#it's been literally so long since I've had a good day of sleep 😭😭

[iceunhie]

will i get this degree or will this degree get me

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 10 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: wrote this in between study breaks, I’m totally spent 😭😭

W/C: 3.523

part nine

"So, uh- do you have any allergies?"

I mutter awkwardly, standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes on Jude as he sits across from me at the kitchen island.

He folds his arms across his chest, raising his head to look over at me.

"Are you planning something?" He eyes me suspiciously, causing a tired sigh to leave my mouth.

"Shut up- answer the question.." I raise my wooden spoon, threatening him.

"No, I don't have any allergies. Is that good enough?" He replies, Brum accent making him sound even more defensive.

"Ungrateful ass.." I mutter, turning around and starting to work on breakfast.

I had slept horribly after last night’s events. I'd reckon- maybe, six hours in total. It was our day off- thankfully, but that didn't mean that I trusted Jude to rummage through my house on his own while I rotted away in bed.

My dad had called earlier, wanting to explain the situation to me clearly without leaving any important details out.

Apparently, last night Jude's place was broken into again. This time, he was at home to actually witness it happen. I'm not sure what transpired between the intruder and Jude. Since, my dad had told me it would be too invasive for me to know.

From what I knew, it was the same person as last time- or how many damn times this had happened. This case had been keeping my dad busy for months now, and it only found a way to piss me off even more.

Either Jude had the shittiest security, or- did he even have security?

"Can't believe I'm cooking for you.." I mutter, hearing the drag of his house slippers against the floor as he walks up to me.

"What are you making?"

I move away, so he doesn't touch me, giving him a side eye as I crack four eggs in a pan.

"Eggs.." I say, moving back when oil splashes up.

"Can you cook?" He asks, eyes moving in between the stove and my face.

"Kind of.." I say, hesitating with my reply.

I knew how to cook the basics. Say, your pastas and soups. Though, I like to think I'm improving every time auntie Carmen comes over to show me how to cook another delicious meal.

"How do you like your eggs?" I ask, raising my head to look up at him. He has a confused expression on his face and his gaze is fixed on me.

Fuck, did that sound wrong?

"More runny or cooked?" I ask, grimacing to myself as I sprinkle salt and pepper into the pan.

"You've cooked it- enough.."

"Oh, okay.." I mentally curse at how stupid I sound, looking away from him.

I quickly plate it up for him, not forgetting the avocado and barely toasted pieces of bread.

Well, too bad for him.

We eat our breakfast without speaking to each other. I can only hear the crunch of my bread and clatter of the cutlery against the plates.

I look up at him when I've cleared my plate, wiping crumbs from the corners of my mouth.

"How long are you staying?"

"Are you trying to kick me out already?"

I give him a look, raising my brows as if to tell him he already knows my answer.

"I don't know- depends on the situation.." He says, rubbing his hands against his gray sweatpants.

I sigh, rubbing my temples in irritation.

"Where's your mom anyway?" I ask, remembering that they literally lived together.

"I made her go back to England for my brother’s games. She's always spending more time with me- felt bad for the lad.." He answers, looking away.

"Last night?" I ask, raising my voice in surprise.

"No, during international break. I wasn't playing remember.."

"Oh- that's good, I guess.." I trail off, realizing we're going to be home alone for a while.

Silence falls in between us, and I begin picking at the loose threads of my old pajama top. It was old, but so comfy to sleep in.

"Okay, uh- let's clean up, and I'll give you a quick tour of the place." I jump up from my seat, grabbing my plate off the table, and walk over to the sink.

I look back when he doesn't get up. I raise a brow, sending him a questioning look.

"What are you doing? Clean up.." I say, waving him over. I watch him grab his plate and cutlery- a comical sight that had me struggling to keep my composure.

He places the plate in front of me, looking at me like he's expecting me to do something.

I step back, folding my arms.

Woah, he looked clueless.

"Do you even know how to do- like the dishes or laundry?" I ask, eyeing him up and down.

"Not really.."

"You're what? Twenty and don't know how to do your own laundry?" I pull a horrified face.

"Do you think it's okay to freeload?" I question, immediately grabbing his wrist to drag him upstairs to the laundry room.

Did he think this was a five-star hotel or something?

"I can't believe I have to drive you there. Why don't you have a license?" I whine, walking into the bathroom and seeing him fix his hair. The array of skincare, haircare and bodycare all on the counter in front of him.

Why did I think that he only used a block of soap and aftershave?

He turns away from the mirror, taking a step closer to me as I passive aggressively grab my toothbrush.

"Why wouldn't you want to drive me?" He questions, his voice full of mockery.

I wet my toothbrush and the blob of toothpaste, starting to brush my teeth as I look up at him.

"Do you know how crazy it looks for a staff member to arrive with a player in her car?"

I mumble, probably half audible, as I spit foam into the sink.

He grimaces at me, and I watch him take a step away from me via the mirror.

"Oh, you're dramatic.." I mumble, running the brush over my teeth again.

"Everyone thinks we're together anyway- does it even matter at this point?"

I freeze, turning to him with white foam dripping down the corner of my mouth.

"That's even worse.." I shake my head, giving him a once-over before starting to rinse my mouth.

"Pre-match meal is at...?" I question, waiting for him to finish the sentence while I dry my hands and mouth.

"Half past two." He replies, making me nod.

"Okay- give me an hour.." I say, quickly running to my room to change and get ready.

It was match day against Granada. Thankfully, after this we got some more days off.

We had to get to the training center early, mainly due the fact that I had become Jude’s private driver.

When my father told me I had to drive him around, I almost fell to my knees in sheer despair, not believing the torture I had to go through.

I didn’t even get anything in return, well, maybe I’d bug my dad for another pretty handbag- or two.

Pre-match meals are usually about three to four hours before the match. Normally, I could arrive very late and still manage to snatch a nice plate, but because of Jude - that wasn't possible today, and probably until he’s moved out of my place.

y/n's only half-way through her 'getting ready' playlist when she hears multiple loud knocks on her bedroom door.

"What?! Stop banging on my door! You don't even pay rent!" She shouts over the music, watching the door handle twist.

She turns away from her vanity mirror, makeup brush in her hand, as she sees Jude walk into her room.

"Who invited you in?" She questions, gasping when he goes to sit on her nicely made bed, wrinkling the fabric.

"Me, you’re taking so-” He begins, but he's immediately cut off when she shouts.

"Wait- shut up.."

She says, turning away to sing along with the song currently playing from her phone.

"We do the things but we know it's wrong

All on my skin, you all in my palm

I sent you a envelope, came with a poem

You possess venom that came with a charm

You get the good out me when I perform

I know the bad in you, that's what I want

And you a baddie, you turnin' me on."

Seems like she forgets he's even in her room, singing along to the Future verse while she dots a good amount of blush on the apples of her cheek.

He sighs loudly, continuing to stare at her from behind. She doesn’t notice at all, now way too invested into getting ready while listening to her favorite songs.

Jude runs a frustrated hand over his face, taking in the way she sings along with the all-too-familiar-sounding song lyrics, hoping she can hurry up soon.

"Do I have to take you home too?" I ask, getting up from the comfy chair I'm in. Following Jude towards the dressing room. Relieved after a 2-0 win against Granada.

The sound of his cleats hitting the floor is loud, and I stop right at the entrance of the dressing room when he stops in his tracks.

"I can call a taxi, probably.."

I search his face for any annoyance or anger, but don't see anything like it. Instead, in a strangely familiar way- his eyes are wide and expressive. He looks more unsure and uncomfortable than I've ever seen him.

"It's fine- we're going to the same house anyway.." I whisper, dismissing his words with a wave. 

"I have to go back to the training center though.. Can you stand tagging along with me?" I question, raising my brows in anticipation.

"Yeah, I'll just get freshened up really quick.." He says, stepping inside and closing the door since he was the last player to enter.

After saying bye to everyone, I sneakily walk up to my car. Almost jumping out of my skin when I see Jude already standing at the passenger door.

"What are you- get in.." I sigh, unlocking the door and stepping in.

The ride over to the training center is awkward and quiet, to say the least. I'm not in the mood to look through my playlist- and I'm sure he isn't either, by the way he's busy scrolling on his phone.

I park my car in my designated spot in the staff parking lot, looking over at him.

"Do you want to stay in the car?" I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt, and glancing at him.

"No, I'll come with you.." He replies, stepping out of the passenger’s seat and following me inside.

"I need to leave this bag here.." I inform, locking the car as the both of us walk inside the center.

He doesn't reply, not that it's necessary.

I walk up to the office, still hearing Jude walk right behind me.

"You're following me like a lost puppy.." I mutter, unlocking the door of the room I'm supposed to leave the equipment in.

"Okay, damn, I'll be downstairs.." He sneers, turning away and leaving immediately.

I shrug to myself when he leaves, finishing my business before going down as well.

I shove my keys into my bag, swinging it on my shoulder, then go looking around for Jude.

I enter the meeting room he and other players would hang out in, but don't see him. Stepping out, I look up from the door, walking in and out of the other meeting rooms.

"Where the fuck are you?" I mutter, reaching for my phone to call him, only to remember that I don't even have his phone number.

"Looking for something?"

I almost scream out loud when I hear a deep voice behind me. I turn, trying to not look like the person scared the crap out of me.

Oh, the creepy coworker. How fun.

"No, just dropped off some equipment upstairs.." I quickly say, rubbing my hand against my jeans.

I watch his eyes flicker to the keycard around my neck, which I forgot to take off.

"Coming from Bernabéu, y/n?"

Why did he know my name?

"Yeah, busy day.."

He stares at me, not saying anything else. I mentally hype myself up to say something, maybe to learn more about him.

"What's your name? We've seen each other around, but I don't know your name.” I say, shifting nervously as his blue eyes peer into mine.

"Andrés, fitness department. I'm new.." He says, sticking out a ghostly hand for me to shake.

"Right, nice to meet you. I would introduce myself too, but you seem to know already. How come?" His grip is tight, so I tighten it even more.

Give me a rough handshake, and I’ll break your hand out of pettiness.

"Everyone here knows you.." He replies, there is a harsh, but breathiness to his voice and it causes chills to run down my spine.

I clear my throat, realizing he still hasn't let go of my hand.

"Because of my father, yeah.." I fake a chuckle, trying to pull my hand back.

"No, not because of mister l/n.." My breath hitches audibly at his tone, and I try to snatch my hand back even more forcefully.

He doesn't even flinch, continuing to stare down at me.

"y/n, here you are.." I hear a familiar voice say, breaking out of this weird fucking trance.

My head snaps up, my eyes going wide, when I see Jude stepping out of the meeting room I had not checked out yet.

I use the opportunity to snatch my hand away from Andrés, rubbing my hand to fix my blood flow.

I watch Jude give him a look, death stare imminent when he walks up to us.

"Andrés? What are you doing here, it's late." He says, for some reason, slower than I have ever heard him speak.

"Work, busy.." He answers, trying to speak English with a broken Spanish accent.

Oh, he didn't speak English?

I watch a strange interaction between them, a jumble of Spanish and English. I try my best to understand, but it seems like both men throw in some gibberish too.

Finally, when they're done with their simlish, I'm grabbed by my hand, dragged away by Jude.

"What the hell is his problem?" I exclaim, still feeling my hand ache from the pressure.

"He's been fuckin' weird, don’t like him..” He mutters, walking ahead of me while still dragging me along.

I struggle to catch up with his long strides, his warm palm pressing into mine as he looks back at me.

"You okay?" He questions, stopping abruptly, causing me to smash my face against his arm.

"Ow- not anymore.." I mutter, rubbing my nose in agony with my free hand.

"Oh- shit, sorry.." He spits, his hand still on mine. I remove my hand from my face, raising my chin to look up at him.

"Am I bleeding?" A dramatic question, but you never knew with his rock-hard, muscular- arms..

I blink up at him, feeling his hand come up to my chin. He pinches my face, making me move my head.

"No, no blood- I think.." He breathes out, eyes roaming around my face to check for any blood.

I make sudden, close eye contact with him. His brown eyes catching mine, breath fanning my face.

We stare at each other for a moment. His hand still clearly on mine while he cups my face to look at me.

I realize the position we're in and step back. I eye our intertwined hands, looking back up at him as if to tell him to let go.

He clears his throat, dropping my hand like it's hot, and stepping back.

I decide to pretend I don't give a fuck. Ignoring the drumming of my heart, and grab my car key out of my bag.

"Get in.."

"Smash.." I say, maybe for the 10th time this hour.

"Oh my days, can you stop saying that?" Jude exclaims, a bewildered expression on his face as he looks over at me.

"Can't, it's Michael B. Jordan, and you want me to sit still?" I ask, earning a grunt from him.

"You're unbelievable.."

I ignore him, continuing to drool over the screen while I shove popcorn into my mouth.

"What are you going to do? You're off for four days.." I ask, sprawled out on the couch, in front of the TV.

"I have physical therapy every day, can't leave the city.." He complains, sitting on the couch across from me.

"Oh, how inconvenient- wait, who's driving you?.."

"Don't you worry, I've got someone driving me.." He sneers, folding his arms.

I roll my eyes, going back to watch the movie on the screen.

A hot man could make a boring movie so incredibly interesting.

"I'm not home tomorrow. Will you survive being home alone for the rest of your day?" I question, flickering my eyes back to him.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking my last exam, library helps me focus better.." I stuff another handful of popcorn into my mouth.

"Last one?"

"Yeah, I need to go revise a little." I sit up, pausing the movie, and getting up from the couch.

"Have it.." I shove the bowl of popcorn into his hands, walking up the stairs to my room. Ready for this exam to be over already.

“What the fuck was that.." I whisper to myself, hitting my head on my steering wheel repeatedly. I had long driven home from the library, not caring to step out of the car, parked in the driveway.

I had studied hours on end, but when I was presented with the questions, my brain practically short circuited, causing me to blank out so much information I needed to know.

I'm on the verge of tears at this point. Normally, after the last exam of the semester, I'd be jumping from joy, but the way this exam had gone- I wanted to cry buckets of tears.

I sniffle, wiping my nose with my sleeve. Not caring about the foundation stain left on it, and grab my bag from the backseat. I get out of my car, unlocking the front door of my house quickly.

I expect the house to be quiet, but instead I hear loud music. Old 80s songs, solely about love. Music only I knew auntie Carmen loved listening to while cooking.

I drop my bag at the front door, blinking repeatedly to hide the tears in my eyes. I shrug my jacket off, the December cold had come in full force. Though, to me, nothing was worse than winter in London anyway.

"Harina, say it, young man.." I hear auntie Carmen say in Spanish, a voice following behind her.

"Harina? Harina.." A broken accented voice says. I raise my brows, my tears and worries in the back of my mind now.

Curiosity takes over, and I immediately walk towards the kitchen, where the noises are coming from.

I'm greeted by the sight of auntie Carmen and Jude standing next to each other. Both wearing aprons as they are kneading dough on the kitchen island. Flour sprinkled on the marble as I hear Jude repeat random Spanish words, often getting corrected by my auntie.

She didn't even speak a lick of English. How did they even communicate?

I clear my throat, taking their attention away from the slabs of dough on the counter.

"Oh- you're home.." She smiles warmly at me, beckoning me over with a flour-covered hand.

"What's this?" I ask, stepping closer and speaking in Spanish.

"We're making pizza from scratch, sweetie." She says, giving me a kiss on my cheek.

"With him?" I point to Jude, watching him pound the dough with unnecessary aggression.

"What do you mean? Jude is so good at this, look at him go..” She smiles, saying his name with the utmost affection. He looks up confused, but I ignore him further.

What the hell did he do to make her like him already?

"Your boyfriend is a better cook than you already..”

I pull a horrified face, eyes going wide as my arms fall to my sides. I glance at Jude, noticing that he hadn’t even flinched at the words.

Thankfully, his Spanish classes weren’t so advanced yet…

I lean in close to her, whispering, well whisper-shouting.

“He’s not my boyfriend..” I say, pulling a face. I watch the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles.

“I know, I’m just joking. Your dad called me about this entire situation already..”

“Why would you say that, then?”

“He’s handsome, isn’t he..” She says out loud, making me facepalm.

First, he steals my dad’s time, then my house, and now my auntie?

I look at him, watching him knead the dough, a smirk forming on his face.

I want to strangle him right here and now..

It’s only been a couple days, and this was too much for me already.

[halsteadlover]

Under Fire

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Paramedic!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hey! Could you write an imagine where the reader is a paramedic and one day a person starts shooting at the ambo and Jay is called? Then he would be worried when he sees the reader there.

• Warnings: mention of sex, blood, gunshot, bad writing (yes it’s gonna be a warning from now on).

• Word count: 4289.

• A/N: this is by far one of the ugliest fics ever and honestly I’m even ashamed I posted it. It didn’t turn the way I wanted but I was too lazy and had no time to write it all again so here it is 💀 Sorry for the ppl who expected a good worried!Jay fic 😭 I’m sorry for any mistake too and of course I know all the ‘medical’ staff was probably inaccurate so pls bear with me lol

“Baby, breakfast is ready!”.

Jay's voice muffled to your ears from the kitchen as you hurriedly got ready for work, super late. You tied your hair into a ponytail, not wanting to waste any more time trying to fix it before running to the kitchen where Jay had just set breakfast on the table.

“I'm late honey I can't eat,” you said frantically, leaning closer to him and kissing him on the lips before stealing a waffle which you popped into your mouth and began to eat as you looked for your car keys.

“Babe you can't go to work without having breakfast,” Jay retorted as he drank his cup of coffee and watched you amused.

“Yeah? And whose fault is it that I’m late?” you asked ironically “Have you seen my keys baby? Damn it… I can't find them anywhere.”

Jay chuckled and there was no need to say he found them as soon as he started to search for them. He was about to hand them to you but suddenly put his hands behind his back. “I want a kiss first.”

You giggled like a little girl and placed your free hand on his face, kissing him passionately, as if it was the first time you'd seen him in ages. No matter how much time passed, Jay managed to have on you the same effect as the first day, and for a moment, lost in your senses, you almost forgot you had to run away to work.

“Mmmh,” he murmured into the kiss, intensifying it as his arm went around your waist, pressing your body further against his.

“Stop…” you muttered between kisses as you giggled “No,” one kiss “That’s not…” another kiss “Fair…” and yet another one. “You’ve already made me late this morning.”

“Baby it's not my fault you're so stunning. You know I can't keep my hands to myself,” he kept kissing you, taking the opportunity to shamelessly squeeze your ass. “You were naked in our bed, you really expected me not to fuck the shit out of you?”.

“Stop, you're making me hot again,” you placed your hands on his chest to push him away, receiving a frown from him. In a moment of distraction you grabbed the keys from his hand and took your bag, before giving him one last sweet kiss and go to the door “See you tonight baby, I love you. Be careful okay?”.

“I love you too princess, text me when you can and be careful too. Don't you even dare come back with even a scratch!”.

But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way we want them to.

Your morning was going well, you were on shift with Sylvie who wasted no time teasing you, between calls, about being late that morning.

“If you're jealous because I'm having hot sex and you're not, just say it blondie,” you retorted laughing, getting from your co-worker a little slap on the back of your head as she kept her eyes on the road while driving the ambo.

“You’re really a bitch you know that? Of course I'm jealous! Do you know how long it's been since I've been with someone? I don't even know what a penis looks like anymore.”

You giggled. “If after every shift you literally fly home to go to sleep, don't complain if you can't find anyone. You need to go out Sylvie, Molly's is always crowded, you'll find someone who can't wait to rail you.”

She burst out laughing. “Rail me? Where did this come from?”.

“I mean… You know… I didn't know the meaning of these words before I met my boyfriend…” you answered and Sylvie let out a fake gag while you dreamily recalled your intense sexual life with Jay.

“You are disgusting,” the blonde replied even though she laughed. Before she could add anything though, there was a call of a shooting with victim and the joyful and playful air disappeared almost instantly.

You were about to text Jay, updating him on the progress of your shift but you mentally cursed as you noticed your cell phone was dead and that’s when you remembered you didn't charge it last night.

You put it back in your pocket, mental noting you’d charge it as soon as you got back to the station.

When you and Sylvie arrived with sirens blaring at the scene where the shooting had taken place, you couldn't help but notice the amount of people there looking on curiously and trying to figure out what was going on. That neighborhood was not the most idyllic and safe, given the unfortunate presence of criminals and drug addicts, and you mentally prayed you could finish as soon as possible since you didn't feel at all calm in that place.

A man in his fifties came running towards you, cell phone in hand and a terrified expression on his face.

“What happened sir? Where’s the victim?” Sylvie asked as you fetched the first aid kit bags.

“This way. There's been a shooting… There's a young man… I don't know if he's still alive.”

The man pointed to a person lying on the ground, immersed in his own blood and at a rough guess he didn't seem to be more than 16 years old. He was just a little boy.

“We'll take care of it from now sir. Thank you for calling us. Now go back in your house and stay safe,” you said and he nodded before storming off and locking himself inside his house along with his family.

You put on your gloves and leaned over the victim. You checked his carotid pulse and breathing. “He’s breathing and there is still a pulse. But it's too weak.”

Sylvie lifted the victim's shirt, revealing the shotgun at stomach level, and spun him on his side for a moment. “There is an exit wound.”

“I'm putting an IV,” you stated before taking the necessary kit while Sylvie controlled the bleeding by dabbing the wound with clean gauze which was soaked in blood in no time. After placing the tourniquet, it was difficult to find an accessible vein due to the copious blood loss but eventually you succeeded.

As you continued to do everything in your power to keep the still unconscious patient alive, you didn't realize all passers-by had left and that a suspicious car was approaching until the sound of a shot broke the silence.

Your heart stopped for an instant.

It all happened so fast and in just few seconds that you didn't even realize what was happening.

It was all so fast but so slow at the same time.

Everything seemed to stop around you, the world started spinning fast and slow at the same time which you didn't even believe was possible. The seconds seemed to have turned into minutes, hours, and in you kept wondering when it would end.

You and Sylvie threw yourselves to cover the victim, but not before a bullet went through your arm causing you to scream in pain. “Fuck!” you exclaimed as an excruciating pain made you bend to the ground for an instant.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” exclaimed Sylvie, rushing towards you regardless of the danger. Your hand covered your wound from where blood gushed and you tried to take a few breaths to try to regain control of yourself. You hadn't been shot at before by now, but damn it hurt like hell.

“I'm fine,” you murmured and when you opened your eyes you saw a woman lying on the ground not far from you. “Shit… Sylvie, go to that woman…”

Sylvie glanced between you and the poor woman lying on the asphalt, not sure what to do. “I am fine. Go! I'll take care of it here!”.

She nodded and grabbed a first aid bag before running to the woman, leaving you with the still unconscious victim. You checked him to make sure he wasn't hit and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw he wasn't.

You called for help on your radio before getting up with no small effort, dragging the victim behind a car, thus keeping you sheltered.

Your heart was pounding and you didn't know what to do, the fear they'd come back to kill you paralyzed you. You leaned against the car, bringing your eyes to the wound on your arm and noticing you were losing more blood than you would’ve expected.

“Shit,” you winched in pain even if the adrenaline rushed through your veins. You decided not to think about it and just treat the patient until help arrived, after all you weren't going to die from a shot in an arm.

You got up from the car and approached the patient, noticing the movement of his chest was no longer regular and that he was struggling to breathe. You took your stethoscope and listened to his chest, hearing crackles and a muffled sound in the right lung.

“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, taking deep breaths as the pain became more intense and trying to focus solely on the victim and not on the excruciating pain you were feeling. The victim had a pneumothorax and you knew if you didn't treat it right away, you ran the risk of losing him before help even arrived.

You took all the kit needed to aspirate the air from his lung but your hand was shaking too much to be able to proceed. “Come on. You can do it,” you kept telling yourself and breathing deeply. With no little effort you managed to make a small incision and insert the small catheter to allow the air to escape. You listened to his lungs again after a bit with the stethoscope and breathed a sigh of relief when you realized the pulmonary sound was good and he was breathing properly. You fixed the catheter to his chest with a plaster and continued to treat the wound on the abdomen.

He was losing too much blood and if he hadn't gone to the hospital immediately he would’ve died there in front of you.

Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your arms and body were giving up as you noticed in the distance Sylvie giving a CPR to the woman who had presumably also been shot.

You heard the sound of sirens of the police and of another ambulance in the distance and for the first time in the last half hour your heart started properly beating again.

Jay, meanwhile, didn't have a clue what was going on, that you'd been shot, rushed to the hospital, or he’d completely lose his mind.

His day, unlike yours, was going on normally and no new cases had turned up so he spent the morning sorting through paperwork and old reports that were still incomplete.

He checked his cell phone to see if you'd answered him but still nothing. The last time he knew about you was when he saw you walk out the door of the apartment you shared and he couldn't stop the veil of anxiety that had passed through him. He knew he was exaggerating, as you were most likely having a busy morning and for this reason you hadn’t reached out to him.

He tried to keep his mind at bay, to stay calm and tell himself everything would be fine, that you were okay and he’d hear from you soon.

But when he saw Sylvie's name on the screen as his cell phone rang, he knew immediately that something wasn’t right and the slight feeling of anxiety was replaced by a real vice in his stomach.

“Sylvie? What happened? Is my girlfriend okay?” he asked as soon as he answered the call, without even giving her time to say anything. He knew something was up and didn’t want to waist time.

“Jay…” she breathed out, her voice clearly shaking but Jay couldn't care less.

“Sylvie tell me immediately what the hell happened. Where’s Y/N? Is she okay?” he ordered in a harsh and hostile tone, more than he ever wanted to.

“We are at Med's and…”

That was all it took for him to go crazy and not understand anything anymore.

Before she could finish her sentence he had already hung up the phone and, without even notifying his boss, he exited the unit at lightning speed, under the gaze of his worried and astonished teammates.

His mind kept repeating the last words spoken by Sylvie and never as in that moment did he feel like the world completely collapsed on him. He hadn't even asked what happened, whether you were okay or not, and as he drove like a madman through the streets of Chicago, he kept praying, praying and praying.

“God please let her be okay,” he kept muttering to himself, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he felt like it was going to stop at any moment. He tried to call you several times but each time it directed him to your voicemail. “Fuck!” he had exclaimed hitting the steering wheel in frustration and after throwing the cell phone on the passenger seat, without caring whether it broke or not.

You had to be okay, it couldn't have been otherwise. You had to be okay because you had to spend the rest of your life with him, he had to marry you, start a family with you, raise your children, maybe have pets, and to do that you had to feel good.

Jay knew that your job, as well as his, could be dangerous, but that didn't make the anxiety any less oppressive, the fear of losing you any less crippling.

It might seem like an exaggeration but he couldn't live without you, he couldn't imagine a life in which you weren't there, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you there preparing dinner with so much care and love, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you walking barefoot, the music blasting while you danced and sang as you cleaned the house, he couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and not feeling your body against his, the scent of your hair entering his nostrils, your arms holding him preventing him from getting up to go to work when you weren't on shift.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he babbled not wanting to even think about this possibility as he darted through the streets without even bothering to stop at red lights and risking causing accidents at least a couple of times.

When he got to the hospital he immediately ran towards the nurses' station, failing even to realize that Maggie was already talking to a patient.

“Maggie where is Y/N? Is she fine?” he asked frantically getting a glare from the gentleman who was previously talking to Maggie. She shot an apologetic look at the man and nodded to the room you were in before giving her attention back to the patient.

Jay ran towards the room and without even thinking twice pulled the curtain away, an expression of pure fear and concern on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were lying on the crib, alive.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, not expecting to find your boyfriend in front of you in the hospital, lifting yourself up as if to reach him.

“Y/N stay still,” Connor admonished you, who was tending your wound.

“Oh thank God,” Jay finally managed to calm down and finally breathe again. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your face with his still trembling hands, leaving a kiss on your forehead. It lasted longer than it should’ve but Jay didn't care, he just wanted to savor the moment, smell the scent of your hair, your skin, and realize you were really there in front of him, that you hadn't left him.

“Halstead, you shouldn't be here,” Connor commented without looking up from the bullet hole in your arm.

“Shut up Rhodes, just focus about treating her,” Jay retorted and the serious tone in which he said it caused both you and Connor to chuckle but as soon as you looked at him you stopped immediately, noticing the expression of pain and concern with which he was looking at you.

“What happened baby? My God…” he stroked your face, your hair, “Why didn't you call me? What did they do to you?”. His eyes moved from your features to your arm and he immediately knew it was a bullet hole. He had assumed that you’d been pushed, maybe fallen somewhere, but he hadn't thought it was a shot at all.

Anxiety and worry were quickly replaced by anger and rage and in that precise moment he promised himself he’d make the bastard who had done this to you, who had dared to hurt you, pay.

“I told Sylvie not to call you…” you started talking, not answering Jay's questions but he cut you off, “Y/N please… I'm mad enough you didn't call me and I had to hear from your colleague you ended up in the hospital, don’t even think about making jokes right now.”

“Sorry Jay, it's just… You were at work and I didn't want to worry you. I'm fine as you can see and Connor will fix me.”

“You're not fine,” Connor intervened, glancing at you before continuing to treat the wound “If you hadn't continued to treat the victim your arm wouldn't be in so bad shape, the bullet had gone too deep. But luckily I'm very good at my job.”

If looks could kill, you should’ve been petrified after Jay's glare.

“Connor, you really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you?”.

“Y/N,” Jay spoke up “I'm not playing and I'm about to lose my mind. Tell me what the hell happened.”

You sighed, looking down at your belly as you recalled those moments of terror that seemed to have happened not long ago but at the same time, so long ago.

Jay noticed the way your free hand was shaking slightly and he felt guilty for raising his voice after the traumatic event you had suffered earlier that morning. “Sorry baby,” he said, caressing your cheeks and then giving you another soft kiss on your forehead. He held you as best he could, your head level with his stomach as he continued to stroke your hair, your cheeks, trying to calm you down. It was his way of saying he was there, that you were safe and never like then did you mentally thank Sylvie for calling him.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. Everything will be okay baby.”

God only knew how terrified you were, how afraid you were of dying, never seeing the love of your life again, never hugging him again and feeling him holding you, cradling and caressing you… Shit, this was one of the best feelings you ever had the pleasure of trying in your life.

You kept thinking over and over of those scary moments, the sound of those gunshots you knew would echo in your mind for far too long. No manual, no course would’ve ever prepared you for all this, you knew that being a paramedic would’ve taken you to places where danger was around the corner, but the adrenaline, the fear, that terror… No one would’ve ever been able to preparing for this.

You didn't even realize Connor had finished bandaging your wound until you saw with the corner of your eye he was getting up and collecting all the dirty gauze and other tools he had used. “I can't stress enough about the fact you don't have to exert yourself. You have to rest for at least a week, after that you can do some office work, but no work on the field until you’ll be able to move your arm.”

“Trust me she won’t. Thanks Rhodes,” Jay replied and Connor gave him a smile, then patted him on the shoulder with an ungloved hand.

“I'll leave you two alone.”

You tried to move you arm a bit but it was still numb from the local anesthetic. Jay sat on the edge of the bed, taking your free hand and intertwining his fingers with yours as his thumb stroked your back.

“You made me worry to death you know? I think I've died and risen a thousand times in the last hour.” He was the one who spoke first, but his tone was soft and reassuring. His free hand stroked your face, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped your ponytail, behind your ear.

“I'm so sorry Jay,” you mumbled back, feeling awfully guilty to see him like this, features contracted up with concern, eyes shining.

“You don't have to apologize, I'm just so happy you're okay,” he hugged you and you returned that hug, with your free arm. “God Y/N, I wouldn't have known what to do without you. I've never been so scared as today...” he kept talking “Don't ever do this to me again.”

“I was so scared Jay… I…” you stammered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat “I thought I'd never see you again…”

“Shh, it's okay. I'm here now and you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you anymore,” he tried to calm you down even if he was feeling a storm inside. He was angry, furious, because he wasn't there to protect you, because if he had the person responsible in his hands he would’ve killed them with his bare hands, because he hated seeing you like that, scared, trembling in his arms. And he wanted to cry, cry so hard, because the fear he'd had of losing you was paralyzing.

Jay had never been in a situation where he’d even think you weren't next to him. To him it was like you were a superhero, immortal, that one way or another you'd always come back to him and he had taking all of this for granted. Reality had hit him full blown and left him breathless, making him lose the ground under his feet, the world collapsing around him and made him understand it wasn't like this, that fate was sometimes a bastard and that only event made him realize how important you were to him. Maybe even more than he could have ever imagined.

How much he loved you, for goodness sake, it was overwhelming. You were his whole world, and however absurd, ridiculous, cheesy, or over the top that might seem, Jay really couldn't live without you. It was a phrase he had told you so many times but in that particular absurd event it took on an even deeper and more real meaning and he really, really couldn't exist in a world where you weren't by his side.

And he didn't care how cheesy any of that sounded, it was the plain, simple, unequivocal truth.

“Baby you're choking me,” you muttered as he began to hold you so tight it literally blocked your breath. Your voice brought him back to reality, “Shit. Sorry, baby I didn't realize it,” he said giving you a kiss on the lips and you smiled at him, “It's okay.”

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”.

You shook your head, your lids suddenly feeling heavy. “No, just some rest.”

Jay smiled sweetly, looking at you with so much love and affection. “I know baby, I know. As soon as they prepare the discharge documents, I'll take you home and you can rest as long as you want.”

You nodded and the tender expression on your face made his heart explode. Had he already said how much he fucking loved you? “You'll stay with me right? I need you.”

“Do you really think I would’ve left you alone knowing what you've been through? I'll take the rest of the day off and, since I have a lot of accumulated vacation days, I’ll take the next few weeks as well.”

You smiled faintly. You didn’t want him to not go to work and felt selfish but God, you needed him so badly so you didn’t even complain. “Thank you love.”

“Do you feel like telling me what happened?” Jay asked, now impatient. You told him everything from how you were treating the victim, to the shooting and until help arrived. It goes without saying how furious Jay was when you finished speaking and how he looked ready to smash something against the walls.

“It's over baby, I'm really fine now, luckily they hit me on the arm and not elsewhere where it could’ve been so much worse. I'll get better soon, you know how these things go,” you tried to reassure him, placing your hand on his face and stroking his skin, a gesture that made him relax a little. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad Y/N, I’m furious. You are the most precious thing in my life and I’d kill anyone for even touch a strand of your hair in the wrong way. Knowing you were there alone, that you couldn't defend yourself, someone dared to hurt you… I can’t even explain the rage I’m feeling right now,” he replied, the tone of low voice as your words kept echoing in his mind. “I'm so sorry my baby,” he caressed your face “My precious princess. I’m so sorry for not being there and failing to protect you. It shouldn't have happened, especially not to you. If something…”

“No love no,” you interrupted him, not letting him finish that sentence “Let's not think about that. I'm here now, you're here with me and that's all that matters, okay?”.

“I know, I know,” he replied. But they’ll still have to pay for what they did to you.

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[here2bbtstrash]

real magic (explicit)

genre: smut, fluff, bangin’ your boss, m attempts kidfic - part of a hyung holiday collab !

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

word count: 16.7k 😩

contains: ~*~explicit sexual content (after kind of a slow burn sorry lol)~*~ the "moving back to your hometown" hallmark trope, a nick jonas poster (yes that's a warning), some taekook slander in the beginning because i thought it was funny, namjoon is so buff and so dumb but so wise and so hot, moni is a little shit, namjoon is a dad!, namjoon's kid uses they/them pronouns but it's not like A Focus of the story it's just flavor, reader thinks joon has a dead wife for like one second 💀 mentions of teenage pregnancy and co-parenting, one incredibly stupid asshole customer lmao, mint choco slander (it's what namjoon would want 😌), obviously there is an employee/boss power dynamic but they talk about it and figure it out because this is namjoon and he overthinks everything, namjoon driving (he's a dad i have to assume he would get his license if he had a literal child!!!!!!!!) and a lotta sentimental holiday and life talk. here are ur sex specific warnings: making out/going to second base in a car in a parking lot (what is it with my namjoons and cars in parking lots yo), fingering, semi-drunk sex, and fuckin' rawwwww with a smidge of size and breeding kink lmao (but she's on the pill!!! no more kids!!!!!!)

A/N: hello hello hi merry crisis this damn fic is finally here lmao~ as i have been babbling on about for days i really really (REALLY) love how this namjoon turned out he's just hesjkrgdhtgk such a fucking himbo but a good dad and wise and did i mention hot aaaaaa 🫠 all the love in my gay little heart to @goodsoop for their barista wisdom and real life experiences that went into this one (the cookie story will never not make me laugh) ! and to @sailoryooons for beta reading this 50 million times and encouraging me when i was convinced it sucked ass, and also for making all the gorgeous banners for this collab 😭

which btw - be sure to go check out @gimmethatagustd & @sailoryooons & @nabiolive 's fics tooooo !!! i've loved collabing with them so very much even when we were all hashtag Going Through It, we got the whole damn hyung line you hear meeeeee 🎁🎁🎁🎁

read on AO3!

Rudely awoken by the incessant beep of your alarm, you open your eyes to find Nick Jonas staring back at you, and you sit up with a scream.

Realization washes over your sleep-addled brain in waves: first, that you aren’t actually staring at a real person. He’s just smizing on a hot pink poster, held up by some remarkably durable masking tape you stuck to the wall fifteen years ago. Second, it comes back to you that you are staring at said poster because you’ve woken up in your childhood bedroom. It’s been left untouched since you were a teenager, like a weird time capsule of all your high school obsessions.

After reaching for your phone to silence the alarm, you kick your way out from under the blankets, trying not to make eye contact with Nick, or Justin, or Zayn as you stumble to the bathroom. The circumstances of your grand return to living in your goddamn parents’ house linger like a bad taste in your mouth, one that all the tongue brushing in the world can’t remove.

It still doesn’t feel real. Taehyung, your best friend in the world since freshman year of college, kicked you out. Sure, it may have been phrased more like a gentle request, but as far as your ego is concerned, it still feels like exile. Banishment, even. The person you thought you could never be parted from made his choice, and he chose his fucking boyfriend over you.

Jungkook. You think the name with all the venom your cold, dead heart can manage as you spit toothpaste into the sink.

Jungkook, the weird, bug-eyed kid who put his toe-socked feet on your couch, drank his banana milk out of your favorite mug, and ate up all of your Samyang ramyeon because he ‘thought it was communal’. 

Jungkook, who ruined your sleep schedule nightly, either by fucking Taehyung senseless on the other side of your paper-thin apartment wall, or by blasting the same four Ariana Grande songs over and over on his bluetooth speaker and singing along in an annoyingly good voice. Either activity would go on well into the early hours of the morning, until you had to bang on the wall so hard you nearly put your fist through it.

Jungkook, whose dog once took a shit right on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

Bam was cute enough to forgive, of course. But you can never forgive Taehyung for his betrayal. Especially when he knew you’d just been fired from your shitty coffee shop job for the stupidest reason ever, and he didn’t let that derail or even delay him. He still went ahead and delivered the killing blow.

Et tu, Taehyung? you think angrily to yourself as you stand in front of the suitcase containing as much of your closet as you could possibly fit. You still need to go back for your bigger furniture, and little things like your plates and your mugs and your silverware, which Jungkook is probably putting his grimy little fingers all over at this very moment. But until you’ve checked out of your indefinite vacation at the Nightmare Parental Hotel, there doesn’t really seem a point.

If you were less upset, you might take consolation in the fact that your parents aren’t actually here, that they’ve jaunted off to their timeshare until the new year, but you’re busy being too swallowed whole by your misery to find an ounce of joy in any piece of your current reality.

You dig through the pile of clothes until you manage to pull out something halfway decent. The first order of business now that you’ve moved back in is simple: acquire another stupid coffee shop job. You have no plans to stick around long, you just need something seasonal that will give you some meager income while you start looking for a real gig, one that is ideally not in your hometown.

Watching yourself in the mirror as you pull on a simple black blouse and your least-stained pair of jeans, you attempt to mentally dust off your interview skills. You conjure up your best fake smile and customer service voice, both of which are second-nature at this point.

Why do you want this job? “I’m just so passionate about coming home sticky and verbally abused by caffeine-addicted assholes every night.”

What’s your biggest weakness? “Clearly it’s the fact that I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.”

Why were you terminated from your last job? “Oh, well, I attempted to get my previous employer to improve their standards of worker treatment. You see, I selfishly requested that they raise the bar a single notch above hell. Certainly won’t happen again!”

This should go well, you tell yourself, and your reflection grimaces back.

With several hours to kill before your job interview and a growing desire to avoid the weird nostalgia of your childhood that seems to lurk in every corner of your parents’ house, you decide to take a walk.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, and though the air is brisk, it isn’t terribly windy. You tuck in your earbuds as you shut the front door behind you and pick a direction, aimless, letting your mind wander to the soundtrack of your “seasonal depression” playlist.

A whole new crop of families must have moved into your parents’ neighborhood in the years since you moved out, because the streets are more alive with kids than you can ever remember them being, even when you were a kid yourself. Bikes and scooters lay abandoned on the sidewalks between homes, and you can hear the repeated echo of a basketball dribbling on a driveway, punctuated by distant, playful screaming.

Even in the daytime, you can tell these families have spared no expense when it comes to Christmas decor: some homes have every eave outlined in string lights, some have candy cane stakes dug into the perimeter of their perfectly manicured lawns, and some have been seemingly invaded by small armies of inflatable reindeer and snowmen. You can’t help but giggle a little at the inflatable decorations that have been set to turn off during the day, the way the airless material lays limp in the grass, giving the impression of a yard strewn with dead bodies.

But you remember what it looked like when you drove in last night, everything lit up and brought to life.

Your parents definitely didn’t have inflatable lawn decorations when you were a kid, but you’d get so excited every year when your dad would drag the ladder out and spend the day stringing up the simple rainbow lights you did have. You still remember the little spark of joy you’d feel in your chest when the colors would click on after dark, the way you would run outside every night just to see them twinkle, your breath puffing steam clouds in the air, your bare feet freezing on the ice-cold driveway.

It felt like magic then. But somewhere along the way you grew up. And now that feeling’s gone. Even at night, the lights just look like… lights.

Distracted as you are by the music in your ears and thoughts of your childhood that have brought you to a standstill on the sidewalk, you don’t notice what’s happening until it’s too late. 

A blur of red and white is suddenly circling around and between your legs, and you feel something twining over your ankles, then tugging with a force that threatens to knock you off balance. As you lean forward in an attempt to right yourself, the chaos in question slows enough for you to realize it’s a fluffy white dog in a red sweater, who has excitedly tangled you up in his leash.

You manage to find the looped end of the leash and slowly get yourself unwrapped while the dog continues to pant and jump and occasionally yap at you. With your legs freed, you squat down for a proper greeting, laughing to yourself as he lifts up on his hind legs, balancing his paws on your knee to lick an enthusiastic greeting across your cheek.

“Hi, puppy,” you murmur, trying to get him to hold still long enough to read the name on his tag. A voice beats you to it.

“Moni!”

When you glance up to find Moni’s owner jogging up the sidewalk, you have to make a conscious effort to keep your own tongue in your mouth, because good lord, he is fine.

He’s tall, towering over you even once you bring yourself back up to standing, and the black workout tank and athletic shorts he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to hide the thick, well-defined muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs.

Despite his lack of clothing in the cool winter air, you can see his face and neck are slick with sweat, his white-blonde hair damp with it too. There’s even a dark patch that’s soaked his shirt at his sternum, making the firm swell of his pecs that much more apparent. It takes you an extra second to break eye contact with them, but when you do finally manage to drag your gaze up to meet his, you realize his face is just as nice of a view: honey-tan skin, full lips, and cute dimples that pop as he gives a sheepish, appreciative laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathless; his voice is deep and slightly husky in a way that makes your face grow hot. You blink stupidly at him for a few moments, your mind reeling, and then it occurs to you that you still have his dog’s leash in your hand.

“No problem,” you manage, handing the looped end back over and double-checking to make sure your ankles are still free from their entanglement. Though now that this man is holding the leash, you kind of wish they weren’t.

“Moni’s usually good about not taking off when I stop to do a circuit,” he explains, like you’re the dog owner police. It makes you wonder what kind of Karens must have moved into this neighborhood since you left it. “I don’t know why he ran, maybe he saw a squirrel or something.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile, admiring Moni as he stretches and settles into a polite seated pose. “I like his sweater.”

“Thanks,” he laughs again. “C’mon Mon.”

You can’t help focusing on how big this guy’s hands are as he slips his fingers through the end of Moni’s leash, tugging slightly as if to encourage the dog back in the direction he came from.

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

“You little shit,” his owner huffs under his breath, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. You distantly realize you should probably leave them to it and continue on your walk, but this is too entertaining to turn away from now. Your hot neighbor tries one more futile attempt to get Moni to move, then seems to give up entirely.

He stoops down with a low grunt of effort that makes your core flutter as he grabs the fluffy dog and hoists him up in his arms. You try to force yourself to stop noticing the way his biceps flex, the fact that the muscles of his arms are nearly bigger than your head.

“Thanks again,” he says with a final grateful smile, and your only response is to swallow hard and stand there like an idiot as he turns and carries his spoiled dog back home.

When you arrive for your interview, you’re delighted to discover that Indigo Coffee is nothing like your last job. It’s warm and bright, with large picture windows that flood the space in sunlight, and there’s a cozy personal touch to it, the likes of which you’d certainly never see in your former corporate shell of a workplace. The sitting area is dotted with live edge wood tables and mismatched chairs. There are an array of framed paintings on the walls that look handmade in a good way, simple yet bold brush-stroke lines in a deep blue color scheme. And, you realize as your eyes linger, the shop is absolutely overflowing with plants: in simple clay pots lined up along the windows, free-standing between tables, and tucked into bookshelves placed artfully throughout the space. 

You step closer to inspect one as you wait on your interviewer and are pleased to see that it’s real, that they all are— no waxy fake leaves jammed into a thick block of cement, but real greenery sprouted in real dirt, deep brown soil gone soft from what must have been a recent watering. These are plants someone cares for, coaxed and kept alive by someone’s time and patience and love. The thought makes you smile a little despite yourself.

There’s still fucking Christmas music playing, but you figure that’s inescapable this time of year.

“Are you here for the interview?” someone asks over your shoulder. As you turn away from the plant, you wonder if you’re imagining that the voice in question sounds slightly familiar, and then you find yourself once again staring up at a fine-ass man with white-blonde hair and a sweet pair of dimples.

He’s clearly showered since your last encounter, and is now slightly more covered up in a pair of faded jeans and a gray-green flannel thrown over a black shirt emblazoned with bold white lettering: Protect Trans Kids.

“Oh.” Moni’s owner blinks back at you, and the shock on his face is so apparent that a giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Uh, hi again.”

“Hi,” you echo, equally flustered, before realizing you failed to answer his initial question. “Oh, yeah. Yes. I am. The interview. I’m— that’s me.” So well-spoken, you mentally kick yourself.

One dimple deepens slightly as he extends a hand. “Kim Namjoon. Owner of Indigo Coffee. And the world’s least obedient dog, as you saw earlier.”

You offer your best handshake in return and a smile that you surprisingly don’t have to force as you give Namjoon your name. He gestures to a table in the corner, and you each pull back a chair to have a seat. You try to banish any potential horny thoughts from your brain, but shifting into interview mode proves difficult as he rests his large hands on the table in front of him, drumming idly along to the horribly cheery music.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Namjoon’s fingers when he speaks again. “If it’s cool with you, we can just chat a little? I’m not so good at conducting formal interviews. Too inauthentic.”

It’s like you can feel some of the tension release from your shoulders. “I— yeah. That sounds great.”

“Cool,” he nods, and you try to ignore the rush of heat up your neck at the intensity of his stare. Professional, be professional. “So I saw on your resume that it looks like your last few jobs were out of town. Did you just move here?”

“Moved back,” you say quickly. “Yeah. I grew up here, actually.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen a little in clear interest. “Really? What brings you back?”

You purse your lips as you consider how to phrase it. “My life… kind of fell apart. So. I moved in with my parents for a bit. Like a winner.” His dimples pop when he smiles at your joke, and you drop your gaze to the table. “Just trying to figure out what’s next, and find something seasonal in the meantime.”

“Well, we could certainly use the help,” Namjoon admits. When you chance a glance up, there’s a look on his face like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I saw in your application that you were terminated from your last position.” He leans in, lowering his voice slightly as he continues. “I’m gonna be honest, I hate that we even ask that question. But can you tell me a bit about what happened?”

You keep your stare fixed on the wood grain in front of you as you try to stay calm. “Well, if I can be honest too...” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tell yourself to just say it. “I was fired for trying to unionize.”

“Oh.” Namjoon sounds surprised, but you can’t manage to look at him. “Really?” You nod slowly, biting down on your bottom lip. “That’s— fucking illegal.”

That makes your gaze snap back up to meet his. His brow is furrowed slightly, a muscle in his jaw pulled tight.

“Yeah,” you say belatedly. “Yeah, I know. They made up a bunch of fake excuses as to why I was fired, but I knew what it really was. It was because I wanted them to actually pay us what we were worth, and hire more workers so we weren’t being scheduled to death. And I was getting everyone else riled up too, and I guess it scared them.”

Namjoon sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Huh. Man. Well, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

It takes you a second to process what you’re hearing. Union has always been a scary word for any person in upper management you’ve previously encountered. You hadn’t expected this to be so… easy. For him to understand, or sympathize. “I— yeah. I am too.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Namjoon continues quickly, “I think it’s great, what you tried to do. I’m very pro-union.” He pauses for a moment, his face twisting slightly in thought. “I mean, admittedly, we don’t have one here. Granted, there are only five of us. I should probably ask, though, if they want one.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “I’m gonna take a guess that you probably treat your employees pretty well as-is.”

“I try,” he says with a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours again. “So, here’s the deal. You have a ton of experience, and with holiday time off and a few people out sick, I’m super understaffed right now. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders, and hopefully you feel like you can come to me if you have any issues, without fearing retaliation.”

You blink slowly, and he must be able to read the disbelief on your face. “What I’m saying is I’m offering you the seasonal position,” he clarifies. “Is that— do you, uh, accept?”

“Yes.” The word is chased by a dazed laugh, and Namjoon’s dimples resurface around a small smile.

“Cool. I told you I’m bad at interviews,” he huffs, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. You try to ignore the swell of his bicep, clearly visible even beneath his bulky flannel. “I know this is a lot to ask, but. Is there any chance you can start, like, right now? Because Jimin’s shift ends in…” He tilts a little, fishing his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, and his mouth drops open in surprise when he gets a glimpse at the time.

“Oh, shit,” Namjoon murmurs, and then he raises his voice to call across the mostly empty store. “Jimin-ah! I’m so sorry!”

You turn around, your gaze landing on the barista leaned up against the counter next to the register. His dyed-gray hair dusts over his eyes, which pull into crescent moons as he laughs. “It’s cool. I knew you were almost done. But I’m gonna clock out now, if she’s good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning back to Namjoon. “Yeah, I can start now.”

The two of you move behind the counter, and you sweep your hair up out of your face while Namjoon starts to go through a basic run-down of where everything is located. The overhead bell tinkles as Jimin shoulders the front door open, and he lifts a hand over his head in parting.

“See you after the holidays!”

“Alright,” Namjoon says as he waves to Jimin, a little breathless from having rambled on for the better part of several minutes. “That was a lot. Do you want to just start on register? I feel like that should be easy enough, and I can train you on everything as people come in, since it��s pretty dead right now.”

You shrug. “Works for me.”

Within half an hour, there’s a line out the door, and Namjoon has managed to spill espresso grounds all over his shoes for a second time.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, taking a step back. “Sorry. Been a minute since I’ve had to be back here.”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you can see from the faces of the customers who have been waiting on their drinks for several minutes— including one who’s had hers remade three times, all of them incorrect— that it is very much not okay. You certainly lack the people skills to smooth over any of Namjoon’s mistakes, and you can feel a stress-induced eye twitch starting to flare up, brought on by Kelly Clarkson’s incessant yuletide belting.

You give your boss five more minutes, wherein he scalds his hand on the milk steamer, forgets about a cookie in the warmer until it’s burnt entirely black, and nearly turns the blender on with the lid off, before you finally intervene.

“Hey, Namjoon?” You do your best to keep your expression pleasant when he glances over at you, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should switch?”

“A-are you sure?” he stammers, apparently torn between wanting to be a good boss and a clear desire to just take the L. “I feel bad, this is literally your first shift.”

“I think I can handle it,” you reassure him, lowering your voice a little. “Let me take care of the drinks, and you can do your… endearing golden retriever thing. Keep the people entertained.”

Color blooms in the apples of his cheeks as his dimples make a brief appearance. “Oh, okay. Can do. Just let me know if you need help.”

You can’t imagine a universe where his clumsiness could in any way be considered helpful, but you keep that thought to yourself as you smile at him. At least he’s cute.

Things improve dramatically once your roles are reversed: as you expected, Namjoon is far more charismatic than he is coordinated, and he chats endlessly with the people waiting on their drinks, hardly pausing long enough to take a breath, while you scramble around trying to get your bearings in a new environment. The steady stream of customers doesn’t let up for the rest of the evening, until the last few finally trickle out of the store a few minutes after close, and you waste no time locking the door behind them with a sigh of relief.

You spin around, letting your back thud against the door for a moment as you watch Namjoon fight with a broom and dustpan in a futile attempt to get espresso dust out of the grout between the tiles. There’s a dull ache starting to thud in your skull, and it’s only deepened by the shrill opening notes of another fucking a cappella song.

“Namjoon?” you ask as you cross toward the counter, and his head instantly snaps up. “Do you think we could maybe turn off the Christmas music?”

“Oh, sure.” He’s already fumbling to grab his phone, and he taps a few buttons until the music suddenly switches, a soft voice starting to croon over an old school beat.

“Thanks,” you say, and you can’t help the pity smile that pulls up your mouth when he returns to his useless task. “I think the grout might be a lost cause, but I can go ahead and mop whenever you’re ready.”

He rights himself with a defeated sigh, nodding his head to the storage closet in the back. You follow his lead to retrieve the mop, then set about filling up the bucket with water and cleaning solution. Namjoon’s voice floats in from the front of the shop as he busies himself with his own closing tasks.

“Imagine smokin’ weed in the street without cops harassin’ / Imagine goin’ to court with no trial / Lifestyle cruisin’ blue Bahama waters / No welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters...”

You’re laughing a little as you roll the bucket out, starting at the door to work your way back. “Is this… Nas?”

He glances up, like he’s just remembered other people exist in the world. “Yeah, sorry. I can turn it off.”

“No, no,” you say quickly when he starts to reach for his phone again. “This is good. Much better than Pentatonix. I’m just… you really know every word.”

Namjoon shrugs, clearly embarrassed. “He’s my favorite.”

The revelation surprises you, and you pause to think as you pull the mop back and forth over the tile floor. It didn’t even occur to you that Namjoon would have a favorite kind of music, apart from the soft elevator muzak you imagine must play on a steady loop in his brain, given the way he fumbles through life.

“I actually wanted to be a rapper,” his voice comes back, and you look up again, your interest piqued. “When I was younger. But you know. Life had other plans.”

“Ah yes, the rapper to coffee shop owner pipeline,” you muse, and he barks a laugh that you wish you didn’t find so hot. Shaking your head, you force yourself to look back down at the espresso-studded tile, doing your best to shove your attraction aside and not think about it. He’s your boss, dumbass.

Still, it’s hard to ignore, particularly as he continues to rap along to each song that comes on, his voice deeper and huskier than you’ve heard it thus far in casual conversation. He doesn’t miss a word, and you can’t deny that it’s impressive. And sexy. Fuck.

Once the floor has been successfully mopped and everything else is put back together, you hop up onto the counter to wait for the tile to dry, and your gaze lingers over Namjoon’s large hands as he cashes out the register. He flips through the bills in time to the music, still humming under his breath as he goes, and you do your best to hold in your laugh when he inevitably loses count and has to start over from the beginning. Thankfully the second attempt sticks, and he smiles proudly to himself as he zips everything up into the deposit bag.

“First shift down,” he announces, as if you might have forgotten, and then his eyes find yours and you swear your breath gets stuck in your throat. “How do you feel?”

It only occurs to you now how close he’s standing to you, and with the way your legs are casually dangling over the edge of the counter, it wouldn’t take much for him to step between them. And god, he’s so damn tall, you’re practically eye-to-eye.

“Uh,” you manage, your mouth suddenly gone dry. “Good. I feel good.”

“That’s good,” he answers, his voice dipping into that throaty tone again. You find yourself wondering absentmindedly if maybe Namjoon has a customer service voice, too, and then for the briefest flash of a moment, his gaze flits from your eyes to your lips and back again. It’s so quick, you can’t be sure it even really happened.

You tell yourself it’s just your exhausted post-shift brain seeing things that aren’t there, wanting this fine-ass man to be into you, too.

A sudden bang on the front door makes you flinch so hard, you come dangerously close to kneeing Namjoon in the crotch. He takes a large step back as you whip around to look over your shoulder, only to see a kid’s face pressed to the glass, framed by two small hands. You’ve never been great at telling the age of children on sight, but this one looks like… maybe a middle schooler?

“Whose fucking kid is that?” you say automatically, blinking, dumbfounded. Namjoon’s laugh is a low rumble behind you.

“That would be mine.”

It takes several days for the shock to wear off. Your boss has a kid. Kim “could’ve burnt the building down with a single cookie” Namjoon is at least partially responsible for keeping another human being alive. Which means you have a crush… on a father.

A father who also happens to be your boss.

You try not to think about any of it.

There’d been brief introductions when you left the shop that first night, but all you’d really managed to glean was the kid’s name, Sol, and their pronouns. As someone who is historically terrible with children, you’d excused yourself the minute Namjoon locked the front door, after what felt like an eternity spent watching him pat each of his pockets twice before he finally managed to find his keys.

“I hope it wasn’t weird,” your boss says out of nowhere in the middle of your next shift, during a much-needed moment of peace after the morning rush. “For you to meet Sol like that. It’s just been hard, since their mom, uh…”

Namjoon trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You glance up, eyes widening as you put the pieces together.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “I’m so sorry.”

His gaze meets yours, and it’s like you can see the wheels in his head turning before he catches up. “No, no,” he says quickly, and then he starts to laugh. “Wow, I really did not start that sentence well. She’s not dead. She just got married, and she’s on her honeymoon for most of December. The logistics have been hard, is what I meant.”

An embarrassed heat creeps up your neck, and your elbows thud against the countertop as you press your face into your hands, attempting to muffle your own laughter. “In my defense,” you groan, “you really made it sound like you had a dead wife.”

“Not dead! She’s fine!” Namjoon’s dimples are as prominent as you’ve ever seen them when you peek up at him from your full-body cringe. “Very much alive, very much not my wife.” The muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his chest, leaning up against the counter next to the register. “Never was, actually.”

“Really?” you answer automatically, your damned curiosity getting the better of you.

He nods, his voice a little more serious when he continues, rambling on in the way that you’ve already started to suspect is his default setting, talking as if to fill empty space. “We were seventeen when we got pregnant. I knew we were young then, but I don’t think I really realized. Now that I’m almost thirty, I know: seventeen is fucking young.”

The line of his jaw tightens, thoughtful, as his gaze sweeps over the floor. “I thought I wanted to marry her, or at least felt obligated to. Like it was the right thing to do, but. We didn’t have any money, and then it all got so hectic after Sol was born. Didn’t even take a year for us to realize it wasn’t gonna work, not for us.”

You blink, trying to take in all the new information. “That sounds really hard.”

“It was,” Namjoon admits. “But we were both on the same page about it. That no matter what, Sol had to come first.” He glances up with a shrug. “It’s all good now. She’s a great co-parent, and her new husband is really good for her. And… well, I have Indigo.”

The tinkling of the bell at the front door snaps you out of a daze, makes you realize you’ve been staring at him, dumbfounded. You do your best to shoot Namjoon a soft smile, and to ignore the pang in your chest as he turns to greet the customer that’s just wandered in, already starting to babble on about the weather.

You find yourself more grateful for Namjoon’s presence with each passing shift, in a way that you try to convince yourself is thoroughly platonic. Between fairly steady work and his very steady chatter, your time spent in the warm, sunny space of Indigo turns out to be a good distraction from your own miserable excuse for a life. The repetitive motions of making drink after drink are oddly comforting, and you have to admit, Namjoon really is good with the customers.

“Peppermint mocha to go.”

You do your best to follow up the sentence with a polite smile as you set a drink down for the customer who has done nothing but scowl at you the whole time you were making it. The silent prayer you’ve sent out to the universe that he’ll take whatever personal problem he has elsewhere and leave you alone has clearly gone unanswered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, and you can feel your shoulders creep up towards your ears in anticipation of nothing good. Here we fucking go.

You blink twice, trying to keep your service persona engaged. “I’m sorry, is that not what you ordered?” It is, you know it is, you heard him say it.

“No, that’s mine,” the man quickly responds, reaching out to snatch the cup in a motion that makes you flinch. “But do you hear this fucking song?”

The honest answer is no: at this point the ever-present Christmas music might as well be white noise, so you have to make a conscious effort to tune back in and listen. It’s a few seconds, and then you pick up on the melody. “…Last Christmas?”

“Uh, yeah,” he continues, explaining like you’re stupid. “The original. Last Christmas by Wham!” When it’s clear you still aren’t putting the pieces together, he scoffs in pure frustration. “You just made me lose Whamageddon! I’ve won every year for the last five years, I can’t believe you would even put this on your fucking playlist!”

Your face pulls into an incredulous grimace before you can think to control it. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t make the—”

He cuts you off. “First off, I don’t need the fucking attitude. And surely you’re at least capable of checking what songs are on there, right? That’s not too advanced for you to handle?”

You didn’t even hear Namjoon walk up from the back office, but he’s suddenly stepping in front of you, and you’re more than glad to move back and let him handle this dude before you end up in jail. “Woah, woah, alright,” Namjoon interjects, his voice loud enough to carry. “What’s going on?”

The man beats you to it. “I’m trying to file a legitimate complaint and she’s rolling her fucking eyes and getting an attitude with me!”

“It’s the song,” you explain briefly, trying to keep everything about your expression neutral. “He’s mad that we’re… playing Wham.”

Namjoon’s face twists in an expression that you would find funny if you weren’t so fucking livid, one that you’re pretty sure is the mirror image of your own reaction minutes earlier. “The song? Seriously?”

You can see the guy scrambling, clearly starting to get embarrassed at his own dramatics. “Alright, I don’t have time for this. I guess I just need to take my business elsewhere, because this is ridiculous. What ever happened to the customer is always right?”

Namjoon goes silent for a minute, and you try to ignore the way the look on his face makes your pulse quicken, thudding brightly in the hollow of your neck. His voice is deadly serious when he speaks again. “I appreciate that you’re upset, but if you’re going to look my employee in the face, after she just performed a service for you, and disrespect her like that? Over a fucking song? Nah, I’m not gonna tolerate it. Maybe the next time you want someone to make you a toothpaste drink, you should take your ass to Starbucks.”

It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep the reaction off your face until the asshole has stormed out the front door, nasty drink in hand. As the bell finally tinkles to signal his departure, you collapse forward, just barely catching yourself on the counter so you don’t crumple straight down to the floor.

“Oh my god.” Your laugh of disbelief comes out more like a groan, at the ridiculous complaint and your boss’ insanely attractive comeback alike. “I fucking hate this time of year.”

“Hey.” The word is punctuated by Namjoon’s shoulder bumping into yours, and you look back up at him, still laughing a little at your own misery. His eyes search yours, sincere. “Assholes are assholes no matter what season it is. I’m sure that guy finds plenty of things to complain about the other eleven months of the year, too. Don’t let him ruin it for you.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, if only because you can do it freely now, without a man standing over you and yelling about your ‘bad attitude’. “I guess,” you huff. “And thank you.”

Namjoon shakes his head, like it’s nothing. “Chin up, okay?”

The two of you breeze through closing that night, familiar enough to fall into a steady routine now. You’re wiping everything down behind the counter and humming along to Tupac when Namjoon’s voice drags you back out of your thoughts in a way you’ve already grown accustomed to.

“You know…”

You glance up, only to realize that he’s started to flip chairs on top of tables to clear the floor, and is grabbing them two at a time, one in each hand. The image makes you a little dizzy, and you tell yourself to focus on his words, not his biceps.

“I think we make a pretty good team,” he concludes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, trying to keep your composure at the unexpected compliment. “I was thinking the same thing. And thanks again for, you know. Handling that guy.”

Namjoon shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Hey, you’re doing me a favor, taking this seasonal job. I’m not about to let anyone fuck with you.”

You bite down on a smile as you head towards the back to grab the mop, and then you hear a loud bang on the front door— it’s another sound you’ve gotten used to in your brief time at Indigo. There’s the click of the deadbolt, chased by the tinkling overhead bell and Namjoon’s chiding voice. “Homie, if you break my door I’m gonna make you get a job to pay me back for it.”

“You think I don’t know about child labor laws?” you hear Sol retort, clearly not intimidated, and the attitude in their voice has you biting back a laugh.

Wheeling the mop bucket out of the storage closet, you glance up to see Namjoon jut his chin toward the large front window, indicating Sol to take a seat on the ledge. “Feet off the floor, she’s tryna clean.”

Sol complies, plopping down in the window with their eyes glued to their phone as Namjoon disappears back toward the office to grab his things. You watch as Sol pulls their knees into their chest so their chunky black boots clear the tile, and you can’t help noticing that said boots are adorned with oversized silver bat-shaped buckles, reflecting the amber streetlight gleam that leaks through the window.

“I like your boots,” you say, more to yourself than Sol, half expecting them to be so engrossed in TikTok that they don’t even hear you.

But to your surprise, Sol looks up.

“Thanks,” they say, glancing at their feet. “I just got them. I’m in my post-hardcore era right now.”

The statement is delivered without a trace of irony, and you do your best to hold in another amused giggle as you respond. “Wow, you are… so much cooler than I was when I was your age.”

Sol seems to consider this for a moment, then shrugs. “I mean, you didn’t have the internet back then, right?”

The question hits you like a train, and you have to pause and press a hand over your heart at the impact. “Okay, ouch, I’m not that old.” They grimace apologetically, and you lean up against the mop handle in thought. “But the internet definitely wasn’t like it is now. The only social media that really existed was Myspace, and my parents wouldn’t let me make one. I mostly just used the internet to, like, play RuneScape.”

“Oh shit,” Sol remarks, sounding remarkably like Namjoon in the process. “You played old school?!”

It’s like you can feel your bones crumbling to dust inside your body, and you wince as you resume dragging the mop over the tile. “Hey, back then it was the only kind of RuneScape we had. But yes, you can consider me a… founding father of that game.”

“That’s cool!” they exclaim, sounding so genuine it makes your head spin. When did RuneScape become cool again? “My friends and I play old school all the time. It’s the best, for real.”

You shake your head in disbelief as you continue to mop, and a long pause settles between you, with Sol’s interest clearly returning to their phone.

Fuck, you think to yourself, what else do kids even talk about? Marvel movies? It’s like your mind has gone totally blank, unable to conjure up a single topic of conversation, and you practically huff out an audible sigh of relief when their voice breaks the silence again.

“I think my dad has been happier since you started working here.”

The mop nearly slips out of your hands entirely, and you glance up, eyes wide. “I— really?”

Sol nods, playing absentmindedly with the strings of their black hoodie, then bringing the end of one up to their mouth to gently chew on. “It’s a theory I have. A game theory. I plan to ask additional follow-up questions tonight.”

At this, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m sure your investigation will be very thorough.”

There’s a flash of a dimple in Sol’s cheek, like the mirror image of their dad. “I can tell you what he says, if you want.”

You wonder how telling your own smile is. “I mean… I can’t say I’m not curious.” You’re distantly aware of the sound of the office door closing, chased by Joon whistling to himself, and you lower your voice conspiratorially as you drop the mop back into the bucket. “I look forward to hearing what you find out.”

Monday morning, when you wake up to the omnipresent smize of Nick Jonas, you can’t help smiling back. 

You made it through your first week of work, and it wasn’t even that torturous. And best of all, Namjoon reminded you the night before that Indigo is closed on Mondays, which gives you an entire day to spend as you please. A real day off, which was truly unheard of at your last job, where you’d spend your non-scheduled days still anticipating an incoming emergency text asking you to cover a shift last-minute. More often than not, you’d end up working after all.

“But not today,” you announce to Nick.

A grand plan has already started to form in your head, one that involves a party size bag of Hot Cheetos and all eight episodes of The Fabulous, and yet. There’s a lingering urge at the back of your brain that you can’t quite ignore. With all the day-off energy you can muster, you drag yourself out of bed and tug on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, then shuffle into the bathroom to at least make yourself halfway decent.

You’re just going for a quick walk around the block to get some fresh air, you tell yourself. That’s all. Certainly no other reason.

It’s only a few minutes after you step out your front door that a fluffy white blur nearly collides with your shins, and when you stoop down to lift Moni into your arms, you once again can’t keep the smile off your face. Huh, who could’ve seen this coming?

But when you glance up, there’s no hot buff man jogging up the sidewalk after his dog. In fact, you realize as you look back at the ball of fluff in your arms, he isn’t wearing a leash or harness at all, just another cute sweater.

“Are you even supposed to be out here?” you ask Moni. His only answer is to drag his tongue up the side of your face.

You shift him a little in your arms so you can fumble for the tag attached to his collar, and thankfully, there’s an address listed. It takes you a second to get your bearings in the neighborhood, having not lived here for close to a decade, but it eventually comes back to you where the listed street is, and you start to walk. Moni is already blinking sleepily in your arms, clearly enjoying his preferred mode of transportation.

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as you approach the house in question— even if you hadn’t had Moni’s tag to guide you, finding his home would’ve been easy enough as soon as you passed this street, because you can hear old school hip-hop bumping through a speaker despite still being several houses down the block. You suppose Namjoon can get away with it during the day, when all the neighborhood kids are still in school.

As you make your way up the driveway, you realize the music is actually coming from behind the house, and when you follow the path that leads around back, you spot the culprit: a simple wooden-slat fence surrounds the yard, and the gate has been left wide open.

Before you can even make it over the threshold, a familiar voice reaches your ears, sounding much closer than the music. “Ah, shit.”

Namjoon comes barreling through the open gate so fast he practically runs you over, and Moni yaps, like he’s annoyed at being jostled as you quickly try to stumble out of his owner’s path.

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to take in how shock looks on Namjoon’s features without giggling a little. Today is certainly not that day. It’s just so endearing, the way his eyes widen and his mouth pulls into a perfect o-shape.

“Hi,” you breathe out around your laughter, trying to ignore the heat that flushes into your face when his dimples appear in return. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

With a wave of his hand and several profuse thank yous, you follow Namjoon back through the gate, and wait until he firmly shuts it behind you before letting Moni down to trot off across the yard. It’s only now that you take Namjoon in properly: he’s in a gray hoodie under a pair of denim overalls, both of which are splattered artfully with paint in a variety of colors.

“I was just in my studio,” he explains, tipping his head toward the small shed in the yard, which you quickly realize is also the source of the music that led you here. “Doin’ some art. Do you, uh… wanna see?”

“Yeah, okay,” you answer with a nod.

“Fair warning, I’m really bad at it,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads you in the open studio door, raising his voice to be heard over the music. He reaches for his phone, propped up in the windowsill, to turn the volume down a few notches.

There’s an easel up against the far wall holding what must be his current project, a half-finished scene that you realize upon closer inspection is thousands of tiny dots of color, painstakingly blotted onto the canvas to form a mountain landscape at a distance. A few more pieces that he’s already completed have been leaned up against another wall to dry, one featuring an abstract array of featherlight brushstrokes, and another where the paint’s been globbed on in thick layers.

Namjoon is talking a mile a minute as you inspect the canvases. “I thought maybe I’d do cyanotypes today, but it’s not sunny enough, and I’ve made that mistake before. I’m really into texture right now, so I’m trying out some different techniques with paint. I want to get better at pointillism, but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it would be. ‘Cause it’s just dots, right? But you have to be able to see the forest for the trees, too.”

“These are amazing,” you finally manage to murmur, and to your surprise, the compliment actually renders him silent. When you turn back over your shoulder to look at him, he’s glancing down, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks. But I just do it for fun. ‘Cause I love art.”

“I can tell,” you say, and when he looks up, you offer him a smile you hope reads as encouraging. “Did you make the art at work, too?”

He nods, still sheepish, and that answer also surprises you. You recall thinking on your first day that the paintings hung on the walls looked handmade, but it never crossed your mind that they might have been made by Namjoon’s hands. Maybe because you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing him drop and break things, you haven’t ever considered him as also capable of… creation.

And yet, here he is. Proving you wrong.

“Sorry,” Namjoon’s voice makes you refocus on him, and your brow furrows in confusion at the unexpected apology. “This is literally your one day away from me and here I am, taking up your time. Thanks again for bringing Moni back.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “Don’t have much going on today, honestly. I never really know what to do with myself when I’m not working. Which I’m aware is very sad.”

“Well, uh,” Namjoon starts, and when he takes a single step closer, you swear you feel something flutter in your stomach— or maybe lower. “Sol’s got a half-day today, since it’s the last day before break, so I’m picking them up in a bit. And we were gonna go on a hike, probably take Moni too. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

Your eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh. That sounds great. I mean, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up just so. “Nah. I actually think Sol really likes you. At least, they wouldn’t stop asking questions about you at dinner last night.”

“Is that right?” You do your best to keep your expression neutral.

Namjoon drives far enough north that there’s actually snow on the ground when you climb out of his front seat. You shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you follow him across the gravel parking lot towards the trailhead, a few paces behind Sol and Moni.

Sol shoots an expression of pure mischief at you over their shoulder, and then immediately starts to sprint up the marked path through the woods, Moni easily keeping up.

“Bye, nerds!” you hear them call before they disappear between the trees.

“Stay on the trail!” Namjoon shouts back, sounding as dad-like as you’ve ever heard him, and you can’t help but laugh. The two of you quicken your steps slightly to not fall too far behind, tracking the set of boot and paw-prints they’ve left to mark their trail.

For a moment, it’s silent between you, save the crunching of snow underfoot. It’s nice, being out in nature like this, time spent with Namjoon where you aren’t suffering through Christmas music and ungrateful customers. Where you can just… breathe. It makes you feel a little less sorry for yourself, a little less fixated on your own miserable life.

You glance over at him as that strange seasonal melancholy starts to settle into your bones again. “Are the holidays… better? With a kid?”

Namjoon makes a face, like he’s surprised by the question. “I mean, they’re definitely different. Then again, it’s been a long time since I did the holidays without a kid— not since I was a kid myself. What do you mean by better?”

Self-consciousness washes over you, your gaze drifting down to the path beneath your feet. “I don’t know, there’s just… I can’t shake this weird feeling now that I’m back home. This time of year used to be so exciting for me when I was Sol’s age. Everything felt special. Magical. But now I’m back here, and nothing’s really changed, except me. But I just keep feeling like the magic is gone. It’s… sad.”

He nods, taking a moment before he responds, and he’s chuckling softly to himself when he finally does. “You know, it’s kinda funny. When Sol was younger I actually felt a lot of stress this time of year. I couldn’t really enjoy it, because I was too busy trying to make sure that they had the best holiday I could possibly give them. That they didn’t feel like they were getting any less, since, you know. Their mom and I aren’t together. It’s funny that you bring up the magic, because I put a lot of pressure on myself to make that magic happen. But now that they’re a little older, I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” you prompt.

A dimple deepens as he hesitates. “It’s gonna sound corny. But really, I realized that the holidays aren’t about the gifts, or the decorations, or every little thing going perfect. You can make yourself sick over that shit, and I did, but kids don’t really care about it.” He pauses, and for a second you think that might be it, but then he keeps going, eyes fixed on the towering pine trees ahead of you.

“The year I opened Indigo, I had sank so much fucking money into it that I was broke. Broke broke. I couldn’t afford a single gift, a tree, not even a turkey. Sol and I sat on the floor of my shitty apartment and ate Chapagetti and watched Friends. And I felt like the biggest fucking failure imaginable. And then you know what happened?”

“What?”

“Sol turned to me, and they said, ‘This is the best Christmas ever, because we get to hang out, just the two of us.’” He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to ward off tears, and his voice comes back slightly less steady than before. “I still don’t know if they said that because they really meant it, or if they could just tell that I needed to hear it. But either way, I thought to myself: how fucking lucky am I, to have such a great kid? Like what did I ever do to deserve them? I still feel that way.”

Namjoon shrugs, as if to shake off the emotion. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not helpful to you, but. I just see it differently now. It’s not about the what, or the how. It’s about the who. Spending this time of year with the people you care about, and making sure they know you do. That’s the real magic.”

You realize the trail has carried you up the sloping hillside, and is now flattening out at the edge of a clearing, where you can see Moni chasing Sol through the snow, can hear their high-pitched laughter ringing out in the wide-open air.

When you turn back to Namjoon, he’s already looking at you.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel the magic right now. I didn’t either, for a long time. But it does come back, I believe that. It’ll come back for you, too.”

You blink up at him, overwhelmed by his willingness to be so honest, and by the wisdom of his words. “I— thank you,” you finally manage to say.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, just glances up to where Sol and Moni are still playing, and your gaze follows his out over the snow-covered field. Sol is dusting off a sizable stick, and they call out for Moni to fetch before launching it into a dramatic arc, high up in the air.

Moni watches it go, entirely disinterested, then settles onto his haunches in the snow with a yawn.

“You’re so bad at being a dog!” Sol shouts, and that’s enough to make you and Namjoon both dissolve into laughter. They look up at the sound, hands-on-hips, before yelling again, this time in your direction. “My dad said he has a crush on you!”

Your jaw drops open, and Namjoon’s eyes are wide as you’ve ever seen them when you look up at him.

“Damn, dude, you said you were gonna be chill about it!” he exclaims, and you press a hand to your mouth as a fresh wave of giggles overtakes you. Given how long Namjoon’s legs are, it only takes him a few strides to catch up to Sol. You stay a tentative distance behind him, but still close enough to be able to make out their conversation.

“Uncle Hobi says you need to be bolder with women,” Sol chides, matter-of-fact.

“Uncle Hobi says a lot of shit,” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“He painted my nails,” Sol raises their voice, clearly talking more to you than to their dad, and holds up a hand for you to see, waggling their fingers proudly.

“They look great,” you call out in response.

Namjoon turns back to you as you step in closer, then juts his chin to a bench at the other side of the clearing. “Sit with me for a sec?”

With a nod, you follow him over, and he wipes the metal surface free of snow with his sleeve before gesturing for you to have a seat. For a moment, the two of you sit silently and watch Sol, who is already busying themself with building a snowperson while Moni slow-blinks encouragingly from a distance.

Namjoon’s words chase a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna be real with you, despite the fact that my child just stole my thunder. I like you a lot.”

Your heart swells in your chest, threatening to burst. “I-I like you too,” you stammer back immediately. “Have definitely been harboring my own crush… basically since I started working at Indigo.”

When you turn to look at him, it surprises you a little that he isn’t smiling. You can see a muscle working in his jaw, like he’s nervous.

“That’s the thing,” he finally relents. “Work. I don’t— I hadn’t really planned to tell you how I was feeling, or act on it. Because I’m your boss, and that means, you know. There’s a power dynamic there. And it would be… unethical of me to blur the lines like that, by getting involved with my employee. I wanted you to come out with us today because it was a chance for you and I to be equals, outside of work, but it’s not like that dynamic just goes away, you know? And I feel a little guilty about it now. Because I really like being around you so much, but I just. We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Not while you’re working for me.”

You stare down at the snow under your boots as you take in his words, and you can’t help it. Try as you might to sit there and take his worries seriously, laughter flutters out of you before you can hold it in.

“What?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

“I really, really appreciate that you gave it so much thought,” you say, willing your voice to stay even. “I mean it.”

“It’s weighed really heavy on me, if I’m honest,” he says solemnly, and you glance over to see him staring into the middle distance, like he’s deep in contemplation.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to where his hand rests on the bench between you and covering it with your own.

“Namjoon?” you ask softly, and it seems to snap him out of his trance enough to look back at you.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” you preface. “But if I have to choose between you and my stupid seasonal coffee shop job?” The smile starts to flicker over your face again. “Then I quit. I quit right now.”

“Oh thank god,” Namjoon breathes, and you can only make a soft noise of surprise when all at once, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. You need a split second for the shock to wear off, and then you’re moving your mouth against his, one hand fisting tight in the fabric of his jacket. His lips are full and warm, and it feels like far too soon that he’s pulling back again, his cheeks flushed with color.

“Will you, uh—” he pauses, like he’s remembering how to form a sentence. “Will you still work tomorrow though? Jimin’s back after Christmas, but I really don’t think I can survive a shift on my own.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still a little breathless from his kiss. “Yeah, I think you’d burn the place down.”

Unable to deny the claim, he laughs brightly as you untangle from each other, then gets to his feet before offering a hand to help you up. “We should head out, it’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s true: across the wide clearing you can already see the sun threatening to sink back down between the trees, casting a golden-pink light that gleams off the snow and paints the world in warmth.

Sol leads the way back through the woods to the car, tugging Moni along by their leash, while you and Namjoon bring up the rear. You glance over at him a few times to catch him staring, and you scrape your teeth across your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile off your face, unable to stop yourself from mentally replaying the moment when he kissed you, over and over.

Just as you step under the shadow of a large tree, snow-covered branches stretching up toward the clear sky above you, Namjoon stops in the path. It’s so abrupt that you continue a few more paces before you even realize, and then you stop, too, glancing back towards him.

“Hey Sol,” Namjoon calls. “Think you and Moni can make it all the way back to the car in ten seconds?”

“I know what you’re doing,” comes Sol’s cheeky reply, but when Namjoon starts counting backwards from ten, you can hear the crunch of their boots taking off down the path.

“Eight, seven, six…” You watch as Namjoon cranes his neck until he deems Sol far enough out of sight, taking a step toward you as his counting trails off, and you find yourself pulled into him like a magnet. “Come here,” he murmurs, and then his hands are slipping up your waist and guiding you backwards until your back hits the trunk of the tree.

In true Namjoon fashion, he uses way more strength than is necessary for the task, and though your winter jacket cushions you from the impact, you’re smacked against the bark so hard that it knocks a dusting of snow off the branches above you, covering you both in flakes that stick to your hair and eyelashes. The sudden rush of cold makes you gasp into Namjoon’s mouth, but then he’s rolling his tongue over yours and you can’t think about anything else. A heavy pulse has started to thud between your legs at the heat of his breath in your mouth, the way his hips have you pinned to the tree, his body big enough to cover yours entirely.

“Joon,” you find the air to breathe as his lips trail hungrily down the slope of your neck. You rake a hand through his hair, white-blonde strands studded with snow, to try and pull his attention back, despite very much not wanting him to stop. “Joon, we should go. Before someone steals your kid.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs against your skin, and then his mouth is on yours again for one more kiss, like he can’t get enough. “Okay,” he finally grunts as he pulls away, sounding as begrudgingly responsible as you feel. Your head is still spinning; you want nothing more than to stay here and let him kiss you dizzy.

“Let’s go.”

He takes a step back so you can right yourself, reaching out to dust some snow off your jacket, and then the two of you resume walking up the path, sharing a breathless laugh like confidantes. You assume it’s just his standard clumsiness when Namjoon’s hand knocks into yours, but then his fingers are twining through yours purposefully, until you’re pressed palm to palm.

The rush of heat that blooms in your chest at his touch keeps you warm the rest of the way to the car.

Your last shift at Indigo somehow manages to feel exactly like every shift that’s come before it and completely new at the same time.

The work is the same, the steady stream of customers unchanged, the Christmas music still an aggravating soundtrack. But you no longer feel like you have to ignore the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when Namjoon asks you a question, or meets your gaze across the shop.

The only urges you have to suppress are indecent ones, made worse by Namjoon seemingly taking advantage of every opportunity to touch you: hip-checking you when you’re both standing at the front counter, pressing a hand to the small of your back whenever he has to squeeze behind you, leaning in a little closer than necessary to be heard over the noise of the milk steamer. It’s enough to make your breath hitch each time, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same relief at not having to hold back anymore.

Towards the end of the night, it surprises you when the typically consistent flow of customers starts to slow down, until it seems to have ceased entirely. You still have two hours to go, but you find yourself staring at the walls, every table empty, having done all the side work you can think of to distract yourself from boredom.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking shut makes you glance up, only to see Namjoon flipping the open sign over.

“What are you doing?” you ask, blinking dumbfounded, and he looks over his shoulder at you with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas Eve Eve, and I’m the owner, so. We’re closing early. Effective immediately.” The decree makes you laugh a little, and his dimples wink back. “Let’s finish cleaning, I wanna show you something.”

In record time, you find yourself standing outside the front door of Indigo as Namjoon locks up, only tonight your hands are kept warm by the hot chocolates he’d made for the two of you as you closed. He takes his cup back once his hands are free, and you try a tentative sip from yours, now cool enough to drink without burning your mouth. Given what you witnessed of his barista abilities on your first day, you brace yourself for the worst, but your eyes widen in pleasant surprise when the liquid hits your tongue.

“Being a dad means getting really good at a few specific things,” he says by way of explanation as he unlocks his car doors, and you smile as you slip into the passenger seat.

It occurs to you as Namjoon starts to drive that you don’t actually know where he’s taking you, but when you open your mouth to ask at the next red light, he leans over you to fumble open the glovebox and you lose your train of thought. He fishes inside for a few seconds before retrieving a CD case, then makes quick work of prying it open and sliding the disc into the slot on the dash. You attempt to hide your giggle behind the rim of your cup.

“No wonder you like ‘90s music so much. You’re still living there,” you say, nodding to his antiquated stereo, and he smirks as he turns up the volume. 

“This is A Tribe Called Quest,” he remarks, quirking an eyebrow when he looks back at you. “You better show some respect.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease in response, and you don’t miss the color that flushes his cheeks.

The light turns green and he accelerates through the intersection, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching across the center console to grip playfully at your leg, a few inches above your knee. You can see his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, like he’s considering saying something, but when he finally opens his mouth, it’s just to rap along to the music.

It’s only a few songs later that he’s turning off the main road and following a barely-lit gravel path up to a large grassy parking lot, where he pulls into a space and kills the engine. You squint through the windshield, tucking your now-empty drink into the cupholder, but you can’t make out much except dusk and some vague lights over a hill in the distance.

“Was this crush thing just a ploy to murder me?” you quip, and Namjoon looks a little nervous when you glance over, like he took the question to heart. “I’m kidding,” you clarify quickly.

His voice comes out surprisingly soft. “This is one of my favorite things to do during the holidays. Thought it might help with, you know. The magic.”

Something cracks open inside you as you look back at him. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Ah,” he says, as if to dismiss the compliment. “You haven’t seen it yet. Maybe you’ll hate it. Come on.”

The two of you climb out of his car to start your trek to whatever he has in store, heading in the direction of the lights, and Namjoon’s hand slips into yours, like it’s already second nature. Easy and sweet. You grip tight to him, the night air colder now than it was when you left work, but then you finally crest over the hill, and the temperature is suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

It takes you a moment to even understand what you’re looking at. The place is clearly some kind of arboretum, as the path ahead of you snakes through a perfectly manicured garden of various plants, but the only thing you can focus on are the lights. Every tree, bush, shrub, and other kind of greenery that lines the walkway has been intricately strung up with lights, each one boasting a different hue. The end result is nothing short of dazzling— a veritable rainbow of light and life and color, glittering diamond-bright against the deep-set night around you.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. “This is beautiful.”

There’s a dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth when you look up at him. “Thought you might like it.”

“I can’t believe I never knew this was here,” you remark, your eyes wide and blinking as you try to take it all in.

“Hey,” he answers with a shrug. “Maybe your hometown still has a few good surprises left in it.” You exhale a laugh as you lean into his side and he squeezes your joined hands; you can’t help feeling like you’ve already found the greatest surprise of them all.

After an hour spent wandering through the displays, each one more breathtaking than the last, Namjoon diverts you toward a small food stand. He comes away from the counter with a paper carton filled to the brim with long ropes of twisted, fried dough, warm enough to release steam into the air when you tear one apart to share, and dusted with cinnamon sugar that sticks to your fingertips.

The two of you take a few steps back down the path until you’re under an archway of glowing golden lights, then eventually come to a standstill, too hungry to do anything except devour your food.

Namjoon speaks first, mid-chew. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?” you answer as you reach for another piece.

He swallows, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth before he continues. “At your interview, you said your life fell apart. What happened?”

“Oh.” You smirk as you rip the braided dough in two, then in two again, before popping it into your mouth. “It seems a little silly now, but. I got fired from that last job, like I told you. And the same day, my roommate pretty much kicked me out of the apartment, because he wanted his boyfriend to move in. He was also my best friend, so. It stung a little. A lot. Moving back in with your parents at this age is humbling, to say the least. Feels a lot like starting over.”

Namjoon hums, like he understands. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Eh,” you respond noncommittally. “I should probably be happy for him. The timing just… wasn’t amazing.”

“You know,” he murmurs, thoughtful. “I thought my life was over when my ex and I got pregnant. Not even eighteen and about to be a dad. I really felt like… I don’t know, like that was it for me.” You nod slowly, unable to even fathom what that must’ve been like.

“But, here I am. Still alive.” Namjoon flashes you a grin, and you find yourself smiling back. “Still figuring it out. I actually feel like I’ve learned a lot from watching Sol grow up. They’re like—” He shakes his head, as if at a momentary loss for words. “They’re like a different person every month, I swear. What they’re into, how they dress. Who they wanna be. It makes me feel, I don’t know. Like it’s okay. Like I can change too.” He shrugs. “That’s the thing about life. It’s long. And even when you feel like it’s ended… it keeps going anyway.”

His words wash over you, and you’re so in awe that you can’t help but laugh.

“Ah, sorry.” He grimaces, suddenly self-conscious. “I know that was corny.”

“No, no,” you interject, trying to keep your composure. “I just think you are like, literally the wisest person I’ve ever met.”

The lights glimmering overhead aren’t enough to hide the way Namjoon blushes at the compliment, and then he pauses, as if recalling something. “Didn’t I nearly run the blender with the lid off on your first day?”

You double-over at the memory, and he’s laughing now, too. “Okay, okay. Fair point.” 

The thought keeps circling around in your brain as you dust cinnamon sugar from each other’s jackets and continue your way around the rest of the gardens, occasionally pausing to trade sticky-sweet kisses in the twinkling glow: you don’t want the night to end. You keep glancing over at Namjoon, wondering if he’s feeling the same way as he drives you back into town, the heat in his car on full blast, the CD player still underscoring your conversation.

“So, what do your Christmas plans look like?” he asks, eyes flitting briefly from the road to meet your gaze.

You fiddle with a button on your coat, wishing you had a less depressing answer. “I was just gonna spend it by myself. My parents already had a vacation in Hawaii planned, so I’m gonna do what I always do: hole up with booze and snacks and wait for it all to be over.”

He chuckles, tapping his fingertips absentmindedly against the steering wheel. “Well, I have about a hundred presents to wrap tomorrow night while Sol’s at their mom’s. Why don’t you come over and help? I can even provide the booze.” There’s a pause, and his voice comes back softer before you can respond. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up at his sincerity, the way he gently cares for you, has since day one. “Yeah, okay. I mean, you had me at free alcohol.”

Just like that, Namjoon is already turning back into the Indigo parking lot, where your car sits waiting for you. The two of you shrug off your seatbelts once he’s pulled into a space and parked, and he reaches to turn down the music before shifting in his seat to get a better look at you.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “You are officially no longer my employee.”

“And you are no longer my boss,” you answer back, and a thrill buzzes in your chest at the statement.

“Which means,” he continues, doing his best to lean over the center console, “I can do this.” He barely finishes getting the words out before his mouth is on yours, your eyes fluttering closed, his kisses far less chaste than the ones you shared earlier. They’re open-mouthed and urgent this time, with Namjoon slipping his tongue into the heat of your mouth like he’s been waiting all night for it.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur between kisses, and then he dips his head lower, until his lips find the join of your neck and shoulder.

“And this,” he purrs before kissing you just as hungrily there, tongue-first. You can’t hold back the soft noise his mouth pulls out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he sucks gently over the same spot, with just enough pressure to make you writhe in your seat. A shiver rolls up your spine when he hums against your skin, clearly pleased at your reaction.

“And, uh…” You slowly blink your eyes open when you feel the warmth of his breath dissipate, and he’s looking at you with his brow furrowed, as if attempting some difficult mental math. “Actually—” He reaches down for the lever to adjust his seat, and it drops all the way back with a graceless thud that makes a laugh flutter out of you. “Maybe you could take your jacket off and come over here?”

You don’t need him to ask you twice, and you’re moving quickly as you peel out of the thick material and scramble across the console to straddle him. You both groan a little when you duck down to press your mouth to his again, all of this suddenly feeling much more real now that you’re basically horizontal. His hands alight on your hips, tentative, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, and you smile against his lips.

“Touch me, Joon,” you instruct, and he does as he’s told.

His hands are warm as he slips them beneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your skin until he reaches the band of your bra. When you hum encouragingly into his mouth, he keeps going, pushing the fabric up your chest so your tits spill free from their confinement. He cups one in each hand, and though you might’ve expected him to be clumsy or rough, given everything you’ve seen of him thus far, you’re surprised to instead find that he’s gentle, thumbs circling your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to tighten them into stiff peaks.

Unable to bite back your whimper at the heat that blossoms through you at his touch, at how much more of him you need, you pull away just enough to break your kiss, glancing up through the back window of his car to confirm the parking lot is still empty.

Namjoon groans low in his throat when you reach down to tug up the hem of your shirt, shifting a little on top of him to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate, thumb still working at one nipple while he takes the other into his mouth, and your sigh of relief comes edged with a soft moan when he swirls his tongue over the bud of your breast.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Feels so fucking good.”

He pulls off with a wet pop to switch sides, and the slick heat of his mouth sends bolt after bolt of arousal through you until there’s a dull ache of need thudding between your legs. As you roll your hips in desperate search of friction, you can feel him beneath you, straining hard against the fabric of his jeans.

Namjoon pulls his mouth off your breast, letting out a hoarse laugh when you shift to drop your forehead against his collarbone with a groan, horny enough to practically be delirious. “I hate that I’m even saying this,” he rasps, “but I really can’t have sex in a car. I’m too—”

“Big?” you offer, and there’s a smile on his lips as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I was going to say old.”

You can’t help giggling as you lean up to find his mouth with yours again. Namjoon kisses you a little while longer, lazily, his hands still kneading gently at your tits, until he finally tips his head back, heaving a sigh up to the roof of his car. “Okay, okay. You should go.” His tone is reluctant, like it’s the last thing he wants. “It’s late. And my jeans fucking hurt.”

There’s a self-satisfied smirk toying at your mouth as you sit up, tugging your bra and shirt back into place and not missing the bulge in Namjoon’s pants where your hips meet his. “I will take the blame for that one.”

He folds his hands behind his head, biceps and dimples on full display. “Damn straight.”

You lean down for one more kiss, letting it linger before you make your way back over the center console to retrieve your jacket. “Have a good night, Joon,” you murmur as you reach for the door handle, and when you glance back, his eyes are fixed on you, still heavy-lidded with lust.

“Get home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I have booze, as promised.” Namjoon’s voice echoes in from the kitchen as you kick off your boots and hang your coat up at his front door come Christmas Eve. The aroma hits your nose as your socked feet pad down the hall to follow him: the spice of cinnamon and clove, paired with a hint of citrus. It smells like the holidays, like home.

“Mulled wine?” you wager a guess, and he nods, turning away from the stove to retrieve two mugs from a cabinet.

“I halved the recipe, since it’s just us,” he explains, mouth pulling down at the corners as he starts to ladle out servings from the pot full of deep red liquid. “Still made a lot, though.”

Your eyes drift across the kitchen until they land on the two empty bottles of red sitting next to the sink, and that makes you pause for a moment to consider. “So the original recipe called for four bottles?”

Namjoon’s brow is furrowed when he glances up, and then he follows your gaze, and a look of delayed understanding washes over him. “Oh, fuck.”

Your elbows dig into the kitchen island as you press your hands to your mouth, as if to physically hold in your laughter. “Did you… halve everything in the recipe except the wine?”

His eyes drop closed as he nods, his answer a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yes, I did.”

You can’t help yourself: all at once, you’re circling around to join Namjoon behind the stove, so you can take his face in your hands and pull his mouth down to yours. He makes a soft noise of surprise, but then his lips fall into rhythm, kissing you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Even through the fabric of your shirt, his large hands are warm when they slide over the small of your back, and then they keep going, until you finally break the kiss with another laugh when he reaches his final target and outright grabs your ass.

“Not the reaction I anticipated,” Namjoon admits, paired with a teasing squeeze. “But I’ll take it.”

You look up at him through your lashes, pressing your palms flat to the firm plane of his chest. “A very wise friend of mine once told me that the holidays aren’t about every little thing going perfect. I thought maybe you needed a reminder.”

His dimples deepen as his eyes search yours, and his voice is lower in his throat when he responds. “I think that fool was just sayin’ words because a pretty girl asked him a question.”

Heat flushes your face as you smile back. “Well, they were very good words.” You drop your gaze to the pot on the stove. “Come on, I bet we can salvage this.”

Determined to save Christmas, you throw in another handful of spices, chased with a few glugs from a bottle of orange juice Namjoon heroically digs out of the back of the fridge. After a few more minutes of simmering, you take a tentative sip of the mixture to find it perfectly adequate.

“I guess we just have to drink twice as much now,” Namjoon quips, filling up two fresh mugs with the remedied wine. You raise an eyebrow back at him, as if to accept the challenge, while you tap your drinks together in a cheers.

By the time you realize that a double-batch of mulled wine and gift-wrapping don’t exactly go together, it’s already too late. The booze makes Namjoon’s big hands go even clumsier, the few presents he attempts an absolute disaster, and you can’t stop laughing long enough to be of any help. At one point he reaches up to cup your jaw for a kiss, but completely misjudges the distance, deftly knocking into his half-drunk mug and spilling the contents all over a tube of wrapping paper and the crotch of your jeans.

You dissolve into giggles until you can scarcely breathe, scooting your chair a few inches back from the table as he jumps up to grab something to soak up the mess. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you manage to gasp when he returns, immediately focused on cleaning you up first. You wave him away as you get to your feet. “Seriously, it’s not that bad, it’s mostly the table.”

“Jesus,” Namjoon groans as he drops the kitchen towels in his hands onto the wooden surface, doing his best to soak up the puddle, though there’s no saving the ruined gift-wrap.

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur as he turns back, once again examining the extent of the damage done to your clothes. A shiver rolls through you as his thumb brushes over the waistband of your jeans, and he grimaces a little.

“This is probably gonna stain.”

“I mean…” Your pulse starts to quicken as his fingertips linger where they are, and Namjoon’s gaze flits up to meet yours when you speak, clearly hearing a shift in your tone of voice. “I could just… take them off.”

A smile teases at the corner of your mouth when his eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then seems to self-correct. “I mean, uh. If-if that’s something you would feel comfortable doing.”

You’re already reaching to undo the button, and then Namjoon takes over to tug open the zipper and push the fabric down your legs, and your nipples tighten beneath your bra at the reminder of how gentle his large hands can be. His lips find yours again and you don’t hesitate to lick into his mouth, jostling slightly as you try to make out with him and kick your pants the rest of the way off at the same time. It’s graceless, but you manage to make it work, and then he pulls away from you to glance back down.

“It looks like a little got on your shirt, too.”

He’s right, you realize: there are faint purple marks splattered just above the hem of your long-sleeve, and you smirk as you look up at him.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you did this on purpose,” you tease, and then in one swift move you pull your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the kitchen floor next to your discarded jeans.

Namjoon’s hands are instantly on your bare skin, trailing heat as they trace the curve from your hip to your waist, and your breath hitches as he ducks down to brush his lips over your collarbone. The low tone of his voice reverberates through you when he speaks against your skin. “I like to think I could’ve gotten you naked tonight even without being an accident-prone idiot.”

You run a hand along the line of his jaw, tipping his head up to seek a kiss, before leaning back to murmur, “I guess we’ll never know.”

He kisses you again, and the two of you stumble across the threshold into the living room, pausing along the way to peel off his sweater and then his jeans, laughing into each other’s mouths, just drunk enough to lack any semblance of coordination you might have otherwise had.

When you drop down to lay back on his sofa, you’re both stripped to your underwear, and you can feel the thick bulge of him, pressing firm-heavy heat into your thigh as he settles his hips between your spread legs.

Namjoon’s eyes roam over your body beneath him, and then he’s tugging the lace of your panties to the side to slip a finger into your drenched center, beckoning it up to rub you just right. Your mouth drops open as he traces slow circles against your front wall, and when he adds a second digit, you can’t help but whimper softly at the stretch. It thrums through you like your lingering red wine buzz, hot and thick and good enough to get lost in, your head dropping back on the couch cushions as your hips rock up into his touch.

“Goddamn,” Namjoon groans, and your eyes flutter open again to take him in, his gaze heavy-lidded as he watches his fingers disappear up into you, coaxing slick sounds out with each pump of his hand. “I had a whole plan,” he rasps. “To take my time. But, fuck, I really want to fuck you.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you breathe, not sure how much longer you could stand the torturous feeling of his clothed cock grinding into your thigh, so close to where you want him. An ache throbs in your cunt, needy, plugged up with two fingers but still begging for more. “Just fuck me.”

Realization flashes over his face, and then he suddenly heaves a sigh, looking defeated. You have to bite back a noise at the loss as he withdraws his fingers. “I— there’s an obvious joke here, but. I don’t have any condoms. Or if I do, they’re definitely expired.”

It takes you a second to process the revelation, and then you reach up to pull him down to you, smiling when he hums surprise into your mouth at the unexpected response. Your lips linger on his, and then you tip your head to press a kiss to the slope of his neck, not quite able to maintain eye contact as you murmur, “I mean. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. So.”

“Yeah?” he replies, and your nose bumps against his shoulder as you nod. “Me too. Well, I-I’m clean, I mean. I’m not on the pill.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as you look up at him. “Right, no, I get it.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon huffs a laugh in return, his face flushing a little. “I talk a lot, when I’m nervous.”

“I just thought it was an all-the-time thing,” you admit, and the color in his cheeks deepens.

“I’m just always nervous around you.”

Your mouth seeks his out for a kiss sweeter than the last, slower for his shy honesty and the hummingbird thrum of your heartbeat behind your ribs. The heat of his breath ghosts over your lips when you tip back to answer, “You don’t have to be.”

“So, you’re okay?” he asks, almost reverent with his question. “If we—if I don’t—”

“Please,” you insist, and it’s all the encouragement he needs.

With remarkably little fumbling, he drags the lace of your panties down your legs, letting you kick them the rest of the way off while he moves up to unclasp your bra. You slip the straps off your shoulders and drop it over the edge of the couch, then watch as he shifts to strip out of his boxers, freeing his cock with enough force that it smacks against his abdomen with a hefty thud.

You swallow hard as you take him in: long and thick, flushed dark. Big, and fuck, you want all of him; you can feel how drenched you already are between your legs at the thought of all that cock filling you up.

When you tear your gaze away to meet his, Namjoon is staring at you just as hungrily, and he brings a hand to pump himself a few times, to coat his shaft in the wetness that’s started to drool from the head of his dick.

“Come here,” he grunts, his voice rough-edged, and you waste no time straddling yourself over his hips.

Given his considerable size, you figured it might take you a second to adjust, but you want him so bad, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is all white-hot pleasure. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself down on him, inch by overwhelming inch, until your ass is flush with thighs.

Namjoon’s head drops back against the couch as you slowly grind your hips into him, his hands gripping at your waist to guide the movement. You can’t help the soft sound that flutters out of you: he just looks so good like this, white-blonde hair swept off his forehead, beads of sweat trailing down his temples and glistening at his collarbones, his parted lips full and kiss-bitten.

“Baby,” he groans as you start to move a little more intentionally. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long. Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me,” you breathe, and you close a hand over one of his, guiding him down to your clit. 

Just like the night before in his car, his touch is so gentle when he begins to trace circles into the sensitive nub with his thumb. You can feel the slow-hum build of an orgasm in your core, drawn up by the steady rub of his hand, and you lean back to allow him better access, bracing yourself on his thighs as you rock along his length.

A moan rips through you as the new angle drags the head of his dick just right against your front wall, and it’s good enough to make your eyes roll back. Chasing the feeling, you shove your hips down harder, driving his cock into that spot over and over until your thighs have started to tremble.

“That’s it,” Namjoon grunts encouragingly, his voice husky. “Use me, baby. Look so good when you bounce on my cock like that.”

The words set every last one of your nerve endings alight, and you dig your nails into his skin as your spine arches from the pleasure. His thumb is still working steadily at your clit, and the heavy stretch of his cock has you so wet, you can feel arousal starting to leak down your thighs. Your pussy clings to him like a vice, a throbbing-tight heat, taking him to the hilt every time.

“Oh my god, Joon,” you groan, “I’m gonna come.”

His touch doesn’t let up, and you can feel yourself teetering right on the precipice of it, only able to manage little gasps as you drop yourself down onto his cock again and again and again, with enough force that there’s an audible sound of your skin slapping against his.

Your legs are outright shaking from the effort now, from how close you are, and then Namjoon ducks his head, using his free hand to guide your tit into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue laved across the tight bud of your nipple is just what you need to push you over the edge.

With a moan that’s more like a sob, you drop forward against Namjoon’s chest, sinking all the way down to bury him in your pulsing cunt as you come. He continues to rub you through the waves of your orgasm, breathing ragged in your ear while your pussy gushes around him, until you grab his wrist with a soft whimper of overstimulation, and he relents.

Too gone to get any words out, all you can do is take his face in your hands and kiss him. He rolls his tongue over yours, decadent, as his palms slip down to cup your ass. You groan a little into his mouth when he begins to shift you, your cunt still fluttering-sensitive at every little motion, but he manages to maneuver you onto your back while still keeping himself sheathed in you.

His hands move to your thighs, encouraging your legs to hook over his hips, and his mouth trails kisses down the valley between your breasts before he breathes against your skin, “Can I keep going?”

“Please,” you murmur, and it’s chased with a moan when he starts to rock his hips into you. You feel so full, so swollen from your climax that it’s like your walls were molded to take him, the crown of his cock stroking deep-deep over the place that lights you up inside, shooting sparks of pleasure all the way down to your toes.

Namjoon’s breath stutters on a laugh. “Shit, I’m already close.”

You tilt up to brush your lips against his, humming encouragingly into his mouth, and then he pulls back again, one dimple teasing at the corner of his smile. “God, I— wanna hear you say it.”

Somehow, you know exactly what he means. “Come in me, Joon,” you beg, fucked so good that you’re shameless for it, and you gasp when he bottoms out in you with his next thrust. “Fill me up. Fuck me full of your cum, baby, please.”

It’s like the words send him into overdrive, and he practically growls as he starts to fuck his cock into you forcefully, hard enough to make your tits bounce. Each snap of his hips punches a heady groan from your lungs, and you reach up to drag your nails across the skin of his back as he chases his own end.

“Gonna fucking— give it to you,” he hisses, rolling his hips one, two, three more times, and then you feel his cock twitching, shoved in as deep as you can take him. He heaves a final strangled groan as he comes, rope after rope of his release pumping into you to paint your walls, until you can feel it beginning to spill back down your thighs.

You kiss through the comedown, inhaling shaky breaths into each other’s mouths, your bodies still fitted together like puzzle pieces, sweat starting to cool in the places where skin is pressed to skin. Namjoon finally moves first, giving a grunt of effort as he rolls off the couch, and you throw an arm over your face while the world slowly settles into focus around you.

When he returns, it’s with a towel in hand, and you can’t help smiling as he cleans you up, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone in tandem.

His voice is soft, too, when he finally speaks. “Will you stay here tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your forearms to look at him, and a little glimmer of something lights up in your chest that you can’t ignore. The first spark of an ember, just enough to reignite a flame you’d long since believed to be entirely extinguished. But now he’s shown you: it doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to be alone.

“Of course. We still have presents to wrap,” you say simply, and he huffs a laugh as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Joon?” you murmur into the crook of his neck, unable to keep your voice entirely steady.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For the magic.”

[lambilegs]

I've been thinking about this for too long!!! What do u think lee would be like as a girl mom?

girl mom!lee headcanons 😭🙏🏽

AHHHHHH girl mom!lee is actually gonna make me sob and scream -- wrote this in the perspective of lee being reader's wife and them having a daughter <33

♥♡∞: 💓｡.｡ 🎀｡.✨｡:∞🌷♡♥

when your guys' daughter was a baby, lee loved quiet nights with her. she'd hold her to her chest, mouth flashing a rare smile as your daughter's cute mouth opens in her state of drowsiness. lee would hum to her, stroking the tuff of hair on her head and her small back, just relishing in the calm moment with her

definitely had to learn how to manage getting overstimulated and overwhelmed with all the crying and things to keep up with

sometimes, you'll just catch her watching your daughter in fascination. like, she'll be sound asleep in her crib, or on her back on the bed, and lee is just perched over, or lying on her side, watching her quietly. her fingers will stroke your baby's tiny hands, and a small smile will curl at her lips when her daughter grips onto one

SUPER protective. lord don't even THINK of messing with this woman's daughter. lee isn't big on social interactions, but if, for example, someone is bullying her kid, she's immediately getting shit done to solve it, heading straight to her daughter's teacher, and if needed, even getting in contact with the parents of the bully in question. she might fumble a bit, and feel quite uncomfortable, needing a sec, but once she settles into the conversation, she's calmly asserting what she thinks needs to be done

learns to take better care of herself through her daughter. lee's not always the best at validating her own feelings, or keeping track of things like consistent meals and sleeping well. but, through trying her best to constantly assure and comfort her daughter about her emotions, and trying to stick to structured routine with the kid, it helps her regard and address her own emotions in a better way, as well as take care of herself by also following the routine she sets for her daughter. plus, she wants to be a good example, and she doesn't her daughter following her bad habits

read a shit on of parenting books prior to the kid, since as usual, her solution to her stress over the future's uncertainty was to do extensive research and planning

doing hobbies and hangouts with her daughter really heals her inner child :''') growing up, she spent a lot of time alone due to ruth's work, and as ruth became more distant, hazy, pressing about religion, as well as kept expanding on her hoarding, lee just became all the more closed off. she doesn't want her child to go through what she did. she wants her child to feel that lee is a present figure in her life, even though it gets hard sometimes with intense and active cases in the bureau. she also wants her child to feel listened to, and not pushed to do anything, whether that be a belief system, or accept a behaviour of lee's that she doesn't like and/or feels hurt by. she wants her daughter to have a say. and through giving this love, affection and attentiveness to her daughter, lee feels that even if she didn't get those things, at least she gets to give them to her kid. it also helps her realize ways in which she was neglected throughout her childhood, which sometimes results in her feeling overwhelmed after hanging with your guys' daughter, crying softly into your chest about it

she's literally so awkward with children, and it's def something she worried about at first, for she was scared that that she wouldn't connect well with her daughter. as a baby, sure, it was easy -- your kid didn't talk, so lee got to be as quiet as she wanted LMFAO. sometimes, if she was in a mood to ponder about something that happened in her day, or even discuss a case, she'd quietly talk to your baby about it. when you discovered this habit, you were totally endeared (duh), but also mildly concerned about lee discussing cases. she had just shrugged and said, "what? I don't give any details about them."

but, of course, things get a bit more tough when your daughter is getting older and begins to crave conversation. lee doesn't want her feeling neglected or ignored, so she tries her best to respond and ask questions. she just struggles a bit to communicate with someone so much younger, but she has good intentions at heart -- she finds it genuinely fascinating to witness your daughter growing up and developing interests, hobbies and personality traits. she loves seeing the little human she's turning into, and always feels herself growing fonder and fonder everyday of her child

and c'mon, your daughter is more than enamoured with her mom, lee. she knows lee is quiet, but lee's constant efforts are more than enough assurance of her determination to do right by and care for your kid, who totally feels it. she knows lee will give into anything she asks for hehe, as well as the fact that she can bring up anything with lee. anything hurting her, anything at all -- she knows lee will always listen and do her best to help

you totally find it attractive just how good lee is with your guys' daughter ofc, and you can't help but always take pride in the fact that this woman you chose, the mom to your daughter, is the kindest you could've asked for

[youremyheaven]

I need some advice. I feel like I'm dying. Going through the worst period cramps ever (never had this in the past 11 years), it literally feels like someone is stabbing my cervix, uterine walls and the pathway walls (I feel a bit shy calling it what it is...like a normal woman). Its so bad, I've never had it like this before. Has to do with the fact I was having isues, doc put me on meds, as soon as the dosage was done: red sea spilleth over.

Know any home remedies to help? Or just any other advice to deal with this? Can't go to the doc rn, she'll suggest to hold off pain meds, I am taking over the counter anti-inflammatory stuff..yk the one for fevers and other pains. Its not working. Its been so debilitating...I can't sleep, sit, breathe, do anything...yk the type of pain that makes you bend and make your mouth water...idk if that happens to anyone else but yeah....

OMGGG 😩😨😨😓that sounds soooo rough, I hope you're feeling better now???

I have taken meftal spas for cramps since I was maybe 16-17 years old. Idk if that's available in other parts of the world??? but its widely available in India and its specifically for period cramp induced pain<333 I'm not a doctor so pls don't take any medication without exercising caution first!!! you may not react well to it or it may have adverse effects bc of the medication you're already taking ://// 😩😩

on that note, practicing yin yoga (which focuses on releasing stress from the hip area/psoas muscles) has greatly changed my reproductive system as a whole tbh, my sex drive changed, my relationship with my body changed (like even the way i walk changed bc my hips loosened up, which meant i walked more "freely" dont tell me its woowoo,, yk can just tell when someone's body is very "frozen" or "stiff" looking) and yesss my menstrual cycle was immensely affected by it.

i used to have HORRIBLE cramps, irregular cycles, HEAVY bleeding etc in my mid-late teens (this was because of trauma + eating disorder, in case u wanted to know) and now? my period is 3 days long, light bleeding, little to no pain and i attribute alllll of that to yoga<3

now i specifically like to do certain mudras and asanas (poses) which are supposed to help the female body specifically

and while this can help u when u are on your period, i suggest making it part of your lifestyle and living according to your monthly cycle's phases so that you can experience smoother periods. i dont think its realistic to do them if you're experiencing immense pain 😭

Legs-Up-The-Wall Pose (Viparita Karani)

This pose is known for increasing blood flow to the pelvic region which helps enhance the health of your reproductive organs.

2. Baddha konasana aka butterfly pose

helps the uterus<333

3. balasana or child's pose

tbh this might actually help even if ur ON your period, lying down like this is soooo soothing and comforting. ppl overcomplicate yoga, when the reality is that holding your body in certain poses can emotionally feel very comforting/freeing/nourishing etc but then again im only familiar with yin yoga/restorative yoga (there are manyyyy different types of yoga)

4. happy baby pose

as the name suggests this is how babies lay down and they seem happy for no reason,, i remember the first time i consciously did this pose and i was like???? this is yoga??? bc i would randomly do poses like these for no reason in bed (im sure we all do when we're bored) and if i intentionally do it?? its actually good for me??

again this pose helps with the hip muscles!!! the female body is always preparing for childbirth. regardless of whether or not you want to be a mom, taking care of your womb health and reproductive well being is CRUCIAL bc whether we like it or not we were designed this way and dont think of it as "preparing my body to bear children" just think of it as "preparing my body to be at its best" (the bearing kids is just a bonus) .. the state of your womb affects your whole being!!! its not a joke!!!

now here's some mudras:

yoni mudra

yoni means womb and as u can see, this pose imitates the 🫣🫣 its a highly beneficial mudra for women and helps with overall pelvic health. you can do it sitting cross legged. i like to chant mantras and do this pose,, it kicks in quicker or smthng idk 😳but it feels ✨

2. prana mudra

do this mudra on both hands btw!!

prana means life force

this mudra helps with overall immunity and pain management!!!

3. prithvi mudra

prithvi means earth and this mudra helps balance the earth element in your energetic system which means its gives you strength, resilience and physical energy (in case u feel tired, fatigued etc for no reason) as those are the qualities of the earth

now for some pranayamas

Bhramari/ honeybee buzzing

this is my fav bc its so simple and easy to do!! and who doesn't want to buzz like a bee??? 🥰😍

2. anulom vilom

this is also a very simple pranayam for beginners

the whole idea is to get your body into a state of relaxation so that you dont operate from a place of stress or anxiety. you can just feel peaceful all the time. imagine being that unbothered!!

sorry for going off on a tangent (me with every post lmao) these are some beginner friendly yoga asanas/mudras/pranayamas (all of which are diff components of yoga) that u can try when u feel comfortable!!

NOW about alleviating pain ASAP:

hot water bag

put that thing on ur stomach and lie down (after taking medicine) my mom used to do this all the time and it helped her a lot

2. roobois tea

i drink roobois tea almost everyday hehe but its said to help alleviate menstrual cramps 🤔and lower blood pressure,,

3. chamomile tea

is also said to help with period pain :o

4. look into your diet, sleep, overall lifestyle

you may not have had pain of this sort before but babe NOW UR A WOMAN ✨and u have to look at your lifestyle and ensure that its something that helps a woman's body feel rested and calm

being stressed all the time can take a physical toll on you and lead to all kinds of diseases later in life!! its in your best interest to RELAX

idk how much this helped 😭😭the most convenient thing to do would be to take medicine but u said u can't so :((( hot water bag + roobois tea???

ALSOOOO always wear socks during your period and keep your feet covered. i have sensitive feet so i wear socks at home often (this is uncommon in india, where we have a tropical climate lmao) BUT KEEP THOSE FEET COVERED,, there's some kind of science behind it but i dont remember it lmao,, all i know is that it makes me bleed less<333 and have more cozy periods and sleep better<33

ALSOOOO,, this could be an old wives tale but it worked for me (but im also delusional😍) eating dark chocolate and/or having a spoon of oil on day 1 of your period makes your period go smoothly?? 😭😭😭there's no harm in trying hehe

ALSOOO and ive never tried this but heating up like a tablespoon of oil and applying it to the bellybutton area 😳😳can help alleviate period pain 😳😳

lastly and most importantly, im just a girlblogger and NOT A MEDICAL EXPERT so pls dont put urself in an adverse position bc of something i said 😭😭😭

love always,

heaven ✨

[nikatyler]

Zeph 1.0

can't believe that yesterday i was like eh i'm not sure about that armor, it looks so good on them

(x)

oooh a pretty evil lady!

(x)

same girl, same, about everything that has ever happened to me

(x)

it's been 84 years (more like 16 hours) but i'm finally opening bg3 again ✨

i think i'll do some more goblin camp shenanigans today if possible 👀

ohhh right. essentially i've already murdered like half the goblin camp so now the other half of the camp is trying to murder me, huh?

Me: "ah yes I'm far enough" *the explosion hits Zeph and Zeph dies* *reloads* "ah yes now I'm definitely far enough" *the explosion hits Zeph again and Zeph dies again*

"yeah we've got this" *the entire party dies*

Fucking gnolls man

yeah it's been a long bloody day

HELLO SAY THAT AGAIN

hUH

jesus christ this man is h🫣rny

Okay so I'll go watch a baking show with my mum in a bit and then we're going back and doing da thing 😏

Sorry for not giving updates if you were looking forward to them, anyway a little thing I love is how everyone sleeps on their back. I do that and apparently that's weird to everyone around me? 😂🤨

I will literally be in my bed like 🧍‍♂️

(x)

newest development in my bg3-rotten brain

did i mention this game is doing things to me because it is doing things to me

(x)

Anywayyyy you know what time it is 😌

I may have just spent an hour organizing everyone's inventories and figuring out who gets what armor and all but we're good to go now I think

Explosive shrooms, yay 🤩

(x)

I'm 💀💀💀 I need to go to bed lmao

Okay so basically what happened um. I don't know how but it did. So I wanted to help Astarion. But I clicked the wrong thing. And I pushed him off the boat. And he died.

I RELOADED BUT HOW DID I EVEN DO THAT 😭😭

If there's one thing about me it's that I'll accidentally murder my favourite vampires

(x)

I love Zeph so much they're so prettyyyyyy

Kinda wanna make a modern day version of them in ts4 and have them interact with my other characters. They'd fit right in

(x)

hole hehe. hole

(x)

my bi ass is having a bit of a dilemma rn

(x)

gay gay gay they're in love your honor

HELL YEAH KISS

(x)

Raw footage of me during my latest combat

I was actually so stressed dude 😭 thankfully we made it through but ahhhhh

Does anyone else apologize to the characters when they get hurt? Like sorry lil guy in my computer I'm sorry I'm putting you through this I promise you'll make it out I PROMISE ah fuck you're getting hit again oh no sorry sorry ahhhh

So uh. The adamantine forge fight huh. 🙂

(x)

Granted it doesn't count ts4 correctly rn probably because I haven't updated yet but…yeah 😅😅

(also I have way more hours on ts4 actually, this is just since Jan 2023, I played through Origin/EA app before and then switched to Steam for reasons)

(x)

my fucking thoughts exactly, i hate this battle 😭😭 on a real note i relate to him so much when he's whining DUDE WE LIVE

i should've known he wouldn't take that as a good thing lmaoooooo dude creases when you smile is the biggest compliment smh

FREN!!!

(x)

oops

(x)

I'm sorry what

(x)

pwettyyyyy

(x)

I'm sensing that I may have messed up real bad in Last Light Inn yesterday...ooops

I should've reloaded to see if things could turn out differently but I've done a lot afterwards, idk if I wanna go back now 😂 No spoilers pls, that's something for me to figure out in my next playthrough

"ooops" people DIED 💀 people i had previously saved died 💀

(x)

You're never gonna believe who I murdered again

(x)

I'm fucking crying I need you to resurrect him you moron stop shaming Zeph for having a sex life Update we are so back lads

(x)

Funny how fast I went from "I think Zeph is mostly good, they just want to get rid of the parasite and help people along the way" to "actually fuck it darling you're so right some power would be nice"

(x)

Crying laughing sending this to my sibling who's in art school. On point

(x)

"eh we'll be fine i don't need bonuses" *rolls 1*

(x)

daddy Ketheric omg💀💀

(x)

uh anyway

(x)

this is the best they are the best 🥹

(x)

Don't be upset, I will reload, just don't be upset with me pleaseeee 😭

The "please a videogame vampire at all costs" disease is real I'm afraid

(x)

Uh oh it's almost 3am, tomorrow will be an eepy day, well it's worth it

(x)

I'm so close to having a funny number of hours played 🤭

(x)

Killed the workout, now let's kill this guy that I struggled with for half an hour. Almost killed my whole party in the process so I quit and decided to kill my legs instead 😂

(x)

[causenessus]

hey lovely !! how has your day been? have you eaten yet? i hope u have or i will have no choice but to somehow cyber pop out of your screen and take care of you (threateningly)(but also not threateningly because i wanna make sure you’re taking care of yourself) but !! anyways today i had this vietnamese dish called banh cuon and it was very MMMMM and and I HAD MANGO STICKY RICE🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 (me living up to my anon name) idk why i just love love love mango like they’re so in season right now and so ripe so YUMMY AHHH

also omg i had a dream last night that someone was impersonating me like sending in anons with -mango anon <3 and i was literally like thinking damn. because in that situation what do i do like just fight it out with some rando LOL i was honestly stunned because one part of my brain i was like damn. but the other part of my brain was like WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DO WHAT IF THEY SAY SOMETHING AND FRAMED ME WHAT DO I DO so literally when i jolted awake i checked your blog then i was like oh haha everything is okay mango anon you’re safe… just a silly little dream silly silly little dream

also !!! TRY AGAIN CHAPTER WAS SO GOOD !! u need to stop doubting your writing because everytime i read the new chapters im like oh wow this is literally a masterpiece everytime its such a hit like you always release 10/10 chapters with the occasional OH WOW 10/10 CHAPTERS but then i read your notes saying that it wasn’t that good or it was rushed and im like WDYM NESS i’m here like kicking my feet or gasping or twirling my hair u need to have more faith in urself !!!

but anyways i’m yapping again greatest apologies LOL but i hope ur day is going well !! make sure u take care of urself >:( drink water and eat well !! xoxoxo

HELLO MANGO ANON MY LOVE!!!! <3 please do not cyber pop out of my screen!!! but i have to tell u something </3333 i worked a closing shift today at my job yk 😭😭😭 and i was walking out (at like 9:30 pm) and realized something and was like "omg mango anon is gonna kill me" bc what i realized was that besides a little tiny lemonade i hadn't eaten anything since 12pm </33 BUT DW I JUST ATE!!!! AND I'M USUALLY BETTER ABOUT THAT I JUST ALWAYS GET MESSED UP ON DAYS I WORK BUT IT'S OKAY I AM TAKING CARE OF MYSELF!!! AND I WILL CONTINUE TO AS LONG AS YOU'RE TAKING CARE OF YOURELF!!

also BAHN CUON RAHHHH!!!!!! MANGO ANON U AND ME ARE ONE IN THE SAME I LOVE VIETNAMESE FOOD AND I LOVE THAT YOU HAD MANGO STICKY RICE AGAIN TODAY!!! I HOPE IT WAS GOOD AND I LOVE THAT UR LIVING UP TO UR NAME <33 EAT ALL THE MANGOS YOU CAN BEFORE SUMMER GOES BY!!

I LAUGHED SO HARD AT YOUR DREAM I'M SORRY I HOPE THAT'S OKAY 😭😭😭 I GUESS WE'RE ALL JUST HAVING CRAZY DREAMS LATELY??? BECAUSE I'VE BEEN HAVING WHACK DREAMS EVERYDAY BUT I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD SLEEP TONIGHT MANGO ANON <3 I AM WARDING OFF THE BAD DREAMS AND MANGO ANON IMPOSTERS!! in all honesty i mean this positively but i feel like you have a voice!! yk?? like i can recognize your messages and manner of speaking if that makes sense??? /pos and so if an imposter came on here i think i would call it out!! and be like "ur sounding a little weird today....mango anon 🤨" and if u sent an ask being like "THERE'S AN IMPOSTER!!!" (among us ptsd flashbacks omg i'm sorry) I WOULD TOTALLY BELIEVE YOU AND I AM CONFIDENT I'D BE ABLE TO DETERMINE WHO THE REAL MANGO ANON WAS 😭😭😭 WHAT IS THIS PARAGRAPH I'M WRITING I'M SORRY WE'RE BOTH YAPPING BUT WE CAN YAP TOGETHER IT'S OKAY!!

AAA I'LL TRY TO MAKE THE REST OF THIS SHORT BUT THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR SAYING THAT ABOUT TRY AGAIN <333 IT HONESTLY MADE ME FEEL SO MUCH BETTER ABOUT IT!! AND I WILL BE MORE CONFIDENT IN MY WRITING NOW KNOWING WHAT YOU THINK <3 I LOVE U SM THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I LOVE YOUR YAPPING AND YOU ARE WONDERFUL AS ALWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT MANGO ANON!!! <3333 make sure u eat and drink lots of water too!! and get lots of sleep <3

[sp4rrowdoll]

Another request before i sleep, i hope I'm not bothering you💀😭

BUT! this is your post to share any headcanons about literally anyone from dol😌 just a space for you to put stuff youve been thinking about but not knowing where to organise your thoughts. Hit me with anything abt anything bro let's fucking GO

(and i ask this just before heading to bed so goodnight😩🤌)

You are not bothering me at all!!! I love getting asks and requests, and getting to write for people, it's genuinely really helpful and inspiring. Gimme all the asks! I want them all!! Sometimes I do sit on them a bit though, they need to incubate. Marinate, if you will, for maximum flavor and tenderness.

Alrighty, headcanon time. I've got some headcanons for both Bailey and Mason. (Mason is fantastic and I love them so much) Bailey:

Bailey was a good person once. 

Not anymore, certainly—that ship sailed a long fuckin’ time ago, and he doesn’t even bother to pretend that he wants what’s best for the orphans under his care, regardless of age—they aren’t quite livestock to him, but they’re close. When he’s doing the accounting for the orphanage, the younger ones are labeled “investments,” and the ones that have hit eighteen are moved into the “assets” list. It’s cold and brutal of him, and he knows it. But that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? No matter what he does, he knows it’s immoral as shit, that it’s fucked up and evil of him, and he keeps doing it anyway. 

He wouldn’t call himself tormented about his actions, or his lifestyle, but something has him showing up to the hookah parlor regularly, huffing sweet smoke and doing his best to forget.

He wasn’t born here. Sometimes he wishes that he was, so the effects of the town didn’t hit him like a fucking truck, unwinding all of the baser impulses he’d stashed away and accumulated over the years. And sometimes he’s glad he wasn’t, because he still has at least some control over himself, and he’s sharper than the rest of the idiots trying and failing to run the place. There was a point in time where he’d wanted to be a good person. When he’d gotten a degree in developmental psyche, and was bright eyed and pursuing the advertisements in the local paper. When he’d seen a job opening in a small town that he’d never heard of before, for a caretaker at an orphanage, and something inside him had compelled him to take it, even though the pay was shit.

Sometimes he feels like two different people stuffed into the same skin suit, and the person that he used to be is clawing at the edges of his mind, begging to be let out. That’s when he sighs, rolls back his ostentatious leather-backed office chair from his desk, and heads down to Barb Street.

He needs another pipe. Mason:

Mason is a virgin. 

He has no idea how he managed to get past his twenty-first birthday in this town without having been forced to have—intercourse—with someone, and maybe it’s the fact that he can’t even think about sex without flushing like it’s his very first health class, and maybe it's the fact that he’s been swimming since before he could walk. His parents were big on physical fitness, before they—he still doesn’t know exactly what happened to them. Maybe they died, maybe they left, he doesn’t know and he can’t quite remember. He can’t muster up any feelings of regret or abandonment, so at least there’s that. They must have told him where they were going, or he must have known what happened to them, but he just can’t remember, no matter how hard he tries.

He thinks about teaching a self-defense class sometimes. God knows there’s plenty of kids—he doesn’t know why he calls them kids, they’re barely that much younger than he is—in this town who could use them. And then he spends all day getting leered at by them, and he remembers exactly why he doesn’t do that.

At least the lake is always there for him. It’s the only place in this town where he feels like he can breathe. Even if it’s raining and the sheets of water from above and below surround him, and there’s barely any air at all. It’s like flying. 

It’s like freedom.

[yakultii]

insomnia is something i used to struggle with a lot, especially in my later teens, when i had very poor mental health.

here are some things i've learned/tried:

using melatonin in the short term: a natural human hormone which can be taken as a supplement, often to alleviate jet lag. i prefer 300 mcg doses, since i will be drowsy for hours after waking up with the ones that are ~17+ larger; should only be taken to correct circadian rhythm, not as a sleeping pill

cold exposure: according to anecdotal research, the ideal ambient air temperature for sleep is ~18.33 C (65 F); however, a lot of factors can influence your core temperature, namely use of sheets/blankets, and thickness of clothing. if possible, adjust the air temperature and minimize use of covers.

physical activity: sleep is fundamental for recovery, yet if there is a lack of accumulated fatigue, it can almost feel like you're just decaying away in your sleep. there are numerous benefits to exercise, and many forms of it, as well. i would recommend nature walks, personally, in addition to climbing and swimming.

isolating factors to recreate a cave: i learned this from a book; in the strategies they mention to 'energize,' gradually reducing the amount of light in the room, wearing earplugs for sound isolation, and making a resolution to avoid electronic devices late at night are all things you can work towards.

mouth tape: nasal breathing is one of the most vital parts of healthy human function i've found in the past year. pranayama (yogic breathing) has a lengthy existence, and is definitely worth looking into. however, when you sleep, the autonomic nervous system takes over; i've experimented with a lot of different things, but i've found micropore surgical tape is cheap and effective for mouth taping (along with nose strips you can purchase from amazon, or perhaps your local pharmacy).

habits/routines: one of my favorite books is Atomic Habits by James Clear, which has become very popular since my first read. it mentions the key to creating a positive identity is repeating all the actions you do intentionally, which lead into the ones you eventually perform subconsciously. sometimes, we get caught in a spiral of all the things we have to do that we don't make time for our health. even just one good thing compounded every day for a year will dramatically improve your quality of life.

naps: best performed within a midday timeframe - i've loved long naps in the past, but i have also been stuck staring at my ceiling for hours because i couldn't sleep from very long naps earlier in the day. despite that, there's a lot of napping schedules which are worth a try, like 'everyman' and 'siesta.'

there's likely a lot of things i missed, which i will omit because it would take me a ridiculous amount of time to remember; we need sleep, but interestingly, most people don't desire it - one of the feelings i would love to share with everyone is the bliss of waking up from an uninterrupted night of sleep.

tl;dr: many small healthy habits will build up to improve your sleep quality. environmental design is paramount, as you need an environment conducive to sleep. sleep is predicated on the need to recover from fatigue, so exercise is almost a necessity for quality rest. try sleep aids like earplugs, blindfolds, and nose strips if you can't isolate every environmental factor!

wow I appreciate this so much but unfortunately my insomnia is chronic since birth and anything u can think of has been attempted hahahaa melatonin has no affect on me - I have prescribed literal sedatives instead which would knock most ppl the fk out but only sometimes help for me if I time everything perfectly 😂😂😭 last night I was able to sleep though I just was in a lot of physical pain making it a lot harder but I got to sleep eventually thank god! I WISH I had the ability to take naps dude!!! but sadly I very rarely can 😫 I appreciate this message regardless I’m sure it will be helpful to someone!!!!💗

[internetgremlin-writes]

girl, u started posting things for Christmas and then just went missing 😭😭😭 what happened to you??? is everything okay?

Hello I'm okay I promise!

Yeah that one was on me for thinking a December writing challenge would be a fun little thing I could do in the evenings whilst on an ICU hospital rotation 🙃 long story short it was super busy in the department and I stayed late pretty much every night and then had to do the keeping the human alive things and study for quiz time at rounds with the specialist each morning so I literally did nothing but study, eat and sleep for the whole month and I just didn't get a second to relax or write 😭

It has been CRAZY since the start of December!! I had a week off for Christmas and then I was travelling again for more placement, I've been applying to jobs and my finals are in 4 months time (which sounds like a while but I have 5 years of content to review and full time rotations in the day). Have also been lowkey seeing a new guy so that's been taking up a lil bit of headspace too 😶

I've also decided 2023 has got to be the year I decide to grow up and get my shit together before I enter the real world and honestly who knew meal plans and food shopping and working out took so much time!? Not me.

As the guys who've been here for a while know, I'm never gone forever!! I'm gonna need a couple more weeks to get through a round of job interviews, finalise my revision plan, survive an equine hospital rotation and get settled in a healthier routine, then I'm planning on making a partial return once I've got a bit more control over things and I can afford a bit of a break from all of this, but I won't be back online and posting regular-regular until the end of May after my exams

The good news is I'm taking two months properly off in the summer so you can bet your assess that's going to be a project finishing marathon!!

The Christmas fics are going on pause and will be re-released next year (I know, I suck, I'm so sorry for letting you all down) and I'm going to finish Flat Spin and Obvious by September and hopefully work through my request pile as we go from now onwards to keep me in the writing mindset

Anyway, I love and miss you guys like mad! I'm shocked by how much attention this blog is getting even when I'm not posting and I promise once I've got my real life together I will be back. In the meantime keep rereading and sending stuff in, I love hearing from you all!! <3

[aberooski]

fanfic asks: 22, 30, 49 💫

Oh yay! Thank you for the asks! 💜

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

This is an interesting one because honestly I don't have any specific point in the process where it happens. Titles just kinda find their way to me whenever they want. Sometimes I'm struck with inspiration early on in the writing process or even before I even come up with an idea, but I like the title so much I have to come up with a fic for it, or I'll have a fic completed and be struggling and fighting tooth and nail with my brain to come up with something to call it 🤭 let me pull a few quick examples from my pantheon!

Once Upon A Duelist, that one came super easily to me. Of course that fic being a Sleeping Beauty au, having the play on Once Upon A Dream was pretty simple to think of but I digress, it was an easy one to title.

Sons of The Stars on the other hand, that one I was ruminating and formulating titles for throughout the whole process and getting nowhere for the longest time. Angel's Tears was like that too when I wrote it back in the day. (Tbh in the market for a new title for that one, I used to love it but recently I've liked it a lot less)

And my Final Fantasy XV fic What Goes In. That one was super easy because I took it from a line of dialog that Gladio has in one of the cutscenes that was actually written into the fic.

And Sustained by Hate is the title of a song from Final Fantasy XIII and well the cutscene it plays in in the game is the scene involves a child trying to murder a man because he blames him for his mother's death, so 😬 but the title was very relevant because the only thing keeping Camula's soul together and keeping her from being assimilated into oblivion was her hatred of Jaden and desire for revenge, so she was quite literally sustained by hate. I actually borrowed or was inspired by a lot of titles from that game's songs and story chapters for the chapters in the fic too aksksk

I take a lot of inspiration from songs for both fic titles and chapter titles, ever since I was a kid writing shitty fics in actual physical journals. But I also sometimes just try to think of something relevant from my own brain aksksk

So yeah they just kinda find me whenever they want to, I don't really have any specific point in time where I come up with titles. But that honestly can be the hardest part of the entire process for me if they don't come to me early on in the process.

30. How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

This one's easy actually, I usually wait until the end and go back and do it all at once. Mostly because just about every fic I've written in the last like 5 years has been for the YGOBB so I've been writing on a time crunch for a long time and I'm a slow writer so I never had the time to spend editing as I go. I'd wait until the rough draft was done and turned in and then go back and edit after.

Now I've been going back and even editing and revising those fics again because honestly I don't think I did a very good job the first time. But I'm less horrified when I read my old fics now so that's good 😭

I do find myself going back and editing as I go more now than I used to, especially since I'm stepping back from YGOBB this year and taking a break from that. Love the event, but I think all my fics have suffered from the time crunch and I always burn out having to push myself to pump out my fics so yeah need that break.

But generally I do write a fic all the way out before I'll start editing so I can focus on one thing at a time. Get the foundation first and then build upon it. 👍

49. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

Oh boy this one's actually a very hard question for me 😅

When I think about it I'm kinda tempted to say Sustained by Hate (abby's version)(from the vault)

It's a multi chapter fic which is my forte, it's in universe which I don't often do in my long fics, the concept is entirely plausible with Camula being brought back and wanting revenge for her defeat, it works in a lot of my little touches and portrayals of the characters

Dad Crowler, Hassleberry’s leg being an issue for him a lot, Alexis being protective of Atticus like to the max, Jaden going out of his way to try and protect the squad but specifically Sy, Bastion playing the role of team mom, Chazz and Atty's relationship period, and you even get some of my quirks and inner workings of my mind with Mrs. Rhodes and Mrs. Princeton hanging out on the sidelines

Also the blatant, very thinly veiled Little Mermaid reference of a plotline..... I mean c'mon the chapter is literally called Poor, Unfortunate Soul 😭

I also actually wrote a duel and that was really hard and I'm very proud of myself and everyone should be impressed 😭

Anyways that one is very me, there's so much in that fic that's very authentic to me and I think it's probably the best intro to me and my writing in terms of the long fics.

One shots, Salt In The Wound. No question. Maybe when I go back and edit that one A Friend In Need would be good too, and Traffic Lights is pretty good but again SITW is so authentically me as a Syrus stan/kin who has major beef with Zane.

I'd love to say OUAD, you know I would. But that's my magnum opus man, if that's your introduction you've set the bar pretty damn high 😭

And Sons of The Stars, as much as I demand everyone in the universe read it because I worked harder on that fic than anything I've ever written in my life, that is NOT a starter fic. It's 136k. And a whole ass built from the ground up au. And honestly draws on a lot of stuff in season 3 and there's a couple subtle nods to other works in it so it's not a starter at all. That's one to read after you've read a couple aksksk

So yeah, if you want a quality starter fic, Sustained by Hate is probably the way to go I think.

Angel's Tears or What Goes In wouldn’t be bad either if you wanted to see the progression of my work from high school to now. Even with the revisions I've done to both of those fics in the last couple months, in my opinion you can still tell I originally wrote them when I was like 18 years old.

But I legitimately think Sustained by Hate and Salt In The Wound would probably the best options depending on which length of fics you like to read.

Thanks again for the asks, these are so fun!!

☆ Abby ☆

[dollkichi]

dust is a threat to national security! and it's made up of like 70% fecal matter like it's literally the shit of dust mites which are little bugs that live in your sheets. in fact, i have an expensive ass anti dust mite duvet because it was still cheaper than getting medicine for my allergies every month. blue is my second favourite colour after red, but it used to be my favourite. at one point in time i had around fifty shades of blue memorised purely to show other people that i was a bigger fan of blue than they were. (i am a very competitive person) i like staring at people do ordinary everyday things. humans are so cute. what's funny about my earbuds is that they're wired but wireless at the same time. they're wired to each other but function on Bluetooth. i find that funny. Fourth Wing is about a girl going to a college that prepares you for war, aptly named 'War College'. it has forced subpar romance and i hate that. the writing is also mediocre. the worldbuilding and idea is pretty good, but alas, it was doomed from the start with all the forced sexual tension. there's one line that goes, and i quote,

"*You are not attracted to toxic men* I remind myself, and yet, here I am, attracted."

what the actual fuck. why do i put myself through this. i should never gotten past the beauty (chef's kiss) of a masterpiece that was Life of Pi...

the tea was delicious! on roblox i mainly play dress to impress and doors, although i sometimes play tower defence simulator when forced by my brother. i don't play roblox a lot, but for some reason i'm picking it back up in the past few days with all the long roblox sessions. my roblox username is also cringe as hell because i made it when i was like, five 😭

my mom got free soap from her friend who runs a soap shop so i reaped the benefits. one is a regular long rectangle and dark pink, wrapped in a blue ribbon, and it smells vaguely rosey. the second is small and in the shape of a rose, in a bright pink colour. it very strongly smells rosey. the third is medium sized and has a cream coloured base with a translucent honey coloured top in the shape of a flower. it smells like orange. honestly i just bought the nightlights because they looked cool, i've never been one to use them. losing chargers is so relatable though- poor bunny nigjtlight :(

now my doll is stuck in the dark at night!~

</3

my nightlight is a Zhongli figure and my favourite genshin character is most definitely my love and light of my life Arlecchino <3

(although when Pantalone comes out its going to be him because THAT MAN IS SO PRETTY AUGHH I'M DEAD ON MY KNEES.)

-👤

SORRY FOR LATE REPLY, I WAS SLEEPING

WHAT. Dust mites are menaces and need to go. Blue and red are both very nice colors!! Memorizing 50 shades is kinda crazy though… but anything to prove that you are indeed the biggest blue fan. Being competitive over silly stuff like that is so real. Why are your earbuds like that. Why are they wired and wireless, that is so strange. GIGGLING AT WAR COLLEGE, what a creative name!! It kinda sounds like they were trying to appeal to booktok with all the forced romance and sexual tension. That’s a shame it does that tho when the idea and wordbuilding are good :(

What is Life of Pi about and would you recommend it?

I’m gonna steal your tea. I haven’t played a lot of dress to impress but I do like doors! I’m super excited for floor 2 to come out since the trailer released. There’s a game similar to doors actually that I’ve been playing, it’s called pressure. It’s well made and extremely fun! Anyways, we should totally play sometime. I wouldn’t mind playing dress to impress as long as you’re there. My username is cringe too so don’t worry… I changed it in a 2020 phase </3

Your soaps in the picture are so so pretty!! I am going 2 steal those too, mine now. I kinda wanna eat them. They look like they’d be good. They definitely sound like they smell good!!

OLD MAN NIGHTLIGHT?!?!?! Omg. Aside from being old, Zhongli is cool. Not my favorite character but also not a bad one. I love Arlecchino’s design!! She is soo pretty. She was super interesting too in the story. I’m excited to see what Pantalone is like when he comes out, he definitely is also pretty. I like his glasses and hair. I’ve always been a Venti fan since I first started playing back in 2020. I do really like Childe and Freminet + his siblings though too. I need to pick up genshin again… lost my 50/50 on Furina’s banner and I was like “I don’t wanna play anymore”, ehehe ^^;

[lambilegs]

girlllll i've been stalking your blog all night and all i have to say is: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE KEEP WRITING !!! you have some serious talent for real.

also you're the one to blame for my new obsession with lee like omg i want her so bad????? some lee x chubby reader would actually kill me 😵‍💫 i love her so much she would be absolutely obsessed with her plus-sized gf

lee harker x plus-sized!reader headcanons

(ANON ILY FOR THIS REQUEST!! 😭🙏🏽 as a certified Thick Girl™ myself, this truly made me so giddy and simpy to write. I was truly having the time of my life. guys this is your sign to please request any other plus-sized!reader scenarios/ideas you have in mind. ALSO BAEEEE THANK YOU SO MUCH omg that seriously means the world to me, thank you so so much for the compliments ahhh 🥺 please stalk away HAHA)

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡ ✩ 🎀°.❀⋆⸜ 🌷

will one hundred percent steal your clothes -- she loves looser fitting clothes in general when she wants to be comfy, and the fact that these ones smell like you? literally heaven

on days when you can't sleep over, she'll probably sleep in your shirts or hoodies (no she will never admit this to you)

SOOOO GRABBY I CANNOT EXAGGERATE

when you guys are sitting next to each other, her hand is always gripping your thigh and just smoothing over the skin or gently squeezing, especially if she's anxious and/or antsy

she also loves laying her head on your thighs or tummy. if you're sitting on the couch and she needs a break from the case she's working on, she'll just lay down and rest her head on your stomach. if she's on her back, you get shy because you keep catching her staring up at you, eyes soft and warm in the dim lighting, the wisp of a smile on her face

she'll sometimes lightly joke, quietly musing, "this is a nice view," staring RIGHT up at your tits (this earn her a flick on the forehead)

and if you're lying down, she'll sometimes get on her stomach between your thighs and rest her head on your tummy, nuzzling and giving aimless, soft kisses on the skin. when you buck up because her mouth or strands of her hair are tickling you, she'll just smile lightly and mumble, "sorry"

was probably the hugest fucking loser before y'all dated, always trying to not check you out, feeling like it'd be disrespectful or impolite to do so. but, god, would it be hard, because she'd be getting the most vivid sexual images sometimes 😭 like, you sit next to her, and since her eyes are usually pointed down, she immediately take notice of how your thighs widen. suddenly, she's imagining those thighs wrapped around her face or hips, and her eyes literally widen in response to such a thought DKSJKS poor baby once literally started coughing from shock and you had to get her water

if you bend over in front of her when you guys are just friends (whether it's an accident or to purposely tease her hehe), she would be blinking SO hard, forcing her eyes away and just finding some spot on the wall, willing her brain to just focus on it LMFAOOOO probably internally repeating the mantra of, "don't look, she's your friend, just focus on that painting. look at the colours, look at the shapes"

if you guys ever go shopping together as friends, and you put on something that hugs your curves just right, her eyes are just skittering all over, trying to force herself to not linger on any one part for too long. she eventually just gives up and stares at the ground, nodding and saying, "mm, looks good"

again, convinced she loves when she can see the outline of your tummy through a skirt or your jeans. like, it probably genuinely drives her insane, to see a hint of your shape like that, knowing that if she were to just slip one article of clothing off, it'd be exposed. the entire hinting of it would have her so wanting, just aching to kiss you through that fabric

nsfw cut:

one hundred percent pushes her faces into your tits when you ride her, just aimlessly sucking and kissing them

LOVESSSS reverse cowgirl omg those big hands of hers will be gripping and kneading at your ass, small groans leaving her lips from how it jiggles when smacking against her thighs

when you guys start dating, after she's eaten you out a few times, she one day shyly requests post-coitus, as you guys are cuddling in bed and intertwining your fingers together, "one day... could you sit on my face?" (listen she wants it too bad to not ask, but also has no idea how to subtly go about such a request)

she'd be a fucking mess when it happens. just moaning and lapping so desperately at your wet pussy as your ass and thighs completely engulf her. she'd be on cloud nine being totally surrounded by the feeling of your skin, your softness, your scent

convinced she has a thing for love handles and would be grabbing them so hard when fucking you with her strap. she's just on her knees while you're laid out and spread in front of her, and she's just drilling in there, hands tight and relentless on your hips in order to keep you anchored. she'd look so hot in that position too, just gritting her teeth and clenching her jaw as she watches you fall apart. oh yeah and she totally leaves fingerprints -- honestly, she probably also sucks marks into your hips, loving the idea of claiming you in such a private spot

[post-office-by-the-bay]

hi covey!!!!

i havent been able to respond and interact with all ur posts since im not home atm but im sitting in hotel room bed writing this rn so! i have found my way to your other account tho😈 so im gonna write a little rant i hope you dont mind (even tho thats kinda what the account is made for, i still feel weird doing it!!) so feel free to ignore i just reallt want rant!

also wanna start it off by saying i hope youve been doing well and the college stress isnt affecting you too much!!

okiiii so anyway its my birthday tofay 😜😜 and for my bday weekend we went to chicago since its pretty close to where i live and i thiight it would be fun but sometjkng about me is just that i hate being away from home like idk i just love my room so idk why i wanted to do thid for my bday but ANYWAY.

friday and saturday were oretty fun even tho its so cold out but ive had an overall good time! the obly downside is my DAD bro. i dont think hes ever experienced true happiness in hus life bc if any tiny bad thing happens he gets so MAD and for NO REASON. i try to stay happy but its literally such a mood killer like how am i supoosed to enjoy my time wjen ur over here bitching and complaing about not getting the corner booth like. get over pls shut up i wanna be happy.

and then today i thoight we were gonna go to this museum and then meet up with my brither to go to the sears/willis tower but it got completely changed and i was so confused and we didnt do anytbing k wanted to do that day. like i wanted kbbq as my bday dinner like it was the MAIN reason i wanted to go to chicaho but they switched uo and said it was too far away. like okay then… im like fine whatever just choose some place else bc idk what i want and i dont wanna decide and THEY KEPT ASKING ME AND BOTHERING ME LIKE PLS LEAVE ME ALONE. and then we were just walking around everywhere trying to fund a place to eat and i was getting annoyed so i just said olay i wanna go here, AND THEY JUSR GO SOMEWHERE ELSE EVEN THO THEY WERE ASKING ME WHERE I WANTED TO GO??? pls.. jusg make up ur mind. and then when we finally got to a place bc i was like yall im tired lets just go to fresking shake shack they starting bitching about the prices and i get we dont have a lot of money but it just made me feel so guilty??

anyway i felt way better bc me and my cousin started making fun of my dad so i felt 10x #wcousin😇

now im in the hotel room listening to my dad snore SO FREAKING LOUF LIKE HOW AM I GONNA SLEEP.

OKAY IM SO SORRY FOR WRITING SO MUCH LIKE YOU DO NOT HAVE TO RESD ALL THIS COVEY OMG

TLDR; birthday was rlly my dads rlly whiny but im chill now!

have a good day/night covey sorry writing so much😭😭

-🐌

beloved snail anon,

do not feel bad for ranting!! that's the whole point of this blog!! we just need to ignore the fact that i ignored it for so long lmao.

first and foremost, HAPPIEST OF (late) BIRTHDAYS TO YOU!! I KNOW YOUR DAD WAS BEING A BIT OF A BUMMER (kill all men) BUT YOU DESERVED TO HAVE THE BESTEST DAY AND IM SORRY HE TRIED TO TAKE THAT AWAY.

my dad is, from the sound of it, very similar to your dad. and i've grown to kinda just throw it back at him. it took years of warming up to it, but now i just treat him the way he treats us and he shuts up real real quick, ya know?? anyways, im so so sorry that he was being sucky (again kill all men) and you totally didn't deserve that!! wishing you a better birthday for next year!!

all my love,

covey 𐙚⊹ ࣪ ˖

[orchidyoonkook]

hey yoonieee !! how are you today ? hope you have/had an amazing day just like you 🫶🫶 make sure you grab something yummy and warm to eat (it's so cold wtf 😭), hydrate and take good care of yourself 💕💕

long time no talk (i swear i half forgot this app even exists and half been working on a book 😭) had a great day today. i somehow managed to sleep till like 1pm, stay in bed for another 3 hours i think and then cleaned my living room floor just to get it dirty again like 10 mins later 😭 then i just chilled around before baking FOR 3 FUCKING HOURS (had to do 34 cupcakes for our christmas fair tomorrow at school (also i may or may not just simply skipped school today...)) but i'm happy that christmas break is finally here cuz i've had a crazy af week. i missed a test last week and i've been shaking in my boots cuz i wasn't sure if i had to take it this week (and believe me when i say i'm absolutely shit at this class 😭). but this week has been amazing. i had a simulation of an exam on tuesday and it was so funny cuz the whole class was really really nervous before (even tho they don't write the marks) and after it like half of the class started dancing 😭

btw sorry for the long paragraph 😭 i wanted to text you i think two days ago but as i was writing the message i accidentally opened a notification so the text got deleted and i was so tired (pretty sure it was like 5 am) so i said fuck it and that i will text you the next day. i've seen you haven't been feeling the best so i really hope you're feeling better and that you're doing good 💕💕 also again no pressure in responding just make sure you take care of yourself 🫶🫶

-✨

Hi Baby Star!

i suck cuz this is from dec 21 but i didnt have a computer for 2 weeks and then work and this is me getting on a personal computer for the first time since Dec 19th to finally answer this!!

SO:

long time no talk (i swear i half forgot this app even exists and half been working on a book 😭)

That's okay!! I was barely online in general those few weeks so I feel ya

had a great day today. i somehow managed to sleep till like 1pm, stay in bed for another 3 hours i think and then cleaned my living room floor just to get it dirty again like 10 mins later 😭 then i just chilled around before baking FOR 3 FUCKING HOURS (had to do 34 cupcakes for our christmas fair tomorrow at school (also i may or may not just simply skipped school today...))

omg im so happy you'd had a good day!! with so much sleep and rest time???!!! that sounds PERFECT <<<3333 And then you even got some cleaning AND baking done??? Star you're kicking so much butt im so proud!!!

(34 cupcakes is insane but i just KNOW your house smelled amazing!!! and one skipped day is fine that late into the semester as long as it didn't interfere with exams imo)

but i'm happy that christmas break is finally here cuz i've had a crazy af week. i missed a test last week and i've been shaking in my boots cuz i wasn't sure if i had to take it this week (and believe me when i say i'm absolutely shit at this class 😭).

Me too!! I was so looking forward to the break! I hope yours was super good! Please let me know how you did on your exam!! I bet you knocked it out of the park! But even if you didnt, it wont make or break anything.

but this week has been amazing. i had a simulation of an exam on tuesday and it was so funny cuz the whole class was really really nervous before (even tho they don't write the marks) and after it like half of the class started dancing 😭

YAYAYAY!!! literally so happy so extremely happy your week was so good. That makes my heart so full because you deserve your weeks to be good!

Duuuuuuuude!!! dance party after exams???? Helllllllllls yes. that sounds amazing!

btw sorry for the long paragraph 😭 i wanted to text you i think two days ago but as i was writing the message i accidentally opened a notification so the text got deleted and i was so tired (pretty sure it was like 5 am) so i said fuck it and that i will text you the next day.

that is perfectly alright! I adore hearing from you whenever you are able to manage, and I promise to try and get better at answering your asks a little faster now that I have the computer back!

i've seen you haven't been feeling the best so i really hope you're feeling better and that you're doing good 💕💕 also again no pressure in responding just make sure you take care of yourself 🫶🫶

I'm better!! Still a little stressed cuz things keep adding up, but I'm also slowly crossing things off the list! And I absolutely will respond! Just maybe not in the timeliest manner sometimes 😅

I'll take care of myself <3