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pretty-circa006 · 2 months

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Mystery Man

Sugar Daddy! Coach! Negan x Cam girl! F! Reader

summary you finally find out who your mystery man is tags online relationship, meeting up with a stranger you met online, making out, almost sex, dirty talk, male masturbation, age gap

wc 3.7k words

part 1

note here's part 2! also thank you so much to all the people that follow me. it makes me really happy to know that that many people like reading what i write! and extra thank yous to the people that leave comments and repost. comments make me so happy, like kicking my feet and giggling happy!

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

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Ever since her video call a few weeks ago with the man online, they’ve been messaging each other quite frequently. It’s mostly flirtation and nudes, but it has quickly become her favorite part of the day. He even gave her his number so they can communicate outside of the camgirl website, but despite all this, they still haven’t seen each other’s faces.

“Who’re you texting?” her friend asks as she tries to get a peek of her phone.

“Nobody,” she snaps, turning her phone away from the other girl’s view.

“C’mooon, lemme see!” she pushes trying to grab her phone.

“Britney, stop it!” she urges and she hold her phone away from her nosey friend. Britney glares at her disappointedly, but stops trying to grab her phone.

“Sorry, it’s just that I wanna keep this relationship kinda private until I know where it’s going, y’know?” she tells her friend half truthfully.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go out before Coach Negan starts yelling at us again.” Britney leaves and she can finally resume her texting without any prying eyes. She reopens her messages and sees a picture from the man. He’s shirtless, revealing to her the tattoos on his chest, and palming his erection through his boxers, but of course his face isn’t in it. The text that followed reads Just watched some of your videos. She smiles to herself before typing back maybe one day you’ll get the real thing ;). Before she can get carried away, she shuts off her phone and puts it in her bag before joining the rest of the team out on the field.

Coach Negan shouts her last name angrily and beckons her over with his hand. She rolls her eyes, feeling irate, and trudges over to him. He stands impatiently with his arms folded over his chest, his hazel eyes glaring down at her.

“What?” she snaps, coming off a bit ruder than she intended.

His glare hardens, but he doesn’t say anything about her attitude. “I just thought I’d let you know that this is the third time this week that you’ve been late to practice,” he states the obvious.

“Okay? I know. Sorry, but things came up. What’s your problem?” she half truths. The things that kept coming up were more messages from her mystery man and she tended to lose track of time when it came to him.

“It’s actually gonna become your fuckin’ problem because if you keep showing up late, you’re gonna put your track scholarship in jeopardy.”

“Why is that any of your business‽” she asks defensively.

“Despite you being my worst student, you are the best on this team, so it does benefit me to keep your rude ass around.”

She glares up at him, matching the glare he’s already sending her. Shame washes over her, not only from slacking but from having Coach Negan of all people call her out on it. Her scholarship isn’t something she can afford to lose, literally. Even though it only covers half of her tuition, it still helps a lot.

“Well if keeping me around benefits you, maybe you should stop being such a dick to me.”

He laughs sarcastically, exposing the dimples on his face along with his perfect teeth, before his face returns to a deadpan.

“Or you can just get your shit together. Now go warm up with the others before you piss me off any further.”

“Ugh!” she screams before leaving to join the others.

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As soon as she gets to her apartment, she tosses her bag aside and flops down onto her couch. She pulls out her phone and checks her messages with the mystery man to see if she has any new ones. When she sees that she doesn’t, she opens the camgirl website to see if maybe he said anything there. Disappointment swells in her chest when she sees that there’s none there, either. She almost feels dumb for being so hung up on this stranger. The stranger she’s never met in real life and doesn’t know what he looks like. But talking to him makes her feel good, like someone actually cares about her. Even if their conversations were purely flirtatious and sexual, she can’t help but feel something for him. So she sends him a message.

@ virginesque hey

@ BigBadWolf Miss me already?

@ virginesque yes actually how was ur day?

@ BigBadWolf It was alright. How about yours baby?

@ virginesque kinda shitty tbh. school sucks but talking to u makes my day better :)

@ BigBadWolf You must really want another tip, huh lol

@ BigBadWolf sent $100.00

@ virginesque no, i rlly just wanted to talk to u :(

@ BigBadWolf Well aren’t you just the cutest. What do you wanna talk about baby?

@ virginesque idk i kinda been wanting to get to know u better. u seem interesting

@ BigBadWolf Well what do you want to know?

@ virginesque what do you look like???

@ BigBadWolf I don’t even know what you look like haha

@ virginesque fair. how old are u??

@ BigBadWolf 45, you?

@ virginesque 20 but i’ll be 21 soon

Their conversation strayed away from the usual exchanging of risqué photos and flirtatious banter and instead they got to know each other by taking turns asking questions about one another. It’s almost two in the morning on a week day and their conversation is still going.

@ BigBadWolf Do you accept gifts? I want to send you a gift

@ virginesque ooooh what is it???

@ BigBadWolf You’ll have to be patient and wait until you get it

@ virginesque fine :( u can send them to my PO box

@ BigBadWolf When you get it, I wanna see it in your next stream

@ virginesque oh? no private video just for ur eyes?

@ BigBadWolf You can send me a few pictures ;)

@ virginesque cant wait :D

@ BigBadWolf Goodnight babygirl, it was nice chatting with you

@ virginesque night! ♡♡

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Almost every day since the mystery man said he’s gonna send her a gift, she’s been checking her P.O. box on the way home from school. She��s gotten mail from her subscribers before, but it was usually weird stuff like disgusting fantasies about her, cumsocks, and other depraved things. But she knows her mystery man is nothing like those weirdos, which is why when there’s finally something in her P.O. box, she’s excited.

As soon as she gets to her apartment she tears open the box and inside is a package from an expensive lingerie company. She tears open the package and inside is a quarter cup bra in a sheer white color with little flowers embroidered on it and a matching g-string. She hurries to the bathroom and changes into it. The bra doesn’t cover anything and even if it did, you could see right through it. What surprises her most is how perfectly each garment fits. She puts on some natural looking makeup before standing before the full length mirror in her bedroom. With her phone, she snaps a few pictures, each one a different pose.

@ virginesque sent 6 attachments

@ virginesque u like?

@ BigBadWolf Wow, it fits you perfectly. You look so fuckin sexy

@ virginesque thanks, i love it ♡

@ virginesque im gonna go start my stream now, maybe we can call after ??

@ BigBadWolf Can’t wait :)

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“You looked so sexy on that stream, doll,” her mystery man compliments. This video call is a lot like their first one. Neither one of them showing their faces with only their bodies in the camera’s frame.

“Don’t I always?”

“Of course you fuckin’ do. Every picture you send me tightens my pants.”

She giggles, smiling like a fool, but luckily he can’t see that.

“I wish I could be there to help you out. I’d let you fill any hole you wanted.”

He frees his cock from his sweatpants and from what she can see he doesn’t have any underwear on.

“What else would you let me do?” he asks, his hardened dick in his large hand.

“Hmmm, I’d be wearing a cute little dress with nothing underneath…”

“I’d never be able to keep my hands off you.” His hand begins pumping his achingly hard cock.

“And I wouldn’t want you to. I’d let you take me whenever and wherever you want. Over my kitchen counter, the backseat of a car, the back of a movie theater, anywhere.”

He lets out a grunt as he urges himself to his peak. “I’d love to fuck you on my motorcycle.”

“You have a motorcycle? You just got even hotter.”

“Sure do. I’d be happy to take you for a ride sometime.” He curses as he increases the speed of his hand, successfully making himself cum.

“I…I know it’s all just dirty talk and fantasies, but would you really wanna take me for a ride?” she shyly asks.

He pauses for a second, but the anxiety she feels during that pause makes it feel like an eternity.

“I…I mean, yeah of course, baby, I’d love to,” he stammers.

“M-maybe if we do…we can make all these fantasies reality,” she seductively suggests.

“You are getting me hard all over again just thinking about it. I know you live in Virginia since that’s where your P.O. box is and lucky for you, I do, too.”

“I’ll text you my favorite restaurant and we can meet there!”

“How’s this weekend sound?”

“I’ll be there in my little dress with nothing underneath.”

“And I’ll be there ready to take it off.”

“Five o’clock?”

They agree on the time before wishing each other a good night and ending the call.

Saturday felt like it took forever to get here, but when it finally did she started to feel nervous. She stands in front of her closet and looks at the few dresses she has. Deciding on a lavender colored mini sundress, she upholds her promise to her mystery man and wears nothing underneath. She even paints her nails and does her hair and makeup nicely. The reality of the situation dawns on her. She’s really about to meet up with a random man she met online, but for some reason, she trusts him. He’s nothing like the weirdo fans that have sent her weird shit or left creepy, almost threatening comments on her posts and streams. He’s charming, generous, and has a huge dick. What more could she ask for?

It’s a quarter til five once she gets to the restaurant since she likes to be early. She grabs a table by the window and sends him a message telling him that she’s here and sitting by a window. Someone calling her name causes her to flinch and look up from her phone.

“Coach Negan? What’re you doing here?” she asks rudely.

“It’s a goddamn restaurant. I’m obviously here to eat.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Okay, whatever, bye.” she shoos him away with her hand and pulls out her phone to text the mystery man and ask where he is. He texts back that he’s here and asks where she is. She replies by telling him what she’s wearing. Coach Negan comes back over to her table, but this time he looks shocked and pale. He sits at the table, across from her and looks her in the eyes.

“You…you’re not virginesque…are you?” he asks dryly.

As she looks into Negan’s hazel eyes, it feels like her entire world came crashing down around her. Her stomach turns into knots and she’s not hungry anymore.

“Y-you’re big bad wolf!?” she says shakily. Tears prick at her eyes due to the realization that the mystery man she’s been crushing on is her mean track and field coach.

He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Holy fuckin’ shit.” He holds his head in his hands and refuses to look at her. She can’t look at him, nor can she hold back her tears. At the sound of her sniffling, Negan looks up at her.

“I can’t believe my coach has seen me naked,” she sobs.

“This isn’t easy for me either. My student has seen my penis!”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you!” she asks incredulously.

“I didn’t know you were you!” he argues.

“Oh my god, I’ve masturbated in front of you…to you! I…I’ve sent you nudes a-and videos,” she cries into her hands.

“I’ve sent you dick pics and thousands of fucking dollars!” he bemoans.

Through their bickering, neither of them notice the waiter approach. “Hi, my name is Tyler and I’ll be your server for tonight,” he places menus, napkins and silverware on their table, “Can I get y’all started with anything to drink?”

“Not now, Tyler!” she shouts between sobs. He looks at her, offended, before walking off.

The atmosphere is incredibly and awkwardly tense. Now, Negan has not only seen her naked, but he’s also seen her cry. That man she met on her live stream was nothing like Coach Negan and to see that they’re the same person almost makes her nauseous. Coach Negan is a mean, foul mouthed dick who makes her contemplate dropping out of track and field every time she goes to practice. Her mystery man is caring, charismatic, a gentleman even.

“Look,” he says, grabbing her attention, “I know this is weird as shit for you because it’s weird for me, too. But the attraction we felt to each other was fuckin’ real.” The more she hears him speak, the stupider she feels for not realizing how similarly he and the mystery man spoke.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “and I appreciate all the money you’ve sent.”

He sighs as if he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say, but says it anyway. “And I do enjoy our late night chats and video calls.”

“Me too. Talking with you was my favorite part of the day,” she admits, trying not to cry again.

“I don’t want this to end just because we already knew each other,” he confesses.

She looks away from him and down at the table, nervously biting her lip. “But you hate me and I’m not the hugest fan of you either. How could we possibly not end this?”

“I do not hate you. You only know me when I’m your coach. Outside of that, I promise you I am the man you’ve been talking to.”

She mulls over his words for a moment before taking a chance and letting her worries go. “Good, because I really like him.”

Negan waves the waiter over and they order their food. The atmosphere is less awkward when the food comes and she’s starting to feel comfortable with him being Negan. They finish eating and he covers the bill.

“Y’know I wasn’t kidding about takin’ you out on my motorcycle,” he tells her with a smirk on his face as they walk out the restaurant. She follows beside him as he takes her to his motorcycle.

“Wow, it’s nice,” she comments unsurely.

“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me to take you for a ride?”

“I do, it’s just that I also wasn’t kidding about wearing a little dress with nothing underneath…”

He stops in his tracks and turns to look at her. His hazel eyes scan her body and a smirk spreads across his face, bringing attention to his dimples.

“You are way sexier in person,” he compliments, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He takes off his leather jacket and ties it around her waist.

“We won’t go too far, so that should hold you over.” He puts a helmet on her head before putting one on himself. She gets on the bike behind him and he grabs her arms and wraps them around his waist.

“Hold on tight, baby.”

He takes off, causing her to hold him even tighter. She watches the scenery pass by as he drives by the coast. The full moon shines beautifully over the ocean as the waves crash along the sandy shore and it soothes her. He stops at an overlook that has an even better view of the beach and climbs off the bike and takes off his helmet before helping her off. She unties his jacket from around her waist and hands it to him, but instead of putting it on, he drapes it over her shoulders, which she's grateful for considering the cool weather.

"Wow, you really are different when you're not coaching," she teases. He lets out a laugh and wraps his arm around her shoulders and guides her to overpass' railing so they can get a better look at the view. She watches the waves and Negan stands behind her, watching the scenery too. He hugs her around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest. It's an oddly intimate position for people who just met, but when she's not thinking of him as Coach Negan, it feels right.

"Any other fantasies you wanted to live out tonight?" he whispers in her ear. The feeling of his facial hair and soft lips brushing against the shell of her ear sends tingles down her spine. With his teeth, he gently nips at her ear before pulling away. She turns around to face him and smiles seductively.

“If I remember correctly,” she bites her lip and slides her hands up his chest before holding onto his broad shoulders, “you said you wanted to fuck me on your motorcycle.” His tongue seductively swipes across his bottom lip before a smirk grows across his face. His big hands slide down her body before cupping her ass.

“Oh, baby, I was hopin’ you’d say that.”

“Really? Even after you found out I’m the girl you were talking to?”

“Doll, even before I found your cam girl account, I always thought you were undeniably sexy.”

Warmth spreads across her face at his admission, even though it contradicts the way he treated her during games and practices.

"Yeah? Well, I can't say I'm disappointed to find out someone as good looking as you is my mystery man," she flirts back.

He grabs her by the back of her head and pulls her in for a kiss. Having been caught off guard, she gasps, but wraps her arms around his neck and deepens the kiss. His tongue forces its way through her soft lips and she welcomes the intrusion. He picks her up by the backs of her thighs and she reflexively wraps her legs around his waist. She can feel his hard-on through his jeans against her bare pussy, causing her to moan into his mouth. The need to breathe forces her to pull away from him.

“Negan,” she pants, “I want you to touch me, please!”

“Patience, baby,” he urges. She pouts and grips his shoulders tightly as she grinds against his clothed erection. Negan lets out a repressed grunt, suddenly regretting asking her to be patient. He carries her back over to his motorcycle and sets her down. He pulls his jacket off of her and hangs it on the handlebars.

“You look so goddamn delicious in that little dress,” he states as he ogles her.

“Wore it just for you.”

“I can’t wait to unwrap my present.” A cheeky, dimpled smile lights up across his face as he unzips the back of her dress and peels it off of her body, revealing her naked body to him. Eagerly, she undoes his belt, then his jeans, then pulls his hard cock from his boxers.

“Wow, it looks bigger than it did on video call.”

“Just wait til you feel it filling that pretty little pussy.” He sits on the seat of the bike and pats his lap.

“Wanna ride me on my motorcycle,” he jokes. Her eyes drop to his cock before smiling up at him and eagerly nodding.

“Go grab a condom out of my jacket pocket.” She does as he says and hands the condom to him to which he rolls it on. Excitement had filled her mind up until this very moment because now nervousness is taking over. He helps her climb onto his lap and positions her over his dick. He teases her slick folds with his tip, causing her to tighten her grip on his shoulders. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest once she feels him line his tip up with her entrance.

“You okay?” he asks, his hazel eyes filled with concern. The tense look on her face didn't go unnoticed by him.

“Y-yeah.”

“Baby, we don’t have to do this.”

“No! No, I want to. It…It’s just that this is my first time.”

He pauses and rubs a hand over his face. She can’t read his expression as he stares into her eyes.

“You’re a fuckin’ virgin?”

“Uh, yeah? It’s kinda in my username on the cam girl site.”

“Yeah, but it’s virginesque, which kinda implies that you’re not really a virgin,” he explains.

“I know, that’s the point.”

“I don’t get it…”

“Well, I’ve never had sex before, but with all the toys I’ve used and stuff I’ve done as a cam girl, I don’t really feel like a virgin."

“Oh my fuckin god,” he sighs as he urges her to get up. She grabs her dress from off the ground and puts it back on as Negan fixes his pants. Her heart’s still racing, but this time, instead of awaiting Negan’s dick, she’s waiting for his next words.

“I-is that a problem‽”

“Kinda, yeah. I can’t fuck a virgin on my bike at an overpass in the middle of the fuckin night. Isn’t your first time supposed to be special and with someone you love or some shit like that?”

“Well what if this is how I wanna have my first time?”

“There’s better ways!” He argues.

“Like what?”

The look in his eyes is dark as a smirk spreads across his face. He steps closer to her, his tongue salaciously gliding across his bottom lip. He leans down to whisper in her ear, his lips gently brushing against the shell.

“What if I fucked you on your livestream. Showed all those pathetic excuses of men you have for viewers that their tiny little cocks could never please you the way I can. Show them that I’m the first man to ever fuck you.”

Her face blooms with heat and her stomach flutters at his words. She was afraid he was going to completely turn her away, but instead he embraced it.

part 3 ➢

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #negan smith #fanfic #jdm #negan #negan smith x reader #twd fanfiction #twd negan #negan x reader smut #coach negan

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narizaki · 3 months

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bad habits suna rintaro x reader

― tags gender neutral reader, fluff, childhood friends to lovers

― notes wc is around 1.2k, maybe ooc suna, thank you for 100 followers, here's my gift to you <3

rintaro has many bad habits.

he’s well aware of them — so much so that he has a mental list of them. number 5 on the list is how he gets lazy during volleyball matches whenever he knows his team is in the lead. number 4 is how he never bothers to even attempt to mediate fights. though, he figures that one hardly counts as a bad habit, seeing as it’s the result of spending years around the miya twins. they would rather die than let anyone but kita or their mother get in between of their debacles.

“tell me a secret, rin,” you hum into the phone.

you and rintaro have ingrained late-night phone calls into your routines after graduating high school and separating your own ways. with him working as a professional volleyball player, you hardly see each other anymore. he's always too busy with traveling and training, despite the fact you still live in the same city. although he knows you’d never tell him, he’s aware that you were upset when he began to have less and less time to talk to you. after all, he hadn’t spent the majority of his life with you to not know what makes you tick.

so, even though he’s stumbling over his own feet walking home, he’s still on the phone with you. he vaguely understands what you say before spouting out the first thing he thinks of — another bad habit of his.

number 3: he loses his filter when he’s tired.

rintaro never had much of a filter to begin with, but his reserved nature essentially acted as one. he was certainly less blunt than people like kita and atsumu. as the years passed, though, it was made apparent to him that he became more curt with his words when in dire need of rest. he surmises that it’s something that happens to everybody, though, so he forgives himself for it.

“you know, i used to like you when we were kids,” he mumbles. “actually, it lasted until high school.”

you sputter on the other end, choking on your water. rintaro laughs at your incessant coughing.

“that was not funny! and, what? suna rintaro, are you drunk right now?” you yell into the receiver. the volume of your voice makes him wince, forcing him to tug his phone away from his ear. regardless, he laughs a little harder.

“full name? what happened to rin?” he almost whines, kicking a rock. you grumble on the other line. “and i’m not drunk.”

“rin,” you sigh, and he smiles at the nickname. “i know you like to fuck around with people, or whatever, but this isn’t something to joke about.” your tone is serious, almost scolding. rintaro only frowns. he’s not lying. he wouldn’t lie about something like this. he couldn’t, especially to you.

“i’m not joking, i swear. i did like you… or, still do?” he thinks aloud, questioning himself. rintaro is barely registering what he’s saying — mind fuzzy from the harsh day. his coach was particularly unforgiving today, leaving him sore and tired as he drags his feet back to his apartment. still, he continues. “yeah, still do, actually.”

“rin,” you say, exasperated, “you like me? as a friend, you mean?”

even in his slightly delirious state, rintaro can tell you’re trying to save face — for you or for him, he’s unsure. what he does know is that you’d never thought he’d see you in a romantic light. it was his fault, really — you’d always been a hopeless romantic, but rintaro knew you’d considered him off-limits. aside from your long-term friendship, there was also his disinterested approach to dating.

if only you knew how wrong you were.

he was never uninterested in dating — he just always had his eyes on you. that was where another bad habit of his shone through — number 2: he never tells anyone, anything. that, mixed with his hard-to-read demeanor, meant that nobody truly knew how he felt about you. of course, those around him could tell that you were close. everybody knew that you and rintaro had grown up together, so it was only a matter of time until people started assuming that the two of you had something more. while rintaro never gave those people the time of day, you’d always nervously deny their pries.

atsumu and osamu would always tease him (and sometimes, you) about it, but they quickly learned to give up once they saw his feigned indifference toward the subject and your immediate rejection to their statements. his default response was to brush them off — he’d rather die than give the twins out of all people anything to use against him, especially if it was about you. he’d never see the light of day again if miya atsumu was found teasing rintaro about something.

“rin? hello?” your voice echoes throughout his head, forcing rintaro into reality.

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles. he’s considering taking his word back — telling you that yeah, he does mean it as a friend. but he decides that he’s already too deep in and fuck it, he’s going to tell you.

“i do like you…more than a friend. i have for a while, and i know it’s my fault that you had no idea, but i guess i’m telling you now?” rintaro grimaces at the uncertainty in his own voice. he’d always been so sure of himself — or, at least put effort into appearing as such. you’ve always been the exception to that, though, and he supposes that’s a fact that’ll never change.

a beat of silence passes until you reply.

“yeah. it is your fault.” you breathe.

suddenly, all the air is gone from rintaro’s lungs. it forces him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, shoes skidding against the concrete. his grip on his phone tightens, and he’s considering mumbling out some half-assed excuse about how he is, in fact, drunk. he’ll pray that you believe him, so he can run back to his apartment and maybe actually get drunk before pretending that everything is okay.

thousands of thoughts run through his head. some of them are about how he’s going to play this off, while others are about where you stand with him now. is this what being a setter feels like? having to go through hundreds of different situations to decide what will bring the best outcome? how shitty. he vaguely feels sympathy for atsumu.

that is, until your laugh fills the air around him.

“but you’ve told me now, so i think you should turn around.”

he spins on his heel, coming face-to-face with you. your appearance is disheveled, looking as if you just ran to him — which, you did, based on the harsh breaths you’re taking — and you only have a thin t-shirt and sweatpants on. your phone is still by your ear, grinning at him. it’s childish and hopeful, reminding rintaro of the smiles you would send his way when the two of you would play on the swings during recess. he adored them just as much then as he does now.

rintaro has many bad habits. he’s aware of them, and despite what others may say, he’s come to terms with them.

but as he rushes forward and cups your face into his hands, he knows what he’d say if someone were to ask him what his worst habit was.

number 1: he can never say no to you.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou fluff

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maryland-no-rabies · 23 days

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#ask for more detail about a point if needed #or wanted #im summarizing here #and other questions #have fun tumblring!!

384 notes · View notes

grandlinedreams · 5 months

Text

|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification

|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching

“Where are we going?”

Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.

“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.”

She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.)

Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.

“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”

“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”

Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ”

“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.”

Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels.

Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.

He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow.

There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands.

Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”

She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.

“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.”

To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner.

“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.”

Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”

The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”

“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”

Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route.

“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”

“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.”

You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to.

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.”

It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him.

The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something.

That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.

“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?”

You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.”

It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body.

When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”

You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”.

“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?”

This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.

He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts.

Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.

“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.”

You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that.

Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.

Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too.

“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.”

Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now.

“Take me with you.”

That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”

“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”

Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time.

“That's not an answer, Cooper.”

He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”

“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.”

He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.”

Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.”

Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.

Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.

Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander.

Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg.

“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.”

His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him.

The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest.

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest.

“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?”

Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face.

“Well? Got what you need?"

Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.

And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”

#ㅡmine.#fallout series #fallout x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader

518 notes · View notes

wondernus · 4 months

Text

— WHY HIM?

SYNOPSIS: armed and ready at 4am, you approach your locked front door to confront the group of loud strangers trying to break into your apartment

PAIRING: fiancé!lsm x reader

GENRE: fluff, humor

TAGS: food mention, inebriated characters, post-bachelor party, brother!hvc

WC: 1.75k

MESSAGE FROM NU: hii long time no see :3 posting a dk oneshot to let you know i'm procrastinating on my final paper draft by drafting a hefty dk soulmate au i've been thinking about writing for a while. also dedicating this fic to @wongyuseokie the la to my ma

A perfectly peaceful Friday night goes to waste when you shoot up from your bed in a panicked state. It’s not the usual cat wanting to leave your room at five in the morning kind of scratching sound that lures you to open your bedroom door in a half-awake state. Instead, shuffling sounds out front and an insistent metal-to-metal sound, which you can only infer as someone trying to break into your apartment, cause you to become extremely vigilant.

Seokmin isn’t picking up his phone, but you keep his line ringing just in case he does. Doubtful that a pair of scissors can do as much damage to the head as a giant wok can, you head into the kitchen to pick up that giant carbon steel wok that you can never seem to fit into any of your kitchen drawers as a form of physical backup before you quietly approach your front door.

However, the fear that once overwhelms your body soon turns into a sigh of exasperation before you can even position yourself to look through the tiny peephole. You can clearly hear the familiar voices on the other side of the door and match each voice to its respective owner. Feeling relieved, you drop the wok on the cubby by the door and hang up the phone.

“Look, I opened it,” the man who was trying to open your door slurs with a dopey smile on his face. He doesn’t seem like he’s talking to anybody in particular. “I’m a fucking genius.”

Almost immediately after that statement, he falls forward and faceplants a couple centimeters away from your indoor slippers. Slumped to the side of his face is his hand that holds a small metal keychain between the thumb and index fingers. It’s a souvenir nameplate keychain from a family trip to another country a few years back whose design reads “Vernon” in all caps. You realize that the man near your feet didn’t even try opening the door with the key.

The actual owner of the set of keys lies on his left side while his entire body is propped against the bushes in front of your place. His legs are still surprisingly in a crisscross position, but you think it’s because his jeans restrict him from being able to unravel from the position. And when you see earbuds plugged up your brother’s nose while his mouth acts as some sort of impromptu speaker for whatever song he has playing through his earbuds, you consider the option of leaving him outside for the rest of the night. What’s even worse is that Joshua, although a little out of it, sits next to his younger friend and bobs his head to the music while lethargically reaching into his brown paper bag on his lap to grab some greasy fries. You think your brother is asleep, but you don’t know if him becoming a speaker happened pre-knocking out or post-knocking out.

“Do I want to ask why you guys are trying to break into my place at 4 a.m. in the morning or should I be concerned that only half of you guys are here?”

“Actually.” the man underneath you groans while he slowly gathers enough strength to sit upright. There is a nasty red mark on the side of his face that he doesn’t seem to know of and mind. “Saying ‘4 a.m. in the morning’ is redundant.” He points at nobody in particular with the same hand holding your brother’s set of keys and stares past your calves.

“Since you’re sober enough to be smart with me, I need your help dragging Vern and Shua into my place before the neighbors wake up and call neighborhood watch,” you gruff before stepping out of your house slippers into the sandals you keep near the door.

It turns out that there are more people scattered about the front of your place.

There is a car parallel parked against the sidewalk with what looks like two people in the car. Someone picks themself off the small grassy lawn on the other side of the bushes and trudges towards the car while pinching their temple.

Wonwoo nods at you when he passes by looking completely sober. Yet, for somebody who usually looks well-put-together, his hair is a mess while the top few buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned…no, missing. What remains are the threads that once attached the buttons to the dress shirt. You notice that he grips three different neckties in his hand but still his loose around his neck. Nevertheless, Wonwoo kicks off his dress shoes, steps over Jeonghan, enters your front door without saying a word, and knocks out on your sofa before his legs can make it onto the cushions.

You turn back to your brother. Joshua wipes his fingers on his pants before he squats on the other side of Vernon to help him up.

“Up,” you tell the both of them.

“I can’t breathe,” Vernon whines while allowing the both of you to help him stand. “My nose isn’t working.”

You sigh and yank the wired earbuds by their cords and out of his nostrils and let them drop before the older man helps his friend into your place. Bending down to grab the bag of fries that Joshua forgot, you see a disturbing amount of hair poking through the crevices of the leafy bush. Someone was dumb enough to black out in the bushes and you can’t tell who it is even after peering over the bush to look at the other half of the body.

“Jeonghan,” you hiss at the man who is trying to discreetly walk back to the car.

He looks back at you and mouths “what” while shrugging his shoulders.

You point at the head in the bush.

“It's Jihoon,” he snorts. He takes the paper bag from your hand and walks back to drop it in the wok that you put to the side before walking back to you. “I think he was supposed to give Vernon his keys but tripped and never got back up. Come to the car with me.”

“Why are you guys here?” you whispered. “I thought that you guys had the entire night planned out.”

“We had the entire night planned out. But then DK started crying and we had to end it early because he wouldn’t stop crying. And then all of us sobered up to try to help him but then it just worsened, so we drove here to get you to get him to stop crying. Some of us couldn’t deal with not being able to solve his problem and just started drinking again.”

“Is that why Jihoon is in the bushes?”

“Well, he never was the patient type,” he hums.

A quick look into the car immediately gets you to understand why someone like Jihoon would end up so drunk that he would dive headfirst into some bushes.

There are dozens of used tissues balled up and overflowing in the tiny hanging trashcan attached to the back of the passenger seat in Wonwoo’s car. There are a few in the laps of the two men sobbing next to each other in the backseats, and you make a mental note to help Wonwoo sanitize the inside of his car before he drives away in the afternoon. Seungcheol releases Seokmin’s seatbelt and looks at you with an apologetic smile on his face.

In all of the years you’ve come to know Seokmin, you have never seen his eyes this puffy.

“Sorry for showing up at your place unannounced. That must have scared you. There was a lot going on,” Seungcheol murmurs to you while giving you a quick hug. “We were making toasts to his future during the party until Vernon made a comment.”

“What did he say?” you asked him, shocked that your brother could even make a comment that would bring your fiancé to such a state.

“It wasn’t bad.” Seungcheol stepped aside from the open car door to let you squat next to your lover. “He just congratulated you on getting married but this dumbass took it the wrong way because he didn't mention Donkey Kong over here in the sentence and thinks you’re getting married to someone else.”

“Someone else!” Seokmin chokes out in a sob while slumped over on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Why him? Why not me?”

You grab a tissue from the tissue box on the center console and dab at your future husband’s face. The traces of his tears wet the thin paper, and you can feel the heat of his skin through the tissue. With the same hand, you push the bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyelids to the side. You don’t mind that he doesn’t seem to know that you’re there taking care of him.

“Aww baby,” you coo. “I’ll get married to you, don’t worry.”

The familiarity of your comfort seems to lure your fiancé to sleep. A little further from you, Soonyoung continues to sniffle while his eyes are closed. You turn to Seungcheol and Jeonghan with your mouth open and eyebrows scrunched together.

“He’s a drunk crier…” Jeonghan’s words doesn’t leave you guessing anything. “And also Minghao opened his mouth during the bachelor party.” He scratches the back of his head as a sign of stress and embarrassment before looking at Seungcheol and cocking his head at the two knocked out in the car.

Jeonghan has the easier job of coaxing Soonyoung awake to walk him into your place. Seungcheol, on the other hand, takes it upon himself to swing the entire weight of your limp boyfriend like a large sack of rice over his shoulder.

“Do you need me to help with anything?” you ask him.

You don’t know what time it is anymore. The sky is getting brighter, and the temperature is warming up. Your partner looks finally peaceful in his sleep.

“Nah.” Seungcheol softly brushes your request aside. “We’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”

“I feel like I should be the one apologizing,” you joke while trailing behind Seungcheol just in case he needed any help readjusting the body.

“You don’t have to apologize for him.” His words are sincere. “He loves you, you know. He cried his heart out just because he loves you. There’s nothing to apologize for. To be loved is to be cared for. Go back to bed, we’ll probably wake up around dinner time.”

“Do you think anybody grabbed Jihoon?”

#seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seokmin imagines #seokmin fluff #svthub #seokmin x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #dk imagines #dk fluff #dk x reader #wondernus imagines

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kquil · 6 months

Text

REGULUS BLACK | HOLD HER! PART 0.5

SUM. : you have a bizarre encounter with regulus because james couldn’t help himself —but his heart was in the right place at least (a prequel to part 1)

TAGS. : fluff ; grumpy regulus ; sunshine reader ; grumpy x sunshine trope ; you don’t have to read the first part to read this ; James being a defensive, protective older brother type ; James doesn’t condone slander ; inspired by a scene in demon slayer ; we love James ; but he can be a little much sometimes… ; but he’s perfect~ ; my James simp is showing ; excuse me~

LENGTH : 0.7k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

PART 1

“Regulus!” You call, waving enthusiastically towards the aloof Slytherin. It was break time between morning and afternoon classes and most people were on their way to the dining hall for food, except Regulus and his few friends who were going the opposite direction.

Beside you, the marauders give you an incredulous look. They understood how bubbly and bright you were, able to befriend anyone you came across, however, when it came to Sirius’ younger brother, hardly anyone was a tough enough contender to break through Regulus Black’s stone walls.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” the older Black brother utters in disbelief from beside you. His voice is a whisper and whether anyone heard him or not, they never showed it.

As expected, Regulus narrows his eyes at you and scowls deeply. He looks both offended and disgusted at your greeting towards him.

Sirius frowns deeply at his younger brother’s antisocial behaviour while Remus tries to keep a neutral face despite his instincts wanting to kick in and protect you. The lycanthrope has grown a sisterly fondness for you, all of the marauders have, but him especially seeing as you were the very few people who could actually cheer him up before and after a full moon. Naturally, Peter cowers slightly at the confrontation but tries to mask his fear — although unsuccessful from the intensified glare directed his way and the satisfied smirk that followed on the small circle of friends around Regulus. James doesn’t seem to mind the interaction at all, smiling harmlessly throughout the interaction. Look at you making friends! He’s so proud!

“Aren’t you going to eat lunch?” You ask with an adorable tilt of your head as Regulus feels his eye twitch. This has to be a sham…nobody really acts like this.

“That’s none of your business,” Regulus is loyal to his principle of keeping all interactions brief; his response epigrammatic. However, it’s forced through clenched teeth, his tone biting and a direct opposition to the calm demeanour he famously displays.

“But what if you get hungry later on? Won’t you get stomach pains?”

“Again,” the younger Black brother emphasises his irritation with the narrowing of his eyes, “that’s none of your concern,” you want to continue arguing, saddened by his resistance; nobody should feel hungry during classes, it makes the hours drag on far longer than necessary, “now move out of my way, this whole act of yours isn’t cute —you’re not cute,”

Sirius scoffs and begins to pull you into his side as Remus steps away with Peter to make way, both frowning deeply at the way the Slytherin spoke to you. James, however, was stock still, the world suddenly moving at a snails pace around him.

‘Not cute?’ James looks at you, his earlier smile slowly slipping away as he blinks his face between you and Regulus, ‘Not cute…NOT CUTE?!’

“WhaT dID YoU SAy?!!” James screeched loud enough to draw the entire hall of students’ attention, “LIES!” He continues to defend as everyone looks at him as if he’s lost his mind, even Regulus who was an expert at keeping his expression some cold.

“Jame—“ You’re cut off when James reaches over and holds your face with one hand, cupping his palm under your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks and turn your lips outwards, rendering you unable to speak.

“ShE’S thE CUTEst! JUST lOok at HER! Her BEAutY is LiKe NO OthEr! Do YOu KNow hOW MaNy PeOPLe I’ve HAd to SCarE AwaY from APPrOchInG Her wITh bAD InTenTIONS?!” James emphasises by pulling you close to his side with his other arm and stepping the two of you closer to Regulus who steps back. He doesn’t know how to describe it but Regulus felt threatened by the fire fiercely blazing in James’ eyes, “YoU JUsT nEEd to See heR in BeTTEr LiGHTinG! THATS ALL! ThESE STupiD HaLLWay CanDLes ARen’t ENOUGH!” James reaches for the younger Slytherin, a game plan already forming in his head, “CoME wITh ME!”

“Get away from me, Potter!” Regulus hurriedly steps away from the older Gryffindor’s grip, flustered and avoiding your adorably squished face. Paired with your large, round eyes, puffed out, pouty lips and dinky nose… your winsome features are nowhere near cute!

Regulus makes his escape by forcing his way past, his heart racing from the adrenaline of the bizarre encounter just adrenaline.

You’re not cute. You’re not cute. You’re not cute. YOU’RE NOT…cute…

A/N : i wrote this incredibly sleep deprived but inspired. i hope you enjoyed <3

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @delusional-4-fake-people @linaax @girl-detective16 @riaa-moony @ericityyy

#regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #regulus imagine #regulus black imagine #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black #regulus black x you #regulus black x female reader #marauders #marauders era fanfiction #hp marauders

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bluetimeombre · 8 months

Text

Cowboy like me! ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

Your band has a new single out and a certain actor stars in the music video. Sparks fly just as high as rumours.

[i get so bored in work so I get so inspired to just write a bunch of thing i wish I was doing instead of sitting around. I’m still thinking of how to end ‘call it what you want to’ but enjoy this for now. In this I’ve used the last dinner party as a reference cause hello?! Obsessed, but ur band is called 15screens- idk I made it up]

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

liked by… yourusername, tomblyth, florencepugh & oliviarodrigo

15screens: ‘cowboy like me’ music video out now!!! Staring the cowboy himself Tom Blyth!!

895k likes 501k comments

user: FINALL6!!!!

user: omg it’s gonna be iconic

user: my favourite band and favourite actor?!

user: omg!! Omg!!! Ahhhhh!

user: the drought is over

user: they’re feeding us!!

user: NEW ALBUM WHEN

user: cowboy like me is such an underrated track of yours

user: tom is so hot as a cowboy I actually can’t

user: I can’t tell who I’d rather be in the music video, tomblyth or yourusername

tomblyth: thank you so much for having me! An honour

15screens: come back anytime

user: I’m shipping, I’m shipping

user: did everyone see yourusername and tomblyth in the music video!!!! So hot

user: best girl band in history

liked by… 15screens, tomblyth, emmalouisecorrin, tchalamet & rachelzegler

yourusername: cowboy like me!! Feast your eyes

tagged: tomblyth

982k likes 561k comments

user: feasting my eyes i am

user: miss GURL

user: best music video ever

user: excUSE ME?! The part where your in a field just casually undressing ONTOP of the TOM BLYTH

user: you know what they say, save a horse…

user: nobody has ever looked so good in a cowboy hat 😍😍

user: tom blyth is a lucky man

user: the CHEMISTRY

user: ur so hot together

user: she never misses

user: the last pic

user: hotttt

tomblyth: 🤠

user: tom 😭😭😭

user: all I’m saying is they’d be the hottest couple out there

liked by… yourusername, 15screens, rachelzegler & hunterschafer

tomblyth: cowboy like me music video, out now. What a wonderful experience, thank you so much 15 screens for having me

1m likes 766k comments

user: omg!!

user: what’s cookin good looking

user: the crossover we didn’t know we needed

user: he is so hot

user: suddenly I’m into cowboys

user: I’ll ride you like a horse

user: the last picture!! They’re so cute

user: they look so good together

user: I never thought, in this day and age I’d be shipping yourusername and tomblyth

user: so unbelievably hot

user: I need the song injected into my bloodstream

user: gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure

user: I’m barking rn

user: not to be horny on main but I’m horny

liked by… tomblyth, 15screens, zendaya & Jacobelordi

yourusername: let them eat cake, she said

650k likes 300k comments

user: miss gurl?!????

user: TOM?!

user: I knew it!!

user: it’s been a month and I still haven’t recovered from cowboy like me music video

user: is this their announcement

user: save a horse, ride a cowboy

user: it’s happening!!!

user: I’m dead

user: THATS DEFINITELY TOM HE LIKED

user: confirm it so I can die happy

user: mother is mothering

user: she ate

user: so hot

user: a bisexual dilemma

liked by… 15screens, rachelzegler, joshuandresrivera & yourusername

tomblyth: soft launch?

tagged: yourusername

1.3m likes 889k comments

user: WHAT!

user: I don’t think tom knows what soft launch is

user: this is the hardest of all launches!!!

user: I knew it!!

user: NOOO I WANT TO BE THERE

user: I’m in love

user: parents!

user: she’s so hot

user: they’re gonna rule the world

user: this has cleared my acne and got me good grades

user: YEYYAYAY

user: that should be me! Holding your hand, that should be me making you laugh

user: tom- babe, that’s not what soft launch is

user: I didn’t know I needed this until now

user: and all to think it was because of that music video

liked by… yourusername, tomblyth, zendaya & oliviarodrigo

15screens: ‘The greatest’ out now, featuring blonde tom blyth (because yourusername begged him to go blonde and he’s whipped)

884k likes 651k comments

user: ONG again!

user: another one!

user: 15screens are officialy the biggest fans of tomblyth and yourusername

user: BLONDE IS BACK

user: yourusername Doing gods work

user: he’s so in love with her

user: he’s whipped Omg hahahahha

user: 15 screens is officially gonna be a Fanpage dedicated ti them

user: everyone say thank you yourusername

#tom blyth x yn #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tomblyth #tom blyth x reader #the last dinner party #so hot 🔥🔥🔥#holy fuck #cowboy #billy the kid #cowboy like me

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kitchenisking · 2 months

Text

August Fic Rec

My loves, just a quick reminder that all the rec are tagged at the bottom for easy access to the rest of my recs. and lets not forget to send love to our writers with comments and kudos❤️

to be with those I like by sheafrotherdon - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,323, sterek)

It's Deaton who tells Derek that Stiles is back in town, a broken marriage behind him, his daughter in tow.

Fixer Upper by Arsenic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 39,169, sterek)

After the events of 5a, Stiles is estranged from Scott--and by association, the pack. Derek is off finding himself, or, at least, Germany and some other places. There's a lot of texting and post cards and then Derek comes back to find Stiles missing. Worse, nobody seems to remember Stiles existing.

"Here's to the best and most unconventional decision ever made in Vegas." byEvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 917, sterek)

The last thing Stiles expected when he woke up was to be in bed with Derek. Actually, scratch that. The last thing Stiles expected when he woke up was to be married.

Howl Ya' Doin' ? by wanderingeyre - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,196, sterek)

The first few posts of “Howl Ya Doin’?” were just Stiles talking about being a human in a werewolf pack. Then Derek accidentally walked in on Stiles live streaming and Stiles pulled him into an impromptu Q&A about being a born wolf. That video went viral, much to Derek’s horror and Stiles’s barely concealed glee.

Heart's on Fire by julietangel - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,696, sterek)

Stiles should have known it was him, but he blames the games for distracting him from his soulmate.

Torn Apart and Set Anew by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Mature, Words: 18,681, sterek)

“Someone’s here,” Stiles whispered, feeling weirdly numb.

The metal latch clicked. With ice filling his lungs and his fingers shaking terribly, Stiles swiveled his head in the direction of a window and froze for a beat of a second.

There was a face behind the glass.

Forgettable and plain, but at the same time familiar face.

Hello by nightlight9 - (Rating: T, Words: 9,725, sterek)

Stiles calls Derek's cellphone years after having no contact, leaving voicemails for the werewolf though there is never a reply. Then when the number becomes disconnected, Stiles has to venture back to the home that they had build together before he left in order to find out what has happened to the man he loved. The answer is not what he expects, and it makes him evaluate what he left behind.

Deputized by WhoNatural - (Rating: T, Words: 2,423, sterek)

dep·u·tize verb temporarily act or speak as a deputy. synonyms: stand in for, sit in for, fill in for, cover for, substitute for, replace

”"He’s too old for you," Derek grunts, and, shit - Stiles looks indignant.

I Trust You by buckysharons - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,052, sterek)

stiles let’s derek feed off of him for the first time

Neon Flashing Signs by Karla_Kattz - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,799, sterek)

“I don’t know, it’s just…” Derek trails off. “Me being in a room full of alphas?” Stiles tries to help out with words. “Yeah, but… but not only?” Derek sighs. Stiles waits patiently for his boyfriend to gather his thoughts. “You know, I’m always protective of you, but my wolf, it’s never been that anxious. I can’t describe it better.” “We aren’t in a life or death situation. It’s just a Convention. I’ve met other alphas before, plenty of them and sure, I haven’t met them all at once, but still. Plus there are other omegas too,” he tries to resonate. “And I can look after myself. I’m not a damsel in distress.” Seriously, Stiles is a smart omega, raised by a Sheriff. He’s a master of small talk. What can possibly happen, right?

——— Where the pack attends a Werewolf Convention and nothing of what happens was on Stiles‘ bingo card.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs

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gyuswhore · 1 year

Text

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!!

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you”

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

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