#but too tired to get on my computer and do anything productive about that sorry hdjdh

[peachiemilkytea]

ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

Pt 1, Pt 2 , Pt 3

Summary: In the Diner, Michael managed to beat your high score. But what he doesn't know is that you were watching the whole time. You catch his eye and he makes it his mission to annoy you.

Paring: Michael Afton x you

Warnings: small enemies to friends to lovers, Use of Y/N,

WC: 4K

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I rubbed my temple, sitting across Henry in his office. It is twelve in the afternoon. All these taxes, calls from our partnered companies to get products, paying the staff, and getting the hardware parts for the repairs is tiring me out but this is my job. It keeps the diner running.

"We'll need to get more meat from the meat market for the burgers and club sandwiches. The employee's pay is coming up about next week too so we should pull out our savings to do that and-" Henry got cut off on his next sentence. The creek of the door opened.

"Am I interrupting?" It was (Y/n) standing at the door holding a paper bag and a vibrant plastic cup. Putting the bag on the table.

"You're not interrupting anything." Henry said, I got up from my seat and pulled a spare chair from the corner to the endside of the desk. Leaving some space for her to sit down. (Y/n) took a seat. I pushed her seat then returned to my own.

"Thank you for the meal, love." I said. It was her normal nickname for me. I always used it for her. It gained a sort of closeness the more I used it till it was permanently engraved into her identity in my mind.

"Thank you (Y/n) I'll pay you back." Henry said, pulling out his wallet.

"Oh no no no no, honestly I should be thanking you guys. You called me just in time. I had to deal with these disturbing kids that knew me back in high school. I wanted to get out of that so bad that Henry called just in time." (Y/n) asked leaning further into the desk with her cheek on her hand and the other sipping her drink.

"Aw I'm sorry to hear that (Y/n) but at least I got you just in time, didn't I? Whenever you don't want to be somewhere you know you could call me." Henry said happily, putting down his food.

"Such disgusting people." I said with a scoff. Americans had no manners. The two of them laughed with me.

"Yeah but anyways, what have you guys been working on?" (Y/n) asked, fiddling the straw in circles.

"Just the boring stuff lately.  We're trying to get big companies to work with us. We need the computer parts for working devices and then repairs for the animatronics. Since Spring Bonnie needs some torso repairs and Fredbear needs a jaw repair. The computer parts are for-" I said till I looked up and saw Henry stuffing his face.

Sauce at the corners of his mouth and licking his fingers. Chewing obnoxiously everytime he took a bite. My nose wrinkled up in disgust, my brows furrowing. Right when I'm talking too. How disgusting. Little snickers were muffled at the end of the table. Henry looked confused but smiled slightly at her giddiness. He tried to lick the corners of his mouth, rancid. (Y/n)'s little snickers became louder till she fully laughed out. Uplifting my bitter mood. A smile spreads out. Henry looked up confused with sauce dripping down the corners, raising his brow, looking back at her then me. (Y/n) grabbed a napkin and handed it to him. He took it and wiped his mouth.

"Anyway, business is constant, we just need to upgrade the restaurant's basic things. The animatronics and shows have our business growing in exposure and wealth." I explained resting my elbows on the table and interlocking my fingers together. Now all we needed to do after this was figure out our next move.

"We'll get more sponsors to get our name out there and we'll take some of the savings money for the company. Let's start with RadioShack since we need to get more parts." Henry explained.

I unwrapped my lunch carefully and took a bite. (Y/n) slurped the straw loudly finishing the last of her drink. She got up from her seat, throwing Henry and her scraps into the trash. I looked at her hands, her nails were painted rosso corsa red. It suited her so well, but purple suited duchess more. Henry stood up and walked to the other side of the desk grabbing the phone from the desk and punching in the number. 

-----

A brunette boy with a group of guys surrounding him played an arcade game. Getting a higher and higher score each level. The group was cheering him on. Sweat dripped down his temples. His hands jagged the joycons. The group of boys yelled "Go Michael!" (Y/n) leaned against the wall of the pizzeria. Henry dragged her down to the diner again so he could show her the latest designs he's been working on. (Y/n) smile melted watching the boys. She remembered getting the highest score on that arcade machine. It took her blood, sweat, and tears. Coming in everyday to try over and over again the high score. The day (Y/n) got it, she freaked. It wasn't real! No way she got it! Was this really happening! (Y/n) ran straight to Henry about her winning.  Henry ended up giving a big bear hug and spinning her around. It was the best day of her life. And there were some boys a little younger than her, about to beat her score.

"Oh my god... Yeah! I did it!" Michael cheered, throwing his arms up.

"Hell yeah Michael!"

"Sweet dude!"

"Who did you pass?"

They all looked at the name under his goofy username. ☆Lucky(N/n)☆ - 7495. Foxybro - 7500. Only by a little bit did he beat her score. Her giggling made their heads turn. There the boys flabbergasted at her. A tall, beautiful, (Y/n) (L/n).

"Hey! Good job there on the high score! That was a good play." (Y/n) complements, gently clapping her hands together. Admittly it was impressive. That is a tricky game to beat.

The two boys, one in the leather jacket with other with piercings stared at her lovingly over her immediately. Michael grabbed the joystick. It broke off from under him. His eyes widened he quickly hid it behind his back and leaned against the arcade machine. Trying to look intimidating. The one with the dark brown hair that almost covered his eyes  chucked at his stupidness and punched his shoulder.

"Yeah it was nothing," Michael scoffed, brushing the top of his hair back. The joystick coming out from behind his back, he quickly threw it behind him and kicked it behind the machine.

"Is that true? Cause the one under your score is mine." (Y/n) grinned pointing her thumb to her chest. Michael glared at her and rolled his eyes. The other guys were laughing at him and punching his shoulder. Being humliated by a really pretty lady is the same thing as a love hate relationship.

"Say what's your name, Dollface?" One of the goo goo eyed guys asked. Going weak in the knees and leaning to the side.

"(Y/n) (L/n). What about you guys?" She said lifting herself up off of the wall. Introducing themselves one by one in their own little special ways. Michael, the one who beat her high score. Alejandro, the guy in the leather jacket. Simon, the one with a lot of piercings. Jeremy, the guy who has a bunch of dark brown fluffy hair in green.

I'll be seeing you guys around."  She saluted them with two fingers. She walked away back to find Henry. Simon sunk down lovingly on the arcade machine, Jeremy waved goodbye with a smile, Michael and Alejandro standing there looking at the joystick in his hands trying to shove it back into the machine.

-----

Father brought me back to the pizzeria again, I don't know why I need to be here with him. Elizabeth and Chris are at home with mom. I would rather be at home in my room with my baby, my electric guitar. Ugh I miss her. I was learning Back in Black from AC/DC. though my fingers are all calloused I still want to play. I groaned, tapping my foot on the floor and rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. Father made me sit in his office with him. It was getting boring! I can usually go play the arcade games like I was doing or go eat greasy junk food till my stomach hates me. I feel my brain melting! I need to do something!

"Stop your fidgeting, boy." Father said not looking up from his paperwork. it's not like he cares. he doesn't care about anything when it comes to me. It's always about his work.

"Sod off." I spat looking away from him. I dont want to be around him. He gets on my nerves. Putting me in his office. Who does he think he is? I can go out and do the things I want. he only cares when his reputation is in danger.

"That's no way to speak to me, Michael. I don't want you in this room any more than you want to be in here. Frankly, you're a distraction. You remember what happened last time don't you?" Father scolded me with a slight insult. I'm only here because I was picking on little kids and telling them scary stories of the animatronics. Parents complained to Henry and father about it. Now I'm being forced to stay on a leash like I'm some kind of animal. There was a familiar knock on the door.

"William! I need you for some early designs!" Henry called from the otherside of the door. Father groaned and got up from the seat pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'll be right there, Henry! Don't go anywhere." Father said at the door. He left to go deal with Henry and more work. Yeah... I'm not going to stay here. Their footsteps disappeared and a door clicked. I opened the door, peaking my head out, looking through the halls. Coast is clear. Quickly I lightly stepped through the halls and pushed open the employee's only door. Everything got so noisy after that. Damn kids were screaming their heads off.

What to do first, oh what to do first? I can't scare the kids again or father will notice I'm out. Still doesn't mean I can't have fun. Sneaking into the kitchen I grabbed a slice of a pizza and birthday cake. In the corner hallway where the bathrooms were I ate. The kid having the birthday party looked like he was about to cry at the missing pieces, the mom forced the chiefs back into the kitchen to make another. I hid the spare emergency pizza they have in a locked cabinet under the counter. Licking my lips of the chocolate from the cake. I got up from the floor leaving my trash there.

Huh, the backroom's door is open? No one goes in there if they want to get killed, I've seen it in horror movies all the time. What dumb kid is back there? I could be smart and leave it alone or go in and get killed. I'm going in! Walking up to the slightly open door. I walked inside, the door automatically closing behind me. I jumped and cursed under my breath. A bright light shined in my eyes. I covered them slightly with my hand.

"Hey! You aren't supposed to be back here!"

"Turn off that light! I want to keep my vision, you know!" I said grabbing the end of the light and pointing my light down. What the fuck? The girl from earlier, (Y/n) I think her name was? Was shining a flashlight in my eyes. She was wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a hefty toolbelt. A yellow name tag on her chest and blocky doc martens. I just know those shoes are making the back of her feet hurt. All the blisters. Her hair was put up into a loose bun and there is construction googles on the top of her head.

"Michael? What are you doing? You're not supposed to be in here!" (Y/n) gasped out through her teeth harshly. She was leaning forwards towards me and looking around. She's trying to find where I am from. Ew, this is her room. This room is made for the head mechanic. Which means she's a fuckin' nerd.

"My father is the boss here, dumbass." I hissed walking past her and looking around. There's so much shiny shit in here. The power tools look sharp and pointy. I went over to them and poked the needle tips.

"But Henry was twins, he would've told me about you... wait... Your Will's kid?! No wonder why you look just like him." (Y/n) said putting her flashlight away and going over to the desk. Those words burned through me and I felt my stomach drop. I wish I didn't.

"Don't you ever say I look like my father! I'm nothing like him!" I yelled, slamming my hand on the table behind her. (Y/n) flinched and kept her mouth shut. I walked away from her grumbling. There goes my fun.

The backrooms held the two animatronics, Fredbear and Springbonnie. There were mechanic tools on the shelfs and spare parts in the other corner. Early designs of the characters hung up on the walls. Tool desks and two small lamp lights hanging from the ceiling. It was hard to see from how dim it was. Checkered flooring like the rest of the restaurant.  I went back over to (Y/n) and looked over her shoulder at the blueprints. It was a pirate fox. It was an early design. I snatched the paper away from her.

"Hey! Give it!" She shouted, holding her hand out. What am I, a dog? No way. This little fox guy is cool. His hook is so badass, what adventures does he go on? Are there more designs? Is she going to make him? I want to know everything about him. Enough with the soft shit, he looks so awesome. I bet he goes arghh!!

"Why should I? This fucker looks creepy you really think kids would like this? This makes it easier for me to scare them. Seriously the fuck is wrong with your head. What? Lost a couple screws?" I made fun of the drawings. She puffed her chest and pouted trying to take it out of my hands. Instead I pulled her with the blueprints. Making her mad is giving me pride. I like pushing her buttons. She gets so worked up.

"Drop it! I need to give it to Henry and Will later." (Y/n) jabbed my side. I flinched taking the moment she grabbed it out of my hands. Sneaky little- god she's so annoying. She put it away in a folder with some other drawings. Hmm, what if I steal that later? There might be more of that fox guy.

"Only little shits would like that crap." I blew a raspberry at her. I know that's a fat lie but the reaction she is giving me is so fun. He had striped pirate pants, a hook, a captain's hat with a feather, a leather vest, and an eye patch. I shouldn't have said that he looked really cool. I should draw him!

(Y/n) was repairing the animatronics, fixing their insides. There was an unfinished big metal root in the corner. I looked back at (Y/n) who was still working. Slowly I grabbed one of the wires. The robot's eyes moved from side to side. Woah! How the hell did it do that? I smiled and pulled another wire. It blinked this time while its eyes moved. It's being controlled somewhere, just where? There was this keypad on the chest. I pressed one of the buttons and its head moved back and forth blockly.

"Don't touch that!" (Y/n) yelled jogging up to me and grabbing my shoulder leading me away from the robot. Fixing it's wires and putting them inside of their metal bodies. Sighing out of relief. What does it look like to be inside of the robot?

"You just love making my job harder, don't you? Don't touch the endoskeleton unless you want to lose an arm." (Y/n) said holding me away from the robot err is it called endoskeleton? it's like the bones of robot. A skull doesn't have eyes though. I want to touch it again so bad.

"You touch it though! How come you haven't lost an arm yet?" I teased. She pushed me out of the backrooms and locked the door behind her. Damn it... Just when I was starting to have fun.

-----

My dad needed me to send out a letter to my aunt, so I had to be the delivery girl who goes to the post office and sends it. I didn't want to do it. I was out in the backyard playing with my dog in a kiddie pool which he couldn't fit in. My saint Bernard named Cujo after my favorite horror story. I read it in English class in Junior High and it stuck with me ever since then. He was splashing me in water, dirt, and dog hair. I put the pool out so Cujo could cool down from the heat.

I can't believe that was interrupted for me. I took my car and drove to the post office turning up the song they played over the radio, you really got me going. Nodding my head to the beat of it. I turned off of the street and into the small shopping center parking lot. The post office was right next to the corner drug store so many high school kids or ex popular dickwads like to hang out. As long as I don't talk to them I should be fine. I grabbed the letter from the passenger seat. My dad couldn't call my aunt because she was in another country, Canada. The phone lines don't reach out of the country, they can go from state to state if you're lucky. They work better in neighborhoods. I got out of the car and locked it behind me with my key.

Shit... No one told me that Michael was going to be here. Ugh if I can't see him he can't see me. I brought up my autumn brown colored flannel to cover up my face, my dog tag chain clanked around my neck. He was there with some greasers and one of the boys I met at the pizzeria. Alejandro? Yeah Alejandro Gon... Gonzales! He was sitting on top of his motorbike with his helmet in hand. He smiled with those pearly whites and waved to me. I waved to him, tucking a strand of hair behind ear. That was embarrassing... I went inside the post office. There was barely a line since it was nighttime. The letter was to be mailed and I can go home! I left the post station, the greasers still standing there. Michael looked back at me whispering something to his friends. They all laughed at what he had to say. I have a feeling that thing is about me.

"Hey (Y/n)!" Michael yelled, waving at me. I rolled my eyes and kept walking. The guys laughed at his mockery, except Alejandro. He gave me a guitly smile and told the other guys off. He was a gentleman unlike Afton. I got into my car slamming the door and speeding out of there. I don't care if I get a ticket. I want to go home. Pulling into the side of my house after a tiring drive. I got out and locked the car behind me with a key.

Unlocking the front door, the house was quiet. Mom and dad must be sleeping already. Daniel was sleeping on the couch with a blanket and Cujo on him. The TV playing Looney Tunes. I sighed, the clock read 12:35. Cujo hopped off of Daniel coming up to me and nudging my hand. I pet his head scratching his ears and swishing his jaw around, Cujo panted with his tail wagging. I turned off the Tv and picked up Daniel sloppily. The blanket was dragging off of his body. I limped walking up the stairs trying not to drop his body. When did this kid get so big? Jesus Chirst he's heavy I feel my arms falling off. The stairs were the hardest part, I opened the door and gently put him down on his bed. I rolled him up in the blanket like a caterpillar. Cujo was standing next to me, I guess he followed me to get the boy and dragged my little brother up the stairs.

Daniel (L/n) my little brother. Ever since I graduated High school he only got bigger. He got out of 7th grade a year after I graduated. He's an 8th grader now. I still miss him when he was younger, not that he isn't young! Just when Daniel was he was so much cuter. He'll always be my baby brother in my eyes. The kid is 13 years old, he already tries to act like he's older. I don't think I'll ever say it out loud, but I love this kid. He's a nerdy boy who loves things like Starwars and Superhero comics. He is a brave kid with a spunk. He's optimistic about the things he does even if he hasn't done them before. He's really protective over me when any boy comes over. Let me tell you now, Daniels has always been a mama's boy. He's really clever but he uses it for evil! To be fair he got it from me. Cujo whined at me. I patted the boy's head and got up from his bed. Leaving the room now quietly shutting the door.

"Come on Cujo, it's late." I said waving my hand  towards the Saint Bernard then towards me. He followed me to my room. Getting dressed into pj shorts and a tank top that matched it. Grabbing the green Floral loose robe off of my hanger. Next to the bedside was a telephone. I punched Cheryl's number and brought it to my ear, laying on my bed. Cujo jumped on my bed next to me and laid on his side. I swear he acts like a human sometimes.

"...Hello?" Cheryl sounded tired, there was shifting on the other side in only what I assumed were blankets. It was her sleepy voice. Raspy and deeper than her normal pitch.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked picking at my fingernails.

"Maybe baby, it's 12:38 at night (Y/n) what is it?" Cheryl said grumpily. She's not a morning person; she always mentions how she needs her beauty sleep. Seriously she has a whole skin care routine before she goes to bed.

"I have stuff going on for once to tell you." I asked, looking at the green phone and twirling the cord.

"Finally! Oh my god! Nothing ever happens in your life!" Cheryl said I heard her get up from the other side. That definitely woke her up. I can picture her already with curlers in her hair and her pastel pink bed sheets with darker polka dots. She probably lifted her sleep mask too. The one with the white ruffles and the creepy eyes with the poorly drawn on eyelashes. I chuckled under my breath.

"Wow, okay rude. Anyway, the diner there was this group of boys playing in the mini arcade section and one of them was trying to beat my high score on one of the games. It was like any kind of group of boys full of sweat and hormones, you know? But he actually beat my high score." I was cut off by girlish squeals. Ow, my ears. She's going to make me deaf one of these days.

"What did you do? Oh did you tell him off! Did you talk to him? No way you, the quiet little good girl, would talk to a group of bad boys." Cheryl teased in sultry tone. I can hear the smile on her face.

"Actually I did talk to them. I congratulated them for beating my high score. You should've seen the look on their faces! Two of them were lover boys. I swear one of them called me Dollface. The one who did beat my high score ended up breaking the joystick when he saw me." I explained biting down on my lip with a grin. It was ridiculously cute. Makes no sense since Michael is a pain in my ass.

"Ahh~!! Are they cute? Please tell me there cute and not some weird guys that look like they belong on the street. You have a type." Cheryl squealed. She knows me all too well, but really none of them are my type. Actually now that I think about it Jeremy might be. He's a sweetheart.

"Hey! My type is cute! Whatever, they're like that group of bad boys but different types. They're not like greasers or gangs. Just some punk ass teenage boys. The one who beat my high score is a jerk face." I groaned remembering this evening and plenty other times. It's been a month now of him torturing me. It's always while I'm on the job. Henry's been worried about me lately cause of it.

"Aww~ what makes you say that?" Cheryl said, adjusting the phone to her other ear. there were sounds of moving and muffled tones.

"He's a dickwad. Those guys keep coming to the diner everyday now to see me, they even scheduled my breaks and day offs which is kinda cute. But like that one guy knows how to tick me off! Okay okay, he's William's son." I said, Cujo curled into my side and put his arm around me. I huffed from the sudden weight but put my arm around him. He was big, furry and warm. Like a big ole heater.

"William has a son?! How am I just now hearing about this (Y/n)? So he's a sexy dad, I get it." Cheryl said huskily. I cringed at first. My nose scrunched up in digust. I don't think about him as this smokin' boss that will flirt with me in his office. I know him as the guy who yells at me when I make his tea in the microwave. Though Cheryl did have a point, though William is intimidating he has a charm. A lot of people talk about him in and out of the pizzeria. Admittedly he is handsome.

"Eww!! Cheryl! He has a wife! Anyway yeah, his name is Michael. He gets on my nerves. He messes me up when I'm working and touches everything, he trips me when I'm skateboarding, he points me out and draws attention to me in public, he's always around me that I get pissed whenever I see him, don't even get me started on the things he says to me! I never wanted to beat a guy's ass more." I gritted my teeth together remembering everything. There were too many times to count and it would take too long but knowing Cheryl she'd like to hear everything.

"It's small things right? Do you ever think (Y/n) he might be getting under your skin because he doesn't know how to talk to you and this is his way of talking to you?" Cheryl asked, she sounded more genuine and serious. I never thought of that.

He must get it from William. When I first started working with Will he was an utter dick to me. Avoiding me and insulting me, till he saw what I could do to the animatronics as an engineer. Will still didn't talk to me after that, but what did happen was I would get little notes saying about how I was doing a good job or how I looked pretty today. They weren't ever signed. Same with little presents that would be my workshop. There would be a bouquet of wildflowers on my tools shelf. Next it would be sunflowers, then it got bigger. I never knew where it came from. It did make my day better though, I would always look forward to going to work. I started talking to William after awhile, turns out he was the one doing all of that. I talked to him about it but to this day he denies that he ever did so.

"Wow, I never thought about that. Boys are confusing. I guess that could be happening? I don't know. I'll keep it in the back of my mind but I'm still pissed at him." I said tapping my chin with the arm I had around Cujo.

"You don't have to be happy that he does it, you can be mad. You have the right to be. Just consider why he's doing it. I'm sure it will all work out!" Cheryl said happily. I hate that she's always right.

"I'll consider it Cher, it's late, it's about to be one in the morning. I woke you up and now you need your beauty sleep. Night Cher, sweet dreams." I said smiling softly. I heard her little 'good night' and a cute yawn from the other side. I put the phone back on the stand. Hanging up on her.

ᴛɪᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴇᴅ

#michael afton x reader #michael afton x you #five nights at freddy's #fnaf michael afton #fnaf

[cuppimagines]

A Jolly Odd Christmas- Chapter 000, Prologue

HI GUYS UH, sorry for the long wait between my last few fics, some stuff got in the way and I needed a breather from the deadline of posting a long spanning story. Still! I love writing content related to Christmas (oddly enough more than Halloween but no need to unpack that), and wanted to do something for a long long long time. A note! Fics are probably gonna be no longer than about 5k words, as I wanna be able to make something I can write before Christmas, but if there's ever anything you guys want me to expand on, just tell me and I can do that! Until then, enjoy the prologue!

Next Chapter ->

Christmas was less than a month away, and things were busy up north. All year there was work being done, and this was the big day to get everything packed and organized. Manufacturing the toys was only a part of this process. Organizing, checking which gifts go to which locations, and it wasn’t just childrens gifts being packaged either, and because teens and adults didn’t exactly write Christmas wish lists, it was much harder creating gifts for that population. Elves all around the building and factory were busy, when one took a break, another immediately took the helm while they rested from the busy schedule from today. However, none were busier than the head supervisor, who looked over the entire operation with the help of some assistants. 

The big old guy couldn’t be too busy monitoring the manufacturing of toys, consoles, and clothing, so he had others become his eyes and ears. That was Cardamom Cedar, who had been around for quite some time, and seemed to be getting up there in age, and seemed to have a more distinguished, mature aura to him. It helped that he was taller than the average elf, still under 5 feet, but his height had him towering almost a foot above his subordinates. He hadn’t had a single break all day, and when things were down to the wire like this, he was working from sunup to sundown (astounding for the little light they got at this hour). The only thing keeping him awake was a very caffeinated cup of peppermint tea, and was walking amongst two of his other elves looking at various forms.

“Alright so these are the last few days for the boss to update the nice and naughty list,” one elf to his left said. “Tomorrow we can get that and see which presents are gonna end up stowed away to save time on production for next year.” “I hate how he pushes the deadline for that so late, it makes my job worse!” Mr. Cedar sighed, stepping out the way of a group of elves wheeling a stack of computer parts past him. 

“With all due respect sir…what’s the point of the list if we don’t keep track of it consistently?” the elf on his right asked. That got him a glare from Cedar, stopping in his tracks to give him a very tired, very stressed scowl. The poor elf went silent, and just nervously looked at his notes. 

“Oh gods…I can’t wait till after the holidays…I heard the hot springs in the mountains are gonna be especially lovely after all this is over,” Cedar took another sip, his eyes wide as another elf seemed to be running full force his way. She looked worried, and she seemed to be from the organizing department.

“Mr. Cedar! Mr. Cedar!!” she exclaimed, taking a few breaths as she approached him. “Please come with me! This is serious!”

“What do you mean serious? Can’t one of the managers come see this? I’m far too busy to deal with base level issues” he replied.

“Sir…sir it’s a code Black…” she said that in a much more quiet voice towards him, just barely enough for him to hear amongst the busy rush in the halls. That…that wasn’t good. Mr. Cedar shoved his forms into the hands of the elf to his left and immediately rushed to follow the worried elf woman.

“Okay, tell me, how’s the security at the door?” “Guards didn’t see anything come in or out any major entrances.”

“Any places they could’ve snuck in?”

“We’re investigating, nothing out of the ordinary so far.”

“Did…did you check the…?”

“As far as we know, “that” gate has not been opened, won’t be open until Christmas eve. If it was, Mr. Claus would’ve been here.”

“...that is a fair point. Then how in the world did this outsider get in?!” Mr. Cedar ended up in the organization department, where there was a crowd of elves around someone…a human. An outsider. Mr. Cedar started pushing several elves out the way, going to approach the person in question once the others got wise and just cleared the path for their superior. 

You looked scared, confused, unsure of whatever the hell was going on. Mr. Cedar had noticed that you were just in a pair of matching pajamas, and you looked like you were just woken up from sleeping, which…you were! At one moment, you had fallen into a deep sleep for the night, and the next, you ended up on an assembly line out of nowhere, smushed between presents, your apartment nowhere in sight. 

“Where did you come from?!” Mr. Cedar approached you, glaring up at you. Despite the major size difference, you were still taken off by the strict authoritative tone this man took, and you just scooched back on the assembly line, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“I-I dunno! I don’t even know where this is!! Is this some like…event…why are you all in costume…?” you asked.

“Costume?! You think this is all a game?!” Mr. Cedar scowled. “I don’t much like your tone, we are EXTREMELY busy, and we have to figure out what you’re doing in my goddamn workshop!” 

“Sir…they came in through the gift line…maybe there’s an error?” one elf spoke up. “A person’s never ended up here...” Mr. Cedar’s expression seemed to soften a bit, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“This is a bad time to have an error…” he grumbled. “Take them to my office, but make it discreet. If word gets out there’s a human in the workshop not only will things start to get messy, but this might spread out into the city.”

“Yes sir!” Several elves responded in unison. At that moment, about 6 elves picked you up off the assembly line, and you were actually sorta shocked at this display of strength amongst such small fellas.

“Also, bring me a maple pecan dark roast, I need the energy for this…” With that, Mr. Cedar left the room, leaving your line of sight, and leaving you to be carried away like you weighed next to nothing.

“Hey!! Hey wait! I can walk!” you exclaimed. All of a sudden, a larger present box was pulled out from a pile, and just like that you were dropped inside, on top of a bunch of gift box tissue. Once the lid was put on top of you, you knew that this was…a pile of weird inescapable nonsense you ended up in. Where the hell were you, and more importantly, who the hell sent you here?!

#cuppimagines #uhhhh what do i tag this as #guess ill just tag the title #nsft #nsft text #a jolly odd christmas

[the-firebird69]

And her son says there's nothing I can do stupid people are stupid no sweet dumb s*** to me you want to do dumb s*** and you're big and stuff and send it to Palladio who cares Matt wants you big not Mac but the max I already told you sad says it's lying and he says this respect I know you're not cuz you can have an effect if you look at the truth you don't want to look at cuz he's not treat you so badly you're afraid of what you'll find and so what is your life if you don't find it my thing is you don't find it and didn't find it yet it's 2023. They have an amazing schedule huge huge amounts of code it's everywhere it's on the dollars it's on the 20s the '50s they use you and you resemble a Mac it's like clans specific clans are using you in different characters it is the most f***** up thing you've ever find so he's looking around and he's saying things we do our distractions if you figure out the code you only need certain code level for certain level people. So I got interested in sorry looking at it people looking at now and said he said it back then and it works there's a real jerk that you people are huge stinking assholes what you did today and is going to lend is going to wind you up in prison whether we have control over it or not what you said you wanted to do and these people knew about it too and there's a guy ready to push you off the road it's not special that it's heavier than your truck. We're rather sick of it cuz you don't know anything he's proving something too it took 3 months for him to get peanut butter filled pretzels Publix is doing it that's a very decent product it's low in sugar and it's good for you the bacon they bake it in a lot of sugar gets cooked off in a chlorine bleach and it comes out of it actually makes it expand more so we don't want to hear from you what's looking tired of hearing from you

-we are enacting here the code of ethics and it's for our people he says we already have that and now we do and it's strictly followed in this area is very intense. It's leadership. Some things are going off the deep end one of them was Trump and his quest who after Mephistopheles and he's down there now hunting for him some people say he has a giant name and others say he does not. That's something it's Anakim there's good reason for saying it. The giant to the north of St Christopher people think it as a real old Indians and others said they can hear dark speech and it was from Lucifer talking about them these guys went out there and they demanded to know and they said we're a peaceful people like only 20 of them there so he brought a bunch of stuff damn thought it would be nice I said we don't live in campers anymore but we'll take the stuff and really they were not doing well they needed it. And they heard that the data is okay and they're talking about it just find information about the folklore and they're supposed to send them some stuff and pictures and copies of the book and they did you sent them a bunch of prefab homes and they're so happy that they thanked him and they got on it and started looking and someone said it's very dangerous they call them up and said someone said it's kind of dangerous in space and they said what should we watch out for and they heard computers so looking around and they said we can hear a humming is using gear and it's not Jason it's actually Indians in the same where and they found a computer it wasn't very big it was watching them and Trump went nuts it's like 10 years ago so he dug up information on it and he said this kid is telling me this stuff he doesn't like me and I looked at it and I can't remember what we did and he wants me to remember it and it's like really stupid wants to know if he's holding it and all the sudden stuff so he says it's kind of like Dave's stuff and I'm bothering him so as we know you're bothering me if you don't get off and we're going to cut you in half vertically so painful experience you can try and glue yourself together usually it's a mismatch it said in the low desert but it has a very specific meaning now you're the horse and that's what you act like which is rare. And we do hear what you're saying and we're tired of him so he went out there and started screwing around again and now he's really serious and he's trying to find out what it is and he's also understanding that if the giant gets out he might replace bja and bja might disappear and that could be a possibility

Thor Freya

Olympus

Oh yeah that's pretty cool I like it and he likes it too and he wants to do some work and he has to eat something

Hera

[tobesolonely]

grammy night

A/n: like most of you, watching harry perform WS did something to me. i rushed to my computer to write this IMMEDIATELY... not proofread but i hope u all enjoy nonetheless! Thanks @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over and hyping me up.

summary: y/n wants to show her grammy winning boyfriend just how proud she is of him💕

warnings: smut, mentions of the pandemic!

word count: ~3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You decided that “Harry Styles, Grammy-nominated artist!” had a lovely ring to it.

Harry knew how proud you were of him; you had been making it known to him in the days leading up to his big night. You fretted over him more than you usually did, showered him in an obnoxious amount of compliments, and were the most intimate you’d ever been with him–– but who was he to complain? 

Obviously, he knew you could care less whether he won or lost, and quite frankly, he didn’t care either. Just being able to perform at the Grammy’s, much less open it, was the opportunity of a lifetime. The fact that he was hitting such a big professional milestone with you by his side just made it that much better. You were both buzzing.

It had been months since Harry had performed. You knew how much he missed being in front of a live audience and hearing people scream his name, conceited as he was. He had been spending so much time rehearsing the one song he was performing, wanting it to be absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend was a perfectionist, after all! If he was going to do something, he either did it one hundred and ten percent, or he didn’t do it at all.

Although you were used to your boyfriend’s pre-performance jitters, it still wasn’t an easy sight to see. He would pace so much that beads of sweat would collect in his hairline; he’d shake, tremble, and have to be reminded to breathe. You’d think after ten years of doing this he would be a pro, but he was only human, after all. 

“Been so long since I performed in front of people,” Harry muttered to you, examining his reflection in his make-shift dressing room. “‘M nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” you reply, coming up behind him to rub his shoulders. He shoots you a look in the mirror. “I know it’s easier said than done but you have nothing to worry about. It’s “Watermelon Sugar” honey–– you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve performed this one dozens of times.”

“Things are jus’ so different now,” his voice drops an octave. “What if people are tired of the song?”

“I don’t think people are tired of the song.”

“It played on the radio a lot. Came out in 2019––”

“...And you’ve been busy with other things. No one’s gonna be upset that you haven’t released new music in the middle of a pandemic H, I promise you.”

Harry’s gaze meets yours again in the mirror briefly before he tilts his head back, silently asking for a kiss. You plant one on his lips before grabbing a tissue from a small table beside him, dabbing at his hairline.

“Stop sweating everything off, Harry,” you playfully scold your boyfriend. “Make-up artist has already been by to touch you up three times already, she’s probably running out of product.”

Your boyfriend lightly chuckles at this, causing you to smile. “I’ll just tell my body to cut it out. How’s tha’ sound?”

“Sounds good,” you reply, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You alright?”

You notice Harry deeply inhale. “I think so. How do I look?”

“Like a Grammy-nominated, soon-to-be Grammy-winning, artist.” 

Harry’s skin flushes. “Stop it…” The sound of three short knocks on the door of his dressing room causes panic to flood his features.

“Hey, look at me,” you gently grab your boyfriend’s chin, turning his gaze up towards yours. “It’s my job to believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. If you get nervous just know I’ll be sitting as close to the stage as they’ll let me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, go make me proud.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Breathe me in, breathe me out…”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought Harry’s nerves in his dressing room were all theatrics. He was so in his element on stage, you were one hundred percent sure no one knew he was so nervous twenty minutes prior that he was turning green. He kept looking out into the small crowd, searching for you, and flashing you a dimpled grin once he did. 

You were enjoying watching him prance around the stage while trying to keep up with the band on stage, looking a bit too proud of himself when he was able to stay on the beat while rhythmically snapping his hips along to the song. As the song came to an end and the dimmed lights started coming back on, you were led back to Harry’s dressing room by one of his guards as you heard the next performer being introduced.

“How did I do?” Harry asks loudly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

His voice causes you to jump. “You scared the shit out of me! How’d you get off stage so quickly?”

Harry grabs your arm and pulls you off the couch, wrapping you in a tight, sweaty hug. “Don’t know. I basically ran to ya.”

“You did incredibly,” you tell him, lips ghosting over his. “Just like I knew you would. I don’t wanna say you were nervous for nothing, but you kinda were.”

“Don’t wanna hear your teasin’.”

“Did you see how everyone was looking at you?”

“I only saw how you were lookin’ at me. I was only lookin’ at you.”

Your body heats up at Harry’s admission, causing you to look away. “You’re so cheesy, H.”

“I think I would’ve been about fifty times more nervous if you weren’t here with me,” he presses his nose against yours. “Thank you for bein’ here, Y/N. You make this whole thing so much more doable.” Harry places one… two… three wet kisses to your cheek before pulling away, walking back over to close the door he left open during his excitement to re-join you.

“Changing?”

“Yeah,” Harry turns to look at you as he pulls off his jacket. The sight of his bare chest causes you to thickly swallow. “‘M gonna put what I was wearin’ on the red carpet back on. We’re gonna move outside.”

You simply hum in response to what Harry said, sitting back on the couch to scroll through your phone as you wait for him to finish changing. Everyone was congratulating Harry on his performance and wishing him luck on his nominations. You read all the good luck texts for him that were sent to you out loud, watching as his smile grows bigger and bigger from all the love he was being showered in.

After helping Harry powder his T-zone you let him lead you out of the small room and out into an area with spaced-out circular tables, most of them with just two or three seats at them. The Grammy’s in the middle of a pandemic was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you were pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things were running. Jeff is already sat at the table when you and Harry join him and you can visibly see him let out the breath he was holding.

“Your boyfriend ran off stage so quickly I thought I was gonna have to set up a search party to find him,” Jeff tells you, a slight hint of annoyance present in his voice. He then turns to Harry and says, “Fix your mask, please.”

“It is fixed,” Harry grumbles but adjusts it nonetheless, causing you to giggle. 

Even though it was obvious your boyfriend was enjoying himself, you could still tell he was extremely nervous the closer it became to announcing the winner of the category he was nominated in. His grip on your thigh kept growing tighter and tighter and although you didn’t hate it, you worried he might cut off your circulation soon if he didn’t let go of you soon.

“H, take a deep breath,” you lean over to whisper in his ear. “You’re gonna make my thigh fall off.”

“Sorry, love,” if you could see his mouth under his mask, you’d see him biting his plump lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my fuckin’ life.”

“Never?”

“Have I?”

“I dunno. I’m asking you.”

You see Harry’s eyes crinkle. “Maybe when I asked you out for the first time.”

“You are seriously so cheesy.”

Harry doesn’t respond, just takes your hand in his and directs his attention back to the stage. His palm is sweaty in yours but you don’t release his grip on your hand, wanting to offer him as much comfort as you possibly could.

When they start naming the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, you literally have to remind Harry to control his breathing. Although he won’t be upset if he doesn’t win, you know it would still mean quite a bit to him if he did.

“And the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance is… Harry Styles!”

Your mouth falls open in shock as you turn to fully face your boyfriend who was looking down at your intertwined hands, eyes wide in surprise. He genuinely wasn’t expecting to win and that made this victory that much sweeter. 

“Harry!” You yell to be heard above the cheers and applause of his colleagues in the crowd. Jeff stands and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and into a tight hug. You stand up and clap loudly in admiration for your boyfriend, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. He removes himself from Jeff and pulls you into him, your head pressed against his chest.

“I won a fuckin’ Grammy!” Harry shouts.

“I know!” You shout back, probably more excited than he was. “Get up there!”

Your boyfriend quickly removes his mask and hands it to you before hurrying to the makeshift stage, hugging the presenter before touching his Grammy in awe. He picks it up and then slowly sets it back down, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much…” 

You can’t stop the few tears that spill over your waterline–– you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’re not even paying attention to his acceptance speech as you’re too preoccupied with looking at everyone staring at your boyfriend in admiration. 

“Lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend who’s sitting right there next to my manager, Jeffrey. She’s my number one fan, always believes in me when I don’t believe in myself,” he looks down at his shoes bashfully. “Wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for her. This is our Grammy, love.”

You blow kisses to your boyfriend, ignoring the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. As far as you were concerned, you and Harry were the only two people around at that moment. Your heart couldn’t have been any more full.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

To absolutely no one's surprise, you and Harry couldn’t keep your hands off each other for the remainder of the night. You were relieved there were no after parties being held that Harry would be expected to attend due to the pandemic because you could not get him alone fast enough.

“Slow down, Y/N,” Harry sets his Grammy on the foyer table as he kicks off his shoes. “Just us, innit? We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

“I’m just so proud,” you tell him breathlessly, sucking on the underside of his jaw. “Let me show you.”

“You have been showin’ me. A lot, actually,” Harry leans his head back and closes his eyes in pleasure as you lick tantalizingly slow against his veiny neck. “Guess one more time wouldn’t hurt, though.”

“Do you want me to blow you or not?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s gonna happen here?”

“If you’re gonna be annoying, then no.”

“Kiiiding,” Harry rolls his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “C’mon, let me get you upstairs.”

”You’re the one that won a Grammy, not me,” you remind him. “Let me make you feel good.”

Harry lets out a quiet hum, guiding you towards the couch. “Exactly–– I’m the winner. Doesn’t that mean I should get what I want tonight?” He falls backward onto the couch, pulling you atop his lap. His hand roams down the front of your dress and he squeezes your breasts roughly, clearly delighted that you decided to forgo a bra tonight.

“I suppose,” you answer, biting back a moan. 

“You suppose? Not in the mood for it tonight?” He starts to retract his hand but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“I am!” You don’t even try to hide how desperate you are for your boyfriend.

“Gonna let me taste you, hmm?” As Harry asks his question he slowly slides off the couch and onto his knees in front of you, bunching your dress up around your hips. He leans in close to your already dripping center and inhales deeply, a blissed-out look on his face. “Smell fuckin’ incredible. I gotta taste ya.”

You spread your legs wider without even thinking about it, almost as if it’s on instinct. Harry easily moves your underwear to the side and immediately connects his lips with your clit, not giving you time to adjust to the sensation before he’s just going at it.

“Oh, Harry…”

“Rings on or off?” His voice is muffled due to your thighs being clamped around his head, but you can still understand what he’s saying.

“On!”

Harry chuckles against your cunt before sliding his index finger in with ease, loving the way you immediately clenched around the digit. “Y’like that, lovie? Wanna take another one?”

“Please.” Your boyfriend already has you breathless despite the fact that he was just getting started.

Harry slips his middle finger into you along with his index finger and starts curling it up in the way he knew you liked, trying his hardest to stimulate your g-spot. He looks extremely focused; leave it to Harry to make a night that was supposed to be all about him, not.

“S’fuckin’ tight,” he says, more so to himself. “You’d think with all the shags we’ve been ‘avin lately you’d be used to my fingers by now.”

You let out a loud groan at your boyfriend’s dirty talk. He knew that it was one of your biggest kinks so he usually overdid it just a tad bit. It’s not like you were complaining, though.

“Guess that means you’re not fuckin’ me hard enough, huh?”

Harry stops his movements and looks up at you through slightly hooded eyes, an amused (but not really) look on his face. “Not fuckin’ you hard enough? Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

You can tell by the tone of Harry’s voice that he has it out for you now, but there’s no use in recanting your statement. He was about to make sweet, primal, love to you and god were you ready. Harry goes back to mercilessly fucking into you with his thick fingers, speeding up or slowing down his pace based on how you clench around him.

”Fuck, H.”

“Feels nice?” He goes from moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion to a scissoring motion which feels just as good if not better.

“Yeah, really nice,” your fingers are tangled in Harry’s hair and you know he’ll give you hell later for getting it all knotted. “I’m close.”

“Already? Haven’t even properly fucked you yet,” Harry removes his fingers from you aching cunt agonizingly slow, wiping them on his expensive Gucci trousers. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to fix that, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, pet. Is that really any way to treat your Grammy-winning boyfriend-”

“Harry, come off it!” You exclaim, letting out a loud laugh as you watch him stand up and unbutton his pants. “You’re insufferable, I swear.”

Harry shoots you one of his blindingly bright smiles, wiggling his eyebrows as his pants pool around his feet. “Hey, ‘m just statin’ facts.”

He collapses onto the couch and pats his lap, giving his leaking cock two quick tugs. “Ride me.”

“Just because you won a Grammy doesn’t mean you don’t have to ask nicely anymore.”

“Y/N, my beautiful, dazzling, elegant girlfriend, will you please do me the honors of riding––”

“Why do you make everything so weird?” You groan as Harry laughs and pulls you into his lap with ease, wincing when your thigh brushes against his cock. Wordlessly, he places his hands on your hips and helps you sink down onto him, taking his lip in between his teeth to keep from yelling out.

”Fuck me…”

“I’m about to,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you adjust to his size. His hands roam the expanse of your back as he waits for you to get used to the feeling on him, wanting to feel every part of your body all at once. Without warning, you begin sluggishly rolling your hips. You were in no rush anymore; you had him inside of you, and that was all you wanted from the start.

“S’that all you got in ya?” His tone is cheeky, almost mocking. “I think you can give me more than tha’.”

“I dunno if I can.”

“Why’s that?” Harry bucks his hips upward slightly causing you to let out a loud gasp.

“I just want you to fuck me. I don’t wanna do any work.”

At this, Harry quickly flips you over so your sweaty body is now below his. You moan at the sensation the new angle immediately brought you. “Want me on top like this? This is how you wanna have me, angel?”

You nod. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Harry,” your eyes squeeze shut as Harry begins quickly thrusting into you. “God, yes. That feels amazing.”

“Yeah? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” Harry reaches his hand down to thumb at you clit and raises an eyebrow while awaiting your answer.

“God,” you grab onto your breasts to prevent them from bouncing around as Harry’s thrusting into you but he rips your hand away.

“Wanna see ‘em.”

“Right there,” you moan, no longer trying to bite back your sounds of pleasure. Between Harry eating you out, fingering you, and now fucking you harder than he has in ages, you were a few sloppy thrusts away from coming all over his cock. “I’m gonna cum–”

“...Already?”

You know he’s teasing but you still reach between your sweaty bodies to swat at his bare chest. “Don’t tease!”

“‘M messin’ with ya, puppy,” Harry pushes his curls out of his eyes. “I’m almost there- you first. Cum for me, Y/N.”

Harry doesn’t have to tell you twice. You spasm around his cock as soon as he tells you to, lifting your hips up to meet him as you could tell he was growing tired. Harry pulls out moments later, muttering a quick, “Where do you want it?” before finishing on your chest.

The silence that fills the room is comforting but of course, it’s cut short by your pest of a boyfriend.

“If that's what I got just for winning one Grammy, what would I get if I won the others?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

[happyselves]

Budapest { Lando Norris x reader one shot }

Breaking up sucks as it is, but to be dumped in an airport where you were going to a grand prix of formula 1 was worse … It was both of your dreams and he renounced it because of insecurities toward you. Admitting a “mistake” he had made with one of your commun friends, sleeping with her. You had to think fast in that airport, either you leave and go live one of your dreams or you step out of his place and go back home and cry for weeks. The answer was quickly found. You leave him and his baggage, not turning your back, deciding to not cry for the asshole you had spent so many time building a life he had destroyed in a snap of his fingers.

However the grand prix didn’t happen how you wanted it to. You had not really thought of him, too busy with the environment around you, sharing for your favorite drivers, freely wearing his merch that you had bought because you didn’t have any reason not to know that you didn’t have someone telling you off. Your now ex used to hate when you were showing your obsession and fascination toward the young driver that was Lando Norris. The dit driver had a great start but all his effort went in vain when the Mercedes driver hit the back of his car and ruined his race, forcing him to retire.

At first you didn’t know how to react, but when you saw him on the big screen in front of you, all the sadness and frustration and all the anger and hatred toward your ex boyfriend was transferred to this. You wanted to leave right away, but you stay, to support your team because Daniel Ricciardo was still in the race. You cheered as much as you could, exhausting yourself mentally and physically but it wasn’t enough and the number 3 car was too damaged to reach the point in the head. It was a shame, but that is the hard law of this sport. After this terrible race you had no heart in celebrating the win for Ocon even if you were extremely happy for him, so you went back to your hotel and went to bed.

The next day was quiet and you spent time in the city, you didn't feel great so you just walked through the city and visited stuff … alone. This time no crowd and loud car could distract you from your own thoughts. Your ex boyfriend was all you could think about now. The memories you had together, the dog, the apartment. By leaving and not facing it you were pushing the moment and you knew it will hurt even more next time you will have to face him.

It was the evening and it was getting cooler, you get your merch hoodie out of your bag and wear it. You find a nice spot on a bench in front of the river crossing the city and you put yourself in a cocoon, your legs closed to your chest and your head on your knees, hugging yourself for comfort as you watch the sunset. The tears came on their own, you were lost in your thoughts and you didn’t notice the man sitting next to you. You were so lost that you were now hearing Lando talking to you in your brain.

“You know it’s a pretty spot to watch the sunset, but not alone,” You puff a quick laugh, even your own mind was making stuff up and you didn’t know why, but you were ready to have a full conversation with yourself. At least your brain was nice enough to create someone that looked like your favorite driver. “ That’s funny, I’m that desperate that I’m talking to myself now, great, next stop the psy,” you weren’t waiting for any response, but you got one anyway. “ Well maybe your brain isn’t making this up ?” Another sound came out of you, were you ready to have a full argument with your own self. “ It wouldn’t be the first time I’m daydreaming about a handsome man talking to me out of nowhere, but I know my luck, why do you think I got dumped just before going on vacation ? I’m nothing … “ You were resigned, the tears kept falling and the pain kept coming. “ Well then he is an idiot, to let a beautiful woman, with great taste may I have, go. This man is obviously blind.” You had a great imagination to be able to hear Lando’s voice so clearly in your head that it felt like he was just next to you.

You turn your head toward what you thought the voice was coming from and there he was, sitting next to you, looking at you with fondness. Damn you really needed help if even your blurry eyes by the wet tears could recreate his whole body and face in front of you.

At any point you thought it might be true even if you were both in the same city, the odds were too big and he would probably be in his hotel room by now enjoying some games with his mates on his computer or watching netflix.

“ That’s not fair that you create this for me, I do not deserve to have such a beautiful daydream like this, seeing him this weekend from afar was one thing but to now trick me and build this masquerade in my mind to ease my pain, that’s really new brain.” You were feeling crazy and you were trying not to sound like one, you were talking to yourself and you were scared that others will think of you as someone with less sanitary than an average human being.

Yet, your fake Lando get closer to you and start touching your arm, you didn’t even flinch when you sense his touch, you know you wouldn’t be able to feel anything because if one thing you learn is that touching isn’t a sense the brain is capable of reproduction to the perfection in your brain when you are dreaming. Then why were you feeling it, why suddenly his touch felt so reassuring and real. You blind repeatedly trying to wake yourself from this sweet dream you were living because this couldn’t be real and it was starting to feel scary.

Lando didn’t move his arm from you even if you tried to gently push him away and put some distance back between you. You weren’t certain this wasn’t reality anymore because as you took his arm, you felt him, your grip on him was real. You lock your eyes on him, focusing on every detail of this creation in your own mind. You knew the shirt he was wearing and the shorts as well, you knew how he looks after running as well so that was a normal thing, but every little detail of him only a person being super close to him could imagine, that you had never experienced and yet here everything was here in front of you. He never felt so him and so real in the flesh. Your fingers found the scruff on his chin and felt the small hair tickling your palm.

That’s where you realise … Lando Norris was in front of you, in the flesh as real as you wear. You come back right back to your senses when you see the sunset and keep drawing beautiful colors in the sky. Lando was amused by the situation, you weren’t.

“ Oh sleeping beauty is coming back from the daydream ?” Somehow he arranges a lock of hair missing on your face, putting it behind your ear. You jerk at the touch now knowing that you were imagining things. You stand up quickly and try to avoid him, walking like a lunatic in front of the bench right to left. “ You know, you are the first fan I've met that acts like this, quite refreshing. “ You stop and track and look at him, really look at him.

“ How do you know I am a fan of yours ?” If this wasn’t the dumbest question you had ever asked, you didn’t know how to be more embarassing of yourself.

“ Well at first I wasn’t really sure, then I saw you on that bench, curl up in a small little ball wearing my hoodie merch, then you basically confirm it when you thought I was a pure product of your imagination,” You were hiding your face now, you bet your cheeks were red. You were mortified to ever have thought you were this desperate that your brain could be creating him, but even more when you knew he had to witness that.

“ I’m sincerely sorry, I ruined your evening run, “ You were apologizing to him, ready to take your bag and run away from this situation, to forget everything that happened. It wasn’t the best timing for you to meet one of your idols, that’s not how you had imagined things to go if one day you would have the courage to try and meet him.

As you tried to take your bag, he stopped you and took your arm. It was like the first, but this time all you could think about was the butterflies appearing in your stomach. Lando was the only person you could dump your boyfriend for … your ex-boyfriend. Before you had time to dive in your thoughts once more he spoke to you.

“ Please don’t go, I should be the one apologizing, I let you think you were insane because I was amused and you’ve made my day to be honest. I felt less alone. “ He was brutally honest suddenly and your heart shattered even more, making your recent break up put on the second plan, focusing on the man in front of you only.

It’s true that you didn’t notice at first, but he was looking tired, not only physically but mentaly. He brings you closer to him, silently asking you to sit where you were in the beginning.

You were both smiling to each other and without any of you being able to control it you end up talking a long time on that bench, not realising it was now dark. Only when Lando’s phone buzzed did you both realise that you had been exchanging your deepest secrets to each other, telling each other's life like you were best friends finding their way back to each other. You even forgot he was a famous racing driver at some point, not caring much because you were now truly seeing the man behind the helmet and you like him even more.

You sense a sort of sadness when he picks up his phone to respond to his manager. Of course they were worrying, he told them he was gone for half an hour, not three hours. You thought he would lie about where he was, being cheeky and keeping his privacy and you were ready to take that small hit behind your head that you bring you both back into your respective life, otherwise he surprised you once more by being honest and telling his manager the truth. He was smiling at you and his eyes were glued on your face with that same fondness you thought your brain had made up earlier. He hanged up and his body turn toward you.

“ So as you can guess I have to go, but I have the feeling that if I don’t ask to come with me, it would be one of the biggest mistakes of my life, so … “ He was scared to continue, evaluating the reaction on your face, but he must have seen something in you that confirmed something in him and made him continue, “ I’m not applying anything, it’s to talk obviously, but would you like to accompany me to my hotel and maybe see each other again ? I’m leaving wednesday night, of course you can refuse I wouldn’t take it bad”

Two choices were now in front of you and you could only choose one. The first one was obviously saying no and going back to England where you are from and facing the hard reality of your ex and the second one was to push your plane ticket to next wednesday and spend time with him. There was actually nothing to think about as you simply said yes to him and followed him to his hotel that night. You didn’t do anything, only talking and even meeting the whole team. You tried your best not to fangirl like a teenager but you couldn’t help yourself showing the admiration you had for everyone of them and they already knew with the hoodie you were wearing anyway. That night was one of the best in your life, you talk all night in his room and end up falling asleep on his chest. It is the first time since you’ve been alone that you finally find peace in your sleep and truly rest and somehow you felt it was the same for him. This is why he asks you to stick around with him, even for the Pirelli test. You were not only living your dream now, but you were living it with him and it was even better. You felt lucky and you were now wondering what would have happened if you had not gone to that place and kept those grand prix tickets. You could care less, Lando made you forget all the pain this ex of yours had afflicted you for the past week. You had fun and everyone was so welcoming and nice to you, explaining everything around the paddock, you even found yourself laughing with Daniel Ricciardo at some point during the day.

The looks you send to each other on the other hand were far from being only friendly, there were something more. Your body was acting on its own and he was so receptive to it. Everyone in the garage could sense something that both of you were ignoring, but they were polite enough not to make a word of it or tease the young driver for it. You were secretly thanking them to not make this moment awkward, you were already still thinking you were in a deep dream or coma, not wanting to wake up just yet.

The day went fast and ended up in a nice dinner in his room, still talking and joking. At some point it was the second night in a row you fell asleep on him, while watching something on tv. It really wasn’t your type to trust a stranger even if this one was famous and you “ knew him “. You didn’t want to live dangerously,but for sure that difficult time ahead of you was making you enjoy the best of life without thinking about the next day.

Lando was stroking you slowly as he was finishing the movie you were watching before you found Morphee, kissing your head before turning everything off and joining you in dreamland as well.

You were sure the people at your own hotel were wondering where you were,and when the next day you finally came back to it, Lando quickly behind you, you could swear you had seen a smirk flashing on the front desk woman’s face. You hadn’t expected the man next to you to find a way and arrange the plane ticket you had to take for going home, to be weirdly the same plane as him and the seat next to him. You both didn’t really want to come back to reality and go to your respecting mundane life just yet.

The last day was as good as the day before other than that bittersweet feeling you had depe down, not wanting to let this go just yet. You didn’t know how you could enjoy this little bit of life he had show you, you were already addicted to this lifestyle, to that travel, hotel and paddock life, this crazy life of him and most important you knew how fucked you were because you realise soon enough that you were already addicted to him quite simply.

Both of you were staying quiet about your soon departure from each other and until the last moment you didn’t aboard the subject, but every good dream had a end and it’s on that parking lot when you saw the whole team leaving one by one to find their car that you realise it was the end of his fairy tale. Lando had held your hand tight the whole time, you were ready to let it go and leave this mind forever when he decided otherwise and asked you where you were going tonight now that you weren’t with your boyfriend. You hadn’t thought of that of course you hadn’t, how can you think about this when this beautiful and genuine nice man in front of you had replaced as quickly as he came in your life all your thoughts. It’s like he knew right away and didn’t let you answer, your luggage was already in the lack of his car with him and you were both driving to his place. Every woman would be afraid, why weren’t you that was the question.

“ I’m not ready to let you go, I don’t want to, “ That what he said to you as he pull his car in front of his house before adding up, “ I don’t even think I will be able to let you go ever in the rest of my life, “ You didn’t know what to say to that, you were only focusing on him, only him and the only thing you could think about right now was the close that damn gap between you two and kiss him. So you did and it was even more beautiful that the fireworks on national day, the butterflies in your stomach were moving so much that you could feel yourself flying except you were still in this car with him, his hands in your hair, messing the already messy bun you had for travelling, savoring every bit of your lips for the first time, like it was the last. When you finally pull away from each other to catch your breath, your forehead finds him.

“ I’m not going anywhere. “

MASTERLIST

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 one shot #ormula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #formula one fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one one shot #formula one fanfiction #happyself #happyselves

[freddie-weaselbee]

Grade A Business//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief semi-nudity, slight language, two suggestive comments, y/n drools on fred but like in a cute way

Summary: As one businessman makes a trip across the ocean to talk to new investors, he meets his new partner, someone a lot more familiar than he was expecting. 

Prompts: Only One Bed with dialogue prompts “if we get caught, I’m blaming you” and “I don't want to be alone”

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Day 2 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

  Fred had never gotten used to traveling on Muggle airplanes. He never had a need to before, not with everything being a train ride, floo network, or apparition away. But as he and George progressed into adulthood, and the businessman life no less, they found themselves constantly on the move and needing a fast and easy way to travel without drawing suspicion. Except for the one time that Fred’s magical briefcase set off every airport security system imaginable, but he’d learned from that mistake. 

He was relieved to be exiting the JFK airport in New York City, clutching his luggage and thanking Merlin that his feet could now touch solid ground. Being in one of those huge steel contraptions was nothing like flying in a broom. He had no control over anything and it drove him absolutely insane. Luckily, he was safe now, and one step closer to being done with this awful business trip. 

At the beginning of their business endeavors, Fred and George would travel together, trying to pick up business at other locations for Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes. But as the shop grew and the locations became more and more foreign (so far having shops in Paris, Cairo, and Madrid) the brothers realized that the operations would have to be solo missions to allow for the other to run the shop for longer periods of time. Usually Fred didn’t mind taking the trips by himself. In fact, he rather enjoyed the alone time and flexibility in schedule. But this meeting was supposed to be a big one, and he was feeling quite nervous about having to tackle it himself. 

Big investors located in the states were meeting with him to discuss opening a joint operation in New York City, combining his shop with another renowned wizard business that they deemed would be most profitable. Fred groaned internally just thinking about it. He didn’t want to have to share this new shop with anyone, no matter what the new investors thought. What if the other co-owner was a horrible person? Or worse, what if they had no sense of humor? They’d ruin the Weasley reputation and make it some boring book store. Or puzzle shop? Honestly Fred didn’t know much about the other business, just that he already didn’t like it. 

Hailing a cab, a trick his sister-in-law Hermione had shown him years ago, Fred lugged all of his prototypes--skillfully hidden from Muggle eyes and detection systems by layers of spells--into the trunk before hopping in, giving the address of the hotel the investors had booked for him. He was about to shut the door when a panting scream startled him enough to make him stop. 

“Wait! Hold the cab!”

Doing as he was told, Fred kept the door open and allowed the stranger to climb in, suitcase and all. 

“Thanks,” you said, Fred noting your distinct British accent and strikingly familiar features. “I really need to get to my hotel, I appreciate it--”

“Y/N?”

Shocked, you finally looked at your ride partner’s face for the first time. Soft brown eyes. Freckled face. Bright ginger hair. 

“Fred?! Fred Weasley?” You knew for a fact you weren’t mistaken, this was definitely the Fred you remembered. Or maybe it could have been George? It had been so long since you had seen either of them. Since Hogwarts, in fact. 

Luckily, Fred nodded, confirming your belief that this was the older Weasley twin and saving yourself from heaps of embarrassment. “Y/N L/N, what are you doing here?”

Fred and you both wore matching grins, stretching from ear to ear. What an insane coincidence. What were the chances that you two would be in the same cab, in the same city, in the same foreign country?

“I’m actually here for business,” you said. “After Hogwarts I opened my own shop--”

“Excuse me,” the cab driver interrupted, wasting no time with politeness nor formalities. “But I have cars lined up behind me and I don’t know where you wanna go little lady. So let’s get on with it, if you will.”

“Oh, yeah of course. It’s, umm, oh shit which hotel was it? It’s on 53rd and 10th, I know that…” You trailed off, trying to remember what your hotel was called. You dug around in your purse, hoping to find a piece of paper with the name on it. “I think it was called--”

“Lotus Hotel.”

It was Fred who had interrupted you, once again, and once again you were just as bewildered as before.

“That’s right,” you said after a few seconds of confused silence. “Yes, yes the Lotus Hotel please,” you told the driver with confidence. Turning back to Fred you tried in earnest to understand what was happening. 

“So same location?” the driver asked, to which Fred confirmed before you were speeding off down the crowded streets of the city. 

“Oh, I get it,” you said in understanding. “Same hotel as me?”

“That is correct, love. What are the odds?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a half suggestive half just plain goofy manner, awkwardly shuffling so that his long legs had room amongst your many bags. 

“That is quite a coincidence,” you agreed. “Funny thing is, I didn’t even choose the location. I have a business meeting in the morning with possible investors and they set everything up for the stay.”

Fred’s mouth practically dropped open at what you had said. “You’re kidding. These investors don’t happen to be Robbie Goldstein and Rachel McMillan, do they?”

“Ok, you need to stop doing that,” you said, officially freaked. “That’s the third time you’ve predicted something and it’s starting to creep me out. You never were very good at legilimency.”

He hushed you quickly, hoping the cab driver hadn’t caught onto the magical term you just used. Thankfully, he was too focused on the roads to notice. 

“Ok, Y/N, one last question.”

“And then you’ll explain how you know all this?”

Fred ignored your question and continued with his own. “You said you opened a business. Are you perhaps meeting with another business owner to discuss a collaboration on a new store opening in the city?”

“Yes!” you said, eager to know how Fred could have known that. Was this another one of his pranks? Did he have hidden cameras in the cab somewhere? “How do you know all this?”

He only laughed, a joyous and very relieved grin overtaking his face. Sticking out his right hand, he grabbed yours and shook it eagerly. “Well, Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to be reacquainted. I’m Frederick Weasley, your new potential partner.”

------------------------------

“You know, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Oh thank Godric, I was worried you’d think I was grown up and mature now.”

You laughed heartily as you dragged your bags out of the cab, thanking the driver before he grunted annoyedly and drove off. Your drive from the airport had gone faster than expected, mostly due to the fact that you and Fred had so much to catch up on. 

After he and George had left Hogwarts in their grand exit, they’d created the shop they’d always dreamed of, parking it right in the middle of Diagon Alley. You, on the other hand, went about creating your success in a much more conventional way. After finishing your last year of school, you started working full time at Zonko’s at Hogsmeade, trying to save up enough money to start your own business. 

Many long hours and tiring days later, you opened up your little place, a toy store and puzzle shop. It was a similar setup to what the Weasleys did, but as you described it, “my toys don’t blow up in the user's face.”

You were now very excited for tomorrow’s meeting, the one you had been dreading beforehand. Your business was much smaller than Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and this would be your first international location. You were afraid that the owner you would be forced to work with would be some stuck up rich big whig who wouldn’t allow you to keep any of your small business charm in the new location. But learning that you would be working with Fred, well that was a relief for many reasons. 

Fred rang the hotel desk bell, chatting happily about ideas for the shared shop and new products that fit with what both of you wanted to do. 

“Hello there,” said the hotel receptionist, coming around the corner. “What can I do for you today?”

“Two night stay for Frederick Weasley,” said Fred. “Should’ve been booked by Robbie Goldstein.”

The young man typed quickly into his computer before offering Fred a hotel key card. “Here you are Mr. Weasley, room 504. We serve complimentary breakfast from 6 to 9 every morning down in our west hall. If you need anything don’t be afraid to call down and we’ll assist you in any way we can.”

Fred nodded at the man. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He turned to leave before you grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him back. 

“Wait for me,” you said. “I’m not finished talking to you yet.”

Fred smiled and waited behind you as you took your turn at the desk. 

“Y/N L/N, also booked by Robbie Goldstein.” 

He clicked away again but paused for a few seconds, seemingly confused. “You said Y/N L/N?”

Starting to get nervous, you nodded. “Yes, that’s me. Is the reservation not there?” You didn’t want to think about having to find somewhere else to stay, especially because it was getting so late. 

“Oh no,” the man replied. “It’s here all right.” Ignoring the confused looks you and Fred were giving each other, the receptionist handed you a hotel key card and gestured to the elevator. “Thank you for choosing to stay with us. You’ll be staying for two nights in room 504. Don’t forget to enjoy our complimentary breakfast from 6--”

“I’m sorry,” Fred interrupted. “But that’s my room. You did say 504, right?”

“Yes sir,” he replied, not bothering to try to understand the predicament. “Mr. Goldstein booked one room for the both of you.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Fred, silently asking him to help you figure this out. But instead, Fred just broke out laughing, having to brace himself on the front desk. 

“I guess that’s what you expect when you let two investors who specialize in pranking shops make the room accommodations.”

“This isn’t funny Fred,” you said, although you had to give Robbie and Rachel credit for this joke. Turning to the receptionist, you sighed and ran your hands through your hair. “There’s at least two separate beds, right?”

He glanced down at his computer screen before looking back up at you with a guilty smile. “Well, about that…”

------------------------------

“Alright, I’ll take the couch, I’m sure it’s a pullout, it has to be.”

Fred stood in the doorway watching you mumble mostly to yourself. As tired as he was and as much as he wanted to just lie down and sleep, somehow watching you freak out about the sleeping arrangements was a much better use of his time. 

He watched as you threw the pillows and cushions off of the couch and felt around for a lever, something, anything that would allow you a place to rest. Your face lit up as you felt a small impression and yanked with all your might, only causing you to thump backwards onto your butt on the hotel room floor. 

Kicking off his shoes, Fred jumped onto the bed, sighing as he let his body relax. “Come on in darling, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

He opened one eye slightly, just enough to see your reaction. You were trying again to make the couch open, although you both knew that it wasn’t a pullout. Nevertheless, you kept pulling at every spot you thought could make a difference. 

It reminded Fred of the good old days, back at Hogwarts when you two were so close. You were always so stubborn, and he didn’t realize just how much he had missed having you in his life. He always wondered what happened to you after he and George left, but with the shop opening up and the war around the corner, he never had the thought to write you or track you down. He hoped this time after you two parted ways you would still remain in touch. 

You groaned loudly, slapping the couch with one of the pillows you had thrown earlier. Nothing was going as planned and you couldn’t be more annoyed. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “I’ll just sleep on the couch, no need for a pullout.” You stomped over to the bed and angrily pulled the blanket from off of him. 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to grab it back but you were too quick. “That’s not fair, it’s cold!”

“If you get the bed,” you said, wrapping yourself up, “then I get to stay warm. Now go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He couldn’t help but giggle at the small bundle of you wrapped up in the hotel quilt, looking like an angry little burrito. Standing, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the corner, followed next by his undershirt before he unbuckled his belt. He turned to face you slowly, feeling your eyes on him as they peeked out of your wrapping. 

You quickly turned your gaze and glared at the floor. “What are you doing?” you said, hoping Fred didn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks. He did. 

He continued to undress, leaving him only in a pair of red boxers that left little to the imagination. “Going to bed, as you said,” he replied nonchalantly. He grabbed a toothbrush from his suitcase and made his way to the bathroom, making sure to walk extra slowly and give you a longer show. 

“This is so unprofessional!” you yelled after him. 

“We’re not business partners until tomorrow, love,” Fred said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “As far as I see it we can do anything we want tonight.”

Rolling your eyes, you shed the large blanket and grabbed an oversized t-shirt from your bag, hoping you’d be able to change before Fred finished in the bathroom. As he emerged, he saw the tail end of you throwing the shirt on, flashing your thighs and part of your panties for half a second. He averted his eyes out of respect, but that didn’t stop his imagination from running away with what he just saw. 

You shuffled past him, taking your turn in the bathroom. How in the world had this happened? How had a nice catch-up with a friend turned into an awkward back and forth the night before the most important business meeting of your life?

All you wanted to do was fall asleep, go through with whatever tomorrow brought you, and pretend like this never happened. But as you came out of the bathroom, you saw that Fred had taken the blanket back, leaving you with nothing except your t-shirt and an uncomfortable couch. 

“Fred, let me have it,” you said, trying to yank it from his grip. 

“No,” he mumbled, voice muffled by one of the many pillows he was cuddled with. 

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, give me the blanket now or so help me…”

Instead of responding, he just reached out and patted you on the top of your head before rolling over and pretending to snore. He was infuriating. 

You sulked back to the couch, accepting your defeat. You pulled out all of the clothes in your bag, hoping they could form as some sort of makeshift blanket. But after a few minutes of shivering and curling into the smallest ball possible, you realized that you’d never manage to sleep like this. Fred was staring at you, partially amused and partially concerned. You looked away. 

“You can always share with me, you know,” he said, patting the bed next to him. 

You scoffed and turned away. “Like I said, Fred, we’re soon-to-be business partners. Imagine how that would look! I’m fine right here, thank you.”

After a few seconds of silence you snuck another look at him. He hadn’t moved an inch, and was instead looking more concerned than before. “You’re going to freeze to death over there.”

“Well maybe that’s because someone stole my blanket.”

“The blanket comes with the bed, and the bed comes with me. Take it or leave it.”

It took everything in you not to scream. You wanted that warm, soft, comfortable bed more than anything at the moment. You needed it. Oh but it would send such a bad message if anyone ever found out…

“If we get caught I’m blaming you,” you relented, trudging over to the bed and crawling underneath the covers, ripping the blanket from a very amused Fred. 

“Who’s gonna catch us, Robbie and Rachel? They’re the ones that set this up! Trust me, nothing’s going to happen.” 

“It better not,” you said. “And make sure you stay on your side of the bed, I mean it! No touching.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” Fred said, rolling slightly closer to you. “You act as if we’ve never done this before. We’ve slept with each other dozens of times.”

Your face went red at his words, wishing he would have phrased it a different way. 

“You know what I mean,” he said quickly, hearing how his words came across. “But the amount of times we’ve cuddled up in the Gryffindor common room or up stargazing in the astronomy tower. It’s just me, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“We were also 17 and a lot closer back then,” you retorted, remembering the fond memories you had from your high school days. 

Fred huffed and returned to his side. “I’m not saying we weren’t. I just wish you weren’t acting so different now. It’s like we’re barely friends anymore…” His voice drifted off, wishing that he could go back and change the past. It had been 8 years since he last saw you. 8 whole years. Maybe things would’ve been different if he had tried to stay in touch. You’d never even visited his shop in those 8 years, never seen everything he was so proud of. He was stupid to think that one reunion was going to bring back a friendship that was practically already dead. He was even more stupid to think that maybe, just maybe, fate was giving him one last chance to shoot his shot, close to a decade later. What a right idiot he was. 

On the other side of the bed, less than a meter away, similar thoughts raced through your mind. 8 years. Why hadn’t you, in 8 years, made one trip to visit their shop. Sure, there was a war going on and you were busy starting your own shop, but things had been fairly calm the last few years. Why had you never reached out? Almost subconsciously, you reached out physically for Fred. Your hand brushed up against his back before you tensed and drew back. You both stilled for a few moments, before Fred rolled over, facing you. 

The two of you just stared at each other, both playing mental images of what your lives could have looked like the last 8 years if just one of you had done something. 

“You’re not seeing anyone, are you?” Fred asked, breaking the silence. You shook your head. He moved closer. 

“Are you?” you asked. He shook his head. You moved closer. 

Your faces were now about a foot apart. You moved your hand to rest it between your face and the pillow. Fred copied your actions. You laughed softly, the movement causing a strand of hair to fall into your face. 

Fred reached his hand out to move it before hesitating. “Can I?” His voice was so soft, so full of care. His hand hesitated in the air for a second before you nodded. He brushed the strands behind your ear, fingertips so gentle that you got chills up and down your spine. He let his hand linger before it moved to cup your face. “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled and leaned into his touch. “I’ve missed you too, Freddie.”

His hand left your face and moved down to your waist, eyes not leaving yours in case you ever grew uncomfortable. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him just like you used to do all those years ago. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and hummed contently, before both of you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

------------------------------

“Freddie, Y/N! How are ya!”

Robbie Goldstein, a plump man with fading hair ran up to greet you and Fred in the lobby of his and his partner’s office, shaking both of your hands fervently. 

“Hey Robbie,” said Fred, slapping the man on the back. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Same with me,” you said, glad you could finally meet the man with whom you’d been discussing business through letters in person. 

Robbie looked between the two of you, sly grin on his face. “Ah, so I see you’ve already met them. Wouldn’t happen to be because of a little mishap at the hotel last night, would it?”

You groaned internally, hating that someone else knew about the previous night, but Fred only laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“A great prank, I must admit, but Y/N and I actually go way back. I’ve known her since I was 11 years old, so nice try. I couldn’t imagine how that would’ve gone if we were complete strangers.”

Robbie’s face fell a little before he shrugged and nodded his head in defeat. “Well, what are the odds of that?”

“Astronomical,” you said, giving Fred a subtle tap with your foot. 

Robbie gestured for the two of you to follow him into the conference room where discussions about the new business would commence. “Well, I’m glad that you two seem to get along then, this is going to make things a lot easier. Oh, and don’t worry about arrangements tonight, I’ve decided not to let my joke stretch on and I booked another room for one of you for your last night in town.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Fred, and stepped into the conference room. “Thanks Robbie, that makes things a lot easier.”

“Yeah,” said Fred hesitantly, “thanks for that.”

He shut the door behind you and straightened up. There was no place for personal feelings in this business negotiation. He needed to do what was best for his company and yours, no distractions. No thoughts of crushed hope that suddenly plagued his mind. 

------------------------------

Fred hated the bed he was sleeping on. Granted, it was the same bed as the night before, but this time it felt different. It felt like it was mocking him. You had been the one to offer to change rooms and it seemed like you couldn’t wait to get out of there and to your own bedroom, free of any Weasleys. It made Fred sick to think about. 

He had just gotten used to the idea of something happening between the two of you. Last night, it all seemed perfect. You had cuddled the same way you had before, talked like nothing had changed. Hell, he even woke up with you lying sprawled out on top of him, a little trickle of drool falling onto his chest. He didn’t mind. 

But now, everything that happened the night before seemed like a dream. 

Fred knew he’d at least get to see you sporadically from now on. Your business negotiations with Robbie and Rachel went great, and the two of you, three counting George, were going to be combining forces and opening a joke and toy shop in the city sometime within the next year. It went exactly how Fred had wanted it to go, and yet so horribly wrong at the same time. 

He didn’t want to only interact with you as a business partner and casual friend. He wanted so much more than you were willing to give him, and having to see you and write you and work with you was going to be torture for him. He buried his face in the pillows, gripping the large blanket to his chest, wishing it was you instead. Stupid Robbie and his stupid pranks and stupid business and--

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Fred lifted his head to check the clock. It was 2 in the morning. Who in the world would be knocking this late at night? Fred slowly got out of bed, too tired to bother putting anything more decent on. He looked through the peephole of the door but his eyes were too blurry to make anything out. Groaning, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

Standing in front of him, clothed in the oversized t-shirt from last night and a pair of booty shorts, was you, looking nervous and embarrassed. Fred hadn’t noticed the previous day, but the shirt you had been wearing was one of his old Quidditch practice jerseys, all beat up and way too huge on you. He remembered the day he gave that to you, or rather when you stole it from him because you complained about it being too cold. Fred had to hold back a laugh at the irony. 

“I, umm,” you started, not knowing what to say to him. How were you supposed to explain that you missed him so much that spending one night away from him was too much for you to bear? How last night had been the best sleep you had in years because of how content and at peace he made you feel. How could you convey all of your feelings to him at this very moment?

“I don’t want to be alone.”

Fred wasted no time in picking you up, laughing as you screamed and kicked your legs around. “Fred Weasley, you put me down!”

He did as he was told and threw you onto the bed before jumping, arms and legs spread out, and landing straight on top of you. “I’m so glad you're here,” he said, peppering your cheeks with kisses. He pushed himself up, scanning your face to make sure what he did was ok, but you grabbed his face in your cheeks and pulled him down into a long kiss. Fred smiled through the kiss, almost laughing at how everything was working out. Maybe fate did have something to do with it after all. 

Fred pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “So,” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “how about we put this bed to good use?”

Tag List: @famdomhideout​ @amourtentiaa​

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #only one bed

[blu-joons]

When You Struggle To Write Your Essay ~ Seventeen Reaction

S.Coups:

You could feel Seungcheol’s presence beside you as you typed away at your computer, glancing across at him, noticing the warm smile that he wore. “I just watched you switch tabs, you’re terrible at playing this game.”

“The essay is stupid,” you stated, slamming your hands on the desk, “Instagram is much better.”

“It’s also an unproductive way to spend your time,” he reminded you, lifting you out of the chair so that you could sit in his lap. “You’ve worked so hard on this essay, don’t let a bump in the road put you off now.”

You sighed back at him, “first of all, Instagram is a very productive way to spend my time and see what everyone else is up to. Secondly, I’ve spent well over an hour on this essay and haven’t got a damn word to show for it.”

“Like I said, you’ve just hit a bump,” Seungcheol tried to assure you, “but you can’t be so hard on yourself about it. Why don’t you take a break for a while, a proper break, at least get away from your computer?”

“Do you really think that’ll make life easier?” You questioned, smiling as he nodded back at you.

His arms tightened around your waist, “let’s do something to distract your mind, whatever you want to do. I’m sure when you come back to your work, you’ll find your flow once again.”

“Although I’ve just spent an hour on social media, I deserve a break, right?”

Jeonghan:

A gasp escaped from you as Jeonghan pulled away just as you leaned forwards to press a kiss against his lips. “I told you, no kiss until you get that section of your essay complete,” he teased, moving back away from you.

“Do you really want to play this game with me?” You sighed, sinking down in your chair.

“I told you how this was going to work, you can’t try and cheat your way out of doing your work by trying to kiss me when I’m not paying attention,” Jeonghan reminded you, taking a seat opposite your desk.

Your eyes stared helplessly back across at him, “why are you doing this to me? I thought it was just going to be a joke, I didn’t think you’d actually stop kissing me. How am I supposed to work without a kiss from you?”

“That’s for you to figure out,” he continued to joke, “I know that you can get this done, you’re just beating yourself up about it right now. The section is nearly complete, and then I promise that I am all yours.”

“Are you going to sit there and tease me whilst I write?” You asked, unsurprised to see his head nod.

He settled himself back against the desk chair, “I’m not going to tease, I’m just going to sit here and remind you of the reward that you’ll get once you finally get that part of the essay done.”

“That’s definitely teasing Jeonghan, no way is it a reward.”

Joshua:

The smell of food caught your attention before Joshua even managed to walk into your apartment. “Don’t be getting any ideas,” he warned you, “this is for you only if you’ve finished writing that paragraph, I left you on.”

“It’s all written, I promise, you can come and see for yourself,” you spoke, pointing it out to him.

“See, I told you that you’d be able to do it,” he proudly smiled, relieved to see you’d finally completed the paragraph you’d been stuck on for most of the afternoon. “It’s a good job I went out and got your favourite too.”

Your eyes lit up, silently cursing at yourself for not recognising the smell of the food straight away. “You’re the best, thank you so much. Let me just save what I’ve done and then I’ll be through to join you for dinner.”

“I wouldn’t move too quickly,” Joshua called out to you, “I went out and got dessert too, but you can only have that if you write another paragraph. And don’t even try and argue with me because I know you’re capable.”

“Are you really using food as a weapon to try and bribe me right now?” You asked of him.

With a smug smile, his head nodded back at you, “it’s working, isn’t it? I know the way to your heart, and it’s by nothing else but food, that’s how you’re going to get this essay done.”

“As bad as it is, I definitely think your right on that one.”

Jun:

When Junhui first began to ask you questions about your essay, you failed to understand what the point was, until slowly answers started to come together. “Write that down, you can use it in section three, can’t you?”

“I think so,” you hummed, writing it down anyway, noticing how big your document was getting.

“What else is there that you need to talk about?” He asked, peering over your shoulder to have a look at the essay brief. “It looks like we’ve managed to get quite a few ideas down for you to write there my love.”

Your head shook at how much was written, “I don’t know who taught you such an incredible skill but thank you for helping me to write almost my entire essay. I really have no idea what I’d do without you Jun.”

“It’s all on you, all I did was ask the questions, and you gave me the answers,” he reminded you, sitting back down on the bed behind you. “Do you want me to stick around whilst you write that into something resembling an essay.”

“It’s up to you, but don’t feel like you have to, you’ve done enough for me,” you assured him.

He shrugged back at you, making himself comfortable. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. I could read over it too if you want when it’s done, make sure that it all makes sense?”

“That would be amazing, you really are the best Junhui.”

Hoshi:

Your smile grew as Soonyoung walked over to you, taking a seat at your desk, staring back at you. “I promise I’m not going to do anything; I’m just going to sit here as moral support whilst you carry on with your writing.”

“Do you know how distracting it is just to have your face there?” You laughed, gently pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Well, when you hit a brick wall or you’re struggling to think about what to write next, you can just look over at me and I can be your inspiration to try and figure out what it is that you want to write,” he assured you.

Your head shook back at him, “I don’t want to look back at my laptop now I get to look at you. I need to find a lot of inspiration for now, so I might just have to stare at you for a little while, as long as you don’t mind?”

“If it helps with your work, then there’s no complaints from me,” Soonyoung chuckled, resting his head into his hand. “Just don’t stare too long, because you might get lost in my eyes or something and forget about your work.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” you teased, moving a little closer towards him.

Soonyoung quickly moved you back, keeping a distance between the two of you. “You’ve got work to do, don’t be getting any ideas. You can have plenty of what you want when your work is done.”

“You’re a horrendous tease, I can’t believe you’d do that to me.”

Wonwoo:

The moment Wonwoo suggested giving you a helping hand with your essay, you knew it was going to do anything but help you out with your essay. “What even is this thing on? Surely even I can understand what it means.”

“It looks at patterns of migration in variations of native African animals,” you informed him, noticing how quickly his expression dropped.

“Alright, well, with a bit of research I’m sure I can contribute something,” he muttered underneath his breath, quickly doubting how effective his plan seemed to initially be. “Do you have a book or something on it?”

Your head shook, tapping the top of your head. “All the information is stored up here for me to remember, but because you said you’d be such a big help, I’m sure you don’t need a book to research anything, right?”

“Okay, so maybe I underestimated just how difficult your essay would be,” he admitted, sighing across at you, “I know it’s difficult, but you’ve just got to stick at it, I won’t have you give up on all of this now.”

“You’re meant to be the smart one between the two of us, and even you’re confused,” you sighed.

Wonwoo’s head shook, pressing a kiss against the top of your own. “You’re definitely the smart one, there’s no way I could ever do the work that your doing, it’s incredible, really.”

“The offer is still there if you want to write it for me.”

Woozi:

He failed to remember the last time he’d seen you move as he came out from his studio and noticed you still sat in front of your laptop. “Y/N?” He called out, only to be met by silence, walking across to you.

“Sorry,” you muttered as his hand waved in front of your face to try and wake you up. “When did you get out of the studio?”

“I don’t think that matters right now, what matters is waking you up a bit, you’re driving yourself crazy with this essay,” he frowned, pulling your chair away from your desk to give you a bit of room to stretch out.

Your head shook, reaching out to pull yourself back, only for Jihoon to get in the way. “I know that you care Jihoon, but I was only daydreaming for five minutes, we’ve both got work to do, so let’s get on with it, shall we?”

“If you think I’m going to let you go back to doing some work in your current state then you are very much mistaken Y/N.” He established continuing to stare down at you, “I can tell you’ve been daydreaming for a lot longer too.”

“Alright, so maybe I was out of it for a while, but that’s time I need to make up for,” you groaned.

Jihoon continued to shake his head back at you, “when I told you I wasn’t moving, I meant it. For once, I’m not messing around, I’m going to make sure that you look after yourself.”

“I’m too tired to even bother arguing anymore with you.”

DK:

As yet another yawn left you, it was the final straw for Seokmin, walking around to your desk and standing in between you and your laptop. “You’ve got two choices, nap with me, or go and have a nap by yourself.”

“Can’t I just decline both of them?” You questioned, trying to peer around his waist so that you could look back at your essay.

“I’m not budging, and these hips are wide,” he smiled, stepping each time you moved. “Y/N, you’re exhausted, and don’t even try to deny it. At least close your eyes for half an hour and then come back to your work.”

Your head tried to shake, but as it did, another yawn escaped, rendering your argument pointless. “I can sleep for days once this essay is submitted Min, but until then, a trip to bed will just have to wait for me.”

“You’re not going to win,” he joked, staring down at you in front of him. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way, and I’m happy to do either. So, I’ll leave it up to you to decide what you want to do.”

“That depends, what’s the easy way and what’s the hard way?” You challenged back to him.

His head nodded, “I’m guessing you’ve chosen the hard way,” he announced, bending down and wrapping his arms around you before scooping you off of your chair with ease.

“I would’ve still chosen the easy way I’ll have you know.”

Mingyu:

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you, instantly drawing you out of the daydream that you found yourself in, staring at your half-written essay. “You’re coming with me for a while before you drive yourself crazy.”

“Mingyu, I need to get this done,” you huffed, trying to pull his arms away from your waist, but he was far too strong to budge.

“What you need to do, is forget about your essay for a while, and then you can go back to it with a clearer head in a bit,” he assured you, pulling you down on top of him as he fell onto the sofa, keeping a hold of you.

Despite your protests, it didn’t take long before you made yourself comfortable cuddled into his side. “I’ve still got plenty of work to do, no matter how much you want to use a break as an excuse to cuddle me.”

“I mean it was part of the reason, but also because I’m worried about you too. Everyone needs to take breaks, even if you think it’s wrong. You’ll go back to your essay and ace it,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You sound confident for someone that makes it very hard to leave a cuddle,” you joked.

Mingyu’s eyes rolled back at you, “to say you were reluctant to cuddle me, you’ve very quickly changed your tune. I guess cuddling me is never as bad as you think it is.”

“There’s nothing bad ever about cuddling with you.”

The8:

Minghao had watched you shut yourself away for far too long when it came to writing your essay, sensing just how unproductive you were getting. “Talk to me about it,” he announced when you stopped writing again.

“What are you on about?” You questioned, jumping slightly at the sound of his voice. “What are we supposed to talk about?”

“Your essay,” he smiled, placing his phone down beside him so that you had his full attention. “It’s supposed to help talking about things, so why don’t you give me some of your ideas and see what you think about them aloud?”

You stared questionably across at him, “are you really telling me that you want to sit here and listen to me talk to you about a subject you have no idea about? Did you even study psychology at school to know things?”

“I haven’t got a clue, but that might help. Explain it to me, and if it’s simple enough for me to understand, then it’s simple enough to go in your essay too, right?” He suggested, noticing the way in which your eyes lit up.

“Do you know, that might not be such a bad idea, I need the practice right now,” you grinned.

His head nodded, moving himself a little closer towards you, “why don’t you go from the beginning in that case, and make sure to write it down. I’m all ears whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright, I hope you’re prepared to pay close attention to me.”

Seungkwan:

As another sigh echoed out around the room, Seungkwan stood up from his own desk, walking around to you, resting his hands against your shoulders. “How’s it going?” He asked, staring at your empty page.

“Terribly,” you frowned, leaning back to rest against his chest, “do you fancy swapping and writing this for me Kwan?”

“I love you, but not enough to write a three-thousand-word essay,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of your head, “you’ve just got to keep working at it, and eventually it’ll all come together into something beautiful.”

His words were kind, but you were far from convinced. “I’ve stared at this screen for three hours, written one sentence, and then deleted it. It’s like I’m destined to just fail this essay and mess up my grades at the last minute.”

“Well, you won’t get very far with a negative attitude like that,” Seungkwan pointed out to you, “as hard as it is, you’ve just got to remain positive for now and trust in that brain of yours that the work will write itself.”

“My brain feels like it’s never been so useless as it is right now,” you continued to vent.

Seungkwan’s lips pressed against the top of your head, “you’re being too hard on yourself, just relax, and I promise that the work will come to you and you’ll get a great essay written.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without your positivity sometimes.”

Vernon:

Your brows furrowed as soon as you looked around to see your phone no longer on your desk, failing to remember where you’d last put it. “Looking for something?” A voice questioned, as the pieces very quickly came together.

“That’s unfair,” you cried out, unsurprised when you looked around to see Vernon holding onto your phone in his hands.

“You keep getting distracted, but you’re almost at the end, all you’ve got left to write is your conclusion. Let me keep a hold of this,” he propositioned, “and I bet in an hour you can have that essay completed to word count.”

Your eyes rolled, however good of an idea of his it seemed to be. “I was doing just fine with this work before you came over and stole my belongings. I’ve barely even been on my phone that much today you know.”

“Y/N, every time I look up, you’re typing away on your phone,” he chuckled, shaking his head at your protests. “You’ll thank me for doing this in a little while once your essay is complete and you’re not worrying anymore.”

“I’m not just typing, I’m doing research as well,” you tried to protest.

Vernon scoffed back at you, “Twitter is not research, however hard you want to try and convince yourself otherwise. Now, get it written, and then you can scroll through your feeds.”

“You really can be evil sometimes; do you know that?”

Dino:

It was obvious to Chan that you were beginning to struggle with your essay, you’d barely focused on it for quite some time, finding every distraction possible. “I’ve got a suggestion,” he called out as you picked up your phone again.

“What’s that?” You questioned, looking away from your computer to his figure that was sat across the room.

“I’ll order us takeout for dinner, my treat, if you get two hundred words done in the next hour,” Chan proposed, noticing how quickly your eyes lit up at the mention of food. “But only if you get your work done.”

A loud groan came from you, “I just knew that food would come at a price, it always does with you. Can’t we agree on one hundred, do you know how much effort two hundred words is going to take?”

“I do, but I also know how much better you’ll feel once you get it done,” he proudly smirked, knowing that he was right. “Just get your head done, if food isn’t a good enough goal for you to reach, I don’t know what is.”

“You promise that two hundred is all I need for takeout?” You quizzed.

Chan’s head nodded back at you with a laugh, “I promise, as soon as you add two hundred words to that essay, a menu of your choosing will be ordered for dinner, and all paid for by me.”

“Alright, I guess I better get my head down then.”

---

Masterlist

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario #s.coups imagine #jeonghan imagine #joshua imagine #jun imagine #hoshi imagine #wonwoo imagine #mingyu imagine #woozi imagine #dk imagine #seungkwan imagine #vernon imagine #the8 imagine #dino imagine #s.coups #jeonghan #joshua #jun #hoshi #wonwoo #mingyu #woozi #dk #seungkwan #vernon #the8 #dino

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

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[hyungieyoongi]

History: “Run Away to You” Part 2

How could you have protected me?

When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Genre: Angst (Not gonna lie, this part is pretty angsty. Please don’t hate me, we have to set up the angst to get to the fluff later, okay??)

Warnings: Reader has a panic attack, mentions of anxiety, arguing, crying – there are a lot of emotions Reader and Yoongi have to process

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

Your hands shook as you tried to fit the key into the lock of your apartment door. You missed the keyhole twice, finally succeeding in twisting the lock open with a satisfying click on your third attempt. Swinging the door open with a sigh, you gestured for Yoongi to head in first. You hadn’t spoken a single word to each other since you left the corner store. The silence created a thick tension for the duration of your short, one-block walk.

He walked into your apartment without a glance in your direction, slipping his shoes off by the front door. As he stepped further into your apartment, you closed the door, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down.

Flashback

The first time Yoongi came to your apartment, you had been a nervous wreck. You anxiously kept glancing at the clock on the wall–he was supposed to be there at 8:00 p.m. It was currently 8:03 p.m., and you were already thinking he wasn’t going to show.

A costar on the K-drama you were cast in had introduced the two of you at an awards show you were invited to attend three months ago. Yoongi seemed nice, but quiet, shaking your hand politely and asking if you enjoyed your work. The conversation lasted maybe two minutes. Fleeting, meaningless.

Then you ran into him again two months later at an album launch party for another popular K-pop group. The conversation was longer this time, Yoongi slipping away from his bandmates to talk to you. The champagne you were drinking that night made you giggly, your cheeks pink from the alcohol. He asked for your number, a gummy smile appearing when you said “yes” a little too enthusiastically.  

After texting casually, you progressed to phone calls, then video calls. This was the first time you were going to hang out together. Movies and takeout had never felt so intimidating. There was a knock at your door, and you sprang up to answer it. You took a deep breath, counted to five, and then opened the door, Yoongi standing there with a sheepish smile, donning a black hoodie.

“Hi, Y/N.”

End of Flashback

You spun around when you heard Yoongi cough, finally breaking the silence.

“Your apartment is different than I thought it would be,” Yoongi observed. He took off his hat and his mask, placing them on your coffee table in front of the couch. He shook out his hair, running his right hand through the dark locks. You swallowed hard, blaming the slight flush to your cheeks on nerves rather than how attractive Yoongi looked messing with his hair.

Your old apartment had been large and glamorous, outfitted with state-of-the-art appliances and expensive furniture. This one was a third of the size and infinitely cozier and more comfortable.

“Well, my old apartment was paid for by the production company. When I moved, I figured I’d get something a little more ‘me,’” you explained.  

“Right. When you moved,” Yoongi emphasized, bitterness lacing his words. “You mean ran away, right?”

“Listen, Yoongi, I know you probably want an explanation–”

“I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyebrow quirking up slightly. You had seen that incredulous look on his face before when you two had gotten into arguments.

Flashback

“Come on, Yoongs, you have to be better about taking care of yourself. This pace is unsustainable, and you know it,” you said to him angrily. You were sat on the couch in the Genius Lab, the man in question glaring at you from the chair at his desk.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Y/N, you were filming until 3:00 a.m. yesterday because you wanted the shot to be perfect. Don’t start with me on this,” Yoongi countered.

“But you’re here until 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. every night, Yoongi. Just because I do it once or twice a month does not give you an excuse to overwork yourself.”

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear under his breath, turning back to his computer. You got up from the couch, standing behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders. Your fingers dug gently into the tense muscles of his back. Yoongi relaxed, slouching forward slightly at your touch. You brushed your nose against his neck, placing a gentle kiss there. You heard a tired sigh leave his lips, and you knew the argument was over.

End of Flashback

You figured you wouldn’t win this argument so easily.

Yoongi looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to start an impossible conversation.

“Yes, you’re right. You do deserve an explanation. And I did try to give you one in that letter, Yoongi.” He scoffed at the mention of the letter.

“Don’t even go there, Y/N. A letter telling me to let you go. Really? I wasn’t even worth an in-person goodbye? Let alone the fact that you could have just told me where you were going,” Yoongi started pacing, frustration evident in his voice.

You went to the kitchen, filling a glass with water before taking a long gulp. Your throat suddenly felt extremely dry. You knew he was going to be angry with you if he ever saw you again, but you weren’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions–anger, frustration, helplessness–that you were feeling in this moment.

You placed your hands on the counter to steady yourself, and Yoongi stopped pacing, waiting for you to say something.

“If I told you where I was going, I would never have been able to stop seeing you. And if I didn’t stop seeing you, then I couldn’t get a normal life back. There was nothing I could do but try to move on,” you said, exasperated.

Yoongi took two steps closer to the counter that separated the two of you. It felt like a chasm.

“We were together for six months, I lov–I cared about you. I could have protected you,” Yoongi said quietly, voice cracking.

You looked down, staring down at your knuckles gripping the counter so hard they were turning white. Your eyes started to burn with the effort to hold back tears.

“You, better than anyone, know what it’s like to feel like you’re suffocating. Constantly being watched and picked apart and prodded and asked for more. I was on the verge of breaking down. If I didn’t get out when I did, I would have lost myself. I didn’t have a choice. I had to leave. I didn’t…I didn’t want to leave you. But I had to.”

The tears were starting to fall, one by one, down your cheeks. You let them, still staring at your hands. As soon as the words started tumbling out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them.

“The entire time we were together, we were a secret. We were always at one of our apartments or your studio, sneaking in and out in the dark. So, how? How could you have protected me? When the world I needed protecting from didn’t even know about us?”

You wiped angrily at your tears, face burning at your vulnerability. Finally looking at Yoongi, you saw tears brimming his own eyes. He refused to look away.

“I ran because I didn’t know what else to do. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But you couldn’t protect me. I had to protect myself.”

Yoongi quickly blinked a few times, trying to rid himself of the tears threatening to spill. 

“You never even answered your phone. I left you dozens of voicemails. I didn’t know if you were okay. You put me through hell. You could have at least just told me you hated me and that you wanted nothing to do with me,” Yoongi rebutted.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t hate you. If I had tried to say goodbye, to end things in-person, I never would have gone through with it. I would have stayed,” you admitted with a sob. “I would have stayed to be with you.”

“Would that have been so bad?” Yoongi asked, his voice rising slightly. “Would it have really been that bad to be with me?”

“It wasn’t about that! I felt like I was already sacrificing my sanity. What was I going to do? Hide away with you forever? I couldn’t even handle my own life, let alone if I became the public girlfriend of a BTS member.”

Yoongi’s lips fell into a flat line.

“That’s not fair. You can’t blame this on me and my career just because you couldn’t stand your own,” Yoongi’s voice was suddenly calm, but his eyes flashed with anger and hurt. “This was your choice. I would have made it work. I would have tried to figure it out with you and this new life you wanted. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond and defend yourself, but nothing came out. It felt like you had gotten punched in the stomach. You started to breathe heavily, panic quickly engulfing you.

You practically sprinted to the couch past a confused and startled Yoongi, sitting down on the couch and putting your head in your lap, counting backwards from ten and then starting over, again and again, trying to slow your heart rate.

You registered a body next to yours on the couch. A tentative hand reached out, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. He didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for your breathing to return to normal.

You lifted your head slowly, not knowing how long had passed. You didn’t dare look at Yoongi yet.

“When did you start having panic attacks?” he asked gently.

“Over a year ago,” your voice was scratchy from your heavy breathing. Yoongi tensed at the mention of the time spent apart, now seeing one of the repercussions of the stress that you had alluded to while you both were arguing about your mutual history. He didn’t move his hand from where it rested on your back. “I’m really…I really am sorry, Yoongi.”

“I know,” his voice held a level of understanding in it that it didn’t before. He paused, his hand lifting from your back. “I think I should go.”  

You remember what it felt like a year ago to write the letter that would end things with Yoongi for good. It was like your heart was set aflame, burning in pain at your choice to walk away. A year later, Yoongi was the one holding the match.

He stood from the couch, grabbing his hat and his mask. You watched him put on his shoes from your spot on the couch, unmoving.

“I meant it, you know,” Yoongi said, his hand on the doorknob, ready to walk out of your life like you had his. “I would have tried.”

“I know,” you repeated his words, a sad, tight-lipped smile painting your lips. He walked out the door.

---

Once Yoongi left, you raced to your bedroom, pulling open the last drawer of your dresser and throwing the sweatshirts that lined the bottom onto your carpet. There it was, in the back right corner–the phone that you stashed away a year ago, the phone number still active just in case.

You grabbed it, trying the power button hastily, but it didn’t turn on.

“Ugh, come ON!” you yelled to your empty apartment in frustration. You plugged it into the charger on your nightstand, waiting for it to charge.

You picked off your nail polish, your nails bare by the time you tried to turn it on a second time. This time the screen flashed white. You ignored the pit in your stomach, sinking to the floor with the phone grasped tightly in your hand. You sat with your back to your bed, the phone cord stretching to reach you.  

Ignoring the red icons alerting you of the dozens of missed calls and texts, you went straight to voicemail, scrolling rapidly with your thumb until you reached a voicemail from this date last year. 

You pressed play.

Hey, babe, why aren’t you answering your texts? Marianne dropped some paper off for me today, apparently, but I haven’t had a chance to swing by the studio to grab it yet. Call me when you get this, okay?

Your fingers moved on their own to play the next one.

Y/N. You need to answer your phone. This letter I…I’m worried about you. Please, you can’t do this. Don’t leave me. Not like this.

Tears began to stain your cheeks as you listened to Yoongi’s voice go from fearful, to angry, to desperate, all within a span of a few hours, then days, then weeks. With each voicemail, you started to feel worse, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed to keep going.

Just tell me where you are. You don’t have to talk to me, but I need to know that you’re okay.

The last message from his number was from seven months ago.

I get it. You don’t want to see me. Probably ever again. So, I’ll do what you told me to do. I’ll let you go. But just know, Y/N, that I loved you. And I think I might always love you. I hope this new life you have makes you happy. I wish I could have made you happy enough to stay.

You let out a quiet sob as your fingers dialed one of the only numbers you had memorized.

“Hello? Y/N, is that you? Why are you using this number?” Marianne answered on the second ring, immediately alarmed.

“Marianne, can you come over? Something’s happened.”

---

“Y/N? Where are you?” Marianne called into your apartment. She had used her copy of your apartment key to get in the door when you didn’t answer her persistent knocks.

You sniffled in response.

Marianne looked into your bedroom, seeing you curled into yourself on the floor. You hadn’t moved since you listened to Yoongi’s voicemails.

She sat beside you and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close. You couldn’t help but wish it was him here comforting you instead.

You had suppressed your love and feelings for him for so many months. Today, you had to confront them, confront the power Yoongi still had over you.

The pain and hurt splashed across Yoongi’s face was fresh on your mind as you cried into your friend’s arms.

Part 1 // Part 3

---

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[starryyyjoon]

I, you | Kim Namjoon One Shot

word count: 8.2k

pairing: idol!namjoon x fem reader

summary: namjoon meets you again and he can't help but want you to look at him the same way he has all these years.

disclaimer: it's sort of written from y/n pov. kind of smut included, not too much but still. other then that, i don't think there's anything. it was written a long time ago so i don't clearly remember, sorry!

Namjoon walked in, followed by a few staff members and they occupied the empty chairs on the conference table and I smiled at him and the others. He looked great like always, he was in a navy blue hoodie and a khaki colored trouser, with his hair pushed backwards exposing his forehead.

There was something and nothing between me and him and it was too tiring to play pretend. "You look good", he remarked and I smiled at him. He's always being too kind, I looked like absolute shit, I hadn't slept in three days and my clothes were whatever was in my reach that I'd put on after showering and I rushed here.

I had met him before this level of success but I was merely an assistant director myself and we'd talked about Monet and his work together, he'd similar interests to mine but both of us didn't really get anywhere because of our timing and I believed it was for the good. He'd always expressed how he liked my vision and wants to work with me on something and I didn't believe my vision because what even was my vision that he could see and not me and after being this big I didn't really thought he'll even remember me until he hit my phone one day and here I was, at the label's office to discuss the details of his mixtape's music video.

"So, do you've something in mind?", I asked him and he pressed his back on the chair letting out a yawn, he seemed tired.

"Not really! I want it simplistic and not too hard to understand. I haven't thought about it or anything so I don't know, I would await what you propose", he softly said.

"I haven't heard the track because of--", he intervened, "--ah you haven't? You should hear it first", he said and I nodded.

"I would need to hear it", I told him, thinking about the lengthy talks with the illustrator already.

The staff then pin pointed about the budget, the do nots and other details and two of my team members who were seated beside me talked thoroughly in detail about the technicalities. Namjoon looked bored with all the talk that didn't interest him. He wasn't much different from before slightly bigger.

All of us stood up coming to an agreement when Namjoon asked me to walk up to his studio to hear the track and I asked my team members to go ahead first. I walked through the dark corridor behind him while he talked to someone on the phone, all the way to his studio. I didn't really hear what he was talking because I was invested in staring around the place like I hadn't seen a building before.

The walls were all dark and a comforting shade since I didn't like the sun anyway. It seemed like a night mode in real life.

His studio was the corner most, he typed the passcode in and stood aside gesturing for me to walk in, followed by him. He hung up the phone call and put his phone aside, switching the AC on. He sat behind the monitor while he switched it on and I went through my inbox.

"So, how have you been?", his deep tone, made me look up and I fidgeted to put my eyes on something other then him while he turned his chair around to face me.

"I have been okay-ish, like the projects I'm doing I'm satisfied with them so I guess it's kinda okay", I said and regretted it immediately, I don't even talk like this and he knows it.

"Not the work c'mon, you, your boyfriend, family, other things?", a lose smile hung on his lips and I looked at him. How can someone look like that?

"No boyfriend because you know no one can put up with this profession. I haven't slept in three days so I'm fucking annoyed and the work is too much that I don't have time for other things", I shrugged and he chuckled. I didn't want to think about guys, I barely had time for myself. Filmmaking was a time bound profession.

"I relate, trust me I do", he turned his chair back around, his eyes on the computer screen and I looked at him. I could see why he could relate, I mean of course he didn't had time either. I knew idol schedules enough to know how these things go. "Why didn't you come that day?", he asked me and my insides twisted.

"I was hoping you don't bring it up", I said in a small voice.

"Why not? I waited for you", he said without looking at me and I threw my head back on the couch thinking of the time when he'd asked me out officially and I didn't make it. "At least I deserve to know what was more important that you didn't make it", he looked at me and I closed my eyes shut.

"I had a flight, I got an exclusive food show travel experience with discovery and it was too good for an opportunity to miss", I let it out and took a breath in. I knew I could never leave work for a guy, any guy, or anyone as a matter of fact and as much as I'd thought about it on the plane...it all seemed for the better. He wasn't the kind of guy I could've had my regular thing with and I was too young to be serious.

"It was a good show", he told me. I could feel his eyes on me and I didn't flinch. I didn't regret it but his words made me feel guilty. My head was on the headrest of the sofa I sat on and my eyes were closed. My subconscious could feel his curious gaze on me.

"Look away Namjoon", I said and I could feel his gaze was still on me.

"Why didn't you call me when you got back?", he asked me and I looked at him.

"I didn't because our cultures differ, everything is poles apart--what's the point of discussing it now?", I asked him, slightly annoyed. He and I separately needed to focus on our careers and he knew it too damn well.

"Okay", he turned around again as his monitor showed a circle indicating that the programme he'd launched was loading. "It does makes me feel better that my better position in life doesn't changes your opinion on me. Quiet comforting", he said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice but I chose to ignore it. The last thing I'd be doing is fueling this feeling in him by discussing this useless thing which wouldn't make any difference whatsoever.

"Is this the reason you wanted me to do this project with you?", I asked him and he swiftly turned his chair around.

"No, I don't take all this for granted. I love the stuff you do. I'm pretty updated thanks to how active you're on your social media", he smiled and I couldn't shook the thought of seeing my psychotic episodes on my Instagram, Twitter...everywhere. I'm pretty weird out there.

"I love it, the stories", he flased his dimple smile before turning his chair around again and I felt his warmth, like he meant what he said.

For a second I was taken aback with how tall he was from me and how good he looked, he'd always looked good but he was more mature now and much more reserved. "I'll be calling you often because I won't send it for pre-production without your say on the concept", I told him.

"I'll look forward to a lot of calls", he said. "I'm sorry this is taking a while", he added quickly and for some reason I couldn't look away from him, whose back was visible to me.

"No, take your time", I said, crossing my arms against my chest. I really wished he was a regular guy just making music but then I didn't. I wouldn't want someone to wish that for me. He'd earned all of it and I knew it.

"Look away ___", he said slowly. I could feel his grin through his words and I looked away shaking my head right and left softly. "It's, yeah it's playing", he turned around as the music filled in the empty atmosphere.

It was a slow song with a really fast rap. It was how Namjoon was, he contradicted himself too much. I instantly knew it was his writing from the way the words went and the wordplay came into role. I couldn't help but analyze the song because I was supposed to shoot and sketch a music video for it and at times like this I didn't really get to enjoy the art for the art and I hated it.

"How was it?", he asked me, his eyes fixated on me as the music faded. I wanted it to last.

"The only problem with it is that it ends", I flashed a smlie at him and he shook his head throwing it back.

"That's too corny even for you", Namjoon rolled his eyes but I was being serious. "You know I appreciate heavy critics", he said.

"I didn't find anything to criticize, the writing is great, the composition fits and it has a catchy vibe to it. I think I would listen a song like that on a drive or something? In your case a bicycle but yeah! It's a good song", I summarized my opinion. "Do you like want a trendy video?", I asked him.

"Anything that you want to do with it", he said and I gently nodded. Since it was given to me, I couldn't stop thinking about what to do with it.

"Can you stop thinking about it while you're with me ___?", he chuckled and I looked at him taken aback for a second and then nodded with a soft smile pasted on my lips.

"Your fashion sense has improved", I remarked.

"You look casual", he teased me.

"I, I've no fashion sense. I just wear whatever is there", I told him.

"I don't think so, your Instagram says different", he said.

"It's for the show Namjoon", I said.

"You're really not the type to do that, please don't deceive me", he beamed before he turned his chair around again to minimize the current tabs on the computer.

"You're the last person I'd be deceiving--", my words were cut from an incoming call from one of the producers of one of the shows I was working on. "I need to take this", I told him and answered the call while he just gave me a gentle nod in response.

The producer had informed me about the issues related to casting and the final draft of the script and I knew I had to go.

"Guess I'll see you later, bye", Namjoon said warmly as he smiled at me. The thing was he just knew and that always stuck somewhere.

"Bye", I left.

________________

"I, for one, disagree. C'mon how do you even call it an end?", I threw my hands in the air as we discussed it for the millionth time. I liked Su-ho but his thoughts on GOT made me want to kill him. He is the only person I knew who was satisfied with how it ended.

"I think it was okay, c'mon, you have to consider that the novels didn't end and as compared to that I think it was pretty good", Su-ho claimed while he sat on the bean bag in front of me, pushing it comfortably.

"Don't even start with the novels--", my words were interrupted with the sound of the doorbell, "--they didn't even do a good job interpreting it and I am offended by that. Look there novels", I pointed at my bookshelf, showing him my GOT collection which he knew as I opened the door and my head bumped against Namjoon's chest as he took a step in.

He chuckled as he held the back of my head with one hand and pressed my forehead with the other and rubbed it gently to ease the pain.

"What's uh, what's that? Is it iron", I mocked, pointing at his chest while he let me go from his grip and took his shoes off.

"It can be", he said. "But why were you jumping around so enthusiastically?", he asked me as he seated on the couch in front of Su-ho, as he greeted him and Su-ho greeted him back.

"Game of Thrones heavy discussions", I sighed. "This is Su-ho who's illustrating the storyboard", I told Namjoon.

Su-ho was starstruck and it seemed like it'd take him a good minute to recover and Namjoon was obviously used to it. I didn't call him at the office because a lot of people would want to see him then and it could be exhausting plus he'd a time limit on his hands.

"You know him, ___?", Su-ho widened his eyes at me and I nodded, suppressing my laughter seeing his chaotic ass behave like this.

"A little", I said and I could feel Namjoon's gaze on me. "Maybe a lot", I rephrased. I could see by the way Su-ho looked at me that he needed answers. "Coffee?", I asked Namjoon.

"Oh yeah", he replied and I stood up. "I've thought of two concepts, Su-ho please brief him on it and if you want anything differently Namjoon, you can tell him", I told him as I marched towards the kitchen.

Should I use the regular coffee mugs or should I use the better ones? I mean it doesn't matter anyway but still, it kind of does? I don't know. It just comes to me, the over thinking.

Ah.

I could hear him and Su-ho talking about the concepts faintly and I was low-key proud because I did work hard on them. I opened the cabinet to take out the better coffee mugs.

This is what happens when you stop drinking milk and stop growing up. I rested my hands on the kitchen pavement thinking about how many shoes with heels I'd because of my height.

I wasn't very short but I wasn't my desired height too. It was sad. I was the right person to sell the tonics concerning height because my insecurity would make me buy it. I exhaled heavily and turned around to find Namjoon behind me.

"Let me", my hips pressed against the marble pavement while his body gently pressed against my front, I could spot the mole on his neck while he calmly took the box of mugs out. "Okay?", he whispered softly and I looked on without responding.

"Thanks", I told him, hoping he'd get away from me because this had me feeling some type of way. I won't admit what type of way. That makes it worse.

"Anytime", he clicked his lips, taking a few steps back as I stirred the coffee and poured it in three cups. Should've used regular ones.

"I like the quotes on that wall", he said as I handed him his cup, taking the other two. A wall of my house was covered in post-it notes and other stuff. Some print outs of Van Gogh and Frida's works alongside other things.

"Yeah that? Thanks", I said, as I gave the cup to Su-ho. "Did you decide on something?", I asked, as I sat down and Namjoon just beside me.

"Yeah, the first one. It was kind of okay, he made some alterations so I would send it to you by...maximum tomorrow", Su-ho told me. "But why did you call him here for just this?", he asked me.

"You seem so concerned about his whereabouts", I glared Su-ho . "I told him I could just email him but he insisted on doing it in person", I looked at Namjoon who took a long sip from his coffee.

"Yeah I did, don't worry I was absolutely free", Namjoon smiled at Su-ho and I could see Su-ho fanboy-ing.

"You're so in line today", I pressed my words.

"Shut up", Su-ho eyed me. I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug feeling its warmth.

After I talked to Namjoon for a while about the shoot and he explained to me about their company procedure and how they usually did things. I didn't like doing music videos or commercials, there's a lot of time you're bound by what the music video demands and you've to stick with that so that was that. I usually preferred either cinema like movies or dramas, I hadn't done much but I had done a few and travel shows were my preference.

"I'll see you next time then", Su-ho politely remarked looking at Namjoon and he smiled and gently bowed his head. I walked with him up-to the door. "I didn't, what the hell, you could've given me a heads up?", Su-ho whispered slowly to me as I leaned against the door.

"I didn't knew you were a fan", I said and he playfully hit me on my arm.

"I still can't believe it, you've to answer my hot questions next time", he said and I nodded.

"Okay okay", I closed the door shut behind me, taking a seat on the far side of the sofa me and Namjoon were seated on. He was scanning my bookshelf and I was looking at him.

"Literally 70% of it is fiction", he said. I read a lot of fiction and he read a lot of nonfiction.

"You should read fiction", I said and he looked at me slightly pissed.

"I do read fiction just not thar much", he pointed at my bookshelf. "If you've to recommend one, shoot", he said.

"Recommend, uh, the secrets of happiness", I said randomly and his face sunk in annoyance. "It's not a book talking about literal secrets of happiness, it has a story", I told him.

"Ah okay...I will try reading that. Let me take your copy", he said.

"No", I said back in a split second.

"I won't lose it, c'mon, ___", he said. I couldn't believe his testimony on not losing it.

"Fine, but it's annotated. You'll owe me big time if you lose it", I said and he nodded vigorously.

"Your place is great", he said looking around the house and I couldn't see why, I mean yeah maybe but not that I find it great if I think from his point of view.

"I'm barely here anyway. I pay rent for no reason", I kept the empty mug in my hand on the glass table in front of us.

"That was your friend though, Su-ho?", Namjoon asked as he kept his cup, followed by me.

"Oh yeah! I met him for work but then it's been a while since I know him, it's been years actually and he's a friend now", I said thinking about Su-ho. I don't know why I bothered explaining. It's been a good five years since Namjoon and I hadn't been in touch and there was a little catching up to do.

"You've always had a lot of friends, don't you", he sighed as he sat cross legged on the sofa facing me. I do have plenty friends honestly.

"Kind of", I shrugged. His gaze on me made me sit back in a more cautious way as I fixed my posture. "Namjoon...", I called out his name when the doorbell rung and I was irritated. "Give me a second", I stood up and walked up-to the main door.

It was my neighbor who's mother had left their house keys with me and he was here to take it back. He thanked me for keeping it and walked up to his own flat which was in front of mine.

I closed the door shut and Namjoon was standing by the balcony seeing a cactus I had grown since I couldn't grow any other plant because I was never home to take care of them in case.

"It's cute", he said as he picked the potted plant and stared at it for a little while and I stood behind him and watched him see it.

"You know your pupils dilate when you see plants", I said and he smiled to himself. He kept the cactus back in its resting place and stared at me. "What?", I asked him.

"You were going to say something", he said, his voice sounded deeper then usual for a second and I licked my bottom lip in haste.

"Oh that, you know the alterations you made? I will directly mail it to the staff and maybe cc you because it won't need a second check anyway. I've to get this done a little early since I've--", he turned towards me and I took a step back but there was barely any space and my back was pressed against the wall, "--what is it?", I asked but it came out as a whisper.

"Here", he dragged his index finger across my bottom lip and there was something on my lip. I didn't really see what was on there because of his presence so close to me. My heartbeat had fastened and I could feel it. Something I didn't want to feel.

"Thanks, I guess", I said slowly and he flashed his dimple smile at me and in that moment he seemed the opposite of the dominant he was a few seconds ago.

"Do you know you look really good?", he said, as his fingers ran across my ear touching the piercings one by one. I regretted having three all of a sudden. "And I didn't intended to do this but ___ I uh", he bent over a little, his lips a few inches away from my ear and his breath was falling on my neck.

"Namjoon", I said, trying to not look at him. I knew damn well I couldn't be able to control myself.

"Hmm", his voice was so small and I could feel goosebumps all over my neck. His gaze on me was strong and I had jitters in my stomach.

"I, uh--let's not okay", I put my hands on his shoulder as he pulled me more closer with a jolt and I gasped.

"Do you really not want to?", he asked me. It was a while since I was in this close proximity of someone like this but my subconscious kept telling me not to. "I don't understand what you find so undesirable about me", he took a few steps back and looked away.

What?

"Do you think I find you undesirable?", I asked him, pressing my lips suppressing my smile. I couldn't get how could he change roles in a span of few seconds.

"Yeah, it's pretty evident really", he sighed, looking at the the far side of the sky at the horizon and I saw him sulking.

"It's not that, are you fucking dumb? It's just you know you shouldn't start things you can't take care of", I said. For some reason I've always felt a little hesitant with him. "But you're desirable enough", I added.

"Sudden validation from you, ah", he clicked his lips in mockery and I felt bad. The last thing I wanted was to look like I was playing hard to get. I didn't feel competent enough in my heart. "Let me kiss you", he said, taking a few steps closer breaking the chain of my thoughts and I hated being so much in control and feeling a little out of place.

I was back to where I was a few seconds ago, me cornered and he put his lips on mine and my body automatically responded. He took over me in a second. My hands rested on his back and clutched the fabric. His hands travelled below my hips as he pulled me upwards and my legs wrapped around his waist. He didn't stop kissing me for one second and I didn't want him to, as he pressed his mouth harder on mine and I bit back a moan. I could feel the heat in my body and every vein seemed to electrify. He walked me up-to my bedroom like he knew which suddenly felt foreign to me as he laid me on the bed, breaking the kiss and I was breathless, panting for air.

I didn't had any resort in me to stop. I didn't want him to stop. I couldn't care more about whatever that had me concerned for a while. He watched me look at him and his lips curved in a smirk. "Should I stop?", he teased me taking a seat on the edge of the bed and I looked away from him to the right side, scoffing.

I pushed myself up, my hands at the hem of the lose white t-shirt I'd on and for a second I hesitated at the fact that he must've seen better flesh than mine but I pulled it upwards exposing myself in front of him as his eyes went everywhere. "Do you want to stop?", I asked him, as I crawled over to him. He didn't object as I sat on his lap and took his face in my hands. I looked in his eyes. He looked beautiful. I traced the outline of his skull, his jaw as I pushed his hair locks that were on his forehead behind. "Do you want to stop Namjoon?", I asked him again as he held me tight, giving me my answer.

He tugged at my neck with his mouth leaving a trail of gentle kisses down and I could feel my nipples startlingly prominent beneath the black lightweight bra I had on. I clutched his hair as he bit my neck suddenly and I gasped.

He pushed me on to him, nearer but there was barely any space for me to come close and I could feel him all over. He messily kissed me before groping my bottom and I-I cut a breath in. He would take turns and be gentler a second and rough the another. "Namjoon", I called out gasping which fueled him even more. He looked at me and smiled proudly at how he had me without doing much.

He flicked the straps of my bra shoving it down exposing my breasts and I could feel my nipples harden to the point it was painful. I wanted him. I wanted him to touch me, more. The way my body responded to his touch was almost funny, how quick, how wet.

I patiently unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off of him while he looked at me with a gaze I couldn't quite make anything of, he just looked at me while he let me work on him. My hands touched his chest and my eyes examined his torso, his skin was warm and his gaze on me gave me confidence like he wanted me back as much I wanted him.

I was forgetting my own desperation for his touch as my hand traveled behind his back, trailing down to his spine and he looked at me as he cut a sharp breath in and I felt good seeing him giving in to me. His arms surrounded mine unclasping my bra in a second and he threw it off on the floor.

I half expected him to grab me and grope my breast but he swept me in his arms as his vaguely pink mouth pressed against mine and instead of hastily grabbing me, his mouth simply rested against mine and it was worse, much more intoxicating. I, on instinct coiled my arms against his neck.

As my tongue demanded entrance and he smiled before letting me, and in a second, roles were reversed, the romantic was gone. He took control and pressed his mouth harder on me with his thumb and finger pressing my nipple and my nails dug deeper in his neck. "Joon...", I on instinct called out, as I gasped for breath but he didn't let me.

He was hard against me and I grinded next to him which seemed to please him while he left my mouth, burning with a wanting for more while my sex clenched as he took control of my body putting his arms around my back and they were free to go anywhere. I wouldn't dare stop him.

A second later, he laid me on the bed and hovered over me before taking my shorts off in a whirl and pushed my underwear off me that it didn't seem reusable. I anticipated his actions but he pushed a thumb into my bottom without no warning and I clutched the sheets, a yell escaping my mouth. My fingers curled meanwhile his other arm grabbed my breast cupping it and a second later his forefinger and middle finger slipped inside of me and my grip on the sheets tightened.

"Shh", he hissed in my ear and I hadn't realized a moan had escaped my mouth. My whole body rocked in less then a minute and I couldn't control my voice, I gasped for breath and I moaned even louder then before. "I didn't take you for a screamer ___", Namjoon seemed amused while embarrassment washed over me as I laid exposed in front of him.

"Let me go down on you", I told him and he looked taken aback as I pushed myself up.

"Do you really want to?", he asked and I shifted closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I would love to", I told him. "Do you want me to?", I asked him.

"Yeah, I mean yeah", he said when his phone rang echoing in the room and his face flushed into irritation as he looked at me and I nodded gesturing him to take it. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. With every word he spoke, his irritation grew. He hung up the phone call. "Where's the wardrobe?", he asked me and my eyes pointed behind him.

Namjoon opened my wardrobe and took out a very lose t-shirt of his choice from my stack of comfortable clothes. He held my arms and slipped the t-shirt on me, pulling me close. He stroked my face and he smiled in my face which forced me to smile as well.

"Am I suppose to expect something from you or should I forget this?", I asked him as his fingers tucked the few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"You're supposed to expect everything, don't dare forget it", he whispered in my ear, nibbling on it and I couldn't help but giggle. "I want to talk to you but I've to go now and I hate it", he smiled at me.

"Okay, go", I told him and he chuckled before letting me off him and he wore his shirt back on.

After seeing him off and taking a shower, I laid back on the couch in the living room thinking about everything that had happened. I didn't regret it, I wasn't thinking much about it anyway.

The guys I'd sex with or made out with, I disliked them because of their narcissism. I appreciated my ability to find guys that were a-grade assholes. I've always had this feeling that I am lacking in some sense with other people. I look normal, like I should but I get this insecurity when taking my clothes off.

I didn't knew what Namjoon thought about it and asking him would be weird. No one who knows me like him would think I am this insecure or anxious about this stuff but then a major part of it has to do with my aura, I guess?

________________

I took a bite of the sandwich that I held in my hand as I walked around the second set just nearby to the first one. I stood afar, taking a good look, even though the storyboard fits the sights I still need to frame out a rough sketch work in my head.

I took another bite staring at the beach and the path to it and then back to the set that we'd build up by man power. It was pretty accurate in my eyes but I wanted to hear from my assistant director.

I took the walkie talkie out from the pocket of my denim and pressed the centre button, "Jae-chan, where are you?"

In a second he reverted, "Ah sunbae I am near the gripper".

"Come to the road that leads to the beach", I said, before shoving the walkie talkie down in my pocket.

The sea met the sky at the far point of the horizon and how the world is full of these illusions which are not real we know but we still believe. After all there's beauty in things that you don't get. Vastness maybe?

Sea and sky — the two melancholic blues.

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan broke the chain of my thoughts and I glanced at him before looking at the sea. His breath was heavy, I could tell he ran here.

"You could have walked, Chan-ah", I said, smiling. He was really young and passionate about filmmaking but also a little silly. He's cute.

"Ah it's okay. Did you need something?", he asked politely and I shook my head. I liked the input of many people on the same thing, it showed the number of opinions that could centre around one thing that you make in a different context which is then perceived in another.

"Do you think this is accurate in terms of the story board?", I asked him and he seemed lost in thought.

"I would say slightly better because the storyboard is still animation and this is real so I would say better. I'm pretty sure it'll be good sunbae", he told me and I could feel a smile flush on my lips. "You are nervous, aren't you?", he asked me.

"Yeah", I wrinkled my nose, turning around to walk off. I patted Jae Chan's back and he started walking with me.

"You don't have to be, and oh, he's here", he said assuring me and I knew who he meant by he.

My mind automatically went to the day in my apartment. Namjoon had messaged me after but he got busier with his work and I am not a text-er plus I'd a lot of things to do before I left Korea. It was, I didn't knew anything and I didn't want to think about it. I hoped he'd pretend nothing happened, please. But I knew he won't.

I sighed and as I entered the main set, around the vanity and food truck, the manager and Namjoon's staff members greeted me. After that, I mean impractically I wanted earth to open and swallow me. Living is hard anyway.

I'd a flight on the weekend, I'd to pack and I'd to get new boots but I'm just dumb because I'm trying to think of other things. I need a new nail paint, do I? I looked at my nails which were painted black. Maybe grey?

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan shook me and I looked at him. He gestured me to look up front and Namjoon was right there looking like Namjoon.

"Hi", I awkwardly waved at him.

"Hi", he flashed his dimple smile at me. His dimple smile hits me.

"You can get the makeup and hair done, I've a few things to recheck", I excused myself. This is awkward. This is so awkward. I hate it.

Δ

Even though I had that awkwardness lingering around but we were nearing to the end of the shoot which went really good because everyone worked so hard. It was mostly one-takes and the lighting supported the whole setting making it so easier for us to finish.

Moreover, it was a while since I had done a music video so it felt good being back on a set like this. Namjoon looked really good with the styling and although I knew the outfits pre-shoot, he still looked better then I'd imagined him to look which enhanced the whole vibe of the music video. He owned earthly tones.

That's why casting and styling is so important. Very much. Makes a gigantic difference.

"What's wrong with you?", I didn't notice he was standing next to me with a small fan in his hands while we prepped for the last shot.

"What's wrong with me?", I asked him, as I adjusted the frame in the main camera. I didn't want this conversation especially right now, especially here.

"I mean...you knowww?", I could feel his stare while I shifted the camera, something is wrong with this.

"I don't know", I said, without looking at him. I was unintentionally making him mad and nothing else.

"I was really scared that you'd say this and see, I mean, why can't you behave normal when I mention anything about us?", he hissed near me and I looked around. Luckily there was no one in our proximity to hear this conversation.

"I-I, Namjoon", I exclaimed, vaguely pointing at the setting hoping we could do this later and I could explain that I would love us but he needs to understand that I won't even be in Korea as much as he thinks I would be and that's why it won't work out.

"I don't care", he eyed me.

"I do. I care, okay? There's no us to begin with and I know I was stupid enough to ask you what I should expect out of, what would you call it, we made out. That's that", I tried being really slow and I could feel annoyance in his sight.

"Made out! Okay, okay fine. I can't believe I deal with you. You're the one who doesn't text or call or even respond to it and that's bare minimum ___", he pondered and I internally rolled my eyes.

I was leaving on the weekend. I was always leaving. That's it. "I don't have to and I have a life Namjoon. I've been working non stop all this time. I don't expect you to understand", I said, standing up from my seat while I called for the head DOP from the walkie talkie.

"You don't want to be understood ___", Namjoon said, grabbing me from my arm and stopping me. He wasn't wrong. A few eyes snapped and I forced a smile immediately. "I like you, I like you a lot. Deal with it", he walked past me.

Deal with it.

As if.

Very abruptly, the last shot rolled in and it was over. The music video was done in a day. It was originally a two day sketch but we had to narrow it down to one day because of Namjoon's schedule and it was worrisome because it did seem impossible but things went smoothly and it was successfully over.

I told Jae Chan to wrap the filming site, though most of it was done while I was present. I picked my bag from a table to leave, kept right ahead from the vanity. Namjoon had left, I guess. I wasn't sure because after the last shot he was angry. He had his jaw clenched all that time, he barely managed to keep it out on the music video.

He was like this, his anger was pretty evident and that hadn't changed.

I like you. I like you a lot.

I couldn't wrap my head around that thought. Did he like me all this time? It sounded pretty crazy to me. I had never thought about anything with Namjoon. He was a friend I could like but I didn't, I had never expected anything out of my acquaintance with him anyway.

"You ate?", his deep voice made me look at him who stood at the steps of the vanity. He hadn't left yet.

"No", I said. He had changed into his normal clothes, the makeup was gone but he still looked great. His natural complexion was shining as the set lights fell onto his face. It made me surer how Namjoon needed someone who could be there rather then somebody who's never there.

"Come eat something", he said calmly. He looked much composed then before.

"I am not hungry", I stated just when he darted towards me. He held me by my forearm, dragging me into the vanity which was empty except for us. A few dishes were laid out on the table in front of the small couch.

"Eat and leave", he said, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of the mirrors fidgeting with his phone while I quietly sat on the couch. I just wanted it to be over but I'd no appetite so I kept staring at the couple of Italian dishes which were pasta, carbonara I guess, rissoto and also jjangmyeong. "Just eat anything ___", he said, without bothering to look at me.

"I don't really have an appetite", I said, throwing my head back and looking at the ceiling of the vanity.

"What you've is a habit of skipping meals", he eyed me.

I looked at him. "Do you remember everything? Like literally everything?", I asked him as curiosity brimmed in my eyes.

"You don't?", he asked me back. "Well, for me, yeah I do. I did remember every thing but I should probably forget now. I didn't really asked to work with you because I wanted something but I can't say I didn't hope", he locked his phone and kept it on the space in front him. "I mean, we did had something. We did have something a few days ago. You can't exactly call me a friend and I've never seen you as one. The moment you walked in trying to fix the mess on the set since then till now I can't say I didn't hope you'd look at me the same way", he said, bringing all the memories back alive, but it was true, I never looked at him the way he'd wanted me to, hell, I couldn't believe it one bit. "It's true", he said, as if he just read my mind.

It was, it didn't made sense to me. How could he? Why would he? I uh, I think shit's wrong with me because even now I can't seem to focus on someone who confessed their feelings and that someone being Namjoon from all people.

I remember when I was one of the assistant directors under the director for one of the most low-key and low budget project. They didn't had many resources and our firm wasn't doing well either. We always had to come up with hacks, unknown locations for shooting...it was always so hard. We didn't had any respect in the industry.

It was two companies in one boat at the end of bankruptcy and we were so young and such good friends. I knew the rest of the members too but I kind of had a certain vibe with Namjoon. He could get me without having to speak.

I locked at him, his face was fixated on me and I could like him, in fact I did love him not romantically, I just did. I had a lot of love for him. He was caring for the people around him and I loved talking to him. He never once made anyone feel like he was a celebrity back then and a global celebrity now well yeah. He did deserve someone who could be here for him.

He stood up and walked towards me and my eyes followed him. He took a seat next to me and I could see he picked a bowl up but I didn't see which one because I couldn't stop looking at him. Namjoon took a significant amount and extended it to me and I looked at the noodles for a second and then at him. He just nodded and I ate it.

It was good.

"Thanks", I said, wiping the corners of my mouth with my fingers.

"Do you want me to feed you all the way or can you eat your own?", he asked me.

"I will eat", I told him and he gave me the bowl so I could eat on my own. "You ate?", I asked him and he instantly nodded.

"You're going somewhere, aren't you?", he asked me and I felt as if I've just been struck with something.

"Hmm", I said, my mouth almost filled. "And, I...I want to tell you something like adults and clear it. Namjoon you know my work and I am always not here, never. It's useless. Trust me on this, it's not like that but you know you'll need someone beside you and I can't be the one", I told him, calmly, before gulping water down.

"I know that but I'm okay with it. In fact, we would go hand in hand better because I can't take you out on exotic dates as well. This is what you get", he vaguely gestured at the vanity and I chuckled and he warmly smiled at me.

After a second, I spoke much seriously then before, "It will be hard and you know that. It'll be frustrating. You could hate me".

"If you've tired it with someone before, I am not exactly happy knowing this, but you shouldn't compare me with some random dude with a peculiar taste in leather clothing", he rolled his eyes, shifting his back comfortably.

"Hey! Don't be mean just because you see stuff on my Instagram", I scoffed and he maintained his long face.

"No really, what do you take me for? You think you won't have time for me? I won't have time for you", he went on.

"Namjoon", I dragged his name. His tendency to be sarcastic at odd moments is unmatched.

"Don't call my name like that", he stared at my eyes.

"Like what?", I asked him.

"Like you can love me", he said.

"I...you don't have to be like this", I said, keeping the empty bowl on the table.

"Give me a chance then, try it out. I would wait for you I promise", Namjoon took my hand in his and covered it with his warmth.

"Will I be able to...wait?", I looked away from him, thinking about it so hard.

"___ don't think too much. I promise, we'll be fine", he said, his hands travelling to my waist and before he could grab it. I screeched closer to him. I cupped his face and attached my lips to his, while his hands held on my body.

________________

My relationship with Namjoon was better then I imagined it. I tried my best to be there for him and he was surprisingly almost there for me but it wasn't exactly easy.

It was months and months of hardships and Namjoon was more needy then I thought him to be, he needed a lot of assurance. I don't understand the notion that he holds of everyone wanting me so he needs to be extra careful. I still don't get that his insecure ass doesn't trusts his own members, he won't let me meet them at all.

He was really different. He shifted from dominant to romantic in one second. I loved that. I kind of missed it so much.

He held my hand I could feel it by the way his skin felt against mine, he whirled me around and in a second his hand rested on my waist as he urged me to walk next to him. He was in a perfect disguise and I looked at him. I could tell he was smiling beneath his black mask.

"See, this is why I don't trust other guys! How could you let someone do this to you in the midst of the road in a foreign country?", he asked me.

"No stranger would confidently do this to anyone in a foreign country", I playfully hit him on his leg and he stopped, pretending to be gravely hurt. "I can't believe you", I looked at him as I went with his act. I supported him in standing completely. In a second, he intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I missed you", he softly whispered in my ear.

"I missed you too", I whispered back, softly. I pulled him in an empty alley and pulled his mask down. "I need you to do something", I told him, nibbling on his ear and I could feel my skin feel the heat that it yearned for since a couple of months before him going on tour.

"Right now?", he asked surprised.

"Yeah, right now", I said and I could feel him harden against my pelvis.

"You are...so, not right now. Let's go to your hotel room. I'm still famous", he pulled me closer and I chuckled. He turned me around, pulling his mask down, he kissed me hard. His mouth pressed against mine. I held him tightly and he gasped. "I love you", he softly said before pulling his mask up.

"I, you", I held his hand again.

#bts #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic

[binniesthighs]

hi!! i rly liked your first writing it was so cute and you described jisung so well too! can i request a friends to lovers with han? kinda slow burn like they're really good friends but jisung gets jealous of her close friend and reader secretly likes him too but she doesnt wanna ruin the things between them so... one day they get into a fight and they end up making out😳 bc shes like "wtf we're friends" smut is ok but just a make out would be fine too the details r up to u💗

why yes you can! Thank you for requesting hehe you are my first ask ever  ♡ I hope that you like it, here’s some best friend ‘sungie for ya :)   

all yours | reader x jisung |

Paring: self-insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff ‘n a lil bit of smut & angst  

Tags: student!reader, bestfriend!jisung, lab partner!felix (haha), friends to lovers, mutual pining, best friend au, college au, jealousy, slow-ish burn, mentions of exams, some yelling, reader is secretly whipped for jisung (and jisung for the reader), explicit language, marking, that good good makin’ out

Word count: 2.4k

“Hey!”

The little ball of paper that you had crinkled up bounced off Jisung’s arm with a soft pat.

“What happened to studying together? You said that you were gonna quiz me.”

Jisung’s eyes popped up from his phone screen looking a little bewildered. “Sorry, I just...got a little distracted.

“Distracted? Looking at what?”

“Oh, nothing.” He placed his phone down, clicking it off.

“Is “nothing” code for some girl’s Instagram?” You dished him out a teasing smirk. “I think you forget that I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”

Jisung shuffled the papers in front of him pretending like he had something to do. “Psh. I was not.”

“--Does she go to school here?”

“I told you, I said no.” He furrowed his brow trying to look as serious as possible, but that was nearly impossible for someone as naturally adorable as him. “Why are you drilling me? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some work right now?”

“~So are you~” You teasingly sang back to him, giving him a kick under the table just for good measure.

Jisung threw your balled up paper ball back to you. “Let’s just get back to what we were doing so we can leave. I don’t wanna end up like him.”

He nodded over to the end of your table where a student had fallen asleep mid-chapter. His nose twitched and he snorted a little bit. You knew exactly what Jisung meant, you didn’t want to be at the library at 11pm on a Tuesday either; it was your better judgement that told you.

“Can we get food after this?” Jisung asked after approximately five minutes of “working.”

“Sounds good to me.” You quipped, barely allowing your eyes to leave your computer screen. You found that you always had to try you best to let him not distract you. He was really good at that.

You slid a stack of index cards in front of him. “Ask me these? I’m having a hard time getting the Latin names down...if you’re not busy?”

“Nope!” He piped, and shoved his notebook away.

“Okay!” He said with determination and a little bounce. He fixed his oversized hoodie before starting, looking adorably lost in the fabric.

He asked you the first question, but it barely met your ears. There you were, getting distracted by him again.

screw you Han Jisung, you thought to yourself.

☆。*。☆。

“I just don’t understand how you make sense of all that crap, I could never be a science major like you are.”

“--And I could never understand production like you do.”

“And this is why we work.” Jisung grinned with smiling eyes while he opened the library door for you. “I’m starving, I can’t stop thinking about--”

“--Y/n??” A voice called from behind the two of you.

The two of you whipped your heads back to see a loveable looking blonde and freckled boy bounding to catch up with you. It was Felix, your lab partner from zoology. The two of you were nothing more than classroom friends, but his friendly kindness was always something that brightened up your terrible 9 am lab.

“Felix!” You beamed, holding the door so it wouldn’t close on him. “Are you here studying for the exam as well?”

“Oh yeah, I just...my brain couldn’t take it any more,” He sarcastically mimed his head pains, “I just need to get some sleep now.”

“I just don’t get how they expect us to know all of those phyla like its nothing.”

“I know right?’ He chuckled.

Next to you, Jisung silently poked at the elevator button to go down.

“Is it alright if I head down with you guys?”

“Of course!” You motioned him in.

Once the doors had closed, the three of you found a different corner of the small box to plant yourselves in.

“shit-sorry, Felix, I didn’t introduce you, this is Jisung.”

“Hi!” Felix shone, and Jisung gave him a curt nod back.

Felix waved to two of you goodbye, leaving you in the nighttime snow. You noticed that as Felix walked away he had a little bounce to his step; and you couldn’t help but crack a little smile.

“Our usual?” Jisung asked you with a little edge to his voice.

You linked your arm around his, letting out a little shrill sound when the fabric of your two coat sleeves met. “Sounds good to me!” You nuzzled up into him while both of your bodies’ heat intermingled.

The two of you walked on under the streetlights which illuminated the falling flakes in streams of light. You never loosened your grip, as had become your habit lately when the two of you walked around. Jisung never seemed to mind; the two of you had been mistaken for a couple more than enough times thanks to it. When it did happen, it didn’t phase you at all. Being close to Jisung was like second nature to you.

The whole walk over Jisung never uttered a word, which was uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous self.

“Is everything okay?”

He sniffled, “Yeah, I think I just got kinda tired out of nowhere.”

“Ah.” You mouthed, and squeezed his arm a little harder.

After a moment’s silence, he somberly announced, “If you’re in the same class as him, maybe you should study with him.”

“Huh.” You tsked. “Yeah, I mean I never thought about that before...I guess that could do me some good.”

You looked slightly up to him: a product of him being slightly taller than you. His brown eyes remained stoic, and you couldn’t figure out why. You hated it when he wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, but he was also stubborn at letting up.

“But thank you for helping me tonight! You know that I reeealy appreciate it.” You turned your tone as cutesy as you could--Jisung hated it, but you knew that it could bring a smile to his face.

His gaze softened a bit. “Anytime. You’d do the same for me.”

☆。*。☆。

Jisung rested his head on your shoulder on the bus ride home with his phone weakly held in his hand. One more bump in the road and you knew that it would go flying so you carefully took it into your own lap where it would be safe. You wouldn’t dare moving an inch because you had a feeling that he had closed his eyes. Time had slipped past 1am, and you had to keep fighting yawns yourself. The bus driver had been blasting the heat, so it wasn’t hard at all for you to feel cozy.

You glanced down at his open hand in his lap. It looked exactly like he was beckoning for you to scoop it up in your own. You wondered what what happen if you did. What would he think of it? Would he think anything of it? You had held hands before, but every time you had it had been under purely platonic pretenses. If you just grabbed it now, what would the pretenses be then? The two of you cozied up on a bus: that was something that couples did.

You shut your eyes closed tightly and tried your best to banish all the thoughts clouding your head.

Jisung’s hand twitched, looking even more inviting.

screw you Han Jisung.

☆。*。☆。

[7:14pm]

jisung: you want to come over? Changbin is cooking and i don’t wanna eat whatever he’s making alone

[7:31pm]

me: sorry, I’m studying with Felix at the library, I think that we are gonna be here late. It’s all the Latin, I’m drowning in the Latin, Sung.

I’m sorry.

see you Friday once I’m out of this hell?

[7:34pm]

jisung: see you friday.

☆。*。☆。

You pounded on the door to Jisung’s apartment with your phone in hand, the white screen showing you the number that you had worked so hard for.

“Open the door!” You called giddily. “Jisung! I know that you’re in here, we need to celebrate! ~I can treat youuu~”

Just as you were about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing a wet haired Jisung in his grey sweats and tee. His brown strands of hair were scattered around his head while he rubbed at them with a towel.

“Shit! Can’t I shower?” He jested.

It took all your will power not to ogle him more. He looked devastatingly handsome, but you swallowed down how utterly flustered he had made you.

You cleared your throat, “Uh...sorry...” then remembered your phone in your hand. “I got a 96! Can you believe it! I’m even surprised too, when I was taking the test I just got so nervous...”

“All that studying paid off huh?” He cockily rose an eyebrow. “You can go ahead and thank me now, without my help...” He shrugged with a grin.

You invited yourself in and threw your bag down at the door like you usually did.

“Thank youuu” You sung. “Oh! And studying with Felix really paid off too.” You took off your shoes, thinking of how nice it had been to finally study with someone who knew your class topics. Not that Jisung wasn’t helpful, but you and Felix were on the same page. “He knew it all way more than I did, so he was super helpful. I forgot to text him--”

Jisung closed the door behind you with a slam that made you jump. He moved away from you, not meeting your eyes. The air around the two of you suddenly became thick with something that did not feel as excited as you just were.

“...do you wanna maybe watch a movie?” You moved closer. “Or we could get some deliv--”

“--Why even bother coming over here?” Jisung suddenly huffed.

“What?”

Jisung’s words flew out of his mouth sharply, “If he was so helpful? What are you doing here, huh?”

“Jisung, I don’t understand...” Your heartbeat quickened in your chest and you felt anxiety swell there as well. Jisung never spoke to you like this. He never sounded like this.

He growled out a little sound in frustration. “I-I just...can’t believe you--”

“--Me? Jisung, what did I do?” You threw your arms up, genuinely confused.

He ran his fingertips over his temples and let out a deep exhale. “Y/n, don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your temper started to become seething and you felt your ears get hot. “Tell me Jisung. Tell me what I did. And while you’re at it, what has been up with you these past few days? Being short with me, and distant, yeah-I’ve noticed...what are you doing??”

Jisung heaved breaths in and out of his chest, then ran a hand through his hair. He still couldn’t meet your eyes.

For a moment, a flash of panic surged in your head, making your heart ache with an unexpected pain. You truly didn’t know what he had meant, and if you had made a mistake, you knew it could mean loosing him. God, that was the last thing in the world you wanted. It always was.

“If I did something wrong tell me because clearly I don’t know!!” You yelled back at him, straining your throat.

He walked up to you, then grabbed your shoulders with a firm grip. Finally, you saw his eyes, brown and soft, holding a type of pain that you hadn’t seen in him before.

screw you, Han Jisung.

“Jisung, I--”

You were shoved by the shoulders in milliseconds to the door behind you, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of you. You gasped in your surprise, but your mouth was immediately shut by Jisung ramming his lips into yours. His hands needily took your face into his palms with his mouth blazing with hunger for you.

It took you a moment to realize what had just happened and steady yourself after being so startled. His lips were so soft and warm, your brain had a hard time recognizing that he was really doing this. His haste made no indication of stopping so you let yourself do what you had wanted to do for years: you kissed him back with everything that you had.

As soon as you did so, he let out little desperate moans between your lips in response. You let your arms wrap around his back and he fell into them just right. Naturally you took one of your hands to the back of his head and tangled up your fingers in his hair. God, it all felt so good. Jisung snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into him with force, crashing your hips together.

The two of you clumsily made your way to the couch where he threw you down and crawled over top of you just as fast. He moved to your neck then traversed around your skin, sending shivers all through your body. Your hands eagerly found his back where you dug into him, wanting to be impossibly close. To your side, he carefully took your hand in his, weaving all of your fingers together.

Jisung pressed down into you and began to suck at your neck without holding himself back. It was such an intense feeling that couldn’t help but moan out something you didn’t know you could. You felt his mouth turn into a grin on your skin while he continued. It stung a little when he removed his lips, but he gently kissed each mark as if he was soothing it once he was done. He stopped to admire the little array of purple bruises he had made.  

“I want you all to myself.”  Jisung’s voice was hoarse, but still honey-covered in desire.

“What are we doing?” You asked him in breathless disbelief.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He whispered, and appeared to calm his breaths. “I don’t care.”

"You don’t?”

“Why should I?” He cocked his head and used his free hand to caress your face.

“--That this could change things between us?”

“You don’t want it too?” He looked a little confused.

You felt a warmth rush to your cheeks.  “--No! I do, I do...trust me.”

“Then can I kiss you some more?” Jisung grinned down at you as loving as he always had, but this time it meant something slightly different.

“...please.”

He lowered back onto you, connecting your lips once more. Jisung’s tongue languidly smoothed onto yours and you already felt intoxicated by the feeling. You tightened your fingers around his.

I’ve always been yours.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #han smut #han jisung smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop drabble #best friend jisung #college au #friends to lovers #my first ask post hehe #this drabble made me want to make out with han jisung so terribly what a world #requested #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

[mrkcore]

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 - 𝐥.𝐦𝐤

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mark lee x y/n (ft. minor appearances of johnny)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au, aged down mark

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: mark said forever, even in his songs, but you should have known better. based off of olivia rodrigo’s new single, drivers license.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, i’m sorry in advance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): cheating/infidelity, heartbreak  

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: drivers license - olivia rodrigo

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k 

𝐚/𝐧: this was finished at 2 am again, so please excuse me if this is incoherent 😌 also, i changed around the order of some lyrics and deleted some sections to fit the story, so it’s not 100% the same. feedback is always welcomed!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @nakamotocore​, @astroboy-lele, @infnteen (comment here to be added!)

it was always so simple. even though mark was a year older, you guys planned it out. same university, same program, just different years. as simple as that. or so you thought.

i got my driver's license last week 

just like we always talked about 

'cause you were so excited for me 

to finally drive up to your house

but today i drove through the suburbs 

crying 'cause you weren't around 

mark started meeting you less often when he entered college. you didn’t think much of it, people always said the first year of college was the hardest. you just assumed the workload was catching him off-guard and he was too busy.

you didn’t tell him about getting your driver’s license. you wanted to surprise him. and you thought that if he was too busy, you’ll just go and visit him instead. before mark graduated, you guys would always be sneaking out at the crack of dawn in his white volkswagen, driving to the nearest mcdonalds, ordering whatever you craved. no cares or worries in the world. 

“hey, when are you going to get your license anyways?” mark asked you one night. “i’m always the one driving, am i your personal chauffeur or something?”

“hmm, what if you are?” you tease him. mark shoots daggers at you. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding! maybe next year, when i turn 18.”

“i’m excited.” he leaned back into his seat. “you’d be able to visit me whenever.”

“i’d annoy you.” you snort. he chuckles and playfully hits you.

“you know you’d never.” he looks at you, like he really meant it.

but he didn’t. because now, tears flow down your face as you drive home in your car from mark’s university.

and i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one 

and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone 

guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 

'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street 

mark was always super passionate about songwriting. and when you guys were introduced to each other in guitar club of your freshman year, he finally found a companion to confide his interest in. when you guys snuck out, he would always bring his computer, speakers, and guitar. he’d play you the demos and songs that he had made and would want your opinions on them.

“how does it sound?” he asked you, pressing pause on his computer. it was the last day before the summer of freshman year for you, and he said he wanted to show you ‘something special’.

“yeah it’s pretty good, i think you could do a more complex guitar riff though? it would sound sick if you used E minor and riffed off onto the E major.” you suggested and turned to face mark’s smiling face. “what are you staring at?” you poked him.

“i wrote this about you, you dummy.” he flicked your forehead. “could you not tell?”

“ow, no?” you rubbed to soothe where he flicked you. “its too cheesy, and ‘that sun shining on me, my heart alive and breathing i want only one with you, all the things you make me do for you’? nah, mark lee has a little crush on someone.” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“yeah,” you whipped your head around. “you.” your brain stopped and all you feel is your heartbeat racing. you had never been romantically interested in mark, only friends. but that day changed it all.

“ayo, stop playing the innocent freshman girl.” you huff out. “i have a weak heart.” he taps your chin and turns your face back around.

“dude, i’m not playing.” he gazes into your eyes. “i’m serious, no joke.” your heart starts beating faster, the butterflies in your stomach are wild and your breaths are accentuated by the silence in the car. 

and that’s when he leans in. pressing his soft, watermelon chapstick flavoured lips onto yours. 

you close your eyes and you feel like you’re dreaming. 

“did that prove it?” he says when he pulls away, grinning at you.

“you’re pretty bold making a move on a freshman, bro.” you roll your eyes but your insides feel warm and fuzzy. “and you stole my first kiss!” you exclaim as you push him lightly and he puffs out in disbelief.

“what else do i gotta do to prove to you that i’m for real?” he says, crossing his arms.

“pinky promise me,” you say. “that you won’t leave and you’ll love me forever.” reaching out your pinky. mark laughs, his pinky intertwined with yours.

“now who’s the one who’s cheesy?” he teases. laughing as you angrily attempt to hit him. “i’m joking, i promise, forever.”

you should have known better, promises were made to be broken. but the sticky sweet watermelon flavour stuck on your lips blind you.

and all my friends are tired 

of hearing how much i miss you, but i kinda feel sorry for them 

'cause they'll never know you the way that i do 

yeah, today i drove through the suburbs 

and pictured i was driving home to you 

you know your friends are tired of you rambling about mark. even though they’ve endured it for 3 years already, they don’t see why you’re still talking about him even when he’s gone. you don’t really blame them though. you ditch them to hang out with mark all the time, it was like he was the higher priority than they were, but you were just realizing.

but could they blame you? mark was the definition of dreamy. anyone in your position would understand and agree. all of the fun, secrets, journeys, songs you shared, you felt like nobody knew him like you did. you felt like you were on cloud 9. 

but now is too late, as you realized after mark left that there was no one else that you would, could drive and feel at home with. you feel empty.

and you're probably with that blonde girl 

who always made me doubt 

she's so much older than me 

she's everything i'm insecure about 

yeah, today i drove through the suburbs 

'cause how could i ever love someone else? 

you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb. 

mark told you the address and room of where he was living before he left. when you arrived, you met johnny, mark’s roommate. he said mark was at the production studio probably and he could walk you to where it was.

when you arrived, you saw the back of mark’s head and the back of the sweater you gave him before he left. and right beside him, a blonde girl. sitting comfortably with her head rested on his shoulder. you stood there shocked. forgetting that johnny was standing beside you, he notices the change in your mood and asks if you were okay.

“oh, yeah i’m fine. i was just checking up on him, his mom wanted me to, haha.” you tried to laugh it off. “he needs to call them back to reassure them he’s not dead yet.” johnny’s laugh echos in your ears as you reassure yourself that they’re just friends. nothing’s going on between them, mark is just a super nice person.

“that’s kim aera by the way. the TA for mark’s producing class. i think she’s in her third year? anyways, mark really enjoys working with her. it’s like he lives in the studio, he’s always asking her for suggestions and other stuff.” johnny explains. you tense up, you were the only person that mark had wanted to ask suggestions from. pause, you were. not anymore. but it makes sense, she’s the TA, she obviously had more knowledge and experience in the studio. and she’s more, accessible… “what’s the deal between you two though? mark never mentions anything to me, what’s your name?” johnny snaps you out of your daze. 

“oh, uh, i’m y/n, mark’s family friend.” you try to cover up the nervousness and cracking in your voice. “yeah. our parents are close, so her mom can count on me to report on him. haha.” you laugh lightly. “i’m going to get going now, mark is obviously intact, so that’s good. i’ll catch you around.”

“oh cool. see you.” johnny waves, and you walk out the door.

you try to convince yourself that there’s nothing going on between mark and this aera, but reassurance won’t make the truth disappear. 

you come back a few weeks later. you thought that after finals, he might be more free, and you guys could finally hang out for once. you thought that after hanging out again, everything would go back to normal. he’d go back to texting you, showing you new songs, and maybe hanging out more often as well.

“oh hey y/n, you’re back?” johnny answers the door once again. “he’s at the studio right now, do you need me to walk you there?”

“i think i’m good, i remember where it is. sorry for disrupting you. bye.” you smiled, and after johnny waves back and closes the door, you walk towards the studio.

you think of many different scenarios of how this will play out, but this isn’t what you expected. 

you walk into the studio, about to call mark’s name, but you see the blonde locks again. 

“thanks for helping me out with the lyrics, you’re really good with words.” mark says, smiling. “i think you’re a great role model.” 

you feel a little jab at your side. lyricism was never your strong suit. you could write beautiful melodies and harmonies, but the words never seem to come out.

your heart stops. right when their lips lock. with the way her arms are pulling mark in by his nape, you can tell that she’s more experienced. you felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. you stood there frozen, heart aching and numb. you bolt out the door, you feel suffocated. you really were naive. if this is what heartbreak feels like, you don’t think that falling in love is worth it anymore.

you don’t look back. that’s the last time you ever see mark again. 

apparently johnny asked mark about you.

“hey mark,” johnny calls out. “how was your meeting with your family friend y/n yesterday?” 

mark stops dead in his tracks and his heart sinks. you came to see him? how come he didn’t see you? how did johnny know your name? and, why were you his family friend?

“oh uh, yeah it went well, thanks for telling me anyways.” mark escapes to his room.

mk.l

hey

did you come to see me?

you

no

why?

mk.l

oh, nevermind then.

johnny probably got the name wrong.

red lights, stop signs 

i still see your face in the white cars, front yards 

can't drive past the places we used to go to 

'cause i still fucking love you, babe 

sidewalks we crossed i still hear your voice in the traffic

we're laughing over all the noise 

god, i'm so blue, know we're through 

but i still fucking love you, babe 

the world was quieter and stopped spinning. that feeling of being on top of the world all the time stopped too. you stopped going on your phone, you stopped socializing with people in general to be honest. you didn’t know how to face anyone. everywhere you went, everything you did, reminded you of mark. mark’s laugh, mark’s random nose scrunches, mark’s favourite songs, mark’s guitar, mark’s self-written melodies. you can’t go to mcdonalds, you can’t watch the sunset inside your car at the parking lot behind your local church, you couldn’t even pick up your guitar anymore. your melodies and harmonies didn’t come as smoothly anymore. you felt sick, you didn’t want to do music. it’s just not the same anymore. you didn’t feel like you had a purpose. 

but you slowly got back up. music became your way of coping. listening to other people’s songs about heartbreak, you felt like you weren’t alone. your first heartbreak, no one there to teach you about it, and no one there to comfort you. so you did it yourself. you had no musical purpose, but now, your music was for you, your own personal expression. all the harmonies, melodies, colours, came back to you. and unexpectedly out of the blue, the words came to you too. 

i know we weren't perfect, but i've never felt this way for no one 

and i just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that i'm gone 

'cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 

'cause you said forever, now i drive alone past your street 

yeah, you said forever, now i drive alone past your street

the backing instrumentals fade out and the emotion in your voice trickles into the darkness of mark’s room as he closes his laptop. 

you found your words. he thinks, smiling sadly. finally.

©mrkcore, 2021.

#mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark oneshots #mark lee fanfic #mark imagines #nct #nct dream #nct writing #nct oneshots #nct scenarios

[intergalactic-padawan]

hi! can you maybe do a cute/fluffy story of ezra surprises y/n on a date (and maybe a kiss)? I would love to see this!

Stressed out

Requested: yes!

Warnings: does being tired from work count?

A/N: ah, the random knowledge you find on the wookiepedia rabbitholes... I may have a very good understanding of cake in the galaxy ffa now. This was so nice to write, kinda different from what I usually do but I guess you'll be the judges of the final product hahaha

Pronouns of reader: she/her

.

x

.

To say that your morning had been disapointing was a serious understatement.

A few months ago, when rebel command offered you a position as an intelligenge analyst, you felt honoured at the opportunity to make a bigger difference and help even more with your big ideas.

Today, however, was just another frustrating attempt at getting to see some action, even after you gathered all the intel and designed the entire course of action. They always insisted on giving the mission to someone else.

-"nothing?" - Ezra asks as you step into the hall of the rebel base on Yavin IV, where you'd taken that frustration out on some innocent pillows from your bed moments before.

-"I'm seriously starting to loose hope, Ezra"

-"What did they say this time?"

-"The usual 'Thank you for the suggstion. We'll take it under advisement'."

-"That's an improvment! Last time they said 'no, and that's final'"

-"If you ask me, i think they're just trying to find different ways to let me down easily"

-"Well...at least you tried?" - he takes your hand trying to comfort you, and you sigh as he leads you two outside for some fresh air.

-"It feels like 'trying' is all i've been doing lately. What is it that Kanan said once? Do or do not-"

-"there is no try" - he finishes with a smile - "it was actually Master Yoda who said it first, i think?"

-"The point is, if even Jedi wisdom says I should be doing more than trying, there's got to be something i can do to get my hands dirty for once"

-"Jedi wisdom would also tell you to be patient, young one" - he puts on a serious face only to break out a grin afterwards, and you laugh at his efforts to try and cheer you up.

-"we're the same age, Ezra" - you say through giggles

-"Thank the Force. Or else I wouldn't be able to do this" - he spins you and brings your face closer, planting a kiss on your lips you're more than happy to reciprocate. For a moment, you let your worries escape as his company makes it a bit easier to relax.

It doesn't last long though, as you hear a robotic voice call from behind you:

-"Excuse me, commander bridger" - the droid you recognize as AP-5 looks like he would give you an eyeroll if he could - "but captain Syndulla requests your presence immediately at hangar 4. So if you are quite done with your lip-sucking we should leave at once."

You can't help but snort at what he computed a kiss as. 'Lip-sucking is one way to describe it, I guess'

-"Sorry, I have to go now"- Ezra doesn't know weither to laugh as well or scold the droid for interrupting like that - "but I'll see you at 8?"

-"what happens at 8?"

-"we go on a date. You need to relax a little, do something fun!"

You don't get a chance to reply, as he's being dragged away in a hurry by AP-5. Normally you'd object, saying you had too much work, but now it didn't seem like a bad idea; it's not like you had a mission to go to, anyway.

.

x

.

-"I'm not sure we're authorized to be here right now" - you whisper, but he hushes you while opening the double doors and turning on the light.

Baking.

This was his idea of a fun time.

But, if his intention was to take your mind off of work, he was certainly on the right path: you would be too worried with not getting caught by anyone at that hour (the kitchen was supposed to be closed, you see) and not burning anything you made to a crisp to even think about anything else.

-"c'mon, let's put our baking skills to the test!" - he starts going through the drawers until the supplies are finally found.

-"Ezra, you can't put to the test what you don't have"

-"Hey, speak for yourself! Chef Bridger is always ready to prepare you a delicious meal."

-"and what will chef bridger be making today, huh?"- you try, but can't stop the smile growing on your face

-"let's see, uhhh" - he skims throuhg a book until his eye lands on the dessert section -"how about... some hotcakes?"

-"hmm, lemme see" - you read rhrough the instructions when he hands you the book -"oh, so it's like a pancake. Sounds easy enough."

-"A panna cake? Those are next page, i think."

-"No, not those. Pancakes." - you smile and put the book on the counter, starting to set the ingredients aside - "it's a famous food where i come from. Though panna cakes are quite similar."

-"Huh, can't say i ever tried it. Now you'll have to make some for me" - he shoots you a sly grin and recieves paper towels on the face in return.

-"Aha, no way, mister. You're helping me" - you turn around, gesturing for him to help you with the apron.

-"Alright, since you insist," - he fumbles with it for a while, but gives you a quick smooch once he's done -"I'll stay here with you. But only if I get mine with zoochberries"

-"as you wish, sir"

-"and please, don't call me mister or sir." - he chuckes and shoves a tall chef hat, posing ridiculously for you to snort.

- "The name's Bridger. Chef Bridger"

#Chef bridger is my new favourite thing #AP-5 is learning the art of interrupting kisses from C3-PO #he walked so that threepio COULD RUN #this may be some of my best dialogue yet #panna cakes are actually a thing?? They were served at dex's diner #So are zoochberries #I did extensive research at wookiepedia #god i love star wars #ezra bridger x oc #ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x y/n #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger #ezra bridger x reader imagine

[falling-pages]

Coffee Break: Hawks x Reader

Hi lovelies, I’m back with considerably better mental health. I’m still taking writing a bit at a time, slowly, taking my time editing and researching to improve, but I’m finally able to produce content I love again. I’m finally recovering all the joy of writing and now I’m focusing on writing what makes me happy. Thank you for all the sweet messages and support, it means the world to me :)

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Quirkless Reader x Hero Hawks

Fluff

Warnings: None

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“Americano with almond milk for you, chai latte for me.”

You had been so focused on your report that you didn’t even notice the window opening and your winged boyfriend climbing through until he slid your favorite drink in front of you. The smell was heavenly, steaming through the paper cup bearing your local shop’s logo. Your fingers still against the keyboard as you reach for it, stretching out your cramped digits. After typing for hours, any sort of movement sent discomfort rattling up your hands.

“Thanks, Kei,” you say as he hovers behind you, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

He bent to wrap his arms and wings around you, clutching you close in your chair as you cradled your coffee to your chest. The little cocoon he had suddenly made enveloped you in warmth, cutting off your view of the computer with his beautiful red plumage. All you could see, sense, and smell was him.

He ran his lips up to your temple, the shell of your ear, the spot beneath your earlobe, giving little pecks of affection while he had you under his wings. What good were those wings, anyways, if he couldn’t use them to comfort you?

“Are you nearly done, dove?” he asked, snuggling his face into your hair. “You’ve been at this for hours. Honestly I didn’t know if you were human or one of those robots the captcha quizzes ask about.”

You chuckle, leaning back against his chest. The coffee is still extremely hot, and though your tired brain begs for it, you hold off until it cools down. Keigo gets fussy when you slurp your coffee too quickly and burn yourself. “I still have miles to go before I sleep.”

“Isn’t that some poem?” he asks. “Some American poet?”

“Robert Frost.” You twist your neck to look at him. “You remembered? You’re no poet.”

“But you are. And you quote a lot of them depending on the day.”

“Because they are applicable to my situation.” You turn back and move his feathers away from your computer, making a landing space for your still piping hot drink beside it. The bright white screen welcomes you back harshly, black lines of text still existing. When his red curtain shields you from it, you have a habit of forgetting it exists. Maybe that’s the point--making you forget your worries with kisses and gifts.

You try to lean forward to type again, but his arms hold you back. “Kei, thank you for the coffee, but I have to keep reading this report.”

“You’ve read it three times already tonight!” he whines. “The thing is 50 pages. I don’t know how your eyes haven’t fallen out of your head.”

He sends a feather to lightly touch the coozie around your coffee. Both he and the feather flinch at the contact. “At least wait until your coffee cools down,” he says. “Please? For me?”

Though the man is part bird, he can pull a very convincing puppy face. It’s true, you have gotten to the point where the lines have blurred into one massive pile of digital ink. And his plush wings and warm breath on your neck are oh so inviting.

“How did you know I’ve read it three times?” you ask softly, feeling your eyes begin to close.

“Hawks are very observant creatures,” he says. “They know when their lovebirds are tired.”

You sigh, allowing yourself to give up the ghost and slump against his collarbone. As much as you wanted to keep making revisions to the report, you knew you would force yourself into another all-nighter if you didn’t stop now. You had pulled three already this week, and Keigo had grown frustrated of going to bed alone. If you stayed up again, he would likely take matters into his own hands.

Breaks increase productivity, right?

“Okay,” you relent. “But only until my coffee cools.”

He chirps happily, sending a feather to close your laptop while he scoops you into his arms. The chirps were something you had to get used to, but once he cooed in your ear in his sleep, you couldn’t help but fall in love. He had tried so hard to hide his avain traits in the beginning of your relationship, still wary of all that the Commission had instilled in him, but with you he was free to be the man-bird hybrid his spirit longed to be--chirps, feathers, and nesting included.

You snatch your cup right before he picks you up. He brings you to the couch, where he lies down on his back and settles you against his chest, making you leave your drink on the coffee table. As you lie against him, head against his heart while his lips graze the top of your crown, his wings flutter over you and wrap in to swaddle the two of you together. Abdomen warmed by his body heat, legs tangled up in his, the throaty coos in your ear, his heartbeat slowly lulling you into peace...you knew what he was trying to do.

“I can’t sleep yet, Birdie,” you whisper, drawing a pattern with your finger on his other pec. “As much as I’d like to, this is just a little break. I can come to bed tonight if I get all my reading done.”

“You work so much,” he sighed. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the top of your head. “I think you need to relax a bit.”

“Cuddling you is relaxing,” you say, and though your voice hitched as if to continue, you left the sentence there. He already knew how hard you, being quirkless, had to work to make anything of yourself. It was hard enough to get a minimum wage job without some sort of quirk, much less get into law school, where rich prep kids with genetically-perfect powers took all the top ranks. You might have graduated top of your commoner class, but even your best strategies and most cut-throat arguments couldn’t hold a candle to those born with sharp tongues and persuasive tones. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that you could represent other quirkless clients--and, in that, maybe fight the discrimination you had grown up with.

“Lovebird.”

You turn to him, yanked out of your insecurities when you hear his soft voice utter a pet name only for you. Others might be dominating your class, but none of them were dating a certain winged hero.

“I don’t know how to make you see yourself the way I see you,” he said simply, reaching a hand through your hair. “I wish you could. God, I wish you could see how perfect you are, why I adore you so much. Why it hurts to see you pushing yourself beyond your healthy limit.”

A chord struck you. You knew your hectic lifestyle wasn’t the healthiest, but it never occurred to you that it hurt him. But, looking back, you should have known all the neglected attention and lonely nights, despite being just a room away, would affect him deeply.

He had deep abandonment issues, and he was likely reliving all of that now.

Keigo took a deep breath, running his fingers down your arm. “I don’t want to be a distraction to you. I know I can be clingy, and I’ve been trying to get better, but your schooling comes first. I don’t want to take that away from you just because I’m needy.”

“Kei,” you sigh, shifting under his wings. You turned onto your stomach, forearms on either side of his face, chest pressed against chest. He lazily wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting his wings slightly so you could move. His eyes slowly scanned your face. “You don’t have to apologize. You never bother me.”

He smiled, tucking your closer beneath his wings. “Really?”

Despite his usual sass and arrogant tone in hero work, his voice is sincere, his eyes shining. The predator in him relaxes into a more docile state.

“Really.” You smooth back his hair. “Thank you for taking care of me. Now, I believe my coffee has cooled.”

You push back the curtain of plumage and reach for your drink, rolling off of him to sit by his side. As soon as you raise the cup to your lips and take that blessed first sip, you know something is wrong.

“You got me decaf.”

Your voice is hard, scaling wildly back from the soft words you had uttered against his chest. He giggles, covering his mouth with his hands, but it doesn’t hide the red mirth coloring his skin. 

“How could you!” You whine, bouncing up and away from him. 

“You need to sleep!” he says. “You have been up all night the last few days, and I need you to sleep.”

You sniffle, blinking quickly to produce fake tears. “You traitor.”

Keigo rises to hug you, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he whispers. As repulsed as you are, his hugs are too nice to refuse. “I’m only trying to take care of you.”

“I know. But next time--”

“Hmm?”

“You’re buying me regular.”

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