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johnsamericano · 3 years ago

Note

Can do a fic about dilf doyoung is your Father's friend but u have a secret relationship with him them one day he got you preggo so u moved in with him plsssss also put a lot of smut shshshhshsh pls I hope you read this.

Hi there! My requests are currently closed but I can never resist writing dilf!Doyoung so you’re lucky. There's not THAT much smut in this because I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. Hope you like it!

warnings: dirty talking, sex, language, use of the name daddy, spanking, unexpected pregnancy, age gap.

“What’s the meaning of this invitation, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, walking past the front door with a gym bag hanging from your shoulder. “It's not every day you invite me to a private swimming party.”

“Very funny.” He welcomed you with a hug, his warm, naked chest pressed against your covered one. “Jeno’s out with his friends. He won't come back until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? I wanted to be with him.” That response earned you a slap in the ass, hard enough to serve as a warning not to keep testing his patience.

“Get changed. I'll wait for you in the hot tub.”

You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom, quickly yanking off your clothes to replace them with a baby blue bikini. You knew how much he loved the matching set, not as much as taking it off you, of course.

Wanting to make him wait for a while longer, you neatly folded your clothes and placed them over your sleeping wear inside the bag you'd brought with you.

“Took you long enough.” He was sitting inside the water, his arms spread wide as he gave you a less than amused look. “Come here.”

Despite how dominant he might look on the outside, he never managed to fool you. As soon as you were between his arms, your face was guaranteed to be covered with kisses from his soft lips.

“I missed you this past few weeks.” His wet thumb traced figures over your arm, avoiding looking into your eyes. “Why haven't you visited?”

Your fingers played with the small, grey hairs covering the nape of his neck.

“It's getting harder to hide it from Jeno, and I know if he ever found out, our friendship would be over. I don't wanna lose him.”

“He’ll find out, better sooner than later.” The look on your face must've given away your thoughts. “What? Did you think this was just something casual?”

“I mean...” His jaw dropped, arms falling into the water with a splash. “Look, you have to understand me. We started right after your wife left, I thought you were using me to forget her. And I didn't mind-”

“Using you?” Just a few millimeters and his eyebrows would be touching. “Have you always thought so low of me?”

“Doyoung...”

“I want a future with you, y/n. Not just an occasional fuck but an actual relationship, and if you don't feel the same about me, then we might as well end things here.” This was the first time you'd seen him mad, with his whole face red from anger and the warmth of the jacuzzi, he looked as if he were about to explode.

“Of course I do. But it's complicated.” The red shade tinting his cheeks and ears, slowly faded. “No one would accept our relationship, for starters.”

“I couldn't care less about other’s opinions.”

In less than a second, his lips crashed against yours, hard. But there was a hint of sweetness in his wild movements, the way his hands caressed your back while his tongue worked its way inside your mouth aggressively.

“Already so eager?” He asked as your heat rubbed itself against his clothed cock. “Not here.”

“What...?”

The muscles in his legs tensed as he stood up with you still between his arms. He was strong, for a man of his age, of course.

“I’m afraid that I've been fucking you the wrong way, which might have been the reason for you to have the wrong idea about us.” Leaving a trail of water drops behind you, you climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, where his room was located. “Scratch that. No more fucking, from now on, I'm gonna make love to you.”

“Have you always been this cheesy?” Your feet touched the floor as he removed his hands from below your thighs, slightly pushing you until the back of your knees touched the mattress.

“Don’t make me change my mind and spank that pretty ass.”

“Rude.” You let yourself fall on the fresh comforter, dragging him down with you.

“Take your clothes off for me, won't you?” He busied himself pulling down his swimming trunks while you struggled with the knot keeping your bra in place. “Such a silly, little girl. Can't do anything without her daddy, can her?”

“Please.” Even though you hated being humiliated, your core didn't seem to bother. His degrading words only caused your essence to form an even larger patch on your bikini. “Doyoung...”

“Fine.” His cock was standing proudly, his tip dripping with small beads of precum. “On your knees and turn around.”

He worked through the knots as fast as his trembling fingers allowed him to. His mouth was aching to say the special words he'd been keeping to himself for a while now, but he didn't have enough courage yet.

“Ready.” The straps fell down your arms, tickling the skin as they slid.

You took the last piece of your suit off, finally allowing your body to be consumed by the humidity of the summer evening. Doyoung was quicker to enter you than usual. No teasing, just lovemaking as he’d promised earlier.

“You’re so warm.” His lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking to leave a mark big enough for everyone to see. “Your little cunt takes me so well. No one else could make me feel as good as you do.”

With his hips pistoning your hole, your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, dancing over the tender skin. The way you were looking at each other, so intimate and full of affection, had the words he'd been wanting to say rushing out of his lips.

“I love you.” His movements faltered as if waiting for you to give him any type of answer.

“What’s with that scared face?” You giggled, every inch of your skin flushed with embarrassment and desire. “I love you too.” He loved how young you made him feel, like a silly teenager confessing to his crush only to find out his feelings were reciprocated.

His thrusts resumed, this time slower, deeper, making sure you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock. His length caressed your walls oh so deliciously, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Until someone had to ruin it.

“Dad, where are you?” In a rush, Doyoung pulled out, not even noticing how his seed spilled out of your hole. Fear had taken over the pleasure.

“Get in the bathroom, he probably just forgot something. Don't worry.”

As he'd said, Jeno was quick to leave. Not even ten minutes later, Doyoung was back in his room, announcing Jeno’s little getaway got extended.

“So that means, you can stay for a while longer. Only if you want of course.” The bathtub was filling with warm water and bubbles he'd added. “Or we can go on our own trip, whatever you want.” You felt at ease between his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Who would've thought you'd be losing your mind a few weeks later because of the same man that had given you so much peace before.

“How could you forget to wear protection?!”

“Don't treat me as if I were the only one responsible for this situation.” You hid your face between the warmth of your palms, supporting the side of your head against the window. “Look at me, baby.”

You shook your head, tears starting to slip between your fingers.

“I’m here for you, darling. Whatever you want to do, I'll fully support you.” His thumb traced the shape of the shell of your ear.

“I don't know what I want to do.”

“We still have time to help you figure things out, okay?” There was a certain sadness to his tone, almost as if his hopes were vanishing.

He didn't want to get rid of it, but being pregnant was a burden that you'd have to carry alone as much as he tried to help. It was your choice and only yours.

“I want to have it, but I don't even have a job or economical support. My parents would kill me if they found out. And Jeno, oh boy, he'd have a heart attack.”

“You have me, y/n. And even though I can't do anything about other people's reactions, I'll always be by your side.”

Doyoung wasn't lying. He walked you through every step, even assumed part of the responsibility when talking to your parents, who didn't react as badly as you'd foreseen.

“Just make sure you're making the right choice.” They'd said.

Jeno was the last person to find out.

“Oh, hey y/n. Were you waiting for me?” He dropped the sports bag right in front of de door.

“We have to tell you something.”

“We?” The look on his face was almost comical as if life had been sucked out of his handsome features.

“Yes, we.” Doyoung laced his fingers with yours, tightly locking your hands together.

His father explained the situation calmly, making sure to use the right words to avoid scaring him away. By the time he was done, Jeno was just staring at you with an emotionless face.

“Jeno?” Your heart dropped at the thought of losing your friend. “Say something, please.”

“You want me to say something?”

There was a small, dramatic pause to add some tension to his words. But the mood lightened as soon as his eyes became crescent moons.

“Bold of you to assume I wasn't aware of your little relationship.” He giggled. “It's okay, guys. You're both adults and I trust you know what you're doing.”

“What the hell is going on?” Your thoughts slipped out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Jeno.” Doyoung mouthed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Man, I always wanted a little brother.” He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you and his father's neck.

“I rather have a girl this time.”

“Should I call you mom?” Jeno teasingly asked, poking the back of your head.

“Try me.”

(...)

As you folded your clothes and placed them in your new closet, the sun started setting. The light sound of sizzling could be heard from the room, probably Doyoung cooking dinner.

“Y/n!” He shouted from downstairs. “Come help me set the table.”

“Coming!” You set aside the remaining boxes. There were not many clothes left to unpack, so you could finish after eating.

You tiptoed on your way downstairs, accomplishing to scare him with a surprise back hug.

“Stop, you could've burnt yourself.” He scolded, undoing your hug only to quickly pull you by his side moments later.

“Is it me or are you getting a little too overprotective?”

“Am not!” His eyebrows quivered like they did every time he lied.

“Really? Then why haven't we had sex ever since you found out I was pregnant?” Your hand teasingly traced figures on his lower abdomen, a little too close to the stove he was using.

“You’re gonna get burnt.” Once again, he tried to push you away, but your hand remained in the same position. “Baby...”

“Uh-uh, you're not gonna sweet-talk your way out. Why won't you touch me anymore? Have I lost my charm or something?”

“What? No!” He turned off the stove, completely turning to his side to face you. “I just don't wanna hurt the baby.”

“Bullshit. You know it's still safe to do it, you already had one son, for god's sake.” Your arms were crossed over your slightly swollen mounds. “I want the truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth...” There was no nervous quiver from his eyebrows, but his tone was less than convincing.

“The whole truth, Doyoung.”

There was no way out, he had to tell you what he'd been trying to hurry at the back of his head for weeks now.

“I can't stop thinking that the only reason we became official is because of this baby, and I'm afraid if you lose it, I'll lose you as well.” It seemed as if your roles had reversed, as if he was the youngest, the most immature.

“Idiot.” You flicked his forehead with anger, later pulling him into a bear hug. “Get those stupid ideas out of your little head or I'll have to slap them out of you.”

“Rude much.”

“I told you once before we found out about the baby...” Your lips were achingly close to his, ready to kiss those soft, pink pillows. “I love you.”

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, too busy to notice how his eyes started sparkling, the edge of them trying to contain his tears. After a while, you looked up, his nostalgic expression puzzling you.

“I’m sorry, it's the hormones.” He sniffled.

“That's not how pregnancy works, honey.”

#nct smut #nct angst #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct doyoung

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ticklishfiend · 4 years ago

Text

Cool Beans (My Hero Academia)

Pairings : Lee!Ojiro / Ler!Bakusquad (minor lee!bkg, ler!kiri with kiribaku!!!)

A/N : aaa this was a rlly cute prompt, tysm anon! took me a while to write this considering i wasn't really sure how to write for ojiro's character haha. i also don't think the toe bean thing is canon whatsoever but guess what, neither is kiribaku and u dont see me shutting up abt them do u? either way, hope u guys enjoy this!! much love <333

Summary : Denki decides to invite Ojiro to one of the Bakusquad's weekly sleepovers, and once they both arrive, is shocked to find that Ojiro has...toe beans? No way he can't investigate those! (even if they do turn out to be a bit sensitive...)

Word Count : 3651

⚠️quick heads up!! i had to add some lines after the "keep reading" so tumblr wouldn't mess up the writing! pls ignore them, they have nothing to do with the actual story!⚠️

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!! MWAH <333

. . .

“Here, just glue that last paper down and we should be done!” Denki clapped his hands together with a wide smile, his tongue poking out of his teeth in excitement as Ojiro pasted the last picture onto their poster board for the night.

The pair had been working on a group project together for the past two days, and after hours of pretty heavy research and planning, they were finally finished, and Denki could not be more thrilled to not have to work anymore tonight. He’s had a good time with Ojiro the past two days, though, and wasn’t really ready to just part ways with him just yet. He’d never really hung out with the guy much before this, and as it turns out they got along much better than he would’ve initially guessed. No way Denki was just gonna give up the chances of a new good friend.

///

“So that’s it, right? We didn’t, like, forget a chunk did we?” Ojiro asked cautiously, knowing Denki was one to often forget important details like that. The electric teen sat in genuine thought for a moment, before popping his mouth with a smile.

“Nope! We’re all good, man,” Denki stood from his spot on the floor, moving the poster over to another side of the room and picking up his bookbag, turning back around to face Ojiro who was busy putting stuff away in his drawers. “Hey, um, me and a couple others are having a sleepover in the common room tonight. Would you wanna join us? I’ve kinda enjoyed hanging out with you these past few days so I think it’d be pretty fun if you went!”

Ojiro looked at him with an almost shocked expression on his face for a moment, eyebrows raised and mouth just slightly agape. “O-Oh, um...sure!” He looked towards his bedroom door a little warily and almost like he was confused, looking back to Denki with a thumb pointed towards the door. “Is it happening, like, now, or…?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah Bakugou and Kirishima already finished their project so they’re probably down there right now, but you can just come down whenever you feel like it! I’ve gotta grab a few pillows and my blanket first but I’ll be down there in just a minute.”

“Alright then, um...I guess I’ll meet you there?”

“Sure thing, man! I’ll tell the others you’ll be coming,” Denki gave Ojiro a big thumbs up before practically bouncing his way out the door and towards his own room to grab his stuff. This was definitely gonna be a fun night.

…

It took a while for Ojiro to get his stuff together for the night, wanting to make sure he had everything so he wouldn’t have to walk back to his room in the middle of the night and risk waking any of the light-sleepers of the dorm. But, once he was sure he had everything and had hyped himself up enough to do it, he finally made his way out of his bedroom, walking towards the common area with his pillow and blanket in hand.

Upon entry, Denki’s whole little friend group was sat lounging around the common areas. Bakugou and Kirishima were cuddled together under the same blanket at the corner of one of the couches, while Mina was on the opposing side of the same couch under her own pink and purple blanket. Sero sat on his own little chair, while Denki sat on the floor on top of an orange bean bag someone must have brought from their own room. Ojiro took a deep breath in before marching his way towards them, waving his arm that held his pillow under the armpit.

“Hey guys!” Ojiro greeted with a smile, all the teens turning around to face him with smiles of their own (well, all except for Bakugou, but Ojiro took no offense to that).

“Ayyye, it’s the Tailster!” Sero chuckled from his spot on the chair, giving Ojiro a little nod in welcome. Denki hopped off his beanbag excitedly, speeding his way behind Sero’s chair to grab a purple bean bag he must’ve brought just for Ojiro’s company. He plopped it right down next to his orange one, showing it off with pride.

“Jirou let me borrow this tonight! I invited her over too but apparently she had plans with Momo,” Denki rolled his eyes playfully with a grin, pretending to gag with a finger in his mouth.

“Booooo, love sucks!” Sero heckled with his hands cupping around his mouth, chuckling when Bakugou threw a throw pillow at him from his spot cuddled up against Kirishima.

Ojiro giggled at their playfulness, sitting his pillow down beside his beanbag before sitting himself down on it comfortably. “Thanks for inviting me, you guys, seriously.”

“Babes, of course!” Mina exclaimed from her spot behind Ojiro on the couch. “We love having you around, Oji!”

“Yeah man, what she said!” Kirishima spoke up, pointing at Mina in agreement. “You’re a super manly dude, Ojiro. We were so excited when Denki told us you said you’d come!”

“Dude, even Bakugou was psyched,” Sero smirked, pointing his thumb at a now seething Bakugou.

“I was not PSYCHED you Spider-Man wannabe! He’s just less annoying than any of you bastards; thought it’d be a nice change of pace for once,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, slumping into Kirishima’s chest with his arms crossed like a pouting toddler. Kirishima just giggled at his boyfriend’s little temper tantrum, scratching at his scalp just the way he knew the blonde loved (which immediately calmed him down from any previous rage he felt towards the, quote, “Spider-Man Wannabe”).

Denki threw himself onto the bean bag next to Ojiro, TV remote in hand as he grinned up towards the tailed hero-in-training. “It’s a Disney movie night; got any suggestions as our guest of honor?”

Ojiro sat in thought for a minute, scratching at his chin as he scanned through all the past Disney films he’d watched over the years through his head. “Hm...Wreck It Ralph?”

“Oh FUCK yeah, this guy’s coming to every movie night from here on out!” Bakugou exclaimed, the compliment making Ojiro feel a little sheepish as he chuckled shyly. The others nodded in agreement, Denki getting the movie ready on the TV from his position propped up on the beanbag.

Once the movie had started, Ojiro decided he wanted to make himself a little more cozy now that he felt more comfortable around the group of other teens. He laid his pillow down on the floor, lounging back against the beanbag and propping up his feet on the soft cushion. Denki glanced over towards Ojiro when he noticed the movement, his eyes naturally gazing towards the boy’s now propped up feet. Denki gasped in excitement when he saw something he had never noticed before on the boy.

“Dude! You’ve got little toe beans!” The electric blonde pointed eagerly down at Ojiro’s feet, the tailed teen blushing slightly at the attention. Denki scooted in closer to his feet, looking intently at the little pink buds on his soles and toes. “No way, this is so cool! Can I touch them?”

“U-Uh, sure, just be gentle please,” Ojiro scratched at his neck sheepishly, unable to keep down the blush pushing at his cheeks and ears from the attention.

Sero suddenly hopped down from his spot on his chair, plopping down next to Denki to get a look at Ojiro’s feet as well. “Yup. Tailster’s got beans.”

Ojiro chuckled at the nickname before flinching when he felt a single finger touch down on the pink pad right under his toes. Denki used the pads of his fingers to idly trace and feel around the flesh, and Ojiro couldn’t help the way his toes tried to instinctively curl up at the sensation.

“They’re so soft, I could do this forever,” Denki sighed, continuing to brush little shapes into the pads. Ojiro gasped with a small jerk when he felt a nail accidentally scrape against the skin, and Denki instinctively pulled his hand back in shock. “Oh, dude, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Ojiro shook his head immediately. “No, you didn’t hurt me, it’s okay! It’s just...the uh, the ‘beans’ are a little...um…sensitive.”

Ojiro could see Sero raise an eyebrow at the word, a small grin appearing on his face as he nudged Denki in the shoulder with his elbow. “I think what Oji’s tryna say is, his beans are ticklish.” Sero glanced at the embarrassed Ojiro, Denki following suit with a large grin plastered on his face.

“Aww, that’s so cute! Kaminari, tickle his beans!” Mina giggled from her spot on the couch, Bakugou rolling his eyes at their silliness. The angry blonde pointed an accusatory finger towards Ojiro, the tailed boy’s eyes a little wide at the intimidation.

“Don’t be fuckin’ loud, Tail, I’m tryna watch the movie you picked out,” Bakugou grumbled, dropping his arm and pushing himself further into Kirishima’s chest as the red-head played with his hair soothingly.

Before Ojiro could respond, he yipped when he felt two teasing nails scratch slowly along the padding on his feet, his leg jerking back only to be stopped by Denki grabbing his ankle and holding the appendage in place.

“Ah ah ah, no getting away now, Oji! I wanna test this out a little more,” Denki chuckled, scribbling his two fingers into the bean. Ojiro gasped, quickly clamping his hands onto his mouth to muffle any giggles that threatened to burst out. Denki continued his slow, ticklish touches while looking over towards Sero. “Sero, get the other foot for me.”

“With pleasure~,” Sero chuckled, gently grabbing Ojiro’s other ankle and scribbling his fingers along the pad on his arch. Finally, Ojiro’s dam broke, muffled giggles being heard from behind his palms as he squirmed in his beanbag.

“Guhuhuys! Nohoho!” He giggled, gently pulling at his trapped feet to no avail. He really didn’t want to kick them, and was almost a little glad they were holding him by his ankles to prevent it, but at the same time it tickled so so badly and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it before he was gonna start to scream laugh.

“Does it really tickle?” Denki asked honestly, but the question only made Ojiro blush even harder behind his hands, the electric teen unintentionally teasing him beyond belief. “I’m gonna go faster, okay? I wanna test and see if it tickles more like that.”

Ojiro nodded shyly, before shrieking at the feeling of three fingers scribbling even faster along the pads of his foot, Sero’s hand still scribbling rather slowly on his other foot, but oh so teasingly.

“GYAHAHA! Kaminahahari! Guhuhuys! It tihihickles!” Ojiro cackled, keeping one hand over his mouth while the other went to grip at the side of his bean bag for support.

“Get his toes ones, you idiots. The toes always tickle worse,” Bakugou called from the couch, Kirishima giggling beside him.

“Yeah, you would know, wouldn’t you Bakugou?” Kirishima teased, pinching Bakugou’s side under the blanket and causing the blonde to yelp before hitting the redhead in the chest playfully with a frown.

Denki heard Bakugou loud and clear, moving his fingers up to scribble along the pads covering Ojiro’s toes. The poor tailed boy squealed, his kicking and thrashing getting a little more aggressive as Sero also moved upwards to mimic Denki’s tickling.

“NAHAHA! STHAHAHAP! IT TICKLES SOHOHO MUHUHUCH WOHOHORSE!” Ojiro cackled, both of his hands shooting down to clutch at his tummy that was convulsing from laughter. “PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IT!”

“Oh c’moooon Oji! You’re a hero in training! I’d think you could handle a couple bean-tickles!” Sero teased, switching to pinch at the pad with his finger and thumb. Ojiro screamed through his giggle fit, making Bakugou groan and grab the remote to turn on the subtitles.

“NOHOHO! NOHOHO PIHIHINCHING! PLEHEHEASE!” Ojiro pleaded, his eyes squeezed so tightly shut that he could see little colorful fireworks in the darkness of his eyelids. Kaminari just giggled, pinching at the boy’s big toe despite his desperate pleas.

“You’re really ticklish, man! Is it like this everywhere or just your beans?” Denki raised an eyebrow before glancing over towards his three friends on the couch. Mina squealed excitedly, knowing exactly what the blonde was implying, while Bakugou just groaned into Kirishima’s chest.

“I don't wanna moveeeee,” Bakugou whined, making Kirishima just roll his eyes with a smile. Kirishima pinched Bakugou’s side again without stopping this time, making Bakugou jerk with a few choked giggles. “N-Nohoho! Kihihiri!”

“I’ll just tickle you ‘til you help us tickle Ojiro, Kats,” Kirishima teased into the blonde's ear, who promptly scrunched up his shoulder and batted at the boy’s face.

“Fihihihine! I’ll hehehelp! Just quhuhuit!” he giggled, huffing when Kirishima finally relented. They both moved from their cozy spot on the couch, the three of them getting down on the floor next to Ojiro. Denki and Sero had momentarily stopped their tickling at this point to give the boy a breather, but still held onto his ankles firmly as to not let him escape just yet.

“Guys, w-wait, hold on-” Ojiro pleaded with a blush before being hushed by Mina.

“Sorry, Oji, but this is a tickle-friendly group! Might have to get used to it if you wanna spend more time with us!” Mina giggled, plopping down on his right side while Bakugou took his right. Kirishima sat behind him, quickly hooking his arms under Ojiro’s and pulling him back some to give the others access to his torso.

“Which we definitely want you to do! You’re super fun, Ojiro, and we wanna keep spending time with you!” Kirishima smiled, though Ojiro couldn’t exactly see it as Kirishima was behind his head. “And hey, if you really really need us to stop, our safeword is ‘koala’!”

“I came up with that one,” Denki chuckled proudly, holding a hand to his chest.

“That’s...that’s really nice of you guys to say,” Ojiro smiled with flushed cheeks, sighing before bringing his head up to face them. “Alright, I’m ready. Someone should probably sit on my tail, though; I’m really ticklish and sometimes it goes a little out of control.”

“No problem, buddy! Bakugou; tail,” Kirshima pointed with his finger extended towards Bakugou, who just rolled his eyes and plopped down on his tail. “Comfy?”

“Y-Yeah, just hurry up, I’m not sure I can take waiting any longeR-HRG! HEHEHEHAHAHA! NAHAHAHA GAHAHAD!” Ojiro cackled wildy as all the teens around him dug into his sensitive body. Mina scribbled her finger in the hollow on his right armpit, while Bakugou took a much rougher approach, digging his fingers into the grooves of Ojiro’s ribs and vibrating mercilessly. Denki and Sero continued their incessant assault upon his so-called “toe beans,” scribbling wildly with their fingernails and leaving Ojiro an absolute mess underneath them. Kirishima got a little bored just being Ojiro’s physical captor, and took to blowing teasing air along the backs of Ojiro’s ears, which resulted in him scrunching up his neck with high-pitched squeals.

“Aww, he’s so ticklish!” Mina cooed, massaging circles with her thumb into Ojiro’s armpit, making the teen jerk and writhe under her assault with vicious cackles.

“It’s fucking hilarious, he’s losing his goddamn mind,” Bakugou chuckled, moving his fingers down to pinch along Ojiro’s sides right above his hips. Ojiro screamed, thrashing under their hold with desperate cackles and pleas.

“NAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHKUGOGOGOU! NAHAT THEHEHERE!” Ojiro’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his body trying desperately to wiggle away from those torturous fingers that refused to relent on his sensitive sides.

“Aww, someone’s got really ticklish sides!” Denki teased, pinching at Ojiro’s big toe pad while having to hold on to his ankle for dear life so he didn’t kick it out of his pin.

“PLEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T!!” he bursted, his body trying to curl in on itself from the ticklish sensations. “I’LL DOHOHO ANYTHIHIHING!”

“Looks like we’ve got a beggar,” Sero chuckled, scratching relentlessly at those little beans. “Tell you what, Oji; promise to come to our next sleepover and you’ve got a deal.”

“I PROHOHOMISE! I PROHOMISE JUHUHUST PLEHEHEHASE! NO MOHOHORE TIHIHICKLES!” Ojiro begged through his giggling mirth. Those fingers against his sides just would not let up, as Bakugou was quite the mean tickler he’d come to find out, and he really didn’t know how much longer he could stand it. It was incessant, it was torturous, it was...it was so much fun.

“Oh yeah? You wanna bring us some snacks too?” Bakugou added, one hand continuing it’s deathly ticklish attack on the boy’s sides, while the other took to scribbling along Ojiro’s stomach and pinching at the pudge when he felt absolutely necessary.

“YEHEHES! ANYTHIHIHING!”

“Hmmm...what snacks do you guys like for a movie?” Denki asked, as if he wasn’t in the middle of pinching and scribbling at his friend’s sensitive feet and making the boy thrash and cackle cries of mirth underneath him. “I could probably go for some sour gummy worms. Sero?”

“Oh, definitely some Reeses Pieces. Goes great with popcorn,” Sero grinned, looking calmly towards Bakugou who was very evilly grinning while squeezing torturously along Ojiro’s sides. “Bakugou?”

“Hot Cheetos, easy. Forget those next time and this will look like child’s play in comparison,” Bakugou chuckled lowly, Denki raising an eyebrow at him.

“Dude...this is child’s play. We’re literally having a tickle fight right now,” Denki grinned, the background melody of Ojiro’s desperate cackles making him giggle from the contagion.

“SHUT UP, SPARKY!” Bakugou yelled, which only made him drill even harder into the boy’s sensitive flesh.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHASE STAHAHAHP! ANYTHING YOHOHU WAHAHAHNT! I CAN’T TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT!”

“Alright, alright, just two more snacks for you to jot on your mental list and you’ll be good to go!” Kirishima hyped the cackling boy underneath him, but looked to his friends to mentally tell them, ‘give the boy a second to breathe.’ They all slowed their tickling down some, still not relenting fully, but instead reducing Ojiro to a pile of happy, giddy giggles instead of the desperate cackling cries he had just seconds before. Kirishima smiled at the adorable sound. “I’ll take...hmm...I’ll take some jerky! Mina?”

Mina stopped her assault on the boy entirely, Ojiro opening a tear-filled eye to glance at her through his giggles. “I’m more of a fruit girl, so I’ll have to go with…” Mina grinned, pulling up Ojiro’s shirt to reveal his bare tummy, her face leaning down close enough where the boy could feel her breath brush against the skin, sending goosebumps across the expanse. He sucked in his stomach much to no avail. Mina smirked evilly up at Ojiro, his eyes now wide and his mouth still spilling giggle after giggle from the slowly tickling fingers along his side and feet. “...raspberries.”

Ojiro’s eyes widened. “No! Nonono, not thahahat! Wahahait, Mina pleheh-EHEASE! GYAHAHA STAHAHAP! NAHAHAHA!” Ojiro cackled and kicked as he felt Mina place teasing raspberry after teasing raspberry along his bare and ticklish tummy, He wiggled and squirmed to no avail until Mina finally let up, sitting up and back against her hands on the floor with her own little giggle.

Everyone finally stopped their tickling, letting go of the boy’s limbs and backing off to let him breathe. Denki chuckled at Ojiro’s heaving breaths and residual giggles, patting his calf in comfort. “You okay, Oji?”

Ojiro just nodded with a giggle, holding up a big thumbs up. “Yuhup, all good here.”

Kirishima smiled widely, clapping his hands together once before patting Ojiro on the shoulder in support, shaking the boy around a little. “You did great, man! Way better than I could ever handle a good tickling!” the redhead chuckled.

“Yeah, man, you were a total champ,” Sero grinned, holding up two thumbs up to the tailed boy who just smiled back at him.

“I’ll go grab you some water from the kitchen, cutie! Get comfy on the couch, I’ll take the beanbag,” Mina ruffled his hair as she stood from her spot on the floor, skipping her way to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water. He watched her leave, seeing Bakugou stand up from the corner of his eye. The explosive teen just plopped back down on his spot on the couch like nothing had happened, unpausing the movie and making grabby hands towards Kirishima. The redhead just chuckled and obeyed the boy, getting up and throwing himself on the couch to cuddle Bakugou back under their shared blanket.

Denki just rolled his eyes at the gross lovey-dovey display, standing up and offering a hand to Ojiro. “Seriously, man, you’re getting that other spot on the couch after all that. Waaay comfier than this old beanbag,” Denki smiled as Ojiro took Denki’s hand, letting out a huff of air as he pulled Ojiro off the floor. Ojiro plopped himself down on the couch tiredly, letting out a small ‘oof!’ when Sero threw his pillow at him before laying his blanket down on top of him.

“Get comfy, we sleep in here,” Sero smiled before walking back towards his own seat. Mina finally made it back from the kitchen, handing Ojiro the glass of water with a smile.

Ojiro just sat there, almost dumbfounded for a moment at their kindness. “Um...thanks, guys. You’re all like...super duper nice.”

“Aww, babes!” Mina pouted happily, her hands shooting to her chest over the spot that contained her swelling heart. “You’re such a sweetheart, of course we’d be nice to you!”

“Can you guys shut the fuck up already? Shit, I’m tryna watch the goddamn movie,” bakugou grumbled, pouting like a child against Kirishima’s chest.

Ojiro really couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends, and he was so happy they felt the same way about him.

. . .

A/N : aaa i hope u enjoyed that!! if u did, pls consider reblogging, it helps my fic to reach more ppl!! much love to u all, mwah!! <33

#tickle fic #my fic #tickling #tickle community #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #anime tickles #anime tickling #katsuki bakugou #kirishima eijrio #denki kaminari #sero hanta #mina ashido #ojiro mashirao #bakuquad #mha tickles #mha tickling

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pretendingboyfriends · 4 years ago

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A/N: holy SHIT u guys the way i absolutely LOVE how this turned out,,,,, i REALLY hope u guys love it as much as i do and pls pls pls don’t be afraid to tell me ur favorite parts or give me suggestions for the next part!! and thank u miss tanya @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this part!!! ily mwah<3

Warnings: some explicit language & slight sexual innuendos

Word count: 5.9k+

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You gaze out into the crystal blue ocean as you drive along the beachfront, car window ajar allowing the salty, warm breeze to kiss your skin gently. The sun glimmers brightly in the sky, not a single cloud in sight and you feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong.

Deidre invited you on this beach trip as a last minute getaway. She knew you’d been having a bit of a hard time with your mental health recently, so she decided to rent a beach house for the two of you to try and help you get out of your “funk” as she called it. Two weeks of relaxation with nothing to worry about. Just lounging around in the warm sun with your best friend for 14 days. You simply couldn’t say no.

Seeing as Deidre has been your best friend for the majority of your lifetime, trips like these aren’t uncommon in the slightest. In fact, you’ve been on so many vacations with her and her family that you can’t even fathom going somewhere like this without her.

“Do you wanna stop and grab something to eat before we get to the house?” The sound of her voice draws you from your almost dazed state and you turn to look at her as she drives. Immediately at the mention of food, your stomach gurgles violently, loud enough for both of you to hear which causes you both to burst into a fit of laughter.

“I guess that answers your question better than anything.” You choke through laughter.

“Well then,” She giggles, “McDonald’s, here we come!”

The two of you purchase almost the entire McDonald’s menu and eat approximately 3/4ths of it in the car before you’re finally headed to the beach house with bloated tummies and quenched appetites.

Eventually, you’re pulling into the driveway of a small, teal beach house facing the ocean. The house is lifted on stilts due to its position near the ocean and the paint is slightly worn, chipping away on the wooden slats most likely due to past tropical storms. There are two sets of steps, both leading to a wrap around porch, one coming from the back of the house (where the pool is) and one leading directly to the front door. It’s quaint and homey and you love it.

When you’d initially pulled in, you hadn’t noticed the other car parked in the driveway, but now that you’re stepping out of Deidre’s car, your gaze falls directly onto the bright yellow Ferrari parked only a few feet away from you. There is only one person you know that owns that exact car.

“Oh! I forgot to mention, Harry is staying here too.”

You whip your head in Deidre’s direction, your jaw nearly dropping from its hinges. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier??”

She shrugs casually as she swings the drivers door shut and walks around to the back. “I guess I forgot.” She presses a button on her keys and the back door slowly opens in front of her. “Plus, I didn’t think you’d mind, the two of you have always gotten along.”

“Deidre, that’s not why I’m upset-”

“Great, then what’s the problem?” She interrupts, eyebrows raised in question as she stares at you. You definitely aren’t one for violence, but the image of smacking her directly across the face flashes across your mind for a moment and you seriously consider doing it. “He’s just here to relax like us. And he’s paying for the place, so I couldn’t really say no.”

You let out an exasperated groan in response, slamming the passenger door shut and stomping around to the back of the car so that you can retrieve your own bags.

The truth is, you and Harry had gotten along in the past, which would give you no reason to be panicking right now, but something you hadn’t told Deidre was that for the entirety of your childhood, you were madly in love with him. Yes, he’s older than you by a few years, but that never stopped you from pining over him from the ripe age of six. You had watched the way he treated his two sisters and mother for so long and fell in love with his kindness and care for others. You used to daydream about the day he would realize his love for you, but of course Harry got famous and that day never came.

It’s been years since you’ve seen him in person. The last time you were in direct contact was nearly 4 years ago, a couple years after he went on The X Factor and was immediately consumed by fame. He was 18 at the time, visiting home during a little break, and you were having a sleepover with Deidre, but the length of your collision wasn’t very long. A few harmless words were exchanged during dinner and then you and Deidre had excused yourselves to continue your evening and that was it. Then, he was undeniably the most attractive boy you had ever seen and now, if it was even possible, he’d blossomed into a beautiful man, even more attractive than he was before.

As you begin to haul your bags out of the trunk, Harry appears at the top of the steps, screen door leading into the house flapping loudly behind him.

“Need some help with bags?” He calls, swiftly galloping down the wooden steps.

Deidre sighs in relief, “That’d be great, thanks Harry!”

His long, curly hair is pulled into a tight bun at the top of his head, a few stray curls framing his beautiful face. He smiles at you, dimples sinking deeply into his cheeks as he strides towards you, “Long time, no see,”

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks and you smile sheepishly, “Hi, Harry, how are you?”

“I’m pretty good! And yourself?” He asks, effortlessly tugging your large bag from the trunk of the car and slinging it over his shoulder.

You swallow thickly, struggling to keep your eyes off of his straining muscles through his thin t-shirt. “I’m uh- I’m good as well.”

“Glad to hear it, babe.” He winks and you watch as he takes a few smaller bags from the trunk, heading back up the stairs and through the front door, breathing out a shaky sigh before grabbing your remaining bag.

Deidre is already halfway up the stairs behind him when she calls back to you, “Can you close the trunk before coming up?”

You shoot her a quick thumbs up and drop the bags onto the cement driveway, lifting your arms above your head and slamming the large door shut before picking up the bags again and heading towards the stairs. You’re still quite stunned at what just happened and, frankly, you’re a little bit vexed with Deidre’s nonchalant way of sharing that Harry was going to be joining you on what was supposed to be a relaxing trip. Nevertheless, you’re forced to set your feelings aside and keep your mouth shut for fear of Deidre prying the truth out of you.

As you step into the house, screen door slamming behind you, you take a gander around the living area. It’s small and you can tell it hasn't been redecorated since at least 1985. Every piece of decor has some sort of relation to a beach (quite fitting considering where you are). Even the wallpaper is covered with small seashells and fish and it makes you chuckle. There’s an opening connected to the living area that leads directly to the kitchen, a second doorway that you assume leads to the bedrooms, and a large sliding glass door that leads to the back porch.

Deidre saunters out of the second doorway, “C’mon, let me show you our room!”

You frown, “Our room?”

“Yeah, there are only two bedrooms.”

“Oh,” You take a moment to breathe in, feeling your frustration building with every passing moment as you follow her into the small hallway. You pass the first door on your right, glancing inside to find the bathroom before moving on. The next door you pass is a bedroom decorated identically to the living room, a queen sized bed crammed into the corner with a quilt covered in clownfish and seaweed and the last door is another bedroom. This bedroom is painted a bright coral pink and the theme seems to be seashells due to the seashell print on the bed’s quilt and the framed seashells above the bed. This room, although similar to the first one, is a little bit larger and the bed rests directly in the middle of the room instead of it being crammed into the corner like the first one.

You step into the room after Deidre and toss your bags onto the floor next to the wall before throwing yourself onto the bed as you kick your shoes off. “I’m so ready to relax,”

She hums as she unzips her large bag and begins shoveling her clothes into the top drawer of the dresser across from the bed. “Me too,”

“I think I might go for a swim,” You turn over onto your back, lifting yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed as you look at her. “Wanna join me?”

“As soon as i finish unpacking, I will.”

You shoot her a quick thumbs up and shove yourself off of the bed and towards your bags. Harry had set your large bag of clothes right beside the door, so you fall to your knees and pull it towards you to search for your bathing suit.

“Go ask if Harry wants to come, too.” She adds, tossing her own bathing suit onto the bed.

You hate her. You want to strangle her. It’s like she knows. But of course, she doesn’t. You’d never told anyone about your little crush and you planned to keep it that way. Tucking the valuable information into the very back of your mind for the rest of eternity.

Without a word, you push yourself onto your feet and pad through the doorway, the thick carpet squishing softly beneath your bare feet. You’re hesitant to call for him at first, quietly wandering through the hallway, peering into the open doorways. Both rooms are empty, but there’s evidence of him sprawled across the bedroom. A large suitcase thrown haphazardly on the bed with clothes and shoes strewn all around it.

“Harry?” You continue walking, stepping out into the living room to find him lounging on the couch with the TV on in nothing but a pair of tight, black jeans, tattoos on full display. “Oh, there you are,” He looks up at you, a hint of mischief behind his virescent eyes. “Dee was wondering if you wanted to go for a swim with us.” it’s a statement, of course, but the wavering of your voice makes it sound like a question.

“I would,” He starts, sitting up a little and reaching for the TV remote to turn down the volume. “But it looks like it’s about to rain.”

You frown, turning to the sliding glass window to find that in the short amount of time it took for you to take your bags from the car and into the house, the sky had filled with dark, fluffy clouds.

“Shit.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance, droplets of rain mizzling against the windows and roof quietly as the three of you keep yourselves dry inside the beach house.

“Alright, we have Monopoly, Life, Scrabble, Cards Against Humanity, a deck of regular playing cards, Jenga, and a few puzzles.” Deidre lists as she shovels through the large chest beside the couch, labeled ‘Games’. “Which one sounds the most fun right now?”

You curl your feet underneath you on the couch and shrug, “A puzzle sounds nice.”

She nods, turning to Harry who’s making himself a sandwich in the kitchen. “Harry?”

“I agree with her on the puzzle.”

“Puzzle it is, then.” She concludes, grabbing the first puzzle her eyes land on and setting it on the wooden coffee table. Another fit of thunder causes the house to shiver and you sigh, silently cursing the rain for trapping you inside on the first day of vacation.

After Harry comes back into the living room and settles onto the couch beside you, Deidre sits on the other side of the coffee table and dumps the puzzle pieces out onto it. A show you’ve never heard of plays on the TV behind her and you glance up from the puzzle every now and then to watch it as the three of you sit in silence.

The entire evening Harry sits beside you, his arm gently nudging yours every time he reaches forward to move a puzzle piece. At first, you brush it off as an accident, barely acknowledging his presence, but when he takes it a step further and knocks a puzzle piece out of your hand, you glance in his direction to find him smiling smugly to himself. You shake your head, holding back a small smile as you return to the puzzle, finding a different piece and placing it where it belongs. Two can play at that game.

As Harry reaches for another piece, you quickly reach over his arm and snatch the piece he was aiming for, mumbling: “Ah, here it is! I was looking for this one.”

You can feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as you hold back a laugh, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Was that necessary?” He hums thickly, keeping his gaze in your direction.

You shrug, placing the piece into its home. “I mean, that’s the point of building a puzzle, right? Finding each piece and where it goes...”

He smirks and shakes his head at you but doesn’t respond.

A few hours pass as the three of you work and soon, it’s dark outside and the rain has calmed to a light drizzle. Deidre yawns and stretches her arms above her head before glance at the time on her phone.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed, it’s pretty late and long drives always make me tired.” She says through another yawn and you nod.

“Me too,”

“Alright then, wimps,” Harry replies, “I guess I’ll just have to party by myself.”

Deidre looks at you and rolls her eyes dramatically as Harry chuckles to himself. You push yourself up from the couch, stretching your arms out above your head just like Deidre had done moments ago.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She hums, stepping around the coffee table to smack a quick kiss to his forehead before sauntering off to the bedroom. You glance behind you as you follow her, giving Harry a small wave.

“G’night,” He mumbles softly in response and you can feel his gaze on you as you step into the hallway. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s checking you out.

Warm droplets of water cascade down your bare skin as you step out of the shower, wrapping a soft towel around your body. You hum quietly to yourself, patting the towel against your skin to dry off as much as possible.

Just as you’ve finished drying yourself off, you realize you completely forgot to bring a clean change of clothes into the bathroom, so you’re just left with the dirty clothes you’d spent the entire day in. Cringing at the thought of putting the clothes back on, you decide to take your chances and slip out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around your form.

You gather the pile of clothes into your arms after taking a moment to moisturize and brush your teeth, stepping out into the dark hallway. Suddenly, just as you’re taking another step, Harry appears at the end of the hallway, crunching loudly with a bowl of cereal in hand. He’s clothed in a thin, grey t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, fluffy socks pulled onto his feet.

“Shit,” You gasp, eyes widening as you press the bundle of clothes to your chest harshly.

“Oh, hey,” Harry says mid chew.

You pause, “I didn’t think you’d be awake...”

He smiles sheepishly, “Yeah, uh, I got a little hungry.”

“I can see that,”

“I can make you a bowl if you’d like,” He offers, jutting a thumb behind his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“Harry-” You scoff, “I am quite literally standing naked in front of you right now.”

He shrugs, chuckling to himself as his eyes flit to the ground and then back up to you. “Was just trying to be polite.”

“Um- well, thanks, but I think I’m alright for now.”

“Alright,” He sighs, taking another bite from his spoon, “Goodnight, then.”

“‘Night.” You murmur, watching him strut past you towards his room. You wait until the door is closed before you scurry into your own room, finding Deidre fast asleep on her side of the bed.

Morning comes sooner than anticipated and soon, you’re dragging yourself out of bed as Deidre snores. You’re not expecting her to get out of bed anytime soon.

You trudge out into the kitchen with a yawn, finding Harry leaning against the countertop with his nose buried in a book. He’s in the same clothes from the night before, but instead of his hair being pulled back into a bun

“Good morning,” You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself as you step onto the cold tile.

He glances up from his book and smiles back, tucking a bookmark between the pages before setting it down on the countertop. “Mornin’. Coffee’s almost ready if you want some. I made enough for all of us.”

“Oh, great, thank you!”

“I went out to the shops earlier as well and got some of that coffee creamer you and Dee like,” He starts, pushing his large hand through his long, curly hair. “I know it’s been a bit since we last saw each other, but I know that she still likes it, so I assumed you do, too.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you take a clean mug from the dish rack lying beside the sink, “I actually do still like it, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “S’no problem, really.”

The coffee maker beeps twice to indicate that the coffee is finished brewing and Harry turns, reaching out for your mug. “May I?”

“Oh- yes, please,” You smile, allowing him to take the ceramic mug from your hand and pour the scalding liquid into the mug before gently placing it back into your hand. “Thanks.”

You walk to the fridge, swinging the door open to scavenge for the creamer he’d mentioned earlier. The carton catches your eye and you snatch it from the shelf, kicking the fridge door shut before setting the mug on the counter.

“Did I get the right kind?” Harry asks as you unscrew the cap.

“Yep!” You smile, pouring the cream into the dark coffee, causing the two to swirl together into a thick, hazel colored liquid. You find a small spoon in one of the many drawers lining the countertop and you drop it into the liquid, stirring it momentarily before tapping off the excess liquid and placing the spoon into the sink. Glancing back up at him, you take a careful sip from your mug to test the temperature.

“Good?” He asks, sipping from his own mug slowly.

“Great.” You confirm, taking a larger sip as you lean your hip against the counter.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few long moments, sipping your coffee leisurely before Harry speaks.

“Do you-” He clears his throat, “Do you want to go sit out on the back deck with our coffee? The weather’s great and the view is phenomenal.”

He seems slightly more nervous than he had been the day before, most likely due to your brief run in that evening, but you don’t mind. “Yeah, that sounds nice!”

He nods towards the doorway with a smile, waiting for you to take the first step before following behind you through the sliding glass door. There are a few chairs settled around a small, round table, overlooking a breathtaking view of the beach where a few people are getting their morning jog in or just strolling leisurely along the shore. You slide yourself into the furthest chair, careful not to spill the hot coffee in your hand as you do so, watching Harry as he does the same.

You wonder why, if he was paying for the entire trip, he would choose such a cheap beach house in such a rural part of this particular beach. Seeing as he was a multi millionaire, you’d assume he would choose the most expensive place to stay in the most popular area, but that obviously isn’t the case. Not that you aren’t grateful for staying there for free, because you are, you’re just curious.

“So,” You begin, sipping your coffee for a moment before continuing. “How’s celebrity life treating you?”

He chuckles, pushing a hand through his luscious mane, “S’not bad. Been treatin’ me pretty well, I can’t complain.”

You nod, “That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” Pausing for a moment, you curl your feet beneath you on the chair before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up from his coffee, raising his eyebrows with a nod, “Sure.”

You take a breath, aware of the intrusiveness of your question but speaking anyways. “Dee told me you’re paying for all this,” You motion to the house with your hands, “And I’m just wondering why you chose to come here and rent this house when you have the money for something much nicer in a much nicer area.”

He thinks about it for a moment, brows furrowed in thought before he lets out a breathy laugh. “Honestly, there are a few reasons,” He clears his throat and crosses one leg over the other. “The first one is that I’m able to avoid paparazzi, for the most part, because they don’t suspect that I’d ever stay in a place like this,” He explains, using his hands to animate. “And the second one is that I like to make things as normal as possible, especially when I’m spending time with Dee. I know she would absolutely love staying in some bougie mansion with its own private beach, but I just don’t want things to be different from when we were kids, you know? I’d rather her not have the image of me being a rich asshole in her head all the time. I just want her to see me as she always has; her big brother.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his sentiment, the reminder of just how much he cares about his family causing certain feelings to come rushing back to you. “I- sorry, I know that was a weird question to ask... but yeah that makes sense. I didn’t really think of it that way.”

Just as you finish speaking, Deidre comes bursting wildly through the sliding glass door in her bathing suit and a large towel draped over her arm.

“IT’S BEACH TIME, FUCKERS!!” She screams, leaping down the stairs and bolting across the dock leading to the beach. Her bare feet kick up clouds of sand as she runs across the beach, dropping her towel carelessly as she gallops into the water.

You and Harry look at each other with wide eyes, both of you bursting into a fit of laughter at the same time. You open your mouth to speak, but Deidre beats you to it.

“COME ON GUYS!! IT FEELS GREAT!”

You look back at Harry again, snickering. “I think we should get out there.”

He hums, “I agree.”

You both lift yourselves out of the porch chairs, heading into the house to change into your own bathing suits. Harry, of course, offers to take your mug and clean it.

Around ten minutes pass before you’re finally in your bathing suit stepping out onto the sand with Harry following close behind. Deidre is laying out on the sand with an arm draped over her eyes as she waits for the two of you to arrive. Since it’s still morning, there’s a bit of a nippy breeze to the air, causing goosebumps to litter your skin and shiver to travel down your spine.

“Finally,” She breathes, pushing herself up from the towel. Harry comes up behind you and drops both of your towels onto the sand beside her along with his book from this morning.

“S’quite nice out, innit?” He hums, resting his hands against his hips. His hair is pulled back into a bun and he’s wearing the shortest bright yellow swim trunks you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but to giggle a little.

Deidre rolls her eyes, reaching forward and grasping your arm before dragging you with her towards the water. It’s around 10:00 am and there are a few more people on the beach than there were when you and Harry had first sat on the deck, so when you enter the water, you and Deidre aren’t the only ones there.

Though there are people on the beach, none of them seem to notice that Harry’s there. They’re all caught up in their own vacations, oblivious to the fact that a multi-millionaire celebrity is galloping into the ocean towards you like a child.

You and Deidre screech as he comes toppling into the water head first, cool water splashing around him and onto both of you. The small waves crash into your legs whilst you clamor through the water, Harry surfacing dramatically, completely soaked and absolutely gorgeous.

“It’s fucking freezing,” You mutter under your breath, wrapping your bare arms around yourself as you trudge deeper into the water.

“If you get wet, it won’t be as cold.” Harry retorts, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

You shake your head at him, “You’re insane,”

Just as you speak those words, Deidre dunks herself completely under water, splashing you once again as she comes back to the surface.

Harry chuckles, “C’mon, you’re gonna get wet eventually.”

You ignore the subtle innuendo. “I have no intention of getting in further than here so if you really want me to go under, it’s gonna have to be done by force.”

He cocks an eyebrow from beneath his sunglasses. “Is that a challenge?”

“Don’t even think about it,” You breathe, glaring at him.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Deidre snickers as Harry begins to creep towards you slowly. His eyes are hidden beneath his sunglasses but you can tell his pupils are narrowed in directly on you.

You step back with every step he takes forward, small waves crashing into the backs of your thighs at the movement of the water. He lifts his arms slightly as he stalks toward you and you squeal, nearly stumbling backwards and toppling back into the cold water.

“Harry, I swear to god-” You start but you’re quickly interrupted by your own shriek as he tackles you into the water. It feels as though you’ve inhaled gallons of water from the impact once you resurface, sputtering and gasping dramatically. He doubles over with laughter and Deidre cackles a few feet away. You feel like a sad, wet dog standing in the ocean as they laugh at you and you cross your arms over your chest with a huff. “I hate both of you so much.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Oh, come onnnn, it’s not that bad.”

“My nipples could do some serious damage right now,” You growl between chattering teeth and both of them giggle.

“Well, you’re wet now so there’s no point in not swimming with us.” Deidre shrugs, dipping back under as a wave rolls by.

You stand in silent rage for a few moments, glaring at Harry as he tries in vain not to let his eyes flicker down to your breasts. You don’t notice his eyeline wavering, though, too distracted by the brumal temperature of your body. A particularly nippy breeze attacks your damp skin and you whimper slapping your arms around your chest.

“I’m going back to the shore. It’s way too cold for this.” You huff, the water sloshing loudly as you begin to traipse back to the shore.

Harry watches you stumble back onto the soppy sand with a slight smirk on his pink lips and you can hear the low chuckle escape from his chest breathily. You counter his haughty chortle with a middle finger thrown up behind you, eyes trained in front of you to shield your view of him.

Once you reach the towels you’d set out earlier, you unfold your towel and wrap it around your shoulders before plopping your ass into the sand. The chattering of your teeth subsides after a few moments and you glance to your side to find the book Harry had been reading. Curiosity fills you and you reach over, lifting it from its spot on Harry’s towel and bringing it in front of you to examine it.

It’s a paperback, the cover an off-white cardstock with a simple design of a bleeding heart, impaled by an arrow on the front. The title reads “The Course of Love, a novel by Alain De Botton” and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You never would have assumed that he would be such a romantic.

You turn to the first chapter titled “Infatuations”, scanning it briefly and landing on the small, italicized paragraph in the middle that reads, “A marriage doesn’t begin with a proposal, or even an initial meeting. It begins far earlier, when the idea of love is born, and more specifically the dream of a soul mate.”

“Insightful.” You mutter to yourself, eyebrows raised in understanding before fanning the pages to scour the book further.

As you scan the blur of pages, you find that there are words scrawled all over the margins of the paper, words frantically underlined like they’d been scribbled whilst he was in a hurry. Your thumb lands approximately a fourth of the way into the book, a small photograph slipping from the spine and into your lap as you open it. It’s a photo of him, Deidre, Gemma (their older sister) and Anne (their mother) all cuddled up together on Anne’s couch with warm smiles on their faces. Their smiles are almost identical to each other as well as their features and, in a way, it comforts you.

You glance back up from the photo to the page of the book, your eyes immediately landing on an underlined sentence from the italicized section. It reads, “When two people belong together, there is simply--at long last--a wondrous reciprocal feeling that both parties see the world in precisely the same way.” You suck in a breath at the words for a moment but a sudden droplet of water landing on the page pulls you from your stupor.

“I see you’ve found my book,” Harry’s voice belows above you and you snap your head in his direction as he shakes his dripping wet hair.

You nestling the photo back into the spine of the book before shutting it and smiling up at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I- it was just sitting there and I got curious.”

“S’alright, I don’t mind,” He shrugs, reaching for his towel and wrapping it around himself. “What’d you think?”

“Oh- I only read a couple sentences,” You mutter, tightening the towel around yourself. “But from what I did read, it seemed quite insightful.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks an amused eyebrow at you.

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “Very elegant and sophisticated.”

“Mmm.” He hums, nodding his head in agreement.

Your bottom lip slips between your teeth to hold back a grin as you glance away from him towards the water. Your eyes land on a group of people standing around Deidre in the shallow water directly across from you. You frown, “What’s Dee gotten herself into?”

He takes a swig from the metal bottle of water he’d brought with him before speaking, “Made herself some new friends, I guess.”

You study them for a moment, watching her laugh heartily at one of the guys’ jokes and pursing your lips together. Wherever the two of you went, she was always capable of making friends. Her natural charm could sweep anyone off their feet and it endlessly left you feeling like an extra wheel. You know she doesn’t mean to leave you out of things, she never has any sort of malicious intent, but you’re both so different from each other that it constantly feels like you’re left in the dust.

You glance away from the group, looking back in Harry’s direction to distract yourself from the intrusive thoughts filling your mind.

“So, um, what’re your opinions on it?” You start again, clearing your throat quietly. “The book, I mean.”

He smiles as he skillfully tosses his sopping hair into a messy bun, “I like it. S’actually the second time I’ve read it.”

Your eyebrows quirk at that, “Really?”

He nods, tilting his body closer to you and bending one of his legs up against his chest. “Yeah.”

You laugh, “What do you expect from that?”

“What, like, do I expect it to change?” You nod silently in response and he shrugs. “I mean- no, it’s just… comforting, in a way.”

“Comforting,” You repeat to yourself. “I guess that makes sense.”

“It also kind of helps me retain the information better, you know?” He continues, mindlessly digging his fingers into the damp sand.

“Yeah, I understand,” You reply softly, “Do you do that with all the books you read?”

He nods, “More or less.”

There’s an abrupt screech, followed by a few animated giggles and both of you look up at the sound. Deidre is running towards the two of you happily, a wide smile spread across her face as she skids to a stop in front of you.

“I’m gonna go get lunch with these guys,” She chokes, out of breath from the short jog over. “Do either of you wanna come?”

You glance behind her at the group as they watch her for a moment and then you turn your head back to her. “You go ahead, I think I’ll just stay back here.”

Her expression falls a little and she sighs, turning to Harry with a hopeful look. He looks at you for a moment and then peers back up at her.

“Think m’gonna do the same. Have fun, though.” He smiles and you nod along with him.

She sighs again, reaching down and yanking her towel from the sand. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go change and then I’ll be heading out with them for a couple hours.”

You watch as she calls back to them that she’ll “be right back” before galloping back up to the house with her towel dragging behind her.

“You could’ve gone with them if you wanted to, you know,” You say quietly. “I’m alright by myself.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, s’not really my scene anyways.”

You stay silent after that, watching the repetitive roll of the waves in a mindless state. Deidre returns in a matter of minutes, a loose dress tossed over her bathing suit, her long, dark hair tied into a high ponytail fluttering behind her as she prances.

“See ya!” She calls after you.

“Be careful!” You call in response and then she’s gone, engulfed into the group just like she had been before.

AHHHHHF;LSFSDLFJAS;DLKFJSDFK PLS PLS PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT U THINKKKK <33333

taglist: @first-one-that-i-see @harryandthatgayvodka @summertimestyles @bopbopstyles @harrysclementines @emsthoughts @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @clorenafila @harries-gayvodka @dmcupcakexo @glitterwhore @harryspinkshoelace @lovemenowseemenever @happydays @sisters-of-the-mo0n @shut-up-and-smile @fallingslowlyforu @slytherinambitious @moonlightmaliksblog @cocoamoonmalfoy @harryspirate @sunflowers-styles @sunflower6why @harrys-bitch

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undermattsun-archive · 4 years ago

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japan national team x reader | w.c 1.3k

a/n: omg guys here’s the super cute epic collab fic i made w all my frieednsies <33 we all worked superrrr hard on this so pls don’t be mean!!!!!!!!! pls enjoy its xoxox and don’t forget to follow everyone here on this kidnapped by hq collab <33333333333

warnings: not proofread bc who does that xD (guys pls free me from this hell i’m in so much pain i didn’t even look at this i skimmed over it i left it as is, gg)

Read this while lsitening to the best song evar!!!!!!!!!!!1 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_cXhBy78T4&ab_channel=JonasBrothers if you dont listen whil reading ill eat ur family MONCH MONCH MONCH

i go dwnstars, yelling ‘by mum!’ bfor laceing up my wite convrrse hightops (NOT blck becauz u cant sharpi on it) wth 1d lyrics scribbled on it. i rmb to draw a directioner infinite sign on mywrist. perfect, i think to mysdlf.

I never thot i would get to go to the olympics all the way on the other side of the planet in toky o japan! It was a dream come true for a simple, average, run of the mill girrl like me, who is 5’7 with naturally wavy hair, that’s not curly or strait and eyes as blue as the dark blue part of the ocean.

I been dreaming of the olypoics since fetus. I just knew I had to be here, but I never thought it would actually happen. The only thing that would make it better is if I had a smezxy smexy boyfrwend! (A/n: Tee-hee! Maybe even two! (Or five! <333) haha! Aren’t I so quirky? <3)

I’m Wearing A Mint Green Crop Top That Ties In The Front And Some Denim Shorts With Black Converse. I Don’t Need Makeup Because My Skin Is Naturally Smooth And Clear And My Lips Are Already Red #wokeuplikethis And I Listened Only To MCR And P!ATD On The Plane Ride. I Bet You Dont Know Who They Are, THey’re My Favorite Banxds And Are Super GOod And Like Underground Bands. (A/n: Okay But If You Don’t LIke Welcome TO THe BLack Parade GTFO Of My FIc I Don’t Need YOu Here xoxo)

ok so like,, im on my way to the olympics but then like, i get kidnapped !!! the car i was in was like super expensive and i cant see anything with the blindfold on. i hear voices of men all around me though, for like, a whole 30 minutes before they bring me somewhere and tie me up? "Take Her BLindfold off," one of them say, i hear. and im so nervous. but it's like a dream when they tug my blindfold off and im met with the prettiest emerald orbs ever looking back at me.

my stomach knotted in fear (more like an angry swarm of butterflies fluttering around ) i feel like screaming or squealing or both bc those eyes belong to someone so gorgeous . even more gorgeous than harry styles. hes like a god. i woukd so worship his foot. or something. (squee omg i can’t believe this is happening. i bet you wish that it was you huh?)

bro who tf has emerald orbs green eyes im blanking rn

^ yo i was gonna ask i cannot for the life of me remember who

his #afff14 sppheres peered into my soul i really just felt seen. i took a deep breath before fainting he was just so pretty. *one hours later* i woke upa nd saw the pretty viridescent peepers staring into mine. like he was literally two inches away from my face omg i could feel his minty breath on my lips it smelled so good.

“My name is atsumu miya,” he said gruffly, the gruffness in his voice so gravely. “And me and me mates here think yer the most gorgeous girl weve ever seen. I blink up at him, orbs gleaming amd full of tears.

“What do u mean, i’m just a normal quirky girl?” I say shakely, biting my lip. I bit my lip as the piss blond man spoke.

“You don’t know ur beautiful.” YOUR INSECURE DONT KNOW WHAT FOR YOUR TURNING HEADS WHEN YOU WAlk THROUGH THE DO OO OOOOOR

“U may be a normal quirky girl but ur OUR nroaml quirky girl now” his friend said with a deep voice. It was so deep that i almost thot it was like the ocean, he had curly balck hair and his eye were sooo mysterious (a/n i loooove sakusa i can’t believe him and his friends kindapped me omgggg XD)

“Stop it go away” osamu said (hee hee i can never remmber tell which twin is which LOL i think its osamuuu) “no u have to share” sakusa responded angrily. I starred at them and didn’t know what theyd do next!

I looked over to he side ans see sakura pulling out hand sanitizer passing it around to his teamates. The green orbed boys huff as they put it on. i wished i could see his whole face hes so sedy, look over here pretty girl, i gasp pulled from my thoughts by their captain kita walking into the room with his hands on his hips and was theat aran? “You look even better in peroiusn” aran said to me, walking over to me “how do you know who i am?” i ask.

“listen bbygurl...” he yealls, pulling out a chair to sit acros from me. “you dont get to ask the questions, we are your new masters, and you shall do as we say.” i gulp nervously, my stomach feeling like a sharkndao is happening inside. “we hope u will be worth every penny we payed foru.”

“M-m-m-masters?” my head felt like it was spinning in a teacup from disney land as i thought about what he just said to me. what did this mean? was i gooing to miss the olympics?? I wanted ot hate him with his super smug look on his face but i cant deny that he looks kind of hot and i’m into guys who look just like him,, the other guys r also relly attractive it makes my heart race. I look around trying to find answers when i make eye contact w a really really reall y tall guy who i thinks name is gao only to see another really really relly tall guy next to him,, hyakuzawa?

“what are yo going to do to me then?” ((*lenny face))

you ask, stomach bubbling. maybe i shoudnt have ateen that stale pizza earlier and washed it down with watermelon-lemon minute maid because now i felt like it was gonna come up. ((ew gross um tw vomit mention hehe)

“Dont worry were going to grab seme din din soon lil one,” one of them says. His name espapes me. Hes a ginger. They wont answer me for some reason and i suddenly miss my freedom when i would go to school (i go to an expesive private school for rich kids ahahah).

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH ME??” i yell again batting my fists against the ginger but he doesnt even blink. Ive decided hes hot but in a short king kinda way. His hair reminded me of of like cheeto coloured fine thread woven into waves.,,, like the ocean xD (ans...this has an ocean theme)

sudenly there was another voice it was yalling “BOKE HINATA BOKER” i looked with my stricking dark blue orbs and there wasd inother pair of stricking dark blueor bs like the ocean and blck hair. his voicde was veryy deelp an sexxcy (a/n lololol i luv u gakeyama kun *w*)

theres suddenly a loud voice in ur ear screaming directly into ur eardrum " BAKA KAGYEAMA BAKA" (wtf our they communicating ???? ? ) i cringe at the yellign and another pair of strong arms bulls me away . i land against a hard, solid chest, i can feel the six pack thru his track Suit.

and then my alarm clock playin what makes u beatyful goes off n i woke up.

amen.

i rub my eyes wakng up, starrn into the mirror at my super borng brwn ugly eyes and brsh my equaly borng brwn hair. i lok up at m wall and see harey stylz and niallr starinf back at me on t walls. i sigh dreamily. they wud twll me my brwn uairs beatufil.

#i'm gonna kermit #my eyes hurt #my brain is dying #where am i #kidnapped by hq #tw wattpad

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madisonbeersource · 3 years ago

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ahhh i hope your exams go well !! do they end soon? i hope after they end you have a celebration planned, whether it’s going out or doing a spa night 🥂 you deserve to celebrate getting through them !!

oooh moonstone sounds so pretty! do the stones have any meanings or symbolism behind them? also are you a crystal person? i’ve always wanted to know the meanings behind crystals and collect them but i get so overwhelmed and don’t know where to start

i wear three rings, one with a little diamond row and the other two plain and a simple chain necklace daily. also earrings, i have two piercings on each ear and i love the little hoops that fit so snuggly. and all gold ✨ i love gold so much and prefer it for everything. i think bc after i left my fiancé i wanted things that didn’t remind me of the ring he gave me (which was white gold) so i switched over from being a silver person to a gold person and i love it 🤍

also how cute was her live?? the little octopus stuffed animal is so so cute ughhhh i kind of want one now ☹️ but i’m trying to stop spending money until after the holidays are over

andjlslsls listen, i think fake plants are the safer call 🌱 i have never kept a plant alive but i’m determined to keep trying lol i at least want one in my shower, a eucalyptus or something long and hanging

i hope you’re doing well and staying happy and healthy and lovely 🤍🥰

- ☁️ anon

my exams....well went...I never try to be like "oh i killed it" cause everytime i say that i always end up disappointed )): BUT let's say some exams feels better than others! OMG A SPA NIGHT i wish but I actually went back to my parent's for xmas and all that!! wbuu do u stay in NY?

moonstone is my favorite stone I WANTED ONE FOR THE LONGEST TIME and my mom went all the way up to Paris to get it! i love her so much my mom is my favorite human on this planet. NOPE i don't really believe in gems power or energy but I LOVE them cause they're the prettiest !! but i know the symbolism behind them, I like the poetry behind it all!! but i'm a crystal person a lot and honestly the more i have the happiest i get haha it's like books! well start w/ the gemstone or your zodiac sign, it will most likely suits you!

OMG I WISH I HAD MY EAR PIERCED!! i pierced them once but they healed and now they're not pierced no more!! i wish i would like have hoops on my ears i wish my entire ears were pierced like multiple ones! i love gold as well but it does not very much work on my skintone sadly :// but omg what is the story behind it? I MEAN IF YOU EVER WANNA TELL ME PLS DO NOT FEEL OBLIGATED TO!! and gold you rock it for sure!!

YESSS the octopus )): she was the cutest sadly i had to cut it off for the last 20 minutes cause i was SO dead tired but did u watch her live as well?? OMG i wish i could send u one!! as a xmas present

sdfghjjhgfd for me? absolutely lmaooo omg plants attracts spiders and honestly i would rather die than deal w one. OOOO eucalyptus feels calming and reassuring!!

I love u angel please have a beautiful stay and stay like u are cause you're the brightest gemstone of them all 🥰

#ask

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dewykth · 4 years ago

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SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

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barbara-gordons-glasses · 4 years ago

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Alright, since I can’t sleep and I’m bored, I’m going to list a few things that I hate about Tony Stark/RDJ, and his “fans”. If youre a Tony/RDJ fan pls ignore this.

Tony Stark made weapons for the military and only stopped because he was nearly killed and no

It wasn’t because he “felt bad” for those that were actually being harmed by the weapons. It was for his personal benefit

He constantly flirts with and messes with women while dating pepper

In the first IM movie, he made a transphobic joke and in an interview for his Sherlock movie, made a joke about cross-dressing

In AOU he made a rape joke, saying that if he ends up ruling Asgard, he’d reinstall pre minocta (or however you spell it)

He made Ultron, and before you start with the whole “B-b-but Wanda mind raped him!”

Firstly, wtf is mind rape? Really? For anyone who says mind rape y’all need therapy—maybe more so than Wanda

Anyways, he made Ultron and in civil war, had the A U D A C I T Y to say “we need to be put in place” as if it was the avenger’s fault that he created Ultron.

And him being the Rich white dude he was, he knew the accords wouldn’t effect him. He could still break the law without any consequences.

So he a brought a 15 year old child into battle with professionals, lied about his age, and didn’t even tell him the full reason of why he was fighting

Also? He thinks? Him and Steve? Were friends? Last I checked, they couldn’t stand each other, and had a hard time working together

So when he says “I wAs YoUr FrIeNd ToO” uh no. He’s known Bucky for 100 actual years. You guys have known each other for like 2, with 6 month breaks from working together

Homecoming, he completely neglects Peter and passes him off to happy, who ignores him as well

And then takes away the suit because Peter was trying to do his job.

You could give the excuse—“he sent government agents after the vulture!”

Yes. And toomes overpowered them by a lot so that didn’t do anything

Tony says he doesn’t want to end up like his father, but it just as emotionally distant as him

I cant even begin with that one scene in IW when he HAD THE CHANCE TO CALL STEVE AND ASK FOR HELP TO DEFEAT THANOS, BUT DIDNT. OUT OF PURE STUPIDITY AND HIS MASSIVE EGO

AND THEN WHEN HE AND HIS TEAM LOSES, HE’S??? SURPRISED???

LIKE, YEAH DUDE BECAUSE YOU HAVE PETER QUILL ON YOUR TEAM OBSESSING OVER HIS DEAD GIRLFRIEND smh

The endgame scene where he basically yells at Steve for “not being there” knowing full well that if Steve were to come out of hiding, he would’ve been arrested

Has a child five years later and then suddenly on tumblr, he’s “dad of the year” even tho he got like two scene with his kid...I mean...Stan Scott Lang

Him figuring out time travel makes no sense??

How’d he get pym particles of Hank kept his work secretive??

I’m telling you if Shuri hadn’t been dusted away, they wouldn’t have needed tony I stg

Fast forward and now he’s dead, and lemme tell you—it took EVERYTHING not to laugh at their faces.

Scott, Hank, Janet, Hope, Wanda, and Bucky, to be specific.

I mean

HE ALMOST KILLED BUCKY, KILLED WANDA’S ENTRE FAMILY, AND SCOTT JUST HATES HIM

They didn’t even wanna be there lmao

Ok, now that that’s done with, let’s move onto RDJ

I really never liked him as an actor because he has limited range when it comes to characters

By which I mean all of his characters are cocky, smart, “handsome”, and “funny”

They aren’t, but k

But now that he defended Crisp ratt for being a T*umpet supporter and a homophobe, I hate him even more now

And it’s not even because he’s standing up for ratt

It’s because he never showed this type of compassion when his female and cast mates of color were being attacked for their roles

Brie Larson got rape and death threats for being captain marvel, and only wanting more diversity/better pay for herself

Zendaya got hate because she was the first black MJ

Ratt got hate because he attended a homophobic church that supported conversion therapy

Guess which one RDJ defended?

Yup

And not only that but he’s just a really unfunny person. He’s basically Tony Stark and not in a good way

Though there isn’t a good way to be Tony Stark in the first place

NOW onto my favorite part

RDJ/Tony stocks fan club

Or “defense squad” as they call themselves, as if tonky doesn’t have enough defense already, with his suits and all

His fans ignore every flaw about his character and the actor himself

They constantly say how he’s a father figure to Peter, Shuri, nebula, Harley, when really...no

Peter has a father figure—Ben Parker

Shuri already had a father

Nebula didn’t have a good father, but in no means did they interact more than the beginning of endgame

He literally called Harley a p*say for MOURNING OVER HIS ABSENT FATHER

like haha ok Stark you can’t talk

Just because you have your own sob story doesn’t mean you can project that onto others to silence THEIR trauma

And that’s another thing—

His fans claim to say that he “portrays ptsd” more than any other avenger accurately

A C C U R A T E L Y???

Wanda and Pietro?

Steve?

Natasha?

Bucky?

Peter Parker?

Gamora?

Nebula?

Harley?

Literally anyone else but him???

What angers me the most, however, is that people will go as far as to say that Wanda is a nazi b*tch, but...

Not her brother

And I’m being dead serious—no post about “anti-maximoff” ever mentions pietro

Only wanda, as if she were an only child

Well now she is but that wasn’t the point

Their internal mysoginy hurts me both physically and mentally

I’m sorry I made it so long, but if you’d like proof of any of the points I’ve made, I’ll be happy to provide them (;

#antitonystark #anti RDJ #wandamaximoff #mcu #marvel #Peter Parker #Tom Holland #transphobic #antitonystarkstans #procap #captain America #Steve Rogers #no I’m not changing my mind (;#wanda maximoff deserves the world #Wanda maximoff defense squad #Steve Rogers defense squad

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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[teaser] here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend. pairing; jungkook x reader genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, cheating, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, i promise this fic is cuter than it looks, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; est. 18k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

click below to get a super saucy preview! will be released on friyay, september 25th @3PM EST so get ready my lil lovedoves😘😘😘

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #bts fic #jungkook fluff #omfg i love this couple #i say that about all my couples #but i love this one

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worldwidemochiguy · 5 years ago

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hot-spot love

↣ In which Jungkook is a photographer and you accidentally break his favourite camera. Luckily, the only thing he cherishes more than that damn camera happens to be you.

Word Count: 1.7K

a/n: omg i’ve been in such a soft mood recently so like here you go. in reference to the title ‘hot-spot’ is actually a legit photography phrase. this is mostly inspired by this video i saw of a girl pranking her bf and he had a rly cute reaction so.. i made it into a fic!! pls like and reblog if u enjoy it ☺️

my fic masterlist

Hot-spot love

You think this might be the worst day of your life.

It had actually started off relatively well; Jungkook waking you sweetly with a kiss and hugging you from behind as you made breakfast, leaving for work five minutes late because he insisted on helping you wash up the dishes afterwards. He had left you in a productive mood and, before long, you were searching for tasks to complete.

You had cleaned the entirety of the penthouse by lunchtime — not a particularly arduous task considering it was relatively clean anyway — and then took the time to make yourself Samgyeopsal and Japchae for lunch, storing most of it in the refrigerator to have for dinner later. You smiled knowing the Jungkook would be more than excited, given that Samgyeopsal was perhaps his favourite dish of yours.

With a full belly and nothing else to do, you decided to rearrange your and Jungkook’s bedroom. You were half-way through moving the desk-lamp two inches to the left when you spotted Jungkook’s camera. Jungkook had always loved photography, and he told you often that you were his favourite subject, taking delight in the way you would immediately be flustered afterwards. You smiled fondly, picking it up to go through the photos he had taken yesterday when the two of you went on a picnic. But, as you picked it up your fingers involuntarily loosened, and you watched, horrified, as your boyfriend’s camera slipped out of your grip and careened towards the floor.

The broken shutter glass had cut your finger as you attempted to salvage the mess, and now you sit with a steadily reddening tissue wrapped around the gash, waiting on the couch for Jungkook to come back from work.

The sound of the door opening is both a relief and something that causes dread to bubble up within you.

“Babe!” He calls out, and he sounds so happy you almost want to cry, “I’m home!” He comes into the living room, too focused on disentangling himself from his bag to notice your desolate state.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, pressing a distracted kiss to your forehead as he heads to the bedroom to discard his suit jacket.

“Uh huh,” you replied quietly, before letting out a sigh.

Jungkook pauses in the doorway of the bedroom, and then immediately turns back and heads to you, leaning over the back of the couch so you have to look at him upside down.

“Why the sigh, babe?” He questions, worry starting to dilute his dopey grin.

“Sigh?” You ask weakly, trying to deflect. You know you have to tell Jungkook about the camera, but you hate to be the one to make him upset.

“There it is again!” Jungkook exclaimed, before leaning in to place a kiss on your brow. “Your face always gets kind of screwed up when you’re thinking too hard about something.”

You try to smile, but something lodges in your throat and, to your immediate embarrassment, it comes out as a sob. Jungkook is immediately cooing, sweeping around to the front of the couch and sitting down, tugging you into his lap as he frantically tries to wipe away your tears.

“No, no, no, babe, don’t cry!” He whines, “Just tell me what’s wrong and I promise I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

“I broke your camera.” Is what you try to say, but you’re crying so hard you only make it to “I-” and then dissolve into tears again. You bring up your hands to cover your face, not wanting Jungkook to see you like this, when he makes a sharp noise and his fingers close around your wrist, tugging it under for his inspection.

“Your finger!” He gasps, peeling away the stiff tissue paper to reveal your cut. He immediately drags you to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, despite your teary protestations of it’s just a small cut. After wrapping it in an unnecessary amount of bandages and several kisses ‘to make it heal faster’, he leans down to look in your eyes.

“Was that why you were crying, babe?” You can only manage to shake your head, dissolving into tears again. God, Jungkook was being so nice and you were just the worst girlfriend ever.

“Please don’t cry babe.” He softly repeated over and over, stroking his hands along your hair and wiping away your tears, pressing kisses all over your face. “Just tell me, and I’ll make it better.”

“Y-You can’t!” You bawl, before burying your face in your hands again. Jungkook patiently peels back your fingers and presses his forehead to yours.

“I promise you,” he says solemnly, “I will make it ok. You don’t have to worry about anything now I’m here. And I’ll always be here.”

“You promise?” You ask quietly, and he nods, placing a little kiss to the tip of your nose to make you smile.

“I… I broke your camera.” You confess, and then bury your head in his shoulder, waiting for him to start shouting. He has never even raised his voice at you before, but you are worried this will finally set him off.

“…My camera?” He asks, sounding more than slightly confused. You pulled back, confused as well.

“Yes, your camera. The really expensive one that you take with you anytime we go anywhere.”

“Oh…” He trails off, and then, shocking you, he breaks into a massive grin. “Oh! God, babe you’re so cute! That’s what you were worried about?” Jungkook laughed as you gave him a wide-eyed nod, tugging you into his chest again and hugging you tightly. “I’m so relieved! I thought something had happened to you. Oh, you don’t know how glad I am!”

“But, your camera-” You start, your voice muffled in the material of his dress shirt.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He brushes it off flippantly. “I can just take it to the repair shop or something. Can’t lose all those beautiful pictures I took of you, can I?” Your memories flash back to the absolutely shattered camera.

“No, I really broke it. I don’t even think it’s fixable.” At that, Jungkook laughs again, pulling back to grin at you.

“How did you even manage that?” He asks, his eyes bright with amusement but somehow that makes you cry even harder.

“I’m really sorry!” You wail, and he tugs you back into his chest again, his shirt now slightly damp with your tears. Just another one of Jungkook’s possessions that I’ve ruined, you think bleakly.

‘Babe,” he says, sounding heartbroken. “It’s just a camera. Please don’t cry, or I’ll start crying too.” You look up at him and, true to his word, his eyes are turning glassy and sorrowful.

“B-but what about your photos-”

“They were all of you. I’ve got a lifetime of taking photos of you ahead of me, I don’t need to rush.” You can’t help but blush when he says this. Jungkook has never been afraid to state his intention of spending the rest of his life with you, but it still sends a thrill down your spine every time.

“I’ll get a job and save up so I can buy you a new camera.” You resolve, and immediately he’s shaking his head.

“No, no, no, there’s no need at all, babe. I didn’t even like that camera anyway. I was going to pick up a new hobby, I don’t care about the camera. All I care about is you. It’s breaking my heart to see you cry.” He cups your tear-stained cheek in his hand and you lean into it, even as you whack him lightly on the stomach.

“That was so cheesy.” You giggle, and his face mimics your own smile, before smoothing out.

“You’re lovely even when you’re crying.” He mutters, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, tilting it backwards as he leans in and kisses you deeply, trying to convey his love for you. You accept eagerly, and when your injured hand comes up to curl into his hair, you find the cut doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

Later, when the two of you are curled up on the couch finishing off the leftovers of the Samgyeopsal and Japchae — and you were right, Jungkook was practically ecstatic when he saw his dinner — you ask him:

“How much did the camera cost?” He pauses slightly, before answering with a smile.

“You could find one for about ten dollars.”

“Jungkook!” You pout, flicking his forehead lightly. “Please tell me the truth. I know it cost a lot more than that.”

“Ok, ok, I’ll tell you.” He says, before his expression becomes slightly more serious. “It actually cost twenty-five dollars.”

“Jungkook!” You whine, whacking him on the arm with a pillow as he laughs.

“Ok, ok,” He raises a hand up, blocking the pillow, “You’re right, it was actually quite an expensive camera.” Even though he was only confirming what you already knew, you felt fresh guilt wash over you.

“How expensive?”

“Thirty dollars.”

This time, he is ready for the pillow aimed at his face and blocks it, grabbing your wrist and tugging you over so you are trapped in his lap, caged in by his arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Babe, stop asking about it, it doesn’t matter.” He reprimands you playfully, kissing your forehead. “I have more than enough money to replace it, and even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t care. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I have you.” He smiled. “And you’re all I need to be happy. Okay?” He grins at you, and you grin back, feeling the overwhelming love you have for this man somehow double.

“Okay.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and check on my computer. Obviously you have something against my belongings, and I just want to make sure the monitor is salvageable.”

“Jungkook!”

#yandere bts #soft yandere bts #yandere bangtan #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungook #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #soft yandere jungkook #soft yandere

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theladyofdeath · 4 years ago

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In the Bleak midwinter {17}

A Throne of Glass Period AU: 1920s.

Summary: 2 years after Arobynn Hammel is killed by Rowan Whitethorn, Maeve has returned from Eyllwe with a vengeance. Meanwhile, Rowan is getting married, Lorcan is a father, and Lysandra is finally ready to give her heart away. There’s been peace in The Cadre’s Orynth for 2 years, but peace never lasts.

A/N: Coming in close to the end!

All characters belong to SJM. I am no more than a fan with a plot.

**Warning: mature content - language, alcohol use, drug use, sex, murders and shit.

Links & masterlists:

Fanfic Masterlist

Ask me

The Cadre - 1920s AU {TOG}

In the Bleak Midwinter {The Cadre, Part 2}

Aelin didn’t know how long she and Lucy had been in that room, but she knew that she was cold, achy, and terrified. It took a while for Lucy to notice. She was a curious one, and pretty independent, so she could make herself comfortable in most places, especially once they had food. But, now, Aelin was running out of comforting conversation topics to have with a toddler as anxiety and fear thrummed through her veins.

The food they were given hours ago had made her sick, although she tried to keep everything down, for Lucy’s sake. Meanwhile, every horrible outcome of what was taking place outside of the four concrete walls she sat inside had her heart beating faster.

“Ae Ae,” Lucy began, and Aelin looked over at her, trying her best not to cry.

“Yes, Luce?” she replied, quietly.

“Dada,” Lucy whispered, her lip wobbling, but before she could cry, the door was unlocked, and pushed open.

Aelin quickly snatched Lucy up as she stood and held the toddler tightly in her arms.

Cairn stood there, looking as deadpan and serious as ever. “Come with me.”

“Where to?” Aelin asked, not moving a step.

Cairn showed no emotion. “Come with me, or I’ll lock you in here, again. It’s your choice.”

Aelin hated that she didn’t hesitate. Instead, with Lucy in her arms, she followed Cairn out of the little room and through the winding hallways.

The rest of the building wasn’t any better than the little room they had been trapped in. The stone walls continued, and Aelin didn’t feel comforted at all as they followed Cairn through the narrow hallways. Lucy was whining, which didn’t comfort Aelin either. Aelin should have been the one to comfort her but her own nerves were spiraling out of control.

Their walk seemed to last forever, but eventually, they came to a door. Lucy clung to the neckline of Aelin’s dress, and Lucy was grateful for it, it was the only thing that was keeping Aelin connected to reality.

Even though that reality was horrifying.

Cairn pushed open the door and gestured for Aelin to enter. She was smart enough not to fight back or be stubborn, even though she so desperately wanted to both be stubborn and fight back.

Maeve knew it, too, judging by the horrific smile on her red-painted lips as they entered. Aelin, Lucy in her arms, stopped just inside of the door with her chin raised high.

“Mrs. Whitethorn,” Maeve crooned, as Cairn shut the door behind them. “How are you enjoying your stay?”

“Food is shit,” Aelin said, plainly. Lucy’s whines had turned into a silent cry, her face buried into Aelin’s shoulder. “Is my husband on his way?”

Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “To the old train station, yes. In fact, he’ll be leaving that ungodly mansion of yours shortly.”

“Whatever you’re asking him for, he won’t give it to you,” Aelin said, shaking her head, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was wrong. For his wife, and his niece, Rowan would give Maeve whatever she wanted.

As her dark eyes lit up, Aelin knew that she knew it, too.

“I plan to test that theory,” she said, at last, her nails clicking on the hard desktop she sat behind. “Cairn.”

Lucy was being removed from Aelin’s arms before she could even have a second thought. The second she was in Cairn’s arms, she was wailing.

“No!” Aelin cried, taking a step forward to fight for her niece back, but a gun was cocked, and Aelin froze.

Maeve didn’t hesitate as she pointed her pistol at Aelin’s head. “One more step, and you die, which would just be awful for all of us, wouldn’t it?”

Aelin put a protective hand over her stomach, then looked at Lucy, who was being held by Cairn at Maeve’s right hand side. Aelin couldn’t help the tears that lined her eyes as she listened to Lucy cry.

“Edward!”

The door opened and a man Aelin had never seen before entered the room and took Aelin’s arms behind her back.

“Fuck you!” Aelin yelled, spitting at Maeve.

The woman snorted and set her gun down on her desk. Then, she nodded her head, and Aelin was hit in the back of the head, the rest of the world going dark around her.

~~~~~

“They’re late,” Lorcan grumbled, his hands opening and closing at his sides.

Rowan pulled the pocketwatch out of his breast pocket. Lorcan was right. It was two minutes past.

“They’ll be here,” he snapped.

Gavriel stood just behind them, watching the other side of the old abandoned platform, waiting, calmly. Fenrys was there, too, his jaw locked. They had left Aedion at home, watching and waiting in case anything happened there. Lysandra was with him, along with a hysterical Natalia.

Just as Rowan’s patience was running short, he saw them coming. A sleek, black car was driving up, followed by one that was nearly identical. Rowan had no doubt to whom the cars belonged to.

No one moved, no one said a word as those cars pulled up to the other side of the broken tracks.

They waited for a moment, and Rowan was about nearly to combust as the door to the first car opened and Cairn came out. He ascended the platform, and met their gazes as he approached.

Alone.

Before Rowan could open his mouth and spit out a retort, Cairn said, “Maeve sends apologies. She couldn’t make it, she was otherwise occupied.”

“Where are they.” It wasn’t a question, but a demand. Rowan’s voice was low, calm. He didn’t want to even start thinking about where Maeve’s attention was.

“Depends which one you’re asking about,” Cairn replied, simply.

Rowan froze, and it was Lorcan that growled, “Stop dancing around the subject, tell us the fucking conditions so we can get on with it.”

Cairn stared at them, perfectly happy with Lorcan’s outburst. It’s why he let the silence ensue before saying, “Mr. Whitethorn comes with me.”

Gavriel’s shoulders tensed as Fenrys snorted. Lorcan had begun to say no, but Rowan interrupted them all, saying, “And Lucy and Aelin come back?”

“I have Lucy in the car,” Cairn replied, simply, and when he didn’t go on, Rowan asked, “And my wife?”

Cairn just smiled, slowly.

“Well?” Rowan asked, after Cairn said nothing.

“Lucy comes back to you now,” he said, quietly. “Aelin will be sent back to the estate when Rowan is safely delivered to Maeve.”

“No,” Lorcan breathed, even though Rowan knew it hurt him to say it. “We find another way.”

“Lucy needs to be safe now,” Rowan said, quietly. “And Aelin needs to be safe now. I’ll be fine, and I’ll figure something out, but they need to be home, where I know they’re okay.”

Lorcan stilled, but Rowan said, “Bring Lucy to Lorcan and I’ll come willingly.”

“That undoes everything that we’ve fought for so far,” Fenrys muttered.

Rowan closed his eyes, knowing full well he was thinking of Connall. But Rowan wouldn’t have another death on his hands. Not his niece. Not his wife. He was done watching those he loved die, those that his family loved die.

He was over it.

Done.

Cairn waved a hand and the door to the second car was opened. A man in a suit came out, carrying Lucy, who was looking around with big, round eyes. The moment she spotted Lorcan, she began to cry, scream for him, but the second Lorcan took a step toward her, a gun was pointed at him.

So he stilled, and waited, even though it killed him to do so. The second Lucy was in his arms, though, he was clinging onto his daughter for dear life.

“Dada.” She wept his name, and if Rowan had any sort of hesitation, Lucy’s little voice pushed him over the edge. Without looking back at his men, he took a step toward Cairn, then another, and another.

Before anyone could say anything otherwise, Rowan was shoved into a car and being driven away from the abandoned train tracks.

Toward his aunt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mariamuses @garnet-29 @writer-reader-traveller @rowaelin-cressworth @space-buns-arsinoe @negativenesta @empress-ofbloodshed @the-regal-warrior @starseternalnighttriumphant @westofmoon @sammyjojaaaa @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @carbconnoisseur @acer6437 @lorcansalvatearupmyheart @cool-ish-nerd @mynewdreamwasyou @mourning-razorlust @thespiritualrider @rowaelinforeverworld @didsomeonesayviolin @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @queen-of-glass @the-dark-swan @http-itsrebecca @holdingon-21@babycardan @tswaney17 @mollycateoc @chemicha @bat-wing-rhys @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thespiritualrider @luna-the-little @morebooks-pls @shyvioletcat @hermajestyanna @a97girl @stardustsroses @queenofthemoon22 @alifletcher2012 @awkward-avocado-s @faerie-queen-fireheart @cwheart @lovemollywho @emilyrose111294 @nerdperson524 @sleeping-and-books @cursebreaker29 @flora-and-fae @feyrethedarklady @the-dark-swan @rowaelinforeverworld @sjmsstuff @januarystears @mis-lil-red @acourtofmoonlight @rowaelinforeverworld @courtofmaasdestruction @jjellybean @thewayshedreamed @wind-drinker @aelin-rowan-whitehorn @starseternalnighttriumphant @hurema @http-itsrebecca @lorcansalvatearupmyheart @cityofchelsea16 @januarystears @iliketoasterstrudels @lightitup-bryce @yikesitsmaddie @feyrethedarklady @i-love-all-books @keshavomit @sleeping-and-books @scarznstars @http-itsrebecca @cat5313 @moondancer-204 @booklover242 @belamoonbeam @they-call-me-cuatro @b00kworm @mu-si-ca-l @thegayerpotato @abraxos-is-toothless @keshavomit @musicdreamer003 @superspiritfestival @sailorsassley @mymultiversee @alxanxah @viviaannvu123 @mysweetvillain @theghostlyharrypooperfan @highqueenofelfhame @shyvioletcat @maastrash @the-third-me @rinad307

#tacmc itbmw #period au #1920s au #pb au #tog #throne of glass #fanfic

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saviorofunicornsinneed · 3 years ago

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A summarization of the 2012 Avengers fandom:

(To my knowledge obvi because I wasn’t around at that time tho I’m wishing I was…pretty much always)

*clears throat* Okay so—

Everybody lives in Stark Avengers Tower

Natasha knows all (canon tho lbr)

Thor being obsessed with pop tarts (…why?)

Team Bonding

(movie nights, team dinners, paintball, game nights, etc…)

Clint always in the in the vents

(most of the time spying on the main ship’s couple-y moments and reporting-spilling the tea- to ‘Tasha)

Speaking of which-

Calling Nat the nickname ‘Tasha (this one’s cute even tho it what usually just Clint)

But also not just the vents- top of the fridge as well and also a random bookcase for whatever reason..

Steve blushing…a lot

Thor having no concept of regular volume or an ‘inside voice’

(always shouting his sentences and-for whatever reason-always texts with the caps lock on)

Clint & Tony prank wars

Steve’s Puppy Dog EyesTM

Jarvis and Tony being bffs

Main action (in the fic) happening on the team common room

Tony constantly upgrading the other’s suits/gear

(because he cared and didn’t want anything to happen to them 🥺 but shush don’t tell 2012 tony that 🤫)

Natasha just always cleaning/sharpening her knives at the table(subtle threat/reminder she could f u up if you try something? Possibly)

Science bros to the extreme

(like wow some people really stressed that- always having them in the lab when someone couldn’t find them on the other floors)

Steve being the ‘Mom’ of the team

Steve always having to haul Tony out of his lab for team dinner

Bruce being the most comfortable and outspoken with Tony-he let’s that sassy side we all know he’s hiding, out- and especially in the lab (yep, circling back to science bros)

The team trying out the prototypes of Tony’s upgrades on their suits

(sometimes hilarious disasters occur 😆)

Tony always covered in grease(from the lab)

Clint being the only one allowed to do certain things with/to Nat while the others couldn’t and could only wonder how did he not get stabbed for ruffling her hair she would’ve poisoned my coffee if I did that-shut up tony-don’t you tell me she wouldn’t have done the same to you, Capsicle-

Capsicle insult/nickname being a thingTM

Clintasha friendship goals

But also Clintasha being a subtle married ship- making the rest of the team wonder are they together orrr…? (but being to afraid to ask for clarification)

Pepper dropping by weekly to check in on the team

Make sure they haven’t done more damage than the last time she was there

(most of the time PR but it could also be actual physical damage to the tower when they got into a playful argument that escalated)

And she(Pep)always expects Natasha to be better than them and on her side with the exasperated eye-rolls

And she is, mostly

But sometimes, she likes to be in on the fun with her boys

So enter Pepper- who is utterly aghast because et tu, Natasha? 🤭

(Nat-on those occasions- just shrugs and smirks like the badass she is because-unlike the boys-she’s not afraid terrified of Pepper)

(looking at you tony)

Steve calling Pepper, “Ms. Potts” almost religiously

Steve looking up at the ceiling when talking to Jarvis

Tony’s HeightTM

(you guys called him short but I mean he’s literally almost as tall as Steve?? it’s just a few inches 😂😂)

Thor’s All-Speak (wish I had this)

Tony being obsessed with coffee

Like seriously

You guys had him drinking his seventh cup by the first 10 paragraphs

Pepper-or Steve-having to put a limit on how many cups Tones is allowed to have

(and back to nicknames, I love that Tones was one for tony)

Clint&Tony agressively playing Mario Kart with each other

Oh and of course, #Stony❤️🤍💙 was main ship if you’d didn’t do #Pepperony 😜

Those are the main ones that I can remember but tell me if I’m missing stuff pls

(I’ve seen other posts like this and I wanted in *pouts*)

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muwur · 4 years ago

Note

If requests are open.. Suga x reader -3rd year student- where friends to pining where reader is a exchange student mid year -parent’s job- and reader is new to the school, can barely communicate Japanese and is too shy to meet new people.. reader is welcomed as a co-manager for vb club and all the other boys adopt her has their sister. She tutors them in their English lesson too.. also how would Suga help her open up from her shyness..

request: sugawara x fem! reader who is a shy exchange student!

another beginning.

✩ one-shot ✩ for sugawara bb

❧ fem reader

✎ 4.9k words

a/n: FINALLY GOT THIS BBY DONE, ty for being patient requester <3 i hope its ok, lmk if u would like smth different!

also curious but do yall listen to music when you write or read? i dnt always but when i DO i listen to some boppy music so i can shake mah ass (unles im depresso AHAHA) LMAO rec me some pls--

send me asks--

current listen: juicy by doja cat, gasolina by daddy yankee, 11 PM by maluma

A pencil dangled between two of your fingers, gently swinging back and forth as you tapped the eraser’s tip against your chin in thought. Looking over Hinata’s shoulder at the worksheet laying on the table, you extended your hand and made a neat scrawl on the page. “That’s good translating, Hinata! However,” you dragged your pencil across the surface, marking a line and arrow to point at a space near the beginning of his sentence, “keep in mind that although gerunds look like verbs, they act as nouns. So, this word should go here.”

Yachi, who was seated to your right, nodded in agreement. “I looked through his notes doodles, and it looked like they were going over gerunds in class!”

With narrowed eyes, Hinata scanned the page, muttering the sentence underneath his breath. Suddenly, his hazel eyes lit up in understanding and his lips morphed into a round “O.” “Ohhhh, that make a lot more sense! Thanks, (y/n), you’re a big help, especially in English! Also, look, guys!”

He rummaged through his cluttered backpack and fished out a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper with a red “14/50” marked on the top right corner. Holding it up proudly, he declared, “I got a better score than last time! By nine points!”

“That’s still an F,” Tsukishima pointed out, eyes glued to the pages of the book he was reading. Yamaguchi and Kageyama tried to stifle their snickers.

“Y-You’re not even looking!” Hinata defended. The ginger was met with a shrug. “I don’t need to see the score to know you failed.”

Before any fighting could break out, however, the door swung open, revealing the remaining third-years. Bags of snacks in their arms, the four of them stepped in. “We’re back! Your parent/guardian let us in, (y/n),” Sugawara announced, setting his bag down on the table. The rest followed suit and set the goodies down. Rummaging through one of the bags, Daichi pulled out a meat bun.

“Hinata, here’s your meat bun,” he said, handing the snack to the excited first-year, who had long-forgotten Tsukishima’s snide remark about his lack of intellectual aptitude. Kiyoko offered Kageyama his milk, the slight brush of their hands being enough to stir Noya and Tanaka into an envious craze. Asahi tried to settle them down, nervously reminding them that they needed to act respectful in your home, especially after your family had agreed to let you all study there. You stifled a giggle as Sugawara and Daichi joined in, scolding their underclassmen for their poor behavior and threatening them with a time-out.

With an exasperated sigh, Sugawara took a seat next to you on the mat. “Ah, I can’t help but worry about how Ennoshita’s going to handle both of them on his own.”

Giving a sidelong glance to the second-year, who was now forcing Noya and Tanaka to complete timed practice problems, your lips formed a small smile. “Looks like he does a pretty good job at it, though.”

Sugawara let out an amused huff. “Guess I’m worried over nothing. Oh, also,” he dug into the plastic bag in front of him, taking out your favorite snack and offering it to you. “Here you go.”

(can u tell from my stories yet that fav snacks aka actions are my love language--)

“Oh, thank you, Suga, I didn’t even ask for this…” you flashed him a grateful smile and took the package from his hands, suppressing the blush that threatened to overcome your cheeks as your fingertips brushed. He gave a sheepish smile and glanced to the side in response, giving the back of his neck an anxious rub.

“Ah, it’s the least I could do to thank you for letting us all come over to study. It’s really helpful. I appreciate it, (y/n).”

“It’s not much, really. I’m more than glad to help you all (read: Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, and Noya) out with English and offer my place. Having everyone together makes it easier. They need to pass these exams so you all get to play.”

Your offer to help the team with their studies may have seemed a simple gesture as both their friend and co-manager. On the inside, however, you really were more than happy to have everyone over for whatever reason. It left you with a feeling of awe. The last thing you would’ve expected 3 months ago was to be sitting in your new home in Japan, surrounded by a group of people who accepted you despite your poor Japanese and late appearance to Karasuno. Just 4 months ago, after you learned about your parent/guardian’s job transfer to Japan, you were left feeling an array of mixed feelings:

Anxiety – a whole new country? With a language you could barely even speak or understand? How was that going to work? Could you even make friends at school? God knows how long it took you to make the friends you have now.

Disappointment – you were looking forward to graduating high school with the friends you’ve made throughout the past few years. Having to say goodbye would be difficult, and you’d miss them.

Yet, you felt a sliver of hopefulness – new experiences were waiting for you. You had the opportunity to lead a new life in a foreign place. It filled you both with fear and exhilaration.

On the night before your first day at Karasuno, you could barely sleep after spending hours religiously practicing how to introduce yourself in Japanese. Having to introduce yourself to the class and speaking with your new classmates was inevitable, after all. And so the next day, you found yourself standing in front of the classroom, trying to suppress the nervous shudder that threatened to rack your body and ignore the prickles of sweat on your palms. Despite how much you mentally recited your introduction that morning, your current situation left your mind blank, unable to conjure any words. Fueled by the awkward silence, the numerous gazes focused on you, and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, what came out was a quiet, jumbled form of what you intended to say.

“Hello, (y/n) (l/n). I’m (insert your original country name here). I can’t Japanese, but I hope friends. Everyone, nice to meet,” you bowed, both in respect and so that you could hide your face, which was red from embarrassment. You knew you messed up, but you pretended otherwise, hoping that nobody would point out your mistake.

You straightened up after a few moments of silence, registering the confused looks of your new classmates and feeling another stab of shame. In response to your introduction, the teacher raised her eyebrows and blinked in confusion. Then her eyes warmed, and she offered you a smile as she spoke up. “Class, this is (l/n) (y/n). She recently moved here from (insert OG country here). She’s still learning Japanese; however, her English is perfect, so I’m sure you can all learn something from each other. Please make her feel welcome. Your seat is over there, (l/n).”

Shoulders sagging, you made your way to your desk, avoiding eye contact despite the pairs of eyes that followed you to your seat. Focusing on the lecture was a struggle. Not only could you barely understand anything the teacher was saying; worries about how the rest of the day would go also flooded your mind. This was only the morning; how could you navigate your way through the halls? Ask for directions? Would you meet people? Where would you eat lunch? How could you survive?

The remainder of the classes went by gruesomely slow. Too embarrassed from your slip this morning and too shy to meet new people despite wanting to make a friend, you successfully dodged conversation with any of your classmates. You were relieved that finally lunch came by, yet that presented another problem. You weren’t sure where to go, but you were sure that you were going to eat by yourself.

After a few minutes of walking around the hallways, you settled for eating lunch in the classroom. At least it meant you didn’t have to rush to class after the bell rang. Taking a seat, you pulled out your boxed lunch and set it out in front of you. Painfully aware of how alone you must have looked, you pretended to look really interested in your meal (am i the only one or--). You poked it, broke it into pieces, then brought each sliver to your mouth and chewed slowly. If only your family had switched your phone plans earlier, then you could at least spend time scrolling the internet or lament to your friends back home about how your day was going.

Still “engrossed” in your meal, you failed to notice a figure standing in front of your desk. Only after you saw a hand situate itself on the edge of your desk did you look up.

You met the chestnut eyes of a boy. He bore a warm smile that made a small crinkle in his eyes and beauty mark. Strands of grey hair draped naturally in front of his eyes and framed the sides of his face. Despite your unease, his soft features helped to calm your racing heart and mind. He seemed a friendly person; after all, he was able to approach you.

“Hey, you’re (l/n), right? I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga. I’m in your class,” he introduced in pretty darn good English.

‘Man, that means he heard me this morning…’ you thought miserably. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some relief. Perhaps you hadn’t given others or yourself much of a chance before jumping to the conclusion that you were incapable of meeting new people.

Clearing your throat, you shyly extended a hand to him in greeting. “Yes, I’m (y/n) (l/n). Call me (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Suga,” you replied hesitantly, finally using the correct words in Japanese that you had been practicing the previous night.

Shaking your hand, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Your Japanese sounds pretty good! You just moved, so you’re still learning, right? How about I help you improve that while you help me with English?”

You were about to nod eagerly in appreciation when you both overheard some snickering across the room. Two boys and a girl sat together, whispering quite loudly and sneaking oh-so-inconspicuous glances over at your desk. Taking notice that they were caught staring, they presumed to loudly munch on their meals and talk about the weather.

Suga only shot them annoyed glare and shook his head before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, those are my… Friends.” The strain in his voice after saying that last word made you question if they really were on friendly terms.

After that day, you found yourself spending every lunch period with Suga and his other third-year friends Daichi, Asahi, and Shimizu. You initially felt unsure of how to talk to them, but after Sugawara’s efforts to include you in his circle and some reassuring words about being yourself and not letting a small, temporary language barrier hold you back from making friends, you earned a bit of confidence. While you spoke a hybrid of English and Japanese with them, you eventually managed to pick up a lot of Japanese from talking everyday, and after these few months of constant exposure, you were able to hold decent conversations. Additionally, the extra help you sought from the teaching staff allowed you to be able to keep up in class, and your instructors were understanding enough to give you some leniency on your assignments during this adjustment period.

Hanging around your new friends often, it was only a matter of time before you were introduced to the rest of Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team. It occurred one lunch period three weeks after you first arrived, when Asahi suggested that you join some club activities. You were discouraged, however, considering that it was already halfway through the year, you didn’t know enough Japanese yet to converse with just anyone, and you were a tad shy, which made joining clubs a bit difficult. At that moment, your new friends all made eye contact with each other, then looked at you.

“Why not join our volleyball club?” Suga asked. “Shimizu could always use the help. She’s our only student manager.”

Shimizu nodded in agreement, her blue gaze soft. “Your help would be really appreciated. There’s a lot to this job, so having someone to split the work with would be relieving. You can also help me look for someone to take my place when we graduate.”

Later that day you found yourself in the gym being blocked by Sugawara, who was protecting you from two crazed boys whose collars were held back by Daichi. A ginger-haired boy looked at you with curiosity, excitedly introducing himself as Hinata and pointing out the names of the other members on the court (“This is ‘Bakageyama’ and that guy’s ‘Four-eyed Jerk Face’—").

Upon their release (which was granted only after they promised to behave), Tanaka and Noya dashed over to you, tears in their eyes as they held your hands and expressed their gratitude for your presence. “Oh, (y/n), you kind soul, helping Shimizu with the managerial work. Better yet, now we have two cute girls to support us, this is amazing!”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting with your new friends in your living room and feeling grateful for their vibrant personalities, kindness, and acceptance. You couldn’t have asked for a better batch of friends to end your year with. Though, you were most grateful to Sugawara. If not for him, the last several months of your highschool experience may have gone by miserably, with nothing special to note and no new friends to celebrate with. His gentle, understanding nature had done nothing but support you and make you feel welcome. He helped introduce you to a new, comfortable life you had trouble imagining before your arrival to Japan. He dispelled your doubts and fears, instilling in you a newfound confidence in your abilities. It certainly helped that the team was just as supportive and patient with you.

You could recount the events of the past few months that brought warmth to your heart. These people were growing on you, making you feel like you could be yourself more each day. Daichi provided you a sense of security and leadership. Asahi was empathetic, quick to detect your feelings of uneasiness and asking you if you were okay. Shimizu made sure to make you feel welcome as a friend and fellow manager, even inviting you to a café over the weekend to brainstorm ideas on recruiting a replacement (who you both later discovered to be Yachi) and try out some desserts. Tanaka and Noya tried to teach you all the Japanese curse words they knew, initially lying to you about their meanings so they could see the rest of the team’s reactions when you would blurt things out in the middle of practice (Let’s just say that Daichi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Tsukki knew whose fault this was, and Asahi was real shook hearing a string of curse words from your mouth while you sat there, no ill intent emanating from you whatsoever). Ennoshita gave you a comforting, easygoing presence. Tsukki was… Tsukki (LOL). But he could carry on a conversation, often genuinely interested whenever you talked about the culture back in (other country). And you knew he was soft. Hinata was a burst of energy, and you found his bickering with Tsukishima and Kageyama silly and quite precious. You often stayed with Yachi to toss balls to Kageyama late at night, much to his appreciation. Yachi and Yamaguchi were some of the biggest sweethearts on the team, and all you could think about was needing to protect them.

There was definitely something different in your interactions with Sugawara, though. You found yourself closest to him out of everyone. It may have been because he was the first you talked to, or maybe it was because he was one of the most easygoing people you’ve ever met. That, and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. You wanted to know more about him.

Sugawara chuckled in response. “I suppose you’re right. We wouldn’t have made it this far without everyone,” he said softly, a tinge of fondness showing in his brown eyes. He proceeded to take out his schoolwork and pen, resting his chin in his palm as he read the words across the page of his assignment. Occasionally, you glanced over at him, admiring the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and how his hair brushed his cheeks whenever his head shifted in its position. How the grey tips of lashes kissed his bottom eyelids with each flutter of his chocolate hues. You even took a mental note that his lips, currently pursed in thought, were rather smooth and full in appearance.

A rogue thought about how those lips would feel against your own flitted across your mind. It brought a small pang to your chest, and you had to mentally slap yourself back into reality. You noticed these new feelings were starting to become more prevalent the longer you hung around Sugawara. You consulted your friends back home about it, and in their excitement, they insisted you had a crush on this guy (and demanded photos). Heart palpitations, heat-flooded cheeks, covert glances, and a desire for closeness in all aspects possible? All symptoms of infatuation, your personal love doctors concluded. You recalled when these signs first appeared about a month ago, after he offered to walk you home when practice had gone late into the night. Initially you declined, not wanting him to go out of his way when it was already dark outside. However, after seeing the soft look in his eyes as he declared he wanted to ensure you got home safely and that he didn’t mind the walk, your heart couldn’t help but give in and agree.

It was a tranquil night, accompanied only by the sound of crickets chirping and a cool, whispy breeze. About 15 minutes after having left campus, you were both seated on an aged bench at a small park, snacking on recent convenience store purchases to satisfy your growling stomachs. A comfortable silence settled in the air. The nightly surroundings were illuminated by the gentle glow of several nearby lampposts and stars that burned lightyears away.

Your gaze followed the tracks of a small bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of your feet. It skittered soundlessly against the pavement, eventually disappearing in the security of a bush. A gentle sigh took hold of your attention, and your eyes flickered over to your friend, who was peering up at the star-dusted evening sky.

“Do you know what you’re doing after graduation?” he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You shook your head. “No clue, to be honest. You?”

He pursed his lips and took a sidelong glance at you before focusing back upwards. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a teacher…”

“Seems fitting. Your Japanese lessons have been really helpful,” you pointed out, smiling.

The tips of his lips curved upwards as well. “Really? I’m glad. You’ve improved a lot, too. You’re a quick learner.”

“Heh, well I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another comfortable silence fell upon you two before he spoke again. “I was thinking about how to keep in touch with everyone after we left, and how it’s a shame we’re leaving so soon after you arrived. I would’ve liked to know you better, too, but there’s only a few months left...”

His genuine words left a rosy tinge on your cheeks. As you were thinking of a response, you looked down, noticing how close your hand lay next to his. Heartrate quickening, you stammered, “Y-Yeah, I wish we had more time, too.. T-To hang around each other, I mean. But graduation doesn’t have to mean goodbye, right?”

“That’s true... You always know just what to say, you know that, (y/n)?” he turned his gaze on you and held out an extended pinky. “Promise to talk to me after graduating, then?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and huffed in amusement. Taking your own pinky and intertwining it with his, you nodded. “So long as you keep your end of the promise, too.”

“Of course.”

Sugawara’s voice brought you out of your momentary flashback. “(Y/n)? Can I ask you a question?”

Blinking your previous thoughts away and calming the warmth on your cheeks, you responded, “What’s up?”

He slid his assignment closer to you, pointing at a section he was having trouble with. “Here. I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly..”

You leaned in, scooching towards him and closing in on the gap between you. Focused on the homework, you failed to notice how the brush of your shoulders made Sugawara’s body stiffen slightly. With your proximity, your scent easily wafted to his nose, and he could observe the closer details of your appearance. The hair tucked behind your ear exposed your cheekbone, looking soft to the touch. Your determined hues scanned the page, and he could visualize your thinking through your small, occasional self-nods. You looked cute and comfortable in the casual hoodie you wore, bringing him a strange, mixed sense of bashfulness and ease. His mind wandered, trying to envision how you would look if you wore any of his jackets, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of your sweet voice and scribbles against paper.

“It sounds great, Suga! I just made a note there on how you can fix it; otherwise, it should be okay,” you gave him a reassuring smile as you slid his work back to him. You, however, didn’t shift back to your original position and instead stayed seated mere inches from the boy. Not that he minded, but…

“O-Oh, alright, thanks!”

It made concentrating during the rest of the study session a little difficult.

Occasionally you did get up, helping mostly the first and second years with some of their English assignments. His eyes would secretly (but c’mon, everyone but Hinata and Kageyama could tell) follow your figure, admiring the way you looked as you interacted happily with the others and did whatever you could to assist them. Yet you always returned to the same spot, near Suga. Close enough that everyone else on the team took notice (if they haven’t already), relayed the information via mental telephone, and secretly agreed to depart a bit earlier than they had anticipated.

“Oh, you guys are leaving already?” you asked everyone as they were packing up their belongings.

They all nodded in response, offering up their reasons for leaving earlier than the original time you set, which ranged from, “My parents wanted me home for dinner” to “My sister’s wasted and locked out of the house, nobody’s home—” (u good der Saeko)

Standing at your doorway, you waved to your friends, sending them off with a “I’ll see you at school!” as they waved back and filed out of your home. Looking over to Suga, who was still standing beside you, you wondered, “Oh, you’re staying?”

“Oh, yeah! I was surprised to see everyone leave so soon, but I was planning to head home in another hour. B-But I can go now if you need me to..!” he answered a bit shakily, waving around his hands in small, bashful gestures.

You shook your head and you waved your hand dismissively. “It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you need to.”

Settled back in the common area, you both tried to resume your schoolwork, but to no avail. Groaning, you leaned back, using your arms to support you from behind. “I’m tired of workingggggg.”

He sighed in agreement, resting an elbow on the table and propping up his head in a closed fist. “Same. Do you want to do something else?”

“Hmm..” you pondered aloud. “Do you want to see my room?”

Shrugging and responding with a “why not?”, you both stood up, leaving the common area to go to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, Suga closely trailing behind you.

“Welcome to my room. Make yourself cozy,” you insisted as you sat on your bed and pat the spot next to you. He took your offer, taking a seat beside you and looking around your bedroom in curiosity.

“Something about this place really seems like you, (y/n).”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. “Is it the messy pile of clothes in that basket or the neat desk I cleaned up this morning?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you could say those are part of it. I just meant there’s a lot to you that you should feel comfortable sharing with others. People are complex and there’s so many sides to a person we discover along the way. I remember how timid you were in our first weeks of knowing each other, and now you’re getting along great with everyone and work hard to improve everyday. You were able to overcome a stressful repeat of entering highschool, but this time in another country, and adapted just fine! Your kindness and determination is admirable.”

Twiddling with your fingers, you felt a sheepish grin form on your face. “Aha, you’re too kind, Suga. You know I couldn’t have made these friends or adjust so well without your help. I was too worried about talking to anyone until you came up to me, so… Thank you.”

You risked a glance towards the boy, finding his chocolate gaze already set on you. If none of your interactions in the past month had set your heart ablaze, then certainly this moment would take the cake. Sugawara’s eyes flickered downwards briefly in a moment of hesitance, then locked again onto yours with a hint of an undetectable emotion lurking behind those irises. Neither of you could bring up any words to say. The only sounds present were the soft hums of your breathing and the low creak of your bed as you found yourselves shifting your weight in order to inch closer to one another.

His mind flooded with a cacophony of emotions, from crippling nervousness to an allure for risk-taking. He could barely come to terms with the current situation and what might happen. Maybe he was overthinking it. Surely being this close face-to-face with someone who you just happen to like doesn’t automatically mean they like you back and want to kiss you just as much. Perhaps you were just leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder; after all, you did seem tired from the events of today. Or, you were scooting close for a better look at his face so you could point out, “hey, you got a little something on your face.” Perhaps a crumb from the cracker he had earlier?

But when he took note of the way your eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes caressing the tops of your dusted cheeks, his doubts began to waver. Maybe this was the chance he’s been seeking out lately. Once Daichi deciphered Sugawara’s affections for you, eventually the whole team found out and began to silently root for him. Thankfully, despite their blatant attempts to help him out, you hadn’t noticed a thing. It made him wonder whether you were oblivious, or just didn’t like him, or both. However, in this moment, when it appeared as though maybe you returned his feelings, he felt he should—as Tanaka would say—shoot his shot.

A sudden knock on the door sent you both jumping 5 feet away from each other. Frazzled and wide-eyed, you choked out a weak, “H-Hello?” in response to the interruption. The door opened, revealing your parent/guardian, who peeked inside.

“Dinner’s ready. Would you like to stay and have it with us?” they were asking Suga.

Heart still racing from the fear that gripped it, he blinked in surprise. He piped out a polite no thank you, reasoning that he didn’t want to intrude.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you. Come soon.”

They closed the door and left, leaving you two in an awkward silence that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cough. “We should, uh, get going…”

Standing up, you reached for the door with Suga in tow. The tension in the air remained between the two of you throughout dinner. Nevertheless, Sugawara was able to leave a good impression on your family by being a good conversationalist, even earning a few laughs from your parent/guardian. It made your heart swell at how natural it was for him to be able to get along with others.

After dinner ended and he packed his things, you stepped outside with him to send him off, closing the door behind you. He was about to salute you with a “thanks for having me over” when you gave him a peck on the cheek so sudden that he didn’t have time to react before you were already making your way back into your house.

“Thanks for coming, Suga! I’ll see you at school! Let me know when you get home!” you exclaimed animatedly, shutting the door quickly to hide your embarrassment from your sudden actions. You leaned your back against it, instantly regretting what you did with tightly shut eyes. ‘Oh gawd how am I gonna face him at school tomorrow dhefjkg.’

But on the other side of the door, Suga stood dumbfounded, hovering a hand over the area your lips had touch. Though highly embarrassed, he felt a rush of elation pass over him like a humongous wave that never stopped crashing against the shores.

He was starting to really think it was a good idea to introduce himself to the cute new girl in class. Nice one, Suga.

#haikyuu x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader oneshots #hq reader insert #haikyuu reader insert #requests

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