, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.

“seungmin, you’re the best,” she gushed, turning to him. “seriously. i don’t even know how to thank you.”

seungmin quirked an eyebrow. “you’ve already thanked me, like, ten times.”

she gasped. “not enough.”

she suddenly grabbed his hands, squeezing them tightly as she stared at him, eyes sparkling. “thank you, seungmin. i swear i could kiss you right now.”

the guy choked. “what?”

felix, who had been drinking from a soda can, almost spit it out.

y/n didn’t even realize what she had just said, too caught up in her own excitement.

“i mean—not literally— i mean, i could—i mean—you get it,” she flailed, laughing nervously.

seungmin just stared.

jisung grinned. “dude, this is the first time i’ve ever seen you speechless.”

“i hate all of you,” seungmin muttered, pulling his hands away as he rubbed the back of his neck, ears ever so slightly red.

but then—

y/n clapped her hands together. “wait.”

seungmin braced himself. “what now?”

her eyes shone as she grabbed his arm. “okay, listen—so star loves sleeping on soft blankets, so please buy him those, and oh my god, he loves head pats—especially before sleeping—”

seungmin sighed. “here we go again.”

felix snickered. “good luck, bro.”

hyunjin clapped his shoulder. “you signed up for this.”

aeri beamed. “welcome to the rest of your life, seungmin.”

and all seungmin could do was exhale as y/n continued to speak, her happiness so loud, so vibrant, so unbelievably contagious—

that, for once, he didn’t actually mind.

“is your little girlfriend going to come visit us and the pup daily now?” jisung had murmured.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts

!! please let me know under this post, or this one, if i forgot you in the taglist, my inactivity made me lose track, i'm really sorry !!

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tinkaaabutt · 3 months ago

Text

Supermodel- ekko.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A fix inspired by Supermodel by our fav liar sza!

Ekko leaned against the brick wall of the bodega, his skateboard resting beside him. The low hum of the city was like a song he couldn’t get out of his head—car horns blaring, laughter spilling from a nearby hookah lounge, and the faint bass of a song blasting out of someone’s car. He pulled his hoodie tighter against the chill of the evening, but his attention wasn’t on any of it.

It was on you.

You stepped out of the corner store, all legs and confidence, carrying a bag of snacks and a look that could stop traffic. Your oversized leather jacket fell off one shoulder, showing off a fitted tank top underneath. Gold hoops glinted in your ears, catching the light, and your sneakers—freshly creased Air Forces—were spotless, as usual.

You looked like you belonged in the pages of a magazine, but the thing was, you didn’t care about being noticed. And that’s what made it impossible not to.

“Damn, you just gonna keep staring?” you called out, your voice cutting through the city noise like a melody.

Ekko smirked, pushing off the wall. “Maybe. You make it kinda hard not to.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile playing on your lips betrayed you. “Don’t start, Ekko. What’re you even doing out here? Waiting for me?”

“Who says I wasn’t?” he shot back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, brushing past him. “Well, if you’re gonna waste your night following me, at least make yourself useful.”

You didn’t wait for him to catch up, but you didn’t have to. Ekko grabbed his board and fell into step beside you, matching your pace as you strolled down the block.

“Where we headed?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Nowhere special,” you said with a shrug. “Just needed some air. You know how it is.”

Ekko nodded. He did know. Life could feel heavy sometimes, like you were carrying the weight of everyone else’s expectations. You wore yours well, though—like armor. But Ekko had seen enough to know it didn’t always feel like it fit.

“You good?” he asked after a moment.

You side-eyed him, raising a perfectly arched brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just asking,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You know, in case you needed someone to talk to or whatever.”

You laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest tighten. “You’re cute for that. But I don’t need a therapist, Ekko. I’m fine.”

He didn’t push it, but he didn’t believe you, either. Instead, he pulled a snack out of the bag you were carrying—a bag of spicy chips—and opened it without asking.

“Seriously?” you said, stopping to glare at him.

“What?” he said, popping a chip in his mouth. “You weren’t gonna share?”

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered, snatching the bag back. But your lips twitched, and Ekko knew he’d won.

The two of you wandered aimlessly, weaving through side streets and alleys lit by the warm glow of streetlights. The conversation shifted from light jokes to music recommendations, to shared memories that made both of you laugh until your stomachs hurt.

By the time you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, the city had quieted, and the air was filled with that late-night stillness that made everything feel softer.

“You ever think about how people see you?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Ekko glanced at you, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Like…” You hesitated, your fingers toying with the hem of your jacket. “People think I’ve got it all together, you know? Like I’m some kind of supermodel or whatever. But they don’t actually see me.”

Ekko leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. “I see you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I see you. Not just the way you walk into a room like you own it, or the way you roast me every chance you get. I see the way you care about people, even when you don’t want them

to notice. I see the way you hustle, the way you never let anyone catch you slipping. I see you.”

Your laughter faded, replaced by a soft, almost vulnerable expression. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. For once, you didn’t have a witty comeback or a sharp edge to deflect with.

“You don’t gotta do that,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Act like I’m… more than what people see.”

“You are more,” Ekko said without hesitation. His brown eyes met yours, steady and unshaken. “And if nobody else is gonna remind you of that, I will.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. The city lights reflected in your eyes, and for a moment, Ekko forgot where he was.

“You’re really good at this, huh?” you said after a while, breaking the tension with a smirk.

“Good at what?”

“Making a girl feel seen,” you teased, though your voice was softer than usual. “Careful, hero. You keep this up, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

Ekko chuckled, leaning back against the bench. “Maybe I do.”

You blinked, clearly not expecting him to admit it so easily. “You don’t scare easy, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

For the first time, you didn’t have a quick retort. Instead, you leaned back, the tension in your shoulders easing as you let out a quiet sigh.

“Alright, Ekko,” you said, your voice light but sincere. “You think you can handle me? Let’s see if you’re about it.”

He grinned, pulling out his phone and holding it up like a microphone. “I’m ready for the interview. First question— how does it feel to be the most smartest caring girl on this lousy ass planet?”

You burst out laughing, swatting at his arm. “Shut up!”

“Not until you answer!”

And just like that, the heaviness between you melted away. The two of you stayed in the park for hours, talking about everything and nothing, stealing chips from each other’s bag, and daring the city to try and interrupt.

Because if ekko couldn't see anything he'd always will see you.

Ahhh i love him sm👌🏾👌🏾 i wrote this one for the non gay gyals hopefully theyll enjoy it

#ekko arcane #ekko x reader #black reader #league of lesbians #arcane #sevika #vi arcane

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tinkerbellknockoff · 3 months ago

Text

beautiful blue hair // jinx x fem! reader

jinx eased quickly into her new life at demacia, deciding to do something for the first time in her life- see a hair stylist.

-- a/n: had this idea after staring at s2ep9 jinx and realizing that haircut would probably grow out terribly. this was written at 3am, enjoy!

jinx found being at demacia good enough. it was a very different culture than the life in zaun that she was used to, but arguably, she thought that was great for her. she was free to be herself, with no repercussion because here- she had no weight of the past weighing her down.

the only thing? she mildly regretted the haircut of choice that ekko had given her. during her crisis back in zaun, ekko had came to her side- he helped her. and, even with jinx's hyperindependency, she knew she had bits to thank him for.

looking in the mirror, seeing the comically long bang hanging in front of her face compared to her bob length hair, she figured this was the one thing she wasn't going to thank him for.

it looked great when it was first cut, though, which was a bonus.

but jinx's hair grew freakishly fast. weekly in her workshop she'd give herself little trims to tame her hair. unfortunately for her, she grabbed a whole lot of things while packing her bag- one thing she didn't?

scissors.

jinx let out an annoyed huff, "oh, c'mon! seriously? out of all things?"

she spoke to herself, the walls echoing back nothing but the sound of her own voice. jinx's hands continued to brush through her hair, looking at the chopped layers in mild distaste. she had never been one to ever care about her appearance but for some reason, this peeved her. real bad.

during her examining, her eyes caught a glimpse of something. during her time walking and exploring demacia, she was given scattered flyers, business owners wanting to promote their stores. she chose not to throw them away, believing that since she was making a new life for herself, she might try to get out more. normally. without explosives, even though she'll find it significantly less entertaining.

"daffodil's," jinx muttered, the name slipping off her tongue as she picked up the flyer from the pile. she hummed in interest, eyeing the design, promoting a small salon that had recently opened.

jinx scanned it over one last time before sighing to herself, "... why not?"

☆☆

jinx slowly pulled open the door of the tiny salon. it was in the downtown area, tucked into a less busy area. she liked that a lot.

she was greeted with a soft smell of sandalwood, the sound of the heater in the building slightly humming, giving a background to the idle chattering of the few people that were inside.

a girl, possibly around jinx's age, sat at the front desk. the desk was a little bit to the side of the entrance, the person sitting there catching a glimpse of whoever entered first. but, the girl was too preoccupied.

the girl sat comfortably on a chair, slightly reclined back as she calmly chewed gum, occasionally popping a small bubble. her feet were elevated, resting on the desk, a magazine in her hands as she loosely flipped through the page.

jinx's eyes scanned her over, biting her lip almost nervously. why hadn't she just decided to go out and buy a damn pair of scissors? would've been much less work. she walked up to the front desk, her boots clanking against the floor in a rhythmic, melodic kind of way. this caught the girl's attention, causing her to look up from the magazine, her chewing stopping for a second.

as jinx finally got up to the counter, the girl adjusted, sitting upright and giving the blue-haired girl a grin. she tilted her head, her (h/c) hair tumbling to the side as she looks at jinx.

"hi there! how can i help ya? do you have an appointment?"

the girl's relaxed, bubbly demeanor was almost nauseating to jinx. she never once dealt with someone so... she doesn't even know. she took a deep breath in, calming her nerves she didn't realize existed, giving the girl a grin in return.

"hi! i was wondering if you could do... erm..." jinx's voice trailed off for a moment. she doesn't know terminology. an appointment? is that the word? no, those are in advance-

her thoughts stopped yelling at her as the girl gave jinx a soft smile. "we do walk-ins. you looking for a new do?"

the girl giggled at her own terminology, moving the chair back to stand up. jinx nodded, "yup, one of those."

"great. i'm free to take you back," the girl beckoned jinx with her hand, leading her to the furthest chair in the corner, patting the seat as she grabs an apron from the side. "what can i do for ya?"

jinx slipped into the chair. it was so comfortable to her, it almost felt foreign. it was wood but it was lightly cushioned, and had a slight modern feel. jinx's reflection greeted her, one that she only recently got used to with having a new unbroken mirror.

jinx cleared her throat, "just.. wanting it fixed. or whatever."

the girl lightly ran a finger through jinx's hair, bringing it up to assess the layers in her hair. jinx slightly tensed at the new touch, but didn't let it alarm her too much.

"at home hairdo, huh?" the girl spoke humorously, meeting jinx's gaze in the mirror. jinx huffed, refraining from giving the girl a glare. she didn't want to be made fun of for her decisions, and before she could make a retort, the girl started speaking again, "i get it. once i accidentally cut my hair up to my ears- wait i shouldn't be telling you that."

the girl cut herself off, and that got a laugh from jinx, giving you a lopsided grin in the mirror, "don't tell me that when you're gonna be chopping at my hair, toots."

the girl gave a sheepish shrug, before asking, "anything in particular in mind?"

jinx pursed her lips for a moment. did she? no. "just... whatever you want, yeah?"

the girl rose her eyebrows, "trusting a complete stranger with ya looks? bold. i dig it."

jinx found the girl funny. jinx watched the girl begin to even out the layers in her hair, chopping her hair to a length just right underneath her chin. jinx liked it so far.

eventually, the girl came around to the front, bending slightly to meet jinx's height as she grabbed at the long strand of hair, evening it out as she chopped a pair of bangs on jinx. the position got jinx to awkwardly clear her throat, looking away.

even with the avoidance, the girl started speaking up, "ya know, people say that hair holds memories."

jinx didn't know that.

"so what was so special about this one piece of hair?" the girl grinned in a playful manner, and jinxed watched the long strands fall onto her lap. she looked in the mirror and there were a pair of bangs just falling right above her eyebrows, nicely blending in with the rest of her hair.

"aren't you nosey?" jinx quips back, though without malice. jinx thought this girl was nice, even without knowing her for that long at all. and, seeing her new hair, she couldn't but have some approval.

"just makin' conversation, yeah?" the girl giggled. "let's get you washed?"

jinx hadn't realize how long it'd been since she washed her hair.

feeling the girl's hands and manicured nails shampoo at her scalp was almost a moan worthy, toe curling experience as the girl didn't speak, but only chewed on the piece of gum that had been in her mouth. she could tell jinx was enjoying it, but she didn't judge. I mean... who doesn't like getting their hair shampooed?

time passed quickly as eventually jinx ended up back in the salon chair, the girl eventually wrapping up blowing out jinx's hair, leaving her hair straight and soft, the heat nice against jinx's neck.

jinx couldn't believe who she saw in the mirror. this is what she needed. what she wanted. when she saw herself in the mirror, she didn't think "jinx" or "powder". she just felt.. like herself.

the girl eyed her expression in the mirror, giving a soft grin, "ya like it?"

jinx stopped admiring herself for one moment as she met your gaze in the mirror, nodding vigorously, giving you a grin, "love it, toots."

she paused for a moment, "what's your name?"

the girl tilted her head, telling jinx her name, "recommend me to your friends, yeah?"

jinx repeated your name, letting your name roll off her tongue. she wasn't going to let you know that she has no friends, but she gave you a grin, "definitely."

jinx became a regular after that.

#jinx x reader #jinx #powder #wlw #wlw post #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane x female reader

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its-avalon-08 · 8 months ago

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Can I request something where Reader is with Lando and she actually more famo then him and he feels like she could do better then him. But reader reassures him that he is the best boyfriend she has ever had.

he's just ken (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - a little angst, tears, A LOT OF fluff

The soft glow of the city lights filled the room, casting a gentle glow over the sleek furniture and large windows overlooking Monaco’s glittering skyline. Lando Norris sat on the edge of the bed, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His girlfriend, Y/N, was getting ready in the adjoining bathroom, her melodic hums filling the space.

Y/N was more than just Lando’s girlfriend. She was a globally renowned actress, her face gracing billboards and magazines across the world. Her fame was astronomical, dwarfing even the recognition Lando received as a Formula 1 driver. And lately, this disparity had started to gnaw at him.

Lando sat in his hotel room, scrolling through his phone. He was used to seeing news articles and interviews featuring Y/N; she was one of the most famous actresses in the world. But today, as he absentmindedly browsed through his social media feed, a headline caught his attention: "Y/N Asked About Her Relationship with Lando Norris."

Curiosity piqued, he clicked on the video. It was an interview she had done recently, her radiant smile lighting up the screen. He watched as the interviewer, a man with a smug expression, leaned forward.

"So, Y/N," the interviewer began, his tone dripping with condescension, "you’re one of the biggest stars on the planet. You’ve got legions of fans, countless awards, and a career most people can only dream of. Why are you dating Lando Norris? I mean, he's just a race car driver. Don’t you think you could do better?"

Lando's heart sank. The interviewer’s words echoed in his mind, each one a stab at his already fragile confidence. He couldn’t bear to hear her response, too afraid that she might hesitate or, worse, agree. His thumb hovered over the screen, and with a heavy heart, he closed the video, the reporter’s sneer still haunting him.

He tossed his phone onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. The doubt that had been festering in the back of his mind surged forward. He loved Y/N more than anything, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t good enough for her. She was a superstar, adored by millions, and he was just Lando—a guy who drove fast cars and occasionally made it to the podium.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, the reporter's words playing on a loop in his mind. By the time Y/N returned to the hotel room, Lando was sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in his thoughts.

“Hey, babe!” Y/N called out as she walked in, her face lighting up when she saw him. “I’ve missed you.”

Lando tried to muster a smile, but it felt forced. “Hey.”

Y/N’s smile faded as she sensed his mood. She crossed the room and sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitated, not wanting to burden her with his insecurities. “Nothing, just a rough day.”

She frowned, concern etching her features. “Talk to me, Lando. What’s really going on?”

Lando took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. “Nothing baby, I love you."

She could sense the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were hunched slightly forward. "Baby tell me the truth." she asked softly, crossing the room to sit beside him.

Lando glanced at her, a forced smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing, just thinking.”

Y/N took his hand, her thumb gently rubbing circles on his skin. “Thinking about what?”

He hesitated, his eyes dropping to their intertwined hands. “About us,” he finally admitted. “About you and me.”

Her brow furrowed in concern. “What about us?”

Lando took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes I wonder if you could do better than me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why would you think that?”

Lando looked away, the weight of his insecurities pressing down on him. “You’re… you’re Y/N. Everyone knows you. You’re this incredible actress, and I’m just a guy who drives cars really fast. People adore you. They look up to you. And I feel like… like I’m not enough for you.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She gently cupped his face, turning him to look at her. “Lando, listen to me. You are more than enough. You’re kind, funny, and so incredibly talented. Do you know how proud I am to be with you? How much I love you?”

He swallowed hard, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “But people—”

“I don’t care what people think,” she interrupted, her voice firm but filled with love. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Fame, awards, none of that matters without you. You make me happy. You make me feel loved and cherished. I don’t need anyone else because I have you.”

Lando’s expression softened, the vulnerability in his eyes breaking her heart. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You are my person, Lando. My heart chose you, not anyone else. And I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything in the world.”

He took a shaky breath, her words slowly melting away his insecurities. “You really mean that?”

“With all my heart,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his. “I love you, Lando Norris. And nothing, no amount of fame or success, will ever change that.”

Lando’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he buried his face in her hair. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for always being there, for believing in me.”

Y/N smiled, her hand gently stroking his back. “Always, Lando. I’m here for you, always.”

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, Lando felt a sense of peace wash over him. In that moment, he realized that Y/N’s love was more valuable than any trophy or accolade. She was his anchor, his home. And with her by his side, he knew he could face anything the world threw at them.

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 year ago

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Can’t Help Falling In Love - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do.

A/N: Here’s a little blurb I did for @ohtobeleah’s Galentine’s Day challenge 🩷 This song is one that I sang/sing to my own baby, so I felt really inspired to just write some wholesome fluff with Bradley as a new dad singing it to his baby, and his wife 🩷

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader

warnings/content: sickly sweet fluff with Bradley as a new dad and being romantic.

word count: 1k

“Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”

You padded down the hallway to where the sound of your husband’s soft, melodic voice was echoing from. You entered your infant daughter’s room and smiled softly as you saw Bradley cradling baby Sawyer in his arms, humming softly to her as he kissed her head. You stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame as you looked on, Bradley none the wiser as you watched him comfort your baby.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Bradley shut his eyes delicately as he held Sawyer’s tiny body close to his chest, continuing to hum the notes of his favorite Elvis song in a soft, hushed tone as he rocked back and forth in an effort to lull his sweet girl to sleep. Bradley turned towards the door and opened his eyes to see you. His expression softened, melting into a sweet, content smile, his amber coloured eyes gazing at you from behind his thick, dark eyelashes that you’d always been envious of.

“Hi honey, sorry, Sawyer didn’t wanna go down, was just tryin’ to sing her to sleep. My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid, she always swore it worked. Guess my dad used to sing it too,” Bradley huffed a soft, melancholic sigh as he thought back to his own father and how he had so little to remember him by, having passed just a month after Bradley turned two.

“It was sweet, I love hearing you sing,” you murmured quietly as you cozied up to Bradley’s side, smiling softly while you pressed your lips against his cheek in a tender, loving kiss.

“I think Sawyer likes hearing me too, she settled right down while I was singing to her.”

“That’s because you’re soothing her. She loves you and loves the sound of your voice, feeling you hold her close, it makes her feel safe.”

“It does?”

“Mhmm, you bet it does.”

Bradley smiled proudly as he glanced over at you, still hugging Sawyer close to his bare chest. Stroking her back gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, gently kissing her as she snored softly. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, his toned, tan skin dotted with freckles. He never slept with a t-shirt on to begin with, but the minute he read that letting a newborn sleep on your bare chest was beneficial to the baby, he started to forgo wearing one at home at all. He dove all in, head first, the moment he found out you were pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his dad would be proud of, the kind of father his dad would have been if he’d had a chance to do it for more than two years.

Baby and parenting books had begun appearing throughout your home shortly after you’d told him, multiplying slowly, one by one as they began to collect on the shelf, magazines about raising children suddenly coming in the form of subscriptions to your door on a monthly basis. Bradley had begun coming home from a day of training, spouting off new ideas for names, suggesting whatever he heard or came across that day. He was as involved as anyone could hope for, his determination to be someone who made you proud, made his baby proud, and would have made his parents proud serving as a driving force to motivate him. On one occasion, you came home from spending a day out in the city to find every piece of nursery furniture perfectly assembled, waiting for your direction as to where you wanted it placed. As nervous as Bradley was about making you proud, there was never a single doubt in your mind about it - he was meant to be an excellent father, just like he was meant to be an excellent pilot. It was just who he was.

Bradley gently laid Sawyer down to sleep in her crib, smiling down at her as she stirred for a second, holding his breath as he hoped she stayed sleeping. As she continued to snore softly, he exhaled, relieved she was still sound asleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body in close to his as you both watched Sawyer in complete awe, almost unable to believe something so small and sweet could have come from either of you.

“Now, Mrs. Bradshaw, we’ve forgotten something important about today,” he whispered softly, stroking your hair as he tucked it behind your ear, his touch delicate and gentle.

“Hmm?”

“Valentine’s Day. We forgot it. I didn’t even remember to bring flowers home for you.”

“We did? Are you sure?”

“Positive. February 14th.”

You stifled a laugh as you shook your head, smiling at Bradley as he showed you today’s date on his phone screen. He kissed your forehead gently, his lips hovering for a moment as he hummed.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s no need. Sawyer’s a pretty great Valentine’s Day gift.”

“She’s two months old, hun, I don’t think you having our baby counts as your gift.”

“Sure she does. You just gave her to me a little early.”

“More like you gave her to me. I didn’t do much.”

You extended your hand out to stroke Bradley’s cheek fondly, beaming as your eyes met his.

“You gave me her. Without you, I wouldn’t have Sawyer. And I wouldn’t have a loving, wonderful husband either. And, I wouldn’t get to hear you sing all the time.”

“Oh, you like the singing?” Bradley smirked, playfully whispering as he led you out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind you.

“I do, in fact.”

“Well then, honey—“ Bradley began before taking a breath and beginning to sing once more.

“Wise men say, ‘only fools rush in’, but I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #leahsgalentinesdayspecial

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chapel-of-ritual · 9 months ago

Text

Credit: Britt Mae for Melodic Magazine

#the band ghost #ghost bc #impera #re imperatour na #nameless ghouls #ghoul #phantom #era v

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year ago

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Melodic Rivalry ~ KNJ

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, implied sexual interaction, surprise pregnancy, hiding pregnancy trope, angst, soft ending [Didn't include smut as it's an anon and I don't know your age, so it's implied that they have sex xx]

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜MASTERLIST

You stared down at the magazine with a disgusted look on your face, a photo of you and Namjoon on the cover with giant smiles on your faces as you sat together but the shot wasn't real. The two of you could never sit still long enough for a photo to be taken so the magazine had to photoshop the two of you together to fit the story that they had written and published.

All about how you and Namjoon were the perfect team, both of you had undeniable talent and worked well together in the studio. Namjoon was a musician with the knack of composing soul-stringing melodies, his talent knew no bounds and his music had the oer to move even the most stoic of souls. You were a producer with an unparalleled ear for sound, with the ability to transform raw talent into polished masterpieces and despite working well together in the music industry that was where everything stopped.

The two of you were like oil and water - constantly at odds with each other. Your egos clashed, your opinions collided, and your tempers flared at the slightest provocation. Working together was fraught with tension, each session devolving into a battle of wills and creative differences but each time the music came out brilliantly.

As you got to the studio door you pushed it open and found it dimly lit, the only light coming from a soft glow of a mixing console. Namjoon sat at his piano, his fingers dancing across the keys getting lost in whatever he was composing so you stood at the soundboard, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. He was supposed to be working on something more upbeat, not another love ballad he was no doubt writing.

"Oh, how touching. Another one of your generic love ballads, I presume?" You asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Namjoon shot your way, his jaw tight as he stared down at the keys.

"If you have something to say, Yn, say it. Otherwise, keep your critiques to yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

"Typical. Can't handle a little criticism, can you?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Criticism? All you do is tear down everything I create! You have no respect for my talent!"

"Respect? Please. You're the one who waltzes in here with your inflated ego and expects everyone to bow down to you."

The tension in the room was thick with unresolved animosity but you stared at one another, your eyes twitching.

"For someone who claims to hate my music so much, you spend a lot of time listening to it." You stared at him, shaking your head and scoffing a little. Of course, you listened to it, you had to because it was your job.

"That's because it's my job, you arrogant prick!" You cried out, your anger way past your boiling point now but Namjoon just stood up and took a step closer to you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, your breath caught in your throat, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

"Of course not." You whispered, your voice barely coming out. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of the studio.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. And then, in a rush of pent-up emotion, your lips met in a searing kiss—a collision of desire and frustration that sent shockwaves through you both.

For a moment, you were lost in each other, your bickering and resentment fading into the background as you surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had always lingered between you.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You stepped away from him, your fingertips gently touching your lips as you stared at him.

"We shouldn't have done that." Your voice trembled a little as you looked up at Namjoon, his eyes were blazing.

"Why not? We both know there's something between us." He stares down at you.

"This... this is madness. We can't stand each other." You whimpered, shaking your head at him, Namjoon stepped closer to you though, his voice dropping as he stared down at you,

"Maybe that's because we're so alike. Two stubborn souls fighting against the inevitable." You determined to hate him, to push him away from you crumbled, your walls tumbling down in the face of Namjoon's unwavering honesty.

"We can't even stand to look at one another." You mumbled at him, it was true. The two of you could barely go ten minutes without a fight breaking out. The kiss had been a one-off, the passion and sparks you'd felt were nothing more than a static shock or something.

"Stop fighting it, are you scared?" He smirked at you and you hated him for it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face,

"No," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart was thumping for him, the way your palms were sweating.

"Everyone knows we should be together, we should just embrace it," Namjoon smirked, your eyes meeting as you bit down on your lip. You had your reservations, the two of you bickered like an old married couple and you weren't sure it was healthy.

"Stop overthinking it," He whined before your lips met once more, the tentative kiss turning quickly into a fiery passion neither of you could deny. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as finally that pent-up tension and longer erupted into a raw and unbridled kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Namjoon rushed out, his voice husky as you worked on unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing,

"Me too." You breathed out, kissing him deeply as he carefully took you over to the sofa, both of your clothes being strewn around the room as the kiss between you heated up once again.

Ever since that night in the studio with Namjoon, you did everything within your power to avoid him, you started working from home, switching to another group to work with not being able to face him but today had been inevitable, you had to go into work because of a meeting with Hannah, your manager and also one of your best friends.

The two of you had shared one night of unbelievable passion but when you woke up the next morning he was gone, his clothes were gone and there was a note on his desk asking you to lock up when you were dressed. Since there you'd not even received a text asking how you were, or even a call and you hated him more for it.

I've wanted this for so long.

Had been such bullshit, something he was saying just so that he could get laid, anger bubbled inside of you until you snapped the pencil you were holding.

"You okay? You look unwell," Hannah said as she gently rubbed your back, you were feeling a little under the weather but you put it down to the fact that you were going to have to face Namjoon sometime soon.

"Just a little queasy, that's all." You said with a forced smile, trying to brush it off but Hannah narrowed her eyes at you and exchanged a look with John, one of your other work friends.

"You've been feeling off for a while now, maybe take some holiday days." He suggested with a furrowed brow. It wasn't like you to get sick which was a little concerning for all of them.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." You muttered weakly, slowly standing up from the desk as your stomach churned with anxiety and a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yn?" Hannah called out but you sat back down in the chair, your bin between your legs as you threw up the contents of your stomach again.

"Here, drink this," John said as he slid you over a glass of water, Hannah was running to her desk and rummaging through it all.

"Hans? What are you looking for?" You mumbled, wiping your mouth with a tissue and staring at her as she walked back over to you.

She was the only person other than you and Namjoon that knew what happened in that studio 6 weeks ago and John frowned at the blue box.

"Take it," She told you plainly, John sent her a puzzled look with confusion written across his face.

"I...I can't...It'll make it all real," You'd had your suspicions that it was true but you figured if you ignored it long enough and denied it then it couldn't be real.

"Take it, we'll be here for you, no matter what," Hannah told you as John nodded, helping you stand up as they all walked you toward the women's toilets.

Those three minutes you were supposed to wait for the test felt like three hours, each second ticking by tortuously slowly as you, John and Hannah stared around the small office waiting for it to tell you the truth.

"Time," John said as his watch began to beep, your hand linked with Hannah's and you stared down at the pink stick, tears brimming inside of your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." Your voice trembled and instantly you were engulfed in a hug from your two favourite people.

"Work from home until we figure something out," Hannah told you, running her hands over your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

It had been almost five months since discovering you were pregnant and you'd done everything you could to hide it from Namjoon. If he had done everything to get you to leave him alone after your night together then you weren't going to tell him about the kid but the weight of hiding it was crushing you.

You paced around your office, a mix of fear and uncertainty raging inside of you as you waited for John to hurry back with the next stack of assignments you needed to work through.

"Everything is there, I'm sorry I promise next time I'll bring them to you. I'm just swamped." John said as he gave you a bag, you nodded quickly kissing his cheek and making a dart out of the door. You needed to get out of the building before anyone could spot you and the news got back to Namjoon.

Lost in your thoughts as you walked through the halls, you nearly collided with someone as you rounded a corner. You slowly looked up and whimpered finding Jungkook standing there,

"Hey! Sorry! Are you alright?" He frowned staring at you,

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed nervously but you just shook your head at him,

"I'm fine, just a bit...distracted." You said with a forced smile but Jungkook's browns knotted together as he slowly looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly/

"Is everything okay? You look like you're about to pop.." He laughed softly and your heart raced, panic bubbling up inside of you as you struggled to come up with an explanation. Jungkook had seen you those seven months back coming out of Namjoon's studio with a freshly "fucked" look on your face.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just...tired, that's all." You said hesitantly, smiling weakly as he stared down at you.

"It's his...right?" He waited for you to say something but you didn't even want to admit it to yourself, admitting it to Namjoon's bandmember was going to be damn near impossible,

"Jungkook." You pleaded, shaking your head at him as if asking him to stop all of this.

"Yn, is it his?" You stared at him, your stomach churning with anxiety as you tried to think of something to say but your mind was racing at a million words a second.

"Please, Jungkook, you can't tell Namjoon. He can't know about the baby." Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at you. Everyone knew how badly Namjoon wanted to be a father and hiding something like this from him would no doubt kill him.

"Why didn't you tell him? He has a right to know." He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, he knew you were pregnant and in a delicate place right now but Namjoon deserved to know he was going to have a kid.

"He lost that right when he made it clear that night meant nothing to him like he claimed it did." You grumbled, pulling your coat over to cover your bump to make sure no one else was likely to see you.

"Yn," Jungkook said slowly but you held your hand up,

"Don't make excuses for him Jungkook. He fucking used me." Your voice trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything finally causing you to crack.

"You can't hide this from him forever. He has a right to know."

"Just let me figure things out first." You mumbled, begging him as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He stared at you as you nodded, slowly walking away from him as you felt an impending doom hanging over you, threatening to shatter everything you'd built to protect yourself.

After you left Jungkook stood outside of Namjoon's studio, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth he was about to reveal. As much as he wanted to keep your secret he didn't want to do that to his friend and he knew there was more to the story than Namjoon ignoring you after a night together.

"Joonie, we need to talk." He said as he walked into the studio, Namjoon frowned at him but nodded for the youngest member to sit down.

"What's up?" He asked him slowly as Jungkook's throat tightened, his head muddled trying to find the right way to say it.

"It's about Yn." Namjoon's hand on his pen tightened,

"What about her?" He asked, animosity laced in his voice as he thought about you.

"She wanted to come crawling back to us? I don't want her working with us anymore." He grumbled out, Jungkook eyed him up as he stared at him wondering what had gone so terribly wrong between the two of you.

"She's not welcome here anymore."

"Why?" There was going to be no more dancing around the topic and not mentioning your name as if you were Voldemort.

"She knows what she did wrong." He hissed making Jungkook frown. It seemed the two of you believed the other was in the wrong.

"What did she do, Hyung?"

"She slept with me when she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home." Jungkook knew you were single, you'd devoted every single second of your life to music.

"Boyfriend? Noona doesn't have a boyfriend."

"So who was John? He was texting her all night, asking where she was and when she was going to go back to him because he was waiting for her back home." None of that made sense,

"John is one of her co-workers, he works with TXT," Jungkook told him before realisation began to register with Namjoon who the man had been.

"So...W...What did you want to talk to me about?" Jungkook sighed a little.

"She's pregnant, Namjoon. Seven months along." Namjoon's world came to a crashing halt as he stared at him, his mind reeling in disbelief and confusion.

"How?" He asked shocked, Jungkook hesitated, his gaze filled with sympathy as he watched everything hit Namjoon.

"You know how." He said softly but Namjoon just stared at the floor. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks, everything falls into place. Your sudden avoidance, working from home and refusing to be their producer anymore. It was all making sense now.

"She's carrying my child," He whispered as Jungkook sighed a little.

"She asked me not to tell you but you needed to know," Namjoon nodded at him, barely acknowledging him as he slowly got up and made his way out of the studio.

Before he knew what was happening Namjoon was outside your place and knocking on the door. He knew it was going to be hard to talk to you about all of this since so much time had passed but it was time to face the truth.

"We have to talk." Namjoon said as soon as you opened the door to him, your chest aching with seeing him standing there. You knew Jungkook wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut so you'd been preparing for him.

"What about?" You stared at him as he took in a deep breath,

"About the baby," His eyes were filled with something you'd never seen from him before, he looked so vulnerable.

"What about the baby?" You asked, stepping to the side and letting him into your apartment.

"I want to be a part of their life, Yn. I want to be there for them, to watch them grow up, to be their father." Your breath caught in your throat at his words,

"Why? You practically kicked me out the night after we had sex so why all of a sudden do you care?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend! Okay? I saw a text from John and I thought-"

"That I was whoring myself out to everyone so you just decided to give me the cold shoulder?" You snapped angrily at him, you couldn't believe he would do something like this.

"You're the one hiding my child from me!" He grumbled at you and you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

"This is why we can't do it together. We fight all the time, we just scream at each other." You mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and feeling completely defeated.

"Yn."

"Can you look at me and tell me that when this baby comes it'll work out between us?" You didn't want to keep his kid from him but you also were scared of everything that was coming,

"No."

"So-"

"But I love you, okay? Fuck, I've loved you for so long and I just never show it right." You stared at him in complete shock.

"I love you and I love our baby. I may not have been ready to admit it before, but now...now I can't imagine life without you."

"But-" You barely had a chance to object before Namjoon continued.

"The last seven months without getting to see you have been torture. I miss the jabs you used to say, I miss seeing you...Please."

"We've both made mistakes, Yn. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make things right. For the sake of our child, and for the sake of our love." Tears built inside of your eyes as you struggled to process everything.

"I want to believe you, I do...but...But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of losing you again." You finally admit, your tears free falling as you finally let yourself admit you loved him back, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

"I won't let that happen, Yn, I promise you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too," You whispered to him, your heart racing as he smiled down at you.

"We can try." You told him as he hugged you close to him,

"Tell me everything I've missed? D-Do you have photos?" You nodded at him, slowly taking him through to your bedroom to get the album you'd already started making of your ultrasounds.

A soft glow filled the cosy living room as you and Namjoon sat together on the couch, your laughter mingling with the sound of your son's joyful giggles. It had been a year since that fateful night when Namjoon had shown up on your doorstep, and in that time, your lives had changed in ways you could have never imagined.

Your son toddled around the room with boundless energy, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as he chased after his favourite toy. Namjoon watched him with a smile, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his little boy.

"Look at him go, babe. He's getting so big." He said with a giant grin on his face, you smiled as you stared at him, your eyes shining with love as she reached out to ruffle his hair.

"He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's already a year old." You whined, you hated that it was going too quickly. You wanted him to stay young forever.

"I'm so grateful for you, Yn. For him. For everything." Namjoon said as he kissed your head softly. Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, your eyes shining with unshed tears as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

"And I'm grateful for you, Namjoon. For giving us a second chance, for never giving up on us." Your voice shook a little and he kissed you softly.

In that moment, as you sat together in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that they had found something truly special—a love that had weathered the storms of doubt and uncertainty, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before.

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