12 Hour Flight = Writing And Day Dreaming For 12 Hours

12 hour flight = writing and day dreaming for 12 hours

𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝑒𝓊𝓍. 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝑒.

✿ summary: getting stranded at a party might not be the best thing ever, but meeting the famous french striker under mistletoe is definitely a plus

✿ ft. noel noa

sitting alone at the bar at a christmas party you weren't invited to wasn't the best feeling in the world. your best friend, who used you as her work partner's plus one, had left you, preferring to "work." the poor athletes were almost running from her if they saw her, leaving her to wallow in the corner without you.

the non-alcoholic drinks you were forced to consume as the designated driver weren't exactly helping you pass the time, only making your bladder feel smaller and smaller. getting up from the bar, you ventured deeper into the party to find the bathroom.

as you walked, your eyes couldn't help but wander around, trying to find your friend, but to no avail. you slowly remembered what happened right before you entered the party.

"[y/n]! you have to keep your eyes open!"

"what? take a breath-"

"i can't! not when noel noa is here!" she frantically flicked her head from side to side, scanning the empty streets like he was going to appear like magic. 

“that’s the famous striker, right?”

"only the number one striker in the world! you have to find him and call me. if i see him here and interview him, i could get that promotion." she sounded hopeful, a smile on her face, but it dropped, her rbf shining through her happy persona when she saw your skeptical expression.

"pwease [y/n]~" she grabbed your hands and begged, almost getting down on her knees. 

“ok, ok! i’ll help you find this guy. just please get off the floor. someone could have puked on that.”

"thank you, [y/n]!" her bone-crushing hug knocked the wind out of you. once that bodyguard let you in, she ran around like a chicken without a head, trying to find the mystery man. too bad you didn't know what the famous striker looked like. you didn't know his nationality or team; you just knew his name and the position he played. not very helpful.

the tinkling of martini glasses and the sound of heels across the marble floors echoed across the room. popping champagne bottles, squeals, screams, and forced laughter would occasionally pipe up, always sounding the same. a massive christmas tree filled with tinsel, ornaments, lights, and anything else you could imagine decorated the room perfectly, lighting up the space and almost brushing the towering ceilings. you felt like an ant in the room, as if the room knew you didn't belong here.

the bathroom line felt like eternity, like when you were younger and had a nightmare, that stupid clock ticking every second going on until you finally fell asleep under your blankets. soon the line dwindled and dwindled down until you finally could get in and out. you dried your hands on the air dryer and shook your hands to get any remaining water off as you walked out the door.

now, you have nothing to do. you didn't work for this company, hell, you didn't even know what they did. everyone here looked rich and reeked of money. at least when you were in line for the bathroom, you had a purpose. but now you were just standing there. you felt like a ghost, people passing through you, not even acknowledging your existence.

you just wanted to go back to the bar; who cared what look that bartender would give you. so that's what you did, walking past women with candy cane red lips and men who smelled like more than you would ever make in a lifetime. suits and dresses that seemed so foreign to you.

but out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friend in that velvet low-cut tight dress on the second-floor mezzanine. she was talking to some expensive-looking man with a girl probably half his age on his arm; she was putting on that fake smile and laugh.

she had left you for a solid two and a half hours; you were going to hang out with someone. and that someone was going to be her.

so you made your way to the luxurious stairs, cascading velvety carpets that could rival the British monarchs. you excused yourself when you bumped into someone and finally reached the stairs, some men coming down them.

while passing a rather tall and muscular man, one of his friends whistled and laughed at the man who paused, along with you. both of you turned to see his friends; the one whistling and giggling looked way too drunk to be going anywhere near stairs. the man was holding onto a bland-looking one with blue eyes who looked rather nervous, trying to steady the swaying one.

you shot him a confused glance, your eyebrows raising in confusion, before turning your attention to the man standing beside you. his head was tilted upward, his gaze fixated on an arrangement of ferns- mistletoe, delicately suspended above. the soft glow from twinkling fairy lights adorned the surroundings.

in that moment, realization dawned upon you, and your eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and understanding. the air around you felt harder to inhale. you instinctively took a step back, caught off guard by the situation. however, the man beside you moved quicker than you’ve ever seen, his eyes widening in concern.

time seemed to slow as his arms encircled you, preventing any further descent down the stairs. the touch was both reassuring and electrifying. as you looked up into his eyes, you couldn't help but notice the subtle warmth that lingered. it felt so cliche. 

"are you alright?" his voice was filled with genuine concern, and you could feel yourself relax into his arms with those words.

but even with his words, your mind trailed off, going to admire him. what was he? a model? his cologne smells expensive, like every other perfume and cologne here, but at the same time it was distinct. there was an underlying uniqueness, a grounding minimalism that set it apart. you couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it held an allure that was nothing like you ever felt before.

you felt gross, disgusted even at what you were doing, taking him in like this, memorizing the details- his scent, the curve of his lips. god, you felt like a pervert. you chided yourself, feeling a twinge of discomfort at your own actions.

"i'm fine... sorry about that," you stammered, breaking the spell of your silent observations. awkwardness settled in, magnified by the awareness that his friends, the blonde one with a sly smirk and the black-haired one appearing uneasy, were keenly observing the exchange. your gaze flickered between them, questioning the dynamics of the trio.

"it’s fine. as long as you’re alright." the moment ended with him helping you back onto your feet, looking you over to double-check if you weren't lying.

"it's fine. as long as you're alright," he reassured, gracefully helping you back onto your feet. his lingering concern painted a genuine sincerity across his features, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of gratitude. as the moment concluded, his eyes scanned over you once more, ensuring your well-being. 

“don’t forget-” hick “to kiss you two,” the drunk man laughed hard, almost falling off of the bland one's shoulder who grabbed him quickly.

"don't forget-" a hiccup interrupted the drunken man's proclamation, “to kiss you two,” he abruptly erupted into laughter, teetering dangerously on the edge of his bland companion's shoulder. 

who the hell was this guy? your life wasn't some circus to watch, forcing you to kiss this random stranger.

"i'm sorry about him," the boy apologized, his eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and genuine remorse. "come on, let's go." he attempted to drag the blonde one down the stairs, who continued to whine about wanting to witness some "action." eventually, the duo disappeared, leaving you and the intriguing white-haired man alone on the stairs.

the silence that followed carried a unique tension, the remnants of an awkward encounter mingling with the loud ambiance of the surroundings. The mistletoe above seemed to cast a soft glow, as if nature itself was conspiring against you two.

"that guy’s something," you remarked, breaking the quietude with a light-hearted tone, attempting to diffuse the lingering discomfort. The white-haired man offered a wry smile, his eyes holding a subtle amusement that hinted at shared bemusement.

“so… why are you here?” you ask him to try to prolonged the conversation for as long as possible.

"They're organizing this celebration for my team."

“you’re team?” you ask a little confused.

“Bastard München” he responds curtley.

Realization finally dawns on you, and you recognize the man in front of you.

“are you- are you noel noa?” you stammered, feeling like some teenage girl. you didn’t even know much about this guy, but your friend went on and on about him. you always tuned her out, but she seemed so passionate about him.

“kiss! smoochie smoochie time~!”

“kaiser!” 

"get-" a loud grunting noise left the blonde, and a squawking noise left the other, "off of me, isagi!" they struggled against each other, arms reaching out to try and push them off each other.

“i thought they left,” you tried to laugh but when you looked back at the famous man in front of you, you stopped. his face almost seemed blank with a tinge of surprise if you could even call it that.

“it can’t be helped,” he sighed, his voice carrying a gentle undertone that resonated with unspoken emotions. as he reached up, his fingers delicately traced the outline of your face, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his eyes, a reflection of emotions too deep for words, held yours in a silent conversation.

a quiet pause lingered in the air, building anticipation, before he slowly leaned in. in that moment, time seemed to suspend, and the world around you faded away. 

his breath, warm against your skin, and as he closed the distance between you, his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss starting with a tender press of lips. both of your arms remained at your sides not wanting to overstep the invisible boundary. even without hands, it was as if each touch was a gentle caress, a delicate deliberate pressure. the sensation was feather-light, a sweet brush of affection that spoke volumes in its subtlety. each movement was a caress, as if exploring the contours of your lips in a sweet, unhurried dance. it was the opposite of forceful, a slow, deliberate exploration, leaving a lingering warmth.

even when he pulled away, cheeks dusted pink, promising his manager would send you tickets to the next match, you could still smell that expensive cologne after he left.

𝒸𝒾𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾è𝓂𝑒 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇. 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈.

✿ summary: you're warm and make him feel fuzzy inside even if that can’t happen

✿ ft: leona kingscholar

a bedroom with three walls maybe wasn't the best place to sleep during a snowstorm. winter breeze ghosting over your face and exposed toes like a ton of iced bricks.

however, all hopes of leaving the freezing room were lost. the sleepy lion man held you tight in his arms, holding you close to him. he felt like a furnace heating you up. his brows knitted together while he squeezed you impossibly closer.

he was more stubborn than you thought, locking you in his freezing bed like a prisoner. you tried to wiggle out of his death grip, miraculously succeeding only to get tugged back into his arms.

“go to sleep,” he grunted, pulling you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head, letting you get the perfect position to get that natural scent he had. he smelled like flowers, no help to the botanical garden and dusted with the small scent of sweat from training.

he would be lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat enjoying your company beneath the warm sheets. sure, he’s warm and he didn’t need you, but you were just so… warm. he didn’t know why but with you, he felt like he didn't come to this school for nothing. his family isn't breathing down his neck when he's with you.

of course, you don’t need to know this and never would know this. so for now, you're stuck in his bed being shielded by him.

what’s more, what you never needed to know was how fast leona's heart was beating. the small sweat on his face, a contrast to the rest of the room. this never was supposed to happen. the feelings he harbored deep inside. ignoring you until you finally came over to ask him why he hated you; the complete opposite of the truth. yes, there was plenty of room in the dormitory but at the same time, when was he going to get another opportunity like this again? you would just say you were going to be late to class and grim is failing a magic class and dragging down your grade. he needed this chance, this opportunity.

so he told you to stay, saying it wasn't safe to go back to the mirror chamber and walk through the inevitable snowstorm happening. of course, you believed him. he was one of the smartest people you knew.

he did want the extra warmth your body provided. yes, he was practically a magical fireplace but he needed something to keep him warm. that's your job. to keep him warm so he can sleep. not to make his heart flutter and feel like it was going to leap out of his throat with the murmurs of ‘i love you’. you were doing the opposite of what you were supposed to do. making him feel like a puddle of water hot enough to evaporate and keeping him up with swarming thoughts of why you were staying with him or if you could hear his heart bumping.

he did wonder what malleus would think if he heard about this. his precious mortal having to seek refuge from him, a wannabe prince instead of fae. that thought couldn’t help but make him smirk, nuzzling you closer. his scent was clinging onto you, no doubt not leaving the next day.

so he continued to hold you closer trying to memorize your every movement, the way you breathed, the way your hands held onto him, the way your face looked when you slept, clinging onto him.

so until the moment you reciprocate his feelings, he'll stay here. waiting. longing. so close to you yet so far, never aware of how you truly felt for him.

Got impatient waiting for Min Ho fan fiction so i made one in a minute

I hate it. I want it to burn. But here 🥰🫴

No pronouns used

Gif by @showgifs

Imagine trying to find some skin care products your friend recommended so you go to the nearest beauty shop by your dorm.

You walk in and look around for the skin care for a while staring at the link your friend sent you. Your gaze flickers from the photo of the cream back to the shelves wondering if it was even at this store. The workers asked you if you were alright but you nod and give them a smile saying you were fine.

After thirty minutes of loitering you decide to leave thinking you were unlucky in choosing the location. Before you could step out you feel a tight grip on your wrist and you turn back to see a handsome stranger in a white hoodie and some gray jeans. He seemingly glares at you looking you up and down and muttering words in Korean under his breath.

Before you could even understand what was happening he started dragging you throughout the store mumbling things under his breath like, “This can help with acne,” while placing seemingly random products in your basket. “Best treatment for blackheads and pores,” a nose strip gets placed in.

You protest trying to pull your wrist away and try to explain you won't be able to pay for the basket that seems like it could overflow if you keep walking with him. “Stop complaining. You're going to get wrinkles.” He grabbed an anti-aging cream this time and turned around to look you up and down again. You felt self-conscious under his gaze wondering if you should have tried harder with your outfit even if it was the weekend.

“Did you even try waking up in the morning?” He asked you with a tone that sounded like you woke up just to annoy him. You tried to hold back a scoff and discussed face at his words.

You can't even respond before he drags you to the cashier and looks at you with a raised brow.

“I’m sorry, but I can't pay for it.” You apologize for looking at the two zeros after the $34. “It’s too expensive anyways. I’m sorry for wasting your ti-”

“Stop apologizing.” He scoffs, flipping out his card from his wallet. He doesn't bat an eye as he places it in the register.

“No-! You really don't have to do that. Let me repay you somehow.” You tell him but something in your gut told you to let him pay for it and run with all the skincare you had no idea how to use.

“Who said I wasn't going to let you repay me?” He replied with a snarky voice. The cashier placed the jars, tubes, small cardboard boxes, and any other products he bought for you in a bag.

“It could take a while but I can get you the money-”

“7:30 pm tomorrow at the new French restaurant. Don't be late.” He turns around and starts to leave the shop. “I’m Min Ho. You don’t need to be afraid to follow me on insta. I have that effect on people.” You can hear a cocky laugh leave his lips as the automatic glass door closes leaving you staring at his retreating feature.

Maybe you should go shopping for a cute outfit today as well.

GUESS WHOS BACK FROM A 3 MONTH HIATUS

Dating sucks and real men will make you wish you never learned how to read and write

Hopefully i’ll start writing more regularly now because i want to be able to make a master list soon.

More Min Ho fics are in the works i would never leave you guys hanging again ❤️❤️❤️

i also made a wattpad account if you want an extra read

Wattpad - @shellingtons_bae

Current fic is a shes the man inspired various blue lock x reader fic

Im plotting out a 10 things i hate about you fic with chifuyu x reader based on bianca and cameron. That will come out soon hopefully

They’re definitely not my best work and i wrote them to try and not get out of the habit of writing for my own enjoyment. Dont let your boyfriend tell you what to do or what makes you happy ❤️

Check it out if you want !

starting off no nut november with the racist ginger in one of my classes telling me to suck his dick or he’ll shoot one of my friends