#except I did have time to bake something but I decided to be lazy until I had to get store bought

[staresatyoufromaccrosstheroom]

My gender is weird but not in like trans/gender non conforming way. (To preface this I am from the south and was raised Christian so coming out kinda isn’t an option.) But like my gender is like babysitting your neighbors 3 year old whose across the room from you. And everyone online is saying make sure you’re always watching the kid, they’re known to be handfuls,,,, but like not this one??? Like I look up from my book and he ain’t crying or screaming or drawing on the walls or nothing little man’s just sitting there so I go back to reading. I was born with tits and dresses are nice but makeup is a hassle and I like my long hair but I have shoulders bigger than half the guys in my grade and if my boobs were to fall off tomorrow I’d just kinda shrug and move on and live flat chested. At the moment I’m saying I’m allocishet but if someone were to genuinely ask me about my pronouns idk kid’s not screaming yet so she/her is fine but also if someone started calling me by different pronouns I’d just shrug and see if the new kid starts screaming and if not yeah sure those pronouns are cool too I guess.

[gloryofluv]

Situations that end with MC Walking Away Brothers and Datables (-Luke)

This is supposed to be funny, humorous, fluffy, and teasing. Obviously, insinuations are there.

I didn't do Luke because you shouldn't walk away from children or dogs. Haha! No, really, I just didn't want to do one for him so apologies.

Lucifer-

MC walked into the library to see Lucifer. He hadn’t seen them as he turned over several books on random shelves. He also took books from one shelf and placed them on other shelves. MC watched for two minutes before clearing their throat.

“What are you doing?” MC asked.

Lucifer jumped and turned around with an eyebrow raised. “Nothing, and if I were you, I’d keep this to yourself.”

MC shakes their head and leaves. So Satan was right. Lucifer goes out of his way to fuck with him.

Mammon-

MC was walking by the bathroom and stopped at the door after hearing someone wailing.

Wait… that was Mammon singing that song they played for him. Treasure by Bruno Mars. How fucking cute! MC ducks closer to the door and smiles brightly. Damn, he was cute. Was he singing about them?

MC sneakily opens the door to see Mammon in the bathtub. He was holding up Goldie and singing. Ugh.

MC moves to shut the door, but he sees. “MC, wait! It’s not what it looks like!”

Moving down the hallway as fast as they can, Mammon was trying to hold up his towel. “Wait! MC! Come on!”

Leviathan-

Leviathan showed MC his recent picture compilations he was creating for TSL and Rui-chan on his editing software. It was impressive.

Levi gets up to retrieve a figure he modeled one of the frames out of when MC clicks the other project he had minimized. Oh, boy, they shouldn’t have done that.

“MC, I have the,” he stopped dead.

The project was massively just about MC. Quite a few of the shots were of them together. He even had little hearts littering the frames.

“Levi, I love you, but I have to go,” MC murmured with the brightest blush and left the room.

Satan-

MC and Satan decide to go to the cat shelter. They were petting all the cats and feeding them treats. It was all in all a great day.

However, when MC glances over at Satan, where he’s ducked down to a pair of kittens, he was holding up his hand, and their little paws would touch his palm.

“Good, one more time,” Satan said.

“W-what are you doing?” MC asked.

Satan glanced over with wide eyes. “Teaching them to high five…” he trailed off.

MC put their hands on their cheeks and walked out of the room. All of this to hide the incredible blush and giddy laughter they were suppressing.

Asmo-

MC was skipping up to Asmo’s room to tell him about this sale. It was awesome, and he was going to obsess.

However, when they opened the door, they regretted it. Asmo was making out pretty hardcore with Solomon on the bed. Appalled? Shocked? MC didn’t know which.

“There’s always room for my other human!” Asmo giggled when he caught sight of MC.

Solomon covered his face. “Asmodeus, really.”

MC clapped a hand over their mouth and turned in a mechanical fashion before retreating.

“I’m never opposed to a humane threesome!” Asmo called after them.

Beel-

MC was working out with Beel. Well, more that he was working out, and they were putting chips in his mouth. It was a very gratifying experience. Both would laugh and enjoy this ridiculous routine.

It was all going like a well-oiled machine. Well… until Beel bit MC’s finger. Now it wasn’t that hard, but hard enough to make them jerk backward.

“Oh, MC, I’m sorry!” Beel puffed as he stopped his pushups.

MC took their finger to their mouth and grumbled. “That hurt, but I’m okay. You won't hurt me again, Beel.”

“Did Beel try to eat you like in your dream? I was hoping for screams and not whimpers,” Belphie murmured with a smirk as he turned over on his bed.

MC turned beyond what was considered red on the color spectrum. “I gotta go,” they rushed out and climbed off the floor.

“Wait, MC, I promise I won’t eat you!” Beel shouted as he rushed after them.

“Or he’ll try lower!” Belphie snickered.

Belphie-

MC was relaxing with Belphie in the sitting room. He was resting against their shoulder, and MC’s legs were over his lap. It was a typical evening of lazy bones being lazy cuddle buddies.

Asmo scrunched his nose while walking into the room. “It’s really unfair,” he started.

MC glanced over. “What?”

“Why is Belphie always getting to sleep with you! You never sleep with me!” He cried while crossing his arms.

“Because I do it better, Asmo. MC likes to be on top,” Belphie murmured through sleep.

MC’s eyes grew as Asmo rolled his. “Yeah, sure, like anyone would believe you fuck better than me.”

“What do you think the pillow is for? Muffled cries,” Belphie smiled over at Asmo.

MC puffed and stood up, nearly toppling over the table. Their hands landed on it for balance.

“Thank you for assuming the position, MC,” Belphie chuckled.

Needless to say, MC bolted from the room with bright mortification.

Solomon-

Magic. Always magic and human experiences. Today was no exception while they were practicing in the sitting room at Purgatory Hall.

They were working on transformative magic. Advanced and complicated.

“Now, watch, the strings will change to bracelets,” Solomon declared as he performed the spell.

MC bobbed their head as the white string did change into silver bracelets. “Cool.”

Simeon glanced over from his book. “Always talented, Solomon.”

Luke looked up from his phone and seemed wholly unamused by the situation.

“Now, it’s your turn.”

MC made the gesture and sputtered on the words. Instead of the string on their wrists turning into bracelets, they coiled around their hands and connected in a binding. MC gasped and struggled as they tried to climb off the ground.

“I didn’t realize you liked being tied up. I would have offered in private,” Solomon teased.

MC’s cheeks filled with blood and tripped as they moved toward the exit of the room.

“Solomon!” Simeon groaned.

Solomon was laughing. “I didn’t mean it. Well, maybe just a little, MC.”

They didn’t give him the chance to tease them anymore. MC struggled with the front door and began to march down the path.

“MC, you look like a demon meal like that! Come back,” Solomon called out, trying to catch them scurrying off. He laughed while following them all the way back to House of Lamentation.

Barbatos-

They were cooking together because he offered lessons. MC was always happy to help and learn to perfect a skill.

“Very good,” Barbatos nodded at MC finishing the sauce.

“Thanks, Barbatos. You’re going to get me cooking well enough to put any human to shame,” MC laughed.

“Maybe, but you were a proficient cook beforehand,” Barbatos said.

“I’ll have to cook for you sometime. Just tell me what you’d like to eat,” MC smiled.

Barbatos blushed and cleared his throat. “Anything you would like to make, MC. It isn’t often someone would like to return the favor for me.”

MC glanced over to see Barbatos had turned to the large pot on the stove. “I mean it. Whatever you want, Barbatos. I’d like to do something nice for you.”

“Why don’t you go see if we have any fresh greens?” He murmured.

MC scowled at the demon but agreed. They walked to the other side of the kitchen and went into the fridge. Glancing at the side, MC could see Barbatos subtly wiping his eyes through the reflection.

“Hey, Barbatos, I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” MC said and left the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Barbatos murmured as they left.

Diavolo-

Diavolo and MC were walking together through RAD as Barbatos trailed. They were on the way to a meeting, and MC was headed to lunch. This was usual, rare, but something not out of the norm. He would get his human questions in during these moments.

“MC, I heard the oddest thing from Asmodeus the other day,” Diavolo declared.

“What did he say now?” MC questioned with suspicion.

“There’s this game that you and he play. It has to do with figures of some sort,” Diavolo hummed.

“Figures?” MC asked.

Diavolo tapped his chin and glanced back. “Barbatos, what was it called again?”

“Daddy or Uncle energy, I believe, my lord,” Barbatos said while stifling a smile.

“Ah, yes, that one. Is this one of those parental human games?” Diavolo inquired while staring at MC.

Ded. one hundred percent. “No, um, Lord Diavolo, I gotta go,” MC puffed and tried to gesture toward the cafeteria.

“Wait, but he said you saw me as a father type? That’s very sweet,” Diavolo beamed with the smallest hint of mischief.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo! Bye, Barbatos!” MC rushed out and sprinted toward the cafeteria.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Diavolo called after them with a bout of laughter.

Asmo was killed later that night. (Not really, but it could happen…)

Simeon-

Simeon and MC were in the kitchen of Purgatory Hall, baking. They had just finished the batter for the fingerprint cookies with a celestial recipe. Simeon was his usual serene self.

“Simeon, how long are these going to take?” MC questioned with the timer in hand.

“Put the timer on for fifteen minutes, and we’ll check then. I still am not confident that Solomon doesn’t tinker with the oven for experiments,” Simeon laughed.

MC set the timer and grinned. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“He is a very unique human,” Simeon noted with a smile.

MC laughed while picking up the towel on the counter. “Here, let me help you clean up. You have some flour on your face.”

Simeon bent enough so that MC could clear his features of the flour, all the while beaming. It was a very cozy experience to bake with the angel. He took the towel from MC’s hand and nodded.

“Let me assist. You have some as well,” he noted and wiped their cheeks with soft swipes.

Simeon’s eyes were focused on the task.

“Simeon! Solomon took my hat for a spell again!” Luke yelled as he walked into the room.

MC jumped and accidentally pressed their lips to the space just next to Simeon’s mouth. “Oh, my God!” MC puffed and bounced back.

That just made it even worse. MC clapped a hand over their mouth and rushed from the room. Fire was cooler than their face. How were they ever going to explain that?

[yuzukult]

acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan​ , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

[cotccotc]

SKZ + a ftm s/o !!

 ◌ ftm (female-to-male) refers to a transgender person who was assigned female at birth, but identifies as male. these people are awesome, lovely, brave, & valid !! (yes that’s part of the official definition !!!! look it up <3)

part of my eight as fate event !! ( requested by @lixsmullet​ ♡ )

genre/s: fluff, skz x ftm reader

warning/s: mentions of dysphoria, mentions of periods, one very brief implication of transphobia (NOT IN REFERENCE TO THE MEMBERS DW), use of various pet names, swearing, my dumb formatting and commentary uwu

wc: ~1.5k

a/n: i hope i did this req justice !!! i made sure to do a lot of research on topics that might come up in this situation so i hope everything is accurate, but also inclusive for multiple types of people within the ftm umbrella. the descriptions might not be too deep but pls know they were written with a lot of care. OH ALSO i included potential pet names they might use !! i really really hope y’all enjoy this :) lmk what u think !!

◌ CHAN

chan’s known for putting other people’s needs before his own, and this is no exception.

he’d be super giving !!! would buy you “world’s best boyfriend” mugs and shit !!! it’s cringe but you love him so it’s fine !!!

more on top of your doctors appointments or meds than you are tbh

boy oh boy… if you take/decide to start taking testosterone……

LOOK OUT HERE COMES THE T POLICE KJDF

he just wants to do everything he can to help you !!!!! whether it means literally helping you stay on top of things and being your at-home (emotional) therapist, or giving you space.

i feel like he’s very good at detecting how a person feels based on their face or body language, so he’d always be on the lookout in case you might be feeling off or dysphoric.

and, as much as it might pain him, he’d give you as much time/space as you need. once again, he has your best interest in mind 24/7 !!! he just loves you so much, you know? 🥺

potential pet names (as long as you’re ok with them !! that goes for each member.): babyboy (we saw this one coming), foxy/sexy (mostly sarcastic but also… True), sunshine

◌ MINHO

a thing that i personally love to imagine: minho introducing you to people as his boyfriend

if anybody ever gives either of you a questioning look afterward (either intentionally or not) he wouldn’t waver at all !!! he’d just stand there and keep smiling. because you’re his boyfriend, duh

constantly reminds you how strong you are !! how super tough and cool you are !!! because it’s true !!!!!!!

i feel like i always make him sound like the ceo of Boyfriend Bootcamp in my reactions but i MEAN???

for example, if you’re ever feeling down (for whatever reason. whether it applies to you being trans or not) he’d be like “MAN UP !!! YOU’RE A WARRIOR !!!! ……. a cute one <3333 bUT A STRONG ONE !!!!!!”

in general, i definitely see him as the type of person who’ll just grab your hand or hold you a little closer in situations where he thinks you might feel uncomfortable, and even if he doesn’t directly acknowledge it, you know there’s a lot of love and care behind the gesture.

also… you’re sad? here, hold a cat.

potential pet names: stud (as a joke.. but it stuck), anything that starts with “my” (like my boy, my baby, my love, etc.)

◌ CHANGBIN

ok listen

i’m not calling changbin lazy

HOWEVER

he will most definitely try and make you do “manly” things for him when he doesn’t feel like it- SJDJJ

imagine his raspy, tough, yet adorably whiny voice being all:

“BAAAABE…. BABYYYYYY….. come lift this fOR MEEEEEEEE”

ESPECIALLYYYY if you’re taller than him oh my Lord

BUT HE’D DENY IT AT ALL COSTS !!!

changbin, pointing to an object on a tall shelf: “BABE can you get this for me? you’re so strong you can do it <3333”

you: “short ass-”

changbin: “hEY”

ALSO if you menstruate, i personally believe that he would be very comforting to have around during that time !!!!! just chillin on the couch !!!!!! vibin !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

your very own personal heating pad <33 jksjfd

potential pet names: babe, bunny, hot stuff (sometimes used for moments of sarcasm !!! there are lots of those..)

◌ HYUNJIN

he’s very sweet and loving with you, which never changes despite anything you might be going through. like ,,,ever.

i can see him being especially sweet and helpful for someone who doesn’t want to or can’t surgically transition !!!!

would do everything he could to emphasize the fact that you’re his favorite boy !!!!

whether it’s through activities, pet names, playful jokes, etc., he always wants to remind you how manly and lovely you are !! lolll

i present to you a thought that just popped up in my head and Will Not Leave:

you might normally be the little spoon, but if you ever feel a bit off about your body or just don’t want to be held, THIS BOY WILL GET CURLED UP IN A LITTLE SPOON POSITION FOR YOU !! SO VERY FAST !!!

(is it also an excuse for him to be the little spoon? yeah maybe it is-)

potential pet names: hubby (regardless of whether or not you’re married sjdsdf), prince, things that start with “my”

◌ JISUNG

asks lots of questions !!!!!!! whenever he’s not sure how to proceed with something or has any general questions about being trans or how to support you, he’ll be completely transparent with you about it.

even though it makes him a lil embarrassed 🥺🥺

will overuse the terms “dude” and “bro” just to make you laugh… but you both know there’s a hidden underlayer of validation there

loves cheering you up when you’re not feeling your best !!!

also ,,,,,,Youtube Research Enthusiast

“hey y/n check this out! let’s try it :D” and it’s a two minute video about how to naturally lower your voice

and you go along with it because a.) he’s cute for suggesting it, b.) it could actually be useful, and c.) he’ll look cute stretching his neck for a few minutes and it would be a valuable use of your time to watch him do it <3 jsjdfh

oh also !!!! we know he’s just Like This anyways, but he will indeed take every chance he gets to kiss random parts of your body like your hands, shoulders, the tip of your nose, and anything else you’re comfy with :) he just likes 2 smooch, what can i say?

potential pet names: anything silly !! bubba, baby/babycakes, good lookin’, etc.

◌ FELIX

this is somewhat similar to what i’d suggested in my nonbinary coming out reaction, but i feel like he’d take a lot of care to make you feel more confident in yourself !!!

especially when it comes to your appearance !!!!! if you ever decide to try out a new hairstyle, different clothing, etc., he’d HYPE YOU UPPPPP omg

you: *exists*

felix: *silly smirk* “my handsome boy.. hehe” 🥺

bakes for u !!!!!!! will come over asap with freshly baked cookies if he even senses you might not be feeling your best !!!!!!!!!!!!!

we all know he’s a real cuddlebug, but since you’ve explained dysphoria to him (to the best of your ability), it’s very important to him that he doesn’t overstep with the physical affection

he might also suggest you use a code word or gesture to signify if it’s ok for him to get all close and cuddly with you !! he knows you have your off days, and the last thing he wants to do is emphasize your insecurities.

he loves you more than anything, and he just wants to see you smile :)

potential pet names: handsome, love, sweets (bc ya know,,, brownie boy things <3)

◌ SEUNGMIN

would regularly spend hours and hours doing research on trans rights, different forms of transitioning, other people’s perspectives (both in his position and yours), etc

honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if he posted some questions on a website like reddit or quora or something from time to time SJDK (but eventually he’d be much more comfortable asking you directly, especially since he knows not every person is the same)

he really just wants to make sure he understands how you feel to the best of his ability in order to best care for you !!!

VERY VERY diligent if he has to adjust to new pronouns. would practice that shit like it’s his JOB.

i think he’d just be very scared of screwing something up, which you might have to console him about from time to time.

you know he’s trying his best to a.) not make this about himself and b.) do everything in his power to support you

sorta similarly to changbin, i think he’d be nice to have around if you’re ever on your period !! overall, this boy would do his RESEARCH

potential pet names: baby, mister (for some playful sarcasm), bear (or baby bear, honey bear, etc.)

◌ JEONGIN

if you’re ever feeling dysphoric, depressed, anxious, or generally not the best, he will do WHATEVER IT TAKES to cheer you up.

you: :(

jeongin: “ok fine you have permission to poke my cheeks all day”

you: :D

jeongin: :D

is also very similar to changbin !!!!! he’ll very dramatically give up on a task that requires even the slightest bit of manliness just so you can do it for him…. because he’s laz- i mean thoughtful <33

ok picture something with me besties (and this is quite random so bear with me):

he buys you cologne. cute !! very sweet of him yes <3 …...but the Backstory-

he had No idea what kind to get, so he went to the store and tried on like 10 different kinds until he realized he could just swatch them on a piece of paper so now he’s covered in cologne and he buys the one he thought was his favorite but he comes home to realize it was the WRONG ONE so he has to go back to the store and test them all again until he finds the one

..all just so he could surprise you & make you feel more masculine :’)

anyways LONG STORY SHORT: innie best boy :D

potential pet names: bun (in reference to bread, of course. you must match.), handsome, sexy (BUT ONLY IF YOU SAY IT RIGHT BACK !!!!!! sexy loaf boyfriends aw <3)

tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @thatrandomoneinthecorner, @cyberskz​, @seungminsaidsta, @somethingrandomworld, @ethan806 ( join my tag list !! )

©️ cotccotc 2021 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[nikethestatue]

Spy Games

Elriel Month - Day 3

Spying

Spying Lessons

Elain, the pretty, polite, courteous sister, who spoke well and moved gracefully, was also one who was never considered with any seriousness by anybody. Not her mother, not their weak, gentle father, not the imperious, sharp-tongued Nesta, or the self-assured, determined Feyre. However, she was a merchant’s daughter, and she was as sharp-eyed, as Nesta was sharp-tongued. 

She inherited the trait from their father--he was always able to spot a deal, or a weakness, a loophole and he used it to his full advantage when making deals. She watched him, and learned how to use her words, how to compliment and smile, how to appear innocent and helpless, while seeking favors and looking to get what she wanted. It worked. It worked with everyone--it worked with Nesta, worked with their servants (when they had them), and when they didn’t, and had nothing, Elain always managed to charm someone at the market for an extra apple, a couple of bread rolls, or a swath of cloth. Even Lord Nolan was not immune to her charms, and even though there were better offers from others, he encouraged Greyson to court Elain, despite her family's ‘reputation’. Elain loved Greyson, but she also watched and noticed. She saw groves of ash trees, the number of sentries patrolling the walled estate, and how many guard dogs there were. She didn’t even try, but she noticed...and counted...and remembered.

Nuala was good. Smooth and discrete, she’d never be suspected of keeping tabs on Amren. Though Amren was a vengeful Angel of a young god in her previous life, and she probably knew what Nuala was doing. Yet, Nuala was not so good as to suspect Elain. Because Elain knew as well. It came as a surprise, but it was apparent to Elain that Nuala closely monitored Amren, as well as Varian, when they were around. 

They were making lemon cakes in the kitchen--Elain and the twins. Baking and cooking--many assumed that that’s what Elain was good for--the kind, tidy, domestic Elain. What no one, except for one person, was privy to was that these chores quieted the roaring in Elain’s head. They silenced the visions, cleared the pounding in her skull, gave her a sense of normalcy, even if for only a little while. 

“What do you think Varian reports to his High Lord?” the question startled the twins and they exchanged quick looks.

Elain’s face remained placid, as she busied herself with grating lemon zest. “Do you think they laugh?” she chuckled. “Our court is dramatic, to be sure.”

The twins were silent. 

“Is it wise though,” she continued, uninterrupted, “to have a representative of another Court so closely entwined with the affairs of the Night Court?”

“The High Lord trusts Prince Varian,” said Cerridwen, her voice neutral.

“Perhaps.”

Elain stirred the zest into the custard and there was silence, the twins assuming that the conversation was over. 

“Does Azriel?” she suddenly asked.

They stared. 

“Does Azriel trust Varian?” she pressed.

“The lord,” began Nuala, but Elain interrupted. “Not High Lord,”

“Lord Azriel,” corrected Nuala, “does what he must to keep the Night Court safe.”

That explained everything.

“Could Azriel use another pair of eyes and ears?” Elain didn’t even know where the offer came from. Perhaps, it stemmed from the desire to be useful, to offer something of herself that so few knew that she even possessed. She turned to the twins and stared them down, her gaze unflinching.

“Teach me,” she pleaded. “Teach me what you know. What and how you do it. Please.”

“Lord Azriel may not approve,” countered Cerridwen softly.

“Let’s not tell him,” whispered Elain,

“Lord Azriel will know.”

“Eventually. I am not asking you to lie to him,” she added quickly, sensing that this was the reason for their hesitation. “Just don’t tell him. Not yet. Teach me, a little something, and then I’ll decide if it’s for me. Please. I,”

“Fine,” said Nuala. Cerridwen gave her a silent look of admonishment and surprise, but did not argue. Perhaps that would come later. “We’ll teach you the way he taught us.”

“Yes!” Elain’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Goodness, she hadn’t felt this excited in….well, forever.

The lessons were not what she expected, but she did not question them.

There were no weapons, or peeking through peepholes, or breaking locks.

At first, it was a little bit boring even. Odd requests, such as making conversations with random faeries--in the park, on the street, at the markets. The twins would point out a fae and order Elain to go and start a conversation. It lasted for weeks, and she even grew frustrated, thinking that they were just humoring her and these ‘lessons’ were nothing but a game. Until one day, Nuala told her to obtain specific information. She pointed at an elderly male Fae and requested, “Approach. Come back with the following information--did he serve in the first War, what rank, does he have children, how many, and what is his favourite breakfast?”

“What?” Elain stared in confusion, but Nuala’s face remained inscrutable. 

“Is there a problem?” asked Nuala. Her tone of voice...well, the tone was very much Azriel’s.

Elain shook her head and said, “no”, before crossing the street and approaching the male fae.

The realization that she could do this was thrilling. At once, she understood why she spent all those weeks approaching and making conversations with all those fae. She found ways, ways to ingratiate herself to them, to mark something small, but unique to each one, and then weave a connection around that tiny tidbit. It worked every time. 

The elderly male fae had a small, but noticeable limp. This was Elain’s opening. He was hauling a basket of groceries, and she approached gently, offering help. Oh, he couldn’t possibly trouble such a pretty lady. And she was a High Fae to boot. No, no, thank you, he could manage. Not a problem at all, she was walking that way anyway. What was he making for dinner with all those vegetables? Oh, soup? Did the wife send him to the market? Oh, a widower? So sorry. Were there children to assist? Three? That’s good that they helped out…

“He was a Captain in the Third Legion during the first War. He is a widower, with three children--two male, and one female. Three grandchildren as well. He usually eats leftovers for breakfast, because he is too lazy to cook, but his favorite breakfast are almond croissants from the Brea Bakery,” reported Elain.

A small, satisfied smile touched Nuala’s lips.

So the lessons continued. She was ordered to obtain more detailed information, and in places which were harder to access. She did. Sometimes, she failed, but rarely.

In addition, Cerridwen began training her on walking. 

Walking? 

Walking.

“Make your presence unknown,” she explained and Elain only nodded. Sure, she would learn to walk, if that’s what was required. She learned how to roll her feet in such a manner that they were completely silent with every step that she took. Learned how to notice her own body, its presence, and the space that it occupied. And learned how to make it unknown. How to melt into shadows, stand near someone and have them be unaware of her, sneak quietly into rooms and spaces. It took a month, maybe longer. Meanwhile, she learned other tricks. How to swap papers, how to pull documents with a flick of her wrist, how to read upside down (very difficult). 

“Could you take this to Lord Azriel please,” Cerridwen handed Elain a folder. 

“Um...yes, of course,” Elain took the folder, a bit surprised that Cerridwen couldn’t deliver it herself, but by the time she was going to ask, Cerridwen had disappeared.

First things first--Elain didn’t know where Azriel was.

The River House was enormous, so she started with Rhysand’s office, but it was empty. She peeked out into the garden, but only saw baby Nyx and his nanny, who was attempting to contain Nyx on a picnic blanket, and failing. Elain smiled. Nyx crawled like a fiend and made an aggressive beeline towards the fluffy peonies. No doubt, they’d be trampled and pulled soon enough. Especially, if the nanny wouldn’t take her eyes off the handsome delivery male who was standing by the gate and flirting with her.

Elain closed her eyes. Smell. Sense. They haven’t gotten that far in their training yet, but Azriel’s scent--oh, she knew it well. The most delicious scent to ever hit her nostrils. The one scent that she craved and hungered for above all others. Even in this huge house, she could isolate Azriel’s scent, as it rose above all others, at least for her. The strongest trail led to Azriel’s bedroom, which was unsurprising, even if he did not spend much time here anymore. He and Rhysand met to discuss matters of state, and then there were the mandatory ‘family dinners’ that Azriel attended. They used to be obligatory, but after the last Solstice, they became mandatory, by order of the High Lord. 

No, Azriel wasn’t in his bedroom. She followed the scent down the hallway, past the drawing room, then up the side stairs. Ah. She should’ve guessed. There was a terrace that overlooked the garden that Azriel favored. Sometimes, she thought that he observed her from there, when she tangled with weeds and seeds. But that couldn’t be. Not after the fiasco during the last Solstice and him pulling away from her with no explanation. A momentary lapse of reason on his part.

She spotted the spread of his wings. A smile touched her lips. How things were different before, when he was so comfortable around her. When he’d come and sit with her in the garden, sunning his wings, doing his work, both of them enjoying each other’s company without the need to talk. All of that somehow crashed and burned, and she didn’t know why and how to bring that intimacy back.

“Azriel,” she said, “Cerr,”

Azriel flinched and whipped his head to her. His eyes blew wide at the sight of her, standing in the doorway.

“Elain...Phhh, you startled me….” he muttered hoarsely.

And the Spymaster of the Night Court shifted with discomfort. 

She had surprised him. 

“Sorry,” she murmured and handed him the folder. “I apologize. Cerridwen asked me to give this to you.”

He was still staring at her, as if processing what had occurred. His hazel eyes raked over her body, settling on her feet for a few moments. It was like he was trying to discern how she managed to approach him so silently.

“Umm, thank you,” he said and opened the folder. It was empty.

Neither one said anything to each other, and Elain turned and stepped back into the house, her cheeks flushed.

As she hurried down the hall, Cerridwen and Nuala both appeared in front of her, grins plastered on their lovely angular faces.

“What?!” she snapped. 

The grins widened.

“There was nothing in the folder!” she exclaimed, irritated.

“No,” agreed Cerrdiwen. “But you passed the first phase of your training.”

“You surprised Lord Azriel.”

[rosierin]

Studying with you

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

synopsis: after finding out about your gradually decreasing grades, your teacher urges you to change your studying methods and decides to find you a tutor among the class. shame that tutor is literally the biggest jerk known to man. you swear he knows nothing but insults and that his heart is made of stone. or is it?

genre: fluff

type: oneshot

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i hate love this guy, srsly

"Oi, (y/n). Wake up, we're not finished." 

Your head jerks up and you let out a loud, drawn out groan as your eyes refocus on the man in front of you. He's sneering, same as usual, and you wish you could suddenly go back to dream land where you were happily baking cookies with Hinata and Kageyama. 

Beneath your arms are two gaping algebra textbooks. One is riddled with scribbly notes and an unnecessary amount of pointless doodles, except the one of Tsukishima— scowling with a head drawn way too big compared to the rest of his skinny body. The other is filled with neat, detailed formulas, pastel highlights and all the correct answers which you've been struggling to find for the past two hours.

"I'm up, I'm up, geez.." You yawn with your head still on the table and look up at Tsukishima with drowsy eyes. "You could've woken me up a little nicer, ya know."

"Yeah.. no. How about you hurry up and finish so I can go home?" He looks more than done at this point and huffs, pointing at a formula jotted messily on your paper. "And you got that one wrong again, by the way."

You squint at your work, then realize he was right. "Oh. My bad."

Wanting to get things over with, you get back to work but your eyelids are so heavy it's ridiculous. Not to mention your brainpower has reached its limit.

You can feel your grip on your pen loosen as you try and correct your work but before you know it, your head drops again, only to be jolted awake by a sudden smack to the back of the head with what feels like a textbook.

"What the— Do you mind?!" You snap. 

Tsukishima doesn't react to your outburst in the slightest, just nods to your unfinished work with a look of lazy authority. "Algebra." He stares at you with a deadpan expression when you pout. "Now." 

"Fiiine." You sigh, annoyed that your puppy dog eyes didn't work on Tsukishima. Not that you thought they would. Tsukishima didn't seem like the type to particularly like animals, except maybe for dinosaurs. He had a small keychain of one buried deep within his pencil case, you found. "You know, you'd make a terrible teacher."

This time, it's Tsukishima's turn to yawn, stretching his long limbs and you have to force yourself not to focus on the pull of his lean muscles despite yourself. Then, he turns to look at you with a look of false innocence. "Sorry, go on?"

"I hate you."

"Great. Now ask me if I care."

You suck in through your teeth as you hold back from socking the blonde straight in the face. He's been sassing you non-stop since the beginning of your study session and you'd think you'd be used to his perpetual cocky remarks by now but alas, he was still a huge pain in your ass.

"Where're you going?" You ask as Tsukishima gets up from his chair that's in front of your desk, dusting the eraser shavings off your textbooks.

"Aw. Think you'll miss me?"

You bite your lip down and he notices, smirking contently before deciding to answer: "going to get some water. That question better be finished by the time I get back."

He's gone before you can retort, long legs granting him a quick escape. However halfway down the hallway you hear him add: "or I'll make you do three more."

Great.

"Yessir," you sigh, though you have absolutely no intention of following through.

You glance down at your textbooks for good measure— textbooks which are practically staring at you, and you can picture them with beady little eyes as though they're chanting— soooolve ussss.

You shudder. Man, you really were tired.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, Tsukki."

Pushing your homework aside, unfazed by your salty tutor's threats, you decide it's time for an actual break. You deserved it, right? Yeah, yeah you did. So without second thought, you let your attention drift to the scenery outside instead.

You'd been so focused on your homework (and Tsukishima's sass) that you hadn't even noticed the beautiful sunset that was now setting over the hills of Karasuno High. You always loved the way it looked at this hour, basking the buildings and tall, lush trees in its warm light. It was all too soothing, so soothing that you hadn't even realized you were once more falling asleep, eyeslids fighting to stay open until they finally gave in and what little willpower you had left, left your body.

"Right, time's up. You better be finish—"

The moment Tsukishima walks back into the classroom, eyes settling on your current state— sprawled out on your desk, mouth slightly agape and completely out cold, he's overcome with the urge to sigh.

He walks over to your desk and sits down opposite you, then as he leans his cheek into his palm, he lazily pokes your cheek— once, twice, but gets no reaction in response.

"You've got to be kidding me.." He sighs. But he decides to not bother and wake you up this time. What'd be the point? You clearly weren't in any shape to study and honestly, he didn't have the patience in him anymore to try in case it'd drive him crazy.

For a second he debates just leaving you there, passed out of your classroom desk, but quickly decides against it in case he gets an earful from your parents about leaving you alone or something. The last thing he wants is any extra trouble.

Therefore he agrees, albeit begrudgingly, to let you sleep. Just until you were rested up enough to work again.

⭐

Thirty minutes go by, you're still fast asleep.

During that time, Tsukishima took it upon himself to slip his headphones on and listen to some beats, hazel eyes flitting beyond the window to watch the last of the sunset, hoping it'd make the time go by quicker.

Usually, this would be right up his alley; peace and quiet, chill lofi and a sunset, however when sat on a painfully uncomfortable, wooden chair rather than his comfy and plump single bed, the experience was significantly less appealing. Therefore, after trying to find a comfortable sitting position and failing for the fourth time he decides to take his headphones off and focus back on his studies— he might as well, only when he reaches for his pen, he realizes it isn't there.

Amber eyes scan the table. Usually it'd be in his pencil case; he doesn't remember taking it ou—

Ah, never mind. It all makes sense when he sees it. Not in his pencil case after all, but balanced precariously between your fingers.

He rolls his eyes.

Why didn't she just use her own pen?

Reaching for it, he attempts to pull it out of your grasp only to freeze when you begin to stir.

He doesn't know why at this point— he could just wake you up, that's what he'd initially planned. But now, for some reason, there's something that prevents him from doing so. Maybe it had something to do with the way you were sleeping so peacefully.

He tries to pull at his pen again— gently— but this time, it isn't you stirring that makes him seize up, but the way your index and middle finger hook around his own.

His brain stutters.

Well, this is new.

Tsukishima's back straightens an awkward amount, completely unsure of what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before. He becomes painfully aware of that. He's also painfully aware that you could possibly wake up while holding him like this.

Thankfully, you don't. And although the tenseness of his body is beginning to hurt, he still takes the time to admire your sleeping form.

You're laying crossed armed, head nestled between them, facing him. He watches your body rise and fall ever so gently, can almost hear your quiet breaths. It's picturesque, almost; the way your hair glows beneath the bright full moon. Unknowingly, his thumb twitches nearer, gravitating towards the warmth of your hand and he can almost feel—

"Enjoying yourself there?"

Suddenly he's frozen. Though it only lasts a second, for the next he's already retracted his hand, folding it under his arm like it was never there to begin with.

"Wh— How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," you say, smiling curiously at him and for once the tables have been turned; the teased having become the teaser. "So you can be nice sometimes."

Tsukishima's expression is anything but impressed as you mock him, his face caught between confused and annoyed, and dare you say even a little bit embarrassed? He's quick to shake it off though, sparing himself of any sly comment as he regains his usual cool demeanor.

"Please. You're the one who grabbed me first," he scoffs.

"But you didn't try to move," you shoot back.

There's a strange atmosphere that settles in the room as your mishief-glinting eyes bore into his, and Tsukishima doesn't dare talk back for once, having been robbed of all witty comebacks. He hates being at a loss for words, but he hates even more so, the beginnings of a grin forming on your features, one that he knows is a result of his shortcomings.

"Whatever, (y/n) just pack up your stuff. We're done for the night," he says as he himself starts tidying his belongings.

You chuckle then nod your head. "Sure thing, sensei."

"...don't call me that."

"Sensei."

"Urgh, shut up."

⭐

⭐

⭐

Later that night, when you're lying in bed, ready to fall asleep, your eyes snap open as your phone buzzes underneath your pillow. You pull it out and press the home button, wondering who could possibly be texting you at this hour. When you do, you're surprised when it's Tsukishima's ID that pops up.

He had sent one message:

"Oh and by the way, you drool when you sleep."

[after-witch]

Title: Oh Honey Honey ('Oh Sugar Sugar' Part 2) (Yandere L Lawliet x Reader)

Title: Oh Honey Honey ('Oh Sugar Sugar' Part 2) (Yandere L Lawliet x Reader)

Synopsis: The newest regular to frequent your little pastry shop is a little unusual, but his appreciation of your craft is a welcome distraction from the terrifying suspicion that you may have a stalker.

notes: yandere, stalker behavior

You waved cheerfully at a little boy through the glass window of your store, as his grandfather gently urged him along the street; he was maybe 2 or 3, and had practically shrieked in joy when his grandfather bought him the biggest, cutest looking cupcake you'd had in the display that morning.

With the store empty for the moment, you turned back to your daily specialty case and decided to give it a quick cleaning. A regular, the older gentlemen who'd recently revealed that all the treats were actually for an associate, was due to arrive soon, and he typically bought up most of your special case. You leaned over the front counter, grabbed a rag and a bottle of cleaning solution, and gave the glass a quick spritz. You were humming to yourself when you heard the door bells jingling.

You turned, smile ready, expecting the older gentlemen--and almost flinched in surprise. It was not your regular, but someone new. He had lanky dark hair and wore an unassuming, casual outfit consisting of a white shirt and jeans. 

You swiftly stepped behind the register. “Can I help you today, sir?” 

"Yes, in fact," the man said. "I'm here to give my compliments in person." 

Confusion must have registered on your face, for he continued. "I normally have an associate buy my pastries for me. But I wanted to see your shop for myself, so..."

"Oh!" 

You hadn't meant to say it out loud, but you couldn't help it; nor could you help the more genuine smile that you gave the man who'd bought hundreds of dollars worth of pastries in such a short time period. Baking was your passion--but it was your business, too, and you couldn't help but truly appreciate people who supported that business. "I'm so glad to finally meet you! Thank you for all your business."

You held out your hand jovially, and the man came forward to accept it with a low, firm and slightly awkward handshake. When he pulled away, he glanced at his hand for a moment, before returning his gaze back to you. You couldn't help but hope he was getting enough sleep.

"I should be thanking you," he said. "For all the pastries, I mean."

At that, you beamed. "Well! Let me show you what's in our special case today..."

**

You had a stalker. Well, maybe you had a stalker. You weren't quite sure. All you knew for sure was that something was... off, lately. At first, you attributed it to getting less sleep than normal. With your bakery busier than ever, thanks to your new regular and even a nice business contract supply 2 dozen breakfast muffins every morning, you weren't getting as much sleep. 

So it would only be normal, you thought, to be a little on edge. A little testy. But less sleep didn't account for the odd, creeping feeling that you were being watched, especially at night. You could have swore you heard strange sounds, too... whirring or clicks. Cameras? You didn't know.

Nor did a lack of sleep account for some things that had gone missing from your apartment. A favorite nightgown you liked to sleep in; a favorite mug. the berry-red one you’d gotten two Christmases ago; even, as you discovered one morning, a lingerie set that you'd tried on once and then been too embarrassed to wear again. Still, it was expensive and the thought that someone had taken it--and why someone would take it--made you feel sick.

To say that you were not your usual chipper self for the rest of the morning was an understatement. You did your best to smile for the customers that came in, but even they must have sensed something was wrong; you even got extra tips from a regular, an elderly woman who tut-tutted you and told you that you should consider taking a weekend off.

The thought was tempting, but you knew that with running a small business came sacrifices--including the inability to just "take off." Still, you thought, you could take a little nap. A short one, 25 minutes, tops. You didn't often temporarily close up shop for breaks, but it was quiet and you weren't likely to get too many sales before the lunch rush, anyway.

As you were about to flip the sign, however, a figure suddenly walked up to the door. You jumped, then internally scolded yourself for being ridiculous--it was just your regular, or "Ahh, Mr. Regular?," as he'd awkwardly suggested you call him when you’d asked for his name. It was odd, but, the man was also downing an exceptional amount of sugar while buying up entire cases worth of your goods on the regular, so it wasn't your place to judge.

You bit your cheek to suppress a sigh of frustration and opened the door, stepping back so he could come in.

"Oh," he said, "are you closing?"

You smiled, or tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything resembling your typical sweet countenance. "No, no, I was just going to close up for a nap... I mean a break." You shook your head. You shouldn't bother customers with talks about naps, it probably made you sound lazy.

He quirked his head slightly, staring at you almost intensely. "Yes..." he said softly, almost murmuring. "I see those circles under your eyes... you haven't been sleeping well."

The personal turn of the conversation made you feel awkward. You looked away, embarrassed. You hated the idea of customers seeing you as anything other than the cheery pastry shop lady, a source of sugar and sweetness and delicious goodies. "Um," you said, "I guess not, I've just been a little, you know--out of it. You know how things go."

You laughed, mirthless and empty, and gestured towards the case. "So, anyway. I actually don't have many special pastries today, I've been a little busy." You mentally slapped yourself for giving excuses, even bland ones, though it wasn't like you were lying. 

You'd woken up early so you could head into work and finish off some really nice specialty items you'd baked last night, but rummaging around your drawers for something to wear led you to realize the lingerie was missing, and you'd spent 2 hours drifting between panic and disgust.

But rather than walk towards the case and pick out today's purchases, your regular simply stood in front of you. Head slightly quirked still, eyes expressive--concerned, you thought, he looks concerned about me. 

You couldn't deny that a customer worrying about you brought up conflicting emotions; frustration, because you didn't want to mess with your public persona; and a warm mixture of comfort and flattery. Someone liked your pastries enough to care about you.

"Is everything all right?" He said, finally. "Are you feeling sick? Or is something else keeping you up?"

You stared, feeling lost for words. You didn't really know him, and you hadn’t even told your friends about your potential stalker. But the weight of the past few weeks, the build-up of fear and disgust and stress, seemed to push you down until you found yourself sliding into one of your cafe chairs. He followed suit, pulling his knees up until he practically crouched on the seat.

You hesitated. Should you really be telling him any of this? “I… don’t want to bother you with any of my personal problems.”

“It’s not bothering me. I’m curious,” he said, lightly.

You sighed. Here goes, you thought. “I… I have a stalker?” Your hesitancy quickly morphed into an awkward blurting. “I mean, I think I do. I’m not sure. It’s just the past few weeks. I keep hearing these weird noises. And I feel like I’m being watched.” You bit your lip. “And someone took my underpants?”

Actually vocalizing the thought made you realize that it could just all be in your head. I mean, whirring noises? Missing lingerie? Maybe there were ants in the walls and you’d donated the set and forgot about it.

You half expected him to look embarrassed and give an excuse to leave. But instead, he looked thoughtfully at you. “Hmm. Have you called the police?”

It was you who felt embarrassed now. “No…” You shrugged. “I mean, what can they do, anyway? I don’t have any proof.”

He regarded you with a grim nod. “That’s true. They won’t act without evidence.” He gave a little huffy sigh of his own. “Well… if it were up to me, I’d do a stake out. See if anyone comes into your place at night. I could get some equipment, if you want.”

You smiled--subtle and soft, but a genuine smile. At least he didn’t think you were crazy. At least he validated your feelings. And he’d offered to help, even if you would never feel comfortable taking him up on that offer.

“I appreciate it,” you said. “But maybe I’m just being paranoid. I don’t want to drag you into all this…” You sat up straighter and decided to change the subject--you’d had enough worrying about a stalker for one day. “Say, do you want to see the kitchen? I need to finish up a cake I started last night, for the special case. Maybe you can pick out the fruit toppings?”

For a moment, your regular looked shocked.  He nodded, slowly. His expression never quite fully recovered its normal neutrality, and he stood up almost cautiously before following your lead into the open kitchen door accessed from behind the counter.

“Sorry for the mess,” you say lightly. “I didn’t have time to start dishes yet.” You gestured towards a countertop where a small cake stuffed with mascarpone and nestled within a layer of marzipan sat. There were little dollops of cream forming a circle on the top of the cake. “I’m going to top it with some fruits, why don’t you pick out which ones you like?” You covered your mouth, suddenly. “I mean--if you want to buy it, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

He cleared his throat and a small smile flickered across his lips. “Of course I’ll buy it. Your cakes are delicious.”

You laughed a little, showing your teeth, and took out some little jars of fresh fruits from a small fridge underneath the counter. As he looked over them, you turned and began tossing a few empty pots, pans and stirrers into the sink so that they could soak. You couldn’t help but hum a little, used to singing while you clean.

“Yes, I’ve decided,” he said suddenly. You turned around and saw him staring right at you.

“Decided?” You asked. Something about the way he was looking at you felt familiar. You thought about whirring.

“On strawberries,” he replied. He slowly held up the bowl of freshly cut, ripe red berries. “For my cake.”

**

L sat, crouched on the couch, staring at the video he’d taken of today’s events. You confided in him, which was delightful. You’d smiled at him, which was even better. Watching you put the glorious finishing touches on a scrumptious pastry in the kitchen was just... well. Icing on the cake.

He pressed a button on the controller and rewound the video to the moment where you'd laughed, light and airy and perfectly melodious to his ears. Your smile was genuine, then--not the constrained smile you'd given when he'd interrupted your nap plans; nor was it the sometimes plastic smile you wore when you were clearly exhausted with giving endlessly bright customer service.

Your real smile was something to be treasured. Especially, he thought to himself, because it will be a long while before he sees it again. You won’t be smiling much after he kidnaps you--after he acquires you, he corrected himself. 

According to his calculations, you won't start feeling more accepting of your situation for at least a few months, but it may be sooner (or later) depending on certain variables. You will be scared first, he knew--scared and maybe angry with him for deceiving you and trapping you. And that wouldn’t be very conducive to the smile and laughter he’d quickly become addicted to taking in.

He lifted up your favorite mug and took a sip of the warm coffee inside, relishing the last bits of your lipstick left on the rim, before rewinding the video to watch you again. Time will heal your wounds--but in the mean time, he will be so very generous and patient with you.

[agustdakasuga]

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 8

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

As you spend more time with the boys and start to understand each other more, your feelings make you impulsive with your actions. But the boys are afraid that they may have to tell you the truth sooner than they expected.

Chapter warning(s): Reader is called degrading names by bullies, slight violence. Please read at your own discretion. 

After that afternoon spent with Suga, you felt like you understood the male a lot more than you think you did. The boys all had their unique personalities that just naturally drew people in. You hummed as you headed down the path to go to the bus stop.

“(y/n)! (y/n)! Save me!” J-Hope ran to you. 

“Huh?” You blinked, turning to see the boy running towards you. He immediately ducked behind you, grabbing you to shield him. 

“Jungkookie!” J-Hope pointed to the muscular boy with a bunny smile running towards you. He chased J-hope around you, succeeding in jumping on his back to tackle him. J-hope choked. 

“Be careful.” RM grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from the two boys that were about to knock you down with their playing. 

“Thank you.” You smiled gratefully and he patted your head. 

“Seokjin, here. Thanks again for lending it to me.” You took his washed denim jacket out of your bag and handed it to him. He smiled and nodded his head, receiving the folded clothing and putting it into his own backpack. The others looked on at the exchange, even the two that were roughhousing also stopped, to see what was going on. 

“I washed it! Don’t worry.” You added. 

“It’s alright, (y/n). Thanks.” He chuckled. Meanwhile, you didn’t know that the wolves were having a mental interrogation with their oldest. 

“What the hell was that?!” V growled. 

“I lent her my jacket and forgot to take it back. So she is returning it to me now. That’s it.” Seokjin scoffed. 

“Yeah, hyung. You just casually forgot to take your jacket back from her. So she could wash it and it would smell like her. You sneak! We know what you’re up to!” Jungkook accused. 

“You guys are crazy. If you want, maybe try winning the next time we play rock, paper, scissors.” Seokjin teased and the others all growled at him. 

“Guys? The bus is here.” Your voice pulled them out of their trance. They shook their heads to break the mind link and nodded, following you up the bus. All of you tapped your cards and took your seats. Jimin took the seat beside you while the rest were kind of spread out. 

“So, what did you do during your weekend?” Jimin asked. 

“Well, Sunday was spent doing chores and cleaning the house. I worked on Saturday then studied a bit.” You cast a glance over to Suga, who was just staring outside the window. 

“What did you guys do?” 

“Not much. We stayed in the house as we normally do.” Jimin chuckled. 

“Wow, Chim. Way to make us sound like lazy people that just lie around and do nothing.” Suga scowled. Of course, he was hearing the conversation. Everyone else was. 

“That’s good. Rest is the most important.” You giggled. When the bus stopped, the boys let you get off first. 

Ever since you started being around the boys, the other students stopped messing with you so much, except Kira. The male students that would disturb you stopped, afraid of the wrath from the 7 boys. Kira and her team of girls were just jealous that the 7 boys decided to hang around you instead of them. She prided herself as being the prettiest in school. 

“Slut.” Kira rolled her eyes as she watched you enter with the others. You ignored her remarks. 

“Someone needs to put that girl in her place.” Jungkook frowned. 

“(y/n) wouldn’t like that. We should think of her feelings first.” Jimin stopped the younger alpha from acting irrationally. After what happened last time, the boys made sure to follow you to your locker. 

“Are you working today?” J-Hope asked. 

“Yeah. But I’m not working tomorrow so I may bake. You guys can come over, if you’d like.” You said as you arranged your locker. 

“We would love to.” RM smiled. 

“Awesome.” You returned the gesture and shut your locker. When you all entered class, the other students still stared at you like they usually do. As someone they viewed as the ‘loser’ and ‘forever alone’, they all wondered how you got the attention of the 7 new students so easily. 

“Does the staring creep you out?” V leaned in to whisper to you. 

“Used to. But not anymore. I don’t care.” You shook your head with a chuckle. V smiled fondly at you. 

Soon, the conversation was cut when the teacher came in and you focused on the board. The mid year tests were coming up and you wanted to make sure that you had all the resources that you needed. 

“Do you have the exam schedule?” V asked. 

“I do.” You took your planner out and flipped to the page with all the highlighted dates, sliding it to him. 

“Hmm, thanks.” He closed it, handing it back to you. You nodded and put it under your pencil case. V felt like he could watch you study forever. The way you would frown slightly when a problem was too hard or how you would chew on your bottom lip when you were focused. It was the little gestures like these that he found so adorable. 

“Class dismissed.” The teacher left when it was lunch time. The boys followed you to the place out back. That had become a regular place for all of you to just talk while you enjoyed your lunches alone. 

“Oh, hey. I hope you don’t mind sharing the space.” You froze when you saw Kira and her friends there, in your exact spot, under the tree. 

“What...?” Suga frowned. 

“Come join us, oppas.” Kira smiled and waved. 

“We’re not your oppas. Stop don’t call us that.” Seokjin crossed his arms. You turned around and walked away while the boys were too busy glaring holes into Kira’s head. 

“That’s not cool.” Jungkook shook his head. Kira shrugged and sat back down. She turned to her friend and smirked. 

“Wait, where’s (y/n)?” Jimin asked. The 7 boys turned around to find you missing. All 7 of them could feel a faint ache in their chest. They knew that it came from you, you were feeling upset. RM grabbed his pack and pulled them away. They had to find you. 

You walked through the book shelves. Your uneaten lunch still in your lunch box. After what happened with Kira, you just didn’t have the appetite to eat anymore. You let out a sigh, that girl seriously needed something else to do. 

“Hey, new book.” You smiled and grabbed the book down from the shelf. Turning it over, you read the back. 

“That’s a good one. You should borrow it.” Someone spoke from beside you, making you jump. 

“We were looking for you.” RM whispered. You nodded your head and tucked the book under your arm with the intention of borrowing it on the way out later.

“Sorry about just leaving like that. I just wasn’t in the mood to fight Kira. Anyway, I over reacted. It’s just a lunch place, nothing special. She can have it.” You shook your head. RM surprised you by holding your chin, lifting your head up to face him. You blushed at the contact. His eyes were filled with warmth and understanding. 

“You didn’t over react. It’s alright.” He assured. 

“It’s just... that has been my quiet place since I’ve come to this school. It’s the only place that I don’t need to deal with students trying to make me their joke.” You sighed. 

“I understand.” He let go of your chin and stroke your head. You felt your heart pound against your chest at the contact. 

“Thank you, RM.” You smiled.

“I found her. She’s okay.” RM told his brothers. 

“Where are you guys? We’re coming!” V asked. For once, RM decided to ignore his brothers, him wanting to spend some alone time with you, talking about things the both of you enjoyed. Books. 

“Namjoon! Don’t ignore us!” Seokjin came through.

“He’s hogging her!” J-Hope accused. RM decided to just block his brothers. If they really wanted to find him, they would have tried to track his scent. Besides, the school isn’t that big. He followed you to one of the tables in a corner to sit down. RM took the seat opposite you.

“I know this author but I haven’t read this book. I think the library just brought this one in.” You patted the cover of the book. 

“I have all his books. I can lend it to you, if you’d like.” RM offered. 

“Really? That would be so cool. I’m guessing you’re the bookworm of the family?” You giggled. 

“That, I am. The others don’t really take to reading much. Maybe J-Hope, sometimes? He accompanies me. But most of the books in our home library was bought and collected by me.” He explained. 

“Wow.” RM loved the way your eyes sparkled and lit up. When the bell rang, you and RM left the library. But you didn’t borrow the book as RM insisted that he could just lend you the book instead and you wouldn’t have to worry about returning it by the due date. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to eat because of me.” You frowned. 

“It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise, (y/n). I actually enjoyed just hanging out with you in the library.” He confessed. 

“I did too.” You smiled. 

When you all went into the classroom, you noticed the other 6 boys staring at all of you. You blinked at them and just sat down. Even when you pulled your chair in, V was still staring at you. You cleared your throat awkwardly. 

“Y-Yes?” 

“So what did you and RM hyung do?” He asked. You nearly choked at his almost accusatory tone. It was almost as if he was implying that you and RM did something scandalous. 

“You heard me.” V placed his face close to yours. 

“W-We went to t-the library.” You stuttered and gulped. He drew back, sending you an unconvinced look. 

“Kim Taehyung. What are you doing to her?!” RM growled. 

“Making sure you didn’t feel her up!” V replied, turning to send a glare to the older. When the teacher came back in, you coughed and adjusted your collar, fanning your heated cheeks. You didn’t know what you were so nervous about. The fact that V had his face so close to yours or that he was accusing you of doing something with RM. 

When school ended, you were still feeling flustered so you quickly packed up your things and sped off without a goodbye. The boys were all dumbfounded, sending V a glare. 

“You did that.” Jin frowned. 

“How is that my fault?” V raised his hands. 

“You interrogated her and made her feel uncomfortable. We all have to share her, you know? If Namjoon wants to spend time alone with her. He can.” J-Hope lightly hit his brother’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to take a walk. You guys go ahead.” V shoved his hands into his pockets and left. He walked around, kicking stones and keeping his head down. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he ran his hands through his hair. His wolf was just feeling so impatient and wanted you to be with them now. 

Taehyung also felt bad that he was lying to you. He wanted you to know the truth about everything.

“Apologise to (y/n), Tae.” Jimin told him. 

“I know, I will.” Taehyung didn’t know where you worked so he went home to change and put his bag down before heading over to your house. He sat on the log by your front yard to wait for your return. 

Taehyung didn’t know that he fell asleep until he heard a gasp, followed by a growl. Turning around, he saw you backing away in fear. You haven’t seemed to notice him yet so he ducked behind a bush to shift into his wolf form. He leapt in front of him. 

“T-Taehyung?!” You cried out in relief and fear for your beloved wolf. 

*growl*

“Be careful, Tae.” You cautioned. The dark wolf had flashing red eyes as he bared his canines at Taehyung, his back hunched in defence. Taehyung lunged himself at the wolf and they tumbled around. You screamed. 

“Taehyung!” You gasped. 

“You stay away from her.” Taehyung snapped his jaws at the stranger. You ran into your house, trying to find whatever thing you could to try and help Taehyung. You saw your grandfather’s baseball bat and grabbed it, running back out. It was hard to see in the dark but when you saw the stranger nailing Taehyung down, you took the opportunity to swing. 

The wolf let out a yelp as he fell off, giving Taehyung the chance bite into the wolf’s neck, but not enough to kill him. He quickly took off. 

“(y/n).” Taehyung turned to you. He would have chased after that intruder but his priority was you. 

“T-Tae...” Your legs were wobbly as the bat fell from your hands, hitting the floor. As your vision blurred and you fell to the ground, Taehyung quickly shifted back and caught you in his arms. 

“Hyungs, Jungkook.” Taehyung whimpered as he held an unconscious you in his arms. As he waited for the others to come, he brought you into the house. 

“Tae.” He heard Namjoon’s voice as he tucked you into bed. 

“There was an intruder. His scent is everywhere. I got him in the neck but he ran off.” Taehyung shifted back into a wolf as he joined his pack. The 7 wolves sniffed the ground, indeed, it was the same scent as before. The same one they found while taking a walk. 

“Is she hurt?” 

“No. She was scared though. She managed to hit it with her bat.” Taehyung used his snout to point at the wooden bat that was left on the dirt. 

“Even in fear, she’s still merciless.” Suga snorted. 

-

“Taehyung!” You gasped as you woke up. Quickly, you ran downstairs and burst out the front door to see the 7 boys sitting in the yard, no wolves in sight. They all turned their attention to you.

“You’re awake.” Jimin approached you first. You nodded your head. 

“What happened?” You asked. 

“V was coming over and saw you passed out on the ground. We carried you back into your house. Are you feeling okay? Light headed or anything?” RM stroked your head. You shook your head, frowning slightly. Had everything just been a dream? But it felt so real. Seeing the look on your face, the boys all shot each other a look. 

“Sorry, we didn’t know if we should have brought you to a doctor instead but we felt it wasn’t a good idea for you to go to school.” Jungkook said. 

“No, don’t apologise. I should be the sorry one. You guys skipped school because of me.” You scratched your head. 

“Don’t sweat it. School’s boring anyway.” J-Hope yawned. 

“Thanks, V.” You smiled at the male. He nodded his head and sent you a boxy smile. You were still feeling a little disorientated. You looked down at your hands. Were you really almost attacked last night? Did you or did you not use a bat to beat a fierce wolf last night? 

“You should rest more, (y/n). You still look a little shaky.” Seokjin put his arm around you and led you into the house. 

“Wait, come over for tea later.” You turned to tell the other boys. They nodded their heads, sending you a thumbs up. Seokjin walked you up the stairs and followed you into the room. 

“Everything that happened last night felt so real.” You said. 

“What?” Seokjin asked. You shook your head as you laid down and he tucked you in. 

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself, (y/n). That’s probably why you passed out. Your health is important. Luckily V found you before anything serious could have happened.” Seokjin sent you a soft smile. You nodded your head.

“I’ll see you later.” He squeezed your hand and left, closing the door behind him. Once he shut the front door behind him, the boys went back to their house. 

“Ready?” Namjoon looked at the others. 

“Yes.” They all shifted, taking off into the forest. They were going to find that intruder and find out what was his intention with you. 

“It’s almost 3. Where are the others?” Namjoon asked Jimin, as he adjusted the watch around his wrist. He realised that it was only him, Jin and Jimin in the living room, ready to go. The two being omegas, they don’t really deal with whatever the alphas and the betas have to do, which was kind of a win situation for them in this case.

“Getting ready. They just came out of the basement.” The smaller replied. 

“Guys, we need to go.” Namjoon called. The 4 other wolves came down the stairs, all freshened up and dressed. 

“We’ll get back to that later. We wouldn’t want to be late.” He told them and they nodded in agreement. Wearing their shoes, they locked the door and made their way to yours. 

“Smell that?” Jungkook asked. They didn’t even need to enter the house to smell what you were baking for their visit. The aroma of butter, chocolate and vanilla filled the air that surrounded the house. 

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Coming~” You replied. The smell only intensified when you opened the door for them. The boys nearly drooled at the sugary scent that mixed with yours. With a welcoming smile, you stepped aside for them to enter. They went to sit in the living room. 

“I’ll be done in a second!” You went back to the kitchen. Looking back at how the boys were sitting, it was like you were looking at the wolves. 

“Take your time.” J-Hope smiled at you. 

“Are you making cookies?!” Jungkook appeared behind you, making you jump and almost drop the plate. But he was quick enough to catch it, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you as well. 

“JEON JUNGKOOK!” The elders tensed. 

“Are you okay?” He asked lowly. You nodded your head and he grinned, letting you go. 

“You scared me.” You put a hand on your chest as you sighed. Jungkook placed the plate down on the counter next to you. Picking up a cookie, you handed it to him to at least satiate him a little. He made sounds of happiness and he ran out of the kitchen to show off to his hyungs that he managed to get a treat from you. 

*He’s just like Kookie. Always wanted a treat before dinner.* You thought fondly, a soft smile on your face. 

“Here. I’m not sure what you guys would prefer so I made an assortment of cakes and cookies. Can I get anything you guys anything to drink?” You placed the plates down. 

“I’ll help.” Suga stood up. 

“No, it’s fine. You already served me at your house, it’s my turn now.” You turned down with a small smile and he nodded, sitting back down. 

“I’ll have an iced americano.” He ordered. The rest all ordered their own coffee preferences as well, except V, who wanted fruit tea. You made all their orders for them, laying it out on the table as you took a seat on the ground, beside V and J-Hope. 

“This is good!” Jungkook said, his mouth stuffed with cake. 

“I’m glad you like it. Slow down, Kookie.” You reached out to dust off the crumbs from his face. But quickly, retracted your hand. 

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know what’s gotten into me recently. That was totally uncalled for. I mean, Jungkook.” You shook your head. You mentally scolded yourself for thinking it was the wolf, Kookie. 

“At least she remembers.” Jungkook thought with a loving smile. 

“Don’t worry, (y/n). I’m glad you’re comfortable around us. And you can call me Kookie if you’d like.” He assured. 

“No, it’s okay. Kookie was just... the name of someone who was important to me so I mistook your name for it. That’s all.” Your tried to act chill and brush it off. The boys all softened as you said that the wolves were important beings in your life and you wouldn’t want to give their names to anyone else. It just proved how much love you had for them. 

~~

Tag list

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[laos-soft-bunny]

Kenshi: baby Faced.

So fluffy. So much fluffiness the clouds are jealous.

———

You are dancing in the kitchen to Ed Sheeran’s “thinking out loud” while making a cake for Kenshi’s birthday. Kenshi was upstairs taking a shower after a long day of fighting. He knew how much you loved the beard but even how much more you loved the soft face. Of course Kenshi being who he was, the sword was his weapon of choice to shave his face. He was blind but very intelligent. He hated surprise birthdays but for you, he made a small exception. He tried his best to avoid your thoughts of what icing to put on the cake. That was very complicated though. Because he constantly heard your voice. “Chocolate or butter pecan” Kenshi taunted to himself as he decided to butt into your head just a little bit. Using his telekinesis he whispered in your head “hm butter pecan sounds pretty tasty”. You yell from the kitchen “KENSHI! Stay outta my thoughts about your cake!” You can’t help but laugh. Kenshi smiles and sends you a cute little “no” through his thoughts. You shake your head and smile like an idiot, trying not to think anymore on his surprise party you had halfway done.

Kenshi decides to rest his head against the wall and let the water run down his body. The hot water releasing tension in his muscles. Meanwhile down in the kitchen you had balloons tied to the chair, the cake on the table, and boxes of pizza on the table. Sure it wasn’t much but Kenshi was not a hard man to please at all. You sneak into the bathroom and place the cute matching pj set out on the counter. It was a lazy night at home and you figured for his birthday you’d do something cute. You were thinking about dinosaurs while you were close to him, from the shower a loud laugh erupted. “Dinosaurs.. really” Kenshi said out loud, with a laugh that could melt ice. unaware you were right there, trying to keep quiet. You quietly left out of the bathroom and he shook his head. Your footsteps were not missed this time. “Hmm what are you doing baby~” his thoughts appeared in your head again. “Trying to be sneaky?” He asked you, but no response. Until seconds later he heard your thoughts. “Damn it he caught me”. Kenshi tisked softly and took his time washing his hair.

You finished setting the presents on the table and grabbed his favorite bottle of wine to set on the table. Kenshi kept his thoughts to himself while he finished his shower, cleaning off the sword with precision. It was just his thing that when he was clean, so was his blade. Kenshi placed the sword back in its sheath that was hanging on the wall. Letting out a content sigh he turned off the water and rubbed a hand over his face. As always he missed nothing. Kenshi could hear the flame from the candle in the bathroom and the smell of pumpkin pecan waffles filled the room. Your favorite candle. It threw him off for a second. “Ah she’s lit a candle” he whispered to himself. He lifted it with skill with his powers and let it land in his hand, inhaling the scent. That was secretly his favorite too. He set it back on the sink, and his hand grazed over the soft, fluffy pjs that were neatly folded. Kenshi smiled and started to dress.

You were sitting at the table reading a book waiting on your love. Kenshi came down the stairs, his sheathed sword in hand. He hangs the sword on the wall, before he approaches the table. You get up to greet him. Elvis’s can’t help falling in love was playing on the tv. Wrapping his arms around you, Kenshi begins to sway softly with you, singing softly “I can’t help falling in love with you”. You smile and give him a soft kiss. You guide him over to the table. The cake smell catches his nose and he lets out a soft, content sigh. “It smells delicious love” he comments, giving your hand a kiss. You are leaned around him, arms over his shoulders, as you reach to light the candles on his cake. “Those candles say 29 right” Kenshi asks, titling his head slightly. He didn’t feel 29. You made him feel like a child in love. “Of course baby.” You whisper giving him confirmation. “Make a wish, my handsome swordsman” you whisper giving him a cheek kiss. “I have everything I could ask for already” he whispers back, smiling and blowing out the candles.

Kenshi smiles and plucks the 2 candle straight out of the cake and starts eating the icing off of it. “Oh butter pecan.. no wonder it smells so good” Kenshi said as he licked it clean. Butter pecan was his favorite. You pulled the pizza box open and Kenshi almost swooned. It was from his favorite pizza place. “Oh I’m getting spoiled today aren’t I” Kenshi asks you, licking his bottom lip. “God you know I hate spoiling but you make me feel like a god” Kenshi says, giving his head a little tilt toward you beside him. You smiled and said “only for the best man in the world. You deserve to be spoiled”. He takes a bite of the pizza and the cheese just melts in his mouth. You had the wine already poured and he picked up a glass with his free hand and brought it to your lips. You drank gently and then laid your head on his shoulder. “You pulled out all the stops today with my favorites didn’t you babe” Kenshi gives a playful taunt to you. you think to yourself “I’m so thankful he’s enjoying this.” Kenshi interrupts your thoughts with his own. “It’s you. I enjoy anything you do. And cherish it.” You blush and giggle. You and Kenshi eat your fill of pizza and wine then he brings the knife off the counter with his mind. He’s always impressive when he moves things without even trying.

Kenshi cuts the cake with ease and gives you the first bite off his fork. He loved your baking and he wasted no time in eating a slice of that delicious heaven. Kenshi didn’t know there was gifts until you plopped a box in his lap. He let out a heart melting laugh and asked you “what is this. I feel the wrapping paper but it’s like nothing is there.. did you wrap air”. You playfully slapped his arm “I’m not that skilled. Air is pretty hard to wrap” you told him in a fit of giggles. Kenshi runs his hand over it and shreds the paper after tilting his head toward the gift. “A sword sheath?” He asks, feeling the material in his hand. “Genuine leather. Wow that was light”. Kenshi remarks and his fingers find his name carved into it. “I figured you needed a new one. Your other one is roughed up” you told him, with a smile, watching him adore the gift. “It’s perfect. I can’t wait to put my sword-“ he began saying As the sword flew across the room into his palm. “Into it” he finished the sentence with a laugh as the sword slid into the new holder. You just laughed with him. His skills were never unimpressive. He was so smooth. Speaking of smooth. Your hand went to his cheeks. “How did I not notice this?” You whispered and smiled to yourself like a giddy child.

Kenshi’s face lights up. He loved those cute giggles you made. He opened his other gifts and after opening the last one, he had you scooped up in his arms, swaying you to the music coming from the living room. He set you to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, dancing with you. You laid your head in the crook of his neck and slow danced with him. “This has been the best birthday a man could have asked to have” Kenshi whispers into your ear, and placing a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday Takahashi” you whispered back to him. “I love you forever” he whispered as he dipped you down and gave your neck a tender kiss. His eyes shined with love and adoration as he brought you back up, and rested his forehead against yours. He was glad this was his life with you.

[jasmine-the-fox]

I did the work... You guys were lazy

For this salt fic, I want you all to see what happens to the class for believing Lila and her lies and leaving behind Marinette... Also Damienette ship!!

For years Marinette didn’t think about her old class... Caline Bustier’s class was gone like the wind to her when she left Paris to go to Gotham for college, there were times when Alya and some of them will text her old number about demands of baked goods, dresses or new date Adrien plans... She would ignore them and at one point got rid of her phone as she was done with them, the only people she spoke to was Chloe who never believed Lila and even worked hard to be forgiven by Mari, Sabrina did so much research on Lila with Max that they too were forgiven with time, then was Alix who was visited by a furious Bunnix who showed Alix her future if she follows Lila.

Nathaniel was also someone who believe Mari, from the start he thought Lila was strange and one day with Marc spoke to Mari and has been loyal to her... Lastly was Kitty section, Luka was furious with them for listening to Lila about music and warned them about him quitting if they keep this up, after a while they heard Mari crying to Luka about what Lila did to her and they ended up leaving Lila, outside the class was of course Luka and Marc, Kagami, Aurore, Mireille, Ondine and Felix who is Adrien’s cousin, he was furious when Chloe told him about Adrien’s take the higher road line he told Mari.

Each of her friends did sadly go to different places and she only had Chloe with her in Gotham but that was fine with her, she still texted and did video calls with them so that was fine to her... And then she met Damian Wayne, the boy was cold and rarely spoke to anyone unless for a project he had to do in a team, slowly she began talking to him outside of class and that made him at some point want to speak with her about anything at all that wasn’t even related to school, with time Chloe helped her with there friends to change Marinette’s style, she went from pigtails to her hair down or in a braid, from white pink and gray to black and other kinds of colors.

She also began to wear make-up and she opened up a website for her designs, a blog so people can see tips and tricks on how to do things with clothes or how to fix something, she also took down all her previous accounts she had with the class following her and opened new accounts for her real friends to be seen with her, Damian would glare when his brother’s would talk about a new post on her social media or on her blog while his father often commissions her for clothes, this caused for her to become famous in Gotham and Clark interview her... Making her also famous in Metropolis.

And while she was becoming famous while still in school... Her class was losing there dreams, Alya was the first one to go through this, Nadja Chamack got to interview Lois Lane who ripped into the Ladyblog by pointing out posts she made that were lies and the consequences that would have happened if certain people saw them... Leading to her blog being taken down, she with Lila got sued and Lila was exposed as the liar she was including the bonus of Lila being deported back to Italy to live with her grand-parents who were sending her to a private school.

Slowly everyone including Adrien were targeted, Adrien being found out as Lila revealed that he and Marinette were the only ones who knew she was lying from the start... He was homeschooled once again but was able to go to college, he picked one his friends were going to with the grades they had but they all glared at him... But none of them thought to apologize to Mari for bullying her and claiming her to be a liar... Not until there bank accounts were frozen because there parents received from Tom and Sabine bills for each of there kids for baked goods, clothes, babysitting that Alya and Nino put on her at the last minute for a date and anything else that they never paid back.

That’s when they remembered Marinette, they all began trying to call and text her... But her number wasn’t available anymore as it wasn’t use so they couldn’t talk to her, Alya thought she was being petty while Adrien thought Mari was being selfish, with time they got back to work on what they wanted... And then they saw Mari on the news in Metropolis as an up coming designer, Gabriel Agreste saw a solution to the problem Lila brought to his work and told Adrien to try and talk to her and see if she would date him... Except Adrien didn’t have her current number.

It took some time but Gabriel ended up being invited to a Wayne Gala, he took his son and instructed him to try and get Marinette’s new number to try and then date her, Adrien was certain it would all go well and he would get her new number... Then everyone will be able to contact her and things will go back to normal for them, when they got there, Adrien began looking for Mari but saw Chloe with Damian Wayne and some girl with short hair, he decided to ignore them for now and focus on searching for Mari but couldn’t find her at all.

“Adrien? I’m surprised that your here since your father always comes alone” he turned to find Chloe and the girl from earlier, Damian wasn’t with them now and was instead talking to some guests “Hey there Chlo, my dad heard about Mari on the news and wanted to meet her and so I was just trying to find her for him” he explained as the girl looked annoyed at him while Chloe looked disappointed “Mari has been next to me from the start... You should have come over the moment you got here” she said as Adrien looked shocked at Marinette, her hair was now chin length, her dress was a beautiful red dress with a beautiful dragon design.

Chloe had to then walk away to speak with a guest, leaving the two alone, Adrien began trying to start a conversation but Mari simply went with short and simple answers... No going into detail of things, this was not the Marinette Dupain-Cheng he knew so he had to do something, he then began asking her if she could show him around Gotham while he was here, if she would like to have lunch with him at some point and even if she would like to dance with him... She said straight up no and didn’t give him a reason as to why, still wanting her number to begin contacting her, he decided to wait until she was drinking wine before snatching her phone from her purse and adding her number to his phone and sending it to the class before putting it back into her purse.

He just had to tell her she gave it to him while she was a little drunk, it would be just fine in the end and nothing would go wrong... He was wrong, the next day, police came to arrest him for stealing her phone and sending her number to others who contacted her the whole night... He tried to defend himself but security camera’s caught him stealing her phone and slipping it back, he was being sued and a restraining order was on him to stay away from her while she once again changed her number and ended up telling her clients about it... Gabriel was disappointed in his son for he had to go meet with her to try and fix everything... While trying to get her to agree to going on a date with his son.

She was already dating Damian though.

He found out when he saw them together, Damian had called her Angel and they kissed before he left, she refused to go on a date with his son or to remove the restraining order on his son... But Gabriel won’t give up “Make one of them hate the other, anything will do but make one of them dump the other!” he ordered his son who nodded to the demand, since Adrien couldn’t get close to Mari... He had to aim for Damian, he decided to us a few pictures he took of her in the past to make Damian think she has been dragging around a bunch of guys and girls, he didn’t care that Nino and Kim knew from childhood, he also didn’t care that Chloe and Kagami were in a relationship with one another, he didn’t care about Luka and Felix’ pride.

He was going to win this no matter what... He will make his father proud of him.

He was sent back to Paris to be put in jail there three days later, he really didn’t know what went wrong, all he did was show Damian the pictures and told him a few lies about her... And next thing he knew police was at his hotel room door and took him away to get to the airport to get to Paris, what he didn’t know was that Damian had seen those very pictures on Mari’s old friends and current friends social medias, so he knew he was lying from the start and called the police about it, Gabriel tried to stop them but he too was sent back to Paris for Nathalie had given the police a recording of Gabriel telling Adrien to try and get Mari’s number and have her date him.

Because of this both of there miraculous were taken, since Ladybug was now part of Batman’s team and had warned the police about the Agreste father and son having one each, Nathalie of course gave up her’s with the info and then returned early to Paris to take care of things there... And get Lila into even more trouble as she did work with Hawkmoth all this time, even so it wasn’t over, after a while in prison Adrien was released but not his father, after that Adrien saw his friends and fixed everything with them since he did get Mari’s number for them... If only for a while, so they forgave him, Adrien ended up getting the whole Agreste fortune and he then sold the mansion and the fashion company to live in an apartment.

His friends all worked hard to save up money to have a class reunion, with time everything was planned out and they got the whole class notified about it so they know when it happens and where to go at what time, they were so happy to have it happen as they couldn’t wait to see everyone, when the day came they were shocked at the friends they thought were evil...

Max and Sabrina ended up getting married, it was big and hard to get into a news reporter was able to find out from Sabrina that her dress was made by Marinette herself, Kitty section ended up breaking up, Juleka was now a model for Mari while Rose became a writer, Mylène was now a famous actress and happily married to Ivan who was now a famous song writer, Chloe and Kagami also got married, Chloe was Marinette’s assistant while Kagami opened up a Tsurugi fencing school in Gotham, Luka was now following Jagged Stone and becoming a famous singer and guitar player, Nathaniel become her website artist, helping her redesign her site page depending on new themes and seasons while Felix was Marinette’s image manager.

They were all there, even Lila... But Marinette was nowhere in sight, they all tried getting answers but the gang had ignored them, Aurore, Ondine, Mireille and Marc found it funny that they would try to get answers on Mari after all this time they had bullied her, Marinette then walked in arm in arm with Damian Wayne, they looked amazing in there outfits, just like all of her friends as they too were wearing her designs, the two walked around to greet her friends and see how they were doing since the last time they had spoken together, Alya and the gang tried to talk to her but all she did was ignore them... Lila on the other hand glared at Mari.

Everything Marinette was doing and getting... Should have been her, Lila should have been the one to meet Damian Wayne, she should be the one dating him, SHE should be the one becoming famous! But no! She was found out as being dangerous, working with a villain like Hawkmoth destroyed everything she could hope for... Now she worked part-time at some little restaurant in Italy being barely paid much with the hopes of meeting some rich guy to sweep her off her feet, she looked at times towards Adrien, he may no longer be a model for his father’s designs but he was now modeling for an agency who knew of what he liked, disliked and wanted to work in.

Even so she was disappointed when she saw how Adrien was focused on Mari, he still wanted to be with her,  he began walking towards “Agreste! You know that the restraining order is still on you! Take one more step towards Mari and I will call the cops!” Chloe shouted making the other’s of the class look at her in shock, Restraining order? On Adrien? To not get close of sweet innocent Marinette? Chloe must be lying, so of course Alya snapped back with Nino on her side on how Adrien has a right to greet Mari, they claim he’s allowed to go see her and insist he does, Kim pushes him forward towards Mari while Sabrina calls her dad to inform him about Adrien breaking the restraining order.

He got there in just a few minutes...

“Mister Agreste due to the fact that you broke the restraining order miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng placed on you after you stole her phone during a Wayne gala and then sent her number to an unknown number of people you will be coming with me to the station” Roger said as he cuffed Adrien and forced him to follow to his police car, Alya, Nino, Kim and Lila were in a massive shock at this... So Chloe was right, Marinette did put a restraining order on Adrien... Because they wanted her number to talk to her again since she changed it after all this time, and now here she was, changed and not allowing them to talk to her and to apologize for what they did.

The whole event ended and by morning everyone was on a plane to get back to where they live or are to be staying for work, about a week later Alya found out in the paper that Marinette was going to become a Wayne soon, she so badly wanted to report about in order to help her make it big so she with Nino got to the airport and paid for plane tickets to Gotham to speak with her, they found where she worked and begged to see her “Alya? Nino? Can I ask why your here in Gotham?” they turned to find Mari with Damian, they were just about to leave for lunch when she saw them “Mari! Gurl you NEED to let me report about your wedding! This could give me a huge break and get to become a reporter again!” Alya claimed as Mari glared at her.

“What do you mean by again? Alya all this time, you were not a reporter... You were the owner of a tabloid that posted every single lie Lila spoke to you, and as for this big break of yours it was destroyed the second Lois spoke about the Ladyblog, try anywhere and they will reject you because Lois is the one who reveals who is a good reporter... And those who are like you... Trash under our feet” Mari hissed and began walking with her fiancé too the door until she turned to the front desk “Alissa, please get these two on the blacklist and kick them out, I don’t want to see this trash by the street when I get back” she said and walked out like this wasn’t anything new for her to say.

Marinette worked hard to get to where she was... With the help of her friends and Damian... But her three remaining classmates all believed that Lila would help them skip up to the lifestyle she has now... But everyone knows you need to put the effort into things to get there.

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Flour Cheeks;; YHS

Word Count;; 1.6k

Genre;; Fluff Overload!

Pairing;; Hongseok x Reader

Summary;;

While you understand that some mornings you'll wake up alone, your curiosity does get the better of you when you realise your boyfriend has chosen to leave the comfort of your shared bed despite not needing to. It's warm, fluffy, and soft and filled with the possibilities of additional dreaming and yet you soon find yourself also being drawn away from its comforts.

Request;;

Hiii! Can I please request something fluffy with Pentagon's Hongseok? Maybe cooking him and y/n cooking and being all cute? Thank you!! <333​

Warnings;;

None!

Notes;;

I remember him cooking well in one of his lives so I went to look for it and found the waffle incident instead ahsjjdkfkg. Also sorry I took longer than I said I would! Our parents stopped by while we were doing our laundry and I didn't have time to write like I thought I would. Hope you enjoy this all the same and...

Happy late birthday to our Honk Honk! ♡

My Masterlist

   Sunlight streamed in through the curtain's gap to cover the duvet in splashes of yellow and white. It brightened the room, forcing you to squint while you checked your phone's notifications. With a huff, you tossed the device back onto the bedside table and closed your eyes once more.

   It was getting late. The sun was high in the sky as if to taunt you for your laziness and the room warmed beneath its abundant rays. You soon found yourself kicking the bedding clear off the mattress as you flipped over and away from the window.

   Due to the lack of your boyfriend's firm chest to stop you from invading his side of the bed, your initial roll was followed by another, more exaggerated flop. Spreading your limbs with a strained sigh, you once again tried opening your eyes. The room was still bright but you pushed through the searing discomfort to search for Hongseok.

   Though the bathroom door was only propped open by a sliver, the lack of light and movement was enough for you to write it off as empty. The bedroom itself provided a similar scene: devoid of Hongseok but with small clues as to his whereabouts. His house shoes were moved but his phone was still on the charger. The dresser hadn't closed all the way, catching on one of his shirts. He had been in a rush and yet he hadn't dressed to go out, having grabbed clothes from the casual section of his wardrobe.

   You chuckled and shook your head. Whatever had been on his mind wasn't important enough to wake you up and you were grateful for the additional rest. Stretching once again, you pushed the remainder of the bedding off with a yawn before curling up into a ball.

   His side of the bed smelled like him (surprise, surprise) and you enjoyed the mornings when you could sleep in after he left almost as much as the mornings you woke up beside him. You pushed your face into his pillow and sighed. His body wash and shampoo flooded your senses. It was comforting and it made you feel safe because he made you feel safe.

   You inhaled breath by breath, drifting off to sleep until the soothing scent of Hongseok dissipated and was replaced by the strong, undesirable scent of burning. Your eyes snapped open a step slower than your body that had already slid out of bed. Without stopping to grab your shoes or to throw on pants, you fumbled out of your shared bedroom.

   The apartment wasn't huge and it didn't take long for your legs that were in pursuit of the smoke to stumble into the kitchen. Inside you took note of your handsome boyfriend wearing that ridiculous apron you had bought him as a gag gift for his last birthday. Flour graced his tanned cheeks and you fought back a laugh, biting your lip to keep yourself silent. His expression was both serious and exasperated while he observed the steady pillar of smoke escaping the miniature waffle maker.

   "If you make it too obvious, the insurance won't pay out," you teased. His eyes latched onto your form, lingering on your bare thighs that peeked out from beneath his oversized shirt. A grin formed on his lips as he beckoned you to his side. You were quick to oblige. "So what's up? Making breakfast?"

   "Good morning beautiful. I can't answer any questions until I have a kiss." He tapped his cheek twice. Powder still marked them. You leaned around him to grab a kitchen towel and you found it through memory rather than sight, your gaze focused and locked onto his. Though he tapped his foot in impatience, he was smiling and mischief shone in his eyes.

   The cloth wasn't the softest material so you were cautious of how much pressure you exerted on his soft skin. It wasn't until you pulled away to admire your handiwork that you noticed the towel (and most of the surfaces nearby) was also covered in flour and your attempt to wipe away the powder had only created a bigger smudge. Your whole body trembled with the bottled-up laughter brewing deep in your chest. "What? What's so funny?"

   "You're covered in flour, baby." You managed to force the words out before you let loose and your laugh filled every corner of the room. Hongseok frowned and turned away from you, focusing his attention back on the waffle maker. At least it was no longer smoking. Next to the appliance was a plate of… something you couldn't quite identify. "And what the hell is that?"

   "What? That? You can't tell? It's clearly a waffle. And here I thought you were cultured," he said, his voice strained as he tried to pry the appliance open. Upon noticing the secured latch, you nudged him aside and popped the lock before flipping the lid open. Out of instinct his arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back away from the billow of steam that rushed upward out of the small machine.

   "What's the point of using the waffle maker if it doesn't make waffles?" He whined, resting his head on your shoulder.

   "Did it make that"—distaste crossed your face as you gestured toward the plate of goop—"mess too?"

   "No, I tried… it doesn't matter. The last resort is the other waffle maker."

   "Or maybe we should stop now while we're only at two losses?"

   "I'm a man who never gives up, baby. You know this."

   Hongseok flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with determination as he cleared the counter. While his attention was on whipping up another batch of mixture, you decided to clean up his prior attempts. You scraped off the goo from the plate and ran it under hot water while you disconnected the miniature waffle maker and waited for it to cool down enough to soak the inner dish. The dishes stacked up in the sink and the small tower of plastic threatened to collapse like a Jenga tower when you added the last powder bowl Hongseok had discarded to the top.

   "So what's the special occasion?"

   "Are you kidding or do you owe me a massage?"

   A massage? That could only mean-

   Shoot!

   "I was just kid-"

   "Looks like my honey bunny owes me a massage! What a great start to our anniversary!"

   "But I didn't forget!"

   "Nah uh. I said the same thing last year, I was in the same boat, and you didn't go easy on me so I don't think I'll go easy on you, either."

   "Hongseokkie," you pouted, jutting out your lips as you pulled on his arm. Your mind wandered when he flexed under your grasp, his muscles toned and strong. His efforts at the gym never went unnoticed. He continued his attempt to mix the blueberries and bananas into batter, oblivious to how your gaze devoured him. "I didn't forget."

   "If I say I believe you, will you give me a massage anyway?"

   "Maybe."

   "Well I don't believe you."

   You scoffed, a playful smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, "Alright, alright. Fine, I forgot, and you'll get your massage as owed. Now will you please abandon this futile waffle mission? We can just have our usual instead. Nothing beats healthy, anyway."

   "Abandon as in give up? Who do you think I am? I'm going to make you the best damn waffles, just you watch."

   "Right, right. Of course. And I'll try not to starve in the meantime."

   He ignored your comment and focused on pouring the batter into the second waffle maker. This one was bigger, at least in comparison to the miniature maker. The miniature (theoretically) baked bite-sized waffles with little snowflakes on them. This regular-sized and completely average waffle maker had no special gimmick. It was straight-forward and easy to use.

   Except that it wasn't.

   Once Hongseok's pride diminished just enough to summon you back into the kitchen, you found yourself also struggling to make a single waffle that could pass as a waffle. None of your creations were recognisable as a breakfast treat. Some weren't even recognisable as food. Several plates of "waffles" had built up, each featuring varying degrees of baked all the way from gooey to charred. Your solo attempts hadn't fared any better.

   "Can we give up yet?"

   "No." He grabbed a piece of overcooked waffle from the maker and frowned. Half of the batter was close to burning while the other half was still liquid. With great caution, he nibbled on it. The regret was immediate. He thrusted it in your direction. "Try this."

   "Gross," you said, pretending to gag. He took the opportunity to shove the waffle piece into your mouth. You swatted him away seconds too late. He laughed, dodging your flailing hits. Though crunchy and quite dry, the waffle wasn't actually that bad. It could be worse, you thought, eyeing the discarded plates. Much worse.

   "So…"

   "So…" you echoed. When he didn't continue, you nudged his slumped shoulder. His expression screamed disappointment upon looking at the numerous attempts which then morphed into irritation as he glared at the appliance and its lustrous shine. Despite the abundance of use it had undergone over the last few hours, it looked brand new and somehow clean. "While this has been quite the adventure, should we settle down with some oatmeal and relax?"

   "You want to give up?"

   "On the waffles? Yes. I'd rather cuddle with you than fight with this clearly defective waffle maker."

   "Waffle makers," he empathised, glaring over at the abandoned miniature version.

   "If nothing else, we've created a memory that will last a lifetime and I can't think of a better gift to receive on our very special day."

   "I can think of something." You knew by his cheeky grin just what he planned to do and before he even raised his finger, you began to lean into his space. He pointed at his cheek all the same and awaited your kiss. Once again you laughed at his cute antics but this time you followed it up with a kiss.

[mywonuderful]

Close Strangers

Summary: You recently move in to a new condo complex, finding that a very attractive neighbor lived beside you. You’ve encountered each other multiple times, exchanging shy glances blushes and conversation and before you know it, you’ve fallen head over heels for your next door tenant. The new years is coming up, which you’ve spend either video calling your parents or alone for the most part, but the ending of this year and the beginning of the next is sure a surprise.

Pairing: Optional Male Bias (H/N) X Female!Reader

Genre: Fluff, and poorly attempt of humor

Warnings: Drinking

A/N: Happy new year everyone! 2020 has been a year filled with the unexpected, upside downs and rollercoaster rides but with the start of 2021, let’s all stay positive, healthy and make lots of memorable memories. I hope everyone has a wonderful start of the new year!

main masterlist

You knew he did the big three (squats, deadlifts and bench press) by the way he walked passed the front gate security, nodding a ‘hello’ before flashing his charming smile to whoever passed him as he walked back to his unit. It’s been almost a year since you moved into your new home, and also almost a year since you’ve fell for him; your extremely attractive next door neighbor. You were leaning against your balcony railing, sipping on your hot drink while following his small figure from your floor. Despite living on a higher level, the veins on his arms and hands popping out were still visible through his thick sweater where his sleeves were pulled up, holding the packed bags of groceries. 

You’d be lying if all those times you coincidently bump into him in the halls or the elevator weren't planned, trying the start a conversation with him to only chicken out, stuttering majority of the time as you sound like a blabbering mess. Sometimes you’ll see his blurred figure on the balcony beside yours through the frosted glass screen as you find yourself unconsciously heading out, sitting on your patio couch, reading your novel, looking at the sky or people watching with his presence of him typing on his laptop which you found oddly relaxing. It was new year’s eve, a normal day for you where the most you did on this day was video call your parents. But this year, you decided to add a little spark to the last day of the year, which was attempting to cook yourself dinner, something you don’t find your most confident. You decided to do some shopping before supermarket closed early. You threw on a sweater and some pants before putting on a jacket, closing the door behind you. As you turned around, you saw the elevator doors open, like the gates to heaven were opening, as he walked out, eyes raising to meet yours before his lips curved up into a smile, his eyes crinkled making your heart flutter. You smiled, walking towards the elevator.

“Good afternoon.” His slowed down his steps as the two of you approached each other.

“Good afternoon.” You replied, eyes tracing down on his white knuckles from clutching onto the bags. “Do you need some help?”

“It’s okay. I’m almost there anyways.” His eyes followed yours. You looked back up, seeing his smile which definitely had a different affect up close.

“Are you sure?” You tried asking once more, seeing that one of the bags were on the edge of ripping. Right as he was about to open his mouth and decline, the bag ripped as vegetables bounced onto the floor, rolling off into different directions. “Well, it seems like there’s no deny for needing help now.” You chuckled as he followed.

 “Let me drop off these bags first.” He quickly walked to his door, entering in his passcode before dropping them in the doorway, helping to pick up the fallen veggies.

“Are you throwing a party or something? This is enough to for a feast.” You questioned as you picked up what seemed to be a never ending motion of standing up and kneeling down. He laughed at your comment, kneeling down beside you to pick up the last bits. You turned to the last one as both of you reach out for it, his hand landing on top off yours before you retreated, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Thanks.” He said, standing back up. You placed the vegetables in the bag he opened up for you. “I just bought extras since the supermarkets won't be opening until a few days after new years.” He explained. “Are you headed out to a gathering?” He questioned, seeing you ready to head out.

“Oh no. I’m just headed out to get some groceries before they close.” His mouth parts as he lets out a silent ‘ah,’ nodding along. “Well...”

“Well...” You mirrored, finding yourself in an awkward silence, staring at the floor as he looked around the hall as if it was his first time being here. “I’ll be going then.”

“Be careful.” He watched you click the elevator button before heading back into his home. Once you heard his door lock, you couldn’t help but to break out into a smile, from his words that probably didn’t much. Your steps were light to the grocery store, feeling cheery as you hummed while shopping.

---

“Okay... This can’t be too hard.” You mumbled as you placed your laptop with the recipe on the kitchen counter, putting on an apron before tying your hair up. You settled on making a 'one sheet pan dinner' recipe that highlighted 'fail-proof, lazy, quick and easy' which sold you away, feeling hopeful that it'll turn out well. You walked over to the living room, opening the curtains to the beautiful sight of the sun setting. One of the things you've loved about your condo unit aside from the fact that your dream man whom you barely know lives beside you and the fact that you have a breathtaking view of the sky, being able to see the sunset or rise was one of the main reason you sit out on your balcony so much. You opened the door to your balcony for some fresh air when your nose was filled with a delicious scent of meat and baked potatoes. You couldn't tell where it was from but the scent was sure strong enough that you almost wanted to drown yourself in that smell. Returning back to your kitchen, you started prepping your ingredients, off to a good start. You seasoned the meat, veggies and seafood when you froze, coming to realize that you forgot the potatoes. You could’ve just moved on, substituting it with another option but you had a sudden crave for it. You pondered for a few minutes before recalling that your neighbor, H/N bought a whole bag of potatoes.

‘He won’t be using all of the potatoes today right?’ You thought to yourself. You placed the pan into the oven first, so the food could start roasting while you fought between your two choices: ask Mr. Handsome or go craving for your sudden want of potatoes. You washed your hands before putting on your shoes, walking over next door before lightly knocking on his door. You heard faint holiday music behind his door before he opened it, a wave of flavorful aroma hitting your noise. “Is there something wrong?” You stared at his features. “Oh, sorry. My music must’ve been too loud.” You blinked yourself back to reality. “No no!” You said rather too loudly. “I couldn’t hear it. Don’t worry.” You reassured as he smiled, letting out a relieved laugh. “Um... I was wondering if you have any extra potatoes I could use.” “For sure. How many do you need?”  “2, if it isn’t too much to as for.” He nodded, heading into his kitchen as you took a peek into his apartment. It had a minimalistic vibe with a pop of colours here and there. As you eyes were about to wandering in more, his figure appeared before your eyes, passing you a bag. “Here you go. I washed a few extras so they’re already clean.” You took the bag, fingers brushing against each other for a split second as both glanced at each other before he let out a chuckle as his cheeks started tinted red. Yours following because of how adorable he looked. “Thank you.” You managed to speak through your pounding heart. “Do you have guests over?” “Guests? No, I just thought I’d make myself a nice dinner.” He spoke, you nodding. ‘Ask him over for dinner!’ a part of your mind spoke. You shook your head, getting rid of the weird thoughts as your eyes met his, eyes confused on why you were shaking your head. “And what about you?” “Same here. Except, I’m attempting to make myself dinner.” The both of you broke out into laughter. “Sounds like fun. Maybe the both- is something burning?” He stopped mid way of his question when both your noses lingered the scent of odor of burnt food. You eyes widen, remembering that you were roasting your dinner. You quickly ran back into your apartment and kitchen, to see that there was heavy clouds of smoke coming out of the oven. “Oh no!” You yelled, opening the oven door before involuntarily sticking your hand towards the pan to pull it out without wearing gloves before a shock of pain travelled to your hand as you pulled it back, shaking it frantically. You turned on the tap of cold water before running your hand under it, hissing as the pain still remained. There was motion of someone fanning something in the corner of you eyes when you turned your head, to see that H/N was not only in your home but also very sexily fanning the smoke alarm so that it doesn’t go off, alarming the whole condo complex. He dropped the rolled up magazine before running over to you. “Are you alright?” His hand wrapped around your wrist as he took a look at your redden hand. The pain started increasing as you scrunched your face, telling to hold in everything that you can to scream in pain. “This doesn’t look too good.”

---

You found yourself in a situation that happened all in a flash. One minute you were outside H/N’s door and the next moment, he’s sudden in your home, sitting on your couch with his first aid kit as he started putting on ointment on your injury. Your eyes went up to his face, which was dangerously close to yours as he dabbing some medication on your palm before you moaned, feeling the burning and irritating on your burned skin. “Sorry. Does it hurt?” His head shot up to yours. His voice was soft and his eyes filled with worried made you almost wanted to cause a dramatic scene. “Just a little bit.” You whispered. His touch was gentle as he wrapped a bandage around your hand. “Thanks.” “No worries. It might take a while to heal. It looked pretty bad.” He said, eyes lingered on your covered hand before up to you. “Sorry to bother you like this.” You felt guilty for taking up some of his time in the evening when he could be enjoying his fancy dinner. “If there’s anything I can do in retur-” “It’s no worry. I was the one who wanted to help you.” He avoided your eyes as your heart started skipping again. The two of you remained quiet, staring away from each other as his eyes looked around your simple and cozy home. “Do you.... By any chance want to have dinner with me?” Surprised, you turned to look at him. “I mean... You can’t really cook with your hand looking like that and my co-worker cancelled on my last minute so I made enough servings for 2 people...” He started rambling along, you finding it cute as you let out a laugh without thinking. “I can probably just order some take out.” You said, half wanting to accept his offer. “I’m technically already finished with cooking and all. Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” He voice was soft, with a hint of desperation. “Well... I guess I can’t turn down a delicious meal.” You said after ‘thinking’ about it. His eyes sparkled from you answer as he stood up. “Would you like to come over to my place or would you want me to bring the dishes here?” “Either is fine with me. Whatever works better for you.” You smiled, looking up to him. “I’ll bring the dishes over then.” He left. You sat there, in confusion on why he wouldn’t just invite you over to his place since that’ll save so much more of the hassle and all. But then again, you were extremely thrilled that you were about to have dinner with your long-term crush. He laid out a line full of dishes before your eyes. He sat on the seat across from you as you both exchanged awkward glances before breaking out into shy laughs and smiles. “Would you like some wine?” You offered, seeing that the only drink on the table was water. He smiled, nodding as you stood up, heading over your wine cooler. “Wow. I didn’t except you to be a wine drinker.” He commented as you pulled out the trays of wine.  “I know a thing or two about it. Is there anything you’ll like in particular?” Your hands hovered over the rows of wine, seeing what catches your eye. You did study wine in the past, as a hobby since you loved winding down to some good wine.

“How about Pinot Noir?” He suggested, as your eyebrow rose as the perfect wine came to your mind. You looked up, seeing that the bottle was at the very top. You tippy toed, trying to reach for it before a hand overlaps yours. You backed out, out of panic, hitting your back on his very toned and firm chest. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you there. Thought you needed some help.” He took the wine down. Your cheeks burning red as you touched them, hoping it’ll do any good to cool them down. “This is one of my favorite brands. I guess we have some things in common.” He chuckled. You brought over the wine glasses before he popped it open, pour you a glass before himself. “Cheers.” He held up his glass, the both of you toasting before digging in.

“This is amazing. Your co-worker is missing out on this.” You complimented as you sliced the meat, seeing how tender and perfectly cooked it was. “It’s nothing special.” He laughed as he took a sip from his glass. “I might need to start taking lessons from you.” You teased as you shared a light laugh, feeling a sense on comfort. “Anytime.”  You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at his offer as you thought to yourself how lucky you were. “Do you normally spend new year’s eve with your co-workers or friends?” You questioned, seeing if he would bring up his significant other, if he had one. “No, I usually spend new year’s alone. My co-worker and I planned on having dinner together but he canceled last minute, saying that his wife was coming back from overseas.” Your ears tingled as you heard ‘he.’ “You don’t have a girlfriend?” You daringly asked as he eyes glanced at you before looking away. You couldn’t tell if he was blushing or if it was the wine. But nonetheless, it sure did something to your feels. “O-Oh.... No, no I don’t.” He confessed as a wave of relief washed over you. “What about you? About spending new years that is.” “I usually spend them alone as well.” You answered with him looking at you. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” You laughed as you felt him asking that question through his eyes. He leaned back on the chair with a small nod and a “I see.”

The both of you finished dinner, fighting over who cleans the dishes. You won over him, as he sat on your couch, watching you as you washed the dishes. You felt his stare as you tried to remain focus, looking down on the sink to finish up rinsing the dishes. You sliced some fruits and bought out some dessert, placing them on a tray before bringing them out to the coffee table. “I normally have a sweet tooth after dinner so...” You trailed off his his eyes scanned the tray of desserts. “I love sweets.” The rest of the night, you both started sharing common interest, way more than you thought. “It’s been a year since you’ve moved in? I thought it was longer.” He refilled his glass of wine. “Right? I guess time flies when you’re in a comfortable place.” You smiled, looking around your home. “I still recall the first day you moved in.” He sudden spoke, as your eyes widen, the embarrassing memories coming back to you. On the first day you moved in, you tried to open the door of your home when it wouldn’t turn unlock, making you juggle, shake and whack around the key hole violently out of frustration. You turned around, seeing a man standing there staring at you as you realized that you were putting your keys into the room unit. Later on that day, you were handing out gifts to your new neighbors as you knocked on the door next to your, where you also tore down. The door opened as you were faced with the man from earlier, your eyes filled with horror and confusion because your landlord told you that a female lived next door. You handed him the gift, telling him to pass it on to the female tenant when he told you that he was the tenant living there, as he opened the present, pulling out a laced blouse.

“Hey, I was informed by the landlord that the person who was living next door was a lady who apparently shared many common interest with me! I thought you were her boyfriend or something.” You confessed as he started laughing. You stared at him for a second before laughing along, retracing the memories. “Well, she’s only right for the second half.” “Why do you still even remember it? I wish I could erase it from my memory forever.” “I mean you left quite the impression.” Your eyes fluttered up, feeling guilty. “That wasn’t meant to be an insult. I have seen anyone like you so it was quite refreshing and adorable.” Your mind couldn’t settle as his voice saying ‘adorable’ repeated in your head a thousand times.  After the two of you settled down, you turned on the TV, displaying that there was about 10 minutes left until the new year. There was a crowd of people in front of the town hall, where faces of couples, children and people happily smiling were shown on the screen. “I had a wonderful time today.” He turned to face you as you place down your half eaten cookie. “Me too. I realized how boring it can be being alone on new year’s eve... Or just any occasion honestly.” His eyes met yours before smiling. “But having dinner with you today was sure one of the highlights of my year.” “Likewise. I’m always a door away. So you’re welcome to stop by and chat no matter what time or day it is.... Just as long as I’m home and awake.” He laughed at the last part, you taking a mental note of it.

“Your company on the balcony is what make me feel like I have someone with me, even though they don’t see or realize it.” You suddenly confessed, regretting it after the words left your mouth. “Sorry I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.” “No, it’s alright. I see you out in the balcony reading sometimes so I work outside too. I mean, the company is nice.” Your ears couldn’t believe what they heard as the both of you fell into a deep shade of red. You stared at the TV, not knowing where to look as the both of you would catch each other giving each other shy glances.

“10! 9! 8!” People were screaming on the TV screen, counting down the remaining seconds of the year. “Shall we share a toast?” He stood up as you followed, holding up your glasses. “7! 6! 5!” “To a brightful start of the new year.” He said and you copied. “4! 3! 2!” “And a hopeful, promising future for the both of us,” He smiled, your heart was pounding like crazy as you followed his words. “1! Happy new year!” Couples kissing where shown on the screen as you and H/N stared at each other, holding up your glasses. He was looking at you as you looked at him, in shock and confusion with your heart almost jumping out of your chest.  “together.” He said with a gentle smile, lifting his glass towards yours. “together.” You smiled in return, as your glasses clinked together. 

And you knew for a fact that the new year was sure going one filled with heart fluttering surprises, events and memories with your next door tenant.

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Types of kisses with Jimin

First Kiss

Jimin had finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date. He was worried you would reject him and didn’t feel the same way. So after much encouragement from Taehyung he finally asked you, and when you agreed he was absolutely over the moon! He wanted everything to be perfect. Since you two had been friends for quite some time he wanted everything to be perfect so he could show you just how much he cared for you and was serious about a relationship with you. He took you to Busan to spend the day at the beach with him and watch the sunset. He had a blanket spread out close to the water, occasionally the waves would come high enough to barely touch the tips of your toes and you always let out a string of giggles that sounded like the sweetest melody to his ears. As the sun began to set and the sky was bathed in hues of orange and pink, you felt the tips of his fingers brushing shyly against your hand. Which was odd to you, Jimin was usually very affectionate with you and didn’t hesitate to initiate skinship. He seemed to be nervous or unsure of himself. 

“Jimin you can hold my hand, it’s okay. It’s not like you haven’t before.” You notice his lips puff out slightly in a pout and you get a strong urge to kiss him. But you push it down, for now. 

“Well, yeah but that was different before.”

“How?”

“We were friends before. Now we’re um.. together? At least I hope we are.”

“Are you asking to be my boyfriend Park Jimin?”

“Well uh- yeah I would love nothing more. But I just don’t know if you feel as strongly as I do. I have been crushing on your for so long, probably since we first met and holding your hand or hugging you always made butterflies flutter around in my stomach but now that I am on a date with you? It’s just that much more intense because I am not trying to push my feelings down anymore and keep them hidden so I just feel.. everything, and....”  He’s rambling now, and you decide to finally put him out of the anxious state he’s worked himself into by kissing him softly on the lips. He jumps and tenses for a moment, his eyes are comically wide until he closes them and lets himself get lost in the moment. With shaky hands he brings them both up to cup your face as he presses his lips more firmly to your own. You could easily stay like this forever, but you know he’s probably still lost in his head wondering what your answer would be. 

“I would love to be yours, Jimin.”

Lazy Kisses

You knew Jimin had spent most of the night practicing for their comeback stage, and that he would be exhausted the next day. So you woke up early to cook him breakfast and make sure he would be energized for his busy schedule. You walk into the room with a tray of food and open the curtains to let the sunlight in, but he wouldn’t budge. You set the tray on the nightstand next to him and run your finger through his hair, trying not to squeal over how adorable he looks with his lips pouted and eyes slightly scrunched from the light. 

“Jimin. Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.” He grumbles and throws the blanket over his head. You can’t help but chuckle as you crawl into bed next to him, and gently pry the covers away. His hair is sticking up in every direction and you’re so endeared by the sight of him. 

“I don’t wanna get up. Just want to stay in bed with you all day.”

“I know, and I would love that too but you have more practice today and you have to get up. Come on, I even made you breakfast!” He perks up a little and turns to his side to see what you’ve made for him. 

“Ah you’re an angel y/n! Thank you!” He leans in and kisses you gently. He pulls away and gives you an odd look, before leaning in to kiss you again. He kisses you all over your face, each kiss lingering longer than the last before a final one is planted on your forehead and you absolutely melt. 

“Could stay here all day just kissing you.” He mumbles against your forehead. 

“I could stay here all day getting kissed by you.” You feel him smile before he pulls away and finally sits up. He’s in the middle of eating when his phone chimes with a text message. He asks you to check it for him. 

“Looks like you get your wish after all. Namjoon says they are giving you guys the day off.” His face lights up almost immediately.

“Really?!”

“Yep! So hurry up and eat so we can go back to what we started.” You lay back down and within moment his soft lips are back on yours. You spend the day lost in one another and in each others arms, leaning in to kiss the other every so often just as a reminder of how much you care for each other. 

Heated Kisses

Jimin had been teasing you all day. He knew what he was doing, getting you riled up on purpose. It started when he invited you to the studio to critique a new dance he was working on for their comeback in a few months. Except in your mind you knew that was a lie. The way he was moving his hips and looking at you like he wanted to devour you, told you a completely different story. This was not some dance he was working on for a new song of theirs, no. This was just for you. When he started walking over to you, swaying his hips with a sultry gaze in his eyes you covered your face with your hands and screamed into them. 

“Park Jimin, what are you trying to do to me?”

“Hmm, nothing my love. I am afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He winks at you and immediately turns back around to turn the music off. “You want to go grab something to eat with the guys?” You nod your head, eager for a distraction to forget about what he was just doing moments ago. 

Except it wasn’t a distraction for you at all. Oh it was so much worse. He scooted his chair as close to yours as possible, and had his hand on your thigh the entire night, every once in a while moving it to your inner thigh and squeezing, most of the time causing you to let out a choked off sound and the other members to look at you with concern. 

“Everything okay y/n?” Namjoon asks. Jimin takes this opportunity to lightly ghost his fingers up your inner thigh, avoiding where you want him most. 

“F-fine! Oh would you look at the time. I think we should go now since I have to be at work in the morning.” 

“You have the day off tomorrow what are you talking about, y/n?” Jimin smirks at you as if to challenge you and you’ve had enough. 

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest then? Your precious little Jiminie here has been teasing me and getting me worked up all day and I can’t take it anymore. So if it is okay with you, I would like to go home with my boyfriend so he can finally finish what he started.” Jimin chokes on the rice he was shoveling into his mouth at your bold remark. 

“Ew! Okay both of you get out of here now. I don’t even want to think about that.” Jin makes a fake gagging noise and poor Jungkook is staring at you both in shock. 

“Alright then. Jimin, we’re leaving. Now.” You grab his hand and yank him up from the table and into the car. The moment he closes the door you’re in his lap, straddling his hips and gripping the hair at the back of his neck to pull him in for a heated kiss. He moans quietly in surprise, not expecting you to pounce on him so suddenly but he quickly catches up and his finger tips tightly grip your waist under your shirt. They ghost up your sides and lightly trail back down and you can’t help but shiver. You feel him smirk into the kiss before he pinches your side, causing you to yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you until you pull away, panting heavily and eyes lazily starting to droop closed as you try to relax and settle your racing heart.

“Are you tired already y/n? Oh, baby we’re just getting started.”

Sweet Kisses

Jimin’s kisses are always sweet in your opinion. But this time they were sweeter than normal. You two were making edible cookie dough in the kitchen. You were skeptical how good it was going to be, as the last time you two tried to bake it was a total disaster. You were still finding globs of batter in the kitchen even a month later. Jimin puts the spoon in his mouth and you carefully watch his expression. He seems to be thinking for a moment before a wide grin spread across his face.

“This is so good! Oh my god.” He grabs another spoonful and pops it into his mouth. “Oh this is absolutely heavenly.”

“Hey! Share some with me, I helped!” 

“No way! You were a nonbeliever and thought it was gonna be bad and made me try it first. I’m not sharing.” He clutches the bowl to his chest and you pout. “Don’t you look at me like that. No no don’t- Oh fine.” He holds the spoon out and you go to eat some but he quickly pulls it away and kisses you instead.

“Jimin, as much as I love your kisses. If you don’t let me try some of that I am going to hit you.” He bursts into laughter. 

“I will give you some. If you give me 10 more kisses!” And how can you say no to such a sweet request? You kiss his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose, his chin, the top of his head, and finally his lips. You did deepen the kiss to distract him while you snatch the spoon out of his hand and finally ate some of the cookie dough. 

“Oh wow this is good.” 

“You play dirty you know?” He’s pouting slightly so you hold the spoon back up to his lips. 

“Want to go watch our movie now?”

“Yes! But the bowl stays in the middle of the cushions between us.” You roll your eyes but it quickly turns into a fond smile when you see the way he’s looking at you.

Wedding Kiss

When it was announced that he could now kiss you and officially be married he froze. He couldn’t help it, his mind just blanked. And suddenly he was terrified that this was all just a dream. You could see the nervousness in his eyes and placed a comforting hand on his cheek.

“Jimin? My love, what’s wrong?” He seems to snap out of it as his gaze suddenly meets yours.

“Is this real? Like is this really happening? Are we about to be married? Because part of me feels like I am dreaming and just made the whole thing up. Because you’re so perfect. You mean the world to me. You’ve been there for me through anything and everything and have shown me so much love and care. I am just.. having a hard time believing you are r-OW! Why did you pinch my cheek so hard?!” A chorus of laughter rings out from the wedding guests, however Jimin hears your soft giggles over everything else. 

“To prove to you that you’re awake and not dreaming! Now kiss me please. I don’t want to wait another second to be Park Y/n.” His eyes fall onto your lips and he moves in. The kiss is gentle, and sweet. And holds all of the love he feels for you in that kiss. He can’t help it. He’s just so happy that he starts giggling joyfully into the kiss. The kiss turns playful, and soon he’s peppering kisses all over your face causing you to laugh even more. He moves his lips to yours once more and plants a final peck on them. 

“I love you, Jimin.”

“I love you too, y/n. So so much.”

[luki-fanfic]

Miraculous Ladybug - Kill Them with Kindness

So…Miraculous Ladybug has been disappointing for quite some time now.  I can barely even watch the show any more.  What started as a fun, sweet cartoon with a great premise has been all but run into the ground by bad writing, erratic characterisation, and very lazy setups.  As such I’ve mostly been inhabiting the salt fic corner of the fandom, since their out of character scripts and personalities are at the very least, intentional.

However, after reading many, many ‘Marinette-snaps’ regarding Lila’s lies, I wondered how I would have written Marinette handling the situation. For me, I think it would involve slightly less salt, more spite, and a whole lot of petty vengeance on Marinette’s part as their ‘Everyday Ladybug,’ without turning the class into an obsessive anti-Marinette-mob.  

This sort of ended up part fic/part summary, so apologies for that…

After two weeks of Lila’s lies, Marinette is near the end of her rope.  She rants to Alya about her frustration, and Alya isn’t much help, since she suspects that Marinette’s anger has more to do with Lila’s closeness to Adrian.  She is known to get jealous, and often takes things too seriously – remember her first impression on model boy?

Marinette insists this is different, and Alya tells her it doesn’t matter, because the class likes Lila. While Marinette might insist that Lila is fake, they haven’t seen any reason to disbelieve her.  Like it or not, the class - Alya included – believe everything that Lila has said.

She expects Marinette to growl or groan in frustration.  Possibly throwing up her hands and starting another thousand-words-in-thirty-seconds vent her way regarding Lila.  What she doesn’t see coming, is Marinette freezing in place, her eyes wide in revelation.  When she asks if Marinette is okay, the girl starts laughing, saying something about why she hadn’t realised it before.  She can’t possibly handle Lila, but their class can.

Before Alya can question this, Marinette shakes off her episode, and asks Alya if Lila has any allergies she knows about.  At the negative, she runs out the school gates, insisting there’s something she needs to do.

After lunch, Marinette goes up to Lila, and apologies for not welcoming her to the class properly.  As class rep, it’s her responsibility to make sure everyone’s needs are met, and that’s what she’s going to do from now on.  And as an apology, she went to her parents bakery and got an assortment of treats for the whole class.

Everyone is delighted Marinette has finally decided to bury the hatchet (although Alya and Adrian are very confused).  Lila doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, but she’s certainly not going to back off just because Marinette has suddenly realised she can’t win.  She says she’d love to try something, but she’s deathly allergic to certain ingredients.  In reality, just being this close to them is very dangerous for her, and could Marinette please take them away?

Everyone is horrified, and Marinette puts the tray outside, but Lila is surprised to see something other than anger and frustration in Marinette’s eyes when she returns.  

She apologies for not knowing about her allergies, because when she’d asked Alya, she hadn’t mentioned any.  Lila – realising Marinette had been smart and covered her gesture – has to frantically cover and admit she doesn’t like to mention it as she just takes allergy medication to recover.  

Marinette merely asks for a list of anything else Lila is allergic to – because she has other options from the bakery and would like to know for future reference.  Lila rattles off a handful of ingredients she knows are in baked goods, and Marinette makes a point to write down everything Lila says she’s allergic too ‘for future reference,’ before taking the pastries to be thrown out.

Lila doesn’t know what to make of it, and while everyone is kind of irritated at being offered baked goods only to have them removed because Marinette ‘should have asked Lila about her allergies,’ she goes to lunch feeling smug.  Right up until she goes to the cafeteria, and the lunch lady refuses to give her what she orders, ‘because of her allergies.’

Turns out, when Marinette went to throw out the treats, she did it by the cafeteria, and when they’d asked why she was throwing them out, she told them all about ‘poor Lila’ and her allergies.  She was so sweet to take their food without complaint, no doubt she had to use an epi-pen every day.  But now that they know, they’re going to make sure Lila has a perfectly safe meal.  Of course, the number of things Lila can eat with her ‘allergies’ means she’s currently stuck with little more than plain white rice.  She can’t counter it without admitting she lied, so she’s stuck with it for now.

Marinette is also getting smarter with Lila’s own words.  No matter how she spins things, Marinette manages to turn it back on her.  If Lila tries to trick Marinette with wordplay, she never insists ‘Lila said,’ but that it’s a classmate who told her – and then recites what they said verbatim.  She can’t insist Marinette misunderstood unless she reveals she was misleading the classmate first.

A week later, Marinette is acting as class rep at the front of the class, trying to organise a class trip that’ll happen soon.  Lila decides to use this to her advantage, and when Marinette suggests visiting a local restaurant near possible trip locations, Rose remembers that Lila ‘knows the owner’ of a much fancier 5 star restaurant very close to it.  Lila grins and gets ready to play her role, ready to twist words and make it so Marinette refuses to let them go, only for Marinette to reply first.

“I can’t just ask Lila to use one of her connections like that,” she insists. “It would terribly rude of me to just assume someone could do that without them offering first.”

“Oh, I’m certain it wouldn’t be any bother at all,” Lila insists, trying to get the conversation on track.  Marinette shakes her head, and repeats that she can’t possibly ask that of Lila – she doesn’t ask Alya to get her mother to host parties at the hotel, or get Adrian to ask his father for help with fashion connections, or get ask Alix to get them into the museum for free.  it’s rude to demand someone use their connections, especially if they haven’t offered.  However, if Lila wants to arrange it, that’s fine with Marinette.

Lila is completely thrown.  Marinette has to know she doesn’t have the connection, so why is she letting it happen?  The only possible theory she has is that Marinette wants to watch her fail, which is foolish.  Lila will have plenty of time to manipulate things so that Marinette is the one that ruined the reservation.

…Except Marinette then asks Ms Bustier to make sure everything is okay and confirm the reservation a week beforehand, since Marinette is far too young and unconnected to get a reservation in such a fancy place.  Lila can make the reservation and give it and the restaurant number to Ms Bustier to confirm.  Everyone agrees that this totally makes sense, and Lila realises it means Marinette could never be blamed for it failing.  She manages to save herself by spinning a lie about the restaurant being booked solid and while the boss would love to fit her in, they were just too big a number.

Everyone is disappointed, except Marinette, and Lila seizes on this, trying to make it seem like Marinette is happy they couldn’t go.  Marinette insists nothing could be further from the truth, she’d love to visit the restaurant, but she’s not surprised they couldn’t fit them in.  It’s such a busy restaurant, and even if Lila knows the boss, look at how busy Lila is most of the time. Successful places and people are always busy, and it was such short notice.  She’s sure Lila did her best, but Marinette has done commissions before, she knows how important scheduling is.

She looks at the members of Kitty Section and reminds them of when they couldn’t take a booking because they were already busy, and Chloe, clearly getting the game and going ‘enemy of my enemy,’ mentions that her Daddy once ended up not speaking to some Minister in Spain for months because the man demanded to see him last minute and he couldn’t make it because he was already seeing a baron from England that day.

The whole class starts talking in realisation, and before Lila can try to wrest back control, people are coming up and apologising for always asking about her contacts, especially since they always seem to back out at the last minute.  They hadn’t realised just how busy those circles were, and they’ll stop doing it now.  Within days, while people are still listening to her stories, any offers to ‘introduce’ people are met with a sincere, ‘thanks, but I know you’re very busy. That’s not necessary.’  

A few days later, it gets worse.  A few minutes before class starts, their maths and literature teachers appears to speak to Ms Bustier.  They then take Lila outside, and tell her that they’ve arranged personal tutoring for her during lunch breaks and after class to help her catch up with what she’s missed.

Lila insists that’s not necessary, the class is helping her, but they tell her that Max came to them explaining how busy Lila is with her humanitarian goals and charity work, and that it’s clearly been hard for her given how much time she’s had to spend with other classmates tutoring.  He thought it might be easier if she got one on one tutoring with experts – that way she could catch up even faster and not have to cut back on her work.

When she asks Max why he went to the teachers, he admits that Marinette gave him the idea.  Since Lila was away for so long, and the other kids have done her work so many times, she was worried Lila might never be able to catch up.  Wouldn’t it be better if a friend the teachers would listen to managed to arrange personal tutoring during times that wouldn’t impede her work?  Other students agreed that it made sense, so Max talked to them.

Max clearly expects her to be grateful, and Lila can’t find a way to explain she isn’t without making it clear she wanted other people to do the work and spend time with Adrian, so she’s stuck.  She’s ticked at losing so much personal time, but it’s only a day or two, and Max even made sure to get it on days outside of Adrian’s ‘tutoring’ so Lila can’t even say Marinette did it to make that stop.  She can live with this.

Except, later that week, just before PE, the gym teacher takes Lila aside, and she meets with a woman she’s never met.  She’s a physiotherapist, and a relation of one of the sport’s teams coaches.

She explains that Kim and Alix both came to said coach, worried that Lila’s many physical injuries are still causing problems despite being out of casts.  While Lila isn’t in any sports classes, she wants to help Lila as a favour to some of the school’s most athletic students (who she’s helped before at the coach’s request), and so they’ve arranged physiotherapy during two other lunch periods, gym class and twice after school, to help strengthen her after so many injuries.

Lila doesn’t even need to ask, Kim and Alix both readily admit Marinette is the one that mentioned it.  If Lila doesn’t even have the strength to carry books, how could she possibly plant trees in Bolivia?  Or hike life saving medicine 20 miles into the African desert?  This is what they can do to help her with her goals – and the coach is one of the best, she’s really doing them a favour by doing it for free – and Lila can’t get out of it again.  

(What they don’t mention is that the physiotherapist is getting paid.  She’s getting married and when Alix told Marinette, she promised to make her bridesmaid dresses if she could help out their ‘poor, injured classmate as a ‘thank you.’  As someone whose seen Marinette’s work, the therapist thought it was a bargain, and Alix and Kim don’t tell Lila because Marinette doesn’t want her to ‘feel guilty’ about it.  They’re just delighted Marinette is finally helping Lila like she does for the rest of them).

At this point, Lila’s free time during and after school is limited, and going out isn’t much fun as it used to be, because everybody is super aware of her ‘allergies’ now and won’t let her eat anything that could be a risk, and most people just want to do study groups to ‘help Lila get her free time back.’  At least Marinette can’t do anything else to her at this point.

Except, clearly, she underestimated the Baker’s daughter.  Because on Friday, she’s called to the Headmaster’s office to meet with a medical student from a nearby university.  Apparently, she’s decided to do a report regarding Ladybug’s lucky charm and it’s apparent healing properties that have kept the Akuma’s injury and body count at zero.  She’s learned that Lila’s Tinnitus was healed by the lucky charm, and as the only person to ever have a pre-existing condition healed, she’s desperate to study Lila.  

Lila, smelling yet more obligation she can’t get out of, tries to back out, only for the student to admit she’d planned to call Lila’s mother in order to explain everything before they got the agreement set up, and Lila – desperate to keep that from happening – finds herself agreeing.  She tries to hold off by saying she just doesn’t have the time at the moment…only for the Med student to ask if she can steal her away a few mornings.  She’ll even drive her to school, and the principal promises to give her exception for being late.  

And so Lila returns to class, somewhat horrified that she now has to properly study tinnitus to make sure she can lie to a trained medical professional well enough that she wont realise she’s faking former symptoms.

She demands to know why Marinette contacted the nurse, only to learn that it was Alya. The nurse had contacted her via the blog after seeing Lila’s interviews, and Alya had thought Ladybug’s ‘best friend’ would love to help other people with something like this.

(She doesn’t admit that while that’s true, she’d been hesitant to call without asking Lila first, but Marinette had reminded her that Lila doesn’t mind the spotlight, and Alya has said she’s supposedly helped with this sort of thing before.  She can always so no if she doesn’t want to, right?)

Even Rose pipes up that Lila had insisted it was her duty to help people, and Lila is forced to sit down and eat her words.  Her schedule, once lazy and easily managed, is now crammed with tutoring and unnecessary physiotherapy and now experimentation.  It’s a miracle she’s managed to keep it away from her mother so far, and the only time she sees her ‘friends’ is during class.  While Marinette has done nothing regarding the validity of her celebrity or charity lies, she no longer has the time to use them for her advantage.  The only way she can break free is to admit she lied, or work through everything to the point where she no longer needs the tutoring and therapy…and thus can no longer use the lie to get away with things.

“Well played, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she says to herself at the back of the room, glaring at the girl’s back.  “Well played indeed.”

—

After school, Adrian catches up with Marinette and asks how she did it considering she hates lying so much.  

Marinette admits that while she knows Lila is lying, nobody is willing to believe her.  So her only option is to act as if the lies are true, and treat Lila as if she’s being honest.  And since everyone else believes what she’s saying is true, they’re the ones she talked into helping.  She argued with the class that if Lila isn’t lying, then she needs their full support given all the terrible things that happened to her.  If that means reducing her diet, forcing her into long physiotherapy classes or talking teachers into giving her extra tutoring, so be it.  

She smiles and explains that, simply put?  If Lila isn’t going to tell the truth, Marinette is going to act as if she is.  Whether Lila likes it or not.

Adrian finds himself approving.  And just a little bit terrified of ever crossing his other Ladybug.  He’s suddenly very glad he’s on her side.

[happyandticklish]

Careless Intimacy

Notes: Me? Writing a soft fic for Declan instead of all the requests I have lined up? More likely than you might think. 

I’m sorry your honor, I simply love him. 

Summary: Declan never allowed anyone to enter his life—until Jordan came along. 

An invitation to dinner with the Lynches was a harrowing affair. Few came and even less were allowed to stay. One Lynch was manageable enough, considering you had the proper fore knowledge. Two at once and you walked the razor’s edge. Putting three in a room together was a death wish.

Yet Declan had asked Jordan to come. It was the first girl—the first person, really—that he had ever deigned to bring home. There had been many before Jordan, but Declan had never allowed himself to grow fond enough of any of them to breach that particular gap. There had been an attempt made to do the same with Jordan, but for some reason he had found it difficult not to give into that vague yet dangerous grin, the lingering touches that left him wanting more. Even after he discovered what she was, a dream, an imitation, he found it didn’t change anything. She was still Jordan to him, even if the name ended in Hennessy.

Now, pulling anxious fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth out the already perfect curls, he wondered why he had decided to put himself through this.

“It won’t be nice,” he warned her. “Ronan can be—”

“I know,” she responded with a wry grin. “I have met the boy before.”

He kept sneaking glances over at her where she sat on the bed. She wore a shirt she had cut holes and stitches into, making it hang dangerously high, and a skirt that cascaded in waves down her legs, parting in moments so that he could see the sudden flash of an ankle or a kneecap. He swallowed, forcing his gaze away.

“I don’t mean like that,” he corrected, needing her to understand that while Ronan was the cutting edge of a knife while alone, he became a bombshell when cornered. “We don’t exactly get along.”

“Family can be complicated.”

“No, family is complicated. Lynches are catastrophes waiting to happen.”

“And you are dramatic,” Jordan replied with a roll of her eyes, stretching her body from the bed in one fluid motion and coming to stand besides him. Together they stared at Declan’s reflection in the mirror. Two sets of eyes, one cautious, one amused. “Whatever it is, I’m certain I can handle it.”

Declan couldn’t find the same conviction in himself.

Surprisingly, Ronan had shown up. Or rather stayed. Every month or so Declan liked to arrange a family dinner between the three of them, and seeing as Ronan refused to come to Declan’s loft, it was usually held at the Barns. Despite this, Ronan often found excuses to get out of the dinners, or simply skipped with no explanation. Declan had failed to mention the fact that he would be bringing an added guest to him, worried it would make his constant absences worse.

Throwing open the door with a wild abandon that only he could accomplish, Ronan raised his eyebrows as he was met with the sight of them.

“Declan.” His gaze slitted over to her, calculating. In the background, Declan could hear the vague sounds of music, though the words and rhythm were unidentifiable from their position in the doorway. “Hennessy.”

“Jordan,” she corrected swiftly. “The double, or fake, if you will. I would ask that you make an effort to remember it. I might be here a while.”

Her tone implied here was more than just that dinner, that night.

“Jordan,” he adjusted with a grin. “I thought we weren’t supposed to bring guests.”

“We never specified,” Declan cut in.

“It was implied.”

“Didn’t you bring Adam to the last one?”

“Adam isn’t a guest.”

“Neither is Jordan.”

The two held eye contact for a tense moment. Jordan watched their dance, pride and amusement flickering over her expressions. For some reason, the sight made Declan’s heart skip a beat in his chest. He cleared his throat, unnecessarily, and moved past Ronan. Jordan followed, patting Ronan lightly on the shoulder as she went. Declan choked on a tiny laugh that he quickly swallowed down, remembering that this night was supposed to be civil.

Declan had not expected dinner to be prepared as Ronan rarely deigned to set foot in a kitchen, but he had clearly miscalculated for the involvement of Matthew. The kitchen itself was a tatterdemalion of ingredients and forgotten, dusted off baking tools. There was flour scattered over the counter, a bowl of poorly mixed batter sitting in the center of it. The oven was on, but whether or not anything was actually cooking inside of it was unclear. The music was coming from a radio in the kitchen, though radio was a vague term for what it was. It was one of Neill’s inventions, an old-timey radio that played the desired music of its user, regardless of genre, era, or existence. Right now, it shrieked something upbeat with a pounding bass that Matthew merrily danced around the kitchen to. His eyes widened when he noticed them, a wild and infectious grin taking over his features.

“Declan!” he exclaimed, moving to hug him but not entirely stopping his dance so that he half swung the other around when he did. He noticed Jordan with a smile. “Declan’s friend!”

“What are you… doing?” Declan asked slowly, disentangling himself and examining the scene.

“I’m making scones.”

“Scones?”

“Scones,” Matthew agreed.

“For dinner?”

“He wanted to help,” Ronan interjected, swinging around into the kitchen. He leaned on the counter, plucking a strawberry from the mess and swallowing the whole thing in one bite, his words coming out slightly muffled as he continued. “Is there a problem with that?”

Declan could feel the crease of exhaustion between his brows, but before he could speak, Jordan moved forward, her presence easy and light. “I love scones. Sometimes Hennessy would buy some for us when she was feeling charitable that night, or to be more specific, guilty. Do you mind if I help, Matthew?”

Matthew’s grin grew wider if that was possible. “Yeah! I’ve already started on a batch—it’s in the oven right now.”

Jordan leaned down cautiously, opening up the oven to reveal a tray of black, gooey clumps. “No offense Matthew, you seem nice, but these are shit. There is no way we could possibly ingest this into our bodies.”

Declan’s stomach dropped to the floor at her words, words that in a million years he would never have the confidence to reveal. He stepped forward to intervene, but Jordan was already continuing, taking the tray out with a towel in place of a missing hot pad. “Why don’t I help you make some new ones? Ronan here can help.”

Ronan made a disgusted noise at the idea, but Matthew merely shrugged, dumping the burnt tray into the trash. “Alright. I’m terrible at cooking anyway. So, where do we start?”

Declan watched as the three of them set into motion, bustling about the kitchen and grabbing out proper ingredients. Even Ronan helped clear the counters, with a moody reluctance. Slowly, a weight on his shoulders lifted and he allowed himself to let out a soft sigh of relief, grabbing out plates for the table.

The scones turned out halfway decent due to Jordan’s involvement; it had quickly became clear that she too possessed minimal knowledge of baking, but with the three of them combined everything had turned out alright. Sitting around civilly at a table eating scones had certainly not been the way Declan had predicted the night to turn out, but he couldn’t say he minded it.

As Ronan and Matthew chatted idly between the two of them, Jordan nudged his shoulder subtly. “You should smile,” she whispered, her lips quirking into one herself as she spoke the words. “I know you’re enjoying yourself, despite what you would like to think.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Declan recited, his face smooth except for the telltale twitch of his eyebrows. Deep down he knew what he was doing, but he refused to wise up to himself the game they were playing.

“Oh?” A quick tap against his leg that he recognized to be Jordan’s foot. “And what if I force you to give up this little charade of yours?”

Declan’s breath caught in his throat. Ronan glanced across the table at them, catching onto to their little whisper fest. “I’m trying to eat my dinner here, if you don’t mind. I’d prefer if you didn’t discuss your fucking plans at the table.”

Jordan snorted. Matthew’s eyes were wide with delight at the use of the word fuck at the dinner table. Declan kept a cool tone as he replied, “Last week I caught Adam with his tongue halfway down your throat at the supermarket, I hardly think I’m the one who needs to worry about decen—”

His words broke off into a strangled yelp as he felt Jordan’s foot once more, gently tracing a line up his leg. Her shot her a questioning glare and she simply shrugged, playing the innocent. Again her foot, dragging up and down, and quite suddenly Declan was aware of her play as his nerve endings sprung to life.

Declan was an amalgamation of secrets and Jordan had a tendency of discovering them. Last week had revealed one he had been hoping to hold on to for much, much longer, possibly forever—Declan Lynch was ticklish. Horridly ticklish. Unfairly ticklish. Ticklish in places that had no right to be so. And thusly as her foot traveled a lazy path along his calf and ankles, Declan found himself gripping his glass tighter, his lips screwing together into a repressed smile. He had hoped she had forgotten about this particular factoid of his person, seeing as she had left it alone for this long, but evidently she had simply been biding her time.

“Did the exorcism finally work?” Ronan asked, raising an eyebrow and reminding Declan that there were others still in the room with him. “Is the devil finally leaving your body for good?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Declan gritted out. “Choked on water.”

“Damn.”

“Damn,” Matthew repeated solemnly, wanting to be included.

“As I was saying,” Declan continued tensely. “I hardly think you have any room to talk with the way you and Adam have been going at it like r-rabbits for the past week.”

Ronan leaned back in his chair, taking a large bite of scone off of Matthew’s plate. “My house, my rules.”

“Our house.”

“But you don’t live in it,” Ronan pointed out.

Declan was finding it difficult to concentrate as Jordan continued to circle this one spot on his ankle. A giggle was trapped in his throat, and he clamped down on his next sentence in an effort to keep it there.

Fortunately, Jordan saved him from having to respond but in the process presented him with a whole new realm of problems. “You know, you guys are always talking about Adam, and yet I still don’t know the first thing about him. Would you care to enlighten me on the subject?”

This last sentence was directed at Ronan, who found himself caught between the oppurtunity to discuss Adam and the mortifying ideal of being nice to a stranger. Meanwhile, Declan was quickly realizing just how long this dinner might take and weighing that against his ability to hold in his reactions. It wasn’t difficult to see he was fighting a losing battle.

He managed to last another couple minutes after Ronan gave in, the urge to brag about his boyfriend ultimately too strong to resist. Declan remained silent throughout the conversation, his fingers tapping out an anxious melody against the table as he fought to avoid the sensations. It was when Jordan swept a teasing touch up the underside of his shin suddenly that his resistance finally broke.

“Jordan,” he said firmly, launching suddenly up from the table and interrupting whatever Ronan had been about to say, a fact the other seemed less than pleased with. Even now, with annoyance ringing through his words, Declan still felt a strange thrill at saying her name. “I need to discuss something with you in the other room.”

The sparkle in her eyes said she knew exactly what he was doing. “Something you can’t say here at the table?”

He fixed her with a look. 

She smirked. 

He sighed and stalked from the room, knowing, in the end, that she would follow him. 

She did.

“Get a room,” Ronan scoffed as they left.

Matthew gasped as he glanced down at his plate. “You’ve been stealing my scones!”

Meanwhile, Declan frowned down at Jordan as she pressed him against the wall the minute the two had retired upstairs. They had quickly found their way to a bedroom, though whose it was Declan couldn’t be certain. “That was entirely uncalled for.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied, hands already moving to his sides where they remained curled preemptively.

“Jordan,” he warned, his lips tugging up at the corners as he tensed under her touch. “Please.”

“Is the great Declan Lynch begging?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, but then her fingers dug in with a light but vicious glee and his held-in laughter escaped him all at once in a startled burst. His legs weakened as he doubled up against her attack, his hands circling her wrists but doing little to stop her.

“W-Wahahait!” he protested, his words tripping over laughter. “Thihis ihihis—”

“Begging and giggling?” she exclaimed, not even attempting to hide the delight in her voice. “And I was certain this night couldn’t get any better.”

“Johohordan!”

“Declan,” she mocked teasingly.

His name spoken between those lips felt like a fatal misstep on the stairs, his stomach dropping and rising quickly in succession. A flush scattered across his cheeks, tinging the tips of his ears pink. He wasn’t used to feeling like this. He wasn’t supposed to lose control like this. It wasn’t supposed to feel like waves crashing inside him when he looked at her. It wasn’t supposed to be wild, uncontrolled laughter and fingers that wrenched any power he might have had away from him.

Despite this, as she led him to the bed, the two crashing gracelessly into it, he found he didn’t really mind the loss. There was something freeing about the sensation, unbearable and euphoric all at the same time—he wanted to hold onto that feeling for as long as he could. And so, despite the fact that he could stop her at any time, he fisted his hands in the sheets, closing his eyes and giving himself over to the moment. It was delightfully vulnerable and he wouldn’t have exchanged it for anything else in the world.

“Ohohoho mihihi gohohod!” he gasped, squirming as her fingers danced a waltz along his ribs. He was giggling, he realized, the sounds escaping him suddenly and not of his own volition. “Ihihit, ahaha—”

“Tickles?” she guessed.

“Y-Yeheheah!”

“That’s kind of the point here.” Her touch traveled carelessly along his torso which twitched and jerked helplessly underneath her. “You know, I’ve decided I like seeing you like this. We’ll have to do this more in the future.”

Declan huffed indignantly, but the sound was soon lost to a sudden yelp as her nails found their way to his hips, protected only by the thin dress shirt he had worn to the dinner. He lurched forward, grasping her wrists and pulling them away.

“No,” he said, his words breathless with a nervous smile. “Not there.”

Jordan appeared unbothered by her trapped hands, giving him a knowing look. “Is that a bad spot, then?”

“Possibly.”

“Then I think there is exactly where we need to explore.”

“Why do you insist on tormenting me in these ways?” he moaned, his words light as he dropped his forehead against hers. She leaned in, accepting the gesture and tilting her neck up to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Was that a no?” she whispered afterwards, her words a dare left hanging in the air. Declan had refused many a dare in the past, and prided himself on resisting their temptation. He knew if he wanted to, he could call this all off and go back to dinner once more.

But Declan was feeling reckless that night.

Moments later, laughter roared from his lips as he thrashed on the bed, wanting to crawl out of his own skin as thumbs pressed deviously into the divot of his hips. His hands fisted in his hair, stopping him from doing anything to prevent it. He didn’t protest for he had long since passed the ability for words. He had never needed anything to stop as bad as he did then, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to end it yet, not now, not when electricity soared in his veins. 

They stayed like that for a while, just fingers on skin and laughter spilling helplessly from his lips in that forgotten bedroom. Dinner had quickly been forgotten by the both of them. Eventually Declan would return downstairs, hair disheveled and face flushed with Jordan at his side, as he fought for some explanation for their absence. Yet for now, he was content to lose himself to the moment and the intolerable sensations coursing throughout him.

Declan couldn’t imagine how he had ever thought this night would end badly.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//baking adoration. yamaguchi tadashi//

Request: uh hi if it’s not too much, i was wondering if i could request an imagine where yamaguchi and the reader bake something and it either turns out really good or like an absolute mess 😭 thank you 🥺 

Warnings:uncontrollable cuteness 🥺

Word Count: 1.3K

Notes: dkfeskhes i have to make a yamaguchi header so i’ll do that when i wake up because it’s like??? 3 am? But fluffy yams ;-;

“Is that the last batch?”  Yamaguchi asks from where he sits at the kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him as he scours the internet for the perfect icing recipe to finish your delectable creations.

You simply nod, laying the baking tray on the stove top to cool, listening to the high-pitched beep as you turn the oven off.  Your boyfriend jumps slightly in his seat as your hands come to rest on his shoulders, peering at the screen in front of him.  School had pulled you both in a thousand different directions, your schedules being packed even heavier than usual as your final university semester loomed over your heads.  It was obvious in his gentle face just how much these past few weeks had taken a toll on him.  His normal bright attitude had been replaced with heavy sighs, frustrated groans, and the sound of the coffee pot constantly brewing another cup.  Dark shadows had begun to form under his eyes from long hours pouring over his notes on the living room sofa.

Tadashi’s muscles relaxed back into your touch, finding a certain sense of ease in the way your fingers trailed up and down his arms.  You weren’t in much better shape yourself.  A full schedule of difficult classes had you pretty much living at the table in attempts to finish all of your school work.  But, in the end, it was always you who packed up first, insisting that health was more important than a grade.  You would pull him from the couch, despite his objections of, “Just one more hour” and hand in hand, the two of you would collapse on your shared bed, heavy eyelids finding their purchase as soon as heads hit pillows.

“Did you find an icing recipe yet?” you ask.

He nods, clicking on a tab in his browser.  “This one seems pretty easy and I think we have everything.  It’s just powdered sugar, milk, butter, and vanilla.  It has pretty good reviews, except for this one from Linda.  She says that the vanilla is too strong and that almond extract would be better,” he laughs, twisting slightly in his chair so he can look at you.

“Well, I hate to break it to Linda, but we don’t have any almond extract, so we’re going to use vanilla.  Should we get it started now while the cookies cool?”

Yamaguchi nods again, slowly pulling himself from his chair.  Despite the small yawn that passes his lips, there is no place that he’d rather be right now.  It had been so long since the two of you had done something together.  Sure, it wasn’t as over-the-top as some of your past date-days, but sitting in the kitchen with you all day, the smell of sugar cookies wafting through the air as you both talk endlessly about anything, everything, and nothing at all was the best way that he could think to spend his Saturday.  Both of you had decided to push your work off for awhile, taking the day to rest and spend some much needed time with the other.  School was to be placed on the back burner for just a few hours and baking cookies was the only thing that mattered to both of you right now.

His hands find a natural place on your waist while you pull a mixing bowl from a cabinet.  The pads of his fingers tickle gently as they push themselves under the fabric of your shirt, a brief moment of contact as he draws soft little shapes against your sides.  Tadashi rests his head on your shoulder, a lazy smile smoothing over his features as your hand finds a place in his hair, pushing it away from his face, tangling your fingers through the thick brown strands.  

“You’re so pretty.”  His nose presses gently against your cheek, a silent form of ‘I love you’ that had been instilled into your relationship a long time ago, something that, no matter how much time passed, never left and was never forgotten.  

“Thank you, ‘dashi,” you whisper, turning in his arms to take his face between your hands.

“You are, and always will be, the most beautiful person that I have ever laid eyes on,” he states, warm eyes sinking into a gaze that no master painter could ever replicate.  “I feel like I haven’t had the time to say it lately, but you really are my entire world.”

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks, letting the smile that washed over you say every word that you could ever need to say.  Every compliment and word of endearment was all right there and as he stared down into your face, it was like he could hear everything that you had wanted to tell him.  The most beautiful ‘I love you’s and all of those ‘I can’t wait to spend my life with you’s swam so elegantly in your eyes.  

“I would bring you to every single star in the galaxy if it would make you happy.  I would swim across the widest oceans just to tell you how in love with you I am.  If you would smile for the rest of your life the same way you were smiling right now, I would pick every single daisy from the ground just to give to you.  I know that we haven’t exactly had the most time to spend together lately, but I just need you to know that through all of it, I never stopped thinking about you and how I can’t wait to see what our future holds for us.  I want to bake more cookies with you and let you on me while we watch Netflix.  I want to help you paint your nails until I’m good at it and I want to help you decide what necklace looks best with your outfit for the day.  And I can do all of that now, but I want you to always have something to remember just how much I love you, okay?”

Your boyfriend pulls away from your grasp to start searching for something in his backpack.  “I- I didn’t know your ring size, but for the time being, I hope you’ll take this instead,” he says, coming back towards you, something clutched tightly in his hands.  “I know promise rings are a little more classic, but I thought you might like this too.  Hold out your hand.”

You do as he says and hold your hand out towards him, watching the slight quiver course through you.  When you had suggested baking cookies, this is not at all how you imagined this going, but this new confidence that came over Yamaguchi was almost too beautiful to pass up.  There had been a steady determination in his gaze, but the gentleness of his words had kept him grounded to his truth.  

“There,” he whispers, pulling his hands away from you, a delicate bracelet was clasped around your wrist.  “It’s a promise, okay?  One day when we’re older, and when I know your ring size, I’m going to replace that with a real diamond and we’re going to replace your last name with Yamaguchi.  And instead of trying to bake cookies, we’ll be trying to decide what kind of cake we want to have at our wedding.  I promise that I’m going to do everything that I can to make you happy, okay?”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone as perfect as you,” you say, that smile that he loved so much never leaving your face.  “You’re going to be such a good husband to me someday.”

Tadashi’s lips press sweetly against your temple.  “I can’t wait for that day, my love.”