#also he was immediately after the worst customer i had today and maybe ever so his kindness was even more appreciated

[dyingnights]

oh oh i had a bunch of really asshole customers today but also a couple of really nice ones and there was one guy. who was just as confused as i am and it was so funny and he was so nice and so sweet and also immediately used the informal word of 'you' which i always enjoy

[the-apprentice-lia]

hi, i'm in love with u. seriously, you got some real talent! also, i'm here to make a request, excuse me~~ can you write the main 6 and the mc in some sort of a date..? let's say it's their day, maybe it's been a year since they're together and the main 6 prepared a special day to the mc, plsss? thanks 🖤

hiii!! wait come back, i love you too!! thank you so much, i’m so glad you enjoy my writing!☺️ i’m honestly relieved at this headcanon since i’ve been writing so much angst so thank you! i don’t think i’d have been able to write a piece that would break my heart again!!

the main 6 on their one year anniversary with mc

asra

• let’s clear something up really quickly: asra’s the most romantic person you’ll ever meet. aside from maybe nadia. but this ain’t about her (for now). they’re 100% the type to leave you roses lying around the house with sweet little love notes, compose you magical poetry that makes the entire room smell of ambrosia and only unfurls when you’ve had a terrible day, and drop kisses to any part of you they’re able to reach during the day. so, for your one year anniversary? oh, get ready.

• i can see asra actually asking one of the arcana for the temporary use of their realm, (bonus if he says they’re free to use the magic shop while you two are on your date, and double bonus if a wandering customer who doesn’t take note of the ‘we’re closed’ sign is met with cunning, tapered amaranthine eyes, and a sly, vulpine smile.) and using his magic to enhance the familiar setting even more. he’s probably spent months planning this, ensuring everything’s absolutely perfect on the recurrence of day he first pledged his love to you.

• asra’s not there next to you when you awaken, so you call for him as soft morning sunlight filters through the window, falling across your empty bed and your summons echo through the deserted store. he’s obviously closed it for the day since you’ve slept in, and as you stumble towards the kitchen, you stop as you notice the new outfit laid carefully out on your shared desk, with a note lying beside it.

• “follow me to where you first met me through the palace fountains.” you take in the painstakingly-calligraphied note with a soft smile. asra’s hand-writing is… questionable at best, and barely-legible scribbles at worst, and this note has the prettiest handwriting you’ve seen. the little ‘I’ at the bottom of the note tells you where you need to go, and you grin as you rush to get ready.

• as you pay more attention to the outfit, a soft smile crosses your face. the beautifully put-together ensemble (asra has impeccable fashion sense, fight me) is in your favourite colour, and you sprint to the bath-chamber just so you can put it on sooner. when you finally emerge, you meet your own eyes in the mirror with a beam. it fits you delightfully, outlining the shape of your body and falling perfectly, the fabric looking as if it’s made just for you. you give a little twirl in the mirror with a raw burst of laughter; you not only look and feel beautiful, this is asra’s gift to you and you couldn’t be happier in it.

• finally finished, you follow the trail of magic asra’s left— a shimmering, iris-purple trail that’s obviously reflective of his aura— to where a final gift waits for you, with a carefully-scrolled note left behind it. “open me when you’ve found our spot,” it reads, and you grin at asra’s layers of planning. it means so much to you that he cares about you so much, truly.

• you let your eyes flutter shut, attuning yourself only to the unique aura of the magician’s realm. you know the world is slowly falling away around you, and as you open your eyes again, asra stands before you with the biggest smile on his face. his eyes are twinkling and you know, in that moment, that you’d follow your lover to the ends of the earth.

• it’s the lake where you first entered the magician’s realm to visit asra. painted in the fiery-amber hues of an eternal sunset, the amaranthine sky stretches and ripples before you endlessly, fish jumping between the reeds. they sway gently in the breeze and stretch away from the marigolden reflection of the sun-setting sky on the lake, bleeding in an amethyst kaleidoscope into an electric blue that you long to slip your fingers through. it almost looks as if it would feel like silk.

• “mc, you’ve found me!” comes his teasing voice as he sweeps you up in his arms. he kisses you deeply, before stepping aside to let you take in the picnic he’s set up near the water’s edge. well, picnic in the most basic sense of the word, you think as you look in wonder around you. asra’s set up a beautiful array of coloured blankets, fairy lights hovering in the air all around you. he’s enchanted the glowing orbs to revolve slowly around the two of you, and you find yourself falling even more deeply in love with the beautiful person in front of you.

• after the magical evening in the magician’s realm, you give your fellow arcana his domain back as asra’s hand in yours pulls you through the fabric of the realms and you’re standing back in your shop.

• when you waken in the morning, after your (practically non-existent;) lovely sleep, you find it’s long past the time that the two of you usually decide to open the store. again, asra’s broken duties (which in and of itself is a great feat?!) simply to spend time with the love of their life. you show your appreciation with extra cuddles that he accepts with a sleepy smile, his warm and utterly contented aura mingling with yours and making your morning even better.

nadia

• okay she’s probably tied with asra in the romance department. she just can’t help it! gifts have always been her love-language, even when, only known as the youngest satrinava princess, the only meaningful gifts she used to be able to give were the gifts she made herself— intricate devices, levers and pulleys in the latest fashion that wax and wane with the sun so that your plants never want for any light— you name it, she could have, and probably had before, made it. so, when she was young, since she was so insecure and unsure of herself, gifts were the only way she was ever able to show affection.

• now, of course, she’ll move you close to her wherever you are with a gentle hand around your waist, press little kisses to your cheeks or forehead, pull you to her and press a soft kiss to your lips— no, your beloved never fails to show you just how much you mean to her, just how much she loves you. however… she does love to see the berry-red blush spread across your face at her lavish gifts, the small, adorable “thank you, nadi,” she’s certain to get. she also absolutely lives for doesn’t mind the thank you hugs.

• and so, the first thing you see as you awaken on your one-year anniversary, is an actual mountain of presents. and this is not an exaggeration. no, this is… as large a pile of gifts as you’ve ever seen, sitting in the corner of your shared chambers together. your mouth hangs slightly open as you take in the sheer volume of presents she’s got you. you had been sure of your gift (singular!!) to her, but looking around you… doubt slips into your mind. you shake it off, calling into your chambers.

• “uh… nadi?” your voice echoes through the empty space as you ruffle your hair with your fingers, swinging your legs out of bed and onto… is that a path of rose petals?? and not even just scattered, an entire, beautifully arranged path of (somehow) amaranthine rose-petals. it’s so soft, and you can’t help laughing in incredulous delight as you savour the silken feel of the path beneath your feet. of course, you follow it. you’d hate for all her obviously meticulous planning to go to waste— no, you’re going to make sure this day goes exactly to plan! you step across the gossamer-soft, sweet-smelling path laid out for you as you approach nadia’s divan next to her paper folding-doors that she usually changes behind. you exhale softly as you take in the breathtaking outfit in front of you, squealing with delight as you sweep it up in your arms and twirl behind the doors.

• when you’ve changed and fixed your hair, (if it’s to your liking ordinarily, she’s even matched accessories for you!) you step out from behind the doors only to be swept towards a dressing-table by one of nadia’s attendants. they’re finished quickly, and as they leave you go to look in the mirror, and stop in your tracks. that’s… you? the person staring back at you is quite unfamiliar. you stare with no small measure of disbelief at smooth, rosy-apple cheeks underneath star-filled eyes, and soft, blushing lips, hanging open.

• if gowns are more to your liking, the one nadia’s chosen for you is absolutely stunning, even more so on your figure. it looks as if it was made for you! in your favourite colour, the hue that undoubtedly looks best on you, it fits at your waist and flairs out prettily, billowing around your ankles as you turn this way and that. the fabric falls off you perfectly, nadia would have spared absolutely no expense, and the shoes she’s picked out accentuate your great beauty even further. whatever your chosen outfit, however, nadia ensures that you look absolutely breathtaking in it.

• once you’re finished, you follow the trail of rose petals through your chamber doors, taking your little gift with you. anyone who sees you on your way absolutely stops in their tracks. anyone who sees you? immediately in love with you. gay or straight, doesn’t matter— they’re absolutely besotted with you now!! you note the lack of servants with a faint smile— nadia’s had most of the palace staff dismissed for the day, a skeleton-crew keeping the palace running on minimal functions for the day. today is your day. it belongs only to the two of you, and she won’t have her duties as countess interfering.

• when the trail finally ends, at the entrance to the palace gardens, you bend ever so slightly (someone cranes their neck at this and gets a little slap upside the head from a mildly irritated portia. don’t interrupt her! she’s fangirling so. hard. all her ship dreams are finally coming true!!) and pick up the parchment note nadia’s carefully scrolled. when you pick it up, it immediately unfurls in your hands to reveal the most elegant calligraphy you’ve ever seen. if you think nadia’s writing (when she isn’t planning or inventing, that is) isn’t the most lovely handwriting you’ve ever seen, you’re wrong. “come and find me,” reads the elegantly curving script in nadia’s hand. even simply reading it, you can almost hear the teasing, lilting air to her voice she would have had as she’d read the note out, and you set out with a warm smile to go and find your love.

• you think you know exactly where to find her, you think with a small smile to yourself. you’re quite enjoying yourself, playing nadia’s game. you could never hope to beat her at any game of wit, but you’d lose to her again and again if it meant having her guiding hands on yours, teaching you patiently, her soft voice tickling your cheek, her soft kiss ‘well done’ as you master a concept. you love this woman so much, it’s almost overtaking. as you’ve been reflecting, your feet have been carrying you towards the part of the garden that has always belonged to the two of you.

• ever since you pulled her away from the insistent clamour of the court to hide in the little clearing you two had unwittingly stumbled upon, you had always met here for your strolls through the gardens, made out read together here, and always enjoyed your time alone, here where nobody can find the two of you. (well, actually… portia found your little spot ages ago, but felt too terrible to interrupt your time together. she’s also probably been leading everyone subtly away from your spot together. “no, they’re not to be bothered! no, it can wait! leave them alone or so help me—”)

• when you finally reach the secluded clearing right in the thicket of the palace gardens, you turn into your safe-haven together, and lose your breath. nadia hasn’t turned towards you yet, but the clearing is strung with beautiful lights that dot the bushes around you and make it seem like there are little fireflies in amongst the bushes, there are new wildflowers planted all through the thicket that gives the little clearing even more of a charming atmosphere, and the soft blanket that’s spread across the floor is a classic daisy-white, edged with lace and strewn with baby’s breath. there’s a feast fit to feed many more than two people on a slightly raised honey-oak wood platter.

• nadia herself is dressed in an outfit you haven’t seen her wear before, a long, flowing cream-coloured dress that fits her waist and flares out in a single layer, a slit running up to show most of a long, perfect leg. her hair is open and tumbling in beautiful, shining amaranthine waves down her back. the dress billows around her arms only to cinch in at the wrist, and you find yourself unable to look away. “nadi…” your voice is soft, and she turns to you, anything she has to say dying on her lips as she inhales sharply.

• “my love, you look… exquisite,” comes her breathy voice, her eyes sparkling as she takes you in wearing the outfit she picked for you. “well, it’s all thanks to you,” you say lightly, trying to take away from the fact that your face is so hot you think it would burn you to touch it. she notices, and stifles her fond smile lest she embarrass you. instead, she strides across the clearing in one quick motion, takes you by the waist, dips you over, and meets your lips with her soft, full ones. you sigh into her, running your hands through your hair as you’ve been longing to do since first you walked into the clearing. she reluctantly pulls you back up again when you break away for air, keeping her arm around your waist as she pulls you close to her again, stroking your cheek as you look into her eyes, lost in how utterly regal she is. you’re seized by another wave of admiration and love for this woman. you can’t even find the words to tell her how much she means to you, and so you pull her to you in another kiss.

• you don’t even realise you’re pouring all your love for her into your kiss both figuratively and literally until she pulls away, looking at you with an utterly overwhelmed expression, tears tinged with rose-petal pink rolling down her cheeks. “oh, nadi i’m so sorry! oh, please don’t cry!! i didn’t mean to— mmrph!” she cuts you off, meeting your lips with such fervour you take a step back— but she pulls you back to her, moulding you into her person as if the two of you are one and the same. but in a way, you are. you’d be a shell of a person without your love, and you know how deep her affection for you is.

• “mc… that was overtaking,” comes her soft voice. “oh nadi, i’m so sorry i wasn’t thinking!” you stumble over your words, berating yourself again and again in your mind. “sometimes it just happens and i don’t realise it, but—” she shushes you, her eyes shining. “you love me… that much?” her soft voice comes, and you pull back in confusion to take her in.

• “uh… nadi. you’re the most stunning, clever, kind, resourceful person i’ve ever met. you’ve got the biggest heart and i absolutely love you for it. you make me so, so happy,” you tell her, a wide smile on your face. “of course my love for you is overtaking! i think i fall in love with you a little more every day,” you confess, a sheepish smile on your face as you look away from her, but she turns you back to her by your chin, pulling you to her for another kiss.

• “you complete me.” is her only reply. you know she can’t put what she feels for you into words, but you look up at her with surprise as she takes your hand suddenly. “mc i can’t put all that i feel for you into words but my aura will allow you to see just how much i adore you,” she tells you with a warm smile as you place your hand on her face, opening your mind to her aura. it’s a simple spell, you shouldn’t be feeling this drained simply from tapping into nadia’s aura, and yet… when the full force of her love for you hits you, you actually stumble. when nadia catches you, her laugh is warm and full of love as she lowers you both down onto the picnic blanket. you snuggle further into her arms, resting your head on her chest as her arms encircle you. “oh, nadia. thank you.” you don’t say anything else, hoping she’ll know just what you’re thanking her for. she does. you think she’ll always understand you, whether you tell her or not, and as she pulls away gently to pull a bowl of your favourite fruit towards the two of you, you’re struck by how lucky you are. how lucky, to have this incredible woman sitting here beside you at all.

• “come here, mc,” comes her soft voice. for once, she doesn’t need to put on a front for anyone. it’s just her and the one she loves. will make as if she’s going to feed you, and then tease you instead, maybe getting a little juice on your cheek and kissing it off you. the rest of your picnic together is spent simply talking quietly, enjoying each other’s company. you dance slowly in the clearing, your head on nadia’s chest as she leads the two of you in w slow dance, her hand securely around your waist. neither of you need to say very much, and the beginnings of sunset comes to find the pair of you stretched out lazily on the picnic blanket. her head rests on your lap as you stroke her hair gently, probably running your fingers through it a few times, and singing her a lullaby or just a sweet and or slow song.

• a.n: yes, i said singing. i don’t care whether you think your voice is pretty or not, (it is. fight me.) nadia loves it because it’s uniquely yours. nothing puts her more at ease than your slow and steady voice reading or singing to her. look, some voices are deemed by most people to be the standard, lovely voice— and if you fall into that category then great! i’m so happy your voice is like that!! but if you don’t, i want you to know that some voices are made just to sing softly-spoken lullabies and i think that’s beautiful. <3

• but towards the end of your picnic, you’ll tell her tentatively, “nadi… ?” she’ll hum in response. “yes, my heart?” “well um… i know you got me all those gifts and i just wanted to say thank you,” you say softly. she sits up, coming to cup your cheek. “anything for you, my dearest. but what troubles you?”

• “well it’s just that my gift isn’t all that, i just made it myself,” you’ll try to tell her, but she’s having none of it. is shushing you by the second sentence. “don’t say ‘just’, mc. i made some of your gifts myself, too. it means that you care for me so, that you know well enough what i’d like,” she tells you with a gentle smile.

• you’ll pull out the small, carefully wrapped package in your favourite colour. “here it is,” you tell her shyly. “i hope you like it.”

• when she unwraps it, she looks to you with shining eyes. “mc, this is beautiful!” she tells you. it’s a jewellery box you smelted using magic. the intricate engravings on the top took an especially long time to do, but they’re in native prakran and your home language, looping elegantly through one another to form confessions of love, linked so that they’ll never end. in the middle are the numbers ‘II’ and ‘0’ in roman numerals, and she looks to you with glassy eyes before you tell her softly to open it.

• when she does, she loses her breath. “mc… is this you and i?” she asks you, looking up at you with the most beautiful smile you can’t help but give one in return. you nod in response, your mouth curving up ever so slightly as you recall the memory. “oh, this was our first ever dance!” she tells you, her eyes alight at the memory. “i remember how we pushed and pulled like magnets. you knew everything i was going to do before i did it, mc, and you trusted me to lead you. it was the first time i truly saw you dance, and it was uniquely beautiful,” she tells you, smiling at you. you can’t help but meet her lips at her adorable expression, pulling her to you as she tilts your head up and to the side, resting her hands on your hipbones.

• she has a gala for you over the next few days where she leads you again in the palatial dance, the two of you dancing in sync and a beautiful rhythm as she spins you around in your beautiful outfit, but today belongs to the two of you.

• you’re not getting any sleep tonight! so enjoy. but seriously, it’s the most loving, gentle night you’ve had with her yet and that’s saying something since nadia takes care of you so much. still so filled with passion, though. the morning after, she’s cancelled everything to simply lay with you, and you’re overjoyed at the unexpected gesture.

• you’ll definitely blush as you catch sight of her thoroughly marked neck, and she’ll pull you to her sleepily. you’ll both get the rest you deserve.

julian

• as you awaken, you notice that your room is empty, and you call out for julian as you step out of bed. “hey, jules!” your call echoes through the empty house.

• julian hasn’t left you a trail of rose petals, but rather detailed, encrypted instructions that lead you through the town, picking up items everywhere you go. every time you solve a clue, a grin spreads across your face— they’re all so thought through, so meaningful. you love this man and all his melodrama so much.

• when you’re finally finished with the list, you find yourself in a secluded section of the whispering woods, looking around yourself in awe. this part of the forest is lit with bioluminescence, beautiful flowers and plants streaked with all sorts of glowing colours curling into the undergrowth and lighting up the night with bursts of colour. julian sits on a dark picnic blanket, a lantern beside him, with a luminous blue, star-like flower held out towards you. “you’ve found me, mc,” comes his playful voice, and you just barrel into his arms, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing with all your might.

• all through the picnic, julian softly tells you how much you mean to him and how much he loves you, as you feed him bits of lobster claw, and eventually when the night is over it finds the two of you strolling slowly back to your house, julian’s hand tightly in yours.

muriel

• when you awaken muriel’s right there beside you, pulling you into him gently. “happy one year anniversary, mc,” he murmurs into your hair. the two of you will just snuggle and relax for the entire morning, and towards the middle of the day he’ll tell you with the biggest, tomato-red blush on his face that he… picked out an outfit for you that he thought you’d like, (with asra’s help, of course— or maybe he asked nadia, and she was surprised and taken aback but utterly delighted to help her friend) and would you like to get dressed now… ? he’ll come and pick you up later, when everything’s all set up.

• you take in the outfit with a soft smile. although it’s simple, you love it. you dress right away and spend the rest of the afternoon matching accessories and shoes, and doing your hair. if you like dresses, it’s a simple forest-green summer dress that hugs your waist and flares out, that you pair with a little locket muriel made you when he confessed his love to you. you’re wearing heels or flats, but either way you look lovely. if not a gown, you wear a simple forest-green shirt and a pair of linen trousers. either way, the simplicity makes you look radiant.

• when muriel comes back to get you, he takes you in with wide eyes, a blush spreading steadily across his face. “whoa… mc you’re so pretty,” he’ll tell you with a soft smile, and you can’t resist pressing your lips to his. he takes your hand in his and walks you through the forest. little murmurs of “mc you’re so lovely,” and “mc i love you so much,” break the calm forest noise as the two of you stroll through wildflowers and holly, until you reach a clearing full of wildflowers. it’s night now, dusk has long since fallen, and the meadow looks even more beautiful as you turn back to muriel with a grin. “muri it’s so pretty! thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him with a soft smile.

• he pulls you forward to the picnic blanket, and the two of you lay down with your faces to the stars. as he feeds you, he’ll point out constellations and tell you their stories, his voice soft and full of love. when he tells you the story of orion and the pleiades, you groan in protest you find that he still chases them across the night sky. “i’d chase you across the night sky for all eternity,” comes his quiet voice, his warm breath tickling your cheek as crickets chirrup quietly all around the two of you.

• come morning, the two of you accidentally fell asleep in the clearing… but neither of you are even mildly unhappy about that, and you laugh together the entire way home, making jokes and retelling the stories from last night in silly voices.

• muriel cuddles with you for most of today, as well.

portia

• when you wake, it’s to the sweet smell of something baking, and you throw your feet out of bed immediately, sprinting to the kitchen as you take in portia, with tousled morning hair in her sleep-shirt and underwear, baking your favourite desert. you sneak up behind her and tickle her sides, and she almost drops the tray she’s holding, setting it down quickly to turn to you, a stern expression on her face. it quickly melts away as she’s reminded of how adorable you are, and instead she feeds you a bit of batter or custard, kissing your nose as you give her a big morning hug, coming up to meet her lips and running your fingers through her hair.

• “oh, mc…” she signs into your lips. “good morning to you too, my love,” comes your answering voice, a smile on your lips. her lips curve up as well. “happy one year anniversary, mc!!” she shouts, barrelling into you with another bear hug. “oh, sweet arcana, let me die here,” you sigh into her arms before she thwacks your forehead lightly. “nuh uh, mc. you’ve already done that once,” she reminds you as you grin sheepishly.

• when she’s finished baking, you two probably take a nice warm bath together. you’ve each bought each other outfits, and you go to seperwre corners of the house, giggling softly, to change. your outfit is definitely cottagecore, and as you change into it you’re taken by how cute it looks. if you prefer gowns, yours is a classic white sleeveless picnic dress that hugs your waist and flares out around your ankles, with a tie at the back that folds sweetly into a bow. you’ve got straw wedge heels that go perfectly with the dress, and classic accessories to go along with it. if you prefer trousers, you have a classic set of light brown trousers and a cream-coloured shirt with a classic hat that matches your trousers.

• you’ve bought portia a lovely petal-pink dress with billowing sleeves that cinch around the elbows, that flutters out to the ankles, (you had it measured specifically so she doesn’t trip in it) and a soft tie to go around her waist. you’re hoping she leaves her hair open, and as the two of you meet in the kitchen in the middle of the house, both of you smile at the other. before either of you can say anything, pepi gives a proud little “peep!” and sits in between the both of you, tilting her head. the two of you haven’t left her out of the fun, and she’s got a sweet little cream-and-pink coloured bow around her neck. the two of you laugh as portia turns to you. “i knew you’d look amazing in that, sweetheart!” she tells you with a grin. “give us a twirl!” you do so, and spin her in your arms, pulling her in for a kiss as the two of you grab the picnic basket and head out.

• the meadow is big and beautiful, stretching into the distance. there are wildflowers everywhere, and as you lay out the picnic blanket you can’t help pulling portia up to you and away from the blanket to dance with you among the flowers. dancing with portia isn’t like dancing with any of the other main 6. dancing with portia is… instinctual. you’re led by your shared love and trust in each other, and it’s gentle but sure. you know she’s there to lead you in the dance, and her hand around your waist is secure. as you dance, she rests her head on your chest as you now take control, leading the two of you in a slow spin and then dipping her to meet her lips with yours.

• you feed each other, and read to each other, simply enjoying each other’s company until the sun sets.

lucio

• lucio has the entire day planned to a tee. the outfit he’s picked out for you is obviously lavish and probably worth more than some people make in a lifetime. gifts are also his love language, but he’s very domineering in what he’ll give you. it all conforms to what he wants you to wear and like. and so, even if you aren’t too into the overly expensive outfit, you wear it anyway and take yourself down to the gala he’s planned specifically for today.

• “ah, my darling mc!” he calls to you, as a smile lights up his face. he pulls you to him, dipping you for the whole court to see as he rights you again, wrapping his arm around your waist. “oh, mc. you do know that i love you more than life itself, don’t you?” comes his dramatic voice, soft so only you can hear.

• when the banquet is finished, get ready to not sleep at all have a lovely relaxing night.

[soobmint]

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.” 

-

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of  boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest. 

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together. 

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

��Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

- 

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. 

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck. 

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure. 

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face. 

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. 

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

-

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back. 

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

[you-did-well-moon]

Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate

Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader

Word count:  2,994

A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!

TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.

You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty. 

You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words. 

“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”

How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.  

The end of the month was in two weeks. 

You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building. 

Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings. 

Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.

“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”

You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago. 

Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago. 

Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.

You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest. 

You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you. 

“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Fuck you”.

Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place. 

Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue. 

It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.

“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.

 Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.

You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways. 

A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something. 

Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one. 

A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.

You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran. 

He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished  with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.  

“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?” 

You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.

“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.

“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face. 

You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today. 

“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.

After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.

There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears. 

The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor. 

A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Hey bud, you need some help there?”

The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.

“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.

You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.

With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest. 

As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”. 

You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.

With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt. 

You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down. 

With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand. 

You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones. 

You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.

You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart. 

You felt warm. 

After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest. 

You were scared of it. 

With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you. 

“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind. 

You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered. 

You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away. 

“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand. 

You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone. 

With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away. 

He couldn’t.  

Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting. 

“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.

At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs. 

He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself. 

“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.  

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

mr. worst cup

CollegeBarista!Jaemin x Reader

summary: Jaemin messes up your order and in turn messes up any chance at any sort of relationship with you (or so he thinks)

word count: 4.3k

A/N: I really hope you guys like it! 

Taglist! @eggbutnotyolk​

Mornings, Jaemin hated them. Yes, that was beyond cliche, but it was the truth. Especially right now. At approximately 7 am, Jaemin also hated being awake, Jeno, being cold, people, Jeno again, and work. 

Jaemin and Jeno both worked at a cafe near campus where Jeno worked the morning shift, had time for a quick workout, then went to school, all because he enjoyed mornings. On the other hand, Jaemin hated mornings, so he slept in, went to class in the afternoon for a few hours, and then came to work in the evenings. It was a schedule that just worked for the both of them, no downsides- usually.

But Jaemin was not in the comfort of his bed, dreaming, drooling, and snoozing away like he could have been this morning. No, he was working Jeno’s shift because Jaemin was the best friend on the planet and he would do anything for Jeno anytime Jeno wanted- no. Jeno had woken up with a high fever and a sore throat, and it was easier to wake Jaemin, his roommate, to ask for him to cover his shift than to text another coworker. Anything for the health of the general public, gag, Jaemin hated how nice Jeno was sometimes.

So after opening at a bright and early 6:45, helping only one customer in the 45 minutes that he had been open, Jaemin was starting to feel that anger from being up so early. He should have some coffee to give himself energy and help with the anger, but his brain just couldn’t seem to send the signals to his limbs to make him move. His eyes were locked on all the empty tables and chairs of the cafe, tables and chairs that were always filled during his normal evening shift. The emptiness paired with the godforsaken jazz song playing over and over and over again were driving him insane. After a five-minute war between his mind and body, he got to work making a drink for himself. His specialty iced americano with his precious eight shots of espresso. His priceless, liquid gold. He was so concentrated while making his drink that he didn’t even hear the door open to reveal his second customer of the day. 

“Oh my god, Jeno! Eight shots?” He heard a voice exclaim. “Oh, you’re not Jeno, I’m so sorry.”

“Just a minute please, I’ll be right with you,” Jaemin replied. 

He couldn’t keep you waiting forever, so he set his prepared drink aside and made his way to the customer at the counter. Oh, this cute customer. He quickly turned to the register, asking you for your order with a polite smile.

“Just a medium iced caramel latte with almond milk, double the caramel drizzle, and an extra shot please.” You recited your order.

He nodded, took the money, and began working on your order, but unfortunately, his mind was not on your order. He just wanted a sip of his coffee, for the energy to kick in. His body was craving it, the taste, the energy that would make him feel normal, like a human. He could have gotten a quick sip in if the bell over the door hadn’t distracted him. Another customer, same routine: smile, I’ll be right with you, finish one drink, new drink to make. He distractedly reached for the cup on the counter, calling out your name before turning to the new customer. 

You approached the counter hesitantly, this did not look like your drink. The bell over the door sounded again and again as you hesitantly reached for the drink that was supposedly yours. You could just ask him to remake your drink, but the line was getting longer with the morning rush beginning and you had to get to class soon. That and you would feel awful asking him to waste supplies to make a simple drink again. 

Okay, you reassured yourself, hopefully, this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe this barista just makes it differently, much differently, than Jeno does. You grabbed the drink and a straw, calling out a “thank you” as you walked out of the cafe. Stopping beside a trash bin you unwrapped the straw and took a sip of the pitch-black drink. Your face scrunched up in disgust, you could barely fight back the urge to spit out the coffee, no matter how hard your body was screaming at you to get it out.. You could not bring yourself to even look at the poison in hand so you tossed it into the bin, what a sad waste of money and his work. 

The next morning you walked in a little later, as your first class of the day had gotten canceled. You joined the line, looking at the menu because you could not and would not order your usual today. Normally you wouldn’t have to look at the menu, Jeno knew how to make your drink perfectly, but Jeno was not there. The take on your drink yesterday had scarred you, perhaps a hot tea today. 

“Hello, the caramel latte again today?” The same barista from yesterday asked. Where the hell was this guy getting “again” from?

You smiled almost apologetically with a hint of apprehension, “No thank you, just a mint green tea with honey please.”

He nodded, tapping away on the tablet, taking your money, and getting straight to work. The bell over the door became the background noise as the rush of professionals and early risers came in for their morning caffeine fix. Jaemin looked at the clock quickly, just 10 minutes before another coworker would show up to help him, this rush was too crazy. He quickly stirred the honey into the cup, called your name, and got to the counter to continue taking orders. It was too bad he didn’t get to make more conversation or look at you longer. Not in a weird way, he felt like he had barely had a chance to even get a glance at you today.

You had barely made it on time to class, sliding into your seat just a minute before your professor walked in and began a quick review of your last class. You sat back with a sigh, taking a sip of your warm drink. 

Well, this was odd, your tea didn’t taste like tea at all. Maybe it was just the first sip? No, the next sip tasted like nothing but honey. Confused, you took the lid off the cup to take a look, only to be met with the sight of steaming water mixed with honey-no tea in sight. 

After class, you sent a quick text to your usual barista and friend, Jeno, to let him know that you had notes for him. Time to carry on with your day, sadly caffeine-free.

Jaemin had had no idea that he had messed your drinks up so badly. When he had given you his americano the rush had just come in so when he went to look for his drink later he had figured that his coworker had just accidentally tossed it. The second day, he could blame the rush again. He had haphazardly tossed a tea bag in the general vicinity of the cup before passing it in your direction. So it came as a surprise to him that for the rest of the week that he covered Jeno’s shift, the cute customer that came in right before the rush, that would be you, had stopped coming in. It was a shame, but he could continue on with his life with little to no regret. Maybe he would see you again or maybe another customer would catch his eye. There was no use in dwelling on something he had no control over or wasting time letting his mind run wild with anxious thoughts of why you hadn’t come back.

That was until he came home one day a week later to find Jeno on a loud call. Jeno smiled and quickly mouthed to Jaemin that he was on the phone with a friend. “Jeno, I’m telling you. That was the worst coffee I have ever tasted. Never in my life have I had a drink that could be used to run a car. I just don’t understand how you could mess up a caramel latte that bad.” He heard. 

Caramel latte? The voice sounded familiar but he was hopeful that maybe, just maybe it wasn’t you. 

“And the next day, god Jeno, I ordered a tea because I was so nervous to order a coffee and all I got was hot water, then I stopped going until you went back.” It was you, This was the worst-case scenario and it was you, the cute customer that he had developed a tiny, little crush on. He tried to remember how he had made your orders, and he swore he made them the way he asked. But how was he supposed to remember anything correctly when he was up before 10 every day and coming in contact with a hundred people?

“Yeah, I can do Friday morning, see you then.” Had Jaemin missed the rest of the conversation? It seemed so.

“So Mr. Makes the Worst Cup of Coffee, how was your day?” Jeno smirked.

Jaemin scoffed, “We don’t even know if it was me.”

Jeno burst out laughing immediately going to explain that those were the days that he was sick while Jaemin yelled over him stating that perhaps, perhaps, it was another barista you were talking about. But they both knew that no one else that worked in the cafe drank anything nearly as strong as Jaemin’s iced americano. Jaemin sighed having clearly lost the argument, “How do you know them anyway?”

“We’re the same major,” Jeno answered with a simple shrug. Maybe it wasn’t too late for a change in major.

This customer was so close to home and he had somehow ruined one of the things he prided himself on. He was so proud of his barista abilities, it was a passion of his. Customers constantly came back for his drinks specifically, left him tips (for his drinks or looks- he didn’t care), asked when Jaemin would be back on his days off, and he had gotten employee of the month a few times. 

After that night, you had not left Jaemin’s mind. It was like all he could think about was you. When he saw Jeno, every day, he wondered if Jeno had seen you. When he woke up every morning he remembered that you were up early, bright-eyed and ready to take on the day. At work, he constantly wondered if maybe you would come in and order something. Walking across campus he wondered if he maybe had a class in the same buildings as you. At this point, it was no longer a little crush on the cute customer that came in twice a couple weeks ago, it was a crush on a friend of a friend, someone that he could actually potentially meet one day. 

Maybe he could run into you on campus, leaving the library after studying so hard that he could offer to buy you a cup of coffee. There could be a party soon that the two of you would magically bump into each other at where he could blow you away with his bartending skills. It was such a weird thing for Jaemin to experience, imagining what might be with someone he didn’t know beyond being a customer. He had been in relationships before but never had there been a person that consumed his every thought. 

Granted the day after the call, Jaemin did feel a little- or really a lot of anger towards you saying he made the worst cup of coffee that he did actually let his anger fuel his day. He was flipping violently through textbooks, punching away at the keys on his computer, nearly ripping through sheets of paper with the pressure of his pencil. He didn’t like this feeling, he had to remind himself to calm down and take deep breaths. No one had ever made him feel this angry, if it was even anger that he was feeling or maybe just sadness poorly masked as anger. That made much more sense, it really did pay off to have taken that psychology class his first semester.

You had become so involved in every part of Jaemin’s day that he just wondered if in this very moment he was imagining you walking out of Starbucks while he sat at a red light on a sunny Friday morning. Had his mind become so powerful that he could now make things and people appear out of thin air? He hadn’t tried that since he was a kid, but maybe he had just become more powerful. It couldn’t be you though right? He knew there was no way he had super powers, but there was also no way it actually was you, it would be the biggest coincidence. He rolled down the passenger side window, leaning closer to the sidewalk where you were walking towards the parking lot and gasped when he realized that his imagination was in fact, not playing tricks on him, it really was you. 

“Are you cheating on us?!” He screeched. Uh oh, he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. The stupid mermaid was just staring at him mockingly, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. It was the worst word vomit he had ever experienced. 

You stopped and squinted trying to look at who had just yelled at you, lucky for you Jaemin was still in shock from actually yelling that he was frozen still with a hand clasped over his mouth. Yup, that would be the person that yelled. You looked him dead in the eye and took a long sip of the drink in hand. “Tastes better than yours.” You cheekily called back. 

Jaemin’s jaw dropped, he was so ready to defend his barista title, his locally-owned cafe, but the car behind him seemed to think the opposite thanks to its incessant honking because the light had been green for more than 10 seconds. Once again, you had plagued his thoughts, not necessarily in a good way though. You had betrayed him-no, you hadn’t but he was dramatic.

He could at least spend some time away from you, it’s not like he saw you out in public very often, ever saw you on campus, or came in during his shift. He was lost in his thoughts as he walked through the door to his apartment. He heard Jeno laugh, then a new voice. Very odd, but he put on a smile and reminded himself to be polite. 

“Hi- oh you,” Jaemin said. 

“Nice to finally meet you properly, please don’t yell at me again.” You smiled playfully. 

Jeno’s eyes widened comically in shock, immediately interrogating Jaemin. Why would Jaemin think it’s okay to yell at someone he doesn't know? Much less one of Jeno’s friends. Jaemin really did try to defend himself, but every time he tried to make a point it just didn’t make sense. He sounded so stupid. “I am so sorry about him.” Jeno apologized, elbowing Jaemin’s rib. 

“I’m sorry too, it was inappropriate and rude of me to yell at you.” Jaemin recited. This was not the first time he had had to apologize for yelling at someone in public. 

You waved the both of them off, “I was messing around, it’s nice to match a name to a face.”

Jaemin made his way to his room like a scolded child while you and Jeno returned to the screens in front of you, already typing away before the bedroom door even shut. Jaemin made a promise to himself that he would stay in his room until you left. There was no way that he would go out there and risk even more embarrassment in front of you, not just the customer he had a small crush on but the innocent pedestrian he yelled at that very morning. His mind was swirling with regret and thoughts of how badly he had messed up any chance he had with you. He could not go out there and ruin any remaining chance of friendship or even acquaintanceship, or even risk you going to Starbucks every day and never going back to the cafe. Half an hour later he pulled a pillow over his face to muffle his groans, these thoughts were making him crazy, one groan from his throat and a rumble from his stomach. There was no way he could wait until you left now, he had to get food. 

Jeno looked up as the door opened, “Right on time, does chicken sound good for dinner?” 

Jaemin nodded, ready to turn back and relax on his bed but instead he lingered in his doorway. He ignored the nerves in his stomach and decided that the best decision as a host in his home would be to not leave you alone while Jeno called in the order. Even if he did think you were a little bit of a treacherous snake- from a business standpoint of course.

He cleared his throat, effectively grabbing your attention, “So uh, what are you guys working on?”

“Jeno and I are partners for a project in a communications class so we have to analyze a bunch of sources and then explain why the audience could interpret each source in different ways.” You answered simply with a shrug, as if you had just told him how to make toast. 

“Well that’s cool…”

It was now or never. He could talk to you now and clear the air in hopes of perhaps forming a friendship or he could stay quiet and try his best to enjoy the awkward environment. He let out a breathy, nervous laugh, drawing your attention back, “So I think I heard you say I make the, what was it? Oh, the shittiest cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”

Your eyes widened, “No, no, no! I didn’t say that exactly, I did say though, it was the worst coffee I ever had.” 

“How badly could I have messed up your order? So badly that you had to go to Starbucks apparently.” 

“I had ordered an almond milk caramel latte and received a coffee with not only no milk at all, so it wasn’t even a latte, but also no form of sweetness. On top of that, I had one sip at the beginning of the day that kept me awake and energized until midnight. And! You gave me tea with no tea. Surprisingly though, you are not the worst barista in the cafe.” You responded with a playful roll of your eyes.

Jaemin choked on his spit, “What do you mean? I remember the first day you came in while I was making my coffee… you got my coffee.” He dropped to his knees, “Forgive me, please.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, “Get up, I’ve already forgiven you. Jeno talks about you a lot, so I was actually looking forward to meeting you anyway, even if we did start off on not so great terms.”

“They said about 20 or 30 minutes, you good?” Jeno asked as he reentered the room.

You smiled with a nod, “We’re becoming the best of friends.”

Jaemin blushed, ready to get your attention off of him, “So, you said I don’t carry the title for worst barista.”

“Wait really? Who is it then, best to worst go!” Jeno exclaimed. 

“First, is your owner, Johnny, right? Man, he makes a delicious caramel latte, the best I have ever had. Next, I guess would be Ren-”

“Renjun?!” Jeno and Jaemin interrupted. 

“Well yeah, he’s super nice and added caramel syrup to the milk I think? Not sure, it was really good, and he added the cutest little drawing on my cup. You guys aren’t last or anything though, Haechan is.” You told them with a shudder.

You all burst out laughing as you recounted the time that Haechan had yelled at you while taking a phone order and ended up sliding a half filled, kids size cup of water across the counter with your name. Another time he was so busy flirting with another customer throughout the whole process of taking and making your order that he had given them your drink too and just given you a pastry instead. Jeno told you guys about a time that Haechan had poured coffee beans on the floor, not once or even twice, but three times in one four hour shift. Jaemin added his own story where Haechan had convinced a handful of customers that they were out of coffee until Johnny came in from the back with a bag of coffee beans. 

You all wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes as you tried to catch your breaths from laughing so hard. Jeno sat up when he heard a knock on the door. It was probably the delivery man. 

Jaemin looked over at you, a happy smile still on his face. “You know, I would really like it if I could actually make it up to you.”

“Free coffee?” You asked excitedly. 

He laughed awkwardly, “Uh no, I uh, um- I think you’re really... cool?”

“This is fucking painful. Jaemin thinks you’re cute and this is his lame attempt at asking you out on a date.” Jeno jumped in, setting the bag of food on the dining table. 

You flushed, immediately feeling hot, “I would actually really like that.”

The dinner was clouded with awkwardness, little glances here and there paired with a little conversation. Now that you both knew you at least kind of liked each other, and were interested in one another there was no way he could ruin his chance by saying something embarrassing. All the conversations were basic, surface-level, first day of class icebreaker, boring. What’s your major? What do you want to do with your major? What year are you? How long have you and your best friend since birth lived together?

“Maybe it was better when you hated each other, I can practically feel the tension.” Jeno sighed, reaching his hands forward to “grab” the tension. Maybe Jeno would eat his words when the sparks began flying after the first date, maybe. Yeah, probably.

-

BONUS

“I’ve had a really good time with you.” Jaemin smiled down at the ground. The blush on his cheeks was hot while your hand in his was warm. 

“I’ve had a great time with you too, you really made up for all your little mishaps.” You replied.

Jaemin laughed, “Which reminds me, I have to finally show you that I am in fact the best barista, ever. Would you mind if we stopped by the cafe?”

You shook your head, holding his hand tighter on the walk to the cafe. He held the door open for you and guided you towards an empty seat close to the counter so you could both still talk to one another. 

“Welcome! Oh, Jaemin was this your date? I’ve seen you here before right? I’m Johnny, the owner.” Johnny greeted with a smile. 

“Nice to meet you too, I love your cafe. Jaemin is making me a replacement drink since he ruined the first couple of drinks. He doesn’t have to, but he practically insisted.”

“And you didn’t call and complain? You must have really liked him.” Johnny laughed.

You couldn’t fight the heat creeping up your neck, so you quickly looked away from the owner standing in front of you to avoid more embarrassment. 

“Ah, I’ve never made you this nervous! Here is your iced caramel latte with almond milk.” Jaemin teased as he set the drink in front of you. He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your verdict.

You took a sip, pleasantly surprised with the familiar taste of your favorite drink. “It’s so good! Thank you.”

“Better than Johnny and Renjun?” Jaemin asked.

“Maybe stop the questions while you’re ahead buddy, there’s no way it could be better than mine. Hope to see you soon.” Johnny smirked as you both left. 

Jaemin pouted the whole way back to your apartment, you had to reassure him that it was so good that soon he would get sick of seeing your face around the cafe.

He stopped in front of your door, “I don’t think I could ever get sick of your face, so I would really like to take you out again.”

“I would really love that, goodnight Jaemin.” You smiled, pulling him in for a hug before making your way inside.

Jaemin smiled, stepped back from your door and slowly began to make his way home. Walking slowly as his thoughts were filled with date ideas, your face, and just how amazing you truly were. He was so in his head that he didn’t even realize you had come back out to see him again until he felt you tug on his wrist so he could face you. 

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly.

He smiled widely, nodding energetically as he placed a hand on your waist to pull you closer, inviting you to do as you please. Your hands came up to the nape of his neck, nervously playing with his hair before you finally pressed your lips to his own. A short but passionate kiss, it was like your lips were made for one another.

“I’ll see you soon, text me when you get home.” You told him bashfully, holding onto his hand until it eventually fell from the distance between you two. He agreed, locking eyes with you until you were out of his sight and there was no possibility of you ever leaving his mind. Sparks indeed.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

[ateezmakemeweep]

broken (part 2).

san x reader

word count: 12k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of domestic abuse and rape)

(part 1)

no matter how many times you tried to change your thinking patterns, you still classified your life into two parts: before the abuse and after.

you thought, after watching your ex-boyfriend being escorted out of the courtroom with a one-year prison sentence, that you wouldn’t be scared of him anymore.

you thought that moving out of the house and living in your new apartment would make day to day life easier, not needing to see the floor you were beaten on or counter you were forced to have sex on every day.

you thought that having san would make you feel happy and loved and enough. that having a whole new family unit consisting of seven other crazy boys and a crotchety old lady would be enough.

but as you sit curled up on the bathroom floor with tears in your eyes, you’re seeing you severely underestimated everything. 

underestimated just how much trauma you still had to sort through and how badly that asshole really did mess you up.

six months ago:

“so we have the surveillance footage and witness testimony from your neighbors,” your lawyer explains gently, an older woman with kind eyes and soft-spoken voice that quickly transforms in the courtroom. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

the harshest sentence being one year, a measly 365 days compared to the 1,825 he subjected you to every kind of abuse: sexual, emotional, mental, physical. 

hitting and grabbing and slapping until your skin was littered with bruises and cuts. 

talking so harshly to you that you believed dying was the best option, stripping you from any sort of confidence or self-esteem you once had. 

making you feel completely inept and useless, solely viewing you as a piece of property he could boss around and use at his disposal. 

you had left the office with shaking hands and a pounding heart, barely being able to dial san’s number before he answered after one ring. 

this was the first appointment you’ve went to without him, insisting he can’t and won’t miss his midterm for this. 

“hi, love. everything go okay?” he asks softly, with the sweet gentle voice that has quite literally kept you alive these past few months. 

you don’t know what you did in another life to deserve san but you know that without him, you probably wouldn’t have made it this far. without his constant support and sweet reassurances, you wouldn’t have believed you could ever do this. 

willingly tell police officers and lawyers about what happened to you, break down and expose yourself in such a way that always made you feel weak and pathetic. 

admit aloud that, yes, you’ve been a victim of abuse and no, those bruises and scars on your body aren’t from clumsy falls into the wall or cabinet. 

without him, accompanying you to the police station or lawyer’s office, where you knew jungkook was lingering, you would’ve never felt safe. 

you would’ve broke down and took it all back, told them that you made it all up and to release him because he didn’t do anything wrong.

but he did so much wrong and you and san know that. the police and lawyers and judges know it too, several outbursts from the man in court and at the station proving that. 

it’s what makes the thought of a personal statement so hard, having to look your ex-boyfriend in the face and watch him stare you down with not an ounce of remorse or sorrow.

san must know it too, if your silence through the phone tells him anything, and you can already hear shuffling in the background as he prepares to leave his class and head to your apartment.   

“are you done with your test?” you ask first, voice sweet but mousy in a way that makes san’s stomach sink

he knew today was gonna be rough for you, he knew he should’ve asked his professor to retake the midterm next week. 

“yes,” the boy answers immediately, knowing he’s about to run back into the classroom, circle c for the last three answers and haul ass to his car. 

“san, are you-”

“i was done, it’s fine, y/n,” he confirms gently, feet moving and body desperate to rush toward your apartment. 

because he knows after all of this time, you’ve learned to hold back your pain and suffering. years of practice and keeping tears at bay that he’s noticed have made these months difficult for you two. 

and he hates knowing that you still wait till you’re alone to cry. 

that even though every time you do, he wipes away every tear and holds you to his chest until you fall asleep, you still feel most comfortable being sad alone.

that you’re probably already home now, about to bury your face in a pillow and sob until you hear his car and wipe your cheeks clean like nothing is wrong. 

but there’s a lot wrong. 

a lot wrong with how you’ve been treated and how hard it is to move past it. 

a lot wrong with the legal system that makes this painful journey even more exhausting, forcing you to recount memory after memory and answer question after question about the worst ordeals of your life. 

that’s why san can’t help but turn in his test and rush out the door to his car, speeding off campus and onto the highway in hot pursuit of your apartment above the bakery.

it had seemed like perfect little place to get you back on your feet, the smell of freshly baked bread and pleasant bustle of regulars greeting you in the early morning hours. 

there was no commute for you, just a walk down the stairs and through the yellow door of the bakery, where simple work waited for you. 

“you just need to ring up the customers and maybe clean a table or two. most people take their things to go,” your boss had told you, a divorced mother of three who spent most of her life baking before she was finally able to open up a place of her own. 

it was simple work but it was more than you’d done in years, something as little as small talk with regulars successfully draining you. filling you with a nervousness and fear that you’re still feeling even without your ex’s presence. 

but it’s in the way a man yells on the phone about a business deal going sour while waiting for his morning coffee. 

a woman chastising her kids saying that they won’t get to eat the cookies she’s buying after dinner. 

the slam of the door when a harsh gust of wind howls from outside and rattles the small bakery with light blue walls and pictures of bread and desserts.

you don’t know how many coffees you’ve spilt or plates you’ve broken from jumping at the harsh sounds, realizing little by little how hard this transition was gonna be. 

even with san and his friends and your boss and the crazy old lady who secured this new life for you in the first place, it’s still hard. 

you can’t even imagine doing all of these new things alone, just living in such a simple way that the average person takes for granted. 

but you suppose it’s not all simple yet, going back and forth between meetings with your lawyer and the police for the court date that’s rapidly approaching. 

you can feel that the closer it comes, the harder it is to breathe. 

the mere thought of seeing the man who hurt you for the longest five years of your life, sitting in front of you with not an ounce of remorse on his face. making  this process even harder because how are you supposed to talk in front of him? 

see clear as day that you’re not safe and you never will be. 

that he’s gonna get out in a year, because that’s the harshest sentence possible without you being hospitalized or dead, and hurt you again. he’s never gonna stop hurting you because he always said you were his and he wouldn’t ever hesitate to-

you don’t even hear the jingle of san’s keys opening the front door or his softly spoken call of your name. 

you’re only aware of his presence when you feel his warm, small hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing over your wet, salty skin as he mutters your name lowly.

“hey, i’m here, i’m here,” he mumbles sweetly, tone soft and gentle the way it always is no matter what the circumstances are.

he plops down on the couch before pulling you into his lap, his hand rubbing up and down your back gently. you hear the quiet but firm “sh, sh, sh,” against your head, the sharp calming hums always in threes as an attempt to ground you.

you try to focus on his calming sounds and even breaths, the hand on your back so warm and gentle as he lulls your panicked body into a calmer state. 

you bury your face in his chest and breathe in his scent, cologne and detergent mixed with his natural scent that lingers on your pillow every morning. 

“i-i’m sorry.”

the words make his stomach plummet, tears burning his eyes because you never have anything to be sorry for. you never have anything to be sorry for and you say it all the time. 

when you bump into him in the kitchen while making food together.

when you sit on the remote and change the channel by accident.

when you burnt the cookies one night and made the fire alarm go off. 

he remembers that being one of the worse nights, the loud noises making you jump while also flinching away when he lifted his arm up to fan away the smoke. and then you immediately apologized again, cookies long forgotten before he grabbed your hand and led you into the living room. 

he just held your hand as you both watched tv, his thumb rubbing over your skin before you spoke words so quietly, he almost missed them. 

“i wish...i would stop doing that.”

he cranes his neck over to look at you, eyebrow raised and eyes soft as he looks  at you questioningly. 

he wants to tease and say that you’ve never burnt the cookies before but anytime you feel comfortable enough to talk to him like this, he never wants to say the wrong thing.

“i...i know you would never hurt me,“ you continue after a few moments. “and i know i’m just...scared easily, i guess. but it makes me feel bad,” you admit quietly, heart pulling in your chest as you look at the man beside you. 

he has gotten you through the hardest times of your life, has been by your side every step of the way with no questions or complaints, and you haven’t been able to repay him. 

not even with a plate of fucking cookies. 

“you don’t have to feel bad, y/n,” san says gently, his hand reaching out slowly to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. 

your eyes close at his feather light touch and the way it makes your heart jump, his fingers lingering on you in a way that makes you feel so safe and content. 

“and i know it’s hard to believe still but you have nothing to be scared of either. i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again and i mean that.”

“but i feel like i’m hurting you,” you mumble softly, pulling your knees up as you rest your head on the couch cushion. his brows pull together as his eyes roam your face, a pout on his lips the more he looks at you in silence.

“you’ve helped me so much and i just...” tears fill your eyes as you struggle to find the words and breathe. you’ve only been living in your new house for two months now and almost every day, san has been here. 

bringing you food, helping you clean and decorate, spending late nights with you watching movies, helping you through an inevitable fit of panic when your memories and life become too much. 

he makes it easier to breathe and you’re scared that without him, you’re gonna stop one day.

“i just keep... taking from you. you get nothing out of helping me but you still do it anyway and i...you shouldn’t even bother, san. i-i’m not worth this time and i just want you to-”

“stop.”

he tries to keep the anger out of his voice knowing that all of this is what you’ve been told. you’ve been told your whole life that you weren’t enough, were only deemed worthy by a piece of shit who did nothing but hurt and berate you. 

but it doesn’t make it any less hard to hear. to hear in your voice and see in your eyes that you truly believe you’re not worth the time he wants to put into you. 

“you’re worth the time to me,” he says, voice gentle but firm in a way that makes a lump form in your throat. his finger reaches out to trace small circles on your hand, your eyes following it so he doesn’t see the tears building up. 

“i like seeing you happy, y/n. and i wanna help you.”

your teary eyes meet his and you swallow the growing lump in your throat when you see the look on his face, soft and sweet in a way you still can’t believe is directed toward you. 

“i feel like i need a lot of help,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you think back to how day to day life is so challenging and draining. 

the loud voices and the screaming kids and banging door that sends you into a panic. the broken dishes and tear stains on your pillow that are there more often than not after san leaves every night. 

but san’s hearing each and every word right now, his heart panging in his chest at how vulnerable you are right now. how you let him see this side of you and continue to despite how hard he knows everything’s been. 

“that’s okay,” he smiles softly, stopping the circles on your hand to intertwine your fingers. “i’m gonna be here as long as you need me, okay?”

you look up to meet his gaze and feel a tear slip down your cheek, a cry bubbling in your throat that you so desperately wanna let out. 

but you also don’t wanna make san any more sad tonight, biting down on your lip as you nod your head before leaning on his shoulder. 

you don’t see the smile that crosses his face or hear the content sigh that leaves him, his hand in yours and presence enough to lull you into a dreamless sleep. 

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you quietly, looking over your face as he wipes at your cheeks. you meet his gaze and your eyes stay locked on one another, his thumb gentle and soft across your skin.

“did you do good on your test?” you squeak out after a few moments of silence, a smile breaking out across his face. 

“of course i did, we studied all night, didn’t we?” he teases, referring to just last night when you helped him with index cards and read them all to him twice before promptly passing out on his chest. 

a blush crosses your face as you look down in embarrassment, a sweet high pitched laugh bubbling out of him. 

“it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. your drool only ruined a few of them.”

“i don’t drool,” you mutter, a small smile on san’s face as he tightens his hold on you in his lap. 

“did you eat yet?” 

you shake your head as indistinguishable mumble leaves your mouth, curling yourself into his chest more as his warmth and comforting scent envelop you. 

his lips brush against your hair in a small smile, quietly asking what you wanna eat even though he knows you’re gonna say you don’t care. 

“whatever you want,” you mutter against him, the exhaustion of waking up at 5 am and the draining meeting with your lawyer catching up to you. 

and san knows on days like these that chinese food and watching reruns of old cartoons is usually the thing you need to feel a little bit better. 

pretend that just for a few hours, everything is okay and there’s nothing more pressing than spending the night together in what always turns into having a sleepover. 

because just as you found it difficult to live in that house you once shared with jungkook, san finds it difficult to go back to that block every night. 

stay just a few houses away from where he’s reminded of how you were treated while he was just a few feet away.

watching as the backyard once full of flowers becomes dull and colorless and every window reminds him of what was truly going on behind the walls of that house.

it’s one of the reasons why staying with you just makes sense. that and the fact that leaving you always proves to be the hardest part of the night together. 

you with a pout and sad eyes quietly whining for him to stay and him being completely powerless as he throws himself down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist. 

he’s not surprised when the same thing happens tonight, your eyes drooping and body slacking against him before he quietly asks if he should get going. you look up at him tiredly, eyebrows pulled together and one cheek red from you leaning on his chest in a way that makes him hold back a smirk.

“no,” you say quietly, your eyes roaming his face before you quickly realize he might want to leave you. the thought rips a pang of hurt through your chest but you can’t help but feel that might be the case. 

you ripped him away from his test and cried on him all night. why would he wanna stay with you? 

“unless you want to. i-i don’t wanna force you to stay here if you don’t-”

“of course i want to,” san responds, taking your face in his hands gently and allowing his thumb to run along your soft skin. “i was just checking.” 

because he also never wants to overstep. make you feel too overwhelmed or smothered since if it were up to him, he’d never leave your side again. 

his words and touch send relief through you, the panic and fear that attempted to break through quickly dying it. everything about him makes it so easy to be calm and comforted, a smile making it’s way on your face as you nod. 

you place your head back on his chest, sighing contently when you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder a few moments later. you stare at the tv blankly, not sure how long you’re lost in thought about the conversation at the lawyer’s office. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

could you really do that though? strip yourself to the most vulnerable degree and proclaim to a courtroom full of people how weak and defenseless you were for five years? how the man who’s gonna be seated just a few feet away over you had that much power over you? 

would you feel better looking jungkook in the face and telling him that you’re gonna be strong and come out okay? that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore and will rot behind a cell for what he’s done?

or would you it make you feel worse? seeing him again and the blankness behind his eyes. the pity and sorrowful looks on the judge and court officers when your voice shakes and eyes brim with tears as you recall your old life.

you’re not even sure if san is awake at this point, his arm heavy around you and breaths even under your head but you can’t seem to stop your tired self from speaking.

“my lawyer suggested i make a personal statement.”

san doesn’t stutter under you, the only sign of him being awake when he hums lowly and gently pulls away from you. the bed dips next to you when he lays on his side, your eyes meeting just as he reaches out to smooth out a messy strand of hair.

“yeah?” he mumbles lowly, his soft eyes roaming your face. “how do you feel about that?” 

the question, despite the serious tension in leaves in the air, makes you smile softly, remembering when your lawyer recommended counseling, you thought back to san waiting in the car and felt as if you already had all the support you needed. 

he has the most patience and kindness of anyone you’ve ever met before and you can’t imagine trusting someone as much as trust him. have someone else hear you this vulnerable and genuine, see you cry and feel all the emotions that come with rebuilding your life after being a victim of domestic violence. 

“i don’t know if i can do it.”

the words make san frown, holding himself up on his elbow as he looks over your face with concern. he can tell you’re tired, eyes hazy and drooping but he also can tell your mind’s been preoccupied. 

more so than usual. 

“i...i don’t know if i could do it with him there.”

“he’s not gonna hurt you anymore,” san reminds you gently, his hand creeping down in between your bodies to take ahold of yours. it’s soft and small and warm and everything about it makes you feel safe. 

“i-i know. but...just him being there. watching me and hearing me say what he’s done when i know he has no remorse. and then telling more people how i let it go on for so long and-”

“you didn’t let anything go on for too long. it wasn’t your fault. y/n.”

tears burn your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, hearing those words from almost everyone in your life but still not having the ability to grasp it. 

it feels like your fault, it feels like you’ve allowed yourself to be treated in a way you knew was wrong for far too long. 

because now look at you. trying to rebuild your life but being panicked when the wind howls just a little too loudly outside. 

you take a few deep calming breaks and swallow as you look at him, eyes hazy and glossy and threatening to close shut; you’re so tired but it’s like your brain never stops going these days. 

“she said...it’d guarantee the harshest sentence. but shouldn’t the evidence be enough? the tapes and the witnesses? why- why do i have to keep going through this?” you whisper, voice shaky and tears building as you look at him. the sight alone makes san stomach sink, rolling his tongue between his lips anxiously. 

“i just want it to be over. i don’t wanna keep recounting what happened over and over and over again. i... it’s so hard, san. it’s so hard and i feel like i can’t do it anym-” 

your words break off as a quiet whimper leaves your mouth, crumbling against san’s body when he pulls you forward and wraps his arms around you. your head falls in the crook of his neck as his hand rests on the back of your head, breathing slowly and evenly as quiet hums leave his mouth. 

“I know, baby,” san mumbles, his lips against your head as he presses a kiss to your hair. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, okay? no one can make you do anything.”

"you're hurting me, jungkook," your broken voice tells him, the cracks and pain behind it familiar to even your own ears.

you don't know how many times you've heard yourself like this. so desperate and defeated.

"i wish i didn't have to, babydoll," he says lowly, "but you never listen. you make me do this."

and you don’t even think about if you’re gonna regret it at the time. not use your own voice and speak up in front of the courtroom about what the man on trial did. 

you can only think about his eyes watching you, your friends hearing your voice quiver and shake, the judge maybe not taking your words into account. it all seems too much right now, the crushing weight of anxiety and fear that’s making you feel too weak to do that. 

“you made it this far. and it’s almost all over, okay?” san reassures, his hand stroking your hair as he tries to calm your cries. “if you wanna do it, i’ll be right there next to you. we’ll all be there for you and you’ll be safe the whole time. but if you don’t, that’s okay too. you don’t have to and everything will still be okay.”

and because it’s like the blonde just knows everything when it comes to you, everything is okay - or as okay as things can be under these circumstances. 

your lawyer didn’t bat an eye when you told her you weren’t sure if you could do a personal statement, her hand on your shoulder as she gently tells you that it’s okay. that the harshest sentence would probably still be given, considering the unusual amount of evidence in a case like this. 

you watched jungkook get taken out of court with a one year sentence, thrashing in handcuffs and cursing at you while you gripped san’s hand tightly. 

you had foolishly thought watching that was gonna somehow heal you immediately. 

no longer make you afraid or flinch at the smallest of sounds or movements, make you feel like now you can take san’s words to heart and feel worthy of the love he showered you with. 

but it was with that love, you started to grow too dependent. let it consume you in a whole new way that made you feel like without san, you couldn’t breathe. 

at first, he didn’t know what had triggered the episodes that followed three months after the trial. 

it had seemed as if you were making a lot of progress over the past few months, truly happy and smiley without an ounce of fear in your eyes that had always seemed to linger. 

you were working hard at the bakery, becoming closer with the regulars and even finding it easier to talk with them. they found you comforting and sweet, always greeting them with a warm smile and remembering how many sugars they got with their morning coffee. 

the same warm smile you gave san when he told you he was visiting his parents for his mom’s birthday one weekend, sending him off with a loaf of bread and an array of cookies. 

“don’t eat them all,” you teased lightly, side-eyeing mingi who was one of your many regulars and could also take your advice as he shovels rainbow cookies in his mouth. 

“i won’t,” san smiles gently, looking in mingi’s direction and holding back a laugh upon seeing the boy. 

he was probably the next closest person you came to trust since you all got to know each other, a soft spot for him ever since the moment he deemed sunflowers ‘sunnies’ during the darker times. 

mingi was the happiness and innocence you think you must have had once. finding the good in everything and being happy just because the sun was out and dessert was on the table. 

“and neither should you,” san chastises the younger boy, smacking him in the back of the head lightly. you smile softly at the exchange, holding back a snort as you clean off the table next to the bickering boys. 

the arm around your waist a few moments later would’ve startled you had you not smelt san’s cologne, leaning into him and feeling grateful you’re the only three in the store right now. 

you look over your shoulder and smile softly at him, heart stuttering at the look on his face. eyes full of such concern, you should know he’s about to ask you if you’re-

“are you gonna be okay tonight?” 

he wasn’t ignorant of the fact, the same way you weren’t, that this is gonna be one the first nights you’ve spent alone in months. 

not falling asleep to the gentle lull of his breathing or his arms around your waist. no one to be there if you wake up from a nightmare, where memories torment your body as you hear the shouts of your ex and feel as if your body is still being bruised.

san not being there to wake you with a gentle peck on the cheek before dragging you back to the warm bed when you try to get up for work. 

but you have to be okay, right? you’ve been doing so good these past few weeks. and you’re an adult the same way he’s an adult, it’s ridiculous to think you guys would have to spend every night together. 

“of course, silly” you poke him gently, smiling when his dimples poke out of his cheeks. “have fun with your parents. don’t worry about me.”

“i always worry about you,” he mumbles lowly, his lips ghosting over your hair as you push his chest lightly. he bites back a smile when he sees the blush on your cheeks, pulling away from him immediately so you can stick your tongue out at him. 

and that night, it actually feels as if you’re okay. 

you busy yourself by cleaning and cooking before passing out to the vampire diaries. your sleep is dreamless and calm, waking up to a good morning message from san consisting of a bare-faced, messy-haired selfie. 

but a few days after his return is when he began to notice the little changes. 

behaviors he thinks you weren’t even aware of that made his heart sink into his stomach; it reminded him so much of the first few weeks you were away from jungkook. 

how despite the fear in your eyes, you clung to him because you knew he’d never hurt you. felt safe in his presence and sought him out when you were feeling uncomfortable or upset. 

and he sees you’re back to the place right now, so obviously uneasy and upset despite the major progress you’ve been making. 

it was like the second he came through the door, you had to be by his side. leaning your head on his shoulder as you watched your shows or grabbing his hand when he got up to go to the bathroom. 

at first, he thought it was cute - your clinginess and obvious affection toward him. he thought it was sweet and it made him so happy, smiling softly and kissing the top of your head as he told you he’d be back in a minute.

but the more the weeks went on, the worse it was seeming to get. 

you asking him after only a few hours of him at school when he was gonna be back. nightmares and bad memories haunting you when you’d fall asleep for naps in between your shift ending and his last class. 

“baby... are you sure you’re okay these days?” 

the words cause you to stop stirring the pasta in the pot, craning your neck to where san is sitting on the countertop. 

he meets your gaze with a soft smile and extends his hand out to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose before pulling you up.

you squeal at the sensation, giggling quietly because there you two are just perched on the counter like two cats and no regard for the boiling pot of food beside you. 

you giggle again when he places a kiss to your neck, tightening his hold around your waist.

he relishes in the sound of your laugh because it also seems like these days, he’s hasn’t heard it that much. 

“i feel like i haven’t heard that in a while,” he mumbles against your neck, his lips lingering on your skin. he never wants to say the wrong thing with you or make you feel like you’re not doing good enough. 

you pull back and look at him with a small pout, your fingers toying at the end of his shirt nervously. 

“i...i’m okay though,” you tell him quietly, thinking it’s the truth even though you have felt off these days. 

you didn’t know what it was though honestly. it’s felt like ever since san came back from his parents, you’ve needed him extra. clingy and needy and annoying in the sense that the poor man can’t even go away without you needing him. 

and now he seems to know it, too. 

maybe he doesn’t wanna do this anymore. maybe he didn’t sign up for months of you going back and forth, feeling great and confident one week and then back to being clingy and scared the next. 

because you know it’s only a matter of time before two things happens: he gets sick of you and leaves or starts resenting you. doesn’t wanna waste his time with a battered woman when he could be wth fun and carefree college girls. 

“have i been annoying?” 

your blurted out question throws him off as much as it breaks his heart, immediately shaking his head as he cups your cheeks. 

his lips fall into a pout and your eyes immediately fall to them, about to comment on it before he places a sweet, short peck on yours.

you two, despite your close and intimate relationship full of skin-ship, don’t kiss a lot. you can only count of one hand how many times san has kissed you on the lips, most of the time going for your cheek or head.

but you certainly don’t mind. 

you think it’s good to take it slow, since everything else about your relationship is so intense. that’s why the times he does kiss you, you get filled with such a happy warm feeling that usually makes you feel better no matter what. 

that’s how you know you’re not right. that suddenly, for some reason, you’re not okay again despite being so incredibly lucky that the people in you life now care about you. 

they’re trying so hard to help you and it feels like you can’t repay them in any way.

“no, no, baby, not at all,” san says when he pulls back, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. “i’m just concerned.”

the lump in your throat makes it feel like you can’t breathe, biting your lip harshly as you look up at the blonde. 

“i love that you want me around,” he continues softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks down at you. “but i’m just...i also wanna make sure you’re okay.”

you nod your head as you take in his words, slightly calmed by them despite the way your mind is trying to tell you otherwise. 

he loves that you want him around, he just said so. and he wouldn’t put up with you if he didn’t want to, right?

“i’m okay,” you assure sweetly, leaning into his touch just a little bit more. “i guess i just missed you.”

your cheeks flush at the soft, almost touched look that crosses san’s face, his lips falling into a pout as he tightens his hold on you.

“i missed you too.”

boiling liquid splashing onto the stove causes you both to look away, a squeal leaving your mouth as the foamy water overflows the pot. 

“shit!” you squeal, jumping down from the counter to rush over and lower the heat. san watches from his spot with a small smile, chuckling lightly when you throw him a look.

“sorry,” he says sheepishly, a playful roll of your eyes causing him to jump down and hug you from behind.

he presses small kisses and laughs into the crook of your neck as you finish making the pasta, feeding him pieces from the pot to see if it’s cooked enough. 

you eat on the couch and spend the rest of the night watching tv, a relatively calm and relaxed night that makes you feel much better than the past few days. 

you think you just got so used to his presence, the comfort and warmth and light he provides by just being in your apartment and smiling at you. 

you were scared by how attached you’d grown to him, depending on him in a way you think a person who has gone through what you’ve gone through shouldn’t.

but he’s so good and makes you feel loved. it’s such a different feeling than one you’ve ever experienced, after your family and friends and ex-boyfriend let you down time and time again. 

you’ve never had someone like this before but you’ve also never tried to rebuild your life before. never had the chance to be your own person and make your own decisions - it’s something you’re still learning and that’s evident to everyone in your life. 

but the next morning, a pleasant surprise in the form of mrs. kim comes bursting through the door and immediately lights your face with a smile; apart from san and mingi, she’s another person you’ve grown extremely close and fond of. 

she’s the one who made everything possible, rebuilding your life with a new home and workplace. it’s why she always tries to push you further out of your comfort zone and into the real world with gentle prodding and much needed assurance. 

she’s at the bakery for almost two hours before she pulls up a chair behind the register and gets that look in her eye you know all too well. it’s the look she gave you the day you accepted the apartment, insisting you take it and make it your own and to not even think about how to pay her back. 

the look she gave you before the trial as she gave you strength, told you that you were strong and you were gonna get through this, with or without your personal statement. 

and apparently it’s the look she gives you when she broaches the topic of you enrolling back in school. 

“so what do you think?” she asks, tone carefree and excited like she’d been thinking about this for weeks. “is that something you’d wanna do?” 

your immediate thought is yes. yes, yes, yes shout it from the rooftops yes. you miss school and learning and all the experiences that come with getting an education. 

you once loved school and had so many aspirations but then your life apart. the prospect of an education or getting a job was dangled in your face as some sort of manipulation tactic.

that when jungkook went too far and left you especially bloody and bruised, he’d mentioned school like it was the answer to all of your problems as a couple. like that was his penance and would win him boyfriend of the year.

and mrs. kim must see the haunted look in your eye, replaying flashbacks and memories from how choices like that weren’t under your control for the longest time. 

“listen to me, stop staying in there,” she says, flicking at your head and making you wince. “is that something you wanna do? yes or no?” 

“yes but i-”

“but nothing,” the old lady says, wiping out an ipad the boys had been teaching her how to use for the past few weeks; the font is the biggest size you’ve ever seen and has a cat case on that almost makes you burst out laughing upon seeing.

“i was looking at the local school, it’s close and cheap but you could always get some financial aid, scholarships or even a loan,” she begins to tell you, eyes squinted and a wrinkle between her browns as she taps on the screen. “this shit is so hard, i’m still trying to learn. oh, great here it is, okay. look, they even have this major.”

you had mentioned once that you thought about a career in journalism to her, one night when you and her were making cookies in her house as the boys tended to her garden (because they were gardeners now, official, professional gardeners who only know how to plant sunflowers). 

tears almost immediately fill in your eyes as you follow her pruny finger, licking over your lips so you don’t start sobbing. 

she looks up at you after a few moments of silence and it’s promptly followed by her smacking your arm, a scoff leaving her mouth that makes you giggle. 

“what are you crying about?” 

the emotion clogged in your throat makes it hard to speak, attempting to talk through the strange contrast of tears and laughter bubbling in your throat. 

“i just... i can’t believe you remember i told you that. it was so long ago.”

“what? you think because i’m old i don’t remember shit? i’m not a senile, y/n, jesus.” 

a wet giggle leaves your mouth as you listen to her talk about the research she’s done, about how to pay and when you can start and her son’s experience at the local college. 

it all makes you feel very hopeful, excited even, as you think about what once seemed impossible. 

getting out in the world and pursuing a passion you as an individual had. making connections and just conversing with different people and seeing relationships form. 

but all of those doubts and fears instilled in you don’t just go away.

you remember months back when you told san you were writing again, he was the one who recommended going back to school. 

was so happy about it that his eyes were shining and dimples were out and you’d never seen someone more handsome.

but now that you guys are...kind of together, would his mind change? does he not want you talking to other people either now? will he think it’s silly or pointless, since you already have you job at the bakery? 

you know deep down that that’s not the kind of person san is. you knew from the moment you met him and risked talking and smiling and laughing with him that he was good.

but that part of you still scared and broken from what you went through, the prospect of school and freedom dangled in your face as some sort of reward or apology, is scared he won’t approve.

and whether it’s unhealthy or not, all you want is san’s approval. 

“c-can i ask you something?” you ask him later that night, both of you cuddled up on the couch.

a blanket’s thrown over your lap with san’s arm around your shoulder, your head now off his chest as you look up at him questioningly. 

he immediately looks down at you with a soft, curious expression, running his hand through your hair as a small smile makes it’s way on his face. 

“anything,” he hums lowly, already making your nervous body feel slightly more calm. 

you have to try and always remember this is the boy who’s been by your side for months, with no complaints. who saved you from your life before this and only wants you to be safe and happy. 

“i was talking to miss kim earlier today...” you begin, his interest already peeked because he thinks he might know where this is going; he was suspicious ever since the older woman asked him how to make the font larger on her ipad. 

he sees the slight apprehension and fear in your eyes so he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin gently and giving you a small, encouraging nod. 

you take a deep breath and try to shake the worry off, opening and closing your mouth before deciding to spit it out. 

“we...were talking about me going back to school. and i...kind of thought that would be something good for me to do. i used to love school and learning and mrs kim. said there’s a lot of things i could do to pay for it and stuff, if i needed to...” 

his chest hurts slightly watching you stammer over your words nervously, your eyes moving from him to the wall as you start to unconsciously hold his hand tighter. 

“but if you don’t want me to or think it’s a stupid idea, i won’t. i just...wanted to make sure it was okay with you.” 

you don’t see the way san sits there in contemplation as you’re too nervous and toying with the edge of the blanket, his face sympathetic but also a little surprised. 

there’s a lot of things that san is still getting used to, the way you’re so vulnerable and attached to him (in a way he doesn’t mind at all). 

but it’s like right now he’s seeing the severity of it, watching as a grown woman asks for his permission for something she absolutely doesn’t.

it makes tears burn the back of his eyes but he quickly pushes the sensation and desire away, his hand lifting your chin so you made his gaze head-on. 

“y/n...you don’t need my permission to do anything. you... you know that, right?”

your eyebrows pull together almost in confusion that he didn’t immediately respond with a yes or no, head cocked to that side as you lick over your lips nervously. 

he can’t help but think if this was a fault on his part. did he make you feel like you have to ask his permission or approval for things? did he maybe at any point make you feel scared or judged when he’s been doing his best to avoid that?

your harsh grip on his hand brings him back to the conclusion that, right now, this isn’t about him. 

whether he did that or not, he has to make sure right now that you know you’re your own person and don’t need to run decisions by him or anyone else. 

“baby, i think it’s great you wanna do that and will support whatever you wanna do. but you don’t have to ask for...my permission to do anything,” san tells you softly, his hand cupping your face as he presses a kiss to your head; the words ‘his permission’ even feel gross on his tongue.

“i’m happy if you’re happy. and if going to school will make you happy, i’m gonna be supportive 100%. you got it, love?” 

you don’t even know why you’re surprised by san’s reaction but it still brings tears to your eyes, only being able to nod before you bury your face in his chest. 

he bites back a smile at the feel of you against him, running his hand up your back to gently rest in your hair. 

“you still wanna study journalism?” he mumbles against your hair and again, you can only nod so you don’t let out the whimper threatening to leave you mouth.

because it still shocks you day after day that everyone in your life now truly seems to care. 

they remember things about you and want to see you smile, always remind you that you can do whatever you want and are slowly making you see that, maybe, you will be okay in the end. 

it may not seem like a lot to someone who’s been lucky enough to have these things but, for you, it’s something you haven’t ever had before.

the ability to giggle and smile and spend your night with someone who you can see really, truly loves you. who wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and always has your best interests in mind.

that’s exactly why when you fall asleep, san can’t help but turn to look at your sleeping form. he runs his hand through your messy hair, moving a strand from your face and feeling his heart lurch at how peaceful and innocent you look. 

he still can’t get the thoughts out of his heads from earlier, wondering if, maybe, this whole time, he hasn’t been doing the right thing. 

maybe these past few months, you should’ve been rebuilding your life on your own. he shouldn’t have been here every, single step of the way to sooth and coddle and protect you. 

it was something hongjoong said just a few weeks after you moved in and he nearly attacked the boy, asking how he could let you cry alone every night and feel lonely and scared in a new place?

but he also knows that hongjoong is more logical than him. he’s always let his emotions get to him, empathetic and caring almost to a fault. 

and with you, he was always even more clouded. 

now, though, he’s seeing that maybe hongjoong has a point. he’s seen it in the way you’ve become more clingy and dependent on him, something he loves and makes him feel warm but also knows, for you, is a part of feeling safe. 

and as hard as it is for him to admit, he knows you need to feel safe without him. slowly rebuild your own sense of self and security without him always being there to wipe your tears or kiss your face. 

but how is supposed to do that? he thinks, watching your sleeping face with a pained chest and burning eyes.

he’s about to get up to get a glass of water before he hears you whine, both his feet not even on the floor before even in your unconscious you can sense his departure. 

“going to get water, love, i’ll be right back,” he mumbles in your ear, kissing the side of your head when you still and roll back over. 

he gulps down the cool liquid before resting his head on the cold fridge, letting out a sigh as he realizes he may need to have another discussion with hongjoong.

even more so when he goes back into the room and sees your face, the slightest hint of discomfort in your pinched eyebrows and frowning lips. 

you turn back over when he crawls in the bed again, your head on his chest and arm wrapping around his stomach. 

he smiles upon hearing your sleepy voice call his name, dazed eyes staring up at him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 

“hi, baby. i’m back.” 

“i love you.”

the confession make his eyes widen and heart speed up, shocked into silence at those three, sudden words. 

because while it’s obvious that’s how you both feel for each other, your sweet touches and words exchanged since the moment you met one another, you two haven’t ever uttered that sentence. 

never put it out in the open and really discussed your feelings for one another. 

but your eyes are shut and breaths turn even before you can even hear his softly spoken, “i love you,” in return. 

and it’s because he loves you that he tells hongjoong about the thoughts he’s been having, wondering if he’s been doing the wrong thing the whole time and just making this transition harder for you. 

“i think you’re trying to make it easier because you love her and don’t wanna see her hurt anymore.” 

san’s eyes meet hongjoong’s across the dining room table at their house, a house san hasn’t slept or eaten at basically since you moved out; everyone knew where he was and they understood it completely but they also missed their friend’s presence. 

“but...she does need to learn to be on her own, san. she’s never done that before and she’s always been dependent on someone. luckily you’re just...so fucking good that it wouldn’t be a problem. but even with her asking you if she could go to school...she’s not okay, yet, san. she needs to sort her shit out.”

“i don’t want her to be alone,” the blonde admits, voice tight and eyes threatening to water. “i don’t want her to think i’m leaving her.”

“you’re not leaving her alone. you’re just not gonna be attached at the hip 24/7. it’s normal for couples to be apart. you still live and pay rent here, you know. everyone misses you.”

the sound of bickering and plates crashing promptly comes from the kitchen, mingi’s harsh yelp of wooyoung’s name causing a commotion of bickering to break out. 

hongjoong looks at san with a half pained, half amused expression, knowing that the dimpled boy  will have to readjust to how loud and chaotic the house is all the time. 

“you don’t have to do right now,” hongjoong says, wanting to finish the discussion before the boys notice san is here and lost their shit. “ease her into it. talk to her about it. see if she feels the same way. but let her know you just wanna help her, because i know you do, right?” 

san’s nod is immediate and hongjoong mirrors him, his eyes quickly widening as he looks over the blonde’s broad shoulder. 

he doesn’t even get to turn around before a slew of bodies bump into him, nearly knocking him onto the floor as six large, excited boys are jumping and squealing around him.

“san! you’re finally home!”

you’re nearly two months into your first semester of college by the time you’ve fully adjusted to your new schedule and pace of life.

classes monday, tuesday and thursdays mornings followed by your shift at the cafe during the afternoons. you miss your early morning regulars dearly and don’t know what to do with the 10+ memorized coffee orders still in your brain but you already love school so much. 

you love learning and talking with your professors and meeting the many different people on campus. you’ve even found a small group of friends, two girls who sat next to you and immediately started up a conversation with you.

you were terffied and shy at first but eventually opened up, giggling and sharing your thoughts with them before class started - you even always made sure to be 10 minutes early so you could get in your chats with them. 

unsurprisingly, san had been nothing but happy and supportive for the entire journey. helping you apply and become familiar with the campus while also assuring you everything was gonna work out. 

your days were busy and packed with work and you truly loved it but night was still your favorite. when san would walk through the door with take out or you’d be greeted with the sight of him waiting for you on the couch. 

it really felt as if your life was finally coming together, happy and at peace in a way you never felt before. it was like you finally had some sort of control over what happened to you, long gone the feeling of knots in your stomach or an uncontrollable shake in your hands. 

but when you notice san is a little more quiet than usual today, you feel that foreign feeling make it’s way back into your body. 

“is...everything okay?” you finally grow the confidence to ask, his hand absentmindley rubbing your leg that’s sprawled out on his lap. 

you can tell the question throws him off by the way he snaps his head up to look at you, brows pulled together and his head cocked cutely to the side as his eyes roam your face. 

“’course love, why do you ask?”

“i don’t know,” you hum softly, leaning the side of your head on the couch as you look at him. “i feel like you’re quiet today.”

“just thinking baby,” he tells you, tightening his hold on your leg before looking your way. “how were classes today?”

“good, i have to start my essay soon,” you tell him, something uneasy still pulling at your stomach; you’re not used to san being quiet or so lost in thought, usually the only time he’s silent is during a new episode of your shows.

“you’ll do great on it,” he says encouragingly, the hand on your leg gently calmingly rubbing your skin up and down. “you’re doing really good, you know that?” 

happiness fills you at the thought of making san proud, a small smile on your face that causes one his own to cross his face. his dimples poke out and it reminds you so much of your first meeting, when the sun reflected off of him and you just knew there was something too pure and good about this man.

“thank you,” you smile softly, a faint blush on your cheeks that has san’s heart breaking in his chest even more.

he doesn’t wanna have this conversation tonight but he thinks it would be the best time. bring up maybe not staying over every night to create some more space for you while also allowing you to be more independent. learning how to fill your time with things other than him.

but you’re so happy tonight. 

you’ve been so happy these past few months and he doesn’t wanna be the person to ruin that; it seems, though, you can see something behind his eyes and in his demeanor already, your body wiggling closer to him as your gaze shifts nervously. 

“are you sure you’re okay?” 

he lets out a sigh and you can’t help the way your stomach drops, watching carefully as his face turns contemplative and torn. like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if you’re gonna be able to handle it. 

and that alone is scaring the shit out of you. 

the silence is probably only fifteen seconds but it feels like hours, your eyes staring wide and heart starting to race as you look at him; you don’t know what you did but you had to have done something, right? he wouldn’t just act like this out of nowhere. 

“did i...do something wrong?” you ask meekly, that feeling of fear and panic you haven’t felt in almost a year creeping back. you almost forgot how debilitating this feeling is, fully consuming your body until you feel like you’re about to completely breakdown and crumble. 

the fear and concern on your face immediately makes him frown, shaking his head adamantly as he pulls you closer to him. 

“no, no, no, y/n, of course not,” he assures softly, his lips brushing against your head. 

you feel his calming breaths in your hair, like he already knows from the slight waver in your voice and look on your face that you’re getting worked up and anxious. 

the few moments of silence should make you more anxious but you can only focus on his breathing and the warmth from his body against you, trying to stay calm as you remember that this is san and he would never do or say anything to hurt you. 

“i’ve just been thinking about some things and i wanna talk to you about it,” san says, breaking the silence and immediately making your stomach flip nervously. “it’s nothing bad, baby, i just... you know i always have your best interest in mind, right?”

you swallow the lump growing in your throat as you turn to look at him, the soft look in his eye making you happy as much as it makes you sad. 

because while you love seeing it, how sweet and thoughtful and truly kind he is, you know it’s also there because he thinks you’re about to lose your shit. and you haven’t lost your shit in quite some time. 

“i-i know...” 

he takes your face in his hands when your eyes start to wander, the quiet hum leaving his mouth making you look up at him again. the look in his eyes truly stirs something in you, tears burning your eyes even though you’re not even sure why yet. 

“and you know i’ll never, ever hurt you?”

you nod again, feeling panic deep within your chest at where this conversation seems to be going.

“so what i’m about to suggest, i need you to hear me out, okay?”

he waits until you nod, his stomach sinking at the glossed over look in your eyes before he daringly opens his mouth again. 

tells you that he thinks you living on your own while you start a new chapter of your life will be a good thing for you both. that learning to be independent and on your own will help you immensely in this new part of your life. 

“you’ve been doing so good, y/n, and i’m so proud of you. you’ve started school and you work full time and you’re doing all the things you want to do. but we’re together all the time, baby, and i...i don’t know if that’s healthy, for either of us, you know?”

and you think to the average person, who hasn’t been abused and neglected and spent the last five years in normal, healthy circumstances, they would hear this and understand immediately. 

that being alone and learning how to be on your own is a good, healthy thing that everyone needs to experience. 

but all your brain can hear is he doesn’t wanna be with you anymore. 

he’s tired of your brokenness and tired of looking after you all the time and needs some space from you; and while, you suppose, you can’t blame him, it doesn’t hurt you any less. 

it doesn’t terrify you or upset you any less, even though you know his intentions are good; you can only feel unwanted and unworthy and like your time with someone so much better than you is up. 

“is it...i just...do you not like it here? with me?”

did you not keep it clean enough? did you not cook enough, were the meals too frequently takeout and leftovers? you remember jungkook hated that, demanding the house be spotless and dinner be ready and homemade. 

san would laugh at the question if this weren’t the current situation, a serious talk he’s been dreading having because he knows how you’re gonna take it at first. 

but he loves being here and that’s the problem. 

he would coddle you and love you and protect you for as long as you let him if it were up to him. but he knows that’s not what you need anymore, that you’re both not helping anyone if you continue to live your life in what became too comfortable and safe. 

you deserve comfortable and safe but you also deserve to live happily and freely by yourself. and maybe that’s not his decision to make, he often thinks, but he certainly doesn’t think he’s helping you by enabling you to depend on him. 

“baby, i love it here and i love you and i’ll never leave you until you tell me to,” san says, pressing a kiss to each cheek he prays tears don’t fall on in the next few minutes. “but i want you to be okay, love. i don’t want you to need me every night to sleep or think you need to ask my permission for things that are your choice.”

“is that- is that what this is about? that i asked you if i could go to school?” you ask meekly, the idea of talking back foreign but something you can’t control right now. “or is it because i’m in school?”

because maybe you’ve been too busy. maybe he feels like you neglected him. maybe he just wanted an out and this is it. 

“of course it’s not because you’re in school,” san says, slight outrage in his voice as you even suggest that; he always tries to control his responses to you, knowing you’re dealing with years worth of manipulative behavior and maltreatment, but sometimes it does also get to him. 

he was always supportive of your career and education, even when you were just friends and he admired you from afar.

“how could you think that?”

“because this is so random,” you squeak out, tears breaking through as the knot in your throat grows bigger. “i...i didn’t even know you were feeling this way and now you wanna stop seeing me.”

“i don’t wanna stop seeing you, y/n, when did i say that?” san asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you contemplatively. 

“you said you don’t want to be together all the time...” you mutter out, feeling stupid and childish but not yet truly understanding what he means. you guys don’t fight at all and you’re always smiling and laughing together - isn’t it okay to be together all the time if good things like that are happening?

“y/n, i love you, of course i wanna still see you. but i just mean...living together the way we have these past months. you’ve never been alone. you’ve always depended on someone, right?” 

you think back to your dysfunctional childhood, depending on alcoholic parents who never taught you how to fend for yourself until you fell into the arms of yet another abuser who you depended on even further.

restricted company and meals and communication, even restricted in what you could do outside the walls of your house. 

“yes,” you nod, sniffling as you wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “but they’ve only ever hurt me. you never do.”

that fact makes san’s chest pang with hurt, his own eyes burning with tears now as he thinks about how much pain you’ve endured. 

“i know, baby, and i never will. but i think this’ll be good for us. good for you, mostly, that’s always my mian concern.” 

but you start to wonder how this could possibly be good the second the front door closes a few hours later, leaving you alone in your apartment that now feels far too cold and far too dark and far too empty. 

his lack of presence is noticable immediately and it doesn’t take long for panic and sadness and all that existential dread you once felt so deeply start to come on.

he doesn’t want you, nobody wants you, and the only people who did want you hurt you. 

it’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you cry silently, splashing your face with cold water after your puffy eyes can’t take it anymore. and when you get a good look at yourself in the mirror, tear-stained and blotchy and a big fucking mess, you can’t help but see that same girl who was trapped in that house with jungkook.

weak and afraid and horribly incapable of doing anything right. so similiar to the current state you’re in now, sinking down on the bathroom floor and crying into your hands again. 

this could be about san leaving, you know it has something to do with it, but you’re also crying because you now see just how badly you’re still effected by everything. 

you could be distracted by school and work and san but there’s still so much under the surface that you haven’t come to terms with. 

so much so to the point that even san had to step in and do something about it, him still seeing signs that you’re not okay despite how much everyone in your life is trying with you.

and it makes you feel bad that you have so many supportive, lovely people in your life but still can’t find it in you to feel okay. to not depend on one singlar blonde man to make you feel happy or act as if without him, you’re gonna break.

because you can see he’s tired of it. if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have-

“y/n?” 

his voice coupled with his fist hitting the door causes you to jump, at first thinking it’s a bittersweet trick your deluded little mind is playing on you. but then he knocks again, his sweet murmur of “y/n, please open the door,” causing you to cry out again.

hongjoong told him not to go, that he’d barely been home for an hour before he was already itching to rush back to you. 

but he felt uneasy leaving the way he did in the first place, and then even more so when you didn’t answer his three messages and two facetime calls; he hated thinking that you were crying alone or feeling upset. 

and it’s heartbreakingly evident when you reach up to open the door, curled up on the floor in tears, that that’s exactly how you feel. 

“baby, no,” san hums lowly, immediately dropping to the floor so he can gather you in his lap.

it’s so much like the scene when you ran there after the final incident with jungkook, when you collapsed on the floor and finally told somebody about what you’d been going through. 

what happened?" he asks desperately, voice strained and wavering.

but you can only shake your head and cry. cry for how long you've been dealing with this alone and how you feel trapped and how if you don't tell someone tonight.

"he's gonna kill me," you sob out as you shake your head frantically now, "i-i he's gonna kill me," is all you can repeat through ragged breaths.

san can only act on instinct, sitting down cross-legged and holding his arms out slightly before you crash into him. he shakily inhales when your head rests on his shoulder, sobs muffled by his shirt as he feels tears promptly soak through the material.

but he can only sit there, hand on the back of your head as he rocks you soothingly in his lap back and forth.

he listens to your sobs with a broken heart, tears stinging his own eyes because he had suspected something was going on for months and just sat here and did nothing. and now here you are, broken and bruised and in fear for your life.

"i can't go back there," you cry out, "i-he's gonna-"

"no one is gonna hurt you, anymore," he mumbles lowly in your ear, "i'm not gonna let that happen."

“you’re- you’re gonna leave me,” you whimper into his shirt, the only sound in your bathroom for the past few minuets your crying and his soothing hums. “you’re not gonna wanna deal with me anymore and leave and then i’ll really be alone and i’m so-”

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m not gonna let that happen,” he mumbles in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he presses his lips to your head. he rocks you back and forth so similarly to that night, his hand running up and down your back as he tries to get you to calm down.

“we’re gonna get you help. real help. and we’ll all be here for you whenever you need us. you’re gonna be okay, my love.”

one year later:

you look back at the breakdown in your bathroom and are always surprised that you don’t feel embarrassed.

you think that was the moment when you finally realized how much you’d gone through and how much you really had to sort through. that you could distract yourself all you want and depend on san as much as you felt you needed but you still had things to work through. 

it took you about four therapist consultations to find the right one, eventually finding a sweet older woman who reminded you so much of your boss at the cafe. she listened to you and encouraged you and helped you find so much strength within yourself, you regret not taking your lawyer’s advice sooner about seeing a professional.

you still had bad days, of course, but now you’ve learned how to properly cope with them. cope with the stressors of everyday life, like the shouting of voices and the slamming of doors and san not being by your side 24/7. 

and san, little to your surprise, had done the right thing in saying you needed to learn to be independent.

it scared you at first, living alone and being alone with your thoughts and memories that tried to haunt you every chance they got. but now your life is so full of happy ones that it makes everything a little bit easier; you now love the freedom of living alone and have come to enjoy the peaceful silences of your apartment.

you now have so many things to laugh and feel happy about, like mingi and seonghwa’s obsession with gardening (even though they’ve moved on to vegetables now and have yet to combat the battle with squirrels eating their tomatoes). 

you have school and classes and friends that you made, making straight a’s while also balancing time with your study group, the boys and mrs. kim and your official boyfriend san. 

there are still some days when you wake up and feel a sinking feeling in your stomach that you think might be there forever, a certain smell or certain pain richoetting through your body that will remind you of what you went through and survived. 

but you know that you’ll be able to get through it, not only because you’re strong enough now but because you still have san to lean on - the boy in question currently with his arms wrapped tight around your waist and snoring down your neck. 

you can’t help the small smile on your face as you turn in his hold, your finger reaching out to trace the contours of his face. 

the warm, overwhelming feeling in your chest should scare you but it makes you feel even more happy and content with life, shutting your eyes immediately when his brown eyes meet yours. 

his loud chuckle fills the room before he lips attack your neck, quiet giggles leaving your mouth that only spur the blonde on more. 

“i saw that,” he mumbles playfully, smiling against your skin as your giggles get louder. “good morning, baby.” 

you pull back and smile at the boy staring down at you lovingly, the late-morning sun beaming through your window reminding you so much of the first time you saw him. 

heard his sweet, friendly voice that you immediately trusted and probably fell in love with right there.

"those are coming out really nice!" you hear a voice say from the yard next door. 

you shoot your head to the side to see a young man standing there, probably about your age, eyes kind and dimples poking out of his cheeks as he holds an overflowing white garbage bag.

your lips quirk up ever so slightly, probably being mistaken for your mouth twitching before you give him a tiny bow.

"thank you."

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

[bakugou-tm]

Master Knows Best (18+)

Bakugou x Maid Cafe Reader

plot: You’ve gone almost a full year working at a maid cafe with none of your friends finding out, which is exactly how you liked it; but thanks to a certain friend your beloved hot headed boyfriend found out your secret and planned on teasing you the whole time. In a stubborn attempt to get back at him, you realized exactly what would happen if you disobeyed your master

warnings: suggestive NSFW, swearing, a shit ton of teasing

wc: 5200+

mood song: worst behavior

a/n: I was supposed to post this on valentine’s day but it’s better late than never right? I perhaps may make a part two depending on how this does but I’m also a s s at NSFW so we’ll see. For now just enjoy (especially my fellow brats out there)

You liked things to be simple. You were a simple girl, with a simple life.

Sure you had your secrets, but thanks to your overall simplicity, nobody even bothered to uncover them.

That’s just the way you liked it too. Each different part of your life was separated as they should, for if they intertwined your life would becoming a living nightmare.

You never dreamed that living nightmare would become a reality. Who knew all it would take to crumble the reputation you built up for so long...

was a simple text.

Sweat trickled down the ash blond’s toned arms, his ragged breath becoming more steady as he slumped down against the wall while his friend took a few rounds at the punching bag.

The sound of his phone buzzing beside him didn’t drag him out of his exhausted mindset quite yet, but when his crimson eyes glanced across the words on the screen he felt everything come to a halt.

electric dunce: remember that day time job (l/n) said she had during the weekends? i think i found it bro..

electric dunce: 1 attachment

Bakugou’s red haired training buddy noticed the change in spirit with his blond friend, noticing how his heavy breathing suddenly stopped.

Wiping his gloved hand across his forehead, Kirishima glanced down to his friend only to see Bakugou’s eyebrows knit in a deep focus.

“You uh... You okay bro?” Kirishima questioned with a raised brow, trying to control his own ragged breaths after he attacked the swaying back before him.

Before he could question his friend once more, Bakugou let out a breathy chuckle, one filled with mischief and even excitement if Kirishima listened well enough.

“Training is cut short today shitty hair.”

-

“Come onnnn (L/n), how could you tell us you have a job then not tell us what it is?” The pink haired girl whined as she slid her upper half onto your lap and sighed dramatically.

Giggling slightly your eyes flicked to Kaminari across from you as his lips doubled over into a pout, “The whole point of having a job is so your friends can come crash it!”

“And to make some money dumbo.” You sneered, flicking his forehead gently while glancing down to Mina’s attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Besides, I didn’t want to tell you guys. You forced me to tell you where I went after school or you said you would doxx me.”

Your friends let out a sigh of defeat as Kirishima glanced to your boyfriend beside you, “C’mon Baku-bro not even you know where she works?”

Smirking slightly you placed a gentle palm on your boyfriends cheek and winked to him tauntingly,

“Not even Katsuki~”

Bakugou simply clicked his tongue and smacked your hand away, “I don’t know because I don’t fucking care.”

Oh but he did care. It ate away at him everyday that you refused to reveal where you worked. You claimed it would be “embarrassing” for him to see you working and wearing a uniform but he failed to understand why it would be. He brutally antagonized you all the time and you never bat an eye, why would he care if he saw you wearing a ‘Mini-Mart’ uniform?

You simply hummed at your boyfriend’s denial and leaned against his side.

“Say whatever you need to make you feel better love,” You purred, grinning at his scowl before you looked to your group of friends,

“Because you will never find out where I work, ever.”

-

Bakugou felt like he was in a state of euphoria as he stood before the quaint wooden doors, decorated with all sorts of pastel ribbons and paint.

It was almost as if he was entering the doors of heaven, the ultimate satisfaction of knowing he was about to beat you and your stupid threat.

And better yet, of all the places to find out you worked, it was here?

Oh he was going to enjoy this, even beyond getting revenge.

“Never find out my ass.” Bakugou sneered with a smirk, letting the soft breeze flow through his spiky locks as he tugged open the door into the unknown.

Meanwhile you were attempting to gracefully, yet quickly, get your uniform back on since your break ended in about thirty seconds. You hated how good you had gotten at putting on this stupid uniform, soon enough it would be second nature to you.

Working at a Maid Cafe wasn’t exactly where you planned to end up. When you stumbled onto the small podium in kindergarten to announce your future career, you surely didn’t say “I want to be a server at a Maid Cafe!”

And yet here you were pulling up the thigh high socks to your frilly, bow covered maid dress.

Admittedly when you were searching for jobs, you were surprised to find no luck. Any job that paid well required university years, and any left over job wouldn’t pay enough for your time to walk there.

It wasn’t until your aunt came to you in your troubles and recommended the job of your nightmares.

“My sweetheart why don’t you just work at my niece’s Maid Cafe? You’ll get to work with very sweet young girls about your age, and they pay very well since they have a very diverse clientele!”

Immediately you threw away the idea before you could even process it, the thought of having to serve gross old men and pretend to be excited while doing it didn’t sound appealing, let alone possible.

With that said, that didn’t mean your aunt was going to give up just yet. Without telling you she scheduled an interview for you, telling you if you didn’t show up it would make your family look bad.

Feeling the inevitable guilt throughout the day, you submitted into your aunt’s wishes and at least showed up to the interview.

Who knew? Maybe they would just let you be a janitor or something.

Sure enough they wanted you as a maid, but before you could even deny they offered double what any job had offered you, even the high paying ones.

“We know the job isn’t ideal, which is why we pay so much. A young girl like you would be just perfect here!”

Push came to shove, and somehow you ended up working at the cafe for a year and a half now.

You couldn’t lie, dressing up all cute and getting to hang out with a bunch of sweet girls was pretty fun. It beats mopping an empty grocery store with creepy co-workers.

With that said, the dread of having to deal with pervy customers and the existential fear of one of your friends walking through the door almost outweighed the pros of the job.

Luckily you had been able to escape doom for this long, so what are the odds that would change anytime soon?

-

The sound of the bell charming brought you back to your senses, quickly tying the silk bow behind your back you stumbled out into the break room to see your boss awaiting.

“Phew I thought you almost ditched us (L/n).” Your boss said with a wink.

Rolling your eyes you began walking backwards towards the swinging doors that led to the dining room.

“Have I ever failed you Miss Manager?” You purred with a grin.

Satisfied with her laugh you danced through the double doors, putting on your cute act once again. Only two hours left and you could go home and pig out on what was left in your pantry.

If that’s truly all it took, you didn’t mind turning on your “anime girl” side for a few hours.

Smiling at all the guests you made sure to check on everyone’s table before making your way towards the greeting podium. The doorbell went off so that meant some sort of customer was waiting to be sat.

Giving one last wink to a customer you whipped your head towards the front doors and gave a small bow before looking up.

“Welcome back to Maid Cafe master, would you like me to show you to your se..AHHHH!”

The moment your eyes met the sturdy figure before you, all senses jumped out the window as you screeched and jumped backwards defensively.

How.. How could this happen? This couldn’t be happening. All your intricate planning and anxious working to make sure no one you knew would ever catch you on the job.

And out of all the people in the world... it had to be Katsuki Bakugou.

Your ever so taunting boyfriend.

Sure enough Bakugou had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes glowing with excitement for probably more reasons than you could count.

“Well well well, don’t you look familiar.”

At this point words weren’t even an option in your mind, you couldn’t tell if the cold spike of fear shooting up your spine was worse or the overwhelming heat that flared along your face.

Your little outburst didn’t go unnoticed by the guests and maids, all eyes moved to the two of you as you stumbled over your own words.

“Y..You- I.. but I.. and you! I can’t...”

“(L/n) is something the matter?”

The sound of your boss’ sweet voice from behind you caused you to shriek again as you now jumped to face her.

Feeling your face grow even warmer you avoided eye-contact with her, trying to use what was left of your slowly deflating brain to come up with an excuse to fix this entire mess.

“Yeah princess, is something the matter?”

Between the chilling tone and the pet name you physically shuddered, your head slowly peaking back to the problem at hand.

Bakugou couldn’t help but notice your reaction, sneering cockily as he looked down on you with pride.

“Zip it Bakugou-” 

“Ah ah..” Bakugou started before you could even finish your threat, “I believe you are supposed to refer to me as master.”

If your brain wasn’t broken before, it sure was now. Your internal mix of equally enjoying this and hating this had officially clashed and broken any sense at this point. All you could feel beyond anger at this point was complete and utter embarrassment.

“(L/n) you’re not having any trouble greeting our guest, are you?” Your boss questioned sternly.

You’ve honestly never heard her get so serious with you, given this was far from her angry side, but you hated disappointing your superiors.

Glancing around you still noticed some eyes on you along with your suspicious boss’. At this point there was no escaping the situation, and like hell were you going to give this bastard the satisfaction of your embarrassment.

“N..No ma’am, no trouble at all!” You said back in your sweet work voice, offering the best smile you could muster before twitching back to your smug boyfriend.

“Let me uh... let me show you to your table...” You stuttered out, grabbing a single menu before looking up at your expectant boyfriend’s expression. You knew exactly what the little shit was waiting for, and if you didn’t say it your boss would surely drag you to the back.

“Master.”

Bakugou sighed in dramatic satisfaction, clasping his hands together sarcastically and bending down to your level, “Fucking splendid.”

Gritting your teeth you glared into his crimson orbs before spinning on your heel, plastering the cute smile on your face so your boss could get off your back.

Once she seemed to notice you returned to your old state, she let out a gentle sigh and walked away to serve her tables.

At the very least you felt a bit less tense knowing she wasn’t following you like a hawk, but she was far from the problem at hand.

Quickly b-lining towards a table in the corner, you slammed the menu down and pulled out the chair, offering the most sarcastically pleasant smile you could.

Bakugou gladly took his seat, making sure to drag his hand along the small of your back on the way down. He throughly enjoyed each time you shivered from his touch, or even words.

First you decided to take his order, making sure all eyes were officially off the two of you. Once you decided the coast was clear, you quickly grabbed the collar of his tank top, as you bent down to be eye level with him.

“How did you find out about my job Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted in surprise, catching himself quickly before he smirked back to your fuming expression. Oh how adorable you were when you were mad.

Your thick eyebrows would knit together in a deep focus and your plush lips would pinch into a perfect pout that drove him crazy.

As the blond smugly glanced over your features, his eyes flicked up only to notice other eyes were facing the two of you once again, only this time they only seemed to be on you. On your backside.

The way you were bending down seemed to perfectly expose your backside to the world, and your dumbass was too oblivious with him to even realize it.

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou placed a firm palm on the edge of your spine before shoving you down to your knees so the back of your dress would cover your backside once again.

The action caused a small yelp to escape your lips, you assumed he had done it to embarrass you which made you that much more mad.

“Answer. My. Question.”

Once the ash blond was satisfied with your state and he glared at any that dared to still look at you, he glanced back down to your fiery orbs with an unimpressed look.

Rolling his eyes he slapped your hand away causing you to huff before he shoved the photo Kaminari sent to him.

Glancing over the photo you eyes widened to see a photo of you through the window of the Maid Cafe assisting a customer.

Your cheeks began to glow red again as you worriedly looked up to Bakugou, “You guys actually doxxed me?!”

Bakugou raised a brow and snatched his phone back with a sigh.

“I didn’t, I can’t speak for that stupid dunce but I’ll deal with his reasoning later,” He explained before his dreadful smirk returned as he cupped the edge of your chin, “Back to the elephant in the room, how come you hid such a delicious fucking secret from your master.” 

As much as you would’ve loved this behind closed doors, to be openly embarrassed in public made your head feel like it was going to explode.

“S..Stop acting all smug you idiot!” You snapped, smacking his hand from your chin and standing up straight, “I hid this from you so you wouldn’t act like an egotistical dick.”

At this Bakugou barked out a laugh, the booming sound causing you to jump a bit as he slouched back in his chair, folding his arms with that smug grin.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that my fucking ego is backed up, or have you forgotten doll?”

His piercing red eyes narrowed to your own, the sight making you blush as you jerked your head to the side and huffed.

“Can you order already idiot? I’ve got plenty of other orders to take.”

Bakugou simply smirked and picked up the menu, glancing down the options before shoving it in your arms.

“I’ll get two of the shitty rice bears,” He explained, grinning when he saw you look up with a raised brow, “I’ve got a hungry maid coming home soon waiting to please her master.”

Your confused expression turned into a flushed angry one as you snatched the menu from him and turned on your heel. You didn’t even remember what he asked for but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to hide from the customers so you could collect what dignity you had left.

The moment you brushed by the double doors you let out a sigh of relief as you rested your head against the back wall. Maybe if you closed your eyes and pinched yourself hard enough you would wake up from this horrible nightmare?

You could only imagine the things Bakugou was thinking. Does he think you’re some ditzy pushover maid girl now? Is he texting your friends telling them that you work here? Honestly Kaminari has probably already done that.

It was so nice having the upper hand on him for once, but now that he took every last bit of dignity and laughed in your face, you were doomed.

“Rough shift huh?”

Raising your brows you peaked an eye open to see one of your coworkers with a concerned expression. Standing up straight you fixed a piece of your hair and nodded.

“Yeah I guess you could say that..”

“How come you were acting so weird with that customer (L/n)-chan?” Your manager called from behind, carrying a bunch of plates as she walked beside your coworker, “Is it because he’s crazy hot?”

Folding your arms you let out a huff as you pouted your lips out,

“Try boyfriend.”

Both girls gasped in shock, your boss nearly dropping the plates in her hand as they looked two you in disbelief.

“Wow sorry for calling him hot, I never knew you had a boyfriend (L/n)! And a hunk at that~”

Letting out a slight chuckle, both your eyes fell on your coworker when she spoke up.

“You know this same thing happened to me with my boyfriend,” She spoke while tapping her finger against her cheek in thought, “I didn’t want him finding out about my job because I knew he would make fun of me, then one day he showed up and sure enough started making fun of me.”

Frowning you let out a sigh as you rubbed the side of your face exasperatedly, “My dumb boyfriend is doing that too! What did you end up doing with yours?”

Your coworker grinned as she shrugged.

“I simply fought fire with fire. Since he was making fun of me, I made him eat his words and watch me serve the other customers. He ended up getting so jealous he left!”

The advice she had given you finally brought warmth back to your numb body, you felt a grin rise to your face as you quickly wrapped your arms around your coworker.

“You are a lifesaver woman! I owe you so much for that advice.”

Your coworker simply laughed and hugged you back, happy to see you back in your normal cheerful state.

“Yeah have some fun but don’t ruin the experience for our other guests!” Your boss called out before walking out the door with the plates.

“I should probably get out there too, let me know if you need any help (L/n)-chan.” Your coworker said with a mischievous grin before dancing out the double doors.

Your mind was rushing with ideas, how could you of not thought of this before? Your explosive boyfriend could get jealous from a rock on the street, this would be the perfect pay back for you!

If he was going to come into your workplace and wreak havoc, you would do the same for his inflated ego.

Fixing up your dress you grabbed the two plates and narrowed your eyes towards the dining room.

“Bring it on Bakugou Katsuki.”

-

Oh did Bakugou feel pleased with himself.

Normally he hated skipping out on a workout, but this was worth it.

He couldn’t let the image of your adorable flushed expression and tense body escape his mind. Let alone that maid costume on you was divine on your plush skin.

The fact that you refused to wear a maid costume in the bedroom made it that much better, no wonder you were trying to hide this job from him.

The way the black silk hugged every curve, just tight enough to where your skin was overflowing from the material. And those thighs squeezing out of those adorable thigh highs drove him wild.

If he hadn’t made the best discovery of his life today, he would almost be mad you were strutting around in such a costume for anyone other than himself.

Deciding to wait another day to deal with that, Bakugou simply enjoyed the scenery and awaited for his girlfriend.

Just like clockwork he saw your form dance out of the backroom a bit too peppy. The thought of you “collecting” yourself in the back only made him sneer with a sadistic grin, he would simply break you all over again when you served him the food.

Just as you sauntered over to his table, the ash blond looked you up and down with a smirk, opening his mouth to say something truly condescending until your body turn away from him and towards another table.

“Here’s your panda shaped muffin and honeydew boba masters!” You spoke to the two customers at the table in front of him, “Is there anything else I can get for you my handsome masters?”

Bakugou felt his heart drop at the sound of you calling another living organism your master. Were you doing this on purpose? Is this usually how you talked to the shitty customers here?

His answer was confirmed when a small squeak escaped your lips and you bent down towards the table, your chest surely giving the two guests a show given their cherry lit cheeks as your thumb grazed across one of the customer’s cheeks.

“Silly master, you have some icing on your cheek.” You said with the most divine giggle he had ever heard. Gritting his teeth his entire world froze when you stuck the finger in your mouth and licked the white cream off clean, “No worries, I got it for you~”

The man before you looked like he was going to bust on the spot, his friend watching with his jaw dropped and eyes filled with jealousy.

Smiling sweetly you gave them one last bow, “Let me know if you need anything else masters!”

Just before you danced away from their table you glanced to Bakugou, giving him a small smirk as you looked him up and down with unimpressed eyes before sauntering away, leaving your explosive boyfriend on the verge of a breakdown.

You truly had a death wish. It was the only explanation for your actions. For almost a full hour you kept that act up, leaving the many guests within the cafe speechless and ogling over you. You knew exactly how jealous Bakugou could get, and you knew he hated admitting it.

Of course Bakugou also knew what a little tease you were. He didn’t miss the delight in your glistening eyes each time you taunted him, waiting for the repercussions of his wrath. But this...

This crossed the line of his sanity.

The ash blond tried to wait til your shift was over, he really did. As furious as he was with you, he wasn’t irresponsible enough to make you lose your job. But the moment your finger tips danced along the shoulder of a guest, any bit of restraint the male had left in his body had snapped like a twig.

The sound of him storming up from his table caused the immediate guests around him to look up, his silverware clanking against the pink trimmed plate as he made a direct line towards you.

Unfortunately for you, the scene your boyfriend caused went over your head as you continued to jot down the order from the customers before you. Focusing on your blossom shaped ordering pad you didn’t notice the horrified expressions on the customers before you as the saw an angry Bakugou storming up behind you.

“I’ll get those orders right up for you masters~” You exclaimed with a cute wink as you began to walk off until a firm hand wrapped around your wrist in a vice grip.

Bakugou could have loosened his bit a grip he realized when you let out a small yelp but he had already committed and like hell was he going to let you flirt with another damn customer right before his very eyes.

Your sweet words, gentle touches, suggestive actions... they weren’t meant for him and him only.

Immiedetly you recognized your boyfriend’s sharp hold and tried to tug your hand away so not to make a scene, but the ash blond simple spun your wrist around and pinned it to your back, giving him full control of wherever you walk.

With a squeak he shoved you forward, causing you to stumble over your own feet as he quickly pushed you towards the backroom.

You briefly met gaze with your boss as he shoved you by, your eyes pleading for help as they were filled with regret. Your boss opened her mouth, not sure what to even do.

“E..Excuse me sir? You can’t touch the-”

Before she could even finish her sentence Bakugou flashed a sharp glare to the woman, his crimson orbs thin from lack of patience and absolute fury.

Your boss was smart enough to know your boyfriend was truly about to go feral, for her life and your own she decided it was best to turn away and pretend she saw nothing.

You let out a small pout when you saw her attempt to serve the shocked guests, leaving you to be shoved into the backroom by a surely pent up Bakugou.

Once you reached the back you saw your coworker, the one that had given you such brilliant advice before, shoving a pastry in her mouth as she was on her break. Her eyes first fell on the dark lidded ones of your boyfriend before falling on your pleading fearful eyes.

Her mouth opened, unsure of what to say before closing.

“I’m uh.. gonna take my break outside.” She muttered softly, politely pushing the chair in and offering the best smile she could before she quickly shuffled out the back doors.

Once the room was clear Bakugou let go of your wrist, giving you a chance to stretch your arm back in it’s proper position before the sound of the back door slamming to a close caused you to shriek in surprise.

Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk as you jumped, as angry as he was he loved seeing you so on edge thanks to him. Returning to a serious expression he watched as you turned around, attempting to put on a serious face of your own.

“Bakugou you know I still have thirty minutes left of my shift-”

Trying to speak was hard enough as is with the thick tension in the room, but when the ash blond slammed his hands on either side of you against the wooden break table you let out a shriek and quickly sat back against the ledge attempting to gain some more space between you two.

The action made him chuckle dryly as he looked you up and down.

“You’re still going to act like a fucking brat huh? After the show you just put on?” Bakugou spoke lowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of your costume only swirling more pent up feelings within him, “Someone’s feeling spunky today?”

You bit at the corner of your lip, swallowing what left of saliva was in your dry mouth as you tried terribly to avoid eye contact.

“Hiding such a naughty job from me, and then when I catch you red handed this is the treatment I get?” Bakugou hisses with clenched fists, “You should’ve been at my fucking heel all day for keeping such a delicious lie from me and yet you taunt me like you’re the one in charge?”

His harsh words made heat rise to your cheeks as you looked down at your frilly dress, trying to find anything to look at besides his face. Surely you knew that wasn’t going to pass with him.

“Look at me when I fucking speak to you brat.” Bakugou growled, his eyes narrowing when he saw your lips pinch together stubbornly.

Letting out an annoyed sigh he grabbed your wrist roughly before shoving you back against the thin wall and grabbing your jaw harshly shoving it against the wall with a hard knock, forcing your eyes to meet.

The sight of your cheeks being squished together by his large palms and your wide glassy eyes forced to look into his own, he couldn’t hide his smug smirk as he felt you lightly tremor beneath him.

“Much better doll.” Bakugou cooed, voice laced with sarcasm as you both knew the next chain of events were about to get quite violent.

“Now, I was planning on patiently waiting for you to get off so we could take this conversation in private...” Bakugou spoke, eyes narrowing down to yours as he let out a sinister laugh, “Hell I even bought you a treat, I’m such a generous fucking boyfriend aren’t I?”

Your breathing was ragged as you stared up into his crimson eyes, your brain was so fogged by the situation that you hadn’t even realized what he asked until his grip on your jaw tightened.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

Blinking back to reality you nodded deserpatly, not daring to look away from his gaze as you let out a slight whimper that shot directly to his pants.

“Good.” Bakugou said with a dark smile before continuing on, “But now I cannot go along with that generous plan because you can’t go two seconds without acting like a fucking slut.”

The filthy words spewing from his lips caused your face to grow warm, the entire situation already had your silk underwear drenched, but his words alone caused you to brush your plump thighs together desperately.

Your actions didn’t go unnoticed by the ash blond as he roughly shoved a knee between your legs causing a whine to escape your lips when he refused to put any friction on your aching core.

“Even now you can’t help but act like a brainless bitch in heat.” Bakugou sneered with a grin, his hand on your jaw lowering to now grip on your neck gently so not to cut off any air.

“Because you’ve disobeyed me multiple times today, I’m going to have to set you straight right here in public so you know who truly has the power here.”

Your mouth opened to rebuttal as your eyes widened at his idea, but his hand only gripped tighter around your throat causing the words shove back down your throat.

“And then,” Bakugou hissed, “If you perform like a good little maid, I may give you what you want when we get home. Maybe.”

You let out a shaky breath as he narrowed his eyes down to you, trying to read what you were feeling right now.

“Now you’re going to be my good little slutty maid and serve me until I’m satisfied, you fucking got that?”

As Bakugou’s grip on your neck loosened, your posture relaxed a bit as you nodded to his question, only for the grip to return as he growled down to you.

“Try again.”

Biting your lip your thighs attempted to squeeze against his knee for any sort of friction at all as any conscious thought was clouded with ashamed lust for the man before you.

“Y..Yes master.”

[liloelsagranger]

Night shift - finally a new Rocketshipping-fanfiction

My dear friends,

it’s been a while since I last posted an entry. Let me tell you why and what, besides Covid-19, made me pause from publishing fanfictions over the last couple of months. Of course, Switzerland was very affected by the pandemic and still is today. We had numerous lock-downs or as Swiss people call it “slow downs”. My mother got very sick last year, I almost lost her. The doctors said she would only live two or three more days, but my mom is a fighter. She had to stay at the hospital for months, she endured countless medical examinations, had to take meds and slowly learned to live again. I’m so proud of my mother that she was strong and determined to get better. When she turned back home, I started to take care of her and I hate to leave her on her own, even if we’re talking about half an hour or less. Right now, she’s doing quite good, actually, we’re on vacation and she makes a great effort to participate in life in Italy. She’s my role-model! She will never be the same as before, but she won’t give up, she wakes up every morning to make progress. I prayed for her and her well-being, I prayed every single night she might get another chance and now we’re here at the beach and dining in fancy restaurants. It’s been a horrible year for everyone, a year full of sorrow, tears and desperation, a year where I was constantly afraid, the hospital would call me with some bad news, but she did it! She survived and she fights for her life! So proud! Good news is: I passed my doctoral exams and I’m officially allowed to call myself Dr. phil. des. Melanie C. but that won’t ever stop me from loving Team Rocket so here it is - a brand new Rocketshipping-fanfiction for you guys. LOVE YOU! Night shift

Chapter 1:

It was past ten o’clock when that miserable looking guy entered the diner. He inconspicuously sat down in the farthest corner of the café and immediately hid his face behind the menu card. Nevertheless, Jessie the waitress could make out the pathetic expression on his face, how he was cowering like a whipped dog. She had seen quite a bit in this diner. Drunks, thugs, addicts and other needy people who asked for a sympathetic ear, compassion and understanding, but that guy was different. He suffered terribly, but did not dare to communicate, instead he hid from the world so as not to attract attention and quietly endure his fate. Jessie had to do something about it. Of course, she didn’t want to play the Good Samaritan. She knew the tricks of the men who entered this diner. Most of the time, they told the waitress tall tales, hoping to be comforted, whatever they meant by that. But this young man did not make a shady impressionHe was well dressed, looked well-groomed, and Jessie was especially struck by his bright emerald green eyes, the only thing in his face that had not yet been veiled by grief and sorrow. She decided to do something about his displeasure.

“Did you have a rough day?” she asked while disinfecting the table.

He looked briefly into her eyes and nodded. “That’s one way to put it,” he answered, the gaze immediately lowered again.

This would be a taciturn conversation, but Jessie didn’t give up easily, she was a natural at making even rocks talk.

“Listen! No matter what happened, I’ve seen or heard some things. If I can help you in any way, my name is Jessie and I’m in charge of this table today. Let me just get the gum out from under your seat and get you a cold drink. What would you like?” She pulled a spatula from her apron and rubbed away the remains of the spoiled brats that marred her diner.

‘Wow,’ the young man thought to himself. ‘A strong, self-confident woman who lends a hand herself and who’s not above cleaning up dirt.’ Their eyes met briefly, and he forced a wry smile.

“You know, kid. You can’t rely on anyone. If you want to get everything done, do it yourself and don’t trust anyone. This world doesn’t give you anything for granted!” She briefly wiped the back of his chair before disappearing behind the counter and pouring the young man an ice-cold Coke.

“I have rarely seen you so concerned about a customer. Normally you show yourself aloof and only take the order, so as not to get involved in embarrassing conversations. Must be a really great pike, this pathetic creature in the far corner. Could it be that you’ve got a tiny crush on this guy?” For Eddy, teasing his best friend was the greatest pleasure. He didn’t know her like that. Jessie usually resisted any kind of small talk. This was due to her dark past, when she had repeatedly fallen for advances from men who were never looking for a steady relationship, but for a quick fix. Eddy had witnessed this bad time of his friend, how her heart was broken, how she was badly played with, and how she was simply dropped like a hot potato. Jack was the worst example of them all. While Jessie was already hearing the wedding bells ringing, he was making love to the women of the Strip and deceiving Jessie night after night with other broads. Jessie was devastated when she found out Jack was cheating on her. She was furious, not even at her lying boyfriend, but at herself for having been so stupid as to trust a man.

Jessie gave Eddy a light pat on the head. “Don’t be silly! That time is over. I can take care of myself, I don’t need male support for that. I’m a big girl, I make my own dough, and I keep my head above water pretty well. No, not a chance, I’ve sworn off flirting.” Nevertheless, she caught herself as her gaze wandered to the young man in the corner. “Oh yes, this time is definitely over,” Eddy smirked.

“Jessie, could you bring us a side of fries, please?” Misty’s order echoed throughout the hall. The twenty-year old waved her hands. She was used to speaking loudly, almost shouting, to attract guests to her daily water Pokémon show. Sometimes she walked up and down the streets of the Strip all day in the blazing hot sun, trying to win people for her underwater attraction. As an excellent student, she could have taught at any college, but she had decided early on to get into show business and make her living doing what she really loved, joined by Dewgong and Starmie. Her parents had not agreed with this decision at all, it was wasted talent, they had claimed, and had summarily turned Misty out the door. Since then, she had been struggling through life on her own, but could always count on Jess, the diner and her two best friends, Ash and Brock, young people who were also not favoured by fate.

“Temper your voice, twerp!” Jessie couldn’t help but grin. She spread the ketchup bottles around the table, hoping Ash wouldn’t spill on himself and the diner again. His constant companion Pikachu immediately hopped on his shoulder, grabbed a fry and popped it in his mouth. Ash and his Pokémon were carnies. He had trained his friend well and attracted many spectators with his performance. Most of them felt sorry for the guy and tipped generously. That’s why Ash was able to invite his friends to the diner every night, a place that gave them hope where they could experience security. They were convinced that nothing would ever disturb this idyll and that fate, for better or worse, had taken its course.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Brock wanted to know. He had barely sold chocolate and roses tonight. The others held back, but they were certain that their friend was just too pushy with women and that’s why he only collected rejections instead of green bills.

“I’ve never seen him here before. Must be from another area. I can’t tell you for the life of me why he’s wearing a suit at theses temperatures, he looks pretty pathetic to me anyways,” Jessie replied.

“Maybe his car has stalled,” Ash suggested, “and now he was forced to wander through the desert until the tasty aromas from your diner brought him back from his delirium.”

“Or,” Brock interfered, “he had to flee his own wedding because his wife is a real pain in the ass, unlike our sweet Misty,” Brock oohed at his friend. “Forget it, Brock! You and me, this will never happen!” She gave him a gentle poke.

“Enough now with your naïve speculations! Just let him enjoy his drink. We’re closing soon, so get going,” Jessie dismissed their absurd ideas with a wave of her hand, but at this point no one knew how right Brock was.

Dark thoughts hunted the young man. He knew what he would face at home if he was late. Beatings, torture, rebuke, harassment, were just a few words to describe his failed relationship. Unconsciously, he stroked his scarred arms.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Jessie pulled him out of the maelstrom of bad thoughts, of course she had noticed the wounds, but maybe he had gotten those injuries at work. The young man rummaged some coins out of his pants and let them jingle on the table. “Is that enough for a cheese sandwich?” Jessie hated small change, but she would make an exception for him. A friendly smile, a quick nod, and she passed on the order.

“Something’s wrong with this guy,” she whispered to Eddy. “He’s scarred, bruised and pays with penny coins. Possibly a vagrant.” Eddy couldn’t help but grin. “That guy’s been keeping you busy all night, Jess. What’s the matter with you? Are you getting weak?”

The young man could not overhear the conversation between the waiters, but he was sure they were talking about him. He sure made a rather frightening impression, but that was a private matter and not something you shared with a waitress in a diner.

His gaze drifted to the daily paper, which had two faces emblazoned on it: Butch and Cassidy. He had never heard of this odd couple, but according to the news, theses two were causing quite a stir and were terrifying the Strip.

“Oh, so you’ve already spotted them, those two knuckleheads! They keep the Strip in suspense, and heads roll when the taxes don’t add up,” Jessie served him the cheese sandwich and gave him a slight smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” He thanked her and took a hearty bite of his dinner.

The last half hour flew by and the remaining guests left the diner to spend the night on the Strip, as very few had a roof over their heads. Jessie set about cleaning up and Eddy checked the register.

The young man stood up and made his way towards the door. But before he left the diner, he glanced back at Jessie for a moment. A sigh escaped him. What if…?

Jessie returned his gaze and watched him go until the young man disappeared. She walked right up to his table and found a little note on the receipt.

“Thanks for treating me like a human being, James.” 

[tobiosmilktea]

high fidelity — kuroo tetsurou

3.9k words | genre: fluff | warning/s: terrible writers block writing, ooc kuroo cause i suck | pairing: kuroo x gn!reader

↪︎ in which being the only two employees at a small record store meant that you and kuroo worked together almost every day. and not a single day has passed that you didn’t find your coworker absolutely insufferable. you think he’s annoying, and he thinks you’re cute. in reality, kuroo just sucks at flirting.

a/n: is the plot a bit of a mess? lowkey yeah, but ykw that’s okay cause i needed something stupid to write. this was also a bit self-indulgent cause homegirl just got employed at a record store (yay)

fucking tired—is what you would tell kuroo in the means of his grand intervention to mess with his favorite coworker of all time. granted, you were his only coworker in the infamously meager record store down some random alleyway in downtown tokyo.

those six words were how you would describe how you felt at that very moment. busy with doing what you were employed on doing rather than sitting around and snacking on some trail mix. one would assume that working at a rather small establishment meant little to no work, especially in hours where it was slow with no customers roaming up and down the aisles, but god were you wrong. you were the only one on the shift actually busting your ass off on the floor and at the register while all kuroo does is change the music playing on the store’s overhead speakers and hangs out.

sure, he does do his fair share of work here and there. occasionally he would even take over most of the manual labor of carrying all the new shipments of heavy vinyl records for the sake of courtesy, but at the end of the day, it was always you who would have to restock the displays every time.

so much for being a gentleman.

your feet hurt, your legs ached, your arms were sore. you were just glad that kuroo finally decided to get his ass up and actually walk around for once. he probably wasn’t planning on doing any work, simply just meandering through the aisles of vinyl just to see what to buy next with his 20% off employee discount. you honestly couldn’t care less. what you did care about was that the stool behind the cash register (aka the only place to sit inside the entire building) was finally free.

you settled yourself behind the counter, a sigh escaping your lips as your chin rested atop the palm of your hand.

you finally had a chance to rest. yet despite taking this rare opportunity, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit bored now that the store was practically deserted. then again, what did you expect from working at a small business? not to mention, it’s the twenty-first century and all forms of media was digitized and easily accessible by a single internet search. there were, however, a few old souls out there, still in love with the idea of having a physical copy of their favorite artist’s work.

you were easily one of those people.

there was something so endearing listening to strangers talk about their love for music—it’s why you started working here at TRAX in the first place as a sorry excuse to surround yourself with the physical embodiments of the best invention mankind has ever made. hell, you still had the old walkman that your father gave to you. it was from the 90s with its gray plastic chipping at the corners and scratched-off lettering. you even had his old cassette tapes always in your bag whenever you go out.

regardless, the quietness of the store wasn’t at all bad at times. if anything, you were fortunate that kuroo wasn’t annoying the shit out of you like he normally does—poking at your cheeks and teasing you to no end. in fact, it was a nice break from the overstimulation of the occasional busy hours that come out of the blue. from old men mansplaining how record players work to annoying middle schoolers trying to blast their terrible soundcloud songs on the store’s bluetooth speakers. perhaps the slow hours were a godsend.

it was absolute hell trying to chase those annoying thirteen-year-olds out of the store with the help of kuroo. causing a ruckus or not, the situation was a bit funny at the end. it was one of those rare moments you and kuroo shared a genuine laugh together.

a sigh escapes your lips then as you take out your walkman, plugging in the old headphones that came with it. the black, plastic ones with thin muffs whose wires tangle no matter how much you try not to. you place them over your ears.

today’s mood was classic 80s rock, something along the lines of queen, guns n’ roses, and journey beating into your ears as you let your eyelids rest for a few seconds.

however, your means to relax was immediately shut down when a hand snatches your headphones off of your ears.

“ouch,” you groan as the plastic of the headset scratched at your temple. you look over your shoulder at your coworker with confusion plastered all over your face. “what was that for?”

kuroo blinks with a sly smile on his face, “those things still exist?”

you flick him a look, “what do you want?”

“you don’t get paid to sleep on the job, you know.” kuroo gives you a pointed look as he hands you back your headphones.

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. the audacity. “i get paid by the hour and the store is literally empty right now,” you defend as you click your walkman on pause, “besides, aren’t you the one slacking all the time?”

“only when the boss isn’t around,” he hums.

“the boss is never around,” you huff.

“speaking of an empty store,” kuroo starts once again, watching you wrap the thin headphone wires around the body of your walkman. “d’you got any spare change?”

your eyes peer at him slightly, “what for?”

“to get a drink from the vending machines down the street, obviously.” replied kuroo.

yet another sigh left your lips, licking at its dryness as you reached into your pocket to reveal a few fifty-yen coins. it wasn’t much, but it wasn’t like anything from the vending machines in the city was that expensive. just anything to get him off your back again for peace of mind. “get me a one too while you’re at it,” you mutter, tossing the coins into his palm.

“why don’t you just come with me?” he asks, curious.

you shake your head, “i can’t leave the store unattended.”

kuroo clicks his tongue, feigning himself from rolling his eyes and just tugging you along with him. “come on, it’s not like there are any customers.” he gestures onto the barren floor as if its emptiness wasn’t already obvious enough.

“do i have to?” you groan. you just got comfortable and you weren’t exactly in the mood to walk all the way down the street either.

“yes,” he said sternly, hoping that it was enough to sway you, but surprise surprise! it didn’t. his unsuccessful (and oddly pitiful) attempt at convincing you to come with him caused the corners of kuroo’s lips to dip into a slight pout.

no matter how annoying your coworker was, thinking he wasn’t at all cute or the least bit attractive was a lie. when you look at kuroo, you’re not entirely sure what it was about him that made your heart skip a few beats despite your brain thinking the opposite. was it his sleek obsidian hair that was always styled perfectly? perhaps it was his eyes that were so pretty that if you looked at him for longer than a few seconds, you would be entranced? or maybe it was his witty charm that despite being annoying, you still found his presence nice to be around?

whatever it was, you hated to think there was even the slightest possibility that you liked kuroo more than you would like to admit. and the worst part of it all? perhaps you did like him more than a friend.

and that was the biggest problem.

how annoying, you think.

“pretty please,” he begged, his warm hands suddenly finding yours in the midst of your internalized dilemma and pulling you out of your thoughts.

the action catches you off guard as you snatch your hands back from his abrupt contact. eyes wide and heart beating heavy, you gulped when you noticed how close he was to you then. the action of you pulling away from him only brought kuroo closer like some odd twist in fate.

your thoughts pondered a bit as you looked up at him, still patiently waiting for an answer as he gives you a comforting smile. perhaps kuroo stepped a bit out of line this time, and there’s no doubt he feels a bit bad about it. he was about to pull away and apologize but after your thoughts spiraled for a few seconds you gave in with a nod.

“fine,” you say, lifting yourself off the stool as kuroo steps away from you with a grin. you follow him around the counter, taking your walkman with you as you pass it.

you just hoped no one came by while you two were out. the last thing you wanted to do was get fired all because your annoyingly handsome coworker wanted to get a mid-afternoon beverage.

your shoes muffled gently against the store’s floor—tap, tap, tapping in some form of patterned unison as you and kuroo left the building.

the backroads of downtown were quiet. considerably so compared to the main streets as there was nothing but tweeting birds, whistling cicadas, and an occasional bicycler whizzing by. it was such a nice day, perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to go out after all.

there was something incredibly calming about afternoon strolls down the street, feeling the rays of sunlight beaming down on your face as you further melted into an earth-smearing mood while you unpaused your walkman.

your headphones laid around your neck with the volume set on max this time just so kuroo could listen in. the corner of his lip quirked up a bit as you did so. it was like a nod of approval within a minuscule gesture. then again, you and kuroo always had a similar taste in music—messy and all over the place, but the classics are where you and he truly had the most in common.

the walk there was short and quiet. usually kuroo doesn’t mind being the one to strike up a conversation, but right now, it was as if he was trying to savor something at the moment that you couldn’t really pinpoint.

upon arriving at the rows of vending machines, kuroo slips in a few coins before pressing one of the buttons. he opted for a calpico, watching the can fall from behind the glass before bending down to pick it up. kuroo doesn’t even give you a look before he puts in the rest of your change, let alone ask what you wanted. the boy presses on the button right below a matcha drink—the exact one you were planning on getting.

he bends down when the drink dispenses and hands it to you on beat with the music emitting from your headphones.

“thank you,” you say, a bit dumbfounded as you opened up the can.

the slight confusion was evident on your face as kuroo couldn’t help but find your curiosity absolutely adorable. “i always see you with that drink whenever you come in for work,” he explains, chuckling as he takes a sip from his own. “assumed you liked it a lot.”

you couldn’t help but blush at his words, feeling your heartstrings suddenly tug at the thought that he knows you enough, let alone care to even remember such a minor detail. letting out a shaky breath that you hoped was drowned out by the music, you lamely attempted to hide the crimson red hues on your cheeks as you take a drink.

“i’m surprised you’d even remember something so insignificant about me,” you mutter as you two walk back to the store, yet this time your pace slowed along with his.

it seemed as if you weren’t the only one wanting to spend a little more time like this.

“i mean, it’s you.” kuroo replied, fingers nervously fiddling. “you are my favorite coworker after all.”

which wasn’t at all a lie. it was true. you were his favorite, but it was nothing more than a panicked and questionable explanation in the means of nonchalance. he couldn’t exactly expose himself out of the blue ever since you two talked about what you looked for in a partner. he recalled your words of wanting to find someone who cares about you and can remember every detail about you regardless of what it was. and much of his dismay of explaining his type to be the exact same of your own traits and characteristics, his sorry excuse of casually flirting completely flew over your head.

and if he’s coming to think of it now, all of kuroo’s sorry excuses of flirting probably went over your head. he mentally faced palmed himself. god, you probably thought he was the most irritating guy on the planet.

yet to his rapidly beating heart, you laughed, practically beaming at him. kuroo swears you could literally send him into cardiac arrest. “i’m your only coworker, idiot.” you tease before taking another sip.

he grins.

“gives me an even better reason to care then,” he hums, pulling the door to the store open just to be met with a thunderous shout.

you two were met with the owner of TRAX record store aka your boss. the short, pudgy old man with a receding hairline and a scowl on his face stood by the counter, arms crossed over each other like a disappointed parent.

“where have you two been?” he grunts, his familiar adenoidal and croaky voice ripping through your eardrums as you hurried to pause your walkman. “leaving the store unattended just to get drinks? you two are lucky i got here when i did because a customer just came by!”

your lips purse together nervously as the grip around your can tightened. kuroo notices your unease, giving you an apologetic look. he turns to face igarashi, your boss, “sorry sir, that’s my bad. i was the one who convinced (y/n) to come with me even after they said no.”

“oh really?” your boss tested. his hand came up to his chin to scratch the few strands of beard hair he even had. he scoffs, “of course it is.”

your neck swivels up towards kuroo as guilt melted into your bloodstream. knowing igarashi, he wasn’t the type to lay easy on simple mistakes. it was the only reason why you were glad he wasn’t here often in the first place knowing that he was like a ruthless hawk with eyes that followed you everywhere.

“it’s not entirely his fault, sir. i knew better but i still decided to go.” you muttered, refusing to look kuroo in the eye as he looks at you surprised.

igarashi lets out a huff as his eyes closed for a few seconds, “my therapist told me to take deep breaths whenever i feel as if i am about to lash out,” he explains before pulling himself together. he opens his eyes, tone much calmer now but the words were still like venom. “since you two were at least truthful about it, i will let it go this time, but know it won’t be the next time around. alright?”

you and kuroo nod, “yessir.”

“good. now, i want this place spotless by the time i come back.” with that your boss disappears into the back where he would be for the rest of the night–not helping at all. he stays in the backroom just to nap and to get away from his own unhappy marriage. you just hoped he stayed there until the end of your shift.

with your pulse calming, you took a sip of your matcha drink out of comfort, finishing all of its contents before throwing it into the trash bin. kuroo does the same thing, this time out of the fear of getting in trouble again as for the first time in a long time, you hear him ask you, “should we get to work then?”

you almost wanted to laugh. you were oddly giddy about working alongside him rather than vexed, nodding in response. both of you grab one of the grates of newly shipped records from behind the counter, ready to be put on display as you and kuroo worked down the same aisle.

with your walkman still on hand and your headphones wrapped around your head, you decided to play the cassette tape again just to ease the underlying awkwardness that was still in the air.

when you paused your walkman earlier, it stopped near the beginning of good old fashioned lover boy by queen. and the moment freddie mercury starts vocalizing, you could practically feel the ice around the two of you melt, heads bobbing to the beat as you two worked your way down the jazz aisle.

it went like this for the next hour. songs ranging from artist to artist, humming lightly to the beat of every drum. usually, kuroo wouldn’t last two minutes without complaining about doing work, but for once he didn’t mind knowing that you’re right next to him, mumbling the lyrics together in incoherent unison. if he knew working with you was going to be like this, he wouldn’t have been such a slacker after all. you could honestly say the same thing.

the cassette tape pulls to a stop, reaching the end of its duration as you and kuroo reach the bottom of the crate of vinyl records. as you reach inside to take out the last few albums, a gasp escapes you as your eyes fall onto one of the records. it was one that you have been dying to get for years now.

you put your walkman and headphone set down, grabbing the album.

“no way,” you grinned, capturing kuroo’s attention as he looks over at you curiously. “look, look!”

“tears for fears?” he says as a small switch flickers in his brain. “isn’t that your favorite 80s album?”

you nod, happy to think he even remembered that about you as you rush over to the cash register. you buy the album without a moment of hesitation, already freeing it from its plastic wrap as you reach kuroo again. you open the cover, beaming at its beautiful design. you couldn’t wait until you got home to listen to it.

at the end of every other row, there was a record player display that customers were able to use. taking out the delicate vinyl, you carefully placed it on the player’s mat with delicate fingers. you pick up the needle, hovering it over the edge of the record before placing it down gently.

on either side of the record player, there were hooks to hold headphones. each of which was connected to the machine as you quickly pull kuroo over. taking the headsets from the hooks, you put one of the pairs on before placing the other over kuroo’s ears, tiptoeing just to reach his height. almost immediately one of the most iconic songs of the decade stream into his ears. it was everybody wants to rule the world—one of your favorite songs.

you two stood there in silence, listening to the song’s nostalgic beats as your bodies faced each other. while you were looking over at the spinning black vinyl, kuroo eyes fell on you.

there was absolutely nothing in his wake to be able to take his admiration away as this, this beaming expression on your face had something special about it. it was as if his entire world was right in front of him, just an arms reach away.

his heart couldn’t slow for a minute as he could practically hear it over the music playing in his headphones. his breath gave way then, at the moment you turned to look back up at him with glowing eyes as if you struck gold. you consider yourself lucky being able to get your hands on such a rare vinyl, but kuroo considered himself the winner as he had you.

“do you like this song?” you asked him curiously, ignoring the way your heart started beating rapidly from the way he was looking at you with such care and admiration.

you were so close, you were literally right there. all of kuroo’s emotions that battered onto him like a cumbersome downpour can be relieved if he were to just say the words. a simple phrase, three short words, and a heavy heart beat. ready to leave his tongue and all would be done.

come on, just say it!

“I like you,” he says out of the blue, but his voice was a bit muffled due to the headphones.

your eyebrows furrow slightly, mouth suddenly running dry as your eyes widen.

did he just say what you think he just said?

you are not entirely sure what he said considering his words were partially drowned out by the music. you wanted to think that he did say the words of the impossible, but you couldn’t be so sure of yourself.

“sorry, what did you say?”

kuroo’s hands wrap around your headset, pulling them off of your ears and placing them around your neck. “i said i like you and i wanted to know if you wanted to go out sometime!” he says ratherly loudly. his headphones were still on him blasting tears for fears.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the back of your hand coming up to cover your reddening cheeks. warmth surrounded your heart, like a hug that squeezed at your chest in the most comforting way possible. you raise your hands up, cupping around the shell of his headphones as you pull them off of kuroo.

“you’re so loud,” you mutter.

as if fate decided to push you into the unknown with a strange burst of confidence within you, you got up on your tiptoes and leaned it. pressing your lips against his, soft and light, your skin ignited ablaze.

in a mere moment of serendipity just to test out the waters, you were pulled in deeper, mind blurring in satisfaction. yet it was nothing more than temporary as the sound of infamous footsteps gradually got louder and louder. panicked, you pull away quickly just seconds before igarashi emerges from the aisles, staring bullet holes into you and kuroo.

“i suppose you two are working?”

you nod, pulling your wrists out of kuroo’s grasp.

kuroo quickly answers, “we are, don’t worry.”

your boss lets out a suspicious hum as he gives you two one last look. he turns back around again, disappearing into the back.

a sigh of relief leaves you as you turn back towards the boy in front of you. he still waited for an answer, almost desperate to know as his eyes searched for an answer.

grinning, you pause the record player and kuroo watches it spin to a slow stop. “you’re an idiot,” you say with a laugh.

kuroo doesn’t seem to care at that moment, if anything he was just glad there were no one else was around. his hands wrap around yours again, “well, is that a yes or a no?”

“so that kiss wasn’t obvious enough for you?”

liking someone you found annoying was impossible, but liking your annoying coworker? now, that was a different story.

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @milktyama @anejuuuuoy

[atc74]

Eye of the Beholder

Warnings: Poor body image (?), slight angst, a little envy, a lot of fluff, and implied sexy times

Summary: Jensen is feeling less confident in himself lately and you think you know why. He has always been there for you, now you just need to show your husband he has no reason to be. 

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1470

Written for: @breakthezone​ first quarter challenge, which was to choose one of two prompts. Mine is bolded below. 

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches​, cause she is the best

A/N: So you know the pictures, the spread, the article in THAT magazine, featuring that beautiful soul, and that would cause any man to think less of himself, but I thought, what would go through Jensen’s head and how would I help him through it. 

Like Jensen’s Warmth? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

The cold snowy mountains were a stark contrast to the warm flatland of their home state, but Y/N was loving the quietness and solace of the northeast. Y/N pulled into the snow-covered driveway and started unloading the groceries. She planned accordingly and for weeks at a time; they didn’t have many delivery options out there. 

“Honey, I’m home! What do you say you come help me carry in and put away all this food and I make you a nice, juicy porterhouse for dinner?” Y/N called from the kitchen as she dropped the load on the counter. “Honey? Jay?” The house was mostly silent but then she heard it. The distinct smack of fists and feet hitting the heavy bag Jensen installed in the home gym. She sighed knowing this was the third day in a row Jensen had spent hours in the gym, working out until he was ready to drop. 

Y/N brought in the rest of the bags, stored the food, and changed her clothes. If she was going to join him in the gym, at least she could participate. It wasn’t like it was a hardship watching her husband in only a pair of shorts, his freckled skin dripping with sweat. 

She brought fresh water with her, setting it on the weight bench. He was breathing heavy, sweating, and red-faced. Jensen was not out of shape by any means, but he somehow had gotten it in his head that he needed to get into better shape. Maybe it was the pressure of becoming Soldier Boy, maybe it was that he was approaching his “mid-forties”, it could have been a few things, but Y/N thought she knew exactly what had prompted this new obsession. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, babe,” he rasped, his breaths heavy with exertion, his hair soaking. “Just a few more minutes.” He landed another two punch kick combo. 

“Jay, you have got to take a break. You can’t keep going like this, hours a day, day after day,” Y/N pleaded with him. “This is enough for today.” 

“Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re right.” He stopped, hugging the bag tightly, holding on as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Go shower, I’ll get dinner started, okay?” Y/N smiled, kissing him softly. 

“You got it. I’m pretty sure I reek anyway.” 

Leafy greens and brightly colored vegetables covered the kitchen island as Y/N chopped and sliced away. The cuts of meat were sitting out to warm up before grilling, and a nice bottle of a full-bodied red was breathing on the table. Jensen emerged from the hallway leading from their bedroom about thirty minutes later, looking a little worse for the wear. He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, swiping a handful of peppers, too. 

“I saw that mister,” she smiled, leaning into his touch. “But I’m gonna let it slide just ‘cause you smell nice.” 

“Better than before?” 

“Oh, way better,” she laughed, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

“Nothing, babe. Just trying to stay in shape. I gotta get in that custom suit in a couple of weeks, and I ain’t getting any younger.” Jensen looked down, running a hand over his face, scratching at his beard. 

“That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah, just running isn’t gonna cut anymore. I have to keep up.” 

“Keep up with…?”

Jensen pretended he didn’t hear Y/N as he started helping with the salad. If he ignored the question, maybe she would let it go. It seemed to be working, for now, so he went with it, and continued to help her with dinner. 

“Jay, these look perfect!” Y/N gushed as she cut into the steak. She placed the bite in her mouth, the flavor exploding, and she moaned around it. “Oh my god, it's practically melting in my mouth!” 

“You made it easy with a superb cut of meat, babe,” Jensen shrugged, digging into his salad and grilled vegetables. 

All through dinner, Y/N noticed how he barely touched his meat or wine, but took extra helpings of the healthy stuff. She decided she would let it go, wanting to enjoy their meal, but soon enough, the dishes were cleared and leftovers stored. 

“Jay?” Y/N asked, rinsing the plate in her hand before handing it to her husband. “Can I ask you something?”

“Babe, you can ask me anything, you know that.” 

“And promise me you won’t get mad?” 

“I won’t get mad, but now I am a little suspicious,” Jensen raised one eyebrow, looking over at his wife. 

“Does your new workout regimen have anything to do with Jared’s spread in Men’s Health?” 

“No.” Jensen protested immediately. 

“Jay…” 

“Maybe,” he sighed, throwing the towel on the counter, then he turned, leaning against it. “Am I...soft?”

“Soft? I think you are the kindest, most generous, loving man I’ve ever known,” Y/N replied honestly. “I am lucky I found you and even luckier that you love me.” 

“Well, thank you for that, babe, but I was asking about my physical appearance,” Jensen hung his head, his voice getting quieter as he talked. “Do I have a ‘dad bod’?” 

“Jensen Ross Ackles, you listen to me right now. You have never looked better and you are in the best shape of your life. You just completed a 15 year run on the most successful sci-fi television show in history, you are stepping into an iconic role that you were hand-picked for, and if a ‘dad bod’ looks like this, then yes!” Y/N gestured to her husband while rambling on trying to make her point. “No, you know what? Come here, come sit down with me. Bring the wine.” 

Y/N sat down with her laptop, intent on showing her husband the proof he needed to believe her and believe in himself. Jensen sat down next to her, handing her a fresh glass, as she pulled up photo after photo on the screen. 

“Do you see what I see?”

“No, I see a skinny kid from Texas with no hair on his chest and barely-there abs,” he scoffed. 

“Okay, you still don’t have chest hair, but what else do you see?” She prompted him again. 

“A pudgy mid-section and that was before I turned 40!” 

“Do you want to know what I see?” 

“You’re biased.” 

“You’re damn right I am, but I do know that your fans, the Dean-girls, well, they’re not wrong. Did you know that according to several fan sites, you and Dean have way more fans than Jared and Sam? And are you telling me that millions of people are wrong?”

“Millions?” he asked skeptically. 

“Okay, well, maybe not millions, but a lot! But I see a man that is in better shape than he was twenty years ago. I see a skinny kid from Texas too. But I also see a man who now is in the best shape of his life and way sexier than that skinny kid.. What is it that you’re always telling me when I complain about my baby muffin top or my thunder thighs?”

“That bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and beauty isn’t defined by your body shape; it’s defined by your soul and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.” 

“Okay, and I usually argue with you when you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. We are our own worst critics, you know that. But I see a healthy body and strong arms. Arms that hold me better than any others on the planet. Arms that hold our children and comfort them when they are hurt. I see a sexy mind and a stunning soul, one that was made for me.” 

“Okay, I think that is enough wine for you,” Jensen reached for the glass, but you moved it out of his reach. 

"Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"

“Fine, it could have been a smile.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, my exceptionally sexy wife made a pretty good point.” 

“Oh? Tell me more.”

“Well, she may also be the smartest person I know. She always knows just what to say when my dumbass is being, well a dumbass.” 

“Yeah, I am pretty damn smart. Because you know what else I did? I made arrangements for your visiting parents to keep the children overnight so they can swim until they pass out.”

“Wow, that is pretty smart. You know, I’ve been working out and I bet I could carry you all the way upstairs without breaking a sweat.”

“Oh, you’re on Ackles, but you are wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?” 

“We will definitely be working up a sweat!”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​  @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​  @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @manawhaat​ @crashdevlin​  @fangirlxwritesx67​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @waywardbeanie​ @jensengirl83​ @anathewierdo3467​  @winchest09​ @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @waywardbaby  thewinchesterandreidwhore @anathewierdo

The Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @deanwanddamons​ @rockhoochie​

[sunlightandsuffering]

I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT DIKEODJRKRK LIKE SHES EVEN NICE TO REINER

😂😂😂 bro Its kinda funny tho Eren would lose his fucking mind.

She likes Reiner... fucking Reiner.

She keeps sending him flirtatious glances and cute little winks every time she drops off a scone or a water refill and Eren simultaneously wants to pull his hair out and stick his fork through Reiner's eyeball. And the blonde man sitting across from him knows it. He keeps giving Eren nervous looks and he's grabbed at the collar of his shirt too many times now just to be readjusting it.

Does she not SEE him or something. He doesn't want to be vain but Eren knows regardless of Mikasa's long lost love for him, he's a good-looking guy, he can wheel girls and it's easy. Objectively Reiner is also good-looking, but they're just not the same, Reiner is built like a wall and Eren is a bit more lithe and his face more chiselled. He personally thinks he's a bit better-looking than Reiner but still what the fuck Mikasa?

Well time to turn on the charm, he's usually okay at seducing waitresses, it's been a hot minute though.

Turns out he's not so great at it or maybe Mikasa just hates him he's not entirely sure. At every turn she stonewalls him.

Flirty wink: ignored.

Writing his number down on a napkin and slyly handing it to her: balled up and thrown into the trash. Coincidentally running into her after coming from the bathroom: IGNORED

Flirtatious banter: she takes the opportunity to smile and laugh at Reiner.

He's on the worst losing streak of his life and he doesn't understand.

"Hey, Mikasa is it? That's a really pretty name, does it have any meaning or anything." The line is a last resort and he only does it because he can't think of anything else. He just knows he needs to make some kind of impression on her.

She gives him an unimpressed look, "No, I'm surprised a guy like you said it correctly though, usually everyone gets it wrong." His jaw drops, a guy like him?? A GUY LIKE HIM?? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN??

He can't believe the love of his life hates him because he's been stereotyped as a douchebag. How tragic.

He tries to rebound from her epic destruction of his character, "Well I'm sure you haven't met a lot of guys like me I'm a bit different than what you'd expect." She looks at him in disbelief, but hey at least she's not trying to flash Reiner her epic rack through her low-cut shirt anymore. Now she's just irritated. "Guys like you are a dime a dozen. I bet your name is Kyle, you're probably in business school and president of your fraternity. You do stand-up paddle board yoga on the weekend with your dog at your parent's beach house and you flirt with anything that walks because you can. I've got news for you Kyle, not interested."

All of their friends are just kind of staring in horror at the epic takedown they've just witnessed but Eren shrugs it off he can take the verbal abuse, there's just one thing he can't get over.

KYLE?? SHE THOUGHT HIS NAME WAS KYLE?? Why is he being stereotyped like this, why isn't Reiner, he looks like way more of an asshole than he does.

His face downturns and his mood sours, he doesn't even want to flirt with her anymore, she's just being mean now.

Well might as well stick it to her today, give her a memorable story for her friends, he'll come back another time without a man bun and maybe she'll change her tune. "My name is actually Eren. I'm in pre-med, definitely not involved in a fraternity but Reiner over there is," he points at his blonde friend, he needs her to know he's a douche, SHE CAN'T like Reiner more than him.

He leaves a wad of cash on the table with a generous tip for his meal, "I do actually enjoy stand-up paddle boarding but I don't have a dog and on the weekends I usually volunteer at my dad's clinic. I don't usually flirt with a lot of girls, only ones with dark hair and bad attitudes but since you're so obviously not interested Mi-Ka-Sa," he draws out her name as he stands, towering over her a small grin on his face, "I'll take it as my loss for today but I'll be sure to see you next time."

He leaves her with a wink and he doesn't bother to look back as he leaves the restaurant, waving at Levi who is busy cleaning up behind the cafe counter where they sell pastries.

Mikasa feels AWFUL. That's the meanest she'd ever been in her life but in her defence she's having an awful day and she'd thought the blonde guy, Reiner was cute. He's just her type, blond, tall and with pretty eyes. Of course she'd noticed that the other boy was equally attractive if not more so but she'd written him off as an asshole almost immediately. So to say she's shocked by his response to her is a bit of an understatement. She's a terrible human being and she almost considers running after him, but she still needs to help his friends pay their bill. She gives the debit machine a mournful look as her guilt kicks in. She'd taken all of the stress of her day out on him, it wasn't his fault her car had broke down this morning and that almost every consecutive customer she'd had today had been a dick in one way or another.

She's about to awkwardly ask who wants to pay their bill next when a curly haired girl pipes up from her spot in the corner of the booth. "Hey I know you have absolutely no reason too, but can you do us a favour and run after him. I can almost guarantee it'll be the best decision of your life."

Everyone else around the table is nodding seriously and she doesn't understand at all but well if they all agree, who is she to say no. She leaves the debit machine and speed-walks out of the restaurant, picking up to a quick jog when she spots him well into the parking lot and almost to a silver car.

"Hey!" She yells but he doesn't hear her, he's fiddling around on his phone. She breaks into a sprint just to catch up and she curses how wide their parking lot is.

"Hey you! Eren!" She yells again when she gets close enough and he finally stops, turning to look at her. She stops in front of him, wheezing a bit to catch her breath, god she's out of shape these days.

"What can I do for you Mikasa?" He asks, as if she didn't just insult him.

"Give me-" She wheezes again, "a minute." "Got it." He says and she takes a few more deep breaths before she finally speaks. "I'm really sorry about everything that just happened, I um-I've been having a bad day and I took it out on you. I didn't mean it, I was just being a dick."

She looks up to observe his reaction, preparing to be reamed out for her rudeness but he just grins, green eyes twinkling. "What time are you off?"

"Ugh-six?"

"Good. I'll pick you up at six."

He turns and starts walking towards his car again.

She is dumbfounded. What the hell is she supposed to do, did he just ask her out. "Wait are you asking me out, like on a date." "Do you want it to be a date Mikasa?" "Yes?" "Then it's a date." He gives her one last wink and she's left staring after him unsure how to deal with the entire interaction. Apparently now she has a date.

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[light-yaers]

No Saints: Chapter Two

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 5.7k

Chapter Two

If the time without Mando for those three weeks had led you to a mad sense of loneliness, the days after your previous encounter with him had driven you to insanity.

You woke the next morning with a start—the dream you’d been having was more than you’d ever bargained for. You cursed as you sat up in bed, bringing a hand down to between your thighs.

“Oh, fuck,” You let out breathily, before you had to laugh at yourself to move on from the absolute embarrassment that your own body had put you through. You showered immediately, indulging in the flood of hot water more that morning than you’d ever done previously.

You had to stare at yourself in the mirror afterwards, noticing the blush on your cheeks that was still present from the night before. You pointed at yourself sternly, towel wrapped around your uncontrollable body.

“Snap out of it—stop it,” You told yourself.

Never before had a man reduced you to a puddle with a single touch—of your legs. It wasn’t even anywhere remotely private, just the upper portions of your thighs. But that bottle; he’d known what he was doing, placing it almost harshly in the crevice closest to the most vulnerable asset your body possessed. Pushing your thighs together afterward had been the last straw. If he’d lingered, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d erupted just from the tension in the room, just from the involuntary clenching that your legs were betraying you with.

Mando would never find out about that dream, over your dead fucking body. You could almost imagine his reaction; the subtle chuckles from beneath his helmet, transforming into something else as he inched ever closer towards you, sprawled, ready—

“Kriff!” You yelled into the mirror. You shook your head a few times to get the image out of your head, before vowing not to go there, at least until your workday was done.

You grudgingly got ready to open up shop, checking inventory and wiping down your work desk. You wished you’d somehow dragged him to your bedroom instead the night before; seeing the desk in daylight only increased the tightness in your gut. Dank farrik... today wasn’t going to be easy.

But you endured.

You repaired blaster after blaster, adding modifications to old models and polishing until you thought your fingernails would fall off. You wasted no time over the blunt conversations with hunters, only saying what you needed to and waiting to get paid.

This went on all week. The same old grind, the same desperation within your gut. You tried to stay focused and productive, not stopping even for a minute, since your mind would immediately float back to the Beskar clad hunter if you did. You found yourself in your firing range a lot more often, choosing to practice and keep your mind straying from thoughts of him—

Thoughts that, despite the one-track mindedness of your pulsing heart, also ended up travelling to softer realms. You wondered if he was safe, if he was okay. You wondered if he was well-fed, well-hydrated, well-rested—

You wondered if he also felt the loneliness of his solitude more so after your last encounter. Stars, you wondered if he missed you.

I feared continuing to visit you would become a habit I could no longer break...

Oh, man. That sentence alone reduced you to a red-faced mess, but more so towards the gentler side of things. Mando had a heart, that was certain—he also had a cock, that was definitely certain. You slammed your fist on your work desk, making yourself jump at the sudden display of utter madness.

You’d never had to cope with this level of sexual frustration, but stars, it was real. You’d never been bothered, not really. Nevarro had been sparse in offering you that kind of intimacy, but you’d had it occasionally. A few visiting hunters, here and there, taken in by the immediate attraction of a cut-throat killer and the intelligence of a woman mechanic such as yourself.

But nothing had ever come of them; no weekly visits, no long term plans. You didn’t particularly want anything either. Having attachments only existed to make your life a lot more difficult, especially given the nature of most of the people you’d acquainted yourself with over the years.

There was no telling when they could accidentally mess up and never come back to collect their pay from Karga.

You realised that was why Mando had been so reluctant to return, after your small confession of enjoying his company. He, too, knew what his job entailed. God forbid, he never came back. God forbid, you were killed in your own shop. It was a definite possibility, but one that you didn’t often allow yourself to conceptualise.

You were too lost in thought to notice someone walk into the shop, but when you finally looked up, you immediately restored yourself to a professional.

“Can I help?” You asked, not wasting time to give him a smile. He was a young man, probably no older than yourself. His outfit was typical of all first-time Guild members; too big for their boots, too cocky looking with the way they peered around a room. They were the worst customers by far.

He sauntered up to the desk, slamming his blaster down and hardly meeting your eye. “Cartridge needs replacing,”

“Six hundred credits,” You said in return, not bothering with any niceties. “Upfront,” You added. Immediately he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless dug into his deep pockets.

“Seems a little pricy, don’t you think?” He perked his brow at you, finally meeting your eye, only to send you a playboy smirk.

“If you don’t like my prices, change the cartridge yourself,” You offered bluntly. He scoffed, going to place his credits on the desk, but he stopped abruptly. You sent him a questioning look, before he fully retracted his hand and put the credits back in his pocket.

“Four hundred,” He offered up. Your eyes widened immediately, as laughter burst from the back of your throat. You couldn’t stop the chuckles from escaping your mouth, all the while his face was dropping ever so slowly into a scowl.

“You’re really trying to haggle with me?” You let out, but your voice was already turning more poisonous. You got paid fucking pittance with the amount of work you actually got around here, and this fucking kid was really trying to undercharge you even more? No. Not fucking today. “Get out, kid,” You said, scowling at him warningly. “And good luck getting a cartridge change on this kriffing planet without me,”

He gulped worriedly, and you knew you’d got him. He started shuffling in his pockets again, getting out his credits once more.

“Okay—six hundred—,” He gave in.

“Eight hundred,” You interrupted. His face utterly dropped, revealing some of the wimpiest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen on Nevarro. This kid was lucky he hadn’t been beaten up in the bar already. He smelled like Daddy’s money and cockiness. “For that insulting attempt at a haggle, eight hundred. Upfront,”

You saw him struggle against the rising anger in his throat, just waiting for him to either explode, or hand over the credits like a good little boy. Either way, you were prepared for a fight. It’d been a while since a newcomer had challenged you; and you liked a challenge.

He pulled an empty hand out of his pockets slowly, as you watched him with an unbothered expression. He was seething, you could see the red winding its way up his neck—

And then his blaster was pointed at you, right between the eyes.

You let out a colossal sigh, but more than anything, you were sort of thankful. What a way to expel your frustrations this would be. The saddest part was, though, that this kid was just so stupid. He’d come in for a fucking cartridge replacement; that meant his gun was fucking caput. He wouldn’t have been able to shoot you even if he’d tried.

“You’re cute,” You let out finally, noticing the slight wobble of his arm the longer he kept up the act of being threatening. “Go on—shoot me,” You prompted, raising your arms in a fake surrender.

When he didn’t pull the trigger, you made it easier for him. You came out from behind the desk, walking round towards him. He began to falter, backing himself up into the corner of the shop. “Hey—just, wait—wait there!” He yelled, and you did as he said, rolling your eyes unenthusiastically.

“Come on, do it. I’m an unarmed, poor, alone woman in her little shop on such a horrible planet. Shoot me. You’d be doing me a favour,” You pouted at him sadly, taking a melodramatic approach before you knew what your plan would be—

Kicking his ass.

When you saw him falter, just for a second, you chose then to strike. You grabbed his blaster, pulling him towards you as you snapped your elbow down on his arm harshly—the crunch was enough to determine you’d just utterly broken his damn arm, but his screams were even more so in that favour—

He let out an excruciating groan, tearing up suddenly and dropping his blaster to the floor as his hand seized up. You pushed him away, hoisting a knee underneath his ribcage as he let out another yelp in pain. He stumbled back into the wall, next to the door, as tears slowly dragged down his cheeks. He was clutching his limp shooting arm close to his chest, taking in deep breaths and letting out wracking sobs.

Maybe I’m a sadist, but fuck this guy.

You couldn’t help but smile, going to pick up his blaster as he continued to whimper at his snapped arm. He lolled himself over to the door, slamming it open with his foot and backing out of your shop. You dangled his blaster in your hands, before fucking launching it at him—

He let out another yelp, ducking out of the way before it slammed right into his pretty boy face. You strode out of the shop, watching him flail about like a fish out of water to grab his gun, before booking it round the corner and probably off the planet as quickly as he could.

“Pleasure doing business with you!” You yelled after him, waving sweetly as the last of him disappeared round the corner of the street. “Prick,” You whispered under your breath, scoffing at the entire encounter with this kid.

Sure, you’d missed out on six hundred credits, but fuck it. Men were so quick to think they had the upper hand, especially the dumb ones. If a bounty hunter was experienced, they’d always have their guard up, no matter what you looked like at first glance, and they certainly wouldn’t have underpaid a Nevarro resident. That was a fucking death sentence. You just happened to be gentler.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” His modulated drawl came from behind. Within seconds, your heart was in your throat. You turned to him, trying to ignore the way your face was immediately gaining colour.

You smiled at his helmet, taking him in wholeheartedly. God, you’d missed his silence. It was oddly comforting—not like white noise, not like static, but just the subtlety of his breaths travelling through the modulator.

“He had it coming,” You replied, taking a few strides towards him. “Little shit tried to haggle me for a fucking cartridge replacement,”

“I know,” Mando said. “I saw him go in,” He revealed. Pins and needles spread all over your body with no warning.

“You—saw all that?” You questioned, but by the amused tilt of his helmet, he’d already answered your question. He saw all of it. His visor probably had heat signature capabilities, which meant he’d seen you breaking his arm, kneeing him in his ribs and heard all the rest.

“You can fight,” He said it in the same tone as when he’d talked about your shooting. Like he was impressed. Or proud.

“There’s lots I can do,” You let out, allowing the cockiness of your voice to seep through. It was a joke, just an attempt at a laugh, but Mando took it in a different direction.

“I don’t doubt that,”

You tried not to utterly collapse as his tone turned into more of a growl. It hit you in your very core, causing that familiar feeling in your gut to start back up again, much against your efforts to push it down for the past week.

You headed back to the shop, Mando close on your tail. He shut the door behind him, and the sound of him twisting the lock hit your ears pleasantly.

He often did it, even before the subject of whatever this was between you had risen. Maybe he didn’t want people following him; didn’t want people catching on to his secrets of where the hell he was getting extra information.

“You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be,” You said, trying to spark a conversation like normal, despite the 6ft mound of sexual tension that Mando had brought inside the shop with him.

“I got lucky,” He explained. “Caught up to a runner on a whim. It was an easy fight,” You grabbed your water tankard as you made your way to your usual stool, sat opposite the hunter. “Much like the fight you just won,”

You sent him an amused smile. “He was a puppy. I probably scared him away from Nevarro for the rest of his life,”

“If it wasn’t you who’d done it, he’d probably be dead by now,” Mando added. He was right; others wouldn’t have been so lenient on a fool who ran their mouth like him.

“That’s a nice way of easing my conscience about breaking his arm like a twig,” You scoffed out, taking a drink of water.

“Does your conscience need more easing?” He questioned, and you looked at him plainly. This was a double-edged sword— if you said yes, it only proved that at times you felt uncomfortable about the way people dealt with things here. If you said no— would he think you to be harsh?

No. He kills people for money. A broken arm is nothing to him.

You shook your head sternly. “He got what was coming to him,” You replied. “No one insults me in my own establishment and leaves unscathed,”

Mando settled in his seat, leaning back against the wall. “Good girl,”

Your gut coiled immediately. Fuck— this man. This fucking man. He knew exactly what he was doing with his words, and he knew it well by the way his helmet tilted towards you once again.

You were torn between punching him in the stomach or utterly jumping his bones, but you did neither. You only squirmed in your seat, praying that his thermal sensors weren’t picking up the rising heat between your legs.

The silence was broken by something you weren’t expecting— a groan— from his stomach.

You glanced at his Beskar covered belly then back to his visor, smiling subtly. “Hungry?” You questioned.

Mando visibly tensed. “It’s fine,”

You knew he couldn’t eat freely. That would require taking his helmet off. From the way he’d warningly told you to look away while he sipped at whiskey before, you knew the helmet was a part of who he was. If you were to hazard a guess, you’d say no one alive had ever seen his face—

No one had ever trickled their eyes across his features, his eyes, his nose. Even drinking in the same room as you had taken six months of built-up trust for him to perform.

You stood gently, heading to your work desk and opening up the cupboards beneath. You laid out some basics— bread, butter, some cheese, leaving it on the desktop before you grabbed your favourite blaster.

“I’ll be out back,” You told him. He stood abruptly as you turned to leave.

“You—,” He began, halting you. “You didn’t have to,”

“Just eat, Mando,” You scoffed out. “I don’t want you going hungry in my home,” Your cheeks flushed as soon as you’d finished talking. That was personal—it implied you wanted him to be comfortable, you wanted him to enjoy his time with you.

You nodded at him once, making your way outside to the courtyard and shutting the door behind you. You chose to shoot away your embarrassment; how many times did you have to check yourself? How many times did you have to think back on your words and realise you’d said something stupid?

You shot three times, only hitting one target dead centre. You cursed at yourself, repositioning your feet and forcing yourself to breath slower.

Would he leave if he knew you were starting to care for him?

You shot once, missing the target entirely. Fuck. Come on.

Would his guards go back up if he realised that you enjoyed his visits more than he’d ever fully know?

Twice more— you skimmed the edge of the target on both.

“Fucks sake,” You muttered, only getting more flustered as you failed with each blast, instead of getting rid of the frustration within you.

You breathed out slowly, allowing your body to fall into a stance naturally. If you overthought your shooting, you always failed. If you felt it—felt the trigger and the barrel and visualised the blast, you always got it spot on.

But, evidently, you were distracted.

You aimed at the target, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, but your arm had started to shake subtly—

You felt him behind you before you could turn around. He positioned himself parallel to you, shoving his chest into your back and bringing his hand up to steady your shooting arm. He gripped his fingers around your forearm, twisting you slightly until he was happy with the way the shot lined up.

Your eyes widened when you felt his other hand come to sit snuggly upon your waist. His hand was large enough to squeeze you tightly, balancing you as you realised you’d been tilted to the left the whole time.

His helmet shone in your peripheral, coming to hover over your right shoulder and tilted toward your face. You didn’t waver—you kept your eyes forward and focused on the target before you, despite the fucking urge to look at him—

Stars, it was a strong urge.

“You know how to do this already,” Mando spoke coarsely. God, his voice sounded like butter. It wasn’t helping. “What’s got you this shaken?”

Bastard.

He knew it was because of him. And he was relishing in that fact. Without a second thought, you pulled the trigger—and it missed. Again. You were ready to explode, but instead, you gasped.

Mando moved his hand from your waist to wrap completely around your stomach. You could feel the strength in his muscles, in the way he was hugging you from behind. Your legs started to waver next, as if they’d completely forgot how the fuck to stand up.

“Try again,” He prompted, his voice deepening with arousal. He was enjoying himself. He was enjoying you like this, like a toy, like a game. You imagined his eyes trickling down you from this angle, feeling your pulse quicken as his grip on you didn’t falter. He could definitely feel the shake from your legs; they were positioned just below his groin.

You forced yourself to ignore these feelings, tensing all of your muscles to somewhat numb yourself from his touch, before you fired again.

It missed—unsurprisingly.

His arm immediately moved once more, snaking its way beneath the soft fabric of your shirt until you felt cold Beskar upon the bare skin of your tummy. Oh, fuck—stars. The breath hitched in your throat before you could stop it, as a moan trickled from your mouth involuntarily.

It only riled him up more, as he slammed his body closer to your back. You heard the unmistakable sound of his strained modulated breathing, feeling nothing but his body pushed up behind your own, his hand tightening its grip on your bare stomach and digging into your flesh slightly.

“Try. Again,” He spoke roughly, like it pained him to talk.

You gulped down the need to yell. You wanted to tell him he wasn’t helping. You wanted to tell him to wind his hand further up your shirt, but instead, you were hit with the want to frustrate him even more.

You kept your gaze plastered on the target, but you allowed yourself to don the smallest of smirks. “What happens if I miss again?” You whispered out.

Mando wasted no time with giving you a physical demonstration. He pushed himself further into you, shoving his arm further up your shirt until his palm laid in the space between your breasts. You shivered at the sensation of cold metal upon your soft, supple, skin—skin that was rarely touched by anyone else by yourself.

You couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, slamming your free arm back until you were gripped onto the undershirt beneath his Beskar. You already knew your knuckles were white from the sheer force your fingers had clasped onto him with—Stars, how you’d love to tug off his armour this way.

It was his turn to growl then, as his arm only tensed over your skin. His shooting arm was still and steady as ever, next to the wobbles of your own—you were jelly. And there was nothing you could fucking do about it.

“Hit the target and I’ll stop,” He offered. Your brain flooded with an idea, something to make him realise how fucking bad you wanted this. Abruptly, you swiped your arm upwards to the sky, firing the blaster without any hesitation. It soared up into the air before it disappeared into the approaching dusk of the Nevarro sun.

It was an obvious message; don’t fucking stop.

Before you had the chance to process anything, his shooting arm moved at light speed to grip your inner thigh. You squirmed uncontrollably, immediately trying to shove your legs together, but Mando’s knees intercepted you. He made it impossible to move your legs, boxing you into this stance like a doll.

He was covering you on all sides; your back, your front, your sides. You were effectively trapped in this man’s grasp, doomed to suffer a game of hit the target while your body fought against your attempts at any form of concentration.

“I—,” You began, stuttering through your words and fucking forgetting how to speak, as his fingers started to crawl further up the crevice between your thighs. “Don’t want you to stop,” You forced out, causing a moan to burst from Mando’s lips.

You had to release your grasp on his shirt from fear that your fingers were about to fall off, but that didn’t stop you from moving your hand closer to his waistband. As you struggled to reach around, your hand grazed over his bulge—

Without warning, Mando peeled himself off of you, letting out the most ragged groan that you’d ever heard him produce. He stumbled backwards as his arms swiped away from your skin, until you heard the slam of Beskar against the wall behind you. You swivelled round immediately, still shaking from the fucking pleasure you felt, but you were more concerned about his sudden collapse.

“Mando?” You questioned, rushing forward towards him as he slumped against the wall, but he stuck out a hand, halting you before you could properly approach him.

“Fine,” He breathed out. You saw the strenuous way his chest was inhaling and exhaling, hearing the utter strain of his breaths from beneath his helmet. You let him stay like that for a few minutes, allowing him to catch his breath as you also tried to regain your full composure. Stars—you could feel the warmth of yourself between your legs. You’d bet that you were dripping, and it wouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.  

Your limbs were still overcome with that jelloid sensation, refusing to move in ways that you were used to and instead forcing you to adopt a sort of groaned hobble. When Mando finally looked up at you, red faced, sweating, breathing calmer and still clutching the blaster by your side, he let out an amused scoff.

“You were right,” He finally spoke. “It’s overwhelming,” He groaned when he got himself up from the wall, straightening himself as his desires slowly faded away. You were coming back to yourself too, feeling the utter amusement of the entire situation.

How long would it take two touch-starved loners to actually have sex, without one of them collapsing before it?

You finally walked over to him, tentatively reaching out to grab his forearm. He let you drag him back to your former position, but without the burning sensation of the sexual tension from before. You gently placed his hand onto your waist, bringing his other to the forearm of your shooting arm.

It was the same position as before, the same stance, the same proximity—

Without hesitation, you fired the blaster, hitting the target dead centre. You relished in the achievement, despite knowing you’d had the ability to do it all along. You took comfort in the fact Mando hadn’t removed himself from you just yet, that he was settling into the nooks of your body, your waist, your lower back, feeling comfortable enough himself to stay placed next to you.

It was a sorely missed sensation, just being close to another human being. You could feel Mando realising this same exact feeling; feeling himself getting used to this level of intimacy once more, with it not necessarily being just sexual, despite both of you having those very strong urges.

“I wonder what had you so shaken before?” He cooed in your ear. You rolled your eyes instinctively, turning around to look at him face on. It prompted him to move both hands to sit on your waist—a new feeling, but one that you both seemed to like.

“Shut the fuck up,” You let out, smiling all the while.

“That’s rude,” He hit back with. You could practically hear his smile beneath the helmet.

“Don’t ask such idiotic questions, then,” You gave him a single smack on chest, not expecting the Beskar to fucking hurt that much. You immediately doubled over, clutching your wrist, before you started jumping on the spot at the tingling pain your hand was throbbing with.

Mando was amused. The prick.

“I tapped you, what the hell is Beskar’s problem?” You stuttered out, waving your hand about and flexing your fingers to avoid numbness.

“It doesn’t like you,” Was all he said, before grabbing your arm and dragging you back inside the shop. He shut the door while you jumped up onto your desktop like normal, dropping your legs over the side, still holding your hand.

“Well, I don’t like it,” You retorted. You looked up at his visor, shooting him a smirk. “I’d much rather you weren’t wearing it,” You let out in a whisper, somehow hoping he wouldn’t entirely hear it, but of course he did.

Mando let out a modulated sigh, heading to sit on his usual seat in the shop. You tried not to giggle at his exasperation, but it was simply comedy gold. This stoic man, reduced to absolute pieces by the subtle graze of your fingers over his, very hard, cock.

“We have time,” He replied, before a tense silence flooded through the shop floor once more. You were exhausted after such a hard week, it was true, and this encounter had only sapped up your last remaining energy. You expected Mando felt equally as tired, slumping himself in the chair and continuing through the aftermath of earlier.

“We have time,” You repeated, feeling a welcoming sweetness to replace the ferocious fire in your gut from before. It was fluttering and warm; it made you feel giddy, instead of ravenous. Mando’s helmet tilted to you on the desk, and you smiled at him smally in recognition.

“I should go,” He let out, almost sadly. “I’m need to meet with Karga,”

You tried not to think about how elated you felt at that fact he’d come to see you before meeting with Karga. He’d landed on Nevarro, fresh from his bounties and ready for more work, and he’d come to you before all of that. Stars, it felt good.

“He’s bad news,” You said suddenly, copying his words from the week before. Mando only sighed once more, before forcing himself to stand and sling his satchel over his shoulder.

“I’d watch that smart mouth if I were you,” He threatened, but you only smirked at his response.

“Oh yeah?” You began. “What are you gonna do about it?” You let out playfully, not thinking anything serious about your choice of words.

Suddenly, Mando stormed towards you, getting in close—he shoved his body between your legs as you sat atop the desk, hands gripping the backs of your knees to keep them secure around his sides. You were taken aback, looking up at him like a fucking rabbit in headlights, while one of his hands came to rest on your chin.

His thumb swiped back and forth over your bottom lip gently, all while you stayed absolutely still. Frozen, pulsing, a bit terrified, but mostly turned the fuck on.

“I like your smart mouth,” He growled out. “But not when I have to leave,”

Stars, what the fuck. You were melting immediately once more, all too aware of the way his hips were pressing into you—you could feel him, you could feel the throb.

You had no control over the way your cheeks fucking blushed. If you got any redder, you would have looked to be dowsed in fresh blood. You ignored the hammering of your heart, the heat radiating from your very body, while you tentatively raised a hand to his helmet.

You placed your hand on the cold, hard metal of the mask he never took off, somehow still being surprised about the feeling of the surface—hard, cold, smooth, perfect. As far as you were concerned, this was Mando’s face, this was what he looked like always.

As much as you wanted to delve beneath the armour, you were also a realist. You didn’t expect to ever see his face, as much as you ached to. You didn’t expect to ever kiss his lips, as much as you craved to. You didn’t expect the Mandalorian to unwind fully with anyone, let alone you—

But beneath all of that, was hope.

“Stay then,” You said it before you could analyse the words in your brain. Mando didn’t remove himself from you, but you felt him tense up. “After Karga, stay here tonight,” You repeated.

You fully expected Mando to retract his grip from you, to leave without a word, but instead he got closer to you. He pulled your legs around his waist, leaning himself down to lean his arms on your work desk, until his helmet was all you saw. You wondered, if you squinted, would you see his eyes beneath?

“I can’t,” Mando said finally, before you felt him pulling away. You took your chance, though, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing your lips to his helmet. You kissed him where you expected his cheek to be, navigating the indents and curves in the Besker, before pulling back and sending him a saddened look.

“Be safe, then,” You gave up, allowing him to leave the safety of your legs, wrapped around his hips snuggly. He looked incredibly reluctant to leave, but nevertheless, he grabbed his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder like you’d seen him do a thousand times—

And he left.

You sat in silence for a while, while the darkness set in outside. You turned no lights on, opting to roam around your shop in almost pitch-black, just for the fucking hell of it. Stars—you’d been fucking blue-balled, and so had he. Both times, you’d got close to getting there, but something always faltered before either of you had the chance.

Not that you thought that was a problem. If anything, it spurred you forward, increasing your fantasies surrounding the inevitable unwinding that you’d give him, or more excitedly, he’d give you. You’d be lying if you didn’t think about it all the fucking time—the prospect of Mando making you cum had plagued you for the better part of three months, but now that this had happened, you were getting incredibly impatient.

As much as you wanted to go full throttle, neither of you could fucking take that right now. Not after so long without being touched, not after reacquainting yourselves with the feeling of sexual intimacy; and, possibly, romance.

You were a hard-skinned woman. Making and repairing literal killing machines was your job. You’d hurt, maimed, injured too many people to remember the exact amount, and you knew Mando’s numbers most definitely topped yours. Yet this feeling went beyond the want to be railed by this man—

Maybe, just maybe, you wanted to care for him, too. You wanted to know his past, you wanted to know about Mandalore, you wanted to know what the Beskar and the helmet meant to him— Stars, you wanted to know his favourite colour.

You wanted him to stay. Even if he couldn’t fathom sleeping in your bed, even if the Beskar stayed on completely. You spent most of your days waiting for him to return to Nevarro and, just this once, you wished you could wake up to him.

Kriffing hell. Get it together.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your foot slammed into a box of parts on the way to your bedroom. You fully deserved it, walking around in a pitch-black workshop like it was easy as pie. You grappled at air to find the doorway to your bedroom, almost catapulting yourself into your drawers, until you finally stumbled across your bed.

You got in, not bothering to strip, or wash your face, or brush your teeth—

You got in and hugged your damn pillow. All the while, listening for the familiar sound of your door being lockpicked, hoping that maybe it would be the Mandalorian.

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (4)

You’ve Got Me VooDoo’d

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

--

“Have either of you talked to Adrien lately?” 

Nino scoffed from his place on the couch. “You mean Mr. Roboto? Yeah, he’s been a blast. What did you do, Marinette?” 

“Me?! I didn’t do anything!” 

“Well he wasn’t this weird until your failed date night.” 

“I know that! And I also know that I did nothing wrong!” She scolded. 

“Mari’s right,” said Alya. “Sunshine’s transformation is probably a side effect of his dear old dad.” 

“What did Gabriel do?” Asked Marinette. 

“Don’t you remember? He’s a great designer, and apparently a cool boss, but he’s a super shitty dad.” 

“Yeah. But ever since Adrien turned 18, he’s mellowed out. Somewhat.” 

“So? He probably cranked it back up. When was the last time you saw Adrien outside of the mansion?” 

Marinette blinked. “God, like two weeks ago, before ‘my failed date night’.” 

“Exactly. If you ask me, Sunshine is depressed. Or forbidden from showing emotion.” 

Marinette clutched at her chest, the very notion sending a throb to her heart. 

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. I’ll sneak up on him, so Nathalie doesn’t know. Maybe without her talking to him beforehand, he’ll feel more relaxed.” 

“That’s a good plan! And if he has a camera in his room?” 

“Um…I’ll write a note! Not an email, in case his dad is monitoring it, but an actual, physical note.” It was as good enough of a plan as it could be, though she had neglected to mention to them the tiny detail of Adrien’s document.

‘Your name is Adrien Agreste’ it said. 

Why would he be reading such a thing? Did he have amnesia and Gabriel was trying to keep it quiet? Extremely early onset Alzheimer’s? That’s the only thing that made sense.

Still, Marinette opted to not mention this. It was her clue to the mystery. Maybe later. 

Just like some magic potion

You fill me with emotion

You control my very soul

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

“You could at least respond with ‘k’.” 

The reply was immediate. “K.”

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?” 

“K.” 

“Did I do something?” 

“K” 

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” 

“K”

“You’re really pissing me off, Agreste.” 

“K” 

Marinette put her phone down for her own health. After a morning in the office, and not getting a response from Adrien, she was beyond frustrated. 

If he had a problem with her, fine, but they had work to do! He still had a job at the company, outside of being a model, and some of her work relied on him. 

It was coming in, slowly, poorly, and mostly wrong. Besides modeling, he was an assistant in sizing, making sure that their clothes were made to be close to the market standard, and flattering for as many possible body types. They did do custom orders, of course, but for the average consumer, it was important that they ordered what they wanted, and received what they expected. 

But Adrien’s measurements were wildly wrong. Women’s extra large shirts didn’t gain inches in the bust, waist, and arms respectively, but the whole outfit scaled evenly. 

Meaning that if an average small was 16 inches long, instead of gaining one or two inches, it reached down to the knees. Shoulder seams fell halfway down the bicep, and sleeves continued a few inches over their hands. 

The models in testing looked like children wearing their parents' clothes. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I have to ask you about this collection and the…interesting sizing you’ve decided to take.” One of the sales reps asked, right outside her office. 

“It’s wrong,” Marinette clarified. “It should have been caught before prototypes were made, but there’s been a hiccup in the production.” She stood, and put on her purse. There was no way to solve this problem without talking to Adrien. And goddamnit, she was going to make him talk! 

“See to it that it’s corrected immediately. With Gabriel’s nearly complete absence, this collection is way behind. Aubrey Bourgeois already has her fall collection out!” 

“Yes, I know. I’m heading over to the manor now to get some concrete answers. Hopefully by tomorrow, we’ll get our sizing corrected.” 

“I hope you do.” 

Marinette hurried down the hall, coworkers giving her concerned glances. 

It was pretty obvious, even to those who weren’t immediately in the office:

The company was a sinking ship, and Marinette was the only one who had a bucket. 

You knew the goddess Venus

Would start this love between us

You inspired me with desire

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

Marinette let herself into the manor, though it wasn’t her day to work there. Thankfully, it seemed like Nathalie was too busy to notice her arrival. 

Up at Adrien’s bedroom door, she was about to knock. Then she noticed his door was cracked open. 

Surely spying on him slightly wouldn’t be wrong?

She pushed the door open a little more for her to peek through. 

On the other side of the room, staring out the window, stood Adrien. And that’s all he did. He just stood looking out the window. The lights in the room were off, backlighting his silhouette. She watched him for a moment, waiting. Nothing. 

Then she knocked. “Adrien? Are you decent?”

“Yes, I am.” He spoke formally. 

She opened the door fully, and he turned to look at her with the most plastic smile she had ever seen. 

He didn’t have his dimples. 

“Hello Marinette, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were working here today.” 

“Nice to see you too. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you properly the last few days, you’ve been so busy.” 

“I have been, I apologize.” 

“It’s not your fault. I know how your father is.” She took a seat on the couch, and pulled out her salad from her bag. “Sorry, I’d wait to eat with you, but I’m so hungry.” 

“You may eat. I understand.” Though he just stared at her, still smiling, and still standing. 

“Are you going to sit?” 

“I can.” He sat next to her, leaving a cushion of space in-between. Normally, he would practically be in her lap. 

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. We’re alone.”  

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

She frowned slightly. “You don’t need to apologize. Just like...relax.” 

Adrien looked at her, before exhaling loudly and sinking into the couch more. “Is this relaxed enough?” 

She shrugged. 

“What did you want to talk about?” 

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

“Doing?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been acting super weird lately.” 

He tilted his head slightly. “Weird? How so?” 

“I don’t know, stiff? Formal? Just kind of...stand off-ish. And forgetful. There've been some pretty obvious mistakes in sizing for this collection, and you approved them. You haven’t been in the office the last few days, so I was worried.” 

He considered this. “I’m sorry if my absence caused you any inconveniences. I wasn’t aware I needed to be at the office.” 

She blinked a few times, incredulously. This was absolutely bizarre. “You don’t need to be there, you just usually hang around after shoots or fittings and keep me company.” 

“Oh, because we are friends, right? My good friend Marinette.”  

“Yes!” She slammed her Tupperware down. “This is what I’m talking about! It’s like you don’t know who I am!”

He frowned, the expression running lines in his face. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m having a hard time right now, and I’m kind of exhausted. I’m…kind of confused.”

She took a calming breath. “Okay. I get it. You’re stressed. Let’s talk this out though, okay?”

He twisted up his mouth in thought. “Okay, what would you like to talk about?” 

“What’s got you stressed? Is your dad breathing down your neck? Are deadlines too much to handle with modeling too? Do you need a vacation?” 

He stared at her, blankly. “I’m not sure. I would have to think about it.” 

“Well, you know you can talk to me about anything. I care a lot about you, Adrien.” 

“Oh…that’s nice.” He smiled and patted her hand.

It sounded incredibly patronizing. And it hurt. 

“What is up with you? You’ve been acting so strange! You’re not the boy I know!”

You knew you had the power

And even picked the hour

When the full moon was up above

I was hypnotized when I looked into your eyes

My heart was filled with love

The unbelievable plastic smile shifted then, relaxing ever so slowly, until it was gone, and it almost seemed like it was never there. 

“You should go.” Adrien said, hollowly. 

“What?” 

“You should leave now. I don’t think you should be here. Does Nathalie know you are here?”

Marinette swallowed. “No, she doesn’t. I mean—I didn’t think you’d mind. You usually like it when I come to hang out…” she looked to the floor, “at least you used to.” 

“Please give me thorough warning the next time you need to speak with me.” 

She snapped the lid back on her lunch, the second time she had done so. She only had a few bites, just like last time. 

And food just didn’t taste as good without him around. 

“Fine. You know what? I won’t bother you again. Next time, I’ll send an email, like I do with all my other co-workers.” She slid her lunch into her bag, and stood. “The sizing for this collection needs some serious work, and I’ve been the one to have to fix it, on top of all my other responsibilities. Please do better next time, Mr. Agreste.” She shouldered her bag, and walked out. 

Once the door slammed behind her, she let the tears gather in her eyes, but didn’t let them fall. 

So it was over then. Her friendship with Adrien, her best friend, was over. And she wasn’t getting an explanation. 

“Marinette,” Tikki said, sadly. “It can’t be your fault. You didn’t do anything.” 

“I know. And that’s the worst part. Because that means I can’t fix it.” 

She left the Agreste mansion that day, not knowing the next time she walked through those doors, life would be completely different.

Just like the siren Circe

You've got me at your mercy

Always to be brave and bold

Mama, You've Got Me Voodoo'd

It was late. Too late for anyone to be calling, and yet, here her phone was ringing. Marinette fumbled for it. Grabbing it and blinding herself with the screen.

It was 3am, and Adrien was calling her. 

She loved a late night confession as much as the next girl, but she had a presentation in the morning. What was he thinking? 

She hoped it was an apology. Maybe he was finally going to break down and tell her everything that was going wrong. 

Or maybe he was going to confess he didn’t actually know how clothing measurements worked and he’d been guessing the whole time.

“Hello?” She grumbled.

“Marinette.” His voice was so stern, so cold, it gave her goosebumps. “Did I wake you?” He asked, softer.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, but it’s important.” 

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed. “You were right. I’m not the boy you knew.”

More awake now, she sat up in bed. This had obviously been driving him wild for a while. “We all change, Adrien. It’s okay. If you’re going through something, I’m here for you. Just be honest with me.” 

“That’s not—“ he sighed, a growl at the end. “Look, just…I don’t have much time. I don’t know what he—what I was going to tell you that night, but it probably wasn’t good.” 

Another voice was on his end of the line. “What are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!”

“Shit. Just look in the basement!”

“What?!”

“How dare you!” 

“Let go of me!”

And the line went dead. 

What. The. Hell.

She called him back, now completely wide awake. 

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…”

--

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

[mossybee-exe]

Customer Service|Hawks x Reader

Your job wasn't a really excited one, but it paid well so you didn't care.

It's not like you have a great quirk that would allow you to become a hero even if you wanted to so you were fine with it.

Your job was to supply pro heroes small essentials that they ordered. Such as giving pros a healthy lunch if they forgot it, capture rope for villains, etc.

But you also did other things like photo shoots for magazines, artwork, etc.

For the most part, you didn't care who came in even if they were a popular one, as they were always nice and paitent with you. Even when they weren't the nicest, you didn't have a problem with them.

But for some reason, there is one pro hero who you can not STAND! And that was the Number Two Pro Hero Hawks.

You had never met the guy but just from the talk shows he would be on or what you read in magazines, and how he acted, it just made you so annoyed for some reason. You thought he was a bit of an idiot.

But since you never met him you didn't care all that much.

That was until one very slow and boring Friday at your store.

You were just packing up another lunch into a bento box and in a brown paper bag for the next hero that would come in, when you hear the front door ding as someone walked in.

"Welcome to Hero's Spotlight! How may I help-" But you stop mid sentence when turn around and see the one person who you couldn't stand.

Hawks.

This day just got less pleasant. You think to yourself.

You do your best to keep your friendly smile on as he walked over with his usual smirk. "Hey there. I'm here for a photoshoot for Hero Daily." He tells you. "Oh I see.. well the just step over here for me!" You reply pointing towards the photo equipment.

You grit your teeth as you kept smiling as you don't want to give bad Customer Service otherwise your boss would chew you out with it.

You position him so he's facing the green screen sideways and he stood straight with his hands stuffed in his pockets and he stares off ahead of him.

You were about to take a picture when you noticed his wings wouldn't stop twitching and moving. "I need you to be still! That includes your wings!" You tell him in the NICEST tone and smile you could muster.

"But I can't stay still for long!" He complains. Knowing him, that is entirely possible, as he lives in a fast moving world. You honestly think he goes TOO fast and doesn't take time to stop and enjoy life around him.

"It's just for a second! You'll be fine!" You tell him and he sighs returning to his position. This time he was able to stay still and you got a couple of good shots.

You got a few more pictures in different poses until he was finally done. "Done! Happy now??" You ask, a little bit of hostility in your tone as you didn't want to spend much more time with this guy.

"Finally!" Hawks says with a sigh as he follows you back to the front desk. "I will send these pictures to the editor and that will be ¥1300!" You tell him as you stored your camera down below the counter where it usually went.

"Yes ma'am." He replies giving you the money before heading out of your store. You sigh of relief, glad it was over. Now it was nothing but smooth sailing for the rest of your work shift.

You hoped at least.

The next few days, Hawks kept coming back for either more pictures, or capture rope, or a lunch cuz he forgot to make one.

Each time he visited, you got less and less paitent.

Eventually, you couldn't take it anymore! The day you snapped you were already not having a good day. When Hawks came in and rushed you to get him a special requested lunch packed, you just couldn't take it anymore.

You were tired of his annoying "flirty responses," sarcastic remarks, and pressure of rushing you to get it.

Once again moving in his fast paced world.

"That's it! I'm already having an AWFUL day and I don't need YOU coming in here rushing and stressing me out! I know your world is fast, but you NEVER stop to appreciate it and rush into everything!! But I DON'T like being rushed so could you just be quiet for one second?!"

You tell angrily and immediately guilt had over taken you as Hawks' am, turning to a frown, and h had a blank expression, but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You sighed and finished packing his lunch before handing it to him. "I'm sorry. Just take your lunch. It's free." You reply as you bowed, not daring to look up at his face as you were ashamed in yourself.

You expected Hawks to reply with his usual optimistic tone.

"Don't worry about it!"

"Nah don't sweat it! It's fine!"

But no. He didn't say anything. You just heard his footsteps walk away and out the door as it rung. You sigh and hide your face with your hands.

That was the worst think you could possibly say.

He was the NUMBER TWO HERO for heaven's sake!

But what was done was done. You couldn't reverse it.

A few weeks pass and Hawks never once returned to your store. You knew why. You knew he was disgusted with you, or hurt by your harsh words and tone. You were immediately regretting how you treated him.

Good news is, your boss hasn't approached you about it so at least he didn't report the situation to her!

But feeling the guilt was worse than any punishment you could ever get from your boss.

One day though, on your day off, you were walking through the relaxing and beautiful park near your apartment complex. You figured by now Hawks probably forgot all about how you yelled at home but even if he did, you could never.

You could never forget the hurt in his eyes and the fact he walked out silently.

You hoped a walk would help clear your head. But low and behold you saw Hawks sitting on a bench a few feet away, looking around.

He had his content smirk on and had casual wear on. And you hadn't realized until now, but as the sun's ray hit him at just the right angle, he looked like an angel from heaven.

You quickly pushed that thought away though as you felt a slight blush appear on your cheeks. You were about to turn and walk the other way, as you couldn't even bare being near him afraid he may yell something hurtful at you.

Which you probably deserved anyway.

But you knew you couldn't run from this any longer, so you decided to take it. You walked over to him and stood in front of him. From the way his smirk disappears again, you knew he recognized you.

You then look down and then get on your knees and bowed to him. "I am very very sorry for how I had treated you at my store. I just ask for your forgiveness! If you want to yell at me, I deserve it." You tell him.

You didn't care if people were watching now, you just didn't want to live with this guilt anymore.

Truth being, he really wasn't all that bad! You were just overreacting! Maybe sometimes he annoyed you but nothing extreme.

That's when you hear Hawks laugh and you look up to see him laughing and smiling before looking down at you. "I was never mad at you! Why would I be mad?" He tells you, and as relived you were by him not being angry, you felt yourself a bit annoyed.

He was never angry yet you suffered the past few weeks, feeling awful and thinking he was mad!

"Look I get it. Everyone just has those days, so I don't care! Infact I'm actually taking your advice now! I decided to slow down today and just enjoy nature." Hawks tells you while he grabbed your hands and helped you back up to your feet.

You then sat down beside him as he stared back at the bright green trees. "You were right about just taking a moment to enjoy life. It relieves a lot of stress as well." He adds while you just stared at him.

You were not only glad he wasn't angry or upset with you, but he also took your advice! You also couldn't get over how he looked like an angel in the light. A handsome one at that.

You felt a light blush before looking forward as well. What were you thinking?! This was the Number Two hero! Even if you did like him, he was busy with life and didn't have time for a partner. Plus you barely knew him.

But you guys talked for the rest of the afternoon before you both get ready to part ways.

"Well this was nice!" You tell him. After getting to know him better, you realized he wasn't at all that bad of a guy. "Yeah! But I never actually got your name." He points out. "Oh right! It's Y/N!" You reply.

"I see. Well, call me Teigo." He says writing something down before handing you the paper. "There's my number so we can keep chatting. See ya around!" He says before walking off.

You blush and close your eyes.

The guilt finally gone.