#plus art block.. sigh

[jarold-rat]

I don’t believe I posted these here . .

Theyre kinda like nellis if you really think about it

[cavefairy]

the urge to draw a response for an ask vs just giving the silly lil answer without art or perhaps doing silly things with my sona via pony town art block sucks but i have silly pony maker game

[nnight-dances]

REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

[joedirtymadre]

How bout an angst and fluffy Luffy x reader? Like, he's trying his best to be a good boyfriend but he doesn't know exactly how do it. So he gets insecure and afraid of reader leaving him

The Painting

LUFFY X READER! ANGST + FLUFF! (STILL ACCEPTING REQUESTS! SEND EM RN! 😤😤)

You were peacefully working on a new painting. You had a strong passion for art, but recently you have decided to pick up painting again. Plus, today is a slow day on the ship, so why not? You hummed to yourself, as you continued to add the finishing touches to your work. “Wow, you really outdid yourself this time,” you smiled to yourself as you took a moment to look at your canvas. It was a portrait of the whole crew, you wanted to surprise everyone at dinner with it. You spent the last few weeks on it too, so I’m sure that they’ve been waiting for the reveal.

You then heard your door open and saw Luffy. “Hey Luffy,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N)! Hey can I hide here? I’m playing hide and seek with Usopp and Chopper,” he explained as he ran over and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Sure, but please don’t tip over my supplies. Last time you made a mess I spent 2 weeks cleaning it up,” you sighed. “I promise!” He said as he quickly jumped into your supply closet.

You continued your artwork, until you were disrupted again. You heard a small knock on the door and soon Chopper opened the door. “Hi Chopper, what brings you here?” You asked. “Hi (Y/N)! Have you seen Luffy?” He asked. “Hmmm… I haven’t sorry,” you smiled. “Hmmm… well can I look around your office? Just in case,” he said. “Go ahead,” you said as you continued painting.

Chopper checked under the table, in your art boxes, and was now heading to your closet. You lightly giggled as you knew your boyfriend was about to get caught. Chopper quickly opened the closet door, and out jumped Luffy. He began running around the small office, “Hey Luffy, this isn’t tag!” Chopper shouted as he chased him. “Now it is!” He yelled, as they circled around you. “Luffy be care-“ you were cut off by Luffy running into you. You fell straight into your paint, easel, and most importantly your painting.

The two boys quickly stopped and stared as you slowly picked yourself up and stared at the destroyed painting. Smudged and ripped, even your easel broke. “(Y-Y/N) I-“ you ran out before you could hear another word from your stupid boyfriend.

Luffy’s POV

I watched as (Y/N) ran off, I tried to chase after her but Chopper blocked me. “Wait! I think she should be alone right now Luffy, she might say something she doesn’t mean because of how she’s feeling. So, just give her some space,” he explained. “But I have to tell her I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to play,” I explained. “I know, but we messed up. Really bad, and she needs time to herself right now,” Chopper said. I grabbed my head in frustration.

I looked over to the destroyed painting and realized it was a painting of all of us. “This is what she’s been working on for weeks,” I said softly. “Oh no, and we ruined it!” Chopper cried. “No, I ruined it. I always ruin things for her,” I said as I picked up the painting. “That’s not true, she loves you Luffy,” Chopper said. I shook my head, “She deals with me, I keep doing dumb things and it always ends with me hurting her or breaking her stuff,” I sighed as I placed the canvas on her table.

“It’s ok Luffy, if she didn’t love you she wouldn’t be with you. Right?” Chopper asked. “I guess,” I said. “I’m gonna go check on her,” Chopper said before running out of the room. I sat on her stool and stared at the mess I made. “Why do I keep messing things up? Maybe… I should leave her alone, then she wouldn’t have to deal with me. She could tell me to leave her alone if we weren’t dating, like Nami,” I said to myself.

I dragged myself to the deck and straight to my spot, to try and think. “Hey Luffy,” Nami said as she sat on her beach chair. “Hey…” I said softly as I continued to drag myself. “What’s wrong? Did (Y/N) kick you out of her art room?” She laughed. “No,” I moped. “Woah, then what’s wrong? Here come take a seat,” she said as she pointed to the other beach chair.

I told her the whole story and ended up with 4 bumps on my head. “You idiot! How could you do that to her?” Nami frowned. “I know… Nami… has she ever talked about how much I mess up around her?” I asked. “(Y/N)? No, not really. She just tells me how fun and cute you are,” she explained. “Really? Even that time I broke her clay pot?” I asked. “Oh man, she was so mad that day, but no… Now that I think about it she didn’t talk bad about you,” Nami said. “What about the time I accidentally squeezed her paint tube too hard and it got all over her face?” I asked. “Nope, nothing,” she said. “Or when I dropped-“ I was cut off.

“Ok I get it, you’ve done a lot of bad things. But she’s never talked bad about you, I think she knows that mistakes happen… especially around you,” Nami pointed out. “But I really messed up this time, what if she wants to break up. She should break up with me… I keep making her mad or sad,” I sighed as I fell back into the chair. “Or… you could make it up to her. Come on captain, you’ve fought warlords and admirals. I’m sure you can fix this problem and make your girlfriend a little less mad at you,” she said. “You’re right! I can try and fix it!” I said excitedly. “But I’m gonna need help,” I said, determined.

Your POV

You’ve been in bed for the last 6 hours. Chopper and Nami checked up on you, but you had no strength to get up. You just need some time to calm down. Suddenly a knock on your door, you didn’t respond, hoping the person on the other side would think you’re asleep. However, the door slowly opened. You saw your idiot captain peek inside, “(Y/N)?” He called out.

“Go away Luffy, I don’t feel good right now,” you said as you turned around, showing your back to him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, really sorry… I know you’re really mad at me, but I wanted to make it up to you,” he said as he stepped close. “How?” You asked. “Can I show you?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You slowly turned around, seeing a distressed look on your usually careless boyfriend. “Sure,” you said calmly before getting up.

“But I need you to wear this,” he said, handing you a blindfold. You stared at it with one eyebrow raised. “Please?” He asked. You nodded and quickly put it over your eyes, you then felt a warm hand grab yours. “Alright hold on,” you heard, before being picked up in bridal style. “L-Luffy?” You asked, feeling your face heat up. “Well, I don’t want you to trip while being blindfolded, so I’ll just carry you,” he explained.

You then laid in his arms as he carried you to wherever it was that he wanted to show you. “Alright, I’m gonna put you down now,” he said softly before helping you down onto your feet. “Alright now on 3, take off your blindfold,” he said as he stepped away from you. “Ok,” you said.

“1,2,3,” he said, and you quickly took off the blindfold. You gasped at the scene in front of you. It was your art room, clean and way more organized than it was before. Also, your easel was fixed with a bunch of more upgrades to it, and finally your eyes fell to the painting on the easel. “My painting!” You said excitedly. You smiled as you saw the rough strokes and the taped backing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was way better than how it looked earlier.

“Did you do all of this?” You turned to ask Luffy. “I had some help, but I wanted to fix what I messed up earlier,” he explained. You ran over and gave him a kiss, “Thank you Luffy! I’m so happy,” you smiled and hugged him. “You’re not still mad?” He asked nervously. “Mad?” You asked, confused. “Well… I always mess up your crafts or art projects, I know how upset it makes you,” he said as he stared at the floor. “Well I do get a bit upset, but I know you don’t mean it. I just give myself some time alone so I don’t say anything that I might regret later,” you explained. “Wow, Chopper was right,” he said.

“But I’m really sorry I messed up your painting, I know how hard you worked on it,” he said, before pulling you into a hug. “It’s ok, I forgive you. Just next time, no more games in my art room, ok?” You asked. “Deal,” he smiled. “Oh, I made you something,” he said, pulling away. “Huh?” You asked. He grabbed a small canvas from the table and turned to show you.

You pouted when you realized it was a portrait of you and him. “I know it’s not that good, but-“ you interrupted him. “It’s perfect! I’ll hang it up right now!” You said as you pulled him into a hug. “Really?” He said excitedly. “Yeah, and we should paint together sometime, you’re a natural,” you smiled, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You think so? I did have fun doing this,” he grinned. “Mhmm!” You nodded and you both went to hang his masterpiece on your wall.

[romanshomeonwattpad]

Girl in New York

pairings - art donaldson/reader | challengers au! |

“__” = Y/N

masterslist | next chapter

sypnosis - men would call you a siren, and women would call you a bitch. but all he knows is that you’re his.

warnings - future smut

word count - 1.5k

authors note - this fic will be having a part two. its completely out my comfort zone, and i wanted to experiment my skills as a writer to create a character super complex. any hate will be deleted and blocked. reminder that this is purely fiction!

© elliotsblunt 2024. do not repost, modify, or translate.

His pink lips glistened with beads of sweat that resembled diamonds. Unknowingly licking your own—your thighs clenched as his girlfriend pecked his cheek. You didn’t know why, but having the attention of every man in the vicinity made you feel as if you were worth something. The pain on girls’ faces after seeing their man’s arms wrapped around your figure always made you….

…….bite back a smile.

Your current subject was taken. It was perfect. A challenge never bored you—but only encouraged your habits.

Art Donaldson was on every girl’s agenda at the moment. Whenever you went to your local gym, he was playing on the tv screen at every treadmill with hunger in their eyes. These suburban women go crazy for a pretty boy with nice eyes and a fit bod. And the fact that you’ve never seen him smile, is a plus. He wasn’t a pushover.

He was a challenge.

The blonde haired girl got on her tiptoes, wrapping her tiny arms around Art’s shiny neck. You could see his defined muscles slightly bulge beneath his completely soaked t-shirt, making him look absolutely delicious. He offered her a smile, mumbled something, and she nodded before going to the snack bar.

Taking this as your chance, you dug into your purse and pulled out a cherry sucker from a few days ago. Plucking it into your mouth, you hummed at the sweet tart like taste—carrying your long legs that were hugged tightly by a pair of tiny workout shorts towards the tennis player. He had been tying his shoe when you paused before him.

You cocked out your hip, clearing your throat. His eyes slowly trailed up your figure, jaw clenching as they finally met yours. “Cute girlfriend of yours. Looks pretty young, though….” you sigh afterwards, swirling your tongue over the top of the pop. Art’s eyes slightly widened at the sight, gulping. “I’m _ _! What’s your name, pretty boy?”

You already knew it. As soon as he had shown up on your tv screen.

His eyes were bluer in person, if possible. It was as if there were thousands of diamonds carved into his eyes as the sun set on them. Sun-kissed skin had a thin gloss of sweat from his tournament, his broad shoulders quickly going up and down as he breathed heavily. He was considerably taller than you. He had to look down at you.

“Uh…Donaldson. Art…Donaldson.”

Bending over a tad, making sure your large breasts slightly spill out your bra—you smile innocently. Your lips release the suction on the lollipop with a loud pop! “Pleasure! I was wondering if you offer private lessons?”

Shamelessly, his eyes darted over your hardened nipples. His tongue poked out and slid across his puffy bottom lip, “I um, I charge 20 bucks an hour.”

“Deal. But I’m sure we can come up with a way to give me a discount,” you winked, pulling out your phone from your bra. You heard his breathing turn ragged as you handed him it. “Put your number in. I’ll let you know when I can start.”

His teeth sunk into his lower lip, narrowing his eyes at you. “Just meet me here next Tuesday same time. Make sure to bring cash,” he muttered, looking away from you. Your brow rose at his sudden dryness—but realized you probably intimated him with your forwardness. And to make matters worse, his air headed girlfriend had returned with a boba drink in her hand.

“Art, who’s this? A friend?”

“_ _ Smith. And no—we aren’t friends. I’m only a customer, a happy one at that.” Excusing yourself, you made sure to not even glance at her. You sent a brow towards Art, his eyes filled with a storm.

“See you soon, Mr. Donaldson.”

When next Tuesday rolled around—to say you were ecstatic was an understatement. Your black tennis skirt stopped right at the bottom of your ass, a black skin tight jacket hugging your breasts tightly. The side of your heel hit the bottom of your racket as your hair swayed in its ponytail. A smirk grew onto your lips as you spotted Art, waiting for you at the court.

Pulling your glasses down, you noted how his intense eyes burned holes into your body. “Hello, again. Your girlfriend here?”

“Why does that matter?” His tone was cold—a challenge. Every second seemed to get better and better.

He looked scrumptious. There was a hickey poking out from beneath the collar of his white tennis shirt. His girlfriend probably left it there so you wouldn’t try anything—to mark her dominance per se. But the problem with that is, you don’t respect anybody’s property. What’s yours….

……..is yours.

Your brow raises. “I’m getting the impression you don’t like me to much.”

He scoffs, “I know what type of girl you are. Not interested.”

You didn’t realize this was an assessment.

“I’m unaware of what—“

“I have a girlfriend for fucksake, and you’re dressed like—like—“

You innocently round your eyes at him, deciding to play it off as if you’re hurt by his words. But he didn’t actually know the real you—he was just trying to paint a picture for his own benefit. He was scared of what you were capable of. Which meant he was cracking.

“I didn’t come here to be slut shamed,” you shrug, taking a step back. “I’ve been watching your tournaments on tv for a few months now, and thought you were beyond talented. I tried my best not to act too starstruck and got carried away.”

His eyes soften.

Bingo.

“But I’ll leave—“

“Look, I’m sorry. Let’s just forget about this and start over.” He ran a hand through his hair, then leaving it on the back of his neck.

You bit back a smirk.

There were pleading undertones laced in his words, feeling guilty for judging your outfit and questioning your morality. You knew this time to come off less forward, figuring out he liked submissive women instead. Women who go with what he wants, who let him control the situations.

“Understood. Shall we get started?” You offer, in which he chuckles and agrees.

For the duration of two hours, Art accessed your abilities. He complimented you multiple times on how quick you were. Although he was significantly faster when it came to hitting the ball—you knew he didn’t expect you to be at least a little good. After the session, Art when to retrieve the both of you water as you grabbed the cash from your purse.

You should’ve paid him triple just for how good his butt looked in those shorts.

“Thanks,” Art handed you your matte black hydroflask—snatching you from your thoughts. He watched you take a couple swigs from it, a drop of water rolling down between the crack of your breasts.

He licked his lips before chuckling, hoping you didn’t catch him stare. “You hate the color black, huh?”

Looking down at your hydro, you laughed before holding out the cash for him. “It’s my favorite color. Besides, it goes with everything.”

“Hm,” his eyes fall to your hand offering the cash. Instead of taking both 50 dollar bills—he takes one and sends you a smirk.

“You get a half off discount for me being a dick. One time offer.”

You nod and chew on your bottom lip as he swallows thickly. “Perhaps I can at least buy you a smoothie or something. It’s pretty hot,” you offer, adding a suggestive tone to the end of your sentence. Noticing a hard tent forming in his pants, Art steps back, clearing his throat.

“I can’t today. I’ll see you on Thursday—same time.” He mutters, turning around and offering a sheepish smile before walking away. You wondered if he was going to rub one out in his car, or fuck his girlfriend and imagining it was your pussy he was driving into.

The thought made a pool begin to seep through your panties.

The tip of his cock poking out between his fisted palm, leaking with drops of creamy pre-cum. A mouth of pure ecstasy pulling at his features as his mouth hangs open, gripping his center console as he finishes all over the interior of his car.

Or fucking his girl from behind, imagining your bouncy ass rippling with every thrust. His fingers tugging at your strands, reaching the deepest spot inside your dripping pussy. He would think of you—not her. He would….

……cum for you.

Patrick, your cousin, had been visiting from East Boston and staying at your family’s house. He was passionate about tennis, just like you, and pretty much taught you everything you know. That’s why you were so skilled. Learning from Art was simply to get into his pants.

And of course, he wanted to crash your tennis class with Art. Said some bullshit about Art and him meeting at a summer tennis camp—whatever. You were plotting on snatching Art from his perky titted girlfriend—but with Patrick there, it may be a bit hard.

“For fucks sake, I said no!” You shout before lighting a cigarette, painting your big toe a glittery cherry color you bought at the drug-store. You heard your neighbor slam their window shut before Patrick slides open the screen door and comes out to the backyard where you were. After taking a puff, you blow the smoke into his face. “Love you, cuzzo. But you’re cockblocking me here.”

Patrick snatched the cigarette from you, taking a frustrated hit of his own. “Didn’t you say he had a girlfriend?”

“And?”

You receive a glare, causing you to roll your eyes and snatch the cigarette back from him. “Fine. Whatever. You can come.”

He gasps before hugging you, causing you to scoff and push him off you. It would be cool for him to reunite with his old friend, but this was so not the time for that. Patrick got on your nerves but you had love for the dude. It’s always been hard to say no to him. It was despicable.

You took another hit. The rancid stench filled your senses, smoke swirling around your figure. After finishing your last toe—Patrick pulled up a chair and sits on it backwards. “You like this dude or what?”

A laugh couldn’t leave your lips after. Who does he think you are?

You haven’t truly dated a guy since you were seventeen. Ever since your ex, you didn’t grow feelings for another individual. And it had nothing to do with him—you just outgrew relationships. It was fun to have options. Especially when those options, were already taken.

Men with girlfriends are harder to obtain. They had settled already, and it takes a lot for them to trust you. But once there’s a clear understanding you don’t genuinely care for them…and only what’s in between their legs—

That’s when the real fun begins.

“Hell no. He’s hot. That’s it.”

Patrick lights another cigarette, nodding before blowing out the white ropes of smoke. “Ah. I see. You wanna fuck his brains out.”

“Precisely.”

“Back when I met him, he was dating this cute tiny little thing. What was her name? Tracy? Tara? Tam—Tiffany!”

Your smirk twitched, taking another hit of your cigarette. It was almost finished at this point. “Is she blonde?”

He looks over at you, sending a brow. “You know her?”

“I’ve seen her prancing around.”

“He told me she’s controlling and shit. Wonder if that’s still true,” he pops open the cooler and pulls out a beer, tilting his head back and taking a swig. You suddenly perk up at his words as he swallows the fermented alcohol harshly.

“Heard they took therapy classes together.”

You pressed a finger on your chin, giving him a mischievous look. “They’ve been together for a while now…huh?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Hm.

It was going to feel all the much better to steal him.

[saerins]

─── 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍-𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏

+ michael kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, kaiser is persistent lol, making out, suggestive

notes: idk babes …. hopefully i didn’t butcher him <3 running back to sae after this 🫡 kaiser lovers, enjoy the one and only kaiser fic on my blog !! hehe

summary: kaiser has more reason to visit his regular cafe spot now. and he’s not gonna quit until he makes you his.

kaiser thinks you’re pretty.

call him stupid or superficial or whatever, but he can’t help it. he walks over to the far end of the counter where you’re working, staring intently at the latte art you’re doing.

it’s horrible. you’re probably new. figures, because he lives right above in the apartment complex and he’s never seen you here before. it’s a damn crime.

“i want a flat white cappuccino, hot, and could you make it with a heart on top?”

you furrow your brows and look up at him, his elbows propped on the stainless steel countertop, cheeky smirk filling his face. you continue wearing your straight expression as you go back to the task at hand.

“i’m not the waiter. you can ask mimiko, she’s the one at the register.”

kaiser doesn’t know her either. she must be new too.

you’re not that friendly. not that kaiser minds; he’ll break through your walls. that’s his personal challenge. he’ll do it.

“but i wanna talk to you.”

still unamused, you sigh and look at him, putting down your frother.

“get in line.”

“hey y/n!”

kaiser’s still optimistic after the failed fifth attempt. he managed to get your name from mimiko when you finally made him go away that first day he saw you. to which you groaned, but kaiser only grinned.

today’s no different. you frown when he walks in, immediately relegating to the back corner of the bar. too bad though, kaiser’s got charms, he’s made quick friends with everyone else here plus he has the famous soccer player privilege so your other colleagues love him.

that’s why he manages to get behind the counter in no time, saying he’ll help work the register. but really, he has no clue what to do and he’s just dilly-dallying around you.

“no, real talk, why do you hate me so much?” kaiser asks, not really bothered but more curious.

you don’t even take him seriously. you’ve looked at him probably about twice this entire day, and one time wasn’t even by choice; it was only because kaiser was blocking your path to the fridge and wouldn’t budge unless you said please. (you didn’t. you just glared at him until he moved.)

“i don’t like your hair.”

“hey, what’s wrong with my hair?”

you shrug. “just don’t like it.”

“okay but what about my tattoos, you like those right?”

kaiser moves to adjust his shirt to let you see but you walk off.

“not really.”

he sighs, you’re really hard to get close to, he’ll give you that. but he’s not one to give up.

before kaiser can say anything else, a bunch of girls from the counter call your name, and he sees you smile for the first time since he’s met you and he feels even more hooked on you.

the control you have over him is pretty insane, and it’s only because kaiser allows it.

you and your friends talk about normal stuff. they’re asking how work’s going and you say it’s fine—just that there’s an annoying guy that won’t quit talking to you.

“wow, fifth date and you’re already telling your friends about me?” kaiser interjects, putting an arm around your shoulder and greeting your friends. he’s positive you’re seething right now, but he continues on. “hey there, you can call me kaiser.”

as your friends blush and introduce themselves, all kaiser notices is how you don’t push him away like you always used to upon first contact. so hey, maybe he is making progress after all.

“so, barista y/n l/n, what’re your plans for today?”

it’s been two months since you started working in the cafe, and it’s been two months since kaiser’s relentless pursuit. he’s not backing down though.

“well, player michael kaiser, that’s none of your business,” you absentmindedly respond as you clean the glass in your hand with the cloth and put it back up on the shelf.

lucky for him, mimiko is on his side.

“our dear y/n has a blind date tonight,” she coos, getting a sigh out of you and winking at kaiser.

“first of all, i’m not a player,” kaiser makes sure to tell you, hurriedly making his way behind the counter as if he owns the place. “second of all, who’s the guy?”

you press your lips into a firm line and repeat yourself, “none of your business, kaiser.”

“but it is.”

“why the hell would it be?”

kaiser pouts. “because i like you.”

it takes you a while to respond, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i’ve been nothing but mean to you, you sure you’re not just a masochist?”

that’s a blatant lie, kaiser knows. he knows you’re not actually mean, you just have a sharp tongue.

kaiser notices how you notice him—placing three sugars in his coffee and doing it for him whenever you make it. adding to that; you personally make all of kaiser’s drinks instead of handing it to the other barista, and you make little hearts on top. (at first he thought you might’ve really wanted to poison him, but hey, he’s alive so probably not.) he knows you give someone else the horrible latte art and give him the nicer one you do. he knows how you’ve never actually been mean to him aside from saying you hated his hair and tattoos. (but then he also caught you staring at the rose that one time so maybe you don’t.)

“nope, pretty sure i like you,” kaiser affirms, because in the sunlight he thinks your invisible halo is shining and he’d be a lot more lovestruck now if half of him wasn’t upset that you’re going to go on a blind date when he can’t even score alone time with you.

“what’s his name?” he asks you again, when you don’t respond to him.

it’s about a half hour till closing, he’ll have the whole time to pitch himself to you, maybe. score a date or something. hell, maybe he’ll even convince you not to go on the—

“y/n, right?”

kaiser whips his head to the side to see your supposed date already here.

“i’m yukimiya kenyu,” he’s shaking your hand and you’re actually smiling. at a guy. do you smile at anyone as long as they’re not kaiser? “ready to go?”

“she has another half hour to go, idiot,” kaiser lets slip, catching a warning glare from you.

yukimiya grins sheepishly at the animosity, but you’re quick to defuse the tension. “actually i get off a half hour early today so i’m good to go,” you tell yukimiya, ignoring kaiser behind you. “just let me get my bag and we can go, okay?”

while you’re in the back clocking out, kaiser glares at your date, who’s leaning against the counter and scrolling through his socials. he’s clean, neat, looks like he could be a model. is that your type? kaiser can do that too, does he need to show you all the endorsement deals he’s done?

you leave without saying goodbye, laser focused on yukimiya and whatever the fuck he’s saying and kaiser has never felt more irritated.

“so, how’s your date with pretty boy?”

that’s mimiko asking, because kaiser is still a little pouty even a week later.

“it was fine, we’re into a lot of the same stuff apparently.”

kaiser’s still hovering around you though, because it’s off-season and he’s going to spend every moment he can chasing you. you’re not making it easy though. you’re still giving him the cold shoulder sometimes.

“when’s the next date?”

kaiser is too focused on the thin air he’s staring into to notice you briefly throwing him a quick glance.

“don’t know if there is one, honestly.”

that manages to get kaiser’s attention, his mood immediately perking up and eyes now fully focused on you.

“why not? thought you guys had a lot in common or whatever,” kaiser half-mocks, still a little salty. (which is a little funny to you, considering what kind of person he is in the soccer world.)

you roll your eyes and sigh, moving to keep all the cutleries that you’ve just shined. “don’t know,” you tell them, “maybe because when i was on the date i kept thinking of this annoying guy i know.”

kaiser freezes up. did you really just say that? he’s going to take a shot and just assume he’s the only annoying guy you know. no one should take that position from him.

from the side, mimiko slowly shuffles away, leaving the two of you alone by the coffee machine.

“so… does that mean you’re giving annoying guy a shot?” kaiser’s grinning from ear to ear now, and it’s probably infectious because you’re trying to suppress a grin too.

“maybe, but if he screws it up i’m done with him.”

you’re still trying to act fierce, but it’s too late because kaiser can see through it now. you’re really just a softie inside, aren’t you?

“then are you free this weekend?”

you look at him for the first time with no disinterest in your eyes, like you’re really looking at him now. “what for?”

kaiser smirks. “annoying guy is gonna take you out for the best first date of your life.”

kaiser doesn’t know if he succeeded. but hey, it’s been three hours since the date started and you haven’t run away yet so he must be doing okay.

he takes you to the amusement park first, because one time when you were idly chattering away with mimiko he heard you saying you haven’t been to one in ages. so here you are, on the third rollercoaster ride and you’re having so much fun kaiser’s proud of himself.

turns out you’re surprisingly nice to be around when you’re not being such a grouch. kaiser’s only liking you even more now. likes you even when you’re so excited to eat the corn dog that you get mustard on your face—that only means he gets to wipe it off. likes you also when you bat your pretty eyelashes at him so he’d win you that bunny toy you like in the claw machine.

“so, how am i doing?” kaiser asks when he escorts you to his car—next stop is dinner.

you hum, taking a bite of the big unicorn candy floss in your hand. “a solid six.”

kaiser clicks his tongue in faux annoyance, “it’ll be an eleven by the end of tonight.”

you laugh again and kaiser thinks all this work is worth it. he opens the car door for you, makes sure the aircon isn’t too cold that you freeze, lets you play your music in his car.

you’re kind of the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, but then again he might be biased. but who cares? you’re also kind of one of the most annoying, but you think the same of him. and you’re not scared of jumping into anything, he can tell because when he pulls up in a parking lot outside of the restaurant, he tells you he wants to kiss you kinda.

your answer?

kaiser never really expected you to agree. but you do; because you climb over to the driver’s seat and settle on his lap, your lips inches away and a smirk forming on your face when you see he’s taken off guard.

“want me to kiss you, kaiser?” you’re teasing him, and he thinks you’ve never looked hotter. he can feel your breath against his lips and fuck your lips are so so close and he wants to taste you so so bad.

but then he remembers who he is and straightens up, cursing himself for letting himself be so flustered into submission. “only if the lady wants it.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes and moving to open his side of the door, “well, if you don’t wanna—”

kaiser closes the door as soon as it opens and turns you to face him, “fuck, just kiss me already.”

the two of you hold onto each other, his hands around your waist and entangled in your hair, his lips gentle and rough on yours both at the same time. you taste sweet, must be all that candy floss you ate. he wants to taste more of you. the little sounds you make when you’re almost out of breath? music to his fucking ears. he’s so whipped for you and he hates you for it. but he also loves you for being like this, for being you.

you’re the first to pull away, smirking and biting your lower lip as you keep your index finger on his lips, separating him from you. “how was that, kaiser?” he doesn’t think you can sound more seductive if you tried.

“y/n l/n, you drive me insane.”

kaiser can’t even focus on dinner after that.

fourth date in and kaiser’s fucking pathetic.

really, he can’t even remember ever being this pathetic because you’ve got him wrapped around your cute little pinky finger.

“what’re you staring at, perv?” you ask, catching him staring as you’re idly flipping through the channels.

it’s a lazy sunday in, you and kaiser are at his apartment, on his bed, watching movies. kaiser sighs because ness walked in on the both of you earlier and even though he’s more than happy to show you off, he’s not looking forward to the interrogation that will unfold.

“staring at your stupid pretty face,” kaiser says, and you avert your gaze, pouting, which kaiser has found out two days ago is just to subvert from your embarrassment.

“hey, when’re you leaving for the champions league again?”

“next week, why?”

you deadpan at him, “what, not gonna invite me to something?”

kaiser stares at you for a minute, dumbfounded, before laughing. that must be the first time ever that you’re asking him for something. up until now, it’s always been him.

“you know what, forget i asked,” you grumble, pouting even more and kaiser has to peck a kiss on your lips from how adorable he thinks you’re being.

“fuck, you’re cute,” he thinks out loud, and you look away.

it’s not like the both of you are together, he thinks, as his finger moves up and down your arms, watching as the goosebumps appear and disappear. but kaiser whatever this situation is, kaiser wants it. he wants this and more and he’s so far gone in you and he doesn’t mind.

“you better be in the front row, okay?” kaiser tells you that night, resuming that conversation. you move to straddle him instead and relish in how he’s dragging his eyes all over your body.

“yes, sir.”

fuck, you really do drive him fucking insane.

kaiser finds it sexy, how you’re in the front row at one of his matches, how you’re wearing a jersey with his name and number on it, how he knows you’re cheering for him and him only.

he invites you to all of his games, puts you up in his hotel, sneaks you around so you won’t be under the public eye. it’s thrilling, and you’re still the same you, beautiful, gorgeous, kind.

you’re still not together, but now he’s sure where he’s headed with you. after six months of whatever this is, he thinks you’d kill him if you weren’t sure. and kaiser thinks you’re just waiting for him, so he’s going to make it memorable.

so, so memorable.

his team makes it to the finals, and with noel noa leading everyone, it’s no surprise they win. the bleachers go wild, everyone is chanting the club cheer, fanning their merch wildly.

kaiser is being pounced on by ness and his other teammates, so is noel. but kaiser pushes through it, weaves out of it, and he’s headed straight to you.

in front of everyone in the stadium, in front of international television, kaiser is running across the field and making his way to you.

kaiser is fast and persistent and so pathetic because he’s so into you and all he knows is he wants you around. for a long time, and forever, if he dare say. so he throws his legs over the railing and kisses you without hesitation, the entire crowd going wild.

he’s kissing you, slow and smiling against your lips and you’re holding onto his arms and fuck you’re so perfect.

“well,” you say when kaiser finally pulls away, his hand still on the back of your neck, “that’s one way to make things public.”

kaiser chuckles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “now the whole world knows you’re mine,” he says, aware that everyone on his team is probably passing money around because he’s sure they bet on when he’d finally make you his girlfriend.

“you’re crazy, michael kaiser.”

yeah, but you love him, don’t you?

he loves you too, by the way.

kaiser pulls away and winks at you right before he gets ready to get back to his team.

“guess i’ll have to top this when i ask you to marry me, huh?”

[stinkypeanutbutter]

img silly sbg art class headcanons for the folks !!!

Guess who’s first .

Ben , obvi . Who did you think ??? Aiden ?? Loser / j

BENNY BOY :

Actually enjoys art class the most out of his other classes

Usually turns things in on time , but forgets the little things though like those stupid papers that tell you to copy and draw a nose 3 times

likes using charcoal pencils !! It’s his favorite out of everything , but he dislikes how messy it gets because the charcoal always covers his hands and arms .

not the best at painting , but he’s well known of his complimentary colors and what looks good with what .

Usually listens to music while he’s drawing if Taylor is busy or gone from class . He likes taking instrumental recommendations from Ashlyn .

Takes a drawing class , obvi , along with Taylor because he didn’t really want to be alone . Plus , She’s a nice buddy to have !!

TAYLOR !! :

Takes a drawing class with Ben as said before !! Whenever they have to pick partners , they go for each other the most .

she’s not the BEST at drawing honestly , but she takes it so she can study in machinery , like drawing and mapping out designs .

She likes using those kids markers , whatever their called . She prefers using the marker FIRST then going over it with pencil to really pop out the design . Digital art also works out for her , it’s one of her favorites because there’s so many options ( sometimes )

uses google for inspo or to copy certain parts down cause Pinterest is blocked on the computers and drawing gears is hard to do ( real 😿 )

Draws little cats on her work when she’s bored or smiley faces on Bens work just cause she’s silly ( trademarked smiley — Aiden / j )

Doesn’t have photography , but she does join Logan after school to help out with certain camera functions or just take photos of eachother for her memory book ( she has one , cannot tell me otherwise )

Also uses highlighters just cause . I mean they’re fun so why not . Her and Aiden share a bunch of random stickers that he got on like eBay for customization 😼

A ;) DEN !!! :

I swear I won’t repeat the same “ Aiden is totally good at art “ headcanon but …….. 😅😅

Went into painting just so he can have fun with the colors and , sigh … he’s good at mixing them . ( he’s not allowed too , but he makes it work out . Sometimes )

RARELY gets things done in time , like he’ll be doing anything other then drawing in class , yet somehow turn it in . Well , after a few weeks past the due date .

becahse of that , no one really knows what he draws but the teacher is impressed so 🤷

I like to imagine he has one other hidden room in his house , filled with unfinished paintings , sketches , projects , puzzles , yadda . He hasn’t really shown anyone where it is , or let’s anyone inside but has let Ben check it out a few times cause he’s special 🫶

Always does his projects in his room . Why ? Cause it’s bigger , more room to work , duh . Also , so he can BLAST music because music just gives him ideas of what he can work on ( projection go hard 🤟🤟🤟 )

he doesn’t really care what he uses , but he hates charcoal , opposed to Ben . It gets everywhere ( in a bad way ) , it’s dull , he hates having to blend it with those stupid paper things because they sound and feel gross , yadda yadda yadda . Butttt he LOVES markers and crayons . Colored pencils work if he’s feeling slightly unmotivated .

uses giant AF canvas’s cause more room to work plus more detail . He loves detailing the most random stuff because it all had to blend correctly , right ? 😼☝️

likes pottery , but he doesn’t like the feeling of it drying on his hands . It’s gross and crusty . Plus he got in trouble once for throwing some of it around the class lol

Totally draws on his arms with sharpie ( ashlyn tells him no cause poisoning or something but pshhhh what does she know ? He’ll still doodle on his pants ) .

Probably does Rubix cube art when he’s feeling extra silly . Also glues and sticks whatever he can find onto what he’s working on for pizazz . But he doesn’t really like anything he’s made so 😿

also the reason why he has so many unfinished projects is because woopsy doo ADHD . It’s always “ oh I should work on this one “ but then there’s “ but this once looks funner to do “ but oh then there’s a “ which one would take me less time to do ? “ and “ if I do this first will I have time to do the other one ? “ and either ends up doing nothing or multitasking .

ASH TRAY !!! :

Takes painting with Aiden because she really didn’t want to go alone .

thought about pottery once , tried it , hated the feeling of it getting under her nails and it kept drying up and she had to wash her hands constantly and it kept getting in her hair and it was a bad experience . ( more projection )

painting really isn’t her favorite , but she likes the look of the colors mixing and it’s kinda like dancing to her , with the long , sometimes constant movements and new variations . Look it just puts her in a slight trance .

doesn’t do well with creativity coming into play , but she managed to find a way with turning art into dance , like referencing other dancers online and copying their moments onto a canvas to make it dramatic or something .

Prefers prismacolor pencils over most things , sometimes joins Taylor and Logan after school to try out photography .

Sometimes she and Aiden would share headphones and put on a shared playlist or a podcast on spotify . They always bicker about it though because ashlyn skips through songs often and Aiden can’t sit on a podcast unless it’s playing somewhere background ( still working on this one cause would that work ? Sharing headphones and listening to stuff or would that be too loud cause I’m not sure )

for once please can she see what Aiden has done like he’s always on his phone or playing with another puzzle from his backpack how do they fit in there anyway just Plsplslpsopls he has a good grade in this class how he’s so confusing sometimes double U - tea - eph

TIE - LER !! :

Joined because he already does baseball why not choose something to maybe help him relax

Bad choice , does not relax him ( most of the time ) , can’t understand color theory ( same ) , ended up getting put into the same class with Aiden ( remember when Aiden threw pottery ? Yeah . . Also ashlyn is there that’s cool but still )

He still likes hanging with Aiden , he just won’t admit it and it gets harder and harder too when he keeps writing and drawing on his work ( and him too 😡😡 )

Pretty fond of water coloring , it’s one of the few things that he enjoys doing in his pass time . . . But he’s not that good at keeping the water to a minimum so it ends up dripping everywhere .

He’s not that good at art either , but he’s pretty good at poses , specifically ones he can remember like the “ batter up ! “ stance in baseball or his signature “ crosses my arms and stares at you begrudgingly “ . He’s REALLY good at that one .

He teaches Ben Guitar , Ben teaches him easier ways to draw . Not a babyish style , but just a simplified way to do something without putting too much thought into it .

he and Taylor team up in art projects , but not in class , at home . Ash and Aiden usually partner up in class , and since he and Taylor have seperate classes there , who’s to say they can’t help eachother else where ? Twin telepathy ! ( I think , idk )

Just finishes quick and turns it in . He gave effort , and that’s good enough . If he really wants to try and ‘ finish ‘ finish it , he will . Trust .

DIALOG(an)UE !! :

Literally the only one in the group who really takes pottery ( he’s lonely someone help him )

dw Barron isnt there . He got kicked out for throwing clay at people ( mostly Logan )

Actually really likes taking pottery , it’s fun !!

He makes pots for the plants back home 💪😋

pretty good at using the utensils , one of the only people the teacher can trust to use them correctly

the pottery wheel isn’t his favorite favorite because sometimes it spins to fast and clay gets splattered everywhere , but it’s better then starting from scratch , and turns out really nice when he gets into the zone or something

made mugs for his grandparents !! ( and the gang , which they all used theirs for many different things . They love it )

not that good at coming up with particular designs , so he usually asks for help . Doesn’t matter who , he’s open to everyone’s ideas 😋☝️☝️

takes a littttllleee while to turn things in on time but he’s a good student so the teacher doesn’t mind

IM DONE !!! I DID IT !!! Praise me .

WHAT SHOULD I DO NEXT ?? HIT THAT LIKE AND SURBSCRIBE BUTTON

[perseephoneee]

christmas tree farm (elijah mikaelson x f!reader)

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 2 of ficmas!

prompt: you like drawing one of the workers at the local Christmas tree farm

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry but also this is my dream. like, yes, let me find elijah at a Christmas tree farm. i love him your honor.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

There’s never a great reason to go to a Christmas tree farm every day, yet you did it without reason.

Well, one reason.

The Mikaelson Tree Farm was only four blocks from your apartment, and initially you went to help your friend, Bonnie, pick out a tree. It was the day after Thanksgiving, but she was excited since it was her first time getting a tree alone. She convinced you with a promised cup of hot cocoa, and you found yourself at the expansive farm. What made it better than others was that an arborist owned it, so they understood the novelty of trees better than anyone.

You had brought your sketchbook along as well. As the quarter was close to ending, you were working hard on your animation final. Not that you were an art major by any means, but you liked to draw as a hobby, and when an opportunity arose to take an art class, you did so happily. Now, though, you had to do a short animation for your final, which meant lots and lots of panels. 

“Do you think this one is too dense?” Bonnie asked, taking careful steps around a Douglas Fir. You peered at it, continuing to shade out its leaves in your journal. 

“Depends on how many ornaments you want to shove in there,” you mumbled, adding a few people to the background of your illustration. 

“I’ve got a good amount that I inherited from Grams,” Bonnie sighed. 

“Then you might want some more space.”

“You’re probably right,” Bonnie looked around, hands on her hips and breath fogging before her. “Plus, this would shed a lot.”

“You’d probably want a Nordmann then,” a smooth voice said from behind you. Both you and Bonnie turned to the source of the voice, and you felt yourself freeze up as you took in the handsome man behind you. He wore a red flannel with a cargo jacket, and you wondered how he wasn’t cold. “Sorry for bothering you. My family owns the farm; I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“So, you know things about trees,” you said, holding your notebook close to your chest. 

“Yes…I know about trees,” he smiled.

“Like the Lorax,” you blurted out, feeling your eyes widen. You could almost hear the look of disappointment on Bonnie’s face. The man chuckled, though, albeit with little confusion. 

“I’m Elijah,” he said, shaking Bonnie’s hand and yours. 

“Nordmann, why would I want that?” Bonnie inquired, pivoting to your previous conversation. 

“Nordmanns don’t shed,” Elijah explained. “They have a blue tone underneath their leaves and are also pretty.”

“Very nice,” Bonnie nudged you, and you sent her a look of approval. “Show me a Nordmann.”

Bonnie ended up choosing a six-foot-tall Nordmann that she affectionately named “Norman the Nordmann.” Elijah and one of his brothers cut the tree down for her and carried it back to her car. Frankly, the level of attraction you felt watching a man carrying a tree over his shoulder was embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You just said thank you in a meek voice and left with Bonnie to decorate her tree. Still, you couldn’t get Elijah out of your mind. 

Plus, as you spent time working on your animation final, you realized that one of your characters started to look more and more like Elijah. 

Which is how you kept ending up at the Christmas tree farm. 

You couldn’t just show up and sit around waiting to see Elijah walk by. That would be incredibly humiliating for you. So, instead, after your third time going to the farm and lurking in the trees like a creeper, you decided to buy a wreath. The farm had a tiny little hut selling wreaths, ornaments, hot cocoa, and more. They even had a photo album full of pictures of their customers from over the years. One of the sisters always sat in the hut, reading a new book each day, and finally pointed out that you always came in but never bought anything, which is how you ended up with a beautiful wreath you hung up in your apartment. Feeling guilty, you came back the next day and bought another wreath. You always bought a wreath and free hot cocoa after you finished sketching the farm (and Elijah). You realized at some point you should probably buy a tree and move on from your infatuation, but that would involve confronting your wiles, which would simply be unacceptable. 

Today was week three, thirteen wreaths later. You curled up in the corner of the farm with your journal, burrowing into your scarf to fight off the chill. You already had several panels drawn of the day in and day out of the farm, but now you were debating tearing yourself away and drawing Freya (your hot cocoa provider and sister who reads inside the wreath hut) through the acts of reading. Something blocked your light though, as you were drawing, and you looked up to see Elijah hovering over you. Your eyes widened. 

“You have come in every day, you realize that?” he asked, hands in his pockets and a slight smirk on his lips. You likely looked like a deer in the headlights. 

“I like trees,” you answered, immediately looking down at your hands as your brain screamed WHAT ARE YOU DOING? 

“Like the Lorax?” Elijah smirked, and you felt your jaw drop as he recalled your first day. 

“I can go,” you said, starting to get up, but Elijah put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. The heat from his hand spread throughout your arm like fire to a forest. 

“You don’t have to leave,” he dropped his hand, fiddling with the cuffs of his flannel. “I just noticed that you have never gotten a tree.”

“I haven’t.”

“Do you want one?” He gestured towards the plethora of Christmas trees around you, and you started feeling like a mouse cornered by a cat. A very attractive cat. 

“I could…get a tree,” you crossed your arms, hugging yourself. Putting your journal back in your bag, you gave Elijah your name and followed him deeper into the tree line. He showed you several different variants, explaining their pros and cons, but you stopped at a four-foot Noble that was more sparse on one side and slightly crooked. “I like him.”

Elijah looked at the tree you were pointing at and raised an eyebrow as if to ask seriously? You had a small smile as you circled your crooked, kind of terrible, tree. It was imperfect, and it’s why you liked it. Elijah sighed but agreed to give you the tree. He cut it down himself (it was small enough), and you checked out with Freya, who laughed at you finally buying a tree. 

“Where’s your car?” Elijah asked, tree propped up against him. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t have one,” you stammered. You realize you can’t get a tree home without a car. “I walked.”

“You walked,” Elijah said plainly. You were thinking that he probably thought you were an idiot. 

“I live four blocks away.”

“Alright… let's go,” Elijah sighed, hoisting the tree over his shoulder. 

“Uh, excuse me?” You held out your hands to stop him. 

“To take your tree home.”

“I can take my own tree home, thank you very much.” Elijah stared at you with a blank expression. He would’ve made an excellent diplomat if he wasn’t busy cutting down trees. You stared right back, trying your best to assert dominance. His eyes stared into yours deeply, and finally you relented. “Fine, you can take my tree home,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated as a smile broke across his face. 

“Lead the way,” he gestured. You stalk a guy for weeks, and now he’s coming to your apartment with a tree you didn’t intend to buy. You thought that Bonnie would’ve gotten a kick out of this. He follows you out of the lot and onto the street, keeping quiet as he carries the tree with no complaints. You wonder how much he could bench press if he lifted the tree like it was nothing. You got to your building, a little four-story brick apartment, and let him in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the plethora of wreaths lining the doors in the hall. “Are these all…?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “I’m the building manager, so I gave everyone a wreath.” Elijah still looked surprised but didn’t say anything else as he followed you to your apartment door tucked into the corner of the first floor. You wiggled your lock before slamming your shoulder into the door to open it. “It gets stuck sometimes,” you explained, opening the door further for Elijah to enter. 

With Elijah peering around your place, you suddenly felt very self-conscious. It was a small place. The layout was straightforward. Your front door opened into your small kitchen, with the bathroom to the right. Your living room was just a couch, a TV you got from your aunt, and a coffee table. You didn’t have a dining room, just a tiny breakfast nook you haggled off Facebook Marketplace. Your bedroom was off the living room, just a bed and a desk. The thing that sold you on the apartment, though was the beautiful circular window behind the couch and the fact you got cheap rent in a city as long as you acted as building manager. 

“Where would you like to put your tree?” Elijah inquired. 

“I guess over here is fine,” you walked over to the space between the wall and your couch, currently inhabited by your basket of yarn that you use for knit projects. 

“Do you have a tree stand?” He put the tree down against the wall. You kept your mouth shut as you watched realization flash across his face. “You bought a tree without a tree stand?”

“I didn’t intend to buy a tree,” you defend yourself. Elijah lets out a small sigh of exasperation, fidgeting with the tree so it can lean on its own. 

“I’ll be right back,” Elijah exits before you can say anything. You glare at the tree, internally blaming it for your current predicament. Keeping busy, you started a pot of coffee in your kitchen while you hunted around for something to decorate the tree with. You came back with a basket of crochet stars and some twine. Maybe you could make a garland and then harass Bonnie for some twinkle lights. You know she had them; she covered her entire place in them like it was Tinkerbell’s house. As you were stringing stars onto your twine, you heard a knock on your door before Elijah entered, box in hand. “Alright, I got you a tree stand, and Freya sent me with ornaments.”

“She’s a good egg,” you smiled, helping him with the box as he started fitting the tree into the stand. 

“That she is,” he laughed, sending you a grin that made your stomach perform cartwheels. You laid out the ornaments Freya sent on your counter, smiling at the cute little animals. She even sent along a glitter-covered mushroom. Your coffee machine dinged, and you moved to pour yourself a cup. 

“Do you want coffee? I got vanilla syrup,” you offered, holding up a reindeer mug. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Elijah smiled. You made him a small latte, as you enjoyed any chance to perfect your latte art. You went to a Korean cafe once and watched them craft a bear, and since then have forced yourself to learn how to do the same. You added a little heart, and handed the latte to Elijah who looked at it fondly. “You’re very creative.” He looked at the star garland you had discarded from earlier. “Did you make this?”

“Yeah…it’s the only decor I have,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee and enjoying the warmth seeping into your bones. Elijah picked up the garland and started wrapping it around the tree, making sure each branch was evenly spaced and that the stars were visible. 

“Do all customers get you decorating their tree?” you asked, the corner of your mouth lifting up in a smile. 

“Just the ones I like,” Elijah responded, his back still towards you. You felt your cheeks flush at his comment. He was likely just flattering you. He stepped away from the tree when he was done, and your eyes lit up as you took in his careful work. 

“Well, thank you,” you coughed, putting your coffee down on the counter and shuffling on your feet. You expected Elijah to make a move to leave, but he stayed there, staring at you with thoughtful eyes. He really had very kind eyes, the type you felt at ease under. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Elijah’s brows furrowed, his fingers dancing over the buttons of his cuffs as he looked at you inquisitively. You nodded to let him continue. “Why did you come to the farm everyday?”

“Honestly?” you laughed, glancing away. “I liked to draw you.”

“Draw me?”

“Yeah…it’s silly, isn’t it?” you rubbed the back of your neck, your arms wrapping around to curl more into yourself. 

“May I see?”

“See what?”

“The drawings,” Elijah dared a step closer to you. He smelled like the trees he cultivated, rich and earthy. You felt that if someone were to be personified as a rainy forest, he would be that person. You walked over to your bag, nervously pulling out your sketchbook and handing it to him. His fingers brushed yours, but you quickly pulled away. You hated people looking at your work, so you kept yourself busy by cleaning up the kitchen. You could hear the flipping of the pages, and with each turn the coil in your stomach grew tighter. You were so nervous, you felt like you could break at any moment. What if he hated the drawings? You could never recover. When you heard the thud of the book closing, you dared turning towards Elijah and felt your heart clench as you met his gaze. 

“My brother would hate you,” Elijah said, putting your sketchbook carefully on the kitchen counter. “You’re a much better artist than him.”

“Oh,” you responded, some pressure alleviating in your chest. 

“You captured me very kindly,” Elijah smiled, stepping around the kitchen island to get closer to you. You instinctively took a step back. 

“I see you very kindly,” you whispered, your voice soft on his ears. “It was for a class animation, I…hope I didn’t offend you.”

“You couldn’t offend me,” Elijah reassured. “You make me feel appreciated.”

“Are you not?” 

“A family as large as mine,” Elijah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s easy to lose sight of things.”

“Well, I see you…if that matters,” you said. Your heart was running a race with how fast it was beating. Elijah grabbed your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles like you were a precious artifact. 

“Y/N,” Elijah started, biting his lip in thought. “I’m glad that you kept coming back.” You noticed that his fingers were calloused and rough, likely from all the work of the farm. “I would like to take you out, if that’s alright.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “I would like that a lot.” Elijah tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before glancing back at your sketchbook. 

“May I see the animation, when its done?”

“Of course.”

“Can I give you something?” Elijah questioned, turning back to look at you. You nodded slowly, unsure of what he was thinking. Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. His hands came up to cup your head, his fingers brushing through the strands of your hair. He was gentle, but firm, and you found yourself tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Kissing him felt like first snowfall, or when you learned you had a day off from school. He pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and the top of your head. 

“That was a good gift,” you whispered, enjoying the deep chuckle that emanated from Elijah. “Does this mean I can stop buying Christmas wreaths?” That earned an even bigger laugh. 

“You really are an enigma,” Elijah smiled, kissing you again on your lips. 

Oh yes, you guess there is a very good reason to go to a Christmas Tree Farm every day

[sweetkpopmusings]

long for you (act three) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: and just like that, i present to you the last installment of long for you ! i hope you enjoy the ending (i promise it's a happy one) <3 thank you so much for reading this fic :,-) pics not mine <3

♡ find all parts here ♡

content: fluff, romance, fake dating, angst, a happy ending | wc: 4.2k | warnings: none really! | pairing: nonbinary!painter!hyunjin x gn!writer!reader | requests: open

synopsis: y/n is a writer with a long-awaited, well-deserved career opportunity. despite the excitement, there’s one major problem: the publisher expects a modern love story, equally romcom-like and authentic, but y/n lacks the inspiration to write something worth reading. through a chance meeting with mutual friends, y/n and hyunjin bond over upcoming deadlines and creative blocks. before the conversation ends, they discover that the ridiculous plot of fake dating might just work to solve their inspirational dry spell.

act three: here, with you

jeongin, running back and forth from one corner of the exhibition to another, barely registers the door opening. it isn’t until he hears seungmin’s classic, hey! yang jeongin! that he breaks away from the artwork surrounding him.

“care to tell me why you’re interrupting my very important work?”

seungmin shrugs, “you have five days until opening night. there’s plenty of time. besides,” seungmin flashes his friend a golden retriever grin, “you can always make time for your favorite person in the world!”

“i…i don’t even know where to begin with unpacking that.”

“then don’t,” seungmin sets his bag down on a table near the entrance, pulls out a large stack of papers, and strides towards jeongin, “i wanted to lend you this.”

jeongin’s brow furrows, trying to make sense of whatever seungmin dropped on the worktable in front of him, “what’s here, with you and what does it have to do with me?”

“it has nothing to do with you,” seungmin laughs, “but when i was reading through it, it reminded me of your friend hyunjin and their relationship drama, which, given how much you’ve told me, i’m quite invested in.”

the gears turn in jeongin’s head as he thumbs through the manuscript in front of him. seungmin waits somewhat patiently, reminding himself that jeongin’s brain is probably too preoccupied with the art show logistics to make the connection in a timely manner.

“how would this even…oh wait, is y/n your new writer?!” 

though jeongin’s jaw has dropped from shock, seungmin calmly nods, “yeah, and this is probably illegal, so only share it with hyunjin. i don’t care too much about them reading it because i think they could…benefit from the novel’s perspective. plus, i want to know the resultant ‘tea,’ as it were.”

“how is it that none of my friends can use slang without sounding like the elderly?” jeongin sighs, putting his hand on the title page, “but understood. i’ll guard it with my life and tell hyunjin that their access must remain top-secret. do you want us to shred it after he’s finished reading it?”

seungmin shoots jeongin a why is that the first thing you thought of? look and replies, “just text me and i’ll come pick it up.”

“oh, yeah, that makes sense. well, thanks!”

“yeah, yeah,” seungmin goes to collect his bag at the front, “be sure to let me know what happens after. i’ll see you later!”

jeongin waves to his friend and pulls out his phone to text hyunjin. typically he doesn’t like to meddle in his friends’ business, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling inside him at the thought of this book changing the course of hyunjin’s relationship with you. not to mention the bragging rights he’d have if he played a part in you two getting back together.

jeongin returns his focus to the gallery setup, keeping an ear out for the door this time, so as not to miss hyunjin’s fateful arrival.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

every time hyunjin comes back to their apartment, his eyes land on the manuscript, which sits unassumingly on the coffee table. given that meticulously selected art books are displayed on the coffee table, if one wasn’t looking for the manuscript specifically, it would remain unnoticed, merely an afterthought. 

hyunjin is always looking for the manuscript, though. try as they might to ignore it, they unconsciously glance at it every time it’s near, ensuring that it hasn’t been lost. ensuring that it’s still there, waiting for him. 

jeongin wouldn’t have passed it along if it were going to hurt him, right? hyunjin can’t think of any real reason not to read it. they don’t care about any publishing rules, and they’re not worried about jeongin telling anyone else about it. and yet, hyunjin can’t get past the title page. they long to know what truths are hidden in that stack of pages, but they fear that they’ll be hanging on to every word, unable to return to a world that isn’t filled with you. then, thoughts of his mistake swarm his mind, leaving hyunjin spiraling into regret, self-criticism, and anxiety. who knew it would be so difficult to read a book written by someone you admire?

hyunjin counts down the days to the exhibition’s opening night. they haven’t asked whether you’ll be there. jeongin could know from the rsvp list, or changbin could know through felix. he wonders if you’ll show up. he understands why you wouldn’t; hyunjin of all people could understand why you wouldn’t want to be there at all, especially on opening night. sure, they would be heartbroken–even more than they already are–if they didn’t see your face in the crowd. again, though, they can’t blame you for your absence, if that’s what you choose. plain and simple, hyunjin just misses you. they’re not sure if they have the right to reach back out to you, but he plays out scenarios in his head of what could happen at the gallery, if only you walked through the door.

“hyunjin!” changbin chirps on the phone as soon as hyunjin accepts the call, “are you excited for tomorrow?”

hyunjin smiles, “yeah, it’ll be great.”

“great doesn’t even begin to describe it! it’s only an exhibition featuring work by the most talented, most gorgeous artist in the city!”

they laugh at changbin’s enthusiasm, a slight pang in their chest emerging when they think of how you’d roll your eyes at his friend’s endless flirting, “as always, thank you for your undying support.”

“of course! now, i actually wasn’t just calling because i missed your voice. we–me, jeongin, and minho–were thinking it’d be fun to go out for a late dinner after the grand opening. you in?”

“i don’t know…” hyunjin sighs, “i’m not sure if i’ll feel up to it afterward.”

“no worries!” changbin’s smile is audible, “you can let us know tomorrow night what you feel up to. we can always celebrate you on a different day!”

“sounds great, thank you,” hyunjin replies with as much excitement as they can muster.

“well my dear, sweet, beautiful, charming, brilliant artist friend, i should let you go. i’m sure you’ve got a whole lot of prep left, and you need to get your beauty sleep! i’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“you can count on it. thanks changbin.”

“any time. i love you!”

hyunjin laughs at changbin’s extra sweet tone for i love you and his subsequent giggles, “love you too.”

changbin squeals, which prompts hyunjin to hang up before their eardrums are irrevocably damaged. 

after the phone call, hyunjin wanders around their apartment, jumping from task to task in order to take their mind off the next night’s possibilities. soon, but not soon enough, it is a reasonable time for them to go to bed. he finishes his nighttime routine, hoping slumber will come as soon as he is under the covers. unfortunately, as luck would have it, the hours pass while hyunjin lies awake, thinking of you.

they groan and climb out of bed, walking to the kitchen to make some tea. once again, even in the dark, their eyes find the manuscript. this time, however, they think if i can’t get them out of my head, i might as well read it, regardless of how much more i’ll miss them after.

with a sigh, hyunjin sinks into their couch and pulls the manuscript into their lap. they stare at the title page, saddened by the fact your name isn’t beneath the title. when they get the courage to read the first line, they smile. your voice comes through with each word, and it’s as though you’re having a conversation in his living room. hyunjin finds comfort in this, even if you’re not here with him.

after a couple of chapters, it’s apparent why jeongin gave hyunjin the manuscript. while the characters don’t follow the exact same plot as you two, their dynamic is all too familiar. the story grips hyunjin, and he craves everything it has to offer, soaking up every detail as though their life depends on it. 

much to hyunjin’s surprise, dawn is breaking when they start the last chapter. perhaps it’d be more responsible to sleep, but hyunjin can’t fathom putting your book down. if he gets the chance to look you in the eyes again, he thinks it’s only fair to do so when he can confidently express how beautiful your story is. so they charge on, desperate to know what the end is for these lovers.

as soon as hyunjin flips the last page over, they sit back into the couch cushions and take a deep breath. hyunjin smiles, proudly thinking i can’t believe they managed to make something so perfect out of something so…human. a yawn cuts the early morning stillness, so hyunjin returns his empty mug to the kitchen and shuffles into bed. spending the night with your voice, your written presence, relieves his body of all the stress it was carrying. the second his eyelids flutter shut, he slips into a peaceful slumber.

the peace is broken hours later when his alarm chimes, more aggressively than they would prefer. hyunjin checks the time, bolting out of bed when they realize they have slept through at least 30 minutes of snoozed alarms. 

frantically, they text jeongin about their potential delayed arrival, stumbling their way to the closet. hyunjin has never been more relieved by the fact that he picked out his outfit the day before.

by some miracle, hyunjin is dressed and made up with two minutes to spare. they rush to the front door, struggling to put their boots on while they simultaneously gather everything into their bag.

“oh, wait!” they exclaim to the empty apartment, kicking off their shoes.

hyunjin runs to the coffee table, flips to a page in the manuscript, snaps a picture, and hurries back toward the apartment’s entryway. in a flash, they are out the door, confident they now have everything they need to get through whatever tonight has in store.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

felix grins as he hands you a drink, “here you go!”

“thank you!” you grin back, unable to resist his cheeriness and the joy of free refreshments.

“can you believe how many people there are here?”

you follow felix’s gaze as it rakes over the crowd. you know jeongin’s gallery isn’t small by any means, but you’re still surprised this many people can fit here without breaking any fire codes. 

“i guess i can. hyunjin’s pretty well-known.”

he nods, not unaware of the way your smile falters when you say their name. 

felix lets a few beats pass, so as not to make his conversational distraction too obvious, “so, you were telling me about how you ran into chan the other day?”

“yeah,” your smile returns, “he was in town interviewing for a new job. i called him afterward, and it looks like he’s getting the offer. if it comes through, he’ll be moving here.”

“wow! that’s a bit of a plot twist,” felix chuckles, “how do you feel about him moving back here?”

“good. it’d be nice to reconnect with him after being apart for so long. while we had our obvious reasons for keeping a distance, both of us admitted that we missed being in each other’s lives. chan even said,” you bite your lip, preparing yourself for felix’s reaction, “he wants to give us another chance if he moves here.”

your friend’s jaw drops, and you can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips when you see how wide his eyes have gotten. 

“whoa! now that’s a plot twist!”

you laugh again, and felix continues, “do you want to get back together with him?”

you take a sip of your drink, pausing to find the right words, “i’ve been thinking about it a lot since he brought it up. nothing’s certain yet because he doesn’t know whether he’ll be moving here anyway. but i can’t deny that the prospect of being with chan again is appealing. i’ll always love him, and we’ve grown up now, so things could be different. of course, i realize that it’s not enough to build a relationship solely on good memories and lost potential. i guess what i’m trying to say is that–”

“hi everyone!” jeongin lightly shouts to get the attention of the crowd, “thank you all so much for coming here tonight. i always appreciate people taking the time, though i’m sure you’re here for the free food as much as you’re here for the art.”

the crowd laughs, and felix leans over to you, “tell me the rest of the chan stuff later?”

“you know it,” you whisper back, quick to turn your attention back to where jeongin stands.

“it is no secret that tonight’s artist is a friend of mine. i’ve been championing their work for years, but i have to say this collection is one of their best. while the paintings speak for themselves, please welcome hwang hyunjin for a few words on their newest series, long for you!”

you clap with the rest of the gallery visitors, trying to ignore the shaking in your hands. the nerves aren’t surprising, but they still overwhelm you. your heart pounds, unsure where he’ll appear from. it must’ve only been five seconds, but it feels as though an eternity has passed between jeongin saying his name and hyunjin stepping in front of the crowd, beautiful as ever.

you shuffle slightly behind felix, hoping this will decrease the possibility of you and hyunjin making eye contact. thankfully, it works, as hyunjin begins their speech without any sign he has noticed your presence. the second their voice spreads throughout the silent gallery, you are mesmerized, praying your face won’t give you and your lingering feelings away.

“thank you, jeongin, for the introduction and the opportunity to showcase my work,” hyunjin nods toward their friend, “this series is very special to me for a couple of reasons. when jeongin asked me to create work inspired by ‘yearning,’ i was completely at a loss. i don’t think i’ve ever experienced such a lack of inspiration before. it felt impossible, like i was staring down the first failure in my artistic career. i actually was about to back out of the agreement, but, by a stroke of luck, maybe even fate, i met someone that changed everything.”

breath hitching in your throat, you grasp onto your drink with both of your trembling hands. felix glances at you, and you nod, signaling that you’re okay. for now, at least.

“they taught me so much about art and about love,” hyunjin pauses, searching the crowd until, much to their surprise and relief, their eyes land on you, “and, after making a foolish and immature mistake, their absence taught me hard lessons about yearning. these pieces are as much about the desire you feel towards someone special as they are about the ache you feel when that person is gone. i cherish each painting because i cherish the subject, the person portrayed here, the most. in making this series, i realized that yearning is quite a selfish thing when you’re the one that created the distance in the first place. believe me when i say that i have never yearned more, nor felt more sorry, in my life.”

hyunjin’s words hang in the air, and, try as you might to keep your composure, you cannot tear your eyes from theirs. though they are across the room, the way his eyes are locked with yours yields the kind of intimacy you feel only when you are inches away from your lover. heart pounding, throat closing, eyes glistening, you hold hyunjin’s gaze because you don’t know what else to do. then, just as you feel you are being completely unraveled, they look away from you and toward the rest of the crowd.

“thank you all for bearing witness to this part of my heart. before i send you on your way to examine my latest creations, i would like to leave you with a quote from my favorite writer,” hyunjin inhales slowly, deliberately forming each word with the utmost care, “in an upcoming work, they write, ‘after all that had happened to us, and in spite of whatever would come, the center of everything was this: i have longed for you since the moment i met you; therefore, i will always love you,’” hyunjin pauses again to ensure the crowd absorbs every precious word, “i hope you all find the one you long for most, and i hope you never let them go. thank you.”

with a small bow, hyunjin ends their speech and steps away from the center of the room to the sound of applause. 

“whoa, that last part sounded like something you would write. that’s crazy!” felix faces you, shocked smile faltering when he sees your frozen state.

“yeah…” you attempt to smile when you nod in agreement, “actually, i wrote that.”

felix’s jaw drops, “oh, wow. wow. that was beautiful! you really are a force to be reckoned with. those words cut straight to the heart, y/n.”

“thank you,” your voice comes out barely as a whisper, “i’m going to get some fresh air.”

understanding your body language, felix asks, “do you want some company?”

“no, it’s okay. i’ll be right back. you stay and enjoy the art!”

felix smiles at you reassuringly, promising to be right where you left him whenever you return. much to your chagrin, in your efforts to sneak out of the gallery, you pass by hyunjin talking with a group of people. you desperately hope that he did not see you as you push through the gallery doors and step out into the fresh night.

before you can take enough deep breaths to untangle your twisted stomach, you hear footsteps behind you.

“are you okay?”

hyunjin’s voice floats through the air and envelops you. despite the anxiety and exhilaration coursing through your body at their proximity, the sound of hyunjin’s voice still manages to relax you. 

“yeah, i’m fine,” you lie, “don’t worry about me. it looked like you were in the middle of an important conversation, so you should go back before they miss you.”

hyunjin shrugs, stepping closer to you, “they’re not the ones i care about.”

“oh, i see.”

you wish you could kick yourself for such a lackluster reply, but you settle for looking away from hyunjin. there are few cars on the street, making it difficult for you to pretend you’re paying attention to anything other than the person beside you.

“i’m really sorry if it was inappropriate for me to quote you at the end of my speech without giving you credit. i was able to read your manuscript–i swear i got it through official channels–and it was so captivating and touching that i thought i could pay homage to you by mentioning it. i wasn’t thinking about the implications though, so i’m sorry.”

against your better judgment, you glance at them and smile softly, reassuringly, “no, it’s fine. i mean, it probably is a violation of confidentiality, but that’s not…i’m not upset because of that.”

“oh, so it’s the other selfish thing i did then? i do owe you an apology for that. a real one, not just one i say in a room full of other people.”

you chuckle at their delivery, unable to resist their charm. thankfully, they don’t leave you with the responsibility of responding.

“from the bottom of my heart and with everything i have, i am so sorry. i was an idiot. i…i got scared because i wanted our fake dating to turn into real dating. i didn’t know what i was doing, so i ran away. i ended our relationship because i couldn’t, wouldn’t find the courage to ask you for what i truly wanted. i hurt you, and that’s the worst thing i could have done. i’m sorry,” they pause, hoping their rambling doesn’t dilute their message, “and i don’t expect you to forgive me. i just…i owe it to you to be honest. you deserved better than what i did.”

hyunjin stares at you, kind smile coupled with a serious, tender look in their eyes. you’re stunned at how genuine their apology is, how generous they are with their true feelings. for the first time in weeks, your heart doesn’t feel so heavy.

“you ended things because you wanted…more?”

though your voice is soft, hyunjin hears you with complete clarity, “yes. in truth, i fell for you, y/n,” hyunjin chuckles, “i guess i took the fake dating trope and turned it into a fake dating to lovers storyline.”

you grin, “i can’t say i’m surprised that you’d commit that much to the bit. you’ve certainly got the romantic tendencies of an artist.”

you join their laughter this time, waves of relief washing over you. even after everything, the cold night transforms into something much more comforting when hyunjin is here with you.

“though i don’t deserve it, i would like to be with you. i want to be your partner again, but a real one, if you’d let me.”

“hyunjin…” you face them fully, absorbing the tenderness of the moment, feeling your stomach fill with butterflies and your heart fill with longing.

all the questions, uncertainties, and anxieties that have filled your days since hyunjin walked out of that restaurant come back to you. at the same time, all the hopes you had when you were getting to know hyunjin hit you full force. though you were working to be okay with a future that didn’t include hyunjin, you can’t deny that there remains a part of you that wants everything you had with them. those two months filled with hyunjin felt so right. it wasn’t just the fact that they inspired you and played an instrumental role in the completion of your first novel. no, it was just as jisung had pointed out: hyunjin changed your outlook on love, for the better, by being the kind of person you could love and be loved by. 

“it’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” hyunjin smiles, “you deserve to know that someone out there feels this way about you. you deserve to know that you touched me profoundly, and i’m forever changed for the better because i met you.”

tears prick the corners of your eyes, feeling pure happiness for the first time in weeks, “i feel the same. i…” 

you sigh, at a loss for the right words that could capture everything you’re thinking. they don’t pressure you into responding quickly, but, not wanting to leave them in suspense, you settle for the simplest expression of your heart.

“i want to be with you too, hyunjin. if you’d let me, of course.”

you swear you’ve never seen someone smile so brightly before. instinctively, you reflect their joy, savoring the moment that rewrote your story from one of heartbreak to one of hope. this, you think, is the kind of thing you wouldn’t have thought was realistic before you met hyunjin.

“you know, i was almost late for the show tonight,” hyunjin chuckles, a little sheepishly, “i overslept and had to rush out of my apartment to get here in time. normally i would never dream of getting ready so quickly, but i managed to make it here with a few minutes to spare. even jeongin was surprised.”

hyunjin laughs, and you tease, “i’m surprised too. it’s pretty out of character for you to rush to do anything,” you giggle at hyunjin’s pout, “what was so different this time?”

though your tone was playful, hyunjin looks at you sweetly and replies in a voice full of sincerity.

“i guess,” they reach out and intertwine your hands, “deep down i knew i was rushing my way back to you.”

oh.

you smile down at your hands, flushing pink from the warmth of hyunjin’s touch. you feel their eyes on you, but you take your time before meeting their gaze again, wanting to convince yourself that this moment is, in fact, real.

“i guess i need to call chan and tell him that i just want to be friends.”

“wait!” hyunjin frowns, “who’s chan?”

you laugh at their childish expression, endeared as always by his flair for the dramatic, “don’t worry. changbin flirts with you waaaaaay more than chan ever would with me.”

hyunjin cackles at this, jealousy subsiding into pure joy at the fact that you’re choosing him over someone, anyone else. they too have to convince themself that this dream has really come true.

hyunjin points their head toward the door, “shall we go back inside?”

you nod, “i’m sure people are wondering where the guest of honor is hiding.”

hyunjin laughs, leading you back towards the gallery full of art enthusiasts and paintings apparently inspired by you, “i think it’s time i introduce everybody to my muse.”

you smile, falling into step beside hyunjin without a second thought. as you two leave the cold night and weeks of longing for one another behind you, you think that maybe, just maybe, it’s not only fictional lovers that get the happy endings they deserve. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tag list: @velvetmoonlght @tirena1 (<333 tysm)

[tartigglez]

"do this again...?"

zhongli x gn!reader

・❥・fluff fluff!

・❥・1.5k

・❥・helloooo i'm suffering an ungodly writers block rn so im really sorry if this is a MESS, i really don't mean for it to be sigh.. also inspired by that art where zhongli is fangirling over baizhus hair and going "so soft!" and then starts scrubbing his own head with a bar of soap (i can't find the link but if someone finds it lmk)

・❥・momentary dragon zhong!! modern au, readers a bit cuddly at the start lol, might not be suitable for all readers bc reader is a haircare nerd!! reader swears (this is a general warning for all my fics atp), i think thats it?? lmk??

zhongli was always put together, well presented, clean shaven, and always smelled of mahogany and vanilla, in fact, these were some of his most admirable traits. however, there was one thing that always puzzled you a little. 

when he was in his dragon form, zhonglis hair was always soft and silky, and looked perfectly healthy. but of course, nowadays it is rare for him to be in this form, and so he usually stays in mortal form for long periods of time in order to blend in with the general population of liyue. when in this form however, zhonglis hair is brittle and dry, seemingly with little to no explanation as to why. 

“zhongli,” you whisper against the fabric of a hoodie you insisted he buy (which he rejected initially. if it were up to him you would both be dressed in formal attire at almost all times of the day) “what’s up with your hair?”

“whatever do you mean?” he asks, large palm slowly rubbing the small of your back. he tilts his chin down to look at you as you rest your eyes, laying on his chest and fiddling with the ends of his ponytail.

“don’t you think its a little frizzy?” you ponder, moving your hand from his hair to instead grip on to his hoodie, fingers interlacing with the soft fabric as you sit up a little to meet his eyes. he would never admit to it, but watching you grip on to his clothing, looking all cozy was making the article grow on him, plus he knew you were a little sleepy, given you had gotten home and immediately insisted he cuddle with you. 

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he laughs, moving to a straighter sitting position, and allowing you to adjust by placing your legs either side of his, stretching them out behind him and tucking your head in to the gap between his shoulder and neck. 

“m’no, just an observation” you mumble against him. "it's always so healthy n-" you yawn mid-sentence, heaving your arms up around his neck, playing with the few stray hairs that sit at the back of his neck. "it's always helfy when y'do the thing… with the horns and the tail- n'stuff" you smack your lips a little every few words, eyelashes fluttering against the small portion of his collarbone which is exposed from under his hoodie. 

"you're tired dear, you should sleep" he says gently, palms still rubbing up and down your back. 

"buh if I sleep you'll-" you yawn again, unsurprisingly "you'll go n'do work or somethin'" 

"who told you that, hm? I've done all my work for the day. I'm more than content to lay here with you," he whispers "besides, I'm intrigued to hear more of your sleepy opinions on my appearance"

“don’t have any opinions, only facts,” you giggle, placing a soft kiss on his skin before putting your cheek down against it, closing your eyes. “trust, i’ll get to the bottom of this t’morrow” you smile and yawn another time.  

“fine, although i don’t think there's any problem with my haircare methods. rest well dear” he says, hands stilling on your back as the room falls to a desolate silence, only the sound of his breathing lulling you to rest. 

brightness is normally a positive thing, but not when it's hitting your eyes so early in the morning, and the bed is so empty. shouldn’t zhongli be here? you yawn, opening your eyes a little more to see the whole room, and no zhongli in sight. however, your ears quickly hear it, quiet liyuean opera music coming from somewhere downstairs. he has already started his day. 

you slowly, but surely make your way downstairs, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. you stumble upon zhongli in the living room, a computer on the coffee table in front of him, shirt sleeves rolled up and the muscles of his arms flexing as he types furiously, a puzzled expression lacing his features. 

“you’re awake, darling. did you sleep okay?” he asks, eyes parting with the laptop to meet yours.

“like a baby” you giggle as you take small steps over to him, tiredly flopping on the couch beside him, hugging one of his arms and looking up at him. “whatcha lookin at?” you ask, closing your eyes and taking in his scent, and the environment around you, the twang of the guzheng and soft air of flutes coming through the speaker in the corner of the room, and the feeling of his arm moving slowly from your grip, instead snaking its way around your shoulders 

“haircare methods,” he sighs, “i think i’ve realised the error of my ways”

“and that is…?” you raise an eyebrow at him, and he ultimately just looks embarrassed, cheeks flaring a slight shade of pink. 

“well, it would seem that the soap i use is rather abrasive” he sighs, leaning back in the chair and opening up a tab on his browser to reveal a branded bar of soap. soap. not shampoo, not conditioner, but soap. 

“soap?!” you ask, face contorting as if you had just had the shock of a lifetime. he nods sheepishly as you stare at him, moving up from your seat to get on your feet, grabbing his hands to drag him with you. 

“come”

“where are we going?” he asks, smiling a little as if to be doting upon your sudden investment in his hair.

“bathroom” you say, dragging him up the stairs, feet thumping as you march up the stairs. 

“what are we doing?” he inquires, following you into the bathroom, chuckling at you.

"reciting an extensive apology to your fucking hair follicles" you stare at him, face dead serious. your entire body is turned in the other direction, pulling out a wicker basket full of all your haircare products. 

"language" he reprimands, folding his arms and taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

"fuck fuck, shit fuck" you giggle, trying your hardest to invoke a reaction as you pull out different conditioning products from the basket. he just sighs. if it's you, such profanities can be excused in private, he supposes.

"don't be rude" he says, but he's secretly holding a laugh, watching you pull out some sort of deep conditioning pack, then squishing the liquid around in the packet.

"i'll be rude if i so wish" you taunt, sticking your tongue out before bursting out in laughter. "okay, sit on the floor" you say, setting the conditioning pack on the edge of the bath.

"excuse me?" he questions, standing up beside you, suddenly seeming a little taller than you remember. 

"you heard me, head over the edge of the tub, chop chop" 

"what on earth…?" he questions, kneeling with his head hanging fair over the bathtub.

"trust the process" you say, grabbing a towel from the rail on the other side of the room, putting it over his shoulders. you gently pull his hair tie out, watching the brown locks fall on to the towel.

"is this necessary?" he whines, tensing up a little when you move his hair off the towel, so that it went straight down in to the tub. 

"yes," you answer flatly, "now close your eyes" you say turning on the shower head. 

"why?" he asks, jumping a little in shock when you run the water over his head.

"too hot?" you ask, soaking his hair from scalp to tip. he shakes his head, and he's audibly breathing a little louder when the water runs down his cheeks. immediately after he feels you dump some sort of thick substance on his head. 

"what on earth is that?" he asks, watching your hands reach to rub the mask down through his hair. 

"conditioning mask" you answer, rinsing your hands under the tap, washing off the excess. “stay here” you instruct. 

“my love, where are you going?” zhongli sighs, but you’ve already ran to the bedroom, grabbing a t-shirt to wrap around his hair.

“okay, lift your head up” you smile, and he awkwardly complies, trying his very best not to get water everywhere as you get his hair together to go inside the tee. he stands on his feet once again, before sitting on the toilet seat, legs awkwardly jutting out in to the room as you clean up any spilled water.

after you finish wiping around the edge of the bath, you look up at him from where you are, and a fountain of giggles spills over somewhere within you. you simply cannot stop laughing at him, meanwhile zhongli is staring at you like a wet dog. frowning, he meets your eyes.

“do we have to do this again?” 

sfw masterlist || taglist: @lioria @celestetalkstoomuch

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost, reblogs appreciated

[iam93percentstardust]

for your kiss prompts, i think ""i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me"" has big Tony energy 💋

Aha! I return! Just like before, this is Part 1 of a 3-part fic combined from the other two prompts in my inbox

Hope you enjoy! <3

~

Steve had almost said no when Natasha set him up on yet another blind date. He’s been on way too many of those things and he’s getting tired of them. It’s not that the people she recommends are bad but none of them have clicked with him like he was hoping for when she’d first suggested the idea. Natasha is a great matchmaker; she’s set up most of the people in their circle of friends. And after years of trying and failing to find a long-term partner, Steve had been willing to take a chance on just about anyone. He’d had high hopes for her suggestions, though; after all, no one else had seen the potential in Sam and Bucky. But none of them had worked out.

When she’d come to him with another date after the last failure, he’d almost turned her down. He’d been planning on turning her down. He’s still not sure how she’d talked him into agreeing to just one more blind date.

But he’s glad that he did because Tony is amazing. He’s funny and smart and a great tipper, which is always a plus in Steve’s book. He listens intently as Steve talks about his art and doesn’t go so over his head when he’s talking about his own work in robotics. They don’t agree on anything but the big things, but somehow, arguing with Tony over his favorite books and movies and hot drinks is more fun than if they liked all of the same things.

He had walked to the restaurant since he lives only a few blocks away. As it turns out, so does Tony, though in the opposite direction, so Steve offers to walk him home because his ma raised a gentleman. Tony looks delighted at the hand that Steve offers him and takes it, shyly confessing that he’s never had a partner who wanted to hold hands in public (Steve would like to hunt down every person who never wanted to be seen in public with him).

When they reach Tony’s apartment—a much nicer building than the one Steve lives in, all gilded Art Deco and bright open spaces—Tony tugs them to a stop just under the awning.

“This was really nice,” he says. “I’d like to do this again.”

“Oh good, me too,” Steve replies around a relieved sigh and then immediately wants to put his face in his hands. That probably sounded too eager, didn’t it? He’s supposed to play it cool, say something like ‘yeah, sure,’ right?

Tony, however, just giggles. “It’s nice not having to worry if you’re playing games,” he says. Oh. That makes things better.

“So I guess we should exchange phone numbers, then?” he asks. It’s been so long since he cared about a second date that he’s forgotten how this is supposed to go.

“Probably,” Tony agrees and waits for Steve to pull out his phone so he can recite his number. Steve texts him a quick This is Steve, so Tony will have his number.

“Guess I should wish you a goodnight, then,” Steve says, kind of wishing that the night never had to end.

“You don’t think you’re forgetting something?” Tony looks very amused.

Steve thinks back over the night. He’s got his wallet, he has Tony’s phone number, they’ve agreed to see each other again. “…No?”

“I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me,” Tony says.

“Oh!” Steve exclaims. “You’d—you’d like that?”

Tony steps in closer to him, running his hands over Steve’s shoulders. “Yeah, big guy, I’d like that a lot.”

Well, Steve can kiss him. That’s totally something he can do. That’s—Tony kisses him first, tasting like strawberry daiquiris and powdered sugar from the dessert they’d shared. Steve’s hands settle on his hips, fingers digging into the probably-expensive fabric of his shirt. His eyes flutter closed, his mind blank, existing in the moment instead of worrying about what happens next.

It comes to an end all too soon. Tony steps back, and Steve’s eyes open again in time to see his soft smile.

“Goodnight, Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony leans in to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, Steve. I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” he agrees, thinking it’ll be the next day before Tony contacts him for another date. But to his surprise, he’s barely gone two feet down the street before his phone buzzes.

He pulls it out and can’t help smiling at the message: Are you free tomorrow?

Alright, so maybe Natasha’s pretty good at this after all.

[changingplumbob]

Knightstone Household: Chapter 9, Part 3

After completing his column before work Adam was taking some time to play his guitar while Silas used his mum’s computer to play arithmetic attack.

Silas: Have you written any songs dad

Adam: Have I? Ah, no, no. You need to be super good to write songs. That's why I like art, anyone can have a go at painting

Silas: What’s 4 times 2

Adam: Son you won’t learn if I tell you

Silas: Can’t you give me a hint

Adam: What’s 4 plus 4

In the bathroom Pollock is making a right mess...

Suzanna: I’m not sure how the puddle ended up quite so far from the potty... the glitches in this game I tell you

Pollock: Mummy I make... pud del

Suzanna: Yeah you did make a puddle! Next time we’ll try get it in the potty though okay

Pollock: I make... not pud del

Suzanna: Don’t worry Moondust, you’ll learn

Pollock toddles over and throws his arms up for a hug. Laughing Suzanna pulls him close.

Suzanna: What should we do now

Pollock: Mummy I... ap... na...

Suzanna: Nap?

Pollock: YES

Suzanna: Okay but kisses first

Suzanna heads out to tend the garden which needs some desperate attention. The trees are mostly okay but...

Suzanna: Stupid plants reverting bug... and actual flying bugs as well... seriously?

There are a lot of bugs to spray and most things need watering. Luckily Suzanna has high enough gardening skill to bust out a weed vaccum though!

After his nap Pollock feels energised and starts searching through the toy box for something to play with. He’s busy with a triceratops when Silas comes to find him having had enough of the computer.

Pollock: SILAS

The toddler rushes over and hugs his brother.

Silas: Did you learn my name huh?

Silas: Do you know your name

Pollock: I... I... Moo du

Silas: Nope *pulls funny face*

Pollock: *giggling*

Silas: You’re Pollock remember? That’s what Daddy calls you

Pollock: I Pol?

Silas: Close enough

The two boys play for a bit, with Pollock showing off some of his favourites, before they move to the lounge. Silas spends some time with his doctor playset and Pollock tries to stack some blocks. When Adam gets back from work he passes them and says hello before heading to the kitchen to make dinner.

Suzanna: Alright, dinner time Moondust

Silas: Mummy you have to call him Pollock or he won’t learn his name

Suzanna: I’m sure that’s not true, Daddy calls him Pollock

Pollock: I Pol

Suzanna: Ah ha, there we go

Silas: Yes but I taught him that

Silas: Will he eat what we eat yet

Suzanna: Soon. Applesauce for now

It soon became apparent that Pollock was now a messy eater. Very messy. Throws food on floor unintentionally messy.

Suzanna: How did that get-

Pollock: Yum yum

Suzanna: *sighs* I suppose you are eating at least

Previous ... Next

[theseawakes]

This Is Me Trying (Doctor Strange x teen!reader)

summary: you received your report cards with bad results and you don't want your dad finding out about it.

warnings: hurt/comfort, bad grades, mint choco (?), strange is a good dad (lmk if I missed anything)

a/n: this is definitely not a self indulgent fic i projected myself onto.

You slammed your door shut before sliding against it, bringing your knees close to your chest. Heaving out your breath, you pull your report cards to your lap after crossing your legs, looking at them with sorrow in your eyes. You're not sure why you're sad and upset when you should've seen it coming the moment your teacher looked down at you with a frown on her face.

"Your grades dropped." You blanked at your teacher's statement, processing the information.

"Oh," you breathed out after a beat.

"Almost falling, hun." A sigh escaped the lady's lips, she clasped her hands in front of her on the desk. "What's gotten into you, Y/N? You were a bright kid. Gifted even. I don't want your potential to go wasted just like that. You could go to one of the best universities –"

The rest of it was blurry. You couldn't focus on your teacher's lecture as your head felt like being in a giant ringing bell. You cautiously re-read the cards in your hand. It was littered with C's, a few B's, and a D. If you could wish for a miracle, you'd wish you could change them before your father sees it. You ran your hands through your hair roughly, dropping the papers as a result.

Being enrolled in a widely known school filled with future geniuses has its perks. Especially when you were a child of two famous surgeons. Expectations were a friend you made inside your mother's womb and they'll follow you until your dying days. Then your dad became the sorcerer supreme, and then the universe was at stake, and then you got blipped, and when you came back your mother was presumed dead. It all happened in a blitz. All of a sudden, you're living in a new era, and people are adjusting. You are adjusting. Yet you never quite remember when does adjusting felt this hard.

You were great. Oh boy, were you great. You were always at the top of your class– at least in the big 3. A good friend and student. The perfect child. Your parents didn't force you into being one, no, it just happened. Since the first time you got first place in your kindergarten and people praised you, you felt the need to keep it up. You were so ahead of the curve that it became a sphere, and now you ended up falling behind your classmates. Focusing was hard, the tests were hard, and you barely even made any friends after going back to school after the blip. Plus, you've been taking mystical arts lessons from your dad. You were too busy trying to clean your rusty wheels.

A gentle knock pushed you out of your thoughts. "Kid, you're in there?" Your father's voice broke in.

"Yeah," you answered. When did your voice become so hoarse? You didn't even notice tears rolling down your cheek, which you quickly wiped before opening your door that reveals Stephen Strange leaning on the doorway. "What's up, dad?"

Stephen furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you okay? Were you… crying? What happened?"

You mentally cursed yourself. He doesn't know about it yet. Your dad asked if you wanted him to come with you to take your report cards, but you denied it and said you'll be fine. Thankfully, he wasn't stubborn like he always was on accompanying you and said he'd go to the store instead and hadn't returned yet when you got to the sanctum.

You shook your head. "Nope, why would I be?"

The former sorcerer supreme peeked through your figure that blocked the door and saw papers on the floor. "Is that your report cards? How was it?"

Before he could go on more, you closed the door behind you. "It's, uh, nothing you should worry about." You offered him a tight smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. I'm fine. So, could you please go somewhere else? I gotta do something."

"You sure you're alright?" Your father asked once again, only having you push him away from your room in response.

"Yeah, yeah, totally."

Anyone could've been fooled by your smile and words, but Stephen was your father, he knew something was wrong with you. So he opens his mouth to speak again. "No, there's something wrong, I know there is. You sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

"I'm sure, dad. A hundred percent sure." You emphasized every word in the last sentence.

"Really? You know you can tell me the truth. Was it your report cards?"

"No, dad, I'm fine! Just go, do you hear me? I don't wanna see you now! Just– just leave me alone… please." You didn't realize you had been screaming until you saw the surprised look on Stephen's face. Retreating to your room, more tears stained your eyes as you left your father frozen in his place.

Pacing in his chamber, the sorcerer's mind traveled to exactly an hour ago when he had a little argument with you. It's no lie that he's worried about you judging by the look on his face. His parental instinct wanted to knock on your door again and make you feel better like any parent would, but he decided to give you space, no matter how worried he was.

After the death of your mother, who won child custody back then, you immediately got swooped under Stephen's wings. It wasn't hard to warm up to him since you already spent time together often before the car accident he had which led him to protect the world. You even met Christie Palmer, your father's lover back then. You went through the grief of losing your mother with him. Though through the grief he did, he no longer loved your mom as much as you do, but you don't blame him for that.

On the other side of his door, there stands you with clammy hands gripping a sheet of paper with your grades written on it. You didn't think it would be a good idea to tell Stephen about your report cards. He, like any other, probably would just be disappointed in you. But you don't like lying to your dad, especially when he's the only person you have left (aside from Wong, whom you had been getting closer to). You couldn't stay mad at him, and you had no right to say things that could hurt him. Mustering up your courage, you brought a hand to knock on the door.

Stephen opened his door right before you knocked on it. "Y/N?" he asked softly.

You pulled your hand back to your side. "Dad," was your reply. Neither of you said anything, just eyes looking fondly into one another's. "I, uh… I'm sorry for yelling at you… and lying to you," you said thoughtfully even though you were holding back tears. Pushing the papers to his hands, you continued, "you were right, it was my report cards. It turns out that I almost failed this semester." You watched Stephen read the paper in his hand, not even changing his expression in the slightest. This made you bite your lip out of habit. "But don't worry! I passed! I just… I wasn't on top of my class, far behind, actually. I know you're disappointed –"

"Who said that I was?" Stephen cuts you.

A sigh escaped your lips. "No one. I thought you would be since anyone else is." That's the truth. You could see that your teacher was disappointed in you, and the look on your classmates' faces just screams disappointment.

"Kid, you could never disappoint me," Stephen exclaimed, a small yet visible smile on his face. "Adapting to a new life isn't an easy task. I know everything seems to go so fast, believe me, I've been there. Yet you're able to survive to this day. Not everyone could, y'know."

You lowered your head, averting your gaze to the floor so that your dad won't see your tears. "I'm trying. All I want is to get my old self back. To be a bright kid again so that I could make you proud."

Stephen frowned when he heard your confession. His large, gentle arms pulled you into a side embrace. You cried silently against his chest, a hand covering your eyes whilst another was around your abdomen. To say Stephen Strange was an affectionate person was something arguable, but there's no denying that he loves his child to bits and won't stop reminding them of it.

"You'll forever make me proud, little star. Don't forget that." A kiss was planted on the crown of your head. "I'm sorry I was being persistent as well before. I should've let you tell me when you're ready."

You rolled your eyes. "You being persistent is something new?"

The sorcerer chuckled shortly. He pats your back as you wipe your tears, smiling alongside him when you break the hug. "Since you know I am persistent. Let's go to our favorite ice cream parlor." Stephen puts an arm around your shoulders and drags you along to the front door.

You narrowed your eyebrows. "Why would you need to be persistent to ask me to go eat an ice cream?"

"Because you, child, are my offspring," said your dad, opening the front door and bowing mockingly. "After you."

Playing along, you bowed back, earning a smile from the man who soon placed his arm around your shoulders again, walking with you instead of dragging you this time. "What flavor shall we get today, my child?"

"I do not possess the knowledge, dear father. What do you think we shall taste today?"

Stephen hummed. "How about mint choco?"

You snorted. "You mean the toothpaste?"

"Hey, it's good!"

"What's good about eating toothpaste?"

"Don't act like you've never eaten toothpaste before."

"Well, it's not like I did it on purpose!"

"Oh, you will."

"What do you mean I will?" Your question was met with a smirk. "Dad, what does it mean?"

"The last one who arrives at the parlor gets to eat toothpaste on purpose!" He quickly says before running through the street.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Wasting no other second, you zoom toward where your dad is headed.

"Enjoying the toothpaste?"

Stephen turned around to see you raising your eyebrows while licking your favorite ice cream. "No thanks to you." He glared at you as you happily took the seat next to him. His nose scrunched when he took another bite of his ice cream. "This thing actually tastes like toothpaste." A sigh of defeat was exhaled by the former sorcerer supreme.

You punched the air in victory. "And the winner goes to… drumroll please," you cued your father who lazily starts to drum on the handrest. "Y/N Strange!"

Your dad ruffled your hair, causing you to protest for ruining it. Stephen couldn't help but smile at one particular memory that flashed through his head. A memory of you two sitting on the same bench, eating the same ice cream from the same parlor years ago. He realized that it has been quite some time since the last time the two of you did something like this. The last time you were just a kid, barely even a teen. When did you start growing up so fast?

"Thank you, dad." Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "For being proud of me, for cheering me up, especially for letting me win."

Your smug smile was being returned with a poke on your stomach. Stephen only laughed when you scooted away from him a bit. Nevertheless, you scooted back after feeling he won't tickle you entirely.

"Anything for my dearest demon child."

[anguishedlurker]

I Just Can't Seem to Run Fast Enough

Hello and welcome to the 2024 EctoImplosion! I got paired with the lovely @vexglitch for this one, and while it's gonna take a bit to get to their beautiful art the whole ride will be :)) very fun :))). The Fic can also be found on Ao3 HERE, but as is my personal Thing I'll post the first chapter under the cut!

Warnings for the whole fic: Mild Gore, Violence, Getting Turned Away, Threat of Dissection, Angst

And now, the fic;

~

"Honestly, what was he even planning?" Sam chuckled, walking with Danny.

"What would he even need with a game shop?" Tucker added, smiling.

"Maybe he was finding himself a plus one sword of-" Danny started. The thermos hissed as Skulker likely banged around the sides, voicing a warning he couldn't follow up on.

"Quiet, you." Danny hummed, lacking venom as he clipped the thermos to his belt.

Tucker rolled his eyes at the display.

"You lost, man! Give it a rest."

The melodramatic tone paired with an over the top flourish prompted a lopsided grin from his invisible spot, though he was sure Tucker knew even as he weaved around the streetlamp blocking his flight path.

Sam tilted her head to where she assumed he was, carefully eyeing empty air slightly behind him.

"Careful though, you never know if he's one day going to find a flaw in that thing." She said softly, too low for the noise to get to Skulker.

Popping back into view, Danny gave a grimace.

He was met with a shrug for the effort, a conversation never had yet already over.

They were all quiet for a few more paces, Danny fading back out before any unseen observers could get a camera as he toyed with the thermos chain.

"Welp." Tucker started, Sam already sighing.

"Don't give me that, I've gotta go home and do homework. Lancer had no mercy today, I swear!"

"Have you considered working during class? We had time." Sam snipped, good humored.

"Hey, I was trying to get my PDA-"

"Nerd shit, got it." Sam cut off, slightly less well humored.

Danny was inclined to agree, the PDA having been a frequent topic the past four days.

"Nerd shit you say! Not so nerdy when I'm the one keeping us on track with my nerd shit, I've noticed! Always-"

"Tuck. Please" Danny huffed.

"Don't think you're off the hook either!" Tucker said, turning to point at the general location of Danny's voice.

"Weren't you going home?" Sam asked, Tucker deflating a little as he remembered that he very much was.

Danny was just glad he didn't have to apologize for, or possibly to, the PDA. Again.

"Yeah, yeah. Homework. Joy. Hopefully tonight’s quiet. You?" He asked, largely talking to Sam.

"Well, while trying to slip under the Fenton's radar sounds fun, I think I'd get busted if I'm not home by eleven. Sooo maybe hiding under your bed for an impromptu sleepover isn't a great idea." Sam said, turned towards Danny.

He flickered into existence exclusively to shrug.

"Suit yourself. You and the dust bunnies would get along great, just saying."

"Ha. No thanks, yours have an alarming tendency to develop free will."

"ONE time Sam-"

"Besides, I don't need to give my parents more reasons to keep an eye on where I'm at."

"Okay, well, you two finish this on your own time." Tucker dismissed, turning at the street corner. Sam passively stared as Danny faded again, prompting Tucker to find the dumbest way he could manage to walk. It quite easily topped the last time this happened.

"How are you doing that with your hips!?" Sam shouted after him. All Tucker did in response was mime tipping a top hat, trying to not look pleased with himself.

"Yyyeah, so, if this is the end then I just need to get him through the portal." Danny sighed, ripping his focus away from Tucker's shenanigans as he rattled the thermos chain for punctuation.

"And leave a poor girl all alone in the dark?" Sam asked flatly, still watching Tucker, who was now trying to moonwalk. Badly

"Yeah. Let me know if you get murdered."Danny grinned, starting to float away at a casual pace.

"Can do, you'll get the message right after I make you find out what death squared is."

The threat had no true venom behind it; Sam could take care of herself against ghosts, whatever human had funny ideas wasn't a real threat. But still...

"Killing me a third time? For shame. Y'know, most people don't even commit one murder!" Danny chidded, flying away the beat afterwards as Sam started shouting to thin air.

She walked into that one! It was such low hanging fruit!

The thermos made an odd noise as he went, and he ignored Skulker's ongoing aneurysm at new information. This wasn't a usable tidbit, just a fact everyone had moved past.

Still, as the rattling went on he elected to shake the thermos and hiss at it, which didn't help.

His hands were tied about the noise; it's not like he could stick his hand into it and squish Skulker for misbehavior.

His house was in view shortly, the Fenton shielding shining in the late evening light as the volts arced in their regular pattern.

Which meant his parents had been doing repairs since he was gone. Goody.

None of this was new though, the whole thing routine now. Pulling his phone from a pocket he quickly texted Jazz, circling to the backdoor entrance as he went.

He could almost hear the promises they'd get the shield to exclude him soon, son, soon from his parents as he considered detransforming already, but wiping the external cameras again would be too suspicious. He was already too close to the house, and invisibility was nice and comfy.

Within a couple of minutes the back door popped open, Jazz already prepared to stick her tongue out at thin air and rip the shield's plug out of the electrical socket.

Lucky them that the cameras weren't pointed to it.

"Real mature." He whispered as he flew through the now inert danger zone, shaking the thermos like a maraca as Skulker made very interesting noises.

"Mature-er than... whatever you're doing to who's in the thermos." She huffed, plugging the shield back in.

Danny didn't grace that with a response, instead phasing through her and giggling as he darted in.

The whole body equivalent of a wet finger in an ear, just for her!

The shouting behind him was minimal, so clearly he hadn't achieved an element of surprise. He would have to do better next time.

He paused just inside, holding the thermos close to his mouth and whispering "You know the drill, can it properly this time."

Skulker was obedient, quiet except for a last huffy shove. This part of the game was not up for debate; to be caught was to become the prey, hand in hand with Danny.

Jazz stormed through like she'd shove him if he was solid and she knew where he was, stopping just inside like he had. The silence hung as she scanned the hall for the invisible.

"Ugh, whatever. They're in the kitchen, and I'm going back upstairs to finish my essay."

"The one due two weeks from now?" He snipped, soliciting her spinning on her heel towards his voice.

"Mock all you want, I'm passing my classes with flying colors! And I don't have to worry about if my schedule explodes, 'cuz it's already done."

Her hand pointed theatrically along with her words, oddly very accurate to his position. This time.

"Neerrrrrrd." He drawled.

All he got back was a disapproving head shake and Jazz continuing to walk down the hall in an attempt to ignore him.

Now with silence in hand, Danny wormed his way through the hall and past the kitchen, where his parents had what was probably the old shield generator disassembled on the table.

Jazz must have lost the argument this time.

The bangs and clanks of metal sheets getting shoved around covered any noise he could've or would've made himself, affording him an easy slip past them and just into the basement door.

"Alrighty, just gotta-" He started, holding his captive audience up to hear.

Skulker gave a screech, unpleasantly shrill if very muffled, and Danny reflexively turned his ankle and slammed the thermos into the heel of his boot.

Skulker knew this part of the game too, going silent again.

"Christ alive, do you just never remember? Or do you secretly like being stuck in this thing for days?" He hissed, moving down the steps.

Skulker didn't give a response as Danny bridged the space to the portal, sliding the port's door open and roughly shoving the thermos in.

With an unceremonious button press, Skulker was released to the zone with an absurd amount of blob ghosts and an ectopuss in tow.

Thankfully, his parents had the portal locked for now, so there would be no immediate return from Skulker.

The upstairs had gone a bit quiet, a lull in wrench noises and poorly disguised swears barely processing in Danny's mind as he put his feet against the wall. His parents weren't subtle people; his dad alone could wake the dead. Certainly did enough of that for Danny every six am.

Tucker hadn't been wrong about Lancer being ruthless today, though he was with Sam that they'd had class time. It's just that he wasn't a fast worker like either of them, even when the day was peaceful.

Still, A couple hours in his room with his computer unplugged for temptation restrictions and to keep Technus out (sort of) and it'd be done, provided his night remained peaceful.

But how damning of him, to say that maybe he'd have it easy.

There was suddenly a cold metal barrel against his temple, and all he could discern was his mom looking smug.

Then there was the floor. Lovely floor, wonder why he didn't come down here all that often...

[ennoshitas-princess]

The Beautiful Rose

Tobio Kageyama x chubby fem! reader Warnings: Oikawa being forceful to be with you, some swearing, centaur Kageyama, violent scene Synopsis: you are the girl everyone wants to be, and you catch the eye of the king of the court Word Count: 1,612 Hopefully you like it!! This has no spoilers really. Fantasy au (inspo beauty and the beast). Don't read if you don't like violence or triggered with gun shots.

You strolled along the dirt path of the village to go to the market in the little town to get things for your mother and brother.

A shade of a pretty pastel cerulean hovered above everyone's head. The emerald blanket soaked with the morning dew. The light magenta petals of the cherry trees fell like snow in the bleak winter months. The rays warming up the ground below, caused cats and dogs to shut their eyelids tight and take a longer nap.

Basket in hand, you continued to admire your surroundings of the vast beauty of nature.

“Bonjour, monsieur.” You wave to the owner of the stand, filling your nostrils with the sweet aroma of baked goods.

“Bonjour, belle demoiselle.” He replied back.

“What do you have to offer today?” You looked at all the items, making you drool.

You could not help yourself. Just a regular habit you had that continued to occur since you were small. The thought of eating one of these delicious delights, had you wanting to buy the whole stand.

“We have bagels, cookies, baguettes, loafs of bread, and cake.” He pointed them out.

“I will take these and the baguettes.” Your hand hovered over the cookies.

“Ah, your sweet tooth demoiselle, non?”

“Oui, monsieur!”

“À plus tard!” You wave to the baker.

“Salut!”

You walk off to bump into none other than the throb of the town, Touru Oikawa.

With a sigh, you shift to your left to continue with your errands, but stopped by him moving to his right to block. You move the other direction, and he does the same thing.

“Hey umm… Oikawa-”

“Please y/n, you know we are meant to be. Call me by my first name.” He pulled you close to his lean body.

“Look Oikawa, I cannot figure out any other way to express this. I do not like you romantically at all.” You bluntly shove him away.

His blood boiled at the remark, not knowing how much you mean to him. If he got with you, everyone in the village would be jealous about your relationship. Making him look greater and grander, even more than Alexander building one of the biggest empires in history in a short amount of time.

“Look y/n, you know how much-”

Before Oikawa could finish his sentence, you left him rambling to himself. In embarrassment, he stormed off, yelling, “well y/n, we all know you hang out with a monster.”

Oikawa, being himself, just let you be.

○◐❀❀❀❀❀❀◑○

Well, Oikawa wasn't wrong about what he said earlier that day. Everyone viewed him as one, but you saw his flaws as beautiful pieces of artwork in a mural in an art museum.

You go over to the forest to visit your friend, Tobio Kageyama. The hut just beneath all the dead trees, just decaying and bald. Flowers on the sidelines wilted from the lack of sunshine. The straw roof had a massive hole. So whenever it rained, poor Kageyama’s house got soaked.

You knock at the almost deteriorated wooden door. Just with your subtle touch, the door fell on the creaking floor with a thud, spooking the horned centaur.

Dashing towards the door, he saw your plump figure at the entrance.

“Oh, it's just you y/n.” He sighed.

“Yes, it's just me, Tobio. Look, I went to the market and got some things for you to eat. I got cookies, bread, some fresh produce, and guess what I brought?” You give him the basket.

“What did you bring for me?” He reached for it, his hand brushing against your soft tiny one.

Pulling the cold item out, he smiled.

“Y/n, you brought milk!” He shouted with joy.

“Of course I did. When you are happy, I am happy.”

The centaur picked you up and spun you around twice, hugging your soft curves. You were a cute plush for him of course. If someone bad happened to you, he would find a way to save or protect you.

You strolled along the river bed calmly, as the birds sang their song peacefully. The flow of the river brought some type of relief from Oikawa’s six hundredth proposal.

As you walk, you spot a rock to rest on. When you sat down, you heard a lot of rustling in the bushes. Frightened, you got up and started to run away.

“Wait, don't run… I didn't mean to scare you. Of course someone as pretty and kind hearted as you would rush back home.” A male voice sounded disappointed.

You inch towards the male slowly, awaiting to be attacked. When you look at the man closer, you see him hiding behind the shrubs.

“Umm… how dumb of me. I should introduce myself. My name is Kageyama, Kageyama Tobio. What is yours?” He still hid.

“Nice to meet you, mine is l/n y/n.” You tell him as you go where he hid.

“That is a pretty name for a pretty lady like you. I mean, well you are just pretty because you are a human- shit!” He snapped.

“Wait, come out of the bushes. I am curious about what you meant about me being a human. Are you one?” You raise a brow.

Clopping towards where you stood, you soon begin to realize he was not a human. He came out being a centaur. The thought of you running away came across poor Kageyama's mind, but surprised that you stayed in place, examining him closely with shining e/c eyes.

“You seem very fascinating! How did you-”Before you could finish that question, he replied with all honesty.

“I was put under a spell because of how I used to treat others in my village when I was king. I ran away and now, no one is ruling my kingdom.” He rubbed the back of his head.

You stare into his ocean eyes for a long time. Just as you were in a trance, he too was in one. Charmed by your squishy body, not knowing what to say or do, he randomly said, “wanna be friends?!?”

You break eye contact, blushing, “yeah!”

You two walked inside of his cottage to snack on the little treats.

○◐❀❀❀❀❀❀◑○

As you finished your snacks, a rustle in the bushes could be heard by Kageyama. He galloped towards the shrubs.

“Bam, bam, bam!”

You heard the gunshots from inside. Rushing out of your seat, you saw Kageyama on the dirt ground, breathing heavily. You turn your head up slowly from the centaur, only to meet up with brown eyes.

“Oikawa! Why would you shoot him?” You ran towards him and wept.

“I only did it for you, y/n. I bet he had you captured and under some mind game of his, only to keep you from me.” He reached for your arm, only for you to shake it off aggressively.

“I don't like you! As a matter of fact, I hate you!” You scowl at him.“I did it all for-”

“I don't care! I want you to leave me alone. I don't want you near me in any way. I am in love with him and you think I will love you after shooting him?” Your voice boomed throughout the forest.

Oikawa's mouth formed a small circle, opened from the news you gave to him. He couldn't believe that you loved a monster like Kageyama, but not love someone as handsome as he is. Scoffing, he turned his tracks to the road to the village, stomping his way back.

“Y-you love m-m-me?” Kageyama's soft voice spoke.

You look down at him from where you knelt down, just terrified of what could happen to him in the next minute.

“Kageyama, no matter what happens, I will never forget you, alright?” Your soft hand caressed his cheek.

“Pl-please don't tell m-me I am g-going to d-die?” He stumbled with his words.

“No, no. I am not saying that. If you happen to never return to your human form, I will still love you.” A tear rolled of your cheek like dew in the morning.

Kageyama suddenly closed his eyes and his breathing stopped. Waterfalls fell from your eyes as you saw your dear friend go limp in your arms, not holding himself up anymore. You wanted to go off in the village and get revenge with all the bitterness in your mouth, but something in your heart told you not to.

You closed your eyelids and felt some warmth in your hands. Opening them slowly, you saw him glittering proudly like a star in the night sky. You could have sworn that you were dreaming, but you pinch yourself only to realize you were wide awake.

He levitated in the air like a bird flying towards the glowing sun that warmed the ground. His torso turned back. His feet bare instead of hooves. His tail disappeared. Only the figure of Kageyama laid on the ground, fluttering his sapphire eyes open.“L-l/n-san?”

“Kageyama, you are alive and in your human form!” You hugged him tightly.

He glanced at himself up and down to see that you were right. He got up and spun you around like always.

“Yes, I am back to myself. L/n-san I simply adore you too!” He smashed his lips into yours.

Flushing in all the hues that existed, you did not hesitate one single but to kiss him back.

○◐❀❀❀❀❀❀◑○

As soon as your brother and mother moved into the palace, you and Kageyama got married. Weeks later, Oikawa got sentenced for trying to kill the king. Let's just say Oikawa could never look as handsome as he wanted anymore.

A/n: hey guys!! Thank you for reading another of my posts ☺️ hope you are having a good day!!

Hopefully you enjoyed!!

Thank you for coming!!

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All rights reserved copyright ©

ennoshitas-princess

Please DO NOT repost on any other platform!!

Reblogs are acceptable

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(divider below blue text belongs to @besitodefresas)

[earthtoharlow]

Tattooed Heart

Urban Wyatt x ModelOC

Series Masterlist

Here’s the last fic that’s part of my one year anniversary celebration!

Giovanni stood in the corner of the bar as she watched men and women in fancy clothes as they sipped wine and fake laughed at everyone’s shitty jokes. She felt out of place in her custom made outfit. Party girl at heart, she would usually love being in a bar but not with these asshole models who thought they were better than her because they didn’t have face tattoos. After three dirty looks as she approached magazine editors to network, she was over it. Already hitting her social quota for the night, maybe even the year.

Behind her she noticed an employee- only door which took you outside the club. Not being able to stand it any longer any longer, Giovanni quickly exited before anyone noticed.

She sighed in relief as she made it outside as she leaned against the brick wall of the bar, hyping herself up to go back in when she heard a flicker of a lighter, followed by the heavy smoke of weed.

“You look like you could use a puff or two…”

Giovanni immediately turned her head and saw a tall white guy with long blonde hair with a camera hanging around his neck,with his hand held out. It wouldn’t be the first time she saw that while in NY, at least this time, this guy was cute.

She realized she was staring too long and took the blunt out the strangers hand and took a long puff. Giovanni immediately felt her whole body relax. This was exactly what she needed.

It was quiet as the two passed the blunt back and forth, as they finished Giovanni couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fake drunken laughter coming from the other side of the wall. She really didn’t want to go back in there.

“Yo, there’s a pizza joint like a block from here you wanna hit it up?” The guy suddenly asked.

She raised an eyebrow before answering, “You don’t even know my name and you’re inviting me to get pizza with you?”

He simply just shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, you can stay here with these snobs if you want…but I’m going to get pizza.”

Giovanni looked between the strange but cute man and the door that would lead her back inside and immediately she knew what she was going to do.

“Okay, I’m coming with you but can you at least tell me your name? I've just been calling you “strange guy with weed” in my head.”

The guy let out a chuckle at that. “It’s Urban.” He held his hand out for her to shake.

She grabbed his hand and pulled away almost as quickly when she felt a spark. “I’m Giovanni.”

“Nice to meet you, Giovanni. Now, that we’ve got that out of the way can we go get pizza, I’m hungry as fuck!”

Giovanni nodded before pushing away from the wall and following Urban’s lead to the pizza shop.

“I carry a knife by the way, and I’m not scared to use it.”

Urban looked at Giovanni with a grin. “Cool.”

***

“So are you like a real photographer or like one of those guys who just likes to take pictures of naked women and call it art?” Giovanni asked before taking a big bite of her pizza.

Urban covered his mouth with his hand as he chewed. “I’m a real photographer, my best friend does music so I basically document everything for him.”

Giovanni nodded, not shocked, it’s NY, everyone was into music. It was quiet for a moment before Urban spoke again. “So what’s your story?”

She paused as she reached for another slice of pizza. “My story?”

Urban nodded, “yeah your story. Everyone moves to NY to chase their dreams so what’s yours?”

Giovanni laughed nervously. No one ever asked about her story before, and when she told people what she did they never took her seriously because of the way she looked.

“Well, I’m a model.” She said sitting up straight in the booth.

“Fuck yeah! I figured.”

Giovanni immediately got defensive. “What do you mean by that?”

“Chill dude, don’t pull out your knife. I just meant that I figured you did something with fashion because you look dope as fuck. The outfit, the grills, the face tattoos, plus the fact that you’re stunning…”

She relaxed a bit in her seat, people always used the grills and face tattoos as excuses to not work with her because she didn’t look like the typical model, and here’s this stranger who has only known her for two hours and turned all those excuses into positives.

“Oh thanks, I’m really happy you see it that way. Not everyone gets it.”

Urban simply shrugged his shoulders. “I call it like I see it.”

Giovanni could tell Urban had something else to say, and it was like a light bulb went off on his head when he suddenly dropped his pizza.

“Let’s prove them wrong!”

Giovanni raised an eyebrow “what?”

“Let’s prove those fuckers wrong and show them how damn good a model you are.”

“….and how are we supposed to do that?” She questioned him

She watched as Urban rolled his eyes and waved his camera in the air with a duh expression.

“We can run around the city and take pictures.” Urban started sliding out the booth and throwing away his trash. Giovanni just sat and watched. He turned around when he noticed she was still in her seat. Walking over he grabbed Giovanni’s hand and dragged her out the pizza place. “Ok ok, stop pulling me! I’m coming!”

***

They had been walking on the sidewalk for a few minutes trying to find a good location. Neither of them had noticed they were still holding hands.

Urban suddenly dropped her hand at the empty crosswalk, scooping out the area. “Ok, Gio, pretend this crosswalk is a runway.”

Giovanni ignored how he shortened her name and nodded before walking to the middle of the crosswalk.

She naturally put her hands on her hips and started strutting down the street, but stopped when she noticed Urban shaking her head. “What?”

Urban jogged towards her “Don’t put your hands on your hips. It should be more natural.” Giovanni watched in amazement as Urban demonstrated how he wanted her to walk. She knew he meant well but she couldn’t help but fall over in laughter as she watched his flip his hair over his shoulder as he walked across the street.

“Urban please stop I’m begging” Urban couldn’t help but smile huge at the way Giovanni was bent over laughing at his silliness. He could listen to her laugh on repeat. He watched as she calmed down and wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Act like I’m not here.”

Giovanni took a deep breath and walked across the street towards Urban as he snapped shots of her, she made sure to turn her head to the side as if she was looking out for incoming traffic. Her confidence rose as she could hear Urban praising her from behind his camera.

Giovanni continued to pose, bending down and hugging her knees. When Urban walked closer to get a close up, she flashed him a big smile. Urban’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her beautiful smile. He didn’t even have to see the photo to know that was going to be the money shot.

They ended up taking photos all night long before they noticed it was 5 o’clock in the morning. Thankfully they weren’t too far from their cars. The streets were a lot quieter than it was a couple hours ago, as they walked in a comfortable silence. Feeling a lot more comfortable than she was a few hours ago, Giovanni nudged Urban with her shoulder as she walked beside him to get his attention.

Urban playfully nudged her back. Giovanni was the first to speak. “Ok, you know my story but what’s yours?”

Urban, never the one to like to talk about himself, just shrugged his shoulders. “I told you, I’m a photographer.”

Giovanni rolled her eyes, “If I hadn’t just spent the whole night with you, I would simply just take that for an answer. Tell me about your friend who does music, you say you travel the world with him so he must be good.”

Urban smiled at that, his best friend was pretty good at this music thing. “Yeah, we’ve been best friends since middle school, after we graduated we got an apartment together in Atlanta and were legit working at Chic-Fil-A trying to make ends meet…”

“Wait wait? You were my pleasuring people and served homophobic chicken sandwiches?” Giovanni said as she cut him off.

All Urban could do was laugh and shake his head. “Definitely not, we were just in the back buttering the buns. But anyway he got signed a couple years ago and we’ve been traveling the world ever since.”

Giovanni loved hearing success stories like that, it always inspired her to keep going.

“That’s fucking awesome dude, what’s his name? I’m going to add it to my playlist.” Giovanni asked before pulling out her phone so she could add him to her playlist. She looked up when Urban didn’t speak again.

“Dude, are you going to tell me?”

She watched as Urban nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, his name is Jack Harlow.”

Giovanni nodded and added Jack to her playlist. “Cool, I can’t wait to listen to his music!”

“Wait—“ Urban grabbed her arm lightly to stop her.

“I said his name was Jack Harlow?”

Giovanni nodded, giving him a weird look, “yeah, I heard you. I’m going to listen to his music, what’s the issue?”

“Oh…people usually act really weird when I mention him so…”

“Not gonna lie, dude I’ve never heard of him before.”

Urban widden a little in shock, almost everyone knew who he was. “Really?”

“Yeah really?” Giovanni said confused, making a mental note to look him up when she got home.

They continued walking down the sidewalk before eventually making it to Giovanni’s car next to the bar.

Leaning against the car Giovanni spoke first, “Thanks for walking me back to my car and for saving me from this place.” She said as she motioned towards the building behind them.

Urban rocked on the back of his heels with both hands shoved in his pockets. “Don’t worry about it.”

Giovanni unlocked her car, and got inside. She rolled her window so she could tell Urban goodnight.

“Goodnight, Urban.”

Urban placed his hands on the roof of the car, leaning into her window. “Goodnight, Giovanni” before tapping the roof of her car.

She gave him a wave before driving off. Urban watched as she pulled away and started walking back in the opposite direction. Giovanni didn’t need to know that his car wasn’t close by.

Once he got in his car, Urban cursed to himself when he realized he never got her number.

URBANWYATT

liked by jackharlow, joeywagner, selenosunni,cozane,neelamthadhani and 765,035 others

urbanwyatt: Met this dope model a couple weeks ago, her name is Giovanni. I unfortunately forgot to get her number, can anyone help me find her?

view all 10,579 comments

user: she’s gorgeous holy shit

user: her tattoos 😍

user: hope you find her soon!!

user: we gotta find her and get her on some magazine covers

user: she looks so familiar

user: you captured her beauty so well!

user: she should be on every runway and magazine cover!!

***

AN: My one year anniversary celebration is over! Thank you to everyone who's read everything i've dropped this month and this past year. I really do appreciate it so much. I love you all!

Let me know your thoughts on this :)))

thank you to @harlowcomehome for helping me with this 💜

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