#Color Matching Techniques | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tarotwithavi · 9 months ago

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Your moon sign and the best manifestation techniques for you

In astrology, your Moon sign represents your inner self: your emotions, intuition, and natural instincts. Unlike your Sun sign, which shows how you present yourself to the world, your Moon sign is all about how you feel and connect to your deeper desires.

Because manifestation is about aligning your thoughts, emotions, and actions to bring your dreams into reality, understanding your Moon sign can help you pick a manifestation method that works best for you.

This can also apply to what house your moon is in.

1. Aries Moon

Action-Based Manifestation

If your Moon is in Aries, you’re driven by passion, enthusiasm, and a need for action. Aries Moons often feel things intensely and have a “go-getter” attitude.

Best Method: Physical Action Manifestation

- Set a clear, strong intention for what you want, and then take immediate action toward it.

- Make a vision board or list, but focus more on doing things that bring you closer to your goals.

- Try “energy-boosting rituals,” like lighting a red candle or working out while thinking about your goals.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

2. Taurus Moon

Visualization and Sensory Manifestation

Taurus Moons value stability, comfort, and pleasure. You connect best through physical senses, so you need to feel your manifestation in a tangible way.

Best Method : Sensory Visualization

- Sit in a comfortable space and imagine your dream life with all five senses. Picture the colors, sounds, scents, textures, and even tastes of your goal.

- Use physical objects, like stones, candles, or money, as manifestation symbols.

- Write affirmations about your desires in a journal, and keep them somewhere you see every day.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

3. Gemini Moon

Verbal and Written Manifestation

With a Gemini Moon, you’re naturally communicative, curious, and mentally active. You connect easily with words, making verbal or written manifestation very effective.

Best Method : Journaling and Scripting

- Write about your dreams as if they’re already happening. Describe them in detail, as if telling a story.

- Practice “affirmation speaking,” where you say what you want out loud as if it’s already true.

- Keep a manifestation journal and revisit it daily to keep your thoughts and energy aligned.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

4. Cancer Moon

Emotional and Intuitive Manifestation

Cancer Moons are deeply sensitive and intuitive, meaning you manifest best when you connect to your feelings. You need to feel your desire deeply to believe in it.

Best Method: Emotion-Focused Visualization

- Picture yourself experiencing your goal and focus on how it makes you feel.

- Use moon rituals or water-based activities, like writing your goal on paper and setting it under moonlight.

- Connect with your heart, imagining the joy, peace, and comfort you’ll feel once your dream is real.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

5. Leo Moon

Creative Visualization and Affirmations

If you have a Leo Moon, you’re naturally expressive, confident, and full of warmth. Leo Moons thrive when they bring creativity into manifestation.

Best Method : Creative Visualization with Affirmations

- Use mirror affirmations: say your desires out loud while looking at yourself in the mirror to boost self-confidence.

- Create a vision board with bright, inspiring images and colors that match your goals.

- Visualize yourself shining and receiving praise for achieving your goals, like watching yourself on a stage.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

6. Virgo Moon

Practical Planning and Daily Affirmations

Virgo Moons are detail-oriented, analytical, and practical. You feel best when things are organized and clear, so a structured approach works wonders for you.

Best Method: Goal Setting with Step-by-Step Plans

- Write a detailed plan for each goal, breaking it down into small, achievable steps.

- Use daily affirmations that keep you focused on steady progress.

- Dedicate a “manifestation notebook” where you track your progress and reflect on what’s working.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

7. Libra Moon

Balance, Visualization, and Partnership

Libra Moons value harmony, balance, and connection with others. You manifest best in environments where you feel calm, and often benefit from working with someone else.

Best Method : harmonised Visualization and Partnership Manifestation

- Visualize your goal in a peaceful setting. Think of a serene scene that represents your dream life.

- Use positive affirmations for balance and harmony, like “I attract peaceful, joyful experiences.”

- Consider finding a “manifestation buddy” to set goals together and support each other.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

8. Scorpio Moon

Deep, Intuitive, and Transformation Rituals

Scorpio Moons feel emotions intensely and are highly intuitive. You connect deeply with transformative and spiritual practices, so you manifest best through focused, powerful rituals.

Best Method : Intense Visualization and Transformation Rituals

- Use candle rituals, incense, or crystals to amplify your manifestation energy.

- Practice “shadow work” — explore hidden desires and be honest about what you truly want.

- Use visualization, imagining yourself completely transformed and in your ideal reality.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

9. Sagittarius Moon

Adventure and Abundance Manifestation

Sagittarius Moons are optimistic, freedom-loving, and drawn to adventure. You need a manifestation method that feels fun, big, and open-minded.

Best Method : Future Vision and Gratitude Practices

- Imagine your goal as an adventure waiting to unfold, feeling the excitement it brings.

- Use gratitude journaling: write down everything you’re grateful for daily, especially things that relate to your dream life.

- Dream big — don’t be afraid to visualize goals that may seem “out of reach” and trust the process.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

10. Capricorn Moon

Goal Setting with a Focused Plan

Capricorn Moons are practical, determined, and ambitious. You manifest best with structured goals and long-term focus, often preferring realistic methods over “magical” approaches.

Best Method : Structured Goal Setting and Visualization

- Set a clear, realistic goal and create a plan of action with deadlines.

- Visualize yourself achieving each milestone and feel the sense of accomplishment.

- Create a “success board” where you note each step you complete, keeping you motivated and focused.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

11. Aquarius Moon

Unique Visualization and Group Manifestation

Aquarius Moons are original thinkers, independent, and open-minded. You thrive with unique, forward-thinking methods, and may enjoy manifesting in a group setting.

Best Method : Creative Visualization and Group Manifesting

- Try out-of-the-box visualization techniques, like drawing or making abstract art that represents your goals.

- Write affirmations on sticky notes around your room, or visualize your dream while listening to uplifting music.

- Manifest with like-minded friends or groups, as shared energy aligns with Aquarius’ love for community.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

12. Pisces Moon

Spiritual and Dream-Based Manifestation

Pisces Moons are dreamy, intuitive, and deeply spiritual. You connect best with manifestation methods that feel magical, gentle, and imaginative.

Best Method : Dream Journaling and Meditation

- Before sleeping, visualize your dreams as if they’re happening right now, letting your imagination flow.

- Keep a dream journal by your bed and write down any insights you get upon waking.

- Use guided meditations or spend time by water (like a lake or river) while focusing on your dreams to enhance your natural intuition

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

Manifestation is most powerful when it feels like an authentic extension of you.

*⁠.⁠✧ 🦢

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shoeistars · 2 months ago

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adrenaline rush !

incl. isagi, bachira, kunigami, reo, nagi, barou, rin, shidou

ʚଓ outline. there’s something different about the way he fucks you post match

ʚଓ w. 18+ content, minors dni, pro!characters, fem!bodied, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise

isagi !

It’s always the same. Not to say that Isagi had boring sex game— no, there is zero truth to that. Win, lose, draw, he had this primal feel to him once all was said and done on the pitch. Sweaty, a little flushed in the cheeks and ears, total tunnel vision because the one thing he wants after a game is a warm and wet pussy to sink into.

The hotel bed didn’t stand a chance, really. It has probably seen its fair share of fucking, has likely withheld many bumps and breaks. Each thrust caused an annoying creak to echo into the air, a small little cry for help that fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t the type to settle for a quick fuck but home was miles away and he was an impatient man. The walls were blank, the sheets wrinkling and coming undone from each corner of the mattress, bunching right underneath your spent body as he works you out further.

“Is there a reason why you’re bein’ quiet?” The rough cut of Isagi’s voice questions into your right ear, body mounted on top of yours as if to mimic that sweet and victorious moment of a predator capturing his dinner. There’s a rhythm to his hips as he plows you from behind, not quite hitting deep and merely focused on speed alone.

His hand, the one not curled loosely around your throat and threatening to cut off your oxygen supply, kneads at the crease of your hip meeting your thigh. It would feel like a rather loving touch if he weren’t battering into your guts to chase his own high. It goes off course and dips between your thighs, pawing gently at the mound of your hot cunt before introducing his middle and ring finger in a slippery dance against your clit.

“That’s fine, you don’t gotta say a thing,” He drawls on, choking on a groan at the feeling of you pulsing so delicately around his cock. That egoist that the field loves to see so much shines through even hours after he’s left the grass, after he’s ditched the cleats. It seeps out of his pores, it leaves his throat in the form of snark and cockiness. You’ve always told him how much you adored it when he got into his flow, anyway. “This pussy tells on you every fucking time.”

bachira !

Endorphins flooding his brain, Bachira can barely see straight. Every single win under his belt has felt the same, gave him that same smile and that familiar rush. There was nothing like reaching the tip of the iceberg and collecting yet another accomplishment in his career. He’s always been the type to celebrate by stretching the party, by chasing drinks and good food and enjoying company.

One of his favorite ways to celebrate a good and clean win is to have you spread out on the bed. As much as he misses his funky room back at home, the one filled with colors and his personality— the provided living quarters would have to suffice. Door locked, plenty of activity going on just outside. Bachira wasn’t himself if he weren’t living on the very edge.

Lips suctioned to your pussy, he can only smile at the feeling of sharp tugs assaulting his long hair. He’s still damp with sweat but you never seemed to mind, surely not when he was sucking you up like his last meal. He’s gotten the hang of going down on his girl after plenty of years, twisting and turning his tongue against your throbbing clit with technique. “Meguru, don’t stop,” you mewl rather loud, thighs twitching and toes curling against his shoulders.

“So loud,” he snickers against your pussy with glossy lips and lidded eyes, moaning softly against your folds before he’s pulling back to spit a thick glob onto your hole. His thumb dips down to smear it along your lips, biting his own at the erotic view before pushing the mess right back into your cunt. “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

The beautiful thing about a man as patient as Bachira was that he could do this for hours, sucking and licking and kissing. Nothing got him harder than getting you off, than suffocating in your cream and your scent. He had time.

kunigami !

Blue Lock as a whole ruined your boyfriend. He was never the same, never would be. There was a lack of spirit in him that was once his one unique quality. Everyone who knew Kunigami grew to adore him because he really was just a friendly face. Now, soccer and everything to do with the sport only brought out this nasty side to him.

The first time you were able to reunite was messy. Post game, he would normally stick to something easy. Nice dinner reservation, a little bit of harmless fun afterwards. That Kunigami was left in the goddamn dirt, replaced with someone who still loved but in such a drastically different way.

He was mean. Of course, you’d adapt. He would still remain loyal and considerate, would still make sure you were taken care of after all was said and done. There was just an animalistic dominance to him in the bedroom that was so unrecognizable to what once was. He was ferocious in the way he guided you down to your knees, slapping his thick and heavy dick against your cheek once, twice, three times for good measure.

Grunts and groans filled the room, never a quiet guy. The old Kunigami was gentle and even a bit timid but the way he fucks your face now is the opposite. Spit dribbling down your chin, throat nearly bulging with the head of his cock, gags so forcibly loud that they’d be leaving your voice hoarse. Your hands are shaky as they attempt to curl around the thickness of his quads, begging for a break. The sight only makes him scoff.

“Make me cum,” He demands, quiet yet filled with a sharpness that made you squeeze your thighs together. “Earn it.”

reo !

The time and place doesn’t matter— Reo will always be a sucker for missionary. He’s a yearner, he loves so deeply and a hundred wins could never compare to watching your face when he’s laying it down good. The furrow in your brow, the scrunch of your nose. Bliss always looked best on you and he just wouldn’t be him if he didn’t spoil you rotten.

Stupidly expensive chain dangling right in your face, the metal swaying with each hard thrust. Reo hasn’t blinked once since getting you on the leather sofa, focused on what you respond best to. Not a single twitch could go unnoticed by him and he’d be damned if he doesn’t get your cross-eyed, if he doesn’t get you singing by the time he’s done making a sloppy mess of you.

“So cute,” He whispers sweetly, a little tipsy from the after party that the two of you returned from just shy of an hour ago. Your makeup left messy trails and streaks all over but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t add to it all. Liquor staining his lips, he can’t help himself from diving down for a needy little kiss. Lips sliding against yours, just a ghost of a touch, almost missing and pecking at the corner of your mouth instead.

Your legs ache from how high they’re settled, heels propped on his shoulders. He’s gotten big since his first big steps at chasing a professional career, the protein doing what it was supposed to do. Your ogling of his physique was cut so short as he snuck a hand between your legs, circling at your clit with percision. He had a one track mind and that was to get you squirting, to get you feeling just as good as today has felt for him.

“Show me how wet this pussy gets for me,” Reo punctuates his plea with faster circles, deeper thrusts, unable to help the satisfied grin that tugs at his lips when you only grow louder. “Make me proud. Nut on my dick, know you can do it.”

nagi !

Not a lot of things come to impress Nagi Seishirou. He’s hard to capture the attention of, going through life with simplicity and preferring to stick to his guns. It was a shock to everyone who knew him when he landed a girlfriend in the first place. The same guy who disregarded everything that required the bare minimum amount of attention managed to score? It was almost too good to be true.

It was fair to assume that after years of learning how to be present, how to be a fair and decent boyfriend, he could never go back. Not after getting a taste of you, not after feeling the highs that you managed to pull straight out of him like a puppet to your string. You opened so many new doors, you were good for his mental.

The best way to spend a good night is to make it even better. Your thighs straddle his, the fancy little number you wore for such a big game ridden up and out of his way. Pussy leaking like a faucet, the sounds of you bouncing your hips is embarrassingly loud in the backseat of your car. The two of you just couldn’t wait.

“Look so good tonight, baby,” He practically slurs, pussydrunk and successfully knocked from all of the theatrics of the night. He can never seem to think straight once you’re on top of him like this, tits bouncing right in his face, wrapped around him like a serpent. “Know that? Did I already tell you? I’ll tell you a million times.”

Oh, how he would. He would do whatever the hell you want if you’d just stay like this, wrapped around him like a vise, squeezing him hotly. You were his dime piece and he’d be an utter fool to not bend at your every beck and call.

barou !

Naturally, his first order of business after hours of playing on the same standing grounds as a bunch of sweaty neanderthals is to hit the showers. There’s nothing that he hates more than the way his jersey sticks to his back like glue, the skin of his forehead dewy. What he wasn’t expecting was his little plus one to trail on in after him, clothes long ditched as you slot yourself into the tiny compact stalls of the stadium’s complementary showers.

You know him by now. You know that whether he ate a loss or devoured a victory that he wasn’t much of a talker after exerting himself in the hot sun. Nearly running on empty, this was the one and only time that the stupidly buff man was dead silent. Zero complaints left him as he wrapped a wet palm around the nape of your neck, brushing lazily at the hair there with his thumb, angling upwards until he could latch his lips to yours.

Slow kisses and gentle touches, there wasn’t much energy left for a rough fuck. Barou was a thorough lover at the end of the day, showing his gratitude of your endless support by making your pussy soak him sloppy. The sensuality made up for the lack of output, so tender and passionate in ways that screams his love without making him verbalize it. God forbid he ever did that.

“Oh, I know,” he purrs against your swollen bottom lip as he sinks in, sheer strength keeping you held in his arms, back against the cold tile of the shower. Your hearty whimpers bounce off of the walls and he swears it’s his favorite sound. It’s always a challenge to take such a thick cock and he’s nothing if not a gentleman. “It’s so deep, huh? You’re taking it so well, though.”

It always makes him bite back a grin of pride when your nails claw at his shoulders, leaving nasty marks into the meaty flesh— a last resort at gathering your bearings before he fucks you so out of your mind that you threaten to pass out every single time. The sounds are filthy as he pours every last bit of his effort into you, tiring you out to match.

rin !

Soccer invokes plenty of strong emotions out of Rin as a whole. The pitch is the one place where he can unleash everything, where it genuinely counts. Post match? He gets rather passionate, in his feelings, raw and open like a fresh cut. It’s clear that he puts his full effort into every little detail of his day, that he considers everything a waste if not done to the fullest.

Simply put, if you aren’t shaking purely from overstimulation and pleasure, he isn’t done. A man akin to a machine, stamina blessing him with several rounds in the tank, there’s no telling just how long he’ll keep you in the same position. Body pressed into the bed, twitching against the wrinkled sheets, weakly holding onto a pillow as your final saving grace.

“Shit, that’s it,” He hisses as soon as he feels the tight, hot grip of your cunt wringing him. It’s the fifth he’s managed to pull out of you, keeping you perfectly bent until you physically give out. Times like these, sweat glistening down your back and thighs quivering as if they’re ready to snap are his favorite.

A hand reaches until it hits skin. It runs along the nape of your neck, sticky and dewy yet so intimate. His fingers dip down to cup your chin, light in the way he forces you to look over your shoulder. Your eyes connect and it has you breaking all over again, doing your best to keep them open as you cum almost on instant. Balls clapping your swollen clit with the sheer angle he’s hitting, so deep in your guts that it hurts. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

No, you were the love of his goddamn life. The one person he looked for in a room full of people, the only one who’s seen every inch of his body. He could never be worthy of you if he couldn’t fuck you to sleep with ease.

shidou !

Shidou on the field and off of the field are arguably the same person. Still eccentric, still too inappropriate for his own good. He brings levels of excitement that are otherwise hard to reach and truly, it’s difficult to keep up with him. Marching to the beat of his own drum and seeking fulfillment is what gives him his drive, its fuel for his fire.

The hospitality was his favorite part of the Blue Lock journey. He outperformed majority of the selected players and he was rewarded in turn, given luxuries and spoiled to the nines with catering and amenities. His suite was huge and he’s already fucked you in every corner of it, every surface. It’s not his until it’s tainted with him, after all.

“Shit, I needed this after today,” His voice rasps in your ear, the hard plastic edge of the hot tub that he’s got you bent over successfully digging into your ribs. Bubbles and suds clap into the air with each thrust, water gently rocking into a splash as it spills past the confines and drips onto the concrete of the balcony. It was a beautiful night after a beautiful win and nothing could make this better for him. “Water’s so warm. Do you like it too? Huh, gorgeous?”

When a dick that long was forcing itself into you, in and out like a sick song, kissing your cervix with each hit— words were hard to come by. Moans and gasps rupture from your throat as you try to muster a nod, grasping at the slippery corner of the hot tub for dear life, his pelvis smacking against the globes of your ass hard enough to sting.

He stops, so cruel and mean, dick still fully lodged in your walls. Pressing deep, hugging your aching sides and tugging you into his chest, he plants sloppy wet kisses along your cheek. “C’mon,” Shidou sneers with a smile, downright evil in the way he brings a hand up to grip your face between his fingers. “Good girls speak when they’re spoken to.”

#bllk smut #bllk x reader #isagi smut #bachira smut #kunigami smut #reo smut #nagi smut #barou smut #rin smut #itoshi smut #rin itoshi smut #shidou smut #blue lock smut

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seoulmatez · 2 months ago

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𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

mornings spent with the windbreaker boys.

suo hayato, kiryu mitsuku, umemiya hajime, togame jo x reader (separate) ﾉ 2k wc total ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ one suggestive bit in togame’s :3

SUO HAYATO

People say it’s normal for partners to pick up habits from each other and you suppose your relationship with Suo is no different. You’ve taken up joining him for his morning meditation sessions, making it a ritual of your own. Even now, the two of you sit side by side on the rug in your living room, coffee table pushed to the side, patio door open to let in the sound of chirping birds and soft wind that characterize the calm nature of morning.

You hear his breathing from beside you, each breath deep and controlled. His very presence is enough to set your mind and being at peace but as you mimic his technique, you begin to wonder what thoughts run through his head during these brief, relaxing moments. Perhaps he has a mantra he repeats to himself or maybe he simply takes the time to mentally walk himself through his tasks for the day as preparation.

Would it be naive of you to hope that his mind wanders to you? It’s not so unreasonable to think that he can feel your presence as well, no? Maybe you have the same effect on him—maybe he’s found a new sense of serenity in your proximity. You’ve certainly started enjoying mornings more given the opportunity to share this time with him. It feels like the two of you are secluded in your own impenetrable bubble, inaccessible to the outside world and any distractions it may throw your way—

The bubble pops with the feel of fingers tickling your exposed sides. Your eyes fly open at the unexpected contact and all that steady breathing you had been focused on goes out the door as the sound of your giggles penetrates the once-quiet air. Despite obvious evidence of an attack, the perpetrator is nowhere in sight. It’s not until you tip your head back in uncontrollable laughter that you finally see him—Suo situated behind you with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you try to pry his fingers away but you’re no match for him. His hands only still at your sides when you collapse against his chest in defeat. Your uneven breathing fills the room, punctuated by a chuckle from Suo. The vibration from him causes you to turn your eyes up to meet his.

Dark hair and an eyepatch almost shield his gaze but one cherry brown eye is still on display and it’s looking straight down at you. “I thought meditation was supposed to be calm and relaxing.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, but you doubt its genuineness when he playfully pinches each side of your tummy, drawing a squeak out of you. “I took a peek and you looked so cute and concentrated—I just couldn’t help myself.”

His hands come up to cradle your face, lithe fingers running along the curve of your jaw before he dips down to steal a kiss. His lips are soft and warm and easily restore that soothing feeling you associate him with. You suppose it’s enough to earn your forgiveness.

KIRYU MITSUKI

“Your pink is starting to fade,” you tell Kiryu, your fingers combing through the soft pink strands. He’s sitting on top of the toilet seat with his legs crossed, still dressed in the pajamas he slept in. It’s funny—how soft he looks in his matching set with messy bedhead despite all of the metal jewelry decorating his face.

One of his hands pokes out from the satin sleeve that’s just a bit too long to reach up and take hold of a tuft of hair. The pieces of hair that are usually clipped back hang in front of bright green eyes as he examines the lightened strands.

“Should we refresh it with more pink?” you ask. There’s plenty of dye left over from the last time you colored his hair stored underneath the sink. It wouldn’t take too long and neither of you are in a rush to leave the house, though, before you make a move to grab it or even wait for an answer, another thought pops into your head. “Or maybe we can try another color?”

Kiryu lets the hair fall from between his fingers and turns his eyes up toward you. A cat-like grin pulls at his lips and there’s a curious sparkle in his dazzling irises. “Oh? Any suggestions?”

You take in the pink that has dulled to a pale hue, like a cherry blossom past its prime, and the darker hair that has started growing in at the roots. With a contemplative hum and head tilt, you share your thoughts. “Maybe we could bleach it and keep it blonde?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, floppy hair bouncing with each back-and-forth movement. “That’ll wash me out.”

You can’t help the laugh you breathe out at his reasoning. Ever so insightful, you think, toying with his silky soft strands. It makes sense, though—Kiryu’s always been in tune with the intricacies of his appearance, understands what looks are flattering on him and which styles to avoid. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew more about cosmetology and fashion than you did.

“You’re right.” You nod your head in agreement. Truly, you’re sure that blonde would look just fine on him, to you and everyone else at least, but knowing his preferences and what he tends to steer clear of makes it too easy to tease him. You try to hide your smile with your next words. “Orange could be fun though, yeah?”

His smile doesn’t waver but his eyebrows do knit together in a show of disapproval. “Did you wake up on a mission to turn me into a clown?”

Your laughter echoes off the bathroom walls with his response. Kiryu’s expression softens as he takes in how pretty you look when you laugh. He could get used to seeing such a sight every morning.

You clear the humor from your voice, pushing the hair hung over his forehead back to place a kiss on his hairline. “Guess we’re sticking with pink, then.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME

“I’ll never understand how you’re so good at that,” you say from behind Umemiya. Your arms are wrapped around his midsection, your head tilted to the side to get a glimpse of the work he’s putting into breakfast. He’s stood at the stove, hands expertly alternating between pouring thin layers of an egg and vegetable mixture into the pan and rolling the layers into an omelet. You’ve tried the task on your own several times in the past and none of your attempts have ever come close to what Umemiya delivers.

He chuckles, the rumble of the sound vibrating against your arms that hold him. That makes it even more impressive—even with you clinging to him, he has no trouble making the picture-perfect dish. “Lots of practice. Don’t sell yourself short—yours are good too.”

“You shouldn’t lie, Ume.” You pinch his side but the action only draws out another laugh. He’s so kind he won’t consider saying something that might hurt your feelings—even if it’s true, even over something as trivial as eggs. You love that about him, how he always considers the feelings of others.

You can only hope that you’re able to repay all of his kindness.

“I know I would have ruined the omelet but are you sure there’s nothing else I can help with?”

“Hey, I told you not to worry about anything,” he lightly scolds you for looking for something to do. He told you earlier that he could handle preparing breakfast on his own this morning—something about wanting to treat you to the first harvest of the vegetables he was growing in his garden. They’re sprinkled into the meal—the carrots and scallions in the omelet, the pickled daikon waiting to be plated. “The only job I’m tasking you with is to relax.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave everything to you.”

Despite your compliance to stick to relaxing, you follow Umemiya around the kitchen as he cooks, commenting on how good everything looks and simply watching him in his element. You don’t get to focus much on him when the two of you cook together and you have to admit that it’s nice seeing him do something he loves with such a satisfied smile on his face.

Before long, breakfast is finished and plated on the table, you and Umemiya sitting opposite of each other. You pick up your utensils and a piece of the rolled omelet with them. You bring it to your mouth and are a second away from taking a bite when you notice the light-haired man isn’t mirroring your actions. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Yeah.” He nods and then points to your food. “You give it a taste first.”

Without directly asking, he wants to know what you think. You give in to his request and take a bite of the omelet. Just as all of his cooking is, the dish is incredible. You shoot him and smile and nod in approval while you chew which earns a chuckle.

“Good?”

“Even better than usual,” you tell him after swallowing. “Your veggies were definitely the secret ingredient.”

Your compliment makes his smile grow wider. It’s nice to know you can bring him happiness the same way he does for you.

TOGAME JO

Even with the curtains closed, a sliver of sunlight passes through them, lighting up a stripe of skin on your face. Your eyes flutter open and are met with the light. It’s bright and warm, signifying the start of the day. You glance at the sleeping figure in front of you with all of his messy dark hair and beauty marks scattered about his skin. The light doesn't seem to have disturbed him and you can’t find it in yourself to rouse him.

You plan to let him snooze for a bit longer while you get an early start to the day. His arm lazily draped over you, you attempt to scooch back and simply let it fall, though, as soon as you make a move to leave, his arm tightens around you.

“I’m getting up, Kame,” you whisper, hoping your voice isn’t loud enough to really wake him up. You make another move to leave the bed but find yourself pulled even closer to the warm body. He groans restlessly but you don’t buy it—once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern.

You grin at his disguised effort to keep you from getting up. Not entirely convincing but you can’t deny its efficacy—he has kept you in bed. “You’re terrible at pretending to be asleep.”

“Can you blame a guy for trying?” he asks, eyes still closed, voice groggy from not having been used in hours. “I’d rather stay in bed with you than go out and do anything.”

It’s flattering to think that he’d rather spend time in bed doing nothing with you over any other way he could spend his day. You’d be lying if you said the prospect wasn’t tempting but you know better than to indulge. Agreeing to another ten minutes is essentially akin to signing your entire morning away and unlike Togame, you actually have some things to get done today.

“What about all the stuff I have to do today?” you ask. You have a sneaking suspicion that you already know the answer but you want to hear it for yourself.

His eyes finally drift open, putting green irises on display. His gaze is sleepy but there’s a lingering glint of humor in it. “I’m sure it can wait a short while.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” you tell him through a quiet laugh. Togame’s lips curl up in a smile as he presses his forehead against yours, only loose, dark curls separating his skin from yours. Maybe you should be annoyed at how easily he’s willing to set your day back but the truth is, he’s right—everything else can wait.

You breathe in deeply, letting your hand come up to play with the thick strands of hair at the nape of his neck. “How do you suppose we spend the morning in bed?”

His lips brush against yours, stopping at the corner of your mouth to press a kiss there. His breath tickles you with his next words. “I can think of a couple things to do.”

sua here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#scribbles ᝰ.ᐟ #suo x reader #kiryu x reader #umemiya x reader #togame x reader #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #suo fluff #kiryu fluff #umemiya fluff #togame fluff #wind breaker fluff #wind breaker drabble #— wind breaker.

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vanillaxbambi · 24 days ago

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+•#behind the camera—ch.1 || lee heeseung.

+•pairing: childhood crush-> idol!heeseung x make-up artist!reader

+* wc: 5.5k

+•contains: eventual smut, mature content. mdni. will add more contents in later chapters.

synopsis: Ten years ago, you broke a boy’s heart with a single sentence on a moving bus. Now he’s a global idol, and you’re the makeup artist assigned to his face for a vampire-themed concept shoot. The moment he sits in your chair—long legs, lazy smirk, fangs and all—you feel it: tension. History. Trouble. Heeseung remembers you. All of you. And worse—he’s not letting you forget. He flirts effortlessly. Teases you in front of cameras. Asks about the past with too much familiarity and not enough mercy. You keep your brush steady, your voice calm, but behind the scenes? He’s unraveling you thread by thread. You swore you were over it. You swore he wouldn’t matter. But now, under the bright lights and his sharper-than-ever gaze, you’re starting to wonder— did you reject a boy…or just delay a man who was far too confident?

m i k a🌷: sooo because of felix flirting with Risabae as she does his make up and making her all flustered…. i thought, hmm 🤔that’s lowkey sooo heeseung coded. (i’m also on a heeseung trip rn so don’t at me okay) reblog and comment so i know that i’m not just here alone losing my mind.

🎀taglist: No pressure to you beautiful flowers to read at all! I love youuuu🌷💝 @heegyukeluv @fatherwound @str8ykids @twancingyunhao @nctrenjunie @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @hansungie01 @jadedxfemme (let me know if you want to be tagged for future chapters)

chapter 1 >> chapter 2 || m a s t e r l i s t .

chapter one.

when you enter the building, even though you were warned a week prior that you’d be doing some content work with a very popular boy group idol, you’re still overwhelmed by the halted stampede of fans screaming for the member who you’ll be collaborating with.

there’s colorful handmade signs of enhypen and you’re able to narrow down that you’re probably going to work with one of the english speaking members. considering that you’re a mua from overseas, your audience is geared towards the international audience anyways. assuming that you’ll work on either jay or jake was not far from likely.

as your staff continues to adjust and set up, you hurry to the mirror to check if your makeup looks decent enough to face an idol. you figured that this one would be slightly more challenging considering that you’ve only filmed makeup videos with female celebrities… a male idol was going to be… different to say the very least.

on cue, as soon as you finish touching up the natural wing on the corner of your eyes. a group of staff begin to enter and crowd around the entrance. You could basically hear the wall of high pitched roars coming from outside the building.

someone on the phone with a black mask strides through the room looking around before his eyes meet yours. they light up and he quickly races towards you. his outfit is quite bland and his hair is severly bare of any product so you assume that this is the manager.

“y/n! So sorry that we’re late!” The man with the mask greets apologetically.

“no worries. we aren’t broadcasting live or anything like that. if it means anything, I was also running behind.” Your voice is calm and smooth which visibly calms the neurotic manager.

then he walks in.

not jake.

not even jay.

heeseung.

lee heeseung.

the lee heeseung.

your heart drops. your childhood crush has walked into the building and is now going to be seated in front of you for the next few hours. while you touch their face and make him look more and more perfect

it’s insane how attractive he’s gotten over the decade that you’ve last seen him. any makeup that you could add onto his face would only be adding to perfection. now you’re running through all the techniques and shades that would match his warm toned skin.

his soft tenor greets all the other mua’s before finally landing in front of you. you doubt that he even remembers you, his facial expression makes no distinction of any recognition.

“Hello. It’s a pleasure to get to work with you y/n. I watch your videos all the time.” He compliments smoothly.

you pass off your thoughts as a thing of the past as soon as he greets you and immediately slip into your youtube personality. “Oh, i’m so honored! I’m a huge fan of enhypen and it’s such an honor to meet you! i look forward to working on you~”

his brow twitches up as you speak and the smile that slowly spreads on his face makes your body take a visceral screenshot.

“i can’t wait.” his voice is deeper than you remember.

he tilts one side of his lips up into what looks like a smirk before strolling off. you instantly make yourself busy and begin to gather all the skin care products and the make up supplies that you’re planning on using for the video.

“We are going for a dark vampire concept for this makeup look to match with the theme of enhypen’s new comeback in a few months. if we like the outcome of today, we’ll pay to higher you as temporary staff if you would like to join for their usa tour.” one of the important looking women from his team starts to inform you while you roll in all the skincare and makeup. “We just ask that for this video, you make it seem like the vampire concept is purely your idea.”

you oblige and nod. “Of course. I will do my best to show you what i can do.”

heeseung is seated in front of his manager as he washes his face clean.

you nearly drop the brushes that you’re organizing when he makes eye contact with you from all the way across the room. It’s the fact that when you drop your gaze, you don’t notice heeseung chuckling from your transparent reactions.

pull yourself together. you’re the charming makeup artist that men constantly fall for! it can’t be the other way around!

you suck in a breath to gather your composure.

“Cameras and lights ready… roll!”

you start your intro and smile brightly at the camera.

heeseung’s leaned up against the table right behind the tripod, waiting intently for you to introduce him.

heeseung’s eyes bore into you as you speed through your video intro and sponsorships. your hands fly up and gesture through your words. not knowing that heeseung could tell just from your erratic movements that you look more nervous here than you do in your usual videos.

he presence was clearly making you nervous.

“and soo…. I was contemplating on what makeup look I would like to show you all today. after a few pinterest boards later… I decided that i’ll be teaching you a sexy vampire look! And our special guest today will steal a million hearts with this look —will be none other than Enhypen's most charming and talented Heeseung!”

and right on cue, heeseung slowly slides into frame and waves. “hello, y/n.” he bows his head slightly towards you then turns to the camera. “Hello subcribers and engene! i hope you enjoy the video today!”

“Thank you for coming Heeseung-ssi. I can—”

“Just Heeseung is fine.” He interjects with those bambi eyes staring straight into your soul. Those same innocent looking eyes that once stared into yours a few years ago have only matured with age.

Your mouth is still hung open from having been interrupted by him. “Ah, no, no. Engene will flood the comments asking why I’m being so rude!”

He smiles gently before gazing toward the camera. “Engene, will understand… Won’t you? Engene has been requesting for so long that I appear on y/n’s channel for a collab, so I hope we can give you the content you’ve been waiting for.” For some reason his gaze directly toward the camera is mesmerizing. So mesmerizing that when he flits his eyes your way, you feel how intense his gaze was. It’s a good thing you're angled away from the camera so your facial expressions are somewhat hidden. “Plus, didn’t you tell me that you’re also my Engene when we saw each other earlier?”

A few gasps from the staff off camera and one also escaping you as well. He doesn’t take back his words even after the room’s reaction.

My Engene…

His eyes stay glued to yours. Expecting you to say something.

“Oh wow. put me on blast, huh? I uh, yes. I did.” You press your lips together before inhaling through your nose. You take this moment to rip your eyes from his gaze and face the camera with a smile. “I am a very big fan of enhypen, so this is also very exciting for me~”

“Well then, y/n.” He adjusts back into his chair. “I’m all yours.”

Another set of gasps but this time more excited giggles in between.

You quickly gaze over your products and start explaining how you’re going to work on his skincare base. While you do so, because of the way you film your content, you start to talk to your special guest. “So I hear that you enjoy producing and directing your team while recording your songs… Tell me about that.”

For the first time today, Hesseung looks shocked but still maintains the same unreadable smile on his face. “Ha, I didn’t think you knew much about me.”

“I do my research and like to keep up.” You interject playfully.

He doesnt seem to be interested in answering your question which throws you off but not as much as when he asks this. “Who’s your favorite?”

You.

“Um, I can’t choose! All of you are so talented.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes knowingly. “Don’t lie.”

“Well, if you’re asking me..” But you lie anyway. “Jay is kinda…”

Heeseung takes a moment to stare at you while scanning your eyes before he scoffs. His tongue pokes the side of his cheek as he chuckles. “Huh. I see. How do you know so much about me then if your so-called favorite is my friend Jay?”

Two female staff members hit each other on the arm as they don’t even try to contain their facial expressions.

“Uh,” You smile nervously. He’s coming on so strong that you aren’t even sure how to combat it… “You never answered my question...”

“I like watching people improve and the process of how songs come together.” He doesn’t miss a beat.

“I can imagine you’re more interested in how every little piece in creating a song works together, considering you were basically teaching and leading everyone during I-land.”

Heeseung’s brow twitches up again. Unable to hide the amusement on his face. “Wow. You’re good, y/n.”

“May I?” You ask while rubbing your fingers together to spread the serum around your fingers. Trying to cut the intense atmosphere between the two of you.

“Go ahead.” Rather than leaning forward or even sitting up straight, Heeseung leans back slightly into the chair not even bothering breaking eye contact with you.

Your upper thigh inadvertently brushes up against his knee. Immediately sending butterflies through your stomach while your fingers smooth the product into his plump, bare skin. “So Jay, huh?”

Does this guy not know how to move on???

“I uh-“

“I technically wanted to be on your channel first.” He interrupts again. “That must count for something, no?”

really. what was this dude trying to do?? make your heart stop and completely jump out of your chest?

“It just means that I’m doing my job well.” You smile in return. Doing your best at this point to counter any other approach he attempts in making you falter in 4k. In front of the staff. In front of your thousands of your followers.

After applying the cooler toned foundation for the vampire base you turn to the camera and in youtuber-esque fashion, you instruct the audience as you’ve always done. “Since I associate vampires as synonymous to the grunge/goth look, we’re applying a little bit of those techniques onto a blended and natural base.”

“So… when are you going to mention our history?” Heeseung blindsides you again for the nth time today.

Your producer almost spits out her coffee. Now the entire studio is watching with serious amusement. Most of the other makeup artists have stopped to observe.

“Our what?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me.”

You, in fact, did.

What floors you more is, the entire time while you were trying to maintain professionalism, He was fishing for any sign that you recognized him.

What a cocky asshole.

You inadvertently recall your last interactions with him.

*** 10 years prior***

The bus buckles with every bump and pothole.

Your heart has been racing ever since the most attractive boy in school plopped into the seat next to you. You knew the bus ride would take quite a bit, so you mentally hype yourself up in your head to speak the best korean that’s ever left your mouth.

To your surprise, He speaks English fairly well. “Hi y/n. You don’t mind that I sit here next to you?”

“No, not at all.” You manage to squeak out before turning to press yourself into the window. So much for showing off your Korean skills.

“Cool.” He takes one earbud out of his ear and holds it out to you. “Want to listen?”

“Oh, um sure.” You pluck the earbud from his fingers and smile shyly. Trying not to tangle the earbud wires.

“Have you always been this quiet?” He curiously asks after the song ends. “You always hang out with a lot of people so I figured that you talked a lot.”

You did. With people that you were comfortable with. Not with people that you were completely head over heels for.

Yes. You were popular. But you could only accredit the international student status for that.

Your entire time here has been secretly admiring Lee Heeseung from afar.

Just like all the other girls that have admired him. You were just one of the many names and faces that are lined up on that imaginary list.

“We haven’t exactly talked before. So it’s hard to be myself if I don’t know you.”

“Good point.” Heeseung lifts a brow and then sticks his hand out the ol’ american way. “I’m Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.”

“I’m-“

“I know who you are, Miss Popular.” Heeseung smiles, enthusiastically. “Every boy here has a crush on you.”

“Not every boy—“ You start to feel your face get warm while your hands start to sweat. Because the only boy that would matter in that statement is speaking to you right now.

“No. Every boy.” Heeseung scrolls on his phone to find another song. He isn’t even looking up when he adds: “Including me.”

Is the emergency exit near by?

*** back to present time ***

“I didn’t think you remembered…” You blink at him as the smug look that creeps onto his face–continuing to give you heart palpitations. “That was soo long ago, Heeseung.”

Heeseung turns his head to the camera while pressing his lips into a line. Only holding your gaze for another hour long second before his eyes follow. “For those who are confused, y/n and i go wayyy back.” He claps his hands together and tilts his head. “She rejected me 10 years ago when she was an exchange student at my school for our liberal arts program.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t reject you.” A familiar warmth meets your cheeks and you want to crawl under a rock.

“You told me and I quote: “You aren’t exactly my type, I’m sorry.” While we sat together, on the bus ride for a museum field trip.” Heeseung snaps his head back to the audience, deadpanning the camera. “Longest 2 hours of my life.”

Your manager, Rose, has the biggest smile on her face. This was definitely going to pull in the viewers.

“Well after all these years… I suppose Jay being more your type is a better explanation over nothing.” Heeseung tilts his head in your direction with what seems like a bored expression. “Still, doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Far from that. “We weren’t going to work out if I had accepted your confession, I was leaving Korea one week from that point.”

“So if you had stayed longer, you might’ve had a different answer?” He leans forward a bit more intrigued. Someone grab the noose. “What I’m hearing is, you do remember and that you only rejected me because you were leaving?”

“I didn’t think the possibility of long distance would work out…” You stop blending out the rouge eye shadow from the corner of his lid. “Plus. We were 13…”

“Okay then. That’s fair.” Heeseung sits back into the chair. “What about now?”

”What do you mean “now”?” Your brow furrows with confusion. Consider your entire youtube personality dropped at this point.

“The possibility.”

“Of long distance?”

“Of being my girlfriend.”

Jaw? Passed the floor— In the center of the earth. Does this man have no filter?

His manager, of all times that he could’ve cut in, chooses now to cause a ruckus. “Woah woah! Aha! Let's pause right here for now!” He laughs nervously while moving his shoulder into the frame to ruin the shot.

Already, your coworkers have their phones in hand while rapidly blowing up the group chat. You knew that you’d probably never hear the end of it.

Heeseung’s unfinished makeup look and facial expression hasn’t changed considering he’s still looking evenly at you for your answer. “Well?”

“I can’t say.” You put the eyeshadow brush down. Now more frustrated that the attention has shifted from the content of the video to the content of your personal life. Which was already nonexistent to begin with. “I don’t know you personally. Nor do I even have the desire to get to know you now.”

“Oh?” He blinks into a shocked expression, his lips slightly tilting up into a half amused smirk. The corner of his brow curving in question. “Not even after you specifically told me that you’re a huge fan of enhypen?”

How dare he? You weren’t going to let this be out of your control. This was your channel. Your content was what made you so successful now.

“What—”You take a huge step back. You aren’t counting the seconds of silence that you take before making sure to round your shoulders to face the entire team. “….I need 20 minutes, please.”

The restroom is only a short reprieve.

You aren’t sure if it was the loud fans in the ceilings or if it was simply the hum of your heart racing. One thing was for sure. You would rather hide away in a hole now that Heeseung has put you on blast in front of your entire work place.

Your head wardrobe woman— also your best friend, Olive—rushes in to find you propped over the sink with your fingers brushing through your hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Heeseung from Enhypen??? AND WHY IS HE FLIRTING WITH YOU IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?!?” Olive hushes out with complete fantic excitement before she, like a good friend should; acknowledges how stressed you look. “Did you just throw up?”

“ THERE WAS NOTHING TO KNOW OR TELL ABOUT. I DONT KNOW. AND I’M ABOUT TO. SO PLEASE LEAVE.” You hush yell back in the order of her questions. Sort of grounding yourself as Olive places a supportive hand over your lower back. Not actually throwing up but on the verge of a small anxiety attack.

Olive knows better than to listen to you while you try to push her away. “I saw pictures from the group chat. Do you even notice how this man is looking at you?”

Your friend swipes into the group chat and shows you the screen.

It’s a stolen shot from earlier when you were applying skincare onto his face. Heeseung’s deep brown eyes gaze so intensely into yours that you can't believe you’re seeing it in 3rd person. The image doesn’t even capture how nervous you were feeling on the inside.

“Why he kinda….” Olive takes the screen back and looks over the image again with her bottom lip caught in her teeth. “He looks like he wants to eat you up and—”

“Olive. Stop. talking.” You say in a way that makes her laugh from your reaction.

“You are totally into it.” Olive stabs at your side. “You got this way with Wooyoung when he was coming onto you hella strong after that one video you did with ATEEZ.”

“That’s different. He was flirting because he didn’t know me. This?” You point to her phone. “is coming from a man that I rejected when he was a boy.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Like 10 years ago.”

“Oh… He needs to build a bridge and get over it.” Olive slides the phone into her pocket while shaking her head. “Well, if it’s any consolation girl, I cleared the room to limited staff. I don’t want you to have prying eyes when you finish out this shoot.”

You couldn’t be more grateful for the kind of friendship that you and Olive have developed over the years of working together. “You’re the best.”

“Is it alright if I ask how exactly you rejected the Enhypen’s, Lee Heeseung?”

“Honestly… He hasn’t changed much since we went to school together.” You shake your head. “He’s just gotten better at it…anyway, I only rejected him because I knew that if I said anything about my crush on him… I’d be heartbroken on my way back home to America. At the time, I thought it was better that I told him that he wasn’t my type. It was the first excuse that I could think of.”

“Don’t tell me that you lied to that man again about how you feel.”

You had two routes to pick from. The serious one. Or the brain rot tik tok one.

“And I’d do it again!” You quote.

Olive rolls her eyes while laughing then aids you to move, patting your hip. “Girl, get back in there. Heeseung’s waiting.”

You glare at her playfully before gazing at the mirror to check your appearance. Your face has restored to its natural color and you can see that having a moment to yourself has done wonders to your nerves. “Fine. But this time. No more breaks..”

Your new resolve is to complete this video without any more hitches to the process.

By the time you make it back into the studio. You can see that most staff that weren’t directly involved in the process of this video have magically cleared the room. Leaving Heeseung’s staff and your closely trusted staff behind. Olive has joined the production team in making sure that things are in order, more so for your mental health, and in support of her best friend.

Heeseung is propped against a wall as his manager seemingly looks like a complete wreck. No doubt caused by Heeseung’s unhinged behavior.

You stride confidently toward the two men and address them with the same professional, youtuber tone. “Ready to continue shooting?”

“Back for me so soon?” Heeseung’s eyes flicker with amusement, somewhat always laced with a smug smirk that hides underneath his neutral expression. “Are you ready, y/n?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good.” Heeseung brushes past you and makes his way over to his designated chair.

Olive makes eye contact with you as a playful twitch of her brow gives you a bit more courage now that she was there in support.

His makeup look is halfway done and even with its imperfections you can see the vision coming together. This was going to be the best look you’ve done so far.

Heeseung has seemed to tone down his approach. Not sure if you’re exactly comfortable with his lack of brazenness. Though, you’re able to complete the eye look. You admit to yourself that it was easier this time with his eyes being closed for about 10 minutes.

In between explaining how you’re going about the look and what products to use. You find small opportunities to really analyze each curve of his face and how much has changed in his features in the past 10 years.

The small, skinny boy that you once remembered during your short time as an exchange student, has become a man. An attractive and insanely flirtatious one, at that.

“Alright. Let's get a good look at your eyes.” You prompt after brushing on some highlight right against his brow bone.

His eyes are still closed. It takes another beat to realize that he’s drifted off to sleep. A new feeling bubbles in your chest when you start to worry about how much sleep this man has gotten. You witness all the time in this industry, the reality of how little rest an idol gets despite how much they are required to perform and appear on live media.

“Heeseung…” You call gently before you hear a loud clap that startles you and the sleeping idol.

He shudders and his eyes droop a bit from how tired he is. “My bad.” For the first time he looks slightly embarrassed. “You have a very gentle hand. I was completely relaxed.”

“Happens. That’s alright.” Even you’re surprised with the gentle tone that you take on. With a slight hesitation. Then a moment for Heeseung to sit up and shake himself awake. Your hands gesture toward the main camera.

You take a step back to admire your work and move from the frame to allow your team to take multiple angled shots of your detailed eye look. The deep reds effortlessly blend into the espresso brown crease. The liner is complemented well against the shape of his full eyes. The colored contacts add to the fantasy effect that you were looking for. Only the slightest brushes of highlight over the higher points of his face.

The last thing to do, if not done tastefully — his lips.

“Now that we have the vampy eye look on...” You hold the products that you’ll be using up to the camera. “No vampire look is complete without wine red lips to match!”

You go in with a deep wine red and dab the product skillfully towards the center of his lips and slightly blend out to create almost a freshly sipped wine effect. “Like a vampire drinking fresh blood from a helpless victim!” You comically add to the camera.

This whole time Heeseung is quietly observing you and scanning your features as well. His lips bounce with every tap and you can’t help but feel a shudder through your spine when the tip of your pinky brushes slightly against his soft skin.

How would it feel to kiss his lips— Oh my god.

His eyes follow yours. He’s caught you staring at his lips.

Yet. He doesn’t say anything.

If eyes could speak. His eyes would tell you a million reasons why you should lean forward and steal a kiss right here, right now. In front of your entire team. In front of a million subscribers to view once everything’s edited.

He looks enchanting. An actual vampire waiting to pounce and take from you what belongs to him. His eyes scan from your lips then slowly right back to your eyes.

You aren’t sure why but you’re holding your breath.

The moment breaks - someone from the production team comes into the frame holding up a dark outfit to complete the look.

Your manager, Rose, who’s somehow managed to remain quiet this entire time with Olive whispering into her ear, brushes her shoulder against you as Heeseung takes the top and moves to the changing room. “They want to hire you to be enhypen’s lead makeup artist for their US tour.”

Her tone is coated in hushed excitement which causes your heart to race. This was a huge deal especially for a youtube makeup enthusiast who started out in her dorm, recording on her iphone propped up by her english textbooks. Something as incredible as a lead kpop idol makeup artist to add to your portfolio. For Enhypen to be exact.

Just one problem.

On the long list of problems that don’t even start with make up.

One named: Lee Heeseung.

“Why aren’t you excited?” Rose frowns, nudging your arm with her elbow. “You have been such a self made and well liked youtuber for the past 4 years! Your subscribers would love to watch you take on a new adventure.”

“I know.” You sigh. Shifting your weight between your feet while fidgeting with a lip tint that’s still in your grasp. “It’s just… spending so much time with…”

“With Heeseung?” Rose sighs with a knowing smile on her face. “I wasn’t aware that you still liked him.”

“What?” Immediately you dial back and stare at her in complete offense. “I don’t.”

“Girl, you wouldn’t react like that unless you did.” Olive butts in, on the other side of you.

“You can say no.” Rose chimes.

“Yeah, You can totally say no to doing the job.” Olive agrees.

“You say no, and lose the opportunity of a lifetime though.” Rose counters.

“And would be on you, Boo.” Olive nods. Nudging your arm again once Heeseung comes out of the changing room.

Fully clothed and perfect.

His tall frame almost brings his head to touch the top of the doorway. Broad shoulders filling out the tailored jacket around his torso paired with long slender legs clad in form fitting slacks. His larger hands move up to adjust his hair that's now slicked back and styled to suit the look. Silver jewelry adorns his gently tanned neck and wrists. The rings— oh god. The rings. Adorned beautifully over his long, slender fingers- emphasizing his veiny hands...

“Wow.” You find yourself vocalizing quietly to yourself. “I might consider.”

“Get used to that.” Rose whistles, while pulling Olive away so that you can have space to move around the camera.

Heeseung makes his way toward you. You’re not sure how the hour transformed Heeseung into someone more gentle… But he seems more tentative and cooperative with you during these final shots.

You grab a blending sponge and go to dab some spots of concealer that hasn’t entirely blurred into his skin. Up close and personal with his body, you can practically drown in his cologne. The smell of a musky, sweet ocean invades your senses and you can’t stop yourself from taking long breaths in.

“Will you accept?” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

“Huh?” You blink, still drunk from his scent.

Heeseung chuckles, turning his head away to seemingly hide his smile from you. “Will you join us for the tour or are you that uninterested in me to actually decline the offer?”

“I wouldn’t use you as an excuse to say no.” You point out, moving your hand back and tossing the sponge back into your tray. “I know a great opportunity when I see one.”

“Good. Your talent should be seen by everyone.” Heeseung tilts his head, getting to your level. “Especially on a face that’s seen everywhere.”

He winks before striding back over to his chair. You’re almost impressed by how braisen he is but you can’t find yourself to be shocked anymore. if you were going to get used to seeing his face you were going to have to desensitize yourself to his charm. despite how attracted you are to him.

The last part of the shoot didn’t require much effort now considering Heeseung’s a literal natural in front of the camera. Yet, you didn’t expect any less.

Even while knowing him from primary school, he shined the brightest amongst the most talented students. You are almost proud of him for getting as far as he has. You would catch him working hard in the practice rooms, playing piano and singing along to all the new songs. Determination at its finest. The fruit of his labor. The success of enhypen. He came such a long way.

“Last closing remarks and we should be good to end the shoot!” Your lead director throws out for the room to hear.

Heeseung, somehow ends up next to you. You weren’t sure he got there but you imagine that thinking about your intertwined past might have caused you to space out a little.

His arm brushes yours. “You have an iphone?.” He mutters barely loud enough for you to hear..

“What?” You don’t believe you heard him correctly.

“For facetime.” He doesn’t explain. “Take my number. This is my personal phone.”

You look down and see that he’s passed you a small piece of paper.

“Aren’t you a Samsung ambassador?” You remember seeing videos of all the members only accepting Samsung phones to hold from their fans.

He chuckles, bringing a finger up to his lips. “Shh.”

This makes you laugh. Pocketing the piece of paper into your small jean pocket.

“You know,” Heeseung tilts his body down so you could hear him better above the noise of your staff moving things around. “I’m proud of what you made for yourself. I knew you'd make a name for yourself.”

His words are flattering and almost nostalgic. You try to slow your breathing in order to sound calm when you say,

“I could say the same and even more for you, Ace.”

* * *

He smiles at his long lasting nickname. He was called Ace long before he had joined the company as a trainee.

Yet, coming from you?

His heart begins to race as it floods with the memories of his juvenile crush.

To him. You didn't just change. You evolved into someone he could match. Someone who would understand his world.

And even though he only saw it on screen these past years, he wasn't going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers-again.

* * *

chapter 1 >> chapter 2 || m a s t e r l i s t .

m i k a 🌷: AHHH! after such a huge slump in writing and actually posting on this account, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! let me know what you think lovelies!!

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whowritessometimes · 1 year ago

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Back and Forth - Art Donaldson x Reader

A Stanford!Art Donaldson and Stanford!Reader fic :) Kinda slow burn, very soft very sweet.

Word Count: 3.9k

---

The California summer sun beamed down on the court, making the colors of the advertisements and signs around you appear almost neon. Upbeat music flowed through speakers that you couldn't quite place, embodying the feeling of the tennis matches that surrounded you, the back-and-forth beat pulsating through your head. It was almost overstimulating, but this was your normal.

You were pre-med at Stanford, volunteering at some local tennis camp to fill your summer and add fodder to your resume. You didn't do much, occasionally helping some rich, pompous kid stretch out their wrist, or their knee, or their ankle, or whatever. The days blurred together, they all spoke to you in the same condescending way. For most people, it would be mind-numbing.

But it was exhilarating. You had this intrinsic love for tennis, you always had. Perhaps it was that love that led you to signing up for this gig, and not the resume experience. But you would never admit that to anyone. You had played tennis for fun your whole life, with your family growing up, with your friends in high school. It was only when you shattered your wrist sophomore year that you had to stop.

It sucked. It sucked at the time, and it sucked now. You weren't professional-level at tennis, not like these people, but it was nice to have a hobby unlike anything else people expected you to do. The pre-med thing, the reading, the studying, it came naturally to you. And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, and it wasn't like you weren't good at it, but you loved tennis. And every now and again, you missed it.

So here you were. Your head followed all the heads in the crowd in a practiced, synchronized, subconscious back-and-forth. There wasn't really ever a crowd, the games at the program were often informal, the audience often consisted of coaches and other players. But this was a unique match, Stanford's players engaged in a captivating display of athleticism. It was almost like a dance, the way they seemed to know the moves of the other before they made them. You could feel the intensity from your tent by the end of the bleachers.

Stanford's star player (well, one of them)—Art Donaldson. You'd half-watched him play from your tent whenever you weren't working. He was elusive, but undoubtably one of the best there. You had never spoken. He was enigmatic, focused on his training and on helping others. He had perfect technique, people said. Now, you had the chance to really see how he was. And he was. Top of his game.

Usually.

The air was thick with humidity. Your gaze flickered between the players, boredom warring with the gnawing anxiety that always hummed beneath the surface during matches. Then, a sound sliced through the rhythmic thwack of the tennis balls—a sharp cry of pain.

Your head snapped left like a whip, your heart leaping into your throat. There, sprawled on the opposite side of the net, lay Art. His face was contorted in agony, one hand clutching his ankle at an unnatural angle. His racket lay a few feet away, as forgotten as the polite pleasantries that had filled the air before the match.

The shitty plastic chair beneath you creaked in protest as you scrambled to your feet. Ignoring the surprised yelp from the equally shitty excuse for a supervisor you'd been assigned for the summer tennis program, you sprinted across the court. Dust billowed in your wake, blurring the vision that was already swimming with a mix of dread and the adrenaline rush that always came with seeing someone hurt.

You skidded to a halt beside him, kneeling. His eyes, usually bright with playful competitiveness, were screwed shut, teeth clenched as he fought back a string of obscenities you knew all too well.

"Hey," you said, forcing your voice to remain calm despite the tremor running through your body. He flinched at the sound of your voice, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing his normally confident expression.

"Hey," he managed to rasp out, opening one eye a sliver. He tried to push himself up, but his face crumpled again as a fresh wave of agony shot through him.

"Don't move," you ordered, the calmness in your voice surprising even you. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was slick with sweat, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from his injured ankle.

"'S bad, huh?" he breathed, a flicker of vulnerability in his voice.

The concern in his eyes sent a jolt through you. It wasn't just the pain; it was the fear.

"Don't worry," you said, your voice softer now, "We'll get you checked out. Just...hold still."

Ignoring the sting of sweat in your eyes, you carefully slipped your arm around his waist, offering what little support your slight frame could provide. Heaving him halfway onto your leg, you began the slow, agonizing walk towards the medical tent. Each step sent a spike of pain through Art's leg, reflected in the way he gritted his teeth and winced with every movement.

The supervisor, finally spurred into action, scurried behind you, muttering something about ice packs and paramedics. But your focus remained solely on Art, on getting him to help as quickly as possible.

You knew what it was like. Maybe that's what spurred your immediate action, your need to help him recover, to keep playing. You knew what it was like.

The antiseptic sting of the medical tent assaulted your nose as you hovered beside the injured player. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he clenched his jaw with each prod from the trainer.

"Think they all saw that?" he finally rasped, a hint of amusement battling the pain in his voice. You blinked, surprised by his oddly timed humor.

"Doubt it," you played along, a small smile tugging at your lips. "'S not like you're Art Donaldson or anything."

A sheepish grin replaced his grimace. "Thank god."

The trainer finished his work, leaving you and the injured player alone in a tense silence. He cleared his throat, his gaze meeting yours for the first time.

"So," he began, trailing off as he stared into the ceiling of the tent. There was something in his expression, the physical pain, the fear that comes with injury, the odd quiet of an unfinished game.

"So," you mimicked, sitting next to him in another shitty chair.

Something hung in the air, something all too familiar to you. He turned his head to look at you, to make eye contact, keeping his body flat on the cot. You realized then how close you were. Close enough to see his eyes, the sharp point of his jawline, the strawberry blond of his curls.

You averted your gaze, looking out into the brightness of the tent entrance. The typical ambiance of the outside seemed to be drowned by the odd intimacy you'd created together, the silence between you and Art seemed to be the only noise you could hear. His shoddy breathing, despite his attempts to pretend he was okay, only brought you back to when you felt the same way he did, all those years ago.

A blush crept up your neck. You fumbled for something, anything, to break the charged silence in the tent. "I, uh, broke my wrist sophomore year," you blurted, surprised by the words leaving your lips. "Tennis, ironically. One minute I'm playing—probably terribly—and then I'm in the ER holding a bag of frozen peas. And, I don't know, I guess I'm just saying... I get it. Sort of."

"You trying to distract me?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you admitted, a hesitant smile mirroring his. "Is it working?"

"Yeah, actually," he conceded, leaning back on the cot. "Tell me more."

You felt a genuine laugh bubble up from your chest, the first since the moment you saw him crumpled on the court.

---

And that was really the last time you saw Art. Suffice to say you hadn't forgotten about the encounter. It was actually stupid, how often you thought of it. He didn't even know your name, but you remembered the timbre of his voice, the softness of his gaze.

In your defense, he was hard to avoid. Now that the spring semester had started, tennis season was in full swing. His picture was plastered around the most of the facilities you frequented, future NCAA champion Art Donaldson.

The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming jasmine hung heavy in the crisp California air as you hurried across the bustling Stanford campus. The semester had sprung with a vengeance, bringing with it the usual flurry of activity—overloaded backpacks, animated discussions about last night's party, and the ever-present anxiety of looming deadlines.

Today, however, an extra weight sat on your shoulders. Your pre-med advisor dropped a last-minute surprise: mandatory tutoring for a struggling athlete. Juggling med school coursework with a part-time job at the campus health center was already a tightrope walk, and adding this felt like a precarious extra step. But you managed it, as you did most things. How you had some semblance of a social life was a mystery. And maybe your very obvious lack of a love life was why you thought about Art so often. You didn't have time to psychoanalyze yourself, though. You barely had time for whatever this tutoring session was about to be.

Reaching the designated classroom, a small, windowless space usually reserved for last-minute group study sessions, you took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy door. The sterile light inside momentarily blinded you, but as your eyes adjusted, a sight unfolded that caused your breath to hitch in your throat. Sprawled across a cluttered table, papers piled haphazardly around him, was a man who you'd spent the better part of the last few months thinking about.

There, unmistakably, was Art. His signature strawberry blond hair, slightly longer than you remembered, covered with a backwards baseball cap, curled at the edges, framing his face. A deep furrow creased his brow, a testament to the frustration radiating from his hunched form as he focused on a massive biology textbook. An unsettling warmth bloomed in your chest, a reaction entirely too potent for a tutoring session.

The memory of him sprawled on the opposite side of the tennis court last summer, his ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, flickered across your mind. The panic that had gripped you then seemed almost comical now. The sterile environment and the way his eyes had held a curious blend of pain and something else—gratitude, maybe?—all formed a vivid memory you hadn't realized had imprinted itself so deeply.

His presence filled the small room, unexpectedly stealing your breath and injecting a jolt of something entirely different into the monotonous routine of your day. A shyness spread across your face, tinged with an unfamiliar nervousness as you cleared your throat, the sound echoing awkwardly in the sudden silence.

A slow smile took over his features as he looked at you, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you were caught in that smile, a memory resurfacing from the hazy days of summer.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm. He reached a toned arm, pulling out a chair for you.

"Hi," you blinked, momentarily flustered by the gesture and the echo of familiarity in his voice. There was a moment of tension in the air, of uncertainty, of a strange sense of reconnection. Finally, you managed to force out the words, "How are you?"

"My ankle's a lot better now, if that's what you're asking," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, making you hyperaware of the way your heart hammered against your ribs.

"You remember me?" you blurted out, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it.

"Course I remember you," he said, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn't ignore the way his eyes flickered from your face down to your body, and back up. Blatantly checking you out. And you could hear his smile in the way he spoke, warm and genuine, sending a familiar flutter through your stomach. The memory of his teasing laughter in the sterile medical tent resurfaced.

"Right," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You shifted in your chair, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of his gaze on you.

The next hour or so unfolded in a way that surprised you both. Art's initial confusion melted away as you hovered next to him, animatedly explaining each concept. Social life, love life, Art Donaldson, you couldn't explain. Biology, medical stuff, sports, you understood.

And he was beginning to as well. Time became a forgotten entity, measured only by the turning of pages and the occasional frustrated groan from Art. He wasn't the cocky athlete you'd half-imagined, but someone with a genuine curiosity about the world around him and some kind of depth hidden beneath his confident facade on the court.

Finally, Art leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "We should probably call it," he declared, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. He thanked you, looking into your eyes as he said your name, the syllables dancing off his tongue in a way that made you feel like it was more than a word you had offhandedly mentioned to him.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

The study sessions became a regular occurrence. The two of you exchanged numbers, only to arrange meetings, you reminded yourself.

But whenever he called, you found yourself talking about so much more than biology. It started with him asking how you were, a simple courtesy that somehow felt more genuine coming from him. Yet, as you replied, a comfortable ease would settle in. You'd find yourself laughing at inside jokes, dumb stories, the kind that wouldn't be particularly funny to anyone else, would mindlessly tumble out, fueled by the comfort you felt in his presence. It was a kind of nonsense, a space where you could just be yourself, and somehow, it felt like everything and nothing all at once.

---

Now, it was late, and it was finals week.

Papers and textbooks were scattered across your desk, a battlefield of scribbled notes and highlighted passages. You were in the trenches, neck-deep in the intricacies of biochemistry, desperately trying to cram information into your sleep-deprived brain.

Suddenly, the familiar buzz of your phone cut through the silence of your cramped dorm. You fished it out of your pocket, a flicker of annoyance battling with the ever-present hope that it might be a break, a distraction from the relentless onslaught of scientific jargon. Gratefulness shot through you when you saw Art Donaldson's name on the screen.

You answered the call. His voice crackled through the phone, laced with desperation. "I need your help," he blurted out, completely unlike his usual easygoing self. "What the fuck is molecular cell biology?"

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "In general?" you replied, already picturing the hours that it would take to explain the subject. Finals be damned, apparently.

"Can you just come over?" he groaned. "If you aren't doing anything."

You glanced back at the flashcards on your desk. "I'm not doing anything."

So here you were, knocking on the door of Art Donaldson's dorm. You heard rustling from the other side, making you wait just a beat longer in the dimly lit hallway. You rocked back and forth on your heels, chewing the inside of your cheek and rethinking your current appearance. The oversized Stanford hoodie, mess of your hair, and lack of makeup now seemed ill-fitting for a meeting with the boy who had somehow winded his way into becoming your crush. You felt like a kid again, back in high school.

You were starting to worry you had the wrong room until the door swung open, bathing the hallway in a golden, hazy light. There stood Art, moving his large frame out of the way to gesture you into his room with a short greeting and a "thank god." You didn't know what you expected, really, but there you were, slinking a little too closely past him as he stood in his doorframe. You felt his breath on the back of your neck as he stood behind you, guiding you to his tiny desk in the corner of the room. His hands ghosted over the small of your back, and you felt his warmth, despite him not actually touching you.

The room itself was small. It wasn't unlike yours, or any of the others on campus. But it somehow felt smaller with Art next to you, burying his face in his hands every time you patiently explained a concept you'd gone over already. His face. He was so close to you now, the quiet of the night and the room only making you feel closer.

The energy of this study session felt so different from all your others in the past. You weren't in a classroom, or meeting him after practice in the library. You were seeing another side of Art, the part of himself he didn't publicize. Every freckle, the stretch of his faded t-shirt over his body, the curls he brushed out of his eyes every now and again, the way he flexed his callused hands as he cracked his knuckles, a nervous fidget.

It felt like time slowed down. You labored over the biology textbook, finding practice questions and asking him some of your own. You were gentle, cautious. Maybe it was the weird intimacy of the moment, maybe it was the lack of air in the cramped dorm. Your voice was soft, and you couldn't help but notice how the tension Art held over the phone and when you entered the room melted away. Did you do that? You felt this reciprocation, possibly imagined. But whenever you cracked a dumb joke, he'd laugh and put a hand on your arm. The contact always made you freeze. The touch was a reminder he was real, he was tangible. Every fleeting gaze, every smile in your direction.

You had almost reached the end of the chapter, and Art was getting almost every practice question right. You fidgeted with a sheet of his messy notes, reading it over to continue some rant you were on about RNA.

"...made up of nucleotides, which are ribose sugars attached to nitrogenous bases and phosphate groups..." You trailed off, looking up from the papers only to find his gaze already on you. How long had he been looking at you? And the way he looked at you...

"Do you want to take a break?" He tilted his head.

You quirked an eyebrow, unable to fight your smile. "Sure."

He got up with an over-exaggerated sigh and stretched his arms over his head, exposing the bottom of his toned abdomen. For a moment. He reached under his desk, pulling out a box of some cheap canned beer. He popped the tab of a can, taking a long draw and passing it to you.

You looked away from his watchful eyes as you took a sip. Your face heated as you took into account the fact you were drinking from the same can he had.

You winced. "God, that tastes like ass."

"Sorry." He laughed, taking the can from you. Warm, callused fingertips brushing against yours.

"I didn't take you for a Steel Reserve kinda guy."

"What did you take me for?"

"I don't know. Gatorade?"

"Okay." He shook his head. "No more for you."

"Wait, wait, okay, I take it back."

He held out the can for you again.

"Mhm."

"Still taste like ass?"

"It tastes like what I imagine WD-40 tastes like."

You felt your heart swell as he laughed at that. You hadn't noticed how the two of you now sat impossibly closer, thighs brushing, shoulders sending sparks whenever they met. The half-empty can of beer felt like a nervous talisman being passed back and forth between you. Dumb jokes tumbled easily from your lips, punctuated by laughter that echoed weirdly loud in the quiet room. Finals week stress had completely evaporated, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the shitty beer.

It was so easy, talking to Art. Easier than it should have been, considering you were explaining the intricacies of cellular respiration to a man who once thought mitochondria were a type of pasta. But he listened, truly listened, his eyes locked on yours. You caught yourself getting lost in their depths, a dizzying kaleidoscope that mirrored the nervousness in your stomach.

He leaned in, as if to hear you better, and you mimicked the movement unconsciously. The space between your faces shrunk, the air thick with unspoken words. His gaze did its familiar dance—right eye, lips, left eye—and this time, it lingered on your lips a beat too long.

A sudden self-consciousness washed over you. Should you pull back? This wasn't your intention. But before you could overthink it, Art's lips were hovering over yours, a question in the way they hovered, hesitant but hopeful.

"This okay?" His voice was impossibly low, breathy, quiet. His eyes raked over your features, eye contact shifting from left to right, back and forth. His hand, warm and calloused came up to cup your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

"Yeah." You breathed.

The kiss, when it came, was soft and unexpected. More of a tentative exploration than a passionate assault. It tasted of desperation and relief, of unspoken feelings finally finding a voice.

Your hands moved from your sides to toy with the curls on the back of his head, earning a barely audible groan from Art. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his other hand moving down to pull you impossibly closer by the small of your waist. His touch was shy, tender.

After what felt like forever (and you wouldn't have minded had it been), you pulled away slowly, breathless, a blush painting your face. His eyes searched yours for some unknown answer. For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged rhythm of your breath.

A slow smile spread across his face, mirroring the one blooming on yours. "God, you're so pretty."

Leaving Art's dorm room felt like navigating a dream. Your head spun, a mix of the cheap beer and the potent aftertaste of the kiss. Your lips still tingled where his had been, a brand new sensation that sent shivers dancing down your spine. Relief, sweet and unexpected, washed over you. Months of stolen glances, late-night calls disguised as study sessions, and a simmering tension that had threatened to consume you—all of it had culminated in that single, electrifying kiss.

As you walked down the quiet hallway, a giddy smile stretched across your face. It wasn't just the kiss itself, though that replayed in your mind in a loop—hesitant, searching, then deepening with a shared sense of discovery. It was the way he'd looked at you afterwards, his eyes soft with unspoken emotions, mirroring the whirlwind in your own chest. A nervous flutter remained in your stomach, a delicious mix of excitement and uncertainty.

But beneath it all, a quiet confidence bloomed. He felt it too. This wasn't just some fleeting moment, a stolen kiss in the dead of night. It was a turning point, a bridge crossed, and the future, once shrouded in the haze of exams and unspoken feelings, now shimmered with possibility.

#art donaldson x reader #mike faist #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x you #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson fic #art donaldson imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you #mike faist imagine

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iamred-iamyellow · 1 year ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Doing Their Makeup

♥ masterlist

♥ headcannons: lewis hamilton, max verstappen, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, lando norris, and logan sargeant

♥ as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: a little bit suggestive !!!

ᡣ𐭩 ʟᴇᴡɪs ʜᴀᴍɪʟᴛᴏɴ - There is not an ounce of toxic masculinity in his body so when you asked to do his makeup he immediately let you. He most likely had some Mercedes PR that day which put his look on display. The fans weren't able to shut up about how glowy his skin was. After this Lewis asked you to do some colorful eye makeup for him whenever he showed up to the paddock (matching the colors of his outfit of course).

ᡣ𐭩 ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀsᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ - I have a feeling he uses a 3 in 1 soap on his face but has the most flawless skin. This meant that he never felt the need to use any makeup or skin care. After you introduced him to a few products like primer, cleansers, and oils he really got into it. As for a standard face of cosmetics he doesn't like the feeling of foundation or eye products. He'll let you practice on his face but the minute you're done he washes it all off.

ᡣ𐭩 ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ - He didn't mind getting his makeup done by you considering he was so used to it when doing promo pictures. After a while he'll start requesting that you practice on him because he loves how the brushes feel on his skin. He's also an absolute sucker for a lip butter or gloss.

ᡣ𐭩 ᴏsᴄᴀʀ ᴘɪᴀsᴛʀɪ - Oscar loves that no make up make up look and probably has a few products of his own! He'll definitely let you teach him things like why setting your makeup is important or the difference between contour and bronzer. He also absolutely adores doing face masks and really any sort of skin care with you.

ᡣ𐭩 ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪs - He wasn't really up for the idea of you practicing new makeup techniques on him but he gave in when you offered to sit on his lap as you did it. He'd buck his hips into yours not realizing that it would totally backfire on him later. The more he teased you the more you wanted revenge. You purposely messed up and smudged the products across his face just to make him look as ridiculous as possible.

ᡣ𐭩 ʟᴏɢᴀɴ sᴀʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ - Alex invited you to do Logan's make up before a team torque episode just to see how he'd respond. Logan was enjoying it much more than he thought he would, but who was surprised that he loved being pampered? It was difficult to spread any foundation on his face due to his stubble but you didn't mind because he looked too good with it.

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gyusimp · 11 months ago

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𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]

ᴹⁱⁿᵒʳˢ ᴰᴺᴵ! | ᔆᵐᵘᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ | ᴬʳᵗ ᵇʸ⠘ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kenji will always be very sweet. No matter how stupid he made you after sex, he will treat you gently and help you get back on your feet. He will clean you up first and then himself and he will be happy to take a shower together if you are okay with it. Although he is a bit of a fussy person so it is 100% certain that he will not go to sleep without changing the sheets for new ones. For your comfort and his, and he might put some air freshener in the air lol.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like Kenji is very proud of his entire body, but especially his arms and torso. Have you seen that broad back? That man is to die for and he knows it, that's why he loves sleeping shirtless and teasing you. As for you, he loves everything about you, but he definitely has a fixation on your thighs and touching your ass whenever he gets the chance.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's open to possibilities as long as you are too. Besides cumming inside you, he likes to do it for some reason where a few drops get on your strands of hair or a few drops run down your collarbones. He has a habit of teasing you by kissing you after taste you, so you'll taste yourself on his lips.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's fantasized about doing things with you in his Ultraman form, why? Because yes. It's really nothing more than a fantasy because not even his pinky finger could fit inside you, but imagining you so small and needy in the palm of his hand has made his thoughts go beyond the limits he thought he knew.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Nothing. Kenji has no prior experience, not even a little. As famous and handsome as he is, we know that he suffered from bullying in his childhood years which affected his social skills so if I can't imagine him with friends, much less having encounters of that kind. His first time with you was an adorable disaster but you took care of making him feel safe always and over time he managed to improve his technique quite a bit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any one where he can see your face but is also addicted to you riding him or if he's too needy he'll let you on top and spread his legs for you to do whatever you want.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on his mood. He usually acts normal but if he wants to tease you or is really excited he might tell a couple of dirty jokes to make you blush.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This man is a total grooming person. I can see a shelf in his shower full of hair products, aftershave, skin moisturizers and all that stuff so yes, Kenji pays attention to detail and if he isn't completely shaved there will always be a neat, impeccable trim. You're never going to see a mess down there. Ever.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

There are times when you two are too horny to get romantic but that doesn't mean it's just sex without love. But, when he's truly focused on making love to you in every sense of the word, he's the most romantic man in the world. He makes you feel like you're on cloud nine with his soft caresses and kisses, his words are so deep that when you both finish, you end up seeing everything in rose-colored glasses and even loving your insecurities after he completely praised you from the bottom of his heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don't see Kenji doing this kind of thing, he's a mature adult and quite busy too so if he ever did it, it was in puberty out of pure curiosity. Now he has you so if he's horny he knows you can always help him and if he's lonely he'll just get moody.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think after taking care of Emi and researching parenting and fatherhood issues he had some praise kinks left, but nothing serious. He doesn't show it anywhere other than the bed and you discovered it little by little on your own when he told you things like how he was eager to fill you with his seed and how excited it made him to think of you carrying his baby in you one day. Whenever you bring it up he doesn't completely deny it but it's because he's a little embarrassed to admit it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nothing like the comfort of his bed or yours but he's open to new places to make it more exciting. Places like his basement or the stadium locker room when the team has left have been the perfect spots for a quickie.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He likes you touching him, your hands are his weakness. Also for some reason when you are dressed up nicely, like clothes he is not used to seeing you in for example a skirt and heels to go to work or a nice dress for an event. He always thinks "is that my girlfriend?" and feels the need to rip your clothes off already.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't agree with the idea of hurting you so he's against BSDM. If you were to ask him to do something related (like asking him to hit you or call you names) he would try to do it at first to fulfill your whim but after a while he would feel uncomfortable and maybe not want to continue. Maybe what he would tolerate a little longer would be to call you names just by seeing your intense reactions and they would be mild words like "slut" or "bitch".

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As I mentioned before, he is inexperienced in person until after a couple of times. He likes to receive but he prefers thousands of times to give. The feeling of your folds against his tongue and your pussy between his lips is indescribable for him. He loves to grab you by the thighs and wrap his arms around your legs while he gets lost between your crotch for hours being blessed with the sound of your voice before his actions.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It will also depend on his mood. A happy, romantic, sweet Kenji who longs to spend time with you after a long week at work will be deep and slow but careful. But a Kenji who is stressed out from losing so many games, fighting with players from other teams and tired of being a baby kaiju's single mother and breaking his back being Ultraman will throw you on the mat face down and grab onto your hips to pound you like there’s no tomorrow and then flip you over to put your knees on his shoulders because you’re dumb enough to do it on your own (of course you’re okay with all of this).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is a fan of quickies, he couldn't live without them. He tends to have mental breakdowns more often than you think and between so many games, interviews and training sessions he sometimes comes home too tired to do it slowly and formally, so you can also offer him several quickies a week so that they are little breaks for him and he can de-stress and continue.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He has a slight interest in doing it where he can get caught, like the time where his hands got too far with you in the stadium locker room before a game and his teammates were feet away getting ready in the hallway outside.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is a professional athlete who is used to hours of training, cardio and all that stuff. His average is 3-4 rounds when he feels mentally stable and physically rested. You usually ends up with pain in your lower back and the back of your knees.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys and he wouldn't use them on himself. If he ever bought one it would be to use it with you so you could both experience something new together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to embarrass you but in a good way. Maybe he'll mention things about how desperate you are or how abundant your release was today with just a few touches. This man's ego is big and it expands to the sky when he can see you under him sweaty and moaning his name repeatedly so it's the perfect setting for him to joke around in more egotistical and arrogant ways with you to make you blush.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

If you're in a completely safe and alone place, Kenji will never shut his mouth. He's unconsciously very expressive in that aspect and will say whatever he wants and needs to say, even if something bothers him. His tone of voice is thicker and more desperate as if he's throwing little tantrums asking for more from you. Sometimes it confuses you when he claims that you're too tight around him. Is he complaining or is he grateful for it?

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves to make dirty calls with you when you are at home and he is away from you. He feels very proud of himself knowing the power he has over you and how he manages to make you wet even when he is not present, calling you with some dirty nicknames that he saves just for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's not too far from average. When the baby is asleep he's pretty normal sized although still noticeable in tight jeans or his Ultraman form. But when the baby wants action he's maybe an inch or an inch and a half taller than average. Kenji is a tall, thin young man so his strengths would be more length than girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

In the middle, not too low or too desperate. Although sometimes his thoughts are the ones to blame for making him feel horny and that's when he asks you for help to solve it, but on a scale of 1-10 I'd leave it at 7. He knows when it's more prudent to let himself go and when not to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't fall asleep until you do unless he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is sleep in your arms right after he's cum. If he's tired enough to sleep on the same sheets you two made out with earlier.

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