#haruto x yn
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jxwl4k · 14 days ago
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Glimpse of us .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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☘︎ genre: fluff
☘︎ pairings: fiancé!bakugou x fem!reader
⤿ a glimpse of bakugou and yn before haruto and akira <𝟑
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It was a sunny Saturday morning when YN and Bakugou found themselves lounging on their couch, the afternoon light filtering through the curtains. The peace of the moment was a welcome break from their busy lives as pro heroes. YN had been scrolling through social media, watching various couples document their lives together, and an idea struck her.
“Hey, Katsuki,” she said, looking up from her phone with a bright smile. “What if we did a vlog? Just a little glimpse of our life before we start our own family?”
Bakugou raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “Vlog? You mean like those losers online?”
“Exactly! But it could be fun! We could capture these moments together, and when we have our little family—” YN paused for effect, a teasing glint in her eyes, “we can show them how awesome their parents were before they came along.”
He smirked, crossing his arms. “Fine, but I’m not doing any of that cheesy stuff.”
ᯓ★ vlog one: the proposal
With the camera rolling, YN kicked off their first vlog. “Welcome to our first vlog! I’m YN, and this is my fiancé, Katsuki!” Bakugou grunted a response, looking slightly annoyed at being on camera.
YN’s enthusiasm shone through as she shared the story of their engagement—how Bakugou had turned an ordinary night into a spectacular moment with an explosive proposal, complete with fireworks. “It was perfect, even if he made me jump a little!” she laughed, nudging him playfully.
ᯓ★ vlog two: a day in the life of a pro hero
In this vlog, Bakugou took the lead, showing off his morning routine as a pro hero. “This is what it’s like to be Dynamight,” he said, the camera capturing his gruff demeanor as he prepared for the day. YN followed him around, playfully commenting on his preparations and asking for tips, trying to keep him in a good mood.
“Don’t mess with my routine, YN,” he warned, but there was a fondness in his eyes. They ended up filming him rushing out the door, barely managing to grab a toast as he yelled, “I’ll be back later!”
ᯓ★ vlog three: grocery shopping
The next vlog featured a fun grocery shopping challenge. “Today, we’re going to buy everything on our list without blowing the budget!” YN announced, grinning at the camera. Bakugou rolled his eyes but eventually joined in, throwing items into the cart as they bantered back and forth.
“Do we really need five packs of instant ramen?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Absolutely! It’s quick and easy for busy nights!” YN shot back, her laughter filling the store as they captured their antics.
ᯓ★ vlog four: date night
“Tonight, we’re having a date night at home!” YN declared, and Bakugou begrudgingly set up the camera in their living room. They cooked dinner together, with Bakugou trying his best not to burn the food. “Why do you always choose the recipes with the most steps?” he complained.
“Because it’s fun! And I love cooking with you,” YN said, smiling brightly. As they prepared the meal, they reminisced about their early days, laughing over the mishaps they’d had in the kitchen.
ᯓ★ vlog five: planning the future
In a more serious tone, YN brought up the topic of their future. “So, we’ve talked about having kids. How many do you want, Katsuki?” she asked, her gaze softening.
“Two,” he replied without hesitation. “A boy and a girl.”
“What names do you like?” she prodded, a twinkle in her eye.
“Haruto for a boy and Akira for a girl,” he said, sounding more thoughtful than usual.
“Those are perfect!” YN exclaimed, her heart swelling at the thought of their future family.
ᯓ★ vlog six: a day in the park
One sunny weekend, they decided to visit the park. “We’re going to show you how we spend our weekends!” YN said, holding the camera while Bakugou pushed her on the swings, much to his own surprise. “See, Katsuki? You can have fun!”
“I’m not having fun,” he grumbled, but a smirk was evident on his face as he continued to push her. They recorded their antics, capturing candid moments of laughter and love.
ᯓ★ vlog seven: pet adoption day
“Today is a big day! We’re adopting a puppy!” YN announced excitedly. They visited a local shelter, and Bakugou was surprisingly gentle as he picked up a rambunctious puppy. “Welcome to the family, little guy,” he said, a soft expression on his face that melted YN’s heart.
ᯓ★ vlog eight: home renovation
Their next project was turning one of the rooms into a nursery. YN filmed their progress as they painted the walls. “This is happening! We’re really doing this!” she exclaimed, as Bakugou helped, albeit reluctantly. “You’re getting paint everywhere!” he complained, but he couldn’t hide his smile.
ᯓ★ vlog nine: a day with the kids
Fast forward a few years, and the couple had two kids: Haruto and Akira. “Welcome to our chaotic family day!” YN laughed, trying to wrangle the energetic children. Bakugou, surprisingly patient, helped them build a fort, showing off his softer side as he played with them.
“Alright, you little brats, let’s see who can build the best fort!” he challenged, a competitive glint in his eye.
ᯓ★ vlog ten: reflection on family
In their final vlog of the series, YN and Bakugou sat together, the kids playing in the background. “These past few years have been incredible,” YN said, her voice filled with emotion. “We’ve built a beautiful family, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Bakugou nodded, his demeanor softer as he gazed at their children. “Yeah, we did good. And we still have a lot more to do.”
They shared their hopes for the future, knowing that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together—one vlog at a time, filled with laughter, love, and memories to cherish forever.
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petalsscribbles · 3 months ago
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Intertwined
summary: Matthew and Yn are complete opposites of each other in terms of personality, interests and tastes, yet they're as close as they can possibly be. And yet, even childhood best friends and neighbours as close as them have they're secrets. Matthew doesn't know about Yn's sketchbooks filled with drawings of him, Yn doesn't know Matthew has been deeply in love with him for years and neither of them know they're soulmates.
pairing: seok matthew x male reader
genre: smau, fluff, humor, light angst, childhood friends, soulmates au, mutual pining aka the love is requited but they're idiots, matthew fell first AND harder
featuring: zb1 members, G-Idle Shuhua, Haruto, Lesserafim Eunchae
content warning: alcohol consumption, kms jokes, cursing
status: ongoing
started: 3.10.2024
finished: tba
taglist: OPEN comment or send ask to be added
@xavi-in-kpopland @starchasing-cryptid @tarotarosung @bubblztaro @gnusihcom @monstaxpuppy @academiq @ningningxx
author's note: tadah! your 200 followers gift :3
disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken seriously or as a representation of the idols.
navigation:
profiles:
profiles 1 profiles 2
chapters:
1. moving
2. adapting
3. Gyubin almost dies (not clickbait)
4. defeating social anxiety
5. twists, turns and tackles
6. jealousy is poison
7. hoops and heartbreaks
8. determination
9. in the middle of the night (written)
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h4chi · 2 years ago
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SUMMARY it’s another busy school year between books, her new part-time job in a music store, volleyball and her duty as the student council’s vice president for yn. on the other hand, sunghoon has just moved from the big and crowded seoul with his family for his father’s new job. new city also means new school, new friends and maybe… old friends too. but what if yn doesn’t recognize him anymore?
GENRE childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers (lol). smau, some written chapters. comedy, romance
PAIRING non-idol park sunghoon x female reader
FEATURING le sserafim (huh yunjin as yn), enhypen, new jeans, treasure haruto, nct jeno + more
WARNINGS underage drinking, swearing, food, mentions of depression (not much tbh) and overworking
STATUS began December 25th. DISCONTINUED
TAGLIST open! send an ask to be added :)
( permanent taglist, you can ask to be removed for this smau. @enhacolor @soobin-chois @bubblytaetae ) @ilvsoup @ineedaherosavemeenow @igotkpoops @diestheticu @ohsyanfei @captivq @dimplewonie @blossomnct @yjjungwon @chaewon-slays @jiawji @ahnneyong @yenqa @italiekim @viagumi @sunoo-lvxr @neozon3nha @faeryhee @aki1e @iloveoceaneyesss @bejewelledgirl
ENHYPEN MASTERLIST !
© H4CHI 2022 do not copy or repost anywhere.
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PROFILES: jeju gals, connecting…, islanders
영 — kill bill
일 — first day of school
이 — sunghoon who?
삼 — banana peel sunghoon???
사 — today is application day
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sunoopsis · 2 years ago
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!!BESTFRIEND PERKS
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☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
-> being childhood and best friends with THE hong eunchae definitely came with perks, such as getting to hang out with lesserafim (following them around like a lost dog)! after a bunch of things happening, you find yourself being a new member of lesserafim! other than the hesitation, everything seems to be nice! until music bank. along with your classmate, wonyoung, you see sunghoon, whos in the same group as you idol crush. and now youre wondering if the crush in question knows about your existence……..(he most definitely does)
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
GENRE -> strangers 2 lovers, angst(?), fluff
PAIRING -> y.jw x fem??????? reader
WARNINGS -> yeojin as yn!(face claim), i may or may not try to mention haruto and garam as much as i can becos……..i love them💔
-
profiles : yns babygirls | fearful girls | drunk
1 - WE LOST EUNCHAE AND YN????
2 - my emo gf :(
3 - why is the manager calling
4 - hesitation
5 - im so sorry (written)
6 - feeling fragile
7 - i love my job!!!!!
8 - antifragile
8 - wonyoung and SUNGHOON??? (written + smau)
tba!!!!!11!!111!
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shuxiii · 2 years ago
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Everyday pt. 6
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Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13
a/n drink your milk everybody even the adults so your bones get yummy yummy milk if you are lactose intolerant, eat your veggies. credits all to ''every day'' by David Levithan.
Day 6003
I am not alone when I wake up the next morning.
I am sharing the room with two other boys—my brothers, Yeonjun and Beomgyu. Yeonjun is a year older than me. Beomgyu is my twin. My name is Soobin.
Soobin is big—a football player. Beomgyu is about the same size. Yeonjun is even bigger.
The room is clean, but even before I know what town I’m in, I know we’re not in the nice part of it. This is a big family in a small house. There is not going to be a computer here. Soobin is not going to have a car.
It’s Yeonjun’s job—self-appointed or otherwise—to get us up and out. Our father’s not home from the night shift yet, and our mother’s already on the way to her job. Our two sisters are about done with the bathroom. We’re next.
I access and find that I’m in the town next to Haruto’s, over an hour from Hanni’s.
This is going to be a hard day.
The bus ride to school takes forty-five minutes. When we get there, we head to the cafeteria for free breakfast. I am amazed at Soobin’s appetite—I pile on pancake after pancake, and he’s still hungry. Beomgyu matches him bite for bite.
Luckily, I have study hall first period. Unluckily, there’s still homework that Soobin needs to do. I push through that as quick as I can, and have about ten minutes of computer time left at the end.
There’s a message from Hanni, written at one in the morning.
Yn,
I want to believe you, but I don’t know how.
Hanni
I write back:
Hanni,
You don’t need to know how. You just make up your mind and it happens.
I am in Laurel right now, over an hour away. I am in the body of a football player named Soobin. I know how strange that sounds. But, like everything I’ve told you, it’s the truth.
Love,
Yn
There’s just enough time for me to check my other email address. There’s another email from Haruto.
You can’t avoid my questions forever. I want to know who you are. I want to know why you do what you do.
Tell me.
Again, I leave him unanswered. I have no idea whether I owe him an explanation or not. I probably owe him something. But I’m not sure it’s an explanation.
I make it through to lunch. I want to go immediately to the library to check the computers again. But Soobin is hungry, and Beomgyu is with him, and I am afraid that if he doesn’t get his lunch now, there won’t be anything for him to eat until dinnertime. I checked, and there’s only about three dollars in his wallet, including change.
I get the free lunch and eat it quickly. Then I excuse myself to the library, which inspires no shortage of taunts from Beomgyu, who claims that “libraries are for girls.” A true brother, I shoot back with, “Well, that explains why you never find any.” A wrestling match ensues. All of this takes away time from what I need to do.
When I get to the library, all the computers are taken. I have to loom large over a freshman for about two minutes before he freaks out enough to give me his space. Quickly I check out public transportation and find out I’ll need to take three buses in order to make it to Hanni’s town. I’m ready to do it, but when I check my email, there’s another message from Hanni, dated just two minutes ago.
Yn,
Do you have a car? If not, I can come to you. There’s a Starbucks in Laurel. I’m told that nothing bad ever happens in a Starbucks. Let me know if you want to meet there.
Hanni
I type:
Hanni,
I would appreciate it if you could come here. Thank you.
Yn
Two minutes later, a new email from her:
Yn,
I’ll be there at 5. Can’t wait to see what you look like today.
(Still not believing this.)
Hanni
My nerves are jangling with possibility. She’s had time to think about it, and that hasn’t turned her against me. It’s more than I could ask for. I am careful not to be too grateful, lest it be taken away.
The rest of the school day is unexceptional … except for a moment in seventh period. Mrs. French, the bio teacher, is hectoring a kid who hasn’t done his homework. It’s a lab assignment, and he’s come up blank.
“I don’t know what got into me,” the slacker says. “I must have been possessed by the devil!”
The rest of the class laughs, and even Mrs. French shakes her head.
“Yeah, I was possessed by the devil, too,” another guy says. “After I drank seven beers!”
“Okay, class,” Mrs. French intones. “Enough of that.”
It’s the way they say it—I know Haruto’s story must be spreading.
“Hey,” I say to Beomgyu as we head to football practice, “did you hear about that kid in Monroeville who says he was possessed by the devil?”
“Dude,” he replies, “we were just talking about that yesterday. It was all over the news.”
“Yeah, I mean, did you hear anything more about it today?”
“What more is there to say? Kid got caught in a crazy lie, and now the religious crazies want to make him a poster child. I almost feel sorry for him.”
This, I think, is not good.
Our coach has to go to his wife’s Lamaze class, which he bitches about to us in detail, but it forces him to end practice early. I tell Beomgyu that I’m going to make a Starbucks run, and he looks at me like I have been totally, irredeemably girlified. I was counting on his disgust, and am relieved to get it.
She’s not there when I arrive, so I get a small black coffee—pretty much the only thing I can afford—and sit and wait for her. It’s crowded, and I have to look brutish in order to keep the other chair at my table unoccupied.
Finally, about twenty minutes after five, she shows up. She scans the crowd and I wave. Even though I told her I was a football player, she’s still a little startled. She comes over anyway.
“Okay,” she says, sitting down. “Before we say another word, I want to see your phone.” I must look confused, because she adds, “I want to see every single call you’ve made in the past week, and every single call you received. If this isn’t some big joke, then you have nothing to hide.”
I hand over Soobin’s phone, which she knows how to work better than I do.
After a few minutes of searching, she appears satisfied.
“Now, I quiz you,” she says, handing back the phone. “First, what was I wearing on the day that Minji took me to the beach?”
I try to picture it. I try to grab hold of those details. But they’ve already eluded me. I remember her, not what she was wearing.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Do you remember what Minji was wearing?”
She thinks about it for a second. “Good point. Did we make out?”
I shake my head. “We used the make-out blanket, but we didn’t make out. We kissed. And that was enough.”
“And what did I say to you before I left the car?”
“ ‘That’s the nice note.’ ”
“Correct. Quick, what’s Yunjin’s girlfriend’s name?”
“Kazuha”
“And what time did the party end?”
“Eleven-fifteen.”
“And when you were in the body of that girl who I took to all of my classes, what did the note you passed me say?”
“Something like, ‘The classes here are just as boring as in the school I’m going to now.’ ”
“And what were the buttons on your backpack that day?”
“Anime kittens.”
“Well, either you’re an excellent liar, or you switch bodies every day. I have no idea which one is true.”
“It’s the second one.”
I see, over Hanni’s shoulder, a woman looking at us quizzically. Has she overheard what we’re saying?
“Let’s go outside,” I whisper. “I feel we may be getting an unintended audience.”
Hanni looks skeptical. “Maybe if you were a petite cheerleader again. But—I’m not sure if you fully realize this—you’re a big, threatening dude today. My mother’s voice is very loud and clear in my head: ‘No dark corners.’ ”
I point out the window, to a bench along the road.
“Totally public, only without people listening in.”
“Fine.”
As we head out, the woman who was eavesdropping seems disappointed. I realize how many people sitting around us have open laptops and open notebooks, and hope that none of them have been taking notes.
When we get to the bench, Hanni lets me sit down first, so she can determine the distance that we’ll sit apart, which is significant.
“So you say you’ve been like this since the day you were born?”
“Yes. I can’t remember it being any different.”
“So how did that work? Weren’t you confused?”
“I guess I got used to it. I’m sure that, at first, I figured it was just how everybody’s lives worked. I mean, when you’re a baby, you don’t really care much about who’s taking care of you, as long as someone’s taking care of you. And as a little kid, I thought it was some kind of a game, and my mind learned how to access—you know, look at the body’s memories—naturally. So I always knew what my name was, and where I was. It wasn’t until I was four or five that I started to realize I was different, and it wasn’t until I was nine or ten that I really wanted it to stop.”
“You did?”
“Of course. Imagine being homesick, but without having a home. That’s what it was like. I wanted friends, a mom, a dad, a dog—but I couldn’t hold on to any of them more than a single day. It was brutal. There are nights I remember screaming and crying, begging my parents not to make me go to bed. They could never figure out what I was afraid of. They thought it was a monster under the bed, or a ploy to get a few more bedtime stories. I could never really explain, not in a way that made sense to them. I’d tell them I didn’t want to say goodbye, and they’d assure me it wasn’t goodbye. It was just good night. I’d tell them it was the same thing, but they thought I was being silly.
“Eventually I came to peace with it. I had to. I realized that this was my life, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t fight the tide, so I decided to float along.”
“How many times have you told this story?”
“None. I swear. You’re the first.”
This should make her feel special—it’s meant to make her feel special—but instead it seems to worry her.
“You have to have parents, don’t you? I mean, we all have parents.”
I shrug. “I have no idea. I would think so. But it’s not like there’s anyone I can ask. I’ve never met anyone else like me. Not that I would necessarily know.”
It’s clear from her expression that she thinks this is a sad story I’m telling her—a very sad story. I don’t know how to convey to her that it hasn’t all been sad.
“I’ve glimpsed things,” I say. Then I stop. I don’t know what’s next.
“Go on,” she tells me.
“It’s just—I know it sounds like an awful way to live, but I’ve seen so many things. It’s so hard when you’re in one body to get a sense of what life is really like. You’re so grounded in who you are. But when who you are changes every day—you get to touch the universal more. Even the most mundane details. You see how cherries taste different to different people. Blue looks different. You see all the strange rituals boys have to show affection without admitting it. You learn that if a parent reads to you at the end of the day, it’s a good sign that it’s a good parent, because you’ve seen so many other parents who don’t make the time. You learn how much a day is truly worth, because they’re all so different. If you ask most people what the difference was between Monday and Tuesday, they might tell you what they had for dinner each night. Not me. By seeing the world from so many angles, I get more of a sense of its dimensionality.”
“But you never get to see things over time, do you?” Hanni asks. “I don’t mean to cancel out what you just said. I think I understand that. But you’ve never had a friend that you’ve known day in and day out for ten years. You’ve never watched a pet grow older. You’ve never seen how messed up a parent’s love can be over time. And you’ve never been in a relationship for more than a day, not to mention for more than a year.”
I should have known it would come back to that. “But I’ve seen things,” I tell her. “I’ve observed. I know how it works.”
“From the outside? I don’t think you can know from the outside.”
“I think you underestimate how predictable some things can be in a relationship.”
“I love her,” she says. “I know you don’t understand, but I do.”
“You shouldn’t. I’ve seen her from the inside. I know.”
“For a day. You saw her for a day.”
“And for a day, you saw who she could be. You fell more in love with her when she was me.”
I reach out again for her hand, but this time she says, “No. Don’t.”
I freeze.
“I have a girlfriend,” she says. “I know you don’t like her, and I’m sure there are moments when I don’t like her, either. But that’s the reality. Now, I’ll admit, you have me actually thinking that you are, in fact, the same person who I’ve now met in five different bodies. All this means is that I’m probably as insane as you are. I know you say you love me, but you don’t really know me. You’ve known me a week. And I need a little more than that.”
“But didn’t you feel it that day? On the beach? Didn’t everything seem right?”
There it is again—the pull of the ocean, the song of the universe. A better liar would deny it. But some of us don’t want to live our lives as liars. She bites her lip and nods.
“Yes. But I don’t know who I was feeling that for. Even if I believe it was you, you have to understand that my history with Minji plays into it. I wouldn’t have felt that way with a stranger. It wouldn’t have been so perfect.”
“How do you know?”
“That’s my point. I don’t.”
She looks at her phone, and whether or not she truly needs to leave, I know this is the sign that she’s going to.
“I have to make it back for dinner,” she says.
“Thanks for driving all this way,” I tell her.
It’s awkward. So awkward.
“Will I see you again?” I ask.
She nods.
“I’m going to prove it to you,” I tell her. “I’m going to show you what it really means.”
“What?”
“Love.”
Is she scared by this? Embarrassed? Hopeful?
I don’t know. I’m not close enough to tell.
Beomgyu gives me no small amount of grief when I get home—partly because I went to Starbucks, and partly because I then had to walk two miles to get back home, and was late for dinner, which our father roundly chewed me out over.
“I hope whoever she was, she was worth it,” Beomgyu taunts.
I look at him blankly.
“Dude, don’t try to tell me you were just going for the coffee or the folk tunes they play on the speakers. I know you better than that.”
I remain silent.
I am assigned to wash all the dishes. While doing so, I turn on the radio, and when the local news comes on, Haruto Watanabe comes with it.
“So tell us, Haruto, what you experienced last Saturday,” the interviewer says.
“I was possessed. There’s no other word for it. I wasn’t in control of my own body. I consider myself lucky to be alive. And I want to ask anyone else who’s ever been possessed like this, just for a day, to contact me. Because, I’ll be honest with you, Chuck, a lot of people think I’m crazy. Other kids at school are making fun of me constantly. But I know what happened. And I know I’m not the only one.”
I know I’m not the only one.
This is the sentence that haunts me. I wish I felt the same certainty.
I wish I weren’t the only one.
Day 6004
The next morning I wake up in the same room.
In the same body.
I can’t believe it. I don’t understand. After all these years.
I look at the wall. My hands. The sheets.
And then I look to my side and see Soobin sleeping there in his bed.
Soobin.
And I realize: I’m not in the same body. I’m not on the same side of the room.
No, this morning I’m his twin, Beomgyu.
I have never had this chance before. I watch as Soobin emerges from sleep, emerges from a day away from his old body. I am looking for the traces of that oblivion, the bafflement of that waking. But what I get is the familiar scene of a football player stretching himself into the day. If he feels at all strange, at all different, he’s not showing it.
“Dude, what are you staring at?”
This doesn’t come from Soobin, but from our other brother, Yeonjun.
“Just getting up,” I mumble.
But really, I don’t take my eyes off Soobin. Not through the ride to school. Not at breakfast. He seems a little out of it now, but nothing that couldn’t be explained by a bad night’s sleep.
“How’re you doing?” I ask him.
He grunts. “Fine. Thanks for caring.”
I decide to play dumb. He expects me to be dumb, so it shouldn’t be much of a stretch.
“What did you do after practice yesterday?” I ask.
“I went to Starbucks.”
“Who with?”
He looks at me like I’ve just sung the question to him in falsetto.
“I just wanted coffee, okay? I wasn’t with anyone.”
I study him, to see if he’s trying to cover his conversation with Hanni. I don’t think, though, that such duplicity would be anything but obvious on him.
He really doesn’t remember seeing her. Talking to her. Being with her.
“Then why’d it take so long?” I ask him.
“What, were you timing it? I’m touched.”
“Well, who were you emailing at lunch?”
“I was just checking my email.”
“Your own email?”
“Who else’s email would I be checking? You’re asking seriously weird questions, dude. Isn’t he, Yeonjun?”
Yeonjun chews on some bacon. “I swear, whenever you two talk, I just tune it right out. I have no idea what you’re saying.”
Paradoxically, I wish I were still in Soobin’s body, so I could see exactly what his memories of yesterday are. From where I sit, it appears that he recalls the places he was, but has somehow concocted an alternate version of events, one that fits closer to his life. Has his mind done this, some kind of adaptation? Or did my mind, right before it left, leave behind this storyline?
Soobin does not feel like he was possessed by the devil.
He thinks yesterday was just another day.
Again, the morning becomes a search to find a few minutes’ worth of email access.
I should have given her my phone number, I think.
Then I stop myself. I stand there right in the middle of the hallway, shocked. It’s such a mundane, ordinary observation—but that’s what stops me. In the context of my life, it’s nonsensical. There was no way for me to give her a phone number. I know this. And yet, the ordinary thought crept in, made me trick myself for a moment into thinking that I, too, was ordinary.
I have no idea what this means, but I suspect it’s dangerous.
At lunch, I tell Soobin I’m going to the library.
“Dude,” he says, “libraries are for girls.”
There aren’t any new messages from Hanni, so I write to her instead.
Hanni,
You’d actually recognize me today. I woke up as Soobin’s twin. I thought this might help me figure things out, but so far, no luck.
I want to see you again.
Yn
There isn’t anything from Haruto, either. Once more I decide to type his name into a search engine, figuring there might be a few more articles about what he’s saying.
I find over two thousand results. All from the past three days.
Word is spreading. Mostly from evangelical Christian sites, which have bought Haruto’s devil claims wholesale. He is, for them, just another example of the world going to H-E-double-hockey-sticks.
From what I can recall, none of the many versions I heard as a child of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” spent that much time pondering the emotional state of the boy, especially after the wolf finally showed up. I want to know what Haruto is thinking, if he really believes what he’s saying. None of the articles and blogs are any help—he’s saying the same thing in all of them, and people are painting him as either a freak or an oracle. Nobody’s sitting him down and treating him like a sixteen-year-old boy. They are missing the real questions in order to ask the sensational ones. I open up his last email.
You can’t avoid my questions forever. I want to know who you are. I want to know why you do what you do.
Tell me.
But how can I respond without confirming at least part of the story he’s created? I feel that he’s right—in some way, I can’t avoid his questions forever. They will start to dig into me. They will follow me wherever I wake up. But to give him any answer will give him a reassurance I know I shouldn’t give. It will keep him on his path.
My best bet is for him to start feeling that he is, indeed, crazy. Which is an awful thing to wish upon someone. Especially when he’s not crazy.
I want to ask Hanni what to do. But I can imagine what she’d say. Or maybe I’m just projecting my better self onto her. Because I know the answer: Self-preservation isn’t worth it if you can’t live with the self you’re preserving.
I am responsible for his situation. So he’s become my responsibility.
I know this, even as I hate it.
I’m not going to write immediately. I need to give it some thought. I need to help him without confirming anything.
Finally, by last period, I think I have it.
I know who you are. I’ve seen your story on the news. It doesn’t have anything to do with me—you must have made a mistake.
Still, it appears to me that you’re not considering all the possibilities. I’m sure what happened to you was very stressful. But blaming the devil is not the answer.
I send it off quickly before football practice.
I also check for an email from Hanni.
Nothing.
The rest of the day is uneventful. And I find myself wondering once again when I started to think my days would contain actual events. Up until now, I have lived for uneventfulness, and have found smaller satisfaction in the art of getting by. I resent that the hours seem boring now, emptier. Going through the motions gives you plenty of time to examine the motions. I used to find this interesting. Now it has taken on the taint of meaninglessness.
I practice football. I get a ride home. I do some homework. I eat some dinner. I watch TV with my family.
This is the trap of having something to live for:
Everything else seems lifeless.
Soobin and I go to bed first. Yeonjun is in the kitchen, talking to our mother about his work schedule for the weekend. Soobin and I don’t say anything as we change into our sleep clothes, as we parade to the bathroom and back.
I get in bed and he turns out the light. I expect to hear him getting into bed next, but instead he hovers in the middle of the room.
“Beomgyu?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you ask me about what I was up to yesterday?”
I sit up. “I don’t know. You just seemed a little … off.”
“I just thought it was strange. You asking, I mean.”
He heads to his bed now. I hear his weight fall on the mattress.
“So nothing seemed off to you?” I ask, hoping that there will be something—anything—that rises to the surface.
“Not that I can think of. I thought it was pretty funny that Snyder had to end practice so he could go, like, learn how to help his babymama breathe. But I think that was the highlight. It’s just … do I seem off today, too?”
The truth is that I haven’t been paying that much attention, not since breakfast.
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I feel fine. I just don’t, you know, want to look like there’s something wrong when there’s nothing wrong.”
“You seem fine,” I assure him.
“Good,” he says, shifting his body, getting into the right position with his pillow.
I want to say more but don’t know what the words are supposed to be. I feel such a tenderness for these vulnerable nighttime conversations, the way words take a different shape in the air when there’s no light in the room. I think of the rare jackpot nights when I ended the day at a sleepover or shared the room with a sibling or a friend I genuinely liked. Those conversations could trick me into believing I could say anything, even though there was so much I was holding back. Eventually, the night would take its hold, but it would always feel like I was fading to sleep rather than falling.
“Good night,” I say to Soobin. But what I really feel is goodbye. I am leaving here, leaving this family. It’s only been two days, but that’s twice what I’m used to. It’s just a hint—the smallest hint—of what it would be like to wake up in the same place every morning.
I have to let that go.
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acaiasahi · 2 years ago
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✶ 4:30 pm ; watanabe haruto.
[ now playing . . . ] perfect playlist by ellie williams
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your footsteps come to a halt upon the gravel floor, the cherry blossom tree swaying softly as it shades your best friend under it. inhaling, you bring your footsteps back to life as you place one foot in front of the other.
steps getting hesitant as you get closer to the towering boy, you scrape up any remaining courage within you to walk up and tap him on the shoulder.
he whirls around, eyes catching yours with a soft smile. "hey, you," he says softly. a blush rises onto your cheeks, looking away because his gaze was too strong for your liking.
you keep a safe distance between him, the nerves of confessing get to you as your gaze never lets up from the floor. haruto takes the initiative, asking why you wanted to talk to him.
your body stays frozen, like time has stopped as your brain wracks through every single thought. the way your brain keeps you from opening your mouth almost wants to make you cry due to frustration.
letting out a airy chuckle, you look around everywhere but him. it doesn't bother him though, you've always been quite hesitant with him but this... feels different to him.
"what's up?" he asks, grabbing one of your hands and playing with it. he grazes his fingertips against your palm every so slightly, almost as if you'd break under any weight. you laugh at the ticklish feeling, pulling your hand away before looking up at him.
you sigh, "i don't want to be too forward, but i'm scared of this, whatever this is. i know this sounds stupid but, haruto, i want to eat pancakes for dinner with you. i want to watch tv with you, a-and i try to hide all my feelings for you but every time i see you, i just wanna shout about how much i absolutely love and adore you," you say breathlessly. his gaze softens even more and squeezes your hand, a silent way of telling you to keep going.
"i want to do all these boring, mundane things with you. only you, you are all i want." you finish off with a red face and you back away in embarrassment.
he shakes his head, unsure of what to say to your sudden confession but as he feels your warm body pull away from his, he reels you back in with a hug before leaving a ghostly kiss just above your temple.
"i love you too, and i'd love to eat pancakes for dinner with you," he says with a chuckle before bringing you into a kiss that makes you want to run to the highest mountain to scream about your love for him.
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★ treasure taglist. @yogurteume ... @tahyunwoo ... @h4chi ... @enhacolor ... @wonluvrb0t ... @alohajun ... @minisxng ... @setakdongies ... @ncizen ... @kyufilms ... @saeromiz ... @sunoo-bby ... @dancinginthetailight ... @seung-scrittore ... @sseastar-main ... @changmin-wrlds ... @hanjisungpark ... @existnesia ... @ily-cuz-i ... @yedamology
[ 🎧 ] jaydi's notes. just smth short bc i was listening to a song n wanted to write smth lol :3
© ACAIASAHI 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.
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svngho0ns · 3 years ago
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yn and friends!
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lee yn — our female lead. soloist under the black label. younger sister of nct mark lee. born in year 2002. she's a former trainee of sm entertainment for a year before moving to yg entertainment then yg decided to move her to black label because teddy wants her to his artist along with somi. former ballet dancer for 5 years.
park chaeyoung "rosé" — yn bestie no. 1. the two of them hang out a lot especially on the recording studio. writing and composing songs together. plans to have a collaboration 👀 (but you didn't hear that from me). her and yn met during mid 2018 when yn moved to yg. and also fan fact! yn looks up to rosé so much. yn's best unnie!
jang wonyoung — yn bestie no. 2. met during mama 2019, the two instantly clicked and have been bestfriends since them. the gretchen weiners because she knows everything out of everyone. yn source of tea. a very good investigator for yn.
haruto watanabe — besties. they met during trainee days, and yn is a fan of him since ygtb. used to like yn but kept his feelings when yn and sunghoon started dating. there's no day where he doesn't tease her. bicker a lot over small things but they love eachother tho.
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taglist. @hibuki-chan @aria-grace-scott @wony6ung @abdiitcryy @certainyouthpeanut
masterlist • next
author's note: i didn't notice the white mark on yn's other priv account 😭 but anyways it's saya "made this for something personal"
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moo-reads · 3 years ago
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TREASURE MASTERLIST
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bold + italics = top fave!
NEED TO READ
FAVORITES!
haruto | stranger by @jenohi - [9.6k]
haruto | eyes for you by @hoonbear - [5.3k]
last updated: 05/26/23 ✿
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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago
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had it | k.bakugou.
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♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 4.5K
♡ rating: everyone.
♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.
♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..
♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.
♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3
♡ masterlist | requests | kofi
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some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.
the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.
working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.
particularly this time, right around noon.
the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.
an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.
nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.
the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”
a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”
“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.
haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.
the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.
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katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.
being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.
the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.
‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’
bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“
“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”
the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.
‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’
your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.
“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”
the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.
nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”
happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.
you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.
“bakugou?”
“what? the fuck y’still here for?”
you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”
“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.
“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).
bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.
feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”
“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”
you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.
like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.
“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.
“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”
it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.
bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”
“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”
if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”
he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“
“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.
your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.
katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”
you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.
he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”
“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”
you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”
the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.
she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.
you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”
“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.
on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.
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extended ending:
“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”
you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.
taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”
“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.
“why not?”
your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.
but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”
bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.
setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.
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shuxiii · 2 years ago
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Everyday pt. 8
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Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13
a/n i am dying, credits ''every day'' david levithan
TW: homophobia
a/n me messing i saw hanni in edits today and pictures I had to make chapter 8, still credits all to ''every day'' by David levithan, edit: I'm losing my sanity
Day 6006
The phone rings.
I reach for it, thinking it’s Hanni.
Even though it can’t be.
I look at the name on the screen. Austin.
My boyfriend.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hugo! This is your nine a.m. wake-up call. I will be there in an hour. Go make yourself purdy.”
“Whatever you say,” I mumble.
There’s a lot I have to do in an hour.
First, there’s the usual getting up, getting showered, and getting dressed. In the kitchen, I can hear my parents talking loudly in a language I don’t know. It sounds like Spanish but isn’t Spanish, so I’m guessing it’s Portuguese. Foreign languages throw me—I have a beginner’s grasp of a few of them, but I can’t really access a person’s memory fast enough to pretend to be fluent in any of them. I access and find that Hugo’s parents are from Brazil. But that’s not going to help me understand them better. So I steer clear of the kitchen.
Austin is picking Hugo up to go to a gay pride parade in Annapolis. Two of their friends, William and Nicolas, will be coming along. It’s marked on Hugo’s calendar as well as his mind.
Luckily, Hugo has a laptop in his room—since it’s the weekend and a school computer isn’t an option, I am going to risk checking in. I quickly open my email and find something that Hanni sent only ten minutes ago.
Yn,
I hope it went well yesterday. I called her house just now and no one was home—do you think they’re getting help? I’m trying to take it as a good sign.
Meanwhile, here’s a link you need to see. It’s out of control.
Where are you today?
H
I click on the link beneath her initial and am taken to the home page of a big Baltimore tabloid website. The headline blares:
THE DEVIL AMONG US!
It’s Haruto’s story, but it’s not only Haruto’s story. This time there are five or six other people from the area claiming to have been possessed by the devil. Much to my relief, none of them besides Haruto are familiar to me. All of them are older than I am. Most claim to have been possessed for a time much longer than a single day.
I would think the reporter would have been more skeptical, but she buys the stories uncritically. She even links to other stories of demonic possession—death-row criminals who claimed they were under the influence of satanic forces, politicians and preachers who were caught in compromising positions and said that something very uncharacteristic had come over them. It all sounds very convenient.
I quickly run Haruto through a search engine and find more coverage. The story, it seems, is going wide.
In article after article, there is one person quoted. Essentially, he says the same thing every time:
“I have no doubt that these are cases of demonic possession,” says Rev. Anderson Poole, who has been counseling Watanabe. “These are textbook examples. The devil is nothing if not predictable.”
“These possessions should come as no surprise,” says Poole. “We as a society have been leaving the door wide open. Why wouldn’t the devil walk right in?”
People are believing this. The articles and posts in the comments sections are legion—all from people who see the devil’s work in everything.
Even though I should know better, I shoot off a quick email to Haruto.
I am not the devil.
I hit send, but I don’t feel any better.
I email Hanni, telling her how it went with Jiwon's father. I also let her know that I’m going to be in Annapolis for the day, and tell her what T-shirt I’m wearing and what I look like.
There’s a honk outside, and I see a car that must be Austin’s. I race through the kitchen and say a hurried goodbye to Hugo’s parents. Then I pile into the car—the boy in the passenger seat (William) moves into the back with the other boy (Nicolas) so I can sit next to my boyfriend. For his part, Austin takes one look at my outfit and tsk-tsks, “You’re wearing that to Pride?” But he’s joking. I think.
There is conversation around me the whole car ride, but I’m not really a part of it. My mind is completely elsewhere.
I shouldn’t have sent Haruto that email.
One simple line, but it admits too much.
From the moment we hit Annapolis, Austin is in his element.
“Isn’t this fun?” he keeps asking.
William, Nicolas, and I nod, agree. In truth, the Annapolis Pride events aren’t that elaborate—in many ways it feels like the navy has turned gay and lesbian for the day, and a ragtag assortment of people have come along to cheer it on. The weather is sunny and cool, and that seems to cheer everyone further. Austin likes to hold my hand and swing it like we’re walking down the yellow brick road. Ordinarily, I’d be charmed. He has every right to be proud, to enjoy this day. It’s not his fault I’m so distracted.
I’m looking for Hanni in the crowd. I can’t help it. Every now and then, Austin catches me.
“See someone you know?” he asks.
“No,” I say truthfully.
She’s not here. She hasn’t made it. And I feel foolish for expecting her to. She can’t just drop her life every time I’m available. Her day is no less important than mine.
We come to a corner where there are a few people protesting the festivities. I don’t understand this at all. It’s like protesting the fact that some people are red-haired.
In my experience, desire is desire, love is love. I have never fallen in love with a gender. I have fallen for individuals. I know this is hard for people to do, but I don’t understand why it’s so hard, when it’s so obvious.
One of the protestor’s signs catches my eye. HOMOSEXUALITY IS THE DEVIL’S WORK, it says. And once again I think about how people use the devil as an alias for the things they fear. The cause and effect is backward. The devil doesn’t make anyone do anything. People just do things and blame the devil after.
Predictably, Austin stops to kiss me in front of the protestors. I try to oblige. Philosophically, I am with him. But I’m not inside the kiss. I cannot manufacture the intensity.
He notices. He doesn’t say anything, but he notices.
I want to check my email on Hugo’s phone, but Austin isn’t letting me out of his sight. When William and Nicolas make a move to get some lunch, Austin says he and I are going to go our own way for a little while.
I assume we’re going to get lunch, too, but instead he pulls me into a hip clothing store and spends the next hour trying things on, with me giving my outside-the-changing-room opinion. At one point, he pulls me into the changing room to steal some kisses, and I oblige. But at the same time, I’m thinking that if we’re inside, there’s no way Hanni is going to find me.
While Austin debates whether the skinny jeans are skinny enough, I find myself wondering what Jiwon is doing at this moment. Is she unburdening herself, going along with it, or is she defiant, denying that she ever wanted help in the first place? I picture Beomgyu and Soobin in their rec room, playing video games, not having any sense that their week was disrupted. I think of Keeho later tonight, preparing his clothes for church tomorrow morning.
“What do you think?” Austin asks.
“They’re great,” I say.
“You didn’t even look.”
I can’t argue this. He’s right. I didn’t.
I look at him now. I need to pay more attention.
“I like them,” I tell him.
“Well, I don’t,” he says. Then he storms back into the changing room.
I haven’t been a good guest in Hugo’s life. I access his memories and discover that he and Austin first became boyfriends at this very celebration, a year ago this weekend. They’d been friends for a little while, but they’d never talked about how they felt. They were each afraid of ruining the friendship, and instead of making it better, their caution made everything awkward. So finally, as a pair of twentysomething men passed by holding hands, Austin said, “Hey, that could be us in ten years.”
And Hugo said, “Or ten months.”
And Austin said, “Or ten days.”
And Hugo said, “Or ten minutes.”
And Austin said, “Or ten seconds.”
Then they each counted to ten, and held hands for the rest of the day.
The start of it.
Hugo would have remembered this.
But I didn’t.
Austin senses something has changed. He comes back from the dressing room without any clothes in his arms, looks at me, and makes a decision.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says. “I don’t want to have this particular conversation in this particular store.”
He leads me down to the water, away from the celebration, away from the crowds. He finds a somewhat secluded bench and I follow him there. Once we sit down, it all comes out.
“You haven’t been with me once this whole day,” he says. “You aren’t listening to a word I say. You keep looking around for someone else. And kissing you is like kissing a block of wood. And today, of all days. I thought you said you were going to give it a chance. I thought you said you were snapping out of whatever it is that’s been afflicting you the past couple of weeks. I am sure I recall you saying there wasn’t anyone else. But maybe I’m mistaken. I was willing to bend over backward, Hugo. But I can’t bend over backward and walk around at the same time. I can’t bend over backward and have a conversation. I guess when it all comes down to it, I’m just not that damn flexible.”
“Austin, I’m sorry,” I say.
“Do you even love me?”
I have no idea if Hugo loves him or not. If I tried, I’m sure I could access moments when he loved him and moments when he didn’t. But I can’t answer the question and be sure I’m being truthful. I’m caught.
“My feelings haven’t changed,” I say. “I’m just a little off today. It has nothing to do with you.”
Austin laughs. “Our anniversary has nothing to do with me?”
“That’s not what I said. I mean my mood.”
Now Austin is shaking his head.
“I can’t do this, Hugo. You know I can’t do this.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” I ask, genuine fear in my voice. I can’t believe I’m doing this to both of them.
Austin hears the fear, looks at me and maybe sees something worth keeping.
“This isn’t the way I want today to go,” he says. “But I have to believe that it isn’t the way you want it to go, either.”
I can’t imagine that Hugo was planning to break up with Austin today. And if he was, he can always do it tomorrow.
“Come here,” I say. Austin moves in to me and I lean into his shoulder. We sit like that for a moment, looking at the ships on the bay. I take his hand. When I turn to look at him, he’s blinking back tears.
This time when I kiss him, I know there’s something in it. When he feels it, it may come across as love. It is my thanks to him for not ending it. It is my thanks to him for giving it at least one day more.
We stay out until late, and I am a good boyfriend the whole time. Eventually I lose myself a little in his life, dancing along with Austin, William, Nicolas, and a few hundred other gays and lesbians when the parade organizers blast the Village People’s “In the Navy.”
&n
bsp; I keep looking for Hanni, but only when Austin is distracted. And, at a certain point, I give up.
When I get home, there’s an email from her:
Yn,
Sorry I couldn’t make it to Annapolis—there were some things I had to do.
Maybe tomorrow?
H
I wonder what the “things I had to do” were. I have to assume they involve Minji, because otherwise, wouldn’t she have told me what they were?
I’m pondering this when Austin texts me to say he ended up having a great day. I text him back and say I had a great day, too. I can only hope that’s the way Hugo remembers it, because now Austin has proof if he denies it.
Hugo’s mother comes in and says something to me in Portuguese. I only get about half of it.
“I’m tired,” I tell her in English. “I think it’s time for bed.”
I don’t think I’ve addressed her questions, but she just shakes her head—I am a typical, unforthcoming teenager—and heads back to her room.
Before I go to sleep, I decide to see if Haruto has written me back.
He has.
Two words.
Prove it.
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h4chi · 3 years ago
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fics rec : TREASURE !
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NOTE hello! i finally decided to make a fics rec so that it’s easier for others to find fics and i’ll also use this to keep in track and come back to the ones i really enjoyed reading! i hope you’ll find this useful :) also, i won’t be adding my fics. lol. ofc. + i’ll keep updating those! also feel free to send suggestions :P
i’ll use ☆ to note my personal faves ! additional info is written after the author :)
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ot12
you accidentally hurt yourself by @teumez
late-night drives part 1 | part 2 by @hikunn
reaction to arguing hyung | middle | maknae line by @acaiasahi
reaction to s/o playing basketball hyung | middle | maknae line by @acaiasahi
treasure reacts to their older crush by @acaiasahi
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choi hyunsuk
jihoon
you’ve got to be kitten me by @acaiasahi fluff, one shot
i love you the meow-st by @acaiasahi fluff, one shot
yoshi
junkyu
i like you, but i’m a little chai by @acaiasahi fluff, one shot
mashiho
no promises by @acaiasahi fluff, one shot
yoon jaehyuk
(you’re) tugging on my heartstrings by @ravenori fluff, strangers to lovers, one shot
asahi
bang yedam
☆ under the rainclouds, falling into you by @ravenori fluff, one shot
this side of paradise by @illyzo angst, fluff, one shot
doyoung
slope intercept by @hikunn fluff, one shot
your idiot, idiot! by @acaiasahi fluff, enemies to lovers, one shot
noise complaint by @luvbrie fluff, soulmates au
dwindling sunlight, blue skies by @ravenori fluff, enemies to lovers, one shot
haruto
mario kart and i love you’s by @acaiasahi fluff, one shot
if i know what love is, it’s because of you by @ravenori fluff, one shot
☆ young-luv.com by @koakyuu fluff, enemies to lovers, one shot
jenga !? by @uwoodobi fluff, one shot
minecraft bee killer by @acaiasahi fluff, one shot
park jeongwoo
a lack of communication by @teumez angst, fluff, one shot
☆ live by @uwoodobi fluff, one shot
hug me or leave me by @milkybonya fluff, one shot
only you and you only by @dazedhypen fluff, slight angst, one shot
what a cat-astrophe by @acaiasahi fluff, one shot
to us, who were beautiful by @ravenori fluff, angst, one shot
so junghwan
glazed donut by @yoshiikore fluff, one shot
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amakumos · 3 years ago
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formula of love ; twelve - dense as hell
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― synopsis: chemistry with miss kim was known to be the worst class to every student at your school - but you don’t quite mind it, because of your deskmate yang jungwon (that you might have had just a tiny crush on). but one day, jungwon is missing from his seat - and he never returns for the rest of the school year. the next time you see his face is when a picture of him pops up on your twitter feed, and you learn that he’s now… an idol? ― genre: classmates to lovers, smau, crack, fluff, mutual pining ― pairing: idol! jungwon x fem! reader ― warnings: swearing, reader is dense as hell lol, ignore timestamps ― taglist (second batch is open, send an ask to be added!): @giyyuzz @minkyeos @shiningstarsarah @yolk-ashi @sunysunoo @meiiiwa @ncityy04 @instahann @ja4hyvn @sheepgardenenha @isaluv @hyuckslvr @dyingmocha @icywhatim @lokideadontheinside @hajik0ko @xithecherie @tomorrowbymoa-together @yenart @youreverydayzebra @enhas-bestie @hobistigma @primorange @honeybutterchup @msxflower @meijiamikas @ddeonubaby @jaemsluvr @mishtidoie @heelariously @hiqhkey @lumixen @angelicncity @shinsou-rii @tlnyjoong @itzxvaxella @nashionalpotatocorner @dinosdance @yurazuyori @wonkiluvr @yula09 @reallysmolrenjun​ @iamnotgrootforiamthor @xtra-cheese @vampsvngie @gyuulvr @yougeans @woniebae​ @junnnoooo​ @tenten-67​ @bllatrixcarpnter
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previous / masterlist / next
authors note: dear jungy/n fans i am so sorry. but guys i hope u know yn is DUMB AS HELL she thinks it’s like a friend hangout. but this also means haruto is in the friendzone.
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amakumos · 3 years ago
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formula of love ; ten - banging my head on the wall
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― synopsis: chemistry with miss kim was known to be the worst class to every student at your school - but you don’t quite mind it, because of your deskmate yang jungwon (that you might have had just a tiny crush on). but one day, jungwon is missing from his seat - and he never returns for the rest of the school year. the next time you see his face is when a picture of him pops up on your twitter feed, and you learn that he’s now… an idol? ― genre: classmates to lovers, smau, crack, fluff, mutual pining ― pairing: idol! jungwon x fem! reader ― warnings: swearing, reader is dense as hell lol, ignore timestamps ― taglist (second batch is open, send an ask to be added!): @giyyuzz @minkyeos @shiningstarsarah @yolk-ashi @sunysunoo @meiiiwa @ncityy04 @instahann @ja4hyvn @sheepgardenenha @isaluv @hyuckslvr @dyingmocha @icywhatim @lokideadontheinside @hajik0ko @xithecherie @tomorrowbymoa-together @yenart @youreverydayzebra @enhas-bestie @hobistigma @primorange @honeybutterchup @msxflower @meijiamikas @ddeonubaby @jaemsluvr @mishtidoie @heelariously @hiqhkey @lumixen @angelicncity @shinsou-rii @tlnyjoong @itzxvaxella @nashionalpotatocorner @dinosdance @yurazuyori @wonkiluvr @yula09 @reallysmolrenjun​ @iamnotgrootforiamthor @xtra-cheese @vampsvngie @gyuulvr @yougeans @woniebae​ @junnnoooo​ @tenten-67​ @bllatrixcarpnter
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“Jungwon!” 
Your voice rings out, and Jungwon turns around so fast, which alarms Jay and makes him jolt up in surprise. “You came!” Jungwon runs up to you, and he takes the plastic shopping bag filled with food that you had bought from the convenience store. 
“Is that bungeoppang?” 
Riki towers over you, and you have to look up at him in order to make eye contact with him. “Why are you so tall?” you ask, and Riki chuckles. “He’s still growing, you know.” Jungwon pipes up, taking a sip of the coffee you had brought him. 
“Haruto, meet my friend!” Jungwon doesn’t even notice that Haruto is standing there in bewilderment until you bring him up. “Uh, nice to meet you. My name’s Jungwon, but I assume you already know that.” he says politely, giving him a small nod. 
He can practically hear Jay snickering. 
“My sister’s a huge fan of yours,” Haruto says, and Jungwon nods. “That’s cool. Thank her for me.” Jungwon says, faking a smile - which Sunoo notices, and gives him a knowing look.
“(Name), where’s you know him from, by the way?” Haruto pipes up, and Jungwon grimaces. “Oh, he was my deskmate in Chemistry before!” you smile, and Haruto nods. “Ah, so I assume I must’ve gotten his seat.” he says with a smirk that he directs at Jungwon, and Jungwon presses his lips into a thin line.
The members might have to restrain him soon, because he has the overwhelming urge to knock him out.
“I guess so. But Jungwon was a great deskmate! He always brought me candy on test day, which you know is pretty common in Miss Kim’s class.” you say, smiling at Jungwon.
Haruto puts two and two together fairly quickly - he’s sure that Jungwon likes you. Haruto sees the way that Jungwon looks at you with such adoration, and even though he’s only known you for a couple of weeks, he somehow feels... jealous.
Jungwon doesn’t miss the death glare that Haruto sends him, and in return, he sends one back.
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previous / masterlist / next
authors note: when formula of love! haruto’s sister is an engene 😍😍❤️‍🔥☝️ anyways place ur bets on whos gonna tell yn abt their feelings first
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h4chi · 3 years ago
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— # DRUNK
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SUMMARY when a drunk confession accidentally slips between the couple who supposedly hated each other during a pj party.
GENRE romance, friends to enemies to lovers kinda
WARNINGS underage drinking :P kissing / making out. a little bit angst, features some of the treasure members and two ocs, jeongwoo is a lil flirty at the end, not proofread, english is not my first language
PAIRING jeongwoo x female reader
WORD COUNT 789
NOTE help it’s not letting me edit this from my computer so I can’t add the cut... which is bothering me quite a lot but I’ll have to live w it </3
TREASURE MASTERLIST !
your head was spinning so hard. you couldn't quite recall how many cups of soju you drank, but they were sure enough for your body to hardly swallow.
today hyunsuk decided to invite your friend group for a sleepover you all have been wanting to throw sometime but never really had the time to organize. it was you, hyunsuk, jihoon, yujin, junkyu, hana, haruto and jeongwoo.
now, this wasn't really what you were expecting.
you and jeongwoo recently had an argument over some stupid game you couldn't even remember, yet the both of you didn't want to give up before the other. it was just like a childish competition to see who would've lasted longer. therefore hyunsuk assured you he wasn't going to invite jeongwoo, yet it looked like he told the same thing to the other guy from how he was looking at you.
you all decided to play spin the bottle with a little twist, drinking when you didn't want to share a kiss.
now, this was quite embarrassing. you’ve always seen this in movies but never really played, also because you haven’t attended any parties lately.
those were indeed your best friends, but the thought of kissing one of them made you extremely embarrassed for no reason. "it's just a simple peck, yn!" jihoon tried persuading you, much to your dismay succeeding also with a hand from hyunsuk.
so you were all sitting in a circle, an empty bottle of beer in the middle.
you were only picked thrice, having to kiss your friend yujin. for some reasons it didn't feel awkward, and you were glad for that. still, you decided to pass and drink when junkyu and haruto came up, because you couldn't bare with thinking back at what would've happened if you'd agreed, and with the teasing from the rest of the group too.
now it was jeongwoo's turn, and you felt your hands suddenly sweating. you rubbed them against the cloth of your jeans, trying to ease the uncomfortable sensation.
the bottle was taking a bit too much time to slow down, and the anxiety that came with it gradually devouring you.
when the bottle came to a stop, you swear your heart stopped beating right on the spot. the air in the room seemed to get thicker at how hard it became for you to breathe.
the bottle stopped in your direction.
it felt as if the universe was playing with you. you raised your eyes to meet jeongwoo's, who was already looking your way.
the rest of the group suddenly stopped talking, and you could feel yourself getting hotter second by second, very much probably not only because of the alcohol. jeongwoo was about to grab his drink when you moved forward, a hand placed on his cheek, and you left a soft kiss on his lips.
you pulled away immediately, not bothering though of moving from the position you previously assumed. it was like time stopped because jeongwoo didn't waste a second before pulling you back to a more heated kiss. suddenly your friends disappeared from your sight as you closed your eyes, wanting to favor everything about the moment you were sharing.
the kiss was definitely deep, many emotions silently being shared in a way only the two of you could understand.
he was the one to pull away first, probably because he realized how the room had gotten embarrassingly silent.
you both went back to your seats as if nothing ever happened, yet you couldn't get the feeling of his lips on yours away. the struggle was shared, because as soon as you all went to bed, you felt someone stand und up and go to the kitchen. as you yourself couldn't close eye, you decided to go see who it was.
"park jeongwoo." he turned around, a glass of water in his hand, messy hair and glasses laid gracefully on his nose bridge. you took your time admiring him from afar, just enjoying the view.
then you moved forward, the alcohol running freely through your body having the best on you. "i have a crush on you. i've had one for quite a while, actually… yeah, i think i really like you."
you were rambling. it was something that happened often while you were drunk. and also because of the latter, your reflexes were late, and you didn't realize jeongwoo had moved from his previous position until he was standing in front of you, a hand gently holding your wrist.
"you know, i think i like you too. but i'm not sure."
you quirked and eyebrow, tilting your head.
"...and what do you want me to do about it?"
"kiss me again? so i can be sure."
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h4chi · 3 years ago
Text
— # LOVESICK
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request  hiii i really like your xoxo doyoung one!! can i req like that too for asahi? like bestfriend to lovers
NOTE omg this turned out so bad…. also idk if this is what you really wanted i’m so sorry TT i’ll do asahi better next time </3 oh this is so not proofread but i’m tired i’ll fix it later
SUMMARY after a hard week, you go back to asahi’s to record demos for his new tracks as usual, but this time he doesn’t want to let you go.
GENRE best friends to lovers
PAIRING (idol/producer?) asahi x gn reader
WARNINGS a lil angst perhaps? not proofread, english is not my first language.
WORD COUNT 857
TREASURE MASTERLIST !
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It had become a routine for you to visit your best friend in his dorm every evening. He would play some random tunes, clearly some music he was working on, and you would occasionally join him.
It was spontaneous for you to hum the first melody that ran through your head. Asahi was aware of your passion for singing, and later asked you to sing for his demos. At first you were taken aback, but you couldn’t decline such an opportunity, and moreover if it was your best friend asking.
“Yn, let’s try this one.” You nodded, placing down your now empty water bottle. It was 8.24 p.m., and you were still at Asahi’s. It has been 3 hours since you entered the complex, and you were slowly growing tired.
You were trying a few melodies for the new R&B tune he was working on, yet you couldn’t quite focus or come up with anything original. You hadn’t seen Asahi for a whole week when he last acted weird towards you. He was more distant, almost as you were strangers. You tried not to think about it much, but you couldn’t stop yourself from overthinking whatever you must’ve done for him to act that way.
Asahi noticed how your voice sounded different from the other times, but decided not to ask you anything, or at least for the moment.
Yet he was also not feeling quite well himself. It started a week ago when he started having chest pain just by looking at you. So, he tried distancing himself, to see if the pain would go away. And it did.
But now that you’re back, he was having a hard time maintaining a steady breathing. It was all a chaos in his little head, but from the outside, no one would’ve ever noticed him struggling.
He decided to ask his friend Haruto about it, in the hopes of getting a helpful answer out of it.
“I think you like her.”
This was not helpful at all. “What do I do about it?”
“I don’t know, man. Confess. She’s your best friend after all. If she doesn’t reciprocate your feeling, you could keep being friends.”
You were about to fall asleep, the room long gone dark, the dim neon lights only making the air feel cozier.
“Sahi, I think I’m going to go home.” He turned around spinning his chair, his hands still on the piano keys. “Oh, okay.” He wanted to ask you to stay and spend the night with him but instead he kept quiet, which you took as a sign to leave. You closed the door behind you, the sound of your steps disappearing quickly.
Confess. Haruto’s words kept replaying in the back of his head. Asahi was afraid of rejection, but more so of loosing you. He didn’t want to let you go, not today. But his friend was right. It’s now or never.
Only two seconds passed, but it felt like hours for him. He quickly stood up, running your way. You were about to set your foot out of the entrance door when suddenly you heard loud and heavy footsteps from behind, and you turned to a breathless Asahi.
“Uhm, did I forget anything?” your best friend was quick to shake his head, taking your hands in his cold ones.
“Please, stay here?” you only nodded, Asahi leading the way.
The air in his room was now thicker, the both of you not daring to speak. Asahi was busy burying himself in his little embarrassment hole while you kept overthinking everything that happened in the last week. Was he sick?
“Is anything the matter, Sahi?”
You sat up on his bed as your friend turned around on his chair.
“No, I just…” Now or never. Confess. “Every time I see you, I don’t feel very good.”
“Well, thank you-”
“Yn, let me finish. It started last week. I don’t know if you’ve noticed. But that’s why I started distancing myself. And it worked! It worked until today.” You scoffed. Was he here to brag about how bad you made him feel? Did he fake for all these years just because he pitied you?
“Is this what you wanted to tell me? That you want to throw our friendship away?”
“It’s because I’m in love with you, Yn.”
“What?”
“I’m in love with you. And I only realized now.” Asahi stood up, finally mustering up all the courage he had. “I don’t want you to reciprocate my feelings. I just want you to know how I feel because I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend, after all.”
You sighed, trying to hide your smile. You also stood up, now only a few centimeters separating your face from your best friend’s.
“I would’ve never guessed you’d be the first to confess.”
Asahi was fast to understand, and went in for a tight hug.
“I’m sorry you had to feel that way.”
“No, it’s okay. At least now I can ask you to be my girlfriend.” You laughed, him leaving a kiss on your forehead.
“Not if I do it before you.”
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