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bvidzsoo · 4 months

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Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)

ー☆ Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 9.8k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hi, lovelies!! LMLAR is BACK!! I am sooo happy I could finally update and just write, y'all have no idea! I am so sorry for making you wait so long for this update, but finishing my thesis was super important! I still have to study and such this month, but I promise next update won't take as long as this one did! (I'm writing other stories too while writing this one, so that kinda backfires sometimes lol) I am forever grateful that you are patient and stick around for the new chapters, this story is so dear to me you wouldn't even believe it. I am also super grateful and happy whenever you leave feedback, so please, keep on doing just that!<3 This chapter only exists because I was randomly inspired, and I'd like to apologize if it's a little rusty, I always have to get in "character" when I write this story lol. I am soo excited for next chapter, I think it's going to surprise you hehe. PLS PLS imagine that airport look from Mingi when reading this chapter, the pics from the moodboard, you'll see during which part! I also have a very small surprise at the end of this chapter hehe. I hope the time jumps aren't too confusing:(( Please, listen to the song called You before or while reading! Enough yapping, I hope you enjoy and leave feedback! (Taglist is always open for those interested! ^^)

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Later that day

I hate him: hey…just checking in that I got home safely what are u up to?

I blinked, fingers tightening around my phone before I locked it, leaving the message on unread. My mother’s shuffling outside my door caught my attention, bringing a smile onto my lips as I watched her struggle while bringing all the dirty laundry to the bathroom. Then, I got off my bed to go help her.

Friday (11:30 am)

I hate him: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)

Friday (12:50 pm)

I hate him: lol, wooyoung has been bitching about seulgi’s professor for half an hour now mr. kwon u know him? i mean…i suppose he also teaches u i should take a sneaky video for u…wooyoung looks like a clown hanging upside down my bed and pouting like a damn child too (dont say im also one, thanks)

Friday (15:26 pm)

I hate him: well…ik my messages are going through so uh… why tf are u ignoring me???! *cries and dies in loneliness* entertain me dollll!!! im so bored pls oh…u said u had an important assignment…i bet u’re busy with that sorry for spamming u (text back tho when u’re done, im dying here…wooyoung is with seulgi and so is seonghwa with hongjoong…the single life sucks, bestie…lets be single and depressed together<3)

My jaw clenched as I heaved a long sigh, falling back on my bed as the sun shone brightly through my open window, the light breeze making me shiver as I only wore a t-shirt and sweats. Autumn was slowly turning into winter; the weather wasn’t so warm anymore. I threw another look at my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the received messages from Mingi for a second before finally deciding to delete them from my notification center, rolling over in bed to muffle a frustrated scream into my soft, and purple, pillow.

Saturday (9:09 am)

I hate him: i had the weirdest dream and im not even sure i want to tell u about it LOL but uh…a grisly was chasing me??? and then u appeared on a fucking white horse like a prince LOL and threatened to like…slay it if it didnt leave me alone??? honestly…what a slay, bestie good morning, btw, doll hope u had a better night’s sleep than me (and dreamed of me ehehehe)

Saturday (17:40 pm)

I hate him: i cant believe i allowed myself to be fooled like this back in highschool yuyu and i used to play baseball for shits and giggles and hongjoong (that rich prick) rented a whole ass baseball field for us for the afternoon and let us play with some of his (rich af) friends and uh… i think i wont be able to walk straight for another week with how much running i did… hongjoong kept scoring homeruns…i wish yuyu was here to kick his loser ass (dont tell hwa or hong i said that PLS) yo doll…everything’s alright with u? uh u…really havent answered me since… yk…i stayed over and waited for the rain to stop… have i done something wrong?

I sighed and put my phone on ‘do not disturb’, suddenly having lost all of my appetite as I forced the rest of the lettuce down my throat. My mother was sipping her kiwi and apple smoothie, eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself while trying to memorize the recipe of a dessert for later. Desserts were never her forte, unfortunately.

“Is it Seulgi?” She asked absentmindedly as I took a large gulp of my own smoothie, staring down at my salad, steak pushed to the side in my plate.

“Huh?” I asked distracted, eyes still glued to the dark screen of my phone.

“Texting you, your phone keeps buzzing, my starlight.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but didn’t bother to comment on it. I took a peek at my mother and her eyes were narrowed at me already, video on YouTube paused. Fuck, I had to answer her now or else she’d pester me all day long. And that would be a nightmare.

“Yeah, it’s Seulgi.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound convincing.

“Well, answer her then, don’t be rude.” My mother chastised me, pressing play on her video again, pursing her lips as she shook her head at whatever the man baking was saying.

“Later.” I whispered, biting my lower lip as my eyes remained glued to my phone, stomach clenching and heart dropping.

But I couldn’t.

Sunday (1:01 am)

I hate him: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?

『When you came along, I knew what was wrong

If you want to know exactly what I've missed』

Monday (present time)

It truly would have been a missed opportunity if Seulgi and I wouldn’t have grabbed coffee and went to sit in our usual spot in the back garden. The campus of our University was huge and that was perfect, because it meant people migrated and didn’t stay in one spot for long—at least long enough to irritate me to no end. Last week deemed to be rather rough, and I still didn’t feel like completely myself. To be honest, I thought about staying home today—and for the rest of the week—but I couldn’t afford missing any of my classes as exam period was slowly nearing, and so, I had to force my ass out of the house this morning before my mother could come and nag me about my weirdly unusual broody mood that has been going on for the past few days.

I hummed as I took a sip of my sweet coffee, enjoying the taste of warm caramel as Seulgi sighed loudly next to me, both hands cupped around her own coffee cup. The scent of cinnamon wafted from her cup and I scrunched up my nose, not too fond of the ingredient’s smell. Our classes started early in the morning today and we’d be here for at least four more hours, caffeine seemed like our only hope to stay awake and aware at this point. Given the fact that my baffling thoughts kept me up all night yesterday, I felt grateful that I was still on my feet at two o’clock at noon. As Seulgi fidgeted again, I chuckled and finally turned my head to look at her. She had a sheepish look on her face, and I tried not to laugh as I knew she was bursting to tell me all about her date with Wooyoung on Saturday.

“Well,” I started as I took a sip of my coffee, prolonging the suspense for her, “how did your date go?”

“It was amazing!” I had barely finished asking as Seulgi exclaimed, her cheeks turning rosy—and it wasn’t due to the cold air, “Wooyoung is—everything I thought he would be. He’s sweet and up for anything, he makes me laugh until I feel like passing out, and there’s just never a dull moment with him, you know?”

“One would expect that from him.” I muttered against my cup, laughing as Seulgi nudged my side, not looking too happy with my comment, “Oh, come on, it would be hard for Wooyoung to be different than the way he mostly presents himself; don’t you think?”

Seulgi grumbled something against her cup as she lightly bit into the carton, shooting me a pointed stare, “Well, yes, but…he makes me happy. Treats me well and all that, you know, he’s the perfect embodiment of what a boyfriend should be like.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” I teased with a smirk, wriggling my eyebrows at my best friend as her cheeks flushed an even darker color as she bit her lower lip, trying to mask the huge grin expanding on her lips. But as soon as I started giggling, Seulgi also broke out in a fit of giggles, hiding herself behind her wavy hair, pressing her cup of coffee against her face.

“God, I’m so down bad for him, Y/N, I don’t think you’d understand.” She mused, voice airy as she threw her head back, leaning back against the back of the bench. I chuckled and took another sip of my drink.

“Maybe I’d do.” I muttered, memories of my relationship with Yunho resurfacing. Thankfully, however, I managed to repress them as quickly as they came. They didn’t feel so gut-wrenching anymore, and to my surprise, didn’t leave a bitter taste in its wake either. What has changed? Certainly—certainly getting closer to his best friend didn’t influence the way I feel about Yunho, right? Right.

“So,” I glanced at Seulgi from the corner of my eyes as she swung her legs, looking down at her feet in the process, “how are you?”

“Fine, why?” I asked confused, angling my body to face Seulgi better.

“You’ve been…distant the whole weekend. I could barely reach you.” Seulgi’s voice sounded small and I gulped, feeling bad for making her worry about me, “You know…the last time you pulled away and disappeared, it was bad.”

“I promise you I am doing completely fine, Seulgi, you’d be the first person to know if I was in a bad headspace again, alright?” I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Seulgi sighed and then raised her head to look at me, lips pulled into a thin line.

“Promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” I smiled at her warmly and she hummed in contentment, squeezing my hand back as she took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit before removing my hand from hers to fiddle with my half empty cup, “I’m just dealing with some things right now. I think I’m confused.”

“About what?” Seulgi asked curiously, leaning closer as I continued to avoid eye contact with her.

“I’ll tell you once I have my thoughts sorted about it.” I chuckled, making Seulgi roll her eyes in displeasure.

“You know, I tell you absolutely everything about myself and how I fell, and you always shut me out and tell me how you felt about a situation when it’s been over for years.” Seulgi pouted, narrowing her eyes at me, “How’s that fair, Y/N?”

“Hey, we work differently, don’t try to guilt trip me now.” I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “Anyways, what did you do on your date with Wooyoung?”

“We went to the cinema,” Seulgi’s face lit up once again, grinning from ear to ear, “He bought me roses, a big bouquet. And after the movie we went for a walk and ended up stargazing in his cabriolet. It was really romantic.”

I smiled, feeling happy for my friend, she deserved someone like Wooyoung, “That actually sounds really amazing…and romantic.”

“Oh, my God, are you really Y/N? Where is my friend that hates anything that has to do with romance, cute stuff, and love?!” Seulgi’s shocked face was mocking and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back against the back of the bench.

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not a huge fan of all of those things, okay?!” I shrugged, letting my arms fall from my chest as I pushed them inside my coat’s pockets.

“Who’s the culprit?” When I raised my eyebrows at Seulgi, a sign that I didn’t understand her question, she chuckled and leaned closer, “Who’s the man that’s changing your views on life, huh?”

“Man?” I asked with a scoff, giving Seulgi a deadpanned expression, “Does it always have to be about a man? Can’t it be just the fact that I had a change of mind?”

“Sure, because of someone.” Seulgi had a smug look on her face, acting as if she won the argument. But there was no argument here and she had no idea what she was talking about.

“Whatever—” But I got cut off as her phone dinged loudly. Seulgi, very comically, scrambled to reach for her phone and as she opened it up, a wide grin stretched onto her lips. It didn’t take two braincells to realize who had texted her, and thus, I chuckled and turned my head. I sipped my coffee, taking in my environment while Seulgi answered her boyfriend, giggling quietly every now and then.

The campus was finally silent and not as busy as it usually was in the early morning hours. The cold weather also helped in keeping the garden a little quieter as most people preferred to stay inside the warm corridors and classrooms. But the chilly air was good, it soothed my nerves and erased thoughts that weren’t productive. Similar to that, were the emotions that I didn’t want to deal with again, like the guilt that’s never left me ever since Mingi walked out of my house wearing Yunho’s old clothes. It felt wrong letting him take them without knowing the truth about them, but I didn’t feel ready to tell him yet about the truth. I was scared, surprisingly, of what he’d think of me once he found out about Yunho and I. I was scared that—he’d walk away, like Yunho had once done. And that was a very frightening thought. But when had I become so attached to Mingi? When has Mingi managed to infiltrate himself so thoroughly in my life, that the thought of completely losing him became scary? And why was I taking the past few days so badly? It’s not like we were as close as Seulgi and I, or him and Seonghwa and Wooyoung, yet, ignoring him felt like the wrong move to do. However, the reasoning I always circled back to was the fact that I needed space. I had to clear my mind, to find the purpose of this whole friendship that’s been blooming between us, and to make sense of everything. I had to figure out first why Yunho barely scraped my thoughts now, and why was it was Mingi who I found myself thinking of so often. In case you were wondering, no, I still haven’t found the reason, and it was becoming frustrating quite quickly. That near kiss was a—mistake. Yet, it could have been so much worse—it could have been a real kiss. And a real kiss would have ruined everything. I didn’t want to open up to anyone just yet, not when the memories of Yunho still haunted me in my dreams and drawings. Drawings that now more often than not consisted of Song Mingi.

And to my horror, the flipping of paper sheets is what alerted me back to my surroundings as I had been lost in my thoughts, oblivious to Seulgi putting her phone down and grabbing my sketchbook that lay between the two of us on the bench. As I turned my head, my eyes widened as Seulgi’s expression held surprise but amusement as well. She chuckled as she looked up, making eye contact with me. I lunged forward in an instant, trying to take my sketchbook out of her hands, but she leaned back and away, putting it behind herself.

“Bitch, I’m not the only one who’s down bad for a man.” She said with a laugh, making me groan as I gave up trying to snatch my sketchbook back from her.

“I’m not down bad for a man, Seulgi, stop this non-sense.” I hissed, cheeks burning in embarrassment as she kept flipping through my drawings.

“Please,” She scoffed, turning my sketchbook around and making me grimace as I came face to face with an exact replica of Mingi, sitting in his chair, at his studio that one time he invited me inside, “Who the fuck draws so many drawings of one single person if they aren’t in love with them—”

“I’m not in love with Mingi, stop it!” I exclaimed, heart beating fast as Seulgi raised her eyebrows at me, looking unimpressed, “Don’t ever again say that, Seulgi.”

“Okay, calm down, whatever. You’re not in love with Mingi.” She chuckled, closing my sketchbook but she didn’t hand it back yet, “But let’s face it, Y/N, you have a thing for Mingi. It’s super freaking obvious even without the drawings.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed and finally snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, clutching it to my chest. I knew bringing this along today would turn out to be a mistake, and here I was, facing the repercussions of my actions.

“There’s this glint in your eyes whenever you look at him—”

“Yeah, it’s called dislike.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“And I see how you struggle to refrain yourself from smiling when you’re around him—”

“Bitch, be for real, Mingi and I aren’t even often together around you for you to notice that.” I scoffed, completely appealed by whatever absurd claims my best friend was making.

“So you’re not denying it—would it really be so bad if you liked Mingi?” But Seulgi ignored all my interruption as she raised her eyebrows at me, smiling softly, “He’s a nice guy. Very well-mannered and with a big, and good heart. Wooyoung loves him a lot and is always worrying about him. He says Mingi hasn’t been the same ever since his best friend moved away for college—”

“Mingi is Yunho’s best friend!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, finally feeling like a stone was taken off my chest as I bit my lower lip, averting my eyes from Seulgi’s shocked expression, “Mingi is the best friend Yunho had always talked so much about while we were together. I—do you understand why it would be so bad if I ended up liking Mingi?”

“Y/N,” Seulgi whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “for how long have you know?”

“Long enough.” I muttered before clearing my throat, “So please understand that I’m not ready for whatever the hell me drawing all those sketches of Mingi could mean. A month ago I was close to bursting out crying even at the thought of Yunho, and now I fail to remember his existence on my best days.”

When I dared take a peek at Seulgi, she was smiling softly, almost proudly, “Fine, I’ll pester you about this later on, when you’ve figured things out, but until then—you can’t deny Mingi isn’t hot—”

“Can we stop talking about Min—”

“Hi, girls!” I jumped in fright at the overly excited and shrill greeting as both Seulgi and I turned our heads to be met with…Wooyoung and Mingi. Speak of the devil. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster as my eyes fell on Mingi’s tall form. It didn’t help that underneath his coat he was wearing Yunho’s sweater—the one I had given him.

“Hi.” Seulgi giggled as Wooyoung leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek, the two looking sickly in love. It was actually endearing, but I’d never admit it out loud for my own sake as I knew I’d get teased about it by Seulgi. I averted my eyes from Wooyoung and Seulgi as they were muttering things to each other, and so, had no choice but to look up at Mingi, who looked—expressionless. Something in my stomach dropped at his cold demeanor, and it was worse that I wanted to assume it was my fault that he looked like that. But just as I was about to look away, he cracked the tiniest smile ever, and I exhaled, licking my lips.

“Hi.” My voice was small as I gulped, eyes trans-fixated on the tall man as his smile became just a little wider. I don’t think I had the power to ignore him anymore, not when he was standing right in front of me, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here.

“Hi, Y/N.” Having not heard his voice in days, it sounded even deeper and raspier than usually, making butterflies erupt in my stomach as my grip tightened around my sketchbook. I felt a little awkward, perhaps even tense, as Mingi didn’t say anything else, just continued gazing down at me with his sharp dark brown eyes boring into my own. I had so many things that I could’ve said to him, but I felt tongue tied. I didn’t know what would be the right way to approach him after I ignored him for so many days. Would he understand? Is he mad at me now? Does he hate me now? Will he forgive me—

“Okay,” Wooyoung chuckled, syllable drawn out and sounding amused, “I feel like I’m interrupting something here, yet they are basically just staring at each other.”

“You’re right.” Seulgi giggled, and I finally looked away from Mingi, throwing a glare at my best friend as she had leaned into Wooyoung’s side, who stood next to the bench and her.

“Shush, you two.” Mingi beat me to telling the two love-birds off, and I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong to.”

“Look who’s lecturing me about poking my nose where it doesn’t belong to—”

“Wooyoung.” Mingi’s tone held a warning, and it made Wooyoung giggle as he leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against Seulgi’s cheek—again—making her push him away playfully.

“We’re headed to class, are you coming over later?” Wooyoung smiled down at his girlfriend, playing with a strand of her hair.

“Maybe, if I get to finish my project.” Seulgi said with a pout and Wooyoung hummed, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips this time around. I averted my eyes, not a fan of seeing couples kiss, only to catch Mingi already looking at me. He was expressionless once again, but he was fidgeting with his fingers, looking almost nervous. And as Wooyoung stood up straight and ruffled Seulgi’s hair affectionately, Mingi took a deep breath.

“Will you come to Outlaw this Friday?” He asked in a rush, sounding almost reluctant as his eyebrows furrowed slightly and he chewed on his lower lip. To my horror, I found my eyes fixated on his plush mouth and I gulped before I quickly averted my eyes, praying that nobody caught it.

“Yes.” I answered before Seulgi could, and nodded, smiling a little bit, “I won’t miss it.”

A beautiful smile spread on Mingi’s lips and he nodded once, looking too happy for something so little. I don’t think I’ll understand anytime soon why he gets so excited and happy when I listen to his songs or watch him perform. I’m no expert when it comes to music, my feedback is merely amateur and I’m not even a fan of his band yet.

“Cool, see you then.” And Mingi didn’t wait for Wooyoung as he turned around and walked away, steps hurried. I didn’t miss the confused glance Wooyoung and Seulgi shared before Wooyoung was off, chasing after his best friend. And maybe I would be soon able to make sense of my thoughts and feelings around Mingi, figure out what they meant and why they felt so real at times.

Monday (16:58 pm)

I hate him: hi Me: hi I hate him: would it be a lot if i asked to meet u tomorrow? Me: no, im free in the afternoon I hate him: cool, me too so uh…we can hang out in my studio? Me: or we can go to that new café with pottery I hate him: really? Me: u did say u wanted us to go… I hate him: i certainly said so i’ll pick u up around 4 Me: u don’t have to i’ll meet you there I hate him: come on, y/n…let me drive u Me: u’ve driven me around too many times by now i’ll meet u there and that’s final. I hate him: okay, boss, see ya there Me: :))

Getting here before four o’clock and having to wait in front of the cute café had no business being this nerve-wrecking. Yeah, Mingi hasn’t shown up yet—but perhaps that’s because there were still ten minutes until it’d be four—and I knew I had no reason to think he’d bail on me, but we hadn’t spoken since yesterday, when he had asked me if we could hang out. And so, waiting for him shouldn’t have had me breaking out in a sweat despite the cold weather, making me bite my lower lip harshly as I tried to smooth down the wool, green, brown, and beige patterned coat I was wearing. First of all, why the hell would I be so nervous about meeting up with Mingi alone at this cute café? He probably wanted to talk about that near kiss, and once we had that cleared, things would go back to normal—right?!

And maybe that was the reason which made me want to vomit on the sidewalk, the thought that I knew Mingi would demand answers—answers that I wasn’t yet ready to hand out. Why did I even agree to this? Because I missed him? I should have just stayed at home and done the project I’ve been procrastinating on—again. But when I heard the rumble of Mingi’s old Honda’s engine, I knew there was no turning back, catching the bus and running home to hide underneath my blanket.

As Mingi took his time to parallel park, I took a deep breath and gripped onto the strap of my tote bag harder, looking down at myself. My apricot orange sneakers matched the color of my blouse, the top two buttons out of five undone, but not showing too much skin. My blouse was tucked inside my washed out high waisted mom jeans, the black belt matching the color of my tote bag—I know black isn’t a color, I’m an arts major after all. My hair was pulled in a low ponytail just to prevent the wind from blowing it in my face, and I was thankful that I chose my wool coat as it kept me warm enough. I have opted to wear quite a few rings today, and because my neck felt too exposed, I decorated it with three necklaces of different length. I gulped hard one last time as Mingi got out of his car and took a few seconds until he managed to lock it. However, those few seconds were exactly what I needed to prepare myself to not pass out at the full sight of him.

Mingi, in true fashion to him, wore all black, except for his jeans that were a very dark shade of blue, almost black too. His turtleneck was tucked inside his jeans, a black coat with a hood keeping him warm from the cold late autumn weather. It almost made me smile upon seeing his own tote bag, black, and funnily matching mine. Except that his was plain, while mine had Claude Monet’s Water-Lily Pond painting painted on it, done by none other than yours truly, me. Mingi’s eyes were concealed by black sunglasses, and I snorted as he almost splashed himself up by stepping a little too enthusiastically into a big puddle. Two necklaces hung around his neck, reaching down his chest. A very obvious and sturdy silver cross necklace, and another longer chain that had pearls scarcely strung on it. And in true Song Mingi fashion, his rings weren’t missing, only two of his nails painted black on each hand, almost as if he didn’t have time to finish doing them. My heart racing in my chest so fast just at the mere sight of him, certainly wasn’t healthy, right?

“Hi!” I squeaked out and wished to burry myself instantly as Mingi chuckled, a very charming smile spreading onto his lips. It was a little annoying that I couldn’t see his eyes, forced to stare at his plush lips instead—let’s be real, nobody forced me, I did it because I couldn’t help myself, “The sun is quite blinding today, isn’t it?”

And of course, in good old fashion, my mouth worked before my brain would agree to saying something out loud, and my cheeks were burning as I knew Mingi saw me look at his lips. I had to divert the attention somehow, and teasing him was my best method, actually. It always worked.

“I’m trying to make a fashion statement,” Mingi grinned as he gripped the sunglasses and took them off in a very unnaturally hot way, “but hello to you too.”

“No need for a fashion statement when it’s just the two of us,” I narrowed my eyes, finding Mingi’s hair very soft and fluffy looking, almost as if he had recently washed it, and it wasn’t completely dry, “I’m not one of your fans.”

“Pity,” Mingi hummed, stepping slightly closer to me, “I thought I might just finally wove you.”

I scoffed, and as I was about to tell him off, he grabbed my tote bag and pulled me after himself, headed for the entrance of the café, “Did you have to wait long for me? Traffic was busier today, I had to take a few detours to get here in time.”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled as he opened the door for me and let me walk inside first, “I only waited half an hour for you to arrive, runway princess.”

“Runway princess?!” Mingi’s eyes bulged for a second before he started laughing loudly, making a few customers glance our way as we made it inside the café. I elbowed him in the stomach gently, not too keen of having people glare at us as he disturbed their peace.

“Don’t like the nickname?” I asked with a raised brow as we neared the front desk. The cashier had a friendly smile on her face while she greeted us as Mingi and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide what we’d like to have.

“Never said that,” Mingi answered with a chuckle as he threw me a quick glance, “it’s just surprising coming from you.”

“Why, can’t I call you a princess?” I chuckled, turning to face the cashier as I have made up my mind about what I’d like to have.

“Up until now you seemed to prefer the term ‘bro’, but I’m fine with whatever you decide on calling me, doll.” The look the cashier gave us made my cheeks flame up and I cleared my throat loudly, shooting Mingi a look that told him to shut up.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered embarrassed, smiling at the cashier, “can I get a strawberry cheesecake?”

“Sure, right away, and you, sir?” Her attention was on Mingi now, cheeks flushing the longer she looked at him. Okay, I could totally understand why. Mingi looked quite good right now, it was hard not to ogle him.

“A mint-chocolate cheesecake and a cappuccino?” Mingi hummed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the cashier.

“Plain cappuccino or with vanilla?” The cashier typed in our orders as she asked Mingi, averting her eyes shyly once he looked at her, pursing his lips.

“Plain,” He decided at last, turning to look at me, “are you not getting anything to drink?”

“An orange fresh will be alright.” I said as I reached inside my bag to fish around for my wallet.

“And would you also like to paint some pottery?” The cashier asked, pointing behind herself at all the displayed options. Mingi and I shared a look and I smiled as I nodded at him, making him grin from ear to ear.

“Yeah, we’ll paint some pottery too. Can I have a cup?” He asked, pointing at one on the higher shelf. It was a smaller cup, specifically made for drinking coffee. The cashier nodded and then looked at me expectantly.

“Uh, a mug will do for me.” I said and thanked her once she handed us the pottery and the paint that was used for painting these. Then, she tapped a few more on her tablet and told us the total. I opened my wallet to pay for my purchase, but Mingi had a card in his hands, the cashier already typing in the total sum for him to pay.

“Mingi,” I hissed quietly, looking at him with a frown, “what are you doing?”

“It was my idea to come here—”

“No, it wasn’t.” I cut him off, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric of his coat as I reached out to hold it, “I suggested we come here instead of going to your studio.”

Mingi sighed and pocketed his card, already having paid, then turned his body to face mine. I didn’t let go of his coat just yet, “Yeah, but when I drove you home during that downpour I asked you if you’d come here with me. So technically, it was my idea. Initially, anyways, it really was.”

“Mingi—” I started, but soon swallowed my words as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. My fingers tightened more into his coat and I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous due to our proximity. He faintly smelled of vanilla, it was a fragrance I didn’t except to smell on him.

“Can you not fight me on this one, please?” Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes softened up and I—struggled to breathe for a second as I stared up in his pleading eyes, mouth going dry. He looked—adorable like this, and I did not like the way I felt myself getting lost in his soft gaze.

“Let’s find a table.” I muttered, forcing myself out of the trance he placed on me, and grabbed my mug and the painting supplies. Mingi followed suit as he took his own cup and followed after me closely. We walked further inside the café and found a smaller table in the next room, closer towards the window. The walls were painted a faint orange and were decorated by white stripes that created abstract shapes. The chandeliers were white and hung low, the place well-lit for those who wished to paint pottery.

I placed the things in my hands on the table carefully, and then discarded my coat on the back of my chair and my tote bag by the leg of the table, pulling my chair out for myself. Mingi followed suit, however, he managed to almost send his cup tumbling to the floor when he took his seat. His eyes were wide as he just barely caught the cup, and I giggled as I watched him while opening the box that held all the paint. Thankfully, the table was spacious enough to harbor both our pottery and paints as the cashier brought out our delicacies. She threw Mingi a lasting look before she hurried back to the front desk, glancing our way at times.

“This is going to be a tough one.” Mingi said before scooping up a bit of his cheesecake with his little spoon.

“Why?” I asked with a chuckle, choosing a thin brush to start painting some flowers on my mug. My cheesecake could wait.

“Because I’m literally sat at a table with an arts major, having to decorate some cup by painting.” Mingi sounded stressed and I chuckled as I looked up at him, amused by his expression. His hair fell in his eyes a bit, and I found myself absentmindedly reaching over the table to brush it to the side. Almost as if realizing at the same time what I had done, we both froze. It felt like time stilled around us as I watched Mingi with a gaping mouth, slowly but surely, my cheeks becoming the color of a fire hydrant. But Mingi wasn’t better off as he bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes shyly as his cheeks turned the faint color of pink. Clearing my throat and accidentally choking as I hastily pulled my hand back, I averted my eyes and fought for my life to not choke. Thank God the orange juice was right there, I quickly took three large gulps.

“Th—thanks.” Mingi stuttered, staring at the table as he licked his lips, “Uh, it’s gotten long, my hair, I mean, I have to cut it when I get the time.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, grabbing my mug and chewing on my bottom lip in embarrassment—God, could the Earth swallow me up right now? Why the hell did I do that?! “Yeah.”

“Do you think I should change it up a little?” I paused as I had dipped my brush in red paint, and slowly looked up at Mingi, “Do something fun with it—like going blonde?”

“I hate blonde hair.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Nice one, idiot. Yunho was blonde while we were together, and thus, yeah, I’ve hated blondes ever since. And to be fair—and this is not me shitting on my ex—but that hair color did not suit Yunho at all.

“Oh, noted.” Mingi whispered, pouting a little. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hating myself for the weird atmosphere I have created.

“Mingi, you can do whatever you want with your hair.” I spoke up, leaning down to try and look him in the eyes as he was busy staring at the table, “My opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your hair. Go crazy with it, have fun, try out something new. Really.”

“But do you think it would suit me?” Mingi was still pouting as he finally looked up at me, looking quite crestfallen. My eyebrows furrowed and I tried to imagine him with blonde hair. He was quite blessed with his skin complex as most colors looked good on him, but perhaps I preferred Mingi with dark hair—black hair, more specifically. Like he had it right now. He looked—good. Handsome, even. Completely gorgeous. Fuck.

“I think it would suit you.” I settled on saying that. He didn’t have to know my train of thought, like at all. Mingi hummed in appreciation, and I watched as he reached inside his tote bag, pulling out a case that held his glasses. He took it out of the case and put it on, pushing it up on the bridge of his nose. He grinned when he looked at me and I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked down at my mug, finally starting to decorate it.

“There goes the cool, mysterious, hot celebrity act.” I teased under my breath, not expecting Mingi to hear me. But he did, and he started laughing, giving me a cheeky grin.

“Not quite a celebrity yet, but at least you admit I am hot.” Of course he was smirking as I gave him a deadpanned look, about to argue him on his statement, but he didn’t let me as he continued talking, “By the way, let’s exchange our cups when we are done. The mug will be mine and the cup will be yours.”

I tried to fight the smile off my lips, “So that you get the artwork of a talented artist for free to sell for an outrageous price later on when I’m famous?”

“I fear you have misjudged my character, doll.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was truth to his words. I might just have misjudged his character.

“I still think you’re arrogant and selfish.”

“Of course you do, didn’t except anything less from you.” Mingi winked and then looked down, his cheesecake forgotten as he started decorating his cup, tongue just barely sticking out as he concentrated hard on whatever he had in mind to paint onto the cup. I chuckled and shook my head before focusing on my own mug, the silence that’s settle around us comfortable, as always.

Mingi and I were the quietest table in the café as we worked in silence diligently in, painting our own pottery. Mingi, at times, would hum along quietly to the songs that were played on the radio. Despite his cup being smaller and easier to paint, I finished painting mine before him, and so, I took the time to savor my cheesecake even if it had gotten warm and a little too soft. Mingi was hunched over in his seat, glasses low on the bridge of his long nose, with his full lips either pursed or with the bottom one bitten as his eyebrows would furrow every time he almost made a mistake. It was a funny sight, and I grabbed my phone without thinking much, and snapped a few pictures of him, leaning lower and even closer to his face to get the funny angles, all while Mingi remained oblivious to it. I chuckled as I looked at the pictures I had taken of him, looking at him when I felt eyes on me.

“What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, eyeing my phone for a second.

“You.” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out as Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he heaved a long sigh.

“I’m finally done.” He grinned and I looked down at his cup, taking in the yellow chicks he had painted quite—clumsily. Well, not all of us had the skills of a painter—not that it was an issue or anything—it’s just that it’s been long since I had seen someone have the skills of a—kindergartner, “It’s pretty sick, huh?”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from giggling and nodded with my eyebrows furrowed, “I’d give it a seventy out of a hundred mark.”

“Hey! That’s too low!” Mingi said, looking offended. I chuckled before shrugging.

“You’ll have to work on your skills for a higher mark.”

“Fine, next time you come to the studio, I’ll make you sing.” Mingi raised his eyebrows, making me narrow my eyes at him playfully.

“Oh, I didn’t know we are in a competition.”

“We weren’t, until now.” He winked and then stood, grabbing my mug and his own cup carefully as he took it to the front desk for drying. I gathered the items we had used to paint the pottery with to place them back in the box, and couldn’t help it but sneak a glance at Mingi. He was leaned up against the front counter, grinning widely at the cashier as she spoke to him, using her hands for big gestures as she was probably explaining something. My eyes narrowed as Mingi leaned slightly closer to her, only to detach himself from the front desk and walk back towards our table. I looked away and busied myself with my glass of orange juice.

“So, we’ll get them delivered to our houses once they are dry and all.” He said with a smile, sitting down, “I hope you don’t mind I gave her your address too.”

“I don’t.” I muttered, chewing on the straw for a second, “I didn’t think you’d know my address.”

“Well,” Mingi flattened his hands on the surface of the table, “I’ve been to your house twice now. I think it’s only right I remember your address, doll.”

“Right,” I muttered, “you’ve been to my house.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he didn’t like the tone of my voice. But before I could correct myself and explain that I had nothing against that, he spoke up, “Y/N, I—I didn’t mean to scare you or—I don’t know—make you think that I want anything from you. I mean—we are friends, and I respect you as a woman and as a friend, and I know we almost—kissed. But I—I don’t want you to think that I’m playing some sort of game with you to get—to get in your pants. I’m your friend. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do that to you.”

Hearing him say all that felt wrong. I didn’t deserve any explanation from him. I was the one that’s overreacted that day, and Mingi was the one that deserved an explanation and apology from me for the way I have acted. I knew I couldn’t completely open up to him right now, that some parts of the truth had to be omitted today, but he also deserved to know why I had pulled back. And I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t his fault for the way I reacted to everything.

“Mingi,” I offered him a small smile and gripped my empty glass for some support, “If you think you are the reason why I ignored you, please, stop thinking that. It’s—we both leaned in, okay? We were both about to kiss each other, it’s not like you initiated it or forced me to do something I didn’t want to. And nothing even happened, for God’s sake. I reacted that way because I—”

When I paused, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned over the table, gently poking my hand with his ring clad fore-finger, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable sharing it, Y/N.”

“But I want you to know this, Mingi.” I averted my eyes and took a deep breath, embracing myself for what I was about to tell him, “I had a boyfriend back in high-school who completely broke my heart, shattered it into pieces. And I know that happened a long time ago, and yes, I am over him, but I—I am scared people will treat me like he had treated me. I’m scared that if I let you close, you’ll just—leave. Like he did. And I know ignoring you for days was very shitty of me and I shouldn’t have done that—because quite frankly, Mingi, you deserve better—I just didn’t know what to do. I needed a few days to myself, to figure things out. It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the truth, and I think you deserve to know it. Since we are friends.”

Mingi’s face conveyed no emotion for a few seconds and I gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Did he figure it out now? That I was talking about Yunho? That maybe I have started feeling something for him too, for Mingi? Would he stand up and leave? But to my surprise, a wide smile stretched onto his lips and he hummed, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Thank you for trusting me, it means a lot that you told me all that.” I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the table abashedly, “And I was never mad at you for ignoring me. I completely understand you, Y/N, and for the record, I have zero intentions of leaving you. And your ex is a fucking asshole for breaking your heart like that, tell me who he is and I’ll beat him up when I cross paths with him.”

There was nothing funny about what Mingi had said, especially since he was talking about his best friend, but the comically tough look on his face made me snort loudly as I shielded my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself from laughing too loudly. Mingi started grinning like an idiot, his giggles deep, and making something coil in my stomach. When has Song Mingi become adorable instead of annoying?

“I doubt you’d want to kick his ass once you find out who he is…” I grimaced once that was out of my mouth, regretting it instantly. What was it about today that I couldn’t keep my thoughts and mouth in check? It was turning really frustrating.

“So, you plan on telling me one day?” Mingi wriggled his eyebrows, making me snort, “Like real besties gossiping and shit.”

“You never fail to make me cringe when you call us besties, Mingi.” I shook my head, taking a glance at my wrist watch. Oh, the time had flown away, it was well past five now, and the sun was going down. I’d probably have to head home soon to have dinner with my mother. I was becoming hungry too.

“Well, that’s what we are so…” He cleared his throat before slowly standing up, making me look up at him, “Did you know today we’re celebrating the Festival of Light?”

“Nope, I had no idea.” I shook my head, standing up too as Mingi wore his coat, “I don’t follow the events our city organizes.”

“Pity, it’s really pretty.” Mingi pouted, waiting for me as I grabbed my tote bag and pocketed my phone, “Should we check it out?”

“I mean…maybe?” I shrugged and Mingi beckoned me over as he crossed his arm with mine, making me chuckle as I looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his sneakers had a thick sole and they made him even taller, “Where is this festival held at?”

“Just down the street, at the Citadel.” Mingi smiled as he led the way out of the café, waving at the barista as she blushed again, making me chuckle as I subconsciously nuzzled up against Mingi’s side, the air chilly as the sun had set by now.

“That barista totally has a crush on you.” I found myself saying as we walked down the sidewalk, trying to avoid crashing into the people that came towards us. Yeah, there certainly was an event on-going in the city, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many people out and about around this time. Everyone preferred staying inside after the sun had set, not keen of the cold nights.

“You think so?” Mingi mused, bottom lip jutting out as he narrowly avoided a child that was running around, “I didn’t notice.”

“You must be really dense then.” I snorted, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up at him, “She was constantly blushing, and she was totally looking at you with hearts in her eyes.”

“How do you know when someone is looking at you with heart eyes?” Mingi’s question threw me off, and I detached myself from his side, clearing my throat as I looked ahead, pushing my hands in my pockets. He was warm, it made me realize as the cold bit at my skin now that I wasn’t nuzzled up by his side anymore.

“Well, they have this look in their eyes, you know? It’s warm, and soft, and it lasts.” I explained, feelings my cheeks heat up, “And their eyes always linger on you when you aren’t watching them. It’s like…puppy eyes, I suppose? I wouldn’t actually know, Mingi, nobody’s ever looked at me like that.”

When there was no response, I looked back to find Mingi looking at me intensely. My eyebrows furrowed as we have arrived to the Citadel, the gates open for the visitors of the festival. The place was packed, this wouldn’t be so fun anymore. I would’ve turned around and walked back home if I didn’t see how excited Mingi was when I agreed to come check it out.

“There’s lots of people here.” Mingi muttered, and then walked closer to me as I led the way inside, a little baffled by his reaction to my answer. I just merely gave an answer based on my beliefs. It was him that was acting weird now. But as I looked at him, I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore, that he wanted us to drop the subject. His last comment was a way to veer the conversation in a different direction. What was it about us today making everything weird? I sighed and just walked further inside, trying to avoid the big crowd which seemed almost impossible as it stretched on and on. The Citadel, however, was beautiful as it was coated in darkness, only the little paper lamps and fairy lights illuminating the place. It had a certain aura to it, almost romantic, and I soon found myself smiling as we walked down the cobblestone path, still trying to avoid people and stick close to each other’s sides. The air was chilly but the walls of the Citadel did a great job at keeping the breeze out, and the crowd certainly kept the place warmer than it was outside the stone walls.

I found myself admiring the décor in wonder, my mouth hanging open as I took in all the little lamps placed down on the ground, following the cobblestone paths, illuminating our way. It was truly beautiful, it almost felt like the scene was taken out of a fairytale. I found myself filled with excitement and happiness as I turned to grin at Mingi.

“This is so beautiful!” I giggled, absentmindedly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him away from the path and into the dying grass as there was a panel covered with paper, and people were writing on it. Mingi remained silent, but as I searched around for a pen or pencil, I felt him watching me, “What, do you not want to write something?”

“If you manage to find a marker or pen, I will, sure.” He said with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his tote bag before he pushed his hands deep in his pockets. I chuckled and looked around for a marker, but it was hard to see it in the darkness whether they were laying around in the grass or not. To my surprise, a little girl standing next to me looked up at me with a small smile on her lips, and offered me her purple-coloured marker, saying she was done with her drawing. I thanked her with a chuckle and turned to face Mingi with a grin.

“I found one!” Mingi chuckled and took the marker from my hands, being able to reach high up where the paper was still empty, due to his height. The panel was illuminated from the inside so you could actually see what was written on the paper. I watched him as he wrote on the paper, hesitating for a second, before he stepped back and handed me the marker. I raised up on my tip toes curiously, and craned my neck to see what he’s written. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’

I felt a smile spread onto my lips as I looked back at Mingi, who’s expression was serious and almost sad-looking as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his tall nose. I craned my neck back once more to gaze at the dark sky, at the moon, and indeed, there she was, beautiful and shining brightly. It was a new moon. Taking a swift glance at Mingi, I raised back on my tip toes and stood close to the panel, reaching up, just underneath Mingi’s writing. Thankfully, I could reach just bellow it, and I grinned as I quickly drew a new moon, adding a little shading to it and dents as well, creating the illusion of a real moon. Mingi remained silent as I took a step back, admiring our work. I handed the marker to another child as I fished my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture quickly of our artwork.

“The moon turned out beautifully.” Mingi commented once we had stepped away from the panel to let others draw too, headed back onto the cobblestone path.

“Still, it’s not as beautiful as the real one, but I tried my best.” I chuckled as I crossed my arms in front of my chest for a second, avoiding a man as he wasn’t looking in front of himself as he raced down the path. Mingi threw him a displeased look before looking down at me.

“Your drawings and paintings are always beautiful, Y/N.” Mingi said and I found myself blushing, thankful that it was so dark he wouldn’t be able to see it. I uncrossed my arms and turned my body a little to face him. There was music coming from one path, the one which led to the southern part of the Citadel.

“Are you nervous about Friday?” I found myself asking him as Mingi veered us towards where the music was coming from. He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head.

“I’m rarely nervous when we have to perform.” He said nonchalantly, the back of his hand brushing lightly against mine. My heart did a somersault against my ribcage, but I ignored it.

“Oh, you’re such a cool guy.” I teased him with narrowed eyes, making Mingi chuckle.

“I rarely get nervous, to be honest, even less when it comes to performing.” He hummed, looking up at the dark sky for a second, “I trust myself and my bandmates that everything will go well, so, there’s no actual reason to feel nervous.”

“But I’ll be there on Friday, that still doesn’t make you feel nervous?” My question was meant to be teasing, part of our playful banter, but the way Mingi gulped and quickly averted his eyes told me that perhaps I hit the nail spot-on. Well, now I have turned things awkward again. I sighed loudly, chewing on my bottom lip as Mingi remained silent, the two of us walking down the narrow path as the music became louder as we were nearing the stage. Jazz music was playing, the lady who was singing had a powerful and smooth voice that carried over the crowd neatly. There were a few people dancing in the crowd.

“Perhaps having you there will make me nervous.” Mingi’s voice was barely above a whisper and I tensed when I felt his pinkie brush against my own, making me clench my hand into a fist. But a very quiet voice inside my head demanded me to accept Mingi’s subtle request, and willing my heart to stop hammering so hard in my chest, I relaxed my hand and slowly slipped it into Mingi’s. If he stopped walking for a milli-second, I didn’t say anything about it, and he also ignored it. His grip turned firm as he intertwined our fingers together, gently pulling me closer into his side as he smiled at a mother who apologised for his son almost running into us.

I gulped and kept my eyes ahead of me, too nervous to look at Mingi. Holding his hand like this meant nothing in particular, but it was a nice feeling. It made my cheeks warms and heart race. And I didn’t have to look at Mingi to know he was smiling like crazy, his cheeks just as red as mine as we came to a stop behind the dancing people.

Have I started falling for Song Mingi?

『It's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm just saying it's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

You, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

You're what I've been chasing

Show me where my days went』

❱❱ Next chapter

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

so...the festival of light scene was totally inspired by me and my bestie attending it in our city lol; it was sooo beautiful and the pictures in the moodboard were actually taken by us; also, her and I kept laughing about the romantic vibes we were getting, all in all, we had a nice time...and OFC we make everything about Ateez so :))

I wrote that LOL I'm like Mingi, tall enough to reach the top where people haven't scribbled onto yet lol

also, this is what y/n's outfit looks like for anyone wondering, except for the colors as they are the way I have described them in the scene ^^

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darsynia · 1 month

Note

Surprise blurb bomb!

You’re at a conference and a little worried because your boss has enlisted you to present. You’ve got about a day to go, so you’ve been in pacing in your hotel room rehearsing. However, the frustration mounts every time you hear yourself make a little mistake. Your next door neighbor has heard all of this, so they come to knock on your door, checking that everything is alright. When you explain what’s going on, they nod sympathetically, having to present as well. They kindly offer to help you practice, which leads to the two of you falling asleep collapsed on top of each other on your bed. What happens after that? Who’s your babe?

Thank you so much for this!! I chose Steve, and this is teeth-rotting fluff with my signature little characterization moments. I hope you enjoy!!

gif from @askthesuperhusbands

Notes: Pre-Ultron, no warnings, 2,447 words, first draft so I get it out without fussing

Excerpt:

“I get it. Public speaking is hard enough when it’s important, but it’s even harder when there are no friendlies in the audience.” Steve smiles wryly. “That won’t happen here, I promise. I’ll be in the room, because just like with the war bonds, I’m a symbol of what you’re fighting for.”

Always On

“The idea of ‘public relations’ has fallen into disrepute, just like ‘human resources’--and I think their tarnished reputations are related,” you say, hands clutching the edges of the wooden desk chair ‘podium’ precariously balanced on the hotel bed. “I know everyone in this room is well-acquainted with the concept of finding common ground with a myriad of people-- Argh!”

You frown, feeling the judgment of the rumpled sheet hanging on the wall. It’s covering the mirror that had pulled your focus away for the first twenty minutes of this practice exercise, but you still know it’s there. At this point, the sheet is a fig leaf covering your dignity and your inability to stay focused.

It’s past midnight, and the long day is getting to you. The introductory paragraph of your presentation is in the bag, but paragraph two isn’t working at all. It’s your thesis statement, the crux of the whole project, and you know you’re fighting an uphill battle. Without help from the well-respected UNITY Project, the governments of the world might try something extreme to keep the Avengers in line. Each year the group of philanthropists, aid workers, humanitarian lawyers, and other notorious do-gooders meet and choose ten groups to endow aid or oversight on. You’re hoping for the oversight, but it’s a long shot. The group has a sterling reputation, and their clout might be enough to get Secretary Ross to back down.

Your hands ache from where you’ve been clutching at your makeshift podium, but you square your shoulders and try again. “What we’re seeking is a partnership, a way to celebrate this team’s efforts and smooth over their rough edges.”

The sheet is mocking you, so you close your eyes and picture the faceless group you’re going to be appealing to.

“Citizens around the world trust your judgment and their heroism. Together we can ease fears and--” You stop, struggling to remember the word you’d thought up in the rental car on the way to the hotel. No amount of squinting at the note cards does any good. Your notes are rain-splattered and ruined in exactly the wrong spot, of course.

Throwing your head back, you let out yet another miserable groan.

Seconds later, there’s a gentle tap on the door. You recognize the pattern.

“Go away Steve, I’m busy dying of frustration!”

There is silence for over thirty seconds, but you’re not fooled. After counting to fifty-five, you stride over and throw the door open right before Captain America’s knuckles strike the wood again.

“Yes?” Your withering glare doesn’t faze him. Steve just raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a ‘surrender’ gesture.

“Three ‘arghs’ in fifteen minutes gets a visit, you should know that,” he tells you with mock sternness.

Hot embarrassment has you stepping back in dismay. “You could hear that?”

“A few words of the speech, too,” he nods, prompting another ‘argh’ from you.

Your choices are to spontaneously develop superpowers so you can drop through the floor, or do as you always do in this friendship--or let Steve Rogers be the hero. Your dilemma must show on your face, because for once, he doesn’t wait for you to ask for help.

“Something tells me the board of United International Continuing Acronym won’t be convinced by those noises,” Steve says, using Stark’s nickname to cover for the way he pushes past you into the room. For a few seconds, the fronts of your bodies brush against each other, and the heat from those few seconds burns through you.

By the time you recover, Steve’s already across the room, clearing his throat. “I sympathize, believe me. Doesn’t matter how much public speaking I’ve gone through, it still ties my stomach into knots.” He turns and gives you a look of teasing determination. “I have a few suggestions, but I’d have to swear you to secrecy.”

Your crush surges up to color your voice with maybe a little too much affection as you say, “Captain America has secrets?”

The look he shoots you has the same sort of heat from seconds ago. “Here,” he says, pulling a folded page from his pocket. “This is a new one, but back when they first put me in tights, I practiced my script in a room set up with some of these.”

Steve hands you a drawing of a crowd of people, some smiling, some frowning, some turning to their neighbors instead of looking forward. It’s got all of the charm of his usual drawings, despite being more simple than usual. When you look up at his face, his sheepish expression tells you why. He must have drawn it right before knocking on your door.

“Steve,” you breathe, touched by the gesture but also the way he’s captured the spectrum of audience reaction. It reminds you of everything he’d gone through to be the man he is now, the man you’ve fallen for as inevitably as a crowd cheers for a brilliant performance. You couldn’t help it.

“Not now, all right?” he whispers, a kind of pleading in his eyes. “Speech first.”

You blink at him. Did he just acknowledge that something’s different between you? What is it about this corporate hotel hundreds of miles from the home that’s turned everything deliciously sideways? He’s already on the next Act, and you shove those feelings aside to focus like he’s asked you to.

“My place was a quarter this size, but maybe we can…” Steve trails off, propping his drawing on the draped wall sheet and flipping off all but the lights above the bed. Somehow it works, limiting distractions and changing the covered mirror into an easel for his thoughtful drawing.

There’s only one problem.

“Are you planning to lurk behind me?”

“Well, I’d sit in the chair, but--”

“Steve!” You can’t even glare at him, because all you can see is the glint of the fluorescent light reflecting off of his shined shoes. He pushes off the wall and steps forward just enough so you can see the kind look on his face.

There’s no way he could know how romantic that sounds, so you swallow against the sudden tightness in your throat and nod at him.

You start again, and suddenly it works. The chair is a podium. The crowd is real. Steve is somewhere out of sight, rooting for you. You get through the whole thing, and it feels great. You can hear Steve clapping for you through the relieved buzzing in your ears.

Then it all falls apart. When you let go, the chair falls over and smacks you in the face, and the little breeze from your flail of pain knocks the drawing down. Steve rushes over to help, but he bumps into you, and you both fall sideways onto the bed.

The giggles last for a glorious few minutes, and then he says, “Okay, since everything went sideways, can I make it worse?”

You’re lying on a bed with Steve Rogers and his smile is like an early sunrise, so you say yes.

“The concept is good, but you sound like you’re using big words to impress. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not really us. Tony’s irreverent, Clint’s the salt of the Earth, and Bruce is the kind of scientist that puts everyone at ease, at least until he turns green.” Steve turns onto his back, but he doesn’t get up, which feels consequential, despite his criticism. “Nat’s public persona is standoffish but not pretentious, and I’m--”

“You’re folksy,” you interrupt, still stinging from the unfortunate truth of the word ‘pretentious.’ “The epitome of ‘plainspoken.’”

Steve shoots a look over at you, and you realize those two words are exactly what he meant.

“The guy next door,” you add. Inside, you’re crumbling a little bit. Does he think you’re pretentious? Are you pretentious?

Steve rolls to face you again, reaching out to brush his thumb gently across the place the chair had struck you. It’s covered by your hair, but he somehow knows exactly where it is.

“You still have a full day left of the conference before it’s your turn. I could have colored that drawing and given it to you tomorrow, but that wouldn’t have helped tonight.” He pulls his hand back, but sets it on the bed between you. “That’s what makes us a team.”

You’re confused, but comforted nonetheless.

“You paint with words. It’s not that different from art, and every artist chooses how much effort to put in each piece,” he explains patiently. “It’s the same for this. You’re representing everyone, and that means you have to save some of that energy for the physical part of it. Not everyone realizes that.”

“Oh, God,” you blurt out, sitting up. “You are a symbol, just like you said. You’re always on, even at the Compound! How much energy does that take?”

He looks up at you, and the truth in his eyes is painfully intimate. “It’s not as bad now. When I came out of the ice, it kind of felt like I was still in tights. Always exposed for the greater good.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. It’s your job to book him for events. You’re the one shoving him onto the stage.

“No, no, don’t do that,” Steve says, sitting up and framing your face with his hands. “It was worse before, when it was Tony or some random person at SHIELD sending me out. I trust you. This conference was your idea--”

You scrunch up your face with guilt at that, and Steve gets this look of determination on his face. The next thing you know, he’s leaning forward and kissing you. It’s electric, stage lights blaring, orchestra in crescendo, and the velvet curtain rolling closed on the triumphant final scene to the roaring of the audience applause.

Then he’s pulling back, standing, and running his hand over his face. “That was out of line, I’m sorry.”

“It was a masterpiece,” you say, looking up at him with your hands clutching the blanket and your heart in your eyes.

The way his nervous tension completely leaves his body is even more reassuring than the softly-spoken “Oh. Good,” he lets out. His encore wins all the awards your heart has to give: “I didn’t practice that at all.”

Joy colors your voice. “You’re a natural.”

Steve’s ears turn red, and he says, “Well, I should let you get back to it. It’s past one--”

“You could stay,” you rush to say, standing up and stepping past him to pick up the drawing. Behind you, he makes a strangling sort of coughing noise, and you realize what you’ve said. “To practice!”

That just makes Steve gasp your name, clearly amused and scandalized in equal measure, and you groan in frustration. Feeling giddy just destroys your cognitive abilities.

“The speech! What is it about this hotel??”

“A new medium. Canvas instead of watercolor paper. A speech instead of short stories,” he says, setting the fallen chair back upright.

“You know about those?” you ask, surprised. You’ve made a point of working on them only during your downtime.

He has the grace to look apologetic. “Tony made a comment once, that I’d turn up in one of your stories if I offended any world leaders, when I was sent to the UN Grand Assembly.”

“Shit, I forgot I threatened him with that one time when he was being an ass.” Your grumble ended in a colossal yawn. “What time does breakfast start tomorrow?” The conference is a multi-day affair, and missing the early meal had not set you up to stay awake through the panels today. “I won’t have any time to practice this tomorrow night and you’re right, I really need to clean up the wording,” you add, feeling your elation at the kiss drain away with worry.

“Then let’s keep at it,” Steve says, taking the drawing and setting it back up on the sheet. He turns and gives you as wicked a look as you’ve ever seen on his face. “The speech, I mean.”

You wake up to the alarm with a sore neck, your dress pants digging into your hip, and a bed partner. He’s the farthest from a pain in the neck as a man can get, but falling asleep fully dressed with your head on his shoulder wasn’t the wisest decision you’ve ever made. You pull in a deep breath, trying to clear out the mental cobwebs scattered in happy glitter, and Steve tenses up under your head.

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who should have left you to sleep.”

You sit up so he can slip out of bed, knowing that he needs to put distance between you for his own peace of mind.

“Be honest: have you ever voluntarily abandoned a woman who needs your help?” you tease. “In all seriousness, you were a huge help last night, and I’m sure that was outside your comfort zone. That was probably the most I’ve ever seen you talk outside of lecturing Stark!”

“I didn’t even notice,” he says, pulling the sheet off of the mirror expertly folding it over in the corner of the room.

He’s faced away from you, so you indulge in a back-arching stretch while muttering under your breath, “You have no idea how hot that is.”

“Right back at you,” Steve retorts, looking back at you with the sheet in one clenched fist. “I need to get going. Want me to pick up breakfast for you?”

You’re off script and floundering, trying to reconcile the sexy rasp in his voice with this attempt at professionalism. It’s exactly the kind of relationship you’ve always dreamed of, and you find your heart slipping further into romantic oblivion.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you,” He says, holding out a hand to help you up. Once you’re standing, Steve holds your gaze and lifts his eyebrows in a very clear question. Heart pounding, you nod, and he takes your lips in a brief but fervent kiss. He moves back, pausing at the door. “I just thought of something, but it’s--”

“Tell me anyway,” you interrupt. “You don’t have to alter your wording for me.” It’s maybe too symbolic and cheesy, but you’re sleep deprived.

“I’m looking forward to another collaboration,” he says, flashing you a brilliant smile.

Note: I may have to write a sequel with what happens AFTER, given that I impulsively wrote this and missed that the prompt was 'what happens after that' I feel so dumb haha

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america x reader #captain america x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #first kiss #friends to lovers #thank you so much for the prompt my dear!#i found a way to get permanent dark mode on google docs and it means i can actually effing write omg

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creedslove · 8 months

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my period cramps are killing me. (literally I'm crying and laying in my bed rn)

I need my handsome DEA agent to lay down with me and hold me until the pain will finally dissappear 😩

(at this point I think I'm dying, why does it have to be so baad??)

Javier Peña x f!reader

A/N: I know bestie, I've had my period for two months now, I went to the doctor got some meds to cut it but it still won't go away 😭 I can't stand it anymore

• Javi HATES to see you in pain, but when I say he hates it, I mean it, he hates it with passion because he can't bear his cariño suffering like that, and to make things worse, he can't do anything about it

• of course he does what he can, but if he could, he would take the pain away from you, or he would find a way to prevent you from getting your period in the first place

• in fact, Javi knows a very good way to prevent you from getting your period and every time he's buried deep inside your cunt his cock twitches just at the mere thought of it, but he knows he can't do it without a warning, so he does whatever he can to relief your stress and pain

• also, Javi is 100% pro the orgasm method to handle the pain, if he can give you one to fight off your cramps and other discomforts of your period, he will gladly do it, however, he also respects your needs and if that's a no go area for you during that time, he will find other ways of dealing with it

• I will always defend my thesis that Javi was a mama boy while growing up and that's why he learned how to treat women so well, which includes knowing how to handle them when they are in pain, so yeah, you can expect him to make you tea, get you a heating pad and he will make late a night runs into the drugstore just to get your painkillers

• he would also bring you a small treat kinda like a cat, so you can expect him with a granola bar, or a little chocolate or some flower he found on the street, just to see you smile

• he will hold you until you are asleep, he'll rub your back, kiss the top of your head and make sure to remind you the pain will go away and you will soon go back to being his beautiful rayo de sol ☀️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña headcanon #javier peña headcanons

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difeisheng · 2 months

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duel meta — a brief addition

written in reference to the original meta here. i'm making this point its own separate post, as it doesn't fully fit into the thesis of that essay.

in my previous discussion of the donghai duel, i highlighted three lulls in the action where di feisheng could have decided to attack li xiangyi, but didn't, even when he was the one forced into a defensive position. instead he paused, until li xiangyi chose to make a next move against him. my point in talking about these moments was that it demonstrated how di feisheng saw this fight as a proper back-and-forth between equals, not the battle to the death that li xiangyi intended for it to be.

however, what i ignored in that analysis was the point in the duel at which di feisheng moves before li xiangyi, breaking away from their locked blades. it's right after this line:

before this is a cutaway to the battle on the mainland— fire, screams, people on both sides dying. and it's with that carnage weighing on both di feisheng and li xiangyi that di feisheng says this, then shoves aside shaoshi and stabs li xiangyi through the shoulder, pinning him to the roof.

if i had been trying to integrate this into my prior reading of these two's motivations during the duel, this moment would have been an anomaly. my point at the time was that di feisheng pictured the duel as being between two swordsmen, just himself and li xiangyi. while to li xiangyi, this was a battle between sigumen and jinyuanmeng, and the two of them were simply two figureheads. for di feisheng to draw attention to the other fighters he and li xiangyi have with them, is not quite in line with this. i said before that di feisheng purposefully isolated himself on his ship knowing li xiangyi would find him there, as well, so that others in the battle could not interfere.

but, to push that aside and examine this on its own: i find it very interesting that this dialogue, the sole point where di feisheng acknowledges the world beyond the duel at all, is also the singular moment that causes him to alter his previous behaviour throughout the entire fight. it's not li xiangyi attacking him that finally makes him strike first. it's not his own injuries or desire to win, or desperation. it's the awareness of the fact that other people out there are dying while they fight.

di feisheng's leadership of jinyuanmeng warrants a lot more analysis that i'm not going to do here, but to summarize some things myself and others have observed before, he's efficient. he's established the alliance in such a way that there's a clear hierarchy and duties for each person, and that level of organization can function even when he's off dealing with his own matters, communicating things via wuyan. although he shows little interest in managing jinyuanmeng in the present day, i don't think he could've built the alliance up to such a state that it would keep running without him, even while he abruptly went into seclusion for ten years, unless he actually cared about the people who were serving him. and we do his anger when those who were loyal to him die, like when he snaps at jiao liqiao for the deaths of his twelve phoenixes, even though they got a blink-and-you'll-miss-it amount of screentime. they were still important to di feisheng.

(i know jiao liqiao was the one who kept jinyuanmeng going in his absence, but it seems she didn't make any huge changes to how jinyuanmeng was functioning up until di feisheng recovered from his injuries. before that she was ruling, at least outwardly, in his name and interests.)

all this is to say that, looking at his choices in this moment of the donghai duel, i think that that line of dialogue— breaking from his precedent of letting li xiangyi lead the fight— is fascinating characterization to add to di feisheng this early in the show. i've said before that from the moment he appears onscreen, after the opening monologue declaring him a villain and a 大魔头, our expectations of him begin to be subverted. this does honestly alter how di feisheng and li xiangyi could be viewed; di feisheng is now seemingly the one whose people are being attacked and who cannot stand the wasting of unnecessary lives, while li xiangyi is the one who led all this followers to battle for the sake of his dead shixiong's body, and arrogantly miscalculated that he could win.

i love how this show plays with character perception, and how they've built up di feisheng in this way, especially when the majority of his screentime isn't from the source material. this is just one part of it.

#我回来了～#your long-winded meta writer is BACK babey #sorry this isn't very well organized but I've had an up and down night mentally and didn't expect to be writing meta #so. whatever #mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #li xiangyi #feihua #dihua #mlc meta #ashton originals

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tenpintsofsundrop · 1 year

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Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop)

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader Smut Blurb

Concept: Gar can't say no to you. But he can't bring himself to see that as a problem.

Word Count: 1,800

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: spoilers for Titans S1, S2, and S3 if you haven’t seen the show before and want to watch it unspoiled, this is set during S3 when the Titans are staying at Wayne Manor, passing mentions of Gar’s trauma (him being killed during Trigon, him being kidnapped by Cadmus, his parents’ death), dom/sub dynamics - Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘baby boy’, the reader and Gar have an implied pre-established relationship, Gar (kind of) goes into subspace but it’s not explicitly mentioned or described as such, the reader has a vagina, penis in vagina sex, the reader rides Gar, overstimulation - the reader rides Gar through his orgasm and overstimulates him, possibly dubcon - the reader oversimulates Gar when he is not expecting it and he’s in a murky headspace but he does enjoy it and it’s stated in the narrative that he does not want it to stop (hence, the title), finger sucking (Gar sucks on the reader’s finger), unprotected sex, sloppy sex, hopefully that is everything. Just know that this is in line with my usual brand of filth.

A/N: One of my favourite smut tropes (kinks?) is riding a guy through his orgasm and overstimulating him - vastly underutilized. And I randomly got thinking about this + Gar this morning, so have this. I missed my green haired boyfriend, so there will definitely be more smut with him coming soon (I am thinking some stuff with virgin!Gar maybe? let me know what you think of that idea lmao)

...

Gar was someone who had experienced a lot of hardship in his life.

His parents dying when he was still so young, him suddenly having a set of metahuman powers that he wasn’t prepared for - powers that he was kind of terrified of and definitely didn’t know how to use responsibly. Him literally being murdered by his dearest friends while they were under mind control, and then being brought back again and having to heal from the mental and physical injuries. The severe medical torture and resulting mental shitshow that Cadmus had put him through.

It was a lot to have to push down during everyday life, having to pretend he was okay - having to put up a front for everyone else when they simply assumed that he was.

But there were a lot of times when he could forget about all that. Times when he wasn’t actively suppressing his trauma because you made things okay - because you distracted him in the absolute best ways. Times when he thought that literally everything in life was just perfect. And most of those times were when you were on top of him like this.

He would consider this nothing short of literal heaven.

The feeling of your sweet, wet cunt clenching down on him as he laid flat on his back, splayed out on one of the many luxurious beds of Wayne Manor.

(“You need to relax.” You had told him, taking him by the hand and dragging him into the random bedroom. “You’re worrying way too much about everyone else right now. Someone needs to take care of you.”)

And while he had not at all put up any physical resistance against you, pliant under your touch as usual, that conversation had originally started out as him protesting against your thesis. He had told you that: no, he was worrying just the right amount about everyone else, that they needed him. But his protests had quickly died down when you shoved him back onto the bed and drowned out his voice with your tongue.

Gar always had a very hard time saying no to you.

He wasn’t sure if it was selfishly motivated. From the outside looking in, others probably say that it was. Considering that he was a guy, and you were just as horny as him - he never felt the need to say no to you. Especially considering the fact that he had never felt a greater sensation than that of your wet pussy surrounding his cock.

And usually with the promise of that dangling over his head, you had gotten him to do a great number of compromising things, both minuscule and potentially life changing. Or perhaps it was because you were the sweetest little vixen that had captured his heart. And any time you batted your eyes and asked him to do something in that sweet voice, you might as well have been casting a spell on him.

And he knew that it wasn’t just a weak spot he had for you.

You had worked that magic on Conner and Jason before. Gar was actively working under the firm belief that if you simply approached Jason and asked him to stop killing people nicely please, then he would take off the Red Hood mask and surrender himself politely, no questions asked.

But all of that was the farthest thing from his mind as you bounced on his cock.

With your hands sitting on his shoulders, your nails digging into his bare skin. His shirt had been lost at some point while his pants were shucked off around his ankles and caught up against his shoes. But he could barely even focus on his lack of nakedness or your own because he was obsessively caught in the feeling of your cunt warmly hugging around his hard cock.

Though he was slightly wishing that your shirt was off, but far too pussy drunk to simply reach out and lift it off so he could enjoy the sway of your tits in his face without obstruction.

You were a perfect wet vice around him, leaking wetness down over his heavy balls and smearing it up over his stomach as you bounced. And all Gar could really do was take a gentle hold on your hips and appreciate the ride. His face was absolutely knit with pleasure in a way that made you giggle with delight, watching his almost caveman-like expression of tight brows and a heavy set jaw as he stared at the place where you were joined with utterly intense concentration.

You had never seen a prettier man in all your days - those big brown eyes entirely rapt with pleasure, soft lips and a glisten of sweat across his skin that made you even more intent on ruining him.

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy?” Your voice laced around the words, breathy yet so commanding, so strong, holding the power over him as you always did.

It was enough to send a rumble through Gar’s chest, a sharp echo of pleasure from your words.

That was the sacred question.

Of course, Gar never wanted it to end. Ultimately, he just wanted to stay like this forever - buried deep in your sweet cunt, feeling that intense warmth hugging him, having your perfect scent surrounding him and having every worry in the world pushed out of his brain.

But he did feel all the telltale signs - that almost painful tingle in his balls and that deep twisting in his gut that told him it was going to he over too soon. He was going to cum for you, just like he always did.

All he could gather in response was a choked off grunt. But you knew his language well enough by now - you knew him when he was swimming this deep in pleasure, and you certainly didn’t need words. You knew it just by the expression on his face, the growing look of tight-knit desperation, the gentle whimpers that began to escape his lips.

Something so enticing that it caused you to run a thumb along his bottom lip, finding the curve of his mouth to be all too pretty when he let out those sweet little sounds. Naturally, he drew the digit inside and began sucking on it, enjoying the tang of your natural skin oils, something that only pushed him closer to the edge.

Feeling that that sharp whine punched out of his chest, vibrating around your finger only caused you to double down. You bucked your hips harder, riding him with an almost vengeful kick, as though you were trying to push his entire body down through the bed. It was something that caused a loud, pornographic wet smacking to echo through the room - a blatant signal to anyone walking by that the two of you were going at it like rabbits.

If Gar had any sense left between his ears, he would have been thankful for it being such a large house. He would have been thankful for some sense of privacy.

Instead, he was totally brainless as the feeling of orgasm overtook his body. His mouth went wide around your thumb as he released a litany of almost pathetic moans and whimpers and he arched back into the bed, a pure exorcism of pleasure overtaking him. He mindlessly endowed his animal strength onto you - digging his fingers into your hips and forcing you down onto his cock for a few moments, forcing you to still on top of him as he shot his load of hot cum inside of you.

This caused a few hot moans from your lips, nothing but pure enjoyment as you watched the radical pleasure rock him.

It was such an intense orgasm that it made his muscles seize and jump, it easily made his balls ache. By the time his cock had spurted those last bits of cum into you, he thought that his dick would willfully go limp and fall out of you, being just as tired as he was as he collapsed back onto the bed. But he was still semi-hard and throbbing inside your pussy, tingling with overstimulation as you unconsciously clenched around him.

You leaned down to his panting lips, sealing him in a hot kiss.

Gar let out a strangled shriek when you began bouncing your hips again.

A shockwave of hot pin needles flew up his body from the point where you were joined, erratic hot overstimulation overtaking him. His cock forcefully filled with blood again as you clenched down on him harder. Clearly, you were gaining some thrill out of feeling the extra slickness of his cum sliding between the two of you, out of hearing just how wet your thrusts were now.

Gar let out another sharp whine and moved his very limp hands back to your hips. In his mind, it was an attempt to shove you off him, to take a fucking breath. But his fingers only dug into your flesh harder and pulled you down onto his cock with force when he felt a particular hot streak of pleasure flare up through his gut. It was almost against his will - but your pussy was just too fucking good.

“Too much.” He moaned out weakly, a hot puff against your lips, the first thing he had said in an hour of more. “‘s too much.”

You found the way he slurred the words to be entirely adorable - as though he was quite literally drunk on your pussy. The wide gape of his mouth, trying to draw in breath as you continued to punch it out of him, and the tears pricking the edges of his eyes only made it more beautiful.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, slightly breathless yourself.

You continued to slam your hips down on his cock, over and over again planting yourself in that filthy puddle of your mixed cum.

It was a traitorous question.

It was too much of a strain on his body, but it was everything he wanted. He was breathless and brainless and nothing else in the world existed except for your wet cunt squeezing his aching cock, your natural smell filling the world around him, the hot press of your tits against his chest.

The word ‘stop’ didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary.

He let out a strained choking sound, and found himself unconsciously bucking up into you - he found himself enjoying the painful sting that ran through him. Tears leaked from his eyes, and when you reached up to wipe them away, you gave him one last thoughtful sentiment.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whispered quietly against his cheek.

But it seemed that you already knew what his answer would be.

Gar put a hand on your back, cradling you close, shoving his face in your neck and breathing in that perfect aroma of your sweat.

Stop?

You ground your hips down into him, creating nothing but a filthy wet ache. He choked on a moan and found himself holding you still once again so he could fuck up into you harder.

“Please.” He moaned weakly against your skin. “Please, don’t stop.”

#sundrop writes #gar logan #gar logan x reader #garfield logan #garfield logan x reader #titans #dc titans #dc #dc titans fanfiction #dc titans x reader #titans fanfiction #titans x reader #dc titans x you

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tanoraqui · 3 months

Text

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I should make a fucking...(food) web of connected concepts with panels that connect them...

I love how Kabru is just part of this friend group, now. He invited himself and no one's questioning it. Laios invited him to lunch later, and that counts.

I love how everyone is varying levels of "oh fuck" until we get to The Current Party, where it's:

Senshi: thinking intently, a little grimly, about how he could butcher and cook this

Marcille: a dash of 'oh fuck', but also sad, in the way of watching a friend slide down a slippery slope

Chilchuck: incredible dad energy on this line, honestly.

don't you give my son orders, you piece of shit. you aren't worthy of being lord of anything. you protect nothing, wish to help no one, except your own desires. (The Demon never should've been alive at all. It's not suited to it.)

This is gonna look sooo cool animated in color.

I might actually be more offended by the demon wearing Kensuke like normal than by the whole wearing of Laios's body? It's so symbolic.

I want to know how the ancients achieved that - binding the demon such that, while underground, it could only warp reality in service to a living being's desires. Though really, that seems to be how it's always operated - the only desire it ever expressed for itself was to eat the desires of others. Otherwise, it's only shown fulfilling wishes, before it's locked in the dungeon as well as after.

But I wonder if having a physical form gives it the ability to want more? Does it hunger and third and want to rest, now? DOes it really feel a yearning not just for the completion of its plan, but for the open sky and sight of the world which it hasn't seen in so long?

Needless to say, we love a visual parallel.

yep, this sure is the Eating Each Other Cyclically chapter! (This is the Eating Each Other Cyclically story, actually. It's called the ecosystem!)

oh I hate this actually. It's scary in a real way. I do not like being forced to acknowledge that Chilchuck is much, much smaller, weaker and more fragile than Laios. I do not like seeing him curled up and helpless and unable to ever reconnect with his family.

Freak cubed! Actually, how many times has it gone back and forth, now...?

the lion swallowed all of them

Laios ate hte lion in order to swap bodies (ish)

honestly I feel like the demon being counts as eating him in turn. Making Laios's body part of itself, you know? That's eating.

(monster!)Laios ate demon(!Laios)

demon(!Laios) is now eating (monster!)Laios

...so, Freak^5

The parallel to Marcille snapping at Laios to drop the plant seeds in Chapter 2... Love how every now and then people resort to yelling at this man like he's a dog. Truly, he is a beagle of all time (eats Things) ('Things' is an unlimited category of which the details are best left unknown)

THIS IS IT, BITCHES! THESIS TIME!! I'M GONNA USE "IF AND ONLY IF LIKE IT'S A GODDAMN MATHEMATICAL PROOF, BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THIS HAS BEEN PRESENTED THROUGHOUT!

LIVING IFF EATING IFF HUNGERING IFF WANTING.

TO DO ONE IS TO DO THEM ALL, FOR EVERY ENTITY IN EXISTENCE: EVERY RACE, EVERY CREATURE.

LIVING AND DYING, EATING AND KILLING AND BEING KILLED AND BEING EATEN, ARE ALL SIDES OF THE SAME COIN. YOU WILL DO BOTH.

IT'S CALLED THE ECOSYSTEM.

And it applies to social structures as well as biomes btw.

YOU WILL ALWAYS EAT, AND THEN YOU WILL ALWAYS HUNGER FOR THE NEXT MEAL. BECAUSE YOU ARE STILL ALIVE.

Which is why hunger(/living) is poisonous to this infinite being, btw: the cycle is infinite, sure, but specifically because any single creature within the cycle is finite. To exist as part of the cycle, the world, breaks the infinite being, even as the infinite being inevitably destroys the world.)

But most of all:

EATING (IFF BEING EATEN IFF LIVING IFF WANTING) IFF UNDERSTANDING IFF BEING CONNECTED/BEING PART OF

THE FUNDAMENTAL [DESIRE/HUNGER/LIFE EXPERIENCE/CONNECTION/SHARED UNDERSTANDING] OF BEING ALIVE IN THIS WORLD IS [EATING/LIVING/DYING/KILLING/WANTING/HUNGERING/BEING CONNECTED/UNDERSTANDING OTHERS/BEING UNDERSTOOD/WANTING TO BE UNDERSTOOD/WANTING TO UNDERSTAND/WANTING TO BE CONNECTED]

...WHICH DOES ALSO INCLUDE (MONSTERFUCKER) VORE

(This is the fucking...Theseus wrestling the Minotaur statue...of this world... People are going to make this statue of King Laios Eating the Demon... It's going to be in museums...and in the palace... The true curse here is that Marcille is going to have to see versions of this motif for her entire excruciatingly long life...)

#dm lb #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers

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aliusfrater · 3 months

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anyway. im thinking about the fact that sam and dean constantly dying and being brought back is both an explicit exploration of grief through allegorising the concept into repetition as well as a literal exploration of grief every time one of them does die. and i think that's why their first deaths are so much more impactful — apart from the simple fact that it's the only time they die where we're not aware of explicit methods of resurrections (plus it's their first death, it's going to be more dramatic) — it is the actual death; everything afterward (until 1520) is grief. both the audience as well as sam and dean exist in a constant state of grief post season two. and not only does it add to the theme of the horror of the family but it also advances my agenda of mystery spot being the thesis episode of the whole show. in this essay i will

#sam winchester #dean winchester #se referat

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jamieedlund · 3 months

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Thesis wip Legends and fairytales

and June's sketchdump! 🤗

lots of young Aaravos stuffs on my mind amongst other things and one of the brainrot I find fun is instead of being afraid or embracing his ""darkness"" the first time he used dark magic, baby Aaravos just...intimidated it into submission. Because I guess dark magic has a different affect on gods I mean startouched elves??? I also think what makes a person insanely strong is not the fact that they give in to their darkness (like all dark mages) or completely reject their own selfishness and view the world as only black and white (the philosophy the show trying to pedal, which I extremelyyy despise) but someone who acknowledged that they have their inner demons; is willing to face them and accept that it is part of them without giving into its every whims. Which they won't do for Aaravos ever I'm sure but isn't that a neat fun thing to think about. Like man rolled a nat 20 on intimidation and proceeded to devoured his own darkness like hah you're part of me now lol I'm a god.

Aaravos reading his TOS, which I stole from that one bit from brennan's genie rules (make some noise episode 4) I wish I had time to draw this as an animation-

Devastation is when the both of them hit you with the 'we're finishing each other sentences because the answer was so painfully obvious' bit. I just thought it would give everyone chills if animated.

things I constantly think about part 103927 and wish was being said in ss4 if they had just let Callum actually squared up and went after Soren so he can have an epic mage duel with Claudia and Terri in which he actually managed to outwitted all of them and got Soren back.

More brainrot about the adventures they could have had together, this one in particular in which they're going into a king's harem to investigate the death of the women there. It's inspire by the plot for the latest mononoke anime about the "Ooku" - aka it's just a - place where women are gathered to breed with the shogun...the real history of it is- very fascinating and cruel. In the blank dialogue pages I couldn't find the right word to express Callum's worries. Basically he already knew humanity can be ugly, he grew up with that ugliness for most of his life and he's worried that he won't like what he finds here. I think it's a perfect plotline to explore both of their characters on so many personal levels.

aand that's all I got! I've been participating in a fundraising event called Artists for Gaza this month so I barely have a lot of brainrot sketches that looks decent enough to post. I'll leave a link to their carrd below if you're interested in checking them out. I wanted to do my part to help Palestine despite dying on my thesis and trust me I am dying-

As always, thank you so much for sharing and supporting my work. I will get to all of my asks when my thesis is over. Check out Artists for Gaza >>here<<

#the dragon prince #tdp #my art #aaravos #callum #doodle #chibi #you do catch me shit posting #and actual posting #and uh #I hope everyone check out artists for gaza #have a lovely day

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sundrop-writes · 10 months

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Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop)

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

Gar can’t say no to you. But he can’t bring himself to see that as a problem. (aka - Gar is very stressed out about everyone else's problems, so you force him to de-stress in the best way.)

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 1,800

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

A/N: This is one of my favourite Gar smuts that I have written, so I had to re-post it first. One of my favourite smut tropes (kinks?) is riding a guy through his orgasm and overstimulating him - vastly underutilized. And I randomly got thinking about this + Gar this morning, so have this. I missed my green haired boyfriend, so there will definitely be more smut with him coming soon (I am thinking some stuff with virgin!Gar maybe? let me know what you think of that idea lmao).

....

Gar was someone who had experienced a lot of hardship in his life.

It was a lot to have to push down during everyday life, having to pretend he was okay - having to put up a front for everyone else when they simply assumed that he was.

He would consider this nothing short of literal heaven.

The feeling of your sweet, wet cunt clenching down on him as he laid flat on his back, splayed out on one of the many luxurious beds of Wayne Manor.

Gar always had a very hard time saying no to you.

And he knew that it wasn’t just a weak spot he had for you.

But all of that was the farthest thing from his mind as you bounced on his cock.

Though he was slightly wishing that your shirt was off, but far too pussy drunk to simply reach out and lift it off so he could enjoy the sway of your tits in his face without obstruction.

You had never seen a prettier man in all your days - those big brown eyes entirely rapt with pleasure, soft lips and a glisten of sweat across his skin that made you even more intent on ruining him.

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy?” Your voice laced around the words, breathy yet so commanding, so strong, holding the power over him as you always did.

It was enough to send a rumble through Gar’s chest, a sharp echo of pleasure from your words.

That was the sacred question.

If Gar had any sense left between his ears, he would have been thankful for it being such a large house. He would have been thankful for some sense of privacy.

This caused a few hot moans from your lips, nothing but pure enjoyment as you watched the radical pleasure rock him.

You leaned down to his panting lips, sealing him in a hot kiss.

Gar let out a strangled shriek when you began bouncing your hips again.

“Too much.” He moaned out weakly, a hot puff against your lips, the first thing he had said in an hour of more. “‘s too much.”

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, slightly breathless yourself.

You continued to slam your hips down on his cock, over and over again planting yourself in that filthy puddle of your mixed cum.

It was a traitorous question.

The word ‘stop’ didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whispered quietly against his cheek.

But it seemed that you already knew what his answer would be.

Gar put a hand on your back, cradling you close, shoving his face in your neck and breathing in that perfect aroma of your sweat.

Stop?

You ground your hips down into him, creating nothing but a filthy wet ache. He choked on a moan and found himself holding you still once again so he could fuck up into you harder.

“Please.” He moaned weakly against your skin. “Please, don’t stop.”

#sundrop writes #gar logan #gar logan x reader #garfield logan #garfield logan x reader #dc titans #dc fanfiction #titans #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

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kivedreams · 8 months

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I WANT YOU. part. I knj.

pair. idol namjoon x f. reader. f. is latina poc.

genre. falling in love, established relationship, romance, marriage

warnings. +18 racism and colorism discussed [this part does not contain smut, but the story is not made for a minor audience] this super delulu coded [pls tell me if i missed anything ]

synopsis; you make my life shine, and I think I also make yours shine or you didn't know how hard a relationship with a famous person would be

word count: 4.7k

A/N: i let my delusions run free with this one, i think ill be four parts.

next part.

Just a the moment you thought the party was dying down they arrived, is not like you hated the idea of having a party, but this week has been hard on you, nothing went exactly as you planned, having your thesis send back two times in a row, draw you down, that thesis was the last thing between you and your PhD, you knew it was going to be hard, but God it really was testing you, of course you were happy for Namjoon today was a big day for him, he was finally releasing the book that he always wanted to publish a full guide on The Joseon era art and its influence in today's korean artwork, Namjoon was really proud of korean artists, so being able to pay homage to them was a big thing for him and for you, because Namjoon happiness was part of your own.

The tight red dress that you were wearing might have been a bit too much, but it was Namjoon’s gift. It might have been tighter because you had put on some weight due to the stress of these months. Going to the gym or doing any type of exercise was the last thing on your mind. You would have been lying if you did not admit that, it was one of the things that were making you feel insecure tonight, your relationship was already hard, nobody believed that Namjoon the first born child of a korean family, the leader of the most successful kpop group and now Namjoon the writer would settle for you, a latin woman of color, that did not appeal to a single one of the korean standards, you weren't insecure by Namjoon’s feelings, but you were insecure on how everyone else feelings and prejudices might influence his decisions, is not like you were desperate for the ring, you really didn't need it, nor were you prepared for marriage, but sometimes it feel like the only thing that could silenced all the voices in your head, all the social media talk, and of course everyone around you.

“Y/N?” He called for you. You were still in the balcony of the apartment, seated in the light brown handmade chair you purchased for the space, with a glass of wine enjoying the Seoul night, a slight breeze, and of course the beauty of the balcony Namjoon and you have crafted together, a lot of plants were everywhere accompanied by artworks and souvenirs that you both had collected through the years, some on your travels together, some alone.

“Yes, darling” you responded looking at him, Namjoon was an extremely handsome man, you loved that haircut in him, and his choice of clothing today was a masterpiece, that beige suit with a purple turtle neck top was a perfect mix. He looked at you with confusion in his eyes, he quickly brushed that look a way and sais,

“My parents are here, they're asking for you” Are they? was the only thing in your mind

You walked to him with a smile taking his hand, to greet them and most of the guest that have arrived since you little rendezvous to the balcony, you were begging that nobody would notice your weight, your thighs were clearly giving a show in that dress, god I hope the concealer is strong enough to cover the sleep bags in my eyes, do I still have lipstick on?

“Y/N!” His father greeted you “You look so beautiful tonight! How is your thesis going? Are you close to the finish line?” His father always looked happy to see you, but was he?

“Mr. Kim! Thank you! And yes I'm close to the finish line, if everything goes as planned, I will be able to present it in a few weeks” You responded with a smile giving him a hug and doing the same with his mother. She always looked at you, at your hair with curiosity? Of course 4B coils were not the norm in Korea, but Korean beauty standards weren't going to pressure you into hating your beautiful hair.

After polite talks and greetings for a whole night with people that were close to both of you, in professional and personal level, the night was over, Namjoon and you finished saying good bye to the last guest and his agent, the night was a success, as you knew it would be, Namjoon never fails to amaze you, you saw him the whole night , moving around and enchanting everyone, you get it, you too were enchanted by him.

Finally being able to get rid of the uncomfortable shoes and the red lace around your waist that made the dress even tighter and letting Namjoon in the living room talking with the service that was in charge of getting everything clean up and tidy again, walking straight to your room, dreaming of the comfort of your bed, you forgot all the things that were placed on top of it, because you didn't trust any of the frail art pieces to be in the open while everybody drank and mingle, with not other option, you moved to the balcony, walking down to the kitchen first taking a glass of wine with you and politely smiling to the service, Namjoon was out of your sight.

Sitting on the cold floor of the balcony letting your hair free from the detailed bun that it was made into, enjoying the silence and peace of the night. You felt empty, maybe too much stress plus the insecurities in your relationship were passing you the bills, in a few months you would be 30, and if you get your PhD granted, working as a full time curator in the national art museum of Seoul, just what you wanted, but was Namjoon on your side for it? you didn't know.

“Babe” He called, putting a blanket on top of you, you did not realize how cold you were until he did so “ Tired? they are almost finishing, our room is ready, lets go”

You looked at him from the floor with your face resting on the wooden bench, giving him a little nod, but your body was not responding to the idea of standing up, maybe you were too tired, maybe it was that third glass of wine, reminding you that alcohol was not your forte.

“Too tired? “ He said lifting you up, you hugged him, getting flooded by his strong musky scent.

Before you could realize it you were already on the bedroom, headlight turn off, the only light in the room coming from the bed stands, Namjoon sat you on the edge of the bed looking at you with curious eyes, his hands on you waist, you could feel his breathing, warmth, “Can we talk in the morning?” you ask, with almost no energy to spare.

“Is everything ok?” he asked back, now with a worried look on his face.

“Yes, I am exhausted, let's talk tomorrow please” you said standing up making your way to the bathroom, trying to unzip the dress off and failing.

“Ok” He said, hugging you from the back, there it was again his scent, it made you feel so calm, at peace.

He started to remove the dress from you, leaving you there exposed to his eyes, and to yours. You could see the reflection in the mirror, how he was hugging you even harder, tighter, Namjoon loved you, you knew that. He started to remove his own clothes, making you move the other side of the sink to remove your makeup.

You heard the water running in the tub, namjoon got close to you naked, “Want to take a bath?”

“No, I’ll take a quick shower and go to bed”

“Ok darling “ He said, kissing your neck. Making you move.

He flicked due to the inspected action “I'm not in the mood to have sex” You said, before he could say anything.

“Is ok, I just want to feel you…” he said with a hurt look, you took a step back using the shower as an excuse. Namjoon was even more confused, because you never rejected physical touch, so it felt as if you were rejecting him, but you weren’t, you just wanted to reject the feeling that you had for him, because it felt like you had everything to lose.

It was around 2AM when you two were in bed together, Namjoon pulled you close, and you couldn't say no, you couldn't do that to him again. Nighttime passed through your eyes seeing the sun rise that sunday morning, you weren't able to sleep just thinking about all the possibilities, weighing your options, you could finish your phd and go back to your country, even though it was useless, jobs for a art history doctor, were not easy to find everywhere, you didn't think that you would be able to continue to live in korea after breaking up with him… the thought made you sob, you couldn't stay in bed anymore, so you quietly stood up, walking to your safe place the balcony.

The living room was like it always use to be everything clean up and in its place, you saw the blanket that namjoon used on you last night perfectly folded, taking it to the balcony with you, a cup of tea to clean your mind and a lonely space for you to cry in peace, and there you were cuddling up in the chair, with the cold morning breeze it was 6AM, but you were crying, because there were no other options for you, you knew, Namjoon would not settle for you, you'll never live up to the standard needed to be his wife, so it was better to finish it now, than wait for later.

Only your cries and the mobile hanging in the side could be heard, so that was it, like that, it was going to be over.

“Y/N?!” He called, and you used all your strength to hide your tears, but of course he noticed.

“Are you ok honey? Talk to me” You could hear the worry in his voice, you really tried to pull back the tears, but seeing him did not help

And there, both of you were, him hugging you and giving you solace, until your crying stopped, and all you could feel was his heartbeat, his hand going up and down comforting you. There he was for you, and you were about to end a 4 year old relationship.

You meet namjoon 7 months into arriving in seoul, while you were doing your master your favorite professor suggested you to pursue a doctorate in Korea, she knew people, she could get you a internship in Seoul’s national museum while you studied, and of course she knew people in HanYang university, you knew she was an important woman in the area, but you sub estimated her contacts and power, and there you were a year later accepted into Hanyang university with a full scholarship and paid internship, you didn't know how, but the rumor that you were there due to nepotism spread all over your department reaching your workplace, while it was true that your professor helped you, the scholarship was won fairly due to your grades and the ingenuity of your master's thesis. It made your work and student life harder, as if the racism and colorism wasn't enough, but of course you weren't there to make friends, you were there to finish your studies and make a name for yourself.

That just made everyone hated you more, your coworkers thought it would be great for you, a newly hire to conduct a private view of a new exposition for a VIP, at that point you did not know if it was the racism, the nepotism rumor or because they did not want to make it themselves; but at the end that's how you met namjoon, of course you knew who he was, you might not been his fan, but you knew what his impact was, the quality of his music, and the power he had. His whole presence made you nervous, but you weren't going to risk your job nor lose the professionalism. He ended up being there because the director invited him to look at the new collection that you direct boss had picked, but he wanted it to be private, he wanted to enjoy it, and that's how the both of you ended up there, sitting on the floor of the museum admiring the work behind the main art piece.

“Now I understand, why he wanted me to look at it in person” he said with a smile “it is magnific, it was worthy escaping from the studio for this”

“I know, art can free you, it's like the whole world shut down for a minute and you can breathe” you said, genuinely happy, because he was really calm and easy to talk to, so you weren't nervous anymore, it was a success.

“Indeed” he said looking at you, you felt the warm in your face because of the way he was looking at you, he stood up and helped you too “It has been a pleasure Y/N, meeting you and the collection, I think now I am supposed to take a photo” You got frozen en place, his voice was deep and raspy, it got you flustered, you came back to your senses

“Y-yes, you do, gimme a minute to look for the camera” You said moving quickly.

You took various photos of him, he looked great in every single one, Namjoon was a handsome man, and on top of that he was so humble and easy, maybe you expectatives where in the low as soon as you heard the world VIP or maybe Namjoon was just different, he made your heart move faster.

While you were tidying up he approached you with a question,

“Y/N would you like to take a photo with me?” it surprised you , but you did not have the ability to say no.

He pulled you close, you didn't know what to do, and he noticed, so he just told you to smile, you did so, but only god knows how you ended up looking in that picture. After that he said his farewell, and you could see his bodyguards getting closer than they were before.

It was such an experience it shaked your life for the next days, you could only think of him and his strong scents, it was so good, like a forest, as the freshness of the summer, Namjoon really did a number on you, you googled half of his life in those days, and started to listing to his music, it was really good, now you understood even more his fame. At the moment that you thought that you were forgetting the flustered feeling that he led on you, he posted it, he posted the photo that he took with you, you had a start sticker on your face, and his caption left you thinking about him even more,

art can free you, the whole world shut down for a minute and you can breathe

Did he post that because of you? Did he?

====================================

It was a normal thursday, you were in the subway on your way to work, thinking about the essay you had due this sunday, it was almost done, but you felt it was missing something, moonchild playing on your airpods. The day promised to be rainy, it always rained in seoul, but not in the sad depressing way it rained in London, Seoul’s rain was calm and nostalgic, sometimes it was full of rage.

You didn't have much to do at work that day, the inauguration of the exposition was a success, you replied to the emails you had, sent some codes and updated the maintenance date of some artworks.

“Miss. Y/N, Mr. Park is asking to see you, if you could go to his office please” the voice caught you by surprise, it came from Mr. Shin, executive assistant of the museum director, the surprise was more in him coming directly to see you instead of sending you an email. Have something happened, did you mess up something…

You colleagues gave you strange and curious looks, it wasn't a normal situation, and their looks worked as a further confirmation.

Walking through the administration hallways behind Mr. Shin, got you nervous, what could've gone wrong why are they calling you, are you fired? no, R.R.H.H would’ve called for that. Mr. Shin led you to the office door and retired, you could not bring yourself to knock at the door scared, but there was no other way of escaping it. You knocked on the door twice, until you heard a deep voice say, “Come in”

You opened the door using all your strength and calm “Good morning Mr. Park, how may I help-

You stopped on your word when you saw Namjoon sitting in the middle of the room, Mr. Park's office was big, two mauve sofas facing each other in front of the big brown desk, and Namjoon was seated in one of them looking at you with a smile.

“Hello ‘Y/N” his deep voice filling the room, “Please sit down’” he said signaling the sofa in front of him

You were frozen in your step, why was Namjoon there? you quickly got back to your senses, and greeted him sitting in front of him, you didn't know if the nervousness was visible, your hands were sweaty, while they rested on your knees.

“I know you got up here thinking you were going to see YoungJo, I am sorry for that, but I did not wanted to make a fuss, hope you understand” you nodded in comprehension, of course it was going to be worse if Kim Nam Joon came calling for you, it was already weird Mr. Park doing so.

“I'm going to be direct, would you like to work for me?” The shock was painted in your face “I want someone to curate some art pieces for my parents house, and for my house too, since our conversation last week, I feel that you would be perfect for it, we share the same art vision”

You couldn't say a word, he was waiting for your response, but since you stood there in silence he continue “Money is not the problem, nor is the time, please name your price and tell me when we can start working together”

“I-I, are you sure? wouldn't you like someone more professional for this? someone with more experience in the area” you muttered, still lacking the words.

“No” he said solemnly “I am not looking for experience or somebody with a name in this, I want you and your fresh views, I read your master thesis, and I know your working in your doctorate, as I said your vision is what I want, it amuse me”

“Can I think about it?” You said, but what was there to think.

“Of course” he said “Here look, this is my personal number, you can call me or add me to Kakao, and my agent number in case I don't respond, but it is unlikely” he handed you both of the cards, looking at your shocked face with a smile. “If someone asks, just tell them that YoungJo confused you with someone else, ok?”

You nodded, still feeling out of place, looking at his almond shaped eyes, he said goodbye and left, letting you there. You slowly stood up, and walked to your department, art acquisitions, as soon as you arrived your coworkers started whispering. You sat down keeping face, when you were about to start working, Anja, who seated next to you asked,

“Hey Y/N what was that about?” with curiosity flooding her face, you smile and said loud enough,

“It was nothing, looks like they were calling someone else and somehow they got to me” you said shrugging your shoulders, resting importance to it, with you saying that the whispering and the looks finished.

The rest of the day was normal, but you still could feel the nervousness in your gut, he read your thesis, and wanted you to help him curate art for his family house and his home, it feel surreal, to good to be truth, but if it was, the opportunity was amazing, Namjoon would become your first private client, the scholarship money was decent, and you pay wasn’t that bad, but you knew that whatever Namjoon would pay you would be enough to pay rent until you found a space in the campus dorms. You weren't sure yet, there wasn't a big reason to say no, but you felt insecure. What if your work does not live up to his expectations?

You arrived home putting those thoughts to rest, working on your assignments and studying your lectures, before you could realize it, it was already past midnight and you knew what you were going to say.

Hello Mr. Kim,

I would love to work with you, please let’s discuss terms and conditions.

Have a great day, “Y/N”

12:51 am

Looking at your phone screen maybe it was too short? but it didn't need any more it was concise, you hit sent, without realizing, that you did not programmed the text message to be sent at 9 in the morning, panicking looking at the screen, until those 3 hell looking dots started blinking,

Amazing, and yes I’ll have a great day ;)

knj

12:52 am

===========================================

And there you were the next day, in front of Namjoon’s workplace building, he asked you to come the next day to discuss the job requirements and pay, you set a 3PM meeting with him, going to the big doors of HYBE ent. you were nervous hand sweating approaching the reception, you'd feel the looks, but is not like you cared anymore, but maybe you should had hided your hair today, everyone at work was already use to it, but this was a new environment, the comfort of your usual places made you forget where you were.

“Hello good evening, I have a meeting” You say approaching one of the well groomed ladies in front of you, she looked you up and down, and say,

“Excuse you?” Your korean might not be the best, but it wasn't bad, now being here for almost 8 months it had clearly improved, you repeated yourself, and then she ‘understood’

“Ok, May I know the name of the person and their department please?” she said with a smirk in her face,

“I don't know his department, the name is Kim Nam Joon” she and the two ladies at her side looked at you like you were a rare species.

“Are you sure of that?” She said with a shuckle, she wanted to laugh, it was clearly on her face.

“Yes I am sure, I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't” you said annoyed.

“Miss please, don't shame yourself in here, please go, or I'll be obligated to call security” the disgusted expression on her face saying everything you needed to know.

“Could you at least call him to verify?” keeping the last strand of politeness you asked.

“No. Please leave or I'll call security” she said standing up signaling the big crystal doors.

You were mad, not knowing what to do walking down to the doors, hearing his laughs and the looks of the people around, until of course your brain reacted, you were a smart girl after all,

Hello Mr. Kim I am already here

2:58 pm

Ok, amazing please come to my studio they'll tell you the floor ;p

2:59 am

I am not being allowed, I went to the front desk and they asked me to go, should I?

3:00 pm

What? why? please dont leave, youre in the lobby right ill come to you

3:00 pm

You read the last text, still being mad but now you knew that namjoon actually wanted you there, you stood close to the door still with some of the looks in you, but they couldn't send you out, you haven't done anything and you could easily say you were going to the store. 5 minutes passed and you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket Namjoon was calling you.

“Hi Y/N? on what side are you?” his voice sounded agitated, as if he had run.

“Hello, yes, I’m close to the doors, I have a white cardigan and a brown plaid scarf”

“I think I see you” and when he said that, you heard the commotion, there he was, his hair looking frizzy, like he had been passing his fingers through it. He had a pale green sweatshirt, a dark brown jacket and light brown trousers.

You heard the call finish, and he was getting closer to you, the people in the lobby were looking at him, and you were too but not with the same eyes. Namjoon looked so hot, he smiled at you, he was happy to see you and that calmed your heart.

“Hello Y/N, I thought you would leave” he said, extending his hand to you, you shaked hands with him.

“I almost did” you said, trying to conceal the discomfort in your voice.

“What happened, why couldn't you come in? it was just a call away” he said smiling to the people around you, you started walking with him and two bodyguards started walking at the sides.

“I explained that to the lady but she did not care to confirm that”

“Who?” the demanding tone clearly in his voice he stopped to look at you, his eyes waiting for an answer

“T-he lady with the ponytail” you mutter, namjoon’s eyes intimidate you.

“Is ok” he said, dragging you to the front desk, “Can I have a visitors pass for MY guest” he was clearly annoyed, and you were too, the face in the lady was priceless, she was between shock and disbelief, until she actually needed to talk,

“C-can I have some form of ID? " she asked, you opened your purse to take your passport, going directly to your work visa.

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Namjoon drove you to his studio, scanning his face on the door. The hallway to it was beautifully decorated with small and big art pieces, Namjoon really had a great taste, his studio was small but cozy, you could feel how he crafted every space himself, it screamed his whole personality.

“Please sit down” he said and you did so “Before we begin I am obligated to made you sign a NDA, is just protocol” he said sitting in from of you handing you a folder

“Yes, I understand” you said, giving a quick read to the NDA, you signed because it was ok and handed it to him.

“Ok, perfect. Do you want something to drink? I’m making myself a coffee” he stood up waiting for your answer.

“Water would be fine”

“I don't like to beat around the bush Y/N, I want you to pick beautiful and meaningful pieces for me, I would do it myself” he brought a glass of water for you, while holding a cup of smoking coffee “But I am pretty busy right now and I like you, and your style. Your thesis in Seurat, was an enjoyable read, and I feel that your fresh vision would be perfect for what I want” He sat down in front of you taking a sip, you did the same, Namjoon made you nervous, his aura was intoxicating.

“I get it, still, I don't have a full experience curating, I might have the theory but I stick lack the practice” you said being honest

“I'm giving the practice to you, what about 15% for every piece you pick for me? " he said with a smile that made his dimples show up.

You smiled at him “What about 20%?” You smirked.

“25%, do we have a deal?” he put down his cup to look you directly in the eyes.

“W-we do.” you smiled at him nervously due to his gaze.

“You could've said 50% and I would have said yes. I just want you.” He said standing up, giving you his hand, his words made you lose your breath.

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from delululand with love, kive <3

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