#make that boy a frisbee

[radicalreliablerandomness]

possibly the stupidest thing I've ever drawn

[kinokoshoujoart]

i’m going to cry… rock’s child inherits the most feral abnormal messed up dna of any child ever and still ends up being the most well-adjusted one (rock’s nurture overcoming his and his child’s nature)

(this is from this rrreddit post. if you’re wondering why molly and rock’s kids are low energy…. i have no idea why 規則正しい was translated “energy” either because it‘s more like “orderly”…? i’m not native in jp so idk)

[ultimateaclrecovery]

I’m so goddamn infatuated with the boy it’s practically a problem. I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone this much and like I can’t stop thinking about it.

He was my fantasy crush for a good while and I have no idea how to reconcile that with like actually dating him.

I’m trying to just not overthink and just enjoy it, but I’m obsessing and worried that I’m going to ruin everything somehow. And I also just like straight up don’t know how to deal with liking someone with this much

[gloomwitchwrites]

There was this tiktok trend where kids and their mums would pull a prank on their dads by telling their mums to shut up...141 with a teenage son who tries it?

Anon, I am very aware of this prank. If mom is in on it, I consider it all in good fun, but omg, these guys would be absolutely stressed if they heard their teenage son tell mom to "shut up." Heads would absolutely roll over that!

Price is certainly old enough to have a teenage son on the older side. I would even say the same for Ghost. Gaz is old enough for a younger teenage son. With Soap's age...that's stretching it. BUT SUSPEND DISBELIEF Y'ALL. I'm aging Gaz and Soap up a bit for this one.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in two double drabbles and two triple drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader (w/ children)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, pranks, domestic, dad!141, brief suggestive themes, marriage

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Ugh. Shut up, Mum.”

There is a brief pause between mum and when the television remote hurtles across the room. Your son doesn’t duck in time, the hard plastic hitting his shoulder before bouncing onto the kitchen island with a loud clack.

Before your son turns, Kyle’s baseball cap with the Union Jack, soars through the air like a frisbee. This one your son manages to avoid, but it’s quickly followed by a slipper. It flies past his head, and you catch it out of the air before it makes contact with the front of the microwave.

You and your eldest son turn in Kyle’s direction as he manifests in the kitchen entryway, the other slipper in hand, poised to launch it at the first sign of any movement.

“Wanna repeat yourself, mate?” Kyle appears calm and poised, but you notice the subtle tension in his jaw.

“It was a joke, Dad! Promise!”

Kyle’s arm holding the slipper starts to rise.

“Kyle,” you say. His gaze flicks to you. “Just a joke. No harm. I was in on it.”

His shoulders immediately sag. Kyle shakes his head. Rolls his eyes. Heading for the fridge, he opens it up, grabbing a can of his favorite beer.

Kyle sets the beer down on the island, pointing the slipper at you and then his son. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. No words come out, just an exasperated huff.

Kyle snatches up the television remote and sticks it into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. Keeping hold of the shoe in one hand, and his beer in the other, he gives the two of you his back, heading into the living room.

“No one bother me until the game is over,” he says over his shoulder. “And someone bring me my bloody slipper!”

John Price

"Fucking hell, Mum. Shut it."

John is up and out of his seat so fast you hardly see him move. He strides over to his son, yanking him off the stool by the scruff of his shirt.

"John! It's a prank!" you say quickly, reaching for his arm.

The boy is dangling in the air, toes just shy of touching the ground. "A prank?" asks John skeptically.

"Mum is in on it. Promise."

John sighs heavily and slowly lowers his son to the ground. The moment his feet touch ground, he tries to step away, but John holds firm, keeping his eldest child immobile. He leans forward a bit. Lowers his voice.

"Prank or no, you never talk to your mother, your sisters, or any woman in that manner again. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." John releases his son. "The lawn needs trimmed."

"Yes, sir."

Your son scurries away. It isn't until the door to the garage opens and shuts that John moves toward you. His arm drapes over your waist, hand landing firmly on your ass, squeezing hard.

"You're coming with me."

"To do what?"

He presses his lips to your ear. "For a different sort of punishment."

John "Soap" MacTavish

"You’re off your head, lad.”

With Johnny’s cold tone comes a tension to your son’s shoulders. He becomes rigid, sliding down into his chair like he can escape from his father by cowering underneath the table. Johnny comes around the corner, a bit of sweat on his brow. He's been building furniture all day for the nursery.

"Want to repeat that for me?" asks Johnny.

Your son’s voice cracks. "It was just a prank, Dad."

"It was what?" Johnny strides forward.

"It's a prank. I'm in on it. Promise," you say, attempting to soothe Johnny’s anger.

Johnny crosses his arms over your chest. "Is it?" He glances between the two of you and sighs, muttering, “Am pure done in.”

He disappears down the hall, returning with a stack of instructional manuals, dropping them into his son’s lap. "You're building furniture."

"But I—"

“You right scunner. C’mon.” Johnny yanks his son out of the chair, the stack of instructional manuals goes flying. Your son reaches for them all, desperately clasping them against his chest.

“Johnny," you call out, walking around the counter to intervene.

He glances over his shoulder, frown gown, sly smirk on his face. “Deal with you later."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Oi, Mum. Shut it.”

Your son is a wonderful actor. You’ll give him that. Even you almost believe him. Not that he would—he’d never—but his delivery reminds you of a completely pissed football fan ready to throw a punch at a member of the rival team.

He should consider theater.

Simon, your husband, is watching a rugby match in the living room. The television is on but at a low volume.

Within seconds of the words leaving your son’s mouth, Simon appears like a phantom guardian in the entryway. In one he holds the remote like a weapon. The other arm cradles his infant daughter. She looks like a small bean. Slightly curved as she snuggles closer against Simon’s chest as she sleeps.

He's not looking at you. He's staring at his son, gaze intense and full of fire.

You’ve seen that look before.

Mission abort.

"He's joking, Simon. It's just a prank,” you soothe, knowing you need to get ahead of this.

Not that Simon would hurt you or his son, but he rarely takes any shit. This prank was a gamble, and you’re completely regretting it.

"Don't mean it, Dad."

Simon just stares for a long minute. His daughter squirms and that is when he glances down, severing the connection. Observing her must change something in him, because his gaze returns to the two of you, and there is a calmness now.

Sighing heavily, Simon shakes his head, completely exasperated. The eye roll is so apparent it’s like a shout.

In the moment he was pissed—livid. But now he’s over it, more annoyed and unamused than actually mad.

Turning on his heel, daughter still cradled in one arm, Simon returns to his recliner, settling back into the soft cushions to finish watching his rugby match.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus @beebeechaos

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@kadeeesworld @umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm

@arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @spookyscaryspoon @enarien

[jenomi]

"look who finally decided to show up!" haechan yells when he sees you and your boyfriend jeno hand-in-hand approaching the group.

"keep going or you won't get a meal from us," jeno responds as he sets your shared stuff in the sand next to your friends towels.

haechan mimes zipping his lips before reaching in one of the paper bags you brought of take out food from the group's favorite restaurant.

you help jeno set up your XL towel to share, the wind whipping through the towel messing up the way the towel lays on the sand. you take off your sunglasses and look out towards the ocean where the sun glint blinds your eyes slightly, but it's so beautiful you can't look away.

when jeno takes off his shirt, you feel yourself getting shy and red even though you've seen him topless countless times. maybe cuz it's in public and in front of your friends. still, you feels a sense of pride.

"showoff," jaemin teases jeno.

you quickly but diligently apply sunscreen on your face and force jeno to sit still as you rub sunscreen into his face. he helps you put sunscreen on your back and you do the same for him before finally settling down and digging into your food alongside your friends.

"thanks for getting the food," renjun says as he sits next to jaemin on his towel.

"enjoy junnie," you smile at him and pat his cheek.

you, jeno, jaemin, haechan, and renjun sit in a loose circle formation as you share stories from the past few days you haven't seen each other or recalling stories from your shared past. you're thoroughly amused listening to the boys share their stories, and you glance over at jeno every once in awhile to catch him smiling or eating his food with wide eyes. you feel the need to be closer to him, so you press your leg against his and lean into him. jeno notices your touch and wraps an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer, continuing to listen to his friend ramble on about the most random things.

afterwards, jeno and jaemin get up to play frisbee on the water. you fall into natural conversation with renjun and haechan, with haechan nagging (ofc) and leaving you repeating phrases like "aishhh" and "so annoying", but deep down you both know you love him like a brother.

after some time, jeno comes back and asks you to go in the water with him. you hold hands walking into the water, stopping when the water first hits your feet to get adjusted to the cold. the water was pretty still today allowing you to get deeper into the water without being swept off your feet by large waves. still, you stayed closer to shore than jeno would prefer.

"come onnn let's go deeper, it doesn't get that deep," jeno pouts.

"jen-" you're cut off by jeno picking you up and running deeper into the ocean, the splashes hitting the back of your legs and face.

"JENO!!" you squeal as jeno laughs under you.

jeno grabs your thigh and wraps it around his waist underwater as you wrap your arms around his neck. jeno secures his hands under your thighs, keeping you propped up and secure against him. jeno smiles at you before kissing you and you play with the wet strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

"are you enjoying your time?" jeno asks.

it was a silly question. the beach was your favorite place to be, ever. it was hard to make time to go to the beach together with your work schedules and the weather not complying. but today was a perfect sunny day and coincidentally everyone had the day off today. so when you texted in the group chat that you and jeno were having a beach day and couldn't make plans, the rest of the boys asked if they could join. you and jeno happily agreed.

"of course," you reply pushing jeno's hair out of his eyes.

"you look beautiful like this," he smiles in return.

"like what?"

"under the sun, happy and glowing," you can hear the sincerity in jeno's voice, "you're my sun."

you bring your face closer to jeno's, foreheads touching, "i love you, if i'm the sun then you're my moon." you share a heated kiss before going for a quick swim then drying off under the sun. you lay on your stomach to read the book you brought and jeno lays on top of you, head resting on your bum.

the other boys start to play spikeball next to you as the sun starts to set. and when jeno wakes from his brief nap, he joins them. you end up watching them play, and the game just becomes a competition between haechan and jeno with renjun and jaemin bad at sports 😭

eventually you all sit back down to appreciate the sunset, with the three boys taking pictures of themselves. beside you, you hear a camera shutter. you turn to look at jeno who pulls up the picture he just took of you.

"pretty," he says adding it to his photo shuffle of phone wallpapers of you.

you and jeno end the day slightly sunburnt, tired from the sun, and hearts full of love.

a perfect day <3

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🔪・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝘁. 𝟭₊˚🔪・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 obsessed at the first glance 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 masturbation (toji time) 𖥔 "she's mine even if she doesn't know it yet" 𖥔 age gap 𖥔 he's downright depraved for you

: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: happy new year, mamas! and happy belated birthday to my baby daddy. y'all have no idea how fun it is to write toji fics. i've got a hundred already lined up. i'm going to make this a full series but for now here is part one of what's about to come (haha get it? oh god. i need help)

The first time Toji laid his eyes on you was the morning after he’d finished yet another one of his assassination cases.

There you were, seated on a picnic mat, a serene oasis in the bustling sea of activity. The wind danced through your hair, and you were engrossed in a book, your legs tucked comfortably beneath you. The music in your headphones created a private sanctuary, shielding you from the cacophony of playful children, picnicking families, and the vibrant hum of the city's summer.

Toji found himself rooted to the spot.

Oblivious to the annoyed cyclists and the world rushing past him, he stood there, captivated. It was as though he had stumbled upon a deity crafted solely for him.

You briefly raised your gaze, taking a momentary break from the confines of the small text.

Toji couldn't believe his luck as he found himself mesmerized by the tantalizing sight before him. Despite his best efforts to maintain composure, a telltale bulge in his sweatpants betrayed the mark you had on him. There you were, blissfully unaware, sipping from a water bottle that seemed almost rehearsed.

His fixation deepened as he observed every nuance of your movements—the curve of your mouth, the delicate way your throat accommodated the liquid, and the small hands that gripped the oversized bottle. He imagined his cock instead and flinched from the way his dick twitched. The simple act of you licking your lower lip and unbuttoning the top buttons of your dress shirt to fan yourself from the heat sent shivers down his spine.

You just had to start tying your hair up. 

Taking a deep breath, Toji briskly walked towards a nearby public restroom and locked himself in one of the vacant stalls.

His back pressed against the wall as he lowered his sweatpants and pulled his thick, trembling cock out, pre-cum trickling from the tip. He lowered his eyes and visualized you on your knees, grabbing his cock and circling your small, pink tongue around his tip. His head cruised back as you swallowed his length to the back of your warm throat, gagging, gasping, choking, bobbing your head back and forth. His fingers tightly held onto your tender scalp, fucking himself into your pretty, little mouth until your nose was crushed against his pelvis. He heard you begging, pleading, scratching at his hips to give you a breather, but Toji relentlessly fed you his cock, over and over and over—

Spurts of release erupted and splattered onto the stall's wall, with droplets dripping onto the floor. Toji opened his eyes only to find the space where your apparition was supposed to linger now empty. His hand was sticky and hot, smudged in the mess he’d made envisioning you. You. It was you who had provoked this intense response, causing him to reach a climax faster than ever before.

As Toji cleaned himself up, he couldn't ignore the unabashed stares from the onlookers, men who had clearly overheard him masturbating. Ignoring the judgmental gazes, he focused on formulating a plan to claim you, even if you fought or opposed it; he was convinced that, in time, you would surrender.

In his mind, you were already his.

Toji lingered for the next few hours on that park bench, focused on you. His eyes traced every move you made, absorbed in that stupid book of yours, oblivious to the frisbees and kites dancing above you. His gaze burned into the teenage boys engaged in soccer behind you, fuming as they carelessly neared you with the ball. Especially the one you beamed at after he half-heartedly apologized to you.

Fuck, that smile of yours was irreplaceable.

As you packed your mat into the duffle bag and rose, turning to dust your ass off from any debris sticking to it, Toji's thoughts took a blunt turn. Sleep was an impossibility now.

Following discreetly as you strolled down the path, immersed in the rhythm of your ear-throbbing music, Toji couldn't help but dissect every inch of you. Your clothes, undoubtedly high-end and branded, spoke volumes. The price tag on your headphones alone easily flirted with seven hundred dollars, if not more. It was clear—you came from a life of comfort, perhaps a spoiled heir or held a proud position in some grand corporation. You were proving to be a challenging prize, a fish that refused to be easily caught.

You decided to take a pit stop at a vegan café where they charged an arm and a leg for a tiny cup of espresso.

Patiently, Toji lingered outside, cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember casting shadows on his sharp features. Peering through the glass, he caught glimpses of your animated conversation with a male barista. Though, the bastard's eyes were shamelessly speaking to your cleavage.

Toji hadn’t killed anyone for fun in a while; maybe the lanky fucker was going to start a new streak. 

As you emerged, holding your iced coffee and muffin like some divine offering, he noticed the scribbles on the napkin. Ah, the barista's number, huh? The son-of-a-bitch just signed his own death warrant.

With a flick of your wrist, you crumpled the napkin and tossed it into the trash, conveniently placed right next to him.

Your eyes locked.

The cigarette in Toji's mouth hung suspended in a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Your gaze shot up as you took in the powerful physique of the man, the scar tracing its path on his left lip, and the black, sleek strands of hair framing those perilous, obsidian-green eyes. He was more than just attractive; he was a magnetic force, and you could feel the tingling of anxiety dancing on your skin. Too bad your family had always drummed into you the importance of polished over rugged.

Despite the internal turmoil, you turned on your heel and continued walking, nonchalantly sipping on your cold coffee to ease the tension building within you. There was an undeniable urge to steal one last glance at him, an itch in your brain pushing you to do so. With feigned composure, you added an extra sway to your hips, aware that his eyes were still on you.

Toji’s eyes were glued to your ass. Was he breathing? Nope. He was sure he’d busted his cover just then. You had checked him out for thirty whole seconds, the opportunity to speak suspended in the air, only to be pulled apart and crumble at his feet. 

But he didn’t care. 

He shadowed your every move, navigating through busy intersections, seamlessly blending into the teeming masses, keeping up with only the sway of your swinging ponytail and your ass. Fuck, he loved your ass. He wanted to spank it red, bruise the flesh for teasing you. 

Finally, you stepped into the most luxurious hotel in the city.

Toji wondered if you were a local or a visitor from abroad. If he had to purchase a plane ticket to tail you back to your residence, he'd gladly do it. It was insane how unknowingly you had him trapped, wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

The lobby was nothing short of fucking fancy.

The place was decked out with marble floors that shone so much he could almost see his reflection. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling with a zillion crystals.

The furniture was all plush and comfortable, like sinking into a cloud. Big, ornate couches and chairs scattered around, all in rich, deep colors.

In the middle was a fancy concierge desk with people in sharp suits and friendly smiles ready to help out. He caught a whiff of some subtle, expensive scent in the air—not too overpowering, just enough to make him feel like he was out of place.

There was a low hum of activity—people chatting, the clinking of glasses from the bar nearby, maybe some soft piano music in the background. He couldn't help but feel a bit important just standing there like he'd stepped into a world where everything was a little more polished and refined.

He was in hell.

"Dad!" you exclaimed, striding towards your father amidst a crowd of his guards and members of the family hotel enterprise board.

"Darling!" Your father embraced you briefly, then caught a whiff of something unusual around you. "Were you smoking?"

Shit. 

That attractive stranger from before had been smoking and the scent must’ve stuck to your clothes. 

"I bumped into a friend who was," you lied, acknowledging your father's associates with a nod. Your current appearance didn't exactly match the polished image your mother presented to the press, but it was a facet appreciated by some online fans. As the heiress to the family hotel, however, you understood the importance of maintaining grace.

Even on your days-off. 

"How was your meeting?" you asked.

"Same old, same old. Nothing for you to worry about," he replied dismissively.

"I mean, shouldn't I be involved? I'm almost twenty-one. It might be time for me to learn the ropes of managing—"

"I'm still around, aren't I?" Your father pushed your arm, causing you to stagger slightly. "Why don't you go freshen up now? We have a family dinner tonight." Family dinners, in this case, were elaborate affairs with your father and mother's vast social circles, almost a societal event. Unfortunately, everything was hosted at the hotel, making you feel like you were in a gilded cage.

"Sure, Dad."

He planted a quick kiss on your cheek and walked past you.

You stared at his retreating figure and the group of men you would eventually be working with, all of them vanishing through the hotel's automatic doors until the lights surrounding you became a blur. Your fingers touched your wet eyes, the back of your shaky hand wiping at your cheeks.

Despite the hurt, your training to act classy in public kicked in. You rolled back your shoulders, attempted a smile, and walked toward the elevators leading to your personal suite.

Observing the unfolding scenario from a discreet vantage point nearby, Toji, with arms and ankles casually crossed, wore a devilish smirk at how effortlessly the situation had played into his hands.

His room was on the twelfth floor. 

It served as a temporary base for the two nights he had planned to stay. Plenty of time, in his calculation, to claim you as his own. He walked the fine line between confidence and cockiness, especially when dealing with a woman of your caliber. If he were to leave empty-handed, Toji carried a darkness within that would annihilate those you loved, a merciless flood of destruction until you had no choice but to turn to him. His sights were set on you, beginning with your pretentious father.

Yes, Toji had researched each and every single human associated with you. 

Your father was a titan in the hospitality game and built an empire that stretched across the map. His hotels sprouted like mushrooms, and his wealth skyrocketed faster than you could say "check-in." He portrayed himself as the picture-perfect family man, but lurking in the shadows were dealings that'd make you think twice about tagging him with the 'daddy dear' label. During one of his many interviews, he let slip a desire for a son. When the inevitable talk of you inheriting the hotels surfaced, he'd chuckle, saying, "We'll see about that."

Toji absentmindedly toyed with his pocket knife, thinking of ways he’d cut your father’s tongue and shove it down his throat. 

Then there's your mom, the classic trophy wife. No accomplishments to her name, just born into a world of idle gossip and social climbing. Since you were in diapers, she's been molding you into the picture-perfect daughter for the public eye. Nannies raised you, and she only paid attention when it came to playing matchmaker, setting you up with aristocratic jerks.

Toji might spare your mother only because she was an airhead being puppeteered by your father’s gimmicks. 

You, on the contrary, were as perfect as one could get. Top of your class all through elementary to high school, currently enrolled in a business Ivy program at a prestigious university, president of the student union, and an active team player in clubs as absurd as juggling.

Your carefully crafted social media presence had Toji rolling his eyes. An avid reader who probably devoured Shakespeare in between saving the world and a lover of sunsets because nothing said depth like a passion for the fading light. Your commitment to wildlife, starting a charity for animals in captivity that was funded strictly by your family's friends. He bet the lions and tigers sent you thank-you cards.

Toji forcefully closed his laptop, took a deep breath, and sank into his mattress, gripping the roots of his hair.

He knew he wanted you. He wanted to touch you, to be inside of you, to break you and put you together again. The image of you being pushed by your father played in his mind, making his heart threaten to burst from his chest.

Despite the depraved thoughts, Toji was genuinely curious about you. The real you. The person seeking love in the same way you offered it to others. He wanted to fuck you but also take great care of you. He wanted to make you cry, but only when you were underneath him, begging for more. He’d kill himself if he hurt you otherwise. He questioned if a dormant monster within you waiting to be awakened by his own.

There had to be. 

And he would be the one to root it out.

Toji pulled himself together, took a quick shower, and threw on the best outfit he had found in his cramped closet within his even more cramped apartment while packing. Living in close quarters didn't bother him; after all, his income came from a rather unconventional source—he was a professional assassin, taking out targets for clients that ranged from politicians to drug dealers. Penthouses and sports cars weren't his style, even if he could afford them; he preferred the simple life, spending most of his earnings on one thing he enjoyed the most: gambling on horse racing.

Knowing that you'd be at the bar, Toji decided to do a bit of reconnaissance. He hacked into the private security servers of the hotel, observing your movements from the corridor to the public areas. He saw you leaving your room in a stunning maroon gown, hair elegantly pinned up, and lips painted a vibrant red. His dick jerked in his trousers.

He spotted you alone at the bar, enjoying a cyan-colored drink. The smooth expanse of your back in that revealing dress nearly made him come in his pants right there and then.

Cracking his neck muscles, Toji walked up to the bartender, positioning himself about two meters away from where you sat. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked the silver lighter, flaming the end of the dart. Drawing in the first drag, he exhaled a plume of smoke. “I’ll take a whiskey.” 

Giving you a casual once-over, Toji noticed you tracing circles on the table, lips in a pout, and eyes blinking languidly.

“Rough day?” he asked, settling into the seat beside you.

“You have no idea—” You looked sideways and met the dark green eyes of the attractive stranger. Your nails were now idle on the table, and you sat up straight. A breath caught in your chest, and you greeted him with a simple "Hi."

“Hi.” He pulled out the cigarette to take a sip, lips pulling in to savor the sharp taste of his whiskey. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, sweetheart.” 

Your chest skipped a beat at the unexpected nickname. "I-I— Are you stalking me or something?"

“Stalking is a strong word, doll. I prefer 'casual observation.'”

“So you’re stalking me?” 

The stranger chuckled, and your knees quivered from the husky, rough sound. “You're a vision, sure,” he said, his voice a slight victim to the smoking, “but I’m too much of a gentleman to do such a thing.” 

You observed his clothes closely. He was dressed in a sleek black formal ensemble with impeccably shiny Oxfords. However, his hair was neatly combed down instead of styled up, and you caught the silver hoop adorning his left ear. The idea of him being sent by your mother or being the son of one of your father's friends quickly crossed your mind, but you ruled out the possibility. Maybe him being outside that café and being here was a complete coincidence.

“The name’s Toji.” He extended his hand for a shake. You glanced at the faded scars on the back of his hands. And when you hesitantly slipped your hand through his, the roughness of his palm rubbed against your softer one. “Ever washed a dish in your life, sweetheart?” 

A shake of your head was all the admission he needed.

"Yeah, figured as much." Toji turned your hand, his thumb tracing a journey along its unblemished terrain.

You quickly took back your hand and placed it on your lap. “I’m sure you know my name.” 

Toji tilted his head. “Am I supposed to?” 

You blinked. In a world where your family name echoed through the corridors of the hotel, his genuine ignorance was a rarity. "I'm Y/N.”

"Y/N," he echoed, your name a lazy caress on your skin. Above the rim of his nearly empty glass, he regarded you with a watchful gaze. “The fuck is that, anyway? Windex?” 

You raised your drink. “It’s a mocktail. I have a family dinner in an hour so I can’t drink. My father says it’ll impede my ability to talk. I can’t mess anything up.” 

He half-rolled his eyes. “You like Coke?” 

“Like, the soda?” 

"What else, sweetheart?" He swiped a finger under his nose, throwing in a wink. "Unless that's your thing."

“No.” Your cheeks heated. “I like diet Coke, I suppose.” 

Toji locked eyes with you and signaled the bartender. "Vodka diet coke for the lady."

"What?" You started to object, but Toji's hand clasped around your forearm, freezing you. “Remove your hand right now.” 

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin playing on his lips. If he weren't so irritatingly charming, you might have considered introducing your mocktail to his face with a quick call to security as a chaser. “Just don’t want you to die knowing you never tried vodka.” His cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, exhaling wisps of smoke that danced in captivating swirls. “Ever smoked?” 

You shook your head, a coy resistance to his vices obvious on your face. "It's detrimental to your health, you know. Consistent smoking can fast-track your journey to an early death. If you're aiming for more than thirty candles on your birthday cake, I'd advise a little moderation."

A sardonic chuckle escaped him. “Well, fuck.” He inspected the dart in his hand as if it held the secrets of the universe. “Guess I missed the invitation for my funeral five years ago.”

He’s old. 

“Too old for you, sweetheart?” He dipped his head conspiratorially, locking eyes with you. "Hope you're not collecting a set of daddy issues like souvenirs."

You shot him sidelong glances, a subtle shake of your head. "I happen to like my dad, thank you very much."

“You’re welcome.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a small puff of a laugh at his response. 

He shot you a grin, his scar stealing a moment of your attention before the vodka diet Coke presented itself. “You still in school?” 

You nodded. “University.” 

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Keeps me distracted.” 

“From?” 

Your hand swept through the ambience of the hotel's bar, and Toji followed your motion, absorbing the surroundings. “I don’t know if my name rang a bell at all, but I’m to inherit this place.” 

“Didn’t.” Toji raised his glass, gesturing his chin at the vodka diet coke in front of you. “Let’s drink to it.” 

“I told you I can’t. I’m also lightweight. Besides, I don’t want it on my tab. My father keeps a check—”

“My father this, my father that.” Toji sighed, taking your drink and snagging a straw from a nearby container. He placed it near your lips. “Your father might have set the stage, but he can't dictate the play. Take a sip. If you hate it, fuck it. That work for you, sweetheart?"

You frowned at the subtle pressure venting from him. A fleeting swipe of your tongue traced your lower lip, drawing Toji's gaze to the subtle curve. His intense scrutiny left you feeling strangely singled out, a rare occurrence in a world where every tidbit of your life laid at the fingertips of anyone with an internet connection. Your secrets were a vault locked tight, shared with no one but yourself. Indulging in personal interests took a back seat to your responsibilities, and you strictly stuck to a scripted persona to protect your family's reputation. Even something as mundane as sipping on a vodka diet Coke. 

Toji set the drink on the table, slipping a generous tip to the bartender. His financial status seemed modest, likely someone comfortably positioned enough to book a room in your hotel. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t often give out advice ‘cuz frankly, I'm not exactly an expert on your generation.” He took a final drag of his cigarette, extinguished it under his foot, and nonchalantly dropped the remains into your drink. “But, you might want to dust off that brilliant little brain of yours sooner rather than later. Mind passing me a pen, buddy?” 

The tender handed him a sharpie instead, and Toji scribbled out something on a napkin.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself. You wanted him to ask you more questions. You wanted to know more about him. 

“Afraid so, doll.” He folded the napkin, both of you surreptitiously scanning the surroundings before he handed it over. A smirk played on his lips, causing you to rethink the urgency with which you accepted it. “Your old man taught you lots of lessons, but seems like 'Stranger Danger' wasn't part of his curriculum, huh?” 

“He doesn’t completely control me.” 

Toji smirked, tapping the folded napkin. “Well, we're about to test that theory."

He left you perched on the barstool, and the moment he vanished, you unfolded the napkin, heart pounding.

ROOM 1231. 

Sooner or later.

[kiesbrainjuice]

— FAV HQ BOYS WITH THIS TREND !

pr : timeskip!bokuto x fem!reader; timeskip!suna x fem!reader; timeskip!kageyama x fem!reader; nekoma!kuroo x fem!reader; timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader.

syn : you show your boyfriend a trending photo pose. After some playful banter, you both decide to try recreating the pose.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

wc : 3.5k

tw : no noya and kenma :(( suggestive talks and ends, fluff ! credit pic : srkork on insta

— BOKUTO KOTARO

The lazy Sunday afternoon stretched out before us like a cat in a sunbeam. Outside, the world was alive with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of neighbors enjoying the warm weather. But inside our cozy apartment, time seemed to slow to a delicious crawl.

Bokuto Koutarou and I were sprawled across our bed, a tangle of limbs and laughter. The late afternoon sun filtered through our fluttering curtains, painting everything in a soft, golden glow. It caught in Bokuto's wild silver hair, making it shine like a haphazard halo. I couldn't help but marvel at how even in this state of complete relaxation, he managed to look like he'd just stepped off a volleyball court – his muscular arm draped over my waist, a reminder of the power coiled within his laid-back frame.

We'd spent the morning in a whirlwind of activity – a impromptu volleyball match with friends that had turned into a picnic, which had then evolved into a competitive round of frisbee. By the time we made it home, we were pleasantly exhausted, content to lounge in comfortable silence.

Now, we were both absorbed in our phones, sharing the occasional meme or funny video. Bokuto's laughter, when it erupted, was like a sudden thunderclap – loud, infectious, and impossible to ignore. It never failed to make me smile, even when I had no idea what had tickled him so.

I was idly scrolling through Pinterest, looking for new recipe ideas (though knowing full well that Bokuto would eat anything I put in front of him with the same enthusiastic gusto), when a particular image caught my eye. It was edgy, provocative, and unlike anything we'd ever tried before.

"Bo," I said, gently nudging his ribs with my elbow. "look at this. It's pretty nice."

He rolled over, nearly crushing me in the process, his golden eyes bright with curiosity. "What's up, babe? Found another cute owl video?"

I shook my head, angling my phone so he could see the screen. "Nah, it's this new photo trend. Check it out."

The image showed a couple taking a selfie, but with a twist. The guy had his arm around the girl's neck, pretending to choke her in what was meant to be an sexy, edgy pose. It was provocative, to say the least.

Bokuto's eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his messy fringe. "Whoa, hold up! Is he trying to choke her or something? That's...weird!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. You could see the confusion on his face. Bokuto was usually up for anything, but this clearly threw him for a loop. "No, no, it's not real choking," you explained. "It's just for the picture, to make it look sexy and l possessive."

He scratched his head, his expression a mix of bewilderment and amusement. "I dunno, baby… It looks kinda weird. What if I really choke you with those strong arms of mine?"

You turned to face him, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come onnnn, Bo. You could look sexy and scary! You're like a big, cuddly owl."

He puffed out his chest, trying to look offended but failing miserably. "Hey! I can be sexy and scary when I want to be!"

You laughed, poking his cheek. "Sure you can, tough guy. So, do it for me!"

Bokuto's face scrunched up in thought for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Alright, let's do it baby! But if i choke you, we're deleting it and I’m killing myself, okay?"

You grinned back, relieved. "Deal. And hey, if it doesn't work out, do not kill urself please, Bo."

"If you ask!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "But even if you have the picture don’t post it!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Of course I won’t, Bo. Let's start with this and see how it goes."

After your initial attempt, you had an idea. "Hey Bo, let's try using the mirror length for the picture.”

Bokuto's eyes lit up. "Ooh, yeah! We can see more of us that way!"

You scrambled off the bed and positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. It was then that you really noticed what Bokuto was wearing - one of his compression shirts that he usually wore for volleyball practice. The tight black fabric clung to every contour of his muscular torso, accentuating his broad shoulders and defined chest.

You couldn't help but stare for a moment. Even after all this time, the sight of him like this still made your heart race. "Uh, Bo? Have you always looked this good in that shirt?"

He glanced down at himself, then back at you with a mischievous grin. "Oh? Like what you see, huh?"

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Maybe. Just a little."

Bokuto flexed playfully, striking a pose. "Well, I did just finish a workout this morning. Gotta keep in shape for my number one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, muscles, let's focus on the photo. Same pose as the pic?"

He nodded, moving behind you and wrapping his arm around your neck. This time, you could feel the warmth of his chest against my back, the firm pressure of his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was... distracting, to say the least.

"Ready?"You asked, trying to keep my voice steady as you held up your phone.

"Ready!" Bokuto replied, his breath tickling your ear.

You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection in the mirror. Bokuto's arm was around your neck, his intense "game face" expression in full effect. But what really stood out was the contrast between you both - his powerful, athletic frame in that form-fitting shirt, next to your smaller figure.

As soon as the picture was taken, Bokuto's serious expression melted into a grin. He peered over your shoulder at the phone screen. "Wow! We look good, don't we?"

You nodded, a little breathless. "Yeah, we do. Especially you in that shirt. Maybe you should wear it more often."

Bokuto's grin widened. "Oh? I thought you liked my owl-print t-shirts better…"

You turned in his arms, looking up at him. "Let's just say both have their merits! But right now, I'm definitely appreciating this one."

You handed him the phone to show him the photo you took. his eyes opened wider and he felt quite aroused by the photo of you surrounded by his arm. “w-wow, you turn me on…”

But he tried to get over it and leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "Noted. So, another picture, or...?"

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think we've got enough pictures for now. How about we find something else to do…?"

Bokuto's golden eyes sparkled with mischief. "I might have a few ideas…"

As he leaned in for a kiss you chuckled into it…

— SUNA RINTAROU

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining bright outside, and a cool breeze was blowing. In your room, everything felt slow and peaceful. It was the kind of quiet that feels good when you're with someone you really like.

Suna, your boyfriend, was lying on your bed, looking relaxed. His eyes were half-closed as he looked at his phone. The sun made his face look nice, showing off his sharp jaw and the small smile on his lips. You couldn't help but stare a little.

You were both doing your own thing, but still felt close. Sometimes Suna would laugh at something on his phone, or you'd say something small. It felt nice and normal. In these quiet times, you felt closest to Suna. He looked softer than usual, and you could see how much he cared even if he didn't say it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"baby," you said, breaking the comfortable silence. "look at this."

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes, usually half-lidded, showed a flicker of interest. "What's up?"

You showed him the picture on your phone - a couple doing the possessive choking pose with the muscular arm for a selfie. "It's this new photo trend. Kind of sexy, don't you think?"

Suna's eyebrows raised slightly, the most expression you'd seen from him all afternoon. "Huh? Interesting choice for a couples photo…"

You could see the wheels turning in his head as he analyzed the image. Suna was always observant, probably already picking up on details you'd missed.

"Wanna try it?" you asked, a hint of challenge in your voice.

He looked at you, then back at the phone, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You sure about that? I don't think you could pull off the 'dramatically choked' look. You'd probably start laughing."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. He knew you too well. "Oh, c’mon. I can be serious when I want to be!"

Suna sat up, his movements fluid and graceful. "Alright, let's see it then. Your ‘serious’ face."

You tried your best to look serious and dramatic, but you could feel your lips twitching, fighting back a smile.

Suna's smirk grew wider. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Very intimidating."

You grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he easily dodged. "It’s your fault, your face makes me laugh! How about you show me how it's done?"

He shrugged, but you could see a glimmer of competitive spirit in his eyes. "Well thanks…” he sighed and raised his eyebrows ”And sure, why not. Could be interesting."

You positioned yourselves in front of the mirror. Suna stood behind you, his arm loosely draped around your neck. Even in this silly pose, you could feel the quiet strength in his lean muscles.

"Ready?" you asked, holding up your phone.

Suna nodded, his face transforming into an intense, focused expression that you usually only saw during volleyball matches. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture, capturing your reflection. Suna's intense muscular arm bore into the camera, a stark contrast to your slightly flustered expression.

As soon as the picture was taken, Suna's arm relaxed back into its usual demeanor. He peered at the phone screen over your shoulder.

"Not bad," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Though I think we just proved my point about your serious face, baby."

You elbowed him gently in the ribs. "shut up. Not everyone can go from zero to intimidating in half a second like you."

He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. "It's a gift," he deadpanned, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

You leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "So, what do you think? Should we post it?"

Suna was quiet for a moment, considering. "Nah," he finally said. "Let's keep this one just for us. It's more sexy that way."

You smiled, turning in his arms to face him. "You know, for someone who acts so aloof, you can be pretty sweet sometimes."

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the faint blush on his cheeks. "Don't go spreading that around. I have a reputation to maintain. And look at you in my so-muscular arm…"

As you leaned in to kiss him, “I look pretty hot like that…”

— TOBIO KAGEYAMA

It was a rare day off from volleyball practice. You and Tobio were in your living room, trying to relax. The TV was on, playing a volleyball match, but neither of you was really watching. Tobio sat on the couch, his posture a bit stiff, eyes darting between his phone and the TV screen.

"baby," you said, gently nudging his arm. "look at this."

He turned to you, his intense blue eyes focusing. "What is it?"

You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's a new photo trend. Kind of sexy, right?"

Tobio's brow furrowed as he stared at the image. "Why would anyone want a picture like that?" he asked bluntly.

You couldn't help but smile at his typical straightforward response. "I guess some people think it looks sexy or possessive, like me. Want to try it? Just for fun?"

He looked confused for a moment. "Is this important to you?"

"Noooo," you admitted. "I just thought it might be fun to see how it turns out. Be please baby!"

Tobio hesitated, then nodded with a sigh. "Okay. If it'll make you happy..."

You both stood up and moved in front of the mirror. Tobio proudly put his muscular arm around your neck, and started flexing to show off his muscles, which made you chuckle a bit.

"Tobio, can you hold less tight," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice. "I know already how you are muscular, don’t worry baby."

He adjusted his grip slightly, his face a mix of concentration and redness. "L-like this?"

"Perfect. Now pose for me, baby."

Tobio's expression immediately changed to his game face - eyes sharp and focused, jaw set. It was almost scary how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture quickly. As soon as it was done, Tobio dropped his arm and stepped back, looking relieved.

Looking at the photo, you couldn't help but chuckle. Tobio's intense muscular and flexed arm next to your slightly amused smile was quite a sight.

"What's so funny?" Tobio asked, peering at the screen while chuckling.

"Just us, baby," you said, still smiling. "We look so serious. It's kind of sexy actually, don't you think?"

Tobio's cheeks turned slightly pink. "It's... different," he mumbled. "But I like how you are in my arm like that..."

You felt a warmth in your chest at his honesty. "Me too, baby. How about we take a nice, cozy pic now?"

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Okay. But no more weird poses."

As you cuddled up to take a regular selfie, you kissed his cheek “I love you, Tobio.”

— KUROO TETSURO

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon at training camp. You were sitting on the grass outside the gym, enjoying a brief respite from the intense volleyball practices. Kuroo sauntered over, his trademark messy hair even more disheveled than usual, and flopped down beside you with a dramatic sigh.

"Exhausted already, captain?" you teased, poking his side.

He flashed you his signature smirk. "Me? Never. Just giving the others a chance to catch up."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. Hey, check this out."

You showed him your phone screen - a picture of a couple doing the possessive choking pose for a selfie. "It's some new photo trend. Pretty hot, huh?"

Kuroo's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh? Trying to tell me something, kitten? Didn't know you were into that kind of thing..."

You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned close to your face, brushing your lips with his at the end of his sentence. "Tetsu! It's not like that. It's just supposed to be…artistic or whatever."

He chuckled, leaning in closer. "Relax, I'm just teasing. Though I gotta say, it does look nice for us. Wanna try?"

You blinked, surprised by his enthusiasm. "Really? You don't think it's too weird?"

Kuroo shrugged, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. "Hey, I'm always up for trying new things with you! Plus, it could be fun to mess with the team later."

You couldn't help but laugh. "You're impossible. Alright, let's do it and my arm is muscular, I could show you..."

You both stood up and moved to a nearby wall. Kuroo positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm draped around your neck. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back, and it was... distracting, to say the least.

"Ready?" he murmured, his breath tickling your ear when he leaned down just to adjust right after.

You nodded, trying to keep your composure as you held up your phone. "Okay, try to look hot."

“Try?? I don’t even need to try!” He acted offended. Kuroo's expression immediately transformed into his focused game face, the one that always sent shivers down opponents' spines. It was almost unnerving how quickly he could switch it on.

You snapped the picture, then turned in Kuroo's arms to look at it together. The contrast between his muscular arm and your slightly flustered expression was striking.

"Well, well," Kuroo said, his voice low and teasing. "Looks like my arm is so hot, don't you think? Though I gotta say, you look hot under the collar there, kitten. Was it something I did?"

You elbowed him gently, but couldn't help smiling. "Oh, shut up. You're such a tease."

He laughed, pulling you closer. "You love it though, admit it, baby."

You leaned into him, enjoying his warmth. "Maybe. But don't let it go to your head. It's big enough as it is."

Kuroo gasped in mock offense. "My head is perfectly proportional, thank you very much. Anyway, now I can show to everyone that you’re mine…"

He kissed your lips with hunger, but you pushed him back gently. “Not here…”

He took your hand and brings you up, the silly photo forgotten for the moment.

— ATSUMU MIYA

The MSBY Black Jackals' training facility was quieter than usual, the usual squeaks of shoes on polished floors and the thunderous impacts of spikes replaced by a lazy afternoon lull. Most of the team had already left for the day, their energy spent on grueling drills and practice matches. The air still held a faint scent of sweat, mingled with the sharp tang of air salonpas.

You had been waiting for what felt like hours, alternating between watching Atsumu's extra practice through the gym windows of the lounge area and idly scrolling through your phone. It was a familiar routine - Atsumu pushing himself just a little further, always chasing that perfect set, while you patiently waited, a silent pillar of support. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the lounge area where you sat, when you finally heard the telltale sound of the gym doors opening and Atsumu's distinctive footsteps approaching.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Oi, still hanging around?" he called out, a smirk playing on his lips.

You looked up, matching his smirk. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't overwork yourself, the Pro Athlete."

Walking behind you to give you a shoulder massage for a few seconds and kiss you on the mouth from behind, he stopped by to sit on the sofa in the lounge next to you to cuddle slightly.

Atsumu plopped down next to you, peering at your phone. "Whatcha looking at? Better not be Tobio-kun's serves again."

You snorted. "As if. No, look at this trend."

You showed him the picture of the couple doing the possessive choking pose. Atsumu's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, ain't that something," he drawled. "People really do anything for likes these days, huh?"

"Says the guy who spent an hour perfecting his hair for his official team photo," you retorted.

Atsumu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "Your wounds cut deep, ya know that?"

You laughed, then had an idea. "Hey, we should try it."

"Try what? You wanna make out here, huh?" Atsumu looked skeptical but was ready to jump on you if you nodded, which you didn’t.

"The pose, dummy. Could be funny."

Atsumu's eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh? You want me to manhandle you for the 'gram? Kinky."

You felt your face heat up as you gently push his head of your shoulder to face him. "Shut up, 'Tsumu. You in or not?"

"'Course I'm in. Can't let my baby down, can I?"

You both stood up, moving to a clear wall. Atsumu positioned himself behind you, his flexed arm tight around your neck.

"Ready when you are, darlin'," he murmured close to your ear.

You suppressed a shiver. "Okay, press."

Atsumu's arm pressed your cheeks and flexed his muscles. You snapped the picture quickly before you could faint from blushing.

Looking at it together, you couldn't help but laugh. "We look ridiculous."

"Speak for yerself," Atsumu retorted. "I look dashingly hot."

You elbowed him playfully. "Your ego is showing, 'Tsumu."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Ya love it though."

As you leaned into him, he carried you like a princess to the lounge sofa: he had locked the door…

pic :

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[sungbeam]

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨!

nonidol!jung wooyoung x f!reader

the one where you're stuck in denial and wooyoung's determined to not be stuck in the friend zone.

7.7k words, fluff, f2l, they've kinda got a banter thing going on, he's in a frat cuz i said so, college au, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol and food, pining, obliviousness, jealousy/insecurity if you squint...? (sorry mark), barely proofread, overall pretty wholesome

a/n: okay... wooyo brainrot going hard lately, but anyways, hope u enjoy <3

The horizon glittered like a sea of molten gold when you stepped onto the sandy shores of the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, riding the setting sky like your friends currently in the surf. You smiled to yourself, inhaling the briny air and slipping the shades off your nose and up onto your head. Your sandals hung limp in your hand as grains of sand embedded themselves into the soles of your bare feet while you jogged down the hill toward the bonfire and crowd of people.

The last week of summer before the fall semester brought your friends to convince you to come to their last bonfire at the beach. It wasn't difficult to persuade you.

“Oy, Yn! Head's up!"

Your eyes shot open and your head whipped up. Sandals fell from your hand as they came up to grab the frisbee out of the sky. It was plastic and blue, with scratches engraved into its surface from thorough use.

Hoots of approval erupted from further down the bank. "Nice catch!" Yeonjun praised as he jogged to meet you in the middle. A light blue Hawaiian shirt hung loose off his lean frame, unbuttoned to display the glorious, toned muscles of his chest.

You grinned, handing him the frisbee before picking your sandals back up. The two of you walked together back towards the group. "Thanks. How're you, Jun?"

He pulled you into a brief, yet affectionate side hug. "I'm great! You?"

"Same here." You had been itching for an outing—and dreading the first day back to class—so this would be good for you. “Who's here today?”

“Ah, y'know, the usuals.” He grinned at you then, sending you a teasing wink. “Your lover boy's here for sure. He wouldn't miss this for the world.”

Your skin warmed at the playful comment and you were failing to pretend it was just because it was hot out here. You rolled your eyes. “He is not my lover boy.”

“Based on the fact you knew who I was talking about though,” he drawled with a singsong tone. He let out a loud guffaw at your less than gruntled expression. “You know, he ditched his frat's annual pool party to be here.”

“That's his prerogative—I don't know how that relates to me,” you said with your palms raised up helplessly.

As you turned around to walk in front of him, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose with a grin. “It's cute when you're in denial.”

You scoffed, backpedaling in the opposite direction to where Changbin was hollering for him to hurry up with the frisbee. “Denial, as if.”

“Whatever you say, Cher,” he snickered, then raised his hand up in goodbye to jog across the sands to the game of frisbee.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. The sun glared in your eyes as you trudged through the sand toward the sounds of your other friends hollering at you from the barbeque and speaker system set up. You flicked your shades back over your eyes, an easy smile coming to your face. “Hi everyone! Smells delicious over here.”

Chan was stationed at the small, portable barbeque with a bottle of beer in his hand. He smiled as you neared, digging his hand into the cooler beside him to pass you a fresh bottle of hard lemonade. “You're right on time, Yn. Dinner is almost ready.”

“I do believe I have impeccable timing,” you mused, thanking him while accepting the bottle. You dropped your sandals to the sand by your feet so you could free your hands and twist the bottle cap off.

“So glad you could make it, Yn!” Lia chimed in from her spot beneath the beach tent. She and Chaeryeong were lying on their stomachs with books splayed out before them for a light beach read.

“Hey guys! Glad I could make it, too—”

“Oh my god, is that Yn Ln?”

Your head whipped around in the direction of the new voice, and you watched as Felix trudged up the sandy bank with his surfboard under his arm, his free hand brushing back his strands of damp hair.

“Felix Lee, you've been chickening out on me all summer.”

He gave a lazy smile back at you as the two of you clasped hands in greeting, his being cold and wet from the waves and yours dry and gritty with sand. “You say that like you haven't been working all summer. Anyways, there's someone who's been dying to see you even more than me.”

You could spot the impish mischief in the blond's eyes from a mile away. “I feel like everyone's been telling me the same thing, but I haven't seen Wooyoung anywhere.”

“First time she says my name, and it's not even to my face,” came a dramatic sigh from somewhere behind you.

The organ in your chest kicked into action and you turned to face the newcomer bounding toward the group from up the hill where the parking lot was. He was clad in a pair of board shorts and a tank top, his skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. “Speak of the Devil,” you jested, poking your tongue into your cheek as you smiled.

Jung Wooyoung peered at you from over the rim of his sunglasses as they slipped down the slope of his nose, then pushed them up to nestle in his locks of dark brown hair. “That nickname's a new one.”

“It's an expression, Jung,” you said, eyebrow arched.

He gave yet another melodramatic sigh. “And she's back to the last name-calling. Would it kill you to try a 'sweetheart’ or a 'darling’ one of these days?”

“I think Yn would rather go into cardiac arrest before calling you by your first name, mate,” Felix gave a warm laugh as he sidled up beside his friend, propping his arm up onto Wooyoung's shoulder.

You lifted your bottle of lemonade in salute. “Lix, you are not wrong. Where've you been anyways, Jung?”

“Did you hear that? She cares about my whereabouts,” he gasped in giddy delight, palm over his mouth as if he and Felix were co conspirators. “I'll have you know, Ln, that Hyunjin and I were scouting for ice cream carts, but he had a phone call to take so I came back here.”

You gave a pleasant hum, knocking back a sip of the spiked lemonade. “An ice cream cart? A man after my own heart.”

“Took you that long to notice?”

You weren't given much time to ponder on that statement before everyone's attention turned to Chan, who announced that it was finally time to eat. By some miraculous force of nature, Hyunjin heard Chan's call, too, and came barreling down the hill toward base camp a few moments later. The frisbee was laid to rest, the books were marked for later, and the bonfire was set ablaze.

With delicious eats and favored company, the lot of you gathered around with one another to have dinner and watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon line. It was the perfect cap to a long and warm summer.

A few hours later, when the sun had only just disappeared from view to leave the sky a lingering shade of hazy orange, you settled beside Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yeonjun on one side of the fire pit while Chan sat on his stool with a ukulele he kept in his backseat. (You were pretty sure that ukulele lived in his backseat at this rate. Once, you saw him buckle the thing with its own seatbelt. To each their own, you supposed.)

“So Wooyoung-ah,” drawled Changbin from his perch beside Hyunjin, as the two of them plucked chips out of the same bag, “did Hongjoong say if movie night was confirmed for next Friday?”

All eyes flickered over to Wooyoung expectantly, and you found yourself meeting his gaze as his own flitted from your eyes and back to Changbin. “I’m pretty sure we're still on for Friday, yeah. All of you better be there,” he said pointedly, his finger drawing over the group.

“What time is it again?” Yeonjun asked as he shoved a marshmallow into his cheek. You smiled to yourself and poked at it, making him send an adorable scowl your way.

Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Ah… it should start around nine o'clock. But make sure you guys text me first so I can let you in. Sometimes the pledges don't care to ask before collecting fees at the door.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement resounded from around the group. Each one of you had your own experience with getting hassled for entry fee at the ATZ fraternity door before Wooyoung or one of his frat brothers came to collect you. You remembered Felix once joking about having all of your names on a list or something.

“Ln, you're coming, aren't you?” Wooyoung nodded at you from across the bonfire. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, his fine features illuminated by the fires.

Your pulse skipped. “Hm? Oh, uhm, yeah I'm pretty sure.”

A smile curled onto his lips. “Good.”

From beside you, Yeonjun lightly smacked the back of his hand against your shoulder. “Hey, you should totally invite that guy from our Econ class—y’know from last quarter—?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Mark?”

“Who's Mark?” The question Wooyoung posed was innocent, but you couldn't help hyperfixate on the way he tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

And for some reason, you wanted to clear this up. “Mark from Econ,” you said. “He, Jun, and I used to sit with each other during class. I dunno if he'd wanna come with…” You somewhat kept in touch with Mark over the summer, but it wasn't like the two of you hung out solo or anything.

Yeonjun shoved another marshmallow into his mouth, but still spoke through it, “Mawk's cool doe. I fink he iked you.”

“Ooh, someone had a crush on you, Yn?” Hyunjin snickered.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “He did not have a crush on me; he was just nice.”

“You should invite him anyway!” Chaeryeong piped up as she leaned over you and Lia to steal a marshmallow from Yeonjun's bag. The owner of said bag watched the stolen marshmallow get swallowed whole with wide eyes. “More the merrier.”

“As long as Woo lets him in,” Felix muttered into his plastic cup so his words were slightly muffled. You didn't hear what he said, but you saw Wooyoung whack him and induce a Felix-standard fairy giggle.

You reached into Yeonjun's marshmallow bag, pretending he wasn't gawking at you with even wider eyes to guilt you into not taking his precious. “Okay, I will ask, but no promises.”

“Who the fuck is Mark from Econ?”

San barely glanced up from what he was reading and he flipped the page to the tune of Wooyoung's rapid pacing of their shared room. “He's from Econ, I'm guessing.”

Wooyoung stopped in the middle of the open space between their beds, hands braced on their hips. He had just gotten home from the bonfire after having dropped off Hyunjin, Yeonjun, and Changbin at their apartment. When he'd arrived home to the ATZ fraternity on Greek Row, he had not been surprised to find nearly everyone still awake, even at one in the morning.

San, as always, had his nose buried in a bout of nightly reading. He claimed it helped him sleep better, but how could it if he sometimes stayed up until five in the morning because he was so invested?

“That's very helpful, thanks,” Wooyoung deadpanned.

His friend spared him a glance from over the book's edge. Then after one peak at his sorry state, San sighed and stuck an old receipt into the book to mark it for later. “Did they mention a last name? Mark who?”

Wooyoung waved his hand around. “Agh, I dunno. Yeonjun said in the car ride home something about a Mark Lee…”

San blinked, head tilting to the side in thought. “Mark Lee? Like the Mark Lee from NCT down the street?”

For a moment, Wooyoung only stared with furrowed brows, allowing the information presented to process through his brain. When it hit him, it was clear as day. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face as he plopped down on the edge of his bed. “We can't let him into Friday's movie night, Sannie.”

“And why not? He's a nice dude.”

“That is exactly why we can't let him in!” At the way San's face arranged itself into the epitome of confusion, Wooyoung waved his hands around in a manic craze. “If he gets cozy with Yn, my chances are ruined.”

San gave up; he picked up his book again. “Sounds like a skill issue.”

“Movie night? Dark setting? Sharing blankets? Fairy lights overhead?” Wooyoung flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. It was the perfect way to get closer to you if he could somehow make it not weird since you were almost always with one of your other friends. This could arguably be his big breakthrough with you; it had all of the makings of a romantic night… as long as everything went right.

He just needed to be absolutely sure that your feelings and his feelings were on the same page.

San sighed, the book flopping onto his lap. “Why can't you just—I don't know—insert yourself?” He made a motion with his arm, his dimples digging into his cheeks as he pressed his lips together in a deadpan, arm jutting straightforward. “Insert. Like… insert.”

Wooyoung craned his head up from his position. “Like—insert?”

“Insert,” San affirmed. “She sits down, and you sit down next to her before anyone else can. Easy.”

“So you want me to be a parasite?”

San scoffed and fixed Wooyoung with a pointed look. “If you're not going to tell her to her face that you like her—”

“Parasitism, it is!”

As the days grew closer to the ATZ frat's annual fall movie night, you had to admit that you might have been severely procrastinating on extending an invitation to Mark. Mark was, by all counts, a nice guy. He was a good guy, in fact. But it wasn't like the two of you were buddy-buddy with each other, as Yeonjun made it sound like to everyone else. It was the equivalent of your mom asking you to invite your neighbor to your birthday party—they were nice enough, but you weren't close enough to ensure this wouldn't be awkward.

Plus, you couldn't get this sticky feeling out of the back of your mind about Yeonjun claiming Mark liked you. There was no problem, per se, with a guy liking you. It was just that… you weren't interested in him like that. You also didn't want other people thinking that you were interested in him either, and getting the wrong idea.

You tried to convince yourself that you weren't interested in anyone at the moment, but you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, that wasn't true. You just didn't want to admit it. (A tragedy, indeed.)

When the first Friday night of the university term rolled around, you and your friends pulled up outside the ATZ frat house without Mark Lee. You'd admitted to them that it was awkward, so the subject was easily brushed away. There was nothing they could do about it now, anyway.

When they strolled up to the entryway, Yeonjun told the pledges at the front that they were with Wooyoung. As per protocol, they forced you all to wait outside until Wooyoung could get there from wherever he was within the house. You could hear the music thumping from the backyard, along with chatter and laughter, all from people waiting for the movie night to start.

You shivered as you hugged your arms around your body, a cool autumn breeze blowing past. “Damn, I should've brought a jacket,” you laughed, hopping around from foot to foot to stay warm. Or maybe you should've worn a sweater rather than a T-shirt over your pajama shorts.

Lia perked up. “Oh! I think I have o—”

Felix's eyes widened as he interjected, “No, you don't!”

Everyone passed Felix a strange look, especially you and Lia. Curiously, you watched as Felix seemingly communicated with Lia in silent, urgent facial expressions before smiling at you like his regular, ray-of-sunshine self.

You blinked. What in the world…?

Lia turned back toward you with an apologetic wince on her face. “I think I took my jacket out of the backseat before I left the house. Sorry, Yn.”

“Oh, that's okay,” you assured her. “I'll, uh, probably steal Chan's blanket or something once we get settled.”

Wooyoung appeared at the door moments later, a lollipop stick between his teeth and a cozy dark blue hoodie on his frame. Like many others here tonight, he was in a pair of pajama pants and fluffy slippers. “Hey guys! Come on in.”

Thankful for the excellent timing, you all slipped inside the front doors of the frat to get to the backyard. The movie night was usually held in the backyard space just because it could hold more people. The movie was then projected against the back of the house with an old projector that was apparently passed down from generation to generation of the frat. There was oftentimes a table to the side that was stocked with snacks and booze for all those attending.

Wooyoung led the group of you out into the backyard, specifically to a spot with a decent view, already laid out with picnic blankets and regular blankets. “Tada!” He exclaimed with jazz hands, catching the amused gaze of others nearby. “I reserved a spot for all of us!”

“Without permission!” Somebody—you recognized Yunho's teasing grin from over by the snack table—yelled.

“Seonghwa hyung said I could!” Wooyoung shot back in proper little sibling fashion. He stuck one of his hands into his pockets and took his lollipop out. “Anyways, help yourselves!”

“This is really cool of you, dude,” Changbin said as he bumped Wooyoung's fist and settled on one corner of the setup.

Chan hobbled over toward Changbin. “Yeah, man. We really appreciate it.”

You murmured your own thanks to Wooyoung as you passed by him to decide on where to sit.

His eyes flickered over your form, noting the way you used your palms to keep your arms warm. “Hey, Ln.”

“Jung,” you mused back.

“You didn't bring a jacket?” He asked incredulously. “It's gonna get colder tonight.”

Sheepishness washed over you and you scratched your head with an embarrassed smile. “I'll be fine under the blankets.”

He shook his head, dissatisfaction clear on his face, as he stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and began shouldering off his jacket.

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Hey, wait—I’ll be fine—”

Wooyoung held out the jacket to you, eyebrows lifting in silent communication. 'Put it on.’

You pursed your lips and considered it for a moment. You knew that he was right and it was going to get colder later tonight. You could only bring the blanket up so far… Slowly, you slipped into it with his help, and your upper body was immediately grateful for the warmth.

Wooyoung spun you around to face him again, swiftly reaching for the zipper at the bottom to zip you up.

“Oh, you don't have to—” You shut up with one look from him. You could feel your skin begin to warm, not just because of the residual heat from Wooyoung's body heat on the jacket. You weren't exactly used to this, but you also weren't going to complain. This article of clothing smelled sinfully good—was that his cologne or how he always smelled?

When you were all zipped up, his lips pressed into a content smile. “I'm gonna go grab another jacket. I'll be right back,” he said, throwing a thumb back in the direction of the house.

Based on the fact he was only wearing a tank top underneath the jacket you now wore, you nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “Thanks.”

His smile widened. “No problem, Yn. You look good in it.”

You didn't get another word in because he was darting across the backyard and disappearing inside the house before you could. You were sure you looked as flustered as you felt, and you slowly sank onto the blanket set up beside Chaeryeong and Lia.

From down the line, you could feel your friends’ eyes and wagging brows.

“Don't say anything,” you said to them, pulling your knees to your chest and pretending you weren't in heaven from how nice the jacket felt and smelled. (Oh god, were you being weird about this?)

A snort from Hyunjin.

Felix giggled. “Not a single word.”

By the time Wooyoung returned, Hongjoong was beginning to fire up the movie of choice tonight (Parasite—how fitting) and the backyard had been substantially populated.

Though there was no Mark Lee tonight to be a parasite about, Wooyoung settled on the other side of Chaeryeong who was right beside you. There was a bucket of popcorn per every three or so of you. You dipped into the bucket closest to you, which was the one in front of Chaeryeong.

At some point during the movie, Chaeryeong raised her head from where she was resting against your shoulder and searched the area around you. “Hey,” she whispered to you, “my friend from the Delta sorority is over there and I'm gonna go say hi.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

As she clambered to her feet, you met Wooyoung's eyes from her other side. He had tugged his own hood over his head, so only his bangs hung out of it. He nodded toward Chaeryeong in question: ‘Where’s she going?’

“Just a friend,” you answered quietly.

From your other side, you heard Lia make a small gasping sound. “Ooh, I'm gonna say hi, too!”

When both of them had cleared out, you craned your head around to see if you recognized the Delta they went to greet. You did not, and so you stayed put.

It didn't take long for you to realize that you were pretty sure Lia and Chaeryeong were over there for much more than a hello, which was completely fine—you were simply going to hog all of their blanket space—

A throat cleared on your left side, and you watched Wooyoung take the shared popcorn bucket and scoot over into where Chaeryeong was sitting next to you. “So we can reach easier,” he reasoned, shoveling a handful of buttered kernels into his mouth.

You couldn't and didn't argue with that. Though, you were unsure of how fast your heart was beating now that you and he were shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

But you turned your attention back to the movie because obviously there was nothing wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing about sitting this close to Wooyoung that was making you flustered—

You jolted when your hand touched his in the popcorn bucket, both of you having blindly reached in.

Your eyes met in the dark again, and you hoped he couldn't see just how affected you were by the touch. “Sorry,” you whispered, withdrawing your hand swiftly.

“No, it's okay,” he murmured back, a small lift in the corner of his lips. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

When the movie reached its inevitable conclusion, it was nearing midnight. Though the projector was turned off, there were plenty of people still lingering to chat and drink. You wiped your hands on a napkin and smeared on a dollop of hand sanitizer that Chan usually kept in his pocket. (The crazy man was always prepared.)

Lia and Chaeryeong eventually came back to the group, but you and Wooyoung scooted over so they could sit next to each other on your right. Your arm was still pressed to his arm, and you still kept his jacket on. It had done a brilliant job at keeping you warm tonight; you were dreading parting with it.

“Can we help you guys clean up or anything?” You asked him as you passed him Chan's bottle of hand sanitizer to use.

He hummed, “Uh, I think we should be okay. We'll probably just end up leaving half of it out to clean up in the morning anyway.”

You nodded, taking the hand sanitizer back from him so you could pass it down the assembly line to Chan.

“Oh, by the way,” Wooyoung piped up. “Whatever happened to that Mark guy you were gonna invite?”

You paused, cupping the back of your neck. “Ah… yeah, I didn't actually invite him,” you admitted. “I just thought it would be awkward 'cause we're not really that close.”

He bobbed his head in understanding. “I see, I see. So what Yeonjun said about him…?”

“Your first mistake was listening to Yeonjun.”

Two people down, you heard a squawk of indignation. “Hey! I heard that!”

A chuckle rang out amongst your group. Changbin and Chan's end of the blanket mass suddenly began standing up, the former of which was propping up a half-conscious Felix, citing needs to get the blond to bed. The rest of you wholeheartedly agreed and joined them, empty popcorn buckets in hand to deposit back at the snack table.

As soon as your bare legs hit the cold night air, you gazed forlornly at the blanket you'd been using before. “Jung, let me give you back your jacket,” you said, catching his attention before he wandered off.

But instead of waiting for you to take off the garment, he placed a hand over yours to stop you from unzipping it. “Keep it,” he said.

“Keep it?” You parroted back dumbly.

He broke into a smile. “Yeah, it'll keep you warm until you get home.”

For a moment, you could only stare. Was he always this pretty? Or was it just the fairy lights that were turned on overhead? You swallowed, your lips curling into a small smile back. “Oh okay—thanks. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled and reached over to pat your head. The action made a jolt of warmth run down your spine from your head to your toes. Maybe you were just tired.

Saturday night, you found yourself jostling around in the crowd of all the other late night snackers at the fast food chain a few blocks from the stadium. The first college football game of the season had just ended, and all of your friends who had gone agreed to get a bite to eat afterward. It seemed, however, that nearly everyone else at the game had the same idea.

The establishment was packed to the brim, at least the ordering area was. Your friends had gone outside to score one of the picnic benches for your group, while you, Changbin, and Felix were stuck here to order. (It was all because the three of you sorely lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and now your wallet would pay, quite literally.) Servers behind the counter hollered out order numbers, and plastic trays of burgers, fries, milkshakes, and grease passed hands.

Your mouth was already watering; cheering and screaming for three hours was a good way to make yourself famished. “Do we have everyone's orders?” You asked your friends, sticking your head in the open space between their shoulders.

Changbin flashed you the group text. “If it's not here, they're starving.”

“Amen to that,” Felix grunted, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and scrolling through his social media fees. “I think Hyunjin and Yeonjun purposely ordered the triple cheeseburger and loaded fries to break our banks.”

“We need to watch that WikiHow video on winning rock, paper, scissors,” you said. The three of you sighed altogether—next time, you wouldn't rely on just luck to get you through something so high stakes.

“You guys look like we just lost the actual game,” mused a familiar voice behind you.

Wooyoung appeared at your side, elbow propped onto your shoulder, accompanied by a couple of his frat brothers, San and Jongho. Wooyoung had a university branded cap over his head with a pair of cherry red heart glasses seated up on the bill, a bit of school spirit in the form of black and red. “I see you lost rock, paper, scissors, Ln.”

You scowled. Of course he knew how you ended up here. After all, he was subjected to it whenever he hung out with your group of friends. “Do you wanna take over my share of the bill, Jung?”

“Do I get something in return?”

“I don't know, your jacket?”

He grinned. “Oh, so you weren't planning on just giving it back to me?”

“I will gladly keep it if you don't want it. She's in the dryer right now,” you shot back. At some point, your heart had kicked up in your chest again, perhaps at the proximity of Wooyoung to you. There wasn't much space in here as it was.

The line scooted up about two centimeters, and Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You’re washing it after wearing it once? Or maybe you've been wearing it for the past twelve hours and you're just not telling me.”

You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck. “It's called being courteous.”

“It's called wasting water,” he teased, the elbow on your shoulder shifting to an arm slung around both of your shoulders.

“Oh please. It's being washed with the rest of my clothes!” You exclaimed in your defense as you grew more flustered.

Something giddy lit up on his face as the group of you moved up closer to the register. “So that jacket's gonna smell like you? I might not ever wash it again, Ln.”

It was an unholy amount of time later that you, your friends, and the frat trio finally made it out of the stuffy fast food restaurant with your massive order. Instead of a picnic bench, however, it seemed that both your friends and Wooyoung's were exiled to the curb by the street. The sight was rather laughable—around fifteen or so people seated on the firelane like a line of abandoned ducklings.

Everyone practically swarmed the to-go bags that you and your friends deposited in the grass. You picked up one of the cartons of fries for yourself, standing just outside the circle that had formed.

Mingi was recalling one of the plays from tonight's game with vivid acting when you heard your name being called from down the road.

Curious, your eyes tracked the sound, only to see a group of fraternity guys making their way towards you from the direction of Greek Row. Among them, it was Mark Lee that you recognized first in a red bomber jacket and backwards cap. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkled like a pair of diamond earrings.

“YN LN! IS THAT YOU?” He giggled, and you just knew that the poor guy was drunk off his face.

One of his friends with a bunny-looking face grappled onto his arm with a groan. “Sorry! He was double-dared to take one too many shots by this bastard,” he said when they neared and cut a glare to one of the tall boys behind him. Said tall boy whistled, pretending not to hear him.

Yunho cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud holler. “Aye, N-City! Jungwoo, where the hell have you been, man?"

“It’s called the engineering program, bro,” the one you assumed to be Jungwoo grumbled. He hobbled over to where Yunho was seated in the circle and knocked his fist against the latter's. “Oh my god, can I steal a fry? That line over there looks awful.”

Mingi lifted his tray of fries up for Jungwoo to pluck a few.

Mark, with the supervision of his bunny friend, scuttled over toward you. “Fries sound so good, dude. Like bro. BRO. I am so hungry.” He giggled again as you extended your fries out to him in amusement. “Thanks, Yn. Do I still owe you for coffee that one time?” He slurred, shoving the slices of potato into his mouth.

You chuckled, offering his friend some fries, but was quietly rejected. “Coffee? That was like, once, Mark. Don't worry about it.”

“I know, but like—like, I keep thinking about it, y'know,” he confessed. In the streetlight, you could see his cherry red cheekbones… almost the color of Wooyoung's glas—what. Where did that thought come from?

Absent-mindedly, your eyes flickered across the circle to where you knew Wooyoung was seated with his brothers. To your surprise, you found him already staring your way.

“—it’d be cool to get coffee again sometime, and be friends! I almost took the next econ class in the series 'cause of you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, forcing yourself back to the people in front of you and being unable to suppress a giggle. You were touched by the sentiment, and frankly, relieved to hear that you and he were pretty much on the same page about being friends. “The next class in the series is kind of ass though, so I'm glad you aren't gonna have to suffer through it.”

“Aw, but we're all in this together!” He chirped.

His friend gave Mark a small pat on his arm. “We should get a move on before the crowds get worse.”

Mark's eyes widened and he gasped. “You're right, hyung!”

“See you, guys,” you said with a small wave. The two boys threw a similarly warm goodbye to you as they slipped past you and toward the jam-packed fast food joint you had braved just earlier.

Across the wide social circle, Wooyoung couldn't hear exactly what yours and Mark's conversation entailed because of all the chatter. Sue him for being caught staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off you, as per usual. There was a familiar pang in his chest as he watched you bid Mark and Doyoung from the NCT fraternity goodbye, and he mindlessly finished off the tray of fries in front of him.

Although you technically implied to him last night that there was nothing between you and Mark, there was undoubtedly a part of him that still felt jittery at the thought.

There was a nudge against his arm. “Glare even harder, and Mark might wake up with a pair of holes in the back of his head.”

Wooyoung moved his scowl to San beside him, a snicker falling from his best friend's mouth. “I'm not glaring,” Wooyoung protested and reached for a napkin in the middle of the circle.

“Oh, right,” San drawled, “you're staring at Yn.”

“Yes, and?” He shot back. “What'd'you think they were talking about?” He could practically hear the sound of your giggles in his ears after Mark said something. Wooyoung didn't like the way that made his stomach churn—the fact that this other guy was making you laugh. Did he make you laugh like that? Did you look that radiant when you were with him? God, why did you have to be so gobsmackingly gorgeou—

San considered him for a moment as he chewed on the bite of his burger. “Why don't you ask her yourself?” He muttered with a vague gesture of his aioli-covered fingers, “I dunno, go offer to drive her home or something.”

“That's the first good idea I've heard all night.” Wooyoung hopped to his feet, a misshapen plan (of sorts) manifesting in his head. Hopefully it would work out better than the movie night one. (But by some metrics, he could consider movie night a success…)

San exhaled under his breath as his friend went to go find a trash can first. “Can't believe he actually went with that,” he said with a shake of his head. He could only hope now that his friend would finally put himself out of his misery.

Having finished your post-game snack, drowsiness was slowly seeping into your joints and the corners of your eyes. It was bound to be nearing midnight at this time, and with all of the excitement within the past two days, you were about ready to head back.

You swept your eyes over the group to gauge if any of your other friends looked about ready to go home, too, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Can I give you a lift home?” Wooyoung asked as he stood there, cap and glasses hanging from his hand while the other carded through his hair.

Well. “It's like you read my mind, Jung,” you mused. “Do you and your brothers not usually carpool though?”

“Eh, Hongjoong hyung brought the minivan.”

You didn't know why that comment made you laugh—perhaps it was the image of a bunch of ATZ frat members shoved into a soccer mom minivan with Hongjoong at its helm—but a laugh most definitely tumbled from your lips. The sound and sight reflected in Wooyoung's expression, a boyish grin coming to his face and reaching his eyes. “Alright, fine. As long as by taking me home, you aren't abandoning them on the streets.”

The two of you began walking side by side to where he would lead you back toward wherever his car was parked. “Nah,” he reassured you with a shake of his head. He took his cherry heart glasses and slid them up into his hair. “A nice walk home might keep them humble, y'know?”

“And who's to say you don't need humbling, Jung?” You joked.

A smirk curled up on his mouth like a cat's tail. “What? Are you going to humble me, Ln?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug to cover up the rapid pulse hammering away in your veins. “I could finesse your keys, you never know.”

He motioned to the left where his sedan was parked along the side of the street. “I'll have you know that you already have one of my keys,” he said as he rounded his car to reach the driver's seat.

You crinkled your brows together, your hand lingering on the door to the passenger's seat as he fished his keys out to unlock the car. “What key?”

“The key to my heart,” he winked, smile widening.

You glanced away, tongue jamming into your cheek to suppress your flustered smile, but by the sounds of Wooyoung's glee from the other side of the car, you were unsuccessful. “You tell that to all the girls?” You finally said when the car chirped and you slipped into the passenger's seat.

Your car doors slammed in tandem.

“Nope, that one's just for you,” he said, tossing his hat in the back and starting the engine.

The fluttery feeling in your chest was making it difficult for you to sit still. If you were so enraptured by his scent clinging to the fabric of his jacket, then his car must have been level two. Your body melted into the car seat, and you turned your head to watch the world pass through the window with a content expression on your face.

There had been something gnawing at you for a while now. You knew Wooyoung boasted a rather flirty personality; he had always been pretty outgoing and teasing ever since you met. There were so many signs that pointed to him liking you more than just a friend, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions. (Denial? What was that?)

Was this different from when Yeonjun suggested that Mark liked you? Well, yes. This was different because you… it was different because this was Wooyoung, not Mark. It was different because you were suddenly marinating on the idea of him liking you, and not dismissing it like you had with Mark.

You were growing giddy at the idea, in fact. And maybe that made you nervous.

A thought appeared in your head. “Oh, I guess it's a good thing you're taking me home, because now I can give you back your jacket.” For a moment, you deeply considered casually “forgetting” to return the garment, but your integrity won out.

You saw him glance over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Right, right. Good idea,” he murmured. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip then. “Hey, uhm, weird question.”

“Uh oh,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Yah, it's not an 'uh oh!’ I was just wondering what Mark came to talk to you about.”

Oh. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when he said he had a weird question.

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second. “You seem awfully interested in me and Mark,” you drawled, uncertain of where this was going.

“I mean—I know you said last night that you guys aren't that close,” he supplemented, tongue swiping over his lip as he turned the corner onto your street, “but he seemed pretty friendly tonight.”

“Mark’s always friendly,” you pointed out. Part of it was just so you could prod a little and figure out why Wooyoung was pursuing this.

“You're not wrong.”

Your head tilted to the side. “So?”

“So?”

You let out a small laugh. “Hey, Jung, what's going on? You're usually not so antsy about these things, especially not with me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and your fingers drummed mindlessly against your thigh in anticipation.

Wooyoung glanced over at you again, his lips pressing together. He was entering your apartment complex street now and carefully pulled up along the curb outside. “I would argue that it's the complete opposite.”

“Huh?”

“You can't possibly think that this whole time I haven't been head over heels for you?” He blurted.

Even if the car had stopped, your heart rate most definitely hadn't.

At your loss for words, he killed the engine. “Like, you think I stare at you for fun? No, actually, I stare at you because I'm literally just so attracted to you, it's survival.”

You sucked in a breath. “Jung…”

“And you know, I try to be as obvious as I can, but maybe I'm not? And I'm—I’m trying to be as loud about my feelings as possible,” he continued on, adding in an accompaniment of sweeping hand gestures. “Without actually admitting to my feelings, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Jung. Jung, wait—”

“This wasn't supposed to turn into a ramble, but what I'm trying to say is—”

“Wooyoung.”

He screeched to a halt, eyes widened as if you'd just grown two heads.

Oh, you were so endeared by this man. In this snapshot of time, there was nothing other than utter adoration in your heart for him. “You were probably being very loud, but I'm also hard of hearing sometimes.”

“Extremely,” he agreed with his mouth pressed into a line.

“Hey!”

He broke into a grin that was soft at the corners and tender at the eyes. “Just so you know, I don't treat anyone else like you. You're probably the only person I will ever address by their last name as a term of endearment.”

You laughed, skin warming to the touch. “I'll admit—same here.” A jolt of electricity warmed down your spine at the admission.

“I can't persuade you to even try a 'honey’ or a ‘baby?’ Not even a 'sweetie pie?’”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe you'll unlock some of them as time goes on. It has to feel right.”

He leaned forward onto the center console, a small, happy sigh falling from his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I can deal with that.”

In reply, you twisted around in your seat to face him, your head leaned against the car seat. “Just so we're clear though…”

“I like you—I do.”

“Good.” Your lips curled into a smile. “I like you, too.”

In the low light of the car, the sky darkened and the only light coming from the streetlight a few cars away, you and Wooyoung shared a soft moment together. The thing that had been needling at the back of your mind was finally subsiding.

Swallowing, you reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his eyes seemed to shudder. “Yeonjun once called you my lover boy.”

“I'm pretty sure all of our friends knew how I felt,” he snorted.

You made a small gesture with your shoulder, wincing. “Except for me?”

“Except for you,” he sighed jokingly. “Utter pain. But you know what?”

“What's that?”

“I think I like being your lover boy.”

You slowly nodded. “It has a nice ring to it.” You couldn't help another smile as you rolled it over and over in your mind. Your lover boy, your lover boy, your lover boy… “My lover boy.”

Wooyoung pressed his palms together like he was praying, his hands touching his lips. “Give me the strength—I can't not kiss you after hearing that come out of your mouth.”

Your heart gave an aggressive palpitation. “Well… I wouldn't be opposed.”

“Hey, lover girl,” he said, mouth split open with a pretty grin, “can I kiss you?”

How could you refuse?

He leaned forward and cradled one side of your face with one hand so he could press his lips against your own. If there was any doubt left in your mind about how you felt for him, it was all dashed away once he kissed you.

When your eyes fluttered open, you met his gaze.

“I think,” he murmured, thumb drawing over your bottom lip, “I just fell for you all over again.

God, how could you compete with that line? You ducked your head, unabashedly flustered. He only cooed at your reaction and came forward to smack a long kiss to your cheek.

When it was determined that you would finally head up to your apartment for the evening, you reluctantly clambered out of his vehicle. He rolled down his window so he could drape himself out of it like a damsel in a tower, his eyes shaped like hearts.

“Is it safe to say that I can keep your jacket?” You jested, stopping in front of his window.

He huffed a laugh. “You know, I thought you'd never ask. But you'll have to trade me for something of yours.”

“Deal, Jung.” You were certain you could think of something.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed <3

atz m.list

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[moonstruckme]

James Potter x Reader where reader is in a different house (Hufflepuff if you don’t mind) and she ends up on the receiving end of one of their pranks which makes her angry so she avoids James and the other marauders, forcing him to grovel/beg for forgiveness? Thank you so much xoxo

Hi, thanks for your request! This got a bit long haha, but I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading :)

cw: mentions of blood

James Potter x Hufflepuff!reader ♡ 1.8k words

Though no one tells him it’s happening, Remus sees the prank coming from a mile away.

Primarily, this is because James and Sirius appear to be playing an entirely ordinary game of frisbee. Just tossing it back and forth, no hexes or nifflers or anything. A simple pastime between two boys on a lovely warm afternoon. 

Secondly, they haven’t asked Remus to join them. While they know from experience he’s content to read his book in the grass, they always make a point to ask just to be sure Remus doesn’t feel excluded. The fact that they haven’t suggests that they’re well aware that whatever they’re up to, Remus will want no part in it. 

Lastly and most importantly, James Potter has the worst poker face Remus has ever known. 

When the curly-haired boy slyly drops the frisbee they’ve been using into his bag, trading it for another, he can hardly keep the giddiness from his face. Which is probably why, when he tosses it well away from his companion and towards a crowd of gathered students, Sirius is the one who has to say, with theatrical volume and distress, “Merlin, can somebody grab that?”

Remus watches warily as several students turn to track the progress of the disk as it sails overhead, and after a moment one breaks away, chasing after it. Remus feels a pang of sympathy for you, your yellow and black scarf flying behind you as you run, needing no further evidence than the eager look in James’ eyes to know that you’ve fallen for a trap. 

You jump up to grab it out of the air, beaming in triumph for a moment before a yelp escapes you. You fling your catch to the ground, cradling your hand as the fanged frisbee twitches and snarls at your feet. 

“Shit,” he hears Sirius breathe, and the excitement is gone from his and James’ expressions as they jog over to you, Remus standing to follow them. 

You pick your head up as they approach, eyes wet but fierce. 

“What the hell?” you snarl, and Remus realizes with a stab of concern that there’s a small puddle of blood forming in your palm. “You’ve begun targeting your stupid pranks at anyone who’s dumb enough to help you now? How’s that funny?”

Remus looks at his friends in bewilderment, aggrieved on your behalf but unable to believe they’d do something so cruel. The fanged frisbee—a cheap trick, which really should be banned in Remus’ opinion—twitches closer to your ankle, and Sirius flicks his wand at it, its teeth retracting as it goes silent and motionless. 

“We…I charmed it so its teeth would be dull and harmless.” James scrubs a hand through his hair, at a loss. “It was only supposed to scare you, not hurt you.” 

You shake your head at him disbelievingly and bite your lip, face reddening as the pain sets in. James steps closer to you, blocking you from view of the small crowd of gawking students, none of whom, Remus notes with some bitterness, have come to help you or see if you’re okay. 

“I’m really sorry,” James says softly. “Let me help.” But when he reaches for your hand, you step back, holding it close to your chest. 

“Just leave me out of your fun in the future, yeah?” you hiss, stalking inside. 

James looks pained as he watches you go, and though Remus doesn’t begrudge you your justified anger, he feels for his good-natured friend. It had been an honest mistake, though the cost turned out to be far higher than either of his friends had expected. But knowing James, he’ll find some way to make it right. 

“Sorry, mate. They can’t all be winners.” Sirius claps him on the back, and Remus knows his light tone is more to make James feel better than it is true carelessness. Sirius is loyal that way; he’d probably lock you in a broom closet rather than have you upset James again. 

“It wasn’t meant to hurt anyone,” James says quietly.

Sirius’ smile is unfaltering, though Remus spies the worry in his eyes. “She’ll get over it. C’mon, there’s still time to go into Hogsmeade if we hurry.” 

And though Remus hopes you’ll feel better soon, he knows it will take James a long time to get over it himself. 

James shuffles from foot to foot, feeling silly and anxious as he waits for someone to leave the Hufflepuff dorms so he can go inside. He’s fairly sure you’re supposed to have potions together, but you hadn’t shown up to class, and though James had kept an eye out all day in the hallways, he’d never spotted you. He’d thought he’d caught a glimpse of you in the great hall during lunch, but you’d darted out of sight before he could be sure, and then there’d been no sign of you at dinner. Luckily, it had only taken a quick consultation of the map he shared with his friends to find out that you’d holed up in the Hufflepuff common room, so here he was, draped in his invisibility cloak and fidgeting like a nervous date at your front door. 

The door creaks open, and James slips in before it can shut, the exiting Hufflepuff shivering slightly at the breeze he makes whisking by them. It’s not difficult to spot you where you’re sitting painting your nails, lips pursed just slightly in concentration. The common room is mostly empty as other students enjoy the nice weather outside, and James is grateful for the privacy as he takes off the cloak and goes to sit beside your feet where they’re stretched out on the couch. 

You look up at the intrusion and startle to find James, pulling your feet closer to you reflexively. He hopes it’s an instinct to make room for him and not to protect yourself from him, though given recent events he could hardly blame you for the latter. 

“What’re you—how did you get in here?” you ask, eyes darting between James and the door in bafflement. 

Never mind that. “You weren’t at dinner,” James says, holding out his small stolen dish of chicken curry, “so I thought you might be hungry. Sorry, it’s barely warm now.” 

You take it from him suspiciously, careful of your wet nails, and James feels a stab of guilt at the sight of your bandaged hand. 

“I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he goes on, throat burning with shame. “I know I’ve already said it, but it was supposed to be harmless. I wasn’t careful enough.” 

You don’t look at him, not rejecting his apology but not quite accepting it either. “Pomphrey fixed it good as new anyways, so we can just say it never happened.”

James appreciates the attempt to ease his conscience, but your kindness only makes him feel that much more villainous. This would be so simple if you were one of those pureblood gits, or even just a bit ruder, but you’re you, and that’s so much worse. 

“Can I see it?” he asks softly, and you hesitate only a moment before scooting a bit closer and extending your hand to him, palm up. 

James unwraps the bandage with care, keeping one eye on your face to ensure he’s not hurting you, and so he notices the faint blush that colors your cheeks as he cradles your hand in his. The last layer of your dressing falls away, revealing three tiny white scars. Though they’re healed over, he hisses in sympathy, drawing your hand further towards him protectively but forgetting you’re attached to it. 

Your inhale is soft as you lean forward awkwardly, and James huffs a laugh at his enduring idiocy. “Sorry, love,” he says, letting you lean back. He doesn’t let go of your hand, though. “Were they deep?”

You give a one-shouldered shrug, as though it’s nothing to you. James worries you’re putting on a performance of exaggerated blasé for his benefit. “They bled a lot, but a charm sealed them up quickly enough.”

James nods, remembering with sickening clarity the blood that had pooled in your palm and dripped from between your fingers. 

“I’m glad,” James says, and it doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing feels like enough. But he can’t stop himself, even if it’s all inadequate. “I’m really sorry.” 

You sigh, and James knows enough about you to guess that being upset is exhausting you. It isn’t in your nature; you’re someone who always has a kind word for everyone, who he’s seen lend your quill to a student that forgot theirs and offer them an understanding smile when they broke it, who would rather spend all day avoiding James than let him feel the wrath of your grudge. 

Your very warranted grudge, by the way. 

It’s terrible luck that someone as sweet as you was on the receiving end of his mistake. But, as you’d pointed out, that was how the prank was designed, wasn’t it? Though James and Sirius hadn’t thought that part through at the time, the victim was always going to be whoever stepped forward to help. Normally it might not matter, but they’d gotten so caught up in the excitement of trying out their new toy that James had somehow gotten the spell wrong. And as a result, you’d been forced to pay a price for your kindness and his incompetence. 

“It’s okay,” you say.  

“It’s not,” James insists. “And I can’t fix it, but let me do something else. I can do your potions’ homework for the rest of the year, I can give you my dessert every night, I can…I can sneak into Hogsmeade and bring you whatever you want, anytime you ask, I can…what?”

You’re smiling at him, and it’s familiarly lovely but, James can’t help but think, entirely undeserved. 

“I don’t need any favors from you, James,” you say, and he realizes it’s the first time you’ve said his name. It’s not a long name, but somehow your voice gives it a cadence he quite likes. “Just be more careful, okay? I ended up fine, but next time someone might not.” 

“There won’t be a next time,” he promises swiftly, and means it. “But sweetheart—” if he notices how you soften at the endearment, he doesn’t mention it “—you’ve gotta let me make it up to you somehow.”

You sigh again, though it’s lighter this time, seemingly both exasperated and amused by his persistence. After a moment spent within your own head, you ask, “Could you help me study for the potions exam next week?”

“Yes!” James grins eagerly. “Of course. That’s a start. How’s tomorrow after class? I’ll bring study snacks as well, and we can make it a regular thing, if you like.” 

He’d like to make it a regular thing, debt or not. 

You smile. “Tomorrow is perfect. And can I call in another favor right now?”

If James weren’t sitting, he’d buckle at the knees in relief. “Yes. I’m at your service.”

“Can you tell me how you got into the Hufflepuff common room?”

“That,” he says smoothly, “is just one in my arsenal of skills now at your disposal.”

[irisintheafterglow]

coparenting!megumi with satoru where one of you gets lost after school supply shopping it's not the actual child that gets lost

"megs, where's satoru?"

"i thought he was with you."

"that's a problem, then, because he hasn't been with me for the past ten minutes." you plop down next to him, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head and taking in the busy park in front of you. the weather was comfortable today, cool enough that you weren't sweating but warm enough to have megumi's ice cream dripping down the cone toward his little fingers. you wordlessly hand him a napkin and he takes it without looking at you, continuing to observe the people throwing around a frisbee or having a picnic in the sunshine. there was a playground on the other side of the field and you could vaguely make out the blurry forms of children running about. "you can go play, if you want. i can stay and watch the stuff."

"i don't really want to," he replies. "i like sitting here with you." the corner of your mouth turns up into a smile. he was barely big enough for his legs to touch the ground and he absentmindedly kicked his feet back and forth under the bench. "do we need to go anywhere else today?"

"i don't think so, no. i think we got everything that you'll need for next week." he nods in assent and the toes of his shoes brush against the plastic grocery bags holding his new school supplies.

you could tell megumi was excited, in his own quiet way, when the car pulled into the parking lot of the store. as much as he acted as the bane of satoru's existence, you knew he liked spending time with both of you. you stopped satoru with a gentle hand on his shoulder when his lanky legs ran for a cart, gesturing toward megumi heading down the first aisle, basket in hand. you barely had to do anything for most of the trip; at most, you'd remind the boy of a specific type of pencil or notebook he needed and provide feedback if he was split between two different designs. any additions by satoru were pointedly ignored by the boy unless they were reiterated by you. "if you need anything else, just let satoru know and he'll bring it to your school."

"you can't drop it off instead?"

"i know i usually do, but i have an assignment that's sending me out of town. you'll have to make do with your esteemed mentor for a bit." you smirk and nudge his shoulder with your elbow, chuckling softly when he frowns. it was a little funny, seeing a child have the expression of a businessman desperately waiting for retirement. "what is it, megs?"

"he scares all my teachers." you choke on the sip you take from your bottle, jolting forward and laugh-coughing your way to normal breathing again. it didn't surprise you, what megumi said; it was the incredibly straightforward, slightly amused note in his voice that had water going down the wrong pipes. "i'm serious. whenever you're visiting, people always gush about how well you take care of me."

"and when satoru comes around?"

"they hide." a prideful noise escapes your throat and the two of you have identical smirks as you sit on the bench. your eyes carefreely scan the field for any bright white hair or screams of commotion that could indicate your boyfriend's presence, but there are no such things. nonetheless, you're not worried. he always found his way back to you somehow.

at least, that's what you think.

you feel the telltale buzz-buzz-buzz of your phone in your back pocket and roll your eyes when you see the caller id.

"hello?"

"i'm lost."

"mmm, poor baby," you deadpan, glancing at megumi to see a small smile on his face.

"aren't you going to come find me?" his voice is teasingly playful, implying that he disappeared on purpose just for the hell of it.

"i'm not playing hide and seek with you, satoru. just come back to the ice cream cart."

"but it's so much more fun if you come get me instead," he argues, his voice slightly too insistent for you to think that he's joking. he better be kidding.

"satoru."

"okay, fine. i actually don't know where the hell i am." he is not kidding.

you sigh, standing and taking megumi's hand. "just retrace your steps, sweetheart." you stand and walk a random direction in hopes that your navigationally-challenged boyfriend would find his way to you. the plastic handle of the store bag digs into the crook of your elbow as you continue to hold the phone up to your ear. "can you describe your surroundings?"

"uh, trees."

"those are everywhere, satoru. we're in a park." you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips towards the tail end of your sentence. the irony of the most powerful human on earth being lost in a park was priceless. "any specific monuments or something that i can head to?"

"there's a big field-"

"again, baby, this is a park. look, i'm just gonna do the thing. if you can't find us from that, you might need to rethink your career choice." megumi stifles a snicker from next to you and you abruptly hang up, cutting off the distorted protests blaring from your phone. you have a seat on the grass and megumi mirrors your position, taking your hand when you offer it to him. "just like we practiced, okay?" he sighs impatiently, but you knew it wasn't you he was irritated with. "alright, i'll go first and then you add on to me, yeah?"

stretching your neck from side to side, you close your eyes and slowly channel more cursed energy until it engulfs your entire body. soon, you feel megumi's faint but determined aura bump against yours. after less than a minute, instinct tells you that satoru received your beacon and you look over your shoulder to see him strolling casually across the lawn. he's tall enough that, when he finally stands above you and megumi, he blocks out most of the sun. you can barely see his eyes, but you know he can see the exasperation on your face. he merely beams at you like you produced the oxygen he was breathing.

"found you."

"took you long enough." he effortlessly pulls you up from the ground and you stumble, nearly slamming into his chest. "where did you end up going, anyway?"

"there's an old daycare center towards the back of the park. sensed something there and wanted to kill it before it bothered us," he explains, humming when you brush your fingers over the fabric covering his eyes. he delicately takes your hand and presses light kisses to your knuckles, so dotingly you'd think either of you had just come back from war. you're about to kiss him properly when a small voice clears its throat some ways below you. your face heats, suddenly remembering megumi is still there.

"are we ready to go, or should i give you two a few minutes?" satoru's jaw drops in indignancy.

"watch it, megs, or i'm gonna have satoru be the one dropping off all of your things during the school year." your hand ruffles the black spikes of his hair and he pouts.

"please don't."

"wait, what's wrong with me bringing your things?" megumi exhales tiredly like he'd clocked out of his 9-5 and walks ahead to the parking lot. you and satoru lag behind, his arm wrapped around your waist and matching his steps with yours.

"i'll explain in the car. will you be able to find it okay, lost child?" you raise your eyebrows patronizingly, putting on your best doe-eyed gaze. he scoffs, but you're not done making fun of him just yet. "whatever shall i do if you were to suddenly disappear? i may be forced to find another...suitor." you bat your eyelashes dramatically and you can see his eyes rolling behind his blindfold.

"ha, ha. very funny." his hands ever so slightly squeeze the flesh around your hip and you jump. "now i know how it feels when i start reciting shakespeare over minor inconveniences." you laugh and melt a little when his thumb draws apologetic little circles on your waist. god, he's so in love with you.

"i'm surprised you didn't start monologuing on the phone. it worried me."

"you don't ever need to worry about finding me because i'll always come back."

"you promise?"

"on the moon and the stars."

prompt is from @youneedsomeprompts because coparenting megumi inspiration comes and goes from my mind like an endangered species :))

hope you enjoyed ! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3

[issuesntissues]

141 if they were dogs

and you can headcanon whatever breed, but this is just how their behavior would be to me :>

Price

the tail never wags

he is stoic, your standard guard dog

he basically lives for his duty, and then mopes on the floor

he doesn’t give any bite warnings, if you’re messing with him he’ll bite—

if he’s sleeping, leave him alone 😬

definitely not a family dog, but a good dog for loners or people who don’t have a lot in life

he loves raw steaks. if he is not fed raw steaks he will be grumpy

Gaz

Stoic like Price, but a calm approach and a head pat will earn you a small tail wag

a good guard dog for a small family!

he’s always on his feet but when he’s asleep, he’s out like a rock—

has an incredible nose, perfect for sleuthing

knows how to be gentle with small people and animals

definitely sleeps in the kids rooms

loves a variety of raw foods. must pay him the cheese tax

Soap

may god help you

he is hyper, he is built for outdoor activities

absolutely massive appetite, will eat whatever you give him and more (lock down your trash cans, and prepare to push him off counters)

if there’s something he’s not used to, he’ll chase it down immediately—

* always alert and vocal, if anything steps foot within his area of awareness, you’ll hear about it

although he wouldn’t be great in a family household, he gets along well with older kids (or anyone with high energy tbh)

he’s a working dog at the end of the day, and needs high activity daily exercise 🫶

Ghost

unapproachable— keep your hands and fingers to themselves

pure guard dog, and everyone can see it with how many scars he has

he has adequate hearing and smell, but impeccable eyesight

once he’s on the trail of something he won’t ever let it go—

eats nothing but raw meat of any kind (he needs protein 😳)

definitely not for any average dog owner, he’s handled by scary individuals

!! BONUS !!

König

a big dog, but he’s skittish—

was meant to be a guard dog, but got kicked out of service for being a big silly

has poor spacial awareness but an amazing nose

drools when he sleeps

if you have food, he’ll invade your space and take it (like a cow. look up a cow stealing food—)

definitely isn’t afraid to bite intruders (will mow them down and maul them if he wants to—)

💯 safe with kids of all ages (just make sure you have enough food, eats enough to fill 3 teenage boys. could eat a small human—)

Riptide

the most domesticated and least aggressive in the entire list tbh

love swimming, if he’s near any puddle or pool he’s diving right in—

excels at fetch, especially with frisbees

is the gentlest with kids, you can leave them alone with him—

has intimidating barks but they’re never aggressive, he’s mostly quiet—

loves the beach, gets all sandy and smelly ✨

has a good balance between guard dog, and family dog 💚

Keegan

you know outside cats? well he’s like that, only a dog—

comes back for food or if he’s injured/really dirty

he always stays near your home / around your neighborhood at night (he got a lil of that guard dog in him)

very quiet, never barks or whines, but if he’s fighting he’ll sound like a monster—

hunts rats for fun (doesn’t eat them though)

he would not be happy if someone took him off the street, he’s happy with his life style

[starhvney]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: garroth, laurance, dante, travis, zane, vylad, blaze, daniel, dottie, katelyn, lucinda, nana, & cadenza

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, slice of life, headcanons on the characters on a beach vacation!

𝐂𝐖: none!

𝐀/𝐍: justice for not including the zvahl siblings during love love paradise or starlight in mys, rip you guys would’ve loved a beach vacation. anyways it’s summer guys! i’m not even a huge fan of summertime but i kind want to go to the beach?? so weird cause i’m totally a zane when i’m at the beach

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

☆ if it’s a surfable beach, he’s going straight out to the waves

☆ i mean, look at him, he looks like the classic surfer boy from the 2000s

☆ gets really excited if you surf too or want him to teach you

☆ he comes back to slam down some sandwiches before he tries to run back out. you have to pull him back and restrain him to put on more sunscreen and let his food digest.

☆ he always wants to stay or at least come back to watch the sunset over the ocean. it’s the best part!

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

☆ also goes out to surf with garroth, but he’s not as good so he comes back to shore sooner than garroth does

☆ he’s the guy you go to for getting good beach pics, he just has that good artistic eye

☆ he actually prefers going out to the beach in the evening/at night, loves shell hunting and walking along the boardwalk when everyone is quietly fishing or minding their business. plus the weather is cool! he loves how peaceful it is.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄

☆ this freakin goober 

☆ bro will purposefully let the ball out frisbee fall into the direction of groups of people he wants to talk or flirt with because so he can have an excuse to strike up a conversation

☆ when he gets bored he will be nagging everyone to go eat at the seafood restaurant “it’s like a five minute walk from here and i’m hungry guys, come on!”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

☆ professional swimmer here! well, not really, but he was really good at it in highschool! he competed and everything. someone always has to swim out and yell at him to not go out too far, cause he’s always trying to swim out to the third sandbar by himself

☆ comes back and his face and shoulders/back are always more tan because the sunscreen wore off and he was swimming all the time. (not the pale leg combo, is this just as bad as a farmer’s tan?)

☆ comes back starved from using all of his energy swimming and trying not to drift away from where you guys are on shore, ends upp eating too many sandwiches and everyone gets mad at him cause there aren’t enough

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄

☆ lathers himself in lotion and sunscreen and is either staying under the umbrella or dunking himself into the water

☆ he’s really not a fan of the beach, he’d rather vacation in the mountains or something like that, but he still goes since everyone else is going

☆ he just hates the humidity, the texture of the sand, and the stickiness of the salt water. it’s just not his thing

☆ he keeps how miserable he is to himself, but the silly little grumpy pout on his face says everything

☆ like someone get him a drink with a lil spike to it please the poor boy looks like he’s on the verge of death

☆ he’ll enjoy himself a lot more if you give him a sweet treat or if everyone goes to the pool after (except for the…incident)

𝐕𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐃

☆ so chill. he’s such a great guy to lounge with

☆ brings a book to read or a sketchbook, loves to sketch the different kinds of people on the beach and what they’re doing. (major people watcher)

☆ something about everyone else being busy and him being there so calm makes it so easy to get into a deep conversation with him, you two could talk for hours and not even realize the time has passed

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄

☆ oh my gosh

☆ he’s all over the place

☆ wants to build a sandcastle! no, wait, that’s too boring! wants to play frisbee! dang it, he threw it too hard and now he’s running through the ocean like a madman trying to get it back from the waves! shell hunting? nah, he’s gonna race that person’s dog down the shoreline cause it barked at him so now he has to show him who’s boss!

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 

☆ sandcastle building king

☆ spends the whole time dedicated to building the most extravagant castle, hauls a huge bucket of the sand molders and starts digging a moat immediately

☆ someone has to come regularly just spray him down with sunscreen cause he’ll forget the world around him and most definitely get burnt

☆ you might pull him away from building if you offer him a sandwich

☆ eventually you may learn that just bringing an extra umbrella and putting it over where he’s building is the best option

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄

☆ she wants to be at the beach to play, not relax!

☆ beach volleyball? she’s in until there’s no one left to compete with! (her and katelyn could compete against each other for hours) frisbee? heck yeah, she wants to play frisbee!

☆ she loves going to those outdoor showers to wash off all the sand, then is so excited and looking forward to the crazy good nap she’s going to have back at the hotel/condo/rent house. won’t wake up until everyone decides to go eat at a restaurant for dinner

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍

☆ if you can’t find any sunscreen, you can without a doubt go to her and she will have some

☆ gets super competitive with beach volleyball

☆ if no one wants to play volleyball anymore she ventures out into the ocean and doesn’t return until it’s time to leave

☆ if you’re not scared of going out too far in the ocean, she will go out with you to where you can reach the bottom and calmly jump over the larger waves. she could do it all day

☆ she’s another person you have a good bonding talk with while chilling out in the ocean, she opens up to you and you learn stuff you had no idea she had even experienced before

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀

☆ opposite of katelyn, has hawaiian tropic tanning oil on her at all times

☆ doesn’t go into the ocean unless she’s ready to go straight to shower off. can’t stand the sticky feeling of salt water and then going back into the sand

☆ is the one who brings the speaker, and she has such a good beach playlist

☆ sunbathes and sips on a drink the whole time, queen really enjoys herself

☆ she goes to whatever nearby beach bar there is to order the drinks that come in pineapples or coconuts and has the umbrellas in them for everyone

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀

☆ packs an entire picnic for the beach

☆ like, legit carries a full icebox with a selection of drinks and a bag full of sandwiches, chips, sweets, etc. 

☆ is obsessed with seashell hunting! she gets so excited when she finds large or colorful ones. she runs to everyone when she finds a conch shell telling them to listen to the ocean inside of it. brings home a small collection every time and has a box full of (mostly pink) seashells in her room.

𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐀

☆ has so many swimsuits and outfits planned

☆ if yours gets dirty or messed up she drags you to her suitcase to choose from like ten different pairs and combinations you can mix and match.

☆ makes handmade jewelry from different trinkets and shells she finds, she goes hunting for potential charms with nana

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamics, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bang! The impact shakes you so hard you nearly drop your book. You sit up, wide-eyed, and look around. What the heck was that?

You stand and leave the book on the short bench squeezed in along the table. You go to the door and twist the latch. As you open it, dust mists in the air and the scent of smoke singes your nose. You step onto even ground and search for the disturbance.

You turn to face the trailer and the black cloud pluming up from behind it. The entire thing lurches as an electronic whir and zap cuts through the air. You dodge put of the way as the window bursts and shatters over you.

You scramble back on your heels, shielding yourself behind an arm, and cry out. Your neighbours cluster before their own homes and watch, caught in awe as the trailer shakes on its foundation. The wall burst open as a dark shape crashes through and lands in the patchy grass behind you.

You turn to stare down at the mangled metal. Broken tubes drip neon blue fluid and the lights flicker and die. Whatever it is, it's useless now. Just like the wall.

Another crash before you can investigate. Another window rains shards into the dirt and you slap your hands to your head. At least you have witnesses, though you don't know that they have any idea what's going on.

Another tremble before the door swings open. What looks to be a cyborg tramps down the stairs and dusts itself off. You grimace helplessly at the red and gold armour.

"Iron man?" A chirpy childish voice quavers from behind you.

No way? As if to bask in the recognition, the mask retracts and reveals a man's face. It is in fact the Tony Stark. He smirks beneath his goatee and winks at the kid.

"Hey, little guy." He shoots a finger gun as he struts over to the kid.

A long, loud groan comes from behind him. You turn back to the trailer as it starts to lean. Oh no!

Time slows as you watch the whole thing fold in on itself. You stumble further back as it sends up another plume of dirt and dusty. In a moment, you're swept away from the wreckage out of the way of a broken board flying in your direction.

Tony Stark, Iron Man, playboy, billionaire, and wrecking ball has his arm around you as he puts you back in your feet. You stare at the ruin of your home

Your entire life.

"Damn, good thing you got out of there," he snickers.

You shrug him off and step forward. "Hey, sweetheart, you're not gonna wanna do that. There's smoke and that means--" As he grabs you again, a crackle sounds and orange flames lick out from beneath the splinters and drywall.

"No!" You cry out. "What the-- the trailer-- you--"

"Relax, sweetheart, you should be thankful you didn't get trapped in all that. Could be a hell of a lot worse."

You wriggle in his grasp, "that's my home! What am I gonna tell me mom?"

"I'll buy you a new one," he rolls his eyes.

"A new one? That's not the point--" you scoff and stomp your foot. You face the heap again. There are things you can't replace and your mom will make sure to mention as much.

“I'll have my people get in touch.” He struts away and toes the mass of metal on the ground. “Gotta call in the big boys.”

He puts his hand to his ear and talks to no one in particular. You can't look away. The flames build and build as you watch it all go up in flame.

You peek over at the man in his red and gold armour. He grins as children crowd around and he signs their comic books and frisbees and action figures. He's all charm and cheer.

He has no worry about the mess he's made. He'll go home to his penthouse and his bank account. He says he'll buy you a new trailer but that's not going to happen overnight.

The police show up, and the fire trucks, then men in black suits. The lot is corded off with yellow tape as you stand listless on the sidelines. You don't know what else to do.

“Oh god! Oh god! What happened?” Your mom blusters up beside you. She's still in her work uniform. You look at her and shrug. You can't even put into words the chaos of the last few hours.

You look around and point just as Iron Man's helmet flips up and he flies off in a flash. You stare after him and drop your arm. You huff.

“I have no idea, mum,” you utter. “No idea.”

She shrieks and flags down an officer, “sir, I want to know what the hell happened to my home! Right now!”

“Ma'am. This is a matter for law enforcement. We're investigating–”

“Investigating!? My trailer is a pile of rubble!” She cries out.

Her shrill hollers fade into a murmur as your gaze zeros in on the ash. This isn't fair. He gets to walk away, well, fly away, and you have to figure all this out.

[pinkeos]

Dad!Sunday Headcanons

Warning/s: None and no mention of reader's gender, whether the kids are adopted or your own is up to you

Notes: our internet is deadge so imma post this real quick from the neighbor's wifi, hopefully it gets fixed soon😭

ena the order told me that sunday is a dad to twin boys, it's real it's legit not clickbait

we all know he likes to have control over things, so it'd be funny to see dad!sunday struggling to control the boys with how rowdy and mischievous they are

like, if he wasn't busy with work, he'd be carefully watching over the kids like a hawk, making sure they don't do anything risky both to themselves and to others around them. please, he'd rather attend a meeting with the boys next to him rather than leave them unattended, trying to ignore the amused looks he was receiving from the other family heads

dad!sunday would consider buying those child harness thingy after that one time the boys were with him in the hotel lobby, he only looked away for a bit and when he turned back to them, they were already running about bothering guests with their shenanigans

when it was you, though, the boys were so behaved he thinks they've been possessed. turns out, they just really love bullying their father

they're so full of energy sometimes that dad!sunday would have trouble keeping up, especially when he's just finished with his duties. he couldn't be any more grateful whenever you'd guard him while he rests so that the boys wouldn't climb over him (they once tried to throw his halo like a frisbee)

as much as they agreed on things, there were still days they couldn't agree on one thing and bickered quite a lot. dad!sunday would have to pull them away from each other lest they throw hands and scold their ears off about their behaviors and that they should love each other because they were family. these scoldings often lasted so long that the boys agreed they wouldn't fight as much or their ears might just actually fall off with how much he talks

all the childish shenanigans aside, dad!sunday is actually very proud of his little boys. they're smart like him, and even displayed a sense of leadership, and they're kind (when they're not feeling like they're invincible that is)

and they love their auntie robin so much, too! whenever she was around, they'd be glued to her side because they seldom see her with her being a touring singer and all. they also love her because she brings them sweets and trinkets from planets she's visited

they're also very protective, like when he's not able to be around you, dad!sunday can always trust the boys to watch over you

dad!sunday is such a family man (no pun intended)

it was one of those days that sunday could relax, with no agenda and nothing to worry about. surrounded by his loving family in the garden as he sipped tea with a smile on his face

the boys weren’t too far away, playing tag with their laughs and giggles echoing in the background as he shared how his days have been with you

while you were conversing with your husband, one of your children tripped and fell face first against the grass. this cut off your conversation as he began to sob while his brother laughed at him

sunday was quick to approach them, getting on one knee to gently help the boy back to his feet, “are you alright? what happened?”

“he fell!” the older one grinned.

“oh there, there.” you cooed, picking up the boy in your arms as he pointed and sobbed about his scrapped knee

sunday turned to his other child with a sigh, “you shouldn't laugh at your brother. he was hurt, wasn't he? you should have helped him up.”

the boy frowned, looking down, “sorry, father…”

sunday shook his head, tenderly holding his boy’s hand in his gloved one, “you shouldn't apologize to me, but to your brother.”

the halovian guided the child to where you were cleaning the other boy’s knee, comforting him. sunday couldn't help how proud and joyful he was as he watched the older twin apologize before they hugged.

“thank you.” he suddenly spoke up as he turned to you, a smile on his face.

“for what?”

he held your hand and kisses the back of it, “for having this family with me.”

before you could reply, two voices interrupted you.

“ew!”

“father is so sappy!”

it took only one look from sunday before the boys scampered off, giggling.

[my-castles-crumbling]

"How did you get up there?"

Based on @pickinglilahs 's prompt

Regulus was mad. Furious, even.

Why?

Because stupid James Potter was growing on him.

He stalked into the courtyard, trying to stop himself from thinking about how yesterday, Potter had worn jeans that had looked just lovely on him, and last week, Potter had smiled at him in a way that made his stomach flop uncomfortable. He tried to stop remembering the way Potter, during the Quidditch Match two weeks ago, had stopped short in the middle of a play to make sure someone on the opposite team was okay when they'd fallen.

Because if he thought about those things, he might actually think about how he didn't hate Potter.

Of course, the world was cruel, and as soon as he exited the castle, a voice yelled out to him.

"Reg! Hey!"

"Wha- Potter! How did you get up there?" he asked desperately, shocked to see a slightly ruffled-looking James Potter on top of the roof of one of the outdoor paths, a grin on his face.

"Magic!" The other boy called, infuriatingly vague, still smiling. "A first year lost a frisbee up here, and it was stuck, couldn't summon it! Had to help!"

Regulus gaped at Potter, at the way he insisted in being so ridiculously kind and good-looking, and turned and stalked away without a response or a goodbye. Obviously, he had a lot more not-thinking to do.

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

seijoh 4 as summer camp employees

hanamaki takahiro is BUILT for this he has fun hair he’s weird he’s engaging his he’s colorful his water bottle is covered in stickers he has sandals on toes Out he is shameless he’s kinda unhinged it so works. he’s a counselor but almost never has a cabin to himself he’s more like a sub if someone else has gets sick or whatever but when he shows up it’s like a celebrity sighting a monumentous occasion. if he’s not needed anywhere else he’s helping out with arts and crafts his favorite artworks are the ones where you can’t tell what the fuck it’s supposed to be. he has lots of string friendship bracelets he knows how to make them but lies whenever someone asks he just gives them one he gatekeeps cuz he thinks it’s funny and teaching is too much work. he tells the most Outrageous ghost stories and is the reason only half of the kids will go in the lake he talks about bigfoot and campers who went missing and the town’s curse he is carrying on legacies he is SO fun.

iwaizumi hajime is the Coolest fucking counselor ever. bandana around his head sleeves cut off of the uniform tshirt (muscle tee now) he has friendship bracelets a beat up watch one anklet his water bottle is on its last leg he has a dinosaur keychain on his backpack he like epitomizes cool guy the kids idolize him. his cabin wins every single camp-wide competition every time like he’s peak athleticism and he’s just like so awesome or whatever it’s contagious. he picks kids up and throws them in the lake and pool if a frisbee gets stuck in a tree he gets it every time he caught a snake once and took it back to the woods everyone wants to sit next to him in the mess hall he can’t build a fire and is mad about it he sleeps like a fucking Rock and snores like a lawnmower and eats enough for 3 people at every meal.

oikawa tooru is a lifeguard. at the pool at the lake he’s always around the water somehow and Everyone has a crush on him. up on his lifeguard chair sunglasses on his skin is all golden whistle around his neck or spinning on his finger his hair somehow always looks good he wears a headband one day and someone literally faints. he teaches swimming and canoeing lessons and is really good at it he almost Never has to save anyone for someone who works by the water you’d think they’d swim a little more. he’s pretty quiet when he’s on duty he takes the job seriously but he’s a fucking motormouth when he’s off that chair he will Not shut up. he sits w the boys at meals running that fucking mouth pisses them off So Bad he blatantly flirts/fights with iwaizumi when the kids aren’t around and Refuses to get into a canoe with him bc it always ends up getting flipped. he’s really good with the younger kids they’re his favorite to work with but he is generally well liked throughout the camp he’s like everyone’s counselor crush and he always eats raisin bran for breakfast.

matsukawa issei is the camp cryptid he works with the older kids who like go backpacking and spend all their time in the woods he emerges looking like he’s been there all his life. he kinda just appears sometimes doing odd jobs taking things to the lost and found feeding the chickens fishing things out of the lake general camp maintenance he materializes out of the trees with a fire extinguisher a neon yellow backpack and a missing camper. he’s often accompanied by the camp dog so there are theories (encouraged by takahiro) that he’s actually a werewolf and that’s why he’s everywhere some people think he is the camp dog issei thinks this is very funny. the only place he’s consistently found is the mess hall at meals otherwise when not wandering or in the forest he can be found hanging out with hiro coming up with new ghost stories playing some sort of sport with hajime or pouring water on tooru’s head wherever he happens to be. issei is the best campfire builder on the property and some of the kids are scared of him he never has his phone can only be contacted by walkie-talkie he is the jack of all trades.