Unbothered. Moisturized. Happy. In His Lane. Focused. Flourishing.

unbothered. moisturized. happy. in his lane. focused. flourishing.

STOP. moment of gratitude for those precious times of breathing from your nostrils when you don't have a stuffy nose

mingyu brainrot

More Than You Wanted

Request: HALLO MY DEAR! Welcome back to writing 💛 May I HUMBLY request either 7 or 9 (or both cause we all love that hurt comfort spice) with the one and only Mr. Kim Mingyu? He's moved into bias zone, I am ASHAMED /s

Prompt:

7) "Doesn't matter what happens...if you call me, I will always answer."

9) "I don't want them. I want you."

Prompt list can be found HERE.

Pairing: Seventeen Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Angst/Steamy

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The carpet in your apartment building was disgusting. Covered in dirt (at least you hoped that's what the stains were) and always kind of moist, you avoided contact with it at all costs. But now, you were sitting on it. Slumped against the wall behind you with your head in your hands, you were sitting on the world's dirtiest carpet and crying.

It had been approximately two hours since you had contacted your building's repair man, and an hour since you talked to anyone in management. You had locked yourself out and were completely exhausted. All you wanted was to lay down and maybe binge watch your favorite drama. You hadn't signed up for enrichment time outside of your enclosure today.

Cringing as the idea came across your mind, you looked helplessly down at your phone. It would be just so easy to text your ex-boyfriend. The two of you had never met up to exchange each other's things, so he still had your key.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, you lifted up your phone and scrutinized the battery life. It was running below 10% at this point, so if you were going to do it, you needed to suck it up. Scrolling almost to the bottom of your saved text messages, you found Mingyu's name and tapped.

you busy?

That was safe, right? You didn't want to make him worry and you certainly didn't want to inconvenience him. You had done enough of that in your past relationship.

You weren't surprised when you saw typing bubbles appear before you had even locked your phone. Of course, he was going to be hyper available during your crisis.

Depends. What's up?

What a terrible non-response.

i was wondering if you could stop by and drop off my key?

Want me to bring the rest of your stuff?

not if it's not already with you...

"Why would it already be with him?" you muttered. "Please use your one active brain cell before you hit send again."

i just really need my key

Contrary to what you may believe, I have no plans to break into your apartment. Can I drop it off at the end of the week?

You groaned, leaning back and lightly bonking your head repeatedly on the wall behind you.

Resisting the urge to reply with "that's fine" and leave your fate in the hands of your apartment complex, you quickly typed out a message.

i locked myself out of my apartment.

Give me 10 minutes.

Breathing a momentary sigh of relief, you commended yourself. Texting Mingyu had not been easy, but it was a necessary evil for your own mental well-being. Surely you could play nice for approximately 45 seconds while he handed you your key and walked back down the stairs. You had 45 seconds worth of gratitude in your system, didn't you?

Closing your eyes, you tried not to think too hard about seeing him again. Naturally, that had the opposite effect, and you began dragging out memories that you hadn't touched in weeks. Your relationship had started out innocently enough. You had been an English tutor for the entertainment company that Mingyu was signed to and tutored him weekly. After spending hours upon hours with each other, a natural closeness formed between the two of you. While yes, you had been close to all of the artists in one way or another, something with him was different. It was something warmer, something more incendiary.

You found yourself actually paying attention to how you dressed or how you styled your hair. Starting to become overly interested in your personal appearance likely should have been a red flag. You knew better than to start anything with an idol.

Against your better judgement, your sessions quickly turned into flirting for hours. Mingyu was incredibly smart, so it wasn't a surprise when he was ahead in his English lessons. With the spare time, you got to know each other. Finally, one day he asked you out for dinner.

With time, the two of you had become inseparable. That was until the company found out about the burgeoning relationship. It only took days for them to threaten Mingyu until he said he couldn't see you anymore. It came as no surprise that a few weeks later, they had alienated you so entirely that you put in your notice.

"Stupid," you muttered to yourself. "How could you have been so stupid."

"People forget their keys all the time, Y/N," you heard a familiar voice say above you. "Do you know how often I lock myself out of places?"

"But you have twelve other people to rely on," you sighed, opening your eyes. "And I have...well, you."

Mingyu looked down, a sad smile playing over his lips. God, why was he allowed to look so good? You could tell he had showered only minutes ago judging by his damp hair. He had thrown on a pair of fitted joggers and a t-shirt. It should be against the law to make casual wear look so expensive just by being hot.

Using the wall as leverage, you pulled yourself up to stand. "Thanks for doing this. I didn't mean to disrupt your whole afternoon."

"Don't" he said softly, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter what happens...if you call me, I will always answer."

He dug around in his pocket, producing the pink Hello Kitty key you gave him ages ago. It looked so small in the palm of his hand.

"Well anyhow," you said quietly, taking it. "Thanks."

He nodded, signaling the end of the conversation. You went to turn away from him but paused. He wasn't moving.

"Y/N, this whole thing" he motioned between the two of you. "When did this happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"When did we become strangers?" he sighed. "Because honestly it is hurts so bad."

An unknown feeling of annoyance bubbled up to the surface. "Mingyu, you broke up with me."

"You had to have known that it wasn't really me," he whispered, looking away. "I didn't have much of a choice at the time."

"Whether you did or not, we knew it wasn't going to work out in the long run."

"Don't say that!" he snapped. "I loved you...I still love you."

"Mingyu," you said quietly, deflated by his reaction. "You have millions of people out there wanting you. You're an idol. If your company discourages you dating noncelebrities, that is what it is."

"I don't want them. I want you," he said hoarsely. Stepping closer, he took your face in his hands.

You could feel tears beginning to gather at your lash line. "Mingyu-"

"Let me talk to them. The management team and everyone above and in between. Let me fight for us like I was too scared to do before," he whispered.

You tried to shake your head, but your face remained caught. Reaching up and placing your hands atop his, you sighed. "I wish it were that easy."

"It's not easy at all" he said, furrowing his brows. His eyes searched yours. "Nothing about love is easy. Nothing worth fighting for is easy."

"Mingyu," you whimpered, tears starting to fall. "I just wanted my key..."

"Yeah, well," he breathed. "You're getting more than you wanted for once."

Before you could clock his advancement, Mingyu's lips were on yours. You felt your tears falling even faster as you reached to grasp the fabric of his shirt. Because of you, the kisses were much wetter than normal, but it didn't stop his urgent need. He was manic with his movements; afraid you may slip away at any point. After every labored breath, his lips found yours again and again. Biting, licking, groaning against your mouth, you thought you would simply unravel in the dingy hallway.

Eventually the two of you had to take a break, all of the emotion was just too much. His hands sliding from your face and resting on your hips, he looked down at you, his expression hopeful.

"Why don't you come inside?" you asked nervously, unsure of what would happen moving forward. "We can talk."

"Sure," Mingyu nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. "I'd like that very much."

Domestic Life Of a Living With a Runaway Assassin. [Intro.]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

Summary: you hate many things in life. you hate soulmates. you hate the avengers. you hate guns. you hate loud snorers and complicated relationships.

Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can't find yourself hating him

W.c: 2.1K

Series playlist linked here

Author note: this was actually one of my first long form fics I wrote in many years, its carrys a nostalgic feeling and means a lot to me. i wrote it like last October and thought abt kinda rewriting some stuff and posting it here! I thought some of you guys woudk enjoy this story. this is only a short darbble that teases the story, next chapter shows how they met and everything after that. It takes place right after CA:TWS and it’s a soulmate AU!

Masterlist

Soulmates.

The legend goes that when the universe was created and whatever higher power you believed in created humans to have two sets of legs, two sets of arms, and two heads. Now because the world is cruel and no one can have nice things, whoever is in charge up there split us up into two beings but forever being connected by our souls. Spending the rest of our life waiting and searching for our other halves. Never being our true whole selves without them. How poetically tragic.

It turned into a weird way to make money nowadays, you felt like no one really cared about the reality of soulmates now. It was made into shitty romance movies, or stupid scientific searches for your one and only soulmate that was definitely an internet scam. People literally faking soul marks towards celebrities for their one chance with them that their delusional minds make up. 

All just a desperate attempt to feel whole and loved but your one and true person. Always and forever destined to be.

What a touching story. Too bad you think it's all bullshit

No genuinely, you were supposed to believe your life's purpose was to find this one person in the entire universe that matched you, and without them, you what? you were going to be miserable for the rest of your life? The universe is a scam. You had given up on the whole mad search for your other half years ago, you didn't understand why you couldn't go out and find your own partner without having to match up those stupid words on your shoulder. 

“I'm sorry, you probably don't feel very safe with me.”

Those stupid words. You hated the idea of soulmates but you couldn't stop yourself from the hours of wondering just what the hell that was supposed to mean. You had no interest in seeking out your soulmate but you could wonder what type of person they may be. Were they really a dangerous person? Would you genuinely not feel safe with the said person when you first meet? Would you even meet them?

Questions had swirled through your head since the day you got it. Those questions had died down a little, you were getting older and most of your peers had already met their soulmates. You noticed soulmates were not just romantic, they came in friendships, some didn't work out, some came between children and parents, and some came through your fire escape at night, covered in blood and knocking down your favorite plants.

With a loud crash, your feet carried you through your new york apartment to your living room. You saw the outline of him crouched down on the floor. “I'm so sorry, I know that was your favorite plant.”

Okay, spoiler. You had found your soulmate. You weren't excited about it as the rest of the world expected, but it happened. You weren't some hypocrite that would suddenly abandoned all beliefs and fell head over heels for your soulmate once you met like one of those stupid romance movies you mention earlier, you were not some cliche. Especially not with a poor excuse of a runaway-brainwashed-assassin soulmate, at least you would try convincing yourself that.

“My god Bucky, how many times do I have to tell you to just go through the door.” you pinch the bridge of your nose as the tired old man scrambles to clean up the dirt and scattered pot beneath him. “I mean, you practically live here now.”

“I'm not using the door, someone could see me.”

You think Like that's better than having someone see you climb through the fire escape, asshole. You scoff and shake your head and begin dragging yourself to the kitchen. You had a slight quirk at the end of your lips, an amused smile, you hoped Bucky didn’t see in the dark. Maybe he did, you didn’t really have enough time to ask him the deets on the effects of the serum. 

You swing open the cabinet door and grab a trash bag and first aid kit. God only knows how bent out of shape bucky is tonight. Making your way back into your living room, Buckys still muttering under his breath about your stupid plant and “god dammit it's fucking freezing out there.”

throwing the trash back at him, he looks up at you. His eyes are beautiful. His hair is sopping wet and you were hoping to any god above that he wasn't bleeding out on your floor. You were not losing your security deposit for your reckless runaway assassin soulmate. God, that's a mouthful, you need to give him a new nickname.

 “So, what's the damage?”

“s’ nothing, I'm just cold. It started raining hard.” he looks like a wet shaking dog. Your heart aches.

You look him up and down. Noticing the water dripping from all his clothing. “I see that.”

You sigh and take a few steps toward him. Bucky eyes follow your moments precisely. He has a bit of a staring problem. You snag the hair tie off your wrist and swiftly tie his brunette wet mop of a head into a little man bun. Cute. you shake your head.

“Stay, I'll be right back.”

Bucky watches you in awe as your body ascends back into the darkness of the room and around a corner. He's uncomfortable and his socks are wet. The leather vest is wet and he feels like he's trapped in his own skin, and Bucky feels too heavy. 

Slowly, he begins to unstrap all weapons on his body and toss them to the side so you don't have to see them. You didn't like guns. He had a designated place where he hides them because god-forbid Bucky messes up your apartment aesthetic with his dozen of unsettling and quite scary weapons. Your words, not his.

Unzipping the leather top and peeling the fabric off himself was less than a nice feeling, it made him cringe and sent a quick shiver down his spine. Bucky tossed it to the side, he’ll deal with that tomorrow. His hands feel the thin black shirt that's left, it's wet too. Fucking hell. He doesn’t remember the New York weather being this bad in September, he also barely remembers anything so his memory isn’t too reliable. Bucky slowly peels the fabric over his head, he hopes he doesn't mess up the bun you did, he never did it right.

Bucky hears your feet pad against your floor. He pushes back a smile. You're holding a towel and some clothes. He watches you as you crouch down next to him on the floor, he notices that your eyes are squinted and your bed head is apparent. A twinge of guilt hits him now knowing he had woken you up. Bucky whispers, “I woke you up.”

You sigh, again. “I was having a bad dream anyways.”

“About?”

You inhale, scoffing to yourself. “I was being chased by Jimmy Fallon with a jar of pickles – because you know, I hate pickles – and he was yelling at me about the importance of eating vegetables, but he sounded just like my mom.”

Bucky didn’t remember who Jimmy Fallon was, “you must think you’re so amusing, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Bucky curls his toes and is unfortunately reminded of his very wet socks. He leans forward to untie his hefty boots. Your eyes trail along his naked back, his muscles flex and suddenly you are just a little more awake. You watch his left arm in all its glory, taking note of the ragged and scarred tissues where metal meets skin. Scratch marks are littered around the edges, and you feel sad for him, imagining how those got there. The moonlight highlights his metal arm, making it shine and look quite beautiful. You could never tell Bucky that.

“It's been a week.” you finally breathe out. Bucky freezes in place as his fingers wrap around his laces. He feels guilty again. “And you didn't leave a note this time either. I thought...”

Trailing off, you stop yourself before you say something you were going to regret. Your mind wanders, you felt so incredibly stupid right now. Truth is, you didn't agree with the whole soulmate ordeal but it seemed like ever since your unconventional first meeting with Bucky, he has stuck to you like glue. He just kept coming back and then leaving again. 

It took you many of his overnight stays and weirdly domestic mornings making scrambled eggs together and then turning into a worry machine after he leaves. You realized had grown to care for him deeply. Bucky always came back, but you were scared for the day we might not. 

Bucky is– literally, a lost puppy. He had been on the run and actively avoiding the few stray agents that knew he was still alive when he met you. 

Bucky remembered back when he was a kid, dreaming about the day he would meet his soulmate. He and Steve would stay up all night talking about their soul marks, or just words (as they used to call it), and what they thought their soulmates would be like. Bucky was obsessed and simply put, a hopeless romantic. 

Then Steve met his soulmate, Peggy. And then he technically died and Hydra happened, Bucky thought his soulmate would have been dead because he was out of his time now. After being brainwashed and having been broken and put back together by Hydra, Bucky could still never shake the feeling of you still being out there, it was like some instinctive feeling in his bones, he had hope and it was one of the only things keeping him going. 

And he was right.

Bucky had many doubts when he first met you, given his situation. But you were not scared. And that was enough for him at the time.

But now he just feels guilty for giving you the burden of being his soulmate. He was trying, really.

“I'm sorry, doll.” his voice didn't sound like his own, he shrugged the rest of his boot off and followed with his socks. Finally. “I should have left a note. I'm safe, you're safe, and I'm here now.” 

Bucky heard you sniffled and you turned your head with an embarrassment look and glossy eyes. Like you were ashamed for caring.

“sweetheart...” he scooted closer, hoping you wouldn't mind his damp skin on yours. Bucky reached for you, wrapping his flesh hand around yours and giving you a small squeeze. Your head turned to him, a small smile hidden on your face by the darkness of the room. He saw it. Bucky might even think you're an angel. “I won't leave without saying something next time, I'm sorry.”

“Do I even want to know what you were doing out there?”

He hated lying to you but his life was complicated. “Just trying to fix some things I did.”

You nod. “Good.”

The silence between the two of you isn't uncomfortable, the past few months have been silent– at least with bucky. He is your soulmate. He is also the winter soldier, and the winter soldier is always moving and hiding. Bucky Barnes is always moving, always. He had been that way even way back in the Howling Commandos. 

You were his safe haven. Your relationship was on and off but your bond was strong, it was wordless and tentative and strung together by patching wounds at midnight and soft, domestic glances over coffee. Your house– just you were his place where he could just stop, pretend as if nothing mattered and sit on the couch and watch reality television that you loved. Bucky found it questionable but you said “it will help you get with the times.” Bucky just watched it because he knew it made you happy. 

Bucky Barnes had been moving all week, fast. He had almost died, twice. He was never going to let you know that though. Bucky was due for some Hell's Kitchen or dance moms. He was also not going to tell you that. 

The moonlight was fading and you could hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside, barely silenced by the bustling city life of people leaving for work. You are still sitting next to Bucky, and you nudge him with your elbow. His attention is now drawn to you. You bite your bottom lip, a horrible habit you had, bucky hated it. Bucky brings his thumb up to your face and pulls your lip away from your teeth. He wants to kiss you.

“Go take a shower, you stink.” That works too. He smiles and you laugh. Yeah, Bucky thinks he can stop for just a little longer this time.

-

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