#(and then she picks up the notebook and everything still goes to hell but maybe a little differently

[kiyomitakada]

“Light,” L says through the messaging spell, “don’t get any closer. Watari will handle this.”

“My dad’s in there,” you counter, and dodge another fireball. “You know how my dad is!”

L sighs. “I know how you are,” she mutters. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful.” You dance forward, avoiding the craters that have scorched into the ground around you. Higuchi is perched on top of the studio, dragon wings spread wide, peering down at you all with avid delight; he’s got Matsuda in the vice grip of one claw, but he’s being distracted right now by the prospect of getting to kill you all instead of just one measly human.

Reason number 102 you could never have been Kira, damn L’s amnesia theory: you would have taken whatever the dragon transformation deal was immediately.

(Not if you wanted to keep your family, a voice whispers in your head. And you know you would.

You shut that voice away. You are Light Yagami, golden boy. You would never become a serial killer in any universe.)

Suddenly Higuchi roars in pain, rearing upward. You squint to see past the smoke and realize that the dot on his back is your father. He’s stabbing wildly at the claw that’s holding Matsuda captive. It weakens, and Matsuda tumbles onto the floor.

“Fool!” Higuchi shouts. “No man—”

Whatever else he says is drowned out by the crackling fires around him as you dash into the studio and look for a way to the roof.

“Take the elevator,” L suddenly says.

“What? Why?”

“The stairs from the second to third floor are gone.”

You hesitate. It’d be an extraordinarily easy way for L to get rid of her prime suspect…

“Trust me,” L says, and the urgency in her voice must override your survival instinct because you take a right and elbow the elevator button as quickly as you can.

The doors open with a ding. You dart in, hit the button for the roof, and wait for ten seconds of agonizingly cheerful elevator music before the doors pop open again.

The scene is chaos. Higuchi is trying his level best to scorch your father into a nice Soichiro s’more, but Dad’s found a vantage point right behind Higuchi’s head so he’s always behind the fireballs. Matsuda has crawled behind an air conditioning unit and is readying the grenade Watari had passed to him this morning, hands shaking. There’s fire everywhere. The security guards up here are probably dead, you think. Oh well.

Matsuda’s face brightens when he sees you. “Light!”

“Matsuda.” You notice the three deep gashes in his shoulder; no wonder his hands are shaking. That’ll definitely scar. “I can throw that grenade, give it here.”

“That’s not the problem,” Matsuda hisses. “I can’t throw it without blowing Chief up, too.”

You mutter a swear. He’s right. Magical grenades work purely on range-of-effect rules; there’s no way your father would survive.

You calculate your options. Get your father to jump down — no, it’s too high up, and besides it’s good for Higuchi to be distracted. Throw the grenade somewhere further away — no, still too risky, either both or neither of them will die. Throw the grenade anyway —

You told your father once that if Kira ever hurt him, you’d hunt down Kira yourself.

You can’t hurt your father. You can’t.

You draw your knife.

“What are you doing,” L says in your ear.

“Ambushing Higuchi. It’s our best opportunity.”

“But Light,” Matsuda says. “He said that no man could kill him!”

“What?”

“He did say that,” L confirms.

Why is magic so goddamned weird? “Fine, whatever. L, you’re—” You remember that Matsuda is there and he doesn’t know L prefers she/her on some days. “You know what you are.”

“Light-kun truly needs sensitivity training.”

“Shut up. I’m going to stab him and you get the gun from Watari and shoot while he’s down.”

You don’t mention that the only reason L hadn’t already shot is because she and Watari are too far away to take good aim. L stays silent.

“But aren’t you both men?” Matsuda asks, confused.

“Higuchi’s probably lying,” you lie. “It doesn’t make sense for any artifact to give him so many different powers, right? Even the Death Note. Besides, how would he know for sure he’s immune to being killed?”

“Right, that makes sense,” Matsuda says, relaxing.

Higuchi roars again.

“I’m going,” you say, tightening your grip on the small knife. Watari said it was coated in poison. It’ll bring Higuchi down for the count, even if you can’t kill him.

“I think his main vulnerability is probably the break in his armor right over his chest,” Matsuda says quickly. “And shout for backup if you need it.”

“Right.” You don’t mention that you knew both of those things already, because you’re a kind person. “Ready, L?”

“Ready,” she says, so you start running.

It’s almost too easy, weaving around the flames and smoke and craters, your shirt halfway up your face so you don’t breathe too much bad air. Higuchi isn’t looking in your direction at all; your father’s pulling him the other way, still stabbing at the various spines of his back. You grimace. Either your father’s not making any significant contact or Higuchi was entirely correct.

Too late to change the plan. You get within distance and wait until he turns—

Now.

You leap into the air.

You hear your father shouting your name in surprise, but it’s too late. You were always good at sport, which included tennis and the high jump.

And darts.

The knife sails in a perfect arc through the air and sinks into Higuchi’s flesh.

“Now!” you yell, waiting for L to fire—

But the shot never comes, because Higuchi collapses.

You were expecting it to be a slow corruption. Instead he crumples all at once: your father yelps as Higuchi’s head hits the concrete of the roof, then his body, then his tail. His wings shrivel. You watch in faint awe as a dragon crumbles away into dust.

The last thing you hear of his voice is an all-too-human groan of pain:

“How?”

He’s looking at you.

You swallow a sudden wave of — nausea? Adrenaline? Euphoria? “Did you,” you say.

“I didn’t do anything,” L confirms, a little breathless.

“But I’m not—”

“Perhaps I should start calling you Light-chan,” L muses. “How would you like that?”

You open your mouth to yell at her. Instead you hear yourself say, “Use it in a sentence.”

“Hmm.” L pauses. “‘Light-chan saved her father today.’”

Oh. Oh god.

“I’m a man,” you say, mostly for your own benefit. “I have to be.”

“‘Light-chan is a girl of many talents,’” L continues. You stand there, shaking a little. “‘Including killing a dragon, being top of her class, murdering thousands of people, and tennis.’”

“I’m not Kira,” you say quickly.

L snorts. “Let me have some fun sometimes.”

“Like accusing me of being a murderer?”

“Like cracking an egg,” L says.

“What egg?”

“Light!” Your father. He’s jogging over, face sooty. “I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“Later,” you say, and L’s laugh makes you far too warm.

[ @deathnotetober day 15: crossover (with lord of the rings) (sort of.) ]

[schrijverr]

Tomorrow Will Be Different 22

Chapter 22 out of 26

Instead of managing to meet up later, Oliver has to keep running with Akio. The only way to keep them safe is to go public with Oliver being alive, leaving him back home in charge of Akio, while Tatsu and Maseo are still in the wind

In this chapter, Oliver, Diggle, Tatsu and Maseo have to deal with A.R.G.U.S. and America bureaucracy, before they can go to the Queen Mansion.

On AO3.

Ships: tatsu x maseo

Warnings: none

~~~

Chapter 22: Testimonies and Debriefs

In Washington DC two cars are waiting for them. Since Diggle and Oliver are off the record, they’re not allowed to accompany Tatsu and Maseo to the government building where they have to testify against Shrieve.

The only reason Oliver lets them out of sight, is because Lyla will be with them and she promises they can call Akio in the car. If they’re letting their arrival out of containment, they can’t make a disappearance permanent without raising red flags.

Still, the hours they have to wait are torture. The first two hours are filled with Diggle and Oliver giving a mission reports of went down in Japan, but after that it’s just waiting.

After an hour or so of just him and Diggle in a waiting room, an A.R.G.U.S. agent comes to bring them the stuff they left behind on the plane. Diggle goes to call Carly and Andy Jr., while Oliver cringes as he looks down at all the missed messages from his mom, sister and Akio.

Maybe he should’ve said goodbye, but in the moment, it seemed like too much to handle. Now reaching out seems like a lot to handle too.

In Osaka he was confronted once more with how different he is now. During the debrief he mentioned the explosion and they confirmed that 15 bodies were recovered. He didn’t feel a thing about that then, and he doesn’t now. That probably makes him a bad person.

It’s not like he completely minds being a bad person; being a bad person has kept him alive for the past three years, has ensured Tatsu and Maseo are now here to reunite with Akio. A lot of bad people accomplish good things. Like Amanda Waller.

However, being around bad people can make you a bad person, again see what Amanda did with him. He doesn’t want to make those around him a bad person too.

He won’t be around Akio for long enough to influence him, but what about mom, Speedy, Tommy, Raisa, hell, even Laurel or Diggle, maybe Felicity. He’ll be around them for long enough. He can’t hide these parts for forever.

Those years are a permanent part of him. They’re lodged deep inside his soul and still haunt him every day.

Oliver can’t just stop scanning every crowd for potential threats, mapping the best exit routes and cataloging all potential weapons. Can’t stop seeing violence as a posssible answer to solve his problems.

If he has to repress that for the rest of time, he’ll probably explode.

However, running away from home also isn’t the answer. Looking through the frantic messages from his family tells him that much. He doesn’t want to hurt them like that, even if it is to protect them from himself. That will be backup plan Z, not sooner.

Perhaps if Diggle stays, he can convince him to spar with him. Take a beating and give one to get it out of his system.

In that moment, the revelation from the shower returns to him. That he’d like to do something good anonymously. His father’s notebook is still in his pocket and he has everything else from the island too, which was among the gear Lyla got him. He can use the bow and the hood to work down the list and right his father’s wrongs, detox the city from its poison.

The idea is very appealing and he mentally starts working out the details, the process keeping his mind busy enough that all the messages aren’t so overwhelming anymore.

He calls Akio first. The kid picks up in seconds, excitedly saying: “Oliver! You got them! Otōsan and Okāsan called, they are going to be here soon.”

“They are, buddy. You’re going to see them real soon,” he says, smiling at the excitement in Akio’s voice.

“Thank you. I knew you would get them. You always keep your promises.”

Oliver knows that isn’t true, that he promised Slade he’d help him get off the Lian Yu, Yao Fei that he’d keep his daughter safe, Sara that she’d make it home. However, when Akio says it, he can almost believe it. “Yeah, I try.”

“Are you going to be here soon?” Akio asks.

“I don’t know. Your mom and dad are answering some questions, but it might take a while. The second they’re done, we’re coming home, though.”

“And that will be soon?”

Oliver isn’t sure what to answer to that. He has no clue how long Tatsu and Maseo will be held until it’s all cleared up. With American bureaucracy, it can take hours, days, or months, even years. The only confidence he has that it will be today is that they’re in the waiting room, but for all he knows they’re waiting to get put in a hotel or something.

“Oliver?” Akio prompts, a small frown audible at the lack of response.

He is saved by an unlikely hero; his mom. He can hear her in the background of the call asking: “Is it your parents again, Akio? Did they say where Oliver is?”

“No, it is Oliver,” Akio answers.

Moira gasps and her heels click quickly over the hardwood floors. “Can I speak to him for a moment?”

“Yes, you can,” Akio says, his voice further from the receiver.

“Oliver?” his mom sounds a lot like when he called her after those three years and guilt churns in his gut at that.

“Hi, mom,” he greets softly. “I’m so sorry for disappearing like that.”

“Oh thank God. You have no idea how worried I was. Never do that again.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Oliver promises, vowing to himself to keep it. He never wants to make the life of his loved ones more difficult.

In the background, he can hear Akio ask: “Can you ask him when he will be home?”

“Of course,” Moira directs to him, before repeating to Oliver: “When will you be back? Akio’s parents said they’re in Washington DC. Are you there too?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I can’t say much yet, but Tatsu and Maseo need to give their side of the story, you know, what happened between me leaving and- and nearly everyone dying,” he doesn’t have to fake how his voice turns a little strangled at the end, remembering how none of the prisoners of Ivo’s ship, bar Anatoli maybe, made it out of there. He was responsible for that and he feels that weight every day.

“Oh my poor boy, that- that must be so hard,” Moira says sympathetically.

“Only Tatsu and Maseo lived,” Oliver gasps, tears welling up as the cover story and memories run together in his mind.

His mom doesn’t know what to say to that and Oliver can’t blame her. The things he’s seen are beyond the norm. Some days he barely knows how to live with it, how to conceptualize it all, so how would anyone who didn’t live it know what to say?

“I’m sorry,” he says, because apologizing for his outburst is easier than letting it be real. He clears his throat. “Uhm, I don’t know how long we’re going to be, but they haven’t put us up in a hotel, so it should be today.”

“We’ll be waiting up for you,” Moira promises and the words settle something warm inside him. It has been so long since he had some place to return home to, people who’d miss him. The concept is still weird, but in a good way.

“Thank you,” Oliver smiles. “Can you give the phone to Akio so I can say goodbye?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” his mom’s voice still sounds strange at his concern for Akio. Oliver thinks she’s never going to get used to who is now. Maybe with time. He hopes so.

Akio gets the phone and says: “Moira says we are waiting up, does that mean you will be home tonight?”

“I’ll try to be. Might get late, but I’ll wake you when we get there,” Oliver says.

“Good, I missed you.”

It does a lot of things to Oliver’s heart that Akio means him too, not just his parents. That Oliver is important enough to him to be missed. Fuck, it’s going to hurt to let him go, no matter how good a hands he’ll leave him in and how much more Tatsu and Maseo deserve to fulfill the role he has these past few weeks.

But he can’t verbalize any of that, doesn’t want to put that on Akio’s shoulder. So he smiles, because you can always hear a smile, and ignores his wet eyes as he whispers: “I missed you too, buddy.”

He contemplates calling Thea too, but she’ll probably hear from his mom and Akio and he doesn’t have the energy to have another one of those calls. So he snaps a picture of himself, carefully making sure the backdrop reveals nothing and there’s no left over grime on his face. He captures it: alive, then presses send.

Diggle is still off having his own conversation. He’s probably more used to talking to family than Oliver is and the conversation is easier to maintain.

Unsure of what else to do, he dials the same number he did yesterday. Within seconds, he is greeted with: “Hello? This is Felicity Smoak, Queen Consolidated I.T. department.”

“I made your deadline. Back in the States, even called my mom,” Oliver informs her.

Felicity obviously isn’t expecting him to call, because she takes a few moments to process before replying. “Oh, Mr. Queen. Of course. Hi, yes. It’s good to hear from you. Not because I expected to hear from you, I’m not your girlfriend or something. Not that it’d a hardship to be your girlfriend, I’m just not your girlfriend. I didn’t mean to imply anything with that. I know I’m not your type- I mean, I don’t expect you to want to sleep with me. I mean, you do have a reputation, but I didn’t mean anything like that with it. Anyway, my mouth is running off, so I am going to stop now.”

She takes a deep breath, then starts over: “I meant to say: I’m glad you called, because I have been worried after what you had me do yesterday and I know you mom was too, so it’s good to hear that you’re safe.”

Oliver can’t help but huff out a short breath of laughter, which isn’t helped by Felicity’s soft muttered: “G-d, can’t go a day without humiliating myself.”

He decides to let her have most of her dignity and doesn’t respond to ninety percent of what she has said. “Truly, Oliver is fine. And I appreciate your concern. I’m all good.”

“That is good to hear.” Felicity sounds relieved that he doesn’t mention anything else from her ramble. She gathers herself and asks: “Was that all or can I help you with something else, Oliver.”

She’s testing out how his name sounds on her lips and he smiles involuntarily. Felicity truly is just a bright person, he’s drawn to her. However, it’s dangerous to let himself form attachments to anyone, especially people without his darkness. So he just says: “That was all, Felicity,” before saying his goodbyes and hanging up.

Diggle returns shortly after and the two resume their waiting. It’s not until three hours later, so six total, that Tatsu and Maseo enter accompanied by Amanda.

Oliver rises immediately when she enters, not out of any respect, but his instinct screaming not to be caught unawares by a predator. “Amanda, good to see you free,” he grins cockily, trying to cover that reaction to her.

Amanda gives him a mild smile, before greeting in turn: “Mr. Queen, good to have you back for another mission.”

“Mission is over, got debriefed and everything,” Oliver replies sharply, not giving her a second to think he’s actually back.

“Yes, I assume you will want to return home accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Yamashiro.”

Suspicion creeps up Oliver’s spine as he returns: “Yes, will that be a problem, Director Waller?”

“No,” Amanda says, smiling sharply since she knows she got on his nerves, that she still has that effect on him. “Mr. Yamashiro has officially earned his release from A.R.G.U.S. service with his testimony. They’re free to return to the public. We’ll release a statement about their survival tomorrow morning.”

“That is good to hear,” Oliver smiles. “Would it be too much to ask for transport home. You did kind of summon us away from it on short notice.”

While Amanda is still smiling politely, it is clear that she isn’t amused. She never is and Oliver doubts that’ll ever change. “Agent Micheals will have to return to Starling to finish her charade there. You can drive with her.”

“Thank you, I would say till next time, but let’s not and say we did,” Oliver says, before walking out of there, the others at his heels.

Once they’re over the threshold, Maseo leans in and says: “You can at least try to be polite to her, so we stay out of trouble.”

“You know me, Maseo. I’m never out of trouble,” Oliver grins, feeling too light and happy to care about all that right now.

“Let him have his fun, Waller is no longer our problem now,” Tatsu says, surprising Oliver, since she has never backed him up a day in her life. “Tell us more about how Akio is doing.”

“Well, you’ll loathe to hear that I’ve turned him into a spoiled American,” Oliver jokes. “I taught him to forget how to do his laundry and got him hooked on cheeseburgers.”

Now Tatsu is glaring at him. Oliver is almost entirely sure she doesn’t mean it, but not entirely. She never fully liked him and she might believe him. So to be sure, he quickly adds: “I’m joking. Well, about the laundry part. I did feed him cheeseburgers, but also veggies, I swear.”

At that Tatsu allows a bit of a smile to appear on her face and Oliver is now sure she was playing with him. He glares back, but knows it doesn’t have the same impact as hers. His glare can be intimidating, she just knows him too well to feel it.

The three of them are crammed in the backseat (not literally, the A.R.G.U.S. car is quite spacious), while Diggle takes up the front seat next to Lyla.

Tatsu and Maseo talk a little about how their weeks of hiding have been and how they ended up on that Yakuza ship. However, it’s mostly Oliver, who tells them all about what he and Akio have been up to, making sure to not leave anything out. These are his parents, they need to know what their child has been through, so they can support him.

Diggle pipes up sometimes, adding his own anecdotes or insights, but remains quiet mostly. Oliver is grateful for him, the man has a higher regard for his time as Akio’s guardian than Oliver has of himself.

When they arrive at the mansion, Oliver leans over to Diggle and asks: “Is this delivery also your resignation?”

“I’ll be here tomorrow morning, sir,” Diggle smiles and Oliver can’t help but smile back.

“Good, see you then,” Oliver says, glad Diggle is still on his side. Then he says his goodbyes to Diggle and Lyla, making sure to give the latter his thanks for her help.

He gets out of the car and sees Tatsu and Maseo stare at the mansion. It’s his childhood home, so he sometimes forgets it can be a lot to some. Cautiously, he asks: “Are you good?”

“That is a big house,” Maseo says.

“I get now why you did not know how to do your laundry,” Tatsu comments.

Oliver laughs, but before he can reply, the door is swung open. The other must have been looking out the window to wait for the car. Lit from the back stands Akio, face bright with a big smile as he exclaims: “Otōsan! Okāsan!”

[tacthescribbler]

Hit the like button at work, but wanted to reblog from home, where I could formulate a half-decent response. And I apologize, this will probably turn into a longer post. I promise my rambling will come full circle. I used to write damn near all the time in high school. Before I had a laptop, I carried notebooks. I even compartmentalized them in their own backpack. I wrote almost every day. I’d go home from school, do my homework, and then seemingly flip a switch into Writing Mode. Then, when I graduated, I left home for boot camp. I had assigned items that I was permitted to carry with me. One of those was a notebook, but I was only allowed to take training-related notes in it. For two and a half months, I did not write. I hardly had the brain capacity to think about my stories and characters.

(To be clear, I would not trade the experience for anything. But that’s a discussion for another time.) But the thing is: basic training is intended to change one’s brain. People go through psychological changes. The brain is physically changed, as well. New neural pathways are formed. Others are overwritten, so to speak. (I still don’t like wearing bracelets or earrings because of how ingrained certain uniform regulations are in my mind.)

I think that basic training changed my brain enough to change how I approach writing, and I haven’t yet been able to reconcile the person I was before boot camp with the person I was afterward. And I’ve changed even more since then, so... maybe it’s harder. I don’t know.

More than that, while I was still in the military, I started doing more and more professional, office-style writing. Emails and such. Not the creative prose that I wanted to be doing. In a way, I think this further separated me from writing what I wanted to write.

I tried to get back into my creative writing, and in an effort to push myself forward, I started reading information books. How-To’s on plot, character, dialogue, pacing, climax, denouement, and so on. My perfectionist brain fed on that material like a maggot growing fat on a corpse, and I suddenly started to fear my writing. I still do, in a way.

At this stage, I’ve not written reliably for more than 12 years. I want to write. I might even go so far as to say that I need to write.

When I first started talking to my current counselor, he had me write every day for the two weeks between our... second and third appointments, I think. Those writing sessions were their own little circles of hell. I felt like I was forcing the words, that everything I put to paper was contrived and clunky. But I wrote. Some days, it was a sentence. Other days, it was a few paragraphs. In the end, I had something I hated.

But despite how awful it felt to force the words out, I felt relieved and relaxed afterward. Like I’d done something healthy.

Steven Pressfield talks in his book “The War of Art” about the idea that every person has a calling (not necessarily in the religious sense). He says that every person has a thing that they feel internally called to do. For my sibling, it’s music. They’ve always been able to pick up a new instrument and learn it. They play everything by ear, and they don’t really do sheet music. Now, I’m paraphrasing here, but Pressfield talks about this calling being a self-fulfilling thing, and how a person’s calling is the thing they’ll do when they’re having a bad day. A runner doesn’t go home and sit on her ass. She hits the track. An artist will paint or draw. A cyclist will go get their bike. A person’s calling is what Jack London calls “self-remunerative” when he speaks of White Fang learning what it is to be a wolf.

For me, writing is that calling. And despite not writing for the last 12 years, I’ve had some realizations: We are allowed to write what we want. To write what makes us happy. The saying goes, “Write the story you want to read.”

Now, to loop back to the original series of posts: I’ve wanted to write the most boring shit for a while now. Maybe take a page from Jack London’s book (pun intended) and write about a creature or person as they move from one thing to the next. Jack London made it interesting, but I surely won’t. Still, if I can follow a creature from birth to death in the most boring way possible, maybe the dam will break and I’ll finally be able to write again.

Or... maybe I’ll never again be able to “flip the switch” on command, like I could in my childhood. One thing is for sure, I damn well want to try.

After all, I suspect many authors of the past intended no hidden meaning. We just attributed meaning in an effort to understand. But maybe there’s nothing to understand. Except the love of creation.

Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!

Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.

[stranger-marauders]

unbreakable

fifteen: drunk, stoned, and stupid

chapter summary: Kate processes the night’s events after she goes back home. After Steve finds Nancy and Jonathan in her room, he only knows one place to go.

chapter warnings: language, alcohol and drug use, implied cheating kind of?

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist | masterlist

KATE HAD ASKED Jonathan to drive her home after everything that happened.

While she didn't want to be alone for the night, she almost didn't want to invade on Nancy's privacy. Besides, she hadn't been home all day, and she was already worried about what her father would say to her about that.

That's why it shocked her when her father wasn't home again for the night once again. She didn't know if he was out at the bar getting his free Schlitz on Veteran's day or if he had to stay late to close out the Will Byers investigation before the weekend, but she couldn't think of a time where Hopper hadn't come back two nights in a row, the only sign of life currently being that he was passed out on the couch that morning.

When she went inside the trailer, she found that everything except her room was a total disaster. At first glance of the seemingly destroyed trailer, she went to her room, checking to make sure her notebook was still tucked carefully under her bed frame. When she found it there again, she held it in her hand, flopping down in her bed to write again. The rest of the trailer was now her father's problem, not hers.

As she wrote this time, she found herself getting lost, almost losing sense of everything else around her. That was something that seemed to happen whenever she'd felt a lot at once, whenever everything else in the world became too overwhelming—everything seemed to flow much easier whenever she wasn't stuck in her own head. Whenever her left hand started to get tired, she started to flip through the pages, reading through some of her old work.

The other notebooks she had were from when she was younger. She had about two or three other ones, mostly filled with nonsense. The older she got, the less the things she wrote read like diary entries, more like solid stories. She had those notebooks hidden under her bed as well, stuck between the mattress and the bed frame. She couldn't explain why she'd done that: she told herself that those things were private for now, and she didn't want anyone to read them until she had prepared her work to be put out there (not to mention that some of the things she wrote were embarrassing when she was younger, not to mention that they were most definitely about Steve, even if she didn't think so at the time). 

She jumped at the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. She walked out, looking at the clock—it was just past midnight, which was a little late for anyone to be calling. She thought that it could've been her father, maybe Jonathan or Nancy checking up on her. She didn't think too much about it before she picked up the phone.

She hadn't even had an opportunity to greet them before the person on the other end of the line spoke. "Please tell me this is Kathy."

She stifled a laugh. "It's me."

"Jesus Christ," he said, almost exhaling the words. His voice was brittle. "Where... Where've you been? I've been looking for you all day."

"Out," she said, not feeling the need to explain herself. "Why does it—wait a sec, have you been crying?"

Steve cleared his throat. "Uh... no."

Kate sighed. He also sounded trashed. "Aw, no, Steve, what happened?"

He took a shaky breath, hesitating to speak. "I'm coming to get you, okay?"

She chuckled. "Absolutely not, you sound like absolute shit. Just—" She sighed. "Just stay put. I'll get there as soon as possible, just—"

"No, no, no! There's no way in hell that I'm... I'm letting you walk, okay? It's... It's freezing, and I would be an... an absolute dick if I made you walk in this. Your dad would kill me. Just... Just stay there. I'll see you in ten." Before she could protest (especially to the ten minutes when it took fifteen to get to the trailer from his place), he hung up the phone, and Kate quickly started to try to put back together her disaster of a trailer. She didn't even want to know what had possessed her father to tear the trailer apart the way he had, but she did what she could to straighten up in the few minutes before Steve showed up, hopefully with him and his car in one piece.

Whenever he finally walked through the door, Kate found that Steve probably wouldn't notice the rest of the mess in the trailer—he wasn't exactly in stellar condition. His face had been somewhat blotchy, not to mention the fact that his hair had been messed up from how many times he'd presumably run his fingers through it. He was so trashed now that he hadn't cared about anything like that, which was what worried her more than anything.

Before she could say anything to her, he immediately engulfed her into a hug, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. "I thought something happened to you."

"Hey, I... I'm okay."

"Yeah? Don't... Don't ever do that to me again," he said. Was he crying? "I thought you were gone. I was so worried..."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said, pulling away from him to look at his face again. "I won't do it again."

He nodded, running his hands through his hair again. God, he was a mess.

"Steve...," she said, her heart starting to sink. "Did you drive here? Seriously, I didn't mind walking—"

"I wasn't drinking, I—"

"Getting stoned is just as bad!" she shouted at him. Kate sighed—she couldn't yell at him right now. It wasn't fair. "I'm not letting you go home like this." When she stepped closer to him, she scrunched her nose in disgust. "And just so you know, I can smell the booze, too."

Steve sighed defeatedly in response.

"What happened?"

He looked down to the ground, avoiding her eyes. "I... I—"

"Steve," she said, grabbing his hand. The gesture made him snap toward her again. Whenever she met his red and puffy eyes, she sighed, dragging him into the kitchen after her.

"What... What are you doing?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

"I'm getting you some water and chips," she said, pulling a glass from a cabinet and turning on the tap. She handed him a glass of water, then moving to grab some Pringles from another cabinet. Whenever she held the can in her hands, taking a chip for herself, she watched him carefully investigate the glass. "Drink it. Now."

Steve held his hand up in surrender, finishing the glass as quickly as possible before setting it on the counter, clearing his throat and taking the can from her. "Th–Thanks."

She sighed again, motioning for him to follow her. "All right, come on."

Kate had finally coaxed Steve into her room, getting him comfortable enough to hopefully make him explain what had happened to him. At first, Kate thought it was a result of a Friday night with Tommy, but his reasoning as to why he'd gotten crossfaded alone at his house was much worse.

Steve had told her he'd tried to go and talk to Nancy after she'd blown him off earlier that day. All he'd wanted was to check on her, make sure everything was okay. He'd climbed up the side of the Wheelers' house to get to Nancy's bedroom window only to find Jonathan with her in her bed together. After that, he'd dropped Tommy and Carol back off at his house, and at that point, he'd given up on trying to find Kate. Naturally, all that left was for Steve to get completely trashed on his own. That, on top of the other dozens of times he'd called her that day, was why Steve had been trying to get ahold of Kate so hard within the past couple of hours.

Kate hadn't really known what to say.

In a way, she was disappointed in Nancy, almost mad at her. She had taken advantage of Steve, or at least made it seem like she had. Nancy had been so lucky to have Steve care about her so much. It seemed cruel that Nancy would hook Steve in the first place just to get rid of him so quickly, that she could do that. Kate hated that Nancy had had Jonathan in her room so late on a Friday night, in her bed, but she also knew, hoped that there was more to the story—the three of them, while not close at all before the events of that week, certainly not before the events of that day, were now bonded for life after what they'd seen. Kate thought she would never see Bambi the same again (even though it was already tainted for her anyway), and she certainly knew that Nancy had had it worse than herself.

Of course, Steve didn't know about any of that.

She thought about telling Steve. God, she had told Steve everything since before she could remember, and hiding something like this from him now seemed like a sin. She also knew that right now, though, it would only make things worse. She hadn't seen Steve in such a fragile state in long time, and she didn't plan on adding to his pain. Right now, he needed her, and she was okay with that.

"You know, I really liked Nancy," Steve said, looking out Kate's window.

He had been leaning against Kate on her bed, letting her play with his hair as they sat with each other. Usually, Steve had been the one to comfort her, not the other way around. They were always at his house, mostly because it was so much nicer than her place, that and his parents were never home. At first, Kate feared she wouldn't be able to find anything for him, but luckily for her, she'd finally found some old clothes of his in a drawer from the last time he'd come over to her house. She'd put the clothes that he'd been wearing in the washer, trying to get the booze and pot smell out of them before his parents came home the next day. Now, though, she only thought about the present—she knew Steve had to be extremely out of it to let her touch his hair.

"I know," Kate said, frowning slightly. "You know, his brother's funeral was today. Nancy and Jonathan's brothers were, like, best friends, so maybe they were just talking? She was probably just, like... I don't know, comforting him or something." She paused. "Like me and you."

Steve shook his head. "They seemed pretty close."

She almost laughed at the thought. You and I are pretty close.

He sighed, slouching into her more. He didn't want to move. "It's fine, Kathy, really. I just wish it wasn't Nancy. She just... She seemed different, you know?"

Kate sighed, nodding slightly. "Yeah."

As much as Kate didn't want to admit it to herself, she could tell that Steve was so hurt by her. She hadn't thought him capable of it before, but she wondered now if her best friend was starting to fall in love with Nancy Wheeler.

Even if she thought she could read him well, Kate had no idea that his mind was currently running at a hundred miles an hour, his head starting to hurt because of how many things he'd been feeling at once.

Steve didn't know why he was so hung up on Nancy. Kate had been there, holding him after he'd shown up to her house absolutely wasted. He thought about all the times Kate had been there for him when no one else was, even when she shouldn't have been there. Even now, after she'd rightfully ignored him, she had immediately taken him in and tried to sober him up. 

His heart hurt almost as much as his head did, but it wasn't over Nancy. He tried to scream at himself to stop, to push it all away. He knew he wasn't allowed to feel this way, he couldn't feel this way, but he couldn't stop himself. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the fact that his back was pressed against her chest, her hands in his hair. He could hardly focus, even though it was just Kate. Every time he closed his eyes now, all he could think about was her smile, her laugh when she tried to hide whenever he made a stupid joke. He thought about the drip of sarcasm in all of her remarks, her kindness, even if she like to act as if she were cold-hearted. He thought about all the times when she'd made him feel like the best person in the world, even if he didn't deserve it in the slightest: only Kate could do that, even if so many others tried to. He thought about all of the feelings he'd locked deep somewhere far away, suddenly emerging yet familiarity striking him at the same time.

It almost drove him crazy.

Steve had stayed over at the trailer.

He'd almost forgotten where he was, waking up in Kate's bed. His pants clung to him, his skin clammy. At one point, he'd even pulled his shirt off of himself in the middle of the night, it being on the floor and still soaked with sweat. He was almost embarrassed that Kate had had to deal with him all night—he still looked like a wreck. He reached over to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. Whenever he realized she wasn't still in bed, he sat up, scanning the room for her. He found the clothes he'd been wearing the day before on Kate's desk, folded neatly in a stack.

He walked over to the desk carefully, trying not to make any sudden sounds. He jumped when he heard a clang from the kitchen, immediately followed by a soft, "goddammit." He listened closely as she continued to wash dishes, softly humming the song "Love of My Life."

What a dork. He figured she probably had headphones over her ears, not paying attention to anything around her. She must've thought he was still asleep. Otherwise, she wouldn't have dared make a sound, especially not humming, singing, or anything of the sort. Steve had always thought it was funny when she did that: hummed or sang softly when she thought she was alone. It was the only time he actually got to hear her for real. Every other time she liked to act like she was completely tone-deaf (while not the best singer, she certainly wasn't as bad as she pretended to be). 

He shook his head, trying not to smile. Steve pulled the freshly washed shirt from the day before over his head, walking out of Kate's room to find her drying the last dish she'd washed before putting it away. 

At first, he watched her carefully. She did, in fact, have headphones over her ears, the music playing so loudly that he could place where she was in the song. She was still wearing what he could only assume were her pajamas, which consisted of a pair of old pair of flannel pants and an old t-shirt (both of which he could only assume were his). Her hair was tied back in a low bun, assumably to prevent it from getting wet from dish water. She still hummed slightly, her attention more focused on the coffee she was now pouring for herself. When she connected the pot back to the machine, turning to reach her freshly-poured cup of coffee before she turned to lean on the counter. 

Steve had almost forgotten he was watching her until she'd finally noticed him, jumping back and sending her black coffee sloshing in the cup. Once she had realized it was him, not some weird tree-wall monster trying to kill her, her body relaxed, and she leaned back on the kitchen counter as she took a sip of her coffee after pulling her headphones off of her ears and leaving them to hang around her neck. "Good morning, princess."

He gave her an unreadable expression. "Morning."

"You know, I'm impressed you're awake right now."

"Was I that bad?"

"Yeah," Kate said, stifling a laugh. "But it's okay, I guess. I'm… I'm glad you came. It's not good for anyone to be alone like that."

He sighed, wiping his face. "Yeah."

She shrugged awkwardly after taking another sip of coffee. "Whatever. Shit happens. Life goes on." Whenever he didn't reply, she rubbed her nose. "Trust me, you'll find a girl better than her before Thanksgiving."

He forced a smile, pressing his lips together. "Yeah." Whenever she didn't say anything else, he sighed, looking to the door. "Well, hey, thanks for letting me stay. Thanks for my clothes, too, but I should, uh… I should probably get going. Before my parents get home. Make sure everything's in order."

That was a lie.

"Yeah," Kate said, looking to the ground absently. "Yeah, I have to go to work soon anyway."

That was another lie.

After grabbing his things and putting on the shoes, he walked out the door. "See you later."

Kate sighed, hurrying to finish her coffee so she could get ready before Jonathan and Nancy came for her again. She was in for a long one.

next chapter

taglist:

@thatsonezesty13 @cece5 @thepowerstoner @alovelytardis @coolchick333 @stand-tall-pineapple @littlet-holmes @guichu @cinderellacauseshebroke @blackbirddaredevil23 @mads-weasley

[johnkrrasinski]

started from a call

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 3,610

Warning: angst with a happy ending! that's all.

Summary: written for @wkemeup's 9k writing challenge with the prompt "character a leaves an embarrassing, drunk message on character b’s voicemail and spends the rest of the night trying to discreetly delete it from [b]’s phone." inspired by a bit of ross and rachel from friends too. you found out from steve that bucky was in love with you in high school but after he returns home with a girl in his arm, you cancelled your plans to tell him how you feel. will you and bucky have your happy ending?

a/n: please like, reblog and leave a feedback. :) enjoy!

"Alright, I'll see you tonight. Bye." He leaned against the kitchen counter and hung up the phone with a grin on his face. "You hear that, Sam? We're going on our third date tonight." He threw his phone up into the air and caught it so casually without spilling a drop of his coffee sitting on his right hand. "Looks like I'm getting that 300 bucks soon."

"Hey, easy. You ain't going to that date yet, who knows? She could bail on you. It doesn't count if the date doesn't end well."

"Oh, but it will. I just gotta turn on my charm and next thing you know, we're already meeting the parents stage."

"Meeting the parents? That's a big step from you, Buck."

"Hey, I'm a man of my words. If I said that I'm going to change this year then I'm gonna stick to it."

"So Leah isn't just a one-time thing to get 300 bucks?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no. We'll see how tonight goes. But one thing's for sure is that I'm getting that 300 bucks."

Sam and Bucky made a bet as their New Year's resolution that Bucky would never go on a second date with any girl or remember to call her in the morning after a wild night. His commitment issues had given him a reputation as the player in the gang. It wasn't a new thing anymore to anyone that when they visited Bucky's place in the morning, they would see a girl with a dopey smile and slightly ruffled hair walking out of his apartment, giddy that Bucky just made a promise to call her later.

You, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Steve were hanging out at Nat's place. The six of you had been friends since college. You, Nat, Bucky and Steve had known each other since high school and the four of you kept in touch despite going to separate universities. You met Wanda when you went to NYU and Steve met Sam while he was in Harvard. Long story short, after the four of you graduated, you and Wanda lived together as roommates and even started your own bakery business. Steve and Bucky lived in the same building as you and Natasha and Sam lived nearly alone. They were too independent for roommates. Don't even start on Natasha and how much she valued her personal space. That's how the six of you ended up here, gathered at your place on a Saturday afternoon.

"Are you gonna pick her up tonight?"

"Of course. Gonna clean up well, bring her some flowers and knock on her door at 7 pm precisely. Which girl isn't gonna fall for that?" Bucky walked over to the couch you and Nat were sitting on and leaned on the headrest, his arms caging both you and Natasha.

You didn't say anything nor did Natasha because she knew about your feelings for Bucky. Despite never feeling that way about Bucky in high school, your feelings changed a week ago after learning that Bucky used to be in love with you but never had the courage to tell you. That's why he never had a girlfriend during his high school years and he wanted to take you to prom and confess his feelings to you but he was too late. Another guy had already snooped in first.

You were his first love but it wasn't reciprocated until now. That's why in college, he learned how to get over you and slept with as many women as possible because he felt like he lost four years of his life of finding the one. He never intended to be a player and feed girls empty promises, it just kind of became his way of dating. He was too afraid that no one could live up to you yet he enjoyed being with women. Hence, the bet.

The day you found out from Steve about Bucky's past feelings for you while playing truth or dare, you immediately wanted to call him up but Bucky was out of town for a few days and as soon as he was back home, he had Leah in his arm. Your heart was crushed. Wanda told you that it would probably last for a few days and that he'd eventually be single again but you totally did not expect this thing to turn into something serious. You loved Sam with every fibre of your being, he was like the big brother you never had, but you wanted to curse him for making that bet.

So you just rolled your eyes and stayed silent throughout this entire conversation, even though your heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over again. "Alright, I gotta go. Got a big date tonight. I'll see you guys in a few hours." Just like that, Bucky walked out of the room without knowing the pain his words caused you.

The next day you were sitting in your bed watching The Notebook in your pyjamas because you were too heartbroken to do anything productive. It was Sunday so you could just have a whole day to yourself and do absolutely nothing but cry. Wanda knocked on your door bringing a plate of cookies and she had a pitiful look on her face. "y/n? Sweetie? I made you these cookies, they might make you feel better." Sometimes you thank the stars for bringing her into your life.

"Thank you, Wanda. You're so nice to me." You know you probably sound like a hormonal whiny kid but everything made you cry at the moment.

"Do you need anything else? I know how it feels to get your heartbroken, trust me. When me and Vision had a fight and we didn't talk for days all I wanted was to curl up and never leave my bed, so in case you need anything, I'm here." She offered you that warm smile of hers.

"No, all I want right now is to just eat these cookies and go back to my film, thanks Wan."

"Okay, I'll be outside." Your pity party was interrupted when Nat arrived in her leather jacket and burst into your room.

"Get up, you are taking a shower and you're getting that face beat."

"Natasha, what the hell? Leave me alone."

"Y/N, listen to me. I got a date for you. His name is Scott and he's a real nice guy, he's funny, he's a good friend of mine and he is really smart. He is so much better than Bucky, I promise you. Now c'mon, I already told him that you are meeting him tonight at Stark's restaurant at 7."

You whined, doing anything you can to get her to leave you alone with your tears and your cookies but you knew that once Natasha set her mind on something, there's no talking her way out of it. Damn that woman with her determination.

"Y/N, c'mon! Wallowing all day isn't you. I know you and what's good for you. That's why I found you a great guy who will charm you so good that you will forget Barnes even existed. You can't let him win, y/n. If he's going to be happy with someone else, then you better show him that you can be much happier with other people."

You stared at her, trying to absorb her words. There's some wisdom in that. You're not the type to cry over a guy, not even for even Bucky Barnes. So you let Natasha drag you to the shower and asked Wanda to do your hair when she does your makeup. She chose an outfit for you, a dress that was not too sexy but chic enough to leave a good first impression.

Scott was early to the restaurant and he looked elated to see you. He was wearing a grey suit with no tie and he had a really exuberant smile on his face, the type that drew people easily. You could see why Natasha called him a nice guy.

"Wow, sorry, I just- didn't expect you to be this beautiful."

"Ah, thank you, Scott. Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not at all. I just arrived here like five minutes ago."

The night went on and Scott did most of the asking and talking, you answered each question curtly with forced enthusiasm in your face and body language. You weren't even listening to half of the things he said because your mind kept playing images of Bucky with Leah and how you heard from Sam that the date went well so he lost 300 bucks. You kept thinking about Bucky and Leah and how they would probably get married and have kids and live in the suburbs with a golden retriever while you'd still be single and you'd compare every man you meet to Bucky. Maybe it was your karma for not reciprocating his feelings in high school.

Five glasses of wine and you spent more time nodding than talking. Honestly, all you wanted to do was to just go home and go back to The Notebook because their love story was much better than your love life. Scott woke you out of your daze, "Natasha told you that I was cuter than this, did she?" after you gulped your sixth glass of wine.

"Oh Scott, I'm so sorry. It's not you, it's me. I know it sounds cliche but it's just... I'm not in a place where I'm looking for a boyfriend. You are a really likeable guy and I swear, if we had met at another time, maybe I would be a better date but right now, I just- I have someone else in my mind." You sighed, it felt like a relief to get that off your chest.

"Is this guy... an ex-boyfriend?"

You chuckled, "no... He wishes."

Scott nodded, "look, I don't know what your situation is but I've been through a divorce and it's never easy. But eventually, you'll be fine. You can't see it now because you haven't had closure." Then it was as if the bulb above your head was turned on.

"That's it.  Closure, yeah. That's all I need. Okay, give me a minute. I'm gonna call him now and I'm going to get my closure."

Scott sat there watching you comically trying to find your phone in your purse and tapped on Bucky's contact number. The normal you would be sweating with every ring but intoxicated you had no worries in the world... For now.

"This is Bucky. Can't pick up right now, leave a message." Beep.

"Hello, yes, Bucky! Or James, should I call you James? I always thought Bucky was a weird name. Anyways, I'm just calling to tell you that I am fine and I am on a date with Scott. And speaking of dates, I just gotta tell you that I'm happy to hear that your date went well. And that, my friend, means that I am over you. That's right, I'm over you. Tell Leah I say hi." You said sarcastically.

You hung up the phone and threw your phone back into your purse. You felt like you just won a chess game.

The next morning you decided to sleep in because your heart was pounding and you could barely sit up without feeling like you might fall. You were supposed to be working at the bakery but since you owned the bakery, Wanda let you sleep it off until you recover. You couldn't remember anything from last night, how you got back to your apartment was a mystery. You tried to put the pictures together, from being forced to go on a date, meeting a guy named Sean? Simon? Sebastian? Scott! Yes, Scott. You ordered your meals and then... Nothing, it was all blurry. You weren't even sure if anything happened at all after eating your meals.

The apartment was empty because Wanda was working at the bakery and it was just you with your hangover pills. Bucky came to your apartment without knocking because Wanda told him on the phone that you were home. He greeted you with a smile and asked about your date.

"Uh, let's see. I think there was a restaurant, I know there was wine. And there's a guy, Scott and pretty much that's all I can recall."

Bucky made a yikes face. Seeing the state you were in, he could do the math (of the wine you had). You probably enjoyed the alcohol more than the guy. What a doofus, he thought. If he was the one going on a date with you, you'd definitely remember every detail from last night.

"Leah's downstairs and I'm taking her back to her place but I left my keys here last night. Have you seen it?"

"No, check the drawers. Maybe Wanda put 'em there."

"Ah, okay." He opened the drawers and found the keys to his bike.

"Did we... Speak on the phone last night?"

"Nope, my phone was dead and I didn't charge it all night so I haven't really checked it. Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just... Never mind. My memories are a bit hazy right now. You should go, say hi to Leah for me."

Bucky nodded as you walked back to your room to go lie down. Your question reminded him that he should probably check his phone now because there could be work-related messages but the first thing he heard was a voicemail from you. "Oh, y/n. I got your message!"

That instantly stopped you in your tracks. Your eyes went wide and you froze. You immediately turned around and ran to grab his phone away from him. Bucky had a confused look on his face, "who's Scott?"

"Oh my God, no, Bucky, give me the phone. Give me the phone!" But it was already too late, he was already halfway through your voicemail and by the time you successfully snatched his phone out of his grasp, he had already heard every word.

Bucky stood there dumbfounded, he needed time to process everything you just said to him. "What do you- what do you mean you're over me?"

"Oh, God... Alright, um- lately, I've um- sort of, have... Feelings for you." You never had to chase a guy or confess your crush first so this felt new and my God, it was nerve-racking.

"You have feelings for me..." He said it as if he was convincing himself that his ears got it right. Bucky couldn't believe the words that just escaped through your lips, for years he had dreamed of this moment. Though never did he ever want you to make the first move but adolescent him wanted to hear you say what he'd been wanting to say to you too.

He didn't say anything for what felt like minutes and you couldn't decipher his thoughts from the look on his face. "I need to sit down," he pulled one of the dining chairs and leaned on his side in a defeated posture.

"Bucky... Please say something." You alerted him in a hushed tone, not wanting to startle him than you already did. But he didn't. He was lost at words. What the hell was he supposed to tell her?

"Look Bucky, I'm sorry for telling you this way but I had to. I just- I've been wanting to talk to you about it since you came back to New York, well- actually, since Steve told me but-"

"Whoa, Steve told you?!" He interrupted.

"Yeah, it just accidentally slipped when we were playing truth or dare..."

"Okay well," he stood up from his seat, yet he still couldn't look you in the eye. "I can't do this right now, Leah's waiting for me downstairs and I gotta go." He basically ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

Once your hangover had begun dissipating, you decided to help Wanda at the bakery and took the night shift. She must've been exhausted from managing the bakery alone while also helping the employees in the kitchen so you told her to go home and leave it to you. The bakery's usually slower at night.

When it was nearing closing time and your employees had gone home, you decided to clean up and turned off the lights and checked everything one last time before locking the door. The bell above the door dinged and you were slightly annoyed because who the hell comes to the bakery at this hour?

"I'm sorry we're clo...sed." It was Bucky. He stood there in a black coat, with an expression you still couldn't figure out. "Bucky, what are you-"

"You have no right to tell me that you've got feelings for me." His tone was harsh, he never spoke that way to you or anyone... Ever.

"What?"

He walked closer to you, maintaining his gaze, "You can not tell me that you've got feelings for me now when I'm doing well with my life and Leah..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I was in love with you for years! Years, y/n! And you never said and did anything and now when everything's going well you're ruining it!"

"I am ruining it?" You repeated the question because you couldn't believe what you just heard. How dare he said those hurtful things to you.

"Yes! I was doing fine with Leah and now I don't know what's going to happen with me and her anymore..."

"Yeah, well, I was doing fine before I found out that YOU were in love with me and never had the balls to tell me!" You did everything you could to not cry, you hated crying in the middle of an argument.

"Hey, it's not like I didn't try. There were your ex-boyfriends and your dates and I had to move on. I couldn't wait forever! And now, now you're too late."

"Oh, so what? You're just gonna walk away and pretend that this never happened?"

"Yes, I'm going to do exactly that and I'm going to go see Leah." He turned around like he did earlier in your apartment and left you alone once again with your heartbreak.

"Fine! Go ahead and see Leah because I don't give a fuck about cowards like you or whoever you sleep with." You slammed the door and tried everything you could to not have a breakdown here because you really hated letting an argument hurt you. You sat on one of the chairs where the customers would sit and you hid your face with your hands and cried.

Not because you just lost an argument but because of what Bucky said and it felt like you had lost Bucky before you even had him. Now there was no hope left for you and Bucky, things were too complicated.

You didn't know how long you had cried there, alone, in the dimmed lighting of your shop but after you felt like the tears had dried, you wiped the traces of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your thumb. You stood from your seat and was ready to go home. You couldn't wait to eat some leftover pizzas, take a warm shower and cry into your pillows until you fall asleep.

But when you were about to leave, you saw Bucky standing on the other side of the door, watching you through the windows with a softer expression on his face. You opened the door and Bucky instantly grabbed your waist and kissed you as if his life depended on it.

You gave in to his kiss, letting him pour every desire and yearning into your lips for as long as he wanted. You grabbed his face because you wanted him impossibly closer and you shut your eyes, letting your guard down. Because it was Bucky, and you'd known him for as long as you could remember and you both deserved this moment.

Bucky eventually pulled away until both of you were running out of air. You were breathless from his kiss, you never knew he was such a good kisser. (It's Bucky and he's had a lot of women on his bed, of course, he was excellent at it. Who were you kidding?) But now that you've had your own front-row experience, you felt a tad of possessiveness at the thought of sharing those lips or any part of him with anyone else.

"I couldn't go back to her knowing you are here alone and I had thrown away what I've wanted for as long as I could remember."

"I'm glad you came back." You pressed your foreheads and you rested your hands on his chest. You could get used to this.

"I hope it's not too late to say this but, y/n y/l/n, will you let me take you to dinner and see a movie after maybe?"

"I wasn't the one who said it's too late," you halfheartedly teased him.

"Shut up, so is that a yes or a no?"

You bit your lip and nodded, "yes. Definitely a yes." You stared into his ocean blue eyes, so deep and beautiful, you could easily get lost in it.

"y/n y/ln, I'm going to put all of your ex-boyfriends to shame."

"Hm, we'll see about that." You put your arms around his neck. Then a thought crossed your mind and your smile faded away, "what are you gonna do about Leah though?"

"I'll talk to her in the morning. Let's take you home now, yeah? It's getting late."

You bit your lip and nodded, "okay."

Ninth grade you dreamed of popular jocks and athletic seniors, but little did you know that, sometimes, the one who sincerely loved you was the book nerd who loved The Hobbit a little too much.

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Narcissist (alpha!readerxOmega!Bakugo soulmate au)

An: this is heavily inspired by the song narcissist by younger hunger definitely recommend listening to it!

An: BIG TY TO MY BETA FOR EDITING THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER OF A FIC WE STAN!

Word count: 3.2k (ur welcome)

Summary: Bakugo being a little shit basically- Mina and Denki r sick of him- reader runs out of scent blockers-

Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, Bakugo being a dick, reader just thinks he’s hot, gets a bit spicy but nothing graphic, non traditional dynamics (subby alphas) drug use (weed)

You were in a familiar room, one you’d come to love since you’d started dreaming of it, and you sat on the bed and waited… any moment now.

“Oi, are you here, shithead?” The voice of your omega was dreamier than it was in real life; his harsh words unable to punctuate the tranquility of your dream.

“I always am, Katsuki!” You chirped, grinning as he slowly faded into existence. The black tank top and jeans he wears make him look far too good, and your brain short-circuited for a few seconds.

“I told you not to fucking call me that!” He growled, but you only laughed. Reaching out to grab his hands before he could stop you, you pull him down so you could kiss him. Any anger he had quickly melted away, and Katsuki had pulled one hand away to rest on your shoulder and pushed back. You got the point, you pulled away for air and leaned back on your elbows as you did. Katsuki followed and straddled you without a moment of hesitation. His mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a hum. With one hand gravitating to tangle in his hair, he gave you another push that had you lying flat on your back.

“Hey-”

“Shut the fuck up, don’t ruin this.” Katsuki bit down on your throat and you squeaked, although he licked over the mark seconds later to soothe it, and only pulled away to kiss you when you tried to talk again. You melted, let your hands wander down to his thighs, and had your thumbs rubbing absent-minded circles. Then, Katsuki was unbuttoning the shirt you had on, hands quickly trailing lower to-

“Y/N! Did you hear what Mr. Aizawa said?” Mina’s voice brought you back from the dream you had the night before, and you blinked at her as you blanked.

“No way I'm working with their dumbass!” Katsuki snarled as Kiri forced him into a seat at your table, and you turned your head to Sero with a questioning look. He usually knew what was going on in class.

“We have a group project for a presentation, Mr. Aizawa picked the groups-”

“Oh hell yeah, all my best bro’s working together? Sounds like fun to me!” Denki leaned over to hug you and Mina, and the pieces started to click together. You were working on an art project, with your mate, who hate-

“How could anything be fun with Y/n around, they fucking ruin everything.” Katsuki grumbled to himself, refusing to meet your eyes despite sitting opposite you. Kiri mouthed an apology to you from his seat next to Katsuki. Honestly, you had no idea why he’d decided to act like… such a brat really, but it was just an act, however annoying it was. The two of you were soulmates, he’d come around, eventually.

“Oh hush, Bakugo, Y/n’s a riot and we all know it! You’re the one who goes to sleep at like, 8pm” Denki came to your aid. The electric blonde then pressed a kiss to your cheek that had Katsuki gritting his teeth.

“So, what's the project, guys?” You flipped through your book to a fresh page, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for the others to speak.

“We have to show the versatility of styles and composition under a singular theme!” Kiri was the one that answered you, and the group immediately started throwing around ideas.

“I think we could do horror, a lot of horror artists have different composition styles and still manage to convey the-”

“Tch, that’s the best you could come up with? I’m not surprised, an alpha as shitty as you can’t be capable of any decent ideas.” Katsuki sneered, but you only smiled at him as the group agreed with your idea. Your omega merely grumbled and hunched over in his seat as the group discussed the different artists you could use as examples.

You’d stayed late to double-check something with a professor, and you were still flipping through your notebook as you walked through the unusually empty halls. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and before you knew it you ran into someone, the same someone who shoved you against a wall seconds later, but your fear subsided when you realised it was just Katsuki.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, dipshit.” Katsuki wasn’t even sure why he’d pushed you up against the wall, but being this close to you, touching you… it was..nice…

“Tch, god your scent is so weak, you smell like a fucking beta, how’d I get stuck with such a runt, huh? Some sick kind of joke.” Katsuki’s tone didn't match what he was saying. The way he leaned forward to rub his cheek over your scent gland definitely said otherwise, but you stayed quiet, he always found some excuse to scent you, but he’d usually get embarrassed and storm off if you dared to say anything.

“You’re pathetic, you know? Being this submissive for an omega, are you sure you’re not a beta? It’d make more sense.” You bit your lip when Bakugo pressed a kiss to your neck, only hesitating a moment before he started sucking a mark onto your skin. His words bounced right off of you because all you could focus on was how hot he was and how he’d subconsciously put his thigh between your legs and thank fuck you were on scent blockers, or you’d never hear the end of it.

“Really, you aren’t even going to try and defend yourself? You’re even weaker than I thought.” A growl next to your ear made you shiver, and Katsuki pushed away with a snarl when he was satisfied. He cursed at you again and warned you ‘not to tell anyone or he’d kick your ass’ (he wouldn’t) before he walked away, leaving you to walk home with your head completely in the clouds.

“What took you so fucking long, huh idiot?” Katsuki was on you the second you appeared in the dream, pulling you down into a rather ferocious kiss before you could say anything. He bit your lip when you didn’t open your mouth fast enough, swallowing any protests you would have made, and continued to kiss you until you were dizzy. “I’ve been waiting two hours…” He pulled away to kiss under your jaw, and if you didn’t know him so well you’d miss the insecure tone in his voice.

“Sorry, Midoriya wanted-” You stopped when Katsuki growled, biting down so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.

“Why the fuck are you saying his name here, huh? Are you tryna piss me off?” He pulled away to sneer at you. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words died in your throat when he unzipped your hoodie, and any coherent thought you had went out the window when he started to kiss your neck.

Everything was ready. The lounge room was set up, complete with snacks, drinks, and stationery for you and your friends to work on the project. They were meant to be here any second, and you couldn’t help but hover near the door to your apartment. You weren’t used to having people over and it still put you on edge having others in your space. But that thought left your head when a knock sounded on your door. You quickly opened it and were almost knocked over by Denki and Mina engulfing you in a hug.

“Thanks so much for hosting bro!”

“Awww you laid out all these snacks and stuff too! An omega’s gonna be really lucky to have you one day Y/n!” They pushed inside. Denki closed the door as Mina oohed and aahed over the setup, their praise had a slight blush rising to your face as you sheepishly rubbed your neck. Sero was next, quickly hugging you before he joined Denki and Mina, then Katsuki and Kirishima last. The blonde pushed past you without saying hello, but Kiri pulled you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe for a second, and was complimenting the setup as you took a seat. You tried to sit next to Mina, but Denki let out a whine and the pair was pulling you down between them before you had time to protest. Denki immediately leaned on you once you were settled. Katsuki couldn’t focus on the project, how could he, when his two dipshit friends were all over his mate. And you weren’t even doing anything to stop them! In fact, you were leaning into their hugs and giggling at every stupid joke they made! It had Katsuki fuming. Kirishima was the only one close enough to smell the angry shift in his scent, and he glanced between his friend and you, slowly putting the pieces together. You really had no idea what was happening, but Denki’s head was on your shoulder, and Mina’s arm around your waist as she asked questions about the project, giggling and pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever you got confused, which happened more than you’d like to admit. The blonde gritted his teeth when Mina’s hand went to your thigh, you were his! Nobody else should ever be touching you like that! You should know better! So when you excused yourself to grab something from your room, of course he made up some excuse about needing the bathroom so he could follow you.

The door to your room closed with a click, and you quickly spun around, expecting to see Mina or Denki, anyone except Katsuki to be honest.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was seeing red at this point. He cornered you and made you stumble back until your waist hit your desk.

“Uh- getting more pens-?” You held out the pack of pens with a confused look on your face that only made Katsuki angrier. How were you so stupid? And so fucking cute when you were- he cut off that thought, he needed to focus on yelling at you. Not the way your brows furrowed and how you nervously bite your lip as you waited for him to say something. Wait- were you blushing? Fuck, maybe he should-

“Katsuki? Are you oka-“

“Shut the fuck up, dipshit.” He snarled. Then, catching you both off guard, he leaned forward and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately. He’d only kissed you in your dreams, which was nothing compared to this, and you hesitantly placed your hands on his waist. His hands went to your hair to pull you closer, tugging it until you got the message and parted your lips for him. Katsuki let out a hum of approval as he deepened the kiss, why hadn’t he done this sooner? You couldn’t focus on anything other than how much Katsuki tasted like caramel, he didn’t taste like caramel in the dreams. You couldn’t help but whine when he pulled back. Another insistent tug on your hair had you tilting your head back, and Katsuki didn’t waste any time kissing over your neck. You were so lost in the feeling you almost missed the words he growled against your skin.

“You should know better, you’re mine. Other people shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that.”

“Do you think they’re like…. Finally-” Mina made a hand gesture that had Denki cackling, even Kiri cracked a smile.

“I hope so, it’s getting hard to watch all the back and forth.” Sero sighed, dropped his pen, and stretched.

“Yeah, have you seen how mad Bakubro gets though? It’s pretty fun to push his buttons like this!” Denki grinned as he leaned his head on Mina’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“I don’t know… Bakugo’s uh… stubborn, to put it nicely.”

“Your scent is weird… are you wearing a different perfume?” Mina leaned her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at Katsuki. After whatever the fuck had happened in your room, he’d gone back to acting like he hated you, so, you’d kept letting Denki and Mina do whatever they wanted. He had his eyes fixated on the work, and you turned back to Mina with a smile.

“Oh, sorry about that! I forgot to refill my scent blockers and my doctor’s not available until next week.”

“Don’t be sorry, bro! It’s nice, like really, really nice!” Denki came up behind you, throwing a quick glance at Katsuki before he leaned forward, crooning and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland, Mina doing the same a moment later. The pen Katsuki was holding snapped, his angry scent pumping out in waves as he glared daggers into the book in front of him, all too aware of you laughing.

You were hyper-aware of how strong your scent was, this was the longest you’d gone without scent blockers since you’d presented, and you’d lit a scented candle to try and cover it up. It hadn’t really worked, maybe you should light some incense-

“Y/n! Sorry we’re early!” Mina’s hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before you smiled. Denki cut you off before you could apologize about your scent.

“Damn Y/n! It smells like you baked cookies- oh my god did you bake-”

“Don’t be stupid, babe, it’s just their scent.” Mina shoved him inside, shaking her head as she followed and closed the door behind her.

“Oh! Of course!” Denki nodded, and he and Mina linked arms with you. They walked you over to the couch and sat you all down with grins on their faces.

“Uh… guys-?” You didn’t trust that look, it never leads to anything good.

“Well, since the project is like, 99.5% done-” Mina started, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“We thought we deserved a reward!” Denki interrupted, reaching into his bag and producing a blunt. You felt your own grin forming.

“Oh my god- is that from-”

“Shinso! You know he sells the best stuff on campus, I decided to splurge for my bros!” Denki looked incredibly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but tackle the blonde in a hug.

“Oh my god Denki, you’re the best!”

The three of you were blazed by the time the others got there. Sero happily bounced over to share the blunt, while Katsuki and Kiri just sighed and sat down with you. Katsuki’s eyes instantly zoned in on where you were lying on Mina and Denki on the couch. He was oddly silent as he tried to keep his cool, the nagging thoughts that had always been there slowly got stronger. He’d always had to be strong, people perceived him as weak just because of his dynamic, so he’d rejected the thought of being with an alpha, hoping for a beta or omega. Or you. You never made a big deal out of your dynamic, and always treated him as an equal. Then the dreams started. He loved you, he really did! But his whole reputation would go down the drain if he was claimed by an alpha, especially one with such a weak scent and mild presence. So…. he pretended to hate you in public because the two of you had your dreams, where nobody could judge him! Even if they did pale in comparison to real life. But lately… he couldn’t stop wondering… were you getting tired of waiting? With the way you were acting… the thought made his stomach turn and his canines come out. Especially since you had run out of blockers. Your scent getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. You were his alpha! You shouldn’t be scenting other people! Especially omegas! And you certainly shouldn’t be laying on them while you were ignoring him! You hadn’t even said hello to him! You were too busy getting high with those assholes like you didn't belong to him! You were his, it wasn’t fair!

Mina was the last out of the apartment. She kissed your cheek and winked at you as the door closed. The exhaustion set in as you leaned against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Katsuki growled and made you startled when you saw him by the table. You only shrugged as you went to pack up the stuff on the couch.

“Denki got us some weed because the project was done-”

“Not that, dickhead! They were all over you!” He marched over to you, trying to ignore how good you smelled up close.

“And? We’re not-” You responded, and Katsuki was shoving you before he realized, ignoring the way you yelped as you fell on the couch. You sprawled on your back and glaring up at him.

“Katsuki! What the fuck!” Katsuki didn’t reply, eyes traveling over your vulnerable form. Flush rose to his face as he realized how provocative the position was, causing warmth to pool in his tummy. If kissing was so much better in reality, what would it be like to be inside you? Feel you clench around him and pull his hair when he hit your sweet spot? Would your thighs shake the same in real life when he just kept going? The omega didn’t even realize his scent had changed, he just licked his lips and stared at you with hooded eyes, fuck he wanted-

“Are you okay? You zoned out.” Fuck, when had you gotten up? You were so close now, your scent overwhelming. He never wanted you to go on blockers again.

“Fuck, Katsuki! Katsuki! Are you in heat?” It finally dawned on you. Katsuki’s scent had taken on a sweeter tone it didn’t usually have, and with the way he kept zoning out, it was obvious. Plus thoughts of him on top of you that wouldn’t leave your brain alone. Your question snapped him out of his daze, and the omega snarled at you, stepping back and stumbling when a jolt of pain went through him.

“Fuck off, like you could trigger-” His voice cut off as another wave of pain went through him, causing you to reached out to steady him without thinking. The omega was going to let out a growl but it quickly changed to a whine as it escaped his mouth. You pulled your hand back like it had burned, although your mate’s temperature was so high it wasn’t out of the question. You took two steps back and froze when a feral snarl ripped through the room, dark red eyes pinning you in your place.

“He-hey Katsuki…” Your voice stopped his growling, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to stay coherent as he advanced, your rut already trying to cloud your judgment. Your eyes darted around the room, maybe you could make it to the bathroom? Then Katsuki could ride out his heat and you could talk about it? yeah. Katsuki was only a foot away from you now, the grin he had on was somehow more unsettling than the snarl, and you shook your head to get some of your resolve back. Okay, three, two, one-

You made it maybe ten centimeters before Katuski caught you, and pushed you back down on the couch. He wasted no time sitting on your lap and tilting your face up to look into his eyes.

“You’re not getting away from me, Alpha. I know you want this. I should have done this months ago.” Sincerity shone through your omega’s lidded eyes, and you felt your small shred of resolve shrink away even more. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away.

“Ka-Katsuki it’s just- just your heat, you don’t mean-“

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, alpha.” Katsuki was back to growling at you. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinned them down, and used his knees to keep them in place. He went back to cupping your face, red eyes boring into yours as he thought of what to say and a growl leaving him whenever you dared to look away. You were so, so obnoxiously pretty, it made it even harder to focus. Katsuki kept getting distracted by little details, like how your eyes shone and you kept biting your lip.

“You’re so fuckin stupid, ya know that? Of course, I fuckin want you, you’re my alpha- I don’t… I don’t care what other people think anymore, I just want you.” Katsuki’s tone was softer than you expected, and you could only gape at him as a blush quickly rose to your face. You knew he didn’t hate you, but hearing him say that lifted a weight off your shoulders you’d been carrying for who knows how long. The moment passed, all the softness went away as Katsuki leaned down to kiss you, and this time you kissed him back without any reservations.

[kunimikat]

How they act after you break up with them.

(I made sure to check but there might be small grammar errors, and this is a long one so strap in 🙇, but hope you enjoy angst+fluff here) but not me actually feeling bad for them after-

Is more out of it then usual.

The reason you broke up with him is because you felt like it wasn’t a real relationship. And more like you sometimes got to talk during class, and sometimes out of school.

He writes in his a separate notebook of ways he could’ve done better

Starts comparing himself to other guys more often

Leaves earlier then everyone else to got to dorms.

Mumbles even more then usual, and sometimes the only person that can snap him out of it is Aizawa.

Sometimes takes it out on his friends

“Hey Deku!-“

“Not right now Uraraka.”

“Oi, Deku nerd, the-“

“Can you not right now Kacchan?”

“HAAH?-“

“Midoryia! Would you like to study?”

“Maybe later Iida...”

Todoroki offered him soba but it resulted in Midoriya slowly slurping up soba as he looked into the void of people

He shut everyone one out and didn’t talk barely most of the week.

He’d take out a lot of his anger during training.

It somehow finally clicks into place how bad you feel and how much you miss him when All Might pull you aside and asks. “Uhhh...Is Young Midoriya ok? I’m getting real worried....ITS NOT LIKE I DONT WORRY ABOUT MY OTHER STUDENTS HAHAHA! HOW’S-

There’s 15 minutes of your life awkwardly telling All Might how all your classmates are doing.

Which made you want to jump off the top of UA at the moment.

You decide to head to his dorm and ask him about it, cause you feel like it’s your fault.

You walk in on him crying, clutching the shirt you bought for him on his birthday.

You almost dropped to your knees in guilt at the sight

You rushed over and sat by him, comforting him, though it wasn’t much as you started crying too.

Basically a crying festival for an hour.

“Please....Please Y/N I love you so much, I promise I’ll make it work, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you, just please...PLEASE don’t leave me.” You kiss him on the lips and then his hand, “Babe it’s not all on you, I promise I’ll do better this time too, I’m so sorry for being selfish, I love you, ok?” Another crying fest.

After you start dating again:

Always makes sure you’re comfortable, and checks into your dorm before he starts a study session.

Helps you with your work before his. ( Though you insist he doesn’t as he’s gotten points off multiple times for turning in his work late.)

Goes on dates every time you have some free space in your schedules. Somehow ends up in an All Might merch shop 80% of the time.

!!CUDDLE SESSIONS AFTER HERO TRAINING AT ALL TIMES!! Even in Recovery Girl’s office, though many times she bops you both on the head and tells you to get out.

(If you both like All Might) You both geek out over new All Might stuff, and his old interviews while wearing an All Might onesies.

(If you like a different hero) You could spend hours bickering on who’s best hero, pulling up recordings and articles on the. With you holding your favorite hero plushie and him wearing All Might pajamas.

And waking up early just to take a long route to school together.

Makes sure to say ‘I love you’ at every small moment, and compliments you, though he can’t take compliments himself-

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“I...I understand, but why?”

Tears well up in his eyes and he for once he keeps eye contact with you, without looking away

It takes everything in you to not breakdown

“I’m sorry Izuku, I just don’t think it’ll work out in the end.” He grabs your hand and holds it both of his. He puts it to his forehead, nearly on his knees at this point. You try not to cry with him, but you knew it wasn’t going to end up a happily ever after in the end. And you wanted to break it off before that could happen.

“Izuku, I know, I know, I’m so sorry, I wish it couldn’t end like this-“

“Then don’t let it. Please Y/N don’t let this end.”

You eyes welled up as you put a hand over your mouth while repeating ‘I’m sorry, so sorry Izuku’. You looked away from him as you slipped your hand out of his, you close your eyes painfully, the tears finally running down your face. You couldn’t help but look back one more time, and almost wanted to run to where he was and take it all back. He sat on his knees, his head in his hands as painful sobs wracked his body. You quickly leave the room, shutting the door behind you.

You both were pretty quiet and emotionless the whole week.

Midoriya was even worse then before,

It got to the point where sometimes he didn’t eat or sleep

He barely responded to anything anyone said

Hell, even Bakugo was worried at some point

Midoriya would always go back to his dorm and cuddle with the gifts you gave him while you were dating.

It took a long time for him to get over it, and even when he thought it did, he still gets emotional over it

Even after highschool it pains him to see your off doing your own thing without you at his side the whole time

Quieter then usual

Is so deep in thought, sometimes forgets he’s in class or what he’s doing

During tests, or while working on assignments he’d be so deep in thought he didn’t realize he broke his pencil, or used his quirk on his desk

Instead of having his usual outburst on people he’d just walk off, or click his tounge and walk off

Even during Hero Lessons he’d be less calculated, and not as pumped up

When anyone tried to ask he’d just say “Fuck off, I’m fine.”

His grades slightly dropped

He had bags under his eyes, and had even worse posture then usual

When it came time to leave, he’d be the first one out, and no one could find out where he’d go

A permanent frown was on his face at all times (basically him most of time but with a deeper frown)

No one knew what to do at this point

It didn’t click with you until one day during Hero Lessons

He was sparring with Kirishima and all of a sudden he fainted

Everyone was surprised to say the most

You rushed with Kirishima to Recover Girls office

You both almost busted the door off it’s hinges

She wacked you both on the head but quickly tended to Bakugo, surprising you both as she checked on him

“Oh....I wouldn’t have expected this from Bakugo.” You and Kirishima had confused looks on your faces. “Well he passed out from exhaustion, which I usually see with that foolish Midoriya boy. This one usually keeps up with himself, something must’ve happened.” She cut herself off as she saw the look on your face that said it all. She beckons Kirishima to follow her out, as he still wasn’t getting what was happening.

You finally got a good look at him, and saw just how exhausted he looked. The bags under his eyes, his bruised body, and how pained he looked in his sleep. You hugged the non-bruised part of his arm, and finally let the tears you held let go. “I’m sorry Katsuki...I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” Before you realized he woke up, he placed his free hand on your head, rubbing small and soothing circles on your head. “S’okay, let’s make this work.” You knew you didn’t have to say anything else as you both stayed like that until Recovery Girl came in to kick you both out.

After you start dating again:

Comes to your dorm everyday to get you up knowing you’d oversleep if he didn’t (also wants to see your sleeping face...not in a weird way)

Cooks you breakfast in bed on off days,

You guys cook something together when you have a movie night

Instead of yelling most times, he just makes sure he understands your side of everything before jumping to conclusions

Makes sure he isn’t too rough with you verbally (lol not sure physically)

Brings you to his parents house during some free time since you get along with his mom and dad well

Won’t admit it but adores the fact that his parents love you

Whispers ‘I love you’ when he’s made sure your ‘sleeping’ (you’re not, you just wanna hear him say it all shy like)

You guys go on training dates, where you both train together, then have a picnic where you just trained

Him being more open with PDA, like holding your hand, or laying his head on your shoulder, etc. just small stuff

He loves playing with your hair and twisting it around his fingers while cuddling or studying

You both cheer on your favorite hero during a fight on TV, or you pick a random channel on TV and you just listen to him rant how stupid something is while you lean onto his shoulder at 2am (somehow got him to stay up this late)

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“No...no...you can’t, you can’t be serious”

He sounded so broken. His fists clutched so hard you thought his bones would pop out

Anger was evident in his face, and he honestly scared you with the face he was making

“Y/N....are you joking?” You frown and step back a little, did he really think everything you said was a joke? “No Bakugo, I just think this isnt gonna work out in the end.” You heard him click his tongue, then just look at you in shock, then anger. He looked down, his bangs covering his expression. “So you’re just gonna end it like that? No working anything out, just break up? It was one fucking mistake Y/N.”

“Yeah one big mistake, you don’t suck faces with some other person on accident, Bakugo.” The venom in your voice slicing through the tension filled air. “Can you just fucking forgive me? I won’t do it again.”

“You said that last time, Katsuki, then you go and clown off again-“

Before you could get anything else out Bakugo already had his quirk going in one hand, and the other holding your shoulder down. You both looked surprised, even as he backed away. “No..nononono fuck Y/N baby I’m sorry-” you smacked the hand that reached out for you. You started packing everything, Bakugo’s eyes widened as he just stood in shock. Before he knew it you were leaving already.

“N...NO NO Y/N PLEASE, I’M SORRY-“ he grabbed you by the arm that reached for the door knob. You quickly shrugged him out of his grasp, and opened the door. “Goodbye Bakugo, I hope well for the next person with you.” And you slammed it in his face. He stood there, it’s like the emotions he felt before were completely wiped when you slammed the door on him. It was 8:03pm, he should start getting ready for bed anyway.

For a few weeks he was unresponsive, and only talked when he needed to

His movements were sluggish and he’d often stare at nothing

Bakugo didn’t even glare, or really do anything when Midoriya tried talking him

Or shittyhair, dunce face, raccoon eyes, or soy sauce face

They were all the same, and just molded into one voice every time someone tried talking to him

After a while he got over it, but he still regrets what he did

You helped him through so much yet he went off and did stupid shit

Even after highschool, he’d still keep up on you frequently through social media

Basically stalking you on there, guessing he never truly got over it once he felt tears subconsciously stream down his face as he saw you with someone else, happier.

He felt like he didn’t do anything wrong, and he was confused at the throb in his heart every time you looked away from him or ignored him.

So he did ask you, and all you did was look at him like he just hit you.

Why did you look so hurt?

Todoroki shrugged it off, thinking you’d come back like you did after every fight you guys had

But you didn’t, and that’s what took an actual toll on him

More emotional

A permanent frown on his pretty features most of the time

All he mostly eats is soba

He didn’t know how to handle this in all honesty

Sometimes he’d just stare at you, and even when you looked back he’d just stare...

Sometimes he’s so out of it he doesn’t realize he’s either froze the entire classroom or was a living breathing radiator, or both (rip Momo, Satou, and Tokoyami)

He’d ask Midoryia for help but it came out as a fumbled mess most of the time:

“Midoryia...how do you hurt....them, a lot...without...? Can you help?

Midoryia is just like:

(Sorry I had to add that in I was cackling sm from it)

“I think you should just talk to them Todoroki.”

That was harder to do then he expected, you mangaged to avoid him pretty well,

One day he was just fed up and as soon as the bell rang he took your hand and left the class

He takes you to an empty classroom, his left side nearly giving you frostbite

You were about to yell at him before you saw his broken expression

“What...what did I do for it to be like this?” You we’re now quiet as you saw the confused and hurt expression on his face. Him barely being able to control either of his quirks, he was shaking, yet still held a confused expression. It just clicked with you, Todoroki wasn’t used to the sudden emotions or feelings, and when one of the people he’d usually go to to talk about it wasn’t there, he started to crumble.

You hugged him tightly , not caring if his quirks messed up your uniform. “I’m sorry Y/N....I’m sorry I’m not enough, but-“ You cover his mouth as tears fell from your eyes and onto the ground or his uniform. “I- I-I’m so sorry Todo...it’s just you never gave me affection and I was being so selfish and petty about it, I just- I didn’t realize that you went through your own experience for it to turn out like this. It’s not your fault, and I love you the way you are Shoto.” Todoroki didn’t even notice the tears come down his face as you kissed him over and over again. A small ‘I’m sorry’ from you every time. His quirks calmed down and now you were holding each other in a random classroom. You’re heart nearly stopped as you looked up at him and saw a small, teary eyed smile.

After you start Dating again:

Todoroki was much more observant

He’d stay up late readings articles saying “How to understand emotions” or “Is there other good food then Cold Soba” wait-

Regularly gets you gifts, even though most of the time you make him return the stuff since he’s been getting so much with his dads card

Endeavor ended up yelling at you both in a 7/11 while you were stuffing your faces with a soba flavored chips

You both figured out a way to get Todoroki to express himself without words

He’d slightly activate his left side if he wanted any sort of attention, and his right side was if he was feeling stressed or upset

He subconsciously goes to your dorm now to check up on you to make sure you’ve had a glass of water, dinner or anything really (He just wanted a reason to go to your dorm)

You played with his hair once, and he’s never going back

When cuddling he’d lay his head in the crook of your neck, hoping to feel you playing with his hair

You push him to start taking therapy sessions to understand what emotions he’s feeling and how to express them

Takes you in your free time to an empty field just to hear you talk, and learn more about you

And he’d always wake up early and made sure to get a few snacks for you before you woke up and brought them to your dorm room (Last time he tried to cook he almost burned the kitchen down)

Overall Todoroki just loves giving you small head pats now, you don’t know where it came from but you didn’t complain

Poor bby stuttered so hard the first time he said ‘I love you’ you giggled

Ended up making him feel embarrassed and like he did something wrong, but you quickly kissed him/praised him

He can’t stop saying it now, one time you picked up his pencil, before you could hand it to him just a sudden “I love you Y/N” the entire class looked at you both in shock

“STOP SUCKING FACES OVER THERE!”

“SHUT UP BAKUGO”

“HAAAH?”

Todoroki is the happiest he’s been.

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“Over? What do you mean we’re over?”

You felt so horrible by the the pure confusion on his face

But the rude things he said to you, over powering your want to get back with him

Lately Todoroki has been more protective, and rude. Insulting everything you do, belittling you slightly. It just added up and you were tired of it

Todoroki tilted his head to the side, deep in thought.

“Y/N your being on the dumber side again, are you hanging out with them too much?” You were taken aback by how nonchalantly he insulted you and your friends. “Excuse me? Todoroki did I hear you right?” You stepped foward leaning your head toward him. “Of course you can, or did Bakugo’s yelling make you not hear so well?” The fact he said it with no emotion, or nothing to it was making you clench your fist. “The hell has gotten into you Todoroki?” You shove his shoulder a bit. He frowned at you heavily making you flinch. “Well if you didn’t go and ignore me most of this week maybe I wouldn’t be like this. I usually hold my tongue but you’ve been rude this entire week.”

You stood there speechless. “Well Ex-fucking-cuse me Shoto. Maybe if you didn’t insult me all the damn time I wouldn’t ignore you, or wait for an decent apology.”

You drag out the last words as you glared at him, Todoroki giving one back. “I’m only telling the truth so you don’t look dumb. I’m helping you out Y/N, I thought you’d understand.” You scoff in utter shock, you couldn’t help the sudden urge to slap some sense into him. Now he stood speechless, the force in that slap causing his hair to look messy, and a red mark on his cheek. Tears were in your eyes as you clenched your fist, biting your lip from cussing him out on the spot. “Your lucky I don’t beat your sorry ass, just...just the the fuck out Todoroki!” You pushed him toward the door. He looked at you with no emotion in his face as he saw you start to bawl your eyes out. “Just...just get the hell out Todoroki, it’s over, we’re over.” He felt a pang in his heart, but choose to ignore it and just left.

It only actually came to him during the night as he was about to walk to your dorm after a nightmare, when he realized the entire conversation

He tried knocking on your door but you didn’t answer, even though he could hear your music

He went back to his dorm, sat on his bed and just had a full mental breakdown

Realizing his main emotional support that helped him through mostly everything was gone

He felt he said stuff his father said to you already which made it even worse

He tried texting and calling you but you had him blocked on everything

He repeated the entire conversation in his head, just now coming to how disgusting he really did sound

Todoroki for that whole week was an emotional wreck

During hero training if he was thinking about you or what he did he doesn’t notice poor Satou trying to get out of his wall of Ice.

Is always with Midoryia at some given time,

He kind of clinged onto people in his circle that gave him attention of some sort

When he some time passed he eventually got over it

After Highschool you both kept in touch, but it pained him when he saw you engaged and happy with another person

But he was happy if you were happy.

Heyyy so this is probably the longest thing I’ve written since like my last Wattpad fanfics I used to do(yikes). But hope you enjoy, and don’t be afraid to request! I’m taking them now so go wild.

Sorry that they were all confusing it’s my first hcs+scenario thingy, but I have a few other things in the works so... 💃🕺

[mindofharry]

In which bucky and you are hooking up and he doesn’t appreciate you until you’re gone.

angst!! so much angst!! swearing, bucky saying stuff he doesn’t mean and a whole lot of crying. feedback is welcome as always <3

roughly based around the time the falcon and the winter soldier meet up again :D enjoy, lovers!

losing you masterlist.

You met Bucky just after he moved into the apartment block. He looked pretty lost and you, being you, decided to lend a helping hand and help out a neighbour.

You did not expect him to end up in your bed the next morning.

It was unexpected and kind of childish, but he made your heart pound and your lips to as red as a cherry. Bucky barnes had you wrapped around his finger before he even knew your name, he just had that kind of charisma. You wanted to be around him all the time, be more than just the causal hook up. Not just someone he calls when he needs to let off steam. You want to be it for him. Bucky is unpredictable and stubborn, but you were sure you could fix him or at least help him onto a better path.

He just wouldn’t let you in.

You’d have sex, and then he’d kick you out. He wouldn’t even let you stay the night. Which at first you didn’t really care about as he would always greet you with a smile and walk you to the local bar. Bucky would have actual conversations with you, that was only for a week. The sex got more hot, more steamy and a lot more fucking rough. He didn’t greet you in the morning, not even a smile and he most definitely didn’t walk you to the bar anymore. He said it was a waste of his time.

You’re a confident person, you don’t usually let people like bucky barnes hurt you this much.

But he was so much more than a hook up to you, you loved him.

It was wednesday, so that means when bucky is done with his lunch he’d text and you’d meet him at his apartment. That’s what happens every wednesday and you never question it. Why would you? A strapping man like bucky wants you in some way. You’re not going to let it go because you have feelings for him.

It might be a little selfish, but you loved him too much.

You made yourself something to eat and watched some downtown abbey to calm yourself down. Bucky liked it when you were chill and not your usual bubbly self. You’ve changed yourself completely for this man. You hope it’s all worth it in the end.

After eating and relaxing for a bit, you decide to shower and get ready for buckys. You want to look nice, show him what he’s missing.

You wash your body with multiple shower gels, and decide to shave your legs - which really, you didn’t want to it’s a lot of effort and you’re just not in the mood today. But if bucky likes it, you’ll do it.

He mentioned once while you were in bed that he loved how smooth your legs are. So you shaved them before every hook up.

“You’re amazing” You reminded yourself, putting on your mascara. The make up will only come off, but again you want to make a good and lasting impression on him. You never used to wear makeup, just a bit a blusher and the occasional gloss. But bucky likes it. It’s always about what bucky likes and dislikes. Your mother would be so disappointed in you.

You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts and walk into your room. This time you pick something you want to wear. Opening up your closet you pull out your flowery, summery, dress that got at a marker in spain. Your family flew there and spent the summer in a nice little villa. It was the only bit of a peace you felt. When you came home, it felt like everything you left behind came crashing down.

Maybe that’s why you depend so much on bucky. You never wanted to be that person, but bucky makes it so hard. And you’re definitely not blaming him for you becoming so attached, you’re definitely the one to blame. But bucky is just, he’s just this great guy.

Or at least he was.

You get it, he lost a lot of people in the blip and after the blip. You lost people too. But it obviously affected him more, so you’re cutting him some slack.

Even if he doesn’t really deserve it.

After getting dressed and making yourself look some what presentable you text bucky to let him know you’re on the way to his apartment - it was only a 30 second walk, but you know he liked his privacy, so you warn him each time.

There was no response. As per usual, you thought rolling your eyes. You strolled down to his apartment taking your time, the weather looked nice enough. Maybe you’ll go for a walk after this, you know you won’t be staying long in buckys home.

You knock on the door, looking down at your phone. Still no messages. Now this, was surprising. Even if he didn’t text he’d always let you know in some way if he couldn’t make it. Bucky may be a dick, but he’d never leave you waiting.

You wait outside for a minute and contemplate leaving, but your hear footsteps walking towards you. You look over and see the man you love.

Bucky Barnes.

And he did not look happy. Angry, frustrated and confused maybe, but not happy. Usually he’s in a good mood after meeting up with his little friend for lunch. Did something happen? You don’t want to pressure him, but you need him to know you’re always there for him.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when bucky stepped infront of you, his eyebrows furrowed and scowl on his face.

“What are you doing here?” He asked fishing out his keys. You start to get annoyed, this man is really testing you. But you push that feeling down and put a smile on your face, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky shrugged it off, the smile fell off your face. Bucky noticed, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m busy today” He said putting the key into the door, trying to open it. He obviously put the wrong one in, frustrating him even more.

“We always meet up on wednesdays, and i did text you. But you never replied so i just assumed” You said, messing with the hem of your dress.

You wish he’d compliment you.

“Well you assumed wrong and i need you to leave. Got a date tonight” He said finally opening up his door. Your heart broke, it actually felt like it shattered into a million different piece. A date? With another person? Fuck, you didn’t think this far ahead. You thought that one day he would just realise. That it’s been you, you’re the one he wants. But obviously you were wrong.

You were wrong about a lot of fucking things.

But you put a brave face on and walked into his apartment, closing the door behind you. Again, you didn’t want to intrude but you needed to know how serious this date is. You need to know if this is the end of you and bucky.

Bucky sighed as he saw you standing in his hallway, he looked exasperated. Like you were a chore he forgot about or had been putting off. He looked at you like you were exhausting. Maybe you are. You should’ve never agreed to this hook up, friends with benefits shit. It always ends badly.

“Y/N, i said you need to leave” Bucky said placing a hand over his eyes. You nodded and instead of leaving you sat beside him. Bucky looked over at you and you’ve never seen him angrier.

“Are you deaf?” he asked and you flinched at his tone. “I have a date, and i need you to get the fuck out of my house” Bucky said and you sighed standing up.

“You’re an asshole” You mumbled and bucky stood up as well.

“You don’t say that when i’m balls deep in you” He replied, placing a hand on your cheek. He wasn’t rough when he grabbed you, but it did scare you a bit.

“This was just sex Y/N. Nothing more. You’re not my type, you’re too exhausting and tiring for me. I’m not interested in that sort of shit. Get the hell out of my home” Bucky said sternly letting go of your face. You searched his eyes for any sign of remorse or guilt, but nothing. He looked proud of himself really.

You sighed to yourself and wiped under your eyes. This is it. Fuck, ok don’t cry Y/N.

“I hope you enjoy your date” You said walking past him.

“Oh, I will” he smirked, watching as you left his apartment. You held back a sob as you ran to your apartment, ignoring on the stares and pitiful looks. You needed to leave the place.

You called your mom and told her the whole story and surprisingly she wasn’t disappointed.

“I could never be disappointed in you, baby. look at you, you’re amazing” Your mom said making you giggle. “That man doesn’t know what he just lost. a great friend is one of them. Now, men aren’t something you should be crying over. Go get yourself freshened up and then relax. You deserve it, honey” She said and you nodded to yourself, sitting up on your bed.

The tears were almost instant. Your mother hated to hear you cry. She lived so far away, and you just needed her hugging and cooking to make all of this pain go away. Heartbreaks are normal, their natural and everyone goes through it. It just hurts even more when the person you love the most doesn’t love you back.

“I love him” You admitted and your mom sighed. You could tell that she hated this too. “I met him when he was kind to me, he would walk me to the bar sometimes work too” You said and tried to stop the tears, but they just kept coming. “He was sweet. He would cuddle with me and not throw me out of his home. And he would listen, he would listen to anything i had to say” You sobbed.

“What did i do wrong? What did i do to make him hate me, mom?”

Your mother let out a pained sound. She just wanted to hug you and tell you everything would be ok.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong. This is all on him, honey. He didn’t appreciate what he had. He took advantage of your kindness and love towards him. You did nothing wrong. Never blame yourself for something like this.” She said quickly and groaned.

“I’ve gotta go” You said, and before your mom could get a word in you hung up and threw your phone against the wall.

Another thing to get fixed.

You did actually have work; but you decided you would get anything productive done. So giving yourself the day off would be good. Sit around, pig out and do not think of bucky barnes.

That lasted all of 5 minutes.

You’re now watching the notebook and didn’t get through 5 minutes of it without thinking of bucky. It’s not like you guys did actual couple things. Why are you so upset? Because you loved him, you idiot.

And now you have to get over him. If he was going on dates, you would too. If he was sleeping with other people, you would too. It’s time bucky barnes got a taste of his own medicine.

A week went by where you through yourself back into work and focused on catching up with old friends. During the day you didn’t think once about bucky, but when you got home that’s when the sob fests start. You’re pretty sure your neighbours can hear you, you feel a little bad.

Wednesday came and you didn’t once check your phone - one because it was smashed and you could barley see the screen, and two because you’re not going to be that girl anymore. You’re come to terms with the fact that bucky wasn’t for you, and although your heart is still very, very broken.

You’re doing better. You’re getting there.

On the other side of the apartment block, bucky barnes was not getting there or doing ok. You hadn’t texted him in a over a week, that’s a new record for you. Usually you send him memes or little reminders randomly. But there’s nothing, he’s been staring at his phone screen for far too long waiting for you to text.

He sighed and began typing.

‘ Hey, it’s bucky. Wondering if we’re still on for tonight? X ‘

He sent it and then put his phone down, turning on his tv. The date he went on was a bust. The girl wasn’t you, he figured that out pretty quickly. It’s not the girl wasn’t good looking or anything and she was nice enough, he just couldn’t stop comparing her to you. Y/N wouldn’t get the drink or Y/N wouldn’t sit that far away, or Y/N wouldn’t totally flipped that jackass off. He left abruptly in the middle of the date because he couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t handle not being with you, and that, to him was a problem. Bucky hadn’t been this dependent on a person since steve.

And steve left.

Bucky was just protecting himself, but while he was doing that - he hurt you. Immensely. He put you through so much pain in after this relationship. It was barley even a relationship, but it hurt just as much.

10 minutes went by, and there was still no response. You didn’t even read the message. Now he knows how you feel. Instead of waiting a little longer, bucky decided to just go to your apartment instead. He strolled down the hall and knocked on your door. Your neighbour came out of his home. Bucky nodded his way, the man only tutted at him.

“Poor girl” The man mumbled walking away leaving bucky confused. He shook it off and knocked again, this time you finally answered. You looked beautiful. You were wearing a tight, red dress showing all of your curves off you hair was straightened and you weren’t wearing any make up - you still looked behind beautiful.

“Bucky....” you said with furrowed brows.

“I texted but there was no reply” He said walking into your apartment and taking off his jacket. He grinned and put his hands on your hips. You were even more confused, did he just forget about last week? What he said to you?

“Did you get dressed up all for me?” He asked you cleared your throat moving back so his hands would fall off you, bucky looked at you with a scowl.

“What’s up?” he asked moving his hands to your cheeks, you remembered how he grabbed you the last time and you flinched. Bucky froze for a second and dropped his arms to his side. Something was obviously wrong.

“I’m going on a date, bucky” You said and buckys world stopped for a second. A date? With who? This can not be happening.

“Whatever we have going on, it’s done. So i don’t know why you’re here” You said walking into your room to finish getting ready, you needed to find your black heels.

You met this guy at work, and you really hit it off. So when he asked for a date, you didn’t hesitate. You were putting you first, like you should’ve been doing all along.

“Done?” Bucky asked following you, you nodded and shrugged your shoulders. “You made it pretty clear last week” You said and bucky sighed rolling his eyes. “So this is about the date?” He said and you didn’t reply.

“It’s about what you said to to me, bucky. You’re selfish and mean. And i deserve better”

Bucky sat down on the end of your bed beside you. He knew what he was doing, you were an easy lay. Bucky hates himself for breaking your heart, god knows he broke his own letting you go and saying those awful words to you. You do deserve better.

“So with that being said, i think it’s time for you to leave”

And this time, it was you kicking bucky out of your bed.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 3: Plan B

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 5.1k

Warnings for this chapter: language (jk will continue to have a potty mouth), a gun, attempted murder

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger. 

Previous → Next

"Excuse m-me, sir."

Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him.

You're clutching a piece of paper in your hands as a smile spreads on your face when you look at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught.

"Th-This is for you." You hold out the paper.

Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving yours.

When the initial shock leaves his body, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at what you gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target.

What the hell is this?

"Uh-"

"I hope it isn't c-creepy. I j-just thought it might make you s-smile." You brighten when he looks back down at the picture.

Jungkook swallows thickly.

On the piece of notebook paper, is a terribly drawn picture. But that isn't what's gotten his attention. On it, is an image of what he can only guess to be himself, sitting on a bench.

He looks back up at you, "Um, I don't understand..." His voice gives out on him as he fights the urge to bolt. Everything about this situation is telling him to run. You know him. You've known he was following you.

But you aren't outright telling him that you know...

What the hell does he do now?

You smile shyly, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. "I know it m-must seem weird. But p-please let m-me explain."

He nods uncertainly, forcing his feet to stay planted where he is.

"Ok," You wring your hands together and he watches in confusion as you blink a few times. "O-Ok, I like to d-draw. And sometimes when I d-don't have anything else to draw, I draw p-people. Then I give them the p-picture as a present to make them h-happy!" You bounce a little on the balls of your feet.

"But-..." Jungkook scratches his neck. "When did you do this?" He's starting to think maybe he's out of the line of fire. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and you don't suspect him of following you at all.

You put a finger to your chin as you think about that. Then you tap your cheek, blinking hard a few times. "Mmm, I think it was Wednesday? Maybe Thursday..." You start mumbling to yourself.

Jungkook raises a brow, watching you curiously.

He looks around, no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Good, he can't be seen as one of the last people to be with you.

You suddenly speak up again, drawing his attention back to you.

"W-Well, anyway. I decided to m-make it and give it to you b-because you looked sad. Are y-you lonely?" You look up at him with big eyes and he blinks, looking away for a second to regain his composure.

Damn, she's nosy.

Jungkook clears his throat and looks back at you, "I'm not lonely. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I don't need this." Then he shoves the picture into your chest, making you flinch and grab it.

"Have a good day." He says curtly, then he turns and walks as quickly as he can away from the situation.

After a minute of walking, Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that. He messed up. Now he really needs to get this done quickly before the target figures anything out for real this time.

The relief is short-lived though. A second later, he flinches when he hears a voice calling out to him and the sound of feet running.

"Wait! Mister, p-please wait!"

Jungkook pulls his hat down further and picks up his pace, trying to find a crowd he can lose you in.

He's squeezing in-between people and pushing past others, ignoring their sounds of annoyance. Then a hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and he internally groans.

Shit, she's fast.

Jungkook shakes you off of him and turns to glare at you.

 "What?" He snaps.

You blink and cock your head to the side for a second before straightening it out, a crooked smile forming on your face.

"I w-wasn't able to introduce m-myself." You state simply.

Jungkook audibly sighs, "Look, I'm busy."

"Oh." Your face falls and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

You look at the ground for a second, then you look back at him, your eyes bright again and the smile back on your face. "P-Please, take the picture. I have n-no room in my bag f-for it."

Jungkook sighs again and snatches the picture out of your hands, "Fine. Happy?" He waves it in the air before folding it and sticking it in his jacket pocket.

You nod happily, "My n-name is ____."

 I know.

"Alright." He looks away, trying to give you the hint that he's done with the conversation.

"What's y-your name?"

Gosh, she never shuts up, does she?

"Jungkook."

...

...

...Fuck.

Why in the literal hell would he say his real name just now?

He wasn't thinking. He just wanted you to shut up. 

You see the look of pure panic on his face and laugh to make him feel better, "Nice t-to meet you, J-Jungkook." He must have trouble talking with people, you think. 

"Ok, well yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the picture. Goodbye." He turns and all but runs off, finally disappearing into a crowd.

You watch him go into the big crowd and you smile, he was so kind. Giggling and looking down at your fingers, you turn and start making your way home. _______________

Jungkook hauls ass all the way back to his place, constantly making sudden turns and glancing around to make sure you're not hot on his heels.

When he finally makes it up the stairs and into his apartment, he locks the door and yanks his shoes off, hurling them at the front door and flinching when they slam against it loudly.

There aren't enough curse words in his vocabulary for him to scream into his pillow that would satisfy him right now. He starts to shake, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now.

He's never been caught.

Not once. 

He's never even been close to getting caught. 

In and out, one and done.

That's how it's always been for him.

Jungkook takes his hat off and tosses it onto the tiny dining table, then he walks over to his bed and flops onto it, face down.

"I quit." He mumbles into the comforter forlornly.

Then he lays there for a minute, contemplating everything.

"I can't quit..." He mutters to himself a second later.

It's impossible.

He can't quit.

He just needs to get it over with tonight.

No more hesitating, no more distractions, no more overthinking. It doesn't matter that she saw his face and knows his name. She'll be dead by morning anyway, and it's not like her friend is here for her to tell anything about him to.

Once he's calmed himself down enough to think clearly, Jungkook gets up and moves to his closet to pull out the safe. He puts in the code and it swings open when he gives it a little tug. He takes out the gun that he failed to use the other night, then he unloads it, pouring the little bullets onto his bed. Jungkook counts them before reloading them, then he dumps them out again, counting them before once again reloading them.

He does this whenever he needs to think, it helps him concentrate. When he's unloaded and reloaded it four times, he's finally able to take a deep breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging for a minute before he lifts it and stares at the wall. _______________

When you get home, you kick your shoes off and head straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. You grab a little drinkable yogurt and grin as you open it up and take a sip. 

Then you move to sit on your couch, still gently sipping your yogurt. When you're almost halfway done with your snack, you pull out your phone and text Mina. 

You 4:32- Mina, I met someone today ^-^

Then you toss your phone next to you and grab your TV remote, turning it on you quickly find the drama you're currently binging and you hit play. 

After a few minutes, you hear your phone bling. You pause the show and grab it to see Mina has answered you. 

Mina 4:40- YOU WHAT? WHO

You laugh quietly and you're typing a reply when a picture of you and Mina making silly faces pops up on the screen and the ringtone you made special for her starts ringing. You answer it quickly, laughing when she shouts through the phone immediately. 

"WAS IT A BOY??" She shrieks, almost breaking your eardrums.

"Y-Yeah." You can feel the blush creeping up your neck at her next words.

"Is he cute? Is he single?"

"M-Mina!" You cry in embarrassment, "It isn't l-like that." 

You hear a disappointed sigh leave her lips, "Well, what is it like then?" She asks in curiosity. 

"I gave him a p-picture that I drew. He t-took it, Mina! He didn't say I was c-creepy like the other girl did." You're grinning from ear to ear. 

She laughs quietly as she realizes what this is about. "Ohh, so you drew a picture of him and gifted it to him?"

"Yup!"

"That's so sweet of you, ____. And he actually took it?" 

You nod, then remember she can't see you. 

"Y-Yes, he took it. He said th-thank you, and he told m-me his name!"

Mina laughs again at your excitement, "What's his name?"

"Jungkook."

"Ohhh," There's a teasing hint to her tone, "Sounds like a name fit for a cute guy. So, was he cute?" 

You bite your lip then whisper, "Uh, yes. He was c-cute." 

"Awww! ____ has her first cruuuush!" Mina shrieks again and you shake your head. 

"No, Mina. I d-don't have a crush on h-him! I just thought he was n-nice. He seemed like he would m-make a good friend." You pull at the hem of your skirt, your knees tucked up to your chin. 

You hear her giggle on the other side, then her tone turns serious. "Ok, you're right ____. No man is good enough to date my sweet best friend. Don't you dare pursue him until I get there and give my approval!"

You roll your eyes, "I'm not going to p-pursue him at all, silly."

You two chat for a couple of minutes, then you let her go because you both need to figure something out for dinner soon. 

You decide to finish the episode of the drama, but you can't resist and watch a few more after it. By the time you're able to peel your eyes away from the TV, the sun is starting to go down. You rub your eyes in confusion, I didn't realize how many episodes I watched. 

You stretch your arms above your head and yawn, "Ah, I should g-get some d-dinner," You stand up to go to your kitchen and scrounge around. You come up with a few pieces of celery, half a jar of kimchi, and one hard-boiled egg. 

You scrunch your nose at the emptiness of the fridge. You'll just have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. But until then, you decide to just go out and get something to eat for dinner and maybe find something for your lunch tomorrow. 

You pull your tennis shoes on and grab your bucket hat, plopping it onto your head. It doesn't go with the rest of your pastel outfit, but you don't really care. If it's comfy, then it's a win for you. 

Then you take your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Remembering to lock the door, you leave and head down the stairs. _______________

Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand as he takes the fishcake skewer and hands his money to the man. Then he bows and turns to make his way through the crowds of people that always come out at night in Seoul. 

He finds a bench in a park a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the city, so he sits there and takes a deep breath of the crisp evening air. Jungkook takes a bite of his fishcake, chewing it thoughtfully as he goes over the new plan of action in his head. 

A few people pass by while he sits there, one of them is a small girl with her mother. She reminds Jungkook of that little girl, Mi-Rah, from the other day. His throat constricts when he remembers the child's words to him. Then he scoffs and takes another bite of fishcake, chewing it aggressively. If that annoying kid hadn't distracted him, he wouldn't be sitting out here right now trying to come up with a new plan...stupid. 

Jungkook finishes his food, then he stretches his long limbs out, grunting from exhaustion. This hit is really taking a mental toll on him for literally no reason at all. He can't wait to be done with it. 

He rubs his hands together and stands up, stretching a bit more before heading in the direction of the target's home. 

He's going to finish this. 

Tonight. 

When Jungkook is a few blocks from her apartment, he slows down and glances around before slipping into the dark alleyway from the other night. Once he's in the dark, he slips the gun from his pocket and checks the bullets. It's an obsessive thing at this point, but it makes him feel more secure. 

He slides the last bullet back in, then-

"Jungkook?"

The gun clatters to the ground with a loud sound as Jungkook whips around to see the one person he doesn't want to see at this moment. 

Gosh fucking damn it all to hell. 

You're standing there, looking up at him from under your bucket hat. Jungkook scans you quickly, noticing you're still in your light yellow skirt and pink blouse from earlier. You have some bags in your hands as you smile at him. 

You don't seem to have taken notice of the fact that he literally just dropped the gun he was going to shoot you with. So, Jungkook quickly kicks it to the side, relieved when it slides behind a bag of trash. 

"Uhm, hi...____, right?" It takes all his willpower not to fumble over his words after being caught for the second time on the same day.

You nod happily at the fact that he remembered your name, "Yes! F-Funny to run into y-you again!"

Jungkook chuckles dryly, "Yeah, what a coincidence."  

You gesture to him with one of the bags in your hands, "D-Do you live n-near here?" 

Jungkook's nose twitches, but he keeps a straight face. "No, I just...I was out for a walk." 

"Ohh! Night walks are th-the best." 

"Mhm.." Jungkook looks around, trying to figure out what he should do. Maybe he should just do it now...yeah, that's the best idea. 

"So, what did you buy?" Jungkook asks suddenly, gesturing towards your bags. You take the bait instantly and brighten, bending down to place your bags on the ground so you can show him. 

The second you aren't looking, Jungkook crouches and grabs the gun from behind the trash bag he kicked it towards.

"Well, now. L-Let me see." You're crouched on your heels, looking through the bags. Jungkook cocks the gun and raises it, his finger on the trigger. 

"I've g-got an apple, that was from the k-kind old woman at the fruit s-stand-"

He's about to pull it when another voice rings out in the alley. 

"Miss ___! Is that you?"

Jungkook quickly brings the gun down, switching it to safety and stuffing it into the front of his pants. Clearly, he isn't thinking straight right now. 

You look up at that moment and glance behind Jungkook before a smile of recognition lights up your face. "Ohh! Mr. Ch-Chang! What are y-you doing out this l-late at night?"

Jungkook bites his lip in pure frustration and turns to see an older man smiling at the pair of you. "I was taking my trash out, and I thought I'd heard your voice coming from over here."

You grab your bags and scoot past Jungkook to greet the older man properly, "It's s-so nice to see you. It's b-been a l-long time!" 

Mr. Chang smiles and nods, "It has indeed. And who is this handsome young fellow?"

He looks around you at Jungkook, who screams internally, not knowing anything that could make this situation worse. 

"That's m-my new friend, Jungkook."

Oh, ok. So, that makes it worse. Good. 

Not only was his plan foiled, but this old man now has a visual and a name to put to someone should anything happen to you. 

Great, just great. 

"Ah, it's very nice to meet you, Jungkook." Mr. Chang holds out a shaky hand and Jungkook takes it and gives it a shake. "Oh, this one's got a good shake." The old man winks at you and you laugh. 

Jungkook forces a smile onto his face. 

He's always been good at charming people, that's what makes him so good at his job. 

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Chang." He says politely. 

"Well, very good. Very good. What do you say we all get out of this creepy old alley? Let's get into the light." Mr. Chang leads you and Jungkook out until the street lamps pour golden artificial light onto the three of you. Jungkook wants to flinch away, it feels like the light is exposing all the dirty little secrets he's got hidden away. 

But he remains stoic. 

You and the man exchange a few words before Mr. Chang clears his throat, "Alright dear, I really am an old man, I must be heading to bed. Jungkook," Jungkook looks up from where he was staring at the ground, "Hm?"

"Be a good lad and walk my young friend home?" He looks at Jungkook with such kind and trusting eyes that Jungkook finds himself looking away. 

"Of course." He mumbles. 

This man doesn't suspect a thing. He has no idea that the guy he's asking to protect his friend is the one that was about to kill her for a hefty price, and would have if he hadn't been interrupted. 

"Thank you. You two stay safe and I'll see you again, ___." 

"Goodnight, M-Mr. Chang!" You wave to him as he slowly makes his way around the corner. Then you turn to Jungkook and smile. 

Jungkook briefly wonders if your cheeks ever get sore from smiling all the time. 

"I l-live this way." You raise an arm to the right, the bag hanging from it dangles. Jungkook nods, then he starts to walk. You need to jog to catch up to him, his long legs take huge strides as he hurries down the street. 

The walk is silent, you sensing that Jungkook isn't really in the mood to talk. But it takes a lot of willpower for you not to start asking him different questions to get to know him more. 

When you've finally reached the stairs that lead up to your apartment, you huff in a breath. 

"Hoo, I'm so t-tired." You laugh. 

Jungkook looks at you, his face unchanging. 

You hold up a bag, "Would y-you mind carrying th-this up for me? I'm sorry, it's gotten so h-heavy during the walk. And I n-never walk that f-fast."

Jungkook takes the bag with a sigh, then he turns and hurries up the stairs, leaving you to huff and puff up them slowly behind him.  

When you reach your door, Jungkook sets the bag down on the ground and turns to leave, "Have a good night." He mumbles. 

"W-Wait!"

He turns back to you, biting back another sigh. 

"Th-Thank you...for today." You say softly, a hint of a smile on your lips. 

"No problem." He says quickly before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing around a corner. 

You unlock your door and bring in the bags, lugging them to the kitchen to start unpacking them. As you put the stuff you bought where it belongs in the kitchen, you think back on your day. 

It's so crazy that when you were so lonely without Mina, you were able to talk to someone new! A spark of hope comes alive in your chest that maybe you've just made a new friend. Hopefully, you'll see him again and you can learn more about him. 

You're so curious to know more about this dark and lonely stranger. _______________

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment, walking in slowly. 

He shuts the door and locks it, then he pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door. After that, he walks over to his bed, pulls his pants and shirt off, then climbs into bed. 

Wrapped up in his covers, Jungkook stares straight ahead into the darkness. 

"How the hell am I going to do this?" He whispers numbly. 

His head is spinning with new plans and everything that's happened today, but he can't grasp a single one of those thoughts as they race by. 

Hours pass by as Jungkook tries desperately to get his head clear enough for him to focus. Eventually, he passes out from pure exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep.

 The next morning, the sun slips through the blinds. The birds are just starting to sing their morning songs, their pretty little voices waking up the rest of the world. 

Jungkook shoots straight up in bed, "That's it!" He shouts, then he claps his hand over his mouth, remembering how thin the walls are in this apartment complex. 

A smirk spreads across his face as he takes his hand down, "Ah, thank goodness." Jungkook almost laughs out loud in relief at finding another solution.

He jumps out of bed and runs to the shower. It ends up being the shortest shower he's ever taken, he doesn't have any time to waste.

When he gets out, Jungkook grabs a bottle of chocolate milk and a banana before hurrying to get dressed and out the door. _______________

Jungkook arrives at the school before you, so he gets a paper and sits on the bench, as usual, waiting for you to appear. 

It only takes ten minutes of waiting until he spots you across the street. Jungkook smiles to himself and waits patiently. Sure enough, you glance across the street and see him looking at you. 

You feel a warm spark in your chest when you see your new friend sitting on the bench across the street from the school. You wave happily, delighted when he smiles and waves back. Then, he stands up and jogs across the street until he's standing right in front of you. 

"Good morning, ____." 

"Hi, J-Jungkook!" The smile on his face makes your cheeks warm as you look down at your feet. 

Then you look back at him, "H-Hey, would you l-like to hang out t-today?" You ask suddenly, but hopefully, afraid he might turn you down instantly. 

Instead, Jungkook's smile grows and he nods, "Sure. I'll meet you out here when you're off work." 

"O-Ok." You grin at him, not expecting him to agree so fast. Then you look at the time, "I have t-to go. I'll see you l-later." 

He waves as you turn and hurry into the school. 

Jungkook can't stop the smirk from coming as he watches you disappear into the doors of the school. If you insist on talking to him and making him your friend, then he'll just have to go along with it. _______________

"Alright, m-my little ducklings! Time t-to pack up!" You clap your hands to get their attention. They all listen immediately, moving to get their bags put together and ready for home. 

A few minutes later, the school bell rings, signaling the end of the day. 

The kids squeal with happiness and you feel your own rush of excitement, remembering that you have a new friend to spend the rest of your day with. The kids get into line quickly and you give them each a punch in their reward cards as they file out the door. 

The second you step out of the school, leading the line of little ducklings behind you, you glance across the street, but you don't see Jungkook sitting there. 

You try not to think too much about it and focus on getting the kids into the correct lines for the busses. 

You wave to Joon Woo as he climbs into his father's car. He and his dad wave to you and smile before driving away. 

Then you look across the street again, but there still isn't any sign of Jungkook. 

You bite your lip before turning and walking into the school.

Gathering your things, you think about all the things you and Jungkook might be able to do to pass the time. You're so consumed in your thoughts that you don't notice the knock on your door. The second time the person knocks, louder this time, you hear it. 

"C-Come in!" You call out, sorting the last bits of the worksheets that the kids did today. The door opens and Mr. Baek from class A walks in. 

You look up and smile at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. B-Baek. How can I h-help you?"

He glares down his long nose at you, "Did you give any thought to what I said last week?"

"Um..."

What did he say last week...?

Oh...

"Oh, uhm. Mr. Baek, I still d-don't understand."

"What do you not understand about it?" He snaps. 

You flinch, then set down the stack of papers and stand up while grabbing your bag. "I th-thought maybe you'd had a b-bad day-"

Mr. Baek scoffs loudly, cutting you off. 

"You aren't that dense, sweetheart."

The way he says that makes your stomach turn, "Ok, I'm s-sorry that you're upset. I h-have s-somewhere to be. If y-you'll excuse me." 

You move around him and hurry out of the room before he can say anything else. You really aren't sure what's gotten into him, but you're going to avoid him until he's over it. 

When you walk down the steps to the school, you look around, but Jungkook isn't anywhere to be seen. You try not to let it get to you, this has happened before. 

The only person who has ever followed through on plans with you is Mina. 

You blink a few times, then you start making your way home. 

"Going home so soon?" 

You turn to see Jungkook standing behind you.

A smile spreads on your face at the sight of him. "I thought y-you'd left." You say slowly. 

He shakes his head and steps closer to you, " I always keep my promises."

You feel your chest lift at his words, finally someone that isn't going to leave you hanging. Then you readjust the bag on your shoulder, "W-What would you like t-to do?"

Jungkook frowns when he notices something off about you. He knows it's none of his business and he doesn't really care, but he's curious. 

"Did something happen?" He asks, taking you by surprise, "You look kind of upset."

At that, you smile bigger, "N-Nothing happened! I'm f-fine." 

"Ok." Jungkook doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push you any further. He doesn't care enough to. 

"So, w-what did you w-want to do?" You ask again, relieved he doesn't continue to ask you what's wrong. 

"You pick." Jungkook gives you a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

You decide to ignore that and clap your hands together, "W-Well, I'm hungry! How about we g-get some food?" 

Jungkook nods, "Food sounds great, do you know any good places?"

You laugh and try to send him a wink, though it's the worst wink he's ever seen. "Oh boy, I know e-exactly what we c-can eat."

Jungkook gestures forward, "Lead the way."

The two of you talk about the weather as you stroll through the city, making your way to one of your favorite food carts. You don't have much to talk about besides that. You're trying to come up with some questions to ask him once you've got your food. 

Once you arrive at the steamed bun cart, you break into a little run. Jungkook watches you skip over and jump in place once you're in line. 

She acts like a kid. 

He shakes his head but hurries over to you anyway. 

You tell him all your favorite kinds and he suggests you get them because they sound good to him too. When you take your card out to pay, Jungkook beats you to it. He hands the man some cash before you can even blink. 

"Oh, y-you don't have to do th-that."

"I know." He says simply, thanking the man once he hands him the bag of buns and his change.

You two walk to the park that he had followed you to the other day and find a spot on the green grass. You plop down and pat the spot next to you, indicating that he should sit as well. Jungkook sits down and hands you the bag. 

"Th-Thank you for b-buying it." You whisper shyly. 

Jungkook shrugs, "No problem. Which one should we try first?"

"Um, the pork ones a-are really g-good." You say, taking out the two pork buns. You hand one to him and he immediately takes a big bite, making you chuckle a little. 

"Mm, you're right. It's delicious." Jungkook says around a mouthful of food. 

You nod, glad that he likes it. Then you start to eat yours, thinking about which question you should ask him first. 

"So, how long have you been a teacher?" Jungkook asks you suddenly. 

You swallow the bite you were chewing, "I j-just started at the b-beginning of the school year in A-August. I graduated from c-college last year." 

Jungkook nods knowingly, "That's good. So, you must be around twenty-two?"

You nod, "I am t-twenty-two, yes. How o-old are you?"

"I turned twenty-three in September," Jungkook says before taking another bite. 

"Oh, n-nice. And what d-do you do f-for work?" You ask politely. 

Jungkook swallows the bite that feels like it's stuck in his throat at your question. "I work for a small business. I just take care of client's needs and stuff." 

You smile, "That's a g-good job."

He nods, finishing off his last bite. 

"It pays the bills."

Why is he suddenly uncomfortable? There's something about you that makes him nervous, but he can't tell what it is. 

No, this is on his terms. This is all part of the plan, he just needs to play along. He needs you to trust him.

Jungkook glances over at you as you stuff more food into your mouth.

This is gonna be easier than I thought. 

______________________________

a/n: thank you so much for all the support so far! I hope y’all liked this one

[sunshineseung]

Journal Part 4 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.8k holy shit i am so sorry- 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, plot 🤢🤮, smut within smut (mentions of marking, pet names/degrading names), anal toys (plug), jeongin wears feminine underwear, nipple clamps, mentions of rule breaking/punishment, begging, face sitting, praise, degradation, mentions (not use) of safe word, pegging, the obvious overuse of the word “mommy” and “ma’am”, aftercare, buttered pasta :)

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

The sound of his own foot tapping was enough to make him more anxious than he already was, and the light shining through the window directly onto his shiny desk to reflect on his eye wasn’t helping. He’s practiced the conversation a million times over in his head. The plan was simple: class ends, ask Professor Lee about his missing journal, and get it back. How hard could it be?

Evidentially, pretty damn hard. All throughout class, Professor Lee was staring at Jeongin, picking on him when no one else would answer easy questions, and overall making his life a living hell just by his presence. 

“Yang Jeongin, come see me.” Minho sighs, adjusting his glasses as he looks up at the clock on the wall of his classroom. “The rest of you are dismissed.” 

Ending class 15 minutes early was extraordinarily unusual for Professor Lee, but the other students hardly batted an eye as they collected their belongings and shuffled out of the room, leaving as Jeongin stepped up to his professor’s desk. He was practically sweating bullets at this point, all of his plans flowing out of his head with every step. The glare Professor Lee was giving Jeongin was intimidating to say the least, but Lee Minho knew all too well what he was going to say.

“You wanted to speak to me, sir?” Jeongin tilts his head, standing over his professor, giving the illusion that Jeongin had the upper hand in this situation. 

“Yes, Jeongin. You left your notebook behind last class, and I just wanted to give it back to you.” Professor Lee opens his top desk drawer, pulling out Jeongin’s journal and holding it out in his hand towards Jeongin. Before his student could grab it, he pulled away, reeling Jeongin in like a fish. “You really ought to be more careful with your stuff. Don’t want anyone else getting their hands on this, do we?” 

Jeongin shakes his head, holding his hand out, patiently waiting for his teacher to put the book into his hand. The room is coated in silence despite the chatter from the hall. Jeongin can feel his heart beating out of his chest, trying his best not to jump over the desk and snatch the journal out of his professor’s hands. 

“So, do you like writing?” The smirk stretching across Professor Lee’s smug face is breaking Jeongin. He feels this odd sense of deja vu on top of the overwhelming anxiety. Jeongin nods again, slightly shaking his outstretched hand, urging his professor to finally hand it over. “Is that what this journal is for? Writing?” 

“Professor Lee, can I please have my journal back? I have another class to get to, sir.” Jeongin dodges the question like a professional, but Professor Lee isn’t satisfied. He laughs in Jeongin’s face, rolling his eyes slightly at the boy’s wit.

“I ended class early. You have plenty of time to talk, Yang Jeongin.” Professor Lee stands up, walking to the other side of his desk and pulling out another chair from a student desk. “Sit down, take a load off. You’re one of my star students. I’d like to get to know you.” 

“Aright, professor.” Jeongin’s staring at the journal, loosely dangling from his professor’s hand. Still, he sits in the uncomfortable chair as the older man leans on his desk, facing the boy. Jeongin holds out his hand again, looking up at his professor with emotionless eyes, desperate to leave this room and go home, because him saying he has another class was a complete lie. Just for right now, Professor Lee wants to play a little game with Jeongin, a game the younger doesn’t even realize he’s playing.

“You don’t have to call me professor. Right now, you can call me Minho.” Jeongin nods, slouching in the chair. “You never answered my question, Jeongin. What do you write in this journal? Notes for class I’d assume.”

“Yeah, notes for class.” Jeongin’s voice cracks as he looks back at the journal, Minho now having one of his fingers between the pages. He winces just imagining what his professor would think if he read a single paragraph on any page. “I need them to study, so can I have it back now?” 

“Well, if it’s just notes, then you’re okay with me reading it, right?” Minho jolts his arm up, opening the book to a random page. Jeongin’s about to run out of the room in embarrassment before Minho holds a hand up, successfully stopping him. “C’mon, Jeongin. Do you honestly think I haven’t already read this?”

If Jeongin had anything in his stomach right now, he’d surely throw up. You reading the journal was one of his fantasies come to life, but this was a bit overkill. He’d never want anyone other than you to read his journal, let alone one of his professors.

“What’s got you so quiet now?” Minho raises the pitch of his voice to taunt Jeongin, playing up the scene. “You’ve had the audacity to write about Y/n in this book nearly every single class, but now that you’ve been caught, you bite your tongue?” 

“Don’t say her name!” Jeongin gets extremely defensive, standing out of the seat to be the same height as his professor. “What do you want from me? Just give me the journal and I’ll go. I’ll even switch out of this class if you want. I don’t care!” 

“Aw, Jeonginnie~” Minho rests his face on his hand, holding his own cheek as he watches Jeongin’s face get red with anger. “Just tell me, how is Y/n doing?” 

“How do you know Y/n?” Jeongin’s confused, unable to connect the pieces to this puzzle. 

“You’re not as smart as you let on.” Minho gets closer to Jeongin, getting right in his face to scare the young boy. “I was her husband. We were your neighbors.”

Jeongin could feel his legs shake, finally connecting every conversation, every question, every action. He steps back, vision going blurry as he’s flooded with memories of seeing none other than Lee Minho in your front lawn, playing with his daughters in the back, or sneaking out to a taxi late at night towards the end of his memories. Jeongin didn’t know your name until he started working for you, let alone know your estranged husband’s name. He felt like such a dumbass at this moment.

“So, how is she?” Minho puts his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder, forcing Jeongin to focus on him. “If you’re going to fuck my ex wife, you could at least tell me how she’s doing.”

“She’s doing well, certainly a lot better without you.” Minho scoffs, laughing at Jeongin’s weak attempt at a diss. 

“And the girls are doing well?” 

“Yup. I watch them every night after my classes.” Jeongin folds his arms, turning his chin up at Minho. How soon he forgets that Minho still has his precious journal.

“So that’s where she gets ya, huh?” Minho brings the notebook back to his face, flipping to a random page, putting his finger on a random line. “Is that where she, in your words, ‘gripped your cock like you’ve wanted her to for so long’? Or did that happen later?”

Half of Jeongin’s brain is struggling to come up with a response, while the other half is thinking about the first time you gave him a blowjob. He’s clenching his fists with anger, hoping Minho didn’t see him starting to pop a boner. 

“What goes on between us is none of your business.” Jeongin jumps forward, finally snatching his journal out of Minho’s hands. He holds his journal tightly in his hands, clutching it close to his chest. “I’ll be leaving now.”

Just as Jeongin turns around to get his bookbag, Minho grabs his wrist and turns him around, once again finding each other inches away from the other’s face. 

“She didn’t tell you anything about me, did she?” Jeongin shakes him off, rapidly walking back to his desk to get his bag. “Answer me, little boy.”

“She’s never said a word about you, Minho.” Jeongin goes for the door, finally seeing his exit within his sights. “Now leave me alone. I’ll see you on Thursday, sir.”

And with that, he’s out. Finally within possession of his journal, he minds his business walking down the hall, heading back to his house that’s less than a 10 minute walk from the campus. 

Just wait until Y/n hears about this.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

“He really hasn’t changed at all.” You stare out the window, taking a sip of tea from your mug as Jeongin finishes retelling the entire story to you. “I’m proud of you, Jeongin.”

“Proud of me? Why?” 

“You handled him very well. Any other boy your age would have crumbled under the pressure.” You sit next to him on the couch, putting your hand on his thigh more as comfort than a tactic to get into his pants. Regardless of your intentions, Jeongin can’t help but blush and bite his lip being the horny boy he is. “Lee Minho has a way with words. His charm worked on me in high school, and I’m sure it works on the other students in his classes.”

“Oh yeah, all the girls have crushes on him.” Jeongin covers his mouth with his hands when he realizes what he says. You just giggle at him, recalling some of the sweet, romantic moments you had with your ex-husband before everything went to shit. 

“Well, you know, the girls are going to his house this weekend. Maybe you should come over?” You ride your hand up his thigh teasingly, making Jeongin freeze as if he hasn’t had sex with you literally days earlier. “I’m always so worried about the girls when they’re with him. Maybe you can help me destress, baby boy.” 

“I’ll help you destress, mommy!” Jeongin smiles, mentally clearing his schedule for this weekend. “Can I ask something though?” 

“Ask away, baby. I’m an open book.” You lean back, one arm flailing behind your head as you take another sip from your mug.

“Why did you two… separate?” Jeongin cringes at his own words, realizing he might have crossed a line as your facial expression changes from a soft smile to a frown. “I’m just curious, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll tell you.” You huff as you sit up, swinging your arms forward so you can straighten your back. “He started acting distant out of nowhere, and some nights I’d wake up to find him gone from his side of the bed. A quick glance at his phone and I saw texts from another woman. I’d rather not get into gruesome details, but that’s the jist of it.”

“You don’t have to get into details. I shouldn’t have asked.” Jeongin shakes his head, leaning on your shoulder to comfort you. You put your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to you. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“No, thank you for asking. It feels good to get these things off of my chest.” You sigh, feeling an odd sense of relief. You’ve never talked to anyone about this other than a therapist you had for a brief time before work took over your life.

“So… was he a sub like me?” You nearly spit out your tea, Jeongin sitting up and patting your back to stop you from coughing on the drink. “Sorry! Sorry!” 

You can’t help but laugh at the curious boy, his face getting redder than you’ve ever seen. That’s the hardest you’ve ever laughed in a while. 

“Do you really want to know?” You raise an eyebrow, Jeongin covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“I mean… a little.” He uncovers one eye, looking at your cheerful expression and immediately calming down after seeing you aren’t mad. “You’re good at… ya know. You have to have experience being a dom, right?” 

“Actually, I’ve always been the submissive. Do you really think the egoist Lee Minho would let someone else be in control?” You laugh at your own remark, Jeongin catching on and laughing with you. “But thank you for saying I’m good at sex I guess. Although, I don’t know how much of a compliment that is considering you’re a virgin” 

“Hey! I’m not a virgin anymore!” The red-as-a-tomato Jeongin makes a return as you laugh at his defensiveness. “Can I ask… one more question?”

“Jeez, are you interviewing me or something?” You take another sip of your tea as you gesture for the boy to ask away. He gulps, calculating his final question before he has to go home.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” Pause. You stare at the floor, thinking critically to yourself. How can you let down your sweet little boy without breaking his poor heart?

“Jeongin, you know we can’t be together.” You take one of his hands in your free hand, squeezing his fingers between yours as he nods, looking down at his legs. “I’m over 10 years older than you. That would be absurd.” 

“What if no one knows?” He’s really harping on this, huh? “Or can we be another title? Maybe friends with benefits?” 

“Yang Jeongin,” your quiet, commanding voice makes Jeongin look into your eyes, seeing the seriousness in your expression, “I’m your mother’s friend, not yours. I’m not sure how to define our relationship, but if you really want a label, we can be… sex partners. But no one can know that, alright?” 

“I understand.” Jeongin squeezes your hand back, allowing a comforting silence to fill the room. “So, this weekend?” 

“You can come over Friday night. He takes the girls in the morning, but I have work for the first half of the day. I took the weekend off, though, so I’m all yours, pretty boy.” You kiss his lips, getting caught in the taste before you pull back, stay your goodbyes, and send him home for the night before you go to bed for yourself.

When Jeongin gets back to his room, he sighs and takes out his journal, cracking his fingers before laying the pencil on the paper.

I want Lee Minho to pay. I want him to pay for breaking the heart of the woman I love, even if she doesn’t reciprocate the feelings. He must be insane for cheating on such an amazing woman. If mommy marks me up, leaving hickeys all over my pale neck, I’ll boldly wear something with a low-cut so Lee Minho can see all of the marks left by the most beautiful woman in the world. I’ll make sure he knows that I satisfy her more than he ever could. Y/n, if you’re reading this, please leave pretty bruises all over my body. I want mommy to mark me so bad, make sure everyone knows I’m hers. Regardless of the label anyone puts on our relationship, no one can deny that I’m hers. Her perverted boy, her slutty toy, her little prince, all hers. Only hers.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

The weekend flies closer than he could have imagined, and after seeing you come home exhausted and drained every single night, nothing pleases Jeongin more than knowing he’s the one that will help you relax. As he walks to your house, he regrets not going to the store and getting lotions so he could give you a massage from his unqualified hands. 

“Hey, baby.” You smile at him, bright and gorgeous as always. You invite him in and offer him a drink, which he politely declines. You notice he’s shaking more than usual, and although he was always nervous and awkward, you’ve never see him get this shaky. “Are you okay, Jeongin?”

“Mommy…”

“Oh, we’re right out the gate with this one?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Jeongin takes his shirt off and pulls down his jeans, revealing a hot pink, lace thong covering his half-hard cock. You look up from his cock to his chest, seeing fake, silver nipple rings adorning his pink buds. You cover your mouth as you gasp, indescribably turned on from the presentation this boy had planned. “That’s not all.”

He turns around, bending over so the thong dives deeper between his ass cheeks, but you quickly notice what he was hinting at. There’s a little pink rose peeking out of his ass, a clear decoration on a plug. He looks so fucking hot. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“What do you think, mommy?” He holds his arms out as he turns around, facing you again as your body hasn’t moved since he’d last faced you. “Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, little prince.” You walk up to him, holding his waist in your hands as you pull him closer, licking one of his nipples, tasting the distinct metal flavor of the ring. “You never fail to surprise me, baby.” 

You kiss from his nipple to his panties, getting down on your knees as you lick over the thin fabric. He twitches under the lace, getting harder every second. Before your mouth can properly suck his cock, you stand up and kiss him harshly on the lips, tasting a faint strawberry flavor. You smile against his mouth, holding his by his waist again as you pull him into your body, your chests coming in contact. 

“Mommy, please sit on my face. I want to make you feel good,” Jeongin whines between kisses. Your hands run up and down his body, feeling him up and making him shiver in anticipation. For right now, you’re content with just sucking on his sweet lips, but his cock clearly needs some attention. “Please~”

“Let’s go to my bedroom, sweetheart. I’ll ride your pretty face as much as you want.” You take his hand in yours as you take him back to your room, practically throwing him on the bed. He palms himself over his thong while you undress, totally forgetting about the rules you’d set up. When you turn around, your gaze goes immediately, almost instinctively, to his hand on his cock as he half-assedly strokes himself. “Is my naughty little boy touching himself? Without my permission?” 

“Sorry, mommy. I couldn’t help it.” Jeongin presses his bottom lip out as he pouts, pulling his hand off of his cock. You roll your eyes and get onto the bed, sitting over his chest before staring down at him like you’re a shark and he’s your next meal. 

“I don’t know if you deserve to eat my pussy anymore.” You ponder, bringing your hand to your chin as if you’re genuinely considering not riding his face until you’re dripping. He puts his hands above his head and pleads again, whining in his adorable high-pitched voice. “Alright, baby boy, but only because I want this.”

You scoot up to his face, hovering your naked cunt over his gorgeous face. As you slowly start to lower your hips to his mouth, Jeongin eagerly sticks his tongue out and fights against his reflexes to just grab you. He laps at your folds, humming from the sweetness as you grind on his face and grip the headboard of the bed. 

“Good boy, Jeonginnie. If you make mommy cum, you’ll get a reward.” He moans into your pussy, his cock twitching under his lace panties just at the thought of you rewarding him. For being so hungry for punishment just days prior, he really wanted to be your good little boy just for today. He sticks his wet tongue into your cunt, inciting you to ride his face even harder, raising and lowering just enough for his tongue to never leave your tight, needy cunt. 

His tongue pulls back, leaving you empty for a moment before he starts kissing and sucking at your clit. You lean forward, putting your clit right up to his mouth all for him. Your sopping cunt was absolutely begging for an orgasm, and Jeongin was getting you there faster than you could have ever imagined. The moans leaving your throat only made Jeongin want to make you cum even more. 

“Please cum on my face, ma’am.” Jeongin wastes no time returning his tongue to your pussy, his wrists still above his head as if he were cuffed. Your legs start to get uneasy, shaking around Jeongin’s head as you breath heavily and mindlessly moan out his favorite pet names and countless praises. He’s smiling against you, sucking your folds until you finally release, your cunt tightening around his tongue as you whine and grind, riding out your high on his face. You were undoubtedly euphoric, slowly coming down from an extremely intense orgasm, but Jeongin was also through the moon, tasting all of your juices leaking into his mouth. 

“Ah, thank you little boy.” You flip your leg over his head, stepping back onto the floor with your weak, tired legs, a hand on the bed so you don’t fall over. You run a hand down his leg, Jeongin starting to shake with anticipation. He holds his wrists steady above his head without any help of restraints. Your palm runs over his cock, touching him over his thin panties. He lets out a huff, needy for more. “Does my sweet prince need to be fucked?” 

Jeongin’s whine are so fucking pathetic. A tear runs down his cheek just from the thought of you fucking him. He watches you as you turn around and reach into your drawer, digging through until you pull out a harness and a bright pink dildo that oddly matches his panties. Jeongin tightens his hole, remembering the bulb nestled in his ass. As you put the harness on, he lifts his hips and shakes his as against the bed.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, “please fuck my ass. Need your cock in me so fucking bad!” He sounds so overwhelmingly lewd, but you loved every second of it. You attach the dildo to your harness, tightening it perfectly so it won’t budge. You cup his cheek as you reposition yourself on the bed, lifting his legs over your thighs. You watch his cock tremble, begging to be touched, as Jeongin stares directly at your face, watching your eyes dart from his cock to his hardened nipped to his quivering lips. “Mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart?” You tilt your head and smile, making a burst of warmth erupt in Jeongin’s chest. 

“Please be gentle, okay?” You giggle at his cuteness and nod, reaching to your bedside to take out lube. Squirting it onto your hand, you rub the length of the dildo with one hand while you teasingly pull at his plug, pulling it out just enough to make him groan. 

“You look incredible, baby boy.” You lean down to kiss him while your hand moves from your dildo to his ass, both hands pulling out the plug before you finger him with lubed fingers. All of his moans are lost on your lips, his tongue letting out and into your mouth, dancing with yours. He squeals when your fingers leave his ass, and he knows exactly what’s next. 

You take his hands in yours from above his head, pulling them down to be next to his head. You lean over the boy while you line your cock with his hole, teasingly pushing the tip against his entrance. 

“I’ll go slow, don’t worry angel.” Your hands hold your hips as you slowly push the strap into Jeongin, watching it disappear into his tight little hole. His thong is pushed to the side of his hole while painfully rubbing against the bottom of his shaft. You would have taken it off, but he just looks too damn sexy in them. 

Jeongin writhes as you stop halfway, petting his sides to help him calm down. He feels so full, so stretched, something he’s never felt before. He’s wanted this for so long, he just wants to enjoy it so bad, especially for you, but the pain is starting to get to him. He’s whining loudly, biting down on his lip harshly in hopes of silencing some of his sounds. 

“Jeongin? Are you okay?” Your voice is soft, but not delicate. You’re speaking at a regular volume, an attempt to pull Jeongin out of his head. He opens his eyes and looks at you, tears threatening to fall out. “What’s the safe word?” 

“Avocado.” 

“One more time for me, baby. What’s the safe word?” Without moving your hips, you lean forward to hold onto his face. He looks so gorgeous, messy and covered in sweat. You just want him to be happy. 

“Avocado.” He pushes his face against your hand, his voice returning to a regular pitch. “You can go further now, mommy.” 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” You lean more to kiss his forehead, admiring his sharp facial features. 

“I want you to fuck me, please.” His tone is flat, sounding almost unenthused until the final word. You nod and patiently push into him, carefully watching his face for any indication of pain. Jeongin starts to groan loudly as you bottom out, pressing the bottom of the harness against him. “Thank you.” 

“Good boy, Innie. My angel’s so pretty like this.” Your hands go to his chest, dainty fingers pinching his nipples just how he likes. His moans are back to being the high, pathetic whines you’re used to from the boy. His cock twitches, a drop of precum dripping from the tip. “You ready for me to move, my little prince?”

“Yes, mommy. I’m ready!” Your heart warms watching Jeongin’s face light up for such a perverted sentiment. He looks so excited, finally starting to enjoy it. You grip his hips tight as you pull out, watching his cock stutter and his mouth hang open. When you pound back into him slowly, Jeongin feels that familiar warmth in his stomach. 

“You like this, baby boy? You like getting fucked by your mommy?” Your voice is sinister as you increase the pace, rhythmically moving your hips against Jeongin’s ass. His legs shutter as you fuck him, all of his nerves standing on edge. “Who’s mommy’s little cumslut?”

“I am, mommy! I’m your little c-cum… fuck!” Jeongin throws his head back as you wrap one hand around his cock, your other hand is grounded on his hip. You start to jerk him, fast and aggressive, coaxing him to an orgasm even faster.

The dildo drags against Jeongin’s walls, brushing past the sensitive spot he didn’t even know he had. With every thrust and stroke, he can feel himself start to fall apart, all of his speech devolving into incoherent whines and cries. Sweat drips down his forehead as he finds it harder and harder to hold back his release. 

“C-close,” he whimpers, “gonna cum.” 

“Aw, my sweet little boy ready to cum?” You speed up the movements of your hand, tightening your iron grip on his sensitive, red cock. Jeongin feels his reality start to fade, only being able to focus on his impending orgasm. “Cum all you want, baby. Be a good little boy and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes stare intensely at his cock as he’s pushed over the edge, his body convulsing as he has the most powerful orgasm of his life. He shoots his load all over his abs and chest, some dripping onto your hand. Your hand goes still on his shaft, but your hips still slowly rut into him, easing him through his high. 

“Gonna pull out now, alright pretty boy?” He nods, bringing his hand up to his face for him to bite down on his finger. You gently pull your hips back, eventually slipping out of him, watching him breath heavily as you let go of his hips and cock. “Did you like that?” 

“Yes, Y/n. You felt so good,” he smiles, watching you as you stand up to pull the harness off and toss it towards the drawer for you to clean later. “Can we get dinner now?”

“Sweetheart, you need to rest!” You walk to the side of the bed and give him a peck on his forehead, soon kissing him on his plush lips. He lays on your bed, limbs spread out as he’s lifeless and naked. “You did so well for me. I’ll cook you dinner while you take a nap, alright?”

“I’d like that, mommy. Thank you!” You pull the discarded comforter over his body, forcing him to get warm and cozy under your covers. He looked so sweet in your bed, snuggled against the soft bed that smelled like you. 

“How about pasta? Does my boy like pasta?” He nods, shutting his eyes and rolling to his side, preparing to sleep. “I’ll be back in an hour. Rest well, Jeongin.” 

“Thank you~”

Jeongin dozes off as you get dressed in lounge pants, a loose shirt, underwear and no bra. He looks so peaceful sleeping, so you’re extra quiet when you slip out of your bedroom to the kitchen. 

You gather the ingredients and start to boil the water when you get a call. Just as before, it’s your ex-husband, Minho. You groan and hesitantly press the green phone button, turning the call to speaker before setting your phone on the counter. 

“Y/n? Hello?”

“What do you want, Minho?” Your voice sounds disinterested to say the least, and Minho immediately gets the hint that his call was not wanted. 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase. One of my student’s grades are suffering because of your relationship with him-“

“Shouldn’t you be watching my kids?” You don’t have the mental capacity to listen to Minho scold you right now. Your motherly instincts are tingling, and he should be watching your little angels right now. 

“They’re with their stepmom right now.” You grumble at his use of the word “stepmom” considering your daughters still call her by her first name, but nevertheless, you go silent, hoping he’ll get on with this call. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, you need to stop playing games with Yang Jeongin.” 

“Playing games?” Your face turns red as anger suddenly fills your brain. “We aren’t playing games, Lee Minho. We’re adults. Neither of us need your permission.” 

“You’re playing with this kid’s feelings. Don’t you feel bad?” You pause, watching bubbles start to rise in the pot. “This kid is suffering just because you want to be fucked and you’re too prideful to-“

“Don’t even say that, Minho.” You reach for the box of pasta, dumping the noodles into the pot of boiling water. “I’ll never get back with you. You know that.” 

“What does he have that I don’t?” You hear a loud tsk through the phone, Minho taking a break in his talk to ponder his next move. “You’d rather fuck a college student than a real man?”

“Jeongin’s more of a real man than you’ll ever be!” You’re nearly yelling at this point, rage overwhelming you. “What do you know about our relationship anyway? It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is!” Before you have a chance to respond to his outlandish comment, he chimes back in. “He writes in his little fantasy book every single class, and every time I look over his shoulder, I have to see your name scrawled over every page. He’s obsessed with you, Y/n.” 

“Shut up! Just, shut up!” You stop stirring the pasta to collect your thoughts, breathing in before you lash out at Minho over the phone. “Go watch my kids-“

“Our kids.”

“Go watch our kids and never speak to me about this again. I’ll tell Jeongin to get his grades up. Just, for fuck’s sake, leave me alone.” You hang up, angrily throwing your phone onto the counter again. You hear the floor squeak behind you and you turn around, a scared Jeongin standing behind you with the blanket wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His eyes well up with tears, fearful of how you’ll respond. “This was a mistake.” 

“Jeongin, baby, no!” You drop the spoon to the edge of the pot and bring Jeongin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. His arms wrap around your neck, the blanket falling to the floor to reveal him wearing one of your big shirts. “Don’t mind him. How much did you hear?”

“A-all of it.” He sniffles, collecting himself with deep breaths. “I didn’t know I’d cause so much trouble.”

“It’s Minho who’s causing trouble, not you.” You pet down his back, trying to get him to calm down and stop crying. “Go back to my room and lay down, babe.” 

“Can I stay out here and watch you?” You lean down to pick up the blanket, wrapping it around Jeongin again. His eyes are puffy and red as if he’s been emotional for a while, and your heart aches just looking at his disheveled state. 

“Of course, baby. Go sit on that stool.” He pulls the stool out from under the kitchen island and gets comfortable, leaning on the counter with his elbows. You go back to stirring the pasta, watching it rise and fall. “I love you, Jeongin.” 

“I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for inviting me here today.” He swoons at your bright demeanor, a stark contrast from the bitter persona you’d taken while on the phone with his professor. “What did you mean when you said I’m a… real man?” 

You laugh a bit, dropping the spoon to the side and getting butter and a bowl out for the pasta. “Lee Minho was never a good man. He takes advantage of everyone who comes into his life. You’re not like that.” 

Jeongin tilts his head. “Then what am I like?” 

“You’re, uh…” you put your hand on your chin, scratching at your skin in thought. “You’re very kind and genuine, which is a bit surprising for a boy your age.”

Jeongin hated every time you brought up age. It only furthered to remind him about how different you two were, and how he never had a chance with you from the start. In your eyes, he’ll never be more than a kid, and that ate away and him. Jeongin’s only goal with you was for you to see him as an equal rather than a child, but he wasn’t sure how to go about reaching that.

“So I’m a real man?” Jeongin smiles, his heart fluttering thinking of you calling him a man. 

“Pasta’s ready! Do you want cheese?” You pour the pasta from the strainer into the bowl, mixing it with the butter. Per your request, Jeongin gets the powdered cheese out of the refrigerator, sitting at the kitchen island again, this time with you right next to him, piling pasta onto his plate before yours, your motherly instincts kicking in again. 

“Thank you mo- I mean, Y/n!” You both giggle at his adorable slip up, appreciating each other’s company. 

“You’re welcome, baby boy.” You push his hair from his forehead and kiss his nose, his cheeks quickly turning a deep shade of pink. “So cute.” 

taglist: @milkym00n @sparklysung @starsareseen @sailorhyunjinz @gothicstay @vogueinnie​ @mariannaab

[sequinsmile-x]

Gentle

Well, it’s been a HELL of a 24 hours in the Hotchniss fandom, and I thought we could all do with some fluff. So, here it is in the form of a domestic Hotchniss mini-fic.

This is set in my Full House universe, which also has a follow up called Empty Nest 

Words: 2,242

TW: Pregnancy/Sickness/Labour 

It was her turn to put Ivy to bed, the little girl insisting for once that Emily did it. She didn’t complain, her daughter's requests were so rare for her that she jumped at the chance to do it. To watch her fight sleep as she read her a story, her grip on Emily’s clothing loosening as sleep finally won out. 

Emily gently closes the bedroom door behind her and goes in search of her husband. She has to stop when she gets to the bottom of the stairs, breathlessness caused by the baby in her belly still taking her by surprise even at this stage of her second pregnancy. She feels her little girl shift around and smiles. She spots the dining room light is on and walks towards it, seeing her husband sitting at the table, intently watching his screen, headphones on. 

He spots her almost immediately, and closes the laptop so quickly it makes her raise a brow at him. He takes his headphones off, and attempts to look nonchalant.  She rounds the dining room table and stands next to him, hip resting against him as he sits. 

“You know I don’t mind if you watch porn, honey. I’d just rather you didn’t watch it where our children eat breakfast.” 

Aaron flushes immediately, an outraged look flooding his face as he looks at her. “I am not watching porn, Emily.” 

She holds her hands up and can’t help the smile that blooms on her face at his irritation. “Well what are you watching then?” 

He sighs and opens the laptop, the screen displaying a YouTube video of a woman braiding a little girl's hair. 

“Ok, not what I was expecting.” She lowers herself into the chair next to him, hand pressed into her baby bump as she does so, a grateful smile aimed at him as he helps her settle. 

Aaron places his hand on her belly, smiling when he feels their daughter move around under Emily’s skin. “Ivy keeps insisting that I do her hair.” 

“Because you’re her favourite.” Emily grumbles, the irritation in her tone fake as given away by her still present smile. It irked her sometimes, that their daughter was obsessed with Aaron when she was the one who had brought her into this world, but then she’d see them together and her heart would melt. 

Ivy was always seeking Aaron out, wanting to curl up in his lap at any opportunity, or be carried by him everywhere. The way they looked at each other made Emily’s entire body sing with happiness, and it made every single thing that they had been through, together and apart, seem worth it.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t currently holding out hope that the baby she was currently pregnant with would be a mommy’s girl. It seemed only fair. 

“Ivy keeps insisting that I do her hair.” He repeats, ignoring her comment about favouritism. “And I want to make sure I do a good job.” 

He gestures towards the notebook next to the laptop, and that's when she realises he had been taking notes. 

Emily has to bite her lip to stop the pure happiness that bursts in her chest from pouring out. Not for the first time she was wondering how on earth she had gotten so lucky to marry Aaron, to have his children. She still berated herself sometimes for not noticing him sooner, for the time they had lost in the years where they both just ignored what was clearly there. 

“I love you so much.” She says, the words flowing from her so easily. “You’re such a good dad.” 

Aaron smiles at her, and dutifully ignores the fact that she absolutely has tears in her eyes, a complete slave to her hormones at this late stage of her pregnancy. “I love you too, and you’re an amazing mom.” 

She smiles at that, and a tear falls onto her face which she quickly wipes away, her frustration at her constantly wavering emotions clear. “You are so getting lucky tonight, Agent Hotchner.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yes. As soon as you help get me out of this chair.” 

______

Emily yawns as she reaches the bottom of the stairs the next morning, excited to drink the one caffeinated drink she was allowed a day, and is stopped in her tracks at the adorable sight in front of her. 

Ivy is sitting on the kitchen counter, something that would usually make her nervous, with Aaron standing behind her putting the finishing touches on her hair, two dutch braids holding their 2 year olds unruly hair into place. Emily wonders how on earth their tiny daughter managed to convince Aaron to braid her hair before 7am on a Sunday, but it didn’t overly surprise her. The little girl was quickly learning there wasn’t much she couldn’t get her father to do. 

“Daddy done?” Ivy’s sweet little voice asks, shifting on the counter like she’d been sitting there patiently for hours, when Emily knew it was likely only minutes. 

Aaron chuckles and Emily watches as he secures the final hair tie. “Almost, sweetheart. You certainly got Mommy’s patience as well as her hair, huh?” 

The look he throws over his shoulder lets her know that comment was purely for her, his first acknowledgement that she was in the room. She rolls her eyes at him and walks over, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she joins them at the counter. “Is Jack up?” 

“He’s awake but still in bed.” He explains as he finishes his task, immediately picking Ivy up and hoisting her onto his hip. “All done.” 

Emily smiles as her daughter grins. “You look so pretty, baby.” She leans forward and presses a kiss to Ivy’s cheek. “Maybe Daddy should do my hair.” 

Ivy frowns at that, her grasp on Aaron’s pyjama shirt tightening. “No, my Daddy.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at her husband when he laughs. “Well, how about Daddy makes us all breakfast?” She tickles the little girl's belly, smiling when a laugh escapes her. “And you and me go watch some cartoons?” 

Ivy seems to consider it for a second before nodding, reaching for her mother with tiny hands. Emily gladly accepts her, shooting down any protests from Aaron on whether she should be carrying her when she’s 8 months pregnant with a single raised eyebrow, and holds her daughter close. 

Emily presses a kiss to the little girl's head. “What do we think for breakfast? Pancakes?” Ivy nods enthusiastically and Emily smiles at her husband over their daughters head. “Pancakes it is.” 

Aaron rolls his eyes but is already getting the pans out by the time Emily leaves the kitchen. She walks to the living room and places Ivy down on the couch before sitting next to her, the little girl immediately cuddling into her mother’s side, her hand pressed on her belly. 

“Baby.” 

Emily looks down at her daughter and pulls her slightly closer, lamenting briefly that her bump made it close to impossible. “That’s right, sweetie. Baby.” 

Ivy frowns slightly at that, a look that makes her look exactly like Aaron, no matter what he said. She then cuddles into Emily, tiny hands grabbing at her shirt. “My Mama.” 

Emily smothers a laugh by biting her lip, and mentally makes a note that they will have to talk to their daughter about sharing, again, before the baby arrives.

_________

He looks so worried when he enters her hospital room it makes her heart ache. Aaron gently slips into the room and closes the door behind him, their hours old baby in his arms. 

“Hey, honey.” Emily rasps out, cringing at how exhausted she sounded even to herself. “You ok?” 

Aaron fixes a look at her and walks over, sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. Expertly holding their tiny daughter with one hand so he can grasp one of Emily’s in his own. “No, I am not ok. You almost died.” 

She tilts her head at him and smiles, her chapped lips sticking together. “I’m fine, Aaron.”

“You lost half your blood volume, Emily.” 

“Hey.” She reaches up with her other hand and cups his cheek, the terror in his voice briefly overriding her need to hold her baby. “I’m ok. It was scary as hell, and I can’t imagine what it must have been like to watch, but I’m ok.” She smiles as he presses a kiss to her palm. “She’s ok too, right?”

He smiles then, the first real one since he walked into the room, and looks down at the sleeping bundle in his arms. “She’s perfect.” 

“Can I hold her?” She had only held her for a fleeting second before everything went wrong, the baby snatched from her chest as quickly as she had been placed there when things started to get really hazy, really fast. 

Aaron doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.” He passes their newborn daughter into her arms, careful not to knock any of the many IVs Emily has attached to her following the emergency that had come shortly after their youngest’s birth. 

Emily smiles broadly at her newborn. “Hi sweet girl. Hi Audrey. You’re so beautiful.” She raises her up, her arms feeling weak, and presses a kiss to the baby’s head. “You look just like your sister did when she was a little baby.” 

“You mean she looks just like you.” Aaron says, reaching forward to straighten the cannula Emily had her nose that was delivering oxygen to her. “I called Jessica, she’s going to bring the kids by in the morning. I’ve held the team off too, I thought you’d appreciate some time after what happened.” 

She tears her eyes off of her baby and looks at her husband. “Thank you, I don’t really feel up to any visitors right now.” She looks back down at Audrey. “Plus I must look a state.” 

“You look beautiful.” 

Emily looks up at him with a raised brow. “You’re a liar, but you’re sweet.” She looks at Audrey. “Daddy is lying, Mommy looks terrible but you’re worth it.” 

She flicks her head back, the hair that had been in the loose bun she had put it in at the start of labour escaping into her face. She makes a frustrated noise when it immediately falls back. 

Aaron looks at her and gets off the bed in search for her hospital bag, digging through it until he finds her hairbrush. He moves back towards the bed. “Shift forward a bit.” 

Emily looks up at him questioningly and shakes her head when she realises what he’s offering to do. “Oh, Aaron no. My hair is disgusting.” 

“Em, sweetheart, we’re married. I’ve seen worse. You do remember your bachelorette party right? Or the aftermath at least.” 

She knows if she was well enough she would have blushed, memories of him sitting with her on the bathroom floor when she was throwing up, cursing the day Penelope Garcia was born. Crying as he wiped tears, and vomit, from her face whilst she asked if he was still sure he wanted to marry her. 

“Fair point.” She says, wincing as she moves forward enough for him to slip in behind her. Audrey cries out, and Emily’s attention is immediately back on her baby, soothing her with gently rocking and noises as Aaron does her hair.

“I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are unless I ask you not to be.” She quips, smiling when he grips her shoulder and mumbles something about her being ridiculous under his breath. 

She sits there and feels as he brushes it through, trying not to cringe when stringy parts of it fall in her face as she thinks about how much she really needs a shower. It feels nice when he braids it, being as gentle with her as he is with Ivy, and she thinks it might be one of the most intimate things he’s ever done for her. 

When he’s done he flicks the braid over her shoulder and pulls her back to rest against him, placing the brush on the bedside cabinet. 

“Thank you.” She says softly, leaning her temple against his. “Ivy would be jealous.” 

He laughs, wrapping his arms around her. “She can never know.” 

Emily lifts Audrey to kiss her again, marvelling in the smell of her baby’s skin. “I better be your favourite, little one. Considering I almost just died bringing you into this world.”

“Emily.”

“Too soon?”

_________

All of their daughters, including the twins when they come along, end up insisting Aaron does their hair, and over the years the styles he can do get more elaborate. 

It’s something she never shares with anyone, not even JJ and Penelope, because she knows he would be embarrassed by it, even though it was one of her favourite things about him. How much he loved their children, how absurd his huge hands looked braiding the hair of tiny little girls, so gentle in his touch that they never complained. 

Years down the line when Ivy gets married she nervously asks Aaron if he’d do her hair for the day, one final reminder of her childhood, something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. 

He’s thrilled. But insists on practising on Emily since he swears he is rusty at it now, the times when the girls would line up in the living room to get him to do their hair long gone. A fleeting memory of when they were small, and their house was full. 

Emily lets him, and playfully argues with him as he insists on trying just one more time. She tells him, having had one drink too many at her eldest daughter's wedding, that she’s always liked him doing her hair too. 

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love Is Not Over (2)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Nothing, just very cute moments between mom and son.

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: Heyo, if you want to be added to this story's tag list, you can reply to this post or message me!

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next 

Tag List: @kurochan3​ @mrcleanheichou​

      “Yunho! Are you dressed?” I called up the stairs. “Yes! I’m coming!” Yunho called back in an excited voice. It was a wonder how he could be so awake and peppy at 6am. Maybe it was his hybrid genes... Golden retrievers are notorious for being cheerful dogs. 

      I heard Yunho’s rapid steps, and he quickly came skipping into the kitchen, immediately hugging my leg. I set down the butter knife I was using to make his lunch and gave him a full hug, kissing his forehead. 

      “Are you excited for your first day of school?” I asked, picking off some lint that was on his shirt. “Yes! I get to make new friends!” He exclaimed, hopping up and down. It made me chuckle. Even if I was exhausted, he was like a dose of happiness medicine. “I’m glad.” I smiled. 

      I got Yunho his breakfast and finished preparing his lunch. I did a check over all of his things to make sure he had everything he needed. I checked off every box in my head. Pencil case... Notebook... Water bottle... “Eomma!” Yunho called out for me. I walked over to the dining room and saw him sitting in his chair, still eating his breakfast. “What’s up bub?” I asked. “Can you sit with me? Please?” 

     I nodded, walking over and sitting in my seat. Yunho smiled and went back to eating. We sat in comfortable silence while I pet his head. I just admired him for a minute. I don’t know what God blessed me with such a son, but whoever it was, I’m indebted to you for life. 

     Yunho was a calm baby. In the way of, he wasn’t a screamer. I remember Hyejin telling me horror stories about Hajun screaming in the middle of the night, startling both her and Yoongi awake. They worried me when I had Yunho, but he never screamed, maybe once or twice, but he normally kept his volume to a reasonable decibel level. 

     Yes, Yunho was enthusiastic, but he never raised his voice enough to where it was anything but childlike excitement. As a baby, he’d just cry, but he’d cry softly. There wasn’t a right way to describe it. If I was in the kitchen and he was sitting on a blanket in the living room, I would hear him cry, but it wasn’t ear piercing. Maybe it was due to the small house that I could easily hear him... He was just a calm baby. 

     When he was around 3 and 4, he started being very emotive and enthusiastic. At first he’d do it all the time, even when he was supposed to be extra quiet. But after teaching him that there's a time and a place to be expressive, he caught on pretty quickly. 

    That didn’t mean we didn’t have problems though. More than once he’d draw on the walls or walk through the house with his shoes on. Sometimes he was in a foul mood and would throw a fit, but that was rare. There was a time he refused to clean his room, and it hurt my soul to put my foot down, but I was still his mother. 

Point being, Yunho was the sun. A sun that deserved the universe. 

      “Alright bub, are you ready?” I held Yunho’s hand as he stood wide-eyed in front of the school building. Yunho had only been to a small daycare that was also a kindergarten, so this is all new to him. I slowly started walking forward with Yunho walking behind me. It was cute, but I knew he couldn’t hide from school forever. I don’t want to go to jail. 

      The building was dazzling and straight out of a fairytale. Artwork lined the halls and the walls were painted with dragons and princesses, the occasional mermaid here and there. All in all, a very welcoming place. I could see Yunho’s eyes light up as he looked at the walls, and he was slowly walking next to me again. 

    We stopped in front of a room labeled, “Mrs. Hopkin’s First Grade Kingdom!” It made me chuckle. The building seemed to have a theme going on here. We walked in, hand in hand, and if I thought the hallways jumped out of a fairytale, this room jumped out of a Disney movie. 

     It was set up like the ordinary first-grade classroom, but the one wall had a whole mural. There were fairytale decorations hanging from the ceiling. The floor tiles were white with dots of rainbow colors, and they set the desks up in clusters inspired by different fairytale creatures. As in, one table cluster was mermaid-inspired, decorated with scales and a seashell rug underneath. One was dragon-inspired with flame details and a dragon stuffed animal in the middle of the table. A green rug was also underneath the table.

     It made you wonder for a second if you stopped at the wrong school because this seemed expensive and you definitely didn’t have the money to send Yunho to a rich kid's school. Being a writer paid well, but not THAT well. 

     Soon, an old woman walked up to us. She was wearing a floral, floor-length skirt and a white button up. “Hello! I’m Mrs. Hopkin. Welcome!” She smiled, and it was the classic grandmother smile. “Hello! I’m Y/n and this is Yunho.” Yunho waved, still holding my hand. “Lovely to meet you, we’re just about to start!” Mrs. Hopkin exclaimed, so I let Yunho go and ushered him to go play while I went to stand with the rest of the moms and dads. 

     This was a primarily hybrid school since Yunho and I lived in a predominately hybrid community. Meaning, most the parents were also hybrids, but I didn’t care. I hung around hybrids for 2/3rds of my life. Funnily, hanging out with another human would be odd for me. However, that didn’t stop the occasional side glances and looks I would get. 

     I was used to it at this point because I stuck out like a neon sign. It happened everywhere I went. We lived in a pretty sizeable community, meaning I didn’t have to go out of town a lot. At first, it made me insecure, but Hyejin and Yoongi snapped me out of it and told me they weren’t judging me; they were just surprised. I remember Yoongi’s wise words... “Look, dumbo, what the hell are they gonna judge you for? Living? Breathing? I already do that, so no need to worry.”

He got a pretty good punch from Hyejin for that one. 

     Mrs. Hopkin clapped her hands, calling everyone's attention to the front of the class. “Hello everyone! Welcome to first grade!” She exclaimed enthusiastically, “We’ll be going over the rules and then we will say goodbye to our mommies and daddies.” And just like that, she started explaining the basics. It made me think she rehearsed this in a mirror last night. She flowed as if she was running on muscle memory. Or maybe she's been teaching for way too long. 

      It was fairly simple. Keep your hands to yourself, listen to whoever is speaking, raise your hand, yadda yadda... I’ve been to first grade before. After Mrs. Hopkins finished speaking to the parents about expectations and what happens if one of our kids is bad, she let us all say our goodbyes. Yunho ran and jumped on me, burying his face into my chest. 

      He was scenting me, showing me he was nervous. “You’ll be okay, bub. I’ll be here to pick you up before you know it.” I pet his head and his tail started wagging. “I don’t want Eomma to go...” He whined. I swore that my heart exploded. “But you were so excited this morning?” I chuckled. “I take it back.” He grumbled. I cooed and softly put him down, unraveling the scarf I had around my neck. 

      “Here you go. Just for today, okay? You’re a big boy now, Yunnie.” I smiled at his big puppy eyes. Yunho held to scarf to his nose, and I gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, baby.” I whispered. “I love you too, Eomma.” 

      Stepping out of the school, away from my son, was eye opening. Yunho was growing right before my eyes, and before I know it, he’ll be walking out of this school grown. Ready to tackIe the next level of school. It makes me tear up a bit and I feel like a mother in a slice of life film. I chuckle, shaking my head as I get into my car. 

      Just as I’m about to start it up, my phone rings. Hyejin. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask, deciding that I’d drive after this call. “Y/n! Thank god you answered!” She sighed in relief. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” She hums and I can hear ruckus in the background. “Yes... No...? I’m in a predicament.”

     “What?” I chuckle nervously, unsure if I should be worried. “So... Um... I forgot today was the boy’s first day of school, so Hajun is not there...” She cautions. “Okay? He can go tomorrow.” I reason. “He’s with me... And I can’t watch him, I have to go to work.” If I was in The Office, this would be the moment where I would look directly into the camera with a blank stare. 

“Hyejin-”

“I know! You can scold me later... Can you come pick him up? Please~” She begged.

“Yeah, I can... I’m at the school right now.” I grumbled.

“Great! Meet me at the daycare so you don’t have to drive as much. I love you!” 

I sighed, shaking my head. She’s going to be the death of me. 

[calpalirwin]

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg​ for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

���Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers. 

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

__

Tag List

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[ruzek-halstead]

keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)

julie doesn't expect one of the worst days of her life to lead to the best.

an alternate universe where julie is a talented tattoo artist, battling her demons and luke occasionally helps out at a flower shop because recording a demo isn't cheap. their meeting isn't the most glamorous, but it's one for the books.

masterlist || ao3 

It’s only when she turns her head to the side and her curls follow, that he notices the black outline of a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. It’s unbelievably simple and void of any colour, but Luke finds it suits her. Her arm reaches out as she playfully hits the shoulder of someone she’s with and Luke catches more of the ink on her skin. He spots the dahlia first, and her reaction at the flower shop when he thought they didn’t have any makes a lot more sense; it must have a deep meaning to her.

The urge he feels to know everything and anything about her overwhelms him.

The moment Julie's alarm clock starts ringing that rainy Wednesday morning, she knows it can only go further downhill from there.

She has been dreading this day for the entire month, and now that it's finally here, she isn't sure how to feel. She knows how she feels; her insides are turning themselves inside out and the pinch at the front of her forehead signals the start of a headache that will most likely be there for the remainder of the day.

It's only seven-thirty in the morning and her phone is already flooding with messages. They're mostly from her dad, reminding her what today is. It isn't as if she needs a reminder; this day will stick with her for as long as she walks this earth. Other messages are from her Tía Victoria, a bit more aggressive, trying to ensure Julie's presence later tonight.

Julie understands it's all in good faith; she knows that. It doesn't help lessen the pain though.

She's has never found it anything less than difficult to visit her mother's grave. The image of Rose being lowered in her coffin will forever stay burned in Julie's mind, and that was all she could picture whenever she went back. However, the standing tradition was that they all would visit her mother's grave on the anniversary of her death.

Julie visited on the first anniversary. She was only able to stay the entirety of four minutes before she ran to the nearest trashcan to empty out her insides.

She stopped by the second year but couldn't find the strength to leave the car.

By the third year, the mere thought of visiting the cemetery was enough to send Julie into a whirlwind of panic attacks; they were so debilitating that she couldn't even leave her apartment.

At the fourth anniversary, Julie simply opted to not go. Her father was disappointed, her Tía was angry (even though she tried to hide it) and her brother said nothing at all.

Today marks the fifth anniversary of Rose's death, and once again, she's expected to show up. Even if the pain is just as fresh as the day it happened, the expectation is that she'll show up anyway with flowers and say something nice and meaningful.

Julie doesn't have anything nice or meaningful to say because she's still so angry that something like this even happened in the first place. She doesn't see why she has to hide her anger, why she has to hide it for the sake of her family. It should be okay that she's still grieving; it isn't something you just get over.

Julie clears the messages from her phone without responding. She has work to get to, and she can't be anymore distracted than she already is. She jumps in for a quick shower, not bothering to style her hair since it was a dreary, rainy day anyway. She chooses a pair of black ripped jeans, a matching black cropped band t-shirt and her red and black plaid shirt to complete the outfit. Grabbing an apple for the road, she picks up her army green jacket, an umbrella and quickly weaves through the crowds of people on the street until she reaches her destination.

The 'OPEN' sign is still turned off, but she spots lights flickering in the back. Balancing her umbrella and the apple she shoved in her mouth due to lack of hands, she uses her key to let herself in.

Willie is already in the back, setting up his station for a full day of appointments. Somehow people were always willing to get pricked with a needle, no matter how much it hurt.

Their other co-workers, Flynn and Carrie haven't arrived yet.

Julie is grateful for that. After working with these people for so many years, they know a lot about her and most of them were even there when her mother's health severely started deteriorating out of nowhere.

They know exactly what today is.

She doesn't want to be coddled in the way she knows they'll want to.

Luckily, she doesn't have to worry about that with Willie. He somehow just understands exactly what everyone needs, no words necessary.

"Morning Jules," he murmurs, motioning behind him to the break room. "I set the coffee a bit ago. Can you check on that?"

Julie, ever grateful for the distraction, drops her things at her station and rushes into the break room. Coffee is a must every morning, and it's best to always have a fresh pot. You never know when you'll need a fix. After so many years of working together, they've all memorized each other's coffee orders and so, Julie takes it upon herself to prepare everyone's coffee.

It's mostly for a distraction. But every time she thinks of things as distractions, it only reminds her of what she's trying to distract herself from. It's a lose-lose situation.

"Good morning Julie!"

Julie turns to glance over her shoulder at where Carrie is walking in, hooking her jacket on the coat rack and shaking out the raindrops from her loose waves. She immediately dives for her coffee, taking a deep gulp with a sigh of pleasure.

Her blue eyes meet Julie's surprised brown ones. Carrie merely sends her a small smile and doesn't say anything else. Julie sends one back.

"Is Nick coming in today?" Julie asks, turning back to the four coffees.

Nick is their apprentice, currently working with Carrie. He doesn't come in everyday and Julie doesn't want to waste a perfectly good coffee if he isn't coming in.

"No, not today. He gets days off. Anyone know what those are?"

Julie lets out a snort. She spots the pleased smile on Carrie's lips from the corner of her eye. She understands her co-workers are trying to make this day as pain-free as possible and she really appreciates it.

"Jules, your phone's going off again!" Willie yells from the other room. Julie frowns, knowing exactly who it is and what it's for. She glances at her watch, noting it's time to open. She grabs her coffee along with Willie's and drops it off along the way.

Julie once again presses decline, silences it, and shoves it into one of her drawers. She ignores the somewhat knowing look from Willie; she knows he won't say anything.

She can feel it in the aggressive manner of her movements; she's just so frustrated. She's frustrated with her emotions and what she's feeling. A part of her thinks she should be over it by now, so she wouldn't have to suffer through this every year. But she knows that's ridiculous; this kind of pain doesn't just disappear overnight. She's also frustrated with her family. They don't seem to care about what she's feeling and instead solely on what they want her to do.

But then, she's also frustrated with herself.

Why is it so difficult for her to visit her mother? Maybe it would be therapeutic and bring Julie some closure. She knows this, but her body rejects the idea at every attempt.

It's frustrating all around and Julie can feel herself growing sour as the day goes on.

Julie never pictured herself going into tattooing. To be perfectly honest, blood used to freak the hell out of her and in large quantities, it still does. But she always had an interest in drawing. It started with little doodles on the corners of her notebooks, then when she was gifted her first proper drawing pad, she filled it up within days. It was the one thing that brought her joy, so she decided to make something out of it.

Tattooing was still never on her radar. It wasn't until Julie met up with some of her cousins at a family get together that the idea was proposed. After that, Julie furthered her education on drawing and applied for an apprenticeship with an experienced tattoo artist. She wanted to see if it was the right profession for her, and she was amazed by how much she loved it.

Her mentor thought she was adorable at first. She was so tiny, and so bare of any tattoos, but when she started showcasing her talent, both knew this was the right place for Julie. She stayed there for a few months and eventually started venturing elsewhere. That's when she discovered Willie and his tattoo parlour Powerhouse.

He's absolutely the chillest boss Julie has ever encountered. He cares that you do your job and you do it properly. She also met some pretty amazing coworkers along the way, so it was quite possibly one of the best decisions she ever made.

Sitting in the break room during a gap in appointments, Julie idly stares at the ink littering her forearms. She never saw the appeal to ink her skin before her mom passed away. After that, she was desperate to keep her memory alive, and as close to her as possible.

The black outline of a dahlia on her wrist reminds Julie of her mother's favourite flower; she always made sure to have them in the house, even if they were out of season. There was a flower shop nearby that always managed to get them in, and coincidentally, it ended up being the shop across the street from where she worked now. Julie is familiar with the elderly lady who owned the shop, Beverly; she's the absolute sweetest, and continued to get dahlias even after Rose had passed away.

Julie likes to keep some in her apartment as well, so she continues stopping by.

She kept adding designs to her skin as time went on.

Her style is mostly black ink, thin lines. She understands most people get tattoos without a specific meaning behind it, as getting a tattoo is already meaningful enough. But Julie has always been dead set on having all her tattoos mean something to her.

She has her mother's signature on the underside of her other wrist. This one, Carlos and she got together. It's the only time Carlos ever let her come close to him with a needle, even though she has begged him multiple times.

Julie also has a black butterfly on the back of her shoulder. She loves butterflies and everything they represent; rebirth, change, hope, transformation, everything she wishes she could do.

She has a few more littering the skin on her arms, all personal designs, and all done by her ridiculously talented co-workers; Julie wouldn't trust anyone else.

Julie's day has dragged on, and she's still dodging calls from her family. It hurt, deep down in her chest that she's ignoring them, but it hurt so much more thinking about her mom and where she is.

When her phone rings again as she's cleaning up her station after the last client of the evening, Julie moves to decline the call. She stops short when she notices the screensaver is a dorky photo she took of Carlos many years ago; it's her brother calling, and he hasn't bothered to do so in quite a while.

Julie, with hesitation, decides to pick up the phone anyway. She hasn't talked to her brother in months, and she can't decline his call; it would hurt too much.

"Julie," he greets, seemingly surprised she even picked up; he knows what she's like on his particular day. It's like a breath of fresh air hearing his voice, and it makes Julie feel even worse for ignoring her father and Tía's calls earlier.

"Hey Carlos," Julie replies softly. "How are you?

It's a dumb question, but it was instinct more than anything else.

"I'm okay, considering," Carlos responds honestly, and Julie's heart nearly bursts from how much it hurts. To know her little brother is hurting and she has been avoiding him like the plague, it makes her feel like a terrible sister. And that wouldn't be far from the truth, considering how MIA she has been with her entire family. "Are you coming tonight?"

Julie inhales sharply. It's easier to just decline calls to let them know she isn't coming rather than actually having to tell them. "I'm sorry Carlos, I don't think I can make it tonight."

There's an ominous silence from the other end. They both know Julie's full of shit.

"Okay," he replies solemnly. "I just —" When Julie hears what she thinks is a quiet sob, her eyes immediately well up with tears. For a second, it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room and she can't figure out how to breathe. "I would really like it if you came. I need you."

Carlos is so obviously in pain and Julie doesn't have it in her to deny it anymore. She's in pain too, but it isn't just about her.

"I'll be there," Julie tells him, voice breaking on the last word. "I'm just finishing work, but I'll meet you all there."

"Thanks Jules," he thanks her, but honestly, there's no need. "I love you."

Julie hastily wipes at the tears that have escaped. "I love you too. See you soon."

Julie immediately ends the phone call and ducks her head into her arms to silence the sobs wracking her body.

God, it hurt so much.

Everything hurt.

Julie only allows herself to fall apart for a single minute. After that, she composes herself and wipes away her tears. She had promised Beverly she would stop by today, as she always sent Julie some dahlias on the anniversary of her mother's death. She figures she may as well bring them to her mother's grave; her father would appreciate it.

Julie hastily grabs her jacket from the back and storms to the front door. Her co-workers are still in, so she mumbles a quick goodbye but doesn't stay long enough to receive any questions. In her rush, she forgets to grab her umbrella and of course, it's still raining out.

She growls in frustration under her breath. She isn't usually an angry person, but today she's completely out of it.

The flower shop is only across the street, so she quickly makes a run for it and ducks into the shop.

Julie is expecting to see Beverly behind the counter, so she's unpleasantly surprised to see a floppy-haired, sleeveless man sitting behind it instead. She was truly hoping to see Beverly; she always made Julie feel better, especially on days like this.

So, she can't exactly explain the overwhelming feeling of rage that overtakes her.

Luke is sitting behind the counter on a stool, pencil between his lips, brows furrowed together as he reviews his latest lyrics. His head is bopping up and down as he murmurs the words from the notebook splayed on his lap.

He's been in a bit of a rut lately and everything he seems to write makes him want to bang his head against the wall.

The flower shop is quiet and slow, and it's the perfect place for Luke to write out his latest song ideas. They are still three songs short for the demo album they're currently recording and Luke is on a bit of a time crunch. It's a miracle they found a studio willing to let them record their demo album at all, but that's the price of knowing people (or Reggie knowing people; he meets a lot of random people).

Unfortunately, recording a demo doesn't pay much, so Luke helps out in the flower shop occasionally. Beverly is a family friend of his mom's and she's more than happy to have Luke help out so she can spend some more time with her grandkids.

When he hears the bell of the door go off, signalling there's a new customer, he glances up, pencil dropping into his lap. Her back is to him so he can only spot her unruly curls and army green jacket littered with raindrops.

He watches her silently; it isn't like he's trying to be creepy or anything, but usually he can tell by their expressions if they need his help or not. When she turns in his direction to glance at the row of flowers, he offers a friendly smile.

Luke is momentarily distracted by her effortless beauty, but his brows furrow at the obvious distress written on her features. Her eyes are slightly rimmed red, and he doesn't want to make any assumptions, but coupled with her rosy nose, it seems as if she has been crying. There's a pinch in her brow, and Luke can't tell if she's angry or just severely upset.

Neither are his specialty, and truth be told, he figures he'll only make things worse if he tries to talk to her. But she looks so sad, and it is technically his job. How horribly could he mess this up?

With hesitation, he slips out from behind the counter and approaches her cautiously, bouncing on his heels.

"Hey!" Luke greets, his right hand automatically reaching towards the back of his head to scratch his scalp. He has been told it's his nervous tick, though he can't really help it at this point. His voice sounds so loud in the quiet shop; only the sounds of buzzing from the coolers can be heard. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Julie is still gazing over the flowers, growing irritated that there are no dahlias in sight. She spares a single look at his curious expression. His green eyes are searching her face, and she can only imagine how terrible she looks right now. His gaze is oddly intense and Julie breaks away like she's been burned.

Shaking her head to break out of her reverie, she looks back at the flowers. "I'm looking for dahlias."

"Oh!" Luke frowns, even more so when Julie doesn't make further eye contact. "Sorry, we don't have any in stock right now. Not the season."

Luke has dealt with crabby customers before, normally upset because they don't have what they're looking for. He's used to that, and he has a pretty upbeat demeanour that helps him whenever he has to talk down customers. And though Julie looks upset, he doesn't expect her to snap the way she does.

She turns to face him with such ferocity that the ends of her jacket flap against his thigh. There’s a wild gleam in her eye as it twitches. “What?” Though the single word is packed with animosity and venom, Luke spots the hint of desperation beneath. “That’s not possible. This place always has dahlias! They have to be here somewhere!" Her voice lowers into a soft whine when she says, "I need them."

Julie’s eyes flood with tears the more she speaks, and though she realizes he probably has no idea that Beverly always makes sure there are dahlias for her, she can’t help but let her frustrations out somewhere. Plus, she doesn't know him, so it's fine, right?

At the prospect of Julie bursting into tears right there and then in front of him, Luke jumps right into panic mode.

If Beverly’s shop receives a terrible review because of him, she will absolutely have his head.

(Beverly is a sweet lady but the sass.)

“Uh — hold on, just give me a second,” Luke stutters, reaching his hand out as if to comfort her. Julie’s eyes drop down to his hand and he snaps it back and tangles it into the back of his head with a sheepish smile. He’s always been very touch-oriented; it’s a problem sometimes, especially with people he doesn’t know very well. He just can't help it; if he sees someone in pain and suffering, he'll want jump in and help. However, it seems like the only way to help this particular distraught customer is to find some dahlias. “Hey, okay — listen, why don’t I check in the back? I could definitely be wrong.”

Julie’s eyes meet his and he becomes increasingly aware that she’s about ready to lose her bearings and cry right there in front of him. It makes his heart turn in his chest, and he doesn’t even know her that well. He takes a step back to head to the cooler but his hesitation is at an all-time high; Julie looks so ready to explode and it rubs him the wrong way to leave her on her own.

But he figures it’ll be for the best if he can find the dahlias, so he awkwardly steps back to enter the cooler. The cooler is relatively empty, only vases with long-stemmed roses, some ready-to-go arrangements and a few orders waiting to be picked up. He walks through the cooler quickly, checking any crevice for hidden dahlias. It’s only when he spots a bouquet of dahlias with baby’s breath, neatly wrapped in cellophane that he stops in his tracks. There’s a note attached and Luke recognizes Beverly’s loopy hand-writing.

A pretty, curly-haired brunette will be by to pick these up later. No charge. Please be nice, Luke.

Luke nearly snorts at the addition of the note, but quickly realizes it was probably added because of the brunette’s emotional state that he just witnessed. He would otherwise argue he’s a very kind person.

(He isn’t usually wrong about what they have in stock either, but it seems today is a day for firsts.)

Luke grabs the bouquet and gently brings it back out. Luckily, the brunette hasn’t burst into tears; in fact, she seems more composed than earlier (he can’t help but think that maybe it was because his bothersome presence was gone).

“Ah — I’m sorry about that,” Luke apologizes, holding out the bouquet. He realizes the note Beverly left is still stuck onto the cellophane when he catches Julie’s eyes very obviously reading it. He awkwardly snatches the note back and shoves it into his pocket, but when he notices the right side of her lip quirk into a small smirk, he can’t help but feel a swell of pride. “Turns out Bev had this ready for you in the back.”

Julie accepts the bouquet, glancing up to send him a small, thankful smile. She recognizes she was quite snappy with him, and truthfully, he handled it considerably well as opposed to how he could have. But she also knows she isn’t mad at him and he didn’t deserve to be her punching bag today. Whoever he is.

Julie doesn’t recognize him, but he seems to know Beverly just as well as she does. He has a decently cute smile and Julie seems to be drawn to his mannerisms; the way he constantly scratches the back of his scalp or bites his lip when he’s awaiting replies.

She only notices that she’s been staring at him for the last few seconds when he clears his throat and his hand dives towards the back of his neck. She would be embarrassed if this wasn’t already one of the worst days of her life; it truly can’t get any worse.

Instead, she pulls out her wallet with her free hand, but Luke shakes his head. She saw the note that said no charge, but she had been a nightmare, it was the least she could do. “No charge,” Luke murmurs, eyes latching to the delicately wrapped dahlias. “Boss’s orders.”

Julie forces another smile onto her lips. “Thank you,” she says. She debates saying anything else, maybe apologizing but she’s already running late and she doesn’t want her family to think she’s bailing on them again.

So, she turns to leave. Immediately, dread starts pooling at the bottom of her belly and she just knows getting to the cemetery will be one of the hardest things she'll have to face.

At watching her leave after a painfully obvious fake smile, Luke hesitates. He’s a curious person, and he doesn’t like to see people hurt. He always needs to make things better; it's part of who he is. So, he bites his lip and launches forward, blurting loudly, “Are you alright?”

Julie nearly snorts because she most definitely is not alright and that much is obvious, but it’s nice of him to ask anyway. She stops in her tracks and turns to him with soft eyes. “I’m not, but thank you anyway,” she replies honestly.

Her eyes drop down to search for a name tag, but he doesn’t have one. She then remembers the name scribbled on the note at the same time he supplies, “Luke.”

“Thank you anyway, Luke,” Julie repeats. Her eyes quickly roam over his features once again. She hadn’t noticed his sleeveless tank was an old band t-shirt, but at this close range, she could tell it had been purposely ripped and destroyed. The shirt, coupled with his distressed denim pants and outdated jean-chain gives her serious 90s vibes. She decides she likes it.

Luke nods in response, folding his lips in an awkward smile. Her warm brown eyes are softer now as they gaze at him and for some reason, he can feel his heartbeat start to pick up. She turns to walk away again and this time he doesn’t interrupt.

He would absolutely deny that he was creeping on her (he just happened to be looking in that direction) but he watches as she ducks into the tattoo parlour across the street. He finds it a bit odd; it seems like a weird place to go after a flower shop, especially given how upset she looked.

One thing he does know: it seems as if Beverly is quite familiar with this mysterious brunette, and he would be lying if he said he doesn't want to know more about her.

x

It's a fair assumption to say Luke’s life is a tad bit complicated at the moment.

His band, Sunset Curve, was graced with the amazing opportunity to record their demo in a borrowed studio. It was a truly unbelievable experience, and Luke was eating up every second. But as the resident songwriter, it was up to him to make sure they had enough original songs to even record.

It’s no secret that Luke has been having trouble in the inspiration department.

The lyrics just weren’t flowing to him like they usually did. He wasn’t really sure of the reason; he originally just assumed writer’s block. But then a certain event occurred and he started to see everything in a different light.

It sounds ridiculous, he knows that.

He doesn’t even know her name.

But her effortless beauty compelled him, and there was something about the sadness in her eyes that drew him in. There were many things about their encounter that were completely out of the ordinary. Her vulnerability and obvious desperation drove his curiosities wild and even though he’d only been in her presence for a few minutes, he was itching to know more.

So, he isn’t the least bit surprised when he starts adding words to his notebook as potential lyrics start spilling out of him.

Specifically, he focuses on her emotions and the obvious distress she seemed to be feeling. It’s out of the realm of his usual type of song, and maybe it isn’t something he’d pitch for the band, but a smile comes to his lips as he thinks of these passages just for himself.

she closed the door

she hides behind a face nobody knows

she feels her skin touch the floor

she wants to fight

but her eyes are tired, nobody’s on her side

she wants to feel like she did before

she looks into her mirror

wishing someone could hear her, so loud

It's definitely not his usual, but her presence in his life gets the ball rolling.

He needs to know more.

Luke finds himself a week later back in Beverly’s flower shop, this time with her by his side. They receive deliveries on Thursday evenings, so Luke usually stops in to help. He hadn’t gotten a chance to pick up another shift since he met the mysterious brunette last week due to back-to-back sessions at the studio, but this was finally his opportunity.

He hasn’t found the right opportunity to ask; he isn’t even sure what to say, but apparently his actions are a bit more obvious than he's intending them to be.

“Am I about to get robbed?”

At Beverly’s odd, but capturing question, Luke turns to her with furrowed brows. She’s sitting behind the counter, checking off their invoices one by one. He’s unloading boxes into the cooler, albeit slower than necessary. He’s a tad bit distracted by the glass windows.

“What?” He mumbles, stopping for a moment to focus on her words. He wipes a hint of sweat off his brow. For someone with a high level of stamina due to the countless hours on stage, he's quite embarrassed at how out of shape he seems to be from a few boxes.

Beverly peeks up at him over the rim of her glasses. “Well, you keep looking out the window, almost as if one of your dorky bandmates is about to run in and break into my register."

Luke snorts at the mention of his dorky bandmates; she definitely isn't wrong. But that isn't the reason why he continues to glance out the window.

“No. It’s just — that girl from last week, with the dahlias. Uh — what’s her name?”

Beverly's smirk is evident and he nearly shies away from the knowing look in her eye. “You didn’t ask for her name?”

His eyes roll back at the obvious judgment in her tone and he wants to laugh, but she's already beat him to it. “I was kind of distracted trying to make sure she didn't cry at the sight of my face."

"Right, I could've warned you about that."

Luke's eyes latch onto her smirk. "You could've."

“She’s a sweet girl,” Beverly sighed, filing another completed invoice. “She’s had a hard life, sad story, really.”

That certainly piqued Luke’s interest.

“What happened?”

But he should’ve figured Beverly wasn’t going to make it that easy for him.

“Not my story to tell,” she says simply. “But I can tell you her name is Julie and she works at the tattoo parlour across the street.”

Realization dawns on Luke at once. He saw her ducking into the parlour after buying flowers but he never imagined she actually worked there. It didn’t seem like her thing, but he should know better than anyone not to judge a book by its cover.

“Are you going to go talk to her?”

At Beverly’s absurd suggestion, he scoffs. “What? No. I was just curious; I don’t even know her.”

Beverly rolls her eyes. “How is it possible that the male species have gotten even stupider since my time?”

Luke drops his jaw in offence, but she's already slid her glasses back on and started studying the next invoice.

Did the thought of casually dropping by the tattoo parlour cross his mind? Yes, of course. But he doesn't want to do that. He isn't used to that. He's never the one that had to chase; it sounds stupid, especially because he hardly knows her, but sometimes there's just a feeling. A feeling that might not make any sense at all, but it's there and it's impossible to ignore.

Luke did his best to ignore the feeling, but only a mere week later, he would find that it wasn't that easy.

x

"Alright, boys. You all understand how important tonight is, right?"

Alex rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time, as if Luke hasn't drilled the thought into their minds a million times by now. Ever since they secured this gig, it was all Luke could talk about. They each knew how important it was. Yes, their demo was currently in the making but one amazing performance in front of some killer producers, and their demo may not even be necessary to get signed.

It's exciting and anxious as hell.

"I know, I know," Luke sighs, running his hands nervously through his hair. He can't stay still and he can't stop moving or his anxiety will eat him alive. "I'm just so nervous."

Reggie nods his head from the snack table. They each have their own ways of dealing with pre-stage jitters and nerves; Reggie's happens to be stress-eating, and his food of choice? Hot dogs. How he manages to not upchuck everything when onstage is a question they've all asked themselves multiple times.

"I get it dude," he says through a mouthful. "But we're going to rock this like we always do. It'll be awesome."

Reggie's words are comforting but they do little to ease Luke's nerves. This is a big deal for him, for all of them. After so many years of following their passions and trying to accomplish their dreams, a real chance is finally awaiting them just outside these doors.

It's enough to make him nearly puke twice before he makes it on stage, and it only frustrates him further because he never gets this panicky.

He works himself up before he takes the final plunge and finds his way to the one place in the world he's ever felt truly comfortable; centre-stage in front of a microphone with his guitar slung around his neck.

The lights are bright, but he's used to it. His connection to the crowd is instant; that's never been a problem for Luke. He reaches the crowd in the way he sings passionately, surrendering every emotion each song elicits.

He's trying not to think too much; he doesn't want to get too far into his head because he does his best work musically when he isn't thinking, only feeling the music coursing through his veins. He can easily spot the producers in the corporate pantsuits sitting in the far back corner and his eyes try to avoid them as best as possible.

He focuses on the music, on his boys and on giving the performance of a lifetime.

Luke is so focused, he momentarily misses the sight of his flower shop mystery girl smack-dab in the middle of the crowd. His eyes immediately snap back, catching her polite smile as she nods her head along with the music. Though she isn't jumping along like some fans in the front row, she is offering some acknowledgement that she's enjoying his music.

And he isn't sure why, but it sends a fire through his chest that animates him for the rest of the show.

They don't take any breaks during the set; their dedication is endless.

Luke can physically feel how animated the club is, how unbelievably well their show is going. He shouldn't be surprised but the nerves were too much for him earlier. By the time they're winding down for their last performance of the night, Luke doesn't want it to end.

But he's also perfectly aware of the incredibly important people sitting near the back and he knows he has to face them eventually.

They end their stellar performance with their favourite song to perform, so near and dear to their hearts, and also energetic as hell, Now or Never. It's the perfect oath to live their lives to the fullest, as Luke and the boys try to do every day. Today is no different; an opportunity came knocking and Luke plans to take full advantage.

When Luke finally makes his way off stage, everything seems to happen in slow motion.

He can idly feel Alex pulling on his tank and Reggie wrapping an arm around his shoulders, messing up his sweaty hair even more than it already was.

Even when a woman wearing a salmon coloured pantsuit sneaks into their makeshift dressing room to have a quick word, he feels like he's frozen in time, watching from outside his body.

Alex does all the talking (mostly nervous rambling) but the lady, who later introduces herself as Lucy Fields, happens to think it's adorably hilarious.

She tells them she absolutely loved their performance and sees some real, authentic potential; they're young, have a defined sound and a clear talent for writing their own music. Lucy hands them her card, asks for a phone number for reference and promises to call.

When Reggie confusedly asks what this means, Lucy offers them a small smirk.

"I'm going to set up a meeting with my boss. If he likes what he sees, maybe you guys will be signing some paperwork." At their obvious disbelief, she continues, "You guys will definitely be signing some paperwork."

The silence that follows is palpable, but understandable.

Luke hasn't been able to utter a single word since getting off stage, which is highly unusual for him. This news doesn't help his predicament. Reggie starts coughing violently when he chokes on his water, and Alex is nearly about to drop to the ground because what even is air anymore?

Lucy isn't really sure what reaction she would get, but she isn't expecting complete silence. This is rectified when three, fully-grown man-children launch themselves at her, thanking profusely; Reggie even goes so far to plant a sloppy kiss on her forehead.

"We are so sorry," Alex apologizes breathlessly, yanking Reggie back towards his side. "We've just been wait — this is really huge for us."

But Lucy is laughing, so they know they haven't totally ruined their opportunity before it's even begun. "It's alright, boys. This is exciting, I get it. I'll be in touch," she promises before leaving the way she came in.

It's only fitting that the boys can't find any words for a solid five minutes. How does one sum this up into words? Luke certainly can't; in fact, he's pretty certain his brain is short-circuiting because his mind is completely blank.

"What the actual hell?" Alex mutters, quite literally sitting down on the floor where he stood. "Did that just happen? Am I dreaming?"

In response, Reggie whacks Alex on the back of the head; the blonde whines in pain. "Not dreaming," Reggie replies positively. He turns to Luke, nodding, "Dude, you haven't said a word. You good?"

"I don't know what to say," Luke finally says. "This is fucking wild. I mean — I knew it was a possibility, I know this is what we were hoping for but, it's actually happening."

Alex shoots Luke a toothy grin, eyes involuntarily watering with happy tears. "It's finally happening," he repeats. He braces himself when Reggie suddenly launches himself onto him, then groans when Luke hops on as well, laughing heartily.

"It's finally happening!"

It's only when he's distracted, laughing with his brothers on what is quite possibly one of the best days of his life that he remembers just exactly who is currently outside. Untangling himself, he scrambles off the dog pile and nervously tries to fix his messy hair.

"Shit, I have to go."

Alex furrows his eyebrows. "What? Where?"

"We have to celebrate!" Reggie pouts, grunting when Alex pushes him off.

Luke is busy rummaging through all their belongings, looking for some breath mints or even gum. Alex peeks at his actions with curiosity. "What are you — Lucas Patterson! Who is the girl?"

"Shh!" Luke fires back. He isn't totally sure why he does, because it isn't like she can hear them, but it's automatic. "It's the flower shop girl, Julie. I saw her in the crowd."

Reggie shares an incredibly suggestive look with Alex, and Luke can't help but roll his eyes. He finally locates his emergency pack of breath mints and pops three into his mouth. "The tattoo artist? Oh, dude, get your ass out there."

"Good luck Luke! Don't mess it up!" Alex yells after him.

Luke slams the door shut behind him and chuckles; he really should get some new friends. But if things go as expected at this meeting, he'll be stuck with them for life.

He is keenly aware of the fact that Julie might not even be around anymore. It's more than probable, but Luke hopes luck is on his side tonight.

After all, he owes her somewhat of a thank you.

He was in a musical rut before she stormed into his flower shop and nearly bit his head off. He can't explain it, but their encounter sparked something within him and he found himself writing more lyrics than he could keep up with.

Plus, she seemed to recognize him when they made brief eye contact, so it couldn't be a bad idea, right?

(Tell that to his palms that are obsessively sweating as his bright eyes rake through the hoards of people looking for her.)

Luke finds her relatively quickly; she's perched a top of a stool directly in front of the bar. Even though he can only see her back, he recognizes the cascade of curls down her back.

Maybe luck is on his side.

It’s only when she turns her head to the side and her curls follow, that he notices the black outline of a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. It’s unbelievably simple and void of any colour, but Luke finds it suits her. Her arm reaches out as she playfully hits the shoulder of someone she’s with and Luke catches more of the ink on her skin. He spots the dahlia first, and her reaction at the flower shop when he thought they didn’t have any makes a lot more sense; it must have a deep meaning to her. The urge he feels to know everything and anything about her overwhelms him. He notices some more black ink colouring the entirety of her arm, though he can’t tell what they are from this far away.

He can’t even put into words how good it looks on her, and maybe that’s a little shallow of him to think, but he’s truly floored by her appearance.

He knew she was beautiful when he saw her that first time, but seeing this side of her, this personal side of her; she’s simply gorgeous and he can’t wait to tell her.

He takes a deep breath and fixes his shirt; it's old and ratty and ripped, but it hasn't failed him yet. He has absolutely no idea what he even plans on saying; he never has to think about it, it usually just comes to him.

Luke slides in next to her, flagging down the bartender immediately.

He really needs a drink.

“Rum and coke, please.”

The tone of his voice must render familiar because Julie pivots on her stool with curious eyes and a lazy smile.

“Well, if it isn’t flower shop boy.”

In another world, he might’ve been offended that the only memorable thing about him was that he worked in a flower shop (he would argue his devilishly good looks or sparkling eyes were absolutely unforgettable). But with one look at her tilted head and amused eyes, he's just glad she remembers him at all.

“In the flesh,” he replies, tongue pressed against his teeth to keep from smiling too excitedly. “Though I do think I proved myself on stage; rockstar is a much more badass nickname."

Julie’s eyes twinkle mischievously as she clicks her tongue before pulling the straw of her drink between her lips. Luke’s eyes immediately follow absentmindedly. “I don’t know,” she drawls with a hint of sarcasm, “I think flowers suit you somehow.”

He wouldn't normally associate himself with flowers.

He's all about ripped jeans and band tees; bottomless coffee pots and dark splashes of colour. Flowers don't normally come to mind, but for some reason, the thought that she does associate him with flowers brings a smile to his lip. Clearly flowers mean a lot to her, if the dahlia tattoo is anything to go by.

It also isn't the wildest thought; he does occasionally work in a flower shop, after all.

The bartender slides his drink across the counter and Luke digs into his back pocket for his wallet. His emerald eyes glance at Julie's nearly empty glass and he leans forward to ask for a refill before throwing a few bills onto the counter.

Julie's eyes glance at the new drink and she shoots a shy smile in his direction.

He doesn't know her very well, but from what he's seen, shy doesn't really seem to fit her.

"You're in a band."

It almost seems like a question, but it very obviously isn't. Luke still feels the need to reply.

"Yeah. We do alright," he replies, hiding a chuckle.

If there is one thing that Luke Patterson is one-hundred percent certain of is that Sunset Curve rocks. Record deal or not, he knows it and he'll never give it up.

However, it doesn't seem like he'll have to and the thought brings a smile to his lips.

"You guys are more than alright!" Julie's face brightens as she turns to speak more animatedly. "I have to be honest, I wasn't really for going out tonight, but I was pleasantly surprised."

"Pleasantly surprised because you saw a familiar face or —?"

Julie's head tilts again and his eyes absentmindedly trace her jaw. "Pleasantly surprised because you guys were good and I was having fun." As an afterthought, she smirks and adds, "Plus, the drummer was cute."

Luke's smile immediately drops and he returns his focus to his drink with a pout. "He's unavailable," he mutters grumpily.

But then she laughs and with one quick glance at her amused expression, it's clear she's only messing with him.

"I like your ink," he says with a nod. "Are they your designs?"

At the comment, Julie's eyebrows rise beneath her curls. "They are, yeah," she replies with a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Beverly told me you work at the tattoo parlour across the street," Luke explains with a shrug of his shoulders.

While Luke doesn't realize the gravity of his words, Julie is filled with a rush of excitement. Clearly, he's been talking about her or at least thinking about her. It's especially surprising considering how their first meeting actually went.

But the truth is, she's thought about him too.

It was hard not to, given his kind smile and friendly nature. Though she was stressed at the time, she couldn't help but think back afterwards. She was of the type to think about things constantly, even after it was all said and done. Awkward encounters, stupid things she's said, you name it.

So, nearly crying in front of a cute stranger definitely made the list.

"You talked about me?" Julie asks, revelling in the quick bloom of red that spreads across Luke's cheeks.

Though he's blushing, he seems completely at ease. "I actually asked about you," he admits, taking another large gulp of his glass. He senses the burn of the alcohol passing through his system. "I was curious."

Julie nods, stirring her glass with the black straw. "Not curious enough to stop by?"

This time, his eyebrows rose in surprise. "I would've stood out too much."

At this, Julie's dark eyes roam over Luke's bare arms, subtlety forgotten. She's surprised she even held out this long, given how loose his shirt is. The cutoff sleeves droop low on his sides and she has a decently clear view of his chest at the angle he's sitting. Her eyes automatically snap back up to his face where he's smirking through another sip from his glass.

His arms are still glistening with sweat, but they're bare of any ink.

"I mean, we can always change that," Julie suggests. She hasn't taken notice of how her body has absentmindedly leaned closer to him, but Luke has. If his racing pulse is anything to go by, he's definitely noticed.

Luke lets out a breathy chuckle, gaze dropping to appreciate the tattoos littering her caramel skin (don't even get him started on what her tattoos are doing to him). "Needles and I don't get along too well and I'm sure as hell not about to cry in front of you before we've even had a first date."

Julie's eyes widen at his forwardness and Luke's breath catches in his throat.

But only seconds later, a pleased smile spreads across Julie's mouth slowly and his gaze automatically drops.

"We can change that too."

Luke has mysteriously forgotten how to breathe, but luckily, Julie is making all the first moves. She pulls her phone out of her purse, unlocks it and brings up a new contact page. She hands him the phone with bright, hopeful eyes and he can only take the phone numbly because he's pretty sure his brain is starting to shutdown.

He doesn't ever freeze up. He doesn't panic when it comes to girls.

In any other scenario, he would had had her number minutes ago.

But this. This is different.

It feels odd for him not to be in control but he's weirdly okay with it? He can't explain it, but he'll sure as hell enjoy it.

Julie glances over her shoulder towards the door as Luke finishes up with her phone. He hands it back to her, expertly making sure their fingers brush as she takes it back (see? His game isn't completely gone).

"I have to go," Julie explains, and is that a breathy tone Luke detects? "My friends are waiting, but it was nice to see you again, Luke." Her eyes seem to go blank for a moment and she shakes her head. "Oh — my name is Julie, by the way. Julie Molina."

A grin blooms across his lips. He already knew her name, but he isn't trying to freak her out with that information. "It's nice to see you again, Julie."

Julie slides off her stool and tucks a few wayward curls behind her ear.

Luke knows he shouldn't, but his gaze roams over her figure. But she did oogle his biceps, so they were even, right?

"By the way," he mumbles and curses his mouth that moves faster than his brain. He's up and out of his seat before he notices. "This might be totally out of place for me to say, but I hope you're doing alright. You know — from that day and all."

He's wincing, preparing himself for when she tells him to go to hell or where he can shove his sentiments, but she surprises him. He shouldn't be surprised because she seems full of surprises, but he still is.

It had only been a week since the fifth anniversary of Rose's death but the wound is still just as fresh. She appreciated when he asked her if she was okay back then, and she appreciated it just as much now.

It's quite comical. She actively avoided her co-workers and friends just so they wouldn't ask her if she was okay, because clearly she wasn't. But she didn't mind a complete stranger asking her; in fact, she welcomed and appreciated it.

Obviously Luke wants to know what had her so upset that day. And it wasn't just that day; he can see the sadness that follows as soon as he mentions it now. It's clearly something she struggles with everyday and that kills him. He wants to know how he can help, how he can make it go away.

Hopefully, he'll get that chance one day, but for now, he's still waiting on that first date.

Julie's sad eyes sweep across his crestfallen features and she steps forward. Her delicate hand presses down on his shoulder to bring him closer and she gently presses her lips to the apple of his cheek. She lingers, because she can and even though he just played an entire set under hot, gleaming lights, he still smells amazing.

"I'm doing better, thank you," Julie murmurs, stepping back. Her eyes roam Luke's face; his blown pupils, lips parted in surprise. "I'll message you," she promises, taking a few steps back towards her friends who are staring very obviously.

She has all the power; he doesn't even have her number. But he's alright with it.

It was small and it felt like nothing, but hearing that she was doing better made his heart flutter.

Luke realizes with a start that she's waiting on a final reply from him before she turns around and joins her friends. So, he offers her a smile and watches in mild horror as his arm comes up through its own volition to grace her with a goofy wave.

But she merely laughs before turning back to her friends.

Luke decides he wants to hear that sound as often as possible.

All in all, his night turned out pretty successful. He can't wait to go tell his boys.

x

To say that Luke, Reggie and Alex weren't glued to Alex's phone for the entire next week would be the biggest lie of any of their lives.

Alex had given his number to producer Lucy Fields; she promised to call and now they were waiting hand and foot. They each know there's a chance she may not call at all and any opportunity they thought they got, disappears forever. But they were all choosing to be optimistic.

The anxiety is overwhelming.

Luke thought pre-gig was bad, but post-gig is so much worse.

He has to keep himself busy or he'll go insane. So, he focuses on his writing and offers to take a few more shifts at Beverly's.

And he has no ulterior motive to pick up some more shifts. None at all.

It isn't like he can hide it from Beverly anyway. Not when he has his nose pressed to the glass window every hour to stare at the tattoo parlour across the street.

"Good Lord," Beverly mutters after the fifth hour. "If you don't get over there within the next five minutes, I'm firing you."

Luke whips around to face her, hiding his laughter. "You wouldn't."

"Honey, watch me."

Luke chuckles, detaching himself from the window. He's being extra, he knows. But it's mostly because Beverly's sighs and reactions are priceless. He doesn't need to stare through a window to get a date; not when he's already gotten it.

"No need, Bev," he sasses, grabbing some window cleaner (it's the least he can do). "I'm going out with her later today."

Beverly's eyebrows rise so high, they disappear under her hair. She looks so surprised, Luke wants to laugh. "How did you manage that?"

"Saw her at my last gig," he shrugs, hiding a smile. "You know how charming I am, Bev, it was only a matter of time."

Beverly rolls her blue eyes. "Do you need to leave early to change into a date-worthy outfit?"

Luke glances down at his outfit; his signature black ripped jeans, a distressed white band t-shirt and his plaid jacket hanging across the counter. It's normal Luke attire so he isn't sure what brought on the question. "I was just going to wear this?"

Beverly stares at him for a moment before folding her lips to hide a smirk. "Well, you may as well show her what she's getting."

Clearly Beverly woke up today on attack mode.

Earlier this morning, Julie shot Luke a quick text message. They had been texting ever since the day after Luke's gig, but they were solely feeling each other out, and hadn't made any concrete plans. But it had been a week now, and Julie figured it was time.

Luke awoke to a simple text message from Julie, asking if he wanted to grab a coffee after she was done work. It was the best wakeup call, better than a splash of water across his face. He promised to meet her outside of work since he'd be helping out today too and now he was counting down the minutes.

Coffee was a good start.

It's simple, close to their comfort zones and who doesn't love coffee?

Luke still hasn't heard from Lucy so he's grateful for any distraction.

When the time came, he grabs his jacket, places a sloppy kiss on Beverly's cheek and crosses the street with a grin on his features. He leans against one of the light posts, waiting diligently.

When a man with jet black hair piled on top of his head exits, he hears him yell, "Night Jules! Don't forget to lock up!" He makes brief eye contact with Luke and he seems to recognize him from his gig the other night. He nods his head at Luke, glancing back at Julie before walking off.

Luke swears he watches him smirk before he walks away.

But then Julie exits the building and all focus is immediately on her and only her.

She's once again wearing that army green jacket from their first meeting and when she turns to face him, he realizes she's wearing a distressed denim black mini-skirt. She's also wearing a black crop-top and matching black converse. All he wants to think is if all tattoo artists have a black only dress code, but his brain is currently short-circuiting at all the soft skin he wasn't expecting to see.

It's only when he spots the tattoo located on her upper thigh that he realizes he might have to hold onto the light post for support.

"Hey!" Julie greets with the softest smile. She turns around again to lock the front door and Luke lets out an embarrassing puff of air. Get your shit together, Luke, he thinks to himself. "It's nice to see you again."

Julie debates for a moment if she should hug him but ultimately decides against it. He already seems a little pale, so she opts to nod her head in the direction of the coffee shop.

"How are you?" The words Luke has been chanting in his brain finally make it out past his lips, and he turns to gouge her reaction. His hands are stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans as they walk. The itch to hold her hand is strong but, not yet.

Julie nods her head, smiling. That's always a good sign. "It was a good week. Really busy." She eyes his covered arms. "You sure you don't want some ink?"

"Pretty sure we decided after the first date only."

Julie's intrigued eyes turn to him, amusement lighting them up. "Right. I think we did."

Luke stops to open the door to the coffee shop and waits for Julie to enter before he goes in after her. It's surprisingly not busy, considering the usual post-work buzz, but he likes it better like this. It's a full service shop and by the time Luke and Julie take a seat and pull off their jackets, a friendly waitress is already waiting to take their order.

His gaze is automatically drawn to her displayed tattoos and he nearly forgets to relay his order to the waitress.

"Hey, so, before we get into the first date small talk, I just want to be completely transparent with you."

Luke's smile dims just a smidge. It isn't the greatest way to start a conversation, but he's obviously going to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"That day we first met," Julie takes a full breath, actively avoiding eye contact. She doesn't have to tell him this, but she feels as if he deserves to know. "It wasn't my finest hour. I don't normally snap at employees who are just doing their job, I promise."

Luke nods in accordance.

"That day happened to be the fifth anniversary of the death of my mom."

All the colour from Luke's face drains. He planned to let her finish speaking before he said anything, but he just had to jump in with an, "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," Julie replies with a sad smile. "I've never been good at dealing with that day and I haven't been able to visit her grave properly ever since but my family was hounding me to visit, and she loves dahlias —" Julie's eyes glaze over, so caught up in her own thoughts. "She loved dahlias and I always try to keep some in the house. Beverly helps with that. I just wanted you to know it was an off-day for me, but I do have some baggage I don't totally know how to handle and I think it's fair you know that before you get overly invested."

Oh, but he already is.

Instead of saying something right away, Luke places his hand on the table, palm up. An invitation if she wants it.

"You didn't have to tell me any of that, but I appreciate it," Luke says softly. His pulse quickens when she intertwines their fingers together. "That's not enough to scare me off. If you don't want to move this forward, that's okay, I understand. But it won't be on my account."

Julie solely stares at their intertwined hands before a smile breaks out onto her features.

As if on cue, their waitress appears with their drinks and they begrudgingly let go of each other.

Now that the hard stuff was out in the open, conversation flows comfortably. Julie is having the time of her life, nearly laughing at every other word that comes out of Luke's mouth. He revels in it; making her laugh is the highlight of his days.

Over an hour passes by and they hardly even notice. They're too busy engrossed in each other. Eventually they decide to take a walk; the conversation is too good to stop, but sitting was becoming exhausting.

It's only when Luke's phone buzzes in his pocket that he realizes how much time has passed. He doesn't reach for his phone because that's rude, but it continues to vibrate incessantly and he has no choice.

He quickly apologizes to Julie, who waves him off.

Luke pulls off to the side and Julie busies herself with checking her own phone. The many vibrations are coming from their Sunset Curve group chat, namely from Alex. Luke's heartbeat picks up before he even opens the messages. His eyes scan the screen quickly. Alex's messages are nearly incoherent, a jumble of words and random letters but Luke quickly understands.

ADFAGDJFSHFNG SFFSVVBAAKG

THEY GOOGLEBS US

WE SIGNGG CONTRATS TOMORROWS

They googled us.

We sign a contract tomorrow.

Luke doesn't mean to stop breathing, but he does. He only dials back into planet Earth when Julie gently touches a hand to his arm. "Luke? Are you okay?" She pulls him closer to the wall.

"I —" He doesn't even know how to explain it. His jaw can't seem to close. "We, um  — we met with a producer after our gig. She said she was going to talk to her boss and then call us."

Julie's face immediately lights up.

"That was Alex," Luke continues numbly. "They said they googled us. They want us to sign a contract tomorrow."

Julie's jaw drops in solidarity. "A contract? Like a record deal?"

Luke's neck snaps up to look at her, a smile breaking out over his features.

Holy fucking shit, it's really happening.

"Luke! Congratulations!" Julie immediately launches herself into his arms, boundaries be damned. Luke doesn't mind a single bit, arching his back to lift her off her feet.

He's so happy; he throws all caution out to the wind.

"I've wanted to kiss you since I saw you in the crowd of my show."

Julie's arms lower and her lips split in shock.

The hesitation in her eyes only lasts for a moment.

"I think I have too."

It's all the acknowledgment he needs before he sneaks a hand to cradle her cheek. The sun is slowly setting, but the rays are hitting her cheeks just right. Her dark eyes drop to his lips before they fan closed across her cheeks. Luke sucks in a deep breath, then gently presses his lips against hers, slotting his lips perfectly in between.

It's short, simple, sweet and chaste.

Luke isn't trying to overdo it on their first date. He wasn't even planning on kissing her today, to be perfectly honest. But inspiration and opportunity struck, and he couldn't help himself.

He's pleasantly surprised when Julie secures his head with both hands and surges forward to capture his lips once again. This kiss is nothing like the first; Julie is completely in control, and when her tongue slips into his mouth, chaste isn't really the word he'd use to describe it.

His eyes are easily hooded when she pulls away with a smirk.

And she believed he wasn't invested yet?

"Thought you deserved a proper congratulations. It's not everyday you score a record deal."

Luke swallows harshly, hand crawling into the hair on the back of his head. "Appreciate that," he coughs out.

God, he really needs to learn to be much smoother around her.

As much as Julie enjoys his company and would like to spend even more time with him, this is a special moment for him and it wasn't her he should be with.

Julie lets her hand slide down his arm, squeezing his wrist gently. "I had fun today. But I think you should go be with your band."

An excited grin spreads across his face as he leans down and presses a sloppy kiss to her cheek; Julie can only giggle. "Thank you!" He excitedly taps her nose before starting to run away. He turns momentarily and shouts, "I'll call you!" Then he runs off, leaving Julie laughing.

x

Julie doesn't expect one of the worst days of her life to lead to the best.

But it does.

Luke is infectious. He invades her life so easily and he fits, regardless of the differences.

He understands her baggage and he gives her the time and space necessary to heal. She learns his triggers and recognizes when he needs her and when he needs space. They're respectful of each other's boundaries and it's what makes their relationship work.

Luke surprises her every day.

Sometimes he'll crawl into bed late at night, when Julie has already snoozed off from a long day at work. He'll do his best not to wake her but he misses her all day and can't wait to tell her he wrote a new song. About her. Because all his songs are about her.

When he finds himself in a writing mood, Julie will sit next to him, binging the latest tv show or playing BuzzFeed quizzes on her phone. It doesn't matter what she does, he just needs her there next to him as his inspiration. Sometimes her presence is a distraction more than anything and he'll throw his songbook to the side, pressing his lips to her neck as she loses herself in a fit of giggles.

She's there when their first album is officially released. She's there at their first official show under the new label. She's always cheering him on backstage, his good luck charm.

When they go on their first official tour, she can't attend because she can't leave her work for that long (not that he would want her to anyway, he understands how much she loves her job). It's the first time they're apart for that long, and it hurts but they're mature about it. Instead, they fill the time with late-night phone calls and FaceTime sessions. When he surprises her at home a day early, she nearly throws the bowl she wiping down at his face, then hurriedly jumps into his awaiting arms.

And it isn't often, but sometimes they fight. They're both especially opinionated and like to get in the last word. When it comes to each other, it can sometimes get heated and often they may say something they don't actually mean. Julie loves to sneak out onto the balcony after a fight; the breeze helps her cool down and look at things with more clarity. Luke can't stand the thought of Julie being angry with him, so it never took long before he followed her out onto the balcony. She would quickly crawl into his inviting lap, they would apologize to each other and talk about things more rationally. Sometimes, all it took was the cold breeze and Luke's soft lips against Julie's temple to calm them down.

It's the relationship they've both always dreamed about but never thought they could actually have.

Sure, Luke's fame sometimes comes with a price, but their love for each other trumps everything else.

He eventually allows Julie to ink his skin like she's expressed so many times she would love to do. He gets a matching Sunset Curve tattoo on his bicep with Alex and Reggie; it's simple, just their logo. He trusts Julie and only Julie to do it; he doesn't need anyone witnessing his pain and she's already too far gone to leave him solely because he nearly passes out from a tattoo.

(She also distracts him with soft kisses and no one else could do that.)

When he walks by a jewellery store one day and the pull is too strong to ignore, he knows with one-hundred percent certainty that this is the path he wants to take.

And when he drops to one knee at the most inconvenient of times because she found the velvet box hidden at the bottom of his sock drawer, his plans for a fancy proposal escape his mind immediately. Her hands fly to cover the gasp escaping her mouth, eyes clouding with tears.

Her answer is yes, always yes.

And every year when the anniversary of Rose's death comes around, Luke looks to Julie for guidance on what she needs. It takes time and strength, but with Luke's help, she's able to visit her mother's grave, drop off some dahlias and tell Luke all about the goddess that used to be her mother.

He often wishes he got the chance to meet her because he knows he would have loved her. Every time he visits Rose's grave, he silently promises to love and honour her daughter for as long as he lives. He hopes that's enough to help her soul continue to rest in peace.

At every visit, Julie would wrap her arm around Luke's and lean her head against his shoulder.

He never realizes it originally, but Julie believes her mom is responsible for their meeting, and she makes sure to thank her every visit.

"Thank you, mom," she murmurs quietly. "Thank you for bringing Luke to me."

[satuguro]

tenshi | pt. 2

IN WHICH: tsukishima can’t let go and your sadness turns into anger.

PAIRING: tsukishima kei x ukai!reader, kageyama tobio x ukai!reader

INSPIRED BY: freckles — kevin atwater, hikare are (moonlight) — burnout syndromes

WARNING: angst, cursing

A/N: sorry for taking so long to update! i’ve been having really bad writer’s block :,)

prologue, pt. 1, pt. 2

tsukishima wasn’t sure when it happened.

he always had a gut feeling that he had always felt that way when he looked at you. the feeling of caring so much for one person terrified him. he had never felt like that before— it was new and unexpected.

tsukishima didn’t like new and unexpected. he wasn’t like you, who practically craved the outside world that it was almost annoying.

he had spent countless nights trying to figure out when he realized he loved you.

was it when you gave him a box of dinosaur bandaids that you had stolen from your dad’s store? you given it to him with a smile and a short, “it reminded me of you.”

was it when you let him pick the movie for movie night, but instead of him picking jurassic park, you picked it? “you always pick jurassic park, and you always pick the first one because it’s your favorite,” you had stated with a nonchalant shrug.

or was it when you told him you were leaving? when you muttered out your mom’s plans and tsukishima’s blood ran cold because no, this wasn’t some sick joke. you were leaving and never coming back.

you had told him you were leaving, and all he did was walk away.

“i’ll walk home with the guys tonight!” you sent your dad a bright grin, one he only huffed at as he reluctantly handed the keys to kageyama.

“be safe,” he said sternly. his words would’ve almost come off as cold if you didn’t know your dad well. he was worried, that was all. as he made his way to the door, he paused, not looking over his shoulder as he said, “if you all don’t leave soon y/n won’t treat you to meat buns.” immediately, ukai shut the door behind him.

instantaneously, hinata bound over to you, his arms going up as he jumped around you over and over. you could never get used to the sudden height he gained “y/n teach me more about what you know you never got to—!”

hinata’s loud screaming was interrupted by a volleyball that hit his head.

kageyama, who was practically fuming as he stood behind the middle blocker, barked, “do you want meat buns or not? help us clean, dumbass!”

as the freak duo continued to bicker as they cleaned up, you nudged yachi softly as you watched on in amusement. “it’s good that they haven’t changed,” you commented, and she smiled widely.

“oh yeah, they’re still exactly as before. they just learned more, i guess,” yachi laughed. in front of you, yamaguchi tried to calm the two down, his freckled cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. tsukishima only loomed over them with an unimpressed look on his face. “same thing goes for yama. tsukishima, though...”

“i expected it,” you cut her off, words coming out more forced than you would’ve liked. without missing a beat, you smiled. you didn’t want to tell her that tsukishima was the last thing you wanted to hear about. “we should help out. knowing by dad, he’ll probably purposely close the store if we’re late.”

“they have the best meat buns, trust me!”

akiteru’s cheerful voice made kei let out a disgruntled grunt.

ever since he found out that his brother and his position as an oh-so-great ace, akiteru had ben doing everything to make it up for him. tsukishima’s frown deepened as he reluctantly walked into the store, his eyes set on his sneakers as he slowly followed his brother.

he lied. no amount of meat buns was going to change that fact.

“ukai! two of your best meat buns, please!” akiteru’s grin faltered for a moment as he turned back to kei, but that didn’t change his spirits as he turned to the cashier.

you sat behind the cash register, your fingers reaching up to your mouth and pulling out the red lollipop you were sucking on. it was obvious that you were kei’s age, yet you acted like you owned the shop (and maybe you did).

“my dad says i’m not allowed to get meat from the dish because it’s too hot and i’ll die,” you said pointedly, leaning forward in your plastic chair. you looked at kei with a curious tilt of your head, and kei only stared back.

your hair was pulled back with a thin headband, and he recognized the logo on your beige sweatshirt; a volleyball sweatshirt.

“i didn’t know you had a lil’ brother,” you said with a tilted grin, eyes switching between kei and akiteru. in response, akiteru ruffled kei’s hair, making the boy scowl and try to slap his hand away. you giggled in amusement. “he’s grumpy.”

kei gave you a nasty look. “am not.”

your beaming smile didn’t falter at the glare he gave you. you were perfectly unfazed by it, and to kei’s surprise, you only laughed more. “you’re funny.”

kei’s face bloomed a slight shade of red.

“s’bout time. i was about to close,” your dad sighed as he handed you the packs of meat buns.

you knew that was a lie. he always liked night shifts at the shop.

“even if you did close the shop, i’d feed them,” you hummed, looking behind you. your friends were outside, all standing in front of the glass door of the shop. yachi was laughing with hinata while kageyama sipped his milk peacefully. farther away from them was yamaguchi and tsukishima; the green haired boy was trying to speak to the other, but the blonde was too busy on his phone.

“whatever,” keishin managed a small smile as you turned back to him. “don’t stay out too late.”

“i won’t. thanks, dad.” you gave him a short side hug before you made tour way back outside, blind to the growing smile on your father’s face.

“oh my god, i love you!” hinata took the pack from you and began eating it almost immediately. you scrunched your nose as you saw part of the wrapper disappear in his mouth.

“hinata you ate like half of the paper—!” yachi yelled in panic, her hand smacking hinata’s back as she tried to get him to spit it out.

you turned to kageyama, handing him his meat bun with a close lipped smile. he squished his milk carton with one hand, his free one taking the meat bun from you. “... thank you,” he managed a smile, and you laughed.

it wasn’t as scary as his smile before you left. then again, you never really minded his smile.

you walked over to yamaguchi and tsukishima, both of whom were talking intently between themselves.

“you can’t keep this up— y/n!” yamaguchi’s freckled fave bloomed red as he forced a smile, his expression immediately changing. wordlessly, you handed the meat bun pack to him.

“what’re you guys talking about?” you found yourself asking, eyes daring to meet tsukishima’s for a second before meeting yamaguchi’s once again.

“none of your business, ukai,” tsukishima answered before yamaguchi could. you stiffened at the use of your last name; he never used it before.

“tsukki!” yamaguchi scolded, but you only smiled.

god, tsukishima hated it when you smiled. he hated how his glare, which was supposed to be nasty and full of hatred, would falter at the sight of it.

“it’s whatever,” you shrugged, playing off your feelings, “enjoy, you guys.”

┈┈ 𑁍༅ཾ༚ ┈┈

of course he was the last to leave.

you wanted to curse whatever god was in the skies that made him the last one to leave. the awkwardness hung in the air, and you could’ve easily just chosen to go inside the shop and he could’ve just gone home, but you were both frozen in your spots.

you two were sitting on the curb, making sure that there was a distance between you both. the only light was the flickering street lights and the dim lights of your shop behind you both.

you both could’ve just left. so why didn’t you?

“we haven’t—“

“shut up.”

your mouth shut and your gaze returned to your feet.

why wasn’t he leaving? why weren’t you leaving?

how could he still be so mean? this is kei, but still.

your confusion slowly turned to anger as your fists clenched harder and harder, before you snapped your head towards kei and finally let it out.

“what the hell is your problem?”

to your surprise (and anger), he only shook his head, letting out an incredulous laugh.

“really, ukai? you have no idea?” kei didn’t even look at you as he chuckled, his glasses nearly slipping off his face. “you’re as dumb as you look.”

“i’m not a fucking mind reader, kei,” you seethed in response, your eyes never once leaving his form. all the sadness that he once been caused by him turned into pure rage; his blunt words didn’t help. “so tell me. what is your problem?”

“fuck off,” kei snapped, standing up from his seat and shoving his hands in his pockets. he began to walk away without another word.

“no, tell me.” you stood up after him, your tenacity getting the beat of you as you followed him. “kei—“

“i told you to stop calling me that!” kei turned to you, meeting your eyes for what fet like the first time in forever. he was angry, that much you knew. his brows were knitted together as he looked at you, and his eyes held nothing good behind them. yet, despite all of this, you stepped closer. “leave me alone, ukai.”

“i just—“

“what, you want it to be like old times? you want me to accept you with open arms and a big fucking smile?” kei took a stop closer to you. he saw the way your lip was quivering and how you hid it by pulling it between your teeth. his haze was stone cold, and no matter how much he wanted to say, “i’m sorry for being such an ass,” he did nothing. kei was driven by the hurt you caused him before you left and the pain he went through by keeping his own words to himself. you left.

“leave me alone, ukai. i mean it.”

the first time you argued with tsukishima kei was when you were in middle school.

you had accidentally stepped on his favorite dinosaur figurine when you were dropping off his notebook at his house. in an immature fit of rage, kei told you to get out while he desperately tried to fix it.

his brother gave him that figurine before he left for college. of course it meant a lot to him.

you had come back to next day with a dinosaur plushie that you had bought with all your chore money. you had messily embroidered a small moon on the stuffed t-rex’s chest, and you had shoved it to his chest when he opened the door.

you didn’t like accepting defeat, but this was an exception. “i’m sorry, please accept this as a token of my affection.”

kei remembered that he had responded with a judgmental raise of his brow, but you had cut him off before he could make fun of you.

“i spent all night making that damn moon. accept it or die, kei.”

he walked away again.

you only stood in place, your eyes watching his form leave as you clenched and unclenched your hands. you wanted to scream. you wanted to find a punching bag and punch the living daylights out of it, but all you did was watch him go.

“y/n?”

you tensed up at the voice, and you turned around towards the voice. tobio kageyama stood right behind you, his hand reaching down for the pack of pencils he seemingly forgot before he left. knowing him, that was probably all the pencils he had.

“you’re crying,” the setter said dumbly, standing up at full height as he looked at you with a concerned frown. what else was he supposed to say?

you managed a laugh as you aggressively wiped your tears away. god, you hated crying. “no shit, genius.”

kageyama stepped closer to you as you continued to wipe your eyes. you laughed tearfully once again.

“i don’t even know why i’m crying,” you felt more tears flow down your cheeks as you hurried to wipe them away again. once again, you laughed. “it just keeps coming.”

quietly, kageyama pulled you closer to him, his arms holding you close as you continued to softly cry. your words of, “the tears won’t stop. why isn’t it stopping?” were muffled as you cried into his sweatshirt.

┈┈ 𑁍༅ཾ༚ ┈┈

A/N: again, sorry for the late update! writer’s block sucks ass :(

TAGLIST: @grapesauze , @neijiwave , @whothefuckstolemykeds , @sugakuns , @lexysclubhouse , @bakibakini , @animeanxiety , @kodzu-ken , @ukhyeonn , @sana-li , @differentballooncollection , @thechaosoflonging , @scrappydaisies , @nnessworls , @emogril , @killuaking , @vinnieluv , @kageyamas-whore , @helloshoutohere

prologue, pt. 1, pt. 2

[sunsetcurveofficial]

jatp fics by yours truly

[so, since i’ve written quite a few jatp fics in my time now, i decided that it’s time for a little masterpost before i post something new. sorted the way they appear in my ao3 stats.]

Force of Nature [Luke/Reggie, 49k, T, famous!AU]

Luke meets Reggie in a toilet stall at an award show when he's just trying to hide from everyone. He's the frontman of famous pop punk band Sunset Curve, and Reggie is an international country star. Something shifts in his life when he asks Reggie to sneak out of the award show together to attend an underground punk rock gig instead. Luke doesn't believe in love at first sight, but Reggie sure as hell makes him question everything he's ever believed in before.

A Change of Scenery [Luke/Reggie, 32k, M, camping AU]

“Oh! Apparently, there are 36 questions that are designed to make anyone fall in love with anyone,” Reggie says, eyes wandering over the page. “That sounds easy.” Luke peers at the article and snorts. “Yeah, right. You mean to tell me that if I do these with Bobby’s dad, I will fall in love with him? Sounds likely.” Reggie shrugs, a grin tugging at his lips when he meets Luke’s eyes. “We could try it. Scared to actually fall in love with me, Patterson?”

or, Luke takes Reggie on a camping trip to the woods in an attempt to cure his writer's block and gets a little more than he bargained for.

Not That Straight [Luke/Reggie, 4.8k, T, post canon]

“Am I the only straight person in this group?” Three heads immediately turned towards Reggie, and three pairs of eyebrows were raised at him at the same time. Alright. They didn’t have to make it quite so obvious that he was the odd one out, right? “You sure, Reg?” Alex asked with a fair amount of disbelief in his voice. Luke snorted. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, bro. You aren’t that straight.”

Keep Dreaming Like We'll Live Forever [Luke/Reggie, 10k, T, post canon]

A few weeks before the Orpheum, Luke wrote a list of things he wanted to do before he turned 20. Obviously he never got that far, but the list is still there, crammed into his notebook. Death didn’t make him quite as dead as he expected, though, so maybe there is still a chance to do all the things he missed out on when he was alive.

(Part 1 of the Bucket List series)

One Life, No Regrets [Luke/Reggie, 12k, T, post canon]

After crossing almost everything off his bucket list of things he wanted to do before he turned 20, Luke tackles the second list he wrote a few weeks before the Orpheum: Things he originally wanted to do before he turned 30. Life after death still has more in store for him than he ever expected, including some valuable lessons about love and happiness, and about pain and heartache.

(Part 2 of the Bucket List series)

Sometimes Two Is Better Than One [Alex/Reggie/Luke, 2.1k, poly soulmates AU]

It’s weird, this soulmates thing. Alex has always thought so. People are born with random sentences scribbled onto their skin, and they’re supposed to be the first words their soulmate ever says to them. Generally speaking, he does think that the soulmarks make sense, too. For most people. His, however, has never made any sense at all.

Because his soulmark says "Hi, I’m Reggie. Reggie says you’re killing it on the drums, man."

Alex And His Rose Bush Boys [Alex/Reggie/Luke, 6.6k, poly pre-canon AU]

Five times Alex has to watch his two drunk and supposedly straight best friends make out with each other, and one time he finally gets to join.

Or, Luke and Reggie are completely oblivious and Alex has a lot of feelings.

Two Can Play This Game [Luke/Reggie, 5.9k, pre-canon AU]

Luke Patterson is a menace. He’s stubborn and persistent, and when he wants something, he stops at nothing to get it. And that includes flirting with Reggie to make him go to a punk rock gig in downtown LA with him. Luke is so sure he's going to win, but two can play his game. Reggie won’t just let him have it, and he will most certainly not go down without a fight.

For the prompt: “Stop flirting with me, I’m not going to fall for it.”

In Heaven I Can Skate [Alex/Willie, Luke/Reggie, 3k, post-canon AU]

The boys get drunk on liquor that Willie smuggled out of Caleb's cursed club, and Alex decides that it's the perfect time for Willie to teach him how to skateboard.

Meanwhile, Reggie feels a little impulsive.

Booksmart [Luke/Reggie, 1.5k, post-canon AU]

“This says that one in four people are gay,” Reggie reads out loud. “That means at least one person in this band is gay. I hope it’s Luke. Because Luke is cute.” Alex looks like he's about to have an aneurysm. “Dude. I’m literally right here. I’m the gay one.” Julie giggles. “Honey, I hate to break it to you, but I have a feeling he’s not the only one who’s a little gay in this band.”

Better Think With Your Mouth [Luke/Reggie, 2.3k, pre-canon AU]

“You kissed me!” Reggie shrieks, spluttering as he drops the guitar pick he’s been holding onto for the entirety of his rant. Luke merely chuckles and goes right back to strumming idly on his acoustic guitar. “Luke!” Reggie tries again, staring at his friend like he’s lost his mind. Luke must have lost his mind, right?

or, Reggie keeps going on extensive rants, and Luke starts kissing him to shut him up.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang [Luke/Reggie, 2.2k, post-canon AU]

It's New Year's Eve and Reggie just wants a kiss.

Bed Head [Luke/Reggie, 2.3k, pre-canon AU]

Here’s the thing. Reggie loves Luke’s messy hair. He would never admit it, of course, but the messier Luke’s hair, the more he enjoys watching him.

For the prompt: "Your bed head is really cute."

Post-it Notes [Luke/Reggie, 1.3k, pre-canon AU]

Reggie cleans Luke's room and leaves small notes on his things that make them both rethink just how platonic their feelings for each other really are.

For the prompt: “Don’t be sorry… it was kind of cute, actually.”

Loving Luke Patterson [Julie/Luke, Luke/Reggie, 7.2k, post-canon AU]

Julie and Reggie talk one afternoon and end up realising they're both in love with Luke. So, naturally, they become best friends. And Luke? Well, falling in love with people is just what Luke Patterson does, apparently.

Every Storm That Comes [Luke/Reggie, 5k, post-canon AU]

"Luke wants to be with Julie, because she’s awesome. Because she’s more than good enough. It doesn’t even matter that he’s a ghost and Julie isn’t. He wants to be with her anyway. He’d never want to be with someone like Reggie."

Or, Reggie has some mental health issues to work through, and his feelings for Luke don't really help. He learns that there is so much more love in his life than he ever realised, though, and that every storm has a tendency to come to an end eventually.

Through The Ages [Luke/Reggie, 4.2k, post-canon AU]

“So Luke, huh?” Alex asks, a small smile pulling at his lips. Reggie just grunts in agreement. “You know, I couldn’t stop him from confronting Julie about the song, but it‘s only a matter of minutes until she tells him that she didn’t write it.” “It doesn’t matter now,” Reggie says quietly. “He didn’t even stop to consider that it’s mine. He just thinks I’m a loser who writes bad country songs.”

or, After a few failed attempts at telling Luke how he feels about him, Reggie decides to write Luke a song instead. He sneaks it into Luke's journal, excitedly waiting for his best friend to find it. But when Luke finally does, he assumes Julie wrote it.