#by way of shitting on him before shoving him out the door down 50 flights of stairs. as also discussed. c'estlavie

[unproduciblesmackdown]

working off a presumption that winston gets sent off in the first quarter of the season, Also presuming that it's not simply like as fond in-universe as possible (e.g. reluctance all around, a nice chat with taylor, kiss on the head, etc) b/c like, nobody ever gets that, & even though it's more possible re: finales, again, just Presuming winston sure won't get that:

ofc possible that it's decided that the Conclusion for winston's character ought to be an "answer" to his being autistic, but interpreted both in & out of universe as oh this person is inconsiderate, arrogant, hostile, etc. so that is just finally allowed to "catch up with him" and like seize any conflict or grievance anyone has with him as the excuse to push him out, pwning him one last time b/c he refused to Learn His Lesson & either become allistic or just essentially see himself out, either by quitting or shutting up forever

but imo it would obviously be more fun at all if the Conclusion for his character is instead focused on the also more substantial "if a character is on billions their life has gone awry; they have shown up with their [problems] suitcase at the [more problems] sunk cost factory" wherein like....winston's autistic, he's trying to be valued as a person by being valued for his quanting, and this whole time he's been succeeding Enough at that in that he was hired & hasn't yet actually been fired, but like, probably actually nobody's working back from [begrudgingly valuing winston's quanting] to valuing winston himself, even also begrudgingly....you've got rian wringing "value" from him more generally b/c by & large their moments of friendship seem to just be something she wants to take from him in those specific moments, check back 5 seconds later & that may have stopped being true & she'll be lashing out b/c What Matters is that this is all on her terms serving what she wants, which is also winston's (& anyone's) relationship with their role in his job overall. rian's above him in their own social duo, also as an employee in tmc, everyone else wherever he works are also always above him socially/professionally....i know it was like oh too busy to film much and we can't really come up with an explanation so winston's just absent from tmc get-togethers in s4 w/o anyone speaking of it at all, but like, forever whew ouch the Verisimilitude that aligns anyways like. of course he'd just unspoken collective agreement be singularly excluded

anyways to this end we Know he's not going to get an ending of finally finding [ppl have liked/valued him as a person b/c he convinced them to want to try b/c they like/value his quanting :) ] like that's never a guarantee for anyone, the [irl autistic ppl trying to "make up for" the dislike / rejection they garner for being nd by being a Good Co/worker] just leading to having to quit / be fired b/c of burnout anyways and nobody cares....there'll be some extra shit in the mix to be sure, but what i'm saying is like, if winston just Does cause a Problem on his way out out of pettiness, out of [ruin everyone's day this once like how has been done to him fifty thousand times] out of [make people pay attention to His Work(tm) b/c they won't pay attention to Him even in the end here] out of [just being pissed & getting any revenge by even like doing the equivalent of taking a not precisely aimed huge swing at mpc as a Fuck You that anyone will have to care about / exert any energy over, vs that if winston himself just expresses Fuck You interpersonally then nobody would care & would just ignore him as he left]

point is like i wouldn't be mad if he gets petty at Anyone b/c like uh, yeah. singled out at Taylor would ofc be a downer but like, if they actually get to interact about it? that'd be Something, for sure, and we're never guaranteed something. he has plenty of cause to be hostile to rian b/c to the end here she's decided to be [the person who hurts him, deliberately, continually], all while getting preferential treatment from the person he's Really been here for the whole time, just as salt in that wound even if rian didn't choose that part entirely on her own. could definitely anticipate it at least being marginally more enjoyable than what's easily expected: winston only getting some unceremonious sendoff in the midst of a scene about other shit, with everyone getting to immediately completely move on

all of this ofc about like, pretending like oh whatever billions does with winston cannot hurt me. but also not Really pretending that, and also it already has lol, i'm frustrated & annoyed as i have been abt things we've learned like [hip hooray rian and dollar bill on the trading floor. what bliss] and [nobody will mention that william exists or has ever existed behind the scenes like ugh please] and that [victor's staying power is so so annoying too just like it was when are you kidding we're getting rid of bonnie instead of him? kill me] but like. it'll hurt me and i'm just bracing to roll with that and it's also been about already clocking in at the [ow. ouch] factor abt this shit Ahead of time lol, you can't have just flipped some switch....but i also know billions may not just completely let us down & may even give us fuckall, and that knowledge is also further setup for pain lol. Can't truly have zero hopes, unforch. but also whatever also begrudging forch b/c like, we do have fun. i have my hater energy but it's not genuine but it also is lol like leave me to my galaxy brain idiosyncratic exact experience that i am having, as [we are not the same] w/frustrations & grievances as w/delights & revelations (when you are reveling in something)

basically it's like, i Would rather that the [quantessence] of winston's character be His emotional hangups that are required to even be on the show, namely, an autistic person desperate for recognition of his personhood through "merit" fruitlessly proffered to offset his rejection, or, as stated, to indeed at least be Needed so that he can have the like bare begrudging hollow inclusion of [being allowed in the building, literally], and have the "resolution" of this issue even being, very billions aptly, simply to be forced to give up on / let go of / have taken from you the means to keep acting on that motivation as you have been: for winston, naturally, having this job, working for taylor as Thee taylor mason loyalist, and understander, and supporter....all that, rather than centering Everyone Else's Hangups abt hating & rejecting an autistic person. tragically, can't put it fully past billions to not prioritize any & all other characters, and at winston's expense, basically just as has been happening to winston in-universe the whole time (& already out of it, like, where are his little arcs even just for fun? where is his being allowed to talk to taylor, or like, in general? where is he in most of s7, now? you didn't have to send him off early at all.) but also can't put it fully past billions to suddenly devote thought & effort to the character, god forbid that truest conduit for our hopes & dreams manifest which is that, if nothing else, winston gets to say something to taylor that they listen to b/c they choose to actually consider things he says, even though, indeed, they don't "have to," 4x11 to 4x12, through tears "Q is for Quantitative, babey," for sure. and even this time make it clearer that's obviously what happened, though like, there is fuckall on this show that can be made "clear" to the whole audience out here so yknow. at the same time like as though someone couldn't go "for the wynnstans" like look all the audience who also doesn't devote a neural spark to winston no matter what is not gonna care either way. but i will care so much forever. already i will probably be thinking "winston dick energy" every day for the rest of my life

you may notice as i have that i'm basically like gee billions would be fun if you at all gave winston material about him being a person in his own right rather than solely getting in one more Use of him as whatever object resource plot device for other characters' [being a person] like. would it count if (this will not happen) rian has to think about how what it means for her as a person that she Hasn't been treating winston as a person? eh, that's sure indirectly anything i guess. taylor's our best bet, someone who has already listened to winston & talked to him person to person & understood him & whom he's here for, & because of, & etc. tuk is winston's friend for real but he probably won't get to do anything, it'd be fun if idk they hug, or are confirmed to continue to hang out & get laid together, or wave & smile across the room, or anything. really obviously would go off the rails do anything blast off for the winnie n tay but you know. here we are, forever, doing it for them

#winston billions #he's put in his time like he is allowed to be petty for pettiness's sake at this damn rate #Letting Winston Be Mad and not just have to shrug it off b/c someone told him to shove it? would indeed be something #and so on etc etc etc The Post #and ofc you Cannot guess what the first ep of a billions season will bring you Cannot guess what will be happening [three eps from now] at #any point in a billions season. & finaleness is just an entire wild card for the whole ride #just oscillating b/w ''i expect nothing re: winston billions content'' & ''jk of course'' & ''no i meant it. ugh'' & ''etc'' #the very [interpretation as a narrative friendly] alignment re: [ how to think & talk abt being autistic] alongside [wynnstanning] #the old ''you can't do anything to be liked or respected or treated decently or even valued for doing what other ppl are valued for etc'' #i'm not like preemptively ''boy how Meanly it would reflect on winston if he basically big reacts to how he's been treated the whole time'' #like....actually everyone else brought it upon themselves #ofc there's forever the narrative that the disempowered & victimized are themselves actually the (latent) aggressors #conveniently making it an imperative [oh my hands are tied! forced!] ''reaction'' to preemptively further disempower them #conveniently making them all the more vulnerable to further abuse in doing so. is thee point #while in turn ppl being the mythical ''perfect victim'' who suffers it all forever in silence is Ofc never fulfilled. is also thee point. #unless ofc also being the Perfect Victim also means you physically fought so hard at every point that you weren't victimized at all :) sooo #just like how Oh It's Winston's Fault for how everyone's forever deciding to treat him. isn't it always; in any iteration of a hierarchy? #yeah; um....a lot of that stuff was insulting to me. #and but maybe billions just decides what's really important is that winston's a joke (at his expense) & devotes attention to him once more #by way of shitting on him before shoving him out the door down 50 flights of stairs. as also discussed. c'estlavie #just saying some things (me) #absolute tangent but playing a violin for how [imagine canon genderfluid rian for realsies lol. etc] almost plausibility lol like #besides immediately going ''could go either way w/if they'll vaguely let the character be bi but is the actor. i bet'' (yes) #nowadays; after having the [most likely to keep accidentally referring to w/they/them/their pronouns] evidence re: rian's character; #it Is like. yeah Energy of like a not quite having realized or been out abt being nonbinary person playing a supposedly cis person. lol. #forever like even if rian is that supposedly cis binary woman she could have been allowed to be more gendrous. No Makeup ever petition #she may not have ever been destined to get to be A Character but it would've been more fun.... #guess it's not over till it's over on that front lol but. also would've enjoyed it more back in s5; even s6 times. here we tf are....

[another-fantasy-world]

The Bets

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GIF isn’t mine

Pairing: Elle Greenaway x Fem! Reader, Jemily

Summary: A little session of betting stupid shit with Morgan, Garcia and Dr. Reid gone wrong. or in which Elle and Y/N join the Mile High Club

Warnings: 18+ Mile High Club. (Which means light smut okay?) Brief Classic CM violence. Jemily cuteness and soft Elle.

Word Count: 2,016 words

Anyone ever wondered what it’d be like if Agent Greenaway worked with Agent Prentiss? I don’t think we were ready for the amount of POWER these two would have if they did work together. The amount of death glares and sass towards assholes and misogynistic men-

also, the lack of Elle fanfics is now considered a crime-

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It all started when you walked into the bullpen, bee lining to your desk, setting down your stuff and immediately hearing Morgan’s chuckles and Garcia’s giggling while they huddled around Reid’s desk.

“Ohhhkay? What is going on? I understand that like, there’s no case yet today but it’s waaaay too early for you guys to be giggling.” You furrowed your brows at them

“Nothing is going on cutie pie. You just made me win a bet. “ Garcia looked smug while Morgan just glared playfully

“How was I supposed to know that they didn’t have fun last night, much less leave a hickey?” He says, referring to you and Elle

Being the only couple who’s been formally approved by Hotch, Strauss and the HR, the both of you were proud of your relationship. Elle often comes in after you because you make her fetch your coffee in the morning, and you often disappear during lunch because you were off on a food run for her.

And don’t even get me started on her glaring at men who had the audacity to flirt with you, then smirking when you turn them down with an emotionless look on your face. She was yours and you were hers, and you both weren’t afraid to announce that.

“Oh we did. Just not last night. It was this morning.” you nonchalantly says, shrugging your shoulders

“Did you know that morning sex is better than evening sex?  Men can experience a daily 25-50% differential in testosterone in the morning, translating to a huge appetite for early sex. For women, however, significant changes in testosterone don’t happen daily, but monthly, with the largest increase happening mid-month during ovulation and that increase is not nearly as dramatic as what men experience...” Reid rants, making you all stare at him, not moving so as to not interrupt him.

“Thank you Reid for that interesting fact, where did you even learn that?” you ask him, you were truly curious as to where the doctor reads his facts when it was apparent that he hated the internet.

“Encyclopedia.” he states, a little giddy from just sharing what he knows.

“Psst. Lovergirl. Here comes your own personal devil.” Derek wiggled his brows, pointing with his eyes to the door, knowing that it’s Elle you just smirked and laughed.

“One, Lovergirl? Really? You couldn’t think of better nicknames?” You started, turning around to get your coffee from Elle, kissing her cheek

“Derek called you the devil.” You whispered to her

“What?” Elle playfully shoves Morgan

“Hey! No snitching!” He whined

Elle just gave him a pointed look before turning around, her desk just in front of Reid’s. She sits down before stealing your coffee. Your lips barely open to complain, but closed immediately when she gave you that same look she gave you earlier today when she was sipping...something else. With wide eyes and tomato red cheeks, you mumbled incoherent words before just walking away, embarrassed. You even forgot that she stole your café made coffee, all you could think of is Elle’s lips on yours, slowly kissing down-

Your cheeks reddened even more when you heard Morgan guffaw. Pouting slightly, you directed your attention to the stack of paperwork piled on your desk. You sorted them out first before actually doing it. A few minutes pass by and you feel a presence behind you, then they block your light, indicating they were tall and buff...

“What do you want Morgan?” You sighed out, closing a case file, moving into another one. Wanting to just finish and come home with your girlfriend and just cuddle.

“Bet you can’t make Elle blush like she did you.” He proudly stated

You looked at him with a ‘I’m so done with you’ face, you could see that he was serious and you just sighed, you might as well entertain yourself.

“You wanna put money on that?” Famous last words.

Morgan put 50 bucks on the line and you just couldn’t resist, you went on with your day as usual, frowning when you sift through tons of paperwork, dragging your feet just to get coffee from that damn awful coffee machine and finally, asking for Hotch’s permission to go out and get lunch which he approved, getting your keys, kissing Elle’s cheek, rushed out and went to that one food chain that both you and your girlfriend loved.

Girlfriend. Such a common word, but you and Elle made it special. All the emotions and feelings compiled in a 10 letter word, all the pain, tears, blood (you got shot protecting her and she slapped you when you woke up just because of that. But that’s also where she first kissed you, so no complaints really), pining, and happiness you guys went through just to get to this point.

Arriving at the BAU office, you hurried up, shifting your weight from one leg to the other as you watch the numbers go up anxiously, the line stretched on and on, making you at least 5 minutes late. Elle gets cranky when she’s hungry, and for your sake and the rest of the team, you hurried your ass up.

When the elevator finally arrived at your floor, you rush to Elle’s desk, who’s now glaring at the computer screen.

“Bubba~ I’m so sorry. Here, I’ll make it up to you” You set down the paper bags on her desk, you made sure to get extra just to make it up to her.

As you set down the paper bags, you discreetly leaned down, placing your lips right beside her ear and nibbled on it a bit, your hair providing the necessary curtain of privacy you needed. You quietly moaned as you briefly whispered a few profanities into her ear before straightening yourself up. Smirking at how red Elle’s ears and cheek are, you looked over to Morgan who was now staring, dumbfounded.

You smiled smugly at him, lifting your hand up and motioning for him to give you his --well, your money. He frowned before slapping the crisp 50 dollar bill on your hands, huffing in annoyance.

“You betted on me?” she gave you that ‘no non-sense bitch face’ thing, and your blood ran cold. You could remember what happened the last time she gave you that look. You weren’t able to sit on a chair properly for weeks.

“Oh- Uhm. Erm. You just eat your food yeah? I have paperwork to finish.” You turned to get away from her, but she tugged your shirt from behind.

She puts her palm out and looks at you expectantly. You pout at her with your pleading eyes but she just raised her eyebrow at you. You groaned and went to give it to her, only to be interrupted by JJ.

“We’ve got a case?” You ask her, discreetly slipping the bill in your back pocket.

“But there’s only 45 minutes, 15 seconds and 3 milliseconds left.” Reid whines

“Sorry Guys. Hotch says we’ll debrief on the jet.” She says, walking off holding the files while Emily lifted both their go-bags to her shoulders, following JJ, making you roll your eyes at their obviousness.

You looked at Elle and she stared back at you, smirking and nodding at each other before hurrying to gather your stuff.

Once everyone settled in, Garcia popped onto the computer screen and she explained the details of your case. There were multiple strings of suicides following a major highway, but there were a couple items missing. Jewelry, electronics etc. You concluded that it’s most likely an organized unsub, who steals and framing the victims as suicide, but in multiple ways. 3 women were hanged, four were shot in the head, 3 shot in the stomach and 7 stabbed, yet there weren’t any blood trails around.

After the debriefing, the team settled down, deciding to take a nap during flight. Reid was curled up in the couch, his book in his hand that’s draping down to the floor, Hotch with his head on the table and Rossi with his head leaning on the window, Lastly, Morgan who was reclining his seat, slept with his earphones on. JJ and Emily are nowhere to be seen so you just assumed that they were cuddling somewhere.

No words were spoken. Both you and Elle just basking in each others presence. Occasionally sharing opinions on what you think of the unsub, and then she just stared at you with a look in her eyes.

“Elle? Bubs?” You ask her, you always were the one for nicknames, you made one up as soon as you met her, and how it slowly changed from scary girl, to pretty girl and now to Bubs and Bubba. It really amazes her.

“Come with me.” She whispered, dragging you to the plane lavatory.  

She locks the door and stares at you. You gulp as the two of you were pressed against each-other in a tight space. She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you in a passionate kiss, like she was afraid you would suddenly vanish. Sadly, both of you need air, pulling away for just a second before your lips attach to her neck, being careful not to leave marks, You really don’t think Hotch would like the thought of the two of you doing each-other in such a public place with him in a 20 mile radius.

After a few moments filled to the brim with muffled and silent moans, euphoria, smirks, punishments and hair-pulling later, the both of you fixed yourself. When you both looked appropriate enough, Elle opens the door to a JJ who’s also opening the door to the other lavatory right across yours, with a panting Emily sitting on the toilet.

You peeked over Elle’s shoulder and seeing the scene in front of you. Safe to say you were shocked. Really shocked.

“Emily’s a bottom?!” You whisper-shouted in disbelief, making both of them blush and your girlfriend chuckle.

“Guess who owes me a hundred bucks?” She smirks at you

“Noooo. Ellie. Please, I bring you lunch everyday!.” You pleaded as you follow her to where you were previously sitting.

“Uh-huh, No backing out on bets remember?” She pulls you to her side, hugging you from her seat. She rarely shows affection in public like this so you usually ingrain it in your memories, take notes or just plainly cherish it, living in the moment.

“But a hundred?”

“You won fifty from Morgan earlier and I want it back.”

“But I won that fair and square”

“You used me to gain that money Bubs, I don’t like that.” You grumbled but gave her a hundred bucks anyways, smiling slightly when you remember that she’s the one who buys the coffee for the both of you anyways.

“Hey, uhm-”

“Everyone knows.” You and Elle simultaneously replied when JJ and Emily sat in front of you

“Honestly, did the both of you think that we wouldn’t find out? We’re profilers for heaven’s sake!” You deadpanned, playfully glaring at them

“I think we did a pretty good job at hiding actually.” Emily scoffed

You glanced at Elle, barely containing your laughs before returning your sights to the couple in front of you, 

“Em can you help me with something?” “Jayje? Can you come over? Sergio needs a babysitter” “Em can you pick Henry up? Michael needs a haircut” “I played a lot of scrabble with some girl named ‘CheetoBreath’” You mimicked the both of them, pretending to be talking to someone on the phone.

“Okay! Okay! Stop. Stop-” Emily playfully glares as she and JJ both have red cheeks.

You and Elle continued teasing the couple for a few more minutes before moving from topic to topic, ranging from double dates to near death encounters that scared the shit out of your girlfriends.

It’s moments like this that make your gruesome job bearable, the teasing, the laughter, the feeling of family. You could never imagine yourself working with other teams at all. And that, in your opinion, is what makes the BAU indestructible, no matter what the consequences may be. 

#elle greenaway #elle greenaway x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #jemily #cheetobreath #criminal minds imagine #jennifer jareau x emily prentiss

[raysofcrosby]

Give us the preview bestie 👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽

hehehehe i also have ethan’s reaction typed up too if we want that 🤪 but without further ado, here it is💛

*wltay bonus chapter spoiler beneath the cut—unedited of course*

She shut the drawer and walked into her and Matt’s bathroom, leaning against the bathroom counter and staring down at the box as she exhaled heavily, opening it and tilting the three tests out of the box and into her right hand. Suddenly, she felt that same fear she had back when she was 17, even though she was older now and her situation was different. Caroline wasn’t a 17, almost 18 year old high school senior whose boyfriend was going off to live and play hockey in another country. She’s a 28 year old woman with two degrees, a successful job and is set to get married in two weeks.

But standing in right now holding the box of pregnancy tests, she was more nervous than scared. Her and Matt had talked about having another baby, but were going to wait until after the wedding to actively try for one. That gave them enough time to settle down and unpack in the house they’d bought in the same neighborhood that Gio and Lauren live in and came highly recommended, just at the end of the season and were set to move into in August.

Which meant that they weren’t going to try for another baby until that August and September time frame, which would put them at a summertime delivery, where Matt wouldn’t have a 50/50 chance of being away for a game or God forbid, a long road series in the States or anywhere else in Canada.

Yet if any of these tests said positive, then that meant they could be sitting at a much earlier time frame— depending on how far in the pregnancy she was…if she was even pregnant. For all she knew, the stress and fatigue she’d felt really were from dealing with school and finalizing the wedding details. And that sudden craving could’ve just been her body saying “hey, calm the fuck down and have some ice cream and fries,” instead of “hey, lol…you’ve got a baby in here!”

“Hey, we paused it for you cause I know how much you love Tim Riggins,” Matt laughed, walking into the bathroom, his right thumb pointing back over his shoulder as he stopped in the doorway “What’s that?”

“I bought it at the gas station before we picked you up.” Caroline handed him the box, still clutching the three tests in her right hand as she draped her left arm across her stomach. Matt turned the box over, his eyebrows furrowed until they raised as his eyes skimmed the pink front.

“Have you taken them yet?” He asked, lowering the box as he looked at her.

She shook her head, sighing heavily. “I’m 28 years old. I’ve been here before…” she looked at him, a frown on her face. “So is it bad that I’m absolutely terrified?”

He placed the box down onto the counter and walked in front of her, stepping close and trapping her in front of the counter as he reached up and cradled her face. “You’ve got me this time,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. “I’m right here and I’m not leaving. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“This...it’s earlier than what we wanted,” she whispered, looking down at the tests in her hands. “We’ve got so much stuff to do to get settled...if these come out positive and I’m pregnant, then–”

“Then we’ll just have to shake it up,” he replied, getting her to look at him again. “There’s nothing that can’t be pushed back and we’re not doing this alone, Care. We’ve got our families, we’ve got friends here to help us out. We’ve got this...so stop psyching yourself out and pee on the sticks, okay?”

Caroline laughed and nodded, standing up and resting the tests down onto the counter, before standing in front of the toilet and turning around. “Can you get me a cup?”

“A cup?” Matt asked, furrowing his brows. “Don’t you just pee on the sticks? Why do you need a cup?”

“Because it’s three different tests and each needs to be peed on for a certain amount of seconds, Matthew. And who’s to say I know how long I need to pee for,” she sighed, looking at him. “Please, just get me one of those plastic cups from the pantry or something?”

Matt nodded and walked out of the bathroom, sliding the door partially closed behind him. Caroline unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down along with her underwear before sitting down on the toilet, awkwardly waiting for Matt to come back.

“Okay one, Ethan’s FaceTiming Melody and says to tell you hi,” Matt said, pushing the door open before walking into the bathroom and closing it behind him. “And two, here’s your solo cup.”

Caroline took the cup and looked at him. “You’re staying here?”

“I mean…yeah? You peeing in front of me isn’t something that bothers me. I’ve literally been inside-“

“Okay but please just…wait out in the bedroom or something? Just so I can pee in peace without you staring at me.” She sighed.

“Sure, I’ll let you pee in peace,” he laughed, walking over and kissing the top of her head before walking back towards the door, sliding it open and walking into their bedroom before sliding the door closed.

Caroline tried not to think about how nervous she was or how stressed she was going to be if she was in fact pregnant. Instead, she focused on their upcoming wedding in two weeks. How everything back home in St. Louis was prepared and all of their stuff for the wedding had already been shipped down. Now all they needed to do, was make sure their mail was redirected for the summer, their fridge and freezer were empty and make sure they were at the airport in two days time to catch their flight.

She folded up some toilet paper, placing it onto the counter before resting the cup on top of it, then moving to finish up before going on to washing her hands. Her hands weren’t even shaking as he unwrapped each pregnancy test and unfolded the instructions, making sure using this cup was an okay method to do.

One by one, she dipped each test into the solo cup, holding it for the allotted time before resting it back on top of the instructions until all three tests were done. She rid of the cup, pouring it into the toilet before flushing and tossing it into the bathroom trash can, reminding herself to empty it before they went to bed.

She washed her hands one more time before she walked over to the door and opened it to see Matt leaning against the wall just outside of it. “Permission to come into the bathroom now?” He smiled, standing up straight.

“Permission granted smartass,” she laughed softly, rolling her eyes.

“How long does it take for a result?” He asked, leaning against the bathroom counter and looking down at the three tests.

“They’re three different tests,” she said, reaching behind him and grabbing the box, turning it around. “The digital is three minutes, the rapid test is 45 seconds and the early result is a minute.”

“Oh shit,” he huffed, looking at her. “Do you just want to wait the whole three minutes before looking at them all? That way if there’s a mixed result we’ll know?”

“Yeah, that’ll probably be best,” she nodded, crossing her arms as Matt pull out his phone.

“Three minutes starting now,” he said, starting the timer and putting his phone down on the counter before grabbing her hands and leading her out of the bathroom and over to the bed. “And we’re waiting out here so you don’t stress yourself out staring at the timer.”

Matt sat down first, reaching out and holding her hands again as he pulled her closer and she stood between his legs. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, his hands coming up the backs of her thighs.

“Just how I can’t believe I might be pregnant. I’ve never missed a shot, and we’re always careful about having sex near the time period where I’m set to get a new shot.” She sighed, resting her hands on his shoulders before moving them down his back. “And if we do, we use a condom just to be sure.”

“Maybe you’re not pregnant and you’re just stressing yourself out,” he shrugged, tilting his head up at her. “Why do you think you’re pregnant anyway?”

“I was craving a milkshake and fries.”

Matt snorted. “That’s it? All this panic because you wanted a milkshake and fries?”

“It was one of my top cravings when I was pregnant with Ethan,” she pouted, linking her fingers together at the nape of his neck. “But I’ve always been stressed, exhausted, a little achy-“

“You also just wrapped up your first school year here while planning a wedding in St. Louis and I literally had to carry you to bed last week because you fell asleep grading extra credit assignments on the couch.” He laughed, fingers brushing against her thighs. “Maybe your body is just telling you to relax a little and indulge in some sweet and salty treats.”

She slid her left hand down beneath the collar of his shirt, fanning them out across his back as her right hand fiddled with the chain of his necklace. Matt’s gaze still on her own as she sighed. “What are you thinking about?”

“What we’re going to do if you’re pregnant or not,” he said, shrugging.

“And? What’s that?”

“Well, if you are pregnant, then once E goes to sleep we’ll celebrate in our bed,” he smirked, wrapping his hands around her thighs before tugging her onto his lap, her knees on either side of him as he rested his hand on the curves on her ass and placed soft kisses up the side of her neck. “And if you’re not, once E goes to bed we’ll come right back in here and spend all night trying until you are.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, trying to shove him back. “You’re so annoying,” she laughed, trying to wiggle out of his arms as he blew a raspberry against her neck. “Matthew!”

“Might not want to do that,” he laughed, holding her tight in his lap. “I really don’t want to have to walk back out into the living room with a raging boner, where our 10 year old son is currently waiting to finish the show.”

“Speaking of raging boners,” she sighed, leaning back against his arms hugged around her waist. “That book my Dad told me to order? The one that’s by the same Doctor who wrote that care and keeping of you book I had when I was 10, but this one is for boys puberty? It came in the mail and is currently sitting by the front door, waiting for you to open it and present it to your son.”

“Oh, now he’s my son?” Matt laughed, groaning soon after. “Do we really have to? I mean he’s only 10-“

“10 and already needing to wear deodorant, Matthew. Boys start puberty at 11, but can start as early as 9. He hasn’t asked any questions yet, but I think it’s best if you just sit him down one day and go over the book.”

“Why don’t we go over the book, hm?” He smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I’m sure he’ll want the mom support there.”

“I’ve already dealt with 4 year old Ethan asking how to get his penis to go back to being floppy, Matthew. At the breakfast table, with my parents and Andrew sitting there.” She smiled, patting his shoulder. “I’ve done my duties of awkward boner talk, now it’s your duty as his loving and supportive father. Besides, I doubt he’ll be comfortable asking me any questions. He still can’t be around me in his underwear unless he has shorts on.”

Matt pouted, sighing. “Fine. Tomorrow we’ll go out and have a fun guys day before I ruin it with your puberty book. Or I could pull an ultimate embarrassing dad move and do it on the plane,” he smiled.

“That’s guaranteed silent treatment,” she laughed, kissing him. “But Ethan’s pretty good with body talk since my Dad’s a pediatrician and I’ve always answered questions as appropriately as I could whenever he did ask. He just won’t want to talk about it with me.”

“Yeah, well I-“ Matt’s generic iPhone sound erupted from the bathroom, signaling that the timer was done. They both looked over towards the bathroom before back at each other, Matt’s hands moving up towards her lower back. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, kissing him one more time before sliding off of his lap and standing up on the floor with his assistance. Matt grabbed onto her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers before bringing it up and kissing the back of her hand.

They walked into the bathroom, Caroline stopping just before they reached the tests and turned around, looking at him. “I take one and you take one? Should we pick up all three?”

Matt laughed. “Relax. We’ll each grab one, then, if needed, we’ll pick up the third.”

Caroline nodded, staring at the tests before picking the one up on the left, Matt reaching for the one in the middle as they both looked down for a result. Caroline had picked up the digital test, because her answer was staring right back at her.

YES

“Did you get a defective test?” Matt asked, furrowing his brows. “I thought the lines were supposed to be super faint or something.”

Caroline looked over at his test, seeing the bolded second line before grabbing the last test on the counter and seeing the same result. “No, they’re not defective. That just means I’ve got some serious hCG levels going on.”

“So you’re pregnant?” He asked, looking up from his test.

Caroline nodded, turning the other two towards him and laughing quietly. “I’m pregnant.”

Matt exhaled softly, blinking as he stared at the three positive results before the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. “You’re pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

#thatch-ho3 #answered #wltay

[suckerforsmylex]

Little Red Riding Hood - Pt. 1

For my O.G. nonny who requested Lil’ Red, I’ve revamped it slightly and if you guys like this, I’ll bring back the remaining chapters and finish this one out. Enjoy and watch out for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 🐺💋

“Jackie, get the fuck in here!”

Nikolai was always an asshole, but he was in an especially shitty mood. He didn’t like waiting and I had made him wait with Jackie at the trap house for over an hour. I misplaced my car keys and had to toss my whole apartment for them before I left. I was stuck in bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic before I finally got there.

They thought I was backing out and were arguing loudly when I knocked on the door. First, there was silence as Nikolai checked me out through the peephole. Then, the sound of the deadbolts unlocking and the chain coming off the door. The door opened abruptly and I was greeted with a shiny, special edition glock to the temple and forced into the kitchen.

Nikolai yanked Jackie by her skinny ass arm and pushed her down into the chair next to me. “You have thirty minutes to learn how to swallow this shit and then get it all down, Red. I’m not fucking around. You don’t want to fuck this up.” He slammed down a bottle of vegetable oil, an industrial size box of condoms and about 100 packets of heroin stacked high on a plate.

“Nik, what the fuck! That wasn’t the agreement. I’m not swallowing that shit,” I yelled out and backed away from the table. “What the fuck do you mean that wasn’t part of the agreement?!” Nikolai was waving the glock around and sweating profusely. “She’s taking the shoes, babe. I toooold you Lana’s doing the balloons! You’re such a fucking tool.”

Jackie was in the middle of laughing when Nikolai backhanded her across the face. Her lip was bleeding, but she just sniffled and wiped at the blood with her sleeve. She was still laughing a little. I couldn’t stop looking at her track marks.

“Fuck…right…um…come here, Red I don��t have all day here,” Nikolai said impatiently as he walked over to the closet. He pulled out a pair of black, Gucci wedges. “There’s 50 packets worth of H inside of each shoe. Well, not so much inside as they’re part of the fuckin’ fabric. My guys liquefy it and shit.” Nikolai stepped back smiling. He was proud of himself. The shoe method of drug running had worked everytime.

“So don’t be fucking around with these shoes on, they’re delicate. Take the plane into Gotham International then go to down to the East River Pier. Falcone will send a guy to come and pick you up at the airport and take you to the yacht and that’s where you make the drop. I’m giving you $2K up front and you get the other $7K when you finish the deal.”

I pulled off my Prada flats, put on the wedges and shoved the money Nikolai gave me into my tote. “$10K, Nikolai. They’re supposed to give me $10K altogether. So maybe you’re supposed to give me $3K?” I stood there with my hand out. Nik rolled his eyes and peeled off another $500 and shoved it into my hand. “Tough shit. That hour you made me wait cost $500, bitch.”

“Fuck Nik, I need that money!” I screamed out. I needed that money badly. I was a high-end shopping addict with a penchant for prescription pills and liquor. I owed money to a grimy loan shark and was late by three weeks on the vig. I was holding him off with heady flirtatiousness but he was becoming increasingly inpatient. He threatened to slice my face with a razor the last time I walked out of my apartment.

“Take the shoes and get to the fucking airport Red.”

——-

I waited on the packed TSA line behind a mom and her two kids and prayed for no drug sniffing dogs. I had my docs ready and handed them over to the TSA officer. “Scarlett Agnelli.” He said my name like he was reading a weird recipe he googled on the internet. It was strange hearing my government name. Everyone I knew called me Red. He looked me up and down. I smiled a toothy grin and he gave me a wink. “Have a nice flight, beautiful. Take care of yourself.” I never have any trouble with men. At least at first. They all pretty much high tail it when they discover I’m a lunatic.

I waltzed my way through TSA without ringing any alarm bells and even had time to visit the M.A.C. store before boarding the plane. At least Nikolai sprung for first class this time. I ordered a glass of white wine, swiped on a bit of red lipstick, spritzed myself with perfume and threw on my red cape. It always got cold on the plane and I wanted to snuggle up for a nap.

I woke up and we were throttling into Gotham International. The snow was starting to fall over Gotham making it look like the inside of a snow globe. I turned on my phone and sent out a text to Nikolai to let him know I landed. I freshened up with a little Evian spray and combed out my long brown locks. I grabbed my carry-on and set out to meet whatever goon was sent to get me.

I stood outside on the arrivals platform looking around. Gotham was beautiful at night and even though it was cold, I didn’t mind waiting. I pulled the hood of the cape over my head so my hair wouldn’t get damp with snow. Pretty soon I’d be collecting my money and be snuggled up at whatever boutique hotel they put me up at. I was already thinking about the mini-bar and room service.

A low voice woke me up from my thoughts. “Hey there, little red riding hood. I’ve been waiting for a sweet thing like you all night.” I looked up to see a very pale man with slicked back green hair and cool blue eyes. I gave him a once over. He was dressed in a white button down shirt and black trousers. His shoes were expensive as was his watch. His extended hand was covered in gold rings. His look was a little strange, but I decided he was suitable to drive me.

Falcone must have sent one of his made men. I guess he stepped up his game because of the amount of H in these shoes.

I shoved my carry on toward him. “Is this going to fit in there?” I motioned over to the purple Lamborghini by pointing at it with my mouth, my chin coming up slightly and my lips pursing. He started laughing uncontrollably. His laugh chilled me to my core but I couldn’t help but be curious. I decided then and there that I was up for a little adventure. He couldn’t touch me with all this H on me anyway.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He grabbed the bag from me and our fingers touched. I felt an immediate spark of heat. “Scarlett, but call me Red, everyone does.” He rolled his head to the side and snarled. “Red. I like that.” He drove like a maniac, peeling out, not stopping at traffic lights, blowing stop signs and generally being a nut case.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing? Hello? Precious cargo over here. Do I have to remind you that I’ve got the product on me? You’re attracting unwanted attention. Falcone is going to slice your balls off if we get pinched, sweetie.” This got his attention. “Falcone?” He asked in a soft purr. “Yes honey, your boss. What’s your name anyway?” He grinned a wide smile and I could see his metallic teeth.

Fuck. Falcone has some seriously scary people on the payroll. He’s pretty hot too but he’s about as sharp as a spoon.

“Call me, Mister J.” I took my phone out and started getting driving directions to the pier area. “Ok, Mister J. Where are we staying tonight? I need to rest so we can make this drop bright and early tomorrow at the pier. Listen, I’m looking for 5-star but I can do 4-star if Nikolai forgot to make the reservation.” He leaned towards me with a wink. “I know just the place, doll.” His eyes were undressing me. It was nothing that I hadn’t experienced before but this felt different. I found myself flushed and hot. “Can we roll the windows down in here?”

“Sure Red, anything for you.” J smiled and put his hand up to my cheek. The coolness against the warmth building there was explosive. We parked outside the hotel and I tried to get myself together. “Did you bring the other shoes for me?” I asked curiously. “Shoes?” J had opened the car door and was standing over me. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, allowing me to admire and the tattoos that peaked out from underneath. Suddenly he snapped his fingers.

“Stay with me, kitten, you were saying something about shoes.” J grinned at me again and I had to look away to keep from melting. “Yeah, I can’t keep wearing these. I’m wearing the H you know?” He knelt down and started taking the shoes off of me. He slipped them into my tote bag and left my stocking covered feet shoeless.

“I’ll carry you.” J’s eyes were burning through me. I was slick between the legs and my breasts were swelling beneath my blouse. I was so enthralled by his gaze that I didn’t hear the texts buzzing in from Nikolai telling me that Falcone’s guy was at the airport and where the fuck was I because he was still looking for me.

#joker #leto joker #the joker #joker fanfiction #little red riding hood #mysterious #imposter #stockings #drugs #drug mule #wolf in sheep's clothing #revised

[katelides]

Walking on sunshine - Bechloe Mini Fic pt 9

The next morning arrives sooner than anyone would want. Chloe is sleeping on a bench at the airport where she had arrived the night before so she could leave Italy and let her sister finally have the wedding she deserves.

The PA system blasts a new announcement through the speakers; Last call for departure flight 2901 to Atlanta, immediately boarding at Gate 3.; startles Chloe to instantly wake up. The redhead looks over at the screen, still slightly disoriented from her sleep, feeling horrible, knowing she would not be able to make it in time.

Chloe hears a familiar voice and sits up straight to see where it’s coming from. “This plane… Onward… Whoa!” The young woman looks down in defeat when she sees Fat Amy being pushed in her direction by the 3 pilots that were at Maddie’s bachelorette party last night.

“Stop, stop. Doors to manual, emergency.” The blonde shouts and the three men instantly oblige. When Amy gets up one of the pilots tries to stop her. Amy shrugs her shoulders and says: “Ciao, bello.” (Bye, beautiful.) And leaves the three disappointed pilots behind to go check on her friend.

Chloe barely dares to look up, knowing that Fat Amy, as chaotic as she might be, is very loyal to other friends, and will not go down without a fight. The two look at each other for a solid minute, waiting for the other to start the conversation. 

Amy is the first one to break the silence. “You are in love with her.” She says with a heavy sigh, knowing that Chloe would push everything she knows and feels aside to make sure her sister is happy.

When Chloe breaks down in heavy sobs, the blonde let out a sigh. “Oh, C,…” She walks up to her and sits down, the redhead scotching over to give the blonde some more space.

“I've made a… small fortune writing books about love. I feel like I should have some wisdom to impart. All I can think is 50 different ways to say orgasm.” 

Chloe snorts at the funny moment of honesty coming from her friend. Knowing that the blade does not do serious conversations or real emotions.

With a heavy sigh, Amy turns to face her best friend and collects her thoughts, something she has never done before. “Everything I know about real love I’ve learned from you and Maddie. You know, you’ve got me through some really tough times, and I know you two have had it tougher than most. But we’ve always got through it together. We’ve always had each other, haven’t we?”

Chloe nods, looking Fat Aly straight in the eyes. The blonde was right, they had been through a lot together.

“When your mum dies… Maddie told me that what really broke her heart was that your mum would never be on your wedding day.” Amy continues. “You’ve done the hard part now. Don’t you wanna be there for her?”

Chloe thinks about it, sits ups straight, and wipes away her tears. She grabs her bag and puts it around her shoulder. “Well, how long have we got?” She asks with straight determination in her voice.

Fat Amy’s face breaks into a huge smile and looks down at her watch. The face of pure excitement turns to one of horror when she sees what time it is. “Shit!” She gets up and starts running towards the exit, with Chloe right behind her.

The two are running through the airport like two madwomen. Trying to get to a taxi as soon as possible. “Hey, little sister, what have you done?” Amy asks while they keep running, pointing any blame at the young girl.

Meanwhile, Maddie wakes up with a terrible hangover, clutching a picture of Beca in her hands. “Hey, little sister, who’s the only one?” She questions Beca’s picture. When she realises what time it is she jumps up in a panic, knowing she’s late… very late… to her own wedding.

Somewhere up in the dunes, a stripper in police uniform sits up. “Hey, little sister, who’s your superman?” He asks. 

Revealing a second stripper sitting up next to him, covered in kisses who says: “Hey, little sister, who’s the one you want?”

In between the two men, Titziana sits up with a smile almost as big as her face saying: “Hey, little sister, shotgun!” As she says that she pulls the two men into her boozems.

At the same time, Chloe and Amy are in a taxi on their way to the church. “It’s a nice day to start again,” Amy says while trying to zip up Chloe’s bridesmaid's dress. Chloe stares out of the back window, guilt still eating her alive.

At the church, people are slowly walking in, excitedly chatting about. “It’s a nice day for a white wedding.” You hear many whispers, as none know any of the drama that had ensued the previous night and morning.

“It’s a nice day to start again!” Maddie shouts as she burst into Chloe’s room, expecting to find her sister still sleeping, wanting to clear the air between them before the wedding. With a groan the brunette closes the door, not having the time to worry about her sister and needed to get dressed for the wedding. Her wedding.

So she runs to her best friend's room, only to find Fat Amy missing as well. “Hey, little sister… Who is it you’re with?” She asks herself, finding it very strange that both are missing at the same time.

Meanwhile, Beca is taped to a tree, naked for the world to see. “Hey, little sister!” She screams at two passing nuns who see her.

“What’s your vice or wish?” They ask concertedly. Beca just looks around and asks them to untie her so she can make it to her wedding.

Mike, Benji, and Jesse are running around the town, retracing all of their steps from last night as they have forgotten where they had left Beca and the wedding is about to start.

“Hey, little sister, shotgun…” Jesse groans, knowing he should have payed better attention to his little sister. 

Mikey’s eyes light up as she remembers where they had left the brunette and pulls his friends towards the location.

At the church Doug walks in with his designer sunglasses, smiling at the priest. “It’s a nice day for a…” The priest starts.

“…white wedding.” Doug finishes smugly.

Emily is standing in front of the church, passing nervously as no one had shown up yet. All of her friends are missing. She’s on the phone with someone, trying to figure out what is happening.

Unbeknownst to her, Jesse, Mike, and Benji are still looking for Beca. Beca is running around the town naked, trying to go unnoticed so she can get home and get dressed. Chloe and Fat Amy are still in the taxi on their way to the church. While Maddie is stranded at the side of the road, in her wedding dress, while here taxi driver is changing the spare tire.

“There you guys are!” Emily shouts when she sees her boyfriend, Mike and Jesse arrive at the church. “Where’s Beca? She asks when the brunette is not with them. The boys all shrug, not knowing the answer and all being out of breath.

Meanwhile, Beca had managed to get home and grab her suit and had started to run towards the church, to her wedding. Trying to find a way to explain to her fiancee why she’s late.

As if on queue, both Maddie’s and Chloe’s taxi arrive at the church. The second the car stops, Maddie is rushing out. Fat Amy instantly does the same, knowing that if Chloe gets to her sister first it could end in disaster.

“Where have you been?” Maddie asks, trying not to be angry at the pair.

“It’s all my fault.” Amy starts. “She had to stop me from performing an ill-advised aviation stunt, which is never a good idea after 12 sambas and a minestrone.”

Maddie rolls her eyes with a sigh, knowing that this ridiculous story has to be true… because who else would get into a situation like that? “You look beautiful. Just one sec.” The blonde says and walks away towards their friends, leaving Maddie and Chloe eye to eye.

The two sisters slowly walk up to each other with cautious smiles. Maddie sighing gently. 

“You look beautiful,” Chloe says sincerely, feeling happy that she had decided to come back with Fat Amy for her sister’s wedding. 

Maddie smiles for a brief second to then turn serious almost instantly. “Chloe, am I making a fool of myself again?” She asks, needing to know what her sister thought.

Chloe lets out an amused sigh, knowing she needs to convince her sister that everything will be just fine. “Beca’s not like anyone you’ve ever dated. She’s a keeper. You done good.” 

“Yeah?” The brunette asks just to double-check one last time. When she sees her little sister nod she continues. “And what about you? Are you… really okay with this?” She asks, still unsure after what had happened last night.

Chloe takes a deep breath, knowing that whatever she says next would set everything between them in stone for the rest of their lives. So the redhead decides to make a gesture instead. She takes off her mom’s necklace and puts it around her sister’s neck.

Maddie smiles gently and hands Chloe a small bridesmaids bouquet. “Come one.” She says, motioning towards the church. 

The redhead hesitates for a moment, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Maddie,” Chloe says loudly but not shouting. 

Maddie stops in her tracks and turns to face her sister again. 

“No matter what, you’ve never given up on love.” Chloe starts with tears in her eyes. “You followed your heart wherever it leads. That’s how I want be.”

Maddie playfully shoves her sister. “Christ, don’t make me cry now!” She says, trying to contain her tears with a sniff. “I know it’s out there for you. You just have to grab it when you see it, okay?” 

Chloe cannot contain her tears and a single big one rolls down her cheek. 

Maddie grunts when she sees Fat Amy walk towards her. “Oh, where’s your dress?” She asks, not wanting to start crying either and rather wants to distract herself with something else.

“Sorry..” The blonde apologises. “Er… it’s not the only thing that’s missing.” She says, trying to find a way to tell the bride that her bride is missing. 

Maddie and Chloe look at each other in confusion, and then back at the blonde. “Er…” Fat Amy continues.

In that moment both Fat Amy and Chloe see Beca running towards the church and slipping in chaotically yet still unnoticed to Maddie. With wide eyes Amy looks at Chloe and continues, trying to find a plausible lie. “ Er.. my thong has gone!” She shouts.

“What?” Maddie questions with a confused smile. “This is news?” She asks with a roll of her eyes. 

“Right. Are we ready?” Amy asks Emily who is still standing infant of the church in pure shock and confusion about the entire ordeal.

Emily puts her thumbs up, to say let's do this before anything else happens.

Inside the church, Mike and Benji try to make Beca look slightly more presentable. “You alright, ragazza (girl). You look a bit perduta (lost).” Mikey asks in concern. 

“No, I’m fine.” She says with determination, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself it’s the truth. “I was just running naked down the street missing my own wedding because some idiot left me duct-taped to a tree with a donkey.” She adds angrily.

“Ah, the donkey!” Mikey says to Benji, in a voice that suggests that they had completely forgotten they had done that to poor Beca, who is not amused.

Emily walks in and signals to the boys that the bride is ready to go.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca and chloe #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #walking on sunshine bechloe mini fic

[hollyhomburg]

Dream a little Dream of Me (KNJ)

Summary: Sometimes being in a long distance relationship isn’t so bad, other days Namjoon wakes up and misses you so bad he almost feels like it will summon into existence (and the one time it actually was) 

Word count: 9.3k

Tags: Long distance relationship au, Fluffy smut, Namjoon makes sweet (and slightly blasphemous) love to the reader, oral (M. + F. receiving), light spanking, mostly vanilla accept for the dirty talk, unprotected sex, cock warming, Namjoon is hung af and he has a bit of a size kink so he likes it. 

Song Rec: BTS – Home 

A/N: this one-shot was inspired heavily by the song Tokyo! I started writing it way back when mono first came out which is why it is set in the past! I hope you guys like it!

Waking up to you is Namjoon’s absolute favorite way to start the day. 

There are a few sublime moments- the skin of your fingers along his lips, the slight brush of conditioned hair, soft at the ends brushing his face and the shifting of a familiar weight across his lap as you sling your legs over his. the weight of your body and he feeling of your soft skin pressed against his that rouse him gently from sleep. He wakes up and groans, but keeps his eyes closed, a hand coming up to rub against your back as he steadies you where you sit across his lap, peppering kisses across his bare chest.

“Good morning sleepyhead, or should I say afternoon,” your lovely lilting voice says against the skin just below his jaw. Maybe today is a Saturday or a Sunday or a Monday, he could have work in an hour or in five minutes but that he is not going to get up from this spot no matter what, not for anything. He hums a hello against your lips. All he wants is to spend the rest of time wrapped up in your arms, eyes closed against the early morning sunlight, idyllic and all too yellow behind his eyelids. 

“Namjoon” you slur, sleepy, fingers running across his collarbones and making him shiver. He’s a little too cold for the warm summer light streaming through that window, his hands tighten on your warm body.  “Namjoon?” your voice strengthens deepening far lower than it should be, and then he’s knocked out of the dream ripped away from you by someone’s hands on his shoulders, larger and rougher, and definitely not his girlfriends. 

“Namjoon you need to wake up,” Seokjin says as Taehyung rips back the covers out of his hands, where he’s been clenching at them, waking up Namjoon with the cold draft of air. Namjoon sleepily opens his eyes, And he takes in not you, not his bedroom or yours on the other side of the world. No sunlight only cold Tokyo in the middle of winter. 

He’s still half asleep, hand still reaching out for someone who’s not even in this country let alone this side of the world. The lingering endorphins from the brief Sleep paralysis makes him feel like he’s still asleep before he crashes down to earth.  “Namjoon- oh my god- get up we have to go.”

“What?” Namjoon mumbles still reeling from sudden wakefulness. His legs and arms feel like pins and needles. Like he left them in the sunny morning with you halfway in-between the dream world and here. The crushing reality of a long distance relationship: that dream is the closest he’s going to get to you this month. 

Taehyung sighs, annoyed. “Wheels up on the jet in 50, we need to leave in ten and you’re still not packed” Namjoon curses and Tae starts piling his things into a suitcase with little regard for any order as Seokjin tosses him a pair of pants and his cosmetic bag that holds the stuff for his morning routine. 

“Why didn’t you try to wake me sooner?” Namjoon asks through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Jimin did,” Taehyung says helping their leader pack away his laptop, “you just wanted to sleep still” that’s right, he’d been up into the early hours of the morning working on his mixtape and that was the reason why he felt so out of sorts. There wasn’t another reason, the little bit of his chest that had tighten when he’d woken up again and found you not next to him, again, for the nth time this month, of course not. 

He checks his phone half a dozen times for a text message from you in-between the ride to the airport and takeoff, checking and double checking the time where you are. You’re still at work and your current workplace has a strict no phones rule. But his phone still feels heavy in his pocket even as their private jet readies for takeoff. His numbness lingering even as he gets on the plane and watches the ground falls out from underneath him. 

Most days, your long distance relationship was an unintended consequence of both of your busy lives. You both kept in contact as much as possible through your days. But times like this when Namjoon was on tour were extra difficult for both of you when the variance in his schedule made it impossible for you to fall into your usual routine of calls. He’d talked to you late last night of course, as you’d been waking up to go to work. 

Namjoon tried his best he really did, but sometimes, like today, the distance between your two cities got to him. He waits during the long plane flight anxious until he gets the chance to just talk to you again, not even see you. The jumpy feeling of wanting to sleep never quite leaves his bones during the flight. 

He steals himself just as they get off the plane back in Seoul at 11 am when you should be just getting out of work. He calls, and you don’t pick up, and he feels himself crumple further.  Fuck- he just- he really wanted to talk to you after last night, maybe tell you about his dream like he always did.  And he wanted to hear your teasing voice over the phone teasing him about having his head in the clouds, and then his rebuttal (a constant inside joke between you two) ‘good thing your head is up there too.’ 

Namjoon can’t wait to sleep as he watches Seoul creep by in the car, caught in morning traffic, unable to find rest in the constant jostling. Next to him Jimin clicks away on his phone rapidly turned away from Namjoon. Though he does send the elder glances every few minutes. “Are you okay Joon?” Jimin asks, setting his phone protectively in his pocket.

“Yeah I’m alright,” Namjoon won't bother trying to explain to Jimin about missing you. Jimin doesn’t have a girlfriend, only a few long-distance hookups like the rest of the boys (besides Jin whose girl was waiting for him back at the apartment complex, their apartment right next to the dorm). But Jimin gives him a sympathetic glance regardless, ever the empath. All of the boys know how much Namjoon misses you on the daily, have long since stopped teasing him whenever he looks at his phone, smiles at his phone, or insists on calling you the second they get back from a performance to update you on how it went.

“Do you miss her? When I came you’re your room earlier you were saying her name.” 

Namjoon flushes at that but nods, unashamed of his love for you even if it is a little embarrassing. “I miss her every second, and I guess even in my dreams too” he chuckles uncomfortably and scratches at the back of his neck. The words are so true that the dreg up this offal crushing bitterness in his chest. It’s strange, the cloying feeling of homesickness even as he’s just gotten to the city he’s lived in for most of his life. 

“Aren’t you going to go visit her soon? Do you have any trips planned?” Jimin types out a message on his phone after he asks the driver how much longer it will be until they get home. 

Namjoon shakes his head, “no not yet, her current assignment is a little more demanding than her last and she doesn’t finish out her contract until the end of the month.” 

He checks his phone again to see if you’ve gotten out of work, finding nothing, decides that you must have decided to work late again. He sends a quick text reminding you to grab some dinner and take care of yourself and ignores the texts from his family asking him over for dinner tomorrow night. Shoving away the bitter frustration budding in his chest. 

At least he’ll have time to sleep over the next few days, they have the next 2 weeks off, a rare stretch of free time that Namjoon was fully intending on using to relax.  Maybe after the first few days, he could do some more work and finally finish his mixtape. Hopefully, this bad day won’t just be another in a string of them like they are sometimes.

He can hope, but things look bleak as they return to their dorm and Namjoon feels no excitement or joy at being back. They unload the vans of their luggage that's a little dinged from the tour. Dome of the staff stays to help- but there isn’t all that much to unload. 

Namjoon checks his phone again on the way up the steps and inside the apartment, missing the suspicious looks that Jimin and the others cast his way as he gets closer and closer to his room. Jimin hovers in particular, Taehyung almost says something and Hoseok barely stifling an excited anticipatory laugh. Jimin signals to him behind Namjoons back with a murderous look to stay quiet or else. He opens his door still looking at his phone, it not bothering to look up.  

“What are you doing Joon?” you ask

“Just trying to text you” and then he does a double take, not believing his eyes because you’re standing there, wearing a shit-eating grin on your face, definitely not on the other side of the world. His phone slides out of his hands and thuds face down on his bedroom floor as you give a guilty grin and have the Gaul to say, “Surprise?” 

He shouts your name, suddenly more awake than he’s been all month. Stumbling forward into your arms on unsteady legs, he picks you up and spins you around. You yelp at the sudden feeling of weightlessness gripping his shoulders. Your strong boyfriend who doesn’t know his own strength especially when he’s excited,  crushing you to his chest and lifting you like you’re a paperweight.

“Oh my god! How are you here!?“ he says, suddenly overwhelmed as he breathes in a deep breath and gets all of you, the smell of your favorite vanilla and flower perfume and the conflicting scent of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed up against his this time real. He sets you down but doesn’t let go, pulling away so that he can kiss you, thankful and happy and smiling wider than he has all week. Feeling your lips slot together with his like two puzzle pieces finding their spot. 

He’s barely aware of the others by the door, disappearing after giving Jimin a high five for pulling off the surprise, shouting hello to you before they disappear and give you your privacy, not that you’re paying attention to anything other than Namjoon. 

And oh, Namjoon almost melts at the taste of you, his arms squeezing you need to reaffirm that you actually are here. That this isn’t just another dream. That he wasn’t going to wake up on the plane and be alone again. It’s so much better than any dream, lucid or otherwise that he could have, suddenly has him feeling all kinds of fragile under your hands. 

He doesn’t realize- until he pulls away from the kiss, keeping your foreheads pressed together, breathing out a light relieved laugh- that he’s actually crying. Happy tears tickle his cheeks and his dimples as your hands run through his hair, smoothing over his shoulders that have relaxed incrementally from the tight frustration he felt earlier. 

Your eyes aren’t dry either “Oh Joonie” you say, the same second he bites his lips, trying to keep the tiny happy sob from welling up, blinking away tears even as he feels them slipping over his cheeks to linger in his dimples. 

“I missed you so much baby,” he says, nuzzling his nose in yours with an Eskimo kiss, “so fucking much-“ the next words running over his tongue in a flash, “when did you get in? How long are you going to stay? If you had told me you’d be here for work then I would have-“ 

Even as he rambles, assuming that you’re here as part of your current assignment all he thinks is please, let it be for a few more days, let it be for a week. Even though he knew that you leaving would be so much harder, having you here always reminded him of what he was missing but he never cared, never minded one bit even as it got harder and harder to part with you. 

“Two weeks,” you say with a smile (not that it’s dropped at all since he walked through his bedroom door). 

He freezes, “you’re kidding!” you’ve never stayed for more than 10 days at a time, you’ve never spent that long in each other's arms and now-now Namjoon is going to have a full uninterrupted fourteen days with you and he won't even have to work! He could glow with how excited and happy he is. 

Jimin leans against the doorway, his facemask pulled down around his neck,  “Glad you got in okay Y/n”  you grin at Jimin, suddenly Namjoon remembers the way he was hiding his phone in the car, “oh you little sneak-“ Namjoon starts to curse, still smiling. 

“I had to have one of them give me the key code” at the same moment Jimin says, ever the bratt “-come on if you’re not going to use these two weeks off to the fullest you’d have a literal meltdown” with a roll of his eyes. 

Jimin is kind enough to close the door on the way out, giving you your privacy, You’ll say hello to the others in a minute, or maybe a few hours, or maybe tomorrow, He closes the door, lumbering over keeping you by his side; his hands come up to cup your cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re here” 

He kisses you slowly on either side of your cheeks, then your nose, then finally when you’re practically leaning up on your tippy toes- your lips. His hands squeezing your hips running up and down your sides, pressing kiss after kiss there, even as they shift from thankful and sweet to more heavy. 

You suck his lower lip as he groans into your mouth. His hands find the spot between your ass and your legs, hefting you up to wrap them around his waist before he walks you over to the bed, still kissing you and sets you down. Pressing forward even as you do to kiss you into the sheets until you’re dizzy and panting with it. His hands hungry and searching under your shirt as you pull him closer by his belt buckle. 

When he finally parts from your lips he’s panting, your chest heaving unevenly too, he rests his forehead against your collarbone kissing your sternum as he pulls up your shirt.

 4 months- it’s been 4 months since you’ve been pressed to each other in your most basic forms since you’ve been at your most intimate and since you’ve last made love. And you’re loathed to be denied that another minute now that you’re in each other's arms. Namjoon needs you like he needs air right now, is almost shaking with the way your core is pressed up against his. His hands just can’t get enough of you as he squeezes and strokes and exults in the simple pleasure that your body brings him. 

“I wish I’d had time to book us a hotel and everyone’s here- but fuck, I need you,” He says in between your peppered sweet kisses. Pressing another kiss along his jaw, sucking a little then harder when he urges you with a hand running through your hair. 

It’s not often that you both get to be so sloppy with your loving, usually, you have to be so careful to be gentle not to tempt a single bruise, but now you can bite and mark as much as you want. Any hickeys won't matter and will be healed by the time he has to go in front of a camera.

 Namjoon almost wants to sigh with the release of it.  his neck is sensitive, his shoulders and his chest too as you suck along his collar “I can be quiet,” you murmur looking up at Namjoon with sultry eyes that make lust spark in his gut. 

Pulling away though, half laughing at your words, unable to not grin at them because if they’re one thing you’re not it’s quiet. “Baby that’s a lie- you can never be quiet” he purrs, as if to prove his point, he rolls his hips forward languidly, letting you feel the length of him through his jeans already hard. The action makes you yelp and groan, the feeling so deliciously welcome after so many months apart. 

“Should I gag you like we did that one time in Paris? Or can you be good for me?” he punctuates this with another hard roll of his hips, teasing you even though you’re already worked up enough, he’s so hard in his jeans it’s almost painful. You and Namjoon get up to kinky shit just as often as any other couple, but despite his words, right now he wants to hear and savor you. 

“The shower!” you almost moan gripping onto the front of Namjoon’s shirt like you couldn’t bear to be parted with it, “they might not be able to hear us in the shower,” Namjoon and you scramble off of his bed. He catches glimpses of your smile when you shuck off your shirt making him blush and he feels like a teenager again, about to lose it for the first time. 

He shoves off his shyness and sits on the toilet as you turn the water on, waiting for it to get warm, Namjoon tugs you closer in-between his legs, now that he can see all of you run his hands over your back and your ass, over the swell there and feel that weight in his hands, your body hasn’t changed much over the last few months. 

Every time you leave, Namjoon is worried that you’re going to change a little, and that slowly that change will add up and suddenly one day he won’t love you as much, or more likely, you don't love him anymore. But having you in front of him always makes him realize how stupid it was to think that for a second. It was always going to be like this with you. 

You’re a little unnerved to be so bare before him, struggling against shyness he not cross your arms over your chest as your hair spills around your face, when you finally slip your underwear off to join the rest of your clothes on the floor. the sudden ravenous heat died down and tenderness taking its place. 

Hand hands tease your ass, spanking once twice, just to see you inhale sharply. he imagines the pink peeking under your skin and wants to make you flush red with love for him. 

Namjoon is nearly breathless with how beautiful you look to him, how perfect you are in his bathroom after you both just took flights, and probably look less than your best; he’s aching with it all up and down his chest, the affection growing like flowers carefully nurtured by your love and blossoming further within him.

“God, I love you,” he says between the kisses he peppers kissing down your stomach stopping to reach the top of your mound, “there isn’t an inch of you I don’t love.” 

“Good to know you view me as a god, love you too” your smirk is cocky, and god, it makes Namjoon want to wreck you. You add as an afterthought even though it’s anything but. Even if it’s playfulness the words are heavy, and Namjoon would never stop for a moment to wonder if you meant it. he knows you love him, feels it in every fiber of his being. 

Namjoon makes you swallow that teasing retort by standing gripping you under your thighs and surging upwards to set you on the bathroom counter next to the sink, he pulls you forward roughly, manhandling your legs and squeezing your calves with his hands. 

As a firm atheist Namjoon has always found eating you out to be a religious experience. You’re his love after all, and your body- your being is the only thing that’s ever captivated him like this. 

He takes to you like a sinner would to prayer, and gets on his knees to worship you.

The glistening stain of your arousal turns the tops of your things sticky, he runs his thumbs through it and drags them to his mouth, keeping eye contact with you even as you shiver when he makes a contented hungry noise in the back of his throat at the taste of you.

Namjoon finds himself lapping up every little bit of it too eager to be quite as gentle and as careful as he usually is with you sucking roughly on your clit. The taste of you is ingrained in his memory and makes him slowly lose all composure as he half growls-half groans against your core. Fuck, he forgot quite how good it was, how the heady sweetness of your sex made him ravenous, he holds down your hips to the edge of the sink, looking up to see your lips parted and bitten, eyes glassy in the way that you get when you get drunk on pleasure.  

Your moans are strangled behind a hand in an effort to be somewhat quiet but Namjoon doesn't care anymore let them hear. He reaches up pin it back to the counter and laces it with his own, squeezing softly.

Namjoon feels your entrance flutter around his lips as you whimper, and he rocks his hips searching for friction as you thread your other hand through his hair instead of gripping the edge of the marble counter for support, like you need to anchor yourself against the onslaught of Namjoon’s tongue and sumptuous mouth at your core. 

After so many months of missing his touch, you’re so sensitive, your legs shaking as he licks broad strokes up and down your core, suckling teasingly on your lips and your clit alternating to really get you shaking. Your entrance flutters around his fingers when he slips just the tips in, teasing around your more sensitive opening rather than dip inside just yet. 

Despite the fact that he wants you so bad he might just cum in his pants (and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d cum while eating you out) he feels the need to savor you, to drink you down slowly and carefully orchestrate your breaking as slowly and as lovingly as possible. He feels your entrance trembling to be filled and as if in answer his hard cock jumps, dripping precum onto the tile floor. 

But you tug on his hair when he teases too long, whining into the open air, “please Namjoon- please” he leans back for a second, looking up at how wrecked you are already.  Your chest heaving now nipples pink in the steamy air and inviting him to suck at them, your leg trembling in the wake of your oncoming orgasm. 

“Anything for you baby,” Namjoon lays his palms over your stomach, grabbing onto your hand that’s on the counter and lacing his fingers with yours as he begins to lick in nice even patterns, broad strokes all the way with a firm pressure just how you like to fall apart, never does he take his eyes off of you. Maintaining eye contact to see your lips fall open in a ragged moan.  

When you cum, your entrance clenches so hard that it lets little drips out that Namjoon licks up greedily, even as your hips kick up to get away from the overstimulation. And you plead by use of his name over and over again, though even you’re not sure if you’re asking for more or for him to stop at this point. 

Namjoon grins and sucks a slight hickey into the top of your thighs letting your chest heave and you cool down, “fuck Namjoon- fuck” you say breathless as leaving his mark on you before he stands, knees a little weak from kneeling for so long, and tugs you off of the counter though you stumble into his arms for an entirely different reason. Namjoon feels pride at making you able to fall apart like this, to the point where you can’t even stand without his arms around you, legs turned to jelly in the wake of the pleasure he and only he can give you. 

And suddenly the shower seems like a bad idea, a very potentially hospital visit inducing idea. Neither of you are very coordinated as is, both of you seem to reach the same conclusion at the same time 

“Shit should we-“ he says the same moment you prompt “bath?” and he laughs because of course, you would be on the same page- and it’s not like Namjoon’s corner bath isn’t comfortable and large enough for two or even three people. and deep with jets to massage out muscles (one of the perks of living in an expensive apartment was that all of the amenities were heavenly). 

You kiss lazily as the bath fills with water, the fire in your gut cooled, while Namjoon’s is still burning- even then, he almost enjoys kissing you enough that he’ll ignore the weight of his erection between the two of you pressed to your soft thigh. His generous length that you’ve surely missed along with the rest of him. Your hand soothes up and over his thigh from where he sits on the edge of his tub, brushing over the tip of his cock with teasing fingers making his hips jump as you tighten your grip and pump him slowly. 

Relaxing back onto your knees between his legs, kissing his thighs And leaving hickeys there as you pump him. You might have a thing for his thighs, for their thickness the same way he has a thing for your ass.  he smiles as you stroke him and pepper kisses up to his length, teasing him because he likes to be teased just as much if not more than you do.

He tries not to feel a little bit prideful of how small your mouth looks compared to his length, how it looks like he shouldn’t be able to fit in your mouth and how he knows you can. He remembers the first time you’d seen it, uttering out a ‘that’s going to break me’ and immediately setting out to see if it would with a determination that had made Namjoon cum hard. You might be a tiny bit of a size queen and it might make Namjoon a little bit smug. 

“I missed you so much Joonie” you repeat against his skin, looking up at him with the little glowing smile, “Did you think about me getting on my knees for you when you where in all of those hotel rooms? Was that how you got yourself off thinking of my mouth?” you whisper the words against his head, lips brushing his slit and wetting with precum before you lick your lips, humming at the taste then leaving your tongue his length teasingly making his thighs twitch and shake just like he made yours. 

“You know I did” god you’re- you’re his everything, no one can make him come undone like this, so delicately- so teasingly, as you stare up at him, knowing he has a thing for eye contact when you’re blowing him as you take him as far as you can lips stretched around his widest part. And Namjoon can’t look away, at the same moment, he feels the warm water tickling at his hand and realizes the tub is filled. 

He groans pulling you off of him by your hair no matter how much it kills him. “we’ll have time for that later- I need to be in you right now so bad baby girl” you smile positively feline as you see how broken down he was by just a taste of what you can give him. He holds your hand for support as you step into the tub and sink into the water, Polite and gentlemanly even as he aches to wreck you again. 

You and Namjoon are like that, the push and pull equal, tenderness and passion in equal measure too. But now he wants all control and you let him take it as he manhandles you into position.  The water around you is warm and calming even as Namjoon turns you around and presses you close to one of the jets, the water thumbing a delicious pressure right along your oversensitive clit, your hips jerk but Namjoon’s hands are there on your hips holding you. 

“Stay just there for me love, no moving” you’re panting even as Namjoon pushes on the small of your back to lowers you onto your elbows on the edge of the tub. Pressing soothing kisses down your spine as his generous length prods at your entrance. He presses a kiss along your shoulder before he begins to slide in. The stretch making you shout a moan that sounds suspiciously like his name. Inch after inch stretching you out deliciously until you feel so full with him you're shaking with sensitivity.

He thrusts completely in, slowly exulting in the delicious heat of you the feeling of rightness and completeness settling all over him. The tightness after so many months of having nothing inside of you makes you crazy and hazy and numb to Everything but Namjoon. His head hitting the spot inside you that makes wetness flood around him, his lips peppering kisses along your shoulders, his hands cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples gently with his fingers. 

Your insides spasm around him as the water jet wreaks havoc on your front, he gives you as long as you need to adjust before you’re reaching back and tugging on his hips, hands shaking along with the rest of you as you moan out “please Namjoon- please move I need- need you” you’re hiccupping with how worked up you are, and of course, Namjoon is never one to deny his baby what she needs when she asks so nicely. 

He sets a brutal pace each one of his thrusts sending you further and further towards the edge, “fuck you were made for me baby” he groans out as he keeps the pace, thank god for his stamina honestly because he could fuck you like this for hours, has fucked you for hours. 

His hands dig into your hips to the point where he knows you’ll have bruises afterward as he leans forward and lavishes kisses all up and down your neck. You cum like that, him roughly thrusting in and out of you, your clit almost numb from the pleasure assaulting you. 

He gives you no respite, even as you shake with overstimulation, whining and groaning and moaning, all thoughts of being quiet for the others completely forgotten. If anything your moans just seem to spur Namjoon on more, and the wet sound of your arousal joins the sound of your moans echoing off the bathroom walls. He gives your ass a slap, watching it jiggle in the water, watching his length sink inside of you. 

It’s been so long, now that he finally has you on him he knows he won’t last long, he slows, trying to savor you before he pulls you up, sitting back, he kisses you even as it kills him to pull out of your twitching heat, turning your blissed out and ropey body around to have access lips hungry and sloppy against yours. You look up at him, cheeks flushed, more love in your gaze than words could say. 

You’re both so fucked out already, Namjoon’s dick almost hurts from how much he wants to cum, hard and purple and twitching with want against your stomach. But he wants to do it differently than that, wants to see you face when he cums. He sits back on his heels, “come on baby, sit on top of me,” he tugs your hips around him, supporting your shaking muscles with your hands on his shoulders to lower yourself over him, hissing a little at the lingering sensitivity and what will surely be soreness tomorrow.

He kisses at your neck as he starts to fuck up into you his hands around your waist to guide the movement of your hips. In this position he can touch you and kiss at your chest, thumbing along your nipple and groan into your chest to try and soften the noise when he finally cums. Signing your name in a hapless stream as his hips stutter while he rides out his orgasm, painting your walls with his cum. The glide suddenly wetter, your core tightening around him as the satisfaction fills you.  

And just like that his kisses turn lazy and loving instead of hungry, lips drunkenly moving against yours as he holds you in the warm bubly water, blood rushing in his ears, love tugging at his chest, as the slightly wet tips of your hair tickle his skin and your run your fingers through his hair.

You’re still connected, he barely softens inside of you still hard and aching for more. But instead of pulling you off of him he just rests there for a second, and you’re comfortable too to feel his length stretching you open for a few minutes longer. The intimacies of the action as you’re both as physically as close as you can be without being one and lingering in that closeness after so many months of distance. Your warm wetness tight around him makes him relax further. 

“I missed you my love” he utters against your skin, eyes fluttering, suddenly sleepy even though honestly he could go another round, looking up at you with this doe-eyed happy expression undisturbed by doubt. 

You cup his cheeks, running your thumbs over his dimples. Leaning forward to kiss them, making him chuckle, “I did too Joonie,” you murmur pulling away a little, “lets shower and get into bed yeah? You must still be tired” 

He is tired enough that he lets you wash his hair sleepily closes his eyes as you run a soapy cloth over his back. He leans into the affection, resigned to the fact that you’re determined to take care of him even though he would have settled for just a rinse under the shower. 

He stumbles when you lead him back into his bedroom, neither of you bothering to put clothes on as you sink underneath the covers and hold each other close, chest to chest. he rubs shapes into your back with his thumbs, and quietly, reverently, just watches as you fall asleep until he joins you, content and feeling suddenly at home in your arms.  

When he wakes, he’s not surprised to find it dark outside- the time change and your nap probably fucked up both of your sleep schedules to the point where you’re both going to be sleeping weird hours for a little while. Your warmth next to him makes the bed at just the right temperature as the cold from outside presses in with hungry fingers. 

He looks down at you nestled in the side of his chest his arm around you. Your eyes closed cheek squished against his skin looking absolutely adorable. He tilts his head to press a kiss against your forehead sleepily, running his hand up and down your back. He’s unable to stop looking at you, seeing you like this, always reminds him of the first time he ever saw you:

To say that Namjoon stayed late at the studio often back then would have been a gracious understatement. It was a rare day if he left before 2 am, even rarer if he didn’t just straight up decide to sleep on the couch in the corner of his studio and wake up when he’d gotten the bare minimum.  It wasn’t like it was uncomfortable; just easier than going all the way back to the dorm to sleep. The others were equally as bad, Yoongi and Hoseok especially. But to Namjoon, the reliance on work was different. If he spends all of his time working then he had less time to confront the empty side of his bed, how his body itched with wanting at the thought of warm arms around him. 

In short, Kim Namjoon was very very lonely. 

The night he meets you, Yoongi comes to his door nearing 4 am.  Leaning in the doorway until Namjoon pushes back from his desk and decides that yes, he’s had enough of work today. “Did you finish the collab track?” he asks hushed as he gathers his things. Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat. No then. Namjoon could understand his frustration. Today the lyrics just weren’t coming out right; the right wording somehow escaping him even though he could taste it on his tongue and just a hair out of reach. 

Namjoon pulls on his jacket when he’s ready and not his new knit cardigan, they won’t be outside for long anyway, and Yoongi will probably turn the heat up in the car to the point Namjoon sweats, Yoongi likes it warm. 

The agency building is nearly empty at this hour save for the janitors, they hush thank you’s and bow as they pass, the glass rooms are all dark save for one that they have to pass through, and empty, except for one person leaning over a desk slumped with exhaustion completely asleep and still accept for her measured breathing. 

Namjoon and Yoongi both watch as they pass to see if the stranger is awake, neither of them recognizes the foreign woman slumped over the pile of papers.

Namjoon pauses at the door, “who’s she?” he asks, because he’s certain he’s never seen her around before or he would have introduced himself. She’s pretty, with simple features but thick lashes, striking even if she has a little drool on her pillowed cheek, which will probably stick to the paper when she finally wakes. 

“I’m not sure, though one of the managers said something about a consultant arriving this week from overseas that they’re hiring to deal with HR and the new American staff, this must be her.” 

Namjoon nods, it makes sense why you would be here, and why you would be sleeping here- he’s been a victim of jetlag enough times to know you get whatever sleep you can get when you can get it. His heart swells with sympathy, and he pauses even while his companion keeps walking. 

Yoongi turns back to raise an eyebrow. “Joon?” he prods. Namjoon steals himself when he sees you shiver to toss his spare cardigan over your shoulders and shutting off the desk light before he joins Yoongi. Satisfied when he glances back to see you relax further into the desk in the warmth of the thick cardigan in the chilly office. 

“I’ll get it back at one point.” He says in response to Yoongi’s knowing smirk. Namjoon is too tired to blush. 

You don’t see each other again until a few days later in a meeting you smile when you see him and Namjoon trips over the doorway as his manager introduces you to the boys. The conversation is mostly banal, save for your surprising fluency in Korean, which earns you compliments from more than one of them. Yoongi shoots Namjoon a devious smile and prompts, “now Namjoon will finally have someone to practice English with.” 

Namjoon blushes and hits Yoongi on the arm. Later, you find Namjoon’s office, shy in the doorway as he rubs the back of his neck, “Mister min told me that this was yours after he saw it folded over my desk, thank you for leaving It for me the other night.” 

Namjoon takes it from you, he can tell you washed it- he has the urge to lift it to his nose and breath in deep, probably get a sense of what you smell like. He hopes you don’t notice his blush. “It gets pretty cold here sometimes they forget to turn off the ac in the winter” he justifies, fingering it in his hands before he gives it back to you, “you can keep it for the office in case you get cold again.” 

“Namjoon-ssi Its designer I really can’t,” 

“Consider it a welcome present then,” his dimpled smile puts you at ease. You start to practice English with Namjoon most afternoons that he’s there, slipping into Korean effortlessly and explaining to him why what he said was a little off. 

Conversations over work turn into hours spent over coffee or food when the only time he can spare for a conversation is over dinner, which becomes a habit and- are these dates if you barely talk about work? if he feels like himself when he’s around you to the point where it recharges him instead of drains?

 You always protest when Namjoon pays- and he reassures you with a hand on yours- anything Namjoon can do to repay your kindness and your hard work he says, though at this point he’ll make any excuse to get more minutes with you. 

He even offers you the cot in his studio when you want it at one point- working late. To which you tease, “maybe I’ll sleep there just so you offer me your sweaters, I could have a whole collection by the end of the month” your wink makes him blush harder than he ever has and stumble over his words. You’re the only one who can make him so disarmed like this, fumbling in Korean or English, no matter the language Namjoon feels like he can never find the right words to quite flirting how he wants.  

He can’t even imagine how terrible his concentration would be if you wore his sweaters even more often than you already do, you look so small drowned in it, having to fold the sleeves over a few times to stick out your hands. the others notice his fixation- teasing him about it by stopping by his studio and warning, “better not try to get any work done today Joon” with a wink or a teasing “off to another English lesson?” 

But of course it had to end somehow, your contract was only for 4 months after all. 

Namjoon knew that this was your livelihood- switching cities every few months and switching companies to help them rearticulate after overseas expansion. Namjoon has asked you more than a few questions about your mobile lifestyle in the past after he’d learned that the most you’d ever stayed in one place after college was 6 months.

“I’ve never liked a city enough to make me stay,” you said the first time he asked you why you moved around so much- even when the companies would offer you permanent positions.

And in the last week before you leave to head to your next job- you express the opposite when you end up walking back from an early morning coffee with Namjoon. Your hands brushing between the two of you as you walk. Pausing in the street to watch the light fade, a thick scarf wound around his neck. “It’s going to be hard to leave Seoul,” you said, eyes flickering to Namjoon. 

In a moment of braveness, he takes your hand and squeezes, brings it up to his face to set the back against his cheek. and feeling like he’s almost going to cry, says “it’s going to be hard to watch you go.” barely tempting the words into the morning light for the fear of the damage and hurt they would cause both of you.  

The last time Namjoon sees you he can’t swallow down the lump in his throat. You try to give him back the sweater that he gave you the first time he saw you. But he pushes it back into your hands, smiling even as he’s barely able not to cry. because even with all this pain- he’s better for having known you.  “please, just take it to remember me by, I’d love it if you wore it and thought of me when you’re in New York.” 

He’d tried to forget you when you’d left knowing it would be better for him if he did. Less heartbreak even if the weight of all of the almost he had with you drag on his shoulders as he hops from city to city on tour. He tries to concentrate on work instead of your social media feed, tries not to text you and fails on the daily. 

And then a reprieve, they’re invited to do an award show in New York and Namjoon is quick to text you and tell you their plans and ask if you’d like to grab dinner afterward even if it will be 1 am by the time they get out, and you agree. 

after all these months, you’ve never expressed your feelings beyond an ‘i miss you’ but when you see each other again those feelings boil over into actions. 

He meets you on the street corner in new york city after it’s rained, the light hanging all hazy and bleeding into you, you look the same as you do. He shouldn’t be surprised to find that you’ve kept his cardigan or to find you wrapped in it looking small and delicate under your red umbrella. smiling up at him. 

And he’d been uncaring about who might be watching, pulled down his facemask and kissed you, shocked for a second before the umbrella was discarded so that both your hands could fist in his baggy sweatshirt, and you’d kissed him back like you missed his lips ravenously no matter that it was your first kiss. 

You’d never made it to the restaurant that he’d planned on taking you to the reservation unused. instead, you’d gone back to your apartment, and the rest had been history. 

He remembers that night, the first night he’d gotten to see you like this, curled up next to him hand over his chest to feel his heartbeat, he remembers feeling just as lucky as he feels in this instant. He remembered that he’d hoped beyond hope that your whispered confession of love against his lips earlier were true. That this love would last and that you’d both be able to handle the distance. 

It had, and though it had been hard there was nothing more satisfying or rewarding than waking up to you like this. 

You start to stir gently in his arms and he kisses you on your shoulders, trailing his lips up your neck, by the time he gets to your cheek your eyelashes are fluttering. You make a happy noise in your throat, blinking away sleep and smiling when he’s the first thing you see. 

God, Namjoon wouldn’t trade this for anything. He can barely believe you’re actually here. Was it just yesterday morning when he’d woken up after dreaming of you? Well this, the real thing- was so much better than any dream. it’s too early to really be awake, but you’ve both been asleep for more than 12 hours at this point. 

“Wanna make coffee and watch the sunrise?” he asks you, sleepily you nod against him, and he separates himself to go put the coffee pot on. At first, he’s planning on bringing it to you in bed,  but then you appear wearing one of his large grey shirts and the comforter cover around your shoulders. Your hair dried funny after the shower you shared last night, curling on one side and straight on the other, endearingly imperfect as only you can be. 

You exchange sleepy gentle kisses against the counter while you wait for the coffee to finish. The coffee pot beeps somewhere in between when you start deepening the kiss and he keeps Running his hands up and down your back, tempted to go for another round. 

And then it’s out to the balcony carrying the blanket that Namjoon tosses over you after you crawl up the lawn chair, it’s not exactly comfortable or warm.  As the sky gradually starts to lighten you curl up around Namjoon, running your fingers through his hair and commenting on the new color, careful to be quiet and hushed when you know the other’s rooms are on either side of you.  

Namjoon’s glad you made the choice to come out instead of going back to bed in search of more carnal pleasures. The steam rising from the coffee cup clutched in your hands, sharing sips- because of course, you’re the couple to share one cup of coffee in the morning. 

“God you have a good view,” you say after a sip and hand the mug back to him from this position you can see every inch of Seoul slowly turning from steel grey to honey gold. 

“Any view with you in it is a good view” you make a dismayed noise, slapping his arm lightly.  

“Don’t be cheesy,” but you mollify him with a kiss to the underside of his jaw, feeling the little bit of stubble there rough against your lips.

“Can’t help it, you make me like this” he grins. Holding you a little tighter, thumbing the curve of your elbow, “I wish it could be like this all of the time” You’re quiet, silent, and Namjoon tries to catch your eye over the lid of the coffee cup. 

You bite your lip, and he’s sure something’s wrong, how many times had he said something like this and you’d replied, ‘I do too Joonie’ but now, you’re uncharacteristically quiet and a little stiff in his lap. After a pregnant moment, your eyes flicker up to meet his. 

“What if it was?” 

He straightens, suddenly awake, “what do you mean?” your next words come out in a rush turning to look at him as they spill from your mouth, holding his hand firmly in yours. 

“I didn’t want to tell you- not until I knew it was actually happening- because I didn’t want to get your hopes up but, you’re not the only reason why I came to Seoul.” Namjoon quirks his eyebrows, his hand busies its self with rubbing at the skin against your back. Waiting, expectant and hopeful, he urges you to continue with a nod of his head, eyes wide.    

“I got a job offer,” you breath out “for a company here in Seoul- a permanent position” Namjoon pulls back abruptly. Staring up at you incredulously. “You’re joking!” he says in disbelief. But if the quirk of your lips as you try not to smile too widely has anything to say- you’re not lying. 

Which means… which means you don’t have to be in a long distance relationship anymore. 

Which means Namjoon can wake up to you in the morning many more days of the year that he had previously. And he can have all of the domestic fantasies that you’d confessed over the phone. Getting to ride bikes along the river together. Having coffee in the morning every day. Fuck he’d even settle for something as mundane as folding fucking laundry because with you everything was amazing.  

Namjoon hops up from the chair and hops up and down when he realizes it, wrapping you to his chest after a moment, nearly tackling you into the lawn chair and pulling you back into his lap.  “Oh my god- this is the best surprise, like ever- I can’t believe you hid this- you’re so, you’re so ugh” Namjoon punctuates the last frustrated words of excitement with a kiss to your mouth that shocks a giggle out of you. 

“That’s amazing news- I can’t wait until you can live here and we’ll be able to see each other every day.” 

“I didn’t mean to spring this on you at all or assume anything. This doesn’t mean that we have to like- get an apartment together or anything but-“ 

“Wait,” Namjoon says, leaning out of your arms for a second, “do you not want to live with me? Do you not want to move in?” 

“No of course not- I just didn’t know if you would want me too, I didn’t know if we were there yet is all and-“  but Namjoon’s already tugging you back inside, giddy like a kid on Christmas. Instead of explaining he knows exactly what will put your mind at ease. 

“I wanna show you something,” he murmurs, knowing that it will be enough of an explanation.  Because for all your secrets and scheming and surprises, Namjoon is just as good at planning as you are. 

Dimples peaking out as he leads you through the dark apartment loud in his excitement. he leads you back into his bedroom, still, a whirlwind from yesterday. his suitcase is pried Open like a clam with clothes sticking out of it. Yours are too, everything is scattered nothing organized in true Namjoon fashion. 

He gets the small bag out of the pocket where it’s lived for the past month, handing it over to you trying not to look too nervous. his hand hovers on yours the bag in between both of your hands “don’t- don’t open it when you see it, i mean- obviously look in the bag but-” you quirk your eyebrow at his stuttering and he makes a frustrated noise before he hands it over. But his hands still shake; before you open it you reach up to smooth out the wrinkle between his eyebrows. A loving action. You’re puzzled at what it could be- it’s surprisingly heavy in your hands. 

You tear out the black wrapping paper to get at the small heavy thing in the bottom “You didn’t need to get me anything- you know you already sent me like an entire wardrobe from France right? And chocolate from Belgium that I ate in like half a second.” 

“It’s not-” Namjoon just laughs, nudging your shoulder with his nose “just open it already before I die of anticipation” Namjoon sits on the edge of his bed and ignores the urge to get down on one knee- because this isn’t that- not yet anyway. His leg jumping in anxiety a little, Instead of pulling you closer by your hips to sit pressed against his. resting his chin on your shoulder to watch your expression dawn from confusion to shocked surprise. 

“Kim Namjoon!” you shout when you pull out the heart-shaped velvet box- you won’t open it, not yet, because if this is what you think it is then you understand what Namjoon meant about not opening it yet. “you did not buy me a goddamn ring!” 

“I might have” he winks, “I picked it out from an antique shop, I really wanted to do this with more intention-but” Namjoon hums as he runs a finger along your chin tilting your face up to meet his. “I’m serious about you, I’m serious about this, living together- everything. Now you know- even if I’m not going to ask you just yet,” his smile shifts into the teasing air you often have in your relationship. “not until I can surprise you with it of course” you look at him, cup his cheek and gulp before you hand him the velvet box back with a shaking hand, not even asking to see inside even if curiosity is blooming in your- curiosity and incredulity and joy- and Namjoon hasn’t even officially proposed yet and you're already bouncing “You sure you don’t want to look at it at least?” 

You look at him wide-eyed, “some surprises are best saved for last,” Namjoon laughs at that, standing up to put the velvet box on top of his dresser in a place where you can see it. A sight that will tease you until one day you walk in and find it missing, and later will find it on your finger. After all- he never doubted that you would say yes. 

He pulls you up to your feet kissing you, your lips sweet and soft against his, “as much as I love seeing you in just my shirt you should probably get dressed, We have a busy day ahead of us,” he murmurs against your lips.

You raise an eyebrow in response, pulling away from the kiss to search his face “What do you have planned?”

Namjoon grins. “How do you feel about apartment hunting?”

Taglist:

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#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #bts scenario #bts reaction #bts fan fic #bts #kim namjoon #namjoon #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts idol au #bts longdistance relationship au

[doc-pickles]

the jolex college AU that literally no one asked for

Soooo I did a thing. I’ve actually had 90% of this in my drafts for awhile and I just decided to finish it today. (nina you said you didn’t have any fics in your drafts. WELL I’M STUPID SO THERE’S THAT) I’m not planning on expanding this past a one shot but it’s a fun little AU that my mind kicked up one night while watching 14x15 and drinking too much sangria. It’s not polished up or beta read but I figured something is better than nothing :) 

also TW// jo swears like a freaking sailor in this fic

“A fucking fire alarm? Really?!”

Jo Wilson was not one to be inconvenienced, especially not while she was in the damn shower. She let a groan out as the water above her shut off, probably an incentive to get her out of the building in case it really was on fire. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jo muttered to herself, reaching for her towel. After wrapping it around herself, she realized that she hadn’t brought her clothes with her. “Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Fuming with anger, Jo began to walk down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor and out the front door of Earl Hall. Various cat calls and whoops met Jo’s ears, but she was too angry with whoever the hell set off the fire alarm to acknowledge them. 

“Wilson! You trying to give us a show here,” Jo turned at her name, staring down Andrew DeLuca as he attempted to get under her skin… or under her towel. “I wouldn’t say no to a free peep show.”

“Oh shove off DeLuca, you’ll fuck anything with a pulse,” Jo retorted, earning a howl of laughter from DeLuca’s friends. “I’ll show off the goods to anyone who can tell me who set off the fucking fire alarm while I was showering though.”

“That would be me.”

Jo whipped around, one hand coming to hold the bottom of her towel in place as she came face to face with the person who had effectively ruined her day. 

She hadn’t met the man before, but Jo was instantly mesmerized. He wore a dark blue shirt and plaid boxer shorts, hair ruffled at odd angles and the beginnings of a scruffy beard appearing on his sharp jawline. The man was handsome and by God did Jo just want to fuck him right there and then. 

Kill him. Kill him right there and then. 

Jesus Christ Jo, pull your head out of your vagina. 

“So you’re the asshole that set off the alarm,” Jo asked, eyebrow raising as if daring him to refute her words. “Well hi, I’m Jo and I’m fucking pissed at you.”

“I’m Alex and I really enjoy your talent for slipping the word ‘fuck’ into almost every sentence that comes out of your mouth,” Jo stared back at Alex, unamused by his joke. “Listen I’m sorry, I was trying to study for chem and my hot plate burned a hole through my notebook. You should be back in soon if it’s any consolation.”

As if by fate, the fire alarm stopped ringing and someone shouted that it was safe to go back in. Students began to file in but Jo and Alex kept their staring match going. She couldn’t tell if it was the mounting sexual tension between them or just plain old hostility, but Jo couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man in front of her. 

“You’re on my fucking shit list Alex,” Jo stated firmly before walking away. “You better watch it!”

“Hey! You didn’t hold up your end of things,” Alex called out, causing Jo to turn back around and lift an eyebrow in question. “You said that you would ‘show off the goods’ to anyone who told you why the fire alarm went off. Well that was me.”

Jo paused momentarily, thoughts racing a million miles a minute before she moved closer to Alex and opened her towel up. Eyes wide, Alex immediately diverted his gaze away from Jo, not anticipating that she would actually flash him. With a satisfied smirk, Jo tucked her towel back into place and walked back towards the dorm hall. 

“Have a good fucking night Alex!”

+

“If I never end up at another frat party it’ll be too soon,” Jo complained, swatting a hand away from her ass as she followed her roommate towards the kitchen. “Why’d you have to drag me out here, Hannah? You know Brandon trolls these parties looking for unsuspecting girls to trick into dating him so he can cheat on them a month in.”

Hannah looked at Jo with a bored expression, as if to say she was tired of hearing this story over and over again. 

“We get it, you hate Brandon Thomas and everything he stands for,” Hannah rolled her eyes and handed a red solo cup to Jo. “But you realize that this is the Kappa house and Brandon is in Chi Omega. They’re sworn enemies, you’ll never see him here unless the planets align and someone’s sacrificed a virgin to the moon god.”

Jo rolled her eyes, lips coming to the cup and taking a large swallow of the jungle juice inside. She didn’t really know anyone at these parties, but there was always free alcohol and she had a pocket knife stashed in her bra in case she got into trouble. 

“Jo, promise me you won’t kill me but Brandon is here,” Jo’s head whipped around to look at Hannah, eyes wide as she stared her roommate down. “He’s by the front door, just turn around and walk towards the backyard and you’ll never see each other.”

Jo eyed the back door, only 50 feet from where she was standing. She could definitely make it there without being noticed. Weaving through the crowd, Jo was positive she would get out without accident. 

“Jo! Is that you?”

Brandon’s voice sounded over the crowd, making Jo cringe as she realized she had been caught. She looked around in a panic, almost yelling as a pair of arms slid around her waist. 

“Just play along, I hate that douche bag too,” Jo looked up in shock, realizing that the person that had grabbed her was the guy who had set off the fire alarm last week. “Nice to fucking see you, Jo.”

“Oh you’re a piece of- MMM,” Jo was cut off by Alex’s lips pressing into hers. Jungle juice and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Jo presses back against him. Alex holds her against him for a minute more, one hand trailing to grab her ass while the other pulls her closer into his embrace. Her free hand unconsciously comes up to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and Jo swears she can feel him moan under the pounding sounds of bass music that surround them. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, he pulls away with a crooked grin. 

“Sorry, that prick Thomas was walking by, had to give him a show. You’re welcome.” 

Alex walks away from Jo then, leaving her standing in the middle of a frat house party completely confused. 

+

“Jo! I’m walking out the door but your alarm has been going off for 20 minutes!” Hannah slammed the door to the dorm room, abruptly waking Jo up. She looked to her bedside clock, groaning loudly as she realized that she had 15 minutes to get across campus to her 9:30 AM class. 

“Well fuck,” Jo bemoaned as she rolled out of bed, grabbing whatever clothes were around her and throwing them on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t miss O Chem again. Fuck!”

Rushing out the door, Jo let her worn out sneakers pound across the pavement towards her Organic Chemistry class. It was only week two of spring semester and she couldn’t risk missing class for a second time. 

Skidding into the lecture hall, Jo raced past a few students and slid into the back row of her class only five minutes late. She let out a loud breath, pulling her notebook out of her backpack as she tried to tune into the professor.

“You know you might be able to learn more if you show up on time,” Jo’s head snapped up as she looked to her left, realizing that the seat she had chosen was right next to Alex. “Funny seeing you here.”

“You have a lot of nerve trying to talk to me again after what you did at that house party,” Jo kept her eyes locked on her notebook, refusing to even glance at Alex as she started writing notes. “Even if you did save my ass, who goes around kissing strangers?”

“We’re not strangers. I know that your name is Jo and we live in the same hall and you smuggle cereal out of the dining hall when you think no one is looking,” Alex shrugged, eyes trained on the lecturer at the front of the hall. “And you’ve shown me your rack, I feel like that counts for something too.”

Side eyeing the man next to her, Jo watched Alex listening intently to their professor. He had a serious expression painted on his face, one that made him look years older than he was. Today he wore a forest green sweatshirt that bore the university’s wrestling team logo. Jo thought back to the first time she met Alex, remembering the way his shoulders and arms were built up more than anything else on his lean body. His dark hair and eyes that had instantly caught Jo’s eye seemed harsher under the fluorescent lighting of the classroom. This version of Alex that she was staring at today seemed so different than the Alex who accidentally set his chemistry book on fire and kissed her at a party to help her avoid her cheating ex. This Alex… well he seemed cold and unapproachable. 

“Okay that only proves that you’ve been stalking me,” Jo rolled her eyes. “What do you want? Are you expecting me to sleep with you? Or help you with your homework? Because that’s a no on all of the above.”

“Nah figured you needed a friend,” Alex shrugged, pencil tapping against the edge of his textbook. “You seem like the lonely type.”

“I am not lonely,” Jo’s voice comes out louder than intended. Her next words are softer as she glares at Alex, their teacher and lesson long forgotten. “I’m just selective about who I spend my time with.”

She does try to concentrate on her work then, but Jo can feel Alex’s eyes boring into the side of her head. He frustrates her, angers her in a way that nobody has before and she can’t decide if she wants to punch him in the face or kiss him until she can’t breathe. 

Wait what?

Jo shook her head, trying to clear out the image of a shirtless and sweaty Alex out of her mind. She was not going to start fantasizing about the handsome muscular man who’s lips felt like velvet against hers and who’s hand on her ass made her feel like-

“You’re drooling.”

Her hand flew up to her cheek, wiping at the small pool of liquid as her cheeks flamed red. She chanced looking over to Alex, who wore a shit eating grin that was slightly crooked. Damn it, keep it in your panties Jo!

“I was thinking about… dinner tonight,” Jo nodded, keeping her gaze forward. “Probably going to get… take out, something fast and easy.”

“Fast and easy, huh?,” Jo could swear that Alex’s voice took on a husky quality to it as he lowered his volume. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine as she futilely tried to calm the rising sensations in her body. ”That’s my favorite. For dinner I mean, I love it fast… and easy…” 

Whipping her head around, Jo locked her eyes with Alex’s. The intensity of their stares almost scared her, but more than that Jo was desperate. She wanted this complete stranger (and total asshole) in the worst ways possible, her mind conjuring up images that would send her straight to Hell if she dared to say them out loud. 

“I have no idea what the professor is talking about,” Jo admitted, eyes watching Alex’s lips as her tongue darted out wet her own. “But I really wanna get out of here.”

“If I fail this class because of you, you’re never gonna hear the end of it,” Alex was hastily shoving his books into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as Jo rose and made a beeline for the door. 

The pair ignored the stares they got from their classmates as they raced out the door, jetting into the empty hallway in a fit of giggles. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Jo found herself in Alex’s embrace. He pinned her against the wall, lips hungrily devouring hers as her hands fisted his hair roughly.

“Come on lover boy,” Jo smirked, hand tangling in Alex’s own as she broke apart from him and dragged him down the hall. “My roommate has classes for the rest of the day so my dorm is empty.”

#alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #jolex #jo x alex #jolex fic #greys anatomy #greys fanfic #greys #jolex fanfic #nina writes

[oflockhearted]

Plotted starter @wrxckfear���

Slipping between the crowds of protesters was no easy feat. ShinRa guards and avalanche goers clashed in a wellspring of insults, threats, and shoves. Some even enduring a lethal beating from either side; a sad sight to see, really. It made her heart throb just watching the two parties clamoring and spitting in each other's faces.

Ears itched and stung as the loud dissatisfied mantra of Rufus' ascension echoed across the entirety of Midgar. 'Down with ShinRa. Down with Rufus.' They chanted, they barked, and yelled earning a somber expression from the barmaid.

What...makes you hate him so? Tifa thinks as she casts a worrisome glance towards the top of Shinra's tower.

She begins by dipping between crowds and guards alike, keeping her distance from the heavy armored watchmen and timing their patrol pattern. Their blind spots weren't hard to exploit which made access to the outdoor steps accessible.

...And up she went.

1...2..3...4...5 flights of steps. Okay. This'll be a nice warmup.

                 6...7...8...9...10... still going strong.

11...12...13...14...15 Phew! I can go a little more.

                  16...17...18...19...20  .....

21...22...23...24...25...26...27...28...29...30 Just... 'thirty more flights... of steps to go...'

                   31...32...33...34...35...36...37...38...39... Forty! Okay. Making progress.... Just gotta pace myself....

41...42...43...44...45........Stupid of me not to bring water.... 46... keep going...47...48...49...50 ....... ehehe....                       51...my legs want to give out... 52...how much further? 53...I can just about see the top...54...55...56... .... .... .... ...57...

"Shit!" Knees suddenly buckle from underneath her just to catch herself wit the help of the railing. She looks over her shoulder for a brief moment to calculate if she would have survived the fall.        No such luck.

...58...59... She takes a moment to catch her breath, allowing herself to fold over on both hands and knees. She could still hear the protesters mantra as clear as she were still down in their cluster. Tifa just had to wonder what it felt like to hear crowds of people so dissatisfied by someone merely existing...

...60.

Finally, she enters through the fire escape. The blast of cool air from Shinra's cooling agents were like a godsend. She closes her eyes. She needed a moment to feel the breeze tickling her skin and brushing long brown locks of hair in every which way as she feels her body temp gradually steady. When she finally opens her eyes however, she wasn't prepared for to see a turk standing directly in front of her. She might have gasped. Perhaps even jumped. But the look on Tseng's dark visage held an expectant stare. Like he knew she'd be coming.

"Follow me." He demanded, having already started down the hall.

Despite her better judgement Tifa decides to trail along, focusing on the squeak of her boots against the freshly waxed floors.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Depends what it is." They enter the elevator Tseng granting access to the upper-most part of the building.

The feeling of the lift felt like she was being pulled down.

"Did you know I was coming?"

A low chuckle emanates from his chest.

"Purely coincidence." The bell rings above the lift, Tseng gestures a hand towards the sliding glass doors, "After you."

"Ah. Right." She takes one careful step out and into the hall. So far she's not been ambushed. And she was on the 70th floor... Was Tseng leading her to Rufus?

Not long after they stop before a closed door as the turk raps the back of his gloved hand gently against the door. "Mr. President. There's someone here to see you."

#wrxckfear #;main #//cut for length! #//hope this is gucci

[retroateez]

Prophecy - Chapter Eight

wc; 2338 Prophecy Masterlist

It wasn't until the next afternoon that a pair of guards you hadn't met before came to collect you for your meeting with the king. They said nothing to you as they took your arms, pulling them behind your back and tying them in a fasion you'd become much too familiar with.

"What's the king like?" you question as they guide you through the same route you were taken through yesterday.

They maintain their silence, so you opt to imagine what the king is like instead.

You picture a rather plump, older man, probably in his 50s. He's got short, snowy white hair and a inky black beard speckled with tawny brown and silver. You imagine him to be stocky and built, but years of war have slowed him down considerabley; he's wise, but a complete dick. It would make sense for him to have such a youthful kingsguard, (Seonghwa can't be any older than 26, you guess), a king worn by age wouldn't be able to protect himself as well as he could in his prime.

Instead of taking you to the study, the guards manoeuvre you past the room and up a spiralling flight of stairs, leaving you wondering just where they're taking you.

You get to the top of the staircase, and you're pushed immediately to your right. One of the guards raps loudly against the hard wood of the door, and waits until a voice unknown to you shouts for you to enter.

The guard opens the door, and they shove you in harshly, your shoe getting caught on the worn, patterned rug and almost losing your footing. The door slams shut behind you, and you realise the guards haven't followed suit; you're alone.

The room appears to be both a study and a miniature library, considerably bigger than Seonghwa's room downstairs, but you assume it's far from the biggest room in the castle.

To your right, the three walls are lined with around a dozen ceiling high bookcases, each shelf packed full of books or stacked high with parchments. Two wooden benches are placed back to back in between the bookcases, each one has a soft-looking blanket thrown over the seats. You can only wonder what magnificant beasts those pelts came from. Above the benches is an extremely luxurious chandelier made from a dark, wrought iron, the only spattering of colour being a small but beautiful collection of assorted jewels dangling from the center, and the lit candles in each placeholder make them glitter softly.

Shifting to your left, is a fairly large, mahogany desk, except this one isn't cluttered with notes and books; it's clean, bar one unrolled piece of parchment that you can't read from your position at the door. There are two, plain, high-backed chairs on your side of the desk, and a much grander, intricately carved seat on the opposite side. The wooden seat is hidden by a velvety soft, navy blue cushion, and the back is covered by a fur similar to that on the benches. That one is clearly for the king.

Just behind the royal seat, is a lit hearth, enveloping the entire room in an inviting sunset glow. There's a mirror hanging above the fireplace, the golden frame embossed by rubies, sapphires, emeralds and other precious stones you couldn't even hazard guessing the names of.

The room exudes wealth, and you feel disgusting even just standing in it, adorning your shoes, caked with dried mud and your borrowed clothes from Yeosang. They're simple but any of these royals wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything of the sort.

You want nothing more than the ground to swallow you up whole. But you take a deep breath and compose yourself. After all, you're about to lie to the king of one of the most powerful kingdoms on the planet.

Speaking of the king, where is he?

"I don't give a shit, Hongjoong!" You hear an all too familiar voice suddenly shout.

"Excuse me?" 'Hongjoong' seethes back. "Who do you think you are to address me like that?"

"I'll address you however the fuck I want until you give he-"

"Yeosang?" you interrupt the tense argument between the two men, astonished to see the mage in front of you.

The blonde leaps up and hurries over to you, wrapping his shaking arms around you and pulling you into his chest without a second thought.

"I was so worried, thank the gods you're okay." he mumbles against your hair. All anger and pain you had melts away, as Yeosang had never shown you affection like this all the while you'd been his student. You decide to question him about it later, the other man in the room clearly about to voice his distate about the scene in front of him.

"Well isn't this sweet," the man Yeosang referred to as Hongjoong scorns, glaring at you both like you're something on the bottom of his incredibly polished boot. "If you could unhand my prisoner, Yeosang, I would be much obliged." he upkeeps his politeness, but does so with his teeth greeted.

You have zero idea who this man is, or what he could possibly be doing in the castle.

You inspect him from across the room; he's got light, honey brown hair that's short at the top and longer at the back; travelling down to the base of his neck where his shoulders connect. As well as a small, sharp nose and rows of perfectly straight teeth. You notice multiple pieces of jewellery covering both his ears, as well as a necklace and an assortment of rings. He looks expensive; he looks regal.

He's also wearing a huge, light brown fur coat, probably from a bear, but you couldn't be sure. Honestly, the coat drowns him and makes him look much smaller than he really is, but it's an impressive piece of clothing nonetheless. Underneath is a plain white shirt, not too different from the ones Yeosang wears. Simple, sandy breeches and black boots like Seonghwa's. He's fairly short too, probably the same height as you, but much shorter than Yunho.

"Your prisoner?" you scoff. "Who even are you?"

You direct your gaze to the man whose face is burning with increasing anger, and you miss the colour drain from Yeosang's face as he watches you insult the most important man in Ateez.

"Who am I?" he bellows. "Who am I?"

Yeosang steps away from you and stands by the desk, like he's trying to referee the conversation. Although he's probably just trying to stop Hongjoong from killing you.

"Iris," Yeosang explains. "This is King Hongjoong of Ateez."

Your eyes widen and you freeze completely.

"You're the king?" you repeat.

Hongjoong's face turns a deeper blood red, and you're worried he may pass out.

He isn't what you expected at all.

He doesn't appear strong, or wise, or battered by war and struggles like the storybooks paint kings to be. He's young. You estimate he can't be much older than Yeosang or Seonghwa, or even yourself.

"I'm the King." Hongjoong spits with his teeth gritted together, and you can tell by his narrow glare that he's thinking of the quickest way to kill you.

Instead of insulting him further, you bow your head.

"I'm so sorry, your majesty," you apologise. "I didn't mean to cause any offense."

You glance over at Yeosang for approval on your apology and only get a 'it-could've-been-better' shrug in response.

Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply to recollect himself. He's going to murder Seonghwa later for making him deal with such an irritating excuse of a human being.

"I'll excuse you, but only on the basis you have potentially useful information for me." he replies coldly.

"Information?" Yeosang shoots you a confused frown. "What information?"

"About the prophecy." You stare Hongjoong straight in the eyes, seeing a fire ignite within them.

"Well?" The king prompts. "Out with it."

You internally prepare yourself for the lies you're about to conjure, like an actor about to make his debut on stage; your performance could make or break your future.

"Why should I simply just hand over my information?" You tilt your head slightly, ignoring the daggers Yeosang is shooting at you for once again being rude to the king. "What can I expect in return, your majesty?"

Hongjoong's lip curls up into a nasty snarl; he's furious that you're challenging him, but- and he'd never admit it- he's impressed at the way you're bargaining.

His tongue comes out to poke the inside of his cheek and he turns his head to glance out the window. "I should've expected this from a common thief." he bites.

A moment or two passes of absolute silence. It would've taken the sharpest sword smithed by Hephaestus himself to cut through the air.

"Very well," Hongjoong suddenly barks. "What is it that you want?"

"My freedom," you rush out quickly. "And a favour, when the need should arise."

"A favour?" Hongjoong scoffs. "Why don't you go ahead and ask for my firstborn while you're at it!"

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Do you want help with your prophecy or not?"

"...Fine. You're no longer a prisoner, however if I find out at any point you're lying to me I will not hesitate to throw you back in jail." He turns his attention to Yeosang. "And as for you, you'll get much, much, worse."

You nod, but panic starts to bubble up inside you, as you are in fact lying to the king at this very moment, and intend to continue lying to him until he notices otherwise.

"So, what information did you have to share with me?" Hongjoong takes his beautiful fur coat off and hangs it on the back of his chair, pulls the chair out, then sits himself down and examines the parchment laying on his desk.

Both you and Yeosang take this as initiative to inspect it also, so you both walk around the sides of the table to stand behind Hongjoong.

The parchment appears ancient, frayed slightly around the edges and faded a burnt beige colour from age. The ink is fading, and you have to squint in places to read it. That is, if you could read it.

"What language is that?" you blurt out.

"It's Latin." Yeosang answers before Hongjoong can question your lack of knowledge. "I'm not fluent but I can pick out certain words."

He points to a word near the top of the scroll. "The Exitium?" he reads. "The destruction?"

Hongjoong nods. "The destruction, the ruin of this kingdom." he explains. "Every century, according to this prophecy, the gods send an incredibly powerful being to bring about the end of Ateez. So far, my ancestors have managed to locate the threat and quell it before it can occur."

"If it's prophesised, won't it happen one day anyway?" you ask, recalling your prior discussion about destiny with Yeosang.

"Of course it will," Hongjoong snaps. "But if we catch it early, we can delay it for another 100 years. Only this time it's become increasingly difficult to find. I'm worried we're dealing with something more than human."

"Anyway, that's where you come in," Hongjoong abruptly stands up, his chair scraping on the wooden floor and forcing you and Yeosang to step aside. "Surely your information will prove useful?" he challenges.

"Well... I-"

"We'll need an astrologer." Yeosang interrupts with a cough. Luckily, Hongjoong diverts his attention from you just as your plan begins to crumble.

"I've already consulted one, I'm no fool, mage."

"Of course you have," Yeosang nods. "But you haven't consulted this one."

---

An hour later, you and Yeosang stroll out the front gates of the castle grounds, having struck a deal with the King of Ateez himself.

The giant oak gates close behind you with a thunk, and you turn to Yeosang. But before you can speak, he raises a hand and smacks you across the back of the head.

"That's for being so careless!" he barks.

You rub the back of your skull, looking up at him in bewilderment.

"Careless?!" you repeat. "You abandoned me! What else was I supposed to do?"

"Anything that wasn't agree to help the king on a subject you know nothing about!"

"Well I'm sorry, Yeosang! But I was all alone, and I didn't know what to do and I-"

Yeosang cuts off your rambling by once again tugging you into his chest, this time pecking the crown of your head as he hold you close.

"Obviously I was planning on coming back for you, fool." he whispers so softly you wonder if your ears are playing tricks on you.

"Well now you've gotten us into this mess, Iris, we're going to pay a visit to a friend of mine."

"You really know an astrologer?" You're shocked, thinking that Yeosang was plucking ideas out of thin air.

"Of course I do. Except he's a little reserved, so whether or not he'll help us is another question. But first, we have something else to attend to."

"What?" you question.

"You," he stops in his tracks and turns to face you. "need to pass your alchemy exam".

You roll your eyes. Of course Yeosang would prioritise that over a deal that could result in both your deaths.

"You are my student, after all." he explains. "I wouldn't be much of a teacher if you didn't have at least one qualification to your name."

"Anyway, come here. I'll teleport us home."

"You could teleport this entire time?!"

Yeosang shrugs.

You  sigh as Yeosang pulls you against his side, telling you to close your eyes before he teleports, otherwise they'll most likely explode inside your skull and that was less than desireable.

You can't keep the small smile off your face though, glad that even if you've landed yourself in a potentially life-threatening deal with a king, at least you have Yeosang by your side.

That was all you needed.

Or so you thought.

Chapter Nine

#ateez #ateez au #medieval!ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

[mobbinholland]

house sitting - tom holland

request: can you do a mob!tom where he’s going to another state or wtv and he needs someone to watch his house while he’s gone. and his best friend knows someone that would do it and it’s y/n. so when tom and his best friend come back y/n isn’t anywhere to be found so he figured that she went home. but later when tom went downstairs to workout in his home gym he saw y/n working out and after a lot of back and forth flirting they eventually just go at it. add a lot of degrading if you can🥴

pairing : tom x reader (totally forgot about mob tom sorry!)

warnings: smut , degrading, sir kink , slut - that word.

Authors note: i’m creating a tag list where you guys can add yourself so be on da look out :)

•••

“haz, are you sure she is legit? like she isn’t going to steal anything ?” tom asked for reassurance.

“yes tom! god stop freaking out. she is going to be here in a few minutes.” harrison rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen.

you got a call a few days ago from a long time friend harrison asking if you could watch his buddy’s Tom house. you agreed considering how much tom was willing to give you for a week. i guess tom and haz was going to london for a week so you were here watching his house in LA.

you rung the door bell and not even five seconds the door swung open and you saw haz pretty face. you smiled so wide “y/n!!” he yelled. he pulled you into a suffocating hug. “god i misssed you! it’s been too long!” he says as he places you down. you laughed “i know i know. i talk to your mom everyday and she always keeps me up to date.” you two smiled at each other until you saw another figure peek from the corner.

“y/n, this is tom.” he introduces the two of you. you shook each others hands. of course you knew who tom was. the famous spider-man. you watched his movies like 50 times all together. you always thought he was attractive. you never told haz because ofcourse he would tell his best friend.

20 minutes go by and the boys were heading for the door. “okay well my contact information is on the fridge. tessa is with my brothers in london so you don’t need to worry about that. just call if anything happens! you’re welcome to sleep in my room.” tom stopped in front of you telling you anything and everything he could think of. all you could do is nod. “tom don’t worry. i got it. i’ll call you if anything!” you reassured him pushing the boys out so they wouldn’t miss their flight.

“kay! be safe y/n!” harrison yelled from down the hall. “i will! have fun!” you yelled back and tom looked back at you scanning your body. you blushed but ignored it. “bye tom.” you said.

“bye y/n.”

—

it’s has been six days that you’ve been staying at toms house. you fell in love with it. the infinity pool, the size of the kitchen, the tiles, the movie room, and especially his home gym. you tried to keep up with the gym but of course no one is perfect. tom was suppose to come back at 4pm today. Haz told him he was saying another week in london because of family. it was 1:23 pm. so you decided to switch into a gym fit and head to toms gym.

the amount of equipment that he had blew your mind! but you put on your music that connected to the speakers. you were in love! and you went on with your routine.

it’s been 30 minutes in and all you hear is

“you know, your form is bad.” you jumped as you saw tom lean against the door frame through the mirror on the wall as he watched you do your squats.

“oh yeah? wanna come show me how to fix it?” you said not breaking eye contact through the mirror. he smirked and walked your way. you blushed as his hand touched your lower back to straighten it up.

“sit like you’re going to sit in a chair.” and his hand moves down to your ass. you smirked and rises back up and turned to him. “better?”

“yes.” he assured you. you sat down on the bench and squirted the water into your mouth. making sure some water dripped down to your chest. considering you were in a sports bra and spandex.

tom watched your every move. the way your lips parted, how the water flowed down to your cleavage, the way you wiped your mouth.

“are you going to finish ?” he asked trying to ignore his growing member. you stood up and bent over to pick up your bag. “yes sir.” you started to walk away until you were slammed into you wall. tom looking straight into your eyes.

“say it again.” he says deep. you were confused. “yes sir?” he grinned devilish. “you look so good in those shorts darling...”

“you look good in that shirt.” you say as you run your finishing against his arm. the white tight dri fit matterial showed off his body in such an amazing way. he runs his fingers against your heat. you gasp as you looked at him.

“you sure darling?” he tries to find a answer in your eyes. you nod never breaking eye contact. “need words pretty girl.” “yes tom.” he smirked and threw you over his shoulders and went to the nearest bedroom. you assumed it was a guest bedroom. he locked the door and threw you in the bed. he striped you then stripped himself.

he held your legs in the hair and placed his hand inbetween your thighs. “fuck you’re wet already? who made you this wet?” he asked running his fingers on your soaking folds. your back arched up and replied “you tommy.” he clenched his jaw as you called him his favorite nickname. he inserted his middle finger. you whimpered out as he did three slow strokes and added another “fuck.” you whine.

“you like that huh? you like it when i pump my fingers into your tight little pussy?” tom says as he curled his fingers hitting your sweet spot which made you feel your orgasm come faster. “fuck tom.” he held the bottom part of your stomach as he finger fucked you. “i-i’m gonna ... tom fuck - imma cum!” you tell him and with that you lose the contact with his fingers and you whine. he grabbed your hair and forced you to look at him. he admired you for a while and smirked down at you.

“you wanna suck my cock huh?” tom ask. you nod frantically “dirty little slut. begging for my cock. come on .” he laid on the bed and you sat up on your knees and took in him your hands. he was so big and thick. you wrapped you lips around his pretty pink tip. tom they’re his head back. you tried to take him ass but he was just too big for you but you pumped the rest with whatever you couldn’t take.

“look at you , i bet your soaking cunt wants my cock so bad baby.” he says and you moan against his cock making him jerk up a bit. he grabbed a fist of your hair and made you go down and choke on his dick. “your pretty little throat can’t take it. pathetic.” he fucked your throat for a little bit before pulling out and shoving your face into the bed. and pulling your ass up. you whine begging for him to fuck you until your see stars.

“please tom just fuck me.” you beg him and he chuckles and slaps your swollen pussy. your gasp into the sheets as he does it again. “fucking whore. do you take every guys cock you house sir for?” he ask as he aligned his top with your entrance “no just you daddy.” he groaned as you called him that and he slammed into make you jerk forwards but his hands found your hips and he had no mercy on you.

pounding deep and hard into you. your eyes rolled backed. as you screamed and he slaps your ass “can’t take it can you?” he grabs your hair pulling you up. “fuck tom-m i can-nt” you spit out knowing that’s what he wants to hear “well your going to fucking take it. got it?” he asked pulling your hair tighter. you nod and he throws you back on the bed and goes faster than before.

you honestly couldn’t take it. you were surprised at his size. you expected it to be big but shit not that big.

“tom i’m coming! please don’t stop!” you scream “me too baby. come right now. come all over my cock.” and he pounds into you harder and your high washed over you. your legs shake and your body goes numb and soon tom fills you up. and finishes off with a few more slow strokes. he pulls out of you and lays next to you.

he kisses your forehead and looks at your legs still shaking. “come one love, let’s get you in the bath.” he says sitting up. you nod following his actions.

“wanna house sit next week?” he smirks at you

#marvel #peter parker #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom x reader #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu phase 4 #mob!tom smut #mob!tom #dom!tom

[nayutai]

Gotta Go

⤳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

⤳ Prompt: “the reader is out singing karaoke in NYC at a Korean BBQ place or something and BTS is touring there, and they stop in to relax and have fun, and they hear the reader singing? And then I suppose it could go any way from there”

⤳ Happy One Year to the BTS Smut Club! I’m so, so thankful to be a part of this network. I’ve been able to meet so many amazing authors who have taught me so much and allowed me to improve my own writing through them. This is my contribution to the anniversary project and I hope it’s everything the requester wanted it to be 💞

⤳ Warnings: language, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex

“Janae your rich ass better be paying for this food. BTS has taken nearly a grand from my bank account and I’ll be damned if I spend $50 on some bulgogi and tea water.” You call out from the bathroom as you lean in close to the mirror to fill in your eyebrows. After waking up at three in the morning to catch your flight and then spending the afternoon exploring New York City with your three best friends, despite the occasional rain storm, you looked and felt like shit. All you want to do is curl up in bed and watch a movie but your friend Janae is craving korean bbq and is dragging the rest of you with her.

“Don’t worry, love. Mommy’s paying for this one.” Janae says as she walks up behind you waving around the black American Express card her mother had given her. Both of Janae’s parents came from old money and subsequently became big whigs in their respective professions. Janae was primarily raised by nannies while her parents threw money at her to fill the void left by their absence. She made sure they paid dearly for it and you can’t say you blame her.

***

Hoseok flops down on top of Jungkook with a whine while Taehyung and Jimin cackle from across the room. The three of them have been trying unsuccessfully to convince Jungkook to go get food with them but the youngest is being stubborn. Shocker.

“I’ll pay just come with us.” Hoseok whines, wrapping himself around Jungkook’s bulky frame. Jimin and Taehyung writhe around in laughter at the smile on Jungkook’s face that can only be described as victorious.

“Well since you offered...I found this korean bbq place nearby that’s supposed to be really good.”

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it, you maknae brat?”

“That’s not important so are we going or not?”

“Yeah, I’m starving. Let’s go”

Jimin and Jungkook are fighting over the last bite of kimchi, despite the fact that their waitress has just left to go get more, when the host that greeted them at the door rolls out a karaoke machine and announces that the floor is open. Anyone who scores 85% or higher gets a half off discount on their meal. The only catch is that the machine will be shuffling through a kpop top 50 playlist and the patron has to sing whatever song comes up.

The sound of a girl clambering forward for the microphone catches the table’s attention. Jimin and Jungkook even stop arguing to see what’s going on, allowing for Hoseok to swoop in and steal the kimchi they’d been arguing over. Taehyung licks his lips when his eyes wander down her figure. He’s not entirely sure how she managed to fit her ass into her shorts because they look painted on but he’s glad she did. The host presses shuffle and the rest of the girls at her table immediately start yelling when the first notes of Chungha’s Gotta Go begin to play.

Taehyung is mesmerized by the way she flawlessly moves as she puts on a show for her fellow patrons. He’s even more impressed with how good her korean pronunciation is. Cheers arise from the crowd during the dance break when she really goes all out.

“She’s really good.” Jungkook murmurs around a mouth full of rice.

It’s no surprise when she receives a near perfect score. She graciously bows to the host when he hands over her well-deserved coupon before bowing deeply to the crowd. Her friends smack her on the ass repeatedly in celebration of her performance when she returns to the table. Jimin and Hoseok whisper amongst each other before flagging down one of the waiters when he walks by their table on his way to the kitchen. Jungkook and Tae share looks of confusion but remain quiet. Whatever the other two members are conspiring about will be revealed eventually.

Taehyung nearly chokes on his drink when he watches the young man turn on his heel to walk back across the restaurant to the table Taehyung hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from. They seem to not believe whatever it is the waiter says to them but Taehyung’s eyes widen when they follow him anyway to the dark corner of the restaurant that they’ve been occupying for the better part of three hours.

***

“Holy shit he wasn’t lying.” You breathe out as your friends stand shell-shocked by the table. You all slowly lower yourselves into the extra chairs that are rushed over while Hoseok asks for your names.

It’s awkward at first but once everyone gets past that, conversation flows much more smoothly. Especially once it’s revealed that you all studied abroad in Seoul for a year and therefore speak basic Korean. Taehyung finds himself even more enamored by you the more he hears you speak. He thinks you’re absolutely adorable as you scrunch your nose up in concentration whenever you forget how to translate specific words into korean. He vaguely registers the fact that each of your friends has paired off with one of the other members.

Jimin orders a couple rounds of shots and things start to get a little more interesting. Taehyung takes careful notice of the way that the two of you seem to be moving closer together as the minutes go by. He’s afraid to read too much into it but dear god he’s hoping this means you want him the way he wants you. Your eyes seem to be drifting to his lips every few seconds and it’s making him fidgety with the urge to touch you. So much so that he drops the piece of meat he’d picked up. It lands right on his crotch. Before he can react, you snatch it up and pop it in your mouth with a wink and a flirtatious grin. Time to go.

Taehyung stands, pulling you with him, noticing then that Hoseok and Jungkook have already disappeared with two of your friends and Jimin is about to do the same with the one still at the table. He hadn’t even noticed their absence in the slightest. The air outside is crisp and serves to clear his lust-clouded mind a little bit.

“Nothing has to happen tonight. You know that right?”

“I’m well aware of that fact. I’m also well aware of the fact that I want to ride you into oblivion and I can’t do that if I don’t leave with you.” Taehyung’s jeans feel three sizes too small as his cock swells at your crude words. The hotel is on the next block but as he weaves through the crowd with your hand securely in his, that block feels like a mile.

***

Taehyung is almost frantic as he rushes to reveal what your clothes hide. Your giggling morphes into small moans and gasps when he buries his face between your legs without warning. His hands rhythmically squeeze your upper thighs as he holds your squirming hips in place. His tongue is sinfully talented and coupled with the darkness of his eyes staring into yours you’re a goner. Your thighs are trembling from the force of your orgasm when Taehyung finally releases you from his grasp.

Your hands fumble with his belt while his lips tangle with yours. For some godforsaken reason the man is still fully dressed. He even still has his sneakers on. His shirt joins your clothes somewhere on the floor, pants shoved halfway down his thighs. You hum in excitement at the lack of underwear. One less layer of clothing for you to contend with.

Taehyung reaches for the condoms he’d haphazardly thrown into the drawer of the bedside table. He hadn’t planned to bring anyone back to his room but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. You snatch the latex from him once he’s got it open, relishing in the deep grumble he lets out when you roll it on him. He presses your thighs to your chest and slides his rigid length through your wetness until he’s coated in your juices. A shiver of pleasure runs through you every time he bumps against your clit.

“Stop teasing me.” You demand through gritted teeth. He chuckles darkly. The low timbre of it has your inner muscles clenching around nothing.

“As you wish, love.” Taehyung draws his hips back, thrusting forward to roughly bury himself inside you. You would scream but it feels as though he’s forced all of the air out of your lungs.

Taehyung is similarly affected. His head tossed back as he savors the sensation of your walls hugging him so tightly. He’s sure that yours is the tightest, wettest pussy he’s ever had the pleasure to be inside of. Another groan escapes him when you start squirming around beneath him. You’re begging for more and more he’s about to give you what you’re asking for.

His pace starts off slow and steady like the gentle rocking of a recently vacated rocking chair but it builds. It builds until his hips are pistoning into yours at high speed. If the loud smacking sound his thighs make every time they collide with your skin doesn’t give away your activities, the banging of the headboard against the wall surely will. Taehyung bends his head down to latch his lips around one of your nipples. His movement changes the angle of his hips only slightly but it’s enough to have him roughly stabbing at a particularly sensitive spot inside you repeatedly.

You cry out his name as you’re thrown headfirst into a mighty orgasm. He thrusts a few more times before your spasming muscles make it too difficult for him to continue fucking into you. Instead, he lets you milk him dry, a hoarse shout escaping him as he fills the condom.

“Fuck that was good. I might need a wheelchair for your concert tomorrow though.” Taehyung huffs out a laugh while still trying to catch his breath.

“That can be arranged.”

#btssmutclub #BSCProject #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts smut

[jojosthetic-boogaloo]

Hello dear ❣️ can I have a regular match up? I’m a Brazilian girl, blonde hair and dark brown eyes, I have a nice butt 🌝 and I’m fairly short. I’m always cheerfull, but pretty insecure about myself. I’m a little stubborn sometimes bc I have a strong personality, I’m not afraid to fight over something I believe and I can be very loud about that 😂 I’m Taurus, I love to write, read and watch movies (addicted to Pixar) I’m caring and love physical contact, PDA++ (wait I have more info)

Sweet bean! As we talked in DMs, you get a moodboard of course! I really enjoy making them and it really doesn’t take more than an hour most times for me to arrange it, so don’t worry! I only feel bad since it takes more time and I keep you guys hanging for longer than I’d like to, but if you’re okay with waiting, you get a moodboard! 

Now, for your matchup! I had a bit of a hard time deciding on this. I mean, okay, I’m kinda lying, I instantly knew who to match you up with, but I did struggle a bit! Hence, behold and prepare for trouble, and make it double!

Translation: “Paris isn't the only place we can shoot off at, darling”

Whaaat? Dia, did you just make a combo moodboard? Well, yes I did you sexy beast. Why? Because I felt that both of them would complement you on a 50/50 ratio, each his own. So, if you’re into poli relationships, ahoy! If not, just one of them is good too, hope you enjoy my reasoning for each below!

Guido Mista!

You met by chance during one of his missions. You just so happened to almost make him miss his shot, if it were not because he’d pushed you to the side to avoid hurting you, that is. Let it be known, you were majorly pissed at first, and were about to yell at him every single insult you could think up. Then, noticing the gun in his hand and the fallen man on the far end of the street, you froze up. You really, really shouldn’t have come to this side of Naples this late in the afternoon.

When he’s done his job, he quickly turns to you, raising an eyebrow at how instead of running away in a panic, you’d just sat there on the ground, looking at him with a mix between anger and fear in your eyes. He caught on the situation, and immediately felt bad. He stepped closer to you, and you could feel nothing but your legs freeze, not allowing you to move. Was he going to kill you? What were you going to do now??

Surprisingly enough, he extended his hand towards you with the most handsome smile (well, you weren’t quite sure if it was the smile or his face overall) you’d ever seen and, carefully, extended yours to grab his, surprised by it’s warmth. Right now, you were truly thankful you’d taken your pills that day, otherwise you’d be grasping for air and curled in a ball right now. 

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good, maybe in shock?” You didn’t answer, maybe you were in shock, and Mista wasn’t happy with that, he got worried, helping you up carefully and holding you up by placing an arm around your shoulder so you wouldn’t plummet to the ground. “Listen, it’s late and I doubt there’s any place I can step in open right now, it’s a local holiday today, you know?” He commented, seemingly trying to balance his options while helping you walk alongside him.

“Fine.” You muttered, feeling your lungs work properly once again, your legs starting to keep up the pace by themselves again, yet there was a weird feeling of pressure in your chest and a weird, uncomfortable lightheaded sensation settling in your head. Maybe you were in fact in shock. You felt like screaming, but the pressure in your chest kept you from it. After all, you’d just seen someone get shot. And his oddly friendly and caring killer was helping you walk as you thought this.

“Listen.” He started, looking forward to make sure you didn’t trip with anything on your way. “It’s my job, I’m not just shooting people for fun, I want you to know that you’re not in any type of danger with me.” He continued, stealing a side glance to you, who seemed very focused on your walking and the pavement. He sighed at your silence. “I’m Guido Mista, you can just call me Mista though, if you want t- HEY!” The pressure in your chest increased, and you felt your body-weight plummet to the ground below your legs, you’d fainted. 

When you woke up, you scanned your surroundings, slowly but carefully trying to make out where you were. This was unfamiliar; a fancy, quite rustic living room laid before your eyes. You let out a quiet grunt when you tried to sit up, feeling your head spin and holding it with your hand. Slight rustling and a thud were the first things you heard in that deafening silence, turning your groggy gaze to the source only to find yourself with a cute, round tiger striped ass pointing your direction. It’s owner had tumbled over from the sofa before it, probably. But, you’d seen those pants before, had you not?

When the figure rose from the ground, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. It was the man from before. How was he there? Most importantly, where were you even?!

“Good morning, miss. It’s me, Mista, from last night.” He started, squatting before you so you’d meet his gaze, deep and sincere. He didn’t seem like a bad person, it was just that, last night... He started speaking again when he noticed your gaze falter from his face down onto the ground with a preoccupied frown. “I brought you here, you fainted on me and I didn’t know where else to take you. Bruno took good care of you, you’re all fine now! He told me you’d fainted due to severe stress and shock.” He paused, analyzing your expression. You were looking at him, but somehow, it felt like you weren’t really listening to him and were just spacing out. 

He looked down and bit the inside of his cheek, feeling terrible. He didn’t mean to fuck it up this bad by letting a civilian get involved in his business. And even more so if it was such a cute girl, who was in this state thanks to him. When he looked back up, he found himself with your open palm right onto his face, as you tragically shoved him and his ass touched the ground once more. Well, now he was confused. 

“You.” You started, still confused and sitting back up with tentative motions. You shook your head and looked around the room once more. Empty. Only Mista and you in there. Your fight or flight response activated. Looking back at the now tumbled over gunman, you saw him slowly rise up with both his hands at the sides of his head, in an apologetic, harmless gesture and with a dumb smile on his face. He did not expect that reaction, but it was honestly amusing, no one had dared to do that to him, if ever. “Yes?” He answered, slowly getting on his feet this time and looking at you, sitting on the sofa with a questioning look. “Where am I?” 

Your speech was shorter and calmer than you’d liked it to be, but that’s just how your body was willing to behave as of now. You felt tired. Looking straight into the man’s dark eyes, you noticed for the first time, at least with a clear mind. He really didn’t look bad, nor personality wise nor physically wise. You bit your lip and looked to the window behind him to his right. It was sunny, quite so, maybe it was lunchtime already. He cleared his throat and with a wave of his hand to bring your gaze back to him, he answered. “You’re at one of Naples’s Passione hideouts. Basically, our den.” Seeing how alarmed your expression got, he quickly waved his hands frantically before you, dismissing any threatening thoughts you might have gotten. “Don’t worry! We just treated you, you’re free to go now, well, we’ll have to drop you off somewhere so you don’t remember your way back here but, yeah. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” You blurted out, finally feeling your speech come back to you. “You’re telling me that, after seeing a man get shot by a gangster, getting taken to a mafia hideout and spending the night, I’m just, magically, going to be set free and about like nothing happened?” Your tone rose bit by bit until it came out in a panicked squeal. He blinked a few times in silence, his mouth small in surprise. After a few short seconds of silence and a “uhhhhh” from Guido, he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah?” You were the one to blink a few times now, confused. 

“...Okay.” You muttered, rising from your seat and walking to the living room’s door with no established destination. Once you got to the door, it flung open before you, making you let out a shriek and almost falling on your butt onto the floor once more. It was a tall, long white haired man with the aspect of someone who could easily crush your head with his bare pinky finger. You slowly recoiled back, until your back was met with an obstacle; two black boots to be more specific. Mista’s. He held you from under your arms and helped you up. Still feeling the fear seep into your body, you pressed your back flush against Mista’s chest, who let out a surprised cough at the contact.

“Is it this little chick the one you frightened to death, Mista?” The tall man spoke, his voice just as low as you expected it to sound like, you brought your hands together and rested them before your lower stomach. You were scared, they were the mafia, of course you were getting like, murdered or some shit!

“Sadly, yes. I really, really didn’t mean to, signorina.” He lowered his face a bit in attempt to direct his last words to you, to which you reacted by turning your face in his direction and, instead of yelling, pressing your lips shut. He was... well, closer than you expected. Feeling heat rise to your face, you quickly turned your face to the man at the door, letting out a small, angry huff. You just really, really wanted it all to be over or to be a weird dream.

“It’s... okay.” You let out quietly. What?? You didn’t mean to say that, it wasn’t okay! You were outright terrified and scared, and by yourself with the god damn Italian mafia! No matter, after a quick glance to the man behind you, you felt a weird sense of relief and comfort when you saw his expression soften and a bright smile beaming down on you. You really couldn’t find normal people attractive, could you now. 

“Well, when you’re done flirting, the car is outside, we already gathered where you live so all you have to do is sit quietly on the back and not take your blind off. Understood?” The other man spoke, making you snap your head right back at him alarmed. You really didn’t even know how to react aside than with a reluctant nod. Great, now the mafia knew where you lived, wasn’t that just, grand.

You got blindfolded by the one you were most comfortable with, the one that actually sent your whole night upside down and made you get caught up in this but, no matter, the nicest one so far. Mista was careful not to get any of your hairs caught in the knot, gently guiding you into the back of the car, which you assumed was a mini van, and feeling slight weight sink next to you in the seat as the engine started up. 

With a tentative hand, you palmed the space next to you, trying to find whoever was sitting next to you, even if you already had an idea, you wanted to confirm it. And honestly, this felt scary, so you just really wanted some reassurance. “Hm?” You heard from the man, who almost immediately covered your curious hand with his bigger, warmer one and squeezed it with care. “Don’t worry, we’ll drop you off soon and you won’t have to hear from us ever again.” He whispered to you, and you felt his breath clash against your ear, making you shiver. Did you... really want to never hear from him again? The thought crossed your mind, and lingered there for the whole ride.

When the car stopped, you felt him take your blind off, revealing the inside of a black mini van to you, empty for the most part, and sitting next to you now tucking the dark cloth in his pocket, Mista. He turned to you again and gave you a sincere, wide smile. “Here’s your house bella. I’m sure you’ll be happy to never get involved in this again, huh?” He commented, as he got up and opened the sliding door of the van and signaled you to get down. “Don’t worry, I’ll accompany you to the door if it makes you feel better.” It wasn’t that you’d feel better. It was that something... didn’t sit right with you about this. 

When you made it to the entrance, you opened the front door with your keys with ease, turning back to face him once more with your hands behind your back. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a confused pout in his face. “Is something the matter?” He started. You were trying to find the words to express what you wanted to say. 

“Y/N.” You started, looking him right in the eye, which seemed to fluster him a little. He tilted his head in confusion for a moment before you proceeded. “That’s my name, Y/N.” He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by raising your index in front of him, he complied and kept his mouth shut. “I’d like to keep in contact with you so, here, have my number.” At this point, you really didn’t know what you were even doing, honestly. Giving your phone number to a member of the mafia had to be now crossed from your bucket list before you die, great!

He seemed to struggle to find his reply for a few seconds, these few seconds which you used to scribble down your number into a piece of clean tissue you’d ripped from your bag, and slapping it on his chest with maybe more force than necessary. He let out a small cough from the impact and started chuckling in response, grabbing the piece of frail paper and holding it over his heart with a smile on his face. “I’ll make sure to let you know when I get back to my phone then, miss.”

You couldn’t help but give him a smile of your own now, nodding and, after giving him a last look from head to toe, turning and finally stepping into your oh so dear apartment. Breathing in a deep much needed breath of air, you let yourself slowly sink down onto the floor while you used the door as support. When you touched the ground, you covered your face with your hands and let out a tiny scream. You were out of it. What’s the first thing you think of when held half captive by the mafia? Ask out one of it’s members because you think he’s cute. That’s it, you’d lost it, this was it.

You got up and decided to take a shower, taking your mind off things for a while and, inevitably, due to the intense distress your emotions had suffered for the past hours, you flopped down into your bed and fell asleep, not minding it being early in the afternoon.

When you woke up the next morning, you did not expect to wake up to three text messages from an unsaved number and for it to be already 1 in the afternoon. Checking the messages, you jumped from your bed and ran to the door, poorly fixing your hair on the way and thankful your door led to the apartment’s first floor hallway and not the street, you couldn’t have handled well being seen in this state.

“Hey! Guido Mista here, I hope you slept well and feel better today!”

“I’ll be out on errands today, so maybe you’d like to meet tomorrow since I’m free?” 

“Anyways, hope you like what’s on your door!”

You opened the door and saw a medium sized box laying on the floor. Upon squatting down and ripping it open easily by the adhesive tape, you noticed its contents with a delighted smile dancing on your lips. There was a small bouquet of pretty (although fake) flowers inside, a beautiful pair of shoes and a very nice looking summer dress. There was a small envelope inside, which you took in your hands and noticed a messily written “from Italy’s best gunslinger to Y/N” 

“Hello! Good morning, Y/N. I hope you like the gifts! I noticed your shoes had gotten a bit ruined from last night, as well as your clothes getting dirtied because of me. I had a friend of mine help out with choosing them out, she’s really into fashion so I hope it’s good for you! Pd: The flowers are fake since I don’t know if you’re allergic to them yet, so I hope we get to talk about it tomorrow!”

You pressed the surprisingly thoughtful letter to your chest and rummaged through the box with your free hand, noticing they’d gotten your size perfectly and how high end the clothes looked. They really went all out huh? Did you even deserve this? You didn’t give it much more thought after taking the items out and quickly running to try them out into your bathroom.

You loved the outfit! So you decided to pay him back in the most humble way you could, which was inviting him over for dinner though text. You could manage to cook something nice if you put your mind to it!

“Hi! Loved the gifts! Please, do come over tomorrow night for dinner, I’ll make you something nice as payback” Upon receiving this message, Mista immediately grabbed his phone even if it almost meant throwing down all his grocery bags onto the floor. Checking it, he felt heat rising to his cheeks, because of course he had to take your message the other way around first. Upon re-reading it and getting a clearer mind, he replied. “See ya tmrrow night then, bella.”

When the sun had just set the next day, you heard your doorbell ring. You’d put on his wonderful gifts for your outfit and carefully done your hair for the occasion, making your way to the door with a small smile playing on your lips, you opened it to find him standing there, in casual attire you hadn’t seen on him before. Those tight ripped jeans went well with his figure, and seeing his hair for once was a wonderful change.

The night went way better than you’d expected, with a few flirty comments here and there being exchanged between each other, you talked about your likes and dislikes, your lives, the music you liked... oh! The music you liked!

When you were done with dinner, Mista got up and walked up to your seat, holding out a hand for you while bowing reverently at you with a playful smile on his face. “Would you offer me a dance, signorina?”  You giggled, holding his hand only to be pulled into his arms and getting spun around in place while he laughed. When you got back on your feet, placing your hands on his chest and pushing his figure gently away from yours, you gave him a playful bow while holding your dress up by the sides and replied. “A minute, my dearest, for I must firstly play some sweet tunes.” He let out an amused snort and rested his back on the nearest wall, watching you make your way to your laptop and, knowing his tastes, playing one of your favorites from Whitney Houston. 

Making your way to him while dancing, he quickly beamed at you and, in two quick strides, he caught up to you, placing one hand on your hip and the other searching for your other hand.

While you danced and laughed like teens in love, with Whitney singing a very cheery “I wanna dance with somebody” in the background, you got to a point in which Mista’d spun you around and let you drop, holding you tight by your waist to avoid you actually falling. His other hand holding yours in his splayed to the side. 

Your faces were close, and your breathing clashed in a most wonderful way. He let his eyelids close halfway, giving you a tiny smirk as he gently placed his forehead in yours. You blushed, chuckling quietly at the gesture and placing the hand you previously had on his hip, up to the back of his head, gently tugging on his hair and brushing your lips with his. “Just do it already, Guido.” You heard him huff out a content “hmph” and promptly pressed his thick lips against yours, in a much more dedicated manner you’d expected from him.

From the moment he’d felt you kiss him back, and by the way he’d gently laid you down into the floor carefully, standing on his knees and slowly sliding one of his warm palms up on your thigh, you knew what was in store for the rest of the night. Ironically enough, Maneater had started playing when your dress was halfway lifted up, which made you both chuckle into each other’s lips.

Next morning, you can’t seem to find him anywhere, only to be surprised by him getting out of your shower and shyly smiling at you while looking somewhere close to the feet of the bed. “Good morning, tesoro.” He was so adorable it physically hurt you and made you hold a hand tightly to your chest. After he’d changed back into his clothes from yesterday and watched you change with an amused, flirty smile on his face, you both went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast before he had to leave for work.

You make breakfast together while Sweet Caroline plays, which ends up in you both dancing in the kitchen and almost letting the pancakes get burnt.

When it’s all done and ready, he departs from you with a kiss. “See you as soon as I’m allowed to, bella.” You both knew you’d meet up often in this manner from now on.

One day, while you chilled sitting in the balcony, he’d ask. “Hey, Y/N, not to like, ruin the moment but, are we like, dating or something like that?” You’d start laughing really loudly, getting up from your seat and sitting on his lap, planting a kiss to his lips and chuckling. “What do you think, dumbass.” He chuckled and kissed you back once more, giving a tiny nod in response. “Yeah, just needed the reassurance.”

When dating, he just really loves to show you off to absolutely everyone. He’ll pick you up and spin you around while showering you in kisses, kiss you while holding you in his arms, dramatic old style with one leg sticking out; in public or in private, this man is all about showering you with love.

When outside, he’s always holding your hand, or letting you cling to his arm, whatever that means you not leaving his side.

He’s really into going out and doing stuff! Get ready for lots of shopping with a very enthusiastic judge per boyfriend giving you a thumbs up and whistling with each outfit you try on. As well as beach activities in summer! He’ll buy you tickets for those boat rides that pull you from an inflatable and throw you into the water when they turn around. He lives for that sweet adrenaline with his girlfriend by his side.

The way you don’t bite your tongue and are so straightforward with your emotions and thoughts? Drives him wild. He lives for that clashing personality of yours, he even admits to have been turned on sometimes when you yelled at him for whatever he’d pulled; being either mixing his red pants with your white blouse in the washing machine, or not lowering the toilet seat after he’s done.

You’re so cute? So petite so adorable and so hot? How did he land this wonderful girlfriend?? He still asks himself this every morning he gets to wake up next to you, pulling you close into his arms and cuddling you until it’s time to inevitably get up and be productive.

This is the type of boyfriend to send you flowers every day he’s away and bring you breakfast when you’re together. The type to get over his fear of bugs and rid of the spiders and roaches for you. The type to try his best to make you lunch on weekends after letting you sleep in, only for it to turn out horrible and order your favorite takeout. A sweet, disaster type of boyfriend that loves you unconditionally. And that would stay by your side for as long as you’d let him.

Ghiaccio!

You’re one big challenge, and he likes himself a nice assiduous challenge once in a while, it amuses him, and that’s how you catch his eye at first. A smart, banter partner. 

Overtime and seeing how you retorted to his constant screaming and rage outbursts, he started to quiet a little, feeling how he’d met someone who would not back down even when they clashed with him. He started to like you, your strong personality was a rare thing to find nowadays.

He’s not really into PDA, but when you’re alone? He will and when I say he will I mean he w i l l have his hands all over you or just carry you around or hold you close just to be touching you constantly. He didn’t get much physical affection for a long time, and besides, you were warmer in comparison to him, your body heat felt most wonderful against his. 

As an expert butt lover connoisseur, he really wants to touch that wonderful cute round rear you have, one day describing it to you as “geometrical and biologically absolutely perfect”. He was kind of a dork, but you found it adorable no matter.

He’s very, very overprotective. That’s why he won’t let you come over to the office under absolutely no circumstances. What, letting his wonderful girlfriend come see him at the risk of getting bothered or even so much as talked to by his dumbass teammates? Not a chance!

He’ll never say the classic three words (I love you), but he’ll make sure to communicate it through his actions and small details here and there. “I was worried about you”, “I missed you”, “This made me think of you”, “You can have my last slice”, etc.

He really likes to wake you up in the middle of the night (which honestly, at first, irritates you, but you forgive him after) and suggest for you to hop on the car and go for a ride wherever, to have fun. Most times you’ll end up in an empty parking lot near the beach staring up at the starry sky and with his hands wrapped around your waist, as you comfortably sit in his lap and rest your head on his chest. 

On your sleepless nights, you’ll curl up together in the sofa and watch a marathon of Pixar movies, whilst he criticizes whatever flaw his analytic gaze finds. At first, just because that’s how he is, after a few sessions, he just did it as an excuse to get you to shut him up with those wonderful kisses you gave him, followed by a sweet “Shut up and watch the movie, caro mio.” 

He’ll read your writings when you offer him the opportunity sometimes. And, much to your surprise, he will never criticize them! He just reads them in silence, and when he’s done, he always says the same “It’s wonderful amore, you’re really talented.” And places a small kiss on the top of your nose as he volts back into his seat and types away on his keyboard once more. He’s always so overloaded with work it kind of saddens you, but still, he always makes some time for you, and you see that. You appreciate that greatly.

Get ready for late night conversations about the most variate topics. 

“Hey, do you think pigeons dream?” “Well, Y/N amore, it could be, due to the fact that pigeons do, like you; even if sometimes it’s not that clear, have a brain, and usually, brain owners do have the ability to dream.” “Did you just insult me and call me an airhead whilst debating if pigeons have the ability to dream?” “You know I say it out of love.” “Well, you’re ugly when you scowl.” “Excuse me wHAT-” You’d laugh and roll over in bed to hug him and bury your face on the crook of his neck, nuzzling your nose gently against it. “An eye for an eye.” He’d huff and blush slightly, holding you tenderly back and pressing his cheek on the top of your head. “Fair enough.”

#ciaossu-daphs #guido mista #ghiaccio #jojosthetic-boogaloo #matchup #matchup request #moodboard matchup

[aliciameade]

Fade Into You - Ch. 2

Title: Fade Into You (Chapter 2 of 5) Author: aliciameade Rating: T Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Tip for newlyweds: send a wedding invite to every billionaire whose address you can find because it's a 50/50 chance their assistants just send you a perfunctory gift without ever wondering who the hell you are. Or: Beca had a really good terrible idea when she got tired of being broke in New York.

Also on AO3 and FFnet, but I probably can’t link there idk.

(Chapter 1)

Amy unsurprisingly declared her ignorance of the invitation situation when Beca confronted her, stating she assumed they’d added their parents and the Bellas to their list as a joke, or a way to get more free stuff.

There wasn’t much Beca could say to that. It wasn’t Amy’s fault the list was wrong.

~ ~

~ ~

Two days later when Beca opened their mailbox, she pulled out one of their returned RSVP cards.

From Glen Hauenstein, the President of Delta Airlines.

“Holy shit.” She rushed up the stairs and almost fell through the door in her haste. In the absolute chaos they’d created in their personal lives, she’d forgotten what had started it: one teeny tiny gigantically unethical idea.

“Hey, you,” Chloe said with a calm smile over a cup of tea.

Beca held up the envelope. “Someone replied.”

“Oh, my God! Who?” Chloe set down her cup and rushed to join Beca still standing barely inside the door.

“Delta.”

“Shut UP!” Chloe said with a shove to Beca’s shoulder. It was so hard it actually threw Beca against the door. “Sorry. Let’s open it,” she said as she snatched the envelope out of Beca’s hand and ripped open its seal. She pulled out the RSVP card. “Glen regrets to inform us that he cannot attend,” Chloe said with a grin as she waved the card in front of Beca’s face.

“Oh, thank God,” Beca said with a sigh of relief.

“Wait; there’s something else in here.” Chloe reached back into the envelope to pull out what looked like a blue credit card. “Beca…”

“What? What is it?”

“It’s a five thousand dollar Delta gift card.”

Beca dropped her purse. “What?!” She grabbed the card out of Chloe’s hand and flipped it over. Surely, it had to be fifty dollars, or maybe five hundred, but… “Holy shit. Holy shit!” She threw it across the room like it was on fire.

“No! Don’t lose it!” Chloe chased after it and found it where it had slid under the edge of their bed.

“We can’t keep that, Chloe!”

“Well, it’s not like we can send it back!”

“Yes, we can!” Beca said, clapping with each word to make her point. “That was the plan. We can send something back with the sad news of our break-up and it’s all fixed!”

“He runs the airline, baby. It’s not like this actually cost him anything.”

Beca was about to reply when Chloe’s statement resonated with her—one word in particular. She grit her teeth. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Chloe sat down on their bed and kicked her feet excitedly. “And now we know it works!”

Beca rolled her eyes at how fucking cute she was being. She knew this was bad. It was so, so bad. But Chloe liked it. Chloe wanted to pretend to be engaged a little longer and...Beca was good with that. She took off her shoes to cross the room and climb onto the bed and flop into her spot. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to hell for this.”

Chloe giggled and turned to crawl over until she was dropping down to kiss Beca’s cheek. “I’m going anyway. It’ll be nice to have you there with me.”

Beca felt herself blush at the thoughts that flooded her imagination as to what Chloe could have done to warrant her confidence in her afterlife.

“So, where would we go? If we keep it, I mean.”

“Apparently, we’re going to Fiji if we don’t stop this runaway train.”

Chloe shrugged next to her. “I’ll take care of it.”

~ ~

~ ~

More RSVPs trickled in over the next couple of weeks. Cousins and coworkers who could not attend. Parents who would. Bellas who would. CEOs who regretfully couldn’t. And it was never the right time to call off the wedding—someone else was going through a break-up, or was sick, or a mom had a bad day at work.

There was always a reason. The one time Chloe couldn’t come up with one, Beca blurted some lie about her dad and Sheila starting couples therapy that day so they absolutely could not do it then.

Their fake wedding was two weeks away and neither of them had figured out how to call it off.

It was Saturday afternoon when someone buzzed their door.

“UPS!” crackled through when Beca asked who it was and she buzzed them up.

“What did you order?” she said when she dropped the delivered Amazon box onto the bed where Chloe sat.

“Nothing.” She looked up at Beca and Beca knew what she was thinking. “Get the scissors; let’s open it!”

Beca rushed to grab them from the drawer and returned to slice the tape. She let Chloe pop the sides open and pull out a rectangular package wrapped in white and silver paper. There was a slip of paper with it and she read, “To Chloe and Beca. May you live happily ever after. I’m so sorry I cannot make it to your special day, but I will be with you in spirit. Never stop singing your love to each other. Congratulations. Love, Mrs. Higgins. Oh, my God, Mrs. Higgins!” she added with a squeal. “Should we open it? Or should we wait until after the wedding?”

“Chloe,” Beca said slowly. “There’s not going to be a wedding. Remember?”

“Oh, right. I didn’t mean...nevermind. So should we open it?”

Beca sighed and sank onto the bed. This ruse was taking a serious toll on her morals even if it was pervertedly fun and exciting. “I guess?”

Chloe tore into the paper with another squeal to reveal the set of eight hundred-thread count navy blue Egyptian cotton sheets from their registry. “Oh, heck yes!” she said with a grin as she tossed the package in the air. “I’m going to go wash these and they’re going on our bed tonight.”

Beca expected to have a fitful rest when she slid into the luxuriously silky sheets that they basically stole. But when Chloe slid up behind her and draped her arm over her waist while she kissed Beca’s shoulder, she forgot, at least for a little bit, that what they were doing was wrong.

Because something about it all felt so right.

~ ~

~ ~

“Remember how you were going to call off the wedding?” Beca asked as she zipped her suitcase while sipping from her fresh cup of coffee thanks to her new Keurig. They’d be in a cab to the airport in the next fifteen minutes for a two-week trip to Fiji, courtesy Delta Airlines and the Mitchell and Beale families.

Somehow an entire wedding got planned without either of them having to lift a finger (thanks, Aubrey), everything from rehearsal to dinner to the photographer to the ceremony and reception and the week-long honeymoon that the Bellas all chipped in for: a private bungalow on a neighboring island away from their guests.

“Yeah, you two are a regular Bonnie and...Bonnie,” Amy said as she sat on her suitcase and waved Beca over to zip it.

“Thanks again for your help, Ames.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She watched Chloe double-check the garment bag that contained their dresses. Beca didn’t even remember how it happened; one afternoon they were drinking white wine and suddenly they were in Macy’s picking out dresses suitable for an island wedding. “I will. But let’s get to Fiji first. We’ll announce it at the rehearsal dinner and then we can run off and do our own thing for the rest of the trip.”

“I seriously can’t believe we’re doing this. What is wrong with us?” Beca asked as she shoved her various chargers into her carry-on and made sure her passport was in her purse.

“We’re seizing the day.” Chloe swatted her ass with her own passport before putting it away and opening the door. “Let’s go get married.”

“We’re not getting married!” Beca had to say it for herself as much as for Chloe, it seemed. And that was a little...confusing for Beca.

“You know what I mean. Now, let’s go!”

~ ~

~ ~

Twenty hours on an airplane was a lot, even with two stops along the way. The longest break was in Los Angeles and that was after a paltry six-and-a-half hour flight. Beca didn’t even need to stretch her legs yet.

It wasn’t all bad, though.

It was nice being upgraded to First Class when they checked in. They’d done it at a self-serve kiosk only for it to send them to the counter. The agent informed them that as a guest of the airline, they would be upgraded. Chloe had looked at Beca with such shock that Beca had to be the one to thank the agent and take their new boarding passes for seats 3A and 3B.

“Uh, excuse me? What just happened?” Amy asked from where she waited behind them.

“We got bumped to First Class,” Beca said, still feeling woozy from it. “I guess because we booked the tickets with the gift card? Whatever; let’s go before they change their mind.”

“You bitches,” Amy grumbled. “You better bring a hot towel back to me in steerage.”

It was nice to not have to sit sandwiched between Chloe and Amy for twenty hours. It was nice to hear Chloe tell the flight attendant they were wedding-bound, even if it was just a ploy to get free champagne (which would have been free anyway because they were in First Class, but Chloe seemed tickled to share the information regardless).

It was nice to have Chloe flip the armrest up between them to lean over and snuggle into Beca while they both settled to sleep for as much as the trans-Pacific journey as possible. Beca moved her arm to put it around Chloe’s waist so she could pull her in closer. And it was nice.

~ ~

~ ~

“Oh, hell no,” Beca said when she stepped onto the tarmac in Nadi for their connection to Savusavu and saw what was waiting for them. “That’s a fake airplane. Can it even carry our baggage?”

“Well, we all know you have enough emotional baggage for the three of us,” Amy said under her breath and Beca ignored her.

“It’ll be fine, Becs,” Chloe said as she nudged her to start walking toward the plane, which only had six windows along its fuselage.

“I really don’t want to die before our fake wedding.” She let the man waiting by the door help her up the two steps and into the tiny aircraft. She even had to duck so her head wouldn’t hit the ceiling and she yelped when someone grabbed her from behind.

“I promise not to let anything bad happen to you,” Chloe said into her ear before kissing her cheek and peeling off to sit.

It was single seating along the sides of the plane which, by Beca’s count, could seat twelve people. There were only five aboard: their party of three and what appeared to be a couple based on how affectionate they were being even across the narrow aisle between their seats. Chloe seemed to notice them, too, because she reached across the aisle to find and hold Beca’s hand.

~ ~

~ ~

Just as Aubrey said would happen, there was a van waiting for them when they landed at Savusavu Airport. Beca wasn’t sure how she survived that last leg of the journey between the trying take-off (seriously, it sounded like the engines had asthma) and landing on what amounted to little more than a dirt road. She’d sweat through the back of her tee and it hadn’t been that warm on the plane.

“You okay?” Chloe said with amusement as she plucked Beca’s shirt from where it clung to her skin while they climbed into the van. “You made it in one piece. Told you I’d take care of you.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled but couldn’t help but smile a little at the way Chloe looped their arms together to sit close. It seemed the other couple from the plane wasn’t traveling to their resort and the three of them had the van to themselves.

“Ladies, welcome,” their driver said. “My name is James. I’ll be taking you out to Koro Sun. Vijay will make sure you are comfortable.” He nodded at the man who’d placed their baggage in the back of the van. He was now armed with a tray of rolled white cloths.

“Chilled towel?” he said with a subtle accent as he offered one to Amy with a pair of tongs.

“Ooh, don’t mind if I do,” she said as she promptly unfurled it and put it under her shirt where Beca knew it was getting tucked under her boobs.

“Yeah, thanks,” Beca said after Chloe had accepted hers. She was still working on unrolling it to dab at her face when she hissed at cold landing on the back of her neck.

“You seem to need it more than I do,” Chloe whispered as she massaged her neck a little through the cool cloth. “Ooh, drinks!”

Beca blinked out of the daze she’d been put into to find a green coconut with the top cut off and a brightly colored straw and tiny umbrella sticking out of it. “Is there alcohol in that?” she asked as the man prepared to hand one to her.

“No, but I’m happy to add some.” He was reaching for a bottle of something dark from a spot next to their seat and pouring before she’d even agreed.

“Thanks,” she said when he finally passed it to her. She took a long, long drink. It was amazing. And much-needed.

“Yeah, I’ma need you to hit me up with a spot of that,” Amy said, stretching her arm out and waving her coconut in Vijay’s face.

“Me, too, please,” Chloe said with a polite smile. “Good idea, babe.”

Beca shrugged and took another sip. “When in Rome.”

“Yeah, Shawshank? I thought Chloe was the one who failed Maps? We’re in Fiji. Not Spain.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed to herself. She was in Fiji...to not get married.

What the everloving fuck?

~ ~

~ ~

“Okay, ladies, here we are! Welcome to Koro Sun Resort.”

Beca peered out the dark window of the van. Despite the tint, it was clear they were deeply in paradise. She could tell the water was blue, or maybe even turquoise. There were trees everywhere and if there weren’t trees there were beaches. Pure, white sandy beaches.

“Coming through! Ladies first!” Amy announced as soon as Vijay opened their door. Beca watched her march toward what appeared to be the main entrance.

“After you,” Beca said with a nod to Chloe.

“Oh, wow,” Chloe said once she was standing outside the van. “Becs, hurry up.” She reached back and took Beca’s hand to pull her out. “Look at this.”

“Oh...wow,” Beca echoed. It was...beyond anything she could imagine. It smelled like rain and flowers and the sea and the only things she could hear were the breeze, birds, and what sounded like a waterfall. She felt Chloe’s arm around her waist.

“This is so romantic,” Chloe said quietly. “Come on; let’s go check in. I want to see our room. Aubrey said it’s an ‘Edgewater Villa.’”

~ ~

~ ~

True to its name, their private villa was situated against the edge of a lagoon inset from the ocean. They had to get to the front door via a footbridge over a private pool through a garden.

“Okay, I’m here for this,” Beca said as she made her way through the house. It was epically luxurious without crossing the line into tacky territory. Everything felt organic, made from stone and woven plant fibers with windows everywhere to remind them they were surrounded on three sides by water (the fourth was curtained by the rainforest).

Chloe stopped in the kitchen to see what was stocked for them in the refrigerator so Beca kept going until she found a bedroom.

“Oh...right,” she said to herself as she dropped her carry-on on a chair.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe said from behind her before joining her in the center of the room.

“Nothing,” Beca said quickly. “I just...nevermind. It’s dumb.”

Chloe ran her fingers up Beca’s back to make her scrunch up her shoulders. “I’m sure it’s not dumb. Tell me.”

Beca sighed and gestured at the singular king-sized bed. “I was just surprised is all.”

Chloe smiled and gave her a tug toward the bed. “What—because there’s only one bed? Did you forget we sleep with each other every night? Don’t get shy on me now.”

“No,” Beca mumbled. Her face felt hot at Chloe’s choice of words. She let Chloe pull her along until they were both crawling up the bed to flop on their backs to try it out.

“See?” Chloe reached her arm out across the ample space between them. “Way more room than our bed at home. And comfier,” she added as she wriggled around until she was basically wrapped around Beca to defeat her own point of having more space. “Besides, we’re getting married.” Chloe poked Beca’s cheek and then kissed it. “It’s a little late to not want to sleep with me.”

“We’re not getting married.” Beca turned her head and looked down her nose at the bright eyes and giddy smile looking back at her and she shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mm, anything you want,” Chloe said before kissing her cheek again and then leaping off the bed. “C’mon! There’s a ladder right off our balcony that takes us down to the water! We need to go swimming!”

Beca cleared her throat and sat up to watch Chloe throw open one of her suitcases and pull out a white bikini and start stripping right there in plain sight. “Yeah, I just…” She gawked when Chloe’s bra came off despite her back being turned toward Beca and having seen it a thousand times already. “I just need a minute after that flight.”

~ ~

~ ~

“Should we be concerned we haven’t seen Amy since we got here?” Beca asked as she combed out her wet hair.

Chloe’s own wet hair thwacked her arm as she flipped it over to put some type of product in it. They were wearing matching white bathrobes fresh from their showers. “She probably has a new boyfriend fanning her with palm fronds in her private courtyard. I wouldn’t worry about her.”

Beca snorted and reached for her moisturizer. “So what’s the deal—do we need to make reservations for dinner? I don’t want to have to wait for a table. I’m fucking tired. What time is it at home?”

“We’re eighteen hours behind New York.”

She glanced at a clock on the wall of the ensuite bathroom and did the math. “So, midnight. Cool.”

“I know; I’m tired, too. But we have to hold out as long as we can to get switched over. I don’t want to be jet-lagged all week when we only have two weeks here.” Chloe’s hair whipped her again as she straightened.

“So, reservations?” Beca reminded as she watched Chloe get the part in her hair straight.

“Oh! No, we don’t need to make reservations. Bree said we get VIP treatment because of our wedding.”

“Right.” Beca looked at their reflections in the wide mirror and Chloe smiled at her through it. She wondered for the umpteenth time how they let this charade get this far. But they were there, so she decided to make the most of it while it lasted. “I’m not going to blow-out my hair. Or put on makeup tonight,” she said as though declaring world peace. “We don’t know anyone here, so fuck it.”

Chloe laughed and bumped her hip with her own. “You don’t need it anyway.”

Beca blushed and reached for her eyeliner as she leaned in toward the mirror.

“You just said you aren’t wearing makeup tonight.”

She paused and looked at Chloe through the mirror again. “This doesn’t count.”

Chloe just shook her head at her and turned to leave. “I’m going to get dressed. Meet me out front.”

“Sure.” She watched Chloe walk away for a second too long because she saw her drop her robe right before she was completely out of sight in their bedroom. It made her hand too unsteady to get her eyeliner on straight so she tossed it back in her bag. “Fuck it.”

~ ~

~ ~

Once again as Aubrey had promised, they were treated as honored guests as soon as Beca gave the maître d′ her name. Dinner was exquisite, a three-course meal that Beca could only assume was locally sourced.

They were strolling along a path, going opposite the way they came so they could explore a little when the thumping rhythm of bass started mixing with the natural sounds of the environment.

“Do you hear that?” Chloe asked just as Beca noticed it.

“Yeah. It sounds like it’s ahead of us. Let’s check it out.”

They kept walking until they found the source: the resort’s nightclub. “Ooh, a bar! C’mon, I need something fruity with an umbrella in it,” Chloe said with a mischievous smile as she grabbed Beca’s hand to head toward the club.

They were carded at the door—probably Beca’s fault—but as soon as Chloe showed her ID they were both waved through with enthusiastic greetings and shown to a small high-top table marked with a Reserved sign and a waiter descended upon them before they’d even finished hopping onto their stools.

“Welcome to Latitude 17, ladies,” a handsome man wearing a tropical flower-covered shirt said as he placed a pair of napkins on the table. “Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. We’re so happy you chose to spend it with us.”

“Thank you!” Chloe said. “So are we!”

Beca held her tongue; there was no need to tell this stranger they weren’t going to go through with it.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Something tropical,” Chloe answered. “And strong.”

“Me, too,” Beca added. “And make sure hers has a tiny umbrella in it. Please.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod before disappearing toward the bar.

“Okay, I could get used to this,” Chloe said as her hand patted Beca’s knee.

Beca noticed she didn’t remove it once the patting stopped. She hoped their drinks would arrive as quickly as they were seated. “Yeah, same.” She looked around the bar and its tropical theme, hibiscus and greenery everywhere, even hanging from the DJ booth on the other side of the room. It was perfect, and being treated like royalty wasn’t too shabby either. “Is this the only bar in the place I wonder?”

“I haven’t looked at the map yet, so I don’t know. Why?”

“Because Amy’s not here, so there must be another,” she said with a smile and it sent Chloe into a fit of giggles. “Okay, calm down. You’re not even drinking yet; it wasn’t that funny.” She’s not quite sure why she would ever tell Chloe to stop laughing; she looked beautiful when she laughed.

“Maybe she’s not finished with her new boyfriend yet. Ooh!”

Beca turned at Chloe’s excitement to see their waiter returning with two fancy and fruity-looking pink drinks in hand. They both had tiny umbrellas and wedges of pineapple on the rims.

“Mai tais for the lovely ladies in love,” he said with a grand smile as he placed the glasses on the table. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks!” Chloe said as she picked hers up right away. “What should we toast to?”

Beca was slow to respond, still hearing the waiter’s words pinballing around in her brain. “Um,” she said as she picked up her drink and turned to face Chloe. She hoped her undue nerves weren’t obvious.

“I know! To you,” Chloe said before tapping her glass to Beca’s.

“Why me?” she asked before Chloe got the straw to her lips.

Chloe smiled at her. “Because we wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“Don’t remind me,” Beca said as she rolled her eyes. The guilt came in waves and she felt it rolling in.

“No, no. Stop it,” Chloe said firmly. “We’re in this amazing place and I wouldn’t change it for the world. We’ll deal with our little...situation when the time comes. Let’s just enjoy this while we can, okay?” She punctuated her request with her sad puppy eyes and as usual, it rendered Beca helpless in arguing.

She felt a smile tug at her lips and it made Chloe’s grow until they were grinning at each other. “Fine!” she said. “To me!”

They tapped their glasses again and drank, both wincing at the same time.

“Okay, when I said strong…” Chloe said with a strained voice.

Beca coughed. “They listened.” It burned. And it was delicious. “Here,” she said as she plucked the paper umbrella out of her glass to drop it into Chloe’s. “Since you love them so much.”

Chloe squealed at the addition and took another long sip. “Hurry up and drink that. I want to dance.”

Beca just laughed and shook her head. “Of course you do. And I’m trying! This isn’t really something I can chug.”

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her heart sank to her feet. “Chlo—no. That’s not—no.”

“On the count of three! One—”

It was Chloe’s favorite thing. Challenge Beca to a drinking contest. She figured out the little game years ago for the sole purpose of getting Beca drunker, but Beca participated in it nonetheless because competition ran in their blood. “No, I can’t, I’m not even drunk yet—”

“Two—”

“I wasn’t—”

“Three!”

“No! Baby, I wasn’t trying to—shit!” She threw the straw out of her glass to bring it to her lips and start. It burned and made her eyes water and when she slammed her glass down as carefully and victoriously as she could, saw that Chloe hadn’t even started. She was just staring at her over her untouched glass. “What happened?” Beca said with a laugh. “I’m not the only one getting drunk tonight. Go!”

Chloe’s eyelashes fluttered and then she was drinking until there was nothing but ice in her glass. Her face was flushed when she set it down. “Okay. Come dance.” Chloe grabbed Beca’s hand to drag her off her stool and toward the dance floor.

It wasn’t like Beca was resisting, though; she just wasn’t as quick as Chloe off her seat so she ended up being dragged along trying to catch up until Chloe finally stopped in the middle of the semi-crowded dance floor and turned around to face her, already moving to the beat. Beca didn’t know the song but it had a smooth house beat that wasn’t too fast for her liking. It was easy to slide into the rhythm and soon they were dancing in sync.

She and Chloe had spent countless hours on dance floors together over the years. Dancing with Chloe was as natural as breathing for Beca, though it had taken most of their first year as friends to reach that point.

Now she had no hesitations about reaching out and pulling Chloe against her after she’d turned her back to Beca. Her blood was warm and watching Chloe’s hips in her tight white capris wasn’t helping the matter so she decided to own it and wrap her arm around Chloe’s waist while their hips rocked together.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder at the contact and Beca could tell she was warm, too. The alcohol was probably starting to work its magic on her as well, Beca figured, as she winked at Chloe.

She wasn’t really trying to convey anything with it. Nothing more than a message that she was having fun. But it seemed to translate a little differently for Chloe because suddenly she was turning in Beca’s hold to drape an arm over Beca’s shoulder while the other wrapped around her waist to pull their bodies even closer.

They were close enough that Beca could smell the rum on her breath. It felt infinitely hotter on the dance floor and she was sure Chloe could feel the way her lower back was sweating through the thin material of her tank top. She was grateful she had opted for shorts because she was sure she’d be dead if she’d worn jeans.

She was also sure she should be dead from how intensely Chloe was looking at her. They were just dancing; there was no need for her to make that much eye contact. Yet, she was, and Beca wasn’t sure her heart was up to the task of dealing with it. It was really being put through its paces with how Chloe’s gaze kept drifting to what Beca thought might be her lips, though it was equally possible she was looking at, like, her chin. Or her cleavage, which Beca knew was readily visible in the low scoop neck of her top. She knew if she glanced down, she’d have a good view of Chloe’s, too, thanks to her halter top.

She pulled away as soon as the thought crossed her mind. “I need another drink!” she explained when Chloe looked at her questioningly. She was desperate for space but she didn’t get much; Chloe grabbed her hand to follow her off the floor and back to their table. Beca didn’t sit and neither did Chloe; instead, Chloe stood impossibly close to her until Beca had to tug her hand out of Chloe’s grip to sling her arm around her waist instead.

That seemed to make Chloe happy and she did the same, her fingers tucked into the front pocket of Beca’s denim shorts.

“Where’s our guy?” Beca asked as she looked around the room to get her brain and body to cool off.

“There he is!” Chloe said as she hopped a little and waved him down. They had fresh mai tais in short-order.

“I’m not chugging this one,” Beca said as she picked up her glass.

“Wait!” Chloe said before she could take a drink. “We have to make a toast.”

“We already made a toast,” Beca said as she tried to angle herself so she could look at Chloe without being an inch from her face. “To me, remember?”

“That was my toast.” She felt fingers walk up her back and then glide down to hold her waist again. “It’s your turn.”

Beca just shook her head. She wasn’t going to argue it. “Okay, fine. To us.” She smiled and tapped her glass to Chloe’s and drank. She watched Chloe take a sip, too, on a delay again just as she had been when they were supposed to race.

She didn’t think too hard about why that was.

That was a hopeless path of pain to travel down.

Instead, she focused on how nice it was to be able to hold Chloe as she was and how Chloe was holding her the same way and allowed herself to indulge just a little bit in the fantasy they’d created for themselves. That she was at an island resort with her fiancée set to be married in two short days and—

She grabbed Chloe’s hand from around her waist and pulled it up to the table between them. “A ring!”

“What?”

“You don’t have an engagement ring!” She slapped her own left hand on the table, foregoing her hold on Chloe to do so. “Neither do I! If you proposed to me, I should have a ring. And so should you! I wouldn’t not give you a ring. People are going to expect to see them. They’re always obsessed with engagement rings.”

“We’ll just tell them we left them at home to not risk losing them.”

“No!” Beca said. It was loud enough that she saw Chloe flinch. “No,” she tried again. “We’re going to take the shuttle into town first thing in the morning before everyone shows up and we’re going to get engagement rings.”

Chloe’s hand turned to interlace with Beca’s. “That’s really sweet, but I don’t really have money for an engagement ring.”

“We’ll get fake ones. Or some kind of local thing and we’ll tell people we waited until we were here to get something to remember this by.” She watched Chloe’s face soften until it looked like she was maybe going to cry. “Dude, what?”

Chloe laughed a little and shook her head as she cradled Beca’s cheek with her free hand for a second. “You’re really a romantic, aren’t you.”

“What? No,” Beca said, offended for some reason as she tried to crane her neck away from the touch that felt like heaven.

“Yes, you are,” Chloe said firmly before leaning in to kiss Beca’s cheek. She seemed to hesitate before pulling back and Beca’s heart stopped. Then she moved in to kiss her again, this time close enough to the corner of Beca’s mouth to make her head swim. “Let’s finish our drinks so we can go to bed if we have to be up early to go ring shopping.”

“Yeah,” Beca croaked. “Okay.”

~ ~

~ ~

Beca fell asleep easily, sole credit to the jetlag.

But she woke up two hours later thinking it was time to get up for work only to check her phone to see that it was barely 1:00 am. Any other normal morning at home, she’d have rolled over and fallen right back asleep instead of getting up. But now her brain was awake on New York time and thinking about all the things that happened on their first day on the island.

Chloe changing into her bathing suit. Seeing Chloe drop her robe. Dinner and everyone treating them to the pinnacle of romance. The club. The way Chloe had looked at her, had danced with her, had almost kissed her. Well, she had kissed her, but it was an almost kiss. And the way Chloe had looked at her when she was blathering on and on about rings.

“Can’t sleep?” Chloe murmured next to her.

Her body must have been as restless as her mind. “I’m usually getting up for work right now.” She felt the bed shift and then Chloe’s arm slid around her middle, high enough that Beca had to stop the choking sound from escaping her throat because Chloe’s forearm was definitely touching Beca’s boobs. It was probably an accident, just a miscalculation of an angle, but Chloe didn’t correct it.

She felt lips against her bare shoulder next to the strap of her pajama tank and tried not to shiver. “Pretend you get to sleep in.”

“Trying,” she said with a sigh as she tried to clear her mind of everything yammering in her head.

“Nervous about seeing everybody tomorrow?”

She hadn’t been, but now that Chloe brought it up… “Yeah.”

Chloe squeezed her a little and the motion pushed her arm even more against her boobs. “It’ll be okay. We just have to act like we’re in love.”

Beca sighed but managed to smile a little into the darkness. “I don’t know how good at that I’ll be,” she said, knowing full well she was absolutely head over heels in love with Chloe and no acting would be necessary. She’d been acting like she wasn’t in love with her for years. It would come as a relief to not have to be in a constant mode of restraint. She could take her hand if she wanted, or hug her, or fetch her a fresh drink, or fix an errant lock of hair without raising suspicion.

Chloe chuckled behind her and gave her arm a wiggle. Beca knew it was only meant to jostle her but it scraped right up and over her barely clothed nipples and she shoved her face into her pillow to muffle her gasp.

“I’m pretty sure we know how to act like we’re in love.”

“Mhm,” Beca choked out.

“You know,” Chloe continued and Beca wished more than anything she was narcoleptic so she wouldn’t have to endure it any longer. Her arm started withdrawing and the relief it provided was short-lived because instead of her arm, Chloe’s hand rested on Beca’s stomach. It moved back and forth slowly and Beca wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair, and it was also wrong. She was getting painfully turned on when all Chloe was doing was being her usual touchy self. “People are going to expect us to kiss.”

Beca hadn’t considered that detail in the grand scheme of their scheme. The concept sucked every molecule of oxygen from her lungs. She tried to say, “Oh?” but it came out more like the squawk of one of the parrots she could hear in the trees behind their villa over the sound of the rain. She could feel Chloe’s breath on her shoulder and she twisted her pillow in her fist. It was pure agony.

“Mhm.”

She had to clear her throat because trying to speak failed the first time. “We’ll...cross that bridge when we get to it.” She felt Chloe’s lips on her shoulder again and had to stifle a shiver. The torture needed to end, and fast. “I, uh, think I can fall asleep now.”

“Okay. G’night.”

“Night.”

She didn’t fall asleep for hours.

~ ~

To be continued...

#bechloe #fade into you #fake dating au #fdau #fanfic #IT'S MIDNIGHT SO IT'S TOMORROW #ps getting real tired of my posts not showing up in the tag fix your crap tumblr

[peachiefics]

Candy Man

Pairing: Greaser!S. Coups x OC

Genre: 50s!AU; Fluff; Humor; Angst 

Word Count: 5,120

Warnings:  Lots of profanity; Racism (but nothing too descriptive and no slurs)

Synopsis: Young love is bitter-sweet, especially when everyone is against it.

Author’s Note:  Been having trouble with spacing lately, so bare with me.

     “Ayo, Coups!  You mind spottin’ me?” Mingyu asked, gesturing towards an apple on the produce vendor’s cart.  

    “I ain’t spottin’ shit; I lent you money last week.”

   “Fine,” the younger male snickered, plucking the bright red treat and taking a bite out of it before his superior could tell him to put it back.  

     “You better pay for that, you little thief!” the elderly owner exclaimed.

   “Cool it, Mr. Jung.  We don’t want no trouble,” S. Coups said, clearly amused at the thought of this old man threatening his able-bodied friend.  Taking a coin out of his pocket, he flicked it in the air, making it an easy catch for the gray-haired shop keep.  

     “You’re alright, Choi.  Those other ones you hang out with?  Not so much.”  

   “Eh, what can ‘ya do?” the black-haired boy shrugged with a sly grin before running off to join his friends down the street.  “Have a nice day, Mr. Jung!”

     “Have a nice day, Mr. Jung!” Mingyu mocked as S. Coups caught up.  

    “We don’t want no trouble, Mr. Jung!” Vernon chimed in with the same tone.  

    “Ayo, shut the fuck up!” S. Coups laughed.  

     “You should thank him for covering for you. Being a jackass doesn’t get you anywhere or anything,” Wonwoo informed the two younger boys.  

    “It got me this apple,” Mingyu countered, taking a bite for emphasis.   

    “And it almost got you a cap in the ass.  I swear Mr. Jung is packin’,” S. Coups said with a nudge to the boy’s side.  

     “Wonwoo with his books and you with your manners think you’re so fucking great, huh?” 

    “Well, I can’t speak for Wonwoo, but my manners are what got me a game of backseat bingo with Hyojin last weekend while you were at home twiddlin’ your dick,” the eldest smirked, causing everyone else to laugh.

     More playfully careless banter was exchanged between the four friends as they approached the bus stop.  “Alright, now if they say anything to you, don’t respond,” S. Coups ordered, upon seeing a few white kids waiting there.

   “I ain’t no candyass, Coups,” Vernon muttered.  

    “Don’t say another fucking thing.  You almost got us killed last time.”

     The four boarded the bus in silence, ignoring the few white kids that made snide comments or spat slurs.  “They’ve run out of original material.  Ain’t that a bite,” Wonwoo said under his breath.  

     “The fuck did you just say?” one blonde haired boy asked.

   “You heard me.”  

    Before the blonde boy could answer, the bus door opened again and a girl with warm brown skin and coiled black hair walked on, clutching a few grocery bags to her chest.  By the time she made it halfway to the back, the four Asian boys had become old news.  Even more people shouted at her while making obscene hand gestures, but she simply kept her eyes on the back window.  

     S. Coups’ eyes followed her from the moment she stepped on until the moment she sat down at the back of the bus.  He scanned over her features before moving down her body, only to be interrupted by a pluck on the head snapping him out of his trance.  

     “What are you looking at?” Vernon asked.

   “Huh? Oh, nothing,” S. Coups replied, pulling a lollipop out of his pocket and unwrapping it.

   “You were lookin’ at that black chick, weren’t you?” Mingyu said, already knowing the answer.  

    “Maybe so,” he shrugged, popping the candy into his mouth.  

     “You’re keen on a black girl?” Wonwoo asked.  

    “My god, guys, she’s black not a fuckin’ leper.  And yeah, I mean…She’s beautiful, and she’s-“  

  “Black.  She’s black, Coups,” Vernon interjected.  

    “You don’t like it when people judge the way you look, do you?” the eldest male reprimanded.

   “I’m not judging her, I’m just saying you’re asking for trouble.  Mrs. Choi would just about drop dead.”

   “Yeah, well you said that when I got my piercings and tattoos, but her heart’s still beatin’ ain’t it?”  

     The bus came to a sharp stop and their topic of discussion arose from her seat and walked towards the front of the bus to leave.  She made swift eye contact with S. Coups, and he swore on his great grandfather’s grave that she smiled at him.  He got up as she passed him and turned to look at his friends, giving them a salute and sideways smile.  

    “You’re joking,” Mingyu deadpanned.  

   “Nah, I’ll leave the jokes to you Bozos,” the oldest responded with a laugh before leaving the group.  He gave them a small wave as they rode by him and tossed the stick from his candy on the ground before turning around to find the girl struggling with one of her bags.  Rushing to her side, he used his hand to support the bottom of it, startling her a bit.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.  It just looked like you needed some help,” he smiled.  

    “…Thanks,” she hesitantly replied.

    “I can carry one if you want.  They look kind of heavy.”  

    “Thank you kindly, but I can handle it,” she said defiantly.  Taking another step forward, she tripped over a rock, causing an apple to fall from one of her bags.  S. Coups caught it and placed it back on top.  

    “You can handle it, huh?” he chuckled.  

    She stopped in her tracks and looked at him almost incredulously.  “Why are you being nice to me?”  

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”  She simply rolled her eyes with a scoff.  

    “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not like that.”  She searched his face for any sign of deception or dishonesty and couldn’t seem to find one, so she reluctantly allowed him to help her.  

     “You got a name?” he asked, walking beside her.  

    “Annabelle.”  

    “Annabelle; that’s pretty.  I like it,” he smiled at the way her name rolled off his tongue.

   “What’s yours?” she asked in response.  

    “Coups.  S. Coups.”  

    “What kind of name is that?” she giggled.  

    “It’s my kind of name.  What, you don’t like it?”  She shook her head, laughing at his mockingly offended expression.  “Well, my real name’s Seungcheol, but let’s keep that between us.  Only you can call me that.”  

    “Well, don’t I feel special.”

     “You definitely should,” he chuckled.

     “Hey, we’ve been walking for a bit. Not that I mind the extra time with you, but why’d you get off the bus so far from your block?”  

    “Bus doesn’t ride through black neighborhoods.  I ‘spose you ain’t too keen on walking through one, neither?”  

    “I’m keen on you, so I’d follow you anywhere,” he smirked.  

    “You ‘bout as slick as that grease you slather your hair in,” she laughed.

     About a block later, she stopped again.  “Well, there’s my place right on that corner.”  

    “You don’t want me to walk you to your door, do you?”

   She paused for a moment before answering, “My mama would kill me if you strolled up to the door.”

     “I can’t even be upset, since mine would do the same if she saw you.  It’s because I’m Korean, right?”  

    “No, she’d say you look like a hoodlum,” she began, gesturing towards his outfit.  “But yours would say the same about me, so I guess we’re even.” 

    “Albeit for a completely different reason,” he muttered, shoving one hand into his pocket.  “So, what if I wanna see you again?”  

    “Like when?” she asked.

     “Like all the time, but we can start with tonight,” he replied with a crooked smile.

     She bit her lip in thought and S. Coups took note of how pretty her lips were.  “My mama’s usually in bed by the time the street lights come on.”

     “Great, I’ll pick you up at eight thirty.”

     Annabelle sat on her bed, waiting and thinking about all the things that could go wrong.  But just as the list got too long, she remembered that smile of his.  Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was eight twenty-five.  She hopped up from her bed and took a look in the mirror, fluffing her hair and applying a coat of lip balm.  Then she quietly made her way downstairs and out the door. 

     S. Coups popped another lollipop out of his mouth to greet her.  “You made it!” he smiled.  

    “What, did you think I would punk out?”  

    “I don’t know, but from what you told me, your mama’s kind of intimidating.  A real ‘no bs’ kinda gal.”  

    “Well, she is, but she worked a double yesterday, so she’s knocked out.  I wouldn’t chance anything by staying out too late, though.”

     “Don’t worry.  I’ll have you home well before she wakes up for her next shift.  Quick question…You afraid of motorcycles?”  

     “Careful, Sweetheart.  You hold me any tighter and I just might propose,” S. Coups laughed.

 “I wouldn’t be holding you so tight if you weren’t driving like a bat out of hell,” Annabelle replied, voice cracking when they hit a speed bump.  

    “Sorry ‘bout that. I hope your eyes are open, though, since you’re supposed to be giving me directions.”  

    “Oh, right…,” she muttered, opening her eyes to take a look around.  “Make a left at the next corner.”

     After a few more minutes, the vehicle came to a stop in a dimly lit neighborhood.  S. Coups got off the bike, locking it into place before offering a hand to his date.  Normally, she would have declined, but she was still a bit dizzy, so she accepted the gesture.  

    “Where are we?” he asked.  

    “You’ll see,” she smiled, tugging him down a small hill to a slightly worn-down building.

     She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before someone opened an eye level slot.  

    “Password?” questioned the pair of dark brown eyes.

    “SlimJim,” she answered confidently.  The door opened to reveal a black boy around their age.  He smiled at her but gave S. Coups a strange look as she pulled him through the room and down a flight of stairs to what he figured was the basement. The room was packed with black kids, all dancing and having a good time, the jukebox blasting the latest tunes.  A few came to greet Annabelle, and he got a couple stares every now and then, but overall, nobody paid him much attention.  

     Unwrapping a lollipop, he watched in amusement as she got pulled to the middle of the dance floor by two of her friends.  She was one hell of a dancer, and quite the social butterfly; he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She made everyone around her smile…including him.  

     “You aren’t gonna stand here all night, are you?” she asked, jogging back over to him during a song change.

   “I’m not much of a dancer,” he replied, shifting the candy to one side of his mouth as he leaned against a table.

   “That doesn’t matter to me. I brought you here to have fun.”  

    “I don’t know…,” he trailed off, contemplating whether he wanted to embarrass himself or not.

   “C’mon, Candy Man.  It’s just one dance,” she teased, gently tugging on the front of his shirt.

   “One dance?”

   “That’s all I want.  Besides, I’m sure that’s all you could handle,” she smirked.

  “Oh, really?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.  

    Crossing her arms, she replied, “Mhm.”  Without breaking eye contact, he slid his leather jacket off and placed it over a chair.  Taking a few steps back, she beckoned to him with her finger, that same playful smirk still gracing her features.

     “So, I was that bad, huh?” he asked as they walked back up the hill.

   “What?  No, of course not.  Why would you think that?”

  “Your friends were laughing.  They thought I was a total spaz, didn’t they?”  

  “…Well, yeah, but they thought you were a cute spaz,” she giggled.

   “I’ll take it.”

     Noticing a slight chill shake her shoulders, he wordlessly took off his jacket and draped it over them.  She simply smiled, knowing it was pointless to try to convince him that she didn’t need it.  “Thanks.”  

    “Don’t mention it,” he replied, nonchalantly sticking another lollipop into his mouth.

   “I swear you always got one of them suckers hangin’ from your mouth.”  

    “Better than a cig.  I quit a while back” he shrugged.

   “Can’t argue with that.  My friend told me kissing a boy who smokes is like kissing an ash tray,” she said, slightly leaning on his bike.  

    “Oh, really?” he asked with a raised eyebrow as he stepped closer to her.  

    “Mhm,” she mused, gently pulling the lollipop out of his mouth.  After looking into her eyes for a moment, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, tilting his head a little to deepen the kiss.  

     “What did that taste like?” he asked as he pulled away.

   “…Candy,” she smiled.  “What did it taste like to you?”  

  “Heaven,” he smirked, causing her to laugh and playfully roll her eyes.

 “These things must be the reason you do all that sweet talkin’,” she said, holding it out to him.

   He plucked it from her fingers and responded, “Maybe so,” before popping it back into his mouth.    

     Realizing that it was getting really late, S. Coups decided to take Annabelle home.  After a short ride back, he insisted on dropping her off at her door since everyone was asleep, anyway.  

     She took off the jacket and went to hand it to him, but he just raised his hand to stop her.  “Give it back to me on our second date.”

   “And what makes you think you’re getting a second date?” she inquired, folding her arms as her lips tilted into a smirk.

   “That kiss,” he said without hesitation, biting his bottom lip as he watched a blush tint her cheeks. 

     “Well, you have until then to practice your dance moves,” she quickly recovered.  

  “Will do.  Next weekend; you, me, and that dance floor.”  

  “Will I see you again before that?”

   “I’ll be around.  Why, would you miss me?” he teased.

     “No,” she scoffed, folding her arms.  

    “Well, that’s a shame, ‘cuz I’d miss you,” his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as he spoke.

    “Sweet as candy; slick as grease,” she chuckled, shaking her head.  

    “Yeah, but you like it,” he smirked, leaning in again.

   “Maybe so,” she quipped, giving him a light peck on the lips.  

    He released her and said, “I should probably get out of here before the parentals notice I’m still out.  Goodnight, Sweetheart.”  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out yet another lollipop and held it out to her.  With a grin and a light laugh, she accepted it.  

    “Goodnight, Candy Man.”

     “So, nothing happened?” Wonwwo asked.  

    “Nothing,” S. coups answered, tossing a white stick on the ground.  

    “Look at that shit-eatin’ grin!  He’s fuckin’ lyin’!” Mingyu laughed.  

     The four boys stopped at the produce cart again a few days later.  No matter how much poking and prodding his three friends did, they couldn’t get S. Coups to describe his night with his new love interest.  

     “Aye, Mr. Jung!  Can I get one of them roses over there, please?” he asked the owner.

   “Sure can.  For a special lady, I assume?”  The young boy simply winked and tossed a coin to the elderly man.  

    “Thanks, Mr. Jung,” he said before continuing to walk towards the bus stop.

     “’Nothing happened’ my ass!  Tell us what went down!” Vernon snickered, pushing his friend’s arm.

     “It’s none of your fuckin’ business,” S. Coups chuckled, pulling another piece of candy from his pocket.

     “So, explain how you ended up bringin’ that Chinese boy to the Juke,” Denise playfully demanded, leaning over the convenience store counter.

  “He’s not Chinese.  He’s Korean,” Annabelle absentmindedly replied as she flipped through a magazine. 

  “Whatever he is, he sure as hell can’t dance to save his life,” her friend laughed.  Annabelle rolled her eyes and closed the magazine before placing it back in the rack.

   “He can’t dance just because he can’t dance; not because he’s Asian.  And if you must know, we met on the bus.  He helped me with my groceries and walked me home.”  

     “Like all the way home?” her friend inquired.

   “Well…’til about a block away from home, which was close enough.”

     “Yeah, close enough for your mama not to catch you with some Chinese boy dressed like a hoodlum,” Denise snorted as she started restocking the candy on the counter.  Annabelle gave her a dirty look and she raised her hands in a defensive position.  “My fault.  I meant Korean.”

     S. Coups smiled to himself, twirling the rose between his fingers as he walked down the street.

   “So, now that the kids are gone, are you gonna tell me what happened with that black chick?” Wonwoo asked nonchalantly, closing his book.

   “Nothing happened!” the raven-haired boy laughed in response.

   “Then what’s got you smiling like an idiot?”

     He paused for a minute, biting his bottom lip.  “She’s amazing, Man,” he all but gushed.

   “So, something did happen!  She was that good of a shag?”

   “What?  No, we didn’t…We didn’t have sex.”

   “So, what the hell did you do?” the younger asked bluntly.  

    “We went dancing.”  

    The younger male looked at him incredulously.  “You?  Dancing?”

     “He really got you sprung, huh?” Denise smiled, resting her chin on her hand.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say sprung…”  

  “I would.  I ain’t seen you this happy since your mama let you stop getting perms,” she laughed.

   “He’s just really really…sweet,” she grinned, glancing down at the candy next to the register. “Hey, Denise, gimme two of them candy pops right there.”

     “Sounds pretty damn nifty,” Wonwoo smiled, sitting down on his stoop.

     S. Coups leaned against the railing and nodded.  “It was.”  

     The two watched as a Korean couple a little older than them walked by holding hands, and S. Coups couldn’t help but smile a little wider at the thought of being like that one day.  Wonwoo frowned a bit, noticing the dreamy look in his friend’s eyes.  

     “You know it won’t be that easy, right?”

     “Yeah…I know,” he replied, plucking a thorn off the rose.

     Wind chimes could be heard over the soft hum of the radio as the convenience store’s door opened.  “Hello.  How can I help….you?,” Denise trailed off as she looked up to see Seungcheol standing at the front of the store. 

    “Hi…I’m looking for Annabelle he said hesitantly, recognizing Denise as one of her friends from the party.

   “She’s uh…She’s in the back room.  She’ll be out in a second,” she replied, still a little surprised that he ventured out to their neighborhood. 

     “You’ll be around, huh?” Annabelle mocked, one eyebrow slightly raised as she came from the back room carrying more magazines.  He smiled at her and shrugged as she placed the books on the counter.

   “I happened to be in the neighborhood.”

   “Considering most people avoid this neighborhood, I find that hard to believe,” she joked, walking over to him.  

     “Alright, so maybe I just wanted to see you,” he admitted with another crooked smile, handing her the flower.  

    “Maybe?” she asked.  

  “Alright, so I definitely wanted to see you,” he corrected himself with a light laugh.

     “Thank you, Seungcheol.  It’s beautiful,” she admired the rose.

 “Not as beautiful as you.”  Denise rolled her eyes behind them, pretending not to listen as she counted her till. 

     “Oh, I got you something, too,” Annabelle beamed, pulling a lollipop out of her pocket.  He chuckled and took it from her.  

    “Sweet,” he grinned, unable to fight the light blush that dusted over his cheeks and nose.

   “Not as sweet as you,” she cooed, placing her hand on his cheek.  

     “Well, you’re both about to give me a cavity.  Could y’all take this little love connection somewhere else?,” Denise teased, shutting the cash register.    

     “Sorry about my friend, Denise. She don’t mean no harm,” Annabelle spoke quietly as the two of them walked down the block. 

  “She’s funny.  Reminds me of my friend, Mingyu.  Hopefully you’ll be able to meet him and the others soon.”

     She gave him an unsure look and he reached down and grabbed her hand.  “They’ll like you; I’m sure of it,” he assured her.   As he looked down at their joined hands, he thought of the couple he saw earlier that day and smiled.

     “What’s got you grinnin’ like a Cheshire cat?” she giggled.  

    He laughed and shook his head.  “Nothin’ in particular.  Being with you just makes me happy, that’s all.”

     Before she could reply, she heard murmuring from across the street.  Looking over, she noticed two black women whispering to each other while staring.  “Oh, no,” she sighed.  

    “What’s wrong?”

   “Nothing.  It’s just one of my mama’s co-workers over there mindin’ our business.”  

     He quickly let go of her hand.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to get you into any trouble.”

   “You didn’t,” she smiled genuinely, intertwining her fingers with his again.  “Let ‘em stare and whisper all they want.  I’m sure my mama would’ve found out eventually anyway.”

     S. Coups thought for a moment before speaking.  “Hey, wanna get out of here?”

  “And go where?”  

    “My side of town.”

   “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…,” she trailed off.  

  “Nobody’s gonna fuck with us; trust me.  You do trust me, right?”

     She indulged in the nervous habit of chewing her bottom lip before nodding with an equally nervous smile.

     “Just a little bit further,” S. Coups grinned, gently tugging her along.  They passed another group of trees before coming to a clearing.  Annabelle took note of how beautiful it was.  Flowers of every color, lush grass as far as the eye could see, a small pond of sparkling blue water- she had never seen anything so pure. 

     “This place is amazing!  How did you find it?” she asked once they sat down.

 “I didn’t.  My father did like twenty-something years ago.  Used to bring my mother here back when they were dating.”

 “How romantic,” she smiled, looking over the landscape.

  “What can I say?  I learned from the best,” he smirked, causing her to roll her eyes.  

     He laid back and rested his head on his arms as he continued to speak.  “My parents would just lay here, looking at the clouds and talking for hours.”

 “About what kinda stuff, if you don’t mind me asking?” she inquired, gently running her fingers through his hair.  After about the third time, she felt grease accumulate on her fingers and decided to stop.  

     “Wait, why’d you stop?” he asked in an almost offended tone, clearly disappointed.

 “I just remembered that you dunk your head in a vat of Crisco every day,” she laughed, showing him her hand.

 “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”  He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her before letting his hand rest on the ground.  

  Wiping her fingers off, she urged him to continue.  “Back to your parents.”

     “Right…..They just talked about everything, I guess.  My pops said they talked a lot about living the American dream.  Y’know, nice house, nice car, white picket fence.  An apartment, a hoopdie, and a barbed wire fence is what they ended up with, though,” he laughed humorlessly as he stared at the sky.  

     Laying down beside him, she supported her head with one arm and said, “America seems more like a nightmare than a dream to me.”

 “I’m sure I can understand why.”  

  “What do you think of it here?”  

    “Personally?  It sucks…But I figure my parents came here for a reason and decided to stay for a reason…So it must be better than whatever they left behind.”  

     He felt her hand slide into his and smiled, looking over at her.  After a few seconds of him admiring her as she watched the clouds drift by, she finally turned to meet his eyes.  In their comfortable silence, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

     Annabelle slid into her house and closed the door as quietly as possible before tip-toeing through the corridor.  “Annabelle!”

     “Shit…,” she mumbled to herself.  “Yes, Mama?”

     “Come in here.  I need to speak with you.”

     She walked into the living room and sat down in front of her mother, waiting for her to initiate the conversation.  “What’s this I hear about you runnin’ round town with one of them little Asian hoodlum boys?”

   “He’s my friend, Mama.”

   “Your friend?  What kind of friend?”  

    “Just…a friend.”     

     S. Coups walked into his room, only to find his father waiting for him.  He sighed a bit, knowing a lecture was the only possible reason for him to be there.

     “Seungcheol, we must talk.  Now.”  S. Coups simply nodded and sat down on his bed.  “What’s this I hear about you bringing one of those colored girls around here?”

 “She’s my friend.”  

  “Your friend?  What kind of friend?”  

  “Just a friend.  I don’t know what else you want me to say, Dad,” S. Coups answered, avoiding eye contact.

 “I want you to tell me why you’re bringing your colored friend into our neighborhood.  You’re just asking for trouble,” Mr. Choi said, voice raising slightly.  

     S. Coups finally looked up at his father with a blank expression.  “Why do you call her colored?”

   “Because she is.”

   “Then what are we?”

   His father remained quiet for a moment.  

     “What are we, Dad?  We definitely aren’t white, no matter how much you want us to be, so what are we?” he asked in an almost harsh tone, though he kept in mind that he was still talking to his father.  

     Mr. Choi stood up from the desk chair and said, “We are trying to get by…and I don’t want you making that any harder than it already is,” before leaving the room.

     S. Coups felt his left leg bouncing in agitation as his father closed the door.  Reaching over to pull open his desk drawer, his eyes locked on a single cigarette.  After what felt like hours of contemplation, he closed the drawer before reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out the lollipop he’d gotten from Annabelle earlier that day, and unwrapping it with shaky hands.   

    A faint tapping against her window woke Annabelle from her already unsatisfying slumber.  With a light grumble, she got up and walked over to the dark frame before looking out and down.  Finding none other than Seungcheol standing there, pebbles in hand, she quickly backed away and yanked off the scarf that had been protecting her curls.  “Seungcheol Choi, what the hell are you doing?” she asked, amusement betraying her attempt at a scolding tone as she looked out again.

    “You’re a heavy sleeper.  I damn near threw a brick.”

    “That doesn’t sound like a hate crime at all,” she deadpanned.

    “You know what I meant.  Now are you gonna come down here or what?”

    “Why should I?” she inquired, folding her arms.  “It’s been over a week since I last saw you.”

    He sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair before responding.  “I know, and I’m sorry.  Just—Just come down….please, Annie.”

    Hearing the remorse in his voice, she did what he asked and ventured downstairs and outside.  “You really shouldn’t be here in the middle of the night.”

    “I know, but I just had to see you.  And I know your mama’s out on her night shift, so I figured the timing was right” he shrugged sheepishly.

    She took a look around before grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.  “Come in, just in case.”

    Seungcheol’s eyes wandered throughout the living room, taking in all the pieces that held cultural significance.  Smiling at a picture of a bright-eyed girl with two puffballs atop her head, he asked, “Is this you?”

    Rolling her eyes, she walked over and turned the picture over, placing it face-down on the shelf.  “Tell me what’s going on, Seungcheol.  You gone crazy?”

    “I’m crazy about you,” he replied in all sincerity, hand grasping hers.  “And I know everyone thinks we shouldn’t be together, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”  She remained silent, eyes staring into his with no readable emotion, so he continued. “I….I threw out my last cig the other day, and I thought of you when I did it.”

    “Well, I’m glad you’re taking better care of yourself.”

    “That’s part of it,” he began, releasing her hand and stepping back to lean one shoulder against the wall.  “But I also couldn’t risk tasting like an ash tray the next time I got lucky enough to kiss you,” he finished, earning a soft giggle from her.

    “So, you came here after dark to tell me that?” she asked, tone lighthearted, but still mildly confused.

    “I came here because--” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts.  “I don’t know why I came here.  I was just sitting in my room thinking about all the bullshit I’ve been hearing over the last week and about how I let it keep me away from you…And I just needed to tell you that I don’t care anymore, about any of it.  All I care about is you,” he breathed, letting his words fall from his mouth in a jumbled mess.  

    She sighed heavily, crossing her arms again as she stepped closer.  “I’d be lying if I said people weren’t getting to me, too…But all I want is to be with you,” she timidly spoke, eyes finding his.

    Without another word, he pulled her into a deep kiss, taking the initiative to press her against the wall. Having missed the feeling of her coarse hair, he trailed one hand up from her face to gently twirl a lock around his finger as his other hand drifted to her back.  She couldn’t help but smile as her hands gripped the lapels of his leather jacket and tugged them down.  He released her momentarily to slide his jacket off, letting it fall to the floor.  

    Pulling about a centimeter away, he whispered, “I don’t know much about love, but I sure hope it feels something like this,” brushing his nose against hers.

    “Well, we got all the time in the world to figure it out.”

    “Just you and me?” he asked, eyes lidded.

    She nodded before pecking his lips once more.  “Just you and me.”

    “And if anybody says a fucking thing, you come get me, alright?” S. Coups said sternly, masking the worried feeling threatening to overtake him.  Annabelle nodded, giving him a nervous smile.  He unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth as the two turned to face the doors of the school, which somehow seemed even larger than usual.  

    She laced her fingers between his, giving him a reassuring squeeze.  “Just you and me, Candy Man.”

    With a soft chuckle, he smiled and replied, “Just you and me, Sweetheart.”

#s. coups #s coup #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol choi #seventeen #seventeen fluff #fluff #angst #seventeen angst #kpop #kpop fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #svt #svt fluff #fanfic #black kpop fans

[plusultrabitchez]

Rooms on Fire Chapter 20: Vegas Part 1

Everyone started the trip with gusto and determination. But after 25 hours of travel time, everyone was ready for a big meal and some relaxing. You all waited outside the airport as your car service loaded all of your luggage into a few black SUVs. Most of you were smart enough to sleep on the plane so you weren't too horribly jet-lagged. Most of you. "Oh my god I'm so tiiiirrrreed." Kaminari yawned. "I told you when to sleep on the plane, you idiot!" Bakugou barked. He had been stuck beside Kaminari the whole trip and everyone was shocked that he hadn't murdered him yet.

You had your arms wrapped around Hitoshi and snuggled your head into his chest as you laughed. Hitoshi stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head. "How are you holding up gorgeous?" "I'm okay. I'm just so hungry." You mumbled into his chest. Hitoshi chuckled. "Well once we get to the hotel and throw our shit into our rooms we'll go have a giant brunch." You squeezed him tightly and hummed happily into his chest. "Alright ma'am. That's everything." One of the driver's said to you. You pulled away from Hitoshi as all of you climbed into various cars. You dozed off for a bit in the car and before you knew it you had arrived at Caesar's Palace. You rode piggyback on Hitoshi as you walked through the enormous lobby to the front desk.

"Whoa guys! This place is insane!" Kirishima said looking around in awe. "Yes! This hotel is exquisite! I can't wait to see what type of spa services they offer." Yaoyorozu beamed. "Just wait until you see our rooms." Hitoshi laughed. "Oh my god! This is going to be so awesome!" Mina and Kaminari high fived. Mina had helped you come up with more ideas of things for you girls to do. Ochako was your best friend, but you and Mina loved to tear up the town together. "I still can't believe you guys did all this for us." Ochako said walking beside you and Hitoshi. "We wanted to! We love you guys and wanted to give you a trip you'd never forget." You smiled at Ochako and Midoriya.

You reached the front desk and hopped off Hitoshi's back and leaned on the counter and smiled at the concierge. "Welcome To Caesar's Palace. Are you checking in?" "Yes, the reservation is under the name (Y/N) Kubo." She typed something on the computer and smiled. "Yes, miss Kubo. Your Villa is ready." "VILLA?!" Everyone exclaimed. You turned around to smile at everyone then looked back at the concierge. "Awesome! We just got off a plane from Tokyo and we're all starving. Can we get some brunch in the hotel restaurant?" "Yes ma'am. We can go ahead and reserve a table for you." "You're the best! Thanks so much!" You finished checking in, handed out all the keys, and made your way to the Villa to pick your rooms and freshen up before going to brunch.

"Holy crap!" Midoriya squeaked as you opened the doors to the Villa. Everyone was just as shocked as Midoriya. It was a 5 bedroom, 5 bathroom suite with a full bar, huge living room, kitchen, dining room, pool tables, and a big hot tub on the private balcony that overlooked the hotel pool. "Alright, most rooms have 2 queen beds, but two of them have just a King. Obviously one of those will go to Ochako and Midoriya." "You guys should take the other king bed." Tsu said to you and Hitoshi. "Yeah! You guys are paying for all this and planned everything. It's only fair!" Sero chimed in. "Are you sure?" You asked. "They're sure!" Hitoshi said as he threw you over his shoulder and grabbed your bags with the other and made his way to your room. "Everyone else go find your rooms! We're leaving for brunch in 20 minutes!" You called out.

Hitoshi walked into one of the rooms with the King bed and tossed the bags down before tossing you on the bed. You could barely breathe from laughing so hard. Hitoshi laughed as he tackled you and started smothering you with sweet kisses. "I can't wait to break in this bed later." He said between kisses. "God that's going to be interesting." "Why?" Hitoshi asked hovering over you. You gave him a look and he started laughing. "Oh right." He leaned into your ear. "Because I make you scream so fucking loud." He nipped your ear. You groaned as you felt your core tighten. How could he have the energy for this after that long flight? "You're such a dick." You chuckled. "Oh am I?" He smirked before attacking you with tickles making you laugh and squirm uncontrollably.

Screaming and yelling came from outside your door before it busted open as Mina and Kaminari ran in. Of course, Hitoshi was on top of you. "Oh my god you guys get a room!" Kaminari yelled. "We did! We're in it!" You both yelled. "God how can you guys have the energy for that already!" Mina laughed running over and hopping on the bed. Hitoshi groaned, but you laughed. "Guys, why are you here?" You asked shoving Hitoshi off of you. He collapsed on his back on the bed and sighed in defeat. It was like having kids. "Do I have to share a bed?" Kaminari whined. "Dude! It's up to you guys! Do I need to assign rooms?" "Well Mina took a whole room to herself!" Kaminari tattled as he pointed to Mina. You gasped at Mina. "Girl! You can't do that!" "What?! You said you figure it out!" You heard more yelling from the common areas and rolled your eyes.

"That's it!" You dragged Mina and Kaminari our of your room and you stomped into the living room to join the others. Everyone was arguing and yelling. Iida and Yaoyorozu were the only ones trying to maintain order. You used your quirk to knock them to the ground. "Alright, you adorable idiots! Listen up!" You pointed to Kaminari and Sero "You two will share a bed and room with Iida." "How come Iida gets his own bed?!" They protested. "Iida is basically a babysitter so he definitely gets his own bed so stop complaining." You said and flicked their foreheads then pointed to their room. "Thank you Kubo!" Iida said and gave you a stiff bow. The three of them grabbed their bags and went to settle in.

You pointed to Mina and Tsu. "You two will share a room with Yaoyorozu and Jirou." They sighed. "Okaaaaay." They grabbed their bags and made their way to their room as well. You pointed to Kirishima and Bakugou. "You two will share a room since you're conjoined at the hip anyway." Kirishima smiled and gave you a thumbs up. "Sweet! Which room are we in?" You pointed to the room that shared a wall with you and Hitoshi's room. "That one. That way you'll each have your own beds." "Are you serious?! I'm going to have to listen to you two fucking this whole trip!" Bakugou protested. Hitoshi cackled loudly from the bedroom. You laughed and threw his bag at him. "Brunch in 15 assholes!" . . "Oh my god this is so good!" Kirishima said while shoveling food in his mouth. "This food is divine! Thank you so much for bringing us here." Yaoyorozu said after sipping her tea. You had all finally gotten down to brunch. You had a big table on the patio and it was a beautiful day out. Most of you changed into shorts and tanks since it was so warm. Despite this, you, Hitoshi, and Bakugou still got black coffee. Hitoshi quirked his brow at Bakugou. "Didn't take you for a coffee guy." The blonde rolled his eyes. "You think I drink tea for little bitches?" Hitoshi chuckled. "No I just assumed you drank whiskey and motor oil all day every day." To his surprise, Bakugou actually chuckled at his comment.

"Okay, guys! Kaminari and I had the BEST idea." Mina said waving her arms around. "Oh, are you doing shots already?" You said before chugging your coffee. "Maybe! But that's not it!" Mina said. Her and Kaminari looked at each other like they were about to reveal the best thing that ever existed. You sighed. "I got a bad feeling about this, but shoot." "TRUTH OR DARE!" They exclaimed. Everyone looked back and forth at each other silently. "Umm I think we need a little more info guys." Jirou said. They groaned then Kaminari stood up. "Okay starting now we all play an ongoing game of Truth or Dare that lasts the entire trip. The last person to do a truth or dare gets to choose the next person. You can't choose someone twice in a row, and you HAVE to do it or else pay the price." Everyone nodded. "Hmm, that could be fun." Tsu said after mulling it over. "Okay, but what exactly is the price if you don't want to answer the truth or do the dare?" Ochako asked. "$100!" Mina and Kaminari said in unison. "Umm who is that going to?" Kirishima asked. "To whoever challenged you." Mina said. Everyone thought about for a moment and agreed. "By the way, you don't have to immediately challenge someone. You can hold on to your challenge, but for no longer than a few hours. We want to get a bunch of rounds in this trip." You all raised your cups and glasses of various drinks and toasted in agreement.

"I'll start!" Mina said then pointed at you. "Kubo! Truth or dare." You smirked. "Dare." "I dare you to chug your mimosa then jump in the pool." She pointed to the hotel pool that was about 50 feet behind you. "But that's two things Mina." "I don't care! Do it or pay up." You stood up and everyone cheered as you chugged your drink. You kicked off your shoes, jumped the railing and ran to the pool. Your friend's cheering grew louder as you neared the pool. Even Bakugou was cheering. "DO A FLIP KUBOOOO!" Kirishima and Sero yelled out. You reached the pool and jolted off the edge and front flipped into the pool while yelling "PARKOUR!"

Your friends and other hotel guests erupted with cheers as you plunged into the water. You popped back up and flipped your hair like the Little Mermaid and screamed: "FUCK IT'S SO COLD!" You had trouble climbing out because you were laughing so hard. You ran back to your friends who were crying with laughter, hopped back over the railing and bowed. "You're so classy." Hitoshi laughed. You gave him an evil grin and his face went serious. "I know what you're thinking (Y/N). Don't do it." He started to back away while you walked towards him. "Come ooonn Toshi. Don't you want to hug your girlfriend?" You were sopping wet and were dripping all over the patio. "I swear to god (Y/N)! I'll tie you down somewhere." He was trying to fight a smile as you slowly closed the space between you. "Oh baby, don't threaten me with a good time." You said before tackling him. Hitoshi hissed as your cold and wet body collided with his. Everyone laughed as you squeezed the water out of your hair and let it drip on Hitoshi. He held up his hands and chuckled. "Okay! You win! I surrender!" You helped him back up, his clothes now damp. "You're going to pay for that later." He whispered in your ear. You smiled at him. "Promise?" . . You guys didn't have anything planned for the day since you knew everyone would be tired from traveling. You did have a dinner planned for everyone that evening. You told everyone to be dressed up and ready to leave by 7. Some people took a nap, some relaxed in the hot tub and others played pool. After spending a few hours finalizing the events you had planned for the trip, you and Hitoshi decided to break in the bed.

Hitoshi clapped his hand over your mouth as you moaned his name. "Shh! I love your moans baby, but I'll never hear the end of it if anyone hears us." You giggled as you two continued having lazy gentle sex. "You'd love it if I screamed your name for everyone to hear." You said breathlessly. Hitoshi smirked. "Maybe towards the end of the trip gorgeous. Until then..." he put his hand over your mouth as he picked up his pace. Luckily you were able to stay quiet the whole time, but Hitoshi was going easy on you.

After your shower, you slipped into your dress and finished up your makeup in the bathroom. You came into the bedroom as Hitoshi was slipping on his suit jacket. He was wearing a classic black suit with a white shirt and skinny black tie. You couldn't help but check out his butt. He turned around and wolf whistled when he saw your dress. You wore a simple black dress that went down to your knees but had a deep plunge in the front that almost reached your navel so it gave a great view of your cleavage. "You look amazing." Hitoshi said coming over to you and traced your silhouette with his hands. "Thanks Tiger." You looked him up and down. "Going to be ready for round two later?" He smirked and kissed your neck. "I'm ready now." You giggled as he showered you with kisses.

You went out to the common area to see some of the boys playing pool. "Jeez are none of the other girls ready yet?" You asked causing them to turn around. Their eyes went wide when they saw you. Bakugou's cheeks turned pink before looking back at the pool table to take his shot. "Whoa Kubo!" Kaminari gasped. "That's uh...hell of a dress." You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Thanks suga." You left to go to the girl's room to see if they needed any help getting ready. Kaminari and Sero ogled you as you walked away. Kirishima did his best not to look anywhere inappropriate, but he couldn't help it. "Dude it's crazy that we're here in Vegas with so many hotties." Kaminari said excitedly. "If Kubo is going to dress like that every day this will be the best vacation ever!" "Stop gawking at her!" Bakugou snapped, hitting Sero and Kaminari with the pool stick. "Yeah guys, it's not very manly. She's our friend, we need to be respectful." Kirishima chimed in. "Shut up! I saw you check out her ass too!" He growled making Kirishima turn pink and hang his head in shame. "Jeez man, are you going to be like this with all the girls?" Sero asked rubbing the spot where Bakugou hit him. "Doubt it. It's just because he has a thing for her." Kaminari groaned. "Shut up! I do not!" Kirishima rolled his eyes as Bakugou continued to argue with the other two men.

After a few minutes you finally got the girls together and the group headed to the restaurant. You were walking through the lobby when you pulled Jirou to you. "Hey Jirou, Truth or Dare?" Everyone's attention as on the two of you. Jirou smirked. "Dare!" "Play a song by slapping your butt cheeks until one of us guesses the song." "WHAT?!" Jirou regretted picking Dare. Everyone was laughing. "You can pay up if you don't want to." Jirou gulped then started slapping her butt. "I can't tell if it's Ice Ice Baby or Under Pressure." Iida said rubbing his chin. Poor Jirou was so red in the face while the rest of you were wheezing with laughter. "Under Pressure, for sure." Hitoshi laughed. Jirou let out a relieved sigh as you all applauded her bravery. "Alright Jirou, balls in your court." "I may save it for after dinner." She smiled evilly at Kaminari. "But man do I have something for you." "Oh damnit." Kaminari groaned.

The group had a fantastic dinner with a stunning view of the city. You all took your time eating and discussing things everyone wanted to see while in town. You were in between Hitoshi and Bakugou. You thought it would be awkward, but so far everything was going well.

"So what are we doing after this?" Sero asked. "Well we're in Vegas so obviously we need to do some gambling." You said taking a sip of your drink. "Oh hell yeah." Bakugou said fist bumping you. "I'm totally going to kick your ass in blackjack." You said. Bakugou scoffed. "Oh yeah right! You never beat me at cards." "Dude! I always beat you at blackjack!" You laughed. "Yeah and I always beat your ass at poker!" "It's because you always look angry and have no emotions!" "Fuck you! Angry is an emotion!" Hitoshi watched the two of you going back and forth and bickering. He felt like he should be jealous, but he was more amused than anything. You were one of the few people who could give Bakugou a run for his money and call him out on his bullshit.

Eventually, you two settled down and peace was restored. After you all finished your dessert you made your way to the casino. You and Hitoshi provided everyone with $100 worth of chips to use. Everyone thanked you profusely and scattered. Ochako, Midoriya, Iida and Tsu went to play Craps. Sero, Kaminari, and Mina hit up the slot machines, Jirou and Yaoyorozu went to play poker and you Hitoshi, Bakugou, and Kirishima went to play blackjack.

"Shut up mind fuck!" Bakugou yelled at a laughing Hitoshi after you had won blackjack for the fourth time. "Calm down man. It's just a game." Kirishima chuckled as he put his hand on the shoulder of the fuming blonde. "Okay I think that's enough blackjack for me." You said and took your winnings. "I think Ochako and some of the others are over at the Craps table. Want to see how they're doing?" "Yeah let's do that." Hitoshi said taking your hand and interlocking his fingers with yours. "You guys coming?" Kirishima smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "I think we're going to play a few more rounds. We'll catch up with you later!" Bakugou threw back his drink and grumbled something. You nodded and waved and set out to find Ochako.

"Are you having fun so far?" Hitoshi asked as the two of you strolled around the casino keeping an eye out for your friends. "Yeah I'm having a blast actually. How about you?" "Same here. It's actually going a lot better than I expected." "How do you mean?" "Well, there are a lot of us. A lot of clashing personalities. And I was nervous blasty would bite everyone's head off, but he hasn't been too bad." You laughed. "I think having Kirishima here helps with that." "Yeah for sure." Hitoshi stopped walking and pulled you to him. He cupped your face and kissed you. "I love you." You smiled. "I love you too."

On your way to find Ochako the two of you passed by Kaminari, Sero, Mina, Yaoyorozu, and Jirou all standing around a trash can.

"Do it, you wimp!" Jirou said scowling at Kaminari.

"Jirooouuuuu it's so gross!" Kaminari whined.

"Do it or pay up dude!" Sero laughed.

With a groan and a full-body shudder, Kaminari plunged his entire arm into the trashcan. There was a mixture of cheers and groans as he quickly pulled his arm out.

"Oh my god! That stinks so bad!" You said holding your nose.

Kaminari whined loudly. "I'll never get a hot babe now!" He took the wipes that Yaoyorozu made for him.

"What's going on guys?" Ochako said running up to the group with Midoriya, Iida, and Tsu trailing behind.

"I dared Kaminari to put his hand in this trashcan and the idiot actually did it." Jirou snickered.

The group let out another collective "Ew."

You turned to Ochako and Midoriya. "How'd you guys do? Win big?"

"I won more than I lost so I actually have a little more than what I started with." She beamed.

"That's great!" You gave her a high five.

"If you guys want to keep gambling you're more than welcome to. Just so you know we do have a big day tomorrow." Hitoshi chimed in.

"Any chance you'll tell us what we're doing?" Midoriya asked hopefully.

Hitoshi shook his head. "Nope."

"We should gather up Kirishima and Bakugou and head back to the Villa so we can all get a good night's rest!" Iida suggested.

"Cool your jets. We're here."

You turned around to see Bakugou and Kirishima walking up. You all headed back to the hotel. Walking down the street you took in all the lights. Even though it was pretty late the city was alive and full of people. Hitoshi and Midoriya walked ahead of you deep in discussion about something. You felt Bakugou walking beside you.

You smirked. "Sooo did you win?"

"Tch, shut up."

"I'll take that as a no."

He gently ran his body into yours, making you stumble a bit. "Asshole." You giggled.

He smirked. "Bitch."

The two of you were quiet most of the walk back. You continued to look at all the lights. They were blinding, but it kinda reminded you of a really intense Christmas on steroids. A small smile appeared on Bakugou's lips as he watched you look around. "(Y/N)?"

"Yeah Katsuki?"

"You uh...you look really pretty and stuff." He said quietly looking down.

You smiled softly at him. "Thank you Katsuki."

You all finally made it back to the Villa. You are said your goodnights and dispersed to your rooms. You undressed and watched Hitoshi do the same.

"So how many of them told you how good you look tonight?" He asked undoing his tie.

You laughed. "All of them besides Iida and Midoriya."

Hitoshi chuckled. "Yeah, I figured. I know they've all be eyeing you all night."

You got concerned. "How do you feel about that?"

Hitoshi slid off his pants and climbed into bed with you. "If it was a few months ago, I would be pretty pissed. But now..." he pulled you close and kissed you deeply. "...they can say whatever they want, as long as they're respectful of course, but I know I'm the only one who gets to hold you..." he kissed you gently. "And I'm the only one who gets to kiss that beautiful face of yours." he kissed you again. "And I'm the one who you come to bed with every night."

Your heart fluttered and smiled from ear to ear while you ran your fingers through his hair. "Damn right Tiger."

#rooms on fire #chapter 20 #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou #mha hitoshi #bnha hitoshi #hitoshi x reader #fluff #bnha fluff #fanfic #bnha fanfic #mha fanfiction #fanfiction #mha fanfic #katsuki bakugou #bakusquad #bnha bakugou #katsuki #bnha kirishima #kirishima eijirou #bnha kaminari #mina ashido #sero hanta #bnha sero #bnha yaoyorozu #bnha jirou #bnha tsuyu #uraraka ochako

[aspernamentum]

Flashback \\ Jimbo n Didi

meme // accepting.

The pair walked into the cinema. It was empty, Jimmy had politely allowed Didi to choose the seats. The lights came up, Jimmy shoved some popcorn into his mouth. The movie faded in, 50 First Dates, Jimmy groaned. For the first fifteen minutes of the movie, Jimmy boo’d constantly, throwing his popcorn at Adam Sandlers big stupid face. The reel stopped abruptly. Grunting could be heard from the projectionist, loud grunting, groaning, he sounded like a fucking zombie. The light came back on, the picture was different. The grainy black-and-white picture contrasted with the relatively modern looking kitchen, “I… I know that place.” Jimmy murmured. 

Jimmy leaned forward in his seat as he watched himself walk into the kitchen, music faded in. Jimmy was singing as he cooked, reading from a recipe as he belted out Love and Happiness by Al Green. Jimmy looked younger on-screen, early twenties, slicked back hair, wearing a wife-beater and suit trousers. Two men walked down the apartment complex’s halls, he was a big guy, one looked as though he could dead-lift a truck. He was adorned with gold chains, his hair was slicked back. The other was shorter, stockier, he rapped the door at the end of the hall. Jimmy flicked on the stove when they knocked, he moved through the tiny apartment and answered. He seemed confused, it took him a minute to say anything. “Sam, Eddie.” He muttered. “Everything all right?”      “Nah, Jimmy. ‘Fraid not. Can we come in?” Sam, the skinnier one, asked.      “I’m cooking for Zoe – can it wait?” This Jimmy, the Jimmy on screen, he was far more hospitable than the one that sat next to Didi. “Can’t wait.” Eddie grunted. He pushed past Jimmy and into his apartment. Sam gave Jimmy a begrudged smile as he swanned in. They sat on his couch. Jimmy stood in front of the TV. “Sit.” Sam said, Jimmy did as he was told. “We got’ta talk about the Low situation.” Jimmy’s jaw clenched at the mere mention of it.      “I told Mazzeo. Ain’t gon’na happen. Cut me loose, I don’t give a shit. I’m a gun for hire, I’ll find work. Now, get the fuck out’ta my apartment.” Jimmy stood again. That was all he had to say on the situation. Eddie stood too. Jimmy began to look nervous. 

“Eddie was my friend. We were friends.” Jimmy, the one who sat firmly in the uncomfortable cinema seats, sounded hurt, or at least as hurt as modern Jimmy could. Eddie was on him in a flash, his hand grabbed Jimmy’s throat and slammed him to the wall, knocking the TV out of the way in the process. Jimmy was off the ground, squirming like a rat, kicking his legs and trying his hardest to hit Eddie’s elbow. “See,” Sam said, also standing so casually. “If you had just killed the fucking Scotsman, if you had just did as the Don said, we wouldn’t have to do this. I like you Jimmy, an’ this pains me, it truly does. Kill him, Ed. I’ll be out in the car.” Sam reached down to the coffee table, stole one of Jimmy’s cigarettes, and gave him a big smile before leaving, shutting the door on his way out. Eddie’s grip tightened, Jimmy’s eye’s bulged, he was beginning to go a different shade of grey. “zzzshhh... Oe,” he managed to squeeze out. Eddie didn’t relent. One last plan, one last-ditch effort. Jimmy managed to ram his thumb into Eddie’s eye. Eddie didn’t let go immediately, he threw Jimmy to the ground, Jimmy bounced off the TV and rolled off gasping for air. The TV was one of the old ones, the ones with the bag-backs. Eddie picked it up and dropped it on Jimmy. Jimmy screeched, writhing around on the floor. The TV had cracked, but it hadn’t smashed. As Eddie loomed over Jimmy, survival mode kicked in. Flight was out, fight was in. He grabbed the TV, bounced it off the ground as hard as he could. The screen shattered. He grabbed a shard and squirmed off, managing to pull himself up as Eddie lumbered towards him. Jimmy swing at Eddie with the shard, his missed, Eddie was backing him into the kitchen. Eddie swung his meat-hook and smashed Jimmy across the cheek, he stumbled, landing on the kitchen, wiping the pan off the stove. Eddie grabbed him by the hair, Jimmy let out pained wails. His eye hovered above the naked flame, his hands grabbed the counter. “Eddie, Eddie! Please! Please don’t do this, please just --” he was swinging wildly with the shard, he connected, a quick slice at the stomach, his head slammed against the stove, missing the flame by millimeters. 

What followed was brutality. Jimmy was cornered, it was nowhere near an even fight. Jimmy moved for the kitchen drawer, he was trying to get a knife. The drawer was slammed on his fingers, a fist connected with Jimmy’s face. Then another, then a body shot, then another face shot. Jimmy tried to throw up his guard, but the punches were too powerful. Blood filled his mouth, filled his eye’s, burst out his nose, Eddie was barely phased, lightly perspiring at best, the guy was a boxer after all. Jimmy fell to his knees, throwing his hands up. “Sthop!” His tongue was about five times the size it was before the fight, his voice was just a wheeze. He dropped himself into the corner of the kitchen, “jutht get it over with.” And he meant it. Perhaps that’s why the memory stuck in his mind so much, not because it was the first time he was willing to die, not because it was the first time he had felt betrayal, but because for the first time he was alone. The mob were out for his blood, for his friends blood, and that anger that had guided him through so much, that had saved his ass on so many occasions just wasn’t there. “When I’m done here, we’re gon’na drive over to Jacks’ apartment. We’re gon’na kill him real slow. You could’a stopped that. You could’a just pulled the trigger yourself. Would’a been kinder.” Eddie’s voice was low grumble, but he didn’t sound sadistic, he sounded numb. This wasn’t Eddie’s life, some debts needed to be paid. Jimmy pulled himself up. He couldn’t die. Not yet. He leaned against the kitchen counter next to the microwave, trying to catch his breath. Eddie pulled a knife out Jimmy’s drawer, Jimmy grabbed the microwave and in one quick and fluid movement rammed Eddie across the head, finally he had some leverage, the knife dropped, Jimmy let out a primal scream as he slammed the microwaved onto Eddie’s head again, the glass door broke, Eddie screamed and stumbled back, “fuck you!” Jimmy yelled, he swung back, slammed Eddie on the chin. Eddie hit the ground. Jimmy dropped the microwave. “You were my friend,” Jimmy wheezed, “you could’ve left me alone.” Blood and saliva spilled out his mouth involuntarily as he spoke. Jimmy limped over the reeling Eddie, he grabbed a meat-tenderizer out the drawer. He got on top of Eddie. “You could’ve left me alone.” He raised the meat tenderizer, he slammed it down. The film burnt out. 

“BOOOOOOO!” Jimmy yelled at the screen, “BOOOO! BULLSHIT! BOOOOOOOOO!” 

#dxspereaux #ch; jimmy #wtf is this #v; glory days