Reading Up On A Certain Roman Emperor

✿ m.list ✿

Warning: Most of these fanfictions are smut, do not copy or translate my writing and if you’re underage please do not read, thank you!

Note: I write more about jungkook or taehyung.. I can’t resist them…

✿━ click HERE to ask me stuff :)

Last Updated: 04/04/22.

M(mature) F(fluff) A(angst)

!! -> check for the green letters in case some links don’t work.

KIM NAMJOON

• It’s Ok M You wanted to give your boyfriend a blowjob but.. things doesn’t go as planned..

requests;

• when you give him those eyes M

JEON JUNGKOOK

• Needy M that one jungkook drinking wine from that Vlive, yep.

• Friends With Benefits M 

Keep reading

pack it up barzy 😍

LITERALLY THOUGHT THIS WAS HIM WHEN I FIRST SAW THIS LMAOO

passenger princess jihoon who is obsesed with you driving places because he doesn't have a license and doesn't want one, because why should he go through the trouble when he has you

he doesn't care that his friends make fun of him because they just don't get it. they're the ones missing out because when they have to drive everywhere alone, he gets to spend time with you with your hand on his thigh and your voice singing along to the radio

to jihoon there's nothing better than sitting shotgun in your old, hand-me-down car that has definitely seen its better days. the air condition works only half the time and the lining on the roof is in terrible shape, but the radio works well so you don’t dare trade it in even though it’s pushing 300,000 miles. the car has been reliable through thick and thin though, and everytime jihoon sees it pull up to his place a smile spreads on his face

the best part about sitting in your passenger seat is jihoon has the perfect view to look over at you while you’re driving. you always look most beautiful when the sun is starting to set and the golden light basks over your skin through the windows. every once in a while you’ll catch jihoon staring at you and you shoot him a blinding smile that makes jihoon’s heart flutter

"hoon-ah" you say to the boy "i have to get gas, do you want a drink or something?"

"a coke please"

that's another good part about you driving him around, it allows you to dote on him even more than you already do, and jihoon loves it. he loves being able to sit comfortably in the car while you pump gas and he loves when you offer to get him a drink and he loves that the only thing he has to do is be in charge of the music

so what if he's spoiled? you don't mind it and in turn you get to spend a little more time with your boyfriend and that's as good as it can get

(it’s nice) to have a friend | series

SYNOPSIS. Best friends since childhood just don’t become lovers overnight. Sometimes, there are speed bumps along the way. One is that you are secretly in love with Jeno who is smitten with someone else, more specifically, your pretty roommate. And the other is that he asked you to be his fake girlfriend in order to gain your roommate’s attention. No other sane person would say yes to a situation like this but then again, you weren’t sane, to begin with. In situations like this, you wonder how much of a fool you were with going through this plan. In situations like this, Lee Jeno thinks it’s quite nice to have a friend like you. 

PAIRING. best friend!Lee Jeno x female!reader GENRE. College!AU | Fake Dating!AU | Childhood Friends-to-Lovers!AU | Idiots-to-Lovers!AU | Slight Angst | Fluff WARNINGS FOR SERIES. food and drink (non-alcoholic) consumption, profanities (to be updated along with chapters!), Taylor Swift references 

one. heartbreak prince

two. you are in love

three. cruel summer

four. how you get the girl

TAGLIST. @keemburley @johtenrecs @emmybyeakitty @sokkigarden @bat-shark-repellant @suhnnyskiess @shiningjaehyun @taeyongslilkitty @ferxanda @neowritingsnet @czennienet @ppangjae @infnteen​ @moonchele​

AUTHOR’S NOTE. Tadah! A surprise drop! This is a rewrite of my Jeno timestamp series. New and improved and obviously inspired by Taylor Swift <3 

©sehunniepotwrites, 2022

dandelion

author's note. i saw those pics and howled how is he so husband coded..... also decided to post this on his e word day to cheer up us all:(

summary. you feel a little down when your husband seems interested in another woman... but maybe that's your pregnancy causing unnecessary drama in your head

warnings. reader is pregnant<3 slight angst bc reader is hard on herself regarding her looks:( jealousy + mentioned drinking (not reader!!!! never drink while pregnant!!!!), haechan being a lil mean but he doesnt mean it lmao

word count. 1582

jaehyun was helping in the kitchen and laughter was booming from the room whereas you and the others sat in the living room, waiting. 

“the food was so good” you sighed dreamily, rubbing your tummy in a satisfied motion and a  huge smile. 

“i bet she liked it too, huh?” jungwoo snickered, pointing at your stomach.

“oh yes she did. she’s a meat lover after daddy” you giggled and patted your baby bump gently. 

“you inhaled that bbq, we thought there’d be nothing left” haechan giggled and mark nudged his elbow.

“dude!” he hissed, sending you an apologetic smile. 

you just scoffed, shaking your head. 

“no, no, he’s right. it’s the baby you know. sorry” you mumbled and yuta plopped down next to you. 

“don’t apologize, he’s just not too much of a thinker” he teased and rubbed his own stomach too “man, i’m full”

“drinks!” doyoung waltzed into the room, balancing a platter. the ice in the elegant glasses clinked, colorful beverages shining in the sun falling through the huge window. 

johnny put down a bowl of chips. 

“ah, i’ve been waiting for that” yuta hummed like a purring cat and snatched the drink the second doyoung placed them down. 

“and an orange juice for a special lady” jaehyun appeared in front of you and handed you the glass. it had ice and a paper umbrella in it, a slice of lemon adorning the edge. 

you sent him a soft smile, puckering your lips in a pout. that’s a habit you developed ever since your pregnant belly started being too restrictive. it was a sign for ‘i wanna kiss you but i can’t move’

he leaned closer and planted a sweet kiss on your lips, knowing what you meant. 

“i wanna drink too…” you joked, pouting like a kicked puppy. 

“one more month baby” jaehyun said softly, sending you a reassuring smile. 

the evening went on, chatting and joking accompanied by the football match they were watching. 

you were slowly dozing off, partly paying attention to what they were saying. 

“y/n is almost as round as the ball now, look!” donghyuck giggled and your eyes snapped open at the mention of your name. 

“i wonder if your belly if bigger than a ball… i’d say it’s rather a basketball size, huh?” jungwoo pondered. 

a bitter pang overtook your heart. you know they didn’t mean it to sound rude but you couldn’t help but wonder if you’re really that… big… and round… and apparently so easy to target, too. 

jaehyun caught your unfazed expression and clicked his tongue. 

“you remind me of a ball too. your fuckass big head–“ he joked at haechan and everyone laughed, including you. 

and when you went to the bathroom, you missed jaehyun taking the youngest to the side. 

“do we have everything, baby?” your husband asked, pushing the cart. you looked at your notes, not even halfway checked. 

“we barely entered the mart” you grunted and looked up at him. his dimples poked in a boyish smile. 

“anything you’re craving right now, misses” he teased and you rolled your eyes. 

you may or may have not sneaked some of your pregnancy cravings into the cart but you didn’t think he’d notice. 

“shut up. it’s our girl, not me” you huffed dramatically and wrapped your hands around his arm. 

suddenly, a pretty girl appeared in the aisle. she had long, silky blonde hair and was wearing a really cute outfit. it displayed her long legs and the crop top she was wearing exposed her flat stomach. her face was perfect, makeup glowing like a model. 

you sulked upon seeing her figure. you missed your old body. you missed being able to walk around in outfits like these. hell, even fitting in jeans was out of your reach now. 

you realized that when she passed you by, jaehyun turned his head to look at her. 

wave of sadness washed over you, slowly letting go of his arm. you didn’t blame him, though. you were nothing compared to her. big belly, no makeup, hair in a normal ponytail. you haven’t dressed up in a while – and even if you did, you wouldn’t look like you would before. 

“i don’t feel too good. i’ll go back to the car” you mumbled, feeling like crying. you wanted to hide from the world… from your own husband. 

jaehyun’s features dropped in instant worry, turning to you.

“are you okay? i’ll drive you home. do you need to see a doctor?” he asked, panic in his voice. 

“i’m… no, i’m fine! just finish the shopping, ill wait in the car” you grunted and gave him your phone with the list, turning around on your heel. 

he has never ran enough a grocery shop so fast in his entire life. 

after almost sprinting to the car and loading the bags, he hopped in and scanned your face in search of pain. there was always a risk of you giving birth sooner than expected so he was just extremely cautious. 

he noticed your swollen eyes and wet tears. maybe it was just the hormones, it’s not like you haven’t cried before because he just killed a fly. (“what if that fly was pregnant too? what if it was a working father? what if–”) 

he started the car and reached out to grab your hand. you just played with his fingers to ease your nerves, a silent drive home. 

for the past two days jaehyun had a feeling that you were avoiding him. you’ve been either sleeping all day or hiding away in your bedroom. 

at the end of the day jaehyun decided to talk to you. but upon walking into the room, he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. your loose shirt was slightly up, your fingers tracking red stretch marks on the side of your stomach. 

“hey baby, what’s up?” he hummed, walking up to you “we haven’t talked in a while, hm? everything okay?” 

you sighed and just pulled the shirt down, covering your belly completely. 

“look at me pretty, come on” he was starting to get worried. kneeling down to settle between your looks, he noticed your teary eyes.  

“i just feel so gross, you know?” you mumbled, gently rubbing your tummy. jaehyun sighed softly, relieved to hear that you’re not in physical pain. he put one of his hands on your knee, rubbing it in a soothing motion “like i know it’s inevitable but everyone keeps making comments and… and i just miss my old body. it may never be the same… and… it’s just dumb”

“don’t listen to haechan, he’s still a kid. he doesn’t know what he’s talking about” jaehyun said, trying to ease the tension 

“i saw the way you looked at the girl, in the store” you mumbled, lips quivering. he furrowed his brows and realization hit him like a ton of bricks. but before he could explain, you went on “and i get it, i’m so ugly now, i don’t even dress up. i can’t even put anything else than sweatpants… and don’t even mention heels. i get you.”

“oh honey… she had a cute outfit, that’s why i looked. i think you have a similar top, by the way. but also, i agree, i turned my head but… her face seemed familiar. you know that it was johnny’s ex?”

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. the cute dimple smile painted his cheeks as he nodded.

“yeah. i just, i don’t know, was so shocked it was her so i just turned around. but not to check her out or anything. because you are–” he started.

“wait, the one with a foot fetish?!” you asked suddenly. 

jaehyun snorted loudly, hanging his head low. and here he was about to be romantic.

“yeah, her” he snickered and looked back up “but my point is, i only have my eyes on you. we both knew that pregnancy will change your body and i admire you so much. you’re so strong. and just know that, whether or not you will go back to your shape… the stretch marks will stay… will grow old and wrinkled… i will love you. those things don’t matter to me”

you shook your head and pulled the shirt over your face, something you did when too embarrassed to cry. and you did, small sobs choking out from under the material.

“you look beautiful to me. you’re carrying our baby girl and you really glow, to me” jaehyun said and stood up, hands going to rest on your shoulders.

“i love you” you cried and put your shirt down only to wrap your hands around his waist and sob into his shirt. he rubbed your skin in a calming way. 

“i love you more, pretty girl” he whispered into your hair.

after you’ve calmed down he helped you lay down and tucked you in. jaehyun laid down next to you and rested his head on his hand, adoring you with a soft smile.

“got it? you’re the prettiest” he hummed and placed a soft kiss on your lips. then, his hand sneaked to lift your shirt a bit.

he traced the red stretch marks with a feather-light touch and then put his hand gently on your belly. he felt small movements and warm feeling spilled over his heart.

“and i bet she’ll be equally beautiful, my little dandelion” your husband whispered softly. and you couldn’t help but grin, looking at his whipped state.

nct masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua + event: @rubywonu

bye bye, daddy | mark lee

synopsis: you and mark have a crying, upset toddler on your hands, and it seems there are only a few things that can make her happy, — like spending time with her daddy, and watching the grinch.

pairing: girl dad!mark x female!reader

genre: fluff, domesticity, established relationship

word count: 2.4k

contains: very loving husband and father mark. very patient mark. christmas themes, santa talk. daughter doesn't have a name, but he calls her "cookie". fluff galore.

author's note: christmas is around the corner so some of the future drabbles im planning to put out will be about christmas <3 meelings (mark feelings) are open (always) (so feel free to discuss anything mark related with me <3)

©️ kongjjen 2024. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

Mark’s keys jingle in his hand before he opens the front door, the delicious smell of dinner hitting his nose as soon as he steps foot inside the house. He knows this smell, the spices, the veggies, the sauces. You’re making a roasting — a dish he loves, that you cook very often during winters, because you know it’s one of his favourites. 

He thinks he could kiss you, if only he could find you. Where are you? 

He thinks you’re in the kitchen, but the roast is sitting perfectly inside the oven, the pan with veggies still cooking on the stove on a small flame, and the bowls with sauces and chutneys sitting on the kitchen counter far away from the edge, that you both know your daughter can reach to steal her mom’s delicious chutney — just to eat with her fingers stealthily by herself.

He throws the keys in the bowl by the entrance, finally taking his jacket off. He wanted to see you so badly that he didn’t even bother to do his routine when he came home, immediately going to look for you. 

There’s something odd going on, he thinks, because your daughter is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and she’s usually at the door the moment she hears the jingling of his keys right before he tries to open the door. Not seeing you and your daughter makes him unsettled just a tiny bit, considering there’s the stove that’s still on and he can’t find you.

He drags his slippers on the hardwood floor towards the living room, and his heart skips a bit seeing you looking through the boxes full of Christmas decorations. 

You and Mark love celebrating Christmas, and ever since you two got married you started establishing family traditions. And now you also have your daughter to pass everything on to. You’ve never skipped decorating the house, putting up a tree, Christmas films and singing carols and Christmas songs while baking cookies or cooking meals, and now you have your daughter to join in on the fun. And thankfully, when it comes to Christmas season, she’s just as enthusiastic as both you and Mark — and she’s a big Santa believer.

“Hi, baby,” Mark rasps from behind you, and you flinch, clutching a few Christmas lights to your chest. You turn around to look at him, your eyes big with what Mark thinks is fear by being taken by surprise, and he giggles. “I’m so sorry, did I scare you?” 

You nod, putting the lights down carefully, and then wrapping your arms tightly around him. 

“I didn’t hear your keys at all!” You sigh, your head falling in the crook of his neck. You inhale his scent, and you sigh once again. You always wondered how’s it possible for your husband to always smell so good, even after a busy and tiring work day.

“Maybe that’s why cookie didn’t come running to the door,” he laughs, pinching your back to make you raise your head from his shoulder. You know that’s his silent sign that he wants you to kiss him.

You giggle, grabbing his cheeks and bringing him in for a soft kiss. His lips are soft as always, and his nose feels cold while touching yours. You peck his lips repeatedly a few more times, before letting go of him. 

“I think cookie is upset, that’s why she didn’t come down from her room,” you finally respond, and Mark takes a seat on the armchair between the many boxes full of decorations. 

“Why?” Mark asks worried, and he picks up a few Christmas lights to untangle them.

“She wouldn’t tell me, but I’m guessing she’ll open up when her tummy is full,” you chuckle, and Mark laughs knowing that you’re right. You both know your daughter will forget about what made her so upset after she’ll eat something.

“What colour you wanna make it this year, baby?” He rasps, looking at the different boxes full with Christmas globes, while his fingers are fast at work untangling the strings full of lights. He really liked the white ones, but he knows you’ve always made it work no matter the colour. The year you found out you were having a baby girl you decorated the Christmas tree with soft pink globes and ornaments, and he loved it, even if he’s never thought pink could ever be a fit for Christmas.

You point at the blue ones, various tones of blue filling the huge box, but then you point your finger at the box containing the white ones, his favourites, and you let him know you’re indecisive. Blue is his favourite colour, but he really, really likes the white ones.

“You can choose what-” you’re interrupted by someone trying the front door handle, and Mark looks worried towards the from door, his neck lurching in its direction immediately.

Both you and Mark see your daughter wearing her warm hello kitty hat, open jacket around her small figure and her pink backpack hanging off her shoulders.

“Cookie? Where are you going?” Mark asks, still stretching his neck to look towards the front door. 

Thank god Mark has the habit of locking the door as soon as he comes home. 

“Bye bye mommy!” She blurts out, “Bye bye daddy!” She tries the door handle once again, but the door doesn’t open, so she’s left standing helpless in front of it.

Mark throws you a look, just to find you already looking back at him. You both look at her, and she doesn’t move for ten good seconds, before she turns around with tears in her eyes. 

You both know not to panic, knowing that your daughter can be a little drama queen sometimes.

“Bye bye mommy and daddy? Where are you off to?” He asks her, seeing as she’s still standing there.

“The North Pole,” she explains, her voice trembling a bit.

“The North Pole?” You ask, and you and Mark look at each other once again. He raises his eyebrows at you, asking you what’s going on, but unfortunately for him, you don’t have any idea either. “That’s where Santa lives,”

“Yes,” she blurts out, tears streaming down her puffy cheeks, “I’m bringing him my letter,” 

“Your letter? But it’s too early, cookie,” Mark intervenes, and it’s one of those times he doesn’t know where this conversation is going — and one of those very few times when he doesn’t know what’s going on inside his daughter’s head.

“It’s not! Yuka and Soo already sent theirs!” She speaks clearly this time, but she’s still full of rage, you can see it in her big expressive eyes, that she took from Mark.

It all clicks in your and Mark’s heads. It’s not the first time your four year old is influenced by her kindergarten friends, and it doesn’t matter how many times you and Mark tried telling her that she doesn’t have to do what everyone else is doing, she’s still a four year old child at the end of the day.

“Cookie, but you’re not Yuka, or Soo!” You explain, preparing your big Christmas traditions speech, hoping for Mark to jump in at some point, because she always listens to him and understands things best when he’s the one doing the explaining, or nagging. Even though the nagging part is almost never happening, coming from him.

“Mommy’s right, cookie,” Mark moves a bit in his seat, making eye contact with her, “We didn’t even set the tree up! We send the letter to Santa when we’re done with the tree here,” he points at the spot where you usually put the tree up. “But if you want to go to Santa’s house you can go, we’ll see you in January,”

She stays still for a bit, before she registers what her dad just said. 

“January? But Christmas is in December!” She freaks out, eyes already brimming with tears. 

“Yes, but Santa lives far away, by the time you'll come back me and mommy will have the tree already put back in the box,” he talks to her like he would to a grown up, and that’s what you love about Mark. 

He’s such a good father, he always treats her as a human first, and child second. He’ll try to explain to her why some things are good, why some things are bad, he always challenges her development and skills by treating her like a grown up. You and Mark always encourage her to speak her mind, express her feelings and what’s going on inside her mind, to tell you all her worries and fears. As a writer, Mark always challenges her imagination and creativity, making her come up with stories and all sorts of plots that he sometimes uses in his own books, discussing things with her like he would with his editor.

 And most importantly, as parents, you always work hard to make her understand that she doesn’t have to do everything her friends do. She’s still a baby, your baby, but neither you nor Mark would ever forgive yourselves if you knew something happened to her because you weren’t cautious enough and good parents.

“So you better go now, if you want to reach his house before Christmas,” Mark encourages, falsely busying himself with the Christmas lights in his lap. 

“But I can’t miss Christmas!” She throws a fit, panicking at the same time. She looks desperately at you, asking for help, but you know better than crossing Mark’s words and tactics. Parenting 101.

“Maybe you should wait a bit, cookie,” Mark turns to her once again, “Mommy is making some roasting, you should bring a bit to Santa as well, as a gift,”

“We have roasting?” She freaks out once again. The idea of missing the sauce and chutney brings her to the breaking point, and hearing her father instructing her to leave soon makes her cry immediately. 

She starts sobbing, unconsoled and alone in the entry hallway, holding her white teddy bear, Sugar, tightly. Your heart breaks for her, but you know she needs to learn not to sneak out of the house in the future, and to always come to you or Mark if she needs help.

“Why are you crying?” Mark asks, finally putting the lights away, still as tangled as before. “Come to daddy, cookie,” he instructs, opening his arms, and the crying girl launches towards him.

The moment she feels her daddy engulfing her in a warm embrace, she starts sobbing uncontrollably, holding his grey sweater tight in her small fist.  He pats her back, kissing her forehead trying to comfort her.

“I don’t wanna go!” She screams, snot already reaching her mouth, and between screams she licks her lips. You try your best to hold your laugh in, not wanting to distress her even more, but you know you and Mark will have the best talk later tonight after putting her to bed.

“Then you don’t have to go, cookie,” you reassure her, crouching down at Mark’s feet to get a better view of your daughter. “But what were you thinking? Sneaking out without telling me and daddy?” 

“Sorry,” she sobs, feeling ashamed. 

“Daddy will help you with the letter, but we always do it after the tree is up, yeah?” He reassures her, “Let’s do things the good way, cookie, the way we usually do, not the way others tell us to do, alright?”

“So you didn’t forget?” She whispers, fearing her father’s response. 

“Forget writing to Santa? Never!” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, scoffing, all while looking at you. “Daddy will help you, like I always do!”

She stops crying, already sweating from wearing the big fluffy hat on her head, and Mark takes it off immediately, smoothing her hair with his gentle touch.

“Can daddy see the letter you wrote?” Mark pats her on the back to have her attention, gesture that’s the equivalent of the pinch he gives you when he wants your attention.

She separates herself from her daddy, sniffing briefly before reaching behind herself for her backpack. She takes a crumpled piece of paper out, handing it to Mark, who opens it so you can see as well.

Vertical, horizontal lines fill the otherwise blank page, only god knows what she meant when she wrote them. There are a few drawings at the bottom of the page, made hurriedly — you and Mark both recognise she hurried and wasn’t as careful as she usually is, desperate to finish it fast and leave to personally take it to Santa’s. A cat, a bunny, a bike, a few princesses scattered around, wearing all sorts of coloured gowns.

You and Mark already know what to get her for Christmas, but writing the letter for her will give you the confirmation of her wishes. You already smile thinking of Mark’s pretty handwriting filling the flimsy page.

“Can we watch the Grinch, daddy?” You daughter asks, licking the snot above her lip away. 

You look at Mark, who’s already looking at you, and he makes a small movement with his head, pointing towards the kitchen, clearly giving you a way out before it’s too late. You’re very lucky to have your daughter obsessed with your husband, and you’re even more lucky to have a patient husband who loves your daughter incredibly much, she’s his whole world. 

You take the opportunity to leave them alone, going back to the kitchen to keep an eye on the roasting and the veggies still cooking slowly on the stove, hearing your daughter from the other room, and how she’s chewing her daddy’s ears off talking about scenes from the Grinch. 

And Mark, poor soul, he has to sit on the couch with his little girl, watching the cartoon as if he hasn’t already watched it thirty thousand times. He knows the jokes, the lines, it’s like he wrote the thing himself. And he wonders how his little girl doesn’t get tired of it, ever.

But hopefully, you’ll save him soon enough like you always do, bringing some lame excuse up just to save him. Hopefully, tonight you’ll need someone to stir your veggies.

im in those moods lol. pls send good angsty nct recs 😭

he’s been taking notes from jimin

call me your favorite. (and call me the worst) | prologue.

★ himbo(jock)!s.mingi x reader!

★ genre | college au, slowburn, angst, and smut (in later parts)

★ summary | song mingi seems to be on every corner. he’s following you around, asking for help with work, and teaching you the grounds of your newly joined sorority. being in a fraternity himself, it’s the only subject he knows the most about—and the subject you most despise.

★ word count | 500+

★ sun’s notes | HELLOOOO READERS, wow a new series from me, but this time i’m actually dedicated. I hope for this series to be about 3-5 parts, not including the prologue (this part) and the epilogue. requested by my lovely @moamidzyism. also it’s lowkey my ateez writing debut? JOIN TAGLIST!! | MAIN M.LIST

You can feel the thumping bass from the speakers resonating in your chest as you push through the large group of people. There’s the smell of illegal substances that fills the entire room as everyone loses their damn senses to the intoxication.

You look around to see girls in their greek letters and guys in their own frat letters as well looking for a good time. Equally important, you spot your friend in the corner, and you remember why you came in the first place.

Honestly, you would’ve pulled her off and probably save her some of the embarrassment of exchanging saliva with some random dude—but this is the life she lives for.

This isn’t you.

The reek of weed was clouding your nostrils, almost burning your sensitive nose hairs. Not to mention the alcohol either, you took one measly sip and now you’re trying not to puke up your lunch. It was a nice attempt at trying to get the full college experience, but you rather sneak out, or even curl up in an unoccupied room.

Anything.

Just anything to escape this overwhelming pressure, like the whole room is watching you pretend to be something you’re not.

In reality though, nobody is really watching you—nobody even really cares.

You weren’t there to enjoy it, and you didn't quite fit in with the demeanor of the people surrounding you. Even though, you mustered up the courage to push through the cluster of bodies, cringing as you heard their deafening cheers as they guzzled down shot glasses.

With aching arms and feet, you made it through the crowd and soon found yourself face to face with the stairwell, leading up to a safe-haven.

You had no time hesitate, and as you clung onto the cold wood of the staircase, you were grateful to be away from the chaos of the main floor at last. The silence was blissful and you could finally think clearly again. You ran up the stairs and soon arrived at a small door. As you twisted the knob and shut the door behind you, you released a deep sigh.

You plop down on the warm cushion of the bed and check your phone, internally sighing at the time being 1am. Tonight was going to be harder than you thought. You couldn’t possibly leave early either, because you have Bee to look after.

Even though she may be a wild card, she’s still your friend and it would be unloyal of you to leave her…in the state she’s in.

You make your way to the closed bathroom door and as you get it ajar, you see a couple raw dogging it on the counter.

Okay.

Maybe this was a bad dream, because no way you just walked into this humongous man railing this girl. To be frank, she looks a hot ass mess like they’ve been going at it for hours. You may or may not have stared at them for a little longer than you should’ve out of disbelief.

“Holy shit!”, you screamed in utter shock— a delayed reaction but a well deserved one. The mystery man looks at you and palms his face in more so disappointment than embarrassment. The girl, who was obviously getting fucked, gets shy and hurriedly picks up her belongings and runs out of the bathroom and out of sight.

The moment was embarrassing, to say the least. Not even a “hello” or any formal introduction. What was even more embarrassing is you knew this dude.

“Mingi?!”

“Oh hey, Pumpkin.”

Song Mingi, if you went to the University of Westbrook, you know exactly who he is. Notorious for being the talk of the campus, and being insanely hot. To you, he’s just a man you somehow keep running into—a man you can’t stand.

Also, that stupid nickname ‘pumpkin’, yeah he started calling you that when you forced him to bring you pumpkin spice lattes everytime he wanted your expertise tutoring. He never failed to get you the drink though, he knew he needed the extra help and you— well you knew you liked pumpkin spice lattes.

But there’s a problem, because no way in hell are you looking at him pulling up his boxers and red sweats after seeing his bare ass cheeks. No you didn’t want to see that, and you definitely didn’t want to see him sweat drenched.

Thankfully, you didn’t see his private parts. That would’ve been the end of your tutoring sessions, and sadly, lattes.

Mingi always had a flirtatious and smug attitude, he just swore he could get any girl. So maybe this isn’t the most unrealistic thing that could happen, but it sure is shocking for you to see of all people.

He stands there with a smirk on his face, not at all embarrassed or ashamed, and he barely pulls up his sweatpants. He runs his fingers through his sweaty hair, while he lets out a low chuckle and says, “Isn’t the view nice?” referring to his shirt being off.

You grip the doorframe tight, as you take a deep breath and reply “Absolutely not.”

Feeling deflated and exhausted, you just want to go home. You take a few steps towards away from the frame and sternly say “Get dressed.” before closing the bathroom door and walking away.

Meanwhile while Mingi was situating himself, You're lying spread-eagle on the bed, eyes closed and arms stretched out.

“I wish you could’ve caught me in the middle of a perfect stroke,” Mingi chuckled at his own joke through the closed door.

You didn’t even crack a smile, that’s how unfunny his jokes were.

Loud music seeps under the door, making it the only companion in the otherwise silent room. Suddenly, the door creaks open and you turn to look- it's Mingi wearing a grey hoodie, rubbing his head from its damp state. He walks over to the side of the bed, and as he sat the bed sunk to his weight.

“Not your type of crowd, pumpkin?” He asks, as he adjusts his hoodie.

You sigh, your eyes still closed, and say “It's never been.”

Mingi lets out a belly laugh and replies, “Well, you'll get used to it. You're joining the party life after all.”

You look up at Mingi, unsure what to say. He was always so confident in everything he did, and maybe that's what made you trust him so much. You have to give him his props, he’s made a name for himself regardless of his bad grades.

That’s got to be some type of accomplishment, right?

“Is it too late to back out of the sorority life? I’m pretty over it already,” you said, hoping he would have some pieces of wisdom maybe even some reassurance.

Mingi scoffed and said, “Nope pumpkin, we have a deal. You tutor me and I help you gain your way to fame.” He pushes himself up from the bed, his hand held out demanding for you to do the same.

“Okay, time to get up and out of here,” he said.

You roll your eyes, quickly responding, “Can’t. Bee is downstairs. Won’t leave her.”

Mingi then took your hand in his and pulled you up from the bed, you could tell he used all his strength because you could’ve swore you had wings for a second.

“I’m sure she can handle herself, trust me, I know a spot.”

In all honesty, you could’ve did anything else in the world— but trust this man.