#it was just my pencil case and all the pens looking like it burst out of it

[notetaeker]

October 25, 2022 - Tuesday | Fall challenges 14/30 + 10/30

Only one class today! I sketched some grapes yesterday and spent a big chunk of today painting them I was so excited abt it I rlly got up at 7 AM to start on it. Today I also: showered, listened to lectures, wrote review sheets for two classes, and compiled an exam. A solid 9/10 day: MUCH better than yesterday. Alhamdullillah 💓

When did you make the blog, what were its goals and did you achieve them? I made it in 2016! I was a sophomore in college and was posting a lot of studying pics on my insta and a friend was like I love ur posts u should start a studyblr! And i was like !!! Yeah !! b/c i was alr on tumblr posting kpop gifs since like. 2012 🤡 I made the blog to document my studying and it has been a diary of sorts. I never felt any pressure to get likes n rbs on here because I was doing it more to keep record, so it was stress-free and less chaotic than my other 300 blogs. And more stable! My other blogs I always delete and remake and change the url and go on hiatus but this one has always been there with the same url lol honestly it has helped me thru a lot of times when I hit a wall and it was soooo hard to study / get things done. I’ve always used it mainly as a tool for me to keep myself accountable whenever I need a push. Only recently after doing a few productivity challenges have I started actually posting here regularly =]

#fun fact the pens photo was inspired by one of my early posts from 2016 :’) #Lmaoo #it was just my pencil case and all the pens looking like it burst out of it #i got so nostalgic n sappy thinking abt the history of this blog and how long I had it #thank u for asking abt pens I didn’t know I had a need to ! explain them all ! deep inside me #studyingunderthefallingleaves #tranquilfallbuddies #studyblr #notes #studyspo

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze. 

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

#earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #moralesanhour #requests

[paleprincessturtle]

Ruined Plan

I'm back again! Happy reading and please excuse any inaccuracies in my writing.

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Female Reader 

Donna stared at her screen in disbelief and gasped. She closed her eyes and looked at the screen one more time and looked behind her, at her boss’ office. She printed the document on her computer and invited herself into Harvey’s office. She waited in front of Harvey’s desk while he was on the phone. Not long after Harvey hung up the phone and he raised his eyebrows at Donna. “Are you going to say something or are you just gonna stand there looking like fish out of water?” Harvey said as he jolted down something on a document in front of him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Donna asked him in disbelief. “Tell you that I’m the best closer this town has ever seen? I think the world knows, Donna.” Harvey smirked and looked back down at the document. “If it’s a guessing game, we have to pen it down for another day. As you know, this case has been going on for far too long.” Donna didn't say a thing but instead slid the document she printed just minutes ago. Harvey peeked at the document and asked “Why are you looking through my bank statement?”

Donna rolled her eyes so hard, for a second she was scared it won’t get back. “To make your usual monthly financial report, Harvey. What else?” Harvey waved the page absentmindedly in the air. “And what am I supposed to do with this?” Donna leaned on his desk and pointed to a specific date. “Cartier? That much? On a lunch break?” Donna asked as she straightened herself. “You’re proposing,” Donna said matter of factly. Harvey grinned so wide that it scared Donna. “The thought was just so sudden and I thought why not.” Harvey shrugged. “And why didn’t you ask for my help to pick out the perfect ring?” Donna paced in front of his desk, looking like the world was about to collapse. Again, Harvey just shrugged. “The ring must be here. Show me the ring.” Harvey squinted his eyes at her. “Harvey, I swear to God if you choose not to show me the ring, I’ll turn your office upside down and nothing will stop me.” Harvey put his hands up in defense and retrieved a key inside a little compartment underneath one of his basketball cases and opened a middle drawer in his desk. He carefully took the box and handed it to Donna. With the same care, Donna took the box in her hand. “Let’s see if we can return this ring if it turns out to lo…” Donna said seriously and stopped herself once she opened the box fully. “Well?” Harvey stood up with his hands in his pockets and smirked.

Donna nodded and grinned “Wow, you’ve outdone yourself. This looks beautiful, simple yet elegant. And jeez, Harvey. Are you trying to blind anyone who looks her way?” Harvey’s smirks grew significantly bigger. “Kinda need to show everyone she’s off the market.” He said proudly and Donna burst into a huge fit of laughter at the prospect of seeing Harvey finally getting married and most importantly, happy. “I know this case is important and you’re swamped. But let’s take 30 minutes to plan the actual proposal. This is a very important matter, Harvey." Donna sat at the chair in front of Harvey’s desk and moved his laptop to face her. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of his own phone startled Harvey. He doesn’t remember when was the last time he looked up from piles upon piles of documents on his desk. He cracked his neck before he moved the documents around to find his phone. Harvey instantly smiled. “If it isn’t the most gorgeous girlfriend a man could ever ask for.” Harvey leaned back in her leather chair as he was immersed in the sound of laughter from the other side of the line. “Flattery won’t bring you anywhere, Mr. Specter.” Harvey smiled “But I’m known for my flattery and charm.” Harvey paused, “Is everything okay?” he suddenly worried as to why she called and it was not even 10 am. “All is well, Commander. Just asking if you could pencil me down for a lunch picnic today?” His heart heaved suddenly, Heaven knows how much he wanted to go and how hard it is to say no to her. But at least she wasn't here to show him the pout. “Oh baby, as much as I love the idea, I’m seriously swamped.” Harvey heard a big sigh and the sound of the fridge door closed. “Still?” he heard her pout. Damn it, Harvey thought. He thought not being with her and not seeing the pout will help. But now, he heard her pout. Great. “Unfortunately, still. I’ll make it up to you. Okay?” Harvey tried to reason with her as he thought of the getaway Donna and him planned earlier and smiled. “No worries, baby. Good luck with your case, okay? Don’t forget to ask Donna to bring you something for lunch. Don’t forget to eat lunch or I’ll send the SWAT team down there to shove a hotdog down your throat.” Harvey laughed heartily at her threat. “I won’t. Gotta go, the DA office called. I love you.” Harvey heard a cheerful I love you as he hung up.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Donna entered Harvey’s office exactly at 1.30 pm. “Your 1.30 appointment is here.” Harvey looked up, bewildered. “What appointment? I told you to clear up my schedule today. I’m busy.” Before Harvey saw her, he already smelled the mixture of vanilla and rose. “Even for me?” she said sweetly as Donna left the room and closed the door behind her. Harvey stood up immediately and walked up to her. “You’re too busy now for me, Mr. Naming Partner?” she smirked as Harvey enveloped her in his embrace. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long. I called Donna and she told me you refused lunch. So I took matters into my own hands and made you lasagna. I’ll only drop this.” she gestured to a lunch bag that he realized just now. “I thought you'd send a SWAT team? You’re damn pretty for I thought would be 10 bulky men.” Harvey said as he gently squeezed her ass and smirked before delicately pecking her lips. “Harvey!” she slapped her hand across his chest. “No fraternizing in the office!” she scolded, face all serious. “You won’t work here until at least another month. You’re here as my girlfriend. And maybe we could make use of the copy room? Or hmm, the file room?” She laughed though he earned another slap across his chest. “I thought you were busy? Come on, eat your lunch.” She separated herself from Harvey’s arms and he involuntarily frowned at the absence of her in his arms. She opened the lunch bag and laid down the food containers on another side of his larger desk for him to eat. “Come, Harvey. You should eat.” she frowned and she called for Harvey. He sat down and now he felt hungry. Between the sight and the smell of this lasagna, he realized that he has been working on an empty stomach. “That ain’t so hard, right?” Harvey nodded, mouth full of food. “Are these the files you've been going through since last night?” she gestured to the ones on the table and a few boxes near his desk. Again, Harvey nodded. “Won’t you eat with me?” He opened the lunch bag to find another lasagna for her. “Meh, I’ve had lunch at home. Thought I will just drop your lunch,” she said as she squatted beside one of the boxes. “I’ll take half of these files. You finished your lunch first.” She took a few boxes with her and brought them to his sofa. “Babe, you don’t have to. You’re not even working here yet, the merger isn’t yet effective. Go out and have a spa day or something. Thank you, but I have it handled.” Harvey said after he gulped a big amount of water. “I won’t have it, Harvey. I’m free to help and I won’t go. Well unless you call the SWAT team." They smirked at each other as she flopped down the sofa and started with the box on the very top. Harvey stared at her as he chowed down the last bit of his lunch. How come he scored such a beauty? She leaned her back, documents opened in front of her, as she pouted while fully concentrating on the task at hand. She folded both legs, hitched her summer dress, and revealed her smooth thighs. What a pretty sight, he thought to himself. Since 3 days ago Mike got sick, this is the first day he felt happy by the news. He looked down at his lunch and something occurred to him so suddenly. He just realized how devoted she is to him. Her bringing him lunch now wasn’t the first time. She’s taking good care of him. They had been together for a tad more than a year now since she was working with her previous firm, been living together for over 7 months now Even when she was busy working, he always got home to dinner. Sometimes even home-cooked lunches brought by herself to his office. The warm baths she always knew he needed without him saying anything. How she knew what to pour him. White, red, whiskey, or bourbon. How all his friends love her. Adore her even. That never really happened with his previous partners.

He had to make her his now. Scratch that, he needed to make her his now. He moved carefully to his desk, as carefully as he could without disturbing her. He took the key and opened the drawer. He checked the box and sighed in relief as he saw the ring still in place.  He sat up straight and fixed his tie before walking up to her. She didn't even bother to look up, thought he must've needed something from one of the boxes she took. It then caught her attention when she saw him standing on one knee. “Harvey?” she looked at him quizzically. He pulled out the red box from his suit jacket and she gasped. She put her legs down, both hands covered her mouth as he opened the box. Exposing the ring. “This is not how I, actually me and Donna, planned it. We were supposed to be in Boboli Garden when I asked you this question. But I can’t wait that long. You are my life and I never loved anyone as much as I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Marry me.” Harvey looked at her sincerely and his eyes glistened. “Yes” her voice was just above a whisper. “Yes yes yes! An infinite amount of yes!!” She shrieked. Harvey smiled widely as he slid the ring down her slender finger. She put up her hand and admired the ring “Goodness, this is beautiful.” Harvey wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her up with him before spinning her around. Harvey stopped, her feet still hadn't touched the ground. Their foreheads touched as they grinned at each other. “I love you so much” she whispered as she closed their distance. “Not even in a proposal will Harvey Specter ask” Both of them laugh, as they kiss again. They separated in shock as Donna swung open the door so hard. She inspected the sight before her and screamed “HARVEY HOW COULD YOU PROPOSE TO HER IN YOUR OWN OFFICE?!?! WE'VE MADE A PLAN!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: Feel free to send me some story ideas. Thanks!

MASTERLIST

#harvey specter #harvey specter fan fiction #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter imagines #harvey specter x reader #suits harvey specter #suits tv

[dollopi]

🍓 . words don't come easy ─ katsuki bkg.

# canon-typical violence .

"shit."

bakugo has been doing just about everything to figure out his dilemma. filtering through those ridiculous shoujo, observing those stupid-fuckin' couples that seem to occupy each and every damn corner of U.A., and yet, and yet...

he can't figure this flirting thing out. the mere prospect has katsuki's palms drenched with sweat; causing explosions if he thinks too hard, and at some point you'll sure be able to tell.

he thinks about it so much that it's starting to affect his academic perfomance, as katsuki stares off into space, wracking his damn brain on how to deal with you.

his oblivious-ass friends have even started to notice, prodding curiously as to why he's barely reacting to their incessant teasing, why he's suddenly blowing them off to go on these little study outings with you.

then, suddenly, mina realizes. kirishima follows along, with sero in tow. kaminari, the damn loud-mouth, is the last to know; and to their credit, they do try to help.

unfortunately, it only helps to drive him utterly fuckin' crazy.

now, he's fighting not only to drive you away, but also to contain his friends from not exploding into confetti whenever he dares approach you.

but balance is fragile, when you're dealing with a ticking time-bomb like his stupid-ass motherfuckin' idiot friends.

bakugo let his guard down for a damn second, and suddenly he's forgot his brain back at home.

peering up from your sheet of homework, you tilt your head, "what's wrong?"

katsuki rifles through his bag for a second-third time. he grinds his teeth, and closes his eyes, as if to brace himself for humiliation and defeat.

"forgot my fuckin' pen, that's what."

you giggle. unhelpful, as he quickly loses his cool, flushed and irate. bakugo hisses, a vein popping from his forehead as his cheeks blow red like an over-exhausted balloon.

"you think that's funny, brat?!" he stands to yell, nearly toppling his chair over in the process. all eyes at the library turn on him at the outburst, but katsuki is all too captivated with your laughter that follows.

you wave him off with ease, slipping a hand into your pencil-case and offering it to him. "you're such a baby," and then with a playful drone, "kaaa-achan."

bakugo seethes as he slumps back into the chair, hissing as ever-rare embarrassment sets in.

then, for a second time, you burst into a fit of giggles. it's barely quelled when you slap a hand over your mouth, and doesn't stop as you turn away from him.

bakugo is flustered. "shaddap."

you snort, giggling. "it's not you. well, sort of, actually. kaminari said something really funny the other day."

for some odd reason, he suddenly feels his heart sink down to his asshole; like a warning for a forecoming disaster. katsuki grunts.

"what'd that damn dunce say this time."

you peer back up at him with a squint, eyes glittering with amusement. your laughter is barely concealed behind wobbling lips.

"he asked if i like... you know. like you, or somethin'."

bakugo flushes. damn. damn, damn, damn. sneering lowly, he quickly brushes the suggestion off.

"that's fuckin' stupid." do you?

you sigh, your smile tires. "i know, right." do you?

head tipping over the back of your chair, you stretch comfortably. the two of you sit for a while in silence, looking back at eachother.

bakugo breaks off the staring-contest. you smirk. "ha."

"tch." he hisses, pursing his lips, "wind got in my fuckin' eyes."

"we're in an enclosed space, loser," you retort. "i win."

"i could beat your ass in sparring."

you don't grace him with a reply, rolling your eyes.

for a while the two of you sit in silence, homework long abandoned. katsuki twirls your pencil around in his hand, cheek resting in his other. the library feels stuffy; hot as his fluster lingers.

"do you?"

his head snaps up to meet your eyes, katsuki's voice a rumble. "hah?"

you smile, but it's nothing teasing. earnest flickers in your eye, a genuine interest that encapsulates his.

"do you like me."

bakugo's answer is biting, harsh as if bile on his tongue.

"i like you just about as much as shit on my shoe."

you grunt, unamused. there's a tick in your jaw as you roll your eyes in the way he fucking despises. bakugo regrets his words; it's a clumsy insult, and he doesn't mean it.

"okay." you move to stand, and he lets you. stupid, stupid. he's going to kill kaminari, that dumbass.

you abandon the table, and bakugo soon follows.

─

bakugo wants to melt into the floor.

bakugo wants to slam his head into a wall.

bakugo feels like strangling kaminari and kirishima and mina and anyone that's ever dared cross him.

aizawa won't budge and he refuses to ask to have his partner changed. not because you're weak, and not because you're not worthy, but because you're ignoring him.

teetering on the edge of going completely crazy, his friends haven't quite given up on the pursuit, and although you refuse to have anything to do with katsuki, you'll happily chatter on to that idiot mina; which is exactly what you're doing instead of giving him the time of day right now.

too bad he's not planning to let you off the hook, and so isn't aizawa, who gruffly orders the two of you to quit wasting time.

reluctantly, bakugo can tell you don't want this, you enter the arena.

"oi," he growls. you peer up at him, exhasparated, "yeah?"

there's a crackle, he can barely contain the explosion that goes off in his fist, "i told you. i'm gonna bust your fuckin' ass."

"do your best."

─

your back slams against the granite flooring, and you struggle to gasp for air. you've long gone haywire by now, exhausted by bakugo's seemingly untiring resolve that is currently beating you into the ground; literally.

with him things aren't as easy as telling him to stop, you're sure you'll have to die before he stops. bakugo, for once, is angry enough to be blinded. he's frustrated, you're sure; after all, it's impossible to miss the way he's been staring.

maybe you had been too harsh, freezing him out like that. everyone seemed to have noticed too, and suddenly mina was pleading with you to make up for whatever had happened.

part of you never wants to forgive him, and that want is strenghtened by the way bakugo holds good on his promise, sending you flying like a ragdoll.

scrambling to get away, he fists your costume and pins you beneath him. katsuki pants, hand crackling.

"the fuck's your problem, huh?" he snarls, "think you're better than me, that's it, you fuckin'--"

you lift your hand to shield your face, dirtied by the rubble, "it's 'cause you're a fucking asshole."

"you think i'm gonna change for you, or some shit?" bakugo stills, breath hitching. he bares his teeth like a dog, and you think he might just bite.

in a moment of strength, you push him off you. you're done, he realizes.

"no, that's how you treat all your friends, isn't it?" your joints ache as you stand, knees buckling beneath you, "like a little bitch."

you're pissing him off, you can tell. but there's also a hint of upset, one he poorly hides in the heat of the moment.

"you're such a pus─ hey!" he barks, grabbing your arm as you storm off, "don't tell me you're pissed 'cause i called you a piece of shit."

you turn to look at him, furious. it's getting heated, veins pumping as you rip away your arm. "you'd be too, dumbass! i swear, you're so thick─"

bakugo hisses, grinding his teeth. "shaddap! 's not my fault you're so─"

"you shut up!"

"i'll murder you, damn it!"

"oh," you push at him, "screw you, you loser!"

seething, bakugo wrangles your arms into place, knocking you into a wall. rubble unravels from above like hardened raindrops, and you brace yourself.

"you got something to say?" he rumbles, glare darkening, "i'll kill you."

grimacing, you lean further into the wall, and bakugo moves to follow it. "admit it, you prick," you seethe, "admit you you like me, or this is all for nothing and i'll never talk to you again."

a strangled noise leaves katsuki. he has half the mind to slam your head into the cement; to shut you up. maybe he'll scare you away, and you can leave for him to wallow in his feelings.

he squeezes your forearms, blunt leather digging into your skin. "...who the fuck told you, huh?"

a tiny smile, however smug, grazes your features. "anonymous source, "kacchan."

a/n: back from the dead at last ＼(≧▽≦)／

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader

[rosainta]

Team Fortress 2: 12 Flash Fiction Excerpts

('ms pauling' by makani on DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/makani/art/ms-pauling-208768568)

(Author's Notes (A/N) at the end. For now, enjoy these slices of TF2 writing cake, baked with the batter of my mind!) * * *

1 "The Runner's a Fool."

[Written 10-3-2024]

Scout’s heart was bursting as he ran through the underbrush.

He didn’t look back; he couldn’t. Not after what he saw. If he had known sooner, he might not have spent so much energy trying to woo her...

Maybe he wouldn’t have made such a fool of himself.

2 "Player of The Heart."

[Written 10-3-2024]

“Fine, one more time”, he grumbled.

Pauling gleamed as she turned to the tape player. Changing the song to something more romantic, she hummed along and placed herself into his arms. They began to sway with the music.

Sniper felt his heart racing, but his thoughts raced quicker.

He wondered: would the one he really loved be into this too?

3 "Long Overdue."

[Written 10-3-2024]

Spy knew what he had to do.

He sat down next to the crying boy, gently putting a hand on his back. “Screw off!” the younger yelled, pushing him away.

Seeing him like this broke him; it did every time. But he took a deep breath and said what he should have all those years ago:

“I am sorry, Scout.”

4 "What Happens if You Feed the Machine? (Or In This Case, Water It?)"

[Written 10-3-2024]

“Yer no fun, lad!”

“Come on now, you know how I’ve been goin’ dry...”

“What’s one bottle a’ scrumpy goin’ to do to you?”

“Well, let’s see here. How many eyeballs o’ yours do my teleporters teleport per use?”

“Er, one.”

“Well, expect that to be one less the next time ‘round, pardner.”

He chuckled, and in an instant, he gulped it all down.

5 "Soldier's Solace."

[Written 11-3-2024]

Soldier stared at the grand moon from the roof of the base.

After the day’s fighting and bread teleporting, the other mercenaries were off to bed. But Soldier remained, smiling contentedly from under his helmet without another care in the world.

Somehow, he knew that right then and for as long as he dreamed, everything would be alright.

6 "Буквы говорят о любви."

[Written 12-3-2024]

If Heavy learned one thing in all his years of studying Russian literature, it was that writing wasn’t something you did; it was something you became.

So, picking up the ink pen, he let his hand go and embodied with all he had what meant most to him.

“It is time I tell you, Doktor.”

7 "Like The Warmth of a Fireplace."

[Written 13-3-2024]

Pyro looked at Engineer as a child does a Mall Santa, clapping. “Huddah, huddah!”

“Okay, one more, just for you.”

The technician took a deep breath and began to strum on the old guitar, his low voice singing a song of pink skies. Pyro swayed to the beat in bliss.

And, with every hum, the two grew closer.

8 "A Smile Means A Million Words, That Is Until You Speak."

[Written 14-3-2024]

Scout liked sketching.

While words weren’t his forte, art allowed him to express what he felt but could never say. He licked his lips, furrowed his eyebrows, and furiously scratched at the page with a pencil. Every detail, every form-- they had to be perfect.

When he was done, he proudly smiled at his creation.

And it smiled back.

BONUS!

As he admired his creation, he didn’t notice Sniper approaching him.

“And just what are you scribblin' off today, mate?”

Scout snapped around, flustered. He wasn't expecting company, and especially not from him.

“A-ah, hey, Snipes!", he blurted out. "It's nothing, really. Just another drawing of Spy screwin’ those... stupid French bread swords, whatever ya' call 'em.”

As he stammered an excuse, his face slowly turning red, he didn’t realize that his creation's rough, sketched face-- a picture of the marksman himself!-- was peaking through the corner of the sketchbook in the crook of his arm. Sniper paused for a moment as he stared at the work in awe, its own happily gazing back at him. Then, snapping out of his trance, he wordlessly turned back to smile at the younger man.

“You’ve got some talent, kid," he said, softly. "Please, don’t waste it.”

Then, quick as he came, he ambled away.

Scout was left standing, bewildered, and admittedly a bit confused, and he slowly turned back to look back at his drawing.

He traced the rough face of the man, looking wistfully with a tinge of giddiness in his eyes.

“If only you knew...", he whispered to himself without thinking. "Maybe then I could draw you like one of my French girls.”

Then, upon realizing the stupidity of his own remark (and of its disgusting, Spy-related... Frenchness), he immediately gagged.

“Ew, crap, no!”

Somewhere in the distance, Spy instinctively rolled his eyes.

9 "I Feel Olive!"

[Written 15-3-2024]

Medic pinched his nose, a low groan rumbling from him.

"What is wrong, Doktor? You seem stressed", Heavy asked, concernedly lifting his nose from his book.

Medic turned to him, tired eyes smiling weakly. "Ah, it iz nothing. Just... ze dull, useless legal documents. You know, as per usual."

"Well, if it makes Medic feel any better, Heavy ran out of olive for sandvich, so eating it was practically useless! I could not even digest it without big frown", he said, frowning in turn.

He grumbled, continuing, "What Heavy means to say is... you are not alone in your troubles."

Medic paused for a bit, before laughing and grinning back at the giant. He was grateful for this goofy big old man.

"Oh, you alvays know what to say, Heavy. Come on, let us escape this prison of an office and find you that olive. I am getting quite hungry and ze papers can wait, after all!"

10 "Off-Target."

[Written 29-3-2024]

Scout's mind just. couldn't. think.

His head was jumbled, a puzzle with the pieces too lost in the messy maze of his brain ever to solve. He wished he could crack open his skull like he did the BLUs on the field; maybe that would knock some sense into him.

He really needed to focus. Sniper always did.

So, why couldn't he?

11 "Our Paths Shall Cross Again."

[Written 4-4-2024]

It pained him to see her like this.

So, for the first time in his life, he put his pride aside and took one last glance at the sleeping lady before leaving the room.

Scout wished he could stay all night and marvel at her familiar, sheer beauty, even as she slept so frail. But he knew what she needed most was not him, but help.

Who knew what she went through those 2 years?

He resigned himself to the couch, closing his eyes. His affections for Miss Pauling would have to wait, as they always did, but he was fine with that.

She was safe, and that’s what mattered most to him.

12 "Guess Who's Up For Surgery?"

[Written 6-4-2024]

Medic was practically laughing with joy! Or, in his peculiar case, cackling maniacally.

Ah, it was of no matter— the doctor was filled to the brim with inspiration! So many projects to start and bodies to stitch; oh, what a wonderful feeling!

Heavy smiled as he watched the doctor go about his merry way.

Sure, when he was in this mood, that likely meant imminent danger for all those around him (they’d be his newest experiment, no doubt), but seeing him happy always made Heavy’s heart feel a little lighter.

So, as the doctor bounced up to him with his newest rambling, he didn’t protest!

* * *

Author's Notes: Over the past weeks, I've been working on being more spontaneous in my writing—no planning, just writing with the flow! And what better way to do that than to write flash fiction about my favourite fandom? (Plus, I have been practically absent here (post-wise) for, what, months? So why not use this as an excuse to share them with you? Ehehe... Okay, let's forget I said anything; moving on!) Flash fiction, with its creative liberties and curt nature, is an excellent medium (not forgetting to mention the fact it's a disgracefully UNDERRATED form of media!) that inspires me to write because it sort of... brutally invalidates any excuse of author's block I have... since it is literally spilling the words from your conscience into text WITHOUT the worry of length (ah! My greatest enemies...). Plus, it is... sort of, maybe, kinda addicting because it's just so freakishly simple, and the more you do it, the more productive you'll be and feel! Isn't that wonderful? (It could even be a drug! Er, well, a good one... wait, is there even a thing as a good drug? Ah- nevermind.) Anyway, if you're struggling with author's block, I'd heavily recommend trying it. Of course, it may not work for everyone (and I am not here to legally endorse this like a paid sponsor!) but it's still worth a shot if you haven't yet already. And hey, if it doesn't, you can feel free to blame me for the waste of time! Don't worry, I won't mind. Before we go on, I have to take this moment now to thank the one sweet old woman (whom I've unfortunately forgotten the name of) who first taught me about it a few years back during a summer writing course. She taught me much about what I know and love today, so I owe this and much of my writing happiness and technique to her! Thank you, lady. May you continue to write on!! Anyhow, to give you more context, these are all excerpts taken from a private account (but not a secret one! It's out there... somewhere...) of mine, edited for quality purposes and also because a few of the original excerpts bugged me due to their... well, innate cringiness. Hopefully, there's less of it now, but I wouldn't count on my eradicating it as it seems that cringe is just a part of my habitual writing style (I am sorry to disappoint, unnamed woman from the course... I have failed you). I hope that at least is is bearable enough for you to read. However, if not, I offer you my greatest condolences. If you'd like some bleach for your eyes, I have that too. You can also tell by the number of Speeding Bullet and Red Oktoberfest excerpts that I was... in quite the shipping mood for some of them. So, if that doesn't bug you, feel free to indulge yourselves in these characters as I obsessively have over the course of writing these!! It would be my pleasure to offer that liberty to you (and perhaps, shamelessly to myself as well, ahaha..), so please, go ahead. Anyway, that's all of the random blurbs I have to ramble on about today. Thank you for reading- or skimming, at the very least- and please have a marvellous day, pally~!

~ Rosain Quivan

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 demoman #tf2 miss pauling #writing #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 soldier #tf2 engineer #rosain quivan's daily logs #flash fiction #short story #thank you unnamed woman from the course #please forgive the cringe #first post in a while #sniper x scout #speeding bullet #red oktoberfest #heavy x medic

[strawbaerriesky]

🚃 Evening Train

tags: megumi x f!reader | megumi, yuji and nobara meet reader and her friend on the train, yuji asks for reader’s number because megumi is too shy to ask you himself | reader dislikes summer

a/n: sitting in school on warm days is the worst :|

wc: 1,4k

warnings: -

Most people associate summer with a blue sky, going out with friends, relaxing outside and just generally having a good time. But you definitely did not have a good time at the moment. You were currently sitting in school, the essay you are supposed to work on long forgotten. It’s the sixth of august and it is way too warm to focus on anything but the overwhelming heat. You are sweating without moving, your school uniform is sticking to your skin and the splitting headache you got from the heat is making you feel dizzy. You absolutely hated summer, especially on days like these, on which you had to stay in school until late in the afternoon with no hopes of going out with friends or even refreshing yourself by drinking something cool.

At least that’s what you thought until your best friend burst into the school library, in which you are currently trying to write your essay, who is calling out to you way too loudly for a library. “Heyyy, Y/N!! There you are! I’ve been looking for you for a while now. Who knew you are still trying to work on that stupid homework.” You turn towards your friend, wondering how they are always this energetic. “Well, compared to a certain someone, I actually care about my grades” In Return they snort and start rambling about their grades not being that bad and that not everyone takes school as serious as you do. After explaining some stuff about their grades and school, they walk near the table you are sitting at, closing your exercise book and snatching your pen out of your hand to put it back into your pencil case. “You shouldn’t work that hard on a warm day like this or you’ll probably overwork yourself. Let’s leave school for today and get some refreshing drinks! There opened a new café nearby that also sells some fancy sodas and alcohol-free cocktails. We should definitely check that out!” You were about to start complaining to them about wanting to finish your essay right now but your friend already grabbed all of your stuff and starts off towards the exit of the library.

In order to get your stuff back, you needed to run after your best friend, resulting in you two being on your way to the café that they mentioned before. The café was really not far from your school so that you two arrived there after a short walk. The café was designed in a kind of cottage core aesthetic, creating a cute and comfortable atmosphere. You two ordered your favorite flavored sodas and sat down at a light green wooden table with white benches that matched the design of the table. It quite frustrated you that you were not able to finish your essay but the relief to be able to refresh yourself with a cool drink was way more present in your mind than the annoyance over your school work. During your stay at the café you two chatted away about your current interests, class mates, teachers and family members while sipping on your drinks from time to time. You were glad to get the chance to talk to them like this again, since you were extremely busy with school work these past weeks, which made it almost impossible to actually meet up like this. After finishing your drinks, you left the café and searched for the nearest train station because you had to take a train to get back to your homes.

“Wow, the evening train is way less crowded than the train I usually take in the afternoon.” is what you stated after you two sat down in the train you just went onto. The train in the afternoon, that you had to take after school, is extremely packed, up to the point where everyone is squished together in order to fit everyone into the train. But the evening train you are currently taking is pretty empty in comparison. You two immediately found a seat after entering the train and there are still some seats free so that nobody had to stand. “Yeah, it really is. This is way more comfortable than our usual train rides home. We should get drinks after school way more often if that means that we can always take the evening train.” Their answer put a small smile on your face while you realized how much you missed spending time with them like this. “We definitely should! I really enjoyed spen-“ But you didn’t get to finish that sentence as your friend nudged you and interrupted you by nodding towards three high schoolers. “Hey, what is up with them? They keep on glancing towards us while whispering to each other. Do we have something on our faces or what?”

He wasn’t even aware of the fact that he had been staring at you since you and your friend entered the train until his friend asked him about it. “Hey, Fushiguro! How long are you going to stare at that girl over there?” Of course his first reaction upon hearing that question is to get defensive and to deny the accusation his friend just made. “What are you even talking about Itadori? I was not staring at her, I was just looking outside of the window behind her.” “Yeah, yeah, right. If you think she’s cute just ask her for her number or something.” is what his second friend countered after hearing his very obvious excuse. And of course his other friend had to agree with that and adds, “Yeah, Kugisaki is right. Just shoot your shot, this is your chance to get to know a super cute girl! Look, she’s even looking back at you right now! Just ask her!” Him realizing that you were looking in their direction caused a light blush to spread on his cheeks due to him getting flustered. He found this whole situation to be extremely embarrassing and awkward, making him complain to his two friends. “Okay, I admit that she is quite cute but I can’t just walk up to a random person and ask for their number. That’s way too awkward.” Upon hearing this, his friend Itadori got an idea on how to solve this situation without turning it too awkward for any of them. “Heh, I’ve got you bro.” That was the only thing Itadori said before he stood up and made his way over to the cute girl and her friend, not giving him the chance to argue or stop his friend.

“Huh?” was all you were able to reply before one of the high schoolers got up and started walking up towards you and your friend. He stopped right in front of you and you did not expect the thing he is going to ask of you. “Hey, sorry to bother you but my friend Fushiguro back there thinks you are really cute. Could he have your number so he can get to know you?” You were taken aback by that request and just stared at the boy in from of you for a few seconds before you were able to process what he just said. As the realization of the situation kicks in, a deep red blush stared to spread over your face while turning your head in the direction of the other two high schoolers. The boy, whose name seemed to be Fushiguro, was blushing just as much as you, as he stared down at his feet to avoid eye contact with you. He seemed to be just as flustered by this whole situation, reminding you of the fact that you should probably answer the boy in front of you so that the situation would not be getting more awkward than it already was. “Uhhh, huh? What? I mean, uh, yeah sure!” Immediately after answering the boy, you proceeded to give him your number, after what he returned to his two friends with a huge grin on his face. Your friend also started grinning and teasing you about how much you were blushing just now and about how you actually agreed to giving out your number to them.

When the train was getting close to the stop you had to get off, you stood up and said goodbye to your friend. During that, you realized that you told none of the three high schoolers your name and that you should probably do so before leaving the train, so that the boy Fushiguro knows under what name he should save your number. You decided to wait until the train was right before your train station before you tuned around towards the high schoolers again while yelling “Oh, I almost forgot. My name is Y/N!”. Afterwards you immediately ran out of the train compartment, already wondering if he will actually message you and what he would probably text you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you

[blue-jisungs]

old people activities

a/n. back to normal posting!! the ask game was fun but a bit tiring ㅠㅠ so here’s a small thing i’ve had on my mind for a while :D i finally wrote something for my joonie🫶

it all started with a newspaper.

after a sleepover you had with the maknae line, you walked to the kitchen just to see that namjoon was sneaking around and trying to eat something.

you decided to make a breakfast for you and the boys and eat before they wake up since you were hungry.

in the middle of your meal, namjoon handed you a newspaper he was reading and pointed at the headline about them with a gummy smile.

“who still reads newspapers?” you suddenly heard tae’s grumpy voice.

“good morning to you too, taehyung” a scoff left your mouth and then you pressed a quick kiss onto the corner of joon’s lips that said i’m proud of you.

“ew”

“hey man, just shut up and eat” joon laughed and put the plate full of food in front of still sleepy taehyung.

then it was a book.

“are you seriously reading right now? both of you?” the voice on the other side of the phone was a bit muffled and there were a lot of shuffling sounds as well. probably because hobi was running up the stairs.

“well not anymore” you groaned, closing your book. namjoon didn’t though. his arm that was wrapped around you still continued to draw circles on your skin.

“i’ll be there in two minutes. and if i see both of you with noses in your books i swear i’ll consider signing you to a book club” he laughed.

“bold of you to assume that we don’t already have one” you scoffed, sending joon a wide grin. he looked up at you and winked.

“wait, have? you have your own book club?” hobi asked, clearly confused “don’t tell me it’s only you two in there”

“yup!” you hummed and bookmarked joon’s book in case hoseok was about to burst into the room and yeet the book somewhere.

you didn’t know if that counted but then it was your sleep schedule.

“come on! if you’re bored just say so!” jin whined and tugged your t-shirt. you laughed, shaking your head.

“no it’s not that. you know i love spending time with you. and i literally can’t be bored with you” you sent him a soft smile and looked at the rest of the boys “but…”

namjoon tried his best to hide his yawn but it was so obliviously loud that he couldn’t even do it.

“you’re turning into old people, seriously. it’s barely 8pm” yoongi crossed his arms and namjoon just shrugged.

“let’s face it, we’re getting old. and we’re really tired. lately we started going to bed earlier and it’s surprisingly good? we’ve got more energy in the morning and the day feels longer…” your boyfriend tried to explain it but jin waved his hand.

“aich, you’re just like my grandparents. just go to sleep” he scoffed, still taken aback by your words.

the incident that made you think about it more was the dinner.

"y/n you didn’t miss click?” jungkook asked, tilting his head.

“no” you frowned, placing the bowl of rice down “i meant 1pm”

“dinner at 1pm? ah you’re really turning old…” jimin giggled and you just exchanged surprised looks with namjoon.

maybe they’re right…?

“hey, what starts with d, has fourteen letters and f in it?” you asked, tapping your chin with your pen. namjoon took the crossword out of your hands with his free hand - since the other one was caressing your hair.

“difference?” you heard hobi’s voice.

“too short” you and namjoon replied at the same time. jin walked into the room and let out a dramatic sigh.

“really? crosswords now? i swear we’ll send you to nursing home!” he whined and you shook your head as the others laughed.

“defenestration!” you grinned and took the pencil to fill the gaps.

“what? now you know archaic words no one uses anymore? ah guys…” jin sighed.

“i’ll perform it on you if you don’t shut up” you grinned and namjoon just scoffed, taking the crossword from you.

even if you started behaving like old people, you didn’t mind. because if that’s how growing old with namjoon will look like, you won’t complain.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi

#bts namjoon #namjoon fluff #namjoon #bts fluff #bts soft hours #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts x you #bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #kim namjoon

[tqngerine]

stay in the middle — 40. still life

SYNOPSIS: Huening Kai would do anything for his best friend Taehyun, and this one small favor is no exception. It appears that Kai’s fellow campus journalist Y/N has caught his attention, and Taehyun needs help connecting to them. Befriending someone outside of his small social circle wasn’t something Kai did often, but he comes to find that it’s easy to get close to Y/N—maybe even getting a little too close.

word count: 1.1k

“Oh, thank god it’s still here.” Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, clutching onto their beloved translucent pink pouch. What a relief it was to see it and its alternating My Melody and flower pattern again.

Taehyun simply sat behind the table while his big eyes followed Y/N’s every movement, his own notebook and pens now laying untouched beneath him. In true cat fashion, Y/N thought to themself.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost all those pens inside.” Y/N continued rambling. “They’re practically my lifeline!”

“Haha, yeah. Losing something so precious to you is really not cool.” Taehyun managed to chuckle.

“Have you lost anything precious to you, Taehyun?” Y/N asked simply, adjusting themself onto the seat across the physics major.

“Oh! Yeah, I have. Quite recently too. It was this red and gray striped headband Yeonjun hyung gifted me before he left the volleyball varsity. I used to wear it everyday to training until I carelessly left it behind court one night and never saw it again the next.”

“Wait, did it have your team’s emblem embroidered on the center?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Wait one sec.” Y/N snaked an arm inside their backpack and fished out the piece of cloth they had kept in there for about a month now. It accurately fit Taehyun’s description, and judging by the way his jaw dropped…

“That’s the one!”

Y/N happily handed it across the table. “I found this laying on the court during one of my practices with my acting partner—“

“Jay?”

“Ah, yeah. You know him?”

“Hyuka mentioned you have a crush on him,”

Y/N cleared their throat. “Anyway, I knew I was gonna be reporting on the volleyball team soon so I held onto it and meant to ask around during my visit, but it completely slipped my mind then.” Scratching the back of their neck, they gave a sheepish smile. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m returning this too late.”

“No! Not at all! Thank you for returning this back to me, I really—“ Taehyun must have realized that he had practically jumped off his seat eagerly, stopping to wince in embarrassment. He lowered himself back on his seat, face struck red.

Y/N gave him a chuckle, hoping that was enough to let him know that he had no reason to be ashamed. They personally couldn’t judge him one bit; they’ve had their own bursts of excitement and assumed Taehyun was the type to convey his own outwardly like them. Just another ball of pure energy like his taller best friend. If anything, it was nice to be able to read his emotions beyond just his expressive eyes.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, however, Taehyun had actually planned to safe keep their pencil case and return it to them the next time they met. You know, in an act of heroic deed. But Y/N coming back and deciding to study worked in Taehyun’s favor too.

Or at least it should have. The guy struggled to focus on his own studying now that they were sitting in front of him. Just the two of them with no Kai or Yeonjun hyung or even one of Y/N’s friends in their company.

He didn’t mean to stare like an absentminded fool while they were engrossed between scribbling down their notebook and typing on their laptop since they made him feel like, well, just that: an absentminded fool. He did make an effort to finish reading his module, especially when Y/N would look up for five minutes to take a screen break. In these breaks, they’d simply cross their arms and lean back, sometimes taking sips of their mocha latte. It seemed like only their hands were put at rest, their mind still occupied with activity.

“You’re a lot more quiet than I thought you’d be.” Taehyun suddenly spoke, shaking Y/N from their trance in magazine-ridden thoughts.

“Well, we are in the library.” They joked.

“I-I mean, I don’t know, even in our previous hang-outs. You’re not as talkative or bubbly as the stereotypical theater kid, I guess? Beomgyu seems to fit that image more.” Taehyun said, playfully twirling the headband in his hands. “I don’t intend it to be an insult, by the way! I just—I remember your role in the theater club’s last production and… okay I’m realizing how stupid this sounds now, but I somewhat assumed you were just as loud as your character then.”

Ah, last semester’s production of Legally Blonde. Even though Jay had easily snagged the role of Emmett Richmond, there was no way Y/N could imagine themself in Elle Woods’ pink heels so they settled for one of her best friends in the Greek Chorus instead. Even that role pushed them way out of their comfort zone. That being said, it was a relief to hear their portrayal was believable enough that someone thought they were just as fabulous and self-confident off-stage.

“There was also that one time you coincidentally caught my off-shot volleyball during one of my practices. That just seemed really badass at the moment, not gonna lie.”

Now Y/N did not expect to hear that. “I… don’t remember that. Wow, we’ve already met before?”

Taehyun’s cheeks blushed furiously. “Er, I guess? But, like, it’s such a random minor moment, I don’t expect you to remember it. Hell, I don’t even know why I still remember it.”

“Is that why you were sweating buckets the first time we talked? Because you thought I was an intimidating and extravagant thespian?” Y/N chuckled. “Wow, I assumed it was either you weren’t used to interviews or that Hyuka had been talking shit about me to you.”

“Oh, I have no issues with interviews,” (he’s a brainy kid, go figure) “and Kai would never do that behind your back. So yeah, that was quite the case.”

“Well, your image has to have shattered since we had that in-depth discussion about different types of penguins at the food hall.” Y/N laughed, recalling the event from a few days ago. “I never even considered that there were that much! How do you know about these things?”

“I just, you know, read a lot,”

“Nerd.”

“Hey!” Taehyun crossed his arms, but the smile he was fighting against told Y/N he was lightheartedly playing along. “You said you needed help researching on astrophysics for your next literature coverage, but if you’re gonna make fun of my brain…”

“No, no, no! I’m sorry, Taehyun, my poor kitty cat! Please don’t leave me to dust!”

Taehyun lost it and burst into purr-like giggles. Y/N couldn’t help but feel relief that he’d easen up to their presence despite his preconceived notions on them. That one lunch spent with him and their friends told them enough that he gelled with their group as easily as a glitter sticker on their notebook (his eyes sparkling like such too). From what they’ve heard even prior, Taehyun had been nothing but loyal to Kai for many years.

It would be pleasant to have a friend like him stick around Y/N’s life too.

< prev | masterlist | next >

A/N: i hope you guys know the exact Taehyun sound I’m referring to when i write “purr-like giggles” thx. so that’s y/n’s life these days! kind of hectic balancing two clubs, a magazine internship, and a social life, huh 😮‍💨 i fear to say that we’re back to regularly programmed schedule this week, so i’ll be seeing you again this wednesday, but man i’ve just really been dying to move the plot forward ! hope you enjoyed still ^^

TAGLIST: open!! leave a comment below or send me an ask to be included in this taglist ^^

@kaisdefender @fairysh4mpoo @0rangemilk @beomsbeanie @hanjisungsgirl @luvsoobs @goldennika @spagettae @solarsolarity @hy2ka-i @aestheticsluut @sophie-writingtime @quitbeingawhore @destinylightlove42 @softpia @strawberry-kirby @matcharetsuko @txtbrainrot @taekwondoes @tatanbin @uno7 @catsyoon @fzy-b3om @concatpng @wezbin @dczedhee @officiallyjaehyuns @wannabeyn @youbettertellmeyes @umbreonwolfy @yumilovesloona @softcabur @tsookies @amazingly-amazing-loser @junhuicosmo @planethyuka @minhoino

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[margotquinsel]

Modern Encanto AU

Chapter 7 The Tour ( Not really a tour)

The family was walking around the resort looking for their cabins, The place was massive it would take a while to get used to it. It was a beautiful place in the 60s but now it wasn't that.. Pretty.

It was Agustin's idea to go to Disney Land, He's always loved disney princesses and often found himself drawing them ,making dresses for his daughters, and watching the movies obviously.

"Ugh, where is the cabin? My legs hurt." Isabela complained

"Aw, do you want me to carry you?" Her father teased.

"If the offer is still out ." She answered and jumped on him causing them to fall and make a big scene. Mirabel burst out laughing, Luisa got scared and tried to help them up, Isabela was heavily embarrassed and got mad at Agustin saying that it was his fault, Agustin somehow fell into a bin that was miles away, and Julieta is...gone?

"Juli- Julieta? Mariposas wheres your mother?"

"I dunno, maybe she slipped off."

"Or saw something Pa would like."

"Maybe she saw that princess she likes."

Julieta saw a necklace with Agustins favourite princess on it and she had to get it. She spoils her husband yes, should she spoil her daughters more, yes.

She got a little to carried away, she bought around £100 worth of Moana stuff like:

A notebook

Pencils

colouring pencils

rubber

necklace

earrings

pens

phone case

jumper

ect..

It took her a momment to realise what she just did. All the money down the drain, but atleast its all for her husband right? Her husband deserves the world, so does her daughters but, shes known Agustin most of her life. She does love her daughters, she needs to get them something. She settled on some donuts.

Her daughters love donuts.

"Where is Mama?"

"Can we just sit down and wait for her?"

"I want to go to the Cabin."

"She'll show up soon, I'll phone her."

#Rushed #julieta #agustin #isabela #mira #luisa #encanto #encanto series #modern au #holiday #agustin rojas #rojas family #madrigal sisters #blue family

[ppersonna]

my only wish - knj | m

“ santa can you hear me? i have been so good this year. and all i want is one thing. please tell me my true love is here ” - my only wish (this year), britney spears

✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

✹ genre- smut, fluff, tiny tiny angst if you squint, enemies to lovers, fake dating au, idiots to lovers, brief mention of YoonMin

✹ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont do it), daddy kink lolol, namjoon has a big dick, oral sex (m/f receiving), cum swallowing, light cum play, dirty talk, light degradation (very light tbh), praise kink, lots of mentions of joon being a beefy boy, masturbation,

✹ a/n- its here!! finally! my contribution to rockin around the christmas tropes. big big big shout out to @ladyartemesia​ @xjoonchildx​ @untaemedqueen​ @underthejoon​ @yeojaa​ @snackhobi​ for being my co collaborators. and a warm shout out to @wwilloww​ and @hobi-gif​ for being some very lovely betas. thank you thank you! i hope you enjoy!

There are few things you hate most in this world. 

 Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange…

 But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things: 

 Christmas. 

 And Kim Namjoon. 

Christmas, in your opinion, is nothing more than a consumerist holiday, anchored on ensuring you’re guilted enough from November 1st to the 25th of December to spend your hard earned money on shit your friends and loved ones won’t even use. It’s a time for people to pretend they love giving and caring, while shoving you out of lines in stores, buying up all the groceries as if it’s the end times, and forcing party after mindless party for “celebration” that ends in seeing your boss drunk and pants-less by the punchbowl. 

 And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon. 

 On paper, he’s your colleague, to put the terms friendly. In reality, he’s your opponent, your adversary. He’s annoying, rude, stuck up, and not to mention a douchebag heartbreaker. He’s everything you hate wrapped in one disgustingly handsome face. 

 The man never misses a chance to steal a case from underneath your nose, rub the praise he receives from your bosses in your face, and look ridiculously delectable in his tight suits that he insists he wears around the office. He absolutely infuriates you. 

 And now, as you sit in the company-wide meeting, your heart sinks as you realize the worst thing about Namjoon—he’s about to get the promotion you’ve been vying for your entire career.

 That position was as good as yours—at least, you had thought.

 That was until lead counsel, Seokjin, stands in front of all the attorneys present and calls out Namjoon’s name, commending him on winning his latest case—the case that you had done the bulk of the work for. Seokjin even tells the rest of the lawyers in the room that Namjoon is “someone to watch” with a glint of pride in his eyes. 

 The smug smile Namjoon sends in your direction as he teasingly nibbles on a pen with his sultry mouth is enough to make you want to tear his eyes out and use them as olives in the martini you sorely needed.

 Namjoon smirks as he walks past you once the meeting ends.

 “Make sure you watch me, baby,” he whispers into your ear. 

 His hand rests on your lower back and you hate how much he aggravates you, and hate even more so that he frustrates you sexually as much as he does intellectually.

 Unfortunately, your body can’t keep up with your mind’s distaste for the elder lawyer. His presence around you makes your blood vessels tighten and your head feel light—nipples prickling against your bra when he winks at you.

 “Asshole,” you whisper under your breath as you pack up your notebook.

 “Oh, ___!” Seokjin calls out just as you’re about to leave the all-glass meeting room.

 Your head suddenly screeches to a very frustrated, sexual halt when you turn to face the lead counsel of your company.

 “Yes, Mr. Kim?”

 “I’ve got a case for you.”

 The smile on his face makes you relax. Maybe he sees your potential. Maybe he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing Namjoon. Maybe you’ll be the “one to watch” and you can rub that right in Namjoon’s perfect, stunning face.

 A thick manila folder slides across the oak table towards you from Seokjin’s hands. The impressive volume of the dossier makes you giddy with anticipation.

 “I know you won’t let me down.”

 You nod, nibbling at your lips, before bowing to your superior and dashing out of the room as fast as your Louboutins can handle.

 It’s not until you sit at your desk, a cramped little cubicle next to Park Jimin, your best friend and paralegal assistant, that you open the folder.

 Your heart sinks as your eyes hurriedly rush over the title page.

 Personal Injury Suit.

 A dejected sigh leaves you as you throw the folder onto your desk and slouch back in your ergonomic office chair.

 “What’s up, pussycat?” Jimin smiles as he rolls his chair over to your side of the cubicle. “Namjoon got you worked up again?”

 You groan as you take off your reading glasses, setting them aside to rub at the burgeoning headache building at your temples. You had momentarily forgotten all about Namjoon in the hurried hope that you’d land a case of significance, something you could finally use to prove yourself.

 Instead, you gained yet another in-and-out, settle outside of court case. Likely some elderly geriatric suing a corporation for too-slippery floors.

 “Another fucking personal injury suit,” you whine as you thrust the folder into the lithe paralegal’s hands.

 He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

 “Man, Seokjin really has it out for you.”

 You level a look at your best friend, before nodding and holding your head in your hands.

 “Namjoon is getting all the good cases! He gets the media attention, the litigation deals, everything! It’s like I’m not even given a chance to show what kind of lawyer I can be when I’m stuck with all the nursing home and car accident suits!”

 Jimin bows dutifully, nodding his head as you express your woes.

 “I can do more than just personal injury litigation… and Seokjin knows that! It’s just that Namjoon keeps getting all the air-time!”

 “I know, babe. I know.”

 With one last sigh of disbelief, you take the folder out of Jimin’s hands and sit upright at your desk.

 “Well, I guess if I’m going to be a personal injury lawyer, I’m going to be the best fucking one yet. Let’s get to work.”

 “Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

  Namjoon sighs as he listens to his mother blabber on and on through his phone. He leans back in his chair and surveys the wide expanse of his corner office.

 Seokjin gave him this space, an upgrade from the desolate cubicles when he won his last big case, Kim Taehyung, artist v. the city of New York. He can’t help but smirk as he glimpses you from his window, pouring over a case file. He notes the curve of your back in the silk blouse you’re wearing and the way it tucks into your pencil skirt. He wishes he could see the outline of your ass and watch as it sways back and forth when you walk.

 “I just don’t understand why you can’t ever bring anyone home for the holidays!”

 His mother breaks him from his silent reverie of detailing every aspect of your backside.

 “You know your grandmother will not be alive much longer! And all she wants is her only grandson to be happy and in love! And a few grandchildren won’t hurt!”

 “I am her grandchild, Mom.”

 She’s silent for a moment.

 “Well, I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren either.”

 He groans again and presses his fingers to his forehead, a headache bubbling up behind his eyes.

 “Don’t you act like that, young man! You have a big empty house, big car, big life, and no one to share it with. I just want you to be happy.”

 She continues on and Namjoon can’t help but let her words sink in.

 He has it all. Expensive luxury apartment, enormous bed, gorgeous kitchen, money to spend on traveling and enjoying life. Yet he spends most of his time here, stuck in his office. He’s utterly alone, regardless of how many social guests he tries to entertain, horrid dates he attempts to go on. He’s always left alone, and he feels it deep at the very bottom of his heart—the loneliness and desire for a companion.

 “Mom! Mom!” He interrupts her diatribe on the futility of his adult life. “Stop!”

 “Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

 “I’ll bring home my girlfriend for the holidays, okay?”

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

 “A girlfriend?” she asks, tentatively. “Really?”

 “Yeah,” he breathes, wincing already at the lie he’s spoon-feeding his poor mother—all in the name of getting her off his back. “She’s kind of shy, so I didn’t want to tell you about her yet, but now seems like the best time. I’m... I’m even thinking of proposing.”

 The words come out of Namjoon’s mouth before he can stop them. His mom bursts into screams of delight, and he can tell she’s running to his beloved grandmother to tell her the news.

 “Oh, Namjoon! This is all we’ve ever wanted for you. I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to meet her! Oh, goodness, I can’t want to tell your father. Goodbye, son! I’ll see you two soon!”

 She hangs up before Namjoon has a chance to even breathe.

 “Fuck.”

 He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces. 

 How the hell is he going to find a fiance in the next 3 days before the holiday break? 

 There’s Jennie, his ex.

 He thinks about it for a moment, before quickly dismissing it. No, much too clingy and possessive. She’d take it to be real, and he’d be stuck with her.

 His last hookup, Jihoo?

 No, too aloof. His mom would never buy that they were a love-sick couple on the brink of engagement.

 A crash outside his office startles Namjoon, making him stand and exit the large corner suite.

 The commotion is coming from your cubicle, where he can see you’re struggling to use the decrepit computer. The crash must have been from you slamming the keyboard to the desk, causing the individual keys to pop off the board.

 “Shit! Jimin, help me put this keyboard back together!” 

 You shimmy out of your chair and onto your knees, an excellent sight for Namjoon if he wasn’t so concerned about your well-being.

 The paralegal is standing above you, watching as you kneel to gather the pieces of the obliterated keyboard.

 “Oh no, honey. It’s against my personal constitution to be on my knees unless it’s for a handsome man.”

 “God, Jimin, come on.”

 “Hey, it’s not my fault you hulk-smashed the life out of that poor keyboard.”

 Namjoon smirks, turning back into his office and sliding into his desk. He easily opens his MacBook and emails Yoongi in IT, requesting a brand new computer for your desk—no holds barred. He wants the top of the line for you.

 He suddenly has just the person in mind to be his fake fiancée. 

  A brand new, gorgeous computer is at your desk the next day you arrive.  You nearly spill your hot peppermint mocha when you see the sleek machine atop your old plastic desk instead of the broken clunker that was there the day before.

 “What the hell?” You ask Jimin as you set your coffee down gently as if any movement might scare the new computer away. “Did you order this?”

 “I love you, but I would never order you something this nice.” 

 You can’t help but roll your eyes as you sit down to marvel at the modern machinery. At least Jimin is honest.

 “Maybe I’ll call Yoongi and ask him where it came from,” you wonder aloud, hand hovering over your phone.

 “YOONGI?” Jimin screeches, eyes suddenly wide and crazed.

 “Yeah? The IT guy?”

 “I know who Yoongi is, you dumbass! Here, let me call him! I’m your assistant!”

 He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

 “You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

 Jimin smiles cherubically, completely ignoring your confusion. He’s suddenly the picture of a model employee.

 “Don’t you worry! I’ll be right on it!”

 He hops from your desk with your cell phone gripped tight, and saunters away to a secluded area out of your eyesight.

 “What the fuck is going on today?” You ask out loud, settling into your chair and unloading your bag of files.

 “How's the new computer?”

 The sudden intruder makes you jump, nearly spilling your coffee, yet again.

 “Fuck!” You shriek as you attempt to right yourself and the dangerously hot liquid sloshing in the paper cup. “You scared me!”

 The chuckle that comes from behind you makes your stomach flip. You know that laugh. You could recognize that laugh a hundred miles away, in a hurricane, with headphones on.

 That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

 “I—How did you know about my computer?”

 Namjoon takes a knee, bringing his face to your level in your chair. He’s close to you, so dangerously close. You can smell the Giorgio Armani cologne applied to his pressure points—the heat of his skin warming the scent and mingling with his own subtleties. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head. He smells so comforting—like a home you never knew you were missing until he arrived.  

 “I saw it when I walked in this morning.” 

 He breaks you from your daydreaming of warm, firm hands caressing your body and you’re thrown headfirst back into reality—the reality where you can’t stand the man mere inches from you.

 You push back from where you are and stand, eager to get away from Namjoon’s sudden interest in close proximity. He smirks and rises from his spot, pocketing his hands in his tight cream suit.

 “Care to join me in my office for some coffee?” He asks.

 His office. The one he scored after he won the Kim Taehyung case. The bitter betrayal still lingers in your mouth. 

 For the longest time, you had been equal in every sense; both living in the dingy cubicles with the computers long-destined for retirement. Then, Seokjin awarded him with the corner office, the one with the view of the entire city. You’d never forgiven either of them.

 “I have my own coffee.”

 Namjoon smirks as he eyes your paper cup, clearly a quick grab from the 7-Eleven around the corner.

 “Looks fancy.”

 You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

 “Please,” he asks again. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

 Namjoon’s face loses its snark, and you’re curious about what could cause the man to become so serious.

 “Fine.”

 You motion with your arm towards his office, encouraging him to walk ahead. He smirks again, ah—there’s that smirk, before he turns and heads into the gorgeous corner room.

 He lingers by the door as you enter, waiting until you’ve crossed the threshold to close the door behind you. It surprises you. Something about being in a closed room with Namjoon sets you on edge. You can nearly imagine the man bending you over that fine oak desk, hiking your skirt up and spanking your ass until it’s red.

 “Coffee?” He asks as he moves towards the in-office espresso machine.

 “Are you fucking kidding me? You have a Nespresso in your office?” 

 All desperate and wanton thoughts of Namjoon sliding into you leave once you see the stainless steel contraption in the room's corner. Of course he has a $500 coffee machine in his office. He has everything you want.

 “You like it?” His question is cocky. He already knows the answer.

 “Fuck off.”

 Namjoon grins and turns the machine on, pulling out two mugs while you sip your now lukewarm coffee. It suddenly tastes disgusting.

 “So, what’s the deal, Namjoon?” You ask as he rests against the wall and waits for the coffee to brew. “You said it was important.”

 Namjoon nods, a more reserved look taking the place of his usual cocky grin on his face. His gaze turns down to his shiny dress shoes.

 “I need a favor.”

 “No.” Your answer is quick.

 Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

 “You haven’t even heard it yet!”

 “Yeah, well…,” you huff. “I’m not interested in helping you.”

 Namjoon leaves his post by his elaborate coffee maker, forgetting about the piping-hot liquid drizzling into white mugs, as he stands in front of you. There’s that fucking cologne again. Why does he have to smell so good?

 “You’ve got to help me. Please.”

 His sudden closeness to you sets your brain off—your steely resolve begins to crumble.

 “Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

 His face lights up again. God, he has such a handsome mouth.

 “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for my family Christmas party.”

 If you hadn’t had such a good grip on the convenience store cup of coffee, it’d surely drop from your clutch and splatter on the expensive carpet of Namjoon’s office.

 Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

 “You—You what?!”

 Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

 “Look, I…” he struggles. “I told my mom I have a girlfriend, so she’d get off my back about it.”

 “And why am I suddenly your best option for that?!” 

 You step away from the man, determined to clear your mind as the scenario weaves its way through your head. 

 Namjoon’s girlfriend. He wants you to be his girlfriend.

 Well, his fake girlfriend.

 He would hold your hand. He would kiss you. He would touch your body in ways you convince yourself you don’t think of often. 

 “You’re the only girl I know who’s got a good enough poker face to go along with it. And honestly… you’re the only girl I really know well enough.”

 His last admission shocks you. Namjoon seems like the womanizing type—one to bring a different girl home every night.

 “That doesn’t explain why the fuck I would want to help you.”

 Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

 “If you help me, I’ll take all your shitty cases that Jin is giving you.”

 Your eyes narrow at the tall man. It seems too good to be true.

 “How d'you know about them?”

 Namjoon shrugs and grabs a mug full of freshly brewed expensive coffee.

 “I can hear you complain to Jimin about it every day.”

 You grumble under your breath, sucking on your teeth as you try to process the terms of Namjoon’s deal.

 “So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for your family…” you muse.

 “Yes,” he agrees. “And I’ll do all your worst cases for the next 2 months. I’ll even give you my next big one. I know you want that.”

 God, he’s right. That’s all you want. A chance to prove yourself to Seokjin, to the company.

 With an aggravated sigh, you relent. 

 “Fine! But it better be a good fucking case. And, I’m using your coffee maker every morning.”

 Namjoon can’t help but chuckle, loving the fire in your voice. 

 “Deal?” He murmurs.

 He holds out his hand to shake on it, and it takes you by surprise how warm and soft his large hands are once you slide your own into his grip.  

 “Deal.”

 Jimin is not going to let you live this one down.

  Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

 He’s sitting on your couch, legs crossed underneath him as he hoists his wine glass filled to the brim. He holds it away from his body as he shakes with laughter.

 “You’re telling me,” he wheezes. “That you agreed to be Namjoon’s fake Christmas girlfriend? You hate that man!”

 Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

 “Yeah, well, it was my only option. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

 “Okay, Godfather,” Jimin snickers. “Lord knows you still want to bone that man, anyway.”

 “Jimin!” You admonish. “I do not! And that wasn’t the deal!”

 He sips at his red wine with an impish smile. You hate it when Jimin looks at you like that, like he can see behind the lie you’ve so carefully crafted of your hatred for Namjoon.

 “Then tell me, what was the deal?”

 You fiddle with the stem of your own wine glass, sighing.

 “He’s offered to take all our shitty personal injury suits for the next two months. And he’s giving me his next big case.”

 Jimin actually looks surprised—as if he didn’t expect Namjoon to provide a deal so worth the cost.

 “Wow,” he breathes.

 You nod in reply, taking a large gulp of the pinot grigio in your glass.

 “You’re still going to fuck him though, I know it,” Jimin adds.

 You splutter your wine from your mouth, hand reaching over to gently slap Jimin on his taut abdomen.

 “Shut up!” You cry.

 Jimin looks proud of himself, sipping his red wine gleefully while he settles further into your couch. Wine nights with Jimin is the highlight of your weeks. Together, you bitch over cases, coworkers, dating struggles, and eat too much cheese and cured meats and nurse a hangover the following day with brunch.

 “Hey,” you say to Jimin as you set your wine down on the coffee table. “Did you ever talk to Yoongi?”

 Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

 “Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

 “Oh my god,” you groan. “Yoongi from IT. You stole my phone to call him today? To ask about my new computer?”

 Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

 “Oh. Yes, I did.”

 “And?” You encourage the blonde to answer further.

 “And he’s doing well,” Jimin replies demurely.

 “Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

 Jimin makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth and bites his lip.

 “I… might have forgotten to ask.”

 Your mouth drops open.

 “You literally stole my phone out of my hands to call him! What did you talk about?!”

 There’s his blush again. The shade of pink on Jimin’s cheeks would be adorable if you weren’t so flabbergasted by his answers.

 “I have a date tomorrow night.” He takes another sip as you let the reply sink in.

 “Oh. My. God.” You gasp, a smile now overtaking your features. “You have a crush on Min Yoongi!”

 Jimin sets his wine glass down next to yours and turns to you.

 “I had no idea if he was into me! But when I called, I totally forgot why I was calling him and we sort of just… started talking and next thing I know, he’s asking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

 You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

 “You little slut—using my phone to get yourself a date. On company time!”

 Jimin sticks his tongue out at you, before grabbing a pillow and slapping you with the overstuffed cushion.

 “At least I didn’t agree to be his fake girlfriend!”

  It’s the sound of your phone ringing at 7:32 am that wakes you from your spot on the couch, wine glass still clutched in your hand.

 “What the fuck?” You grumble, eyes blearily seeking the offending object disturbing your sleep.

 Jimin grumbles next to you, kicking at your foot as if it will stop the phone from ringing.  

“Stop,” he whines and cuddles into his fetal position. “Turn it ooooff.”

 You locate your cell phone and groan as you recognize the name on the caller ID. Namjoon. What the fuck could he possibly be calling for? And why did he have to call at seven in the goddamn morning? 

 “What do you want?” You snap as you hold the phone to your cheek and throw yourself back onto the couch.

 “Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

 Namjoon’s voice, as sexy and sultry as it sounds, still aggravates you.

 “Why are you calling me? It’s Saturday. Its seven am.”

 Namjoon chuckles and you fight the shiver that works through your spine at the sound.

 “I tend to keep human hours on the weekend.”

 You can’t hold back the sarcastic guffaw that escapes you.  

 “Okay, Mr. Perfect,” you sigh. “That doesn’t explain calling me.”

 Jimin kicks at your foot again. 

 “Stop talking,” he grumbles.

 God, Jimin is such a diva when he’s hungover.

 “Meet me at the cafe on First Street,” Namjoon says casually. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

 “Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

 “I’m literally already here. Hurry before your coffee gets cold.”

 You let out a whine that could rival a 5-year-old’s temper tantrum.

 “Fuck you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

 There’s no care about your phone when you end the call and throw it to the floor.  Jimin grumbles and rubs at his eyes.

 “Why the fuck are you having phone sex with Namjoon so early in the morning?” He asks.

 “Jimin, I swear to God.”

 He wraps himself in the throw blanket and buries his face back into the couch while you stand and retreat to your bedroom to throw on some semblance of appropriate clothing for the occasion.

 “Fucking Namjoon,” you grumble under your breath as you change into jeans and a sweater. “Fuck him and his stupid, sexy face. And his unbelievable ass. And his stupid, probably enormous penis. Man, I hate him.”

 As you’re re-entering the living room and grabbing your important items (keys, wallet, lip gloss just in-case), Jimin pops his head out of his blanket cave.

 “Where are you going?” He asks, suddenly less annoyed and more pathetic. “You’re leaving me?”

 “I have to go meet Namjoon for coffee. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”

 “You’re really going to let me suffer here? Alone? With no coffee?”

 You spin around to face your best friend, who’s giving you an absolutely soul-crushing pout and puppy eyes.

 “Yes. Call Yoongi.”

 His precious pout is wiped away, and a devious smirk takes its place.

 “Great idea!” He says as he digs around for his phone. “Be careful out there! It’s icy! Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall on Namjoon’s dick.”

 Your only reply is one singular middle finger in Jimin’s direction as you exit your apartment.

  Namjoon can’t help but smile as he sips his warm coffee. The cafe is warm and bright, despite the chill outside. 

 Things feel peaceful. Tender flakes of snow trickle down outside and frost up the shop’s window. There’s something about this time of year that strikes him down to the core. Something cozy, something warm.

 It’s odd to think this will be his first year not celebrating the holiday alone.

 Even if it is... well, fake. 

 The bell over the door chimes an arrival, and Namjoon can tell by the grumbles and grunts and stomps of snowy boots that it’s you.

 “Over here!” He calls, raising a hand and turning to face you.

 Wow, he thinks. You look gorgeous, even without trying.

 You hurry your way over to the booth and plop yourself on the opposite side, immediately lunging for the obvious mug of coffee waiting for you on the table. You don’t waste a minute gulping the liquid down your throat, then spluttering when you realize it’s still hot.

 “I thought you said it was getting cold!” You cry, airing out your burnt tongue. Namjoon can’t help but imagine that tongue sliding up and down his cock.

 Not now. Wrong time and place to get a boner.

 Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino. 

 “I got you a fresh one.”

 You make a face, but your features soften. As if you’re pleased with the idea that Namjoon cared to freshen up your cup.

 “Oh, well--”, you manage. “Thank you.”

 Namjoon doesn’t reply, but merely tips his head. The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife. Normally, you’re both normally so wound up in aggravating the other that a moment of calm is strange, but not unwelcome.

 “So, why the early morning wake up?” You finally ask, fiddling with the handle of the mug.

 Namjoon settles his cup down.

 “We need to get to know each other. Deep shit, you know. The shit that lovers would know about each other.”

 He notices you, watches as you nibble at your lip. You try hard to hide it behind the mug you lift to your lips, but Namjoon notices. 

 “I’m hoping maybe we could spend the day together,” he adds. “I need to get some Christmas gifts for my family and… well, it’s rather lonely doing it on my own.”

 There’s a slight smile at the ends of your lips.

 “And you needed me at seven thirty in the morning to do that?”

 He stifles a laugh.

 “Like I said, I operate at regular human hours. Even on weekends,” he replies.

 With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

 “Fine,” you say. “I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”

 He watches as you settle into the seat of the booth, hands gripping the warm mug like it’s a personal heater. He notices you’re only wearing jeans and a sweater--no properly warm clothing for the snow storm ahead. He’ll have to fix that, and soon.  

 “What are you doing for Christmas?” He asks.

 You level a look.

 “Spending it pretending to be in love with you.”

 Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

 “I meant after that.”

 You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

 “I don’t like Christmas. I don’t do much other than force Jimin to kiss me under the mistletoe and watch shitty movies with a gallon of boxed wine.”

 “Hmm,” he hums. “You’re sort of a Grinch.”

 A scowl comes over your face.

 “I am not! I just don’t buy into this whole ‘prove how much you love me by buying me things’ shit. It’s a big scheme, I tell you! Capitalist propaganda! They encourage you to spend all your money, and if you don’t, they shame and guilt you by telling you you don’t love your family enough.”

 Namjoon can’t help but laugh as you rant. It’s what makes you such a talented lawyer—your ability to feel a passion so deep within you you’re able to convince a stone-faced jury of your side.

 “Don’t laugh at me!” You cry. “I’m serious! My family doesn’t celebrate, I don’t celebrate. I’d rather just buy gifts for my loved ones when I see something they’d like. Why do we have to put a time of year on it?”

 He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

 “I suppose that makes sense,” he muses. “But you’re still a Grinch. And a Scrooge. You’ll definitely get visited by some Ghosts at midnight.”

 “Ha ha,” you snark sarcastically. “Hilarious, Namjoon. Don’t tell me you’re a big festive guy.”

 “Somewhat. It’s my Mom’s favorite holiday. It’s why she’s so bent out of shape about me having a girlfriend. Something about family and love and shit.”

 You nod, understanding him completely. Your own mother, despite her reservations towards the holiday, still makes a fuss over your single status. There must be some Mom code to obsess over your children’s woeful dating life.

 “Well, I say let’s get on with it then. Ready to hit the shops?” He asks.

 You’re mid-sip of your finally cooled coffee and you send a desperate look to the man in front of you.

“Already?!”

 “We’re burning daylight, baby.”

 Namjoon stands and you can’t help but feel a roar of flames in your belly at the pet-name. Your cheeks are surely flaming up and you admonish yourself for getting so peaked about such a trivial name.

 “Please don’t tell me we’re walking,” you murmur as you sneak a peek outside.

 The snow is falling down harder now, and you’re dreadfully underdressed for the weather.

 Namjoon tsks at your lack of outerwear, but then shakes his head.

 “No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

 You roll your eyes and grimace.

 “Of course. You have a fucking Nespresso machine and a Range Rover. Asshole.”

 Namjoon doesn’t even think about it as he grabs your hand and laces his fingers in between yours. If anyone asked, he’d say it’s practice—to familiarize himself with the way your fingers slot between his own so it’s not such a foreign concept when he does it in front of his family.

 “Yeah, but I’m your asshole now, princess.”

 Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

 Normally, you dread the lines and the crowds and the confusion and the expense.

 But with Namjoon, you relax and banter away with the tall lawyer. You’re completely at ease as you walk through crowded aisles and sort through racks of cashmere sweaters and stacks of fuzzy blankets.

 “Mom will love this, don’t you think?” Namjoon asks, holding up a thick, exquisite looking blanket.

 You’re about to answer with an affirmative when you catch yourself. You don’t even know his mom. You’ve never met the woman. Why does it feel as if Namjoon is someone you’ve known your entire life? 

 Why do things feel so easy with him?

 “Sure, Namjoon,” you reply. “Seems like something most mother’s would be into.”

 He smiles at you. It’s a genuine smile too, one that nearly knocks you on your ass. Your body is sent into overdrive constantly. He holds your hand, he places his hand at the small of your back to guide you through a thick crowd. He calls you baby and princess and doll.

 It’s confusing.

 It’s amazing.

 You can’t tell if you love it or hate it.

 Namjoon pushes the shopping cart and walks beside you, chatting easily about his various aunts and uncles names that you likely must remember at some point but you just can’t think about anything but Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.

 You hate him. He stole that corner office from you. He’s going to take the promotion you want from right under your nose. He has a goddamn Nespresso in his office and a Range Rover. 

 And yet, you can’t help but fall in place next to him and listen to him tell stories of his childhood, weaving tales of uncles who snuck him his first sips of alcohol and aunts who spoil him rotten. He’s easy to listen to, a natural story-teller. Your body feels warm, as if you’re sitting on a large hearth by a roaring fire. He’s comforting.

 It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once. 

 “And that’s when my cousin Jungkook got caught smoking cigarettes. My grandma beat our ass so bad I couldn’t sit for a day.”

 Namjoon finishes his story and turns to look at you. You’ve been staring at the man for nearly a minute straight now.

 “Hey,” his voice is soft. “You listening?”

 You shake out of the trance Namjoon’s deep voice sends you into.

 “Yeah!” You reply with a smirk. “Sounds like this Jungkook is a guy I’d like to meet.”

 Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

 “Hey, you’re my girlfriend, remember.”

 You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

 “Fake girlfriend. I’m still a single, desirable lady at the end of the day.”

 Namjoon hesitates before answering. He wants to reply something snarky, something sarcastic and witty. But he takes a moment to pause, allows himself to fully immerse himself in you. Even hungover, in yesterday’s jeans and an old sweater, you’re still an absolute catch. You’re the definition of desirable and Namjoon can’t help but allow himself to desire.

 “Hmm, is that what you call it?” He asks, now allowing the sarcasm to permeate his words. “I was thinking you’re more of the spinster, cat-lady type.”

 “Hey!” You pout as you slap at his arm. “I’m allergic to cats!”

 “But you don’t deny being a spinster.”

 “Fuck you, Namjoon.”

 He grins and pushes the carts towards the candle aisle, a sure-fire gift for his aunties.

 “In due time, my love.”

  By the time Christmas Eve arrives, you’ve spent nearly every day with Namjoon. At work, he brings you fresh coffee from his Nespresso and buys you lunch. You’ve even landed his big case, an incredibly complex lawsuit that will showcase your skills. Namjoon gives you pointers and space to talk through the case with him.

Namjoon is, in fact, simply being kind. And it unsettles you.

 Your heart and brain are at war with each other constantly. You should hate him, loathe him. He’s going to nail that promotion regardless of what you prove to Seokjin.

 But your heart tells you he deserves it. He’s an incredible attorney and has earned every ounce of respect. You want Namjoon to get that promotion just to see that smile on his face. He’d do incredible things as Seokjin’s protege to take over the firm.

 You hate to admit it, but Namjoon has melted the ice around your heart. And you’re dreading the day after all this is over, because it will be the day Namjoon stops holding you close and pressing soft kisses to your temple. It will be the day he stops pretending this is all real.

 It’s Christmas Eve and you’re sitting in Namjoon’s expensive Range Rover, plush leather seat toasty from the built-in seat warmer. You can’t help but marvel at the way the oncoming headlights brighten up Namjoon’s features as he drives you down a snowy mountain lane. They always hold the Kim family holiday party at Namjoon’s late grandfather’s cabin in the mountains, a quiet getaway for the family to gather and spend the night together to wake up on Christmas morning and gather around for presents and food.

 Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

 It’s something you’ve dreamt of often, but denied yourself any actual possibility of it. Namjoon was always out of reach, and it was easier to hate him for his success he rightfully deserved than it was to admit the feelings that were always inside.

 And now, although it’s artificial, you can’t bear to think of not spending your time with Namjoon anymore.

 You steal a glance again at him, and smile as you hear his faint humming. He loves Christmas music. You learned that early in the week during another early morning coffee and ‘get to know you’ before work. Namjoon couldn’t stop singing Mariah Carey’s classic pop song under his breath as it played over the speakers in the cafe. 

 “It’s so pretty up here,” you muse as you force your vision away from Namjoon’s gorgeous face to the snowy scenery outside. 

 The snow is falling gently, not enough to cause a blizzard but enough to make it seem like you’re trapped in a picturesque snow-globe. Leaving the city and entering the magical forest stirs an emotion inside you you hadn’t felt in some time.

 It’s Christmas Eve and there’s just something magical.

 Ugh. Unbelievable.

 Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

 He nods. “Yeah, it’s my favorite place in the world, I think.”

 “I can see why,” you sigh. “It looks like a painting.”

 Namjoon glances over at you peering through the window. His heart hammers in his chest hard as your glittering eyes bounce around from tree to tree, a pretty smile on your face. The diamond ring in his pocket feels like it weighs a literal ton and he nibbles at his lip.

 He bought it for the showmanship of it all, initially. It was his first purchase he made when he set up this whole rouse.

 But now, it feels real. It feels like he’s really about to get on one knee and ask you, the girl he’s absolutely head over heels for, to marry him.

 And then it will be over.

 He’ll make up some story to tell his mom about how it didn’t work out and you’ll go back to being his coworker, and nothing more.

 Namjoon can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach.

 Nothing more.

 He pulls into the driveway before you even have time to realize you’re there. He puts the car in park and smiles over at you. 

 He looks so cute in his puffy winter coat, hair pushed to the side and a smile that’s all dimples and cheeks.

 Fuck.

 “We’re here,” he whispers. “You ready?”

 Suddenly, the nerves of meeting your fake boyfriend’s entire family slap you right in the face. You hope that you’re a good enough actress to get Namjoon through the night and into the morning.

 “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 He nods and squeezes your hand, an unspoken comforting ‘I got you’.

 Namjoon gathers his wrapped gifts and stacks them all in his arms, ignoring your pleas and giggles to help carry them in.

 “No, no,” he assures. “I have to make sure my mom sees me being manly and helpful.”

 As if on cue, the front door opens and Mrs. Kim is bursting out into the snowy night.

 “Namjoon!” She shrieks, completely overjoyed. The rest of the family is standing by the door, eyeing you carefully with smiles and whispers. You pray to whatever Christmas God that’s listening that you can do this.

 Namjoon sets the pile of gifts down just in time to wrap his delicate and tiny mother in his arms, hugging her tightly while she gleefully buries her face into her tall son’s chest.

 “Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

 Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

 “Missed you too, eomma.”

 The scene has you misty-eyed and you swipe at your eyes to stop the tears. There’s no way you’re ruining the fantastic makeup you did for the occasion, but the reunion of Namjoon and his mother is heart-warming. He clearly cares for his mother more than he would outwardly admit. 

 Namjoon and his mother unwrap from each other and Namjoon turns towards you.

 “Everyone, this is ____,” he breathes. “My girlfriend.”

 His mother’s gleeful squeals now turn to you, and within an instant she’s gathering you up in just as tight of a hug as she did to her son.

 “Oh, darling, we are so happy to meet you,” she beams.

 The excitement in her voice makes you feel bad—like you’re conning an old woman out of her retirement. You’re instilling a sense of hope in the kind woman, and you can’t help but send Namjoon a look as you wrap your arms around her and return the embrace. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t read.

 “I’m happy to meet you too,” you smile as you pull apart. “Thank you for letting me come.”

 “No thanks necessary,” she admonishes with a wink. “We had to beg Namjoon to bring you. It seems he wants to keep you all to himself.”

 “Eomma!” Namjoon snaps. “Be appropriate!”

 She nudges you with her elbow knowingly, which makes your cheeks flame hot, before she leads the way back into the house.

 “Come in, come in! Let’s get out of this snow.”

 Namjoon encourages you to step inside with a gentle hand at the small of your back—a touch that makes your body light up brighter than a Christmas tree.

 “Thank you,” he whispers in your ear from behind. You can feel the warmth of his lips and your body reacts.

How is it that any simple act makes you desperately horny for the man? You pray for some respite from your sexual frustration over the next day. How are you going to last over 24 hours?

 Namjoon deposits his massive haul of gifts under the tree and returns to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to bring you close. He introduces you to uncles and aunts and cousins. He even introduces you to his infamous cousin, Jungkook, who smirks at you in a way that makes Namjoon pull you in closer to his body.

 “Are you doing okay?” Namjoon finally asks after the rush of relatives greeting you dies down. He turns you towards him, to face him directly with his hands on either of your shoulders. “You’re killing it.”

 You can’t help but smile. Namjoon’s family is all incredibly kind and funny. They welcome you into the family with ease and it chips away a little more each time at your heart.

 Because this is all fake. 

 One day, Namjoon really will have a girlfriend to bring to Christmas and to show off to his relatives and it won’t be you. You’ll be back at your apartment, watching shitty TV re-runs and binging on Chinese takeout, as you do every year. It’s a jab at your heart each time the bitter truth rears its ugly head.

 “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

 “Look!” Jungkook shouts. “They’re standing under the mistletoe!”

 Namjoon blushes a shade of red that likely matches a blush on your own cheeks. Sure enough, the green branches of the mistletoe taunt you from above. 

 You’ve never kissed Namjoon before. In all the skinship and closeness of the last week, you’ve still yet to close the gap to kissing the man. 

 “Oh, come on Kook, that’s a stupid tradition,” Namjoon murmurs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

 Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

 “Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’d be more than happy to take your place.”

 Jungkook wraps a loose arm around you and gives you a charming smile. He must be very popular with the ladies, you think. That’s a charming smile.

 “Hey!” Namjoon grabs for your hand and tugs you out of Jungkook’s predatory gaze. “She’s my girlfriend.”

 Namjoon looks at you for a moment, assessing your comfort level with everything about to take place. His lips look so inviting, so plush and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on the way his lips pucker so gently and naturally.

 And then it happens. Namjoon lowers his face towards you and it feels as if the world is in slow-motion. It’s happening.

 The first press of his lips is soft and conservative. You take a split second to register, but instinctively you press against his lips with determination and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

 He groans softly as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. His hands grip at your waist and bring your body flush against his. You can feel his cock twitching and rising from the kiss that’s gone from innocent and playful to passionate and deep. It feels like the world around you has stopped and the only thing that matters is Namjoon, his mouth, his body against your own. He tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint, and you want more, more.

 “Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook’s voice shatters your illusion of being all alone with Namjoon. “Now you’re just showing off.”

 Namjoon pulls away from you, eyes dazed as he tries to right himself. 

 “You two are just so perfect for each other,” Namjoon’s mother says, who’s suddenly appeared in Jungkook’s place. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

 “Oh, we’re sharing?” You ask without thought. It’s a large house, with ample bedrooms surely for you to have your own space.

 Namjoon nudges you in the ribs gently, eyes widening and mouthing a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’ 

 “Of course dear, don’t be silly,” his mother replies with an eyebrow waggle and a chuckle. “I remember when your father and I were dating. He would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and keep me up all night long. Your grandfather would ask me if I had terrible dreams that night, because I looked so tired.”

 Namjoon makes a face. “Eomma, please,” he begs. “Please don’t talk about my parents like that.”

 As his mother guides you down a long hallway, your mind is whirring with too many thoughts of Namjoon, of sharing a bedroom with Namjoon, of seeing his sleeping face and waking up next to him. It’s all too much, too overwhelming. You pray there’s a couch in the room you could sleep on, because you’re far too weak and you’d rather fight the desperation in your body than face the fact that you want nothing more than to curl right into Namjoon’s strong arms and let him hold you all night to sleep.

 Fuck.

 “Here we are!” 

 His mother opens the door with grace, and flicks on the light. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. A king sized bed, a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the sprawling snowy scene outside. It’s cozy and warm and decorated with its own Christmas tree.

 “Wow,” is all you can muster.

 “Aish, Mom,” Namjoon sighs as he drops his bags. “You didn’t need to do all of this for us.”

 Mrs. Kim holds his hand in both of hers. “Well, I know how special this Christmas is going to be,” she winks. “I want you to enjoy your time here. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Dinner is in an hour, so ‘freshen up’!”

Another wink, and Namjoon makes another face. She definitely wants grandchildren, that much is for certain.

 She closes the door behind her and you’re left standing in the room, overnight bag in hand.

 “This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

 You’ve never experienced Christmas like this—with decorations and warmth and family. It’s as if the love of the Kim family permeates the very walls of the expansive cabin, like it’s built into the foundation itself. For a moment, you allow yourself to soak it all in. This is all yours. It’s your Christmas and you finally understand why so many make such a fuss over it. The results are nothing short of remarkable.

 “Yeah, she really does the most,” Namjoon laughs. 

 He takes the bag from your hand without your notice and you step towards the balcony to peer into the night. The landscape looks as if everything has been covered in soft marshmallow. The snow is untouched—picture perfect.

 “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

 Namjoon settles your bag and his on the bed, watching as you soak in your own wonder. The smile on your face is not one he sees often, one of pure joy. Namjoon swallows hard as he realizes he wants to be the one to always put that smile on your face.

 “Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

 You turn from the still-life view outside and back to Namjoon, where he stands at the foot of the bed. He looks so different outside the office. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, his puffy jacket hanging by the door. No cream suit, no slicked back hair or shoes shiny enough to see your reflection. Just simply Namjoon.

 He’s no longer the man who steals the limelight in the office. He’s no longer the man you see as your adversary or your rival.

 He’s the man who’s showing you the magic of Christmas, the spirit of love and kindness that embodies the season.

 He’s the man you’ve fallen in love with.

 And yet, he’s the man who will leave once this is over and return to his proper life, and you to yours. He’ll return to sleeping with models and movie starlets, and you’ll return to binge watching Great British Bake-Off with Jimin and a carton of Chicken Tikka Masala.

 And Christmas will never feel as special as it does now. 

 So, you’re determined to soak in it for a little longer. It’s going to hurt regardless, so why not push that hurt off until tomorrow and allow yourself to pretend you live the lie you’re spinning for Namjoon’s family?

 “I think I’ll just freshen up and change into my dinner outfit, then?” You ask out loud, grabbing for your overnight bag and heading towards the ensuite.

 Namjoon, who expected a witty retort, takes a moment to reply.

 “Oh,” he coughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll err—, I’ll just get ready out here.”

 You quickly escape into the bathroom, closing the door and resting on it as you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

 The tension in the bedroom with Namjoon was too thick, too powerful, especially after the kiss you just shared. His cock had been there, straining in his jeans as you licked into his mouth. The kiss felt so natural, as if you had always kissed Namjoon like that. Your heart beats loud and hard in your chest just from the thought of it.

 You really needed to get a handle over yourself. You still have dinner to get through, and an entire night in a bedroom with Namjoon. A bed with Namjoon.

 No, you won’t allow yourself to go that far. You can pretend you’re his girlfriend, but all thoughts of his delectable body doing scintillating things to yours is strictly off-limits. You shake all thoughts of a thick, heavy cock sliding into your mouth and warm hands spreading you open, and set about fixing your makeup and changing into the gorgeous cocktail dress you purchased for the occasion. It wasn’t often you got to get dressed up. The emerald green velvet dress clings to your body and highlights your curves. It’s a sexy dress, definitely, but also appropriate for a formal evening with your boyfriend’s parents.

 Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

 After fixing your hair and buckling your heels, you take one last glimpse in the mirror for good luck and exit the room.

 Your breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you see Namjoon. 

You’ve seen him dressed up for court and for TV appearances millions of times, but you’ve never seen him like this.

 He wears a blood red button up without a tie, a few buttons open to emphasize the casual look, tucked into the tightest and sexiest slacks you’ve ever seen. They hug his thighs and sit at a spot on his waist that you just know is rippling with cut lines from his work in the gym. His hair is tucked back with a bit of hairspray, and he’s fixing the sleeves of his shirt when he sees you.

 His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides as he soaks in your appearance.

 An absolute vision.

 He can see the gentle valley between your breasts and the way your dress pushes up your cleavage and displays your collar.  The dress follows the delicate curve of your waist and hips and ends at your knee, but teases him with a glimpse of thigh that has him wiping his mouth in case he’s drooling. 

 “You look incredible,” Namjoon murmurs as you step closer.

“So do you.”

 You swallow hard as he continues closer to you, breathing harshly as he stands right in front of you. You could reach out and unbuckle his expensive slacks and fist his cock right there. You’d fall on your knees for him, if he asked.

 There’s a moment of silence as Namjoon’s face inches closer and closer to your own, each unable to verbalize just how desperate either of you feel for the other.

 “Namjoon, I—,” you start. You want to tell him. You want to tell him everything—that you don’t want this to be fake, that you want this to be real, and you want to be his and his forever.

 “Yes?”

 You swallow hard, shaken by just how close his lips are to yours. He’s inches away and all you can focus on is the way his plush lips look and how well they fit against your own under the mistletoe.

 “I just—, I really um, I’m just very…” 

 You’re not making sense. Comprehension of language is quickly soaring out the window because the only words you know are ‘Please, for the love of God, kiss me and make me yours’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak them out loud.

 Namjoon’s hand cups your cheek, as if he can tell what you’re trying to say.

 “Yeah,” he breathes. The inches between you turn to centimeters, to bare millimeters. Your eyes flutter close as you feel his breath dance over your lips and your heart beats so loud you’re sure the entire household can hear it. He’s right there and moves in to close the distance—

 “Knock Knock!!”

 The forceful, cheery voice of cousin Jungkook forces both of you to jump away from each other as if you’ve touched a burning stove. Your head feels light, like you’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes and you’ve suddenly taken in too much air.

 The wooden door squeaks open and Jungkook pokes his head in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

 “Auntie sent me to get you. It’s dinnertime!”

 Namjoon rubs his face frustratedly. “Yes, thank you, Jungkook.”

 Jungkook doesn’t leave, however. He smiles at you and winks. 

“Would you like an escort to dinner, madame? You look tastier than the roast beef downstairs.”

 A blush creeps over your cheeks as Namjoon storms to the door where his cousin laughs.

 “That’s enough, Kook. We’ll be down in a minute.”

 He sends you one more grin, then retreats from the door and closes it behind him.

 “Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologizes. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for—Jungkook, or the moment before.

 “It’s alright. Let’s go?”

 Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

 “Let’s go, girlfriend.”

  Dinner with the Kim family is as delightful as every other interaction with them has been. They’re polite and funny and ask questions about your life and your family.

 They ask how you met Namjoon (at work), what your favorite quality about him is (his smile and his ass), and what your first date together was (coffee at seven in the morning).

 You tell stories of Namjoon in the office, of your best friend Park Jimin who’s secretly trying to date the IT manager, of your parents and Christmases past.

 By the time dessert is served, Namjoon’s mother looks at you as if you’ve put the very stars in the sky.

 Namjoon doesn’t miss that look either. He can see the way his family is falling in love with you and somewhere deep in his stomach, he feels the guilt rising. All of this is a lie. Not only is he going to break his own heart, but every heart of his family member’s too. 

 “We’re all just so overjoyed that Namjoon has found someone to share his life with,” his mom speaks softly. It’s the first time she’s been thoughtful and quiet. She’s a woman who’s larger than life, you’ve found, so the softness in her tone strikes a chord. “You’re absolutely perfect for him. I’ve never seen him happier.”

 Fuck. 

 “Thank you,” you murmur sincerely to his mother. “I’ve never been happier.”

 Namjoon peers up from where he’s been pushing around his uncle’s famous chocolate cake on his plate to watch as you speak.

 “Truthfully, I never cared much for Christmas. I thought it was a rubbish holiday and spent it alone every year with a bottle of wine and some takeout. Namjoon really changed that for me,” you smile at the man and place your hand in his lap to hold his free hand. “He showed me more about Christmas in one week than I’ve felt in my entire life.”

 Namjoon’s mom wipes away an errant tear and he squeezes your hand under the table.

 “I guess the Grinch’s heart has grown 3 sizes, after all.”

 Namjoon’s joke lightens the soft mood, and suddenly there’s chatter around as the family members move about to wash dishes and clean up the mess of dinner. Everyone leaves the table except for you and Namjoon.

 “That was some good acting,” he whispers with a sad smile.

 “Right,” you whisper back, nibbling your lip anxiously. “Acting, of course.”

  You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

 Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

 And sharing a bed is another.

 And of course, the only pajamas you thought to bring tonight is a very sexy long shirt that says “no coffee, no talking” with a bedazzled pair of shushing lips. That’s it. Just a single shirt. Not even a pair of shorts or pajama pants.

 You slip into the bed first, as far onto one side of it as possible. It’s a king sized bed, and it still feels too intimate, too close.

 Namjoon exits the bathroom after his shower, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajamas, leaving his bare chest on display.

 Sweet lord in heaven, you nearly cry out loud. He’s absolutely ripped, pecs defined and droplets of water from his hair streaming down. You want to chase each drop with your tongue and circle back again. You shut your eyes tight and clench your teeth. Why, oh why, does he have to look so fucking sexy at a time like this?

 Namjoon sees you at the edge of the bed, shutting your eyes closed like you’re a shy schoolgirl afraid to see a naked man’s body. He feels guilty for making you be here. He knows you’ve likely got better things to do than spend time with a man you openly hate.

 “I’m sorry,” he apologizes for nothing in particular. 

 You ignore it. Instead, you’re trying to think of every un-sexy thing in the world you can possibly imagine. Taxes, a bunch of bees, old people, shark attacks.

 There’s absolutely nothing that can stop the image of Namjoon’s perfectly sculpted body from bursting into your mind. You’re nearly pleading with yourself to just go to sleep and contemplate how hard you’d need to hit your head to knock yourself out as fast as possible.

 “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says as he grabs a small throw blanket from the closet and throws it to the ground by the fire.

 It snaps you from your musings of how best to forget how badly you want to suck Namjoon’s cock through his pajama pants.

 “What?” You sit up in the posh bed and finally make eye-contact. “Why? It’s freezing. There’s a literal snowstorm outside.” You motion to the window of the balcony. What was once a gentle snowfall is now a full-on winter storm.

 “There’s a fire. I’ll be fine, I sleep hot anyway.” Namjoon’s voice is low and without energy. He almost sounds sad.

 God, is being with you that hard for him? You know you’re just the artificial replacement until he has the real thing, but you’d actually hoped Namjoon had found it as comforting and warm as you had.

 “Namjoon,” you sigh. “This is a king-sized bed. You don’t need to be waking up with back pain because you gallantly slept on the floor.”

 To emphasize your point, you tug back the blankets on the other side, beckoning him to join.

 He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s weighing the pro’s and con’s and sliding into bed next to you in his mind, then stands and pads his way on the plush carpet towards the bed and slips in.

 There’s an entire football field of distance between you two in the bed, but it feels like he’s right beside you. You imagine sliding in right next to him, wrapping your arms around his taut chest and pressing soft kisses to his stomach.

 You squeeze your eyes closed again. Stop it, you horny slut.

 “Thank you, again.” Namjoon breaks the silence. “I really appreciate you helping me out.”

 “Yeah,” you swallow hard. “Of course. What else was I going to do? Jimin’s probably sucking Yoongi’s dick right now, so I’d be watching baking shows alone.”

 Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

 “You know, I don’t even really want that promotion at work.”

 You’re surprised by the sudden change in topic, but you turn over to face Namjoon.

“What?! Really?”

 Namjoon nods and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m that good of an attorney to get it, anyway.”

 His statement makes you sit up in bed again, staring at the man in disbelief.

 “Are you fucking kidding me, Namjoon? You’re the best lawyer in the firm.”

 Namjoon says nothing, just turns to stare at you curiously as you continue.

 “You’re like… literally better than Seokjin, too. The way you handled the Taehyung case was nothing short of historical. Like, that was an impossible case, and you nailed it. That was your ‘OJ’ case, you know?”

 Namjoon barks a laugh.

 “My what?”

 “Your OJ case!” You use your hands to emphasize the importance of what you’re saying. “Like, they’ll write about you and how impossible the odds were of winning that case. And you won it! Not even Seokjin could have won that case.”

 He’s silent again, watching as you speak directly from your heart with all the fire and passion you feel about the things you care about. It’s what makes you such an incredible lawyer, too.

 “Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

 You settle back down from your excitement, suddenly bashful at how fanatical you became.  

 “You’re welcome,” you murmur. “You deserve that promotion. And the office.”

 Namjoon smirks.

 “And the Nespresso?”

 Your eyes narrow and send a glare to him he can see even with the faintest of light in the room.

 “No, no one deserves the Nespresso, except for me.”

 He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

 “Goodnight,” he whispers.

 “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

 There’s a beat of silence and your eyes flutter shut easily. It’s quiet, and all you can hear is the crackle of the log in the fireplace and the wind blowing past the balcony windows as the storm outside rages.

 “Oh,” Namjoon whispers again. “And, Merry Christmas.”

 You can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

 “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

  “Happy Christmas!” A voice bellows through your bedroom at approximately seven fifteen am.

 You groan, immediately grimacing and burying your face into your firm, warm pillow.

 “Nooooo,” you whine, trying to hide from the offending noise.

 Namjoon shakes awake, and notices Jungkook standing at the bedroom door once again.

“It’s time for presents!” He giddily explains. “And, they gave me the job of waking you two up.”

 “Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

 “You look a little wrapped up,” Jungkook smirks, eyeing your sleeping body. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t get distracted.”

 Namjoon rolls his eyes and watches as the door closes, before he turns his attention towards you.

 Somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve scooched yourself to his side of the bed and draped your body around his. Your face is buried in his chest and your legs are haphazardly intertwined in his own.

 He bites his lip. His cock is rock solid, not just from his usual morning wood, but from the way he can feel your tits through your shirt, and from the sight of your pink panties. Namjoon wants to take them off with his teeth and bury his face in your delicious cunt, and his cock is nearly screaming at him to get on with it.

 “Hey,” he whispers to you, actively ignoring the demon that is his turgid length. “Wake up.”

 This causes you to cling harder to his chest, rubbing your sleepy face on him.

 “What is it with you and early mornings?” You ask, blearily raising your head to peer at him judgementally.

 Namjoon bites his lip, curious about your reaction to the tight embrace you’ve got on him. He doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to break the spell. Frankly, he wants to push your sleep shirt up and stuff you full of his cum.

 “Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

 You take a full minute to recognize what’s happening.

 You’re no longer on your edge of the bed. You’re wrapped around the man like a koala, legs strewn over him without care and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.

 “Oh!” You gasp as you jerk out of his grasp. 

 In your movement, your leg brushes over an obvious tent in Namjoon’s pants, making him groan softly. You shut your eyes, embarrassed at how disgustingly horny you are for the man who’s not even interested in you sexually.

 “Christ, I’m so sorry,” your cheeks flame bright red and you scoot further from him.

 “No, no, don’t be,” Namjoon wheezes as he tries to fix himself. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. It’s great. It happens. Don’t worry.”

 He continues to stammer out reassurances as he leaves the bed and bolts into the bathroom to fix his unruly tented pants, leaving you sitting atop the bed washed with shame.

 “Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you rub at your cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself.”

 Inside the bathroom, it only takes Namjoon a few fisted jerks of his cock and the mental image of you beneath him, begging for him, until he’s silently cumming on an expensive towel. He bites his free hand to stifle the moans he makes as his cock pulses.

 By the time he arrives back in the bedroom, you’ve changed into a hoodie and yoga leggings that accentuate your ass so delectably that Namjoon thinks about turning right back into the bathroom for a second round.

 “I’m sorry!” You nearly shout when he walks into the room. “About the bed. You were warm and I was cold. That’s all.”

 Nmajoon simply nods, doesn’t want to have to explain how he wishes he could wake up like that every day. Doesn’t want to describe in vivid detail how he’d wake you up with his tongue buried deep in your cunt.

 “Let me grab a shirt and we’ll head out, yeah?”

 Your eyes dance over the defined ridges of his body, a little crest-fallen at the idea that this might be the last time you see him shirtless, but you nod anyway.

 “Yeah.”

The ring box sits in a deceptively large box beneath the tree. Namjoon wrapped it last night and hide it at the very back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as his family passes around gifts and opens each with squeals of delight.

 His mother gave him new ties for the office, ones that Namjoon prefers. She’s even gifted you with jewelry, which makes your eyes water at the sentiment.

 It all begins to be too much. It’s harder and harder to hold back the tears as each of Namjoon’s family members gives you gifts. It doesn’t matter the value, not at all. The fact that they specifically set out to include you in their gift-unwrapping makes your heart snap in two.

 This is all too much, it’s too real.

 It’s everything you never dreamed you could have. A loving partner who lets you sit in the space of his legs and rubs your arms soothingly. A family who goes out of their way to include you in the abundance of love and company. A cabin so warm and cozy.

 The tears don’t stop.

 It’s at the end of the gift exchange that you finally allow yourself to breathe. 

 “There’s one more,” Namjoon whispers as he moves from behind you and fetches a large box from behind the tree. “It’s for you, princess.”

 Curiously, and suspiciously, you eye him as he sets the enormous gift in your lap. You had done nearly all his Christmas shopping with him, and can’t remember a single thing he would have gotten for you.

 “I hope it’s the Nespresso from your office,” you snark with a smile. His family members all laugh and exchange knowing looks to each other.

 Namjoon doesn’t think he can breathe. He watches as you begin to carefully unwrap the large box, which reveals another box, slightly smaller. He can’t help but grin as you continue to unwrap the nesting-doll style gift until you’re down to the smallest one, the one that holds the ring box.

 With one last tear of paper, your eyes widen as you recognize the velvet box.

 “Oh--,” you breathe as you delicately pry open the gift.

 Inside sits a dazzling and gorgeous diamond ring. It catches the light from the fire and sparkles like a firecracker.

 “Oh my god,” you whimper as the tears flow again.

 He’s proposing.

 Namjoon settles himself onto one knee and tucks an errant piece of hair behind your ears.

 “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew from day one that you were always the girl I wanted to marry,”

 Namjoon’s speech sends daggers to your heart. He’s so convincing for something so counterfeit. 

 “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, much longer than we’ve been together. You’re who I want to come home to every night, and who I want to wake up with every morning.”

 It hurts. It hurts so badly that you’re crying even harder as he continues to speak. His family must think you’re simply overcome with emotion and love that the crying doesn’t give it away, but inside you’re absolutely dying.

 There’s no way you can recover from this.

 Tomorrow, Namjoon will take the ring back to where he got it from and return to what he had before. He’ll leave you behind, broken and hopelessly in love with a man who faked a relationship so well that you fell for it, hard.

 “____, will you marry me?”

 You take several large, gulping gasps to reply. You can’t shatter the illusion. Namjoon’s parents are weeping with joy, while his relatives record the moment on their phones and wipe away errant tears. Even Jungkook looks soft, proud of his cousin for taking the next step in his life.

 Oh, how you wish this were all real.

 “Yes,” you lie with a smile. “Yes, Namjoon, of course!”

 Namjoon grins and pulls you to standing, gathering you in his arms as he hugs you tight. His family cheers and hollers in the background, and you sob into his shoulder as you cling to him.

 He easily slides the diamond ring out of the box and onto your finger, where it sits and taunts you. The weight is heavy, and you whimper at the realization that this will never be for you. It will sit atop a pretty model’s finger sometime soon, when Namjoon resumes his regular life.

 “Oh, my darlings, I am so happy for you!” Namjoon’s mother appears and wraps you both in a hug, weeping and kissing cheeks. “We must discuss planning!”

 It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The tears and weeping turn to wracking sobs, which quiets the family as they watch you hold your face in your hands.

 “I’m sorry,” you apologize through your grief. “I—I just need a moment.”

 Without another word, you turn from the scene and bolt back towards the bedroom.

 It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks. 

 This must be too much for you, too much for you to pretend to love him. He knew it was too much and he should have discussed it with you beforehand.

 “She’s just a little err--,” Namjoon tries. “Easily emotional. I’ll go check on her.”

 His family understands as Namjoon hurries towards the bedroom and gently opens the door.

 You’re sitting over your overnight bag, trying to shove any clothing into it you can, while you sob openly.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should have told you. I sort of... told my mom I’d be proposing to my girlfriend.”

 There’s pain in your eyes as you snap your head up to look at him. It nearly destroys him.

 “You should have warned me!” You gasp. “Namjoon, I can’t do this.”

 Namjoon lowers his head and shoves his hands into his pockets of his pajama pants.

 “I get it. I know you want to go back to your regular life. I can take you home now.”

 You’re silent for a moment, standing and moving towards the man.

 “Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

 He raises his head to look at you curiously, brow knitted together with confusion.

 “I’m in love with you, you asshole!” You cry, pushing at his chest. “I can’t continue to pretend this is real anymore. I love you, I absolutely love you and I can’t go on watching you pretend you love me too. It’s too much for me to handle.”

 Namjoon’s world freezes in time as he watches you slide the ring off your finger. He grasps your hand to stop you, his eyes boring into your own.

 “I never had to pretend.”

 Before you can speak, Namjoon cups your cheek and pulls you in close, mouth sealing over your own in a desperate kiss.

 You don’t fight it, not at all. You sink into his grasp and kiss him back with fervor, with all the pent-up emotions you’ve held back all this time.

 “I’m in love with you,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “I meant every single word I said.”

 More tears stream down your cheeks, and Namjoon is quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

 “I know it’s maybe too soon for us to really be engaged, but I—I want that, with you,” he adds. “I want you to be my girlfriend… for real.”

 “Are you being serious right now?” You ask as your hands cling to Namjoon’s waist.

 He can’t help but to laugh, nodding in reassurance as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

 “Never been more serious in my life.”

 “I can’t believe you’re mine,” Joon murmurs into the nape of your neck.

 You were supposed to be driving home to your apartment now, back to real life, but the snowstorm raged on and Namjoon decided it might be best to spend yet another night in the cabin. Together. As a couple. A real couple.

 You didn’t put up much of a fight.

 He’s pressing soft kisses into your tender skin as he closes the door to the bedroom.

  “All mine, all mine.” He chants it like a mantra. 

 You’re trying to maneuver your way into the dark bedroom, only guided by the light from the fireplace. Namjoon stops you and pulls away from your neck, eyes soaking in every inch of you.

 “You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do to you,” he speaks after a moment of appreciating your beauty.

 “Hmm, I think I have some idea,” you say, a finger at Namjoon’s chest, directing him towards the bed. “I’ve been dying to suck your cock, Joon,” you whisper in his ear as he makes his way backwards. “Will you let me?”

 Namjoon nods in a daze as he sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you kneel. Your eyes are full of hope, full of lust. It makes his cock harden further.

 “Please do,” he breathes. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your mouth full of my dick.”

 You smile as you tug at his flannel pajama pants, pulling them down thick thighs and calves until they’re completely off. Your mouth waters at the sight before you. Namjoon’s cock is thick, head weeping with pre-cum and straining hard against his taut chest. He’s been working out more, you can tell. His arms are full and strong, and his chest is so firm and defined. 

 He’s an entire three-course meal.

 Before you move closer to his cock, Namjoon stops you.

 “Take your shirt off.”

 You comply easily, already settling well into an obedient role. He discards the shirt to the side and marvels at your breasts. He can’t wait to mark them up, suck them until you’re crying.

 “Perfect,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

 He allows you to resume your work, eyeing the length of his cock before wrapping a hand around it and gently pumping.

 “Shit,” he breathes as his head falls back. “I’ve dreamt about how it’d feel having my cock in your hands.”

 “What else have you dreamed about?” You ask with a teasing smile, bringing your lips to the tip to paint tiny stripes. He tastes salty, somewhat earthy, and the pre-cum that’s gathered at the top gets swept up by your tongue. 

 Namjoon can’t believe how lucky he is. Can’t believe how incredible it feels to have you here, licking at his cock like a lollipop. He’s enchanted by the way your delicate tongue swirls around his head, testing and teasing.

 “You look so good, princess,” he whispers as he tucks stray hair behind your ears. 

 You’re encouraged by his sweet-talk and soon descend to take his cock fully in as far as you can go. You’re definitely out of practice, but you steel yourself up to take him completely to the back of your throat. Namjoon’s desperate moans and cursing only encourages you further.

 Soon enough, you’ve started a rhythm of bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and pumping your hand down his thick length. The noises leaving your mouth are sinful—slurping and sucking and whining around him. Namjoon’s got a hand on the back of your head, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and coaxing your bouncing head further down his cock.

 “Oh, shit, baby,” he grits through a tight jaw. “I’m gonna cum baby girl, fuuuuckkk—oh god, yes baby, just like that.”

 You slurp and swallow around his cock as much as you can, head bobbing at a frantic pace while you cast your eyes upwards to the man to watch him come apart. He meets your eye contact and loses it at the fire burning in your beautiful eyes.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps as his cock pulses. “Cumming, baby—ohhhh, shit, take it all, baby.”

 After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

 When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

 “You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

 You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

 “Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

 Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

 His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

 “Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

 It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

 “P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

 He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

 “I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can. 

 You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

 “Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

 “This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

 You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

 “Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

 “Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

 He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

 Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

 “That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

 He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

 “Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

 Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

 “You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

 The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

 “Why don’t we practice right now?”

 Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

 “Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

 In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

 “Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

 Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

 “Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

 It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

 “That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

 Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace. 

 He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

 “Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

 His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

 “G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

 Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

 “Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

 Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

 Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release. 

 “Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath. 

 Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

 He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

 “Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

 Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

 “Yeah,” is all he can manage.

 After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

 “If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

 Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

 “I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

 Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

 Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

 He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

 “What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

 As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

 A Nespresso.

 A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

 Inside, the card is simple.

 “To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

taglist - @ardoren​ @devilion14​ @bykookie​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @holynamtiddies​ @thejooncrew​ @dee-ehn​ @yrc1963 @fireheart2003​

#bts smut #bts fanfic #kim namjoon smut #rm smut #namjoon smut #ficswithluv #rockin around the christmas tropes #bts imagines #bts reactions #kim namjoon imagines

[heejojo]

sunghoon crush au

a/n: I couldn't comeup w a title. I hope you like it and have a good day. pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader. warnings: none. wc: 2k not proofread. taglist: @baekhyunstruly @uhhyamaguchi @soobin-choi

Park Sunghoon has a routine and doesn’t like to break it. He takes his vitamins at 8 am every day because that’s the time his body accepts it best. He does his skincare in the right order and hardly changes it in case his skin breaks out. And heaven knows he loves himself too much for that to happen.

What Sunghoon doesn’t understand though is this; why his heart suddenly beats faster when you’re in the room. He doesn’t get why he has a warm feeling in his chest when he hears your laugh. It doesn’t sound elegant in the slightest but he can’t help it when he listens to it. He feels like he should record it and play it anytime he has a bad day so he can feel better.

Sunghoon has never talked to you before, apart from the one time he asked if you had an extra pen with you. You did and even if Sunghoon spent half the time grinning because it’s your pen instead of taking down notes. Sunghoon isn’t even aware of the fact he likes you.

Sunghoon preps himself all night saying he won’t look in your direction the next day but once he enters the classroom, he instantly searches for your figure and is happy once he sees you. That night, he spends his time surfing the internet on how to know whether you like someone or not. He tells himself that once he practices all the things the web says, he’ll be able to prove that what he feels to you is simply his out of the world.

The next day, Sunghoon asks you for a pencil this time because he doesn’t want to seem like an unserious student to you (although his track record of him sleeping in class shows otherwise). He gives himself an internal pep talk before he can talk to you.

“Y/N, do you please have a spare pencil?” he asks, mentally patting himself on the back for not stuttering when he asked you. When you look up at him from sitting, he feels the air in his lungs knock out for a second when you give him a small smile before giving him your pencil. Your fingers come in contact with each other briefly but he takes his hand away quickly, feeling flustered.

He's grateful his legs don’t give way as he walks to his seat next to Jay. Once he sits next to Jay, he taps him so he can ask him a question. “Have you ever had a crush, Jay? How does it feel to have one?” he questions and Jay raises an eyebrow in surprise. Sunghoon never asks about anything relating to things like that so it’s interesting when he asks.

“Yes I have, why do you ask though?”

“I don’t know if I have a crush on someone or not”. That statement catches Jay’s attention and he faces Sunghoon in seriousness

“You..” Jay drags at first. “Have a crush. On a real human?”

“Why would you say it like that?” Sunghoon whines and places his head in his palms. “And I think I have one, not that I do”

“Your thinking is already a sign that you probably have a crush. Who is that person?” Jay says and Sunghoon pauses before he reluctantly whispers it.

“Y/N,” he confesses and Jay opens his mouth in shock. “I know you’re surprised but can you not look that surprised!?”

“Dude I thought you were aromantic for the longest time,” Jay confesses and Sunghoon resists the urge to smack his head on the table.

“You’re a fool. Why didn’t you ask?”

“Sunghoon please,” Jay says with a flick of his hair. “You ignore anyone in a two feet radius of you. And now I get that you’re shy but no one caught your attention. You can’t even blame it on school either, you sleep through your classes”. Sunghoon groans at what Jay says and feels frustrated. What possessed him to even have a crush?

After Sunghoon has his mini-rant, he turns to face Jay once again. “What do I do?” he questions and Jay bursts out laughing and gives Sunghoon a pat on the back. Sunghoon lets him keep his hand there just because he’s helping him out.

“You, my friend, are utterly hopeless”

“I’m not! I’ve asked her for something before!” Sunghoon defends himself and Jay snorts.

“And that is?”

“The pencil I’m using right now,” Sunghoon mumbles and Jay has to stop himself from laughing. The look on his poor friend’s face is clearly distraught and he would feel bad about it if not for the fact that Sunghoon is always the first to laugh at him. However, Sunghoon is still his friend and he’ll help him out.

“Confess to them”

“Are you setting me up for failure? I need to test the waters and know if I like them after a while. Besides, who in their right mind confesses to someone after asking them for a pencil. I hardly even talk to them gosh!” Sunghoon laments and Jay can tell that it’s something that bothers him.

“Why don’t we take it slow eh? You’ll start by doing simple tasks; ask if you can sit with her during lunch”

“Not doing that. I wanted to use my lunch to sleep,” Sunghoon says and Jay sighs, calling his case hopeless.

“Which subject are you struggling with?” Jay asks and Sunghoon thinks for a moment.

“History”

“Ask her to explain a topic to you during the break. They’re nice and I’m sure they’ll be willing to help,”

“Let’s ask her together”

“Okay” and it's settled, Sunghoon and Jay will ask for your help.

That break, Sunghoon thinks his knees are jello from the way they shake. He’s grateful he wore his long pants today unless you will be able to see his knees. Jay does most of the talking (obviously) and Sunghoon does the staring. You agree easily to help them and that only makes Sunghoon happier because he knows that if anyone asks him he’d say no. Not that he was all that intelligen

“Thank you for going out of your way to explain, I’m sure you must have been busy,” Sunghoon says and regardless of his crush on you, he feels proud that he has been able to understand something.

“Oh no, it’s nothing,” you reassure him with a wave of your hands. “I’d do anything for a friend,” you tell him and Sunghoon looks like he’s stopped working.

“Friend. We’re friends?” he asks you, taken aback. Do you call everyone your friend? He hardly does that.

“Of course…unless you don’t want to be my friend?” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re a good person. I was only taken aback, that's all. Thank you though, I should get something to eat,” Sunghoon states as he gets his bag to go.

“Oh me too! Do you want to walk together?” you question and Sunghoon nods. What goes on in his head is the fact you’re this outgoing with someone you recently started talking to. On the way to get snacks, you greet quite a number of people. And as you do so, Sunghoon realises just how recognized you are. For every person that calls your name, you answer them with a smile.

At the snacks place, there’s only one bottle of juice left and you both reach for it at the same time with your fingers touching slightly.

“Have it,” you tell him and he shakes his head no, giving you the juice. Sunghoon knows that it’s only because it's you. He knows that if it were someone like Jay he’d not let him have him.

“Consider it as payment for the tutoring,” Sunghoon urges with a tiny smile. He hopes it looks like a nice smile to you and not an awkward, constipated looking one.

“I may have to continue tutoring then. You know, more free stuff for me,” you tease with a wink and Sunghon believes that at this moment, he’s the happiest person alive.

That moment becomes a changing experience and for the next three months, you and Sunghoon become closer. You still continue to tutor him, and Jay occasionally but he becomes someone you can rely on. Even when you got a grade you didn't expect to get on a test you studied vigorously for, Sunghoon stayed with you and comforted you. Even though his comfort is in a weird way, it makes you comfortable and relaxed.

“You did your best Y/N,” he says. “It sucks that you didn’t do so well even though you studied a lot for it but I’m still proud of you. And I’m sure that one day, you’ll be proud of yourself too.” Sunghoon prefers to not say anything and listen to the person talk then respond once they’ve gotten everything out of their system but he said those things so you don’t think negative thoughts. The Park Sunghoon loves himself more than anything but you’ve taken a place in his heart and he doesn’t think you’ll leave soon.

You recover quickly from the test and you go back to being the cheerful Y/N that he knows. On his way to meet you for one of his sessions, he accidentally hears a conversation between you and your friends.

“You obviously like him!” they say and Sunghoon stops. Do you like someone? Is it someone in your class? Perhaps is it Jake the band kid or that Riki kid who seems to sleep in class a lot? Who is it?

“Just a little bit,” you eventually confess shyly and your friends squeal.

“When are you going to tell him? He may like you back,” one says and you shake your head.

“He has star eyes anytime he sees you. Trust us Y/N!” another one comments and you blush.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to ruin the friendship.” you state and Sunghoon decides he’s had enough of the conversation. It was pretty rude of him to listen to it anyways. And as much as he wants to know who you like, he’ll prefer if you tell him yourself. So Sunghoon tells himself not to talk to you about it. That's exactly what he tells himself. What he does, however, is completely different.

You’re about fifteen minutes into the tutoring session when Sunghoon decides to completely forgo his plan. “I hear you have a crush on someone,” he admits and you freeze. Turning to him, he can see the uneasy look in your eyes.

“You heard what my friends were saying yeah? Don't mind them, they were just talking nonsense,” you say with a chuckle tht SUnghoon can tell is fake.

“You can tell me who you like Y/N, I like someone too” Sunghoon tells you but he knows that what he wants to say is that you’re the person he likes.

“That must be nice. I mean Park Sunghoon has a crush on someone. I mean, you hardly talk to anyone so they must be very special,” you comment although it kills you to say so.

“Y/n, for someone so smart you sure are dumb”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, I hardly talk to anyone other than you and Jay. Who do you think I’m more likely to have a crush on?” You’re mute before Sunghoon answers the question himself. “It’s you, I have a crush on you. I’ve had one for over three months now”

“Sunghoon-”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted to let you know”

“Shut up and give me a hug you idiot”

“Wait, why?”

“Are you still confused? I like you too, fool!” you say happily and Sunghoon thinks he’s in a dream. Do you like him? You really do?

“That’s nice. No, I mean that’s awesome,” Sunghoon whispers and pulls you in for a hug. His embrace is warm and feels comfortable with his hands around your shoulders and yours around his upper body.

Sunghoon thinks this feels nice. He’s happy that you like him back and not someone else. You pull away from him abruptly to ask him a question. “How did Jay not accidentally let it slip through?”

Sunghoon sighs and takes your hand in his hand before he says, “I paid for his snack expenses. Enough about him, you’re with me now”

#ficscafe #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines

[rosalineandrosemary]

he reached for the sun, and the sun took his hand.

Ao3

There are benches both inside and outside of their school, even without counting the cafeteria, but they’re all encompassed by the hustle and bustle of their school. And so, when Marinette starts walking away from the school after the lunch bells ring, Felix follows like a moth to a flame. She walks past her house, waving at her maman through the windows of the bakery, and he waves too, stiffly. Her maman smiles at them, and points to the display cases to ask if they want anything. Marinette shakes her head and raises the bag she’s holding, to which Mme. Cheng nods, and they keep walking.

Marinette stops them at one of the benches in the park, and sits down in the shade. He sits down without prompting, and Marinette beams at him, a smile that could challenge the sun. He freezes and looks away, trying to hide the warmth growing in his cheeks, and pulls his lunch out of his bag. 

“Did you hear what Lila was saying in class today? Talking about her latest trips to far off places but all the images she showed you can find online with five minutes of searching. Like, it’s nice to sit by you during class, but sometimes I wish I could still sit by Alya in the seat we earned, you know?” 

He hummed in agreement, perfectly content to let her talk while he ate his lunch, but she instead let the statement hang in the air before pulling out her own lunch. 

The silence was companionable, broken only by remnants of conversation from other small student groups and the laughter of some of the playing children. Around halfway through their allotted lunch time, Marinette puts away her containers with a content noise and a full body wiggle before pulling her sketchbook from the confines of her backpack. “Do you mind if I sketch? I have a couple ideas for some outfits that I really want to get down!”

“Feel free.”

“Thanks, Fe!” She smiles again and he’s lost in it, left staring even after she’s turned away. It’s as if her smile is burned into his eyes, an entoptic phenomenon that steals his breath from his lungs. By the time he pries his eyes away, Marinette is already immersed in her designs, her tongue poking out from between her lips. He reaches into his bag to pull out his book, but none of the words stick in his mind, eyes trailing back to stare at Marinette’s quiet joy. 

Eventually he gives up, placing his book back in his bag and sitting there, staring into his own personal sun, sitting right next to him. The ice in his chest is melting into a pooling ocean and it feels like he’s about to overflow with it, surface tension being the only thing keeping his feelings from spilling out and he can’t bear to stare at her for any longer. 

He tears his eyes away, trying to turn the water back into ice, to freeze the feelings back in his chest and keep it contained, but there’s too much water and too many feelings and even if he can turn some of them into icebergs it doesn’t change the amount of water and finally everything comes spilling out. 

“It hurts to look at you sometimes, Marinette.” His words, soft as they may be, break the silence between them. She turns to look at him, endlessly blue eyes piercing into his skin, eyebrows furrowing with worry, an expression he’s seen time and time again: when he gets too close to akuma fights, when the bags under his eyes are darker and he forgoes his usual coffee order for something with more caffeine, or when she’s worrying about other people and he gets to watch the all-consuming flames of her care. 

“Felix?” Her voice is soft and confused, and it takes everything within him to not turn to look at her, to not let the words freeze on his tongue, to not shove everything he’s feeling back underneath his infamous “ice prince” persona that she so carefully took apart. 

He watches her out of his periphery, continuing to stare ahead and try to figure out how to melt the ice in his chest that he had tried so hard to freeze. He can’t take this back now. He can’t leave her with just that phrase, not with the twists and turns and dark corners all throughout her brain. “You’re incandescent, a sun of your own volition, and I fear that I am forever just going to be orbiting you at a distance.” He tightens his grip around the strap of his bag, white knuckled and shaking softly, before releasing it and stretching out his fingers. Felix sees her move, place her hands down on the bench, moving to get up, to stare him in the eyes. Her mouth is opening, an indignant cry of his name on her lips, and he feels like he’s going to burn from the inside out. 

“Please,” he croaks, voice unsteady. “Please, let me finish, Marinette.” His tone is worrying her even further, and so are his words. It’s written plain on her face, a book she never chose to lock. Her emotions are her strength and it’s awe-inspiring to see from inside his several layers of ice, carefully frozen to keep everything locked inside. She continues to melt it with ease, leaving him scrambling, but he needs to tell her.

 “Try as I might, I can’t keep this in any longer. I feel as though I am bursting at the seams, combusting. You melted the walls and pillars of ice I formed for years, nosing your way into every nook and cranny of my being, and I believe I have fallen for you.” Marinette lets out a soft gasp and he turns away, lacing his fingers around the strap of his bag once again. 

He can’t bear to see the look on her face when she rejects him. Disgust? Horror? Her quiet kind of upset, where her eyes fill with tears and she tries to stifle it, to push away her own feelings over and over again? 

He keeps talking, a desperate bid to keep himself away from the truth for as long as he can. “I apologize for the hastiness of my confession, and I hope I didn’t upset you too much. I’m sorry if I did, I truly had no intention to, but I understand if you reject me and I’d even understand if you never wished to see me again, I just wished to--”

“Felix.” Her voice stops him in his tracks, body tensing. “Felix, do you mind if I touch you?” Her voice is soft and her words kind but he flinches regardless, giving a jerky nod. He didn’t expect her to want to touch him, not after he ruined their friendship, but he tensed further as he thought of all the power contained in her body and prepared for backlash. He knew, intrinsically, that someone as kind as Marinette could never hurt someone maliciously, but that knowledge fell into the chasm of fear in his chest, and all he could hope was that she would choose to spare him, even a little. 

One of her hands enters his line of sight and he flinches, closing his eyes, before her warm hand is placed softly on his cheek, slowly turning his head to face in her direction. “Felix, I could never be upset with you for that.” Her tone is impossibly tender, her hand is still cupping his cheek, and he exhales slowly before opening his eyes. 

There are tears dripping down her cheeks, rolling down to the beaming smile stretched across her lips, and she raises her other hand to hold his face like he’s something precious. “I adore you, did you know that?” She smiles even brighter, looking him in the eyes before continuing. 

“Each pen has a specific place in your pencil case, and you change which pen you use each school period. You take your coffee with cream and sugar even though you say it’s black when anyone asks. You pretend you’re made of ice because it’s everything you’ve known, but you still care even if it’s not in your best interests. Everything about you is something to love, and I do. And you’re here. Despite everything, you’re here, not orbiting some foreign sun or wasting away in a cavern of ice. You’re right here, with me, and I am holding your face in my hands and you are beautiful.” She’s still crying, tears catching the sunlight, and she presses her forehead to his but it’s just warm. Nothing burns and she is so close and she’s not a sun, she’s simply Marinette, and he loves her more than anything he’s ever known. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” Those words, choked out his throat, try to compact everything he’s feeling into one simple statement. The love, the awe, the feeling of reaching something he never thought he would be able to reach, the pure joy filling in every gap where fear laid just moments before, like the sun rising over Paris. But instead of being that sun, Marinette is here and she is right in front of him and she is watching the sky turn pink and the darkness retreat and it may be noon but he thinks this is the prettiest sunrise he has ever seen. 

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Felix.” He smiles at her, leaning against one of her hands, placing his own on top of hers. He feels ridiculous holding his own face but she brightens impossibly more and there is blush flaring on his cheeks and he tries to look away but she’s still right there.

“Well then, how about saying I love you instead?” He tries to put confidence in his voice, but he is putty in her hands and she can tell, her smile turning from something big and beaming to something small but so fond it almost makes his chest ache. 

“I love you too, Felix.” And she locks eyes with him and looks down and he tries to nod but forgets that she’s that close and bumps heads with her instead. 

Marinette laughs and it’s joyful and he just stares at her and hopes that she can see the fondness building in his chest when he looks at her. She stops laughing and her cheeks flush to a pink color that he thinks could be his favorite color. Every part of her is his favorite color. The blue color of her hair in the light, the blue color of her eyes, the color of the faint freckles on her cheeks and the pink of her blush and he’s staring again, he knows he is, but she just smiles and places her forehead back against his. 

“Can I kiss you?” She whispers it, like they’re in their own little world, and he presses forward and kisses her first. Her lips are soft and she tastes like a fruit flavor he can’t quite recall, not with her hands on his face and her lips on his.

There aren’t fireworks, or sparks. There’s no burning or fire or hurting. There’s just him and there’s Marinette and a feeling of home and rightness like everything he’s ever wanted. 

He breaks away first, offers another whispered “I love you” against her lips before she pulls away too, far enough away that he can actually see things beyond her eyes and her cheeks and her hair. 

She moves one of her hands and he lifts his so she can take it back, and she puts on a mock-serious face that can’t hide the joy in her eyes. 

“If you ever talk about yourself that way again I’m going to fight you.” She waggles one finger at him, lips curling to conceal her laughter, and he raises his eyebrows even as he melts further into her remaining hand.

“You’re going to fight me?” 

“Yes! With love and affection and pets.” He doesn't get a chance to ask what she means by pets before her nails are scratching through his hair, and he wished he could deny the way that his eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“You make a formidable opponent, my dear.” She giggles, moving to scratch behind his ear before the alarm goes off, telling them that they have to make their way back to school if they don’t want to be late.

She reaches her hand out to him and he takes it, lacing his fingers between hers. 

#felinette #this is the wip i was ignoring!! i finished it!! #thank you notte and nebula for beta-ing!!!! #marinette dupain cheng #pv felix #miraculous ladybug #rosaline writes

[shorkbrian]

Enough

My take?

Bakugou asks you out - it honestly comes out of nowhere.

Why would a pro hero be interested in just another paper-pusher working in his agency building? 

(NSFW, rough fucking, slight predatorXprey)

You were flattered to say the least, but also intimated. He had stormed up to you at your desk (the man had never spoke to you before, so you didn’t know what to think) and slammed his hands down, rattling your pens in their cup, making you jump.

“You’re gonna go out with me”

“W-what?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Go out with me.”

Had you missed something? You had never talked to the man in your life, had only seen him as he came and went, your work station one of the ones on the same floor as his “office”.

There had been no indication that he was interested in you - there had been no indication that Bakugou even knew you existed.

But you didn’t want to insult the hero, you knew he was proud and brash and maybe not the best at feelings, so maybe he’d been wanting to ask you/ talk to you for a while. 

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable saying yes.

Maybe it was the way he stood over your desk, practically leaning into your space, leering down at you with those bright red eyes. You didn’t like his tone, the way his words were a statement instead of a polite request. Almost as if he was ordering you to go out with him... or else.

So you brushed him off, you need some time to think about it, have to see if you have any free time (”I’ll give you a whole damn month off, lets fucking go do something or some shit.”) and you had to quickly come up with poor excuses, ones that both of you could tell were weak, fake.

 Bakugou had just set his jaw, before clicking his tongue and storming back into his office, leaving you alone at your desk.

Yeah, that had been a weird day.

The next week at work had been weird too, Bakugou glaring at you whenever you unintentionally looked in his general direction. He caught you in the break room, leaning in the doorway with a cup of coffee clutched in his calloused hands.

The man just smirked, stood still, made you squeeze your way past him even though he was perfectly capable of moving.

He had bumped into you in the elevator, mouth set in a firm line that somehow seemed pleased when the elevator filled up with other people, allowing him to crowd into your space, literally breathe down you neck.

The pro hero managed to “accidentally” trip and spill his cup of water all over you, making your shirt stick to your skin, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He had scoffed at you, before you had hurried past him and rushed to the bathroom to try and pat your shirt dry with paper towels.

By the third week of Bakugou being an absolute shithead, you had made your decision - not that you were going to let him know that. He hadn’t asked you about going out any further, and by now you knew, you didn’t want to get involved with that.

Bakugou was too volatile, too unstable and angry and insecure. You wouldn’t be able to handle even trying to connect with him.

So you did your best to avoid him

----

And oh, did Bakugou notice.

He didn’t like being ignored, being fucking teased. Because that’s obviously what you were doing, playing hard to get. Well, he was good at this game, always got his prize, everything that he wanted in the end.

It was clear that you wanted his attention, any attention for that matter. You wore those tight little shirts, buttons almost straining at the seams, the top button undone so Bakugou could see down you shirt every time you bent over in his line of sight.

Those slutty skirts, short and form-fitting, the slit up the back giving teasing glimpses of your legs as you walked. Every skirt you owned made your ass look great, Bakugou enjoyed admireing the view everyday whenever you were turned away from his office, bending over at a co-workers desk to look at some documents or some shit like that.

Your silky stockings that made your legs look so long and soft and smooth, the high heels that clicked with each step. Even though each and every outfit was modest and work-appropriate, your body just wouldn’t quit. You looked hot, Bakugou wasn’t afraid to admit that it was the reason why he had noticed you.

But there were plenty of beautiful women employed by his agency.

You were special.

There was something about you, the spark in your eye, the straightness of your spine. You were bold, weren’t willing to roll over and show your stomach. Bakugou knew you were stubborn and confident and stupidly self-assured. 

It intrigued him. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him, respected his space - that’s why you were allowed on the same floor as his office, one of the few desks that was in view of it.

He didn’t care about your existence at first. No, you were just another shitty extra. But damn, he had sure taken notice when you put an idiot in their place.

A fucking mailman had tried to “hand deliver” a package - meaning he was going to try and get up in Bakugou’s face, beg for an autograph, fanboy all over his office and be stupid and annoying and clingy. Bakugou was left wondering why the receptionist had even let him up, in which case damn, he should probably fire her or something.

Bakugou hadn’t even noticed the man until a shout drew his attention away from the boring paperwork on his desk. There you were, hands on your hips, staring down an angry mailman who was flailing his arms like a goddamn octopus. The man was mad, shouting at you about delivering the package, before you promptly snatched it out of his hands.

You set it to the side on your desk, before crossing your arms and turning back to the shocked mailman. You informed him that he could either get out now, or you’d drag him out by his ear, since he wanted to act like a pissy little baby.

And damn, did that make Bakugou pay attention to you.

Unfortunately, after the mailman had left with his tail between his legs, you hadn’t even attempted to take the package to Bakugou. You had asked one of your coworkers to do it, Bakugou had watched you gesture to the box on your desk while talking to one of the other employees. Truthfully, Bakugou was a little disappointed you weren’t going to come into his office.

But from that day on, he was hooked on you.

And now, with you trying to play coy, being a little bitch that couldn’t own up about their feelings? Bakugou was furious with you. He had been man enough to admit his feelings, to ask you out on a date, show his interest. And what had you done? Brushed him off, gave little fucking stupid excuses and tried to smile your way out of things.

Bakugou could see what you were playing at. 

Little tease.

He could tease right back.

After weeks of your stupid flirty game, Bakugou was done. It was clear you weren’t interested in him, kept avoiding him and turning the other way whenever you spotted him. Tried to take the stairs in order to not run into him on the elevator, conveniently got sick whenever Bakugou wanted to do trust building exercises with the team working on his floor.

He didn’t need your fucking approval, he could take what he wanted. You thought you were better than him? You were nothing but dirt. 

Granted, you were pretty dirt - dirt that made his heart clench tight and his dick twitch whenever he thought of you in your little pencil skirts.

But still dirt.

And for some reason, even though you had subtly turned him down, you still decided to be the worlds biggest tease.  Bakugou was going to snap, he was frustrated and horny and angry that you didn’t even have the balls to tell him in person that you didn’t want to go out with him.

All day you’d been acting extra flirty, laughing with your coworker over some stupid shit, the sound making Bakugou’s do little flips. He saw you accidentally drop a stack of papers - bend over to pick them up, perfect little ass sticking out just for him. You had ate your lunch at your desk, coincidentally Bakugou also randomly decided to do the same, watching you lick yogurt off your spoon. God, the way your tongue swirled around the spoon, licking up the creamy white substance had Bakugou popping a stiffy, had him chewing through his vegetables with a little more force than normal.

After lunch you had given a quick stretch of your arms, letting your back curve just right and Bakugou wanted to swear as you let out a breathy little moan as you stretched out a sore muscle, no one else around to hear it but him.

Fuck.

Getting through the rest of the work day was hell, Bakugou remaining seated at his desk so he wouldn’t have to be bothered with trying to hide his boner when he stood up. He had to watch you welcome your coworkers back from lunch, smile at one of them, let out a stupid little giggle at some stupid shit one of the fucking stupid little employees said.

He tried to put you out of his mind, focus back on his work. He was managing to do it pretty well actually, until his bladder got the best of him and he had to make a trip to the bathroom. Luckily by then his boner had gone down.

There weren’t many people on this floor, no need for separate bathrooms - just one single room, unisex.

Bakugou knocked on the door waiting barely a second before pulling it open, almost blowing up the damn thing as someone practically fell onto him.

“Sorry! I was just opening the door and I didn’t hear you knock…” You trailed off as you realized who was attached to the arms steadying you.

Bakugou glared at you, not listening. He was focused more on the fact that your breasts were squished up against his chest,  could feel your rapid heartbeat, was so close that he could see the bright little specks of color in your eyes as you gazed up at him with a shocked expression.

With a flurry of movement, you pushed yourself away from your boss, stumbled backwards, and promptly fell flat on your ass.

Now normally, Bakugou would burst out laughing, or maybe sneer and goad you about being clumsy and dumb, but not now. 

Not when he had caught a glimpse up your skirt as you fell away from him.

HIs heart was beating so fast in his chest, Bakugou didn’t even register your quick “So sorry sir!” as you scrambled to your feet, hurriedly trying to straighten out your clothes. He could only stare at you, try to control his breathing, stop himself from jumping you right then and there. 

Were you serious? Teasing him like this, leading him on, being an absolute slut with no remorse? He could barely believe you. As you dashed past him, cheeks flaming, Bakugou watched you go, a plan forming in his head.

He was going to teach you a lesson.

——

Bakugou waited until the end of the work day, 4:55, before exiting his office and stomping over to your desk.

“Hey, I need you in my office in twenty minutes.”

You looked up at him, confused, brow furrowed. “Bakugou-san, it’s almost five.” 

Bakugou could care less, sneering. “And? I need you to stay later. You and I are gonna have a little discussion about your compliance with company rules about work attire.” You turned bright red, glancing quickly down at your outfit. “Of course, I can talk to you now if you’d like, out where all your coworkers can hear me tearing you a new one. …Your choice.”

Glaring up at him, you shook your head, spitting out “I’ll see you in twenty minutes Bakugou-san.”

He smirked as he turned away from you, swaggering back into his office. The man liked your little spark of defiance, the stubbornness hiding deep down. 

 The two of you would be having a lot of fun in a little while.

There wasn’t much more for him to do except wait, scroll through his phone, boots knocked up on his desk, leaning back in his office chair, hand behind his head. It was almost amusing, watching you say goodbye to your coworkers as they left, pretending to straighten your desk and finish up whatever you had been working on.

Ten minutes passed, Bakugou watching you squirm out of the corner of his eye as each subsequent “goodbye” of your peers left you more secluded with your boss. 

Twenty minutes passed and you got up, straightening out your skirt before coming to knock loudly at his office door, pushing it open before he could acknowledge your presence. He raised an eyebrow at the subtle show of disrespect - maybe you knew what game he was playing, were trying to rile him up even more? Every little play of yours made his blood burn hotter.

You sat down in the chair across his desk, folding your hands in your lap, tucking your feet to the side - the very picture of professional employee. Bakugou kicked his boots off his desk, leaning forward over his desk.

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, narrowing his eyes as you lifted your chin, staring straight back at him. 

“If you had me stay late just so you could try to intimidate me, that’s disappointing.“  Bakugou shrugged at you, and you almost snorted before continuing. “I’m curious as to why I’m here - my work attire is always appropriate, I complete my work on time, there’s no reason for complaints. What am I not doing for you? I’m a good employee.”

“Well, for starters-“ Bakugou stood up, rolling his neck, relishing in the subsequent pops from his bones releasing stress. “You could stop always being such a fuckin’ tease.”

The look of confusion on your face was priceless.

“It’d be nice if we could get this game over with too - much as I like playing, I wanna get to the part where my cock is down your throat.”

Mouth dropped open in shock, you quickly snapped it shut, a blush rising on your cheeks. “What game? This is inappropriate Bakugou-san-“

“What game?” Bakugou scoffed. “This little game of cat-and-mouse. Damn, didn’t take you as the dense type.  Are you just trying to get me to punish you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you - little slut.”

Bakugou knew you weren’t playing a game with him, knew that your teasing was unintentional. But your obliviousness made him hard, and it was fun watching you rocket to your feet, indignant at his words.  Before you could even get a response out, Bakugou spoke again, starting to walk around his desk towards you.

“Seriously, don’t act fucking stupid.  If you want me to spank you so damn bad, all you gotta do is ask.”

He held out his hands, as if it was ridiculous that he had to tell you this. The blond could tell you were starting to get what was about to happen, eyes flickering down to the steadily-growing bulge in Bakugou’s pants. He could see the wheels turning in your head, the reasons he wanted to talk to you after everyone had left for the day, why he had been such a creep these past few weeks. 

You bolted.

Heels clicking against the floor, only able to take short steps in your pencil skirt, brain blank with fear. 

This was exactly how Bakugou had wanted this to go.

He wanted to chase you down, pin you despite how you struggle, and fuck you like an animal. 

It was easy for him to cut you off from the elevator, leaping over desks and sliding in front of the doors before you could reach them. With a frustrated cry, you whirled on your heel, dashed towards the stairwell. Bakugou beat you there too, lunging at your form and pushing you to the side before you could open the door. 

You stumbled, a heel coming off in the process. You shucked off the other shoe, taking a second to throw it at your boss. Bakugou laughed as he dodged the strong throw, your heel thudding uselessly against the wall behind him.

“Keep running bitch, you won’t get far - there’s no where to go.” He taunted.

You barely waited a moment before taking off across the office floor again, able to go faster without difficult shoes. You were heading back towards Bakugou’s office, the man realized. A smart move - the door locked, there was a phone you could use to call for help. Too bad you wouldn’t even reach the door.

The pro-hero grabbed your shoulder, pulled to whip you around to face him, making you stumble backwards. Without missing a beat, he slapped you across the face, palm burning. That wasn’t part of the plan, but Bakugou was worked up, running on adrenaline and emotions. Your head whipped to the side from the force of the slap, shocked. 

Taking advantage of your sudden stillness, Bakugou grabbed your waist, lifted you up and into his arms. Your arms were flailing now, trying to punch and hit and scratch but even with your strength you were barely a nuisance to the pro-hero.

Here’s the part that he had trouble with - where was the best place to bend you over? Your desk? Should he shove you to the ground and rip off your skirt? Up against the wall where he could thrust up into you with wild abandon?

On his own desk?

That sounded good.

The man marched to his office, kicked open the door and then kicked it shut, wincing when you landed a solid kick to his knee that twisted the joint a bit too far to the left. “Goddamn, you still gotta lot of energy? That’s gonna change, I’m gonna fuck you until you pass the fuck out.”

You shrieked at his admission, doubling your efforts to try to get the man to loosen his hold on you. Bakugou dropped you onto his desk so you were sitting upright, wrenched your thighs apart, stood between them as he wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled your neck back as he pushed himself flush against your body.

“Mm, you feel real damn good. Like the way you struggle ’n shit - rubs just right over my dick. Feel how big I am? I’m gonna fuck you open with it.”

He could hear your choked whine, still too proud to beg. No, you were too stubborn and proud to beg and plead right away. Bakugou knew you would after he broke you down though, had you drooling over his desk. 

The man used this moment to bite at your neck, relishing your gasp as he bite down roughly on the side, before quickly sucking over the red indentions of his teeth. Your hands were on him, one wrapped around the wrist of the hand wrapped in your hair, the other hand pushing against his chest as if that was going to make him go away or some shit.

His hand not wrapped in your hair fisted into your shirt, uncaring of the fabric as he flexed his arm, literally tore it off your upper half. Bakugou didn’t have the patience to take it off properly; He had waited too long for this, he was almost lightheaded with how much blood was rushing through his dick right now.

You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy - which was good, cause Bakugou ripped that off too, leaving you bare from the waist up. He was breathing heavily, panting as he quickly glanced at your body, taking in your soft skin, the rise and fall of your chest as you squirmed and whined and tried to escape from his grip. He liked the way you leaned your upper half away from him, following the hand pulling your hair so it wouldn’t pull your strands, subsequently pushing your lower half against your boss.

The blond groped roughly at your tits, giving quick little slaps to each one to watch them jiggle. 

“You have been such a fucking tease, you know that? Wearing these tight outfits, little shirts that don’t even cover your tits. Every time you bend down I can see right down ‘em,  see what the tops of your tits look like.” With a grunt, Bakugou bent his head, biting roughly at the top of your chest. “Makes me wanna fuck your tits, spit all over ‘em until they’re dripping, make you hold ‘em together around my dick. God, that’d be hot.”

He let go of your hair, hands falling to your waist to pull you closer so he could grind his bulge between your legs. With him not pulling your head back, you could focus on what he was doing, fight back.

Bakugou felt the burning pain on his cheek, then heard the sound, then registered that you had just slapped him. Fucking bitch.  With a growl, Bakugou grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks painfully in-between his fingers, bringing your face forward so he could press his forehead against yours.

“Try that shit again, see what happens. I can assure you it won’t be fuckin’ pretty. I don’t mind, but you probably would.”  He threatened. Your eyes shined, not wet with tears, still sparking with the fire of defiance. 

Bakugou wanted that spark. Did he want to extinguish it? Fan it into a blazing fire? He didn’t know, he just wanted. 

He glanced at your lips quickly, instinctively licking his own before making eye contact again. He couldn’t resist - didn’t want to. Bakugou surged forward, capturing your lips with his own, immediately biting and growling into your mouth, using the hand on your waist to move you against himself, humping into your clothed pussy.

When he pulled away, you were gasping, a string of saliva dripping down your chin. 

The blond gripped at his throbbing cock through his pants, groaning.  His hands moved to your skirt while pulling you to your feet, clumsily fiddling with the zipper in the back, trying to tug it down with one hand while the other kneaded into your chest.

With how you were positioned, it’s no surprise when he felt you bite down onto the side of his neck.

Bakugou laughed, tapering off into a moan as the pain bloomed in his neck.

Fuck, that felt good. He didn’t mind you biting at him, even if you were doing it to try and get away from him, and not out of lust.

Finally beating the zipper on your skirt, Bakugou stripped off the garment, whistling when you were revealed to him, no panties covering your sex. There you stood, nothing but smooth, sheer panty-hose covering your legs.

Bakugou flipped you around, shoved your face into his desk. He needed to be inside you now, he was done with games, done with the teasing, done with the dirty talk. 

You were bent at the waist, ass up in the air. The blond quickly undid his pants, pulling down his boxers just so his dick could be pulled out. There was already precum beading at the tip, and Bakugou hissed as he gave his member a quick stroke. Letting go of his cock, the man took hold of your panty-hose, right at the crotch, smirking as you wiggled around, yelling profanities.

Damn, you really were perfect for him.

The panty-hose ripped easily, a large hole that exposed your cunt, the barest hint of wetness in between your folds.  The blond didn’t want to wait to prep you, simply spat into his hand, gave his cock a quick stroke to cover it in his saliva, then lined himself up, cock nudging at your pussy.

“Relax your fucking hole bitch, this’ll hurt less.” He paused, surprising himself. Usually he wasn’t so considerate. “Or not, again, your choice.”

And with a snicker, the man began slowly pushing in, grunting as he was immediately met with tight resistance. But Bakugou wasn’t a quitter, and what he wanted, he got.

It took several minutes - minutes of you beginning to cry, beg for him to stop, shrieking at each new inch that sunk into you. Bakugou on the other hand had his head thrown back, calloused hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from moving anywhere but back and further onto his cock.

And then he was bottomed out, balls pressed against the top of your pussy, the pressure teasing your clit.

“Jesus Christ, You’re such a damn tease, but fuck, this pussy’s worth the work.”

You squirmed, before stilling as you gasped, able to physically /feel/ your boss’s cock twitching inside of you.  

Bakugou didn’t waste any time getting to work.

“You have been riling me up every damn week. I fucking hate you and you’re slutty little body, making me all hot n shit- haven’t been able to focus on anything. Stupid bitch.”

He was thrusting into you, pushing you across the desk before pulling you back onto his cock.

“Bet this is what you wanted the whole time. It’s why you brushed me off, huh? Ignored me like that? You just wanted me to hold you down and take what I fuckin’ want.”

Deep down, Bakugou knew that wasn’t true. It was clear by the way you struggled, your pathetic cries,  you whimpering “No, no I’ll rip your fucking throat out!” On each thrust. But even deeper down, Bakugou didn’t care whether you wanted this or not.

He did, and that’s what mattered.

His abs were clenching, pleasure shooting through his gut as you tightened around his cock, practically milking him. The suction was heavenly, made him groan, made him relax down against your body, sprawling to cover your back. 

Like this, Bakugou let his arms rest over your shoulders, his hands grabbing the other side of the desk. Your hips were trapped against his, pinned to the desk. There was no where for you to go, you could barely breathe with the man’s weight on you.

But it let Bakugou hammer into you like a stallion.

You whined as his speed increased, aided by his grip on the desk, his hips working furiously, skin loudly slapping against skin. 

With a growl, Bakugou buried his face in between your shoulder blades, mouthing roughly at the skin there, panting and growling and groaning like an animal as he fucked you.

Fuck, he was close, fuck.

With one last thrust, his balls tightened up, his dick jumping. He quickly pulled out, immediately reaching his hand down so he could fuck into his fist, and within seconds the man was cumming over your back.

Fuck, that felt fucking amazing.

When he was able to think clearly again, actually bring air into his lungs, Bakugou looked down at you, laying limp against his desk. There was a shine of wetness between your thighs, your pussy glistening and clenching around nothing.

“Aw, poor little tease wants to cum?”

He could tease too, giving your ass a quick, light slap. With an embarrassed shudder, you nodded imperceptibly.  Bakugou chuckled, bringing his fingers down to the puffy little nub nestled at the top of your pussy.  “If you want me to make you cum, you gotta say so. Don’t try and tell me you aren’t turned on’ you’re a shitty-ass liar.”

You trembled, before managing to spit out “Make me cum.” Bakugou shuddered, loving the hate filling your voice, the emotion. You sounded like you wanted to kill him, strangle him with your bare hands, and yet you were still begging for him to make you cum. How pathetic.

“Mm, too damn bad-“ Bakugou pulled his fingers away from your cunt, slapping your ass again, a little harsher this time. “Maybe next time I’ll let you cum. Teasing sluts don’t get to have shit, gotta earn it first.”

Maybe next time he’d fuck your throat.

#yandere thoughts #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #yanderebakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bnha #tw noncon #predator #prey

[maplecornia]

chapter 9

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.61K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: this chapter makes me laugh, especially the scene with Jojo and Namjoon.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags:@kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

You’ve been waiting for an hour.

Tilting your head back, you sigh, extremely bored.

You've tried everything you could think of to bypass the time. Reading, writing, watching YouTube, then switching over to Netflix, even attempting to doze in the slightly uncomfortable waiting room chair.

None of them have worked.

Currently, you're doodling in your sketchbook, but no concrete idea comes to mind for the sketch. Leaving you with tiny flowers, faces, and body parts on the page as though it were a practice sheet.

Peering over the sketchbook, you scan the room for any sign of life, but as the day has dragged on, so has the crowd.

You don't see any sign of Kim Namjoon anywhere, and the receptionist hasn't called you over ever since you turned in the forms she gave you. Uninterested, your eyes glazing over, you pull out your phone, peering at the time.

12:30 pm.

Heaving a sigh, you tilt your head back, the music playing through your GalaxyBuds. Yet it does no good to lift your spirits.

You suppose it's only fair, you made him wait, now it's his turn.

Setting your phone down once more, you purse your lips, as your gaze falls on a flower swaying in the wind outside.

It's the only flower you can see amongst the bush. It stands almost forlornly in the midst of multiple of its fellow brethren withered around it. Still, it stands strong, unwilling to fall victim to the harsh weather outside.

A thought crossing your mind, you turn to your sketchbook, quickly turning the page and beginning a vigorous sketch before you lose your idea.

Unbeknownst to you, as you progress halfway through the sketch, Kim Namjoon bursts into the lobby, looking out of breath and flustered.

He wears a bright white T-shirt, one with a small black Nike emblem across his left pectoral muscle. It hangs sort of loose around his neck, his collarbone visible as cooling sweat causes him to glisten like a bright star.

It's not as noticeable, considering that he wears a thick black sweatshirt zipped down around his shoulders. It's simple, with thin white stripes running down the sleeves and white soft underlining to it.

The black sweats he wears seem to fit with the outfit, the same white stripes running down each pant leg. Each piece of clothing has a Nike emblem on it and pairs well with the white Nike AirForces he wears on his feet.

They’re simple but rich clothes and bring to mind the same clothes Jungkook was wearing before.

The cooling sweat on his skin and the way his hair falls a bit messily underneath his cap could lead to the presumption that they were doing a major dance practice before all of this.

No matter the case, he didn't expect the meeting to take this long, and he feels terrible for making you wait, despite everything. As he looks for any sign of you, he doesn't find any.

Worried that you have already left, he knocks on the front desk, gathering the attention of the receptionist that helped you earlier. Kim Jojo raises her head, and as she catches sight of RM, her eyes widen just the slightest bit, but not enough for him to notice.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Namjoon, what can I--”

“Yes, yes hello.” Namjoon interrupts her, too panicked to care about formalities.

He wants to catch you before you get tired of waiting and leave. First impressions are everything to him, and if he has a bad one…Shaking the worry away, he leans forward over the counter separating the receptionist from him and she flinches away at the sudden closeness.

RM either doesn't notice or doesn't care, but either way, he meets her with an intent stare, every word uttered from his lips urgent and careful.

“Has anyone by the name of Lin Yen come in?” The receptionist opens her mouth to respond but before she can say anything, he holds up a finger.

A thought having crossed his mind, he reaches into his back pocket, bringing out his phone. He tries to bring up the picture of you while Jojo stands there, half in shock, half in annoyance. As soon as he finds it, he lets out a little victory shout, one that startles her.

Grinning, he presents it to her, and she peers at a strange picture of you. After she looks at it, Jojo pulls back, her brows crinkling in confusion.

“She looks like this. If she came in, could you please tell me? I've been waiting since 8:00 this morning to meet her.” Jojo sighs, trying to gain her composure before responding.

“Mr. Namjoon--” she begins, but Namjoon interrupts once more.

“She’s my new assistant, you see, and I need to begin her training today. She needs to know the ropes before our busy season comes back around.” He explains, pulling the phone back and trying to pocket it once more.

Instead, he ends up knocking over a container filled with an assortment of pens and pencils. Surprised, he fumbles to pick it up but ends up spilling it all over the floor. Cursing under his breath, he reaches down to pick up some pencils that have fallen.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jojo picks up the container, righting it on the counter with a loud thud. Startled, RM glances up at her eyes wide, and she smiles sweetly.

“Please, just leave it.” She says between her teeth. He shrugs, almost reluctantly standing. She sighs in relief, carefully putting the pens and pencils back in their place.

“Now...Mr. Namjoon, please listen--” once more, she cannot finish, Namjoon unable to shut up to save his life.

“I’m sorry, but if you need any more information on her I could--”

“Kim Namjoon!” This time it's Jojo's turn to interrupt him, her patience finally wearing thin.

RM instantly falls silent, a bit surprised at the outburst.

Jojo takes a steadying breath before continuing.

“Now, the person you are talking about has already come in. I told her you were in a meeting and had her wait in the waiting room for you to return.” At the information, RM turns to the waiting room where he catches sight of you for the first time in real life.

He notices you vigorously sketching out your idea. Smiling, he can't help but smile at the familiarities he finds in you. You look exactly like the picture Jaejin sent, despite how weird it was.

“I had expected to receive a notice of your return, so I could send her to you, but now that you're here….” Namjoon turns away from you and flashes his contagious smile at Jojo who is once more taken aback.

“Thank you,” Namjoon says with gratitude, reaching across the desk and holding her hand as he bows before turning away.

Jojo, watching him go, turns beet red before collapsing behind the desk in exhaustion. Another fellow receptionist cries out with alarm before tending to her in concern.

You, once more, having no awareness of the events happening around you, continue to sketch. Having finished the rough sketch you begin to define every line, detail, and curve. As you work, you bite the inside of your cheek, sometimes licking your lips in your trance of concentration.

When you're lost in your mind of imagination and creativity, nothing from the outside world can distract you.

And yes, that also includes a very tall, very real version of Kim Namjoon striding towards you.

You don't look up as he comes within a few feet in front of you. You don't even notice as he bends to your eye level, trying to catch your attention. It doesn't break your concentration, even as you reach for an eraser, lightly humming to the music playing in your ears. He smiles, almost laughing at your concentration before he covers his mouth, trying to be quiet so that you don't notice he’s there.

Trying to tease you, he carefully (as much as he’s able) sits down next to you. He was planning on pulling out one of your GalaxyBuds and surprising you, but as he catches a glimpse of your work, he’s stopped cold.

It's breathtaking.

You have created an awestruck image of a woman, on her knees. She wails out in agony as she sits amongst a pile of ash, flecks of it falling around her as though there's a fire burning nearby.

However, that’s not what catches Namjoon’s eye.

Amongst the ash, if anyone looks closely, they'll be able to see that there are small, scattered remains of bones hidden.

She sits amongst them, wailing, the look on her face one of pure anguish and sorrow as the ash from the fading bones stains her skin and her dress.

As though she has lost everyone she’s held, dear.

RM can't seem to look away, entranced by the grotesque beauty of the image and the talent of the artist.

He admires the way you set it up, the way you created the girl imperfectly, but still real. Because after all, who in real life is perfect? As he watches your pencil move expertly across the page, he can't help but think that with each stroke, the creation grows more and more lifelike.

As though she were truly crying out in the pain her heart brings. As though she were alive and breathing.

Almost against his wishes, his hand reaches out to touch the paper, if only to make sure that the actual sketch is truly a mere fabrication of pencil and paper.

As his fingers graze the parchment, that is when you snap out of your concentration.

Eyes widening, you jolt up straight, immediately turning to look at your side.

As soon as your eyes meet Namjoon’s, his hand flinches off the paper. He lets out a soft gasp as he flinches away, surprised by your sudden attention.

Just like with Jungkook, you're frozen in place.

Unable to move.

Unable to function.

Unable to speak.

And just like Jungkook, Namjoon is the same way.

But for a different reason.

He was caught in the act, and he doesn't know what to do.

Your eyes hold him in a sort of bind.

For a moment he forgets what he was doing there, he forgets what his purpose is, for a moment he even forgets why you are there.

For a split second, it's just you and him in a pocket in space.

Your eyes holding his, his eyes holding yours.

Kim Namjoon.

The leader of BTS. The first member of the group you have grown to love. Talented, handsome, a practical genius, he is just as mature and intimidating as you expected him to be.

Despite how close the two of you are sitting, he still seems larger than life, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even real.

He doesn't seem like it after all.

His skin seems too real, too perfect. His hair is too soft, too smooth. His eyes are too warm and too brown.

Almost exactly like the milky chocolate brown you’ve seen so often in so many photos, except for one thing.

As you stare into them, you can see life so clearly alight in them. How they reveal so many emotions at the same time. There are so many that it's almost impossible to read them at all. Serene and peaceful, they are poets' eyes.

So emotional, yet so mysterious and secretive at the same time.

Dreamboat eyes.

“Kim Namjoon?” you whisper, almost unsure if it's him or not.

As you do, his face makes that mixed expression between confusion and amusement as he chuckles softly, looking away and breaking the connection. Holding his hand up to his mouth, he nods, clearing his throat, but not saying anything for a moment.

“Yes, that's who I am, and you must be...Lin Yen?” your heart jumps at the fact that he knows your name.

Speechless, all you can do is nod mutely as he utters another adorable chuckle, one that always seems to remind you of Goofy.

“Jaejin didn't tell me you were an artist.” As soon as he says that, you notice that your sketchbook is still open, and showcasing your imperfect, unready sketch.

Panicking, you fumble to get it closed. Blushing, you hug it tightly to your chest, as though it could erase the fact that he just got a sneak peek into your very soul.

“What's wrong? It was good!” RM asks, worried.

Biting your bottom lip in trepidation, you shake your head, hiding your face.

“Don't lie….” you mumble.

You know it wasn't close to being done, and it wasn't nearly as perfect as it could have been. You're quite disappointed in it at the moment. You feel as though it was too rushed due to the many ideas pouring out from your brain at the exact moment.

As you take an ashamed peek at Namjoon, you find him staring at you, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“What's wrong, are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head as though you were a shy child. You smirk, playing along and nodding very slowly before he continues.

“I see. You should know, however, that you are very talented.” At the compliment, you snort in disbelief, shoving the sketchbook and pencils back safely in your satchel.

“Please.” You sigh. “I know I'm no Picasso, and certainly not talented.”

Finished with packing your art supplies, you are reminded of the reason you are here. A blush of shame appearing on your cheeks, you turn to Namjoon, a bit guiltily.

“And I’m also not known as the bird to rise before the worm.” RM seems a bit confused before you stand and bow to him in apology.

“I am so sorry for being late today. You see I….”

Remembering the receptionist's words from before, you decide to keep the reason to yourself.

“....I have nothing to say for myself. I'm sincerely sorry.”

“Please, there’s no need for that,” Namjoon responds, standing himself and tapping you on the shoulder.

At the touch, you stand straight, only to find an extremely tall man standing before you, looking more intimidating than before. Heart beating fast you gulp, stepping back a bit.

Luckily, he doesn't notice your act of distance and just smiles at you before continuing.

“After all, I was late as well, so let's call it even, huh?”

You smirk and nod, thankful that he’s not too angry about it, but it doesn't completely erase your guilt.

“But now that you mention it….” Namjoon starts and intrigued, you glance up to see him back up a bit as well.

Confused, you raise an eyebrow before he holds out his hand to you.

“My name is Kim Namjoon, I’ll be your boss during your time here. First and foremost, welcome to BigHit entertainment, I hope you enjoy your time working here with us.” He introduces himself, warmly.

Catching on, you take his hand, shaking it gently, and trying to ignore the fact that yours is much more like a child's compared to his.

“Hello, Mr. Namjoon! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my name is Lin Yen and I look forward to working with you!” you respond, returning his grin with one of your own.

After you're finished introducing yourself, he releases your hand and steps back, taking your satchel in his hands and handing it to you.

“Well, Ms. Lin, are you ready to begin?” He asks, and you accept the offer, hiking the satchel on your shoulder before looking up at him in expectation.

“Where do we start?”

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: first day at work is finally starting, yall excited? eheheehehe get ready for some namjooon and yen moments to come

chapter 10 here

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[totallysharkycomplete]

Waiting For you Part One (Ford Pines x Reader) Weird Stuff

“Aren’t you the guy who likes weird stuff?” She blatantly asks.

Ford’s hands freeze on the paper below his digits. He looks up at her and she is smiling. They had run into each other into the hall, Ford had his nose buried in a book, she did as well.

“I’m quite interested in anomalies,” he says, fixing his glasses before picking up the rest of his papers.

Her hand accidentally brushes against his and she can’t help but notice the extra finger. “Amazing,” she whispers. She realizes she is staring and stands back up with her things.

Ford stood up right with his papers held awkwardly to his chest. She extends her hand and introduces herself. He turns the gesture. “Stanford Pines, but please, just Ford is fine.”

“Well, just Ford. Rumor around school is I’m not the only one here obsessed with the paranormal. I’d love to discuss them with you sometime, if you’re free.” She offers with a smile.

Ford can’t believe his ears, a cute girl wants to discuss things with him? “I’m free now.” He blurts.

She digs around in her purse and pulls out a pen and paper and scribbles something down. “I’m actually on my way to a class right now, but I stay on campus.” She passes him the piece of paper and he looks down at it to see she's written her name and phone number. “Is that alright?”

“Yes!” He clears his throat trying to not sound over excited. “I mean, yes. I’d be delighted to discuss anomalies with you.”

“Later days, Ford.” She touches his shoulder as she walks by.

“Fiddleford!” Ford runs up to his friend when he sees him in the quad. “You’ll never believe what just happened!”

“Did ya finally find a ufo?” He teases.

“Almost better! Look!” Ford shows the paper to his friends. He has to take the paper out of his face and hold it back to see what is written.

“Is this a girls number?” Fids looked at his disbelief.

Ford nods excitedly. “I just ran into her in the hall and she started talking about anomalies and gave me her number!”

Fiddleford looked at the paper again at the back of his friend. “Well congrats buddy, you deserve it.” --------- “So you actually believe this stuff exists right? Not just in theory that you think it would be cool, but actually believe it?” She sat across from Ford, hand wrapped around a coffee mug, eyebrow quirked up in question.

Ford could feel his face turn red. “I mean, yes? There are plenty of anomalies that are proven to exist, so I don’t see a reason why there couldn’t be more extreme ones.”

She let out a sigh. “Okay good! Because everyone I’ve talked to about them here only thinks they are cool in theory, but don’t think they could actually be real. What anomalies have you seen proven?”

The two of them sat across from each other in the campus coffee shop. Ford had waited a week before calling her, to not seem overeager.

“Well, mostly small things. Two headed snake, cows with legs growing out of their head, this,” Ford waves his hand and she smiles.

She places her hand out on the table palm up. “Could I?”

Ford hesitantly lays his hand down in hers. Her other hand comes up and runs a finger down each of his. A chill runs down his back at the intimate gesture, but she seems unphased.

“Extraordinary.” She smiles up at him.

“Looks like ufo girl finally got a boyfriend!” Someone sneered as they walked by. She quickly withdrew her hand and placed them in her lap.

“I thought she’d only date bigfoot, looks like she's found another freak to take the place though.” Another girl mocked.

Ford watched as his new friends face twist to where she looked like a kicked puppy. As he started to say something back she grabbed his hand.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “They’re not worth your time.”

“But they can’t talk to you like that!” He insisted.

“I’m used to it.” Her hand withdraws back under the table, she stares out the window. “I went to high school with a lot of the people who go here, they know my interests are uncommon. I never tried to hide what I’ve found interesting but,” she bit her lower lip in thought. “People like to turn a blind eye to what they can’t understand.”

“I’ve always found that to be the case as well.” He agrees with a beaming smiles.

A small smile comes back to her face. “So what do you think about mothman?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting about anomalies, myths, legends, the supernatural, and the paranormal. Ford was surprised about how much interaction with strange things he had.

“I don’t expect you to believe me but when I was hiking with my parents as a kid I got seperated from them. I knew to stay where I was, but by the time I noticed I couldn’t see them I was off the trail. I sat under a tree and cried my eyes out. I stayed there until it got dark. Now, this was over fifteen years ago, I think I was around eight at the time. As soon as the moon shone through the leaves I saw something standing there. It was sort of like a woman, but she looked like she was covered in moss and tree bark. But I remember thinking how beautiful she was. I stopped crying and she held out her hand for me to take. I took her hand and she led me through the woods until I saw lights and heard people calling my name. I looked at her and she smiled, I thanked her and ran towards the light and was found by a search party.” She explained her story.

Ford looked at her in almost disbelief. “That’s…” He was at a loss of words.

“Unbelievable?” Her smile began to fade.

“No! Just… extraordinary!” She assured her.

She had many other run-ins with unexplainable beings and sights. Ford wished he could only be so lucky.

They talked until the sun was down, and a disgruntled employee of the shop had to tell them they were closed. Together they awkwardly stood outside the shop, neither wanting to part ways.

“Would you like to come back to my dorm with me?” Ford finally says before realising what he said might be taken the wrong way. “To continue talking, I mean! My roommate will be there too…”

She agreed and continued their conversation to his place.

Ford unlocked the door mid conversation.

“That’s my thought exactly!” Ford beamed.

“You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that,” she chuckled.

Ford closed the door behind her and noticed someone sitting at the table in the room.

“Fiddleford!” He greeted his friend before introducing you.

“Oh hey, I think you’re in my calculus class.” She offered her hand to shake Fiddleford’s. “Nice to formally meet you.”

“Fiddleford McGucket, ma’am. Feel free to call me Fids. Great to meet you too.” He shook her hand before sitting back at the table. “I was actually working on the homework for that class right now.”

“Really?” She sits beside him at the table looking at the papers. “Do you get it? Because I feel like I’m going to fail, honestly.”

Ford sits across from them and looks at the papers as well.

“Math has always been a breeze for me, so it hasn’t been a problem. I’d offer to give you some help but I’m not much of a teacher.” He smiles at her. “Ford on the other hand is a great teacher, I’m sure he'd be able to help you make sense of it.” Fids shoots his friend a quick glance.

She smiled up at Ford who was looking a little shocked at being offered to be a tutor. “What do you say, Ford? I could really use the extra help.”

Her smile makes Ford’s stomach do a flip. “I’d be happy to oblige.” ---------- “Wait, so, I carry the one and then what?” Her brow was furrowed and pencil poked at her lips.

“We just went over this.” Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Think about what we said, carry the one, then…” He tried to help her pull the thought from her mind.

They sat together at a table in the library. Ford couldn’t help as his eyes grazed down to her pouty lips.

“Sorry, Ford.” She glared at the paper. “I thought I warned you how bad at math I saw when you agreed to help me.”

“That’s alright,” he sighs, sliding the paper back towards himself. “Let’s try again. So for this type of problem,” he begins to explain before she interrupts.

“Wait!” She snatches the paper from him, causing a few people to turn their head at the sound. He watches as she scribbles something down, pauses to think, then scribbles more down. “Is that right?” She slides the paper back to him with an anxious expression on her face.

Ford examines the paper. “Well…” He frowns and she frowns back. “That’s exactly right!”

She jokingly smacks his shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that.” She lets out a huff.

“Assaulting you free tutor? Bold.” He smirks.

“You know I don’t have the money,” she jokes. “Plus if you didn't, who would you have to talk about weird stuff with anyways?” She had made a joke earlier about how she wouldn’t talk to him anymore if he didn’t tutor her.

“Alright,” he redirected the conversation. “Let’s do the next one.” ---------- “I passed!” She bursts through the door of the boy’s dorm without knocking. It has become a habit over the last few months.

Fids startles awake while Ford looks up from the book he’s reading.

“Congratulations!” Ford smiles ear to ear and stands to greet her.

She pulls him into a bear hug which he happily returns.

“It’s all thanks to you!” She pulls away from the hug and Ford begrudgingly lets go of her. “How’d you do, Fids?” She looks at her half asleep friend.

He grumbles something about passing with flying colors before rolling back over on the couch.

She laughs and flops down on Ford’s bed, which has become second nature. He folds his legs criss cross leaning against the headboard. She lays on the lower part of the bed.

“Today was been so great it’s almost unbelievable. Supernatural even.” She turns her head to smile at Ford.

He quirks and eyebrow, interested in what she means. “Care to explain?”

“This morning the person before me in line at the cafe paid for my coffee and a free bagel! Then I found my keychain that I lost the other day.” She explains.

“The ufo one?”

“The ufo one! Can you believe it? So then I head into class, ace this test and go to get lunch. What did they have today for lunch you might ask. Burgers. They had burgers, Ford!” She throws her hands up in disbelief.

“And burgers are your favorite.” He nods.

“My favorite, Ford!” She laughs.

“Sounds like a great day.” He smiles fondly at her.

“Wait, I didn’t even tell you the best part!” She stops him.

“Did you finally see bigfoot?” He teases.

She scowls. “That’s no laughing matter, Stanford.”

He holds up his hand in defense. “So tell me.”

“Okay, so,” she starts to say but covers her hand with her face and wiggles around excitedly. She says something muffled by her hands.

“What?”

She takes a deep breath and moves her hands. “Daniel McDanielson asked me to the formal!”

Ford had to stop himself from frowning. He knew you were infatuated with said boy, but he had gotten some rotten vibes from him. “Really? That’s great.” He smiles.

“I know! Me and Annie are going dress shopping tonight at five! I just had to come tell you about my day.” She informs him with a giggle.

Ford looked at the wall clock. “It’s five o’ eight now.”

She sits up with a start. “Shoot!” She scrambles towards the door. “Thank you again, Ford. I wouldn’t have passed without you!” The door slams shut behind her.

There's a moment of silence before Fiddleford rolls over to look at his friend.

“I know, you were right.” Ford sighs looking defeated.

“How long have I been telling you to ask her? With that cute of a face someone was bound to ask, even with her bein’… unique.” Fids frowns at his friend.

Ford stands up, then sits back down. Opens his mouth to say something then closes it, before falling back into his bed with an exasperated sigh. “I blew it.”

“You can always just tell her how you feel.” Fids offers.

“She clearly doesn’t feel the same way or she wouldn’t be going to the formal with McDanielson.” Ford grumbles. Fids gives his friend a look. “What’s that look supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing, nothing.” Fids rolls over to return to his nap. ---------- Next week Ford decided to stay in his room and study while the formal was going on. He would normally go to the library but decided he didn’t want to see all the couples headed towards the student union. Unfortunately he could hear the distant base of dance music in his dorm. Fortunately it began to rain soon drowning out the sound majority of the sound. Fiddleford was gone for the weekend to see family across the state, so he had the whole dorm to himself.

Ford was deep in his study when there was a knock on the door. He blinked at the door in confusion, before getting up and answering it. He definitely did not expect to see what he saw.

She was on the other side of the door in a beautiful gown that flowed down her body, or rather stuck to her body. She was drenched from head to toe. Her done up hair was stuck flat to the side of her face.

“Greetings,” she offers him a small smile, even though she has tears in her eyes.

“W-what happened?” Ford stammers before ushering in the door. He went to scramble through his draws to find some extra clothes to offer her.

“I got stood up.” She says plainly. “Not that he,” she swallows hard trying to prevent tears from falling. “Not that he had ever planned to show up. His friends made sure to tell me that it was just a prank.”

Ford stops his search to look over at her. She wipes at her cheek as a tear falls. He walks over and places his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t deserve that, I’m so sorry.”

She leans her forehead against his chest and sniffles. “I should have known. I was a fool to think someone like that would be interested in someone like me.”

“Someone like him isn't good enough for you. You’re brilliant, talented, beautiful, so many wonderful things. Someone like you could do so much better.” Ford says honestly. He’s surprised when her shoulders start to shake. She looks up at him with fresh tears in her eyes. “Did I say something wrong?” Ford started to panic.

She pulls him into a hug. “You’re so sweet Stanford, you’re making me cry.”

He returns the hug, noticing how cold she is, he pulls back.

“I know,” she sniffs. “I’m sorry I’m all wet.”

“Here,” he moves back over to his dresser drawers to pull out a pair of sweatpants and a sweater for her to borrow. “They’ll probably be a little big, that's all I have.”

She takes them, lingering her touch on his hand. “I appreciate it.” She walks into their shared bathroom with the dorm next to theirs before awkwardly shuffling back out. “Ford?”

He looks at the girl in front of him. She looks meek compared to her regular confident self. “Yes?”

Her face turns red before she even says anything. “I need you to unzip me.”

Now it’s Ford’s turn for his face to turn red. “Oh,” he clears his throat. “Alright.”

She turns around as he walks up to her. He gently takes the fabric in one hand and the zipper in the other, before slowly pulling the zipper down. His large hand comes to rest at the bottom of her back. He can’t help but eye over the exposed skin. She can tell the zipper is undone but doesn't move away, enjoying the warmth of his hand on her. There’s a moment of silence before Ford moves his hand away.

She turns and thanks him. Holding the dress up in the front, then closes the door to change.

Ford takes a deep breath to calm himself. He curses himself for getting worked up just from seeing her exposed back. He busies himself microwaving some water for hot chocolate. He has two mugs ready when he hears the door open.

She steps out from the bathroom rolling up the sweater leaves so she can access her hands. The bottom of the sweat pants have been cuffed too, but still slightly drag behind her.

Ford smiles at her and offers her a mug. She takes it and sits next to Ford on his bed.

“You can sleep here tonight, if you’d like.” He offers after a beat. “Fids is visiting family this weekend and will be gone. I don’t think he’d mind if you used his bed, although, I can't tell you the last time I saw him wash his sheets.”

“Thank you, Ford. I don’t want to go back to my room. I think my roommate might have been in on the prank.” You confess, smile wavering.

“Although we will be breaking the rules.” He tries to lighten the mood.

“I’ve already slept over once.” You laugh, reminding him of the time you fell asleep on his couch and neither boy had the heart to wake you until you had to go to your 7 am class the next day.

He chuckles at the memory. There's another moment of silence as you both drink from your mugs.

“Thank you again.” You say.

“Don’t mention it.” He thinks for a second then speaks. “This hot chocolate is nice but would you like something stronger?”

“Hell yes.” ---------- “Truth or dare?” She asks Ford for the fifth time, it’s his turn.

They're both sitting cross legged on his bed facing each other. She has her back against the headboard. Both their mugs have been filled with a dark amber liquid.

“Truth,” he says for the fifth time. She scowls. “Alright dare!” He rolls his eyes.

“That’s the spirit Stanley Boy!” She pokes his shoulder and he chuckles. “I dare you… to moon the common area!”

His face flushes, but he gets up and looks out the window. He moves over a chair and looks at her, then the floor, with almost a disappointed look. He pulls down the back of his pants with it facing the window and she howls with laughter. Quickly he pulls up his pants and returns to the bed.

“Hope there’s no werewolves out there or they’ll be turning tonight!” You joke.

“Alright, truth or dare.” he asks, refusing to acknowledge what he just did.

She thinks for a moment. “Truth.”

He thinks on his words before speaking. “If I had asked you for the formal, would you have said yes?” Her eyes fall from him to her mug.

“Yes.” She almost whispers. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why didn’t you ask me for the formal?” She's looking up at him from under her lashes.

He almost chokes as he drinks from his cup. “I was going to but I took too long and some else asked you.” He frowns. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she finishes the rest of her drink and sets the mug on his nightstand.

“Did you really have a crush on McDanielson?” Ford looks away.

“I just thought he was handsome.” She frowns, fiddling with her hands. “And maybe just a little hopeful someone like him would be interested in someone like me.”

“Anyone would be lucky to be with someone like you.” He says without thinking.

“You’re breaking the rules,” she reminds him. “No commenting on the truths.”

“Right, sorry. Dare.” He says without being asked.

She looks up at him and then looks away. Her tongue darts out over her lips quickly. “I dare you to…” she thinks, unsure if she should really say it. “Kiss me.”

He looks at her with disbelief, before she looks back at him, then away. He sets his mug down before rising to his knees to move closer. His hand moves to her cheek and she leans into the touch. He can feel her breath on his lips and shudders. He pressed a gentle kiss onto her lips, then another, and another. Her hands move to rest on his chest as she presses back into the kiss.

The kisses become sloppy and passionate. Slowly she starts to slide back onto the bed. He follows her down, hovering above her. Her hands grab at his collar pulling him as close as she can get him. He chuckles into the kiss and she smiles.

She takes his hand not on her face and moves it to her hip. “You can touch me, Ford.”

He freezes. He had never been this intimate with a girl before, he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. She could sense his hesitation.

“Only if you want to. We can stop here if it’s too much.” She gives him another gentle kiss.

“No, I mean, I want to, but I’ve never, I don’t want to…” He fumbles over his words. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

She pulls her head back and smiles at him. “I haven’t either. I mean, with anyone. But I trust you.”

His heart skips a beat. How could she be so perfect? He gives her another kiss. “You can tell me to stop, and I will.” He returns to giving her passionate kisses, as he runs his hand up and down her side a few times before slipping his thumb under the sweater to brush across her skin.

She sighs at the contact, giving him confidence. He moves on knee in between her legs to get over her better. He moves both his hands to her side and slips them under his sweater she's wearing and caresses up her sides, moving it up toward her shoulders. He doesn't expect her to pull it off and over her head.

He can’t help himself as he starts covering her chest with soft kisses. Her hand moved to tangle in his hair, slightly pulling at his brown locks. He lets out a soft groan, moving to one of her nipples he takes it into his mouth and gives it a quick experimental suck.

She leans into the touch with a moan. ‘That’s a good sign.’ He notes to himself, moving to her other nipple to do the same thing. She moans out his name and he groans against her breasts. He wondered how she could turn him on with barely even touching him.

Her hand moved to tug at his shirt. He obliges, moving back to help her slip off his shirt. Instantly her hands are all over his chest, roaming from his shoulders to his soft stomach. All this attention to himself is making him embarrassed so he goes back to kissing her, except this time he kisses her jaw, down her neck. He remembers his brother telling him that drives girls crazy, and the reaction he gets does not disappoint.

She wraps her arms around his neck and whispers his name. He stops at the base of her neck of suck a soft bruise. He’s about satisfied with his mark when she moves her leg under him and it brushes against his erection tenting in his pants. He groans deep into her neck.

“Ford, I, I,” she stamers trying to find words. “I want you, Ford.”

He never thought he’d hear her say that. “Me too,” he kisses her. “I mean, but you, I want you.”

She giggles into the kiss.

The whole exchange is sloppy and new and experimental. Ford has to root around Fid’s nightstand to find protection. They laugh and moan. She has to show him the right way to touch her body, and when he gets it right she's a whimpering mess. He is soon after her.

They lay in bed together after. She’s pressed into his chest, her head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her body.

“I’ve never felt like that before.” She says against his chest. She feels him chuckle.

“Me either.” He confesses.

There is a beat of silence before she props herself to look at him. An almost worried look on her face. “Was this… This wasn’t a…” She sighs. “Were you just after my body?”

Ford’s taken aback. How could she even think that? He sits them both up so he can talk to her. “If I did anything to make you think that I apologize. I adore you, mind, body, and soul.” He kisses her forehead and when he leans back she’s smiling. “Were you just after my body?” He jokes.

“Oh absolutely.” She jokes. ----------- Summer was rapidly approaching. Ford was going back home to work to help his family. His girlfriend, he proudly got to say, was going to do field work in Roswell with a world remound ufo hunter. Currently the two of them were in his dorm packing for the return home.

“I just hope he’s not actually crazy.” She sighs.

“He can’t be much crazier than us.” Ford jokes.

“I suppose so.” She thinks, then frowns. “I’m gonna miss you.”

He wraps her in a hug from behind. “I’ll miss you too. I know my mother is going to kill me for not bringing you home for her to meet you.”

“Maybe I’ll have time to meet your family at the end of summer. I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be gone.” She reminds him.

“That’s one of the worst parts.” He kisses her collarbone and she giggles.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” She assured him.

“I love you.” He confesses.

“I love you, too.” She turns to kiss him. ----------- “Stanford!” His mother gasps. “You never told me how beautiful she was!”

There was one day left before she could move back into the dorms, she had arrived back in town that one day. Of course Ford was happy to host her at his childhood home, but warned her his parents were a bit… much.

His mother was pulling her into a hug and grabbed her chin tilting her head side to side. Saying how she could afford to eat a little more. She managed to shake his father’s hand. “I’m impressed,” was all he had to say. Also she met his little brother Shermie before Ford pulled her up the stairs to his room and closed the door.

“Sorry about that,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, they seem nice.” She assures him.

She takes a second to look around the room, there's two twin beds one on each side of the room. She can tell which side is Ford’s, it’s covered in papers and books. The other side however has a bunch of things related to boxing and copies of ‘Hot Babe’ magazine.

“Your brother doesn’t look the type to be into boxing.” She says aloud.

“Those aren't Sermie’s.” He sits on his bed with a sigh.

“Oh, they’re yours?” She looks puzzled.

“They’re my brother’s,” he waves his hand, almost dismissing the idea of him. “My other brother. My twin.”

She beams at him. “You never told me you had a twin. That’s exciting!”

He frowns and furrows his brow. “We haven't talked in a few years. Parents kicked him out after he ruined my chances at a scholarship to a good college.”

“I’m sorry, Ford. That’s sad.” She walks over towards him.

“It’s nothing. Besides if I didn’t end up where I am now I wouldn’t have met you.” He reaches out a hand and she takes it and he pulls her closer.

She smiles ear to ear. “Still, I can’t believe you kept that secret from me for so long.” She decided to make a bold move and straddle his lap. He lets out a choked sound. “What other secrets are you not telling me?” She leans her forehead against his and they kiss. ----------- Their last year of college goes by in a flash. The year is full of fond memories of her and Ford spending late nights together studying, and also not studying. There’s also many late nights of her, Ford, and Fids staying up late to debate whether or not other realities and dimensions could exist.

“If other realities exist, there’s definitely one where everyone had an evil twin,” she jokes. She's sat on the couch while the boys are at the table.

“It’s a possibility!” Ford insists.

“In that reality I’d definitely be dating your evil twin instead of you,” she jeers.

“I already have one in this reality,” Ford jokes.

“But what if every choice you have made opens up a new reality? If you hadn’t gone to college, or you didn’t eat a bagel for breakfast? Anything else could have happened.” Fids argues.

“I don’t get why you’re so against the idea when you yourself have seen such unbelievable things.” Ford gives her a look.

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “I guess I’ve just thought things I’ve seen are ancient beings who have always been on Earth, or things from a different galaxy. However I do see where it would make sense if there was a rip or a tear in our reality that allowed things to come through. Things that we find odd but would be normal in another reality or dimension.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean!” Ford beams.

And that’s exactly what he set out to do. He’s given a grant to study anomalies in a small town called Gravity Falls.

“Did you ask her yet?” Fids asks Ford as his friend walks into their shared dorm. Fids is packing boxes of belongings as the year comes to a close.

Ford sighs and slumps down at the table giving him an answer.

“You do remember what happened last time you waited to ask her something right?” Fid reminds him.

Ford smirks. “That ended up working out just fine if I remember correctly.”

Fids rolls his eyes.

“Plus I haven’t seen her today.” He informs, then there's a knock on the door.

“That'll be her now,” Fids slips on his coat as he walks to the door. “Told her you needed to talk to her about something today.”

“Fiddleford, really?” Ford sighs but rises to greet her.

She gives Fids a quick hug as he walks out the door before closing it behind him. She turns to look at Ford with a worried expression.

“Are you breaking up with me?” She blurts.

Ford is taken aback. “What, no! Are you?”

She laughs. “No, I hadn’t planned on it. Fids didn’t say what you wanted to talk about and I guess my anxiety got the better of me.”

“No, I…” Ford rubs the back of his neck. “You know about my grant to study anomalies. I was wondering if… you’d like to join me?”

The looks she gives him is almost of heartbreak. “Oh, Ford.” She cups his face and gives him a kiss. “I, geez, If you had asked me two days ago I would have dropped everything to go but…” She sighs leaning away from his face. He wraps his hands around her waist. “I signed a year long contract to do field work in Roswell. It’s a paid internship.”

He feels his heart slightly break, and leans his forehead against hers. “That’s what I get for not asking sooner.”

“But, when my year is over, yes. If you still want me to that is.” She gives him a weak smile.

He surprises her by picking her up and spinning her in a circle before giving her a passionate kiss. “Yes, definitely, absolutely.”

#ford pines x reader #ford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #reader insert #gravity falls reader insert #long haul #mild smut scene #first time #check ao3 for more tags

[simpsiren]

lee taeyong x reader

“my baby dont like it when you come around”

description. a new guy in college asks you for help to get rid of his girlfriend and slowly falls for you instead through your heated times with him.

genre. ANGST, college au, cheating au, bold/ arrogant reader x shy taeyong

warnings. none? except for the fact that this basically about cheating and having strong emotional tensions with each other, slighty suggestive

a/n. hihii i always thought of doing a ff about their baby dont like it song because its been in my head for so long HAHA also the lyrics are just uHem but yeah so anyways buckle up because theres going to be a lot of angst and tensionn also i didnt notice that i wrote so much like damn aNywAys enjoyy!

you walk into class lazily, expecting the same thing to happen again. as you step into the lecture hall, your eyes immediately went to your seat. you sigh and push you glasses up before walking over.

“i swear when will people stop doing this?” you mutter to yourself, shoving all the gifts off your table, making it all drop to the ground and producing a loud noise. everyone’s eyes are being drawn to your direction. you roll your eyes as mark takes his usual seat beside you.

“that’s the most you got this week.” mark laughs in disbelief, looking down onto the floor. you flash a fake smile at him, making him laugh even more. “its so annoying. none of them even look good.” your eyes scan through the gifts on the floor, seeing one that actually looks decent. you pick it up and examine it closely. mark gets near you and does the same.

“ill keep this one. looks expensive.” you shrug, shoving the expensive looking silver necklace into your bag. mark scoffs, letting his body sink into his seat. “i love the fact that you only care about the value of the gift.” 

you click your tongue and stand up, proceeding to pick up all the useless gifts you received from the random guys on campus and walking over to the trash can, throwing it all away. you hear gasps and mutters around the lecture hall. you clearly couldnt care less, walking back, taking your seat and bringing out your materials.

“it cant be helped that youre the most beautiful one around here.”

“you think i dont know that? people do know that they shouldnt mess with me right? yet i need to keep up with unknown admirers and random texts of confession.” you let out a long sigh, as you rest your chin on the palm of your head, leaning onto the table. 

“you admit youre beautiful. your confidence is truly amazing.” mark comments. you kept your eyes to the front as you watch your professor walk in, along with a new guy you’ve never seen before. your eyes remained on the guy, watching him climb up  the stairs and walking to the seat next to you. 

your attention changes to the professor as she starts talking. but your ears immediately diverted its attention to somewhere else, particularly to the guy next to you. 

“why did you seat next to her? do you know how dangerous that is?” you hear the girl sitting behind him whisper. its no doubt that she purposely whispered loud enough for you to hear, wanting to make your blood boil. you ket your cool and focused on the lecture, taking notes accordingly.

“how so?”

“she’s hard to talk to. she only had mark as her friend and she gets pissed easily. her temper is the worst around here and she’s the most feared. a lot of guys like her for some reason and-” 

“are you done, sweetie?” you lick your bottom lip as you turned around the face the girl. you hear mark hiding his laugh with a cough. “if you are, i really suggest you shut your mouth before i sew it shut for you.” your eyes glared at hers, staring at her intensively. you knew that it scared her when she immediately looks away. you chuckle in amusement before turning back to the front.

you look to the side, to see the guy’s eyes opened wide, with an eyebrow raised. you smile softly.

“lee taeyong.” you whisper, reading off the keychain attached to his pencil case, nodding your head before paying attention to the lecture again. the guy coughs softly and faced forward as well.

the lecture was now over and you start to pack up. you take your time since you know that it would be hectic to get through the large crowd of students who are also exiting as well as being able to avoid bumping into any guys and have them confess their useless affection towards you.

you were however intrigued to find out what’s going on outside when you hear someone whispering about the fact that there’s an extremely pretty girl waiting outside the campus.

by then, only you and mark were in the lecture hall. you figured it would be a good time to step out and find out the reason behind all the talking outside.

as you and mark walk down the hallway to the entrance, you tilt your head as you see a crowd forming at the gate. you sigh, taking off your glasses and rubbing your temples. “how the fuck are we suppose to get out?” you turn to mark with your eyebrows furrowed.

“im sure they’ll move aside once you come in.” mark places his hand on your shoulder and taps it lightly before walking forward towards the huge crowd with full confidence. you swear you can burst any minute as the the mumbles of the people fill your ears even more as you walk closer.

the moment one person makes eye contact with you. their eyes widened and signal their friends to quiet down. eventually, the noise starts to lower down as you made you way through the crowd. eyes were glued on you as you follow behind mark. you swiftly clean your glasses with the cloth in your pocket and put them back on.

as your vision starts to become clear, you notice that the one standing beside the girl is the lee taeyong guy from ealier. you walk over to them immediately.

you turn your head slightly to the back, signalling everyone to get back to what they were doing, and as always, they obey and the crowd dispersed itself. you look back to the front to where the cause of the nuisance started.

you eyed the girl intensively, looking up and down, observing every inch of her. you had to admit, she is quite the beauty. perfect wavy brown hair, almond shaped eyes, nicely drawn eyebrowa and plump pink lips. her body in the black tight fitting dress is amazing. it curved her body in all the right places.

you look up to see taeyong and the girl looking back at you with a raised brow. you faked a wide smile. “i dont think its wise to meet your boyfriend right at the gates of school.. especially when you’re this pretty. id fuck you.” you lick your lips teasingly and chuckle soon after.

“bitch the fuck?” mark whispers. you let out a loud, cunning laugh. “or perhaps...”

your eyes immediately connected with taeyong’s. you saw the fear yet a tint of interest in his eyes. you liked it. as you walk past the couple, you run your hand down taeyong’s chest. taeyong freezes as the girl’s mouth gape open, pulling taeyong away instantly with her arm around his waist. “id fuck your boyfriend.”

your head jerks toward taeyong as you whisper into his ear, but loudly enough for the girl to hear. with that, you wink at the both of them and walk off. mark smiles kindly before following behind you.

“that was... wow.” mark says to you, taking out his phone from his back pocket. you sigh, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“honestly who is dumb enough to meet their significant other just outside campus? they should be taught a lesson. and to think that taeyong guy is new.”

“his name is taeyong?”

you nod. mark nods back in reply as the two of you walk ahead to the small secluded cafe shop nearby where the two of you would usually hang out.

“i really hope i dont see him on friday. does he look like he’s the kind to skip lecture?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea while mark drinks his coffee.

mark shrugs, laying his back against the chair. “i dont think so? he has that ‘bad boy but obedient’ vibes.” you eyebrows furrow, but you slowly nod your head as you start to understand his view of taeyong.

“well i hope he wont let his girlfriend and him cause such commotion again. it took us so long to get out.” you whine, looking at the time on your phone. “we fucking got out like 30 minutes after! you know how much i hate getting off campus late.”

mark chuckles, running his hand through his hair. “we know, sweetie. we know.”

“dont call me that i swear-”

“suckass.”

“bitch.”

the two of you laugh happily and take a sip of your drinks at the same time before discussing about today’s lecture.

friday comes and you see the gifts placed neatly on your table yet again. you roll your eyes and slouch into your seat. you are now too tired to even throw away the gifts and you give up doing so.

more people soon start to fill the seats of the lecture hall. when the professor walks in, you notice that the seat beside you is empty. you purse your lips into a thin line and shrug your shoulders, thinking that taeyong isnt going to come today.

“taeyong. its only your second day yet you’re already late.” your head lifts up from your table to see taeyong standing by the door. you rest your chin on the palm on your hand as you were intrigued by him again like the first time you saw him on wednesday. why? you dont even know yourself.

taeyong rushes in and sits down next to you. what surprised you is the fact that the same girl is standing outside. the murmurs and whispers come again. you swear you can get a headache from it.

you see her blowing a kiss to taeyong, making everyone shout and fangirl over her before she leaves and the hall is back to being silent. you turn your head to taeyong, who immediately look back at you.

“is she that crazy over you?” you ask, taking out your pen and beginning writing notes. “yeah. but i fucking hate it.” taeyong replies. you chuckle lowly as your eyes remain on the projector yet you could see taeyong blinking his eyes, as if you had an effect on him.

“she seems rich. you’re after her money, arent you?”

“it’s because i cant get away from her parents.”

“hm its also for the money. i can tell.” you look down at his outfit, a lot of it are designer and authentic clothing items. you laugh softly with amusement.

“why are people scared of you?” your eyes immediately darkens and you slowly turn your head to face taeyong, staring down at him. taeyong sucks air into his cheeks and glances somewhere else. laughing quietly at his reaction, you smile softly.

“let’s just say i have a bad reputation. yet im popular for some reason. its seriously annoying.”

taeyong looks down at the gifts that you have thrown off your table. “i can tell. you seem bold and intimidating.”

you take out your phone to scroll through your social medias in boredom. “bold and intimidating huh? you’re an interesting one. i like it.” you glance at the clock when you hear people starting to pack up. you too start to pack up as well.

taeyong is still seated on his seat, writing down the notes he missed from talking to you. you figured that he couldn’t multitask like you. before you stand up to get out of the hall you turn to taeyong. again it looked like his senses were all heightened and he’s being wary of you.

you got closer to him, faces inches apart. he didn’t move at all. his eyes still on you. you smirk softly, licking your bottom lip as you eyed him narrowly like looking at a delicious candy.

“looks like you arent intimidated by me. i like you.” you whispers softly, laughing loudly as you see mark waiting for you at the door. you quickly got up and went to mark. as the two of you exited the hall, you look back to taeyong. he’s still glued to his seat, not moving, his mouth gaping open slightly.

“oi let’s go.” you hear mark shout as you notice him already walking away. you smirk widely and follow behind mark.

“im sorry what?”

“let me cheat on her with you.”

“no.”

you glare at taeyong as you take a bite from your meal. you and taeyong are having lunch on campus together and it never fails to have eyes glued onto you whenever you’re with taeyong. you’re only option is to hang out with tayeong since mark didnt come today. you have yet to ask him why.

“come on please! if she sees me with someone like you she’ll be too scared to get near me then i can finally break up with her.” taeyong whines, grabbing your cup of iced tea and taking a sip.

“protect your reputation, taeyong. look around. you being with me is already giving people a bad impression of you.” taeyong does what you say, looking around and realising that a lot of people were staring at you two. he turns back to find you picking on your food.

“you’re the only one i know around here. itll only be until me and her break.”

you eyes trailed up from your food to meet taeyong’s. you put your fork down and sat up straight, tilting your head slightly. “what’s in it for me?” people around you know very well that wouldnt do something without getting something back in return. it didnt take taeyong long to know that due to the constant whispers about you around campus.

“ill let you have the money she gives me?” taeyong says nervously. you click your tongue. you were definitely intrigued when taeyong says the word ‘money’. taeyong smiles sheepishly as he waits for your answer.

“ill do it.” taeyong’s face lits up in an instant. you however were smiling devilishly, looking down at your prey. “get ready though. im not an easy one.”

taeyong blinks his eyes rapidly. his eyes definitely says he’s intimidated. but his body says otherwise, looking calm and composed.

“i know. itll be fun.” your eyes widen slightly as you see taeyong smirking under his soft smile. you raise your eyebrows and chuckle in amusement.

“oh im sure it will, ty.”

“you sure that’ll work?” you roll your eyes and rub your temples. you lost count of how many times you have tried to explain the plan to taeyong.

“you said she comes here to have coffee before she picks you up right? she doesnt know we ended early today so we’ll probably run into her. then i’ll just flirt with you or something. just follow my lead.” taeyong nods slowly. 

you shrug your shoulders and let your body sink into the comfortable seat. you and taeyong are at a pretty high class cafe and it felt good to drink some quality tea instead of the cheap ones you have to put up with living as a broke college student.

you drink your tea as you eyed taeyong. he looks anxious, constantly looking out the window and sucking his draw despite his cup already being empty. you groan to catch taeyong’s attention. “you need to chill. have you never flirt with anyone before?” taeyong shakes his head, biting his straw. you gape your mouth and clap your hands.

“no way! you’re good looking. you cant tell me that snobby girl is the only one you ever dated.” 

“she is.”

you choked on your drink, proceeding you laugh hysterically. taeyong furrows his eyebrow. “you better find a better girlfriend once you break up with her ty.” taeyong frowns, running his hand through his silk soft-looking hair. “im not interested in dating.” taeyong mumbles. you only hum in response. 

looking up from taeyong, you see the girl walking down the street, about to enter the cafe. you tapped taeyong’s hand quickly, making him flinch. 

“okay she’s coming, act natural. like how we are now.”

“wait what i-”

you immediately peck his lips to shut him up. taeyong widens his eyes in shock, his body completely frozen at your touch. you smirked widely as you see the girl standing outside, with her eyes filled with anger and her hand clenching into fists tightly. you chuckle in an evil manner. “her she comes.” you whisper in a sing-song tone.

taeyong looks straight at the door as she finally steps into the cafe and stomps over to your table. you smile widely, putting in your innocent act.

“who’s she, tae?” taeyong doesn’t reply, looking at you. you raise both your eyebrows and roll your eyes. slowly, your fingers crawl up to taeyong’s hand on the table, touching his fingers as you jerked your head to her.

“a friend.” taeyong replies simply.

she scoffs. you ran your hand through your hair. “and why are you guys here?”

you click your tongue and chuckle lowly. you look at her, noticing that she’s eyeing you like a prey. clearly she’s jealous right now. with her arms crossed and eyes. you knew.

“we finished quite early actually. you dont mind me hanging out with him, do you? im sure you know he’s new and im his only friend.” you say softly, turning to taeyong and biting your lip seductively. a smirk slowly creeped up taeyong’s mouth. you’re surprised that he suddenly looks confident rather than the first time you two met when he was looking all intimidated and nervous around you.

“yeah, its true.” taeyong winks playfully at you. you only hum in response before looking up to the girl. she furrows her eyebrows in anger.

“hm you wanna hang out with him, right? alright ill leave.” you stand up and shove your phone into your back pocket. as you walk past behind taeyong, you bend down beside him and got close to his ear, acting as if you were whispering something as you stared at the girl. oh the look on her face. you laugh inside your head. you stand up straight and ran your fingers seductively behind taeyong’s shoulders before exiting the cafe. you could have sworn that you heard her growling under her breathe.

“you should have seen the look on her face!” you laugh crazily, slamming your hand against your thigh and taking another sip of mark’s drink. you were too lazy to buy your own.

“man why didn’t you tell me all this before?! i would have followed you guys and watch the shit go down.” mark whines. you grin widely and shake your head.

“im so sorryy.” you take in deep breathes to calm yourself down.

“taeyong must have been surprised when he sees you go into that mode. i remember the first time you helped me get my parents to not force me to be in relationships after they knew im “dating” someone like you.” mark chuckles.

“well he was shocked at first. but he surprisingly acted well.”

mark nods his head. you sigh as you look around the campus and you see taeyong walking with his headphones on. you smile softly.

“if you’ll excuse me, ill put on my ‘cheating’ role now and go to taeyong. text me alright!” you stand up from your seat and did you signature handshake with mark before speeding over to where taeyong was.

your hand loops around his arm as you pull him close. taeyonh flinches but relaxes when he notice it’s you. “so how did she react?” you ask, walking happily.

taeyong shrugs and takes off his earpiece, unplugging it from his phone and shoving it into his tote bag. “she was definitely jealous. she gave me a lecture on how i shouldnt be with you cuz you looked like a bitch.” you gasp sarcastically, placing your hand on your chest as you gaped your mouth widely. taeyong chuckles at your reaction.

“a bitch? what about her? tsk..” you roll your eyes.

“i can safely assure you that you’re way better than her.” you laugh in response.

“of course i am.” you wink at taeyong. “also what’s her name? you never told me.”

“soyoung. oh by the way.” taeyong stops in his tracks. you stop as well and let your arm off taeyong’s. taeyong digs into his tote bag. after awhile, he pulls out money. you smile almost immediately.

“she gave it to me. in a way to bribe me not to hang out with you.” you lean forward and snatch the money away and counted it. and boy was it a lot of money.

“she’d pay this much for you to stay away from me? she really is a bitch.” you slid the money into your wallet.

“too bad though. she’ll be seeing me with you more often.” you start to walk forward, but you stop and turn your head back. taeyong was standing still and staring at you. you see him snap out of hid thoughts and shake his head before walking towards you.

“sorry about that. let’s go.” you only shrug your shoulders as the two of you walk out of campus.

“you’re meeting her this sunday?” taeyong nods. you look around taeyong’s apartment. it wasnt big, big enough for two people but he’s the only one lving here. the decor is simple and he place doesn’t look messy. you figured it suited him well.

“we’ll be together before you’re suppose to meet her and have her see us together.”

taeyong widens his eyes and tilts his head. “that’ll be intense.” you raise an eyebrow and chuckle.

“isnt that what cheating is all about, ty?” you shake your head, acting disappointed. you hear him let out a ‘tsk’. you laugh.

“all right. looks like you’re taking me out sunday night. ill dress up.”

“dont you always dress up? your outfits upstages everyone when i see you on campus.”

you peck taeyong’s cheek playfully. taeyong jumps back at your sudden move. you smiled widely.

“you know i always look good.”

you suddenly feel taeyong pulling you and placing you on his lap. you tilt your head in confusion. “what’s this?”

taeyong’s breathing slows down as his eyes glaze your face intensively, as if admiring every inch of it.

“sounds weird but i find you very fucking hot.. its irresistible.” taeyong whispers, raising his hand to twirl a section of your hair around his fingers.

“oh and please book me a grab home. im heading out now so text me aites.” you stand up from the couch and wave to taeyong before leaving his apartment and closing the door.

as you were waiting for taeyong to pick you up on his motorbike, you look down at your outfit. you’re wearing a really short grey pleated skirt with a white lace bralette and a oversized checkered blazer as an outerwear. you don’t usually wear skirts often, but you did need to play the part of being revealing so as to “attract” taeyong’s attention. you put the quotations on attract but you dont even know if taeyong would be attracted or not. you slightly hoped that he would for some reason.

you see a motorbike coming to a halt. you walk towards it as taeyong gets off. he takes off his helmet, ruffling his hair as he went to the trunk. you blink your eyes rapidly as you’ve never seen taeyong look this good. you snap out of your thoughts when taeyong passed you your helmet. the both of you wear the helmets at the same time as you give way for taeyong to get on the bike. after adjusting a little, taeyong jerks his head to gesture you to get on.

“sit properly if you dont want guys staring at your exposed thighs.” taeyong says, his voice being muffled by the shield of helmet. you pull your down your skirt slightly and rest your hand on your thighs, waiting for him to take off, but he doesn’t.

“put your hands somewhere else. it’s dangerous.”

“ouh right right..” you look at your sides to find any handles to hold onto but there weren’t any. you stare down at his back. shurgging, you wrap your arms around his waist and interlock your fingers togther. taeyong turns his head to you and looks forward before starting the mottorbike and driving. you dont even know where you’re headed but oh well.

after a drive of about 20 minutes, you finally feel the motorbike stop. you look beside you and notice there was a restaurant. a very high class one. you gap your mouth open in disbelief as you get off the bike and take off your helmet.

“you have dates to these places often?” you turn around to face taeyong who sighs and gets close to you to take your helmet, nodding slowly.

you scoff, your eyes scanning the entrance of the place up and down. you feel taeyong’s hand snake around your waist. “let’s not go inside yet.” you raise an eyebrow.

“then where are we going?”

taeyong leads you to the entrance of the restaurant, where there are benches aligned. you nod your head once taeyong take a seat on the bench and sit doen beside him.

“the place is secluded so id normally see people making out around here.” taeyong comments, glancing at his phone to check the time.

“well there’s a bar a few blocks down so i guess that’s why.” you only nod in response, looking in front as you watch the cars drive by. it made you think of one thing. “wait what does her car look like-“

taeyong swiftly wraps his arm around your waist and pull you on his lap. you blink at him as he jerks his head to the back of you. you assume that she arrived. you arch your back and let your hair flow down on one shoulder before wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. taeyong’s grip on your waist tightens as you ran you hand through his hair and tilt your head to deepen the kiss even more. you felt taeyong’s hand roaming from your waist to your thigh, going up and down slowly.

for some reason, you were enjoying it. his lips on yours. you felt his hunger, neediness for you as he held you close as if to claim you’re his. you felt the same nonetheless. you liked it a lot. the two of you knew very well that this isnt acting anymore. it was real. the heat and needy tension. you didnt feel such a thing in a long time.

you suddenly flinch when you felt a hand on your shoulder, pushing you off taeyong’s lap. you turn around. “oh look who’s here! its soyoung.”

“the fuck did i just saw you doing with taeyong?” soyoung pushes you back further.

“i was about to have dinner with taeyong here.. but id figure it would be better to get free appetisers instead of having to pay for one.” you say confidently, brushing your thumb over you bottom lip as your eyes stared into hers.

soyoung scoffs and folds her arms. she looks down at your outfit. “you’ve been trying to seduce taeyong from the very start.” soyoung mutters under her breathe. you tilt your head as you grin widely.

“of course that’s what i’ve been doing idiot. taeyong really enjoys being with me though.” you turn your head to taeyong who was smirking widely and eyeing your outfit hungrily.

soyoung rubs her temples. with no words coming out her mouth, she turn away and walks to her car, getting into the driver’s seat and driving off. you slowly turn your head to taeyong who’s mouth is wide open. you laugh hysterically.

“oh my fucking god that was awesome!” you shout, clapping as you sit back down beside taeyong. taeyong smiles widely. “you really do have it in you.” taeyong compliments. you nudge his arm. “if you say you underestimated me i will beat you up.”

“please do. ruin me. every single moment i spend with you makes me fall and want you more. i love the dangerous side of you,”

#nct #nct 2020 #nct 127 #nct taeyong #lee taeyong #lee taeyong x reader #nct taeyong x reader #nct x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenarios #taeyong angst #nct ff #taeyong ff #taeyong fanfic #taeyong fluff #taeyong #taeyong x reader #nct taeyong ff