#and now you are nearly as old as her <333 love u | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sebstanseabass · 3 years

Text

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 10

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support and feedback! I'm so glad you're enjoying this fanfic <333 Feel free to like, reblog and comment. Would love to hear more of your thoughts! Love u guys <3

CHAPTER TEN

Just like last time he was here, Bucky grabbed some cereal box, poured the contents on a bowl followed by a tall glass of milk dumped over, making a mess on the kitchen island like a ten-year-old kid. You just finished changing into some new clothes when he finished pouring the milk in the bowl.

You followed into the kitchen, pouring yourself a hot cup of coffee from Peter's new coffee maker he got just two weeks ago and cleaned the mess that Bucky had left.

"How is it," you started just as he was about to walk out, "that you can flawlessly make a drink without making a huge mess but not with a cereal?"

He plopped down on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. He shrugged in response, eating a mouthful. "I was just trying to impress you. You're Peter's best friend. I want you to like me."

You just hummed and sat down on the love seat as soon as you finished, lifting your knee to your chest and letting the warm liquid slide at the back of your throat, letting the caffeine sit in me. You gave him no response as you didn't know what else to tell him. You just gazed at him, watching him like a hawk, as he continued to take a mouthful.

But you weren't staring at him like you did before. You were, somehow, trying to read his mind because the person sitting right now on your couch felt and looked so much different from the person who kept giving you lingering stares at the bar. One moment he was complimenting your photos, and the next your face. It felt like there were two of him and you didn't know which one attracted you more.

No one had ever looked at your photos the way he did. No one had ever talked about your photos the way he did. And no one had ever succeeded in getting a sudden yet fleeting internal reaction from you by calling you "doll."

"It's rude to stare, doll."

Except Bucky.

You apologized, and averted your gaze from him towards the television screen which showed the news channel. You took a huge sip of your coffee and ignored the searing pain of the hot liquid on the roof of your mouth. That's gonna leave a mark.

You hibernated inside your room for the next few hours, watching some sitcom on your laptop. You would hear Bucky yelling at the television screen from time to time or into his phone. Some names unfamiliar to you were mentioned. You hated the feeling of isolating yourself from the world but here you were, cocooning because you didn't know how else to be around Bucky after what happened that one night.

Plus, it felt like you were a child stuck with your babysitter.

He would knock on your door, check up on you, ask you if you needed some snacks, or if you wanted to do anything else besides locking yourself up in your room. The last time he called out for you, he was asking you to lunch, to the little Italian place across the building. Starving, you agreed to come with him only if he paid.

He just shook his head with a smile on his face. "I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

"I am." You said, locking the apartment door behind. "It's not like everyday I'm out with a rich guy."

"You gotta stop calling me that. I'm not rich rich."

"Compared to me, Buck," you said, "you are. Come on, let's go, I'm starving."

Just as you anticipated, Marco was beaming at you two once you entered his place, clearing a way for you, parting the customers like Moses did with the Red Sea. He pulled out two chairs for you and Bucky. Marco, as you assumed, was more than happy to see Bucky and more of his money. Bucky shook hands with Marco, thanking him.

Once you ordered, you turned towards Bucky who was busy looking at the photos of the gorgeous places in Italy on the walls. There was a bridge of silence between you as you continued to stare at him, still trying to read him. He may be an open book but it felt like his pages were complete blanks. Pages that were deep, far away from the cover, hidden and hoping to never see the light of day.

"Hey, Bucky?" you said, grabbing his attention. "What did you mean that night? When you told me I was something else? And please, don't give me one of those 'you're not like most girls' crap." You gave a snort of disgust.

He chuckled, biting the inner part of his lower lip before speaking. "I wasn't, anyway. You just intrigue me, that's all."

You subtly glance at him. "I intrigue you?"

"Yes, honestly you do. And you're fun to be with. It's not everyday someone agrees with me to scare off a one night stand the first day we meet." He laughed. "And I would like to get to know you better. And not just here."

You knitted your brows together in utter confusion. "Wait, what do you mean not just here?"

He shrugged, his eyes leaving yours and looked at somewhere else besides you. "Like outside."

"Like outside?" You repeated, the realization dawning on you. "Bucky, are you asking me out on a date?"

Bucky lifted his head and proceeded to look at the spotty ceiling, his lips curved downward. "If you want it to be."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Then, he shot his head towards you, an agonizing frown marring his perfectly chiseled face. "Why not?"

You could think of many reasons why it would be a bad idea. First, you haven't been on a date for a very long time. Every person who had asked you out never had the luck of receiving a good answer from you. Second, Bucky was a complicated man.

And third, it would feel like betraying Peter.

"You're Peter's stepbrother." You sighed, defeated. "I can't do that to him."

"Right. Peter."

Marco came just about damn time to give you your newly-cooked food. Bucky ordered the same thing he got last time he was here: an Aglio Oglio pasta, paired with two large slices of pizza and garlic bread while you got a footlong Italian sub dripping with Marco's secret family sauce he never dared reveal. Marco said something in Italian before going back to the counter to tend to other customers.

Bucky smiled at you before you started digging in and began to speak. "How about this? Just two friends hanging out, not in the apartment, not here, not even at the bar, and getting to know one another. No funny business. Just like this. How does that sound?"

"As long as you promise not to give me those weird creepy stares you've been giving me since last night."

"Please, you also couldn't keep your eyes off me." He rolled his eyes. "Plus, I do have to admit you do look hot making drinks." He scrunched up his nose, taking a bite of his pizza without his eyes leaving yours.

A wave of confidence surged right through you, prompting you to ask this next question: "Did the whole cleavage thing push things?" You winked.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, just like he did this morning in the apartment, swallowing his food. "I'm not gonna lie, doll, that was also pretty hot."

"You should thank my friend Nat for that then."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to. So, uh, are you in?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I don't know how you kids these days ask things. Is it like that? I feel like it is."

You rolled your eyes, chucking a piece of garlic bread to his face. "I'm not a kid. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine next month."

"Thirty-nine." You repeated. "Wow, if we were to go on a date, you'd be the oldest guy I've dated."

"Well, I'd be honored."

After your little lunch, Bucky went back to his office in his penthouse to deal with a few things with his associates while you, on the other hand, headed to the bar and started to fix all the stuff accordingly. A few hours later, Nick and Nat silently creeped up behind you, scaring the shit out of you and nearly making you drop the bottle of whiskey you were holding. You scolded both of them which they just, in turn, shrugged off.

You pulled Nat into one of the booths, making sure you were out of Nick's sight and wouldn't be able to hear you.

"Bucky kind of asked me out on a date." You whispered.

"Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he has the hots for you!" She said with a voice louder than you would've liked.

"Sshh, keep your voice down! I don't want Nick to hear this."

"Oh right, 'cause of the whole thing."

"Yes." You replied. "So anyway, I told Bucky it wouldn't be a good idea because it feels like I'm betraying Parker."

"He's just his stepbrother. Honey, you wouldn't be betraying anyone at all."

"But Parker's my best friend -- "

"Exactly." Nat's eyes bore into yours. "He's just your best friend, not your boyfriend so go date whoever you want to date. Just not Nick. He's kind of a loser."

"Isn't there some kind of code?"

"Like a bro code?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Did you and Peter have an agreement that you shouldn't date his stepbrother?"

You shook your head no.

"Then it's okay."

"Isn't dating your friend's siblings a part of some unspoken rule?"

She rolled her eyes at you, obviously fed up with all the excuses you have been trying to make. "As long as you're not hurting anyone then it's fine."

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. "Well, Bucky seemed to kind of agree to it, so what was supposed to be a date turned into just friends hanging out and getting to know each other. His words, not mine."

"Right, and once you get to know each other, you two can go on expensive dates and such."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Now, now, don't be too sudden with that thought. Deep down you kind of want this to happen. If you didn't, you wouldn't be having second thoughts about this."

Oh, what you would give to prove Nat wrong but there was nothing else you could give because you knew she was right. You were fleetingly staring at Bucky as much as he did with you. And right from the get-go, there was spontaneity which opened up a whole new thrill in you. Something you never thought you'd ever feel.

The rest of the night felt excruciatingly slow.

There were some familiar faces in the crowd and some unfamiliar ones brought in by the regulars, having fun on Saturday night. While you were taking orders and making drinks left and right, your eyes kept roaming in the nameless faces inside the bar, hoping to see Bucky but your hopes were crushed when you found no sign of him. You were forced to take your mind off him for once as you were flooded with more orders, and complicated drinks that weren't on the menu. In the middle of your shift, there was even a small argument between a college student and a man in his thirties at the pool table. Eventually, the man, assaulting the poor boy, got kicked out of the house by Steve which was just a piece of cake with all the muscles he was packing.

Steve approached you with a stern look on his face. "If you see that guy again, don't let him in anymore alright? I don't want any fights in my bar."

"Got it." You said, taking note of the man's face from earlier. You warned the other bartenders beside you and the waitresses going around. You sighed, thinking to all the times you've told Steve to hire bouncers for the place but he just said:

"What do you need bouncers for when I'm here?"

And it was kind of hard to argue with that because it did make sense. The only problem was he was always cooped up in that small office of his. You never bothered to learn the secrets he was keeping in there. He couldn't always be doing work stuff. But after a few weeks of working with him, it was best to let those things slide as he was your boss.

Once your shift ended, you texted Bucky where he was but you never got a reply. You exchanged numbers right before he went back to the White Wolf.

You were greeted by an unlocked apartment once you got there but there was no sign of Bucky.

"Bucky?" You called out his name as you removed your jacket and placed it on the coat rack just beside the door. "Are you here?"

Silence answered you back. You went into your room and changed your shirt into something a bit more comfortable: an oversized sweater. A few seconds after you changed, you received a message from Bucky telling you to go to the rooftop.

You immediately went up, the chilly New York air touching your cheeks. You emerged from the ladder with a bewildered look crossing your face. The once grimy floor of the rooftop was perfectly cleaned up, leaving no dust and dirt behind. There were two large crates in the middle, big enough for two people to sit on. On top of the crate were a large box of pizza (you assumed it was from Marco's), and two bottles of ice cold beer.

"What on earth?" You gasped, finding Bucky emerging from behind a big box just casually standing against the brick walls.

"Hey, doll." He greeted you with a cheeky smile.

You stepped towards him, enveloping yourself in a hug in an attempt to warm yourself up against the cool air. "Did you clean our rooftop?"

"I may or may not have. Who knows? Anyway, I got us some pizza. I figured you were hungry from your late shift."

As a matter of fact, you really were. Drained from the endless orders and demands, you usually didn't have the time to sneak a bite of food or even a sip of water.

"I got the pizza from Marco's. He's a really nice man and was more than glad to see me when I stopped by."

"Of course he was." you laughed, sitting down on one of the crates. You opened the box, your mouth already drooling from the sight of Marco's mouth-watering pizza. "He likes the dough. Ha! Get it?"

He rolled his eyes at you but with a hint of a small smile in his lips as joined you on the crates. "So, are you gonna spend the night in the apartment?" You asked.

"Yes."

"What, got another girl back in the penthouse?" You teased, nudging his shoulder.

He gave you a throaty, sarcastic laugh. "This time, no."

"Too bad. I was ready to give a performance of a lifetime." You chuckled, glancing at him sideways and catching him with a big smile on his face.

You looked around you. The only source of light you had was the city lights towering above, and ahead of you. "You know," you started, "if you hung those little lights on the walls or just above us, this would seem like a date."

He pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. "Phew, dodged a bullet over there huh?"

You giggled, tipping the cap off the ice cold light beer and bringing the top of the bottle to your mouth. The liquid felt cold in your mouth but soon warmed up, nestling inside your stomach.

"This is nice." you commented then started to ramble on some more. "It'd be nicer to see New York during sunset though. Ever since I got the night shift in the bar, I rarely do. It's all the traffic and bright city lights."

You painted Bucky a picture of the last sunset you've watched. You had no recalling memory when it was but you remembered it as another cold day (but not as cold as tonight). The colorful sunset hues plastered in the high skies. Seeing it from the rooftop felt like they could easily be reached, as if they were wanting to be touched. And without a warning, the sun started to go down millisecond by millisecond.

"To others, what happens after a sunset is just another sign of the darkness to come. And then poof, city lights." you continued, then proceeded to gesture at the sky. "But for me, the feeling after a sunset is what I love the most. The sun wallowed in serenity in the pale break of light in between those dark clouds forming. Ugh, I just love that."

"I see what you mean." Bucky hummed, withdrawing his eyes to the sky to look at you. "It's like an afterglow."

"Yes, like an afterglow." You agreed, meeting his intense gaze. "If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable."

"A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset." He replied. "But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people are some things you can never miss."

You just hummed in response, taking a huge sip of your beer. " So, when did your love for photography start?" Bucky asked.

"It started when I was young." You replied. "I would play around with my parents' digital cameras, take photos of literally everything around me, especially when we were on vacation. It was just a hobby then. I never thought of it as a means of living until I was in college. God, I hated business school. Every second of it. I just did it to make my parents happy but I really wanted to be out there, embracing people, embracing everything in life. It's like -- "

"Capturing people's stories in a different light?" He continued for you, as if reading your mind.

"Exactly." You smiled, quite happy that he saw it the way you usually did.

"If it wasn't for the hotel business I also would've been an artist. Maybe an actor."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because business is all I know." He sighed. "Tony Stark, the guy who adopted me, taught me everything there was to know. As he was building his empire, he pulled me towards it and now, I'm running one of his hotels. Y'know, I don't think of him as a father or anything. More like a friend, a wingman."

And just like that, Bucky peeled himself like an onion. Slowly. Layer by layer by layer. But then he stopped. He opened his mouth to say more but then he decided to stop. You waited but nothing else came out. As much as he wanted to know you, you too wanted to know him — and not just his wild adventures but the things that were deeper than that.

It felt nice to talk to Bucky this way. Actually, it wasn't just nice. It was very comfortable that it gave you a warm sensation on your chest.

Seeing that he wasn't as comfortable as he was before opening up, you steered to a different topic. "Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" you asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

"No," he chuckled, "I don't think so. I'm stuck in a routine, y/n. Business, party, booze, girls. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's the same, everything feels like nothing after."

You agreed with him. "I guess I'm also stuck in a rut." You harmonized with his laughter, seeing your life flash before your eyes. "Cheers to that."

With that, you drank the night away.

32 notes · View notes

dewykth · 4 years

Text

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

317 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 3 years

Note

clari clari clari can you give me some music recommendations?!

anon anon anon bb i can try!!! ehehe <33

okay okay so idk if you’re looking for like, artists in general, albums, or individual songs SO i’m doing all three!!!

chase atlantic (TW for drugs + depression/mental illness, suicidal themes)

aaaah i am literally in love with everything they release, but their new album JUST dropped (called beauty in death)!!

my favourite songs off of it are:

paranoid, pleasexanny, aleyuh, call me back, i think i’m lost again, and wasted <3

but yeah i literally love all of their work so much, esp their self-titled album!!

lil peep (TW for drugs + depression/mental illness, suicidal themes)

u had to know this one was coming. i am head over heels in love with his work and i will forever be upset that we lost him so, so early.

my favourite albums are:

come over when you’re sober pt 1 and crybaby <3

lana del rey

everything. just everything. in love with her entire vibe my GOD i love it sm.

my absolute favourite songs are (prepare yourself):

love, music to watch boys to, high by the beach, freak (AAAAAAAH), salvatore, money power glory, ultraviolence, west coast, old money, blue jeans, off to the races, video games, dark paradise, and lolita.

then from her ‘unreleased’ songs:

queen of disaster, mermaid motel, be my daddy (DUH LMAO), caught you boy (i want you boy), you can be the boss, driving in cars with boys, meet me in the pale moonlight

the neighbourhood

again, everything. oh my god also also also jesse rutherford’s solo album (called ‘&’)!!!

oooh i’ll give u my favourite songs off of &:

bloom later, born to be blonde, barbie & ken, drama, and pretty illusion <3

ariana grade

aaaaah truly i love her a LOT. i really really really love the albums sweetener and thank u, next, but i’m kind of in love with all of her work minus her first album!! positions is a lot of fun!!

my favourite songs off of that album in particular are:

just like magic, love language, 34+35, motive, and worst behaviour (on the deluxe ver!)

post malone (TW for drugs)

eeeeee tbh i love most of his stuff too, but my favourite albums are beerbongs & bentleys and hollywood’s bleeding

and then individual songs i’ve been listening to a lot lately are:

dead inside by younger hunger (annie sent me this)

love taste by moe shop etc. (annie sent me this as well; both of these are on my dari playlist ehehehehe <333)

overdose by kaiba + kamaara

white tee + e-girls are ruining my life! by corpse (ugh <333)

sick thoughts by lewis blissett

personal by the vamps (thank u anon who suggested this!!!!!!)

n i also rly like ghostemane, city morgue and $uicideboy$ but like they can get kinda screamy.

speaking of kinda screamy, my favourite metal bands are:

avenged sevenfold (nearly got a deathbat tattooed on my hip when i was 18 NO JOKE): fav albums = waking the fallen, self-titled and nightmare

slipknot: fav albums = iowa, vol 3: the subliminal verses and all hope is gone

asking alexandria (TW for drugs): fav albums = reckless and relentless and from death to destiny (tbh stay away from anything after FDTD, ben + danny had a falling out and are now bffs again but their work just ISNT the same anymore :(((( i��ll forever be upset about this)

#waaaaah QUITE A BIT OF VARIETY THERE HAHAHA but yeah!!!! sorry it’s such a long post!!! but that’s what i listen to the most <3 #hahahahah from the age of 14 to 20 i EXCLUSIVELY listened to metal #i was so fucking annoying like aaaah tbh i was a bit of a metal elitist #all types of metal tho because ‘metal’ is such a broad genre #oh god hahahaha my twitter bio in hs was lyrics from morte et dabo #(an asking alexandria song supposed to written from the pov of lucifer and his journey falling from heaven + after)#so **HUGE TW FOR SACRILEGE**!!!!!!!!!!!!!#seriously if anyone decides to look this song up please please BE SAFE and be warned it really is RUTHLESS #but i always thought the idea was so so so interesting #my absolute favourite part purely for the emotion in danny’s screams is the whole:#‘bitch i’ll fucking find you i’ll tear your eyes right out of your self-righteous face;#lord i’ll fucking find you i’ll tear your tongue out of your rancid fucking mouth’#tbh i think that WHOLE verse is incredible with danny’s low + high screams mixed with the breakdown and the drums it’s so CHAOTIC n hateful #esp the ‘heaven will burn to the fucking ground; your world will crumble and fall from the skies;#blood will spill and rain upon the earth; your reign is over and i’ll wear your crown’#i still know every single lyric to every AA song up until FDTD tho :(((#OH OH OH U WANNA KNOW A SONG THAT IM SURE INFLUENCED MY SMUT WRITING LMAO????????? NOT THE AMERICAN AVERAGE #your thighs were made for cheeks to graze <3333 #i was WAY too young to be listening to that song jesus fuckin christ but uh it was definitely one of my favourite asking songs 🙊🙊🙊#OMFG I EVEN HAD ONE OF THOSE ‘YOU STUPID FUCKING WHORE’ SHIRTS LMAOOOOOOOOO HOLY FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT THAT #god that song <3333333333333 #that’s it that’s it i’m writing a dabi oneshot based off of not the american average i don’t even care #it’s v touya-nii actually #HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM #anyway anon ily and i hope you’re having a wonderful saturday!!! <33 please stay safe okay??#sweet anon 🥺#clari gets mail #anon: rec me some music clari: ok here’s a bunch n also lemme jus rant for my love for asking alexandria in the tags :)#LMAO i’m so sorry anon!!! but hopefully at least some of those help!!!! (not the AA tags hehehe the recs) <33 #OH OH RIGHT dari = dabi + clari

17 notes · View notes

starglitterz · 3 years

Note

TUMBLR DELETED MY ASK TWICE I CANNOT

OOO yesyes meika hime and meika mikoto are really cool, i love their character design and their MMDs on youtube are so fun to watch JSJSJSJS

miku is 😍😍 lots of her songs are bangers + she's like the most popular vocaloid so how can you not like her?? tbh i kind of favour len over rin though that might be because i love the song migikata no chou 🤪🤪

my favourite has got to be gumi!! i love everything about her, her design, her voice, her carrot 😋 plus, one of my first vocaloid songs was matryoshka (with gumi and miku) and i just loved how her voice matched with the theme of the song,, i also really like kaito, the authenticity in his voice just hits different and the same way you think with luka, i like to think if him as the older brother :)

IN TERMS OF UTAITE, OFC, MAFUMAFU AND SORARU ARE SUPERIOR /lh i remember listening to their cover of roki on loop during history class once HDHSJD but i also really enjoy nqrse and miyashita yuu! both are kind of underrated in my opinion, but they're both amazing, and their vocal ranges are eye opening! and also, reol! her songs are so different /pos and it's so fun to see her grow in popularity 😩🙏

I APOLOGIZE IF THIS WAS LONG I'M JUST HAPPY TO SEE SOMEONE MATCH MY ENTHUSIASM IN THIS HSHSHS i'm afraid i popped off too much but this whole discussion made me really happy 😍🙏 YOU TOO, HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!!

rimona hi !!! i'm so sorry for only seeing this now 😭 it got buried amongst all the 1k reqs in my inbox </3 ALSO I CANNOT BELIEVE TUMBLR DELETED YOUR ASK SMH I STG IM ABT TO GO TO WAR WITH TUMBLR HQ 🤬🤬🤬

yeah !!!!!!! their designs are so cute omfg,,, i love how their colour palettes compliment each other sm and himes voice is literally ADORABLE

AHAHA YESS miku is the no1 princess in the world after all 😋 LMFAOOO i love them both equally although i will never not be amazed by len's dancing in the live performances, especially like shake it! & remote controller, his breakdancing and stunts are always so cool to see HAHA i love how the animators decided to make him do that!!

AAAA gumi omg u have great taste !! imo she has the clearest english out of all the vocaloids, and yes she was tuned AMAZINGLY in matryoshka hachi so true <333 ooo i haven't listened to as many kaito songs, but i rlly like how mitchie m made him rap in ohedo julianight ! :D AND YES OMG kaito & luka best older siblings,,, with meiko as the wine aunt LOL

YEAHHHH SO TRUE !!!!!!!!!!!! holy shoot their roki cover is So Good i have been listening to it for ages and it never gets old omg,,, NQRSE MY BELOVED <3 i love his voice, especially in combination with araki & meychan, also as streamers i stg aranarumey and atr are the funniest ever i nearly died laughing watching aranarumeys fnaf stream 😭 MIYASHITA YUU YES TY HIS VOCAL RANGE IS SO ("*&*£$&*%)!" omfg bro his unknown mother goose cover lives in my brain rent free 😩 YES REOLLL JSKKDJS AND WHEN SHE COLLABS W GIGA THEY MAKE SUCH BANGERS HER SONGS ARE GREAT TOO OMG

NOO its totally fine i love talking w ppl abt their interests !! this made me so happy omg, i dont rlly know anyone irl who likes vocaloid and utaites too so its rlly great to have someone to talk to abt it :))) /gen HAVE A GREAT DAY DARLING !! <3

p.s. omg do u listen to 96neko 👀 and do u have any other utaites/vocaloids/producers to recommend? and omg do u like fukase and oliver (the vocaloids)?

#📧 — mail !#rim0na💌

2 notes · View notes

kingdomtual · 3 years

Note

Big brains think alike. I also went on spotify to make my list because if I had to rely on my memory I would be there for hours and we don't want that lol

Here is my list ^^

1) NEW ME - WJSN This song is SO good! I just discovered it a week or so ago and it's already on my most played songs list. Tells you how amazing it is!

2) ROCKET - NCT DREAM The hot sauce/hello future repackage is such a great album. There had to be a song from the album in this list. Rocket is such a cute song. ♡

3) REVERSE - EXN Actually, I discovered exn thanks to a spotify ad. I really liked the song they played while she was talking about her album and immediately went to listen to it. Her album [qqqqq] (aka 5 questions) is my most played album of 2021.

4) LOVE% - DEMIAN I feel like this song is pretty popular, and for a good reason! My first demian song and what a great way to discover an artist wow.

5) TEDDY BEAR - SEJEONG When I first listened to this song I couldn't believe she was the one singing. It seemed like another artist's voice. My ears must've been blocked when I first listened to it lol Her voice is sweet as honey. And the title of this song is perfect. 🧸💕

6) TENNIS (0:0) - ITZY My favorite song from the in the morning album. Yuna's voice in this one though. wow

7) THANK U SOOOO MUCH - YUBIN When you'll get to know me, you'll notice that I really like listening to old songs at random times. And this song is the perfect example. Yubin retro queen. The choreo to this song looks so satisfying and easy while it's not (the chorus is hard).

8) IMAGINE - KEY What did I tell you just before? I mean this song is so good! Along with chemicals. Both these songs are great. *chef's kiss* mwah

9) LOVE SONG - NCT 127 I feel like I'm repeating myself but yeah. When neo zone was released, I didn't pay much attention to this song. But now, it's one of my fave from this album.

10) TOGETHER - KAYTRANADA (FT. ALUNAGEORGE & GOLDLINK) I clap along to this song whenever it comes on. That's all you need to know hehe

Since the last four songs are old, I'll just list four songs released this year that I really like: Irreplaceable (nct dream), troll (iu ft. dean), code (shinee) & sign (dalsoobin).

Whew, that was long!

How about for the next question you tell me about your favorite vocalists? Who are they and what are some songs you think their vocal talent was showcased?

Talk to you later friend. ^^

omg I love your songs!! And the ones I don't know, I'm definitely checking out! Yay for new recs!!!! <333 Omg such a good question...so I'm thinking of three off hand that I'm absolutely in love with, tho I know there are many LOL Seoho from Oneus is probably one of my top fave vocalists of all time. He has crazy range, his pitch is perfect. A favorite moment is probably his performance in the song To Be Or Not To Be. The song itself is great, but it really lends to his voice talents, I think! Another would definitely be...well, I'd say the entire vocal unit of seventeen but I guess that's not fair LOL so I'll just say Woozi of Seventeen for now. He, again, has incredible range and an absolutely beautiful voice. My favorite moment is watching him perform their song Hug live and nearly crying because his vocals were so smooth and comforting!!! My third is Ivan (Park Yoosung) of Kingdom. Again, they're a rookie group but his vocals in Karma are absolutely stunning and his vocals carry into live performances so well. He's proven himself already as a formidable vocalist and I love that for him. Tell me about some of your favorites! <3

#summer event

1 note · View note

niyes-lahiffe · 4 years

Text

The Tunnel of Love

hey heyyy here’s my @mlsecretsanta gift for @marikittynoir!! so sorry it took so long but i rlly rlly hope u enjoy it :D hope u gave a fabulous new years <333

Ao3

"Dude, are you serious? You can't come?!"

Through his end of the phone, Adrien sighed. "You know how my father is, man."

"I hate how your dad is."

"That's a little rude."

"Well it's true!" Nino rubbed his eyes from underneath his glasses as he groaned. "And it's almost Christmas! Your old man seriously has no heart."

Adrien was silent for a long moment, and Nino figured he was looking out the giant window in his bedroom, as he always did whenever he didn't want to stay behind but had no choice. The DJ glanced at his girlfriend beside him, who gave him a worried look. "Look, dude, we'll be sure to get you awesome souvenirs and when we get back, we're throwing a wicked party at your place again, alright?"

Adrien suddenly laughed, a true, sincere laugh that was from the heart and one that made both Nino and Alya smile.

"You're the best, Nino."

Nino winked and did finger guns even though he knew Adrien couldn't see him. Alya laughed at his goofiness as he said, "Thanks, man, I try my best!"

"I'll see you guys when you get back, then?"

"For sure!" Nino ended the call before turning to his girlfriend, who sighed.

"Marinette's gonna be so disappointed..." she mumbled.

"But not surprised."

"We'll make it up to both of them, though!" Alya pumped her fists dramatically in the air and Nino suddenly busted out laughing before doing the pose along with her, exclaiming his own agreement.

------------------------------

Adrien sighed deeply when his best friend hung up. Plagg suddenly zipped up to his face and said, "You know, Nino's right. Your dad needs to learn some things." The kwami held his tiny paw up and protested loudly when Adrien opened his mouth. "UHBUP! It's true and you know it! Aaaaand what's with that rebellious face you've got there?"

Adrien was suddenly smirking at his kwami, looking determined. "You know, Adrien may not be able to go on this field trip to the amusement park, but I think I know someone who can go."

"Ooooo, I like where this is going!" Plagg twirled around his owner a few times and waited for the magic words.

"Plagg, claws out!"

------------------------------

The bus finally parked and Kim nearly broke the door open to get out. The rest of the class, save for Max who quickly ran after him, couldn't help but laugh at how quickly he dashed off once the door was actually open. Ms. Bustier didn't even have time to scold him.

"Come on, what are we waiting for?" Alya grabbed the hands of her best friend and boyfriend respectively as she dragged them both out of the bus.

Just as they both had suspected, Marinette was disappointed (as well as irritated) yet not shocked to hear the news about Adrien. She and Nino were able to talk a moment about how terrible his father was before getting interrupted by their teacher about an announcement for the field trip.

Despite them missing a peer of their group, the classmates were still able to have fun with the many attractions. Juleka was able to win Rose an adorable giant teddy bear, Alix got the best score in nearly every mini game, Max's screams could be heard throughout basically the entire park, and Kim was nearly thrown out for breaking the rules for nearly every game.

After a good chunk of the day had passed, Nino poked Alya in the side and pointed towards a nearby attraction. "Ooooh, the tunnel of loveeee.." He wiggled his eyebrows at his girlfriend and she snorted at him as she pulled his face away from her.

"Okay, you dork, fine." She glanced at Marinette, who's eyes had widened as she looked at the couple before her. Alya frowned.

"You can join us if you want, Marinette!" Alya nearly jabbed Nino in the side for saying that. As much as she loved having Marinette with them, she knew how horribly awkward that would be for all of them.

"Oh no, no, I don't want to be a bother to you guys!" Marinette replied, raising her arms and shaking them along with her head. "You go ahead, I'll find something else to do while you guys do that."

"You sure?" Alya shot her boyfriend as discreet of a death glare as she could. He didn't notice.

"Positive. Now GO!" Marinette suddenly shoved them both in the direction of the popular attraction, secretly delighted in the way their faces flushed.

She smiled and waved at them as they walked away and once they were out of sight, her smile slowly fell. The designer found a bench to sit on and she sighed.

"What's with the big sigh?"

Marinette recognized that cheeky voice. She turned around and was face-to-face with none other than Chat Noir, who was perched on the fountain behind her. He leaped off and landed in front of her, obviously in a way that he was trying to impress her (to which she inwardly rolled her eyes about). "You're supposed to be having fun! You're at an amusement park."

Marinette laughed softly and shook her head. "It's just..I guess I'd like to have a partner with some of the attractions. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Alya and Nino! It's just...it can be awkward being the third wheel sometimes.."

Chat laughed at her. "Oh, that's completely understandable, don't worry." He tapped his chin in thought for a moment as he gazed at her.

Puzzled and slightly awkward, she looked around before facing him again. "What?"

"Tell you what!" Chat placed a clawed hand on her shoulder. "I'll be your partner for the day if you'd like!"

Marinette felt her entire face turn red as she gawked at him. "WHAT?!"

He reeled back as he put his hands in the air defensively, shouting, "I'M SORRY, YOU DON'T HAVE TO IF YOU DON'T WANT TO-"

Marinette doubled over and laughed at him, much to his confusion. "NO, Chat, it's okay!" She giggled for a moment as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Very well. I accept your offer."

His beautiful green eyes blinked at her. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Sweet!" Chat, though cautious about her personal space, carefully slid an arm around her shoulders. He relaxed when she didn't protest. "Guess we gotta fully enjoy the park together now!"

"Yeah," she agreed, snickering again.

------------------------------

"You know, Nino, you're already dorky as heck, but this is probably the cheesiest thing we have ever done together."

"And you're gonna love it," Nino replied as he buckled himself into his seat.

Alya adoringly rolled her eyes as the cart began it's leisurely drive into the dark tunnel and she could practically feel the giddiness emitting from her boyfriend.

"What if I refuse to kiss you?" she teased, casually slipping out of his arm that had wrapped around her shoulders.

She could tell he was wearing a mock pout even with the great darkness that engulfed them. "I think that'll be as much of a disappointment to you as it will me, babe."

The blogger wasn't able to make the cheeky response that she wanted to, because the moment she wanted to open her mouth, Nino had already grabbed her chin and pressed her lips against hers.

That being said, Alya absolutely loved kissing her boyfriend.

------------------------------

Oh, how Marinette wished she was recording at the moment. The moment Alya and Nino left the famed tunnel of love, they stopped in their tracks. Now, Alya's jaw was nearly to the floor and Marinette had never seen Nino's eyes so wide.

"Girl," her best friend said. "You got. CHAT NOIR. To be your partner for the day."

Marinette and Chat looked at each other before in unison replying, "Yup!"

Now it was Alya and Nino's turns to look at each other, but after a moment of staring in pure shock, they both beamed.

"Dude. That's wicked."

------------------------------

As the sky began to turn wondrous shades of dark blue and pink, Marinette turned to Chat Noir before she followed her classmates onto the bus.

The day truly had been fabulous with him, which was definitely not something she was expecting. Of course she loved Chat Noir, but being with him in a situation that wasn't for business made her realize how fun he could really be.

And, of course, they had gone on the tunnel of love because they didn't want to be the oddballs out. Chat had no idea if Marinette was comfortable with anything, so he had put his arms around her and didn't attempt to take it any further than that.

Marinette thought the gesture was so sweet that she couldn't help but give him a quick kiss.

"You getting on the bus or not, 'Nette?" Chat's comment snapped her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head to snap out of her thoughts. "Oh! Yes." She giggled a second before grabbing Chat's hands. "Thanks so much for everything today, Chat. You really helped me feel better."

Chat scratched the back of his head and laughed as Marinette chuckled at his red face. "Well, of course! Really, I'm glad I could make it better for you."

Marinette stole a quick kiss from him before saying goodbye, and she had to stop herself from laughing at how he was still frozen in place even as she got on the bus.

She ignored her best friend's outrageous yelling about the kiss as she sat at the window and began to wave at Paris' superhero. He snapped out of his shock and happily waved back, a soft smile on his face.

So, Marinette realized, she may not ever see Chat the same again after that day. And, surprisingly, she was okay with it.

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #djwifi #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #my fics #mlss #mlss2k19 #i hope this is sufficient enough for u bc you deserve the best <33

65 notes · View notes

9bambi-blog · 4 years

Text

* // 𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 … /𝚃𝙷𝙴_𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴_𝙼𝙰𝙽 : 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐨 also known as 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢 is wanted for grand larceny. she is a twenty-one year old cis female who has ties to the mastermind because 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐨. 𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 : 𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑤, 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠, 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠, & 𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚁 : 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐞𝐮𝐧.

hello my name is julie & i’m really excited to be here !! if you don’t already have me on discord, feel free to add me @ *kisses els cheek gently*#8023

ok love you all kissy !! 🥺💖🦌🌱🎀💝🌠🌿💕

* / 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 ; 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

name: adora seo ( kang jinah )

age: twenty one

sign: capricorn sun / gemini moon ( click )

sexual orientation: bisexual

romantic orientation: biromantic

alignment: chaotic neutral

pinterest board

* / 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 ; 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

tw : death, a fire

✧ . part 1: kang jinah.

adora seo, born as kang jinah, grew up in poverty. her mother’s pregnancy had been one outside of wedlock, meaning her family disowned her as soon as the news came out

after living on the streets / having temporary accommodations on & off for the next couple of years, jinah’s mother was able to get a job as a housekeeper for this vv rich couple

the seo family lived on a vv lavish & spacious estate on the countryside, completely separated from any type of life

they lived in their own little world, as they had to drive nearly 45 min to reach the nearest town

this also meant that when jinah’s mother started working there her daughter was allowed to stay in the staff quarters as well

mr. & mrs. seo were super fond of jinah, as she reminded them of their own daughter, adora

honestly adora didn’t really like jinah as adora was a spoiled brat & didn’t enjoy sharing part of the spotlights with some random child

her mother worked hard to earn her place in that house, while jinah was mainly there to entertain adora. they would get homeschooled together, whenever adora wanted to play outside jinah had to tag along & carry all her toys, & whenever jinah was free she tended to help her mother out as well with whatever she was working on

despite all of this jinah had a fairly nice childhood, spending every free moment outside in the forest next to the mansion

which ! ultimately saved her life

after one particular night of adora being super nasty n mean to her, jinah couldn’t go back to bed so she decided to sneak out & go to her hideout spot in the forest, next to a creek

when she returned a few hours later, just wanting to go back to bed, she honestly got the surprise of her life when the mansion was burning down

she fainted </3 she just remembers panicking & being woken up by paramedics who had taken her to a hospital, & when she asked them where her mother was they told her mrs. seo hadn’t survived the fire, & everything will be okay adora

she never corrected them

✧ . part 2: adora seo.

the fire had been a disaster to a point where no one inside the house had survived & the bodies had been beyond identifiable with the resources they had back then ( not to mention lazy work from authorities ) meaning jinah, now adora, inherited a whole lot of money without anyone even questioning her identity

they honestly didn’t have any reason to do so either as the seo family had no relatives left, they’d been secluded all these years, & her and adora were the exact same age

everyone felt really bad for her, she kinda made headlines as a ‘ wonder child ’ for surviving such a tragedy, & got to live with extended family of the seo’s in new york city

it was surprisingly easy, honestly, how quickly she got used to being adora. she got.. really pampered by all the people surrounding her because they pitied her, & that being the first time she got any real attention / love from adults... she wasn’t going to tell them she was lying to them all HDFJKDFGJFKDFJK so she just stayed quiet, avoided eye contact whenever she met people who’d seen adora as a baby, & grew up surrounded by socialites

honestly !!!!! the hardest part out of all of this ( for her ) was how she couldn’t find any information on her mother as everyone just kept talking about the seo’s 😔 she never got any closure when it comes to her mother’s death

✧ . part 3: bambi.

ok so adora grew up, was lowkey a golden child as she didn’t like talking to people so she just focused on her work, aka she got things done <333 & lived a vv good life

in college she met enzo at some local coffee shop, who had been working with j by then

there was this guy in front of her basically excusing himself bc he forgot his wallet at home & she overheard and was like .. oh ! let me pay for him ! and basically he insisted on repaying her with a date & she said yes & then they slowly but surely fell in love <333

their relationship was an overall good one !! he really helped her come out of her shell, while she gave him a safe haven as his family life wasn’t the best

it wasn’t until one night she overheard him having a phonecall with j that she grew suspicious, thinking he’d been cheating on her, & basically demanded for him to explain himself

he confessed he’s been working with this person for crime related stuff, how he was of great use for them, & that adora was welcome to meet j if she wanted to

she was honestly super upset & ready to break up with him, but he basically begged her to stay by reminding her how they promised to be each other’s ride or die, & only then she reluctantly agreed to the meet up

but honestly the moment they met she realized well enough she already knew too much & that there was no way out

working along with the 2017 heist was a vv surreal experience for her, even though her job was relatively easy

a couple of weeks before the heist was supposed to take place adora & enzo got into a big fight

basically she begged for them to just run away & forget about j and the others, vv aware of the risks, & that she had enough money for the two of them to live a comfortable life elsewhere

but he basically told her that j would always be his top priority

she was kinda pissed & baffled so she broke up with him that night

they decided not to tell the crew ( kinda planning on talking it out as soon as the heist was over ) as they didn’t want to cause any type of distraction when tensions were already running high

but honestly she was ready to leave after the heist, already having plane tickets to disappear somewhere in europe

so .. when that night went horribly wrong & enzo died, she was kinda like :/ ok guess i can’t take my flight to anymore..

once again when people broke down the news to her, she didn’t correct anyone & played her role as enzo’s grieving girlfriend vv well

basically she told alec she was planning on leaving a couple of days later ( as he was one of her closer friends at the time ) and he basically was like .. yea no ur not i know who u are & basically she’s .. being blackmailed into doing the 2020 heist out of fear of alec telling j that she’s been lying about her identity all along

like she really doesn’t want to die QJHDJSJDFDKS

* / 𝖉𝖎𝖌 𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕𝖊𝖗 ; 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

she’s overall a nice person !! she doesn’t want to be there & sometimes it shows but she tries to make the most out of it <333

not to mention that she does her job really well like .. once she focuses on something she needs to make sure everything’s going perfect

kinda emotionally constipated

kinda smart

she’s honestly your stereotypical capricorn this is sick .. ( i’m not talking about you veer i love you 🥺 )

she’s reliable & loyal though !! adora’s observant & knows a Lot about people but she always keeps things to herself

ok .. this is it for now .. lets plot aha <3 🙈

#nocte:intro #im so sorry this took me so long i was literally thinking of different ways to write this without sounding delulu #FHJDFFJGKFDSQ #anyways here we go 🥺

8 notes · View notes

baekthecorgi · 5 years

Note

omg 40 with doyoung for the drabble game please!! and congratulations for 700+ followers!💞

40. “The kids, they ambushed me.” + Doyoung

play the drabble game with me! pick a number and an nct member ♡

Doyoung never imagined kids to be this wild.

He’s had his fair share with rambunctious five-year-olds. Running around the classroom with sharp objects. Crying because one of the kids wouldn’t lend their toy. Making a sloppy mess during recess. Doyoung has gone through all that nightmare.

Or what he thought was a nightmare.

Doyoung loves his small, cutie patootie students to bits. Don’t be mistaken. It wasn’t until the 14th of February – Valentines Day – that he understood the Vine Jeno had shown him days ago, the latter cackling at the joke.

There is only one thing worse than a rapist. A child.

It was in the Arts class when the six-second video made sense. Strolling through the aisles of the classroom, Doyoung scans the kids’ works, each card either overflowing with red and pink glitters or littered with what seems to be a thousand hearts on the blank Oslo paper. The kindergarteners all had their tongue slightly peeking out of their lips, seriously immersed with their Valentine cards.

“Teacher?” One of the kids named Sofie tugs the hem of his dress shirt. Her hair was neatly pulled back in pigtails, pink flowers tie keeping them in place. Doyoung feels his heart swell.

“Yes, darling?” Doyoung replies with a grin, crouching to her level. “Is there a problem?”

Sofie proudly shows her card to Doyoung, almost shoving it to his face. As a five-year-old, she has impressive art skills to create something nearly, let’s say, neat unlike the rest of her classmates. Doyoung ‘pretends’ to be amazed by the girl’s card. (Deep down, he really was.)

“Ooh, that looks pretty! Just like you,” Doyoung cooes, forming an 'o’ with his mouth. He pats the child on the head, smoothing out the strands of her hair a few seconds later.

“I made it for you,” she says. Doyoung was about to thank her but was instantly cut off. “So you can tell your friend you like her.”

Confused, Doyoung asks, eyebrows furrowed, “Which friend?”

Sofie mentions your name and Doyoung was taken aback. He doesn’t open his nonexistent love life to anyone, especially the kids. Were the kids really highly sensitive to feelings to observe his subtle advances on you? What do the kids know except eat, sleep, cry, and make a mess out of things? That’s where the young teacher is wrong.

“How’d you know I like her?” Doyoung inquires, propping an elbow on his knee.

Sofie tilts her head, digging deep in her mind then shrugs absentmindedly. “You look at her the same way you look at us, teacher. You like us so that means you like her, too!”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.” Doyoung feels his side being nudged by the small girl. She extends her short arms to her teacher, forcing Doyoung’s hands open then places the card on it.

“Tell her how you feel!” Sofie encourages the latter, a little too loud enough for her classmates to hear. The rest of the kids turn their heads when Doyoung shakes his head in disapproval. He mutters an “I can’t” and suddenly, all of the kids are triggered.

They say kids are sensitive to feelings. Much wiser than most adults, as Doyoung’s mom would say. It was safe to say that the kids had enough of you and Doyoung playing hide and seek with your feelings for each other. Doyoung’s cute students have had enough of it and are ready to put their foot down.

And by that they mean tackling Doyoung to the ground, catching the poor guy completely defenseless. He can’t just fling one of the kids away, he’s too soft for that, for them. The kids’ laughs and giggles echo through the preschool’s corridors as they all stack on Doyoung’s lanky body, making a dogpile. Doyoung decides to go with the flow despite the fact that he’s already having a hard time breathing.

“Doyoung?” You peek your head through Doyoung’s classroom. Shocked to see the mini dogpile happening, you call out their attention. “Kids! Oh my god, what are you guys doing?!”

Still stuck under the pile, Doyoung tries to catch his breath. “The kids, they ambushed me.”

“I can see that,” you jeer, removing two wriggling kids out of the dogpile.

“Sweetheart, what you did wasn’t very nice,” you tell Sofie as you pick her out of the pile as well. You look back at Doyoung, still breathless, then back at the mischievous child in front of you.

“But I was just trying to help Teacher Doyoung!” Said child whines accompanied with light stomps.

“With what, sweetie?”

“With you! Teacher Doyoung likes you!” Sofie shouts which makes Doyoung wince in embarrassment. He’s already lying on the floor, he might as well dig his own grave.

“Oh really now?” Your smile was teasing, radiating, one that could rival the sun and it was directed towards an exhausted Doyoung. His heart was doing a series of somersaults just staring at you talking to his babies aka students.

“How much do you think does Teacher Doyoung like me?”

Sofie extends his arms as much as she could to give you a visual representation on how much her teacher likes you. “This much!”

You turn to Doyoung who was now standing upright beside you. You feel your legs turn to jelly as you hear these indirect love confessions from the kids. How much more if Doyoung confirmed it?

Placing both hands on your hips, you jokingly pry, “Is this true, Doyoung?”

“Y–Yes,” He barely stutters out his words. “I mean, I like you.”

Doyoung points at Sofie, adding, “That much.”

“I like you, too.”

All the kids cheer in glee, jumping up and down relentlessly as Doyoung breaks out into a smile, reaching from ear to ear. He pulls you into a warm hug, burying his chin on the crook of your neck. Doyoung savors this moment with his two favorite people. His students and you.

Kids really are wild.

–note: ok hear me out doyoung is the cutest kindergarten teacher ever!! ugh my mind it amazes me sometimes jk jesus christ doyoung with kids already sends me to tears,, thank u to the anon who requested this! you just added ten years to my life span

masterlist

#nctwriters #nct scenarios #nct imagines #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct u imagines #nct u scenarios #nct 127 #nct u #kpop #kim doyoung #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #drabble game

100 notes · View notes

youngjaelook · 6 years

Text

Periwinkle

author’s note — here’s yet another request for u guys!! shout-out to the anon that requested this imagine, thank uu and ilyyy <333 #UNEDITED!

summary — Periwinkle is the color that reminds you of an old flame you can’t seem to forget.

warnings — mention of abortion, slight angst & language ofc lmao whats new?

word count — 2.1K

Periwinkle is her favorite color.

Sometimes, on days like this, when the snow is crisp underneath your feet and the air is biting and cold, she tells you that she wishes her eyes were the color periwinkle.

It makes your heart twist, not because she looks agonizingly cute as she peers up at you through long, thick lashes, but because it reminds you a lot of her father.

Yugyeom used to tell you that his favorite color was periwinkle, too. Before you'd drift off into slumber, he would pull you flush against his chest, mumbling to you about how periwinkle makes him feel at ease, like he's at home.

Sometimes, when you're alone in bed, on top of unmade, cold cotton sheets, you wonder if he still means it. If he still wears that favorite, periwinkle scarf of his and thinks of you.

You're too lost in your own thoughts, drowning out the world around you as your head spins in the past, to even notice that your daughter was no longer beside you.

Your frame stills as panic sets in.

"Sunhwa?" Perhaps it was the freezing temperature, or the fear in your bones that makes your voice tremble.

You look left to right, twirling in a circle as you scan the entire place.

You're cursing to yourself. It's at least 2 degrees Celsius right now, and she had forgotten to put her gloves on today.

"Fuck!" You scramble to the direction of the playground, praying that's where she might be.

You search under slides, peek up at the playhouses and check the swing sets, even the porter potty, but she isn't there.

You don't realize it, but you're crying as you look for her; the overwhelming feeling of dread takes shelter in your chest, slumping your shoulders and making your heart race.

Fifteen minutes passed, your legs are burning and your head is spinning, still no sight of her.

You're on the verge of having a mental break down by the Han river. Your hair has slipped out of it's braid, flying astray as the wind blew hard. You could only imagine how cold she must be right now, and the thought only makes you cry harder.

You fish for your phone in your pocket, dialing Jaehyung to come help you out, but there's a voice that calls out to you before you can hit call. "Aeomma!"

Peering behind your shoulder, you nearly dropped your phone as you practically sprinted to your little girl with open arms.

"Oh my god," you sniffle into her hair, holding onto her so tightly, she nearly chokes for air. Handle your kids with care, people.

She pulls away, much to your dismay, though you're still just so happy to have her back in your embrace. You feel stupid as you see her flushed cheeks, and bare hands with hot packs in them — wait, what?

"Where'd you get these, cheonsa?" You ask.

Sunhwa is only three, nearly four, so her vocabulary isn't the best and she's still got that baby lisp when she talks, which you think is adorable, by the way.

She looks behind her, though your eyes still stays fixed on her small face. "Oppa!" Then your gaze lifts and it's like time stands still, and the blood in your veins turn ice cold much like the weather.

Yugyeom blinks twice at you, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Y/N?" He sounds breathless as if the sight of you knocked all the wind of out his lungs.

You don't know how to respond. Your mouth runs dry, and your knees are ready to give up on you as they buckle and tremble beneath you.

The flesh of his neck is exposed to you, splotches of red running along the expanse of his throat due to the cold. You wonder why he isn't wearing a scarf, until you glance at your daughter and sees that she's wearing a periwinkle scarf much like the one Yugyeom loves so much.

"Aeomma, look too! Oppa gave me periwinkle."

You swallow thickly and muster a small smile.

The only thing you can hear is the thrumming of your heart as you stand up straight. "Yugyeom, it's uhm — it's nice to see you again."

Yugyeom wants to think you're joking as you say this. "You — I just," he struggles to form his thoughts in his words, choking slightly on his own spit as he does so. "That's all you can say, after all these years?"

You straighten your posture, running your hands down your thighs in order to calm yourself, though it doesn't seem like it's working.

"What is there to say?"

Yugyeom notes that you're still stubborn, never giving in and always standing your ground; it's trait that he's learned to love and hate at the same time.

Yugyeom frowns and shakes his head, deciding to let it go. "Okay," he shuffles awkwardly before spotting the beaming girl that clings to your leg, his favorite scarf still bundled around her neck, well most around her shoulders because it's too big for her.

Then the question that plagued his mind the moment Sunhwa yelled out the words "Aeomma!" rolled off his tongue, "Is this your daughter?"

Yugyeom knows it's been years since the two of you had last seen each other, and it shouldn't hurt him to know that you've clearly moved on.

At that moment, you wished you and Sunhwa had stayed home, and binge watched Disney movies instead. You regretted ever stepping foot outside today.

When you're quiet, Yugyeom clears his throat and apologizes. "Sorry, I just thought — since Sunhwa called you aeomma, I just thought you were her —"

You don't know what comes over you; maybe it's the guilt, or the memories of nights spent taking care of Sunhwa alone, that prompts you to interrupt him.

"How long has it been since we've broken up, Yugyeom?" Your question takes him off guard for a split second. He's eyeing your face, slightly confused and surprised.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. "Five? Three years, maybe?"

Perhaps it's the cold wind that's blowing on your eyes that makes you start tearing up. "No," you pause to take Sunhwa's hand in yours. "it's been nearly four years now."

Yugyeom is still oblivious to what you're implying, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed together, as he ponders over your words.

"Are you alright?" He asks when he notices your tears slip down your cheeks.

You feel embarrassed for crying in front of him, for the public to see, but you're guilty, ashamed for running away from him, for depriving Sunhwa from knowing her father.

"Sunhwa's three, turning four next month."

It takes only a brief moment for Yugyeom to put the pieces together like a puzzles.

He can't move, frozen in his place as he stares at you in shock.

Sunhwa is clueless to what is happening, her gaze flickering back and forth between you and the kind stranger from earlier.

She remembers seeing a flash of pale blue in the corner of her eye, immediately catching her attention. She had slipped her hand away from your grip, and when you don't reprimand her, she continues to follow the pretty blur of periwinkle.

The man is tall, she muses. So she tugs on his jeans instead of his sweater because she knows she's tiny and can't reach that high.

Yugyeom is surprised to see a little girl standing before him, eyes bright and familiar. He bends down to her level and smiles, but she isn't interested in making small talk with him, instead she's straight to the point about what she wants — his scarf.

"Are you lost?" She blinks at him, not responding. Yugyeom thinks she's too young to understand, so he just takes her hands, which seem to be too cold so he pulls out the spare hot packs from his coat and puts it in her hands, and walks around with her until they find her parents.

To anyone from the outside looking in, people would think that the little girl looks adorable next to her father. They look a lot like each other; same nose, lips.

Sunhwa peers up at you. "Aeomma, no — don't cry!" Her lower lip quivers at the sight of your tears, prompting tears of her own to prick the corners of her eyes.

You gather her in your arms. "Sunhwa," you sniffle. "aeomma is sorry."

Yugyeom watches in silence, too afraid to speak himself.

Sunhwa plays with your hair as she pulls away. "Why?" She asks, softly.

You shake your head and motion to Yugyeom with your head. "Aeomma is sorry for not telling you that you had an appa for so long."

She turns to look at Yugyeom with those same bright eyes, now glassy because of her tears of empathy. "Appa?"

Yugyeom's heart flutters and his head spins.

He nods tentatively, still evidently shocked by your revelation earlier, but smiles at her nonetheless.

You set her down, watching in awe as she walks hesitantly into his arms. He holds her flushed against his chest, can't help himself as he cries a little when she nuzzles closer to him.

He thinks he's complete.

All the resentment he's held against you for leaving him is thrown out the window with his daughter slotted in between his arms.

The day is nearly over when you find yourself in your small apartment. Sunhwa's asleep on your bed, curled up against soft sheets and lavender pillows.

Yugyeom is there, too. He's leaning against the kitchen island, a cup of warm chocolate in his hand as he stares thoughtfully at the marble countertops.

You're on the opposite side of the room, the small of your back pressed against the sink as you stand in the thick silence.

You know he's thinking about why you hadn't told him before, so you speak first.

"I want to say I'm sorry for never telling you — I know it's a little too late for apologies, but I just want to let you know that I didn't do it to hurt you, Yugyeom." He doesn't say anything, though he nods slowly.

A silence falls between you two once again, this time more suffocating than ever.

He's still staring at the countertops, and you take this opportunity to study his features — he looks older now, a lot more refined. He still looks beautiful, you think to yourself.

"You left me the moment you found out you were pregnant, right?"

You slumped your shoulders. "Was it because you thought I wouldn't be a good enough father?"

"No, of course not, Yugyeom —" you stop yourself, pausing to set your mug down in case you're hands go limp and you'd drop it.

"JYP-ssi didn't even know that you and I were dating. Imagine if he found out you had gotten your secret girlfriend pregnant, he'd have your head, or maybe even kick you out of the group. I didn't, I didn't want that to happen to you."

Apart of your theory was partially right, JYP would probably start screaming his head off at Yugyeom, but he wouldn't kick Yugyeom out of the group.

"Thats it?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at Yugyeom. "Unfortunately not." You sigh. "I had told my mother a few days after I took the test, she uhm —" You blinked back your tears.

"She told me to just abort it, that way I could still stay with you and not have to run away." You bite your lip to keep you from sobbing. "I swear, I thought I was going crazy because I considered it —" You feel ashamed admitting all of this.

"I didn't go through with it, I just couldn't so I left you instead. I went through those nine months all by myself. I made a deal with myself that I’d give her away after giving birth, but I couldn't do it." You looked up at him to see that he was crying as well.

"I looked at her and I instantly felt magnetized. It was like love at first sight, touch — call it anything you want, but I've never fallen in love that fast, not even with you."

Yugyeom wipes away his tears. "I'm sorry you missed all of that, Yugyeom." You murmur.

Yugyeom rounds the kitchen island, stopping right in front of you, his hands reaching out to touch the underside of your jaw soothingly.

His breath is all you feel against your cheeks, and it's taking so much in you not to lean in to kiss him. You missed this, you missed being this close to him, basking in his warmth and presence.

You missed him.

"It's not too late, is it?" He whispers.

Your eyes flutter close as you inch closer, lips brushing against one another. "No, it's not."

377 notes · View notes