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solarwonux · 7 months ago

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Business Proposal || knj (9/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

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10 Years Ago

Things were finally looking up.

“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off.

You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers.

Maybe things weren't really looking up.

“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up.

He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks.

Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final.

It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test.

The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.

You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse.

Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day.

“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called.

Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again.

In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook.

Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student.

“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months.

“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe.

“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you.

“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.

You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.”

Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee.

You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.”

Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.

“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink.

“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles.

You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.

Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship.

Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers.

He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break.

There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck.

During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years.

Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.

He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles.

You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.

“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles.

If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit.

“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in.

Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe.

You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side.

“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.”

You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea.

“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–

“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance.

If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page.

Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?”

You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.”

“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.”

Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.”

“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page.

Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture.

Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes.

Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.

Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.

His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago.

You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not.

One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him.

When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure.

A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.

It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion.

It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up?

“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between.

Now you're more than positive that something is wrong.

You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders.

This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion.

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room.

“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned.

With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.”

At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders.

“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest.

He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit.

His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you.

For what?

You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out.

“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion.

When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point.

Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.”

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.”

“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you.

He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling.

Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue.

He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet.

As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too.

With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.

You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?”

He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?”

The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him.

Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head.

He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.”

“I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.

“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?”

Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates.

Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him.

Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.”

“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.

“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side.

You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end.

He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “

“Who?”

“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.

Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort.

Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space.

He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back.

He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years.

For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it.

Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now.

He cares.

In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has.

He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage? Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved?

So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other.

Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing.

He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same.

You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble.

You're his girlfriend now.

He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too.

“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one.

You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room.

He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him.

“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you.

His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one.

“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand.

He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.”

Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks.

You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.”

He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face.

It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.

Hoseok would always be the one who got away.

Your big “what if.”

Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love.

“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt.

“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures, his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder.

You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt.

The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste.

He could never wait. And he never did.

He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.

He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks.

“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine.

“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub.

You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment.

Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop.

“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment.

“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again.

You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows.

“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.”

You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees.

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.

The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything.

Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest.

Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end.

“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him.

He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on.

“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.

He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.”

You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.

Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart.

“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”

You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.”

You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.”

You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?”

“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs.

“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt.

“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head.

“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room.

“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment.

You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy.

So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up.

“You’re late.”

Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses.

You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”

“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book.

You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds.

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”

Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.”

Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book.

You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list.

Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for?

“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.”

“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book.

“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood.

“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.

“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”

Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.”

“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff.

Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?”

The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate.

“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.”

Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.”

If only it were that easy.

“I’d love to but he never has time.”

“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter.

“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–”

“No, I’m not busy now.”

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.

All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous.

“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground.

You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.

“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you.

“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table.

You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying.

Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.”

You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.”

“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.”

“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks.

The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public.

“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?”

Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder.

“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.” You add bitterly.

“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.”

You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.”

You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.”

He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.”

“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist.

His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”

You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table.

Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?”

“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”

Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?”

“No but it was basically implied.” You emphasize.

“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner.

“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket.

He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside.

Namjoon is happy.

His friends are happy.

Things in his life were finally looking up.

“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders.

You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side.

Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.

He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too.

a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!

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libraryofgage · 9 months ago

Text

The Prince and the Metalhead (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

I know I just posted part one but I've got Thoughts for this AU that include: Steve's first birthday in Genovia and then his 16th, his conversation with his grandmother about attending public school in America for his senior year, and then we get into him attending Hawkins High and meeting Eddie!

So, yeah, plans lmao

Anyway, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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"You'll have a rotating course schedule. Mondays and Wednesdays will focus on math and social studies. Tuesdays and Thursdays will be science and literature. Friday will be Royalty lessons and the history of Genovia. We can also include an elective, if you'd like."

Steve blinks, staring at Sue for a moment before glancing at Jonathan and Robin. Jonathan is looking through a book of photography and Robin is idly scratching behind Dart’s ears. "Will we all have the same elective?" Steve asks.

"Not unless Jonathan and Robin want to join you," Sue says, looking at Steve expectantly. She's got a pen at the ready to write down what he says, and it suddenly feels like a lot of pressure.

Is there a wrong answer here? Is there an answer that gets him sent back to his parents? He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood. Before he can lose himself in his thoughts, a cold and wet nose presses against his hand. Steve blinks, smiling at Dart and picking her up to hold close. "What kind of electives are there?" he asks.

Sue hums softly, flipping to another page on her clipboard. "Possible electives include art, music, theatrical performance, physical education, equestrian studies, botany, and foreign languages, to name a few."

"I'll be taking photography lessons," Jonathan says, looking up at Steve and gesturing to his book.

Robin nods and leans back on her palms. "I'll be doing the physical stuff. Like learning how to fight and practicing ballet to improve my balance," she says, leveling a look at Steve that dares him to say anything about the ballet.

Steve wouldn't, though. He doesn't want to make Robin angry enough to ditch him. He looks down at Dart, thinking for a moment before asking, "Can I take more than one?"

"Of course, but you're limited to three for now," Sue says.

What would be the most helpful? Foreign languages, probably, since he'll definitely have to speak with ambassadors from other countries at some point. He should also learn something that can be shown off, a skill that he could pull out at functions to make his grandmother proud or distract guests.

"What language should I learn?" he asks.

Sue thinks for a moment, tapping her pen against her chin. "Mandarin. It's a business language, and we have close relations with a few representatives from China and Hong Kong. If you'd like to learn a Romantic language first, though, Spanish is good."

"I'll learn Mandarin," Steve decides, nodding once to himself. "And music. I want to learn to play...hmm...the piano."

With a nod, Sue writes his electives down. "Let me know if you'd like to add an elective later, Your Highness. In my opinion, though, your current courses will keep you properly challenged for now."

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Sue wasn't kidding about his academics being challenging. Steve struggles in math, muddles his way through science, drags himself through literature, and is ready to drop when he hits social studies. He'd ask the tutors to spend more time on topics, but Robin and Jonathan seem to have no problem keeping up, and Steve can't bring himself to disrupt their pace.

His Mandarin lessons are going just slightly better if only because the tutor seems to recognize that slower is better for him. After almost a month, he's starting to understand intonation and vocal variation better, and he can recognize a few characters on sight.

Piano lessons are also going well. His tutor there doesn't burden him with theory; she introduces the keys, shows him how to read sheet music, and then lets him choose songs to learn. Steve feels the most at ease when he's squinting at sheet music and slowly pressing piano keys into something recognizable.

The lessons he really looks forward to, however, are the ones for his Royalty Education. He gets to see his grandmother then, and she spends the whole day with him. Even better, something about this stuff just clicks. He's good at fixing his posture and memorizing silverware placement. He bows just right on his first try and his grandmother compliments his wave.

By the end of the lesson, she'll be smiling, her pride obvious, and take him for a walk in the gardens or to eat cookies in the kitchen.

"Royalty requires maintenance," Clarisse says, standing in front of Steve with relaxed shoulders. "You maintain your demeanor, your image, your knowledge of foreign dignitaries, your understanding of the people’s needs, and your humility. But you must also maintain your pride and your boundaries."

"That sounds like a lot," Steve says, idly tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"It can be overwhelming, but it becomes second nature in time," Clarisse explains, smiling reassuringly. "When you're royalty, you are constantly watched. Many eyes are kind or curious, but others are malicious, and you want to do everything you can to disappoint the malicious ones."

"How?"

"By acting like the Crown Prince you are."

"What kind of prince am I?" Steve asks, finally voicing the question that's been lingering since these lessons started. What kind of prince does his grandmother want? What kind of prince would best serve the people? What kind of prince will be so loved by all that nobody could even think of thinking about getting rid of him?

Clarisse hums, thinking for a moment. "I suppose a good one," she says, her slight smile telling Steve that she's only lightly teasing. "My hope is that you'll be kind and competent. You will make Genovia prosperous without compromising tradition. You won't allow politics to stand in the way of doing what's right by the people of Genovia. But this is a tiring job, so I hope you'll learn how to balance your duties with relaxation."

It's a lot, but Steve can do it. He can be that kind of prince, especially for the country and grandmother that's offered everything he's ever wanted and more. He nods once. "Okay," he says, "What do I need to learn, then?"

Clarisse smiles fondly at him. "Let's start by reviewing Genovian history. Only by knowing the past can you face the future."

With that, she places a book on Steve's desk and doesn't wait for him to open it before telling him about Genovia's founding.

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Steve has weekends off from classes, which leaves him with more free time than he knows what to do with when he doesn't have to clean a house or make his own meals. So, he's bored, and telling Robin that he was bored was a huge mistake after she suggested riding bikes around the garden only to learn Steve didn't know how.

She'd insisted that he should learn, insisted that Clarisse be the one who teaches him, and insisted on hearing no objections.

And now he's here, standing in front of Clarisse's desk and staring down at his feet as she finishes writing something on the paper in front of her. Joe is standing just to her right, hands behind his back.

"Okay," Clarisse says, gently placing her pen on the desk before looking at Steve with an encouraging smile. "What did you want to ask me, Steve?"

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, takes a deep breath, and looks up. "Well, um, Robin wants to ride bikes, but I don't know how," he says.

"Well, that's easily fixed," Clarisse says, reaching for a phone at the corner of her desk. "I'm sure a member of staff is free to teach you."

Before she can pick up the phone, Steve finds himself blurting out, "Well, I...I was hoping...you could teach me."

Clarisse freezes, blinking twice with confusion before looking at Steve. "You want me to teach you?" she asks. When Steve nods once, she sighs softly. "A queen does not ride bikes. Besides, I have too much work to complete. Perhaps I could accompany you for a walk this evening to make up for it."

Despite himself, despite bracing for rejection, it still hurts. In the three months he's been in Genovia, Clarisse has agreed to just about every request he's made. Every held breath as he waits for cruel words has been released with unprecedented relief when none came. Even when he broke something---a priceless vase, according to Jonathan---his grandmother had simply surveyed the damage, thanked him for being honest, and asked him to avoid kicking soccer balls in the presence of priceless vases in the future.

Perhaps Steve has gotten too comfortable. He shouldn't be pushing like this. If he wants his grandmother's affection, he should know when to hold himself back.

So, despite the unfamiliar urge to ask again in case Clarisse might change her mind, Steve nods once. "I look forward to walking with you, Grandmother," he says, his voice quiet. He glances up, waiting long enough to see Clarisse's smile before turning on his heel and leaving the office as quickly as he can.

Clarisse watches him go, her head slightly tilted as the door closes silently behind Steve. She nods once, glad that Steve is sensible enough to understand things like work and propriety, and picks up her pen once more.

"If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?" Joe asks.

"At this point, Joe, you may as well assume the answer is yes."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, and please pardon my French, my experience has been that assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

It takes a moment for Clarisse to understand the joke. When she does, she can't help her amused smile. "Fair enough," she says, "Go ahead, Joe."

"Do you remember what I said about being Steve's grandmother?"

"Yes, of course."

"Perhaps now is one of those moments where being a grandmother is more important than being a queen. His Highness does not ask for much, and he is not the kind to ask more than once, even if he really wants something. I imagine it took a significant amount of courage to ask you to teach him in the first place."

"Are you suggesting that I...I risk making a fool of myself for all to see?" Clarisse asks.

"I am suggesting you spend time with your grandson, who asks very little of you because he does not believe he can ask for anything."

Clarisse is silent a moment, letting Joe's words process and settle in her brain. Finally, she sighs and gestures to the papers on her desk. "I have work to complete," she says.

"Your Majesty, editing these proposals was on your schedule two weeks from now. You are ahead of your work. A break would not be unreasonable or unwarranted."

Well, when he puts it like that.

Clarisse sighs, leans back in her chair, and looks up at Joe. He's still staring at the door, giving no indication that he feels her eyes on him, but she knows he does. "Have a groundskeeper retrieve bikes and safety gear and meet us in the garden," she says, standing from her chair and bracing herself to look like an utter fool.

Her apprehension fades away fifteen minutes later. It can't hold last when she sees Steve's surprised and delighted expression at her presence. As she helps him put on knee and elbow pads, shows him how to pull the helmet's strap tight, and holds the bike steady as he sits on it, Clarisse decides a little foolishness is perfectly fine (necessary, even) if it will keep the smile on Steve's face.

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Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv, @potato-of-the-lord,

#stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #princess diaries crossover #queen clarisse renaldi #modern royalty au #future steddie #robin buckley #jonathan byers #the party's parents #my writing #anybody else ever have that experience where the first time you realize that somebody won't make you feel guilty for asking for things #you get way in your head about not asking for the one (1) thing that will ruin it all for you #so every time you ask for something new you're bracing to take the request back as quickly as you can #just me?#aight then lmao #to absolutely nobody's surprise i am projecting on steve harrington #if you made it this far in the tags #you deserve a cookie lmao

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phoenixblaze1412 · 1 year ago

Note

Hello there, i really loved the child!reader x dottore, could i ask for maybe a oneshot (or headcannons) for wholesome moments where reader is happily playing with dottore and his segments or anything to your liking?

Very well^^ I'll also introduce some of the other segments here

Let me introduce the segments, starting from the youngest segment up to Dottore himself.

Kappa, the seven year old segment, would always be your playmate whenever you're done studying. You two could be seen everywhere together. You would teach Kappa some other children games you learned from Childe due to you unable to leave the palace.

Eta, the teen segment, is one who babysits you the most, along with Kappa. He would make sure you don't get hurt whenever you're running around the laboratory. The first time you were introduced to him, he saw you as nothing but an insignificant pest. After taking care of you and getting to know you, he became more like a guard dog and would glare at others who even tried to get a few meters close to you.

Iota, the Akademiya segment, would be one of the segments who would teach you how to read and write, sometimes even solve some equations of your level. He would mostly teach you science and math. He would call you a mutt. It doesn't matter to him if you pout at the nickname he gave you, he would always call you a mutt. Why? You easily obey and listen to everything you were told, even act like a mutt. One time Iota was waving a lollipop in front of you and he would watch you follow the sweet with your hands out. When he told you he wouldn't give you the candy, you gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes that he sighed and gave you the candy.

Epsilon, pre-fatui Dottore segment, is one who would feed you sweets as a reward and would even teach you how to make them. You developed a sweet tooth thanks to him.

Theta, we know him as Webttore, the one who went to Mondstadt with Krupp, is also one of your tutors. He would teach you how to read and write. Him and Zandik (Original Dottore) are the only ones who can understand your handwriting. Would teasingly call you a dumbass because of your clumsiness and stupidity.

Beta, the other Webttore in the webtoon, the one who was annoyed because of the letter received from Mondstadt. He would be your babysitter whenever Eta is busy. Him and Gamma are mostly the troublemakers in the laboratory but they will make sure you don't get harmed from their mischief.

Gamma, one who teaches you anything related to fire. He is known as a pyromaniac that sometimes Zandik has to debate if he should let you under Gamma's care due to his worries that you might get burned. Nothing to fear, Gamma makes sure you're wearing protective gear. One time he singed the tips of your hair that he had to cut it short so there won't be any evidence the others could find. He bribed you with candy if you can manage to lie to Zandik on why you came back to him with short hair.

Zandik, the original Dottore himself, the one who took you in and raised you under his care, would be the last person you would always go to whenever the day ends and night time came. Due to him working in his laboratory overtime, his lack of sleep has been getting worse. The only person he would listen to aside from the Tsaritsa and Pierro is you. You would always make sure he would be sleeping with you, doesn't matter if it's on a couch or on the bed as long as you both slumber peacefully.

The sound of your footsteps could be heard as you walked down the hallways of the palace. You were a bit upset that your father didn't come visit you so you both can sleep. You would usually get nightmares whenever you don't get to sleep with someone holding you. You didn't want to bother the other segments since they were really busy with the project that they were planning to commence on Sumeru. They didn't tell you much details since they said they were 'big words for you to understand'... they didn't know that you understood every word thanks to the dictionary your Uncle Pantalone gifted you.

Letting out a small huff from all the walking, you finally reached your father's office. Standing on your tiptoes and reaching for the doorknob, you were able to open the door and quickly tiptoed inside. You immediately saw your father's figure working on his desk, the sound of his pen writing against paper is the one thing heard throughout the room.

"Papa." you chirped out as you made your way around the desk and laid your head on top of Zandik's knees.

Zandik let out a small hum in reply as he briefly glanced at you before turning his attention back to his documents, his hand making its way to lightly ruffle your hair while his other hand continued to write. You let out a pout when your father didn't even stop with his work.

"It's already close to midnight, Papa. You didn't come to sleep when you told me you were almost done with work. You got to sleep soon! You're gonna look like a panda in my storybooks with your big eyebags!"

Zandik placed his pen down as he looked at you with a raised brow. You were confused at his reaction but was immediately surprised when your face was being squished.

"A panda? Is that how you're going to refer to your father now? Oh, how you wound me, dear. You cheeky little pup." Zandik said as he pulled and pinch at your cheeks with a small grin. You whined as you pulled away from his grasp, holding your swollen cheeks as you playfully glare at your father.

"Are you finished with work now, Papa? Can we go to sleep?"

Zandik glanced at the documents at his desk before returning his attention towards you, letting out a tired sigh as he stood up from his seat before picking you up. He decided to finish the rest tomorrow since if he doesn't sleep then that would mean you wouldn't sleep either, he didn't want to see his own child be cranky in the morning due to the lack of rest.

Letting out a small hum, Zandik laid you both down on the couch in his office, too tired to walk all the way to your bedroom. You laid your head against your father's shoulder and let out a yawn. You felt a hand rub the back of your head as you heard your father humming a small tune your Aunt Columbina sang to you back then. As much as Zandik despised singing, he did admit the tune was able to lull you to sleep.

When he heard your soft snoring, he tried to put you down on the couch but you had a tight grip on his clothes. Zandik let out a sigh as he adjusted his position so that you were asleep in his arms while leaning his head against the couch. A small smile appeared on his face as he watched you sleep in his hold. He found it ironic how an innocent child could sleep so peacefully in the arms of a mad man. Nonetheless, Zandik swore to himself that he wouldn't let you be in danger.

"May your dreams be kind tonight, my dear." Zandik mumbled as he placed a small kiss to your temple and drifted off to sleep as well.

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There's still more segments that are left to be known. Let me know if you guys wanted a part two for it.

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#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #female reader #gender neutral reader #il dottore x reader #child reader

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jujumin-translates · 7 months ago

Text

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 3 - One Step Up

*Door opens*

Kumon: We’re back~!

Juza: We’re home.

Taichi: I’m starving~.

Tenma: Looks like Omi-san’s in charge of dinner tonight.

Tsuzuru: Smells like it’s something with a demi-glace sauce…

Omi: The beef stew will be ready soon.

Kumon: Woo~! I was hoping to eat some meat~!

Kazunari: The Yosei Uni Gang’s really building up their forces~.

Muku: Kyu-chan’s the only new one, though.

Yuki: But he’s got the presence of about two or three people.

Tsumugi: How’s college life been going, Kumon-kun?

Kumon: It’s super interesting! Unlike with my classes in high school, I actually feel motivated to study on my own.

Kumon: Plus I get to be with Nii-chan!

Banri: I figured you had had that planned from the start, but you actually didn’t decide on where you were gonna go for school until much later, right?

Kumon: Hey, I thought about it a lot, y’know.

Kumon: And I didn’t just think about Nii-chan, I also made sure to think about the best college for me to go to.

Azami: The growth of someone with a brother complex.

Yuki: They still ended up at the same college, though.

Kumon: That’s ‘cause Nii-chan and Tenma-san seemed like they really liked it there!

Tenma: Well, you are right about that.

Juza: Glad ya got accepted in.

Taichi: You’ve been doing great with writing essays and doing job interview prep~.

Kumon: Hehe. That’s thanks to you, Nii-chan, and Tenma-san for teaching me so much!

Chikage: It’s so touching to see Tenma becoming the tutor.

Tenma: Thanks for that.

Kazunari: Yawn~…

Tsuzuru: You seem tired, Miyoshi-san.

Kazunari: I had a deadline for some urgent work yesterday. Hardly got any sleep~.

Tsuzuru: Good work.

Muku: You suddenly seem like much more of an adult, Kazu-kun.

Kazunari: What I do is kinda just an extension of what I did in college, but once that label of “student” is gone, it makes you a little more conscious of it.

Omi: It’s a lot of work and responsibility, but it’s also a lot of fun.

Tsuzuru: Is that so…

Kazunari: You’ll get what we’re talking about in a year, Tsuzurun~.

Izumi: Omi-kun’s right, your impression of things changes once you graduate from college.

Azuma: I enjoy seeing these changes every year once spring comes.

Homare: Yes, however, there are still some of us that haven’t changed much at all.

Azuma: It’s thanks to everyone that spring is nice like this.

Tasuku: Well, even though some of us haven’t been through any major changes, I’m sure we’re all busy with something, right?

Guy: It appears that you’ve been getting more and more requests to do guest appearances, Takato.

Sakuya: Ah, actually, I’m about to get an offer to perform on a slightly bigger stage too--.

Tsumugi: Really? That’s great.

Tasuku: That’s probably the result of steadily building up your experience. Shows how much you’ve become recognized as an actor.

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

Citron: I have started getting pressured to do arts and culture-related work from all over the place~.

Itaru: And I’m still annoyed that I’m stuck being treated like some mid-level NPC…

Chikage: That’s normal for having worked there for five years.

Guy: Speaking of that, I’ve been entrusting Mikage with more work, too.

Hisoka: I know how to make a few appetizers now…

Tasuku: What, like toasted marshmallows and marshmallow pizza?

Hisoka: Well, yeah, but there’s other stuff too.

Homare: To be dabbling in dishes other than ones with marshmallows… that’s quite remarkable progress!

Misumi: Speaking of new things, my friend Mii-chan just had a litter of kitties~.

Muku: Congratulations!

Yuki: Why are you congratulating the Trianglien for it?

Izumi: Seems like everything’s going smoothly for the company while each of you is moving forward and changing in your own ways.

Izumi: That reminds me, the kid we met today also said he was going to be a new high school student starting in the spring.

Kumon: Huh~, what was he like?

Tsuzuru: He was an interesting one, for sure.

Masumi: He wasn’t interesting, he was annoying.

Itaru: He was an avid Masumi fan.

Izumi: He said he used to live in a rural area and that he’s been supporting us for quite some time via our streams.

Sakyo: Is that the power of MIZUNO Enterprises…?

Sakyo: We’ll have to keep up our efforts to reach an even wider audience.

Izumi: He said he was really looking forward to seeing one of our performances live.

Tasuku: There is just something different about seeing a play in person.

Sakuya: There really is. He was really looking forward to seeing it, so we’ll have to do our best not to disappoint.

Izumi: Ah, right! The idea came to me when we were talking to that kid, but--.

Izumi: How does a workshop aimed at beginners sound for the upcoming event?

Izumi: When I realized that people were interested in theater because of MANKAI Company’s performances, I thought that maybe promoting theater as a concept could be necessary too.

Izumi: And I think it’d be a good experience for us to share the joy of plays with them more directly and to have fun together.

Sakuya: That’s true, that could be a really good idea!

Citron: It sounds very fun!

Chikage: But wouldn’t people who have more experience with theater, like Tenma, Tasuku, or Tsumugi, be more suitable for teaching people than us Spring Troupe members?

Tsuzuru: He’s got a point, most of us are still pretty inexperienced actors. I mean, almost all of us were complete amateurs until a few years ago.

Masumi: I can do it.

Itaru: You’re probably the least qualified to teach.

Izumi: That’s the point. You all still feel like amateurs and remember how you felt when you first stepped on stage just a few years ago.

Izumi: I’m confident that you guys will be able to convey theater from a perspective that’s closer to a beginner’s.

Izumi: It’s not a workshop for actors, and it’s definitely not just for teaching like Yuzo-san’s workshops…

Izumi: I think it should be about just trying to enjoy theater together, just like if you were reminiscing about your old selves. That’s the best we can do, I think.

Izumi: And it could be an opportunity to expand our fan base too…

Izumi: I think it’s only because of how everyone is now that we can try to make people more aware of theater.

Sakuya: Yeah… I get it. Up until now, we’ve just been doing our best in regards to ourselves, but now…

Itaru: Exactly. Maybe we’ll be able to have some fun together.

Chikage: We could be our own motivation.

Tsuzuru: Maybe I’ll even be able to get a hint for our next play.

Citron: I will take on any challenge!

Izumi: Alright, it’s decided!

Izumi: Once the date is decided on, can you take care of the flier design, Kazunari-kun?

Kazunari: You betcha!

Izumi: I’ll take care of the printing and distributing myself then.

Masumi: I’ll help.

Itaru: We’ll also need an announcement on our social media, right? Leave it to me.

Chikage: It’d be a good idea to also put something on the theater noticeboard, right?

Izumi: Alright, I’ll leave all the announcement-related stuff to you two, and then… Sakuya-kun and Citron-kun, can I leave outlining the workshop to you guys?

Sakuya: Roger that!

Citron: We will think of an eggciting workshop that will eggcite everyone~!

Manager: Ah, everyo~ne, it’s almost time~!

Kumon: We gotta turn on the TV!

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#a3!#a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #itaru chigasaki #citron #chikage utsuki #kumon hyodo

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sheepheadfred · 14 days ago

Text

Ectoberhaunt Day 16: Bloom

Summary: Jack and Maddie Fenton have been growing a special flower in secret for months, finally its buds are ready to bloom! But why is Danny becoming more avoidant than usual?

Ao3 link

At long last!

This rare flower, thought to be extinct, is finally blooming after all their hard work gardening. Well, mainly her hard work. Maddie took care of the more delicate and meticulous side of things. Jack tries but they both know he's not good at that sort of stuff. She can be hyper focused on the minute details but Jack gets bored easily if its not something he can freely do and has little patience for botany despite his best efforts.

A flower long thought to be gone for good grown right here in the lab. Sure they had to make a special enclosure for it but they didn't want ghosts or the kids with their rebellious, 'pro ghosts' phase, to mess with it before it could be ready to flower.

Heck, they were unaware it existed until one day when they were going through old Fenton Family Photos- the way Jack says it implies it is all capitalized- where they found notes by a witch hunting ancestors buried at the bottom mentioning how they were used to trap spirits and keep them from helping their witch masters.

It is said they are a great danger to the supernatural but completely safe, even delicious, for human consumption.

If enough bloom, they can use it in more anti ghost defenses if the stories prove true. Might even make a new weapon to capture a specimen if they get that far. The possibilities are endless!

While the kids were at school, they put it to the test. All throughout the house the blossomed flowers were arranged in every room. Red blooms decorate the walls and windowsills and other various surfaces connected by their black stems twisting around each other. Unassuming to those not in the know. Just a beautiful decoration to most.

And who else would even know about them? Not many for sure.

No ghost can leave the zone from their portal when the house has these flowers! If they come, they'll be trapped in the lab!

She's making a snack for her and Jack for the taste test, too!

Well, that and that she has been at this all day and does need a snack. You can't study and fight ghosts on an empty stomach after all!

Jack is in the basement lab working on a new weapon incorporating these plants.

The kids will never be safer here at home!

There haven't been any ghost attacks all day.

None of the ghost alerts they had set up around town have acted up. Sure, those only register ghosts above a certain threshold to compensate for the ectoplasmic background radiation the town is soaked in and that no good Phantom can seemingly hide in plain sight, but this has to mean it works on some level!

Anything coming through their portal will be trapped in the lab even when they're not home!

Oh, this is fantastic!

The kids will be happy that those spooks wont get in the way anymore. They should be, anyway. She can never really read them anymore, especially Danny. A shame, they used to be so close, too.

Speaking of the kids, it's about time for them to come home about now. Or it used to be before they both got so busy. Well, Jazz at least tries to be around them and return her bags before going back out or locking herself in her room to study.

Danny, though, keeps skipping school and ignoring curfew. When he doesn't skip, he has detention! That boy and his poor priorities. Why can't he be more like his sister? At least this way he will have more time to devote to his studies for once with his school getting attacked less!

"Mom! I'm home!" her eldest announces once she walks into the door. Dutiful and making sure they know shes home. What a good daughter!

Maddie, who was working on the Fenton Finder again, as its glitches keep detecting Danny, makes her way out of the kitchen to greet her oldest child.

"Hey, sweetie! How was school today? It's quite late, did you get some studying done or was it tutoring?" She couldn't help but gush.

Maddie is sure Jack would be asking the same, albeit with more arm pulling and back breaking hugs. She loves that man but he really doesn't know his own strength most of the time. Or keep it in check. There is a time and a place for it, after all.

"Things went fine, mom. What's with all the flowers, though? Didn't take you one for home decor."

There she goes, always questioning stuff. Such a strong, scientific mind.

Not that Danny doesn't but he tends to not want to use it. From what she has simply observed and all.

If something was truly wrong, then he would tell them. Right?

"Oh, just trying something new. Do you like it?"

"Um, yeah. I guess? But, why so many? And... you put these in every room?"

"Can never have too many flowers! These are a rare breed after all. They have special cleansing properties to ward off ghosts!" Maddie is excited to share this good news! They don't have to worry about one of those nasty ghosties waking them up anymore!, "And don't you worry about your rooms! Jack and I still remember your lectures on 'privacy' and 'personal space'. I just left a vase full in both yours and your brother's room, nothing too obstructive, on your windowsills."

"Uh huh. How did you find out about these flowers? What are they called, anyway?"

"Blood blossoms! We found an old journal from one of Jack's ancestors, Jack Fenton-Nightingale that held fascinating records we couldn't wait to see if they worked. I'm so glad you asked! You're welcome to join us if you want, sweetie."

Jazz looked more unnerved than enthused, but she's always busy with her own passions rather than wanting to focus on theirs, much to their chagrin.

"That's great, mom!," Jazz's enthusiasm sounds strained, "I'll let Danny know about the new floral arrangements before he gets home. I need to go study, they gave us a lot of homework today and I spent all afternoon torturing. Call me when it's time for dinner." And she is rushing out, clearly done with this conversation.

For some reason, it stings Maddie's heart at how flighty and avoidant her kids are. She knows they are at that age but it hurts her to feel them drifting.

"Wait," Maddie stops her daughter before she could leave, "before you hole yourself up. Where is Danny? Do you know? He usually tells you nowadays. I just... really do hope this helps him."

"He's with his friends like usual, mom. They have a project coming up and he might be staying over with them tonight. How do you think these flowers will help him?"

Jazz is fishing for information but Maddie can't bring herself to care. She desperately needs to share this worry with someone else. She has Jack, but sometimes he doesn't get it in a way that she needs and her social circle is depressingly small. A sacrifice she was willing to make for her studies and passion even if it's lonely.

"Your brother," Maddie begins, hoping the explanation will be able to let her oldest know her worries for her baby boy, "is always so frightened and runs away whenever ghosts attack. He can't even handle a conversation about them. I'm hoping that these ghost warding flowers will give him some peace of mind. Make it easier to sleep and study and catch up on school stuff. Where his priorities need to be if he wants to do well for himself. I know he has done well when given the chance. A mother worries, after all."

Jazz gave her a thoughtful, pensive look, like shes warring with herself, before settling on a sad, small smile.

"I get it. I'll make sure to let him know about the Blood Blossoms so he won't be caught off guard at the sudden change."

"Thank you for understanding, dear."

"Who knows, maybe Sam might think it's cool. She does have an interest in nature and preserving rare species."

It's obvious that she's trying to change the subject delicately and Maddie appreciates her thoughtfulness and more than willing to change it herself.

"That is a wonderful idea! I will have to bring that up next time I see her."

Maddie's joy at such a suggestion made her almost miss her daughters face fall, when she thought her mom wasn't looking. Such a sad, fragile smile as she made her way to her room.

I can feel the gap between us widening, but I'm unsure why or how to fix it.

It's been days and Danny still hasn't come home, not even to say 'Hi.'. Always at a friend's place for one reason or another. Maddie has grown increasingly worried. Sure, sometimes he skips curfew and sometimes he's not in his room at night, but outright avoidance is unlike him!

And she knows he didn't just up and leave. He still goes to school and is seen around town. Just never comes around here anymore.

What did they do to make him outright shun them? Shun her?

It wasn't until he did finally come home and stay the night that she saw something.

He's always been a bit withdrawn, more so since the portal activated, but this was a whole new level.

He was pale and shaking for at least an hour of him being home and out of his room. He avoided any food with the black stemmed rose-like buds, claiming to not be hungry when he hasn't left his room all day. He just smiled shakily that night, pretending nothing was wrong and claiming to just be tired. But his head drooped when he thought Jack and Maddie weren't looking. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced and he seemed to get worse the longer the night dragged.

Danny seemed nervous and on edge like something would come out to attack him. Which is silly, with our new defenses no ghost has left through our portal since they made these changes.

But, for some reason, he's more hesitant and distant from us. Like he expects us to hurt him.

Ridiculous.

I miss my baby boy. We used to be so close. I thought this would help him but it seems to have driven him further from me. I don't know what I did wrong.

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt #ectoberhaunt24 #day 16 #eh past #bloom #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #danny fenton #fanfic #my fic #my art

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pixthefuckup · 2 months ago

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im part of a school full of nerds that heavily respect the super intelligent ones and you have to make fun of anything that could be considered stupidity to be popular and also part of a culture where they revere nerds in general

i just so happened to come up with a swap au for npmd that accidentally criticizes ableism in the school system, the low funding, and the shitty idea of every kid versus another for smartness because "at least we're not (blank group that's on a "lower" level)", maybe even a tiny bit of purity culture criticism.

The nerds rule the school and anyone failing or need help for things is shit. Ruth, Richie, P.J, and Reese are the idols. Pete is the Steph in this equation. He wants to skip gym and Stephanie Lauter, professional failure and skipper, is going to help him out.

Meanwhile, Brenda, Jason, Kyle, and Stacy are the losers. Sure, they do football and cheerleading and stuff but does that really matter? It'll get you a scholarship... if you're lucky to be noticed in this shit hole. Besides, their grades are so shit that they can't even get out of this town like the elite. Steph is the Pete in this. She's okay with gym class but she'll help him because she's nice. I have a feeling that her "Micro-peter" would be something like Nepohanie after she accidentally dropped her report card in middle school in a busy hallway and a rumor started that her dad bribed the high school to let her in so she wasn't held back despite her terrible grades (terrible nickname i know)

Max is Grace. Grace is Max. Max would totally rat out people for not trying hard enough in gym and shit, the fucking loser. Man, that dirty dude! Grace, meanwhile, is beloved. She does volunteer work with babysitting and such, she's a loving Christian, she gets good grades, she's the poster girl for perfection. The teachers love her. That's why they let her taunt people and accidentally put people through her horrible passive aggressive tutoring that has you feeling awful.

idk how waylon house would work other than maybe pete pretending to host a secret studying session and i haven't narrowed down a way to get max to get as psychotic as grace did in the end with the black book but like... i think i've got a small vision here

#brain dump #writing #my rants #hatchetfield #hatchetfield au #hatchetverse #npmd #starkid #starkid npmd #pete spankoffski #stephanie lauter #max jagerman #grace chasity #lords in black #role swap au

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milkacchan · 3 months ago

Note

For a touch of angst, how about Kuroo and Bokuto falling in love with the same person?

Bokuro college AU

He knew how wrong it was, he did.

It snuck up on him one day when Kuroo had introduced the two of you.

He tutored you. In chemistry. And you tutored him in ecology and botany.

He noted your hair, how long it was, how soft it looked. Kuroo had always adored long hair.

And he had smiled, goofy as he always did when you spoke. His eyes scanned and he noticed it then, how Kuroo looked at you.

With respect- or maybe adoration, he couldn’t clock it yet.

And as they looked for a table in the packed campus library, he noticed how well you seemed to click between the two of them. How your words would slip easily into banter- how your laugh matched theirs in intensity.

A friendship blossomed there, one nobody was necessarily banking on as the three of you studied individually for midterms.

You’d pause to explain a concept to Kuroo, who’d stop to explain a chemistry concept to you. And both would stop to help Bokuto with his concept if he needed it, which surprisingly, to himself too, he didn’t need much.

And then midterms came, and then they passed. Their marks were good.

Talking extended outside of class, outside of studying in the library.

And you all were watching movies, walking to the dining hall or to eat off campus. Then you were coming over and having movie nights.

And Bokuto could see how you and Kuroo interacted, and he wasn’t sure how he felt. You two clicked, so so well. The jokes you two could make, the banter and wittedness surround your respective fields.

Your smile was light, how could he not want you around?

Your voice was smooth and reassuring to hear, especially when it was directed to him.

Your skin looked soft- the way your eyes did when you looked at Kuroo.

You had been level headed when Bokuto had needed it. You’d come to his games. You’d helped him with school. You’d spent the night on their couch when it was too late to drive.

You made him laugh. A lot.

How could he not want you around? He felt happy when you were around.

He thought he felt small, somewhere along the way growing apprehensive to you being there- though he’d never show it.

He wasn’t sure why he felt like it now, bummed when he saw you. Even worse when he realized you and Kuroo hung out separately.

A lot.

And he wasn’t sure why he cared- not entirely anyway. Something just sank in his stomach when he found out, through whatever selfie Kuroo had sent. And a cold feeling that embedded in his bones when he saw a story Kuroo had posted. Of you.

Sitting in front of a window as the sun went down. The sky was fluffy with pink clouds- and the background was too dark to truly make out. The attention was put on you, the soft smile you had as you held a plant in your hand. The sun hit your skin beautifully. You were glowing. And he looked- for a little longer than he should’ve.

The way your hair glittered, how soft the smile that placed on your lips was.

The highlighter you always wore- it stood out. Gold, like the sun.

Where your hair fell and how pretty your nails looked.

Or the rings that’s sparkled on your fingers- or the layers of necklaces that adorned your neck.

He felt left out? Left behind? He wasn’t sure which, but he went to bed early that night.

He didn’t like you much after that. It was a slow up kick of distaste- not responding much in the shared GC. Pretending to just be busy when the opportunity to hang out or study was hard - although it was hard when your best and roommate is constantly with you.

And his distaste furthered when he read that stupid text too.

‘Ko I think I really like her. Will you help me ask her out?’

He didn’t answer right away. He went to the gym early that night- without Kuroo.

He didn’t think about it. Or he tried not to at the very least. He wracked his brain.

Why was it such a big deal? Because he was losing his best friend? Scared of being left behind? Or because he was going to lose you?

He felt that twinge of jealousy hit his chest. He sighs deeply.

He knows the answer. Though it really hurt.

It wasn’t about losing Kuroo. It was about losing you. Seeing you in his apartment every other morning- or often at dinner. With Kuroo and not him.

It was saying goodbye to something that couldn’t happen now.

He figured then he’d move on.

He did help Kuroo, made up some lame excuse when he got home. Feeling antsy he said.

You said yes, to know one’s surprise. To his disappointment- you were over a lot.

Bokuto was the same around you. The two of you laughed together, the two of you cried together, you stayed while kuroo was out of town.

It became normal.

And as the years went on, Bokuto had his relationships here and there, he focused on hobbies- thinking he’d gotten over that small crush he’d come down with those years ago.

So why did he feel so sick when kuroo asked for help ring shopping?

“You’re proposing?”

Kuroo grins. “I am. she’s the one Kou I can feel it- I knew the second we studied together. I want to spend my life with her.”

And he knew it was wrong, to feel the way he did. Angry. Upset. Sick over that thought, though Kuroo would be happy.

“Congratulations!! Give me a day and I’ll clear my schedule.” Bokuto smiles wide, bringing Kuroo in for a hug.

Just so his best friend can’t see how his eyes are watering.

#bokuto koutarou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tetsurou kuroo #bokuto haikyuu #koutarou bokuto #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst

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sunboki · 9 months ago

Text

You and Han Jisung are the ultimate best friends. While he’s busy nerding away, you’re filling him in on the latest and greatest drama. That’s until he brings up crushes. And I mean, what’re you supposed to say when he asks you that? It’s not like Jisung’s your crush… right?

📓 » Han Jisung x f. reader

GENRE┊non idol au, friends to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers, two idiots being oblivious, fake relationship au, highschool au, angst, fluff, slowburn

WORD COUNT┊5.1k words

PLAYLIST

WARNINGS┊profanity, lack of communication, childish pettiness, stupidity at insane levels

AUG’S NOTES┊valentine’s day with ji :(( take this as my tribute to hurting my own feelings with this fic 😭

THE BOYFRIEND STATUS TAGLIST — CLOSED

The first night of your downfall all started in mid-January.

All was well and had been going well, until it wasn’t.

You’ve known Han Jisung since second grade, starting with having to apologize for knocking over his castle and him proceeding to cry even louder in the sandbox, snotty in his red and white striped shirt.

You swear that shirt is still in his closet.

And when he was wimping away in a corner, you were the one that got him out of his shell. To this day you’re convinced you’re the first person to ever witness the true Han Jisung, who starts slapping things when he laughs really hard, who gets overly competitive during board games, who keeps hundreds of mind-blowing tracks he’s produced to himself, and who (you wouldn’t admit it) has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.

Freshman year of high school you met Jisung again in your Geography class.

Initially, it took you a moment to recognize his face, having changed quite a bit over the years. And certainly not a bad kind of change. Although, his nerdy personality was all the assurance you needed to figure out it was him, apart from that he switched to contacts, grew his hair out more, and looked, y’know, “older.”

Older as in: what happened to you? ..Why are you so attractive?

But you won’t get too far into that.

Through the years he tutored you. Jisung had a knack for studying since day one, and despite occasionally looking like he could pass as a dropout (usually the week before finals), no one else could maintain better grades than him.

So, on a night both you and Jisung were slouched over your desk, procrastinating school work by rating people at school from most to least kissable, he turns to you, face halfway illuminated by your lamp.

“Do you like anyone?” Your boba-eyed friend asks while you aimlessly scroll through your camera roll in search of the photo you’d been talking about, mumbling a quiet “of course” in response.

Jisung makes an unconvinced noise and clasps his hands together, leaning forward.

“No like, like like anybody.”

Finally escaping your ‘rating people’s kissing-capabilities’ headspace and now entering into your ‘is this the question i think it is?’ one, you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

It’s a strange question, not a Jisung-question, and you find yourself growing increasingly nervous the longer he stares at you.

You’ve never even thought about it really, so why are you so sweaty? Why does your heart feel as if it may just beat out of your chest, why is your mouth so dry?

Questions.

Clearing your throat and secretly praying it didn’t give away your piling anxiety, you feign a roll of your eyes, tapping your fingernail on the cool desk.

God, why are you so nervous?

“Um, nobody, why?” You retort, ignoring the scrutinizing squint of his eyes watching you.

It’s never like this. You’re the one that teases, gets him all shy, stumbling over his words. So now you suddenly feel like Jerry and he’s Tom.

Abnormal.

“C’mon, there has to be someone you think is cute,” He whines, and before you can stop it one word smacks you upside the head.

You.

“It’s Minho!” You shout, hurried and barely audible as if trying to tune out your inner panic.

Han looks stunned.

Han as in best friend, not crush. Right.

What were you thinking?

“..Min.. Minho?” He phrases slowly, evidently surprised.

Being completely honest, you’re just as surprised as he is. Minho is attractive, sure, but never in your life did you consider him like that.

Oh how you wished you could erase all of this from ever happening.

It doesn’t make sense. Because it’s not like you’re into Jisung. Or are you?

Nope. Nuh-uh. You were just caught off guard and unprepared. Not to mention it was an unexpected question, that’s all.

Fuck.

You like Jisung. There’s no point of lying to yourself anymore. From the start of seeing him again, those “friendly” gestures weren’t friendly anymore, they were intentional, pursuing. Walking from class to class together, constantly checking your texts, meeting his eyes only to smile like fools.

“Yep. Minho. That’s the guy,” Cutting each sentence shorter than the last, you nod fervently, avoiding his gaze.

Both soaking in utterly hellish silence, the tension was likely seeping through the cracks in your door at this rate.

He really shouldn’t have ever brought this up, and you shouldn’t have said Minho. So on the bright side, at least you’re both at fault here in the grand scheme of things.

“..Alright then.” He shrugs and goes back to writing down notes, ignoring how the room feels a hundred degrees hotter and that every inch of your soul is drenched in a cold sweat, plagued with the situation you landed yourself in.

What has gotten into you?

Why Minho was the first name you said couldn’t be explained, and, with your amazing fortune, Minho happened to be Jisung’s friend in their shared engineering program.

Any name. You could’ve said any name.

Great.

“Psst!” You hiss, lingering behind the door, waiting for your victim to finally finish his day-long conversation with Mr. Hong.

Said victim (a.k.a Minho) delivering a venomous glare from the corner of his eye, you gesture for him to come nearer (much to his obvious dislike) once the coast had cleared. Thankfully, the classroom was a distance from Jisung’s, providing ample time to strike your plan before they joined sixth period together.

A plan that had been devised throughout the many hours you spent sleeplessly investigating your ceiling last night.

“I need your help.”

Wait for it. Here comes the questions.

“Is this about Jisung?”

Before you can open your mouth, he cuts you off.

“You got in trouble again, didn’t you?”

You sigh.

“I-“

“Are you pregnant?”

“SHUT— up.” Grabbing a strong hold onto your one opportunity to speak, you clamber both him and yourself into the nearest seat, dreading this experience the longer Minho stares daggers into your soul.

The idea is a stretch, but if the boy in front of you cooperates, at least a few bases might get covered.

“Minho, I need your help with Jisung.”

Anticipatory eyebrows (looking freaky similar to a cat) urge you further.

“Alright, first things first,” You huff, fishing in your bag prior to sliding the notebook in front of him. His eyes widen, breathing an esteemed “wow” upon reading each line.

“Rules For Our Fake Relationship”, The title reads in messy sharpie marker. A silly, first-grade clique idea, although, if wielded correctly, could very easily quell your.. “problem” for a bit while you brainstormed the next step.

Problem being, how can I make sure, at all costs, my best friend doesn’t know I’m in love with him?

“You really thought this one through, huh.”

“I do what I have to.” Cracking your knuckles and stretching your neck, you ignore Minho’s judgemental eyeball and begin setting down some basic rules.

#1 Under no circumstances should we ever kiss.

He seems to whole-heartedly agree on that one, pretty much gagging at the thought.

#2 No one but us is allowed to know this is fake.

The rest is history, so by the time you’ve reached twenty and he adds a “No acting lovey-dovey around me” rule, you realize you might as well make this a “Rules For Worst Enemies” list instead.

But just as you hand him the pen, awaiting his signature with an eager gaze, he deflates, popping the cap back on much to your displeasure.

“Before I sign my life away to your Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, you have to promise me something.”

“..Okay.”

Please don’t say your credit card, please don’t say your credit card please don’t say your credit ca-

“No matter how long this,” he gestures to your page-full of rules, “lasts, you have to find a way to explain yourself to him before Valentine’s Day, deal?”

Valentine’s day gives you a full two weeks to keep up your act, and as much as you want to deny and tell him that would technically break Rule #2, you doubt he’ll agree any other way. It’s Minho for goodness sake, you could throw a brick at his head and he’d wake up in the hospital the next day still remembering to feed his cats.

You’ll make an excuse.. or something like that.

Fine.

“Deal.”

Finally signing the bottom of the notebook paper, the bell rings for your next class to begin and your hand has already started to cramp horribly, a telltale sign your job here is done.

Stashing the illegitimate document in your bag and parting in opposite directions, your movements halt when Minho shouts your name, his flannel-clad form sporting a mildly smug grin.

“Hey! Don’t fall in love with me, okay?” He yells, and you make a disgusted face before both erupting into laughter.

After a rather ungrateful attempt of explaining your tardiness to English class, you drop your backpack down beside your desk, notifications buzzing with texts Jisung sent earlier today asking about where you want to sit for lunch tomorrow and your weekly tutoring sessions amongst other things.

A frown tugged at your lips.

You shouldn’t have lied, really really shouldn't have. So deep inside you hope; pray this’ll be your solution.

Fuck.

Jisung likes you.

Scratch that, he’s liked you. Liked you ever since fifth grade, when he skinned his knee wrecking his favorite captain america bicycle and you patched him up with multiple superhero bandaids.

So when he finds out it’s Minho you’re interested in, Lee Minho who in a billion years he didn’t expect you to be interested in, he’s astonished.

Because it’s not every day your best friend who you’ve been harboring the fattest crush on tells you she’s interested in another guy, especially not your other good friend, so he feels entitled to feeling a tad bit upset.

It’s not your fault and he knows it. You don’t know he likes you because he’s too much of a coward to say anything, do anything.

But somehow, in some majestic, all-knowing way, he wishes you had said his name instead.

Whether it was Summer Camp in middle school or all those times he’d sat behind you in Algebra just to talk to you, it was inevitable. Because before either of you knew it, he was falling in love, and apparently you were falling in love too; with someone else.

“Alright, and? Are you gonna tell me, y’know, why you like her?”

Awaiting the dismissal bell, he folded, desperately needing some kind of assurance. First person he usually went to was you, but that wasn’t possible now, since it’s not like he could simply run up to you and shout out his feelings, could he?

Duh, of course he could. Which is another reason why he won’t, and why he doubts he ever will.

Hell, merely talking to you on the phone whenever Minho passes by amounts to a mini heart-attack.

Instead, Seo Changbin stepped in, and in the midst of a barely occupied cafe, Han Jisung found himself spilling his guts. Spilling his guts as in: venting and brainwashing himself into thinking he could win you over.

“I mean, everything.”

His friend makes a hopeless sort of sound, head resting on his hand.

“She’s like…” Han forks a bit of the cheesecake, Changbin’s expression spurring his cynical seat-mate to continue.

“Cheesecake.”

The level-headed of the two chokes on his drink.

“..Cheese– Cheesecake?”

Han affirmatively nods. “And I love Cheesecake.”

Changbin rises from the table with a frantic Jisung in tow, pleading for his friend to hear him out.

“Look! Look wait, Changbin please-“

He swore the man’s eye twitched.

Although, they’ve known each other for four years, and he was quick thinking up a solution.

“I’ll work out with you for a month.”

He’s never seen a man sit himself down faster.

And as a result, their two hours of utterly senseless talk turned into short-lived (yet greatly appreciated) relief, filled with bits and pieces of advice granted by the matchmaker (Seo Changbin) himself. Plus, he made a good point in advocating you weren’t going out with Minho yet, right? Meaning, despite the possibility being sparse, he had a 1% on his side.

Rain pelted the campus upon his exit, the boy clambering his hood over his head, stepping a mere foot into the watery terrain for a text to vibrate his phone.

Usually he’d ignore it, but that was before he saw the number.

You.

Han stopped dead in his tracks, hoodie slipping off his head in the process—standing there, assailing droplets drenching his form, device clutched in a numb grasp.

Guess the relief wasn’t the only thing short-lived.

Y/N : You’ll never guess what happened Ji!! Minho asked me out!

Something about Jisung is different recently. You’re not sure if it’s an effect of your (fake) relationship, but he’s just.. different.

Distant.

Perhaps you should’ve expected it. This is the first time you’ve ever been in a relationship while being friends with Jisung, and the entire point of this after all is to keep your mushy feelings hidden.

But his entire “cold” persona was starting to get under your skin.

Yesterday he’d completely ditched you to talk to Chan, a fellow producer in the same class as Jisung which, might you add, never happened.

In fact, there was a time that your best friend had gotten so immersed in a conversation he slammed right into a pole. He still has a scar on his nose from it.

More so, a few months ago, leaning against the sink in his dorm the day after midterms when you’d be stressing and obsessing over precalculus, he reached up, cupped your cheek in a hand and rubbed his thumb along your skin.

..And you tumbled head first into those silly feelings the “he’s just a friend” Y/n had locked away and thrown out the key to.

Little did you know Jisung had a spare key all along.

“Eyelash,” He had said, but in your pounding eardrums the comment sounded more like a whisper, an invitation.

That night you lay in bed, trying incessantly to fall asleep to no avail, because every time you close your eyes the scene ran on replay, except in your fairytale he had leaned forward and kissed you—

A car alarm going off outside your window knocks your daydream awry, ushering you to give up on peaceful slumber after the three-hour trial period.

So why were you upset? You wanted this; you wanted to stay as friends out of the fear he didn’t feel the same—even more so that your friendship would dissipate along with it.

Easy.

It didn’t feel fair. You felt like, even though Jisung didn’t have any romantic intentions with you, you were technically (unintentionally) assigning his position as the third wheel without so much as a single vote.

And it didn’t feel fair, because a possibility remained.

A possibility that could mean Jisung liked you, and if that were the case, your efforts, not to mention your mind, would officially drift itself into a never ending orbit.

Albeit amongst your mental warfare, school ran right on schedule, blind to the infinitely deep shithole you had dug (and wished to bury) yourself in.

Thursday’s schedule consisted of a main topic.

Senior prom.

According to your firsthand accounts, prom in high school is either the best or the worst school event in the history of events.

The popular girls stick to tiny maxi dresses with overly tall heels and massive hoop earrings—granted, you don’t blame them for the dress, they’ve got snatched bodies, but sometimes (most of the time) the glitz and glam is a lot on the eyes.

Jocks will show up in cargo’s or dress pants thinking they’re the shit while their attire doesn’t even cut it when you look at their weekly exchange of a girlfriend, but hey, that’s high school.

If you were talking about yourself, you’d say prom was, well, prom. Not horrible, not amazing either.

Freshman year you spent way too much time rewatching “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before” and filling your nights treating the approaching occasion like a sacred holiday. Sophomore year you began to lose interest, and as for Junior year, you nearly forgot it existed.

The more you thought about it though, Jisung would honestly rock a pair of heels.

Anyway, that’s besides the point.

Senior year, this year, there was a change in your rotation. Change, as in, big change. A what-about-Jisung-while-Minho’s-in-the-picture change.

It’s not like you were genuinely dating Minho, yet your wack job of a situation kept you from telling your best friend (crush) who is deliberately avoiding you at the moment, the truth.

Never in your life did you think you’d string yourself into something like this. That Han Jisung, that snotty-nosed boy, would be a constant reason for your incessant headaches, occupying every expanse of your mind on a continuous loop.

And by chance, fate of some kind, you finally run into the runaway culprit, tagging along with Changbin after the lunch break he normally spent with you.

Oh how the tables have turned.

So when the boy expertly dodges your first attempt to communicate, you don’t let him go, unwilling to let another unread message slip past without sparing a word.

“Jisung- wait.”

He turns to you, lips drawn in that straight line that always forms when he’s nervous.

Hundreds of possible questions you could ask in this moment, minimal time.

“Are you.. going to the prom?”

What kind of question is that you dumbass.

Fixating you with an equally incredulous stare, he tips his head slightly, a mocking, humorless chuckle following.

“Um, yeah?”

What. The. Fuck.

Maybe it’s the way he phrased his words, his cocky attitude when responding that irked your nerves. Regarding you like you’re three years old.

And maybe that’s your flaw, feeling like you’re supposed to be the one sending him beet red instead, used to that comforting casualness, your comforting casualness.

Together.

You wrinkle your nose, ripping your hand from his sleeve like you were stung.

Jisung seemed to feel it too, although only you could tell.

“Oh.. okay. I’m going with Minho, my- boyfriend, so don't worry about me!”

Aw shit, now you’re just embarrassing yourself. Shut up and leave, girl.

Jesus, why do you feel like crying?

You’d never sprinted off faster, long abandoning sympathizing with the now jerk-face Jisung and certainly trying to abandon the two days separating prom’s date and the three from Valentines, otherwise, your explanation deadline.

Talk about pressure.

Nonetheless, shopping for something couple-clique was hell. After never anticipating you’d be shopping for two in the first place, simply finding a flattering color proved itself challenging.

Minho was ungodly picky, and you refused to wear what this lunatic deemed prom-worthy. Also, simultaneously trying your hardest to welcome whatever prom season was (an occasion that felt disgustingly uncomfortable) and staying awake to tirelessly plan on how you would behave seeing Han there left no room for relaxing.

Oh, and telling him everything before Valentines too, adding another sleepless night to your February calendar.

Insomnia much?

“Yah! The tie is what makes us look like a couple!” You groan, pressing the dark green bow tie to his shirt while his grabby hands attempt at prying you off.

February 12th arrived dangerously fast, to the point you managed to snag a somewhat-similar tie and dress shade at the last minute, a tie of which you were straining to attach to Minho while standing in an adjacent room to the packed auditorium.

He childishly whines, complaining that it’s too much before all of a sudden the door springs open, figure standing frozen in the entrance.

A figure none other than Jisung.

Best part? Your hands are pressed to Minho’s chest, stuck in a rather compromising position now that you mention it.

“Oh— sorry, um,” He steps back, frantically closing the door in his wake.

This is what you wanted though, isn’t it? Payback for how rude he’d been, for him to believe you were dating Minho, that you weren’t remotely interested in him.

Regardless, it feels like betrayal.

Your companion’s mildly concerned look speaks your mind.

In the midst of your mental tormenting session however, Minho slammed his hip into the side of the door while leaving, gritting out a hushed curse.

“Want me to kiss it for you?” You automatically tease, puckering up your lips in an attempt to block out the voice in your head calling you heartless.

Well, it’s not like Jisung likes you. The only feelings you’re hurting here are yours.

“I. Would. Rather. Die.” He retaliates, nose scrunched while nursing the wound.

‘What a sweetheart’ you want to call back, but the weight on your chest seals your lips shut, and with a nervous nod you stiffly head toward the opening hall.

Something to blame. Right about now, you need something to blame that would at least provide some breathing room considering the blasting of a bass shaking the floor and just how many people are crammed in here.

Everything feels too tight, too much. Minho’s got a loose hold on your hand to keep up the act, but for who? You can’t spot Jisung anywhere.

The fake boyfriend to your side caught on relatively early, sending you a troubled expression you mirror back.

An hour in and there was no enjoying yourself, no laughing and slipping drinks somebody stole from their parents, no dancing around or sending the same compliment to seventy girls on repeat.

Han wasn’t here even after he had told you (asshole-like) he’d come. The entire reason you went these lengths.

Amidst your frustration, you spot a man in the crowd.

Aha.

Chan.

I’m not looking for Jisung I’m not looking for Jisung I’m not looking for Jisung—

“Where’s Jisung?”

You’re kidding.

Chan narrows his eyes, giving your wavering, obviously upset frame a once over.

“Jisung? He dropped off something for Felix. Didn’t he tell you he wasn’t coming?”

Again, you’re kidding.

What a liar.

And maybe you shouldn't have yourself get so mad. Jisung didn’t even know the half of it, nonetheless how far you’ve gone to secure his suspicions were out of your hair.

But you did go that far, and to think he didn’t show up after all left your tribulations useless.

Calm down, the sensible Y/n would scold.

This wasn’t the sensible Y/n.

Racing from the auditorium to the neighboring apartment complex a block or so away, you utilize the extra key he’d given to you, bursting through the door while ripping off your gloves and kicking off your mud-stained heels along the way.

Han spins around, clad in regular clothes—somewhat regular clothes apart from how incredible he looks—with his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, glasses adorning his face, plate of leftovers in hand.

He’s been working out recently, or maybe the majority of the Jisung you’d seen wore hoodies and baggy tees.

You’ll thank whoever got him to the gym later. Presently, number one is Jisung. You and Minho can be dealt with afterward.

“Look, I know you really don’t want to hear this right now, but Minho and I broke up and—“

The words sound like vomit on your tongue, especially from the look Jisung gives you in return.

Fake, It’s all fake. Yet, it feels so real. Yes, you’re still mad, but it’s Jisung, and who are you to deny you still aren’t into him.

You don’t have to be sensible to know that.

“So?”

So? He asks. This Jisung asks, not the one who would’ve, at the drop of a hat, asked if you were alright, asked if you needed anything like a friend does. This is cocky Jisung, jerk-face Jisung.

You’re spoiled with the old Jisung, were spoiled.

But this isn’t him, this is somebody else.

Your frustration levels might breach out of your ears at this rate.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He scoffs, carding a hand through soft strands of hair. “I’m not Minho. I’m not someone you can drag along just for the fun of it, alright?”

Who are you?

Wildly, you wrack your brain for any plausible explanation.

“What- What do you mean drag you along? I would never—”

“Then why?!” He cries, slamming the plate against the table hard enough you notice a crack wedged on the side.

Breaking point.

Come to think of it, this is the first time you’ve ever heard Jisung yell.

What felt to be months and months on end of this lying and stifling came out to this, huh.

Screw it.

“Because! Because I like you, no, I love you Jisung, I love you so fucking much it kills me! Minho and I were fake! I set up all this bullshit just because I was scared of what we have disappearing, can’t you understand that?!”

He’s seething; fat, crocodile tears dotting his waterline. And you stand there pathetically, waiting to hear it, hear something.

“Turn around.”

Huh?

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you slowly do as told, awkwardly shuffling around till your back faces him.

His fingers sift across your back, chills spreading along your skin.

“You’ve been uncomfortable all night, haven’t you? Why didn’t you tell Min— Tell me?” He grumbles, unzipping the back of your dress and simultaneously allowing much needed air to re-enter your lungs.

You don’t need to respond for him to know, another of the many things you’ve fallen for when it comes to Jisung.

Although, another reason added to that list would be his arms wrapping around your waist, cozying to your back. And another when you shift around, your own arms slipping to his neck, savoring a hug you hadn’t realized how horribly you missed.

“Can you go back to being just Y/n and not Minho’s fake girlfriend?” He mutters, head buried in your neck.

“Yeah yeah.” You respond, voice wavering the longer you stay pressed in his embrace.

Jisung pulls back slightly, studying your face.

“Can I…” He begins trailing off, eyes suddenly laser-focused on your face.

A roaring pit of deja vu swallows you whole.

His thumb does that, that thing again. That careful caress on your cheek, that close proximity.

“Eyelash.”

Everything feels like it’s on loop.

Only difference is when he begins to lean forward, and you swear it’s your imagination when he pulls the glasses off his face, lips barely ghosting over yours.

“Can I kiss you, please?” His tone slightly breathless, you don’t have to say a word by the way you’re looking at him for Jisung to take initiative.

Yet, his feather-light peck to your forehead catches you off guard, preparing to laugh before a careful hand slips to hold your neck, maneuvering your face into a kiss you’re certain you’ll remember.

Jisung, whom, quite frankly, squealed every time the two main characters confessed their love to each other, who was emotional and fragile, was kissing you.

He kisses you, just like that stupid fantasy.

It’s messy, inexperienced, but it’s Jisung. That’s enough.

And then, even worse for your sanity, his hands slip beneath your thighs to pick you up—an action that wouldn’t have been this detrimental if he hadn’t gained so much muscle recently—but it does.

Basically breathing him in, you’re slow to separate, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, sending chills down your spine.

Your nerves are on fire.

If anything, the world could burn and you’re certain you wouldn’t even notice, not when Jisung had you caged between his arms on the bar stool, positively enamored with every slight huff and gasp of air, the squeezing grip you had on his arms.

Ignorant to the point you forgot about his gym-partner (likely responsible for helping Jisung grow muscle, you’d thank him later for that) otherwise roommate who wouldn’t appreciate his best friend hogging in the kitchen.

Luckily, it only took the clattering of keys lodging into the doorknob to pull you two off of each other, scrambling to grab clothing while you raced to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Mere seconds after your hasty escape does the man, the myth, and the legend walk in, duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

Jisung awkwardly grins, leaning back on the island as if you hadn’t just been sitting there, all pretty and perfect.

Han had always thought Changbin would be some type of dog in his past life—maybe a Rottweiler. And by the way he seemed to practically smell something was up, he was certain of it.

“Did I.. walk in on something?”

Nearly slipping half-way through his reply, Jisung (non)chalantly wiped a bout of sweat from his hairline.

“Nope! Just uh.. organizing?”

He would get weeks of shit if anyone caught on, nonetheless his roommate.

Instead of interrogating him further, Changbin grunted, bending down to pick up what the younger thought to be a piece of trash, only for one of your heels to be pinched between his fingertips, expression reading: “Seriously? Organizing?”

Color draining from his face, Jisung humorlessly chuckled, likely sweating enough to fill the Atlantic ocean.

“Did I ever tell you about my secret life as a drag queen?”

Hastily snatching the shoe away at the older boy’s face palm, his face flushing ten thousand degrees upon the cuff to the shoulder he received.

“Y/n?” His friend called loudly, met with your pitiful “here…” from the bathroom and a smug giggle from an amused gym-rat.

Yeah. Shit for weeks.

“Do you think Minho’s a good kisser?” Jisung piques, sprawled out on the couch with a bag of potato chips in hand.

The first official night of your relationship with Han started in mid-February. Tonight, you planned a movie date.

You, almost suffocating from how fast you inhaled, threw a not-so-kind slipper at him, the boy screaming avidly in response.

Through a fake relationship, pettiness, and a sad attempt at making-out, in a sense, you did explain yourself.

Hah. Suck it Minho.

“Hey! I’m just asking!”

FIC TAGLIST. @liknws @itshannjisung @spearbinnie0327 @manuosorioh @dearly-somber @thefangirloncrack @ivydoesit23 @thisrandomgoofy15 @thisisnotjacinta @palindrome969 @shycreationdreamland @j-oneseungz @hyperpixie @eyearebee @cupidcures @gumiess @loxgirl2004

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hlficlibrary · 1 year ago

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HL Fic Library 😎🤓 Popular Louis/Nerd Harry Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

😎 This Offer Stands Forever by Tomlinsontoes / @pianolouis {M, 78k}

Harry is who high school kids would define as a nerd, he loved going to class and studying, he was just good at school work and saw nothing wrong with liking it. He signs up to tutor students at the middle school down the road where he ends up helping Lottie Tomlinson, younger sister to the ever popular and gorgeous Louis Tomlinson who is also a senior and in a few classes of Harry's. Harry might have a crush on him and not so sure how to act around Louis but hopes he can get close to the other boy and learn everything about him.

🤓 Want You More Than A by TheCellarDoor / @donotdialnine {M, 77k}

Falling in love with your step-brother’s best friend is a disaster enough. When he happens to be the boy everyone loves and you’re a nerd who wears sweater vests and cries during rom-coms, it takes it to a whole new level.

😎 I hear you calling in the dead of night by Thelonelycoast {M, 72k}

No one really notices Marcel Styles. In fact, Marcel’s so invisible that if his teachers don’t call on him in lessons - and they rarely do - Marcel can go whole days without speaking to anyone other than his mum, his sister, Gemma, his cat, Dusty and the school librarian, Alma. And if he just so happens to have a tiny, miniscule crush on the footie captain, Louis Tomlinson, well, that’s no one’s business but his own. Until Louis notices him back...

🤓 Webs of lies by Hazzaslittle28 {E, 35k}

"Truth or Dare?" The question was delivered with a nasty smirk from Drake's side,

"Who do you think I am? Of course Dare." Louis scoffs before leaning back and adjusting his skirt,

"Very well than. Your dare is to play Styles for two months until the dance." Louis frowns at the odd dare,

"Why would you- you know what? Okay I accept it. Louis Tomlinson never looses a dare." He smirks sultrily before plucking the cigarette from Drake's mouth and taking a drag out of it.

"Let's see then."

Or The au in which The popular is given a dare to date the nerd, hearts will be broken, words will loose their meaning and tears would be shed.

😎 The Library Universe (series) by @allwaswell16 {E, 33k}

Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

🤓 Supposed to Be by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo {M, 26k}

“I’m making a movie for a film competition, and I want you to be in it,” Harry told Louis. “I think you would be a great leading actor in it.” “Why?” “Because it’s you. I mean, who wouldn’t want to know all about the amazing Louis Tomlinson? It would be a great movie.” “You don’t have some weird crush or, like, secret obsession with me, do you?” Louis asked. Harry bit his tongue so he didn’t say “Ew, I have standards.” He didn’t think that would go over well. Of course, that was assuming Louis understood what that meant.

Or, the Geek Charming AU where Harry's a film geek, Louis' a popular jock, and they both need each other to get what they want.

😎 He Was a Different League (When I Was Nothing Much) by @afangirlfantasy {NR, 21k}

Sick of being alone, Marcel is forced (by Niall) to join an online dating app. The idea is well and all, except for the inconvenient fact that he hasn’t moved on from his childhood sweetheart - Louis. If only Marcel could learn to let go, he might actually be able to love again.

Or, an AU where finding that 'someone new' actually leads to finding that 'someone old,' and Marcel is painfully oblivious.

🤓 taken by lust’s strange inhumanity by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry {E, 20k}

One of the reasons Harry said 'yes' in the first place was because he believed Louis Tomlinson, the campus’ most notorious “bad boy”, would be here.

And much to Harry's triumph and dismay, Louis is here but the last time Harry got a glimpse of him, he had a pretty omega wrapped around him, clinging onto the flaps of his leather jacket while nosing his scent glands.

Maybe that’s just the story of Harry's life; always infatuated with the wrong people.

OR The one with all the jealous snarling, awkward first kisses and one unforgettable night.

😎 Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret by @lovelykits {E, 16k}

“I got asked out today,” Louis comments. “Okay,” Harry shifts. “Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.” "You always get asked out.” “Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”

Or Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.

🤓 Kings by dolce_piccante / @haydolce {T, 13k}

Marcel receives an invitation to his ten year high school reunion, which brings up some painful memories of his youth. His lifelong best friend and roommate, Louis, is as supportive and kind as ever, but Marcel still has hesitations. Louis was Prom King. Marcel...was not.

Will Marcel make the reunion a night to remember with his former classmate, Zayn, who is newly wealthy, handsome, and reveals his childhood crush on Marcel? Or will Louis finally realize what everyone else has known all along?

😎 blinded me with sweater vests by veterization {T, 13k}

Marcel really is the geekiest person Louis has ever seen with that gelled hair and that horrendous sweater vest, so it sucks that Louis really, really wants to get to know him.

🤓 A Real Work of Art by @lululawrence {NR, 11k}

“I don’t understand,” Liam said for probably the fiftieth time in ten minutes. “You have to explain again how this is a bad thing.”

“Leeeeyummm,” Harry whined into the phone as he leaned his head onto his desk. “I felt like this year was my year for getting his attention, you know? That senior year I would finally get Logan Thompson to realize I exist! But he’s in almost every single one of my classes, Li. How am I supposed to survive that?”

“Easily,” Liam answered, with the same matter of fact tone his voice always took when Harry was in one of his fits. “He doesn’t know you exist, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Right?”

Or the one where Harry calls on an old friend, the super popular Louis Tomlinson, to help him change his look to capture the heart of Logan. Things only mostly go as planned.

😎 your heart is glowing (and i'm crashing into you) by orphan_account {T, 11k}

If this were a fairytale, maybe even a Young Adult novel or a chick flick, this would be the moment where Louis would stare right into his soul and whisper, “You. It’s you, Harry,” before pulling him in for a kiss right there and then in the middle of the sidewalk. They’d confess their never-ending love for each other then hold hands for the rest of the walk home, and then they’d go to uni together and become the ultimate power couple of their campus. They’d start a family together a few years after they graduate, find a large house somewhere nice and preferably warm, get two pet dogs and five cats, and then adopt enough children to start a football team. If only men could get pregnant as well, Harry thinks wistfully. He’d love to carry Louis’ babies given the chance.

But. This isn’t a fairytale, nor is it a movie based off the latest YA bestseller. This is real life.

(harry is in love with love, volunteers to hand out valentine gifts for a week, and somehow becomes the football captain's secret admirer.)

🤓 I could give you what you deserve. by larryaresoulmates {E, 8k}

Louis is popular, Harry is his super nerdy tutor. Louis is the only one who's actually nice to Harry despite his nerdiness. Harry has a giant crush on Louis, but Louis has a boyfriend, who bullies Harry behind Louis' back.

😎 Convalescent Boy (with a Heart of Gold) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {T, 7k}

Just as the professor beginning to mess with his powerpoint, the door at the back of the balcony creaks open and Marcel looks back to notice Louis Tomlinson, The Louis Tomlinson, slip in and take a seat in the very back.

Marcel is starting to feel like his life is a comedy. Only yesterday was Louis Tomlinson on his floor at the library. Now he’s in his seminar. What is happening?

“Hey Mars,” Nick says, not particularly quietly as he leans over. “Isn’t that your crush?”

Marcel smacks him.

Or, the one where Marcel is a nerd who loves to learn but loves to go to theatre productions even more, and may or may not have a long time crush on the lead in most of the plays, Louis Tomlinson. The same Louis Tomlinson who seems to be appearing wherever Marcel is. Funny, that.

🤓 Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {M, 5k}

Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

😎 it's kinda hot in here by ballsdeepinjesus {E, 3k}

“Is that a moth on your stomach?”

or nerdy harry is hiding some stuff under his dorky clothes and louis fucks him in a locker room

🤓 Lucky by @friendofhayley {E, 4k}

When Harry had moved from London to New Jersey he had been prepared for bad spray tans and Regina George. He hadn't been prepared to meet the best thing to ever happen to him.

If only he hadn't worn an ugly brown vest covered in cat pee when he met him.

😎 No Matter What They Say by ivorydreams {M, 3k}

It's not that Harry and Louis are hiding the fact that they're in a relationship. It's not them being ashamed of each other.

People just never noticed.

Or the one where no one knows Harry Styles, the 'nerd', and Louis Tomlinson, 'mr. popular football captain', are in a romantic relationship.

🤓 ❤ For Effort by @fallinglikethis {G, 2k}

When Harry Styles lets his team down during gym class, resulting everyone having to run laps, he expects the worst. But the backlash never comes.

Harry's crush, Louis Tomlinson, may or may not have something to do with that.

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