#yes social media is annoying as hell but I can’t leave it I have friends on here. plz understand (sick)

[pekodaiz]

i forgot abt posting here

[bisluthq]

To thrive in the industry, you need to have a thick skin and be able to tolerate some unusual behavior without complaining. I don't think Chappell will be able to handle it. While it's important to set boundaries with overly enthusiastic fans, in cases like the red carpet you need to learn to ignore it and not react.

especially since it was NOT directed at her? Like I say lol idk where you guys live but I’ve heard some pretty crazy shit in public transport and if randos are yelling I… don’t like decide to enter the group chat? If someone had yelled something directly nasty to her or even hard to misconstrue as not about her then I get saying something but like if people are noisily arguing in a noisy place it seems a little weird to get involved.

still strongly feel that most of the people bashing her are like… mean and rude and nasty for no reason but I guess that’s also the nature of the internet. Also do feel like this was kind of weird behavior and I’m still not into her REPEATEDLY cancelling her shows for more exposure opportunities. I totally get her calling out invasive fans though, that’s fair lol like idk people in public aren’t commodities right so don’t be creepy and weird. If it seems like it’d be appropriate to say hi, fine but also accept that they might not be in the mood?

idk I was talking about this to my friend in a kind of different context (not Chappell’s thing) and she said she thinks about it as like bothering any professional off duty. If you’re in the hospital, you have a right to demand the doctors and nurses like… treat you. If you’re in a school, you have a right to demand the teachers teach and provide feedback and shit to you/your kids. If you’re in a restaurant, you have a right to demand the kitchen staff cook for you and the wait staff serve you tbh. You still needn’t be a cunt in any of those places but also you 100% have a right to demand that they do their jobs.

Flipside, if you see your doctor (or even someone you know is a doctor) out at the grocery store and start hassling them to look at your weird toe thing or you see your child’s teacher in a public place and hassle them for feedback (or try fob your kids off on them lol - hasn’t happened to me personally with my students because I teach big kids but I was in a group of teachers at like a sunset concert once and this mum of one of the Year One kids my friend taught asked if she could leave the kids with her while her and her husband go get merch and snacks and my friend said yes but I was fucking annoyed right and if I’d been her I’d have said hell fucking no lady, I’m not at work, but also that’s why I don’t teach Year One) that’s imo SUPER uncool. Even if you’re friends with the people right like my doctor friend is okay with me asking a medical question if I legit can’t go to the doctor for whatever reason or to find out if I should but she has had to draw the boundary of me continuing to hassle her with questions like “is this the right medication/what are the alternatives/is this the way this should be clearing up” etc. Also I know chefs often get asked to cook for friends lol.

And like… it’s awesome if you want to do that and it’s kind and it’s sweet. I actually do always hang out with kids (not the very little ones because I don’t like those but closer to the age I teach) at social functions where they’re bored without even being asked and like find shit for them to do. But that’s my choice then, right? Like I’m offering to continue doing my job in my time off.

So as a fan (and actually as members of the media too) you have a right to demand artists do their jobs at concerts, meet and greets, signings, and yes at events they choose to attend. Because that’s their job, not a fun hobby anymore.

Chappell’s correct in that she needn’t be a pop star when she’s not working and if she wants to be she can but she REALLY doesn’t have to be. However, to me Chappell seems a little unclear on what’s her off time (that she’s 100000% entitled to and can regulate fully in terms of boundaries) and what’s her workie turkey time, where she has to 1) show up 2) do her job 3) suck up the kinda bullshit bits lol same as all of us 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is team not okay for the perilla leaf debate.

> fluff / wc: 1.6k

> warnings: kinda suggestive at the end ? you’ll see ehehe

note: watching this the other day made me laugh so much but also made me so miserable because jungkook is the jealous type of boyfriend of course he is what do i do with this information but to write a drabble to calm myself down but i don’t think it fucking worked i just want to scream into a void forever. enjoy :]

—

“just how many times do you need to watch it?” jungkook whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pulling your body closer by the waist.

his warm breath tickling your skin only makes you giggle much harder, clutching your phone tighter in one hand in fear of it falling on your face (not a good experience. -10/10). the other is too busy with playing with his fluffy hair, as it usually is almost every night in bed. his head was resting on your arm forty minutes ago, but he inched closer and closer to your neck the further you got into watching their recently uploaded content on youtube.

your boyfriend is dedicating his time, energy, efforts, talents — hell, his whole being to his job. and with all your heart, you love and respect him immensely.

you wait until the very end of the award shows to watch the performances the group has prepared for weeks, and months, prior. (ah, he’s always so excited for your reaction. so much so he refrains from giving you spoilers about the songs and concepts because he wants to surprise you, too.) you watch the interviews and praise him for perfectly saying the answers he practiced with you. and yes, you do randomly watch bangtan bombs and his reaction to tasting a lemon donut is ingrained in your brain for life.

a defeated sigh. and yes, you are secretly longing to watch run bts every tuesday again, but you don’t tell him that yet.

today, you find yourself having fun watching the group explore their mbti types. personally, you don’t think the theory should be relied on too much because humans are way too complex to be categorized by a few letters, but you still find it fun and interesting. it opens up discussions and shows the fascinating differences of the people sitting in the room, which happened exactly in the two episodes.

you love seeing different sides of jungkook. just like how there are sides of jungkook that come out only when he’s with you, there are also sides of him that only come out when he’s interacting with other people. therefore, you still discover new things about your boyfriend everyday.

the jungkook in the bonus clip discussing the famous perilla leaf controversy, however, is the jungkook you know all too well.

“they can’t help . . . no. just no.”

“so basically, would it annoy you or not?”

“of course it would.”

you see, his unwavering opinion on the topic sounds awfully similar to a particular someone’s reaction from a few months ago.

—

“hey babe, have you heard of the perilla leaf debate?” you casually asked jungkook one lazy afternoon while scrolling through your phone, your head laying on his lap. he was leaning against the headboard on the edge of the bed, while your body horizontally occupied the rest of the space. this is your usual position when you feel like doing nothing at all.

“huh?” he tore his attention away from the television to clear his confusion, lowering the volume as he spoke. “a debate about perilla leaf? is it like mintcho and pineapples on pizza?”

“no, no. the debate isn’t about the perilla leaf exactly.” you started explaining to him, still scrolling through the comments that read different opinions of bored social media users. “okay so, the scenario is we go out to eat with one of your friends. and then your friend struggles with separating perilla leaves, so i help them do it. is that okay with you or not?”

it was quiet for a few seconds as he processed the made-up scenario that was causing a huge commotion in the internet.

until his thick busan satoori echoed in the room. “ey, no. of course not!”

you turned into a fit of giggles, looking up to see his reaction. his eyes were furrowed and his lips formed a frown. chest puffed up and doe eyes extra big. he looked aghast almost. as if it was ridiculous to ask such an obvious question with an obvious answer. judging only by the look on his face, you could already see the stream of thoughts swimming around his brain.

ah, yes, this is jungkook we’re talking about. of course not!

“i’m your boyfriend. not them. you should only be taking care of me like that. do you even know how giddy i was when you peeled perilla leaf for me the first time? and when you peeled shrimp for me even though you don’t like seafood because of the smell?” he rambled on frustratedly, eyes getting wider and wider as he explained to you his reasons. he slightly stuttered because of his lisp, which you always find so endearing that it makes your heart ache.

you chuckled lightheartedly after hearing his years old confessions, the happiest grin plastered on your face.

“oh, my baby. that made you happy?”

you sat up and turned to face him, hands wrapping around his forearm to tug him closer to you. you held his face in your hands and gave him honey kisses all over as he spoke with his eyelids fluttered shut, savoring the affection he was being showered with while still adamant on getting his point across.

“of course it did. it feels intimate to me. just like the first time we shared a straw. those are all the same to me! they led to us being in a longterm relationship, see?”

“peeling perilla leaves is the same as sharing a straw?” you tilted your head in curiosity, waiting for him to answer.

a pout formed on his lips, jungkook feeling disappointed with your question. “when you peel perilla leaves, you use your chopsticks, don’t you?”

“oooh, right. i see it now.” you made a sound of realization, the puzzle pieces coming together in your head.

“what about you? is it okay if i do it for your friend?” he raised an eyebrow quizically, arms encircling your waist to make you sit on his lap.

you blinked at him, shaking your head slowly. “they’re an adult. either separate them on your own or just not eat perilla leaf at all.”

his expression softened at your answer. “hah, that’s true. you got a point there.” he nodded his head repeatedly in agreement, eyes darting to the televison.

it was quiet for a minute with you putting your focus back on your respective screens— until he looked at you again with glassy eyes like a kicked puppy. “i’m an adult too. but you’d still do it for me, right?”

you looked up from your phone and smiled at him, pinching his soft cheek. “of course, that’s what lovers are for.”

—

which brings you back to the present day.

“they peel off one perilla leaf. next thing you know, they’re holding hands. and fall in love! and they end up getting married!”

the plot jungkook laid out to his friends sounds awfully similar to the summary of your love story in his head. oh lord, of course, it’s not okay for him.

you’re almost crying from laughter, body vibrating against his hold. his shirtless body is radiating natural warmth, so you kick off the thick blanket to let yourself breathe.

“another thing that’s funny? namjoon said at the start that he didn’t care at all but he started to get angry by the end and agreed with you.”

“tch, see? i even got our leader to agree with me. i totally made sense.” he says cheekily, clicking his tongue proudly.

“you were so cute being all sulky though!”

“stooop. i’ve had enough teasing about it.” he pouts, resting his forehead on your cheek as he secretly takes a peek at the screen. voices talking over each other and laughter in the background escape from the phone’s speaker.

he saw himself bowing down with a marker in hand, and he remembers that he was randomly doodling again as the heated discussion took place. his head was somewhere else, though. he was thinking about you.

his thumb brushes against the skin of your hip as he feels the rhythmic rise of your stomach. a thought crosses his mind like an arrow released by careless hands. i’m thankful for this life.

“i’m not teasing you, baby. i’m just adoring you. the best boyfriend.” you coo, fingers softly brushing the row of earrings on his ear. he shivers at the touch. “mhmm, your piercings look so cool.”

“should i get more? i want to.” the praise instantly makes him perk up.

“more? i’ll start to feel bad for your ears.”

“not my ears. somewhere new.” he chuckles, adjusting his position to lay his head on your chest.

he can feel your heartbeat against his cheek, and somehow, it also makes him aware of his own. while there is the mind numbing adrenaline of performing on stage that makes him feel alive, there is also the tranquility of being alone with you that makes him hyperaware of his body — from the guts in his stomach all the way to the tips of his fingers. both can be overwhelming, but welcomed with open arms. and embraced tightly with the eternal refusal of letting go.

“somewhere new likeeee?”

he rolls down to lie on his back again, pointing at his toned abdomen. “belly piercing?”

you look at his abs. and then his face. and then his abs again. god? this isn’t the guy i was calling cute just a minute ago.

“do you want me to go insane?”

—

taglist! @lolalee24 @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @i9hyuck @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @yoonqki @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

[ppersonna]

my only wish - knj | m

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

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

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

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

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

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

There are few things you hate most in this world. 

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

 But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things: 

 Christmas. 

 And Kim Namjoon. 

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

 And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yes, Mr. Kim?”

 “I’ve got a case for you.”

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

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

 “I know you won’t let me down.”

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

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

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

 Personal Injury Suit.

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

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

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

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

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

 He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

 “I know, babe. I know.”

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

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

 “Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

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

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

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

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

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

 “I am her grandchild, Mom.”

 She’s silent for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

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

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

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

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

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

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

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

 “Fuck.”

 He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces. 

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

 There’s Jennie, his ex.

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

 His last hookup, Jihoo?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “God, Jimin, come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yeah? The IT guy?”

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

 He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

 “You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

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

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

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

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

 “How's the new computer?”

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

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

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

 That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “I have my own coffee.”

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

 “Looks fancy.”

 You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

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

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

 “Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Fuck off.”

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

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

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

 “I need a favor.”

 “No.” Your answer is quick.

 Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

 “You haven’t even heard it yet!”

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

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

 “You’ve got to help me. Please.”

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

 “Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

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

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

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

 Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

 “You—You what?!”

 Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

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

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

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

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

 Well, his fake girlfriend.

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

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

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

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

 Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

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

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

 “How d'you know about them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 With an aggravated sigh, you relent. 

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

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

 “Deal?” He murmurs.

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

 “Deal.”

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

  Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

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

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

 Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

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

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

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

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

 “Then tell me, what was the deal?”

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

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

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

 “Wow,” he breathes.

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

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

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

 “Shut up!” You cry.

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

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

 Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

 “Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

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

 Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

 “Oh. Yes, I did.”

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

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

 “Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

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

 “I… might have forgotten to ask.”

 Your mouth drops open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Jimin kicks at your foot again. 

 “Stop talking,” he grumbles.

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

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

 “Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jimin, I swear to God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yes. Call Yoongi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Even if it is... well, fake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino. 

 “I got you a fresh one.”

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

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

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

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

 Namjoon settles his cup down.

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

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

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

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

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

 He stifles a laugh.

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

 With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

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

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

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

 You level a look.

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

 Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

 “I meant after that.”

 You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

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

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

 A scowl comes over your face.

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

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

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

 He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Already?!”

 “We’re burning daylight, baby.”

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

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

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

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

 “No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

 You roll your eyes and grimace.

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

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

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

 Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

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

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

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

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

 Why do things feel so easy with him?

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

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

 It’s confusing.

 It’s amazing.

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

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

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

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

 It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once. 

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

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

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

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

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

 Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

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

 You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

 “Fuck you, Namjoon.”

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

 “In due time, my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Ugh. Unbelievable.

 Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

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

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

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

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

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

 And then it will be over.

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

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

 Nothing more.

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

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

 Fuck.

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

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

 “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

 Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

 “Missed you too, eomma.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Because this is all fake. 

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

 “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

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

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

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

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

 Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Fuck.

 “Here we are!” 

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

 “Wow,” is all you can muster.

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

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

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

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

 “This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

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

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

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

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

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

 “Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

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

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

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

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

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

 An absolute vision.

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

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

“So do you.”

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

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

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

 “Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

 “Knock Knock!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “It’s alright. Let’s go?”

 Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

 “Let’s go, girlfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

 Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

 And sharing a bed is another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

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

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

“What?! Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

 Namjoon barks a laugh.

 “My what?”

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

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

 “Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

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

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

 Namjoon smirks.

 “And the Nespresso?”

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

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

 He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

 “Goodnight,” he whispers.

 “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

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

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

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

 “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

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

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

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

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

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

 “Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yeah.”

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

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

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

 This is all too much, it’s too real.

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

 The tears don’t stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 He’s proposing.

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

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

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

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

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

 There’s no way you can recover from this.

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

 “____, will you marry me?”

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

 Oh, how you wish this were all real.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

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

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

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

 “I never had to pretend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Never been more serious in my life.”

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

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

 You didn’t put up much of a fight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 He’s an entire three-course meal.

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

 “Take your shirt off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

 When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

 “You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

 You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

 “Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

 Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

 His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

 “Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

 It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

 “P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

 He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

 “I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can. 

 You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

 “Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

 “This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

 You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

 “Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

 “Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

 He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

 Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

 “That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

 He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

 “Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

 Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

 “You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

 The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

 “Why don’t we practice right now?”

 Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

 “Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

 In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

 “Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

 Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

 “Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

 It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

 “That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

 Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace. 

 He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

 “Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

 His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

 “G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

 Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

 “Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

 Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

 Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release. 

 “Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath. 

 Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

 He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

 “Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

 Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

 “Yeah,” is all he can manage.

 After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

 “If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

 Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

 “I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

 Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

 Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

 He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

 “What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

 As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

 A Nespresso.

 A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

 Inside, the card is simple.

 “To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

taglist - @ardoren​ @devilion14​ @bykookie​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @holynamtiddies​ @thejooncrew​ @dee-ehn​ @yrc1963 @fireheart2003​

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 5

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

“Hey, I’m leaving now. Are you there yet?” Lizzie texted shortly after she turned on her car. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” Aubrey replied. “Okay, on my way. It won’t get me too long to get there.” She tossed her cell phone onto the passenger side seat and started to drive.

It’s almost lunch time hour, the traffic is getting undeniably more crowded. It’s typical L.A traffic with its uncertainty crowd flow on random parts here and there. While driving Lizzie starts to think about the meeting today. A part of her actually feels bad knowing that you might have heard what she said on the phone. Deep down she knows it’s not your fault to be caught in the middle of this whole matter. The more she thinks about it, the more it triggers her memory that your were actually the girl who smiled nicely to her at the coffee shop who didn’t do anything that made Lizzie get recognized when she was trying to not to be and that was why Lizzie nodded and smiled as an appreciation towards you.

Of course once her common sense slowly starts to get her to think in the right way, her stubbornness quickly erupts and plays with her emotion again. Especially when her memory rewinded the view when your left hand grabbed the pen and signed the contract even after she gave you a cold intimidating statement then it was followed by the memory of all of her conversations with Jane and her mom who hired you without her agreeing to it. It makes her feel that they don’t think she is old enough to deal with this situation. Her anxiety only makes her more emotional in handling this matter and forces her to dislike you even more and to think what she should do to make you quit.

All the thinking while driving clearly makes it feels faster to get to the restaurant where she's meeting Aubrey. She parked her car, then walked into this quiet restaurant. She was greeted by the host then she explained she is meeting her friend here as her green eyes are searching for where Aubrey sits. “Lizzie! Over here!” Aubrey’s voice quickly caught her attention. Lizzie sees her sitting at the table in the patio and walks to her.

“Hey, how are you? It took longer to get here than you thought huh?” She gave Lizzie a hug. “Hey, how are you? Yeah, sorry, I got caught in a little traffic.” Lizzie sighed then she took a seat. The girls order some food and drink to accompany them while they are catching up.

“Sooo, what's up with your text yesterday. What do you want to figure out together with me? From your text, I can feel you were upset.” Aubrey starts the conversation. “Really? You can sense how I feel from my text?” Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course, we are best friends, more like a soulmate I think but seriously what’s going on?” She joked around but tried to dig into what's going on at the same time.

Lizzie starts with a sigh and takes a sip of her drink. “Do you remember when I told you that Jane and my mom are thinking of getting me a new personal assistant?”

“Yeah? They still talk about it with you?” Aubrey said as she took a bite of her food.

“Even worse! They hired one already regardless of the fact that I said that I don't need one. I met her this morning. She came by with Mitchel Elrod to sign the contract and everything. Turns out she is his best friend.” Lizzie explained with huge annoyance.

“Oh yeah, I remember him. I got my assistant from his company. Does she know how you feel about this thing?”

“Oh that part, she might have heard what I said when I was talking with you on the phone this morning because I didn’t know that she was sitting in front of me in the waiting room. I felt terrible actually but then in the meeting I was thinking fuck it so I told her bluntly straight to her face that I actually don’t need her and I’m here because I’m forced to give it a try so this better be worth it.” Lizzie put her head to her hands, her thumbs massage her temples a little bit.

Aubrey gasped, “No you did not! Then what did she say?” Aubrey got so invested with what’s going on.

“Nothing really. She just said she hopes I like the way she works. That’s all. I was hoping she would change her mind and say no to work for me after what I said to her, but then she signed everything like she was trying to say “challenge accepted” to me.” Lizzie motions an air quote then takes another sip of her drink to calm herself down. “It’s like a competition to me now. This just made me doesn’t like her more.” She added.

“So I need your help to figure out how to make her quit because the contract said it can be terminated if there is a mutual agreement from both parties. So if one day she says she wants to quit, I will agree to it and boom! Case close!” Lizzie told her idea with confidence.

“Why are you trying so hard anyway? I meant Jane and your mom have a point. She will be very busy, they just want someone to help to provide your needs at work. You're gonna have a few busy years sister with all the upcoming filmings and others. It’s for your own sake I guess.” Aubrey shrugged as she tried to talk Lizzie out.

“Oh my God! Aubrey, you are supposed to be on my side. The problem is my anxiety. It’s hard to adjust with new people. This is also about how they don’t listen to my opinion or what I want. They hired her without finalizing it with me first.” Lizzie explains in frustration.

“It’s also about your ego isn’t it?” Aubrey added as she knows her best friends very well. 

“They know you would still say no even if they asked you before they hired her and honey I really understand your anxiety, I'm so sorry. Okay, I’ll help you. Why don’t you just give her hard times at work? Give her “hell” at work.” She suggested.

“And how do I do that?” Lizzie asked in confusion.

“I don’t know. Just be as bitchy as you can, ask ridiculous things. Make her do stuff that doesn’t make sense. So basically gets on her nerves every single day, I guess. Be difficult, you know what I meant.” Aubrey continues with her suggestions.

“I think you are right! Aubrey you are a genius! Thank you!” 

“What would you do without me?” Aubrey rolls her eyes joking around. “Anyway, what’s her name again? How does she look?” All of this conversation made Aubrey curious and pulled out her phone.

“Y/n Y/l/n. She looks okay and well dressed. A little taller than me. She’s - “ Aubrey all of a sudden cuts her off before she can even finish her sentence. 

“Wait! what?! Y/n Y/L/n?” Aubrey is as surprised as she can be, then looks at her phone and shows it to her confused friend. “Is this her?” Lizzie squints her eyes as she takes a look at the social media account profile Aubrey shows her. “YES! That’s her. Wait, how do you know? Please don’t tell me you know her too.” Lizzie covers her face with both of her hands as a sign of frustration.

“Actually, Yes I know her. I know her from a mutual friend quite a while ago. She also introduced me to Mitchel. I didn’t know she came back to work with him. I haven’t seen her for a while, we just sometimes text each other here and there just to say hi.”

“Aww, she hasn’t really changed. I always like the way she dresses and her good taste of music. Look, isn’t she cute?” Aubrey smirked jokingly as she continued checking Y/n’s social media on her phone and showed it to Lizzie.

“What are you talking about Aubrey? Cute or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m upset with this whole situation and I already do not like her, besides I don’t date girls. I’m dating Robbie. You know that! So can you focus here please?" Lizzie snapped her finger to regain Aubrey's attention back to the main topic.

“Haha, okay chill. I was just joking because you are so tense right now. You are dating Robbie but it doesn't look or feel like you guys are dating. You both barely spend time together. He is too busy with his band and his tours. You know what? I started to think he dates you just to boost his fame.” Aubrey casually points out her opinion to her best friends.

“Aubrey, I’m here not to talk about my relationship.” Lizzie reminded her why they are there.

“Okay okay!” Aubrey laughed. “Anyway, I don’t think I can help you to give more ideas to annoy y/n at work. I love you but I didn’t know it was Y/n you were talking about. She’s my friend too, I can't do that to her. At least I gave you the idea in the beginning but just considered I never tell you anything. Sorry babe, I hope you understand.”

“That’s too bad but okay, I understand.” She pouted but she can’t complain because at least Aubrey already gave her a little rough idea what to do.

The girls used the chance to also catch up with each other’s life but unfortunately it has to come to an end as one of them has to go home.

“Okay Liz, sorry I gotta go. I’ll see you when I see you, okay. Remember, don’t hate her too much if you don’t want to end up falling for her. Well that was what old people used to say, I think.” Aubrey teased Lizzie while giving her a goodbye hug.

“Aubrey stop! That won’t happen. See you soon. Thanks for the help.” Lizzie hugs her goodbye. Lizzie then got into her car and pulled her phone out.

“Hey Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen. On friday, we are supposed to drive together to my photoshoot location. Meet me at the office at 6 AM. We’ll take your car from there. Oh, don’t forget my coffee. The one I like. It’s on the list.” Lizzie texted Y/n with no signs of compromise in text.

“Hi. Ms. Olsen, I thought the schedule was at 8 AM but okay, I will meet you there at 6 AM on Friday, with your coffee.” Agreeing is all y/n can do. It’s the first day of work anyway, what’s the worst could happen.

Ch. 6

[simjakeyun]

Hey! Can you write a Enhypen reaction when they're jealous?

✧*:･ﾟ𝗲𝗻— 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 ; 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆’𝗿𝗲 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀

✐ genre: every so slightly angsty, mainly fluff

✐ warnings: none

✐ taglist: no one yet :)

✐ a/n: i accidentally turned this into a headcanon. i hope that’s okay anon 🥺

♡ || 𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴.

you and heeseung are at the grocery store at your hometown

and you just so happened to run into an old classmate of yours that you used to have a thing for

now, heeseung knows about this person

he’s already asked you about previous partners and romantic interests

so when you and this other person start chatting up a storm

he does start to feel a little jealous

especially when you stand there for 30 minutes talking to this person

you never talk this much to him ◔_◔

when you finally part ways with your old classmate, you can’t tell there’s something wrong at first

heeseung is just following you quietly, not wanting to say or do something that he’ll regret later

and then you finally realize that he’s upset

he will adamantly deny that there’s anything wrong at first

he won’t want to admit that there’s something wrong

because he knows there’s nothing truly wrong

yet he still feels this burning jealousy in the pit of his stomach

finally, after you pester him for 20 minutes straight, he’ll admit that he’s slightly jealous

he’s just so serious and stone-faced

so you give him a hug and lay your head on his shoulder

and give him big puppy dog eyes 🥺

he’s totally a sucker for puppy dog eyes

and when that still doesn’t work, you give him little kisses all over his face

and with that, he literally won’t be able to keep a straight face

he’ll smile and look away for a few seconds

then he’ll realize that the entire thing is so silly and apologize

and you’re now mandated to cuddle with him for the rest of the night to make you both feel better :)

♡ || 𝗷𝗮𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸.

so you and jay are on a fancy restaurant date

both of you are all dressed up, looking cute as all hell

and your waiter just so happened to be one of your brother’s friends

you had seen him around the house a few times since he came over to see your brother

and you had liked a few of your brother’s social media posts with him in them

so you two knew each other fairly well

every time he’d stop by the table, you two would have a little chat

jay took quick notice of this

but you hadn’t told jay that you knew him through your brother

so jay was just kinda like ??? hello we’re on a date and you’re flirting with the waiter right in front of me ???

and he did not hesitate to show his jealousy

whenever the waiter would come back to the table, he’d sigh loudly when you started to talk to him

and he’d try to speak up and interrupt your conversation

he’d tap on the table on on his cup

he’d try to grab your hand on the table and wave to catch your attention

and when all else fails, he’ll whine loudly

he’s so embarrassing to take out in public

after your brother’s friend walked away from the table, you finally realized that he was acting that way because he was jealous

jay would glare at you straight up ask why you were flirting with the waiter

and you’d laugh and tell him that the waiter is your brother’s best friend, so you knew each other

jay’s face would soften lightly and he’d start pouting

“jay did you really think i'd flirt with a waiter right in front of you when we’re on a date???”

“you’re right. you’re at least smart enough to do it behind my back.”

the moment would end in laughter

and you noticed that he got a little more affectionate with you that night, holding your hand all night and giving you little hugs and more pecks on the cheek and forehead

♡ || 𝗷𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗺.

now, jake is not one to get jealous easily

he knows you have guy friends and male co-workers that you have to work closely with

but when you spend more time at the dorm with the other members than him?

that’s what gets to him

you’ll come over to the dorm and instantly just go play games with jungwon and jay

and then afterwards, you’ll let sunoo apply his skincare regiment to you

then after that, you’ll help heeseung cook in the kitchen

and at that point, you’ve been at the dorm already for like three hours and none of that time was spent with jake

and jake is the sole reason you’re even there !!!

he’s your boyfriend after all !!!

at first, jake would stop by every 15 or 20 minutes to ask when you’ll be done and can hang out with him

when you said a few more minutes, he’d smile and respect it

but after three hours of it, he just stopped asking

he’d lay down in his bed

and he’d just watch netflix by himself, not wanting to bother you anymore

he’d get sooo extremely sulky

he just feels so disappointed in himself for not being as interesting as the other members or for not planning out a more interesting day for you two

and he was jealous that the other members got to spend time with you while he couldn’t

it was you that had to go find him

and when you did, he would absolutely refuse to look you in the eye

and he’d get just a tad bit passive aggressive

“wouldn’t you rather spend your time with the kids?”

and you could tell just by the tone of his voice that he’s completely heartbroken

you would have to get into his bed and lay on top of him to get him to look at you

he’d only accept an apology if you gave him puppy dog eyes and a big hug

he can’t resist that

he’d open his blanket up for you and cuddle you up

you’d spend the next few hours watching netflix on his phone

and he would not let you go until you had to leave

♡ || 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻.

sunghoon doesn’t tend to get jealous easily

but, just like jake, it bothers him when you spend more time with the members than with him

it’s not that he’s worried the other members will take you from him

because c’mon, if you’re with park sunghoon, you’ve already won at life

it’s just that he feels that you’re giving away affection that should be for him

don’t get him wrong, he’s happy that you’re getting along with his 2nd family quite well

but he thinks that he should be your favorite within the group

so like when niki helps you clean up after eating and you pat his head as a thank you

or when sunoo asks you to put makeup on him and you oblige

just those little touches

he feels like they’re meant for people who are together in a romantic relationship

but the main reason you’re always so affectionate with the other members was because you wanted to treat the members like sunghoon’s family and become closer with them

you know how important the members are to him so you wanted to get to know them better

also sunghoon is totally one to bite his tongue at first

but he’ll let it build up so much that he eventually won’t be able to control it

and it will eventually come out

sunghoon will be passive aggressive

claims he’s not jealous and there’s nothing wrong

but he’s sitting there like ಠ╭╮ಠ

so he’s obviously mad

you’ll have to sit down with him and be like

“look, sunghoon, i know you’re not gonna admit it, but i know you’re jealous.”

“i’m not jeal-”

“yes you are! i'm sorry i was hanging out with the other members more than you”

and it’s only then that he’ll take a step back and listen to you

“well i just don’t like it when you’re really affectionate with the kids.”

only took like 4 hours for him to finally admit it

you two talk it through and sunghoon finally comes to an understanding of why you act so affectionate towards the members

and you agree to spend not as much time around them as before

you and sunghoon cool off the night by playing games together while giving each other pecks on the cheeks as a reward for winning

♡ || 𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗼.

sunoo doesn’t like it when you spend most of your free time with other people

literally just people in general

he finds insecurity in the thought that you wouldn't want to spend time with him

like obviously if you don’t want to spend time with him but you do with other people, you like those other people more than him

if you’re with sunoo and you’re talking to some other people but you’re not engaging in conversation with sunoo that much

then he’ll pout and try to get your attention

if that doesn’t work, he’ll loop his arms around yours

if that doesn’t work, he’ll hold your hand

and when all else fails, he’ll lay his head on your shoulder

gets really pouty and whiny when jealous

he just wants you to pay attention to him 😭

probably whines so much to the point of annoying you

and now you’re mad at him (◞‸◟；)

ah he didn’t mean for it to end up like this but it just kinda happened

as soon as the two of you are alone, he’s really apologetic

he’ll immediately tell you about his jealousy

and will apologize instantly

sunoo always admits his faults :(

he doesn’t want to make the situation worse by now owning up to his faults and denying that there’s nothing wrong

he’ll say that he only wanted your attention and your time

but he let his jealousy get the better of him

honestly, you’d have to be a monster to not forgive him

it’s this entire fight that causes the two of you to set aside a day a week to make an effort to at least talk to each other or play games or hang out

sunoo just wants your love and affection 🥺

♡ || 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻.

I'm just gonna come right out and say it because i believe this with my entire soul

jungwon gets jealous so easily

he can be very confident with the other members and on stage

but within relationships, because of his inexperience, he lacks that confidence

he gets really insecure around your male friends

he’ll see you talk to them in that same excited manner with that glint in your eye that you do to him

and his brain goes to places it shouldn’t

he knows realistically that it’s probably nothing

like this is totally just your personality

but there’s always that little bundle of doubt

in the moment, he won’t say a word

he’ll just observe the situation

keeping a close eye on you especially

but when you walk away

he’ll instantly go into baby mode

“you still love me right?”

“can you give me a hug?”

“i’m the only person you like like this right?”

“If i was a random stranger on the street, you would still have a crush on me right?”

“can you hold my hand?”

you will have to endlessly reassure him

will walk like -10cm away from you

and will keep you close for the rest of the day

so it’s obvious that jungwon isn’t feeling confident at all

and so you’ll have to have a little talk to him about it

it’s mostly just you reassuring him that he’s the only one you love

he definitely finds security in these little talks

because it helps him recognize that you value him enough to openly communicate with him

and that does spike his confidence!

in following situations when you’re with your male friends, he’ll try to be more in the conversation and not think too much about it

will give you little moments of affection

like rubbing your back

or putting a hand on your knee for a second before taking it back off

that helps boost his confidence as well

but he does actively try to better himself about not getting as jealous as before

♡ || 𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶.

niki’s young so he probably gets jealous left and right

whether that’s when you’re with the other members

or with your friends

or just as school around classmates

his hormones are out of wack and he’s still going through puberty

please don’t blame him :(

niki just doesn’t want to lose you

like jungwon, he’s also not very confident because of his lack of experience in relationships

if you’re talking to the other members or your friends, he gets pouty

watches you very closely

he doesn’t want to insert himself in any way or show that he’s feeling jealous

he’ll get huffy for a little while too

if you question him as to why he’s upset, he’ll outright deny being upset

claim that he’s fine even though he clearly isn’t

will also reject any form of affection

do not touch him or try to talk to him about it

he’ll need a few minutes to sit and think about it

and then after like half an hour of cooling down, he’ll have a better grasp of his feelings

he might not be able to perfectly articulate his feelings into words but you can always hear the emotion in whatever he says

he’s better at displaying his emotions rather than speaking it

he’s a dancer after all

niki would feel so much better through words of reassurance

he just wants to know that he’s doing well

little everyday comments always help make him feel more secure

“niki! you look different today! i think you’ve gotten more handsome?”

lots of i love yous 🥺

“please eat well today!”

“I care about you!!!”

those little comments always make his heart flutter (ノ・ω・)ノ

[all-my-love-for-harry]

A priority.

summary: Y/N defends herself from the hate and Harry gets mad.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst!

a/n: a little something to hold onto until i finish some requests for my shy little boy, hope you like this! (i’m on a roll, sorry for posting so much mjsiw)

you can find the rest of my masterlist here

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ 

Ugly. Worthless. Bitch. And her personal favorite, slut. Those words along with some others were all over Y/N’s social media accounts every single day.

Ever since some bloody paparazzi took a picture of Harry and Y/N holding hands while shopping, Y/N couldn’t go online without having thousands of strangers on the internet throwing names at her.

She should’ve seen it coming, honestly. It was stupid to think they could hide their relationship forever, she just wished fans wouldn’t be so aggressive towards her.

Y/N wanted to understand, she really did. For a solid week she convinced herself they were just being protective over Harry, but after the insults and derogatory comments about her imagine didn’t stop, she started to grow annoyed. She started believing fans just didn’t want to see him happy.

Y/N had to bit her tongue numerous times, knowing that if she stood up for herself, it would only be worse. So she tried to ignore it.

She didn’t stop using social media, why the hell would she stop having a life because of fans that couldn’t contain their need to harass every person Harry became close with?

A month after the pictures of them were out for the entire world to see, Harry had to travel to the States for work. He was supposed to be away for only two weeks, and Y/N was going to stay at his house a couple of days before his arrival so they can spend time together right away.

Laying on the couch, Y/N scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram feed, seeing what her friends and family were up to. She rolled her eyes when her notifications started to go off, not really wanting to enter and see her entire comment section below her posts full of hate towards her.

But curiosity killed the cat.

Promising herself she would only have a look, she clicked her notifications. She had posted a picture yesterday when she went out with a couple of her girlfriend, so all the comments were directed towards that post.

She’s dressed like a slut here

Can’t believe Harry is dating her…

He can do so much better, what a shame

It can be so easy to slip into a mindset where she let these type of things affect her and her confidence, but she simply chose not to. These people didn’t know her, and probably never will.

I can’t wait for harry to realize the kind of whore you are and dumps your fucking ass.

Oh well, that’s hilarious. Now she was mad. Probably picking a fight wasn’t the smartest decision she’s ever made, but she couldn’t help it. She let the anger speak for itself as she pressed the reply bottom and started writing directly to that specific comment.

‘So he can date you instead or what?”

Send.

Y/N dropped her phone on her lap, deciding it was enough internet for the day. She decided to move to the kitchen and start on the cupcakes she had previously planned to bake her boyfriend. Harry wasn’t one to allow himself to eat a lot of unhealthy stuff, as he has always tried to be as healthy as possible. But, man, cupcakes were something Harry absolutely loved.

She didn’t really touched her phone for the rest of the afternoon, staying busy in other things. She had a facetime call with Harry at night, and she was looking forward to see his face, even if it was only through the phone. Her phone didn’t have enough battery, so she turned on her computer to wait for Harry’s call.

The screen lightened, showing Harry’s upcoming call. Y/N furrowed, thinking he was way earlier but she wouldn’t complain about it. She answered the call, expecting to see her beautiful boyfriend’s dimpled smile on the screen, but she was surprised when she saw a serious look instead.

“Why would you do that, Y/N?” he asked sternly.

“Do what?” Was this some kind of joke?

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N. Don’t play dumb”

“Excuse me?” she raised her eyebrows. “Maybe if you explained what you mean we could talk about it”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea how disrespectful it was from you to answer like that to a fan? It was unnecessary and, to be honest, childish from you”

Y/N was surprised. “Yeah, maybe I was rude but I don’t think I was being childish, Harry”

“Yes, you were. Are you aware of how this makes me look? You can’t just say things like those and don’t think it wouldn’t affect my image too”

Well, what the fuck. “Ah, yes. Treat people with kindness and whatnot. I guess that doesn’t include your fucking girlfriend, because the only reason why I said what I said was because your bloody fans wouldn’t stop harassing me!” Now her face had a deep frown.

“You sure you’re not being a little dramatic? I mean, how bad could the hate get?”

“How bad?! Harry, do you even go online? To them I’m nothing but a fucking whore, do you have any idea of how fucking frustrating is to be treated like you’re the worst human being by your fans just because we’re dating?”

“There’s always gonna be people like that, Y/N” he sighed. “You need to learn how to ignore it”

“Do you think I haven’t tried? I’m sorry but it is not my fault the fans can’t contain themselves from sending death threats to every person that breaths close to you!” she paused. “Do you seriously just called me to scold me?”

“Well, I’m not happy about what you did, to be honest. They’re my fans, Y/N. They deserve to be respected”

“And I don’t?” she raised an eyebrow. “You know what? I’m done. Enjoy your day alone tomorrow because I’m fucking leaving”

“Leaving? What do you mean?” Harry’s pulse started to rise, watching his girlfriend stand up from the bed, the computer moved and he saw she was in his house. “Y/N, don’t leave. We’ll talk about this tomorrow”

“No, I’ve heard enough. I don’t want to talk to you right now” She closed her computer, hanging up. She put on her jacket and took her phone from the nightstand.

Before she exited the house, she went to the kitchen and threw the cupcakes she made in the trash.

Harry, you fucking asshole.

They’ve only dated for seven months and have never really got into a fight before. Y/N was a very impulsive person, more so when she was mad. Fuck, she knew his fans were important to him, she understood that. But it was becoming too much for Y/N to handle.

She loved Harry, she was truly in love with him. But was it really worth it to go through all of this if he wasn’t even willing to stand up for her?

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Harry changed his flights. After Y/N hung up on him, he realized he behaved like a proper asshole. He could’ve said so many things differently, without offending her the way he did.

He didn’t like she thought she wasn’t important to him. He was scared all the baggage he carried with him was a deal breaker for her, it has been on the past for almost every other relationship he has ever had.

It wasn’t fair of him to straight up scold her without hearing her first. He was upset and didn’t think enough before speaking, and now he regretted it.

He knew he needed to fix things. Fast.

Even though the night before Y/N made very clear she wasn’t staying, a part of him still hoped to see her curled up on the couch watching Netflix and waiting for him to arrive, but he was welcomed by an empty house.

He sighed, passing his hand through his curls, thinking how he could make it up to her. He went to the kitchen, where he kept his car keys. Harry stopped his tracks when he saw the trash can.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he noticed the homemade untouched cupcakes tossed into the trash.

He better make this right.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Y/N was bored. She had cleared her schedule because Harry was coming home and now she had nothing to do other than drown on her sorrows.

Being bored and upset at her boyfriend, made her take the decision to take an afternoon nap on her couch. She had been asleep for a little while when someone started banging at the door.

You see, Harry had a key to her place, but he feel undeserving of using it after the way he treated her. But she wasn’t answering, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t home, he had seen her car in the parking lot of her apartment building.

Keying into her place, he looked around for his girlfriend, finding her sleeping figure on the couch, a blanked wrapped around her. He didn’t want to wake her up but they really needed to talk, so he kneeled down to be at the same eye level.

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up” he shook her a little. Her eyelashes fluttered a little before her eyes opened, a frown immediately appearing on her face.

“What are you doing here?” She sat down, taking the blanked off of her and crossing her arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby”

“Now I’m baby? Not the childish Y/N you were scolding yesterday?”

He sighed, moving to sit in the coffee table to be in front of her. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday, it wasn’t fair for you”

“It wasn’t”

“I was upset, Jeff had sent me a screenshot of the comment and I didn’t even check social media. It was impulsive and wrong from me and I apologize”

“I don’t like the way you talked to me yesterday, Harry”

“I know. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. Please don’t leave me over this, my love” he grabbed her hands, feeling tears threaten to spill out of his eyes. “I know it isn’t fair for you, I know you’ll have to put up to so much shit, but please, please don’t give up on us. I swear I’ll make it right, Y/N, I don’t want these kind of situations get in the way of us”

“I’m not going to leave you” she mumbled. “I’m upset, yes. I know I was wrong too, but it all got too much and i… snapped. I know these kind of things affect your image and reputation too, so I’m sorry”

“I don’t care about my image. I should’ve said something sooner, before it all went out of control. I suppose I ignored it, hoping you’d do the same. I’m sorry for not checking up with you about this”

Y/N gave him a little smile, pulling from his hands to make him sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around his torso, pushing herself into his chest. “I know your fans are important to you, and you love them. I swear I want to have a good relationship with them, because they’re a huge part of your life, and I’m gonna work on that, I promise”

“And I promise I’ll stand up for you. I love my fans, so much. But you’re my girlfriend, my priority” he kissed her forehead. “I love you, Y/N, my baby”

“I love you more, love” she planted little kisses on his chin and jaw.

“Enough to make me more cupcakes?” Y/N let out a belly laugh, nodding. “Good. You owe me after you threw those to the trash”

“That’s what you get for being a meanie”

[mimibtsghost7]

Fuck you and all your little brain washed rats sending people hate because you cant take responsibility for your actions!! But go on stay silent like you always do, pretend its nothing of your business, keep being a fetishizing racist delulu like you love to be while pretending to be the best blog on tumblr!!!

NOT like anyone will see this but YOU will so LET’S GOOO!!!~~

TW: mental health and more (if you feel like this can trigger you, pls don’t read this, breathe in and out and listen to this HERE and remember I love you), loads of tea and Mimi NOT being a friendly and kind ghost. 

funny enough: 

I never pretended of said I was the best blog. But I guess the fact that you say it might be because you heard it frequently? Thanks for thinking so^^

I sent hate to no one and u r the one sending it to me rn ^^ In my whole 4 year journey on Tumblr I received a lot of love but also worse hate that you can imagine. Yes you are saying now you are receiving hate ... funny how it’s bad when It’s addressed to you but when it’s at me and my dear followers it is not. Still, I never told anyone to go hate on you. You were the idiot that tagged my old blog and as soon as my blog was gone pple searched me and found out you were the reason behind this. But as you keep hating on me. Let me tell you I am kind but don’t mistake that for me being a coward.

I am not into insulting others and I don’t care much if you insult me. BUT don’t YOU DARE touch my dear followers. Insulting ain’t hard. Let me try: The only rat here is you hiding in your hole as an anon. I went and compared your writing with this ask and previous hate asks. And it was you~ Good for you~ the sewers smell just like your filthy mouth spilling sh*t left and right. So on brand. However, I know who you are @hobisbeautifulass Hi ^^

Me racist? HAHAHAHAH you truly know NOTHING about me nor my ex-blog’s message. It was a place when you were welcomed no matter your skin color, religion, gender ... proof? well it got deleted thanks to you. but ask around this time and search for who reblogged my posts as they were always the top of the tags (even if I don’t trust how bad you are at research). I supported the BLM movement and still do and will always do but I did so veeery early without anyone telling me. Not for the notes but because of my humanity. I wished my dear followers’ happy holidays no matter their religions. And never cared about those things. Why judge someone on something based on religion or how they were born. As for the LGBTQ+ community, I was always and will always be there for love being love. I talked about mental health and opened venting nights. I helped left and right and when I was receiving hate because of people like you spitting lies about me. What did I do? Did I go online and called people bad? No. I looked back at myself and asked myself if I did anything wrong. I tried to educate myself and apologized sincerely when I had to. I read books and watched documentaries to learn how to become a better human. AND never repeated a mistake twice. You tend to forget that our cultures are different and sometimes you grow up to see some things as normal when they are not. This is not an excuse tho, so I always believed that I was lacking and if someone had something to say against me, there is a chance they are right and just in case I should reflect on myself. But for your case it was pure nonsense. ME? a stalker? how can I stalk when I have social anxiety and at that time couldn’t even leave my room? I am even afraid of taking public transportations and just the other days I was crying from joy when I took a taxi alone. they said I was in Japan stalking Jimin and Jungkook and took a pic when I was NEVER EVER was on that land. You put me on the same list as people who bought info about BTS’ flights to be on the same plane as them? I was stalked before and let me tell you it ain’t cute and fun. I am even scared of the idea of being followed. that’s why I never shared openly my age, country, or anything about me on my blog. that’s why I have no personal social media to this day and that’s why making my ex-blog was some sort of miracle in my life. 

Silent? yes I was silent when I received hate and didn’t even vent to my dear followers or pointed fingers. Why? because I thought as my day was hell I shouldn’t make anyone’s day worse. I was worried about my dear followers with mental illnesses being triggered. I tried to take my life so many times I lost count but I still came here and smiled. It was my safe place and you took it away. Yet, I should pity you? You hated on me first for no reason and you know it deep inside but right now you are trying to convince yourself that you are the angel and feel no guilt. Compared to you. I pointed fingers at no one and didn’t name you when my blog was gone. Why? because compared to you, I thought you will not be able to manage the hate and what was done .. I didn’t want you to suffer the same way I did when you are the one who made me suffer the most the past couple of days. But the kind Mimi is someone you will never remember because you dared touch the friends I love and calling them names. I don’t mind people insulting me but don’t you dare touch my people. I know myself best. My dear friends/followers know me best. I thought ... I could leave without this mess but you keep barking in my ask box and it’s annoying. I left this backup account just to talk to my friends and yet you are here to ruin things again? I should stop being kind to the ones who deserve non of it. I ignored you when I had so many followers and you went silent too because you were scared of me. But as soon as I lost my blog because of you, you went, edited and then reblogged that stalker post. How can I be a stalker? do you even know the definition of a stalker? do you even know shame? well .. I don’t think so.. you said it yourself. You are NOT ashamed (and you reblogged that so many time lol). 

Death threats? this is no competition but thanks to people like you I have been there and wish no one to be there not even you. The only difference is that you almost killed me for real. You were not the sole reason? Great job walking away from you beloved word: RESPONSIBILITY. And I didn’t get just anon hate, I got literal tagging by people like you, DMs, and people pointing guns at me. That’s why I didn’t mention you. I was worried about the one who took away what I worked for for 4 YEARS. I was more sad and concerned about the ARMY fandom here. Do you know how many rely on my updates? do you know how many people said I helped them? do you know any of that? do you think 200k people were “rats”? Do you think if I did and say wrong thing I will not be questioned by those people. I always told my dear followers: “friends, if I do or say anything wrong or share anything that hurts anyone please tell me. I am willing to learn from everyone.” But what did you know? what did you do? Well ..  guess you love notes? As the most notes you ever got and the most attention was when talking about me? 

Love how you talk about fetishing when my blog was what people call “family friendly”. I also like BTS. I love them for their music, talent, personalities and the happiness they give me. I also enjoy BTS’ bond and love their interactions. I posted content of all kinds of interactions JM X JK, JK X V, V X JIN, JIN X SG, SG X JH, JH X RM, RM X JM ... If you are calling this fetishing asian men just because I scream over BTS as a fan and love their bonb. Then aren’t you against the idea of being an ARMY? I was a clear OT7 and you were told that you weren’t right: 

 Then you answered this without even explaining the nonsense about me: 

idk .. I am trying to find sense in your nonsense so .. wait wait let me look at the definition of fetishism first. 

Fetishism /ˈfɛtɪʃɪz(ə)m/ noun: a form of sexual behavior in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, activity, part of the body, etc.

Then .. judging from your URL alone hmmm ... cute. I won’t even talk about the SMUT you write that is full of kinks and fetishism. Well I have no problem with fan fiction but the irony you spit is out of this world.

Also, I made money out of mimibtsghost? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH no lil one. I worked day and night for FREE. At some point when BT21 just came out and there were no products on AMAZON or anywhere but S.Korea, someone reached out to me to offer 20% off or something for my dear followers. When they asked what I wanted I said what about international giveaways for my dear followers. Basically, made gifs, found content, updates, analysis, edits, and so on for free. Again, w-wait .. Aren’t you the one asking for commissions? Well .. It’s not wrong. But again THE irony. 

So, I went to see that post you made about me with “PROOF” and it was just another person who was salty as I got them blocked I can’t even recall who they were but oh well. Their arguments according to YOU and many should be taken as FACTS just because they said them?  You said HERE that your first comeback was MOST:7 that came in just last year (2020) SO what the hell do YOU know about what happened years before you came when all the proof you pointed at where baseless without any backing?

Let’s see this so wise person you used to delete my blog and what I have done ^^

The gifs: There is a story to this. The first week I came to Tumblr, It was my first time on this site and the first time I share anything. I shared some content and my analysis had a lot of notes for a small creator that started just a week ago. But I made a mistake, I found a gif and posted it while crediting the gif maker. At the time I had NO idea it was wrong. I logged off and after 5 hours I log in and there was a WAR for that ONE gif. The big blog had me blocked and her friend was telling me to take it off. As soon as the person told me I did IMMEDIATELY and apologized againa and again and told them to tell the original gif maker to deblock me as I want to apologize directly and that they can block me after that. They did and I apologized but they just kept insulting me. Of course it was MY mistake and that’s why I apologized. But for them. for a mere gif (yes I say a mere gif because I made so many gifs and they were used on all platforms but I never thought it was necessary to hate that much on someone like they did to me). That blog was big and had big blog mutuals. Thanks to that, I became someone you do NOT become mutuals with but block and never reblog content from. Without any big mutuals. Without any shoutouts. Only my love for BTS, my dear followers’ support and my hard work.. My blog, became bigger and FAST (I got 10k in less than 6 months after I started) and that brought loads of jealousy and thus more rumors. Even if, I apologized and since then made my own gifs. And I made SO many gifsets that I can’t remember how many there were. What I can recall is at some point I made them daily and many times a day.

Ships Jikook? I posted content of ALL the members interactions. I was here at a time where Jikook stans and Taekook stans where always fighting. BUT I posted about both and even made so many posts to encourage loving all the members and all the interactions. I also used the tags solely used for shipping with other big tags to show that BTS’ interactions are all important and their bond is beutiful. That our fandom shouldn’t hate on a member just because they are not part of a ship we like. And wait .. even if I shipped Jikook? I got called ALL those names by someone who ship the members with readers and write sexual scenes? Like, wait ... I am truly confused. Like, write fanfic and do all you want as long as you hurt no one I guess but why am I getting hurt for doing non of it? Like according to you, the person you should be cancelling is yourself?! I am also not into cancel culture like you so hahah whatever.

Posted stalker pics: well wow the story changes each time. Next thing you will hear that I was the one holding a camera for a member in a Vlive lol. Let me teach you about this update thing I was doing. I follow accounts I trust and that’s how we get info circulating fast. I always do reasearch but sometimes mistakes are made. For example when lately people shared pictures of BTS leaving their virtual concerts and schedules. There was a watermark of a news outlet. Normally we trust those but only later we realized that those people stalked BTS. You clearly can’t know it all. But I still didn’t share many pics related to many events (I will not name those as pple can search them even now because some pple never deleted those). And all big accounts shared many pics then deleted later. This happens all the time but it happened like ONCE for me. However, I am called a stalker for that? 

When Jonghyun passed away ... I don’t even wanna recall that night as the memories just ... when that happened I posted about it and send my condolescences. that post had over 10k notes and was at the top the tag. Why did I do that? I was devastated. Yes, many were but I will talk about me rn: I was suicidal the days before that and one of the songs that I listened to when I was broken where by him. I has been in the kpop world since 2006. And learned about his group since their debut with ‘Replay’. I was never a stan but I still knew of many groups and listened to all the songs I liked. I was very sad when he was gone and ANGRY mostly. Why is this angel leaving? Why is someone like me still here? Why did I not leave instead of him? How much did he suffer? And in the midst I posted a post from twitter that stated how agencies usually put down pple with mental illiness and hide it in the industry. Yes, that was important but NOT at that time. I shouldn’t have posted that and I realized after 5 min of doing so that it was WRONG. So I deleted it FAST but it kept being reblogged and I kept getting hate and people telling me: “Go kill yourself”... the sad part is that I almost did as my answer was “true ... why am I still here?” I apologized and logged off then to this day won’t forget crying at 3 AM while walking outside next to my dad. I was outside as I couldn’t breathe anymore and the idea of seeing the walls of my room was hell. I cried and cried and the teary eyes that my father looked at me with are something I am ashamed of to this day. To add one more thing while I am spilling the beans. I hate learning about someone dying. My grandma passed away sometime before that and it was so shocking to me. and some people came and told me when I was mourning her: Go follow that bitch of grandmother of yours. And for what? At that moment I didn’t think I would live to see the next year but I went to therapy and took medecine that was hurting and made me shake all day just to turn somewhat sane. No one knew tho ... I smiled all day and cried all night.. Even on the blog I fought no one of the ones who hated me. I just blocked them but even that was an insult to them?

Again, you said no one should defend me. Yet, you were ready to fight whoever touched anyone around you. What about changing your URL to beautifulassirony

Also THE hypocrisy. If you are sorry then why are you answering an ask of someone isulting someone you want to apologize to? Just make a post wher you apologize or ignore it from the start?

One more thing but surely not the last. You said you were good with research which you are NOT. So, let me show you what an OG detective ARMY can do. But first, as I was scrolling I saw some of your “work” (let’s not even talk about those gifs) and I am just giving my point of view here: I hate how you painted Namjoon as this horny-idiotic-make-dog. Like I get it it’s a fanfic or Namjoon as a dad but ... Namjoon is such a smart man who is very respectful and ofc he is a human with needs like many but what the hell is this way of portraying a character? Also a character is not cool, amazing, and a strong woman just because they curse and belittle their partner. 

Oh well, only you kept reblogging that as it show 36 reblogs when only 33 as still there when I looked and out of those 13 reblogs are yours? (you might have reblogged it more) but again some people might have liked ... people have different taste ... so ... whatever. 

Let’s continue, shall we ^^. You said you were the victim here when I was the one getting robbed right? How can I believe someone who reblogged the post below and was proud calling themselves an abomination or how the Oxford dictionary defines it:  a thing that causes disgust or loathing. For once you weren’t wrong.

What can you expect from someone who has the “I am not like others” kinda mentality while stating relatable things that everyone goes through?

This is getting pretty long. So to sum this up. You are now telling others that hate is NOt ok and that they should be ashamed of themselves when you yourself is not ashamed of hating on me?

I am not the type that sends anon hate. I might ignore some barking but the past days you came and bite me hard. I face the ones I have to face without fear. I know I am not the bad guy here and I don’t care much what you think about me. Even BTS got haters. This says a lot. BUT do NOT dare talk badely of my dear friends/followers. You said you do research well? Start by deleting the post below that was originally by ME from your blog ... oh how meticulous you are. From your baseless receipts to your twisted logic. Indeed people on the internet can say anything and it will be FACTS. You painted me as the devil and painted yourself as this researcher? What’s next you receiving a Phd in ‘pity me’ after your MBA in lies and irony? Whatever~ 

Whaaatever~ Karma will have upcoming talks with you. No need for you to apologize. I never cared about you and you only got attention using me. But I am not here anymore how will you get that blog running now? Are you gonna add me in a fanfic next? No need for you to send me my appearance fee when you do so~ And no need for you to apologize to me just apologize to you conscience if you have any left.  As for me @hobisbeautifulass​ you are just someone I will forget soon anyway~~ 

And because according to what you said HERE when you described the things you hate about people and I thought that was VERY close to how you treated me. Thus, you might really not stand yourself rn.

Do.Not.Worry. BTS are starting the Love Myself campaign again and just in time for you to jump in (you are good at jumping to conclusions about me so I won’t worry about you). I know you don’t like me or my friends but be sure to love yourself at least ^^ 

You are a Hobi stan? Then learn from Hobi to share some sunshine not bring the storm. Have a good day~

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Derailed (Director’s Cut)

Elle Greenaway x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~1520

Warnings: Discussion of Spencer’s sex life, or lack thereof. Discussion of virginity as a social construct. Some suggestive dialogue, some snarky banter, and some sweetness to wash it down. It’s sexy, but also totally platonic, and it fades to black before anything actually happens.  

A/N: You cannot convince me that this isn’t how Spencer lost his v-card.  

For the “deleted scene” square on my @cmbingo​ card, written script-style and all. Picks up right where Derailed left off. 

(I almost named this Railed. Then I almost named it Deflowered. So many tempting puns.) 

[Around dusk. Hotch is driving an SUV. Morgan is in front, Elle and Spencer in back.]

Hotch: Elle, your interview has been rescheduled for tomorrow… and this time I’m driving you. 

Elle: I can live with that. 

Hotch: Local PD asked Gideon to consult on a case, and they wanted advice on media strategy, so he took JJ. The rest of us aren’t needed, so I got us checked into a motel. 

Morgan: Lemme get this straight. We have an actual night off… and we’re spending it in B.F.E., West Texas? 

Elle: They have bars in West Texas, right? 

Spencer: We just passed one. 

Elle: Then you won’t see me complaining. Drinks? Reid? 

Spencer: Are you buying?

Elle: Hell yes I am. C’mon, Morgan, you gonna come celebrate the fact that I didn’t die today? 

Morgan: When you put it that way, I don’t have much of a choice, do I? [They pull up in front of the motel and start piling out of the car.] Showers first, though. 

Elle: We can head out in like an hour. How about you, boss? 

Hotch: While I’m very glad nobody died, I am not passing up the opportunity to sleep for more than four consecutive hours. I don’t care what you do as long as I don’t get a call in the middle of the night. 

— 

[Inside a bar. Spencer and Elle are sitting at a high top, with a collection of empty glasses in front of them. Both of them are tipsy, not totally drunk but sort of giggly and loose-limbed. Spencer is using a penny to show Elle how he hid the microchip earlier. Nearby, the bartender is handing Morgan three fresh drinks, but he’s distracted, talking to a pretty woman, as he takes them.] 

[Morgan brings their drinks over to the table and sets two of them down.]

Morgan: So —

Elle: We lost you, huh? [To Spencer] Told you so. 

Morgan: How ‘bout you, pretty boy? She’s got friends. 

Elle: Oh, come on, you really gonna make me drink alone? 

Spencer: Yeah, no thanks. 

Morgan: Suit yourself. Don’t wait up. 

[Elle rolls her eyes as he walks away. Then she turns back to Spencer, who’s playing with the penny again.] 

Elle: You know I’m joking, right? I’m almost ready to head back to the motel, anyway. You should go have some fun. 

Spencer: I’m about ready to call it a night too. And honestly, that doesn’t really seem like fun for me.

[Elle watches him for a second, thinking.]

Elle: The flirting? Or the flirting with girls? 

Spencer: Hmm? 

Elle: I shouldn’t have assumed, sorry… are you even interested in women?” 

Spencer: Theoretically, yes? But more to the point, women are rarely interested in me. I’m not… like that. [He gestures at Morgan, who’s showing his new friend how to hold a pool cue, saying something in her ear as she giggles.]

Elle: It’s about confidence, Doc. Gotta be a little cocky. Not too cocky, but — 

Spencer: I don’t know how to be cocky. 

Elle: Like hell you don’t. Remember earlier? When I said you probably saved my life, and —

Spencer: — I said I totally saved your life. I remember. 

Elle: That. Cocky. It works for you.  

Spencer: I did save your life, though. That’s a statement of fact, objectively speaking. Of course I’m confident when it comes to stating a fact.

[Spencer flips the penny between his fingers a few times, then makes it disappear and pulls it out from behind her ear.] 

Elle: There’s something to get cocky about. You’re good with your hands, doctor.

[Spencer gets flustered and drops the penny, laughing at himself.] 

Spencer: That’s different. 

Elle: How so? 

Spencer: I’m not going to take a girl home and show her my magic tricks, for starters. [He finishes his drink hurriedly.] Are you ready to go? I’m ready to go. 

Elle: You’re not getting out of this that easily. 

[They both slide off their stools and pull on jackets. Elle looks around for Morgan, but he’s way too focused on the girl to notice them. Spencer makes a face. They head for the door and start walking down the block.] 

Elle: Look, objectively speaking? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass and you’re a goddamn genius. You know more than me about… well, almost everything, and as annoying as that can be — [She rolls her eyes and sighs, annoyed by her own sincerity.] — it’s impressive. Not to get all schmoopy about it, but… you’re pretty awesome, Doc. 

Spencer: I know I’m awesome. This isn’t about my self-esteem. 

Elle: So what’s the problem? 

Spencer: A random girl in a bar isn’t interested in my IQ. And anyway, it’s not… I know how to talk to girls. But I’m not about to take one home. 

Elle: Why not? 

[Spencer sighs heavily, looking exasperated.] 

Spencer: You want to know why I’m confident in my ability to make pennies disappear? 

Elle: I mean… not really, but I’m guessing you have a point. 

Spencer: It’s because I’ve been practicing my whole life. I’ve mastered the skill because I’ve had years to do so. 

[Realization slowly dawns on Elle’s face.] 

Elle: You’re a virgin, aren’t you? 

Spencer: Virginity is a social construct based on inherently patriarchal values of purity and the commodification of the female body. [Elle looks sideways at him, raising an eyebrow.] Yes, I’m a virgin. 

Elle: So, is it about romance? You want the first time to be special? [Spencer shrugs.] Hate to break it to you, but most first times are funny at best. The sooner you get it out of the way, the sooner it can be an embarrassing story for Morgan to laugh at. 

Spencer: Yeah. Great. That’s exactly what I want. 

Elle: No, really, what are you hung up on? [They’ve arrived back at the motel. Elle starts opening her door, but pauses.] You want to come in for a minute? Finish this conversation over another drink? 

[Spencer shrugs and follows her inside. She starts pouring drinks from the minibar while he continues.] 

Spencer: I guess part of the problem is the… learning curve. If I get to that point with someone I already have feelings for, that’s a lot of pressure, you know? But it would feel disingenuous to just pick up a random girl at a bar. 

[Elle hands him a glass and they sit down.]

Elle: Disingenuous? 

Spencer: False advertising. [He gives her a self-deprecating frog face.] That doesn’t seem fair to her. 

Elle: You’re telling me you don’t want to pick up a girl in a bar because you’re a perfectionist?

Spencer: Well… yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it. I don’t like being bad at things! 

[Elle laughs and then stares at her glass for a moment, rolling it between her hands thoughtfully.]

Elle: Which means you need someone who knows what to expect. Someone who’s okay with… the learning curve. 

Spencer: I mean, I know the theory, but — 

Elle: That’s something you can’t really learn from a book. 

Spencer: Unfortunately. I need some practical experience. 

Elle: You need someone you trust. [Spencer nods.] Somebody you’re comfortable with, but not so emotionally involved with that you feel like you need to impress them. 

Spencer: I guess. Yeah. 

[Elle raises her eyebrows and waits for him to get it. It takes a minute. His first instinct is to laugh, then he realizes she’s serious.]

Spencer: Really?  

Elle: Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. 

Spencer: But… why? 

Elle: You saved my life. Seems like the least I can do. I owe you one. 

Spencer: I didn’t do that because I expected something in return! You’re my teammate, and my friend, and — 

Elle: Because you know more than me about almost everything else in the world, and for once I’d like to be the one showing off. 

Spencer: That’s not — 

Elle: Haven’t you been listening? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass, and — objectively speaking — you’re pretty awesome. Besides, you’re my friend, and — [She hesitates, looking down at her glass, and the next part sounds almost painfully honest.] — my first time wasn’t great. It wasn’t with someone I trusted. And I guess if I can make sure it’s not like that for somebody else… 

Spencer: Oh. [He smiles slightly, looking touched.] You really mean it? 

[Elle rolls her eyes.]

Elle: One night only, no strings attached, and if you ever mention it to anyone on the team I will kill you in your sleep, but yeah. I mean it. 

Spencer: Not a word. 

[Elle drains her glass and straddles him matter-of-factly. He looks very overwhelmed.]

Spencer: Did you know — 

[Elle puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. He closes his mouth immediately, and she gives him an approving nod, teasing but also genuinely fond.]

Elle: You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? As long as you can follow directions and keep the statistics to yourself, I think we’re going to have some fun tonight. Now, shut up and kiss me. 

[Spencer smiles. Cut to black.]

.

Smutty follow-up is now HERE! 

.

.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to be tagged in future Criminal Minds fic. 

[pedro-pascal-love]

The Past

Chapter Four of Well, This is Awkward

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ Join My Taglist 

Rating: 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 2k+

Summary: Some things come to light about Reader’s past and Dave is a tease.

Warnings: Language, angst, slow burn, graphic descriptions of sexual acts but no sex (yet!)

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A week. That’s how long you’d had been avoiding Dave at all costs. You made damn sure not to be caught alone with him whenever possible, always having one of the girls there or being out of the house running errands while the girls were at school. As far as you could tell, Dave was avoiding you too. Which you’d admit hurt your pride a little bit, but hey, he was married, so you had no right to be upset.

You’d tried to get your mind off him as much as you could by working on things around the house or helping the girls out with homework, but you could only do that so much before boredom overtook you. Whenever you weren’t busy with the girls or doing errands, you often hung out in your room on your phone or laptop, just scrolling through social media. You’d done your nails several times this week already and had perfected the art of folding your towels five different ways and rearranging your bedroom. Yeah, you weren’t going a little stir crazy at all. Carol was due back from her trip in a week, and you’d hoped to avoid Dave the rest of the time until then, but fate had other ideas.

It started like any other day; you’d gone to drop off the girls at school and then hidden away in your room. Two hours passed before you heard a peep from around the house, and it came in the form of a knock on your door. Your heart stopped; your breath hitched.

“Yes?” You called out, nerves consuming you in anticipation.

“It’s Dave, mind if I come in?” Dave replied through the door. You looked down at your clothes, contemplating if you should change or not. All that preserved your modesty was a pair of yoga pants and a tight-fitting tank top.

Fuck, you thought. You straightened yourself up and took a deep breath, putting a pillow on your lap under your laptop and took in a deep breath.

“Come in,” you stated, bracing yourself for his entry. Dave quickly opened the door, and it took everything in you to remain conscious. How would a man look so good in merely a dress shirt and trousers?! Dave made his way to you and sat on the foot of the bed while you scooted back a little bit more on the bed and propped yourself up against the headboard.

“What can I do for you today, Dave?” You inquired.

“I think you and I need to have a little chat,” Dave replied. You bit your lip.

Fuck, I do not like where this is going.

“What about? Is something wrong?” You replied nonchalantly.

“Yes. You’ve been avoiding me this last week, and I’d like to know why,” Dave stated, cutting right to the chase.

Fuck.

“Oh….Um….Well, you see….” You stammered out, not sure how to answer that without sounding like a complete idiot.

“I mean, I have a few guesses, but I wanted to hear it from you.” You sighed, hearing his words.

Here goes nothing.

“Yeah…..I have sort of been avoiding you, and I’m so sorry if it came off as rude,” you began. “It’s just; I’m not sure how to handle this situation.”

“What? The fact that you and I have fucked, and now you’re my children’s nanny?” Dave blatantly asked. You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, but his words didn’t stop there.

“The fact that I’ve had you bent over, with my cock deep in your soaking wet pussy, letting a stranger fuck you in a public place?” You clenched your thighs at his words, the action not going unnoticed by Dave, as his eyes shifted down to your legs covered up by the pillow. You gulped and nodded,  eyes downcast.

“I see…..Well, I guess I can only assume that you wanted to pretend like that never happened. However,” Dave paused. You lifted your eyes and met his gaze. “What if I don’t want to go on as if nothing happened?” You felt the fire in your soul flare. Were you really hearing his words? Dave got up and moved until he was sitting next to you on the bed, shutting your laptop, setting both the pillow and the computer down next to you.

“See, Princess, I kind of really liked how you felt around me. Feeling the tight walls of your pussy clench around me, milking me for every last drop.” The pet name made you bite your lip and fidget with your hands. You didn’t want to let his words affect you, but they were, and you felt yourself grow hot at the memories. You felt Dave place his hand under your chin and bring your face up to meet his stare. You hadn’t realized how close he was to you until that moment. Should either of you lean forward, just the smallest amount your lip would meet. You inwardly shuddered at the thought.

DAMMIT NO! You scolded yourself.

“Dave, you’re married!” You finally croaked out, snapping your head back so fast it almost hit the headboard. You watched wide-eyed as Dave threw his head back and laughed.

“That didn’t stop you before, baby girl,” he coolly replied. You felt your blood start to boil. He was married, and yet here he was acting like he wasn’t.

“I didn’t know you were married that night,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“No, but you know now, and I can tell that you still want me,” Dave smirked.

Damn him.

You shook your head, adamant not to fall under his spell, but your willpower was waning.  Dave leaned in close to your ear. “C’mon, sweet girl, you’re going to resist, Daddy?”

“Dave….” you whined, your breath hitching feeling his breath on your ear. Dave smiled and moved your face to capture your lips with his. Heat engulfed your bodies as you moaned into the kiss, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him closer to you. Dave took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and battling for dominance. You whined as you felt him bite your lip and then pull away, your lips swelling from the interaction.

“That’s what I thought,” Dave said as he got up and walked out of the room, leaving you hot and bothered.

“Fuck!” You cursed out as you brought your fingers to your lips, feeling the ghost of his kiss. “I am so fucking screwed.”

Dave was annoyed, to say the least. You’d been avoiding him for the last week since your encounter in the hallway, and he’d had enough of it. He’d spent all week watching you on the cameras, watching as you touched yourself when nobody else was home, listening to your little whines and moans. He’d spent all week listening to you pant out his name, and he’d jerked himself off to the image of being there with you. He had begrudgingly given you space this last week and studied you. He wanted to know what made you tick and see if he’d be able to get away with the plans formulating in his mind.

Carol was due back in a week, and he damn well wanted to have you before his wife was back in town, and his chance at more fun would fly out the window. Today he would take what he wanted and tease you, even if it ended up with him getting blue balls in the process. Dave had chosen today when he knew you’d be caught off guard, and boy was he glad he’d done that. Your little make-out session in your bedroom was just the beginning, and he could tell that you’d eventually give in to him. He watched you on the security feed as you laid in bed, annoyed that he’d left so abruptly, and was pleasantly surprised when you picked up your phone to call your friend Melody. Dave got onto his computer and decided to tune in to your little conversation to see what you two were chatting about.

“Hello?” Mel answered.

“Mel, I’m so fucked,” you started. He could hear Mel on the other end of the phone laugh at your words.

“What happened?” she implored.

“Dave…..He…UGH. He needs to stop being so damn sexy!” you proclaimed. Dave smirked at your antics while Mel laughed.

“I mean, he looked fine as hell when you met him; you can’t just turn that kind of sex appeal off,” she replied. You groaned, and he watched on the screen as you slapped your forehead.

“I know! It’s so bad because I want to jump his bones. Like ALL THE TIME,” you said exasperatedly. “And I hate that he’s married, Mel. It’s so fucked. I don’t know how things in their marriage are like, but Carol seems like such a nice woman.” Dave’s ears perked up at the mention of his wife.

I wonder where this is going to go, he thought as he heard you sigh into the phone.

“I know. It’s pretty fucked that he slept with you that night at the bar, but at the same time, that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know,” she consoled. “For all you know, they might have like an open marriage or some shit like that.”

“Yeah, who the fuck knows, man. But uh, you should probably know something…” You trailed off.

“Did you sleep with him?!” Mel exclaimed through the phone, both sounding concerned but also excited. "Girl, you know I wouldn’t judge you if you did, ‘cause hot damn, I’d love to be in your situation with a hot boss and all, but the whole Carol thing is just weird.”

“No, no, I didn’t sleep with him, but damn do I want to,” you replied with a laugh. “No, he just came into my room a bit ago, and fucking called me out on why I’d been avoiding him. AND THEN THE MOTHERFUCKER KISSED ME!!!” Dave could hear Mel gasp through the phone and then burst into laughter.

“Oh man, what?!”

“Yeah! He came in all serious and then was like, ‘Have you been avoiding me cuz we had sex?’ and he started fucking dirty talking, all like describing how it was when we were at the bar,” you continued.

“OH MY GOD. HOT DAMN GIRL! That’s some fucking Big Dick Energy if I ever,” Mel cackled. Dave shook his head. You girls were too much, and he liked your friend.

“I KNOW! And then he like got all close to me and just - ugh! I even called him out about how he’s married, and you know what he did? He fucking said that he knew I wanted him even after finding out he was married. It’s like he’s a goddamn spy or has eyes watching me or something!” Dave let out a chuckle at your words. Oh, if only you knew how close you were with that statement.

“Oh, man. That’s so hot,” Mel laughed.

“Yeah…But then the son of a bitch went and kissed me!” you said as you threw your head back with a groan. “And Mel, it was so fucking hot. Ugh. It seriously took everything not to rip his clothes off.”

“Oh my god!”

“I KNOW! And then the fucker had to be like ‘That’s what I thought,’ all sexy-like, and then he walked out!” You cried as you flung yourself into your bed while Mel cackled even more over the phone.

“Hot diggity damn, girl. I say you march into his office or room or wherever he is and take what you want. Better yet, tease the fucker back,” Mel suggested. You pondered her statement for a moment and grinned.

“Give him a taste of his own medicine? Fuck, I really should!”

“Do itttttttt,” Mel encouraged. “But you should be careful. Like maybe a little teasing and stuff, but until you figure out what’s going on with him and Carol, don’t cross that line, you know?”

“Yeah, good point. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, but like fuck, he makes it so hard,” you whined.

“I know, chicka, I know. Who knows, maybe he’d leave your wife for you,” she joked. “Wouldn’t that be a twist!” Dave quirked an eyebrow at her words.

I mean fuck, I never had that thought before, but the girls do love her, and we have a lot of chemistry that not even Carol and I had when we first got together, Dave thought to himself.

“Oh my god, Mel. Don’t say that! Dammit, I’m going to Hell,” you groaned out as you laughed.

“It’s ok; I’ll make sure to save you a seat!” “I feel like such a teenager right now, though, dude. Like I don’t know how I’m going to survive.”

“Take it one day at a time, but make sure to keep your head on straight. I’ll support you no matter what, you know that. If you want to pursue things with him and be happy, then go for it. Just make sure that you don’t get hurt in the long run, you know?” Mel said.

“I know, I don’t want to have to deal with another heartbreak. Especially after what happened with Tom,” you breathed into the phone with a sigh. Dave felt a ping in his heart. He knew all about your situation with your ex-boyfriend Tom and how badly that had ended. He knew all about the abuse that you’d been through at the hands of that asshole and had seen the police reports and photos of your battered face. Thankfully Tom was rotting away in prison, but only after he almost killed you. Dave felt his blood boil at the thought of someone hurting you.

“It’s going to be alright, girly,” Mel consoled. “I don’t think Dave is like Tom at all, and Tom is rotting away after what he did to you.”

“Yeah, I know….I’m just scared,” you whispered into the phone. “Anyways, I have to take a shower and run a few errands in a bit, so I’ll let you go.”

“Ok. You be careful, ok? And take care of yourself,” Mel said as you bid each other farewell and hung up. Dave watched you sit in bed for a moment and contemplated going into the room and comforting you but thought better of it.

I’m getting a little in too deep with her.

Shit.

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

[rainileo]

heyy!! i love ur blog so much! could i request joshua (seventeen) x sub/bottom reader smut with some degradation and humiliation? you can go wild with everything else 🥰

yes.

my get out of jail free card (m)

joshua x (female reader)

warnings: dom josh, humiliation, degradation, spitting, spanking, cream pie, unprotected sex, pet names, doggy style, “dudes being dudes🙄” lmao, mentions of drinking and marijuana.

lmk if i miss anything (not proof read)

a/n: this turned out to be longer than i thought sorry lmao i got carried away

5:33 pm

———————————————————

josh always thought you were naturally sexy, you always being able to make him shift in his seat uncomfortably when he watches you do daily tasks, or just anything in general (you were just that sexy). sometimes you liked to use that information to your advantage by either dressing up in something a little more revealing for fun and walking around the apartment to tease him, or maybe buying a sexy lingerie to surprise him spontaneously.

but before it was different.

josh used to despise you. you thought it was ironic, because he was all over you now, but back then, he couldn’t even look at you without getting uncomfortable. you were polar opposites and you were on the more rebellious end.

josh used to like to finish his homework early, he liked to stay in on a friday night with his small group of friends and play bored games (pun intended).

he refused to partake in the consumption and use of narcotics and alcohol, and couldn’t stand the idea of premarital sex. and then he fell in love with you, your personality and your body, practically leaving the idea of premarital sex behind and risking the idea of ending up in a forever hell all for you and his temptations. and now, you had the advantage of surprising and teasing him in this flimsy set to get him to bang the shit out if your just for the sake of it.

you now reside in your shared bedroom, checking yourself out in the head to toe mirror, clad in the set you mentioned before. you think you’re cute, and you pose to see all angles. you giggle tp yourself as you bubble with excitement, preparing to surprise josh.

you turn around, looking at yourself one more time before struting out of the room towards where your boyfriend is seated in the living room. you enter the warm room and you see him spread out of the couch that sits in the middle of the room, phone in his hand and a random show playing in the background.

“babe.” you gently call from behind him to get his attention on your figure.

“yeah.” he lazily replies, not moving his original position and keeping his eyes trained on his phone, probably texting a member or looking through social media.

you roll your eyes in irritation and attempt to complete your mission as you try again, “josh~.” you say singsongingly, and he exhales and replies again,

“what.” he says a little bit more seriously, probably getting annoyed that your bothering him while he’s busy on his phone, or because you won’t go in front of him to actually get his attention.

“joshua.” you say sternly, trying to get his attention still, and succeeding when he angrily turns around saying, “what y/n-,” angrily and he stops mid sentence, gulping, looking at you from head to toe, examining the material that sits on your body.

“oh, holy shit.” he swears and you giggle, teasingly walking towards him, swaying your hips slightly. “you shouldn’t use that tone with me like that.” you say as he completely turns his torso towards you, as his attention is completely on you now. “sorry babe, i didn’t mean to sound mean like that.” he apologizes and reaches his closer hand out to you and caresses your ass. you couldn’t tell if his hand on your ass was just a sexual gesture, if he just wanted his hand on you just for the sake of it, or if he was using his touch to apologize to you; you couldn’t tell, so you roll your eyes again over the fact that he’s completely changed his attitude now that you stand infront of him, half naked.

he blinks at you for a second and you smirk at him, and he begins speaking again, “please accept my apology baby.” he says sweetly, also lightly squeezing your ass while looking at you with the cutest eyes you can’t resist.

“ok,” you trail off and swing your hair from one side of your shoulder to the other, barely listening to his response. “but on one condition, i’ll accept your apology.” you say, pulling his hand off your backside as his face contorts in confusion due to the sentence you had just put out. “what is it?” he asks, getting out of his spot, rounding the couch to you so he can directly stand in front of you.

“you have to fuck the absolute shit out of me.” you reply, watching as his face drops in of disbelief; those words went straight to his sick to be honest.

how did he manage to snatch up a girl like you?, he thinks to himself and you shift in your spot, biting your lip, smiling and looking up at him. his eyes visibly get darker and bhs bites his lip, instinctively moving closer to you.

“go to the bedroom now.” he instructs for you to do and you follow his orders as you turn around in the direction of the room, walking away teasingly, swaying your hips again. he slaps your ass and shamelessly watches your ass as you walk away.

a lot of his band mates also used to tease him about the way he would respectfully look away from you when you were naked or changing and etcetera. they later explained to him that it’s ok to check her if you guys are dating, (if she allows it that is). he later completely understood it after years of avoiding your body and now you’re like his personal playboy magazine.

——————————————————

you had finally made your way to your shared room, comfortably positioning yourself on your bed, waiting for him to come into the room.

your heart began to pound a little when you watch him walk through the doo. he runs his hands through his hair as he continues his stride over to you. “it’s almost like using a get out of jail free card whenever you do this.” he says coming to a stop in front of the bottom edge of the bed to stare at where you’re seated on the middle of the bed.

you giggle at his joke as you shift towards him on your knees, coming up in front of him and reaching your hands out to the bottom of his shirt and playing with it to get him a little riled up.

“yeah? and why is that?” your curiosity causes a smile to break out on his face. “i don’t even have to try to get into your pants.” he answers truthfully, leaning into you to kiss you roughly.

the kiss is demanding and causes you to fight for dominance between the two of you. he obviously wins when he shoves his tongue into your mouth and you comply, allowing him to explore your mouth.

he suddenly pulls away and begins, “babe.” he now sternly looks in your eyes with only lust. it immediately grabs your attention and you clench around nothing, feeling yourself pulse in excitement. “yes?” you say biting your lip and looking back at him. you try to hold a smile back as he grips your hips and pulls your entire body right against his. “what do you want?” he asks, his tone now darker as he moves his hands down to your ass and strokes slightly. “you.” you sigh out, wrapping your arms around his neck,

“well i would hope that you would want me.” he jokes, pinching your ass and you laugh at his joke for a second and press yourself even closer to him, now feeling his friend completely hard down against your thigh.

“seriously babe, what do you want, my fingers? my mouth?” he asks again, stroking your hips and legs. you smile to yourself as you speak out, “i want you to eat me out, and then i want you to fuck the shit out of me.” you say as you reach down to palm him and he grunts, gripping your backside tightly.

“yeah, i can do that.” he breathlessly says, grabbing your thighs to wrap your legs around his hips so he can move you two more easily on the bed.

once he situates you at the pile of pillows at the the top of the bed, you begin to make out again. the both of you are fighting for dominance again and it’s messy, spit begins to dribble between your mouths on your chin. you moan into his mouth and he grips your thighs to place it over his shoulders to position himself comfortably against you. he moves his left hand beside your head for balance while wrapping his right around your neck, lightly asphyxiating you. he shoves his tongue into your mouth again and you moan against him as he also starts to grind against your core. “josh.” you both let go of the kiss and a string of saliva stays between the two of you as you part. “what?” he asks as you grip the arm that is wrapped around your neck with both of your hands.

he’s in awe when he looks down to see the full sight of his hand wrapped around your neck as your smaller hands grip his large, veiny arm for leverage.

you look at him with pleading eyes, the friction of him grinding against you not being enough to stimulate your core. “please.” he breathes out at the sound of your voice, it now changing into a lighter tone due to your submissive position now.

he laughs at your sudden weakness and pushes on. “y/n, you have to use your words.” he says, stopping the movements against your hips, ceasing all pleasure now. your eyes begin to tear up as anger boils in your chest. you know he knows what you want, but he won’t give in, he likes to tease you and break you until your confidence has completely vanished.

“please go down there.” you attempt to speak out, voice hoarse due to his grip around your neck. “what’s down there baby? you tell me.” he continues as he leans down to your ear. “m-my pussy.” you say, voice just above a whisper, too ashamed to say it out loud. “you can be louder than that, come on slut.” the nickname goes straight to your center as he pressures you and you give in, “my pussy,” you respond louder. he laughs at you again and you close your eyes to avoid his gaze, cheeks hearing in embarrassment.

he thinks it’s entertaining how bold you were a few moments ago, you now falling into sub space as you impatiently wait for him to pleasure you.

“yeah? and what do you want me to do to your pussy again?” he continues to push on, now right into your ear. you feel his heavy breath against your skin and you tingle all over.

“i...” you exhale, squeezing your eyes shut as he begins to place light kisses against your sweet spot on your neck. “i want you to eat me out.” you finish, a tear falling down your face in anticipation. his chest pushes off of your as he lifts himself off if you to look into your eyes deeply.

“that’s pathetic.” he spits out, hand still on your neck, occasionally squeezing it still. you frown and open your eyes to see what he’s doing and when you do, hes just staring.

“are you gonna take it like a good girl?” he questions, moving his left hand from it original position to stroke your side. he inches closer to your boob and when he reaches them, he lets go of his grip around his neck and completely leans back on his knees. he pushes the material of the bra over your boobs to let them fall out of it confines.

your boobs sit out in the open air and your nipples begin to harden under the slightly cool air. he brings both his hands to your chest and begins massaging them, pulling your nipples occasionally. you moan at his ministrations and he tenses in his pants in anticipation for you.

he reaches around your body, impressively undoing the bra and it easily falls off your chest and he throws it to the side of the bed. he leans back in again and admires your body. he continues with your underwear and pulls them down your legs and throws them across the room somewhere. he gives short kisses down your torso towards your center, leaving deep purple marks in his wake.

———————————————————

your back arches as he hits the specific spot inside you while he is knuckle deep with his fingers moving strategically inside you. your moans are so beautiful to him as he eats you out strategically. youre roughly gripping at his hair out of pleasure, face contorting from the pleasure he offers you.

“fuck josh.” you spit out, throwing your head back against the pillows and smirks at your reactions and begins sucking on your clit again, trying to bring you to your edge. “does it feel good?” he questions, letting go of your bundle of nerves and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. you nod furiously, too caught up in the pleasure to properly respond. he chuckles at your answer and continues with his ministrations.

his fingers keep their same pace as his mouth alternates between liking, biting, sucking, and the odd time, spitting. “fucking slut.” he says, creating a glob of spit in his mouth as he backs away from your core, still fingering you. he spits the glob on you and you sit up to lean on your elbows to get a better view of him deliciously eating you out.

“you like it when i eat you like this, finger fucking your tight pussy open, right?” he questions and your face contorts out of pleasure when he hits the spot again.

“fuck-, yes, it feels so good, i love it.” you quickly reply as you continue to watch him with your mouth falling open slowly. he hums as he begins to suck around you again, feeling the pleasure build up inside you. “i’m close.” you breathlessly let out to tell him before it’s too late. he continues and your legs shake as you get closer to your edge. “are you?” you nod and your eyes begin to roll back into your head. he looks up at you and feels like he’ll almost cum in his pants just by the way you look alone.

your elbows give in and you end up with your back flat on the mattress with josh laughing between your legs, which added to the sensations which also made the coil snap and caused you to begin arching your back in the air. you moan out and grip his hair tighter and tighter, biting your lip and slumping on the mattress, heart pounding as your orgasm washes over you.

“look at you, such a cum slut, right princess?” he ask, moving up from between your legs. you open your mouth to respond but soon close it not trusting what sound could come out of your mouth. he grips your arms that lay lifelessly on your side and he pulls you up and flips you on your stomach. everything happens so fast and you have to think about it after you were manhandled by him.

“ass up babe.” he demands and you listen, quickly getting into the position. he grabs your arms again and pinning them behind your back. your head was planted onto the sheets so you try to move your head down so you can get a good look at the man behind you. when you successfully shift your head, he immediately makes eye contact with you. he gives you a side smile in response to the way you look at him desperately, still biting your lips to hold in your needy moans.

“josh please.” you whine lightly, trying to entice him to place his member inside of you, or even just taking his clothes off in the first place would be just as good. he leans down to your face again and roughly grips your hair in his hand and pulls your head to make you look at him directly. you moan out at his sudden roughness and he begins, “what do you want me to do, slut?” he questions, slightly gripping your hair rougher to make you pay attention. “i want you to pound my pussy.” you sob, a shaky hand going to his hand in your hair.

he finally gives in when he lets go of your hair and begins stripping himself. he grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head; you watch him intently, tears beginning to fall down your face again slightly, your body overwhelmed from the aftershocks of your orgasm. he throws the shirt somewhere in the room and then begins unbuttoning the pants. you close your eyes as he pulls his pants down.

another tear slips from your eyes as you squeeze them closed, also simultaneously squeezing your thighs together to get friction on your core to ease the pulse.

when he’s done taking his pants off, he toses them on the floor and watches you desperately rub your legs together.

“fucking slut, can’t even wait for me to touch you again.” he comments, placing his wet tip to your dripping pussy and rubbing it through the folds. you moan out and grip the sheets, waiting for him to put it in.

“please put it in josh.” you whine out, red eyes opening and looking at him straight in the eyes again, and when you guys make eye contact, he grabs your hair and turns your head on your chin and arches your back further with a hand on your lower back as well.

with the hand on the lower back, he grabs his dick again and pushes it into you perfectly. his dick slides in and be immediately begins pounding into you from behind. he lets go of your hair and comfortably positions himself to get a better grip for fucking you rougher.

he continues to roughly fuck you with the same hard pace, which makes you moan out loudly. “f-fuck please.” your voice comes out in a bizarre pattern with the noise of his hips slapping against you and you listen to it and enjoy his breathless pants behind you as well.

“please what babe?” he breathlessly asks, spanking you roughly and you moan out in response to the action and he rubs the area soothingly to ease your pain slightly. “please make me cum again.” you weakly answer, eyes fluttering shut when you feel his tip brush against the spot.

he scoffs in disbelief, “one orgasm wasn’t enough?” you internally groan, just wanting him to make you cum. you decide to move your hand down to your core to try and rub yourself to release. he notices that and grips your arm tightly and pulls it out from underneath you. he roughly spanks you and you yelp, free hand living to your side to grip the sheets.

“i didn't fucking say you could touch yourself.” he grunts out, pace quickening slightly. you moan out, mouth dropping open as you furrow your brows. you move your head onto it’s side again to situate yourself in a better position. his pace is relentless, causing the wind to be knocked out if your lungs now.

“josh~.” you whine at him breathlessly, the force of his thrust pushing you up the best.

he takes his free and and wraps it around your stomach to find your core and begins to roughly rub your spot perfectly, causing you to arch further into the bed. he groans out at your reaction and continues his movements, bringing you to your edge quickly.

his hands are both occupied, one roughly rubbing your core and the other that managed to travel back up to your hair again. his hand grips your hair even more tighter, making you yelp and squeeze your eyes shut.

you clench tightly around him in response to the pleasure you’re both feeling as you feel your end approaching as you let go of your grip around him, walls fluttering after your legs shake and quiver around his hand.

you begin to give out when your head falls to the side on the bed again and feel the coil in your gut snap and your orgasm washes over you. you let out a long loud moan, then slumping into the mattress, letting him fuck you like a toy so he can reach his high.

“you got what you wanted slut.” he says as he removes his hand from your center and begins another pace to bring himself to the edge. you keep your eyes closed as he uses you, letting him do whatever he wants.

“fuck yes” he expresses one last time, his hips stuttering against you, letting out a deep groan and cumming deep inside of you.

he lets go of your hair and whatever else he was gripping and leans over you and slumps. he relaxes his heavy body above you and both stay like that for a few minutes to catch your breaths.

“you ok?” he questions, pulling himself out of you and watching his cum drop out of you. you sigh and he pushes himself up off of above you so you can move freely from your uncomfortable position. you move your hands to beside your head and push yourself up and turn yourself to sit face to face to him. “i’m good.” you smile at him and he smiles back, leaning in and placing his hand on your neck, giving you a sloppy but sweet kiss.

“did you enjoy it?” he lets go of the kiss and asks sweetly, his dominant gone and replaced with his usual soft demeanor.

“yea i did, thank you for that.” you say, climbing into his arms and straddling him lap again and he gladly lets you sit comfortably on him.

“no, thank you babe, i kinda needed that.” he replies, kissing you again and placing his hands on your hips again. you smile against his lips and you pull away for a second to speak again. “how about a shower?” you ask and he smiles at though of a nice warm shower featuring your naked body at the moment. “yeah let’s have a shower.” he retorts and kisses you again.

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 5

Word count: 4.0K

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Adam: You followed me

I stare at the three words, blinking with tired eyes. All I want to do is sleep, especially after the day I’ve had with Holden, but the baby decided kicking me was more important. So here I am at four o’clock in the morning checking my social media when I should be getting another three hours of sleep.

I rub my eyes, unsure of how to even respond to the message.

It’s just a statement. I feel flabbergasted by it- really, we haven’t talked in years- well, technically months, but the last time we saw each other we just fucked, and our child went to see him without my knowledge or consent. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to those three words?

Y/N: I think we need to talk.

I sigh, setting my phone down. Might as well get straight to the point. The sooner I tell him about the second baby and ask why he would see Holden without at least running it past me the better. I roll over, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Hopefully I can sleep at least a little bit longer. I’m going to need it to deal with the moody adolescent I’ll be seeing in the morning.

~

“I made some toast and bacon. Just let me just finish cutting up these strawberries and then breakfast will be ready,” I inform Holden as he hops down the stairs.

He picks up the filled plate waiting for him on the table, throwing the food into the trashcan and setting the plate on the counter, giving me an expectant look.

I stare blankly back at him. I know he’s waiting for a reaction. He wants me to blow up so then he feels okay yelling at me instead of starting the confrontation himself. Instead, I just say, “That’s wasteful.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing his backpack from its usual spot by the door and making his way outside, letting it slam shut behind him. I release the breath that I’ve been holding in, popping a strawberry into my mouth.

I open my Instagram app to catch up on the posts that I’ve missed, freezing when I see that I’ve received a DM. I forgot that I sent a message to Adam last night. Well, technically this morning. After I sent the message, I passed out hard, and I thought the whole thing was a fever dream.

Adam: What about?

Adam: Here’s my number

My fingers tap the screen quietly as I add his phone number into my contacts, saving it and staring at it blankly.

Well. No time like the present.

Before I can even realize what I’m doing, before I can even think things through and decide what to say or whether this is a good idea or not, or hell, even what time it is in Chicago right now, I click on the phone icon.

I curse to myself, raising the phone to my ear. Absentmindedly, my hand raises to my mouth so I can chew on my fingernail. Nail-biting is a nervous habit that I gave up years ago, but I guess old habits die hard.

“Hello?” His groggy voice comes through the phone.

I can’t breathe.

The oxygen gets stuck in my lungs. All I can think about are his hands on my body, sliding down to grip my hips. The twinkle in his eyes as I would pull my shirt over my head.

And not to mention the last time I saw him. His hair is longer than he used to keep it, but it suits him. It looks good on him. And he bulked up since the last time I saw him, too- his abs definitely looked and felt like it, anyways.

“Hello?” He repeats, sounding more awake and borderline annoyed now.

“Adam,” I respond softly, suddenly feeling shy. Come on, where did my confidence go? I’ll need it to get through this conversation.

“Y/N,” he says, all sounds of annoyance out of his voice. “You actually called, I didn’t think that you would-“”Sorry for waking you up,” I blurt out, glancing at the clock and seeing that it’s seven in the morning here. Chicago is an hour behind Philadelphia- it’s what kept me from calling the boys on the team late at night for several years.

“Oh, no, no, don’t you ever worry about that,” he reassures me. It’s quiet. I know he’s waiting for me to speak, to let him know what I want to talk to him about, but I just can’t get the words out. I feel them stuck in my throat, clawing to escape. “So, how’s Holden?”

And there it is.

That question is what spurs me to speak, to dig into the man who hid a huge secret like that from me. But I guess I’m doing the same thing to him now.

“I don’t know, how is he, Adam?” I spit out.

He sighs. He sighs. I want to punch his perfect fucking face.

“If I had realized that you had such a problem with it-“”Such a problem with it?” I repeat, not believing my own ears. Suddenly I’m reminded of why I decided not to tell Adam about this baby and why he wasn’t ready to be in Holden’s life for thirteen years. Hell, it sounds like he’s still not ready.

“My son lied to me about his intentions of going to Chicago, traveled halfway across the country by himself, and saw someone who he’s never met before. Yes, I have a fucking problem with it,” I growl.

“Our son.”

“What?”

“He’s our son. You said my son.”

All I want to do right now is to reach through this tiny screen and hit him upside the head. Really, after I lay out all of my concerns, this is all he has to say to me?

“Whatever. When are you coming to Philadelphia next?” I question. I don’t want to air all of grievances and talk about the new baby over the phone. I’ve had enough communication classes to know that you need to see someone’s nonverbal behaviors instead just hearing what they have to say.

“Why? You want to see me?” Suggestion laces his tone.

No, asshole, you already got me pregnant again.

“Yes. We need to talk about Holden… and some other things,” my voice trails off at the end, not sure how to warn him about such big news.

“Some other things, eh? Well, I’ll be looking forward to that,” he responds, clearly thinking that it’s something regarding us and our relationship, well, our dislike or lust for one another or something, instead of picking up what I’m trying to hint at.

“Cool. So, can you take a trip to Philly sometime soon or are you going to wait until hockey season?” I inquire.

“I can take a trip there, just for you. And Holden, of course.”

I can’t help but let a small smile slip onto my face. That sentence shows me that he’d be a good dad if he just put in the effort. It infuriates me that he’s kept that from Holden for years just because he hasn’t felt like working towards a relationship with his son.

“Good. Let me know when you’re in town so we can meet up.”

“What? You’re not going to invite me to stay with you?”

“Goodbye, Adam.” I hang up before he can respond. All I can imagine the rest of the day is his reaction after that phone call. He would have that small, knowing smile on his face, pulling his phone out of his pocket every five minutes to check and see if he got a new text from me or to send the fifth one in a row to me- one that I still would not respond to.

And my heart skips a beat at the thought of that.

~

It’s been a week since the phone call and since Adam sent me a screenshot of his booked ticket to Philadelphia two weeks from then. For some reason, maybe it’s the stupid, hopeless romantic part in me, I had hoped that he would book his plane ticket and hotel room for that night or even the next day. But he told me he had some ‘lose ends’ to tie up in Chicago before leaving.

And it’s also been a week since Holden has said a word to me. I’ve tried talking to him. I’ve asked him about his day, his friends, cooked him his favorite meals all week, I even offered to take him to Target to get a new video game.

None of that has worked. And it hurts. It hurts knowing that after everything I’ve done for him and everything I’ve sacrificed for him, and how Adam has done none of that, he looks at Adam like a God and me like the scum on the bottom of his shoe.

I know it’s what I’m supposed to do as a mother, care for my son and make sure he’s happy, but it’s just- it’s just- ugh.

I start to feel my blood boil as my mom’s voice echoes in the back of my head. Life’s not fair.

It’s then that I realize that I’ve given him enough space and time to figure out his feelings and how he wants to proceed. I don’t want to give him too much space that he begins to resent me and feel like I don’t care about him.

I know that feeling all too well.

I knock on his bedroom door softly, waiting for him to open it before I just walk in. It creeks open slightly, and just as I expected, eyes matching my mom’s peek out to glare at me.

“Can I talk to you, Holden?”

He doesn’t respond, just stares at me.

“Please, you don’t even have to talk, just listen,” I beg.

Fortunately, he opens the door the rest of the way, watching as I walk into his room and sit gently on the edge of the bed. He sits down on his worn computer chair, laptop open to some video game I don’t recognize on his desk.

“I want to start by apologizing for yelling at you last week,” I begin, taking a deep breath. Apologizing isn’t something that comes easy to me- I grew up in a family where the words ‘I’m sorry’ were unheard of. My parents were always right, and I was always wrong.

“I realize it probably wasn’t easy for you to go to Chicago by yourself to meet your dad. Holden, I just want you to realize that I would do anything to protect you, and I love you with my whole heart so realizing that you were in such an emotionally taxing situation without talking to me about it first-“I pause to sniffle, starting to feel tears well up in my eyes. “I felt helpless. And I couldn’t stop wondering why you didn’t feel like you could share that with me and then I realized that it’s because I don’t share stuff with you either.”

He watches as I lift my sleeve, wiping the tears from under my eyes. His face is still blank, but his eyes look like they’ve softened. He’s understanding my words so far.

“So, yes, this baby is also Adam’s baby. And he did ask about you when I saw him back in February, but I let my pride get the best of me and I told him that he didn’t deserve to see you. I’m sorry for robbing you of meeting your father earlier,” I genuinely apologize, maintaining eye contact with my son.

He shifts in his seat, his hard exterior softening with every word. “Well, I’m sorry for calling you a shitty mother. And saying all of that other stuff. And, if it makes you feel better, I did go to the computer programming camp. I just saw Adam when we had a night off.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nods.

“What did he tell you? About not being involved in your life?” I ask carefully, curious as to what Adam told Holden to turn him against me like that.

“He just told me that he was working through some stuff,” he shrugs, acting like he doesn’t care but I know my son well enough to tell that he does. “And he wasn’t ready until recently to meet me.”

I bite my tongue to keep it from releasing an insult towards Adam. “And how does that make you feel?”

“Honestly?” I nod, probing him to go on. “Pretty awful. I don’t think I want a relationship with him, mom.”

A mix of emotions run through my body at his word. I feel anxious, because now I have to tell him that Adam’s coming next week and will want to see him, sadness, because my son now recognizes how his father did not want be involved in his life, and anger toward Adam for making him feel like this in the first place.

“Well,” I cough awkwardly. “He’s coming to Philadelphia next week. I’m going to meet him to tell him about the baby. If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. It’s all up to you, bud.”

I stand up slowly, rubbing my belly as the baby begins to kick. He always seems to do that whenever I move even just a little bit- he’s an active little guy.

“Oh,” I turn back around just as I’m about to close the door. “How did you even find out who your father is?”

“Please mom, I’m not stupid,” he grins slyly at me, sliding his headphones onto his neck. “You lived in Chicago when you got pregnant with me and worked for the Blackhawks. I figured, since you said you worked a lot, the only guys you really had a chance to be with were on the team. And when I asked you about my dad for that project for school you said he was Swedish, so I just went to the Blackhawks roster in 2020 and found the Swedish players, messaging them some really uncomfortable and intrusive messages on Instagram.”

I chuckle at that, shaking my head. It will never not blow my mind how clever and smart he is. As I close the door to his bedroom, I hear him say, “On the plus side, Alex Nylander is a really nice guy.”

~

The day is finally here. Being eighteen weeks pregnant makes it really hard to hide my baby bump, but I somehow manage to find a baggy sweatshirt that I’ve stolen from one of my ex-boyfriends to cover it up. I don’t want to walk into the restaurant we’re meeting at and have him immediately know.

Somehow my jeans still fit on my legs, but I have a feeling by the end of this lunch they’ll be unbuttoned. It’s just the way it goes sometimes.

I get to the restaurant before Adam, just like how I planned it. I wanted time to scope out my exits in case I need to bail halfway through this meal- knowing Adam, it’s a possibility. I haven’t thought through what I was going to say too much.

I know I need to talk to him about why he would keep Holden going to Chicago to see him a secret from me, and we need to talk about the baby.

But mostly I just want to hear him grovel. The secret, sadistic part of me wants to hear him beg for forgiveness for making me raise my child by myself for the past thirteen years. I want to hear him admit that he fucked up- I’ve never heard Adam Boqvist admit that he fucked up before.

He shows up two minutes late.

I know because my phone is sitting face up on the table and I click on it every five seconds to see what time it is. I tell myself that if it gets ten minutes past noon and he’s still not here, I’m going home and giving up on dealing with Adam ever again.

But then he’s standing in front of me, familiar toothy grin on his face, black beanie on his shaggy hair, and a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

“You’re late,” I state sternly, not letting any sign of emotion onto my face. I need to let him know I mean business. I need to let him know that I’m never getting into bed with him ever again.

“Yeah, sorry, there was a line at the grocery store,” his grin begins to slip, but as he holds the bouquet out towards me, it takes over his face once again. “I got you these.”

“Thanks.”

I don’t make any movement towards them. His smile falls once again and I begin to feel guilty- he did buy these flowers for me, but he also impregnated me and left me twice.

He slides into the chair across the table from me, setting the flowers on the table and coughing awkwardly. “So, have you ordered yet?”

“Just water,” I respond shortly.

“Do you want to split a bottle of wine?”

“I’m not really a day drinker,” I eye him over the top of my menu, then go back to skimming through the items. It’s a charade, though. I already know what I want.

“Are you two ready to order?” The peppy waitress appears at our side, notepad open in her hand.

“I’ll have the chicken alfredo,” I announce, folding my menu.

“I’ll take that too. And a bottle of your sweetest wine, please,” the blonde orders, passing his menu to the waitress. When she leaves, he turns back to me. “I know you like the sweet stuff.”

I take a deep breath, deciding to cut to the chase. I’d rather get through this meal as soon as possible. The sooner we get done talking about this stuff, the sooner I can get out of here.

“Adam, I’m pregnant.”

He chokes on the sip of water he’s just taken from his glass, water dripping down his chin and landing on the table in front of him. I can’t help but watch with a content smile as he coughs, trying to catch his breath.

“Excuse me?” He utters through coughs, wiping his chin with a napkin.

“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “I’m due in November.”

“Well, uh, congratulations,” he says unsurely.

I roll my eyes, muttering, “You clearly haven’t gotten smarter since last time.”

He seems to catch on to the hidden meaning behind my comment, his eyes widening. “Oh is it- since we-“”It’s your baby,” I conclude bluntly.

A smirk begins to spread across his face. I can’t believe it. He’s smirking just after I told him that he got me pregnant accidentally for the second time.

“Why do you have that look?” I snap.

“My little swimmers work pretty well, don’t they?” He inquires confidently, sipping from his water and succeeding this time.

I lean across the table, turning it on him. “I don’t know, do they? Are there any half-siblings that I need to worry about?”

The smirk is replaced by a look of genuineness now. It startles me, the sudden change of emotions. “No, it’s you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

I lean back in my seat, the sudden seriousness too much for me to bear. I fiddle with the napkin sitting next to my glass, avoiding eye contact with him. “Yeah, so it’s a boy.”

“Another boy,” he echoes my very thoughts the moment I found out the sex.

I grin at the thought of my second child. When he’s been kicking me at night and keeping me awake, I think about what he’s going to be like. Is he going to cry a lot or is he going to be a quiet baby like Holden was? Will I have to keep an eye on him every minute or will I be able to get some breaks?

And what about when he’s older. Will he like hockey like his dad? Would he like the Flyers because we live in Philadelphia, or would he like the Blackhawks because his dad plays for them?

“Speaking of boys, how is Holden doing? He hasn’t been responding to my texts lately.” Adam means for the question to sound casual, but I can hear the undertone of worry in his voice. Maybe he isn’t as much of a shitty father as I think he is.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” I confess.

He doesn’t bother to hide the hurt on his face. I don’t expect him to. I know how it feels to feel unwanted and unloved by your child- I felt it when Holden told me that I’m a shitty mother. And although Adam deserves the consequences to his actions, I can’t help but feel a small amount of pity for him.

“I deserve that,” he sighs.

“You do,” I agree, knowing that I’m shoving the knife deeper into his heart. “But just give him time to decide what he wants to do. It’s all so fresh to him.”

He gives me a small, vulnerable smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me that he was going to see you while he was in Chicago, Adam?” I ask him the question I’ve been dying to ask ever since I found out about the situation.

He shrugs, not saying a word.

“Yes, you do know,” I persist. “So just fucking tell me. Enough of the bullshit, we’re in our thirties now. It’s time to focus on the children, not your fucking pride.”

He looks baffled by my sudden outburst, but it inspires him to answer. “I was afraid that if you found out, you would stop him. Then I’d never get to meet my son.”

“I would have stopped him,” I agreed, causing him to open his mouth to begin arguing with me. I start to speak again before he can begin. “And reschedule the trip to a time that works better with my work schedule so that I could go with him. Yes, you’re his father, but you’ve never been in his life. You’re essentially a stranger to him.”

He narrows his eyes at me like my words are a challenge. “Not anymore.”

I narrow my eyes at him now. “Really? What’s his middle name? When is his birthday? What’s his favorite color?”

He doesn’t respond and I scoff, taking a sip of my water again. “That’s what I thought.”

We’re quiet as the waitress returns with our meals. I cut my noodles, taking a bite of my food.

“I don’t want it to be that way with this baby,” he says, quickly adding, “And Holden anymore. I want to be there for this baby from the start. Or from now, I guess. And I want to be there for Holden, if he ever wants me.”

Mixed feelings begin to flush through my body. This is what I wanted for my kids from the beginning, an active father figure. And Adam’s offering it now, but why am I still feeling so hesitant?

After years of expecting him to step up as a parent and him never doing it, I have reasonable doubts when it comes to Adam’s parenting ability.

“Well, you know it’s up to Holden. You can’t force him to like you,” I begin slowly, trying to phrase my words in the best way possible. “But with this second baby… we can try it. I have a doctor’s appointment in two days. I’ll text you the address and time.”

“But my flight leaves tomorrow,” he whines. “Can’t you just reschedule for today?”

“You have so much to learn, Adam,” I shake my head. “I just hope you realize that being a parent means that you’re selfless more than selfish. Tell you what, go back to Chicago if you want to. But if you go back to Chicago, the only time you’ll communicate with the boys is when they want to talk to you.”

[shotofire]

omg thank you so much xd, that was so hilarious i couldn't stop laughing 😂, you're amazing never stop writing, i would like another oneshot modern levi if you dont mind, but this time his girlfriend prank him doing the challenge "pretending to give him a head/blowjob" thank you you're amazing 🖤🖤

I never mind your requests! It makes me so happy to see them in my inbox :p Thank you, you’re so sweet!!! I had to look up what this prank was lol but I the gist of it

•MODERN!LEVI x F!READER

•Warnings: cursing, smut... but not all the way

•Season: Not set within the show

(This is sort of a part two for, Who the hell is Mike?, some parts may be confusing if you haven’t read it)

-

Your best friend Angel bursted out laughing as you told her what had happened with Levi. It had been a week since you gave him a mini heart attack. Her eyes filled with tears as the laughing continued, she definitely found it comical.

Even more so, she wishes you recorded it. Of course doing what you did was out of character for you in general, so recording was definitely a no go. Plus it’s not like you’d post it, so what’s the point.

“I’m trying to imagine this face you’re describing,” she lets out more childish giggles, “he scrunched up his nose? What if that’s like his jealous tick?”

It probably was, you’d never seen him do something like that before in all the years you two had been together. He was always calm and tried not to show expression, unless smiling, so seeing him do something so out of the ordinary was interesting.

“I don’t know, it may be,” you said and watched how her eyes sparkled with curiosity. Some part of you felt bad for what you had done, but Levi assured you it was okay. He even went as far as to say it was funny now that he knew you weren’t serious. He still would randomly tickle you and say it’s punishment for what you had done, but it was just an excuse to attack your sides and hear your uncontrollable laughter.

Even a week later he was still coming up behind you and holding you still while tickling you until he felt satisfied. It was okay for a few days but now he was just trying to annoy you, but in a way you deserved it. You had made him think you were cheating on him with some guy named Mike, so tickling was nothing compared to that.

Angel pulled out her phone, “I have something else you should do!” You raised your eyebrows skeptically, but she was already smiling. If it was something else that would hurt his heart you weren’t sure if you could do it.

Yes the facial expressions he made out of jealousy were hilarious to say the least, but his eyes had also softened in worry and hurt. That was something you didn’t want to see again. It showed you how much he loved you, and how the thought of you breaking the trust you’d built for many years scared him so much in that moment.

She showed you the video and you were kind of confused, just like the last time. It was a girl putting her hair up and leaning towards her, most likely, boyfriend then diverting her attention to something else. Angel laughed out loud, “Imagine Levi with that look of disappointment in his eyes.” You still were lost at what was going on and she noticed. She wanted to call you an oldie, but decided against it.

You truly were left out of the loop sometimes, but at the same time Angel admired that. It was rare in this day and age to have no desire for social media, and you probably had a healthier mindset than her.

The girl couldn’t help but roll her eyes at your confused state. “She made him think she was about to give him head, but she reached for the remote beside him and turned on the tv,” she explained like it was the most obvious thing ever. Maybe you didn’t get it because you never put your hair up when giving Levi a blowjob, he had a thing for holding your hair himself. You honestly didn’t think you could pull this one off due to that, Levi probably would just think you’re putting your hair up cause you feel like it.

“So uh, I don’t put my hair up when I give Levi head,” you admit with a blush, “he usually holds my hair for me.” Her eyes automatically widen and she lets out a snort at how embarrassed you were saying that. “Then you’re going to have to do something extra so he does think you’re gonna give him head,” she says with her hands waving in the air.

You let out a nervous chuckle unsure of how you’d even be able to do that. The idea was to make it seem like you were going to but at the same time not going to. You weren’t that skilled in the acting department.

Levi probably would tickle you till you can’t breath if you did something to mess with him again. But this wasn’t harmful for his sweet heart at all, the most it would do is give him blue balls. He could definitely live with that, he gets enough action out of you. The man may be older but he definitely still had a crazy sex drive. So, that made it even a better reason to mess with his hormones.

When a smile spread across your face Angel knew you’d made up you mind. “Look at you getting involved with the trends, I feel like a proud Mom,” she squealed with pure happiness. Heat rises to your cheeks, the girl had once again convinced you to mess with your boyfriend.

“Stop, you’re making me feel old,” you griped but had a playful smile on your face. She shakes her head at you and giggles before pulling up more video to show you.

Levi came home earlier than usual, Angel was still sitting on your couch talking up a storm. He thought she was a good friend, but he didn’t appreciate what she had convinced you to do a week ago. “You’re home early,” you said with a smile. You liked when he got off work at this time, it gave you two longer to spend time with one another. “Erwin gave me the rest of the week off with pay as a Christmas present,” he chuckled a bit remembering how awkward Erwin was as he called it a Christmas present.

You let out a light squeal and wrap your arms around him, “That’s so sweet! Now I get you all to myself.” Levi watched as your brows wiggled with suggestion and he smirked. “Well, I guess i’ll leave my favorite love birds alone,” Angel said with a fake frown. You gave her a hug and she was off, leaving you with Levi.

“Let’s watch a movie,” you propose, “we haven’t sat down and watched one in so long.” He agrees with the idea and you hug him once again. This was part of your plan, to be all clingy. Sure you two were attached at the hip but constant touching from you usually meant something. Plus you were getting him to be still, which was hard.

The man always wanted to catch up with work, but tonight he had no reason to, It was all falling into place. As if the universe wanted you to fuck with him again.

After Levi changed out of his work clothes into something comfortable it was really starting to set into motion. You’d already picked out the movie, made popcorn, and grabbed a hair tie from the bathroom. Purposely, you set the bowl of popcorn on the table next to Levi’s usually side of the couch. All the lights were out besides the luminosity of the television. “You sure are eager to watch a movie,” he said with a quirked brow. You’d already taken your seat on the couch and Levi followed suit.

You giggled at his words and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He kissed you back, expect on the nose, and your heart warmed at the gesture. He was making it harder to follow through with your devious plan. Why did he have to be such a sweetie? Minute after minute went by and your hands stayed on Levi. Wether it was playing with his hair, or holding his hand, you were being a touchy fanatic.

Right after you gave him a peck on the neck you knew it was time of time to trick him. His shoulders perked up when your lips had met his neck, sending a shock to his stomach. You sat up some and took the band off of your wrist before messily putting your hair up. Levi was looking at you with hungry eyes, you’d definitely fooled him.

You turned towards him and rested your palm on his lap. His heart was starting to beat faster and his body was becoming hot. Right as he thought you were about to kiss him you kept leaning past his face, grabbing the bowl of popcorn next to him instead. You leaned back into the couch and set the dish in your lap. Shock grew within him as you started to eat away as if nothing happened. As if you hadn’t made him turn into a horny mess within the span of 15 seconds.

It was so hard to not laugh at the confused and dumbfounded expressions on his face. In a way, to him, this was on a different level of cruel. His dick was straining in his pants as you stuffed your mouth with popcorn. “What was that about?” he finally said, not caring much about the movie anymore. You raised your brows in confused and munched away, “What are you talking about baby?”

He put the back on his hand over his eyes and slid it down his face. The last thing he wanted to do was be an asshole because he thought he was getting head. He kept telling himself he misread the situation and was being too much of an aroused fuck. But when you started giggling up a storm he knew you’d done it on purpose.

“It was Angels idea wasn’t it?” You nodded as an answer, still consumed with giggles. He huffed at you before grabbing your hand and put on his crotch. The feeling of his bulge made you almost automatically stop with your childish sounds. “See how easily you got me worked up?” you didn’t say anything, only watched as his grey eyes darkened in desire.

The action made you gulp. He grabbed the bowl of popcorn and set it back on the table next to him. You yelped as his strong hands pulled you onto his lap. Levi wasn’t going to let you win this time, he’d be damned if Angel laughed later on as you explained it. He was going to punish you in a different way now, one that would leave you screaming.

“I bet you’re a little worked up too,” his finger traces your collar bone and you can’t help but shiver. He bucked his hips a bit, making his member hit the right spot on your heat. When you let out a slight whimper he knew you were wrapped around his finger this time. You felt your parts become ignited from his touch. He definitely wasn’t holding back.

“I’m gonna make you beg for me to stop,” he whispers in your ear with his deep voice. Strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you to the bedroom. Your stomach is filled with excitement and your heard is starting to spin at the adrenaline rush.

Once he sets you down on the bed his lips start to attack your neck. Sucking and biting almost every inch, moans slip past your lips in ecstasy. His hands play with your chest only adding to the feeling, and you’re in a fit on pleasure.

Your vision is blurred as his hands snake under your shirt. Lips move away for a second to lift the clothing over your head. You should have known Levi would react like this, he wasn’t going to let you get your way again.

Fingers looped around the waistband of your fuzzy pajama bottoms, slipping them off your legs. He kisses the inside of your thighs with wet lips which causes your breathing to become more uneven. His hands pressed into your sides once his mouth began to hover over your clothed core. His hot breath so close to where you needed him most made your body feel like jelly.

“Beg for it,” he whispers with a smirk plastered across his beautiful features. That’s when you knew he had a long night planned for the two of you.

[janedoe-eyes]

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 -  I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while  she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered  this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked  to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received  another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her  with  concern. Marinette  smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik -  just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught  the plate  for a  second time when  a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your  little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming  suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows  the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop  in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude  comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled  in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled  together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck  her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

*******************************************************************************

Turns out -  easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by  a man a few years older than him who looked as if  death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it  be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile  strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to  moving  over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted  to go over and demand to know what he could  possibly say   having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’,  and ‘Damian’. She walked  up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

*******************************************************************************************

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it  off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

*******************************************************************************************

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who  had recently left a warehouse that  belonged to  the Penguin. Red Hood stationed  across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable  fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks  your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s  my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried  to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed  kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had  versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the  Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found  an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A  familiar itch on the back of his neck told  him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance.  A dented trash lid resting nearby.  The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped  a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and  sidestepped  the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a  spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have  one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell  from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered  his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning  sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for  it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished  with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared   where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled  over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight  and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are  a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette withdrew following  the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The  Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled  her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook  his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember  Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid  over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming  in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached  to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood  and looked  around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came  from, Marinette stopped  short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw  her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk  to  a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone  young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely  glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait  for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased  once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped  up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest  after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

*******************************************************************************************

That night, Marinette seriously considered  donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had  lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for  a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense  - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help  watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over  years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she’d glared  at in passing for weeks.

Marinette  took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked  the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it  - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive  here?! What names did the barista say  at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush  ahead after the warning Plagg gave  - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The  man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette  whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he  let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said,  nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in  another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when  I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging  a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned  to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing  to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet  and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve  the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might  still be  time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed  to snuggle  the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound  as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and  I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from  the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

*******************************************************************************************

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what  happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger  knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked  in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered  at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all  wary of her but eventually  eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

*******************************************************************************************

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located  on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on  every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting  a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled  on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on  the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held  her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French  how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned  what  transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of  the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once  entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some  all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized  everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he  slumped down,  head in his hands,  absorbing  the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find  her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable  ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing  his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii  of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled  her  expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re  a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed  before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed  from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned  to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely  inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is  gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see  you do. You’ve  endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He  needed more practice at  learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build  a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run  the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve  his Father and siblings  - they’d know how to execute a plan  - but he felt it had to come  at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts  in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

*******************************************************************************************

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell  in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which  opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team -  especially Robin, who became  her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people  from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the  Ladybug miraculous  traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it  remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag  a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others  commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance  took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news,  the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was  in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got  along even better than  their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting  smile, she quickly gained the  nickname  ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently  on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which  can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

*******************************************************************************************

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

The "Better Half" ; A Poly KiriBaku x Reader Fanfic

Enjoy the series | one two three four five

You walked into the room, flustered from Kirishima, and excited to check out your name that was all over social media. You even had your own Facebook Fan Club Group. Quickly, your mom gave you juice and sat you down, wanting to talk about everything. 

She sat by your side on the 2-person-couch, scrolling through fan art, fan group stuff, video footage, and such. I was already on famous birthdays, and had fan accounts on twitter.

You had gained thousands of people who had found and leaked your social media accounts, and had gotten hundreds of dms from classmates, teammates, and family friends. Everyone wanted a piece of the action.

“My baby!! With popularity like this, UA is bound to hear about you!! Gosh, my baby is going to go off and become the World’s Greatest Superhero!! The next All Might!” Inko excitedly fangirled over you, something rare in fact.

Over the years, with all your academic and physical accomplishments, the three of you had gotten so used to Inko ignoring you to give praise to Izuku, since he got none from others while you were practically worshipped for everything you did.

Yet now, as Izuku stared at you two from the kitchen, he saw how happy Inko truly was about you. How her eyes lit up, and her smile was bright. She was practically glowing. As a mother, this was how you were supposed to act.

But with Izuku, this never happened, no matter the act his mom put on. The highest grade he got was A-‘s, and never got all-A-honor-roll like you. 

He never had won a science fair like you, entered a states-level championship like you, gotten 1st place at a swim meet, or been voted Class President every year in middle school.

Izuku realized now how much his mother truly wanted to celebrate everyone of your milestones. How she wanted to be that mom with the perfect child, and shout it to the world. The only reason she didn’t was because of Izuku’s feelings.

Because Izuku didn’t do anything remotely close to you. Izuku was the reason his mother couldn’t be happy with her perfect daughter. It was because Izuku was so useless that neither of you had ever become close to one another.

When Inko was finally done, she sent you up the stairs to bed, saying to get rest for your big day of training tomorrow. “Hey mom, is-“ Izuku poked his head out to talk, only to get interrupted by Inko.

“One second sweetie. Yuno’s mom Michi is calling me. She’s one of the cool moms!” Inko smiled, quickly bringing the phone to her ear and racing out of the room. Izuku sighed sadly before turning and going upstairs to you. He walked into your room and leaned against the doorway.

“Soooo… What did you do while you were out?” Izuku asked, grinning as you continued to text on your phone. You brought it away from your face, fake-thought, and shook your head. 

“Just rode around for awhile. Why?” You asked, looking up at your brother. Izuku was taken back, surprised by your secrecy. Since birth, you two had told each other almost everything, but now… “Come on, I know something happened.”

Izuku began to walk over and sit on your bed when you looked up at him angrily. “Izuku, nothing happened! Stop being such a creep!” You harshly yelled, very annoyed by him prying. You did not want to talk to Izuku about boys, especially now.

Izuku stopped, shocked and hurt by your angry words. “I… okay then. Hey, I was thinking that maybe after school we could-“ He was interrupted by you looking up from your phone again, very agitated.

“I’m sorry, my schedule is packed tomorrow. I have training with my new coach and then I’m hanging out with a friend. Can it wait?” You asked as he felt his heart shatter, the wind being knocked out of him.

“Y-Yep.” Izuku whispered as he began to walk out. “Wait, Izuku!” You yelled, jumping up and running to him in the doorway. Izuku turned, happy to get your attention. Now would be when you would either apologize or want to reschedule plans for another time.

“Did you get my homework from Math and Science?” You asked, fidgeting with a pen while you stood there. “No, I’m sorry. I was just so shaken. up and I-“ You nudged Izuku angrily.

“Baka!! You were shook up? Gosh Izuku, I ruin my favorite relationship for you and you can’t even help me out?” You slammed the door in front of him and locked it. Izuku could hear you return to your bed, plop down, and eat another Pocky stick.

Snap! Crunch.

Izuku stood there, unable to believe what had just happened. Did you just… No. You were just having a mood swing again. It was no big deal… right?

Izuku stood there, listening to you talk to your friends on the phone. You giggled, laughed, and gossiped like normal. It was as if your twin brother hadn’t even gone to the hospital that day.

Izuku began to walk downstairs, only to hear his mother on the phone as well. Nobody cared, and nobody wanted to talk to him. Izuku began to waddle back to his bedroom and open his phone.

0 new messages. 0 new notifications. Just like usual, of course. Izuku began scrolling through the News, looking at all the articles about his sister, when a different article came up.

Teen suicide rate rises to all time high of 19%

Immediately, Izuku began sobbing as he brought a pillow to his face. Izuku had always had tendencies to not want to live, but had also always been scared of death. He had nothing to protect himself with after all.

He wanted to die, but the very thought of it scared him. About to fall asleep, Izuku heard a ping on his phone. How unusual… Izuku brought it to his face, happy to see it was a text from you. ‘Need 2 talk’.

Seconds later, you walked in silently and laid on the rug at his feet. “The first time… when I was attacked, ya know? I ran into the city and got lost. I was terrified. So, since I like high places, I climbed a rusty iron ladder up over 20 stories to the roof.” 

You explained, closing your eyes and reimagining the breathtaking view. 

“It was the red brick office building, the one with the faded Insurance logo on the front, and the rusty ladder on the right side. Gosh, you should have been there Izu. The wind was in my hair, and I was taller than the birds. I felt so connected to it…”

You trailed off, once again getting lost in your thoughts of the view.

 “An-An-Anyways, back to what I was saying!! After I got attacked, I ran all over. And then I met All Might! H-He talked to me about becoming a hero, and then tonight, he offered to train me!!” You smiled at Izuku as he gave you his best fake-grin.

“I’m going to start training with him everyday until the UA entrance exam, and then I’ll get in!!” You jumped up excitedly as Izuku finally let his smile break apart. “But… what about Mom and I?” He asked you as your grin softened.

“Well, I know I’ll miss you, but I need to learn about going on my own. We’re going to be adults very soon, and I need to separate now. Plus, it’ll only be four years, and I’ll be living at home. We won’t be strangers.” You explained, but he wasn’t convinced.

“So… you really want to go to UA?” He asked, staring you right in the eye, hoping you’d deny. Izuku hoped more than anything that you would say no, and that you wouldn’t leave him. You wouldn’t abandon him, all alone while you pursue your dreams.

“Yes Izuku, I really do. I really think it’ll be good for me. I know you don’t think it’s good but I do.” You began to protest as Izuku stood up. “It might be good for you but what about us? What about you and me?!” Izuku cried out as you turned to him.

“To hell with that! I have dreams Izuku! My dream is to go to UA and become a hero! I was always going to do that with my life!” You fought back, growing defensive. “That was my dream too!” Izuku yelled as you suddenly realized what this was about.

“It’s not my fault you’re quirkless Izu.” You murmured as Izuku began crying. “It’s not my fault either! I don’t want this Ichiko! You can’t leave! You’re all I have!” Izuku began sobbing as you became cold. “Then find something else Izuku. We’re not children anymore.”

You stormed out, slamming your bedroom door behind you. Izuku stood there, frozen with emotion. How had a simple talk gone so bad? He just needed you to know how he felt. You just wanted to talk to him about the future.

Most importantly, you twol had argued. You two never argued. It just wasn’t like you to fight, especially in such a screaming sensation like that. 

Izuku’s mind kept replaying the last sentence you had told him before storming out. ‘Then find something else Izuku.’ That had obviously been you telling him to stop being so attached to you.

You had said something about not being children anymore, and now that Izuku thought about it, it all made sense. The way you and Bakugo had become romantic, the way the childhood bullying had intensified, and the way you were slowly drifting away from him.

You were growing up, while Izuku was staying in his childhood. He was still pretending like he could become a hero with his stupid future notebook, and trying to exchange secrets like kids while you went on dates with boys and were training with All Might.

Deku just felt abandoned, sad, and lonely. The people he had put his love in had left him sad and heartbroken. He shut his door and covered himself in blankets, trying to fall asleep when he got visions.

“It was the red brick office building, the one with the faded Insurance logo on the front, and the rusty ladder on the right side.” Izuku got up, frazzled and horrified. Why… Why did he remember those words specifically?

Down the road from the town square, just look for it. Oh god, Izuku had to get out and get some air. He needed to get these horrible thoughts out of his head. He quickly got up, put on his sandals, and ran out. 

“I need to get some air Mom!” He yelled at her, but as he looked back to the living room, he saw her sitting at the table, talking away on the phone. Nobody will even notice… Nobody will ever care if I’m gone.

The night passed when you woke up to your alarm clock, like every other day. This day was different, in fact, today was exciting. Over 1000 notifications shown on your phone, you had your first training session with All Might, and tonight, you would get to see Kirishima. You were ecstatic to say the least.

You put on a new uniform that wasn’t coated in slime, brushed your curls, and did your light makeup of mascara, blush, and tinted chapstick. You quickly ran downstairs, bag in hand, to see your tired brother sitting on the couch. 

You grabbed him and yourself a protein bar and ran out, waving to your mom. On the walk there, Izuku seemed tired and sluggish, as if he hadn’t slept well. You choose not to ask, not wanting him to grow anymore agitated after your fight the night before. 

So you didn’t talk, simply walking the short 3 minute stroll to the gates of your junior high. As soon as you walked through the gates, you were bombarded with your friends, and other classmates crowding around you. In the mix of it, Izuku disappeared from your side.

The topics varied, from your best friends wanting to talk about Bakugou and your safety from the attack, to your admirers wanting to talk about how you defeated a villain, and then of course how it was to meet All Might. Behind a corner, you could see Bakugo glaring at you, watching.

You almost lost your voice throughout the day, talking up a storm with everyone who wanted to talk to you. You were a hero, popular in the media, and someone who radiated girl-power after yelling at Bakugou, the most feared student in the school.

Off in the corner of your eye, you saw Bakugo in the lunch line, ignoring his “friends” and staring off at you once again. Did he feel sorry? Did he miss you? Had he heard about everything? This had been the longest you had gone far without talking.

Lunch time was the first time you got some peace to yourself. You sat at the table with 10 of your good friends, finally able to talk about something good. Bakugo would have been there, but like usual, he was serving detention in the office. 

You began eating your bento when Izuku came around the corner from a hallway. “Hey Ichiko, I’m not feeling well. I think I'm going to go home for the day.” You gave him a confused look as he smiled, as if trying to hide something.

“I’m just so tired, and shook up.” You nodded, understanding as Izuku went to leave, but turned back to you. “Just know that whatever happens isn’t your fault. I love you Ichi.” He waved and left, not giving you time to speak. Weird...

Your friends quickly joined you, and you were finally able to go back to normal conversation about teachers, boys, and of course your friend’s drama with their boyfriends or girlfriends. Life was simple, but unfortunately, lunch ended as soon as it started.

You began walking in the hall with one of your friends, going to class, when she began talking about boys. “Kano and I tried but we just didn’t work out. And then Hikaru, the one I told you about with the longer hair, told me that he has a boyfriend which just makes no sense. Like, he’s gay??”

You laughed at your friend's story as you began walking to class. “What about you? Now that Bakugo is out of the picture, who do you have your eye on?” She asked as you giggled, instantly being reminded of Kiri.

“Well, there’s this-“ Before you could say his name, Bakugo slammed the door from the detention room in front of you. “I fucking knew it! Who is it?! Who the fuck has black hair and it still just soooo attractive?!” He screamed, earning everyone’s attention.

“You like him enough to kiss him on the cheek! Huh?! Who the fuck is it?! I swear I’ll rip them to pieces!” Bakugo screamed as you looked at him, unable to comprehend how he knew about Kiri.

“How do you- You’re such a stalker! Were you following me last night?” You asked as Bakugo’s eyes widened. “Tell me who it is!” He screamed as you shook your head. “No! Stay away from me you creep!” You felt your friend put her arm around you and walk you away from him.

Bakugo sighed angrily, watching you walk away without him. With all the eyes in the hallway on him, he stormed off to his next class. You couldn’t help but feel confused. Was he jealous? Was he hurt? Why did you care so much? You missed him…

You walked through the rest of your classes, all eyes on you after being called out for having a mysterious guy friend. It felt strange and weird, yet at the same time you couldn’t wait to see Kiri tonight.

When you walked into your final class, a sense of emotion walked over you. The last day of junior high before high school… it felt so surreal and fake at the same time. You were excited for the future, but scared.

You gave flowers to your favorite teachers, hugged all your friends and classmates, and took many photos. You were just so excited and sad, it was very bittersweet to leave a place you had gone every day for 3 years.

The worst part was the memories. Here, you have become your own person. You had found your own style, your own clique of friends, and your identity. Here, you had realized that you would become a hero.

Yet again, everyday here had been spent with Katsuki by your side. Six school dances, three school festivals, 4 class field trips, and many times when you would hang out behind the school together.

Finally, the day was over, and you were able to walk out into your first second of Summer. Of course, all the thoughts of relaxation were interrupted by a friendly blonde man by the entrance. 

You were walking out with your friends when one of them looked at something behind you. “Ichi… Do you know that man?” He asked as you turned to see All Might in his weak form, smiling and waving ecstatically. 

You smiled, relieved, and nodded. “Yep, that’s my… uncle. Anyways, I’ll call you guys later. We have training to do.” You explained as a girl to your left smiled. “Ahh yes, you are a hero in the making according to Channel 5 News after all.”

You waved to your group before running over to All Might who leaned against the school gate. “Young Ichiko, you’re looking well after last night.” He grinned warmly as you nodded. “Yea, I’ve had a pretty… eventful day.” You smiled back as you began walking.

He explained to you how he would train you to the max in hopes of making you as powerful as possible for the entrance exam, and would even train you past that until you succeeded him. He also told you about how he was going to be a UA teacher, and would keep a close eye on you always.

You two walked to the quiet beach, and began. He made you move rocks with him standing on it, threw things at you with speed and made you stop them, and of course made you go underwater and control the oxygen to keep you from getting wet.

It was hard, eventful, and left you dramatically breathing, almost gasping for air. And yet, after, you weren’t done. He made you throw rocks into the air and sent them as far as possible. He made you manipulate the ground, and use it to make you faster. 

You also began running miles on the road, All Might flying above you to shout empty commands and uplifting remarks. It was all hard, and you were so tired, but you would do anything to become a hero like him.

Finally, when it was over three hours after school, you fell to your knees, feeling your heartbeat in your eyes and like you were about to throw up. “Well, I guess we can stop here. That was a very good first day, I'm excited to see how you improve tomorrow.”

He grinned, sitting on a rock nearby. All Might stood and helped you back to your feet. “You look just pitiful. Come now, let me buy you some food.” All Might held onto your arm to keep you up as you both began to walk to a nearby café in town.

He bought you a sandwich and a smoothie, tipping the cashier a 20$ bill. Being the 1# hero in the world had its perks financially of course, and All Might was rolling in the dough.

You two walked to a park bench, and sat down happily. You had a lot of fun with All Might, and he enjoyed his time with you. He likes hearing about your life, and your crazy stories. He liked it when you talked about your friends, and your brother.

You were just talking about the one time your friend and you jumped off waterfalls in Hawaii and then had to run from a water snake when you got a text message from Izuku. Your face froze, and your heart rate accelerated.

“Young Ichiko, are you alright?” All Might asked, noticing your happy demeanor turn dark. You stared at your phone as you began shaking. “Oh god, Ichiko?! Are you hurt?” All Might asked as he turned to look at your phone screen. “Oh dear.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“Tell mom I love her.”

“Goodbye.”

Instantly, you quickly went to your tracking app that you had with Izuku and your mom, and looked at Izuku’s location. “He’s… just down the street from the town square. In the Kyoko Insurance Firm?” All Might asked, confused and worried like you. “No… he’s on the building I told him about.”

You jumped up and turned to All Might. “Can you fly?” You asked him as she shook his head. “I used up all my time for the day.” He explained as you began running into town. 

“I just have to run.” You sighed and began running into town, ignoring the burning in your legs and keeping your eyes on your phone. Through the town square, deep into two alleyways, and then down the street. You could already see a small group forming at the base of the building, looking up.

You threw yourself onto the ladder and climbed as fast as possible to the top. It only took a minute before you were staring at your brother who stood on the edge. “You shouldn’t have come here Ichi. I already said goodbye.”

You began to step forward as he turned around to face you. “Izuku, don’t do this. I promise you, you don’t want to kill yourself.” You pleaded as he stared bullets. “My life is useless Ichiko. I’m not athletic. I’m not smart. I’m not powerful.”

You began crying, shaking your head as you heard All Might come up behind you. “Izuku, if you jump off this building I’ll jump too.” You threatened as he shook his head and laughed. “No you won’t. You’re not stupid. Your life is meaningful. You have a bright future Ichiko.” 

The tears kept coming as you shook your head, pleading with him. “Izuku, how can I live the life we dreamed of without you?” You asked as he smiled warmly. “Live life to the fullest, and have no regrets. Live it for the both of us.” Before you could speak, Izuku leaned back off the building.

Like time was slowing down, you ran as fast as you could towards the edge of the building and reached for his hand. The look in his face showed peace as he closed his eyes. You let your arm reach for his, but we’re unable to reach.

As All Might watched this, he felt a rush in his blood as he grew to his hero-form and ran to you. Flying off the building, he was able to use his last ounce of energy to reach his hand around your waist and keep both him and you in the air.

Unfortunately for them both, it gave you a front row seat as you watched her twin brother fall to his death. You cupped your hands around your mouth, your eyes glued to his limp body that laid on the sidewalk.

Screams of horror and worry could be heard below as everyone ran to Izuku. Slowly, All Might lowered you to the sidewalk in the middle of the group. Instantly, you all were recognized. You dropped to your knees, unable to speak or move.

You lightly poked his arm, begging for a response. “I-Izu?” You gasped as blood began to fill uniform shirt. “No! Someone call an ambulance! Somebody, please!” You screamed as loud as you could, fighting against All Might who began to hold you back.

“Young Ichiko, there’s no use.” He whispered as you shook your head, trying your best to fight your way out of his grip. “No! No! He’s not dead! I need to help him, let me go!”

All Might finally twisted you around to face him and spoke to you. “He’s dead Ichiko! He’s dead, and I’m so sorry.” You began crying as you hugged him tightly. “Come now, let’s get you home. You shouldn’t have to see this.” 

All Might began flying you home in his hero form, finally reaching your driveway. You could see that by then, your mother had run out, even leaving the door open on her way to the car.

With the sun setting in the background, All Might sat you on the front porch with him, and let you two sit in silence. Just as All Might was about to say something, dozens of cars pulled up to the street in front, allowing camera men and reporters to spill out.

Obviously, you should have known that the 1# hero and a media sensation in the same place would bring attention. 

“Miss Midoryia, is it true that you witnessed your brother’s suicide?” One asked, not passing the curb to the house but filming you two. “All Might, how do you feel about not being able to save her brother?” Another man asked, trying to get his microphone as close to them as possible.

“I’ll get them out, do not-“ All Might was interrupted by someone rushing through the crowd. “Ichiko?! Ichiko?! Oh my god!” Kirishima pushed through the crowd and ran to you in a hurry. “Are you okay? Why are all these people here? Oh… All Might?”

When he and All Might made eye contact, All Might smiled warmly at you. “I can tell you’re in good hands. I’m going to get these reporters away from here. See you later Young Ichiko.” 

He patted your head and smiled sadly before flying off. Sure enough, more than half the cars followed along. “Shh…Shh.” Kirishima wipes the tears from under your eyes lovingly.

He brought a blanket from your living room and held your hand. “I’m supposing you saw.” You whispered weakly, your voice shaking harshly as Kirishima nodded slowly. “Y-Yea. Oh Ichiko, I’m so sorry.” He wrapped his arms around you as you cuddled on the outdoor porch swing.

“You want to go inside?” Kirishima asked as you shook your head. “I can’t. It reminds me of him too much.” You explained as he sadly held you in his arms. You watched the sun set over the hills, and cuddled deeper into Kirishima.

It was until it grew dark, and you got a call from Mitsuki. Kirishima picked it up and held it to your ear. “Hey Baby. Your mom and I are going to be out for a while, but your mom ordered something pizza for the house for you to eat while we’re gone.”

Mitsuki explained as you nodded. “Okay. W-Wait, can you ask Mom if I can have a friend spend the night?” You asked as Kirishima’s eyes lit up. “She’s not here right now, but I’ll give you permission. It’s not safe for you to be alone right now sweetie.”

And with that, Mitsuki hung up. “D-Do you want to go inside?” Kirishima asked nervously with a blush, noticing you shivering. You nodded, and without even trying, Kirishima picked you up bridal style and brought you inside. 

He sat you on the bar stool, and got you a glass of water from the kitchen. You smiled in a comfortable silence as small tears kept streaming down your face. “D-Do you want a tour?” You tried to smile as Kirishima leaned against the counter. “Of course.”

You got up and grabbed onto his arm as you walked around. “This is the kitchen, and living room. That small room over there is the plant room where all the sunlight is.” You showed him the smaller room with a music speaker and lots of windows.

Upstairs, you began to walk down the hallway. “Here’s my mom’s room, here’s the bathroom, here’s…” You turned to look into the All Might filled, grey room with a welcome sign on the front of the door.

Just thinking of it, you remembered just that morning when you had gone to talk to him. You had told him about your plans for UA, and he had gotten upset. He had been fearful about you two leaving each other. Did that have anything to do with him killing himself?

Seeing you were about to cry, Kirishima put his arm around your waist and pulled you close. You snapped out of it and began walking again. “This is the bathroom. You can shower whenever.” You both blushed as you got to your bedroom.

“Here’s my room.” You began to walk in, causing him to follow you. Your room was a large light painted room with a queen bed next to your huge window with a desk, a full-body mirror, and led lights. You had a big closet, and you had a lot of plants all around.

“Super cute.” Kirishima looked around your room before peering out the window. “There’s… a big tree right there.” He commented as you turned and smiled at him. “Good t know.” He played it off like it was nothing but you knew what he was talking about.

You sat on the bed together, resting your head on his shoulder. “It hurts…” You whispered, feeling the tears building up again. Everything you looked at seemed to remind you of him again and again.

“I know. And it will for a while, but it’s going to be okay. Things have a way of having a good ending, even if it’s bittersweet.” Kirishima tried his best to make you feel better, and in some way, it worked.

You grabbed a blanket and threw it over you two before laying back onto the bed. Kirishima slowly followed, embarrassed yet wanting to lay down with you. You cuddled against him with his back to the window, facing him and cuddling against him. 

You two decided to turn on the tv in your room and give the airless tension with background noise. He wiped your tears, told you funny stories, and made you feel better. He was good at comforting you when you felt at your worst moment.

From the street, Katsuki stared up at the window as he sat on the street curb. He had tried to come by early when the driveway had been filled with reporters, but yet again, the black-haired douche was right there with you.

Now, he had tried to come check on you, cake in hand, when he saw you cuddling with Mr.-I-have-long-black-shiny-hair. Not only that, but in bed. At night. WITHOUT INKO THERE. Katsuki refused to be replaced for his girl by some extra.

Comment if you liked it!!

@drbumpkin @bleachbetch @toobsessedsstuff @turtle-deku @1madxson1 @badb1hh @lilacskyura @thesuitelifeofafangirl

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Raindrops, snowflakes, sunshine, part 3

Summary: Catelyn meets a northern boy in her algebra class during one of London’s many rainy days. Initially she doesn’t expect much, but this boy brings her a surprising amount of sunlight.

@leialannister and I discussed Scandinavian Starks and I realized I really wanted to write a fic so that’s what I did. Swedes depicted in media makes this Swede happy, and NedCat also makes me happy so why not combine it and publish him for everyone to see?

Ashara poked her head into the bathroom and squinted against the bright light. Catelyn got eye contact with her through the mirror and raised her eyebrows. Ashara had looked better. She was a beautiful woman, but at the moment she looked like seven hard years.

“Where are you going?”

“Did I say I’m going somewhere?” Catelyn asked.

She was going somewhere, but she hadn’t said a thing about it to Ashara and Cersei. She had planned to tell them about it, she really had, but then she had just never found an opportunity to do it. She had thought that she would be able to get out without them taking too much notice about it. That she thought because the two of them had a hangover from hell.

“You didn’t drink last night and you’re wearing makeup, you’re going somewhere.”

Catelyn turned around to look at her directly instead of through the mirror.

“I’m going out for coffee with Ned” she said.

Ashara smiled tiredly.

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m happy for you but I also hate you.”

Catelyn turned back to the mirror to examine her look a final time.

“What have I done to deserve that?”

Ashara leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Cersei and I are stuck here, hangover as fuck, but you’re all pretty and have a date with a cute guy.”

Ned had accepted her following request and Ashara and Cersei had deemed him cute based on the pictures he had. Not amazingly good looking, but definitely cute.

Together the two of them had also reached the conclusion that there was no trace of a partner on his social media. He only had pictures with more than two people in them, which made it hard to determine, but after careful consideration they had said that he didn’t seem to have a girlfriend. Which of course didn’t matter to Catelyn, but they had found it very interesting.

“Thanks, but it’s not a date.”

It definitely wasn’t a date, but she was looking good. Her skin was glowing, her hair cooperated. It was a perfect day.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m meeting a person for coffee, that’s what it is.”

Ashara rolled her eyes.

“That really just sounds like a coffee date, KitKat.”

She didn’t know when Cersei’s ridiculous nickname for her had stuck, but it annoyed her that it had. She had long since given up on trying to fight it. KitKat. Sometimes that was just who she was. A chocolate covered wafer bar.

“If you insist on it, fine, it’s a friend date.”

She walked past Ashara and out of the bathroom. The flat was gloomy and the air was heavy with the smell of what Catelyn guessed was lavender, but she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter what scented candle it was that Ashara had lit, the only thing that mattered was that Catelyn had an intense dislike of it. She was glad for that she had a good reason to get out of there.

“Is he aware of that it’s a friend date?” Ashara questioned as she followed Catelyn to the hallway.

He had to be. She couldn’t imagine him wanting to date her because why would he want that? She hadn’t exactly made a good first impression. Or second impression. She had been given multiple chances and had managed to fuck it up every time.

“Yes. I don’t think he would want to date me anyway.”

“Why?”

Catelyn tried to keep her mind off the social missteps she had made during her conversations with Ned. If she started thinking about that she would die. Well, she wouldn’t die, but she would have some trouble getting herself to their… friend date. And if she actually managed to get there she would have a very hard time looking at him.

“There’s no need to talk about that.”

A sly grin appeared on Ashara’s face.

“No need to talk about it, huh? Why’s that?”

“I’m an idiot, that’s all there is to say.”

“That isn’t like you.”

“My brain abandoned me somewhere in the middle, I don’t know.”

Catelyn really didn’t want to be that person, but she was smart. She was book smart and also did well in social situations. She was simply overall smart. Therefore she would have liked to know what it was about Ned that made her act like she had never spoken to a person before. What about him was so terribly special that she couldn’t use her brain? He wasn’t special, the only thing that made him stand out from the other people in her life was that he was Swedish. And there were literally millions of other Swedes.

“Good luck with your friend date” Ashara said when Catelyn opened the door to leave.

“Have fun here” Catelyn responded.

She was once more very happy for that she was going out instead of staying inside feeling like a corpse all day.

“We’re gonna order pizza, it’ll be great.”

Catelyn didn’t believe Cersei was awake and based on Ashara’s yawn she she guessed she would go back to bed for a little longer as well.

“Save me a slice.”

“Can’t promise anything.”

“Come on.”

“That’s what you get for ditching us for a guy.”

“Is it somehow my fault that you’re hangover?”

“Cat, honey, shut up and let me be a little bit jealous over your date.”

Why was she jealous? She had a girlfriend. And it still wasn’t a date, Ashara knew that. Catelyn would get no boyfriend out of meeting Ned for coffee.

“You have a girlfriend, go on a date with her.”

“I can’t date anyone in this condition.”

“I want dinner no matter your condition.”

Ashara almost pushed her out the door.

“Don’t keep the Swede waiting.”

“Hey, I need–“

The door shut before she had finished her sentence. She supposed it was for dramatic effect, but it wouldn’t really work as Ashara had pushed her out before she could take her bag and phone. So she opened the door and went back inside.

“Did you not get my hint?” Ashara chuckled. “I was telling you to leave.”

Catelyn snatched her bag up from where it stood on the floor just next to the door.

“I appreciate your attempt at recreating a scene from a shitty movie, but I needed my bag.”

“I knew something would ruin it.”

“Want to try again?”

Ashara looked like she actually considered it for a moment, but then she scrunched up her face.

“Nah, it wouldn’t be the same” she said.

“Sorry for ruining it.”

“I hate you now.”

Catelyn descended the stairs, cursing the fact that the lift was still broken. She didn’t even know how long it had been since it broke. Weeks, maybe months. And when it actually worked it worked for five days at a time anyway. Catelyn was a world champion when it came to running in stairs. She was nowhere near patient enough to simply walk down those stairs, that took way too long.

When she had stepped out on the street she heard her phone’s text signal and smoothly fished it out of her bag. It was a message from Ned. She had got his number after they started following each other on Instagram so that they could have more direct contact.

Is it fine if Oden comes?

Her lips curled into a smile, he wanted to bring his dog. That felt like an honor. She didn’t know if it was, but it certainly felt that way. And she was fine with his dog. It was a large dog, she wasn’t a fan of large dogs. But Oden seemed very polite.

Yeah, it’s no problem

Okay, see you soon

See you soon

She put her phone away again and happily walked towards the subway. She had hoped it would be sunny, it was not. Maybe it would have been if she hadn’t thought of it. The weather seemed to work that way. But it wasn’t raining, and according to her weather app it wouldn’t. It was just cloudy. Which was fine. Cloudy was fine. But it made her a little sad because her hair was at its best with some sunlight at it, if she could say so herself.

She arrived there before Ned. The bookshop was closed Sundays so she couldn’t browse for books while waiting. So she looked at her phone for a bit, tried not to stare at people walking past her. She didn’t know where he lived, so she had no idea about from which way he would come.

But before she knew it he was standing in front of her with Oden next to him.

“Hey” he said.

She smiled.

“Hi.”

“I hope Oden isn’t a problem.”

She crouched down slightly and scratched Oden between his ears.

“Not at all. We’re best friends, right, Oden?”

Not that a dog could answer her, but it seemed like he liked her. He wagged his tail. She didn’t speak dog, but she believed that meant he was happy. Or at least he didn’t hate her.

“He trusts you” Ned said.

She had been joking, but she saw no sign of that he was.

“I’m sorry, I’m bad with dogs, how can you tell that?”

“Oh that’s not about dogs overall, it’s just Oden. He usually doesn’t let people touch his head. His brothers and sisters were a bit mean to him, and they would chew on his ears so he’s sensitive in that area.”

Catelyn previously hadn’t believed that she would ever reach the point in her life where a dog trusted her. She didn’t like dogs, and dogs didn’t like her. It had been that way for as long as she could remember. And still she stood there with a dog who according to his owner trusted her.

“I really do not deserve that” she said dismissively. “At all.”

Ned looked at her for a moment before answering. She looked back into his eyes. Grey. They were grey. And she was certain of that she wouldn’t forget it that time around. Even more so she hoped they wouldn’t go so long without seeing each other that she had time to forget again. But she wouldn’t let that happen.

“I think you do.”

Maybe she was blushing. She had no idea. All she knew was that he was very sweet and that she liked that about him.

“Thank you.”

She had probably held eye contact with him for longer than appropriate but he didn’t seem to mind. When she snapped out of it and averted her eyes, turning her gaze to the street instead.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

Ned sighed.

“I’m going to confess something” he then said. “I don’t know a lot about coffee, where I come from we drink it plain and black. So you pick wherever you like.”

Interesting that he had asked her out for coffee then. Maybe that was simply the first thing that had come to his mind when he asked her.

“Okay. Well, this isn’t my part of the city, I’m rarely here, but if we walk around the area I’m sure we’ll find something good.”

She was only there when she was at the bookshop. She had no other reason to be there, she only knew they had a good bookshop there.

“Sounds good.”

They started walking down the street with Oden ahead of them.

“Don’t you have coffee shops in Sweden?” Catelyn said.

It seemed so much like an exaggerated stereotype that she couldn’t really believe it. Sweden wasn’t all winter and woods, was it? They had cities and in cities there were coffee shops. Or so she believed. Maybe Sweden was a stranger country than she had initially thought.

“We have in the cities, but my family is from the country side so I didn’t have easy access to them. I learned to drink my coffee black. In the wrong company you could get shamed for drinking it with a little bit of milk.”

“Really?”

“Proper people drink their coffee black” Ned said in a heavy Swedish accent.

Catelyn couldn’t keep herself from laughing and he smiled.

“I drink my coffee black too sometimes” she said. “But that’s mostly when I’m too tired to put anything in it because I’m studying.”

“Everyday I thank myself for quitting math.”

“I get you, sometimes it’s all pain, but I like it.”

“I’m a bit jealous, I wish I was good at it.”

She was somewhat flattered by that. So he wanted something that she had too, she wasn’t the only one who was a bit jealous of the others talents? Maybe she was a bad person for feeling that. She didn’t really care.

“Do you?”

“I have always admired academic people, but I’m definitely not one of them. My brain’s not wired that way.”

“That’s funny, because I thought the same thing about you when you said that you draw” she confessed. “I wish I was good at that.”

Ned didn’t answer, so she looked at him to see if something had happened. He didn’t look back at her, seemingly deep in thought. Which confused her. Had what she said really been that thought inducing? She didn’t believe so. They stopped at a red light, waiting for the light to turn green so that they could cross the street. The moment she wasn’t walking she realized her hands were getting quite cold. She should have brought gloves, she realized as she stuck them in her pockets.

“I could teach you, if you’d like” he offered.

By then she had almost forgotten that she was talking to someone.

“What?”

“I could teach you, if you’d like” he repeated. “I’m not amazing, and I don’t know how good I am at teaching, but I can try.”

Catelyn wasn’t a person who lost her tongue. She could always talk, even in situations where she got nervous or embarrassed. She always had her words. That wasn’t always something she considered positive, but it was true. Though she believed that what she felt then was the closest thing to speechlessness she would ever come.

They had only met a few times, that was the first time they had actually agreed to meet up. They didn’t know each other too well, they were only acquainted with each other. And still Ned offered to teach her. Still he offered to help her learn something she had wanted to learn for many years.

“Would you do that?” she asked, feeling herself smile.

“If you want to, sure” he responded, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

“I have nothing to give you in return, but thank you. I would love to do that.”

“You don’t need to give me anything in return, it’s just a fun thing.”

It could definitely be a fun thing.

The light turned green and together with the other people who had gathered at the crossing they hurried across the street with Oden leading the way.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“What? No, I’m not cold at all” she lied.

There was no need to fuss about that. She was just too stupid to dress for the weather. Maybe she should have learned to after having been alive for quite some time, but she never seemed to do so. Her father would have shook his head if he could have seen her, he had always stooped her in the door and given her a hat and a pair of gloves.

“Are you sure? Because it really seems like it.”

She should have taken a scarf and a pair of gloves, she could definitely admit to that, but it was a little too late to think of it then.

“What makes you think I’m cold?”

“The fact that your shoulders are up at your ears and your hands are very deep down in your pockets.”

“Okay, I’m a little cold, but it’s nothing.”

If she hadn’t known herself as well as she did she would have looked in her bag to see if she by any chance had a pair of gloves in it. But she did know herself, and was therefore aware of that she would never put gloves in her bag. Looking was therefore unnecessary.

To her great horror he first handed her Oden’s leash, and then took of his own gloves off before offering them to her.

“Ned, there’s no need for that, you really don’t have to” she protested. “You shouldn’t have to be cold because I’m bad at wearing enough clothes.”

Ned didn’t listen to that. He merely took Oden’s leash back and instead gave her the gloves. When he did so his hand touched hers and she felt how warm it was. It could just have been the contrast to her frozen hand, but it felt like he was very warm. They would have made a good match if they were dating in that sense.

“God, your hands are warm” she said.

“I know, that’s why you need the gloves a lot more than I do” he said. “Put them on.”

The need to get her hands warmed up came out victorious in the fight against the want to keep protesting. And she was actually very grateful for the gloves when she put them on and felt an instant relief. They were way too large, but they were a lot better than nothing.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you, but never leave your dog in my hands again. He’s a nice dog, I like him, but I draw the line there.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know.”

“I’m usually not this bad at planning” she then said, feeling that she had to defend some of what little dignity she had left.

“Just like you’re usually not late?” he quipped, obviously amused by her words.

So he remembered that, did he? That hadn’t been a lie, she was always on time. But the latter was a truth with modifications. She was a good planner, but not when it came to dressing for the weather.

“Yes, like that. I don’t know what has gotten into me lately.”

“I hear that’s what London does to you if you stay here for too long.”

“I think it’s Britain overall, it’s been too long since I was home.”

How long had it been since she visited home? It must have been in the beginning of the summer and at the moment it was the middle of autumn.

“Where are you from?” he asked. “More specifically.”

“Galway. Where are you from?”

“I doubt you would know it, most Swedes don’t know it. It’s a small town. And we didn’t even live in that small place, we lived a bit away from it.”

He was right, she knew exactly two Swedish cities. The two largest ones. And he said he was from a small place earlier so she had known it wasn’t one of those, but it had seemed polite to ask.

“I know Stockholm and Gothenburg, which one is it closest to?”

“Good question, uhm… Gothenburg, I think. But it’s about the same distance to both of them. It’s close to the Norwegian border, not too far from Sweden’s largest lake.”

Just then she realized that she knew absolutely nothing about Swedish geography. She had no idea about the name of the largest lake or where in the country it was. And knowing it was close to the Norwegian border didn’t exactly help, Sweden did have a long border towards Norway. That she knew.

“I’m completely lost” she admitted. “You’ll have to show me on a map.”

Ned laughed.

“Absolutely, but then you’ll have to show me Galway on a map. I have no idea about where that is” he said.

“Don’t you know Galway? There’s eighty thousand people living there.”

“I have heard of Galway, I just don’t know where it is!” he said defensively.

“Okay, small town boy” she chuckled.

He pulled a face at her, making her laugh even more.

“I know I’m not the most academic person, but you’re being unfair, big city girl.”

Catelyn smiled.

“Small town isn’t negative. I like small towns. They have an atmosphere and a feeling that cities don’t have.”

She thought of her grandparents’ house in the country side. She had been there all the time when she was a child, sometimes she had thought it was better there than in the city. Wherever Ned was from was probably lovely.

“Small towns are very different from London” he said. “My siblings dreamed of leaving, but I liked it there. It was calm, not much happened. A good place to make art.”

“You said your older brother lives here, right?”

“Yes. My brother Brandon lives here. I have two younger siblings, as well. A sister, Lyanna, and a brother, Benjen. They’re back in Sweden with my parents. Do you have siblings?”

“I have a younger sister, Lysa, and a little brother, Edmure. He’s twelve, he thinks I’m a total nerd for studying math. He thinks I should get a cool degree instead, like criminology. He still calls a lot and wants to come here to visit though.”

“Despite that you’re a nerd?” Ned chuckled.

“Yeah, despite that I’m a nerd. Apparently I’m still likable and a pretty okay older sister.”

“You’re likable. Och vacker.”

The first thing she understood perfectly, but those last two words she didn’t know. That was Swedish. Why had he started speaking Swedish suddenly? And what did it mean?

“Thank you, but I’m sorry, I don’t know what that second thing means” she said.

Ned gave her a look. She didn’t know what that meant either. There were many things about him that she didn’t know or understand.

“It was nothing” he said.

“No, that wasn’t nothing. If it was nothing you would have told me what it meant” she said, nudging him in the side. “Come on, tell me!”

“No.”

“You’ve made me cur–“

“This might be a good place, don’t you think?”

Catelyn shut her mouth and looked up to see that he was right, that was a coffee shop. She wasn’t sure of exactly where they were, she didn’t recognize it so she had probably never been there before. But they had coffee and that was the only criteria she had.

“You wait here with Oden, I can go inside and order” she said. “What do you want?”

“You already know what I want.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something more fun?”

“Proper people drink their coffee black, big city girl” he reminded her.

She laughed and then took off the gloves, handing them to him.

“Thanks for letting me borrow them, I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”

She opened the door and was met by a wave of heat. It was quite crowded, seemed like everyone had decided to get coffee at the same time. She placed herself at the end of the long line and then took her phone out of her bag, immediately taking up a translator. And then found that she couldn’t remember what that word was that he had said. Or those words. She was pretty sure of that there had been two words, but she couldn’t for her life remember what they were. And it annoyed her. It was annoying that he refused to tell her. Had it been something really insulting? But why would he say something insulting, she didn’t believe she had done anything to deserve that.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was one she had mixed feelings for. She had worked in a coffee shop for almost a year, and had quit just before starting to take classes that autumn as her working schedule didn’t work out with the classes, and she wasn’t allowed to change it. Coffee was a good scent, but some of her worst interactions with other people had also happened in that environment. She had to get a new job though, she was starting to run low on money.

When it came down to it she got him a latte because she couldn’t bring herself to order black coffee. It was too boring, she had to teach him to drink other kinds of coffee as well.

“What do I owe you?” he asked when she came back outside.

“Nothing, it’s on me this time. And you didn’t get black coffee” she informed him.

“I knew it. Is it a latte?”

“It is a latte.”

“I’ll accept it.”

“You sure you won’t get all soft from the steamed milk?” Catelyn said teasingly.

He took a sip from his mug.

“If I don’t survive the winter it’s your fault.”

“I’ll be sure to let your family know that.”

“Thank you, I’m sure it will bring them much comfort as they’re grieving me.”

“Most definitely.”

“Do you want the gloves?” Ned asked when they started walking again.

She didn’t know where they were going, and she supposed he didn’t either. Just walking could be nice too.

“No, I’m good. I have the warm mug now, and besides they’re your gloves, you should have them.”

“I’ll bring an extra pair next time.”

He wanted to see her more times. Things couldn’t be going bad then, could they? He liked her as well as she liked him.

“Or maybe we’ll see each other indoors” she suggested.

“That works too.”

They crossed a street once more and came out to a park. Why had she never been in that park before? It was a nice park and it was probably even better in summer. She would have to remember that. Maybe she could go there with Ned again. Or she could take Ashara and Cersei there. They went to parks all the time in the summer.

“What do you do in your spare time?” Ned asked.

“If you’re fishing for hobbies now I won’t be able to give you anything. When I don’t study I read, and spend time with my flat mates, occasionally I go to a pub or meet up with other friends. Well, I bake a lot, does that count as a hobby?”

She was actually a quite good baker, but when she thought of it she lived a very boring life. She didn’t consider it boring, she liked it as it was, but it wasn’t anything spectacular. There wasn’t much variation.

“Why wouldn’t it count as a hobby?”

“I don’t–“

Suddenly he almost fell to the side and therefore right into her. Warm coffee splashed over both of them as she stumbled over her own feet. She would have fallen over if he had not quickly dropped her mug in order to grab her arm and hold her upright.

At first she didn’t understand what had happened or why he had lost his feet, but then she realized that it was Oden that had suddenly pulled at his leash.

“För i helvete, Oden!” Ned exclaimed before turning to her. “I’m so sorry, he must have seen a squirrel or something.”

She looked at him, coffee all over his chest area, then looked down at herself. She had equally as much coffee, if not more, all over her. Had she not worn her coat it probably would have burned her.

Catelyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t intentional. And no major harm was done.”

She hoped the stains would go away in the washing machine. Otherwise she wouldn’t be that happy, but she still couldn’t be angry at anyone. Neither Ned nor Oden had done it on purpose. And it wasn’t like he didn’t also have coffee all over him.

“Jag visste att jag inte skulle ha tagit med dig” Ned muttered to Oden. “Varför kan du inte bete dig när det behövs?”

The dog stood before them, looking at them with puppy eyes. Seemingly wondering why they had just stopped the walk. When Catelyn met his eyes he tilted his head, wagging his tail.

“And that means?”

“He’s not like this usually, I have no idea about what has gotten into him” he said apologetically.

She believed he had chosen to ignore her question and that wasn’t the translation for what he had said, but she couldn’t be sure about that as she didn’t know a single Swedish word.

“It’s okay, really. Accidents happen.”

He was still holding her arm, and they were standing quite close to each other. There was still some distance between them, but it was far less than when they had been walking. She was blushing, she could feel her cheeks burn. Why did she have to blush, why was that her first reaction to everything?

He noticed just seconds after she did and let go of her arm, then he backed away a step, avoiding her eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for the coffee?” he asked, sounding deeply troubled about it all.

“I’m sure. Next time coffee’s on you, it’ll even out.”

Ned sighed.

“I really feel like I should in some way compensate you for this.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

It felt somewhat ridiculous to stand there and talk about whether or not he should pay her for the coffee while both of them were dripping with it.

She would have laughed if she hadn’t wanted to disappear into the ground, never to appear again. Both because of the ridiculousness of the situation and because it was so far from how it had played out in her head when she had thought about it beforehand. Nowhere in her imaginations had she come up with a scenario where they stood in a park together with his dog, both of them having coffee all over themselves. She should have expected it though. Of course she couldn’t see him one time without something happening.

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to see me again–” he started.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?”

His expression changed from a very anxious one to one that indicated that he believed that she had completely lost it.

“Because I poured almost all of my coffee on you?”

“I poured coffee all over you too, this goes two ways. Oh God, we look ridiculous.”

She could always take some comfort in that they were looking ridiculous together.

“I know, I can see you clearly” he responded dryly.

As if he didn’t look just as stupid as she did. 

"Take a good look then, small town boy. I've never looked better."

She had probably never looked worse. At least when it came to her clothes. It was a good outfit, but the stains didn't really go with it.

"Det är ingen dålig syn."

The whole Swedish thing was fun, she liked hearing him speak his first language, but she was also already tired of not always understanding what he was saying. Communicating in Swedish didn't really work though because she didn't know a word in that language, otherwise she wouldn't have minded at all.

"I'm sorry, Swedish is a fine language, but I don't understand and this time you'll have to translate for me."

"That feels deeply unnecessary."

There was something about the look he had after he had said it that made her even more curious. Like a child who was pretending he wasn't guilty of something he had obviously done and was having a hard time keeping the mask up. What was he saying to her? And why did he refuse to translate it?

"Well, this has been very nice, but I suppose we'll have to continue some other time, because we're both in need of a change of clothes" she said.

She crouched down and picked up the mugs they had dropped. Then she walked over to a nearby trash can and tossed them in it.

"Once again, I'm very sorry” he said.

"There's not much to do about it, so no need to feel sorry."

They began making their way back towards where they had met up, trying very hard to pretend they were not covered in coffee. They actually managed to pass by fairly unnoticed, Catelyn only saw one person give them a look as they walked past. And that wasn't strange, she had seen so much weirder things than two people who had clearly had a little accident while living in London. Maybe it even passed as some sort of fashion statement. When it had just happened it hadn't felt like it, but it could have been worse. A lot worse. She still wanted to disappear from the face of earth when she thought about it, but at the same time she knew that it was definitely a thing she could get over. It had been an accident, it wasn't something she had done or said. That was always an improvement from the times they had met in the bookshop.

"Except for the mess I had a pretty good time" she smiled when they arrived at where they would walk different ways.

"We'll have to do it again without that part" he agreed.

"Indoors" she added.

"I'll bring extra gloves in the future, just in case we need to go somewhere."

She snorted, wondering if he really was that much of an outdoor person.

"That works too."

They fell quiet after that, unsure of what to do. What was appropriate? Could she hug him? That was what seemed most reasonable to her as a handshake was way too formal but she still needed to say goodbye in some way. Hugging also felt most natural to her. Though she couldn't be sure of that he was a hugger. She had never been more thankful for her phone ringing. Maybe a few times, but she was happy to hear her ringtone in that moment. She didn't have to answer it, but it gave her a little more time to figure out what to do.

"I should probably check who it is, I'm sorry" she said apologetically.

She wished she could have just taken up her phone, but it had somehow disappeared underneath everything else she had in the bag. Old receipts, two pairs of sunglasses, a charger, her wallet, a box with a broken bracelet that she had intended to get fixed, some pads. And that was only some of it. How had her phone managed to get down under all that? And when had she put all that crap in the bag? When she finally managed to find it she saw Edmure's name and picture on the screen, and she answered the call with a small smile on her face.

"Uncle wants to know if you're coming home for Christmas" her brother's little voice informed her before she had time to answer.

"Hello to you too, Ed" she chuckled.

"Are you coming home for Christmas?"

It was more than a month and a half until Christmas, why did Uncle Brynden want to know that already? And why wasn't he calling her instead of making Edmure do it? They had regular contact, why hadn't he asked her when they talked the day before?

"I am, but why does he want to know that now?"

"He said why, but I forgot to listen, I just know he told me to ask you that."

She had to keep herself from laughing again by biting down on her tongue. It didn't get easier when she locked eyes with Ned who proceeded to wave back at her despite that they were a meter away from each other.

"Okay."

She would have to call him later and see what it was about.

"What are you doing?" Edmure continued, quickly moving past Christmas.

"I'm out with a friend."

"Is it Ashara or Cersei? Or one of your other friends?"

"His name is Ned, you haven't met him."

There was a short pause from Edmure's side.

"Can I say hello to him?" he then asked.

She could imagine him in his room back in Galway. Sitting at his desk in front of the window of the room, picking at the flaking blue paint on his chair, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He was always like that when she told him about new people.

"Do you want to say hello to my brother?" she said to Ned.

He shrugged.

"Sure, why not?"

She put Edmure on speaker and then held up the phone.

"Alright, you can say hello now, Ed."

"Hello, Ned."

Ned leaned forward slightly to answer.

"Hello, Edmure."

"Are you and my sister actually friends or are you her boyfriend?"

Ned raised his eyebrows in surprise and she felt the moment she stopped breathing, her eyes going wide.

"Pardon?"

"And that's enough!" Catelyn interrupted, quickly taking Edmure off speaker and putting the phone to her ear again. "Say hello to everyone back home and tell them I love them, bye!"

"But–"

She pressed the button to end the call. There was the reason for why not. She should have seen that one coming, she should have known. She could have spared them both the humiliation if she had just thought it through a second time. Edmure didn't have many boundaries, she had hoped that would grow away when he got older, but it never did. Though he still had some years left before he was a lost case, he was only twelve, after all.

"I had no idea that was going to happen, please forgive me" she said in a low voice as she put her phone back in her bag.

If she looked at him she wouldn't be able to see him again. She would have to delete his contact in her phone and erase every proof of that they had ever met.

"My older brother and my sister are exactly like that, I get you."

She had a feeling of that he wasn't looking at her either, but rather up at the sky.

"There's always some comfort in not being alone, I guess."

"There is."

She took a deep breath and then went in for a quick hug. Based on the way his whole body tensed at first she thought it had been a miscalculation from her side, but then he laid his free arm arm over her back and hugged her back. They were only in contact for a few seconds, but during that short time she once more got to feel how warm he was. His future girlfriend would be lucky to have him in the winter, it was nice. He was nice, all of him.

"We'll have to see each other again" she said when they parted.

"Definitely. Will I hear from you in the near future?"

Catelyn scratched Oden behind one ear. He had patiently been standing still and waiting while they had been standing there and talking. Why weren't all dogs like him? She would have liked them a lot better if they were

"You’ll hear from me as soon as I know when I can. Take care."

"You too."

She threw a glance over her shoulder when they walked separate ways. She did so every few seconds until Ned and Oden had disappeared behind a corner and she could no longer see them. She sighed, that sure had been a lot. They had done quite well, she would like to lay the blame with Oden and Edmure for that it had gone as it did. In the future she wouldn't answer any calls from Edmure while she was around people, it was better that way. Much better. When was back home and had climbed up all the stairs to the sixth floor she was met by ABBA. She hadn't even opened the door yet, but she could clearly hear "Dancing Queen". They were probably watching Mamma Mia!, Ashara loved that movie. Catelyn was almost positive she herself had seen the movie half a hundred times just because Ashara put it one at least once a week.

"What the hell did you do in order to look even more like crap than we do?" Cersei asked when she caught sight of her. "Really, what happened to you, KitKat?"

She felt like she was doing a walk of shame. Except for that she hadn't had sex with anyone, she had just spilled coffee all over herself and the person she had been meeting with. She needed fresh clothes. And dinner, she was starving.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, I need a while to process the whole thing."

"Sounds like a successful date" Ashara hummed to the tune of the chorus of the song.

"It was eventful, if nothing else.”

"There's pizza for you in the fridge, if that makes anything better."

Catelyn stopped to look at her, almost believing that she would start crying over some pizza.

"Really?"

"Yeah, go wild."

"I love you, I'll join you in a minute, I just need to change my clothes."