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#btw these gifs are so damn funny

pandoraslxna · 9 months

Note

PLEASE IM IN LOVE WITH YOU. REJECT ME SO I CAN MOVE ON PLEASE I BEG OF YOUUUUU

Never bby I will never reject you 😏🫶🏻

#your posts are so damn funny btw #let me drop a follow babes #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ asks 💌#𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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sinning-23 · 5 months

Text

SIT, LIKE A CHAIR

Opla face sitting/p*ssy eating headcanons

Warnings: dude the title is warming enough lol. ITS 18+ BRO

Zoro

-Fuck around and hover if you want to. He’s already got his arms around your thighs, forcing you to sit.

-He’s got some kind of sorcery or some shit with his tongue cause what the fuck.

-oh you thought he was stopping after you came once? Hahahaha that’s so funny.

-makes sure you are shaking and fucking shivering when he’s done with you

-Will make sure you know how much he loves the way you taste.

-“That’s it honey, cum on my face.”

Usopp

-unfortunately doesn’t know what the FUCK he’s doing when he eats but is very very fucking skilled with his fingers.

-we all know this man’s nose is 5 mf stars and would be nice to sit on and he knows this fact.

-on the occasion that he asks you to sit on his face he’s putting everything to work, using one hand to simultaneously spread your cheeks and keep your things flush against him.

-the other is already coaxing another orgasm out of you while his tongue circle slow around your clit.

-doesn’t talk when his mouth is full, he’s got manners lol

On the rare occasion he does speak it’s often after all is said and done

-“now you can brag about being eaten out by a legendary captain”

Sanji

-oh he eats religiously. Like is that even a question?

-he gets really fucking sloppy too. He’s got your juices and his saliva down his chin and all over your thighs.

-sometimes it feels like the eating is more for him than you (sometimes it is lol)

-expect lots of worship when he’s positioned under you. He prefers to eat when you’re sitting on the edge of the counter or table and he’s kneeling down in front with your legs over his shoulders.

-“I’ve never tasted anything as divine as you. Tout va bien pour moi”

-Has definitely cum from eating you out alone

Nami

-Oh she’s fucking ruthless. I mean just so mean when she eats.

-She likes to draw loving circles on your thighs and then offset that sweetness with a pinch.

-She’ll make it seem like she’ll be nice and let you cum, only to stop completely, eyes laser focused on that adorable little frustrated knot between your brows.

-Is a bit of a shit talker honestly and between how well she works her fingers inside you, how good her tongue feels on your clit, and each teasing comment she throws your way, you’re left spiraling.

-“Ohhh how cute. You gonna cum on my face just like that? You can hold on a little longer can’t you honey?”

Shanks

-If you look closely you can see that his facial hair is slightly bleached.

-We know the fuck why.

-He makes sure you know just how much he loves your pussy when he eats. I mean yes he’s slow and damn near torturous with how he asked you be patient and wait but it’s so worth it.

-He kisses up your thigh, then over the top of your panties. Then will suck and lick over the fabric until it’s soaked.

-Once that’s done, he takes em off with his teeth and licks one long, slow stripe up before deciding to suck on your clit for just a second. Soon after he’s pulling your closer by your thighs and eating you for all your worth.

-He will not talk, well…only if it’s to get you to sit still, his eyes peering dangerously into yours.

- “Don’t. Move.” (its pretty mf hot)

-holds your hand when you finally cum on his tongue.

Buggy

-He the best eater I know- he gets down. He don’t play

-if eating was a sport he’d be the champion.

-Teats your pussy like a meal(because it is in his eyes) and makes sure nothing is left behind besides your own slick, his saliva, and your trembling thighs.

He really gets into it too. I mean he’s moaning against your folds, slurping and drooling.

-This mf is a multitasker. His hands are definitely detached and holding the back of your knees to keep you from closing your legs. and he is working yet another orgasm out of you.

-He's a talker btw so expect lots of witty and raunchy comments while you're practically convulsing from overstimulation.

-"No one makes you feel like how I do huh princess?"

-"That's it honey scream my name."

-“I could eat you forever.” He whines with his mouth full of you

Mihawk

-He's not likely to eat as much. He doesn't dislike it but would rather give to you in other ways. However, despite this little thing about himself, he makes sure it's for a reason when he eats.

-For example, had a bad day? There's a remedy for that, come sit.

-Feeling a bit insecure and self-conscious? Let him show just how amazing you really are.

-Expect to feel a lot of vibrations with how much he growls and moans into your cunt.

-Not too much of a talker but when he does it makes not only your pussy throb but your heart melt.

-"Look at yourself. So beautiful my love." (there's a mirror on the ceiling)

-He isn't afraid to kiss you when he's done either. Wants you to know just how good you taste and that every time he has the privilege of having you sit on his face its like heaven (his words more or less).

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soobnny · 10 months

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classmate au | park sunghoon

❝ what do you have for lunch today? ❞

alexa play 0x1=lovesong

in your head, he’s the love interest with 0 interest in you🥲😢😢😢😢

it’s bc he’s so DAMN famous in your school

yes he’s your classmate .. ltrly in the same room but u cannot make conversation with him

he sleeps in class when he can like he will be DOZED OFF !!!!

nobody rly approaches the pretty boy

you’ve heard he’s rejected a handful of people before

you wont make a move for sure

so why does Park Sunghoon drag his seat so he’s sitting adjacent of you

why is he pulling out his lunch box and putting it on ur little table

WHY IS HE EATING WITH YOU

you don’t say anything when he does it

and he doesn’t say anything either

honestlyyyy…. it’s a little awkward like wtf is happening rn this is a Simulation

BUT you’re eating lunch together

and guess what

it becomes a constant thing too 😭

like he’d just silently drag his seat and you know he’s on his way to your table to eat lunch

is it because you’re one of the few people who eat in the room instead of the canteen??

tbh WHO CARES

unattainable campus crush park sunghoon is in front of you and eating lunch with you for some reason

it makes ur heart go crazy becos !!???!!!

he doesn’t rly acknowledge anyone

it’s bc he’s always busy being exempted for some competition

he finally starts talking to you when he sees you watching a yuzuru hanyu video during one of your little lunch sessions

tbh it was just a small video on tiktok that u scrolled by and returned to bc wow that spin was so cool

it’s when he starts making convo that u find out he’s actually SO funny and so unhinged

he’ll start laughing to himself 😕😕

also will tell the most UNFUNNY dad jokes

you only laugh because his laugh is so loud and so unrestrained

tho you do tell him his jokes are horrible

and he makes everyday a mission to tell you a joke that’ll genuinely make you laugh

it becomes your thing

he’ll just randomly show up in front of u and start cracking the most terrible joke

“rip boiling water. you will be mist!”

cue his laughter

you: 😐😐😐 not funny didn’t laugh

then sunghoon becomes more of a friend… not some unattainable crush figure !!! a friend !!!

some of his favorite things to do with you are watching videos during lunch AND sharing earphones while you listen to music

your fyp on tiktok now is both of ur shared interests

you even have a folder on each of ur phones for tiktoks u wanna share to each other that u pass by when u aren’t together

no he doesn’t send u the link like a normal person

sunghoon waits until class to show u so he can see ur reaction face to face

and the whole listening to music ??? u’ll just be seated side by side and staring into the distance sometimes

spacing out is wonderful <3

so now instead of sleeping .. he’ll just offer u an earbud so you can put it in your ear and listen to him

has a secret playlist for u (u don’t know this)

the photo for the playlist is the only photo u have together btw

it was when u were checking ur face on ur front cam and he just suddenly appeared in the back with a peace sign

it’s adorable

he bugged u to airdrop the photo 9284 times that day bc u refused to at first

it’s so 180 the way you suddenly become friends with him !!!!!

another thing he does is laugh at how you enjoy playing candy crush, calling you a grandma as if he doesn’t act like an old man

and then he gets so invested when you let him try

will cheat to get more lives and fuck up your time settings on your phone

btw he always talks about you A LOT 😭

his friends will know everything about you before you even meet them

“so, what level are you in candy crush?”, jake would ask the first time you meet

“excuse me, what??”

“sunghoon talks about you aaaall the time, it’s getting a little silly. like i know your go-to order at a cafe.”

“yeah like isn’t ur favorite color ___”

u look at sunghoon like ?????? and he just has a guilty smile on his face

but he doesn’t deny anything

you’d be shocked to suddenly see him as your seatmate one day like he rly switched with the person sitting next to you

laughing at your test paper scores together is also a fun little activity the two of u do

and then crying as you cram study in one of ur homes or on call when it gets too late

“hey can u help me with this chemistry question”

“ok give me a minute”

would open up those white board apps and screenshare his phone to start helping u with a part he understands but u don’t

he was 828283 screenshots of ur calls together

btw you CANNOT go to the library

you know that if you go to a library together … yall are NOT studying 😭

also u enjoy just shooting each other questions back and forth before the test

u would also probably come up with ways on how to cheat im sorry like u guys will have this whole grand scheme only to chicken out of it when u actually take the test

anyways

one day, you ask him why he had suddenly started eating lunch with you

bc like !!!! u’re happy he did but why so suddenly yknow

you’re grateful tho bc now u have someone to text like 25/8 and call whenever u’re bored

BUT U WANNA KNOW WHY. what started it

“i don’t know... i’ve always wanted to talk to you. you’re always so funny in class”

“and you didn’t say anything because??”

“i was gonna say something then i totally chickened out and then it was too late to say anything…. thank god for yuzuru hanyu.”

asks u to be his gf while teaching u figure skating for the first time

bc u finally ask him like dude why r u ALWAYS absent from classes

he’s like oh no biggie i’m ltrly just an athlete that competes in national events 😹😹😹

WTF !!!!!!!!

u knew he was competing in something but he never mentioned Figure Skating before

he is a fraud of a Friend

“sunghoon what does our friendship actually mean to u … WHERE IS THE LOVE”

but then he’ll go .. “want me to teach you?”

he’s forgiven now

“teach me figure skating??”

“yes” and he’s SOOOOO excited about it

he helps you find which skates to wear like he makes sure u have right size so ur feet don’t hurt

doesnt let u borrow those polar bears to hold onto

he can be ur polar bear

tho, when u do get tired .. he finally rents one and lets u sit on it while he pushes u around

it’s so much fun

except for when you fall

tho … it’s important for me to tell you that when you fall on your butt, he has heart eyes

and he holds your hands the entire time

he asks u to be his gf when you skate ur way across the rink without his help

sunghoon got so happy he just blurted it out

“be mine”

BYEEEEEE ofc u say yes

tho u think he’s joking at first

he does repeat it when you eat ramen after .. he’ll be like r u actually fr ??? did u actually say yes to me ??? u wanna deal with my jokes forever ??

oh dear

you should invite yuzuru hanyu to your wedding honestly 😭 thank u to ur fyp

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! last of the series, let me know what you think!

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whyse7vn · 1 month

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WORM -

[ jung hoseok x reader ]

HOSEOK ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

hoseok: wyd

y/n: can you talk to me like you love me pls

hoseok: there was sm love in that wyd i don’t what ur talking about actually

y/n: it felt like i was whore number 32

hoseok: ur literally whore 12???

y/n: you barely know 7 people let alone 12

hoseok: you literally said ur whore 32 so clearly i know more than 12 people

y/n: i said that it FELT like i was whore 32 not that i was

hoseok: let’s have sex

y/n: no

i’m listening to butterfly rn

ur interrupting

IS IT TRUEEEEE IS IT TRUEEEEEEEEEE

hoseok: no that’s actually so crazy cuz i wrote that song for you babe

y/n: ???

hoseok: and if you translate it the lyrics into hyroglifics it actually about why we should fuck rn

y/n: that is not true at all

also you did NOT write it according to my spotify

see

hoseok: i wrote it in my heart

y/n: ok

hoseok: do you like me

y/n: no not when ur wasting my time like rn

hoseok: maybe i just want to talk to you

y/n: ur boring

hoseok: wait why ur spotify in english ☠️☠️

this bitch can’t speak korean ohmygod 🤣💯😭🤦🏻‍♂️

y/n: and ur trying to fuck???

hoseok: i love you

y/n: i love you more

hoseoki: call me daddy

y/n: NO

hoseok: WHY ☹️

y/n: how many times do we need to go through this

you have thrown up BOTH times i’ve called you it

hoseok: what if i’ve changed

y/n: stop talking to me

hoseok: :p

maybe you need to encourage me more

a hoseokssi fighting~🥺🙏🏼💘

before you say it and i might not throw up

y/n: stop talking about it

hoseok: fine 😒

y/n: btw do you know where my pink hat is

cant find her i’m real upset

hoseok: btw i have not one clue where it is!!!

sorry to hear ur upset

don’t cry pretty

y/n: so ur telling me you don’t have it rn

hoseok: i don’t

y/n: answer the ft then

hoseok: i don’t want to

y/n: what if i’m naked

hoseok: are you?

y/n: no

hoseok: i’m not answering then

y/n: you have my hat hobi

hoseok: that is not true

babe ur like going insane i think

not good

let’s get you to a doctor

y/n: bring my hat home rn

hoseok: what hat?

y/n: i will NOT let you gaslight ur way out of this

hoseok: gaslighting isn’t real ur just insane

telling you we need to see a doctor asap no newjeans

y/n: don’t lose my hat pls

hoseok: why would i lose it

y/n: so you do have it

hoseok: whaaaatttttt

y/n: whatever just don’t lose it

hoseok: ok 😁

babe?

y/n: yeah

hoseok: miss you

y/n: is that why you took my hat?

hoseok: say you miss me back ohmygod

y/n: i miss you back

is that why you took my hat?

hoseok: wait babe ur spitting 🔥🗣️

y/n: i don’t spit

hoseok: no ur right

ur a good girl and swallow

y/n: ok bye

hoseok: ok i’m sorry come back 😢

i just want to fuck

y/n: ur life story at this point

hoseok: not true

there are times i don’t want to fuck

y/n: times like????

hoseok: i don’t have my thinking cap on rn

but if i did

i could name you times i didn’t want to

y/n: sure

hoseok: sure

y/n: sure.

hoseok: shorts tight as hell rn

y/n: shorts???

are you not cold

why are you wearing shorts rn it’s still cold outside

hoseok: my dick just THAT big i fear

y/n: jung hoseok

hoseok: ok i’m sorry this time i’m fr sorry

like actually babe

y/n: i prefer when you don’t lie to me

hoseok: my fault

did you believe i was sorry tho

y/n: no

hoseok: damn fr???

ur saying i’m not built for this kdrama life

y/n: you barely built for this one

hoseok: LMAOOOO

that wasn’t funny

if you thought i laughed ur wrong

don’t say things like that

i’m upset now

y/n: sorry babe

hoseok: it’s ok i forgive you

y/n: thx >_<

hoseok: is this you finally admitting ur in love with me

y/n: only a little

ur ego it’s getting a bit much these days

hoseok: always knew you loved me 💘😍

y/n: loved

hoseok: ?

y/n: past tense

hoseok: love

y/n: i didn’t say to change it

my love you in the past fr fr

hoseok: fr??

y/n: for real man

hoseok: man

y/n: yup

hoseok: remember when we were just friends

y/n: remember when we didn’t even know each other

hoseok: lowkey

take me back 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

y/n: that was my joke

you nasty little thief

hoseok: i’m not joking

y/n: if we breakup one day

ur gonna think back to this moment

and be like man

i was off my head

this was all my fault

why would i say some fucked up shit like this man

hoseok: you were gonna say the same thing tho?

y/n: but i didn’t

hoseok: ok

would you love me as a worm tho

y/n: i don’t even love you as you are rn

hoseok: OK WHAT

SWITCH UP IS CRAZY

LIKE CRAZY

NO JIMIN

you said you love me

y/n: LOVED

get it right

hoseok: ok wtf man

y/n: you wouldn’t love me as a worm

hoseok: who said that???

not me

ask me the question

y/n: would you still love me as a worm?

hoseok: no!!

y/n: kys

hoseok: my sweetheart ❤️

—

nah someone tell hoseok to let the daddy agenda go omg bf so crazy guys 🤦🏽‍♀️😂‼️

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

just realised joon was supposed to be next my fault LMAO

#bts crack #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts texts #bts fic #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #hoseok × reader #jhope x y/n #hobi x y/n #hoseok x y/n #jhope #hobi #hoseok #bts incorrect texts

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autumn-hiraeth · 10 months

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Hey ok omg so can you make a hobie x fem reader but like reader is Hispanic and hobie is gonna meet her family idk but I thought it would be so good bc Hispanic parents r strict sometimes I just think it would be so funny. Iol please btw I love your fics❤️❤️

hi!! I know I took my time and sorry for that. I know this is not exactly what you wanted so i really hope like it! <3

hobie brown x hispanic!reader

fluff. Headcanons.

a/n: i wanna hobie speaking in Spanish. Find more here " Hobie's masterlist"

Hobie met you when Miguel called for backup, then you showed up and kicked the vulture's ass in the coolest way possible. Hobie saw you say something to Miguel making him snort, then you walked towards him and smiled at him. " lindo traje, chico punk " And in a second you had him fascinated by you. Soon, You and Hobie are together,you weren't using labels, but Hobie let you know he was yours just like you were his, just you and him.

Hobie and you would spend as much time as possible together, sometimes Hobie would take you to his place - his canal boat- or he would go to your flat . One day you and Hobie would be so engrossed in a hot make-out session that you'd forget your parents were coming to visit. And, surprise!

Your dear parents find you, in your bed on hobie's lap while he kisses you like a hungry man. It was a bad idea to take his shirt off.

Your parents weren't supposed to meet Hobie 'cause it's a hard relationship to explain; he hates labels so you can't call him your boyfriend and he also doesn't even belong in your universe. But hey! He loves you so much. So the meeting promises to be interesting.

"Put on the damn shirt Hobie" you whisper, making Hobie smile at your nervousness while your parents are waiting in the living room. "What's wrong luv? thought you like when 'm not wearin' clothes" your eyes wide and you quickly place your hand gently on his luscious lips making him laugh.

"Now is a good time for you to go" you murmur and he takes your hand to remove it from his lips. " and leave my girl? Nah, besides think your parents wanna meet me" he winks. Your ears heat up when the first thing your parents ask if Hobie makes a habit of sticking his tongue in your mouth every time the two of you are alone.

"Ma! No preguntes eso" hearing you speaking in your first language makes hobie smile

“ dime hijo, how did you meet my daughter?” Hobie looks at you knowing he can't tell him the truth so he mutters. " conocí a la muchacha en el club" your heart melts when you hear Hobie trying to speak in Spanish and your parents seem satisfied with that.

" no es como los chicos que has traído antes Y/n" your mom mumbles and Hobie frowns 'cause he understood that. " Ma, él me hace sentir como nadie" then your father adds mockingly "sí, parece que se la pasan bien juntos" After a few hours of being questioned and being advised to use protection your parents leave you two and Hobie is looking at you so intense 'cause of all the things you said about him.

"So, 'm the best of all the ones you've ever had?" "and me the girl of your dreams?" you also tease and he shrugs "thought you already knew that" you bite your lip before muttering "yeah, you're the best I've ever had, but don't let it go to your head" " You said your parents would be strict"

" i think they liked you" you said as Hobie gently kisses your neck. " Just wait to meet my uncles"

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

real magic (explicit)

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

pairing: namjoon x reader

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

word count: 16.7k 😩

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

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

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

read on AO3!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Moni!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you after the holidays!”

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

You shrug. “Works for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be mine.”

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

A father who also happens to be your boss.

You try not to think about any of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peppermint mocha to go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But to your surprise, Sol looks up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But not today,” you announce to Nick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, okay,” you answer with a nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet, here he is. Proving you wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Different how?” you prompt.

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was going to say old.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is probably gonna stain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m just always nervous around you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #a hyung holiday

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thewulf · 10 months

Text

Oh Baby || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - hi! could you write a Hotch x reader where the reader is like a doctor so pretty much just like Derek and Savannah lol but with any plot line I just love that trope:) your writing is so good btw!

A/N: Tiny Angst / All Fluff - Thank you for the request. Short and sweet but super cute :) Super off the prompt... but enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 2.1k +

Oh shit. You sucked in a breath as you sat there and stared at it. The little test that was about to change your whole world. How was it even possible? You were so damn careful. So, so careful. Oh shit. It’s not that you didn’t want any children. No, you did. You wanted Jack to have a sibling. He had practically begged you and Aaron after the first year you were together. It was never the right time though. Work always seemed to be an excuse. Life had a funny way of doing everything opposite of your plans though.

You pulled the test closer to your eyes making sure that second line was really there, “Oh, shit.” You sighed setting the pregnancy test down on the bathroom counter. Running your hands across your face it was hard to fathom what the hell this meant. Your eyebrows pulled up as you dug your palms into your face trying to think what the hell this meant. This was going to throw every kink in every plan the two of you had made. Was he going to be mad? No, of course not. Aaron never got mad at you. Never, ever.

Aaron worked long hours but so did you, if not longer. Being the only orthopedic surgeon in the surrounding area that was worth a damn had you busy. Busier than ever. You’d successfully opened up your own private practice a few years back at the encouragement of your then boyfriend Aaron, now fiancée. He’d proposed a year ago now. The two of you were busy planning the wedding, now this? A baby?

The two of you had gotten together shortly after Haley’s death. That was three years ago now. You’d been living with the Hotchner boys for the past year after Aaron had proposed and things were better than ever. Jack even helped his dad propose to you by bringing in the ring during a fancy five course meal Aaron had prepared. When he wasn’t working he was doting on your or Jack. His two favorite things in the world, he made sure both of you knew it too. He’d learned a lot after his relationship with Haley. He’d made so many mistakes he was not going to make with you. He was going to make sure of it.

You and Jack got along thick as thieves. He knew he liked you when you helped him finish a Hot Wheels track and played with him for hours. Little did he know you were having the time of your life playing with the boy. Healing your inner child as he grew with his own right next to you. He’d taught you so much in the short time you’d known him. It was hard to fathom that he was about to turn eight on you. Well, at least he was getting that sibling he kept asking for. That was if Aaron wanted to keep it. He’d want to keep it right? You looked down at your stomach and sighed, “You’re going to make my life very difficult little one.” You poked yourself lightly. What a mess this was about to be.

You hid the test in your sock drawer. Not wanting him to find it accidentally. You ran a load of laundry frowning slightly when you got to Jack’s clothing. You’d missed him dearly. He was staying with Haley’s mom for a few weeks out in Arizona for summer break. It was his first long trip away from either of you. It was breaking your heart, probably even more than his. The house was far too quiet without him running around telling you all about the latest Call of Duty game.

You weren’t expecting the elder Hotchner home either. He’d normally give you a call or shoot you a text letting you know he was on his way home. It’d only been a few days since he had to jet anyway. These trips could last a week or two depending.

Would you be all alone having to care for the little one? Would he take a step back to help out some more? Would you be expected to step back from your career? All the questions swam heavily in your mind as you flipped the laundry over. A baby. You should be so excited… but this wasn’t the plan. This was the furthest thing from the plan.

Once you finished up you put some soup on the stove to warm. Not really having the appetite for an entire meal anymore. One of the perks of having your own practice was setting the hours for yourself. The more you worked the more you made. The less you did the more you could relax but make less. A dog-eat-dog world.

You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t heard his SUV park, the car door slam, and the front door open and close. Aaron had to call you out by name to bring you back to this reality. The one where you were freaking the hell out.

“Y/N, honey?” He called a little louder this time.

You snapped your head around not expecting him. But low and behold there was a text on your phone from hours ago. You just failed to see it. Oh, shit. Now you had some explaining to do. Were you even ready to tell him? He had every right to know. This was just as much his baby as yours, “Aaron. Hi.” Shooting him a forceful smile you

“What’s wrong?” He asked immediately looking around the kitchen as if there was an intruder

You shook your head, “Nothing. Sorry honey. I was just wrapped up in my own head. Big case came in today.” Lie. Dirty filthy fucking liar. You hated lying to him. But you needed a second to think. You’d had all afternoon to think… but not about this. Not about telling him.

He walked over to you peeling you away from the counter you were leaning over. His eyes danced from spot to spot on your body. Checking you over. Making sure, “Is that all? You seem upset.” He frowned while brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You opened your mouth but closed it quickly. Who did you think you were? You couldn’t hide this from him. His job was to read people. He could already read you like a damn book. He’d see right through any lame ass excuse you think you could give him.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” He looked concerned now. Why couldn’t you tell him?

Again, you opened your mouth, but the words failed to come out.

He took you by the shoulders, “Y/N. Honey. Come on. You can tell me.” He looked tired. So damn tired. You felt bad for doing this to him now. Ideally you’d tell him after a long sleep. After he was relaxed. Hopefully h

It just had to come out. That’s what you had to do. So, with wide eyes you spit it out at him, “I’m pregnant.”

His head cocked to the side as a smile turned up, “You’re pregnant?” The grip he had on your shoulders loosened a touch as he ran a finger along a shoulder blade gingerly. Almost as if you were the most delicate glass that could break at any moment.

You nodded almost afraid to meet his eyes, “Yeah.”

You closed your eyes breathing him in. Tears rolled down your cheeks before you buried yourself into his chest, “I’m so sorry Aaron. We’ve been careful…” You felt guilty? Guilt. That was it. Like you

He pulled you out immediately, “You’re sorry? Y/N. This is good. You’re pregnant baby! My baby is giving me a baby.” His usually stoic face broke out into a grin as he pulled you back into a hug. He squeezed you tight in his arms.

Some excitement broke through your nervous exterior seeing his joy at your bomb dropping, “You’re happy?”

“Honey.” He took your hand and pulled you to the couch right on top of him, “I’m so happy. We both want him or her.” He pointed to your belly with a look of deep admiration, “Why wouldn’t I be more than excited baby?” He pulled you in for a long kiss. A deep long kiss. He loved you so dearly. This was everything for him.

You shook your head after he broke away, “The timing is off…”

His smile calmed your nerves immediately, “The timing will never be right baby. We’ll find an excuse around every corner. Why not now?”

You felt every bit of anxiety escape down through you, “We’re going to have a baby, Aaron.”

He nodded excitedly, “We’re going to give Jack a sibling. He’d going to be beside himself.” Aaron chuckled running his fingers along your abdomen.

“Boy or girl? Which one do you want?” You asked curiously.

He shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. So long as they’re healthy. A little one of you would be really stinking cute though.” He leaned in giving your nose a quick kiss.

“I don’t know if we want to deal with all that drama.” You giggled remembering how much of menace you were from 13-19 years old. A complete menace with no regard for your parents. You grew out of it of course but it was rough there for a while.

He looked at you with the utmost love in his eyes, “She’ll be perfect. He’ll be wonderful. Life is going to get so much better baby.”

“We’re both so busy.” You didn’t want to bring down the mood, but you needed to know. To know if he had a plan. To know the both of you could figure it out.

“We’ll figure it out. If I need to step back I will. Don’t worry sweetheart.” He squeezed your side giving you a small reassurance.

“You’d do that? You love your job.” You frowned hoping

His laugh brought your eyes back level with his, “I love my job yeah. But I love you more. Love Jack more. Love this baby so much more than you can even imagine. So yes, I’ll step back if we need to. You are my priority. This baby is my priority.”

You didn’t think your love could grow more for the man but here you were. Your heart was swelling for him. It swelled for all the love you were feeling from the man of your dreams. It was by chance that you met him.

You were the on-call surgeon that night. Only on call once a month. And you’d been called in. A member of Aaron’s team had been shot and needed surgery to repair and stitch the wound back up. It was touch and go. You’d almost lost the man on the table, but he pulled through.

Aaron thinks he fell in love with you right then and there. You were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on. And you just saved Spencer’s life? Yeah he wasn’t going to let you slip out of his grasp. Lucky for you he didn’t. He stayed at the Hospital until the end of your shift. In panic he asked for your number in case he didn’t see you again.

It started as quick coffee dates when he was in town. It progressed quickly to you babysitting Jack and facetiming Aaron more often than you wanted to admit. You were smitten, quick. The rest was history. Sure, he was a bit older than you, but it was everything you could’ve asked for and then more. He was the kindest, sweetest, most thoughtful guy you’d been with. You were happier than you’d ever been. You’d worked through the struggles of both your jobs and the lack of being around. Thank goodness you did because you’d ended up with him. You’d had the pleasure of falling in love with him.

“You’re my priority too Aaron. I can always find another surgeon for the practice. Stay home for a while.” You grinned thinking about it. How lucky would you be if you could pull that off?

“We’ll do whatever you what baby.” He pulled you back in so you were laying on his chest, “We’re having a baby.”

You smiled up at his giving his cheek a quick kiss before nuzzling into his neck, “We’re having another little Hotchner.”

He held you in his arms laughing just thinking of the chaos, “Good luck to us.” He was so excited. So beyond excited to do it with you.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556

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restinslices · 4 months

Note

Hi I’m the anon who asked about the popstar one! (Loved what you did btw) If it wasn’t too much of a problem I love if you could do the Lin Kuei boys + Syzoth too!

Me finally getting to my requests?! Who would’ve thought. Everyone got around 300 words besides Syzoth, who got 400. Why? No further questions.

Bi-Han

You can change him? Well I can accept him as he is! You don’t like the murders? Grow up! The atrocities are a part of him and I’ve decided they’re funny :D

I know the Lin Kuei are a part of Earthrealm but are they allowed to have technology?

For the sake of this, imma say technology is very very limited

With that being said, what do you mean you're a pop star? It's not that he doesn't know what it is, he just doesn't get why. All the things you could be doing and popstar is where you landed

I don't wanna make it seem like everyone is supportive but him but this is Bi-Han. He's going to judge

He's the Grandmaster so he's always busy. Going to concerts isn't happening and honestly? He doesn't give me the vibes of someone who's a fan of concerts

He doesn't hate your job, he just genuinely doesn't get it

Remember how I said Kung Lao will give you brutally honest advice? Same goes for him. You can always trust the truth to come outta him (unless it's about the father he let die but anyway)

I don't see him doing anything special. I don't see him buying posters or tickets or streaming or concerts. He cares for you but doesn't see the need to do all that.

If he did stream he'd probably just put the video on repeat on his phone and go do other shit. At the same time though, do they even have cell service? Where is Lin Kuei HQ??

Absolutely refuses to add ice or snow to your set for an MV. Be a team player. Damn. Stop thinking everything is beneath you.

“That is entirely beneath me” “aight, I guess you don’t want me beneath you”

He apologizes for his outburst (I was making that joke happen by any means necessary)

I just think he's the most nonchalant about dating a celebrity. Probably forgets you're a popstar

Loses a piece of his sanity everytime a Lin Kuei ninja loses their mind over you. Actually wants to join his father in the afterlife. How y'all even seeing these performances? Y'all sneaking off?!

You're disturbing his peace but hey, it is what it is

Kuai Liang

Also doesn't understand why that job, but he's less judgmental than Bi-Han. Not everyone can defend Earthrealm.

I also don't see him doing a lot. He's busy and also he's just not interested in being around a bunch of sweaty ass fans. Nothing against you

If he did buy your merch I think he'd set it in like, a box. He only bought it to be supportive. He's not gonna hang it up or anything. To be honest, he might give it to the rest of the guys (Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao, Raiden and Liu Kang)

I see the Lin Kuei as private and not really interactive when it comes to normal citizens so I honestly don't know what to say for them 😭

I don't even know if Kuai Liang likes pop music. Him and Bi-Han give me the vibes of someone who listens to white noise to past time

Like Bi-Han, he's nonchalant about the whole celebrity thing.

Probably doesn't even have a phone. He probably got an old ass mp3 player. What are you doing with that?

If your songs are more calm and chill, I can see him liking it when you sing while he does something

Popstars wear dramatic ass outfits and this is definitely when he starts judging you

“How does it look?” “It… looks”

He's used to practical outfits so I think he subconsciously spots all the ways your outfits could injure you

“You could be easily spotted” “That's the whole point”

Will he add fire to an MV for background effects? Possibly. He has to have nothing else to do and be absolutely bored out of his mind to do so. Bi-Han says no out of spite and “this is beneath me”. Kuai Liang initially says no and has the same “this is beneath me” thought process, but he folds easier. There's certain things he is absolutely not doing though

“I am not saying 'get over here’ for you” “You're so not fun”

This relationship feels like a hostage situation but oh well

Tomas Vrbada

He wants to be as stern and serious as his brothers but we all know I babygirlify him so it's not happening

He doesn't have a phone but he asks Johnny to use his and have your shit on repeat for the views

Idk why but I feel like he's a Twice stan so he's no stranger to pop music. I have no reliable sources for this

I could see him buying pins and keeping them in his pocket since he can't have it on his outfit

I don't think for any of the brothers, your fans would know you're dating which is something they'd want. They're assassins. They can't be all over the internet.

Doesn't go to concerts because he can't. Such a sad life

Gives background smoke for effects cause he's a team player

Wants to be the first to hear anything you're working on

Gives you honest advice but nicely

I think he has conflicting feelings about you always being in the spotlight. He loves that you're happy but is also worried because that comes with danger and if smth were to happen, there's a good chance he wouldn't be there

I feel like Tomas can lowkey sing (once again no reliable sources present) so karaoke? karaoke.

You could talk him into doing a collab but it'd never be released. It'd just be for you two

He wants to keep up with everything you're doing as it's happening but once again, no phone. Instead he just checks in with you whenever he sees you

The most aware out of the brothers that he's dating a celebrity.

Probably the brother you'd feel the most supported by because he's the most expressive (?). He makes his support very known and doesn't question why you're doing what you're doing

He doesn't give me as much Ken energy as Johnny does, but he still gives me “Ken only has a great day if Barbie looks at him”. Like I said for Johnny, you're Barbie regardless of gender

Syzoth

Does Zaterra or Outworld even have popstars? For comedy sake, imma say not exactly

He was ran out of Zaterra and he was working for Shang Tsung, so even if they do he had no time to actually enjoy music

So when he hears you're a popstar, he has no idea what you're talking about. You have to genuinely explain what your job is, what you do, what's a tour, what's merch, etc. etc.

Like the Lin Kuei Bros, he has no phone. He doesn't understand technology at all. He's like a grandpa fr, so his interactions with your music is slim to none when it comes to music videos

Explain it to him as many times as you want. He doesn't get it.

You have to actually show him the video on your phone. You have to show him any merch you have so he can pick whatever he wants and you can sneak it to him

Prefers you singing for him live rather than watching a music video but he watches them anyway because you're really proud of them

Like Tomas, he likes little pins or other little trinkets

Since he was in a traveling circus, he knows what performing is but you're getting paid and treated fairly which he finds fantastic

He is slightly worried tho from his time being in said circus. You have to explain that they're two different things (sorta, not really) and you're ok

Has no idea what's going on but is supportive anyway

He tries really hard to understand Earthrealm customs and culture to better understand you. Is he successful? Probably depends on the subject

He doesn't get merch at all or why it's so stupidly expensive. If you weren't giving it to him for free, he probably wouldn't buy it to be honest. He likes that you're proud of how it looks but why is it necessary for success? He just doesn't understand it

Concerts he somewhat gets. The idea is cute but once he sees videos of people fainting, he swears he's never going to one of those

Does not want your fans to know you're dating him. Does not want to be in any of your videos as himself or a lizard. Wants nothing to do with the spotlight. He has trauma with being known.

It'll take awhile to explain to him what fan culture and memes are, but he's ready to learn for you.

Idk if I wanna write more silly shit or angst shit. I guess we’ll find out next episode

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kabuki-draws · 5 months

Text

I watched Ridley Scott's NAPOLEON yesterday and it was a complete Waterloo.

Yes, I am a big history nerd with a giant heart for movie adaptation of historical topics. But when I watched NAPOLEON I sat there... and tried not to laugh. It was not only so historical inaccurate, that I wanted to cry, at the same time it was filled with cringe dialogues, red flags and terrible color grading. This whole movie made me so sad yet so angry, that I HAVE to write this review:

(Disclaimer: This review is based on my own opinion. If you enjoyed the movie, it's completely fine. Btw. in that case or if you agree with me, feel free to tell me your opinion. I would love to know!)

First of all: Don't get me wrong, the medium film has its own rules and you can't put as much historical accuracy into a big scale movie as you would into a documentary - sometimes the story needs to be altered to be a good movie. And that is fine. Even if Gladiator is a complete fictional story set in the Roman Empire, I can still enjoy this movie for what it is: A good-written story with great characters, a beautiful score and iconic scenes. With Kingdom of Heaven it's kind of the same - and while the movie cut was very inconsistent, I still kind of liked it. But then the Directors Cut made it a a masterpiece for me.

Funny enough, both of these movies are made by the same person: Ridley Scott. So naturally I thought: Well, Napoleon won't be a historical accurate film, but I surely will enjoy it anyways. Well, ...no. It is not only historical incorrect, it's also a bad movie overall.

To start it short: NAPOLEON clearly lost itself in all the various topics it wanted to tell within a runtime of two and a half hours. It made the whole storytelling very weird and inconsistent, causing the problem, that the audience even loses itself in the questions of when and where. Where is that scene located? When did that happen? And then comes the question: Why is this even happening?

Ridley Scott wants to depict Napoleon as a lover, a military genius, a big political figure, a revolutionary and more. But in the end he tells all of this in the most shallow way possible, which waters down Napoleons personality traits and achievements to a series of small scenes. You never get a glimpse of the "true" Napoleon, who was described as a highly intelligent and charismatic man. In fact, you never really feel ANYTHING about him except that he was a cringe red flag in front of his wife. He just stands there, stares and has very limited dialogue scenes to get a picture of that man. What are his overall motivations? Only Josephine? If so, why is this motivation only vaguely explored?

The whole love story between him and Josephine feels so unnatural and got to the brink of being disgusting. This is particularly sad because I deeply respect Vanessa Kirby and Joaquin Phoenix, they're both stunning actors. I don't know if they just couldn't fit the role or if it was rather a problem of the script (the last one is my guess). Yet whenever I saw Josephine and Napoleon on screen, I felt like acted very stiff and forced. Napoleon seemed more obsessed with her than actual love and that can be a character trait, but there wasn't a chance to explore that deeper. Before the movie entered the cinema, the lovestory between these two was marketed as intense, obsessive, deeper than you could imagine. What the audience got was a few scenes without real conversation, much staring and a bunch of cringeworthy s-scenes. And seriously, these "sexy" scene were the worst. I was so disgusted by them because they were SO DAMN WEIRD. There are no scenes that undermine ANY deep love between Josephine and Napoleon. It felt therefore so off, when they still longed for each other after their divorce.

And let's not start to ramble about the fact that they depicted Josephine ONLY in a somehow sexual way. Yeah, there is that scene where she says to Napoleon, that he is nothing without her. BUT SHOW, DON´T TELL! You never see her doing something instead of sitting there, talking with others or when the plot needs her to have sexy time with someone (not only Napoleon). As a woman myself this makes me so freaking furious, you have no idea. I don't need a marvel-coded super-strong woman with unlimited talents - I just need a female character that is written GOOD and plausible! Make me CARE for her plot and for the plot of Napoleon! Both of them don't even feel like normal human beings because they're like blank pieces of paper with their names written on it!

And don´t make me start to talk about the historical inaccuracies. At first I didn't want to draw that card. Actually, I don't need a historical movie to present 100% facts. If the movie is still enjoyable, it's okey. But even if many people say that the war scenes were awesome, I can only partly agree. Yeah, we have that cool ice-lake Austerlitz battle, but it took me a couple of minutes and a better look on the uniforms to know that Napoleon is now at war with Austria! You get nearly ZERO context to Napoleons battles. Yeah, nice, the scenes look cool - but there is nothing more to it? Is that all you need to show for the audience to care? For me at least, I just didn't care at all and I was very happy when I got out of the cinema. Overall this movie is full of messy non-sense choices that don't contribute to the story. Many moments just confused me and it left me with the question why Scott couldn't simply hire some historians to put together a consistent story. Everyone who read about Napoleons life knows that there are so much cinema worthy moments in his career that would've been so much better than what we now got.

I could ramble about that movie for hours if I´m honest, but I hope this little TED talk was enough to make my statement clear.

In the end, it just makes me sad. I wanted to like this movie, I wanted it to be good. For months I hyped myself up to this, read books about Napoleon, watched the trailer all over and over and talked with friends about how great this movie will be. Now I am just disappointed and frustrated. Oppenheimer was such a great biopic of a historical person that became a great success at the box office - even without great battle scenes. I hoped that Napoleon would push a cinema revolution, that shows people want big scaled films about historical personalities and history topics. But now I just want to forget this Napoleon movie to be honest.

#napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #napoleon movie #ridley scott #joaquin phoenix #vanessa kirby

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barblaz-arts · 2 months

Note

Hey! Since you mentioned "Soul Eater" before, can I ask what you think about it? From the anime, from the manga (if you read it), the powers, the story in general, the ships, the chops, the humor, etc.

The anime was stunning! I love that it managed to translate the gothic but campy vibe the manga had. The soundtrack was insane too. I used to be so obsessed with Paper Moon and the second ED. Even the character OSTs like Kidd's theme and BlackStar's theme were really good, even if the lyrics didn't make a lot of sense.

The character designs and powers/fighting style for each character was soooo cool btw. The aesthetic for this whole show was just so good. Like. If Tim Burton and Doctor Seuss went and collaborated on an anime idk what I'm saying.

And the animation for the fight scenes were just mesmerizing. Bones(the animation studio) are just real damn good at what they do.

Seeing Maka fight with that giant scythe changed my life. At the time shounen rather than shoujo/slice of life anime were my thing. It was my first time seeing a female main protag for a shounen anime, that was probably one of the reasons I was as obsessed with the show as I was. I saw myself in maka for many reasons, i loved her a lot.

I had my gripes with the anime. Like. The ending was a lil weird with how they defeated Asura, but I did love that it had Maka also be a weapon. Also the fact that Crona was alive and well by the end is a nice bonus.

I vividly remember being obsessed with this scene in particular. I had such a huge crush on them lmao

Also not to like out my cringey 12 yo self, but I used to ship Crona/Kidd. Looking back it's so funny.

Soul/Maka is still one of my favorites anime ships ever tho. Ships that start off being besties that gradually turn romantic are just always gonna be my favorite i guess

Also just... Soul's dedication to always keep Maka safe was so dang sweet??? He'd catch a sword on the chest for her. He'd break her fall for her. He'd really do anything for her. Like damn...

As for the manga, yes I did read it! I think it ended when I was in high school? I followed the manga as it updated along with other mangas like Pandora Hearts and Reborn etc. Soul Eater was the only shounen I finished reading (Unless PH counts as shounen. I don't think it does...).

The direction it went with was so painful. Crona leaving Maka and going back to Medusa was my NaruSaku fallout istg. It sucks that things didn't end happily for Crona in the manga, but I still enjoyed the journey it put me through. As dark as it was, the chapter where Crona finally kills Medusa was kinda cathartic.

And although the manga didn't have weapon!Maka, i like the upgrade when she honed the abilities of her grigori soul. Maka riding scythe!Soul like Cardcaptor Sakura with her magic staff was so cool. And the way she had Soul's blade turn into piano keys and turned the black blood into a dress was kinda badass. I wish we get to see these in reboot FMA brotherhood style someday

The humor was great. My brothers and I still quote/reference a lot of the funny stuff from it. I just wish it wasn't one of those animes that can get so pervy to the point it's uncomfortable....

Anyways, loved it a lot. Sorry I probably could have talked about Kidd and BlackStar too and I love them, but this reply would be a lot longer than i have the energy to do lol. They're popular anyways. This show had one of the best female anime characters in Maka and it will probably always have a special place in my heart.

And the chops? Great as always

#asks

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lvrcpid · 1 year

Text

road trip! - modern!au

— something tells me y’all are going to disney

— everyone met up at the sully house at 4:30 am on the DOT

— neytiri threatened to leave lo’ak since he didn’t wake up on time

— jake didn’t feel like taking multiple cars cause he thinks gas prices are insane so he rented a huge caravan to attach to his truck

— he drives a ford F150 btw

— there isn’t really a seating arrangement but trust ronal, neytiri and your mom are in the back sipping wine/juice and gossiping

— your dad sitting in the passenger seat while jake drives and tonowari in the back seat since he called dibs

— alright let’s get into the funny stuff

— not even 10 minutes in and lo’ak is complaining he has to pee

— neytiri tells him “there’s literally a bathroom?”

— he doesn’t want to get up cause him and tsireya are watching the new season of ginny and georgia

— kiri is definitely in a window seat cuddled up watching her shows while tuk is next to her playing adopt me on her ipad

— you got stuck with aonung and neteyam

— they’re just glaring at eachother cause wtf i wanted them to MYSELF!

— rotxo could come this time (YAYYYY)

— but he was knocked out on the couch as soon as they got up there

— jake has the worst road rage

— he stay cussing someone out while tonowari is tryna defuse the situation

— your dad is just listening to sports podcasts

— baseball specifically

— neteyam bugging everyone to play crazy 8

— tuk ate y’all up every single round

— when it FINALLY came time to stop at a gas station, lo’ak was the first to get up

— he came back WITH THE MOST SNACKS

— i’m talking candy, chips. the whole 9 yards

— i’m too lazy to write the snacks everyone got but something tells me the men have hella slim jim wrappers in the truck

— you playing tic tac toe with ao’nung because he was bored and his signal went out

— speaking of signal, there was a point in time everyones signal went out for like an hour and it was pure chaos

— neteyam was probably reading when it happened so he didn’t even care

— a lot of “damn!” when jake swerves around someone

— neytiri calling him upset cause “there’s a pregnant woman and CHILDREN BACK HERE JAKE.”

— tsireya and kiri looking at ears they want to buy to match with the boys

— lo’ak and rotxo looking at them like ??? whatever makes you happy babe

— lo’ak knocked OUT. i’m talking snoring, spit on his shirt

— something tells me he sleeps like he has 4 kids and mortgage to pay for

— you and tsireya made a lot of tiktoks

— i mean a lot

— you , neteyam and aonung decided y’all were gonna be different and wear goofy ears instead

— ronal asks for a time check and only realizes it’s 7 in the morning and y’all have 8 more hours to go.

— cue a conjoined sigh

— tuk made you play those tiktok games with her and you actually had a blast

— tuk is so cool i love her

— i’m gonna stop here cause it’s getting long but if y’all want me to write one where they’re at disney then lmk 🤭

tags 🏷️: @23victoria @avtprint @bucky12345 @boilingpots @Marcswife21 @elegantkidfansoul @itsyogurl @stars4deku @stvpidscvpid @uniltsatirey @urdeadpoet @annamarieisbae @graysonmalik2550 @blueberryfailureclinic @jordan-network

#avatar #avatar x reader #awotw #neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #sully family x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #tuk avatar #jake sully #aonung x reader #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch #modern!avatar #avatar 2009

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fishsticksloser · 7 months

Note

Sup! ITS ME! Did you miss me?

Could i request Donnie x gn Reader

Where Donnie is chilling with reader in his room

And they just talk about random stuff like

- how long was the longest spaghetti noodle ever?

- do you really think my genius mind would even think about such an unsual thing?

…

10m

- 10M?! 5m.

(It was 3,8 m btw)

And they just rumble about stuff, and at some point reader asks donnie if he’s alright 'cause he seems really uncomfortable, he replies it’s just his Battle shell and reader goes with „Yo how much does it weight anyway?”

- a lot

- for Real?

- wanna try it out?

- you’re asking? Gimme that

And well donnie just gives reader his Battle shell and reader just falls backwards bc of weight of it

Idk ;w;

Hope it’s not too long nor specific, and it’s not too chaotic <333

And sorry for spam 😅

Fun Fact Fanatics

Donnie x gn!reader

Warnings: weirdness, fluff, cuddles, short

A/N: This is so funny. I genuinely believe that Donnie likes to look up super weird facts.

Donnie was laying next to you, facing you. Your fingers lightly trailing up and down his shell, his fingers trailing up and down the back of your thigh as it was hooked over his hip.

"Did you know that more than half of the bones in your body are in your hands...?" You mumble, Donnie's eyes close as he hums at this knowledge. "So someone saying they'll break every bone in your body is lying... Or they plan to do some very tedious work."

"Did you know that shrimp's hearts are in their head?" Donnie responds, smiling as he feels one of your hands move to caress the back of his head.

"The longest hotdog is 204 meters..."

"That's almost 670 feet..."

⋆｡ﾟ｡☁︎👾｡ﾟ｡⋆

"Does your back or shoulders hurt?" You ask, watching Donnie take his battle shell off. He groaned as it came off, setting it on his hooks. Donnie rolls his shoulders, you could tell it was painful or sore.

"A little, but I'm used to it." Donnie shrugs, his body still a bit stiff. Your thumbs press into the back of his shoulders to relieve the tension.

"How much does that thing weigh anyways?"

"Wanna try it out?"

"Uh, yeah."

Donnie grabbed his battle shell as you turn around. He gently sets it on your back. You almost fall backwards with how heavy it is, not realizing how truly big it was. Donnie quickly catches you, causing both of you to laugh.

"Damn... It really is heavy."

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sassymax2000 · 1 month

Text

2024!Bill Kaulitz X Daughter!Reader(Headcanon)

A/n this was SOOOOOOOOO fucking fun to make! Btw just in case your new to the daddy x daughter thing,ITS A PLATONIC! HC. okrrrrrr enjoy :) ITS SHORT

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

(HE IS SO FINE IN THIS PICCC THOO)

He panicked when he found out you were gonna be born. He had knocked up a girl,who wanted nothing to do with him OR you.

But,When you were born and he held you for the first time-OH LORD he was star struck 🤩 he fell in love with you instantly (again,FAHTERLY LOVE)

He spoils you ROTTEN,you want a new dog? Dogie has teleported into ur room,you want a new…I DONT Know-Gucci shit? CHA CHING💰💵🤑 want a new dad?- no just kidding 😂 who would?

Matching clothes is MANDATORy,he won’t force you,but he will pled and beg for you to go matching😞leaving you no choice…so yea he forces you😂

He tours AALOT so you have a personal Nanny,she’s sweet and kind (he made SURE she was before hiring her.

With your uncles..ngl your dad gets frustrated, because theses ‘Men’(boys) are sending you mixed messages,Tom is giving the vibe ‘don’t tell your dad,just tell me everything about your problems’ Georg….well….Gustav…..it’s just Tom😅 the rest are good influences.

(Funny Story,when you were learning your first word,they all gathered together because they KNEW you were gonna say it……you started reaching out for Tom…while calling him ‘dadda’….they all looked at Tom,going’OOOOOOOOO’ while Tom was looking at you in fear,not wanting to make eye contact with your FUMING Father. Thst was the first fist fight your EVER saw🫢🤭 Oopsies- but damn bill was PISSED,he was so jealous and angry that you didn’t think he was your daddy🫢)

If you got hurt as a kid,and you were crying? HAVE NO FEAR DADDY IS HERE!he would knelt down in Front of you, ‘shhhhhhhhhhhhhh’ing you,to soothe you,holding your head in his chest.After you calmed down he would set you on his lap,as your head would he gently pushed into his chest,he cared for the scrap Very carefully,annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd…..done! You were in pain no more,my good lasie 🧓(sorry I’m stupid)

Comforting you while you cried,is honestly,so fucking hard for him,especially if you wanted to alone. He would just sob in the other room,because he knew that you were hurting so bad,that you don’t even wanna talk to your favorite person💔 Eventuelly you needed his comfort,and he ran to the rescue! He would hold you so tight,and let you cry in his chest,when your done,he would ask you what happened,and if someone hurt you,he has to ‘talk’ to them…oof-🫢

So feel like he would be..AMAZING, he would love you soooooooooooooooooo FUCKING MUCH, cuz that’s what daddy’s do.

***v****v*vv******g

A/n this was sooooooooo fun to write…but it is now 3:35 in the morning🥱 so good night 💤 I hope you liked it! (It was short I know)