#i really love this AU and it's honestly only just gotten started

[x-i-l-verify]

Artificial Grass AU???

TWO takers for Artificial Grass, my goodness. :p

Alright, so basically, it’s a story that takes the aesthetics of this Kpop MV

and this one

and combines them into one cohesive narrative. Both MVs have very similar aesthetics, All Night is just much lighter and softer and has none of the ominous undertones that Scentist does. Which is how you get an urban fantasy AU where a team of six scientists create artificial plant/human hybrids to assist them in their attempts to return life back to their little corner of a post-apocalyptic, magical version of Korea.

-

The small hybrid gave a satisfied trill as he settled on Hakyeon’s lap and leaned fully into the warmth of his chest, nuzzling his head under his chin with a deep, content sigh.

“Well, hello to you, too, little guy,” Hakyeon said with a breathless chuckle, arms coming up reflexively to wrap around the creature. 8 hummed serenely in response and nestled deeper into his embrace, and some deep, primal part of Hakyeon’s hindbrain that he’d been trying very, very hard to keep in check finally roared fully to life. He’d made this. He’d made this. He’d made this small, unique, trusting, incredible little being, and it was warm, and alive, and his, his his his, and the sudden rush of fierce, protective, exhilarating love that filled his heart at this realization took his breath away.

However, amidst the intense, chaotic, euphoric whirlwind of wonderment and delight and overwhelming affection taking up the majority of his thoughts, a remaining small part of his mind that liked to call itself rational was yelling things about objectivity and emotional compromisation in a tone that sounded suspiciously like Hongbin’s. He did his best to ignore it.

“Now would be a good time to start preventing attachment, hyung.” Speak of the devil…

“We want them to like at least some of us, Hongbin,” Hakyeon replied, waving the younger scientist off. He was suddenly very glad of the fact that his back was to the camera. “It’ll make our job much easier in the long run.”

[navybrat817]

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mrsshabana]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, age difference, angst, fluff, daddy issues, mommy issues, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 5k words. I want to thank everyone who was so excited for this fic, your kind words really encouraged me to write so much! I hope you enjoy it and keep an eye out for chapter two ♡ ✧:･ﾟ→ Part two ✧:･ﾟ→ Part three

This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in Gyutaro’s pathetic life since his sister was accepted into college. 

His life is nothing special really, and it never has been. Always taking care of his little sister was his number one priority so his needs and wants were always put on the back burner. Not like he had much of a choice anyway. With a face like that, how are you supposed to get anywhere in life? He’s thirty-five and has never had a romantic partner, but no surprise there. His personality is unpleasant and he doesn’t have much going for him. His job is alright and he can afford to support himself and his sister but that’s about it. 

By now he’s come to accept the fact that some things just aren’t in the cards for him. Things like a wife and maybe even kids. As he got older he found himself longing for these things more and more. Especially when he witnessed all of his friends getting married and starting families of their own. But now at his age, no woman would want to get with him, let alone start a family.

At first, he was mad at the world and everyone in it. It wasn’t fair that he was denied love just because he had a few spots on his face, crooked teeth, and was a bit rough around the edges. The jealousy and anger ate at him for many years, causing his personality to become bitter and cold. On the outside, he seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t care about love, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Since he grew up without receiving any love from his mother, it was always something that he craved, even as an adult.

But he grew up, and he had no choice but to realize this was his reality and there was no changing it. It was hard to accept, but he’s finally come to peace with it. At least he has Ume, and honestly, he’s grateful for that. 

But now, you came into his life and things are beginning to take an interesting turn. 

You’re Ume’s friend from college, she’s a year older than you but you got to know her well in one of your math classes. Ume hates math so she waited until her senior year to take it, which she is starting to regret now. The only upside to the situation is that she met you.

Having gotten pretty close to Ume over the course of the semester, she would often invite you over to her place. You’ve heard her talk about her brother before but you had never met him since he was usually at work when you came over. But when you saw him for the first time, he wasn’t what you had expected. He looked a lot different than the image you had in your mind and he was a lot less friendly than Ume had described him. But even though most of the time he was in a bad mood, he’d be polite to you for the brief moments he was around. 

The first thing you noticed about him was how tall he was and how deep and raspy his voice sounded. It was oddly attractive, especially when paired with his messy black hair. You knew he was older than Ume but he didn’t look that old. The only thing that maybe signified his age were the dark circles around his eyes, probably from being overworked. 

Gyutaro never expected to get close to his little sister’s best friend. It’s something he never would have considered, but your actions are causing him to rethink his stance on your almost nonexistent relationship.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

One night you’re studying over at Ume’s place again. The two of you sit in the dining room, with notebooks, pens, and textbooks spread across the table. Midterms are coming up so you’re trying really hard to get some studying done. Even though Ume keeps getting distracted and scrolling through TikTok.

You’ve almost lost your sanity with this study session when you hear the front door unlocking. 

Gyutaro, looking as tired as usual, walks into the house. Kicking off his shoes and throwing his bag on the floor. He barely even acknowledges you as he walks past saying, “Girls, can you please clean the table.”

“Mm hm,” Ume hums as she continues looking at her phone screen. 

He knows she isn’t going to do as he asks, but he always asks anyway. Today has been a long day and Gyutaro just wishes he could go to sleep but he knows he has a household to take care of. So he hurriedly rushes over to the bathroom and takes a quick shower. Coming out with messy damp hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. He goes straight to his bedroom, but you manage to catch a glimpse of him through the hall. 

The way his long hair sticks to his muscled shoulders and back distracts you. And even after he’s gone from your sight, the heavenly image is still stuck in your mind. 

“Will I ever get a break?” he thinks to himself as he puts on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, “As soon as I’m done cooking I’m passing out.” It’s only 8 pm but after another overtime shift, he’s pooped. Ume’s lucky he loves her so much, or else he would just make her eat a Lean Cuisine for dinner.

He doesn’t even bother to brush his hair and just heads straight towards the kitchen. But on his way, he’s met with something that surprises him. 

“You actually cleaned the table?” he says in shock.

“No, she did,” Ume points to you without even looking up from her phone. 

Gyutaro scowls and hits Ume in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper, “What’s the matter with you? It’s rude to make your guest clean!”

“Hey!! Cut it out!! I didn’t tell her to, she did it on her own!” Ume whines.

“Still, you should have cleaned it yourself,” he grumbles and throws the newspaper to the side, “Y/N, I’m sorry. Please stay for dinner, that’s the least I could offer you for helping my sister since she’s too lazy to do anything on her own.”

“No no, it’s ok! I don’t want to put more work on your plate -”

“I insist,” he smiles and begins preparing the ingredients. 

Ume pays no attention to the matter, as you admire her brother while he works away in the kitchen. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he takes a sip and sighs before he begins washing some vegetables. 

You sit there and stare at his muscles, admiring the way they move along with noticing the tattoo on his upper arm. The way his hair falls in his face, and he tries to push it away with his wrist while his hands hold ingredients. 

This is something you’ve never had before. A man who takes care of you. It’s something new for you, and quite frankly you’re a bit jealous of Ume. It must be nice to have someone who takes care of her like Gyutaro does. Especially since your father was never around, it feels comforting being in this kind of atmosphere with Gyutaro and his sister. 

The loud clattering of metal hitting the floor snaps you out of the trance you were in. It seems that Gyutaro dropped a knife because he had almost fallen asleep. You can see his eyes closing slowly as he shakes his head in an attempt to wake himself up. Even though you barely know him, the sight makes you feel bad for him. He must be so exhausted, yet he’s determined to make dinner for his little sister. 

“Hey, do you need any help?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen. 

“N-no, thank you though.” He tries to brush you off and continue cooking but you stop him, grabbing his wrist and taking the utensils out of his hand. “It’s ok really, you seem exhausted. Plus I like cooking so it’s no biggie!” You smile and try to lead him away from the kitchen.

“What? No! You’re our guest it’d be rud-”

“Onii-chan just let her do it! She’s offering, stop being so stubborn!” Ume chimes in.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re a bad host. You’ve been nothing but welcoming to me, I just want to help out,” you lead him over to the couch and force him to sit down, “Everyone deserves a break once in a while.”

“But I-” his sentence trails off as he watches you walk away, not giving him any say in the matter. He feels incredibly guilty for letting you cook. But his body is too tired to fight it, and you no longer hear any complaints from him.

Looking around the kitchen you scan what Gyutaro had set up. There’s a pot of boiling water on the stove, a pan with oil in it, some half-cut tomatoes, a box of pasta, and an unopened package of meat. You can only assume that he was trying to make spaghetti. Luckily for you, it’s easy enough and something you’ve made countless times before. 

After about 30 minutes you have all of the food prepared. You make a plate for yourself, Ume, and Gyutaro. 

“Thanks, Y/N!” Ume exclaims as she finally puts down her phone and takes her plate. 

Next, you walk over to Gyutaro to give him his food, but he’s already passed out on the couch. The bottle of beer still in his hand, half full. 

“Poor thing,” you whisper to yourself, “Guess it’ll just be Ume and I for now.” You take the plate to the table and eat with Ume, opting that it’s probably best to let Gyutaro sleep. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

His stomach rumbles and his eyes are heavy as he slowly opens them, looking around at his surroundings. Confused for a moment as he forgot where he was. The living room is dark and quiet and he can’t quite remember why or how he fell asleep here. 

But then he looks over at the coffee table and remembers everything. His bottle is placed aptly beside a plate full of delicious looking pasta. Neatly wrapped in plastic wrap with a note reading, Enjoy! :)

“No way,” he mumbles as he tears off the plastic and begins to dig in. His eyes roll to the back of his head when the delicious food hits his tongue. Things taste so much better when someone else makes them. And honestly, he can’t recall how many years it’s been since someone has cooked him a meal. Five? Possibly ten? Either way, he savors the moment.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

That meal has been on Gyutaro’s mind for days now. Never forgetting the taste and the gratifying feeling of eating a meal that was carefully prepared by someone else. It was amazing. And you’ve been on his mind ever since that night.

He told Ume to thank you since he didn’t have your number, and he really hopes she actually did it and didn’t just blow him off like she usually does.

As he drives home from work he can’t help but think of how nice it would be to come home to one of your home-cooked meals. It’s become a fantasy of his to imagine this on his drives home after a long shift. The thought brings him some comfort even though he knows it will never become a reality.

And just as he was driving through downtown he saw someone familiar. It was you, standing beneath one of the street lights as a strange man loomed over you. He appeared to be talking to you, but your body language looked as if you were very uncomfortable with the situation. 

The strange man appeared to be around Gyutaro’s age and all he could think was, “C’mon man, you’re too old to be doing this shit to a young girl. You should know better.” He rolls his eyes and pulls over next to the sidewalk. 

With a deep, tired sigh, he gets out of the car and yells, “Hey Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

At first, the sudden voice calling out to you startles you, but as soon as you see that it’s Ume’s brother you feel like you’ve been saved. The strange man looks over at Gyutaro too, giving him a confused look.

“We’re gonna be late for that movie,” Gyutaro smiles as if everything is normal and walks up to you, “Oh, who’s this? Do I know this guy?”

“Uh n-no, I don’t think you know him,” you say nervously. 

Gyutaro nods and takes your hand, “Sorry man, but we gotta go. We’re gonna miss the premier if we don’t get going now.” 

The stranger seems convinced and walks off as Gyutaro leads you back to his car. Opening the door for you, as he watches the man walk away. Making sure he’s gone for good. 

You don’t hesitate to get into his car, a huge wave of relief washing over you once you’re safely inside. 

As soon as Gyutaro gets into the car he scolds you, “What the hell were you doing out here by yourself?” His eyes scan your form, and he notices you’re wearing a short dress.

“I was out with some friends,” you say shyly, “and I wanted to go home, but everyone else wanted to stay out…” 

He sighs and starts the car, “You can’t walk around like that, creepy guys are gonna flock towards you. It’s dangerous.”

“I know, I was so stupid for doing that… B-but thank you so much for helping me, Gyutaro! You really saved me there,” you feel tears well up in your eyes as you imagine what might have happened to you if Gyutaro never showed up. 

“Hey hey, it’s alright,” his expression softens, “You’re ok now, that’s all that matters. And from now on if you need a ride just call me, ok?”

“R-really? I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything…”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re Ume’s friend. I’d do it for Ume so I’d do it for you too. Besides, I work around here so it’s no big deal,” he smiles and hands you his phone so you can put your number in.

“Thanks. Ume’s really lucky to have a big brother like you,” you say as you finish creating your contact in his phone.

“I try my best I guess, heh if only Ume heard you say that. Anyway, where do you live?”

“Oh, right! It’s super close to here,” you type the directions into his phone navigation, “I really owe you for this, Gyutaro! What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Wh-what? No no no, you don’t have to do anything,” he gets a bit flustered as he begins driving towards your place. 

“Come on! You did so much for me, it’s the least I could do! Ooh, how about I cook something for you?” You raise your eyebrows and smile, trying to convince him. 

When he hears your plea, it’s like his prayers were answered. 

“... well, I can’t say no to that.”

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

The long-awaited day has finally come. The day that you will bring over some home-cooked meals to Gyutaro’s house. He’s been anticipating this ever since you promised it to him.

You come over holding tons of containers of food, much more than he had expected. 

“Woah, let me help you,” he says as he holds the front door open and takes one of the bags out of your hand.

“Ah, thanks. I didn’t realize how much food I made until I had to pack it all up,” you laugh and walk into his home. Placing the food on the table, you neatly snack boxes of prepared meals. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, a bit confused. He was expecting you to bring over a big container full of food, not a bunch of small ones. 

“I know you work a lot and stuff. So, I thought it’d be better if I packed everything up into individual meals so you can just grab them and take them to work. Less prep work for you. I hope that’s alright…”

Gyutaro is truly left speechless, unable to believe that you not only put so much effort into this but also so much consideration as well. Still in disbelief, he takes one of the neatly packed boxes and opens it up. Inside he’s met with a delicious meal separated neatly, and even a small dessert tucked into the side. The sight is beautiful, but the smell is what really makes him salivate. 

“Wow,” he smiles, “I-I don’t know what to say. This is amazing, thank you.” 

He begins to choke up. After so many years of taking care of his sister, always worrying about her needs, caring for her, stepping up and being that guardian that she needed, never once did someone stop to ask him what he wanted. Let alone go out of their way to take care of him. And for once, just once, he gets a taste of what it feels like to be cared for. Nurtured. And it’s a feeling he wishes he never had to let go of.

All of the emotions he’s kept in for so long finally pour out of him. Your kindness and consideration force his walls to crumble. And his eyes begin to water as he pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask as you immediately notice that something isn’t right.

It takes him a moment to compose himself, “I-I’m ok,” he rasps, “Just… I really appreciate you doing this. It’s been so long since someone has done something for me…”

“Well, you deserve it,” you smile and try to comfort him by rubbing his back, “I can tell you work really hard. My mom is the same way. So I understand.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and quickly composes himself, “A-Anyway, I’m going to try one right now. It smells great.” He quickly tries to change the subject partially because he’s embarrassed, but also because he genuinely cannot wait to taste your cooking again.

The food still feels warm so he rushes into the kitchen to grab a fork, and he sits at the table and digs in. Immediately as the food hits his tongue he lets out a groan of satisfaction. 

“Mmph, ooh my god,” he says right before he shoves another spoonful into his mouth, “so good!”

“I’m glad you like it,” you smile and sit beside him at the table, “These recipes are super easy and budget-friendly, so I can give them to you if you want.”

“Please! Mmph, that’d be great,” he swallows another big bite, “Where’d you learn to cook so well?”

“I just learned over time. It’s always just been my mom and I, my dad was never around,” you sigh, “So I kinda had to learn how to take care of myself since my mom always had two jobs. I would always make food for us to ease her workload. And I’ve always enjoyed cooking so I never minded.”

“Wait, for real?” he looks surprised, “My mom was never around! Man, it fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So you understand how I feel!” you smile despite talking about something upsetting, “So, your dad was the one that raised you?”

“Basically,” he nods as he licks his fork clean, “My mom wouldn’t let my dad come around much, even though she wasn’t around much herself. I was pretty much on my own till my mom  died and my dad took us in.”

Watching him talk about his past, you get the impression that it’s something he doesn’t often talk about. His body language alone is enough to tell you that. But the two of you feel some type of connection having shared a similar childhood experience.

“Your dad sounds like a good man,” you smile, “I think he’d be very proud of you.”

He looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of sadness and appreciation. “Thanks… he really was the best. But sometimes I just wish I could have had a normal family.”

“Yeah I totally get it,” you sigh, “That’s why I always told myself I’d try to give my future kid the best life I can.  I want to give them the childhood I never had…” You trail off, thinking about the future you hope will become a reality one day. 

“Exactly!” he shouts, “That’s exactly what I told myself too! I always wanted a family so I could do things right.”

He seems excited at first but his expression quickly shifts to one of sadness. 

“But it’s too late for me to have a family,” he continues, looking down as he opens up about one of his biggest failures, “Oh well, if Ume ever has kids I’ll just try to be the best uncle I can.”

“Why would you say it’s too late?” you tilt your head to the side, confused.”

“Y/N, I’m thirty-five years old. I’m too old to start a family… Besides most women my age are done having kids. Not that any woman would want to be with me anyways.” He frowns, being reminded of how he failed to fulfill one of the only dreams he’s ever had. 

“Why not just start a family with a young girl, like me?” You ask without completely realizing what you’re saying. 

“Wh-what?” his eyes widen, completely taken aback by your statement. Could you be insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating? He’s not sure whether you’re just naive or completely delusional. 

“W-Well um,” you blush as you begin to realize what you’ve said, “I think you’re a really great guy. Any woman would be lucky to-”

“Get out,” he cuts you off. 

“I’m sorry-”

“GET OUT!” He raises his voice, striking fear into you to the point where you feel your eyes begin to water. 

You feel utterly embarrassed and ashamed. Just when you were starting to get close to him too, you had to say something stupid to ruin it all. Honestly, you have no idea what you were thinking. You will admit you did have a crush on him, so maybe your heart just got excited and took a risky leap of faith. But unfortunately for you, it backfired. 

Without another word you rush out of his house as fast as you can, balling your eyes out. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚. 

It’s been a few days, and Gyutaro has been ignoring your texts. They stopped coming after that first day, and even though he didn’t respond he still read them. Reading your apologies over and over. He couldn’t get the situation out of his head no matter how hard he tried. So he decided maybe he needed an outside opinion. 

He finds himself sitting at a bar, drinking a beer. Rubbing his rough hand across the stubble that’s grown on his face as he’s been too stressed lately to bother shaving. Honestly, he looks pretty rough. He’s caught up in his self-sabotaging thoughts when he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

“Gyutaro! How’ve you been, man?”

He turns around with a smile on his face, “Hey Kai, what’s up?” He stands and gives his best friend a side hug. 

“Gyutarooooo, do I get a hug too?” an annoying voice chimes, a voice that instantly gives Gyutaro a headache. This voice could only belong to one person. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I invited him too,” Kaigaku laughs nervously.

“Douma…” Gyutaro deadpans.

“What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Douma smiles wide, giving Gyutaro a one-sided hug. “So, spill the details! Kai said you had some juicy gossip to talk about!” He says as he sits beside him at the bar, placing his hand under his chin and batting his long eyelashes. 

Kaigaku takes a seat on the other side of Gyutaro and mumbles, “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“It’s fine,” Gyutaro sighs and takes a drink from his bottle, “I really just wanted some advice. Just promise you won’t make it weird.”

“When do I ever make things weird?” Douma asks. 

Gyutaro just stares at him, thinking of all of the times he has indeed made things weird. 

“Come on man, just spit it out already!” Kaigaku nudges his shoulder. 

Gyutaro groans and slumps over in his seat, “Alright alright. So, there’s this girl-”

“A girl?!” Both of his friends say in unison. 

“Shut up!” Gyutaro growls, knowing exactly why his friends are so shocked. Because out of all of the years they’ve known him, he’s never once brought up a girl. 

“Anyway,” he continues, “There’s a girl I kind of like… she’s really sweet and we have a lot in common but…” he trails off, hesitant to tell them the truth, “She’s only twenty-one…”

Kaigaku chokes on his drink.

“I don’t see an issue,” Douma says, genuinely confused.

“Of course, you don’t,” Gyutaro mumbles under his breath. 

“How the hell did you get into this situation?” Kaigaku coughs.

“It wasn’t on purpose! I didn’t pursue her at all!” Gyutaro scowls, “Listen, she’s one of Ume’s friends. She comes over a lot and she’s been really nice to me. She even cooked a bunch of meals for me too…”

“And? Spill it, Shabana!” Douma pouts, getting impatient. 

“AND, we were talking about what we want for our future. I told her I wanted a family one day but I’m too old… and she said why don’t I have a family with a young girl like her. I immediately told her to leave. I’m starting to think maybe I overreacted…”

“Well, girls that age are very fertile!” Douma chimes as if his statement was completely innocent.

“STOP!” Gyutaro shouts, “That’s fucking weird, man! Don’t say it like that!” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him…” Kaigaku mumbles. 

“Hey, it’s true! I am a gynecologist after all, it’s just medical facts! And she’s right, having children with someone your age will be much more difficult and there could be complications!” Douma asserts confidently.

“The fact that you’re a gynecologist disturbs me,” Kaigaku says. 

“Me too,” Gyutaro adds. 

“Come on guys! It’s not as weird as you think. Why would it be so wrong to date her?”

“For starters, she’s fourteen fucking years younger than me! That’d be creepy right…? I don’t want people thinking I’m a weirdo or a creep,” he frowns, starting to feel like maybe he is a creep for even considering something with you. 

Kaigaku takes a sip of his drink, thinking long and hard about what advice he should give his friend. Especially since Douma is useless. 

“I mean, it’s not that bad,” he shrugs, “At the end of the day you’re both consenting adults. And since when did you care about what other people think of you anyway?”

“You have a point,” Gyutaro replies, “But she should live her life instead of wasting her time with an old guy like me.”

“First of all you aren’t even that old,” Kai rolls his eyes, “And second of all, she’s an adult who is fully capable of making her own decisions. If she wants to be with you, then she wants it for a reason. Maybe she wants a guy who is at a more stable point in his life. Who knows?”

“Exactly, Kai’s right. I see age gaps much larger than this all the time, it’s more common than you think,” Douma adds. 

“And besides, it would only be creepy if you were talking to her when she was a minor,” Kaigaku states, “Like if you’re an adult talking to a minor, then wait till they’re an adult to pursue them romantically it’s a little creepy if you ask me. But you didn’t even know her at all until now. So don’t worry man. You aren’t creepy or weird for liking this girl.”

Gyutaro feels a wave of relief wash over him as he listens to his friend’s explanation. It's the first thing he’s heard that actually made him feel a bit better about the situation. “So, you really think it’s ok for me to pursue her?”

“Hell yeah! Be happy, man. I know you’re not the kind of guy to go after a girl just because she’s young. She sounds like a really nice girl, and I’m happy someone finally sees what a great guy you are.”

“Thanks, Kai,” Gyutaro smiles, “Alright, I guess I’ll go for it.”

Gyutaro feels a newfound confidence overtake him. His friends are right, he shouldn’t be so caught up in the details when the fact of the matter is that a really amazing woman is interested in him for the first time in his life. And he cannot let this opportunity slide, as it may be the last chance he has at happiness. 

“Who knows, maybe she’s one of my patients!” Douma chimes in out of nowhere.

“Shut up, Douma! God, I can’t take you anywhere!” Kai growls. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

That night you receive a text from Gyutaro, “Do you want to go to the botanical gardens with me this weekend?”

When you first read the text you had to pinch yourself in case you were dreaming. Why would he say that all of a sudden? Did he suddenly have a change of heart? Or maybe he’s inviting you out just so he can tell you off in person. 

You aren’t sure which one, but you’ve been so stressed over this situation that you’ll do anything to make up with him. So you hastily respond, “Yes! I’d love to :)”

Immediately you regret how eager you sound in the text, thinking that it might make Gyutaro think you're even more childish. But in reality it makes him smile knowing that someone is excited to see him for once.

“Ok. I’ll send you the details,” he responds a minute later.

Is this a date? That’s the only question that keeps replaying in your mind. A date with Gyutaro, your best friend’s older brother. The whole thing feels taboo, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you feel even more excited.

Taglist: @gyusimp @mistyychann @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @hoshigafuru @matsukaah @merryclaus @whisperhug97 @dawn-rays-dingo

(I tagged people who showed interest in my previous posts. If you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist just let me know. The next chapter will have smut so if you want to be tagged make sure you have your age listed on your blog ♡)

[urdadsceilingfan]

YES I LOVE REVERSE PORTAL AUS!

And honestly I can only IMAGINE the sheer amount of guilt Ford will feel once that portal is turned on and Stan steps out of it alive and well and missing an ARM. The guilt he feels knowing that Stan was alive the whole time and he never turned on the portal, not even once to save him. The guilt would eat him up, seeing the twin brother that he knew, hollow, traumatized and changed forever. And what would be even worse is Stan forgiving him upon seeing him.

Most would say Stan would be angry. But honestly Stan is the type of guy that would blame himself, he’d take one look at Ford and hug him cuz he missed Ford, and that makes Ford feel that much worse, cuz Stan should be enraged, he should hate him, because Ford hates himself. He’s convinced himself all these years that his brother was dead, cuz it was easier to think that, when in reality he was just telling himself that so he wouldn’t have to face the guilt and shame of choosing the world over his brother, his family.

When he knew if the roles were reversed Stan would do everything to get him back, because he loved him that much, the world be damned, he would get him back. Because that was Stan and Ford realizes with horror that hadn’t been him, for 30 years that hadn’t been him, and he feels like the worst human in the world.

AGHHHH THE ANGST ITS IN MY BRAINNN

I’m so sorry I completely forgot this was in my drafts

Throughout Stanleys travel he’s constantly thinking “wow he [Stanford] would have loved this place” or “ I always ruin everything, maybe this time I won’t get in anyone’s way” Because through everything he held onto his family as we can see through the years he lived in his car and never fully blamed Ford for it

Stanley would definitely be upset at Ford when he realizes nobody has been in the basement since the incident and even more so that Ford never even tried to open the portal again,In my head Stan did punch Ford after Ford started rambling asking if he was dreaming

“Stanley? No it’s, No it can’t be you, I must be having some sort of fever dream-“

*gets punched*

“Did that feel real enough for you”

I believe it would take time to forgive his brother but he definitely doesn’t hate Ford either

The sheer GUILT ripping Ford apart he almost can’t stand looking at his brother after his return, wishing Stan would just yell or punch him again instead of looking at him with a half smile or complaining about how high the prices have gotten

All of the twins efforts to get him to have a decent sleep schedule during the summer is thrown out the window But why? Stanleys back and safe now! He’s alive he should be having the most peaceful sleep of his life!

In one moment Ford finds himself back the night his brother was kicked out, their no, his room was quiet and empty with no loud snores to remind him he’s not alone and that Stan is right there for him but now Stanley is back! Only he doesn’t snore anymore, pretty sure he doesn’t sleep much at all anymore, really sure he isn’t the same anymore

Both of them made mistakes and ones not more at fault then the other but they each carry self blame

[sourlove]

My In-Laws ~ Part II of 'My Mistake' YANDERE TODOROKI SHOTO

TW: OBSESSION, DELUSION, MENTIONED ARSON, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF MAFIA AND GANG ACTIVITIES

A/N: This is a quirkless AU so the Todoroki family isn't as fucked up. Touya never left but Enji is still lowkey an asshole. Also sorry this took a while, haven't been feeling very well.

READ PART 1 HERE

You should have gone to law school like your mom wanted you to. You had such a bright future. Now here you were, dressed to the nines, heading to an event you had no business being at, with a man who was convinced the both of you were madly in love.

Some people would consider it a win, especially with how powerful and wealthy the Todoroki name was. However, the circumstances that had led to your situation were less than ideal.

"I'm so glad you decided to match with me, my love," Shoto said, sending a small smile your way.

"You burned all my other clothes," you responded dryly, swatting his hand from your thigh.

The asshole pretended like he didn't even hear you. "It's good for us to present a united front against my family. This might come as a surprise but we aren't exactly a regular family."

You glanced out of the blacked out windows of the chauffer driven car you were in to the convoy that followed in front and behind, filled with armed guards. "You don't say."

Shoto sighed morosely. "It's shocking, I know. I must warn you that some of my family aren't very, how would you say, mentally stable."

"...is that so?" you asked the man who decided he was in love with you as he was tied up in your basement. Honestly, the whole thing was starting to sound like some big, elaborate prank he was pulling. But no, Shoto began his spiel, completely oblivious to your sarcasm.

"Take my eldest brother for example," he began. "We aren't supposed to talk about him, actually. It's...really been very difficult for my family..."

"Oh...did something happen to him?" You asked, feeling kind of bad.

"Hmm? No, we just can't reveal too much information so it won't be used against him in court." Shoto gave you a blank look. "He burnt down a school district. It's been really hard for my family to keep him out of prison so he's on house arrest now."

...of course he was.

The rest of the drive was filled with stories of Shoto's siblings and mother. You weren't sure if you wanted to meet actually them or if you wanted to throw yourself out of the car, but before you could make a decision, the car arrived in front of a large compound. You gaped in awe as the gates swung open to reveal a mansion and grounds even grander than Shoto's.

There was a butler who welcomed you to the mansion, while his eyes tried to communicate with you to run. Now that was a tempting idea. But there was no backing out now. Plus, Shoto had gotten used to your escape attempts and his hand was like a shackle on your wrist. You gazed around the interior of the mansion, your hands itching to pinch some of the smaller but still expensive looking art pieces.

"You're here!" A cheery voice made you turn towards the large grandiose staircase where a beautiful woman stood. She had long white hair, tipped with red, similar to Shoto's half. Must be Fuyumi then, the only 'normal' one in the family according to Shoto.

You smile thinly as she wraps you in a hug. "It's so to finally meet you!" she exclaimed. "Everyone is in the dining room already!"

Shoto snatched you back into his arms before Fuyumi could drag you away but she just chuckled and rolled her eyes at you. "Shoto was always so possessive with his things."

Things? Your smile grew a bit more strained but neither of them seemed to notice or care. The dining room was just as opulent as the rest of the house but you barely got to appreciate it, instead, all you took notice of was the mix of bright blue and grey eyes staring at you.

"This is Y/N. Don't be weird," Shoto introduced, oh so eloquently. The heads of the table were occupied by a giant red haired man and a tiny woman with silver hair flowing down her back. Two young men sat opposite each other and Fuyumi slipped into a chair, patting the seat next to her for you. Shoto ignored her and pulled you to sit next to him.

You nodded at them awkwardly. "Hello. Nice to meet you."

"You're kind of hot." A redhead with an ankle monitor and a disturbingly predatory grin piped up. "Like in a trapped mouse kind of way. I like it."

"Hush, Touya," the older woman said sternly. "He didn't mean that, dear."

"Nah, he has a point." The other young man, Natsuo probably, smiled at you, looking at you slowly from top to bottom. "There's something appealing there."

"I said don't be weird. Keep it in your fucking pants." Shoto glared at the both of them and if it were anyone else, you might have felt worried for them, however, the atmosphere in the room never changed.

"That's enough, all of you." The large man said gruffly. He must be Enji, the generally disliked patriarch. "Y/N, was it? Welcome."

"I'm sure Shoto has told you all about us. But we barely know anything about you, my dear," Rei said kindly. "How did you and our Shoto meet?"

"Oh, um-" You glanced around the room, wide eyed, only to be met with curious gazes from the family. Panicked, you shrank back into your seat. "We- uh, we met by chance, you know, it was like sooo romantic, haha. It was a park-yeah...".

Touya rolled his eyes and Natsuo scoffed into his wine glass. Enji silently raised an eyebrow. "Well, that sounds...nice," Fuyumi laughed awkwardly. "Very romantic..."

Shoto cleared his throat. "Y/N tried to kidnap me the first time that we met."

It was as if the tension just bled out of the room. Rei gasped in delight and smiled at Enji. "Oh, it reminds me of how me met! You remember when I tried to kill you?" He gave his wife a small, fond smile and nodded.

"Oh now, I'm definitely interested," Touya purred. "Looks like we have a little psychopath on out hands."

"You'll fit right in then, pretty," Natsuo added with a laugh. "We're all some kind of fucked up."

"I knew it!" Fuyumi exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "The moment I saw you, I knew you were special!"

Shoto leaned in, whispering, "I think they like you. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing."

Oh you knew what it was. As excited chatter from the Todoroki family began to fill the room, you knew that you had just gotten yourself entangled with one of the most dangerous groups of people in the world.

And that was a very bad thing indeed.

A/N: If you enjoyed this, please leave a like, comment and reblog! I need to sleep and get my shit together lol so this might not be my best work. Thanks for your support either way!

@sky2lar @justabratsworld

[kudossi]

Tigerclaw and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Senior Warrior Position AU

In a world where deputies can only be named after their first apprentice has been granted their warrior name, Tigerclaw struggles to keep an apprentice alive long enough to earn their name.

or, a comedy-tragedy AU in which having an apprentice isn't enough — you have to see them to their warrior name, and Tigerclaw cannot fucking get any of his goddamn apprentices to live, damn it.

—

It starts out mostly normally, except for the fact that Tigerclaw hasn't gotten any apprentices to their warrior name, and he needs that so he can accomplish his (very noble, of course) kitty genocide goals. And also be the supreme leader of the world or something. Darkpaw died stupidly, he hasn't had a chance since, and now he's got some tiny thing that's afraid of his own shadow.

Well. It'll have to do.

So naturally this man is so protective over Ravenpaw that Ravenpaw barely even leaves his sight. Firepaw and Graypaw think that this is adorable. Look how much Tigerclaw cares about his apprentice!!

Ravenpaw, of course, is fucking terrified and also slowly losing his mind, just in a different way.

—

"Redtail assigned us to go on a patrol to Snakerocks." "OH NO HE DID NOT. WE'RE STAYING IN THE SANDY HOLLOW WHERE IT'S SAFE."

"Nothing matters more to me than making you a warrior, Ravenpaw. Nothing." And the terrible thing is that Ravenpaw is sure he's being sincere.

—

Ravenpaw disappears and Tigerclaw nearly fucking has a conniption because the timing was all RIGHT and he was going to finally get the position AND HE NEVER GOT HIS DAMN NAME FUCK.

"Do you think I could convince the elders that Fireheart was my apprentice?" "Fireheart was Bluestar's apprentice, as approved by StarClan. You're going to have to wait for the next litter to be apprenticed."

So he begs and begs and gets Cinderpaw and then she accidentally falls into the trap he'd set for a better deputy candidate at the Thunderpath. Fuck.

—

Well. Time to resort to drastic measures.

"I was thinking that Darkstripe would have been a good name. Because he had dark stripes." "Again, Tigerclaw, it's admirable that you loved your apprentice so much, but I cannot grant him a name." "Are you sure?" "Honestly, Tigerclaw, I'm not sure he ever would have gotten a name. Missing quite a few feathers from his nest, that one..." Fuck. The worst part was that she wasn't even wrong.

— Swiftpaw and Brightpaw get mauled by the dogs he set up to happen like right after he got the title and they sprang it before and he's like FUCK NOW WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE DAMN DOGS? His world domination plans literally never come to fruition because he cannot keep his apprentices alive/in the clan/his own.

— "Brightheart counts. She HAS to count." "Actually, Cloudtail took over her training…" [demented noises]

—

Turns out that Ravenpaw is alive and no one — no one — in the Harper Collins Extended Universe is happier than Tigerclaw.

"You're alive! …You deserve your warrior name!" "Actually, I've come to peace with my name and my way of life. I have no need for a—" "GET YOUR FUCKING NAME RIGHT NOW RAVENPAW OR SO HELP ME STARCLAN—" "I know you really wanted Ravenpaw to become a warrior," Barley says gently, "but he's made his decision. It's very kind of you to acknowledge that he deserves it, though. You must have been so close as mentor and apprentice." Tigerclaw's eye twitches. "Yes. Close. Very... close." —

He finally, finally retires as an elder after his plans go absolutely nowhere for years on end. And maybe StarClan is still like "Brambleclaw would be chill actually, we can forget that pesky little law" and Tigerclaw is sitting there like "excuse me what the actual fuck?" —

But at this point Tigerclaw is about as dangerous as Ashfur without a freak forest fire. Which is to say about as dangerous as using a leaf as a weapon. Which is, incidentally, how Darkpaw managed to get himself killed in the first place.

—

"Is this the Dark Forest? This has to be the Dark Forest. It doesn't look like Thistleclaw described it, but it must be. This Clan is all an elaborate punishment meted down by StarClan for my sins." "Tigerclaw, sir, I'm just here to help you with your ticks. See? I have the mousebile right here." "…Yes, thank you, Alderpaw." — Graystripe joins him in the elder's den and he's like, "You know, Ravenpaw thought you were up to some… scheme, back in the day. Crazy, right? You've been a model Clanmate as long as I've been alive." [muffled screaming] "Huh, what do you think that is? It sounds almost like someone killed a rabbit, but they know not to come this close to camp…"

[yndrgrl]

yandere! bakugou uses you to get to someone else, but ends up falling for you instead

long ass fic. fem! reader. regular! au. enemies to lovers. lowkey crack! fic. tsundere! bakugou.

warnings: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, somnaphilia (idk how to spell it), degrading, bullying, spitting, public sex, hatefuck

a/n: requests are open :) (plz request something, idk what else to write about 😭)

---

"no." that's all you said. so flat, so robotic. that's all you wanted to say.

bakugou was a pushy man, however. "it wasn't a question."

"oh for real?" you gasped, putting both hands to your cheeks to show your faux shock. "no."

"listen, you're gonna help me win over uraraka-"

"no, i'm not, bakugou," you denied once more. you don't even know why he came to you in the first place. it was clear as day that uraraka had a major crush on izuku, & izuku liked uraraka just as much.

honestly, what surprised you the most is that bakugou even had a crush. i guess it makes sense that it would be on uraraka though.

"yes, you are because i have something over you," bakugou threatened lowly.

you scoffed, "oh, do you now?" there wasn't really much he could have over you that would make you help him-

he slammed a journal on the desk, a slam echoing throughout the library. it was your personal diary.

you lunged for your journal, but he snatched it & threw it into his bag. you screamed at him, "how'd you get that, you sicko?!" the only way he would've gotten that was by breaking into your dorm room.

"are you going to help me or not?"

yes, you could've bought a nicer, leather journal with handcrafted pieces of paper, glued recent pictures of your life & decorated the pages with washi tape, stickers, & colored markers, but you didn't want to start over yet. your journal is a year & a half old, every page nearly filled; it's a deep dive into your mind. every overwhelming event in your life, every good memory, every goal you strive to achieve is written down in that book. bakugou katsuki had that all in his possession.

that's why, two days after you found out what he has, you're sitting with your usual study group in your designated, outdoor study area-- plus bakugou. your bluetooth speaker played a playlist shared throughout the group. you sat on the edge with uraraka beside you & bakugou across from you.

"y/n," someone said, catching your attention; it was uraraka. "i didn't know you & bakugou were friends."

you wanted to laugh. you quickly told her, "we're not-"

"we're good friends," katsuki overlapped with his lie. his scowl upturned into the smallest smile when uraraka glanced up at him.

"oh wow, i had no idea! the two of you are so hard-headed, i wouldn't have expected the two of you to get along so great," she said back with a giggle. you loved uraraka, but she's too friendly sometimes.

bakugou, trying to play into the cool-bad-boy character, said, "yeah, well she makes it hard sometimes, but it helps when she has cute friends, i guess."

never in your life did you think you would hear big, tough bakugou flirt in your life.

they continued their conversation that you tuned out, rereading your notes & constructing plans on how to get your journal so you could expose him. everyone was invested in their own stuff. obviously, bakugou & uraraka were talking amongst themselves. momo was explaining to jirou & mina some math topic that they were sobbing about. tsu was on her laptop as she tried finishing a power point that was due the next day.

your chin was propped up by your hand, humming the song that started playing. "um, excuse me," a masculine voice called out. it caught the attention everyone at the table. you heard bakugou scoff, & you could only assume he rolled his eyes.

you looked up at the source of the voice. he was right in front of you, face red, cheeky smile. he was cute in the way that a puppy eager for a treat was. "you're y/n, right?"

"yeah, i am," you confirmed, matching his grin.

he introduced himself by saying his name & told you that he was in the hero-support program. he then said, "i just wanted to say that you're just really pretty."

compliments were one thing. compliments from complete strangers always messed you up though. "oh, th-thanks." you're so awkward.

"so like, maybe i could get your number, & we could go on a date or two?"

you glanced back at all your friends, who all had big smiles as a way of non-verbally saying, "get your manz, bitch!!"

bakugou on the other hand, had an expression of confusion & anger-- the anger was permanent though.

"i mean, i don't give out my phone number, but maybe we can snap or something?"

the guy nodded with enthusiasm, pulling out his phone to give you his username. "cool, well sorry for wasting your guys' time," the boy said to you friends before turning to you & saying, "i'll hit you up later?"

"can't wait," you replied back.

as soon as he was out of earshot, mina squealed, "oh my god! you're such a flirt!"

jirou teased, "you're so awkward, it's literally so funny."

"you're my pretty best friend," tsu croaked with a laugh.

"guys, nothing is gonna happen," you said with a blush. "i'm just gonna be his friend."

"how does it feel to be hit on for the first time, loser?" bakugou yawned, as if he's been hit on ten million times by fan girls & milfs or something.

mina retaliated, "what are you talking about? y/n gets hit on all the time!"

uraraka jumped in, "yeah, what's was that? guy number five?"

"y/n?" bakugou questioned, & all your friends nodded. "that thing? doubt it."

"what's there to doubt? you just saw it," you growled at him, he annoyed you so badly.

after that study session, he got uraraka's number like he hoped for, but he was more curious about you. he never realized until that day how often you do actually get men's attention. bakugou always assumed you were some bookworm, writer nerd who leeched off of his darling, uraraka for popularity & personality.

"i don't get it," bakugou muttered, staring at your figure across the cafeteria. he was surrounded by his friends, who all followed his gaze.

kirishima groaned, "dude, just ask uraraka out already." it was routine that bakugou would say something about how shitty nerd, deku, isn't good enough for her affections or how he would be a better match for her.

"no, it's not that," bakugou corrected, glare not breaking off of you. this caught kirishima, denki, sero, & mina -who sometimes sat with you as well- off guard.

"what are you talking about, bro," denki asked.

"i don't get it. she's not even that cute," bakugou scoffed, slouching back into the bench. his eyes finally tore away from you & awase from class 1-b.

"who?"

"y/n, i think," mina assumed, & when bakugou didn't deny it, they all knew she was right. "why does it even bother you?"

"it doesn't," he said, glancing back at you. awase left you, & in his place was the floating, fighting machine uraraka. he didn't feel the need to say anything about her though, but he felt like he had to. "she's weird, uraraka shouldn't even be friends with her."

"there it is," sero sighed, making all the others laugh.

"shut up," bakugou scowled at them. everyone was used to it, so they weren't that threatened.

"but seriously, bakubro, don't hate on y/n just cuz she's best friends with uraraka, & you're jealous," kirishima told him. he always did this to the blonde. he wasn't scared to tell him off.

bakugou, infuriated, yelled, "i'm not jealous of her, okay? it's just stupid how she has everyone wrapped around her finger, so don't be some dumb, y/n defenders. hop off her fuckin' dick."

"i'm just saying, man. she's super cool, has a useful quirk, & is an awesome fighter," kirishima said, holding his hands as a way to show he was backing down.

"if i were you, bakugou, i would be trying to be her friend," mina said.

mina's words played on repeat in bakugou's head for a week. it was driving him crazy. even though that bridge of being friends was already burned & he kept telling himself he doesn't care, he can't help but want to be closer to you.

he said it was all for uraraka in the end. after all, when they were texting the other day, she said that she would want a future partner to get along with her friends or else it'll be a deal breaker.

bakugou deduced that if he was on favorable terms with you that uraraka would fall for him-- & maybe you too. he felt himself physically jolt when he thought that. why in fucks name would he want you to fall for him? he thought for a second. it's not like he wants to be with you or anything, but he doesn't want you with anyone else.

he somehow found himself in front of your dorm door past curfew. bakugou, at this time, was usually asleep, dreaming about a life where him & uraraka lived happily ever after. however, tonight was different. he didn't feel like thinking about the short-haired brunette.

he doesn't even know why he's outside your door.

in his head, he rationalized that he just loves uraraka so much that he'd give up sleep to become your friend. it was such an urgent situation that he didn't even bother putting on shirt.

he fished in his sweatpants' pocket for a lock pick, the same one he used to break into your dorm the first time to steal your journal. bakugou jammed it into the lock, opening the door with ease. he shut the door carefully before stalking further into your room.

there you were on your bed. swaddled in your fluffy duvet, cuddling a stuffed animal. you must've felt his presence because your sleeping self started shifting & ended up kicking off your blanket. you ended up on your stomach, one leg crunched towards your side while the bottom leg laid straight. you faced away from bakugou.

his breath hitched, something inside him twitched. bakugou couldn't help but stare. he had to admit that you had the body of his dream girl. wait no, his dream girl was uraraka-

he cut his own thoughts off when he saw how your ass looked in that position. the blue hue from the moonlight flowed into the room because, for some reason, you felt no need to close your curtains. he could make the shape of you so clearly. he reached for you.

he told himself that he wouldn't be cheating on his soon-to-be lover. it's just a touch, a friendly touch that friends share with each other.

his fingertips ghosted over your exposed thighs. you were wearing nothing but thong & an oversized band tee. the gentle touches turned into full-palm caresses. her skin is so smooth, bakugou thought. he loomed closer to you, inhaling deeply. she smells so nice.

he climbed over you with the agility of a shadow. the bed didn't even creak. he kneeled over legs, & his hands found your plush ass. he kneaded your bare butt, shifting you so you were fully on your stomach. you remained unmoving; you usually take melatonin gummies right before bed anyways.

bakugou kept groping your ass while his cock hardened into its full length. his hands wandered, thumbs grazing over your entrance. he grasped you, & he spread your ass cheeks apart. you must be dreaming about something dirty because your thong was soaked.

bakugou readjusted himself so he was on level with your ass. "this is just what friends do," he hazily whispered to himself. "friends help friends get better."

he blew on the wet patch, watching your pussy twitch through your panties. bakugou waited for a second, trying to grasp at any sort of self-control but, when you subconsciously propped your ass higher for him, he couldn't help it. he mentally apologized to uraraka before he dove into your ass.

his tongue licked your clothed slit, & he felt how thin your thong truly was. he only got an inkling of what you tasted like, & he craved more. bakugou lapped you juices through your panties, dampening the light grey cloth into a darker shade. his jaw hinged open to allow his tongue to delve further down.

he found your clit through your thong. he pressed his tongue against you, & sleeping, unsuspecting you let out a moan. "oh fuck," bakugou whispered in response, diving back into your pussy.

he pulled your thong up. it rode higher in your ass, then the part the was covering your pussy disappeared between your lips.

he started eating you out again, groaning in pleasure when he finally got to touch your bare skin. he slurped your juices over & over.

bakugou didn't realize that he pulled his sweatpants & boxers down to his knees. he pulled away from your pussy, a string of your juices & his saliva connecting him to you.

on his knees, he positioned his big cock between your ass. a moment of clarity hit him, it wasn't right, he knew that deep down. you really didn't do anything to him.

your phone next to your pillow buzzed. he grabbed it, his hung cock still pressed against you. it was a message from uraraka that read, "wait what did you wanna tell me about bakugou earlier? you looked so concerned haha."

you were trying to tell him? what a fucking bitch, bakugou thought with pure hatred. you were trying to sabotage him with your words, your pretty little mouth, with your dumb, stupid body.

his rationality was once again thrown out of the door. uraraka would want me to show y/n her place, he thought. he climbed off of you. he had to show you what your mouth was meant for. your mouth wasn't meant for snitching, it was meant for sucking cock-- his cock.

bakugou turned your head & pulled it at the edge of the bed. thankfully, it's like your body already knew what was gonna happen, your mouth was already agape. he pushed his tip past your lips. your tongue lazily stroked against his length. he moved his dick in & out of your throat, & yet somehow you still remained motionless.

his control turned into animalistic thrusts, gagging you over & over, & you still stayed asleep. "fuckin' stupid bitch," he groaned, throwing his head back. your throat expanded with each thrust to accommodate his thickness & length.

spit & his precum spilled out of your mouth & onto your silk pillowcase. because you were sideways, his heavy balls slapped against your face, nose shoved into his pubes. you gargled & gagged in your sleep, but you still handled him so well.

his passionate angry finally swelled up & shot down your throat. even though he was cumming, he kept half-assed thrusting in your throat, coating every inch with white. all for uraraka, remember? because bakugou completely forgot what drove him to do what he just did.

the next day, as you entered the classroom, he heard you tell to uraraka about how the melatonin gummies really worked. "yeah, i was completely knocked out! i drooled so much, my pillow was drenched. it was disgusting."

"really? i know that they're good, but i never drooled that much. maybe you really needed that sleep."

as they passed bakugou's seat, uraraka waved at him with pink cheeks. "hey, bakugou."

"uraraka," he said back to her. he watched your smile drop into a frown, your eyes rolling. he was winning over uraraka, he knew that, but he didn't feel satisfied. he yearned the banter between the two of you more than uraraka's affections. "what was that, idiot?"

uraraka was shocked at first, thinking he was talking to her until she heard you shoot back, "shouldn't you be watching ochaco instead of me?" if he didn't know any better, it sounded like you were jealous.

"y/n, let's calm down," uraraka sheepishly suggested, but it only angered you more. why was she on that weirdo's side? why wasn't she on your side? even after you told her what he did to you, she didn't even care; in fact, she seemed flattered.

"yeah, calm down," bakugou chimed in with that disgusting, cocky smile, "go in the back & drool all over your desk."

"eavesdropping now? you really are obsessed," you huffed, marching towards your desk that was, in fact, in the back of the classroom. you thought uraraka was right behind you, but by the time you turned around to sit in your chair, you noticed her take a seat next to bakugou.

the bell rang, & in rolled your sleepy teacher, mr. aizawa. he called roll, held an hour long lecture while you took notes, then assigned a 4-page essay with three sites sources. after he was done, he questioned, "now that we're done with that, what is happening today?"

iida's hand shot up along with his entire body.

"go ahead, iida."

"the 1a students from ketsubutsu academy are training with us today." oh right, you completely forgot about that. you were not in the mood to socialize with those uptight, cocky rich kids today. even though you took the melatonin gummies the night before to ensure a goods night sleep, you got everything but that. you felt like you were melting all night, & now you just felt restless.

"good, iida is correct," mr. aizawa confirmed. "they're already waiting in training facility a, so get dressed & be there in 10 minutes."

"yes sir!" & they all scurried out of the classroom.

your entire class entered the facility in their hero costumes. like mr. aizawa said, the visiting students were already there, stretching & warming up. mr. aizawa, once he noticed his entire class, announced that on the white board was everyone's names & assigned training group for the day.

everyone, including the other class, crowded around the board to find their names. "y/n!" your best friend, who you were extremely pissed off at, cheered. "we're all in the same group!" we... all?

you look at uraraka to see who she was referring to. "it's just my luck," you groaned, of course it was bakugou. "i just had to be put in a group with you!" you wanted to shout at everyone. you wanted to shout at uraraka for being swooned by a creep, you wanted to yell at mr. aizawa for putting you in a group with bakugou, & you wanted to scream, jump, yell, & hit bakugou over the head with a bat just for being the aggravating, prideful bastard he is.

"we just had to have a weak fuckin' nerd in your group?" he said to uraraka, but glanced to his side to meet your eye. your fuming expression really got him going. "there's no one more annoying than you-"

"are you y/n?" someone questioned. that just be the last person in your group.

you looked up at him, & with a half-hearted smile, you said, "i am."

"nice, i'm in your group," he told you, "i'm yo shindo. & i must admit, i was not excited for this whole group training thing until i saw a pretty girl like you was in my group."

oh, so he was a flirt? honestly, you didn't mind at all; you needed something to distract you & what's a better distraction than a buff playboy?

"honestly me too, but i think it'll be fun with you," you said back, but you overthought what you said. was it cringy?

bakugou was watching the whole exchange, brows furrowed, vein popping through his skin on his forehead. uraraka noticed, & because with the new-found knowledge that bakugou really liked her, she stroked his arm & asked, "are you okay?"

he looked at her with the same look of anger, now mixed with discomfort, & shrugged her off. "yeah, i'm fine."

he turned his attention back to you & shindo. bakugou's hands sparked ever so suddenly when he took in the scene in front of him. you were eating up all of shindo's praises & brags. your hands tried to squeeze around his biceps but you just couldn't connect your hands. "wow, your muscles are so big~ you must be strong."

"of course i am, i gotta be so i can impress pretty girls like you after all," he winked at you. for a moment, you glanced at bakugou, feeling his harsh glare, & he looked like he was about to explode. you didn't know why though, doesn't he have what he wanted already? he has uraraka right there, & yet he's still mad at you. he still owes you your journal too, so the two of you were not on good terms.

"sorry, i didn't mean to get carried away," you told shindo, pulling your hands away.

as the two of you walked towards uraraka & bakugou, shindo said, "i don't mind, you can touch me wherever, whenever."

you couldn't help but laugh out loud. "god, you're such a flirt!"

"you seem to love it though-"

"y/n, would you stop being a hoe for one second & train like you're supposed to?" bakugou said to you, hands stuffed inside his pockets, looking so nonchalant. you blinked a moment, & you waited for uraraka to say something or to rush by your side. she didn't do any of that

all she said was, with a giggle & eyes staring at bakugou, "that was mean." yeah, it was. it really was. the tips of your ears burned in humiliation, your palms became sweaty, & your breathing was uneven. after uraraka was done ogling bakugou, she looked at you, & her eyes widened. never in her entire childhood friendship did she see that expression on your face.

"dude, i don't know who think you are, but don't talk to her like that," shindo said, stepping forward & slightly in front of you. your tense shoulders relaxed just a bit-- someone is in your corner.

the amused bakugou turned pissed off when your new, little boy-toy went to your rescue, even though he knew you didn't need rescuing. "h-hey, let's save it for training, yeah-"

"i'll talk to y/n however i want, damn weak fuck," bakugou replied, copying his movements & stepping forward. "you're just like her: fucks anything that moves, huh?"

"bakugou-"

"that's it!" you shouted as you shoved bakugou away from shindo. the three of them -bakugou, uraraka, & shindo- were shocked to say the least. he pushed you too far all for entertainment & some obsession. "you're such a goddamn coward, you know that? all you are is a bully who's play-pretending to be a hero! you're such a control freak that, even after you stole my best friend, you still need to have something over me, so you won't give me back my stupid journal. & worst of all, you just stare & glare & act like i'm scum when you're the actual piece of shit! & you're not even ashamed! you want everyone to know! i hate you so much!"

after your tangent/rant, you walked away, quirk firing left & right. you didn't need to hear whatever bakugou was going to say next, it was probably be something so degrading that winds up in her next journal entry.

the three of the gawked at you, watching you walk straight to the state-of-the-art punching bags. uraraka was the first to speak. "i'll talk to her. i've never seen her that... mad. it was like she was a whole new person-"

"you guys are terrible classmates. there was no reason to say any of that. i'll go talk with her," shindo cut uraraka off. before either of them could do anything, bakugou was already strutting towards you, gauntlets sparking.

"who does she think she is?" they heard him utter. they were out of earshot, however, when he said, "making me fuckin' hard then walking away. damn tease."

he caught up to you in no time. you were almost to the punching bags when he grabbed your wrist, his hand was warm & a stinging sensation engulfed your wrist.

uraraka & shindo watched as the two of you screamed at each other, you shoving him, him glaring at you, you throwing a piece of your costume at him. honestly, it would've been comedic if it wasn't for bakugou pressing your buttons.

"what are they? toxic exes or something?" shindo questioned as they began to walk towards the fighting two.

"oh, no, not at all! i would've known," uraraka told him, "they're just... um... friends i think. maybe enemies."

"i can tell that much."

when the actual training began, you & bakugou tried to separate from each other. you were paired with shindo & him with uraraka. but, because of the conditioning & the way today's training was set up, it was inevitable that you two would interact again.

like at lunch, the two of you sat across each other at a table, eating your lunches. you didn't bother speaking, you didn't even want to see bakugou ever again, after all.

or at the water fountain, when he said, "hurry up." & so you took longer, even though you weren't thirsty anymore.

or when you had to rotate partners & bakugou was your only option. the two of you, against the rules, threw quirk-backed attacks each other.

& that's how you two ended up being excused early. while everyone else was getting better, you were locked out & forced to change back into your school uniform, & the only person with you was bakugou.

when you left the changing room, he was leaning against the wall-- almost like he was waiting for you. "you done being mad at me?"

"no, i'm not, & i'll never stop being mad at you," you said, walking right past him. he followed close behind you.

"listen, i didn't mean to embarrass you. i didn't know you'd get so pissy."

"what did you think was gonna happen?!"

"i don't know, okay?" the two of you were yelling at this point.

"you have ochaco, can you please just give me my journal & leave me alone? you two can be happy far, far away from me," you said, cursing yourself for choking up. you mentally prepared for the teasing & "witty" comebacks bakugou had in store.

instead, he asks, "are you jealous?"

"what?"

"are you jealous?"

you scoffed, opening the door to the dorm building. "don't flatter yourself, big guy."

"i'm being serious," he said to you as he leaned on the counter. you were so hungry that you didn't really care bakugou was watching you cook. "because i was."

"what are you getting at, bakugou?" you asked, putting a pot of water on the stove, bringing it to a boil.

"i was so jealous today," he said.

"of what?"

"of damn shindo kid," he responded back. your angered expression contorted into a puzzled one as you looked up at him. when you didn't reply, he continued, "if i knew stupid one liners got your attention, i would've been doing that sooner."

you couldn't believe what you were hearing. the guy who's been making the past few months hell was confessing something you never expected. "what about ochaco, hm? i thought you needed her to breath or something."

"yeah, i guess i liked her at first, & that's why i needed your help," he admitted. he then fished a journal, your journal, out of his bag & stood up. he walked towards you, hand outstretched with your beloved diary in his grasp. you reached out for it when he lifted it above your head with a taunting smirk. "but then i realized that i wanted you this entire time."

--nsfw starts here--

"you're just saying stupid things to get a rise out of me, bakugou," you rolled your eyes at him. you placed a hand on his chest as you jumped for your journal, fingers touching it ever so lightly. it was just out of reach.

you thought you had it, he brought the notebook down. however, you didn't have it. he threw it on the counter behind you, & the hand the was holding it snakes around your waist. his other hand grabbed your face, stroking your cheek as he kissed you.

you don't know why, but you found your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. without breaking your lips apart, he pushed you against the counter, pinning you between his two arms now. his tongue, the tongue that craved you since that unknown night, licked your lips before fighting yours for dominance. his thigh was between your legs. he pressed your core against him, & you moaned.

bakugou shut off the burner during your kiss. he was expecting the two of you to escape into his room, but when you threw off his tie & unbuttoned his shirt eagerly, he knew he needed you right then & there.

the two of you broke your kiss, & he placed his head in the crook of your neck. "you get off on making me jealous, don't you? that's why you were flirting with stupid shindo?"

"wh-whatever, you jerk. you act like you weren't basically grinding on ochaco in front of me all the time?"

bakugou laughed into the nape of your neck. "grinding? all we did was talk."

"same fuckin' thing," you growled in frustration.

"i didn't know you were so jealous of her."

"oh, fuck off, asshole," you said. you were quickly shut up by him biting your sensitive spots all over your neck, sucking & licking to create hickeys.

he took off your tie & ripped open your shirt. he unhooked your bra, throwing it god knows where. "take this fuckin' thing off," he uttered, helping you out of your torn clothes.

"h-hey!"

"shut up, & take it. i'll buy you a new one," he said before fondling your breasts. you bit your lip as your grinded against his meaty thigh. your wetness, even though you had panties on, began staining his slacks.

"bakugou~" you whispered, voice shaking.

"it's katsuki tonight, dummy," he told you, turning you around & bending you over the counter. you brushed your journal out of the way as you pressed you tits onto the cold, granite countertop.

with three fingers, he pinched your pussy through your panties so his middle one snuck in between your lips. "stop being a tease & fuck me already." if only you knew.

"be patient, woman," scowled katsuki, smacking your ass. he set of small sparks when he hit your cheek. "you can't take this cock yet. i'm doing you a goddamn favor."

you doubted him, you really did. he was so cocky & arrogant, how could you not? "i can take your tiny dick any day, don't underestimate me."

katsuki let out a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "you really think so, dumb bitch?" he unclicked his belt, dropping his pants & boxers around his ankles. he started to grind against your ass, & you swore up & down it felt like deja vu.

you gasped as you felt his length between your ass. you've had dreams about cocks that big, sure, but you didn't know they actually existed. "wh-what the fuck?"

"what? still think you take me? still think i'm tiny, sweetheart?" katsuki taunted as he took off your panties. he pressed your thighs around his cock, the base of it stimulating your swollen clit. he thrusted gently; it was so against his brash, aggressive character.

you were not one to back down, so at least you stayed true to your character. "yeah, i can take your skinny ass dick-" you were cut off by katsuki spreading your ass & shoving his girthy length into your throbbing heat. you screamed, tongue hanging out of your mouth as you tried to adjust to him.

he wouldn't let you though. katsuki, once inside your tight pussy, started pounding you. he shoved his cock head into your g-spot over & over, making you quiver & pulsate around him. "sl-sl-slow d-down!" you begged between thrusts. in response, he pulled your head back with your hair. you arched uncomfortably; your pelvis was still against the edge of the counter, but your head was pulled so far back that you could see katsuki's face.

"you think you're all that? you think you can just flirt with all these other guys in front of me? you fuckin' slut," he spat into your mouth, not that it mattered since it mixed with your drool & fell out of your mouth & onto your cold body. "i own you now. i own this mouth, i own this pussy, i own this ass, i own you."

"f-f-"

"c'mon, pathetic whore. say it."

"fuck y-you, katsuki." oh, you were a brat through & through clearly.

katsuki has had enough of your retaliation. you were supposed to be a brainless bimbo begging for more, yet here you were, surprising him again. any bit of consciousness you had, he was going to fuck out if you.

he, without pulling out, let go of your hair & made you stand up. he grabbed both your legs & hoisted you into this air. his hands found their way behind your head, & you couldn't move. you were nothing more than a cum dumpster to him now. "you know, if anyone walks through that door, they're gonna see you folded in half, tears streaming down your face with my cock balls deep in your dripping pussy, & they'd realize how much of a slut you are, & they'd know that you're all mine."

you didn't mean to, but your pussy clenched around his cock tighter as more of your juices squirted onto the linoleum floor. "oh, you like that, princess?"

you moaned in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he praised you. "aw, how pathetic. you must love when i call you cute nicknames & tell you how good you're doing." with whatever head movement you had, you nodded.

"that's a shame because you've been nothing but dirty, i can't treat you like a good girl until you deserve it."

"p-please! i'll do anything!" you cried out, then you started twitch uncontrollably around him. a white, hot wave of pleasure washed over you as you creamed all over his cock. he wasn't done yet, he still abused your cervix, making you beg for him to stop, or at least slow down.

his thrusts turned rapid as he started to groan about how you were all his, how he wasn't going to let any other man look at you, how he would be the only one you ever think about. you knew that was all true. "y/n, you fuckin' bitch, i hate you & your pretty, little face. take it all," he yelled as he unloaded his load into your tight pussy.

you screamed in overwhelming pleasure, squirting all over him once again. the two of you caught your breaths. he set you down once his cock finally stopped twitched, & he spun you around to embrace you. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i promise i'll be the best boyfriend in the world, just give me a chance. i know we're enemies or whatever, but i don't wanna be that anymore, & i don't want to be whatever this is; just fucking like we hate each other then go our separate ways." you've never seen this side of katsuki before.

"i-i'd like that, i'd like to be your girlfriend."

you hated him. you hated how he made you feel. you hated how he infected your mind, how he ruined you for any other man. you hated how you knew you needed him.

[milaeth]

୨୧┊ 𝐈𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. ( charles leclerc )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part two ∿ part one ∿ part three

✧.* pairings ─ charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff & chaotic

✧.* summary ─ in which your best friend George gets fed up with watching you and Charles secretly yearn for each other while claiming to be just friends. so, when you lose a bet to George, he takes control of your social media accounts for 24 hours, using the opportunity to help you make a move on your crush.

✧.* face claim ─ suki waterhouse

✧.* warnings ─ some suggestive jokes, other than that this is just as chaotic as the first part

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ part three is coming soon! hope you enjoy mwah <3

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: hey charles i really don’t want to be a bother but i quickly wanted to apologize for the insta post that was made about us a few hours ago!

charles <3: Hey, don’t worry, you’re not a bother! :) And I don’t really care about the post.

y/n: wait

y/n: you don’t care?

charles <3: Nope, I thought the whole flirting thing (the comments etc) was just a joke between friends, yk. At first I was a little confused, to be honest, since we don't usually joke like that, but I figured it was just the way you interact with people you feel more comfortable with!

[ seen 1:29pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: i’m so scared

princess george: WHAT DID HE SAY

y/n: he thinks it was a flirty joke between friends

princess george: HUH? So I did all that painfully obvious flirting for nothing💀

y/n: AHA

y/n: SO YOU DID DO ALL THESE THINGS TO GET ME TO CONFESS TO CHARLES.

princess george: Someone had to do it! I'm sick of watching you guys literally be in love with the other and still claim to be "just friends" 🤓

y/n:🧍‍♀️

y/n: that isn’t the point now

y/n: the point is WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY

princess george: YOU HAVENT REPLY YET??

y/n: NO I LEFT HIM ON READ BC I PANICKED IDK

princess george: i'm going to have to call carmen to give you some girly advice if you don't start getting bold💀

y/n: OKAYOKAY BUT WHAT SHOULD I SAY

y/n: HURRY UP HES BEEN ON SEEN FOR FIVE MINUTES NOW

princess george: IDK ASK GOOGLE

y/n: GEORGE WTF

princess george: DONT ‘GEORGE WTF’ ME! YOU KNOW I DONT WORK WELL UNDER PEER PRESSURE

y/n: you’re a racing driver💀

princess george: your point?

[ seen 1:37pm ]

princess george: hello???

[ seen 1:38pm ]

y/n: I ASKED GOOGLE LIKE YOU TOLD ME TO AND THEY DIDNT DO SHIT

y/n: they had the audacity to correct me too

princess george: 💀💀

[ seen 1:40pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: you think it was a joke?

charles <3: Well yeah

charles <3 I mean

charles <3: It couldn’t have been anything more

y/n: what if it was tho?

y/n: hypothetical ofc!!!!

charles <3: Well I honestly don’t know

charles <3: If we are speaking hypothetically, I think I would be flattered.

y/n: and if we aren’t speaking hypothetically?

charles <3: Then I would probably still feel flattered.

charles <3: Y/n? Hello?

y/n: SORRY MY PHONE FELL DOWN

charles <3: LMAO

charles <3: Does that mean those flirty jokes weren’t just jokes?

y/n: well.. to me, they’re not jokes, but i’m not the one who made them. i wasn’t supposed to tell you yet but i’m getting sick of george so idc

y/n: i lost a bet to him and had to hand over my main social media accounts for 24 hours, meaning all the comments/posts you saw from my main accounts were made by george😭

charles <3: That explains why I saw your private accounts constantly fight with your main accounts in random comment sections💀

y/n: yeah he was really messing with me

y/n: i’ve gotten lots of angry mails from my pr team

charles <3: I can imagine😭 It's only fair that you get back at him.

y/n: oh absolutely.

charles <3: Can I ask a question though?

y/n: sure!

charles <3: Is your newest single actually about me?

y/n: yes it is. i’m sorry you have to find out like this but i really like you, like a lot. i’ve liked you for a while now but i was too scared to talk to you about it because i thought you don’t feel the same.

charles <3: That’s not true

charles <3: I actually do feel the same, and I literally had the same dilemma!

y/n: WHAT

y/n: YOU ALSO LIKE ME??

charles <3: YES!! I really like you :)

y/n: SINCE WHEN

charles <3: Probably since the day I first met you

y/n: no way i thought you hated me back then💀

charles <3: No don’t worry I didn’t😭 My brother Arthur said I always have this certain look to myself when I meet new people. He said I tend to look a little “off” when I’m overwhelmed, so that was probably it lol

y/n: oh yeah, george said the same about you

charles <3: Aha very nice of him💀

charles <3: Btw I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking this, but what are we now? I’m just a little confused

y/n: how about we take it slow and start going on little dates? like trying this whole thing out and seeing if we can actually be more than friends.

charles <3: I had the same in mind :)

charles <3: And George still has control over your main accounts?

y/n: yep for the next 2-3 hours :’)

charles <3: alright, ready to get back at him?

y/n: ABSOLUTELY

[ seen 1:59pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: Y/N DID HE REPLY YET?

[ sent 1:43pm ]

princess george: Y/N?

princess charles: HELLOOOO

[ sent 1:44pm ]

princess george: CMON I CAN SEE YOURE ONLINE

[ sent 1:46pm ]

princess george: DONT BE SO CRUEL

princess george: PLEASEEE

princess george: I WANNA KNOW WHAT HE SAID

[ sent 1:50pm ]

princess george: UGH fine

princess george: Guess my finger slipped again🙄🙄🙄

[ sent 1:55pm ]

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, georgerussell63 and 8,379,158 others

yourusername save a horse, ride a char- COWBOY

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 268,368 comments…

user375 HELP ME WHAT

user121 girl you gotta stop being horny on the internet😭

georgerussell63 Oh. My. God.😲😲 Y/n this isn’t your private account

user54 you’re acting very sus there mate

user488 well someone needs to get laid💀

user224 simp of the day🫵

pierregasly i can’t watch this

yourusername then look away🤷‍♀️😂

user865 you’re so relatable

user308 cowboy charles😍😍

urusername_alt🔒 YOU DID NOT

yourusername I did xx

urusername_alt🔒 DELETE THIS RN

yourusername Nopee

carlos55sainz I’m so confused

charles_leclerc my lap is free🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername WHAT

urusername_alt🔒 wait- fr?🤭🤭

landonorris pause. stop right there.

yourusername | 📍 paris, france

liked by senelagomez, carlos55sainz and 21,488,321 others

yourusername feels good to finally have this account back

view all 170,325 comments…

zendaya stunning as always✨

liked by yourusername

user965 mother is mothering🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

user233 does a stronger word than mother exist??

user355 @/charlesleclerc you better wife her up before i do

user212 there’s no way they’re actually together, now that she revealed that george was behind all those comments/posts

user593 i was NOT prepared

charles_leclerc come to monaco, we miss you

landonorris who’s we

yourusername @/landonorris stfu you salty bitch, you’re just jealous i didn’t visit you last year💀

charles_leclerc just added to their story !

∿ taglist ─ @81astri @ch3rryknots @cs55version @fdl305 @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @teenagedreams-cl @headinthecloudssblog @mrsmaybank13 @glai1023-blog @luvrrish @hevburn @charlespear @bibissparkles @siovhanroy ( my taglist if you want to get tagged in my works )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

© milaeth | 2023

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

If He Wanted To, He Would

July Prompt: Any Song Lyrics | Word Count: 2000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Eddie POV, Modern Setting, Sports AU, Rockstar Eddie, Baseball Player Steve, Very Public Love Affair, Corroded Coffin, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

I've used lyrics from Take Me Out to the Ball Game & Blank Space.

Even the news is covering it. 

That's fucking ridiculous. There's an animated graphic, a live tracker of where his plane is, a moving dot over the Atlantic, like it's Christmas Eve and he's Santa Claus.

Eddie's gonna make it. He was always gonna make it, even as the press ran the numbers, the miles, and milked every ounce of drama out of it.

He made game one, and game four, and now he's racing back from playing Wembley in London to make it for game seven. The media has tried to sell the idea that Steve wanted the World Series to go to seven, just so Eddie would be able to attend.

Eddie's glad he's getting to see it, of course he is, but if they could have swept it in four, or locked it down in five or six, that would have been fucking awesome. Even if that meant Eddie missed seeing it live, and had to watch on television, in the middle of the night, across the world.

There are a shitton of tiktoks every week, dissecting their every move, looking for easter eggs. Eddie is just living his life, even if a million people are always watching him like a fucking hawk.

Goodie is walking back from the beer garden in the stadium, carrying his plastic cup in his mouth as he fiddles with something in his hands. Not spilling a goddamn drop. Eddie can only see this because he's being broadcast onto the stadium jumbotron.

When he climbs the stairs into the suite, Eddie asks, "Where's Gareth?"

"Got spotted. Now he's taking pictures. I just slipped away unnoticed. Sucker," Goodie says, putting his cup down on the table.

"Unnoticed, huh?" Eddie teases. He won't tell him. He'll just wait until Goodie sees it online for himself. "There's free beer back there you know?" Eddie asks. Neither one of them needed to venture out into the crowd.

Goodie shrugs, "I wanted this kind."

He could have had that kind, could have had any kind, if he'd just asked for it. But no, he wanted to be out among the people. 

None of them are particularly fond of baseball, but they are fond of Steve, so here they are. The whole band doesn't always come, but it's the championship game, so they did.

And the score has been 1-0 forever. 

Wayne is pacing. Unlike them, he loves baseball, even if he's been a little turncoat, switching teams like a lifetime of dedication meant nothing at all. He's gotten a little shit from his friends back home, but Eddie thinks it's honestly very sweet. Eddie loves that Wayne likes Steve enough to put him and his team as his number one with a bullet, now.

It helps that Steve's part of a fucking dynasty. It's fun to win, even Eddie gets that.

Wayne doesn't always hang out in suites. More often than not, he'd rather sit in the stands. Focus on the baseball, not the celebrity that's now surrounding it. But Wayne's been dragged into their highly publicized love affair, and now he's starting to get recognized all on his own, so Eddie worries. 

Plus, he'd rather have him right here, where they can spend time together.

"What's the count?" Eddie asks. 

"3-2," Wayne answers.

Eddie's distracted, filling his plate with the various appetizers that came with the steep price of the private suite. Sliders, pigs in a blanket, and all kinds of other fancified versions of comfort food. He's just scooping some mac & cheese on his plate when he hears his main guitar riff from Buckwild. He puts down his plate, making his way to the big windows just in time to see Steve step towards the batter's box. 

Steve only changes his walk-up music to Corroded Coffin when Eddie's in attendance. He currently walks-up to Milkshake, which is fucking hilarious. He's one of the first openly out players, and he really leans into it, changing up his walk-up music, usually to something a little queer. Eddie knows it's partially to poke fun at himself first, before anyone else can. 

But tonight, it's his song. Eddie's sure he's being broadcast on the jumbotron from some camera he can't even see, and may even be on live television. Eddie watches as Steve briefly points his bat, and at first Eddie thinks Steve's calling his shot, but no. Not unless he's intending to hit a foul ball.

No, he gestured at Eddie. At least where he assumed Eddie would be.

Eddie fiddles with the rings on his hand, moving from finger to finger, twisting them around and around as Steve swings and misses for the second time. Eddie can hardly watch, it makes him so nervous.

"What's the count?" Eddie asks. It's the only question he knows to ask.

"2-2," Wayne says from somewhere behind him. Wayne doesn't stand at the front when it's likely the camera is on them. Eddie gets it, he does, but he'd like him at his side. The windows are open tonight, and the fans in the seats in front of the suite have leaned up to talk to them, to get things signed, and Eddie has done it. They all have. Waving off security.

Nobody is being shitty, just excited, and Eddie's grateful he's been accepted by most of Steve's fans. There was always the fear that he'd be seen as a distraction, and sure, that's been a bit of the narrative, but Steve's in the goddamn World Series. His head is obviously still in the game.

Eddie signed a custom Corroded Coffin jersey with Steve's number on the back earlier, and if that wasn't fucking weird and delightful. And Harrington jerseys have been increasingly spotted at their gigs, from one in the crowd, to a dozen or more.

Steve takes the next ball, and Eddie was terrible at baseball as a kid. He swung at everything. He never had the self-control to wait for something good. 

He's glad he grew out of that, at least a little, because he waited, and now he has Steve. A goddamn home run in human form. 

Eddie's relieved when he hears the crack of the bat finally making contact with the ball, and he watches intently until Steve's safely on first, Eddie leaning out of the open box window, hanging onto the frame, screaming.

He rights himself, clapping hard as he spins in a circle, screaming some more.

Then, Eddie watches as Steve steals second on a wild pitch, and the stadium sound system blares to life with Gimme Three Steps.

Steve dusts himself off from his slide in, and Eddie is so fucking smitten. 

And his ass looks damn good in those pants. His milkshake did bring Eddie to the yard.

It's the seventh-inning stretch, and Eddie hears the familiar, "for it's one, two, three strikes, you're out," being sung by the entire stadium.

He's nervous now. More nervous than he ever is going on stage anymore.

They've made it this far, and he wants Steve to win the whole thing. 

They do win. Steve fielded a grounder, whipped it to first base, and with one last out, it was finally over. Gloves being thrown in the air, lots of hugs and jumping up and down.

Steve did it.

And Eddie smiles.

Steve isn't released, not yet. There'll be interviews, and a parade that Eddie unfortunately can't attend, so Eddie only gets a few minutes in the tunnel with him. Some stolen kisses and a silly groped handful, just giving Steve's cup a squeeze, to make him laugh. 

It's all too brief, but he'll see him soon. 

They go from the game straight back to the airport, Goodie and Gareth both pretty drunk after too many celebratory shots, leaving Jeff and him to babysit as they get wheels up, to head back across the pond. Their world tour, waiting.

They'll make it. 

Steve swears jet-lag is a choice, and Eddie's choosing to believe him.

Another city, and his turn on the big stage, as Eddie looks out towards the VIP tent. Steve waves with both hands over his head, making himself larger, more easily seen.

Steve attended a few Monday shows with Robin, when their schedules lined up enough to allow it. But now his season is over. He's a fucking world champion, and it's the offseason, which is Eddie's new favorite word.

If he'd known he'd fall in love with a sportsball guy, he would have made sure their tour had a lengthy break during this magical offseason.

Next year.

And Eddie is confident that next year is a given. That's how in he is with their relationship, with Steve. They both have their own lives, their own fame, their own increasingly busy schedules. But they make it work, because they want it to work.

The fans have dubbed all their crisscrossing travel as "if he wanted to, he would" and have been straight up swooning. 

Eddie likes that thought, because he does want to, and he knows Steve wants to, too.

He's committed to this thing, and so is Steve. And if that means flying for hours to be there for the important shit, even if you have to turn around and fly right back, well fuck, you do it. And you don't even think about it.

Eddie slips in a pop cover, mid-set, just being silly, because he wants to shout out Steve a little bit extra tonight. He sings and when he gets to "'cause you know I love the players, and you love the game" and the crowd gets behind it. Steve, too, if his hands in the air are any indication. 

He's a pop girlie at heart, and Eddie loves him for it.

Steve is comfortable in his own skin, and he likes what he likes. He's supportive of Eddie, of Corroded Coffin, and very demonstrative with his affection and admiration. The love is always free-flowing. But, heavy metal isn't his thing. Not really. And that's okay.

So, a little pop is injected for his benefit, Eddie saying 'I love you for who you are' right back.

Buckwild is last, is always last, and Steve's here, so that means a subtle lyric change. He only does it when Steve's in attendance, and it makes the crowd go wild. Changing one word is enough to send them into a frenzy, like they're part of something special and sacred.

They are.

When he approaches the lyric, Steve has moved closer, right at the stage, in front of the barricade, and puts his hand up to his ear, hyping the crowd, getting ready for it, and Eddie can hardly sing through his fucking smile.

When they exit the stage, the first face he sees is Steve's, and Steve opens his arms and Eddie hugs him, pulling back and kissing him, over and over.

He's the one. 

The one he loves.

The one he'll marry.

The one. Period.

Steve waves to the crowd that's gathered to watch, and then he puts his arm around Eddie's waist, ushering him away, one more show over.

In bed, Eddie rests his head against Steve's bare chest. These last few weeks have been different, brand new, and exciting. It's the first time they've really gotten to feel like they're coming home to each other. Getting to be in the same place for an extended period of time, Steve following the tour.

Steve brushes Eddie's bangs off his face, and kisses his forehead.

"You were amazing tonight," Steve whispers, and Eddie grins. 

"So were you, working the crowd," Eddie says.

Steve laughs, and Eddie loves it. Steve's not shy. He's had all the media training, probably more than Eddie, because he's got a brand, a team, to protect. Eddie just runs his mouth at-will, always has.

Steve doesn't hide backstage where Eddie can't see him, no, he always makes sure he's supporting Eddie out loud and with his whole goddamn chest.

So, because he wants to, he does.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

Notes: Obviously inspired by the very public relationship of Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce. Goodie carrying the beer in his teeth is straight up a shoutout to Jason Kelce doing that at the Eras tour. 🍺

This one was so hard to stop writing for at the 2k max word count, lol.

[nattheother]

over the counter and back ✧ jww

tags fluff, meet cute, izakaya!au / midnight diner!au, slight misunderstanding, few swear words, self indulgence (surprising), love me a sopping wet pathetic yn

wc 2.7k words

note that men’s nonno izakaya shoot with dk… yeah... *faints* the hirotaka allegations aint helping either [pic cr. jwwfile on twt]

note i was gonna put an alcohol on the tags but its an izakaya au, u know what ur getting into so :3

crossposted to AO3

—

It wasn’t the weekdays or the rush hour, it’s just the izakaya usually is not that packed. Only two couples on the tables and a woman tonight, who seemed to get off work quite late, sitting at the bar area, seemingly laid back on her phone over her unfinished beer. Old jazzy songs from your boss’ playlist softly filled the bar, warming up the mood.

Your head chef, well, your boss, Kouji, just bid you a farewell. The izakaya just opened about two hours ago this evening, but he had to clock early for his daughter in labour. She usually works part-time here alongside you until about a month ago, which is why you tried to fill her shift until she comes back. Not that you mind.

You wished him good luck before he tackled you into a light hug, resulting in a small “oof!” out of you.

Honestly, handling the diner on a slow day alone doesn’t really worry you. It’s always just the three or two of you. Kouji said the neighborhood was particularly safe, “also it’s a small bar afterall,” he adds.

As you came back from the kitchen after finishing the woman’s check, a new customer came in behind the bar island this time. Young man probably what describes him more. Looks about around his mid 20s, pretty thick rimmed glasses. You’re not sure if it’s his shoulder who’s wide or his button-ups were just oversized, but does he look lean. 

“Welcome! Anything for your order tonight?”

He sits on the barstool at the centre by himself. He adjusts his glasses as he glances around unsure, “yeah, um… just gyudon and draft beer, please,”

You walked around getting the tall glass to pour one from the beer machine. “Sorry, can I ask something?” he promptly starts.

”Yeah?”

”Where is Kouji-san?”

Looking up from the filled glass, you serve the beer on the counter, “Sensei? His daughter’s in labour tonight. I’m in charge for tonight,”

“Only you?” you smiled at his question and nodded, “‘Seems you know Sensei. You’re a regular?”

He took off his watch and chuckled, “Sort of? I do stop by pretty frequently but I’ve kinda never seen you,” he reasoned as he folded up his sleeves.

You laughed softly in the middle of wiping off the beer faucet, pointing to the back with your thumb, “I’m usually in the kitchen.” You put the rag into your apron, “So ring the bell or call up if you need anything.”

You felt the banter was enough as you turned your heels back to the kitchen because you had to make his gyudon, “Wait,” but his calling stopped you in your step. You turned around to him taking a sip of his beer.

“I haven’t gotten your name.”

“If it isn’t Wonwoo!”

Who?

Kouji’s whoop was muffled behind the kitchen curtain. You tried to calmly finish plating up the dish for a current customer so you can quickly move on to this acquaintance of Kouji. Putting his order is for later, so you swiftly deliver the tray full of bowls to the also full table at the back first.

You came back with another tray of empty dishes as you can finally see your next customer.

Oh, right… I forgot to ask his name.

He smiled at you as you confidently welcomed him, mirroring his smile.

In the middle of putting away the dirty dishes, Kouji came into the kitchen with a question, “Wonwoo said he knows you? You’ve never told me!”

You looked back at him in a slight surprise and a chuckle, “Not really, actually, we met around last week I think? You clocked off early.”

What you remembered from that day was after Wonwoo asked your name, customers piling up in a short time right after you served his food. That resulted in you spending most of your time in the kitchen and finished his check a little quickly because the other was also queuing behind him.

“Go take his order. A group just came in just now and I’m taking theirs,” Kouji ordered.

“What?? Why not you earlier, Sensei?” you whined.

After your half-playful complaint of not taking his order, you wipe off your hand dry and sighed on your way out.

“Another draft beer?”

You guessed as you walked up to him. He nodded, “And a mapo tofu, do you have that?” You took out your notes to write down his orders, “I’ll make sure and prepare that for you.

Anything else?”

Days after that, Wonwoo stopped by around eight to nine, assumingly whenever he had overtime. It’s always the same order. One (or more) glass of draft beer and any bowl dishes, that mapo tofu most of the time.

There was also the time where he came in at almost eleven. He usually never shows any signs of fatigue or weariness on his face but you can see the dim in his eyes. You tried to not approach him that much, spending more of your time checking up the kitchen before touching the baton to Kouji for the night.

You rang up his check right before you clock out. He looked a bit more refreshed after his meal, cheeks slightly flushed after a few refills of beer.

“Please walk safe home,” you gave back his card to the small tray alongside the bill.

Not expecting your non-customer service-way farewell, he stared at you for a few seconds before nodding his head, “you too.”

You swear in every language you can think of. Your heart squeezed. Wonwoo was starting to grow in your heart. It’s really nice to see him in the izakaya for a few days a week after that. You never sort of believed in any of those “at first sight” moments, if it works, good for them. While it did feel slightly heavy on your feet anytime you had to walk back to the kitchen instead of seeing him and talk to him, you had to put your mind in place. Focus. 

It could be because he’s one of your first regulars and, cough, is good looking, but you don’t know his background. Who are his friends and family and why does he always come in alone? You’re not even sure if it’s a crush or that you just found comfort with a customer. Either way, workplace is still a workplace and he is your client. This izakaya is your only rendezvous to him.

That is when Wonwoo ordered two glasses of beer. You tried your best not to halt when you stepped out of the kitchen and saw a young woman around his age beside him. You didn’t, and served him his usual bowl of rice. Gyudon this time, and mapo tofu for her.

You need to stop looking like a stalker, hiding behind the kitchen curtain. This is the second time he had brought her to this izakaya. You need to stop before someone accuses you as a total creep as you compare their interaction a few days ago with today. Almost the same. From outside it looked like they were having a quite serious and private discussion, noting down stuff on paper and their phone alternatively. As if someone’s life was actually on the line. You are also lucky Kouji will come later at night, because he might also accuse you as a total creepy stalker.

You try only focusing on attending customers. It’s almost the weekend and customers start piling up before you realize Wonwoo was already sitting alone. You try to not overthink why he didn’t take her home himself and let her go home by herself.

You walk up to the bar to check the beer dispenser. You can feel his eyes boring at you, slightly dim again like it was a couple weeks ago, and two empty glasses of beer.

“Need a refill?” you carefully ask, walking up to him.

“I’m good.” he slightly smiles before asking for his check.

You kept your sweet encouragement to yourself as you don’t want to force and assume anything towards him. He left the change and gave you a tip.

“Wonwoo?”

It was nearing autumn. Though the sun was already setting at five, the bar still opens at the same time. The rain pours hard, covering any sign of the sun setting with gloom. But nothing could’ve prepared you other than the six feet tall man crouching under the roof in front of the closed bar you’re working at, shading himself from the rain. You grip your umbrella tighter when he looks up to your call.

He calls your name in recognition as he stands up.

The rain poured harder above the roof of the izakaya when you hand Wonwoo the warm coffee on the bar. He’s in the middle of taking off his damp jacket when he looks up to you at the sight of the cup.

“On the house,”

“Thank you.”

You busy yourself behind the bar, checking and tidying stuff up under the bar as Wonwoo sips on his coffee. You peek glances over him. He doesn’t look as tired as the last time you saw him. But if your over-analysis and timeline matched, his reasoning behind crouching like a pathetic man in front of your workplace must have something to do with it.

“Is it okay if I ask you what’s wrong?”

Your sudden approach jolts him a little. He chuckles, “it’s fine,” you wait for his pause.

“I can say it’s family matters. Something came up and we had to figure it out somehow, a little stressful I might say,” you hum understanding.

“Did you not have work today? You usually come later. It’s not even six yet,”

He shakes his head, “No, I just finished super early. My seniors are having dinner, too, so,”

“Not going?”

“Not really my thing. Only works when I was new,”

He takes a sip of his coffee again. You space out for a moment not knowing what to respond. You were never the best at comforting someone. For as long as you’ve been friends with your best friends, you’ve always listened. Maybe give them some hugs and pats on the head, words of “I’m here” and “You’re not on your own” repeatedly said, affirming.

You felt sort of bad and truly embarrassed at how you acted behind him the past weeks, sort of suspecting his love life, getting (you admit) jealous at some random woman you don’t know and didn’t even try to know. Maybe what you thought a few weeks ago was right. Maybe you do have a huge cru–

“Yes, Wonwoo?” your ribbons of thoughts were snipped by Wonwoo calling your name.

“You’re usually bright, is something wrong?”

Confused by his question, you look around unsure. Guests usually come around an hour after opening, and you never wished someone to come in right now so bad through your whole career.

“M-maybe? I don’t know, sorry,”

Wonwoo was in the middle of wiping his glasses with the paw of his sleeves. He puts them back on.

“It’s usually me who’s quiet between us,” he adjusts them to the bridge of his nose, looking up at you from his seat, smiling.

Between us? He’s not making this any better. You scratch the back of your neck, not planning to come up with any reply or answer. You avert your gaze to the window, trying to avoid his eyes. Your wish of customers barging in is washed away by the rain—not slowing down any minute apparently.

“I just thought something came up and you had to like,” you chuckle at your assumption, “get off early or, run away or some sort,”

Wonwoo was still sipping his coffee. Not sensing his answer in any minute, you finish your prior thought with your remaining breath, “sort of heartbroken-looking.”

You organize the shot bottle on the under bar, again trying to distract yourself from the fact that he's now facing you, eyes boring. You didn’t budge and he stared at his coffee.

“I wanna get to know you, Wonwoo,” you finally look at him. Emphasizing on your tone, you don’t want him to feel like you’re just messing around.

“Can I?” you ponder at him, preparing yourself for the worst.

“I don’t know if it's possible. For all the time you came here, the past few weeks, I always get all... gung-ho when cooking, or preparing side dishes and bowls in the back. It’s like I want you to see me doing great like there’s nothing wrong in my mind. You know, "bright" like you said. It’s honestly stupid, fuck…” you breath out the last word.

“And then you came in super late that night, with that… heavy shoulders and countless refills of this damned beer, and then came in with that lady not once but twice, and this… serious tension between the two of you. You know, I just didn’t want to assume but it’s just… I don’t know, it was kinda confu–”

“With who now?”

You instantly pause, knowing full well he has probably catched on. So you sigh, “That… friend around your age. Pretty, slight tan, long hair,” you scratch your forehead in defeat. It’s like your pride just splurts out like a balloon being squished its air out.

You excuse yourself by collecting his empty cup on the top counter to refill it, but a hand halts your steps grabbing onto your arm.

“Don’t give me more, I don’t handle caffeine that well.”

“Just… let me put this back to the kitchen,”

“Later. Sit here.” he orders.

Your heart flinched at the slight octave drop of his already soft voice. Another sigh of loss, you put back the cup. Wonwoo slowly let go of your arm to let you walk around the bar counter.

It’s now a whole new view. Wonwoo is sitting right next to you and you can definitely smell his cologne. Even just one second of eye contact, you couldn’t handle it. How does one’s gaze be so soft and comforting? You dart your eyes and cover them with your hands with elbows on the table.

“Just… let's just finish this. I already feel ridiculous.”

All you can catch with your ears was his soft chuckle and fabric rustling, “you wanna get to know me right?”

You feel his fingers snake around your wrist, gently pulling your hands away from your face. Seeing his face up close does not help even one bit, you feel even more like shit of how messy and pathetic you must’ve looked.

“That… “friend”, is my future sister-in-law,” he starts,

Your eyeballs could probably see the back of your head as you whip your head away in another embarrassment, “Ugh, Wonwoo, enough of that,”

“Which is why we were so stressed we had to talk about it on our own. My brother’s marriage is on the line.”

You hear his tone indicating him smiling whilst explaining. To be frank, you kind of already gave up the moment his voice dropped an octave lower. All you can do now is just to sit next to Wonwoo with his thumb drawing circles on your palm. 

“It’s not stupid,” he softly assures, fingertips a little cold from sheltering the rain earlier. But it does feel so to you. Stupid crush at the ripe age of your 20s. Great. 

“So can I get to know you then?”

You look up at him, desperate for his answer and decision.

“Only if I get to know you, too. Here,”

He taps his finger to the table, hand still not letting go of yours. You make sure once more, “like right here?”

He nods, “until today’s first customer.”

You’re not sure if the smile on your lips is for him or just out of embarrassment, “Well technically you are one,” you chuckle, “at least let me put this back to the kitchen.”

Well, now that your stupid crush issue is all clear, you can finally find the courage to look at his face one more time, no meddling. All you can focus on was the soft and playful beam on his eyes behind that thick specs.

“Tell Kouji-san you got a date tonight.”

[18:06] sensei [18:06] i might have to clock off early

[18:12] Oh sure, something’s up?

[18:13] yeah umm [18:13] i just booked myself a date

[18:14] Oooh [18:14] Hahaha [18:14] About time that wonwoo

[18:14] ??? [18:14] sensei???

—

[m.list]

im bout to make a “try not writing scenario about another meet cute at 3 am” challenge (already failed)

[pressureplus]

Ok ok hear me out.. what if, you did a part two of “Reflection” but the reader finally gets to read Sebastian’s document? And kinda sees how similar they look. It’s kinda dumb because it wouldn’t really much to write about but it’s just a thought 😭

No no, don't apologize. I can work with anything as long as its got 1 sentence or three descriptive words and a vibe! I can easily make you a part two!

Doppelganger

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟ ◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

At last you purchased that damn document of his. It had sat on his desk almost teasingly out of your hands. A previous attempt to grab it had ended with his hand pressed over the classified file and a smile. His words spoken slow, as though you were stupid, as he explained that you certainly didn’t have enough for that. Now you could finally touch it all you want. A part of you was feeling a bit sassy when you snatched it right off his desk proudly. The thousand data pieces you just sold to him being shuffled away. You ignored that, for the most part, more focused on finally getting your hands around the classified information you’d been curious about. Finally popping open the file to see what it is he’s been leaving on his desk, you’re met with tons of information. A few pictures falling out that you don’t quite manage to catch.

You ignore them, taking a seat in Sebastian’s shop as he moves around the room, shuffling different pieces of paperwork and chips into places. His hands reaching up for the vents above his head and tugging out a few spare pieces of equipment. You can hear him opening the packs her wanders around with, attaching things to the straps around his body. You choose to ignore that for now. Instead choosing to read the file in front of you. Your eyes scan over the first line, catching onto three things at once. His technical experiment name, his codename, and finally his legal name. Your eyes scanned each individual word quietly. The shuffling in the background not particularly drawing any of your attention. There’s that shoot to kill statement you’ve heard a thousand times before. You’re starting to understand why he’s so aggressive. You’d be pretty pissed too if you were an experiment gone wrong, especially if you hadn’t even done the crime you were accused of.

At last you shut the file, eyes being drawn back to the images now laying on the ground. You scoop them both up. In your hands is an image of current Sebastian, larger and aggressive. He looks damn near ready to shoot the camera. On the other image…you. No wait, not you? His jawline is a bit sharper and he’s got a scar on his face but he looks so much like you. Honestly, it’s a bit shaking. A mugshot that isn’t yours but looks so much like you. The more you stare at it the more begins to make sense to you. The dots connecting on why his reaction to your face was so aggressive. Why he tends to almost stare a little too long. You thought it was because he found you ugly, or because he was trying to grieve the death of a loved one. In some ways, you suppose, he is. He’ll never have this face again. He’ll never be able to see himself properly in the mirror and he certainly wasn’t the innocent man accused of a crime he didn’t commit anymore. How many people had he killed trying to get what was necessary to escape? How human was he anymore, without his face, without his body. Was it human desperation, or animal?

“You never told me you were so pretty.” You joke as Sebastian jolts. It seems he’d gotten so wrapped up in adjusting things that he hadn’t even realized you were still in here. His eyes flick from your face down to your hands. You turn the picture of him around, pointing at it. This only seems to make him mildly uncomfortable as he looks away with a huff.

“Could you not have opened that anywhere else?”

“Sorry…it’s just…you really are handsome.”

“I was, I guess. That was a long time ago now quite obviously.” He slithers closer, scooping up his file and taking the pictures back. He’s careful to push them back into the titled document before shutting it. Then and only then does he hand the folder back to you.

“You still are, maybe you look a little different now, but you’re still very pretty.”

“That’s not a funny thing to joke about.”

“I’m being serious, Sebastian. You’re pretty with or without a human face. Even if this one isn’t really ideal…I still think you look great.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve still got yours intact.”

“If it’s too painful to look at, I can fix that by wearing my helmet all the time? I just want you to be comfortable. I want you to know that even if you’re not human anymore that doesn’t make you…a monster.” He hesitates, the words sinking into his skin. He’s quiet for a good while before sighing. His hand coming up to his face to drag downward, a display of his exhaustion.

“Just…get out. Take your folder, your batteries, and go back to getting that crystal.”

[dat-town]

abcdlove

Characters: school radio club leader!Taesan & class president!female reader

Setting & genre: high school au, coming of age, first love, fluff, a hint of enemies to lovers but it’s only in the girl’s head

Summary: You convinced yourself that you hated Han Taesan after what he had done in sophomore year but now you have to work together on a senior project and maybe he isn’t that bad. Or maybe just for your heartbeat.

Warnings: stage names are used, OC has negative opinion about Taesan and Leehan in the beginning, mentions of social and parental pressure, the amount of banana milk consumed might not be healthy, hopefully not too ooc even though i wrote it within like 2 weeks after @restlessmaknae started sending me bonedo content

Words: 9.6k

Author’s note: this is the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. this really pulled me out of my writing slump, so thank you for that! honestly my first impression of Taesan was that he looks like a tsundere, so that’s pretty much how it all started.

i'm pretty sure you guessed it; happy name day @restlessmaknae <3

read Leehan’s companion piece here

You had been following your well-planned route to success for years. You had already taken advanced courses at a prestigious hagwon, a private after-school academy for the subjects you totally needed to ace at CSAT. You also offered tutoring services to underclassmen, volunteered at the local library during summer and carefully chose your extracurriculars to align with the ideal student vision SKY universities had. You only needed to follow through the plan in your senior year too and you would be fine. You would finally make it.

Needless to say Han Taesan wasn’t part of your plans.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of the principal’s office where you were heading in all his 6 feet tall glory, his school uniform’s tie neatly done for once.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted out with no greeting when your steps slowly halted next to him, your jaw set and muscles tense.

Taesan turned his head slowly and looked at you impassively from under his dark fringe before speaking up in his raspy voice that made your classmates swoon whenever they heard him make a radio announcement.

“What does it look like?” He raised a brow as if he was telling you not to ask stupid things.

There could only be two kinds of reasons why somebody was called into the principal’s room: either very good or very bad. You had never gotten into trouble, so you were hoping for something positive but seeing the boy there wasn’t really promising. Not because he was a troublemaker or a bad student. He might not have been a straight A student like yourself but he was the leader of the school radio club and he was also generally liked among his peers as far as you knew. Your wariness was more so because you didn’t want to be associated with him in any way.

“Oh, both of you are already here. Wonderful! Come in, come in,” the office door opened and Principal Im rushed you inside with a welcoming smile.

At least, you could be sure by then that the news wasn't anything too bad.

You took a step to follow the man inside at the same time Taesan moved next to you as well which made you momentarily falter. However the boy merely reached out and put a hand onto the door’s edge to keep it from closing. You had to force yourself not to scoff at the fake gentleman-ish action and instead just duck under his arm to go inside the office.

You just sat down in one of the cushy chairs and smoothed out the lines of your school uniform skirt when you heard the door close and soon enough Taesan took the chair next to you.

“Alright, I won’t even waste your precious time since I know both of you are busy. I called the two of you here because as representatives of the senior classes, I would like the two of you to conduct interviews with your classmates and prepare a pre-recorded radio segment that can be broadcasted on graduation day. It can be about anything you want: what the students’ aspirations are or what they liked the best in high school. I trust you will do a great job,” the principal smiled at you hopefully but you could feel your own polite smile freeze onto your face. This was not how you imagined yourself spending the first term of senior year.

“But…”

“Yes, Y/N?” The principal looked at you expectantly and you could feel Taesan’s dark eyes on you as well which snapped you out of your confused stupor.

“Why the two of us?”

“Of course, you can get others to help too if you want but you have exceptional organizing skills as I heard and Taesan already has experience with our recording system and editing softwares. You two were the first ones we could think of, but of course I can’t force you…”

“It would be an honor, Principal Im,” you hurried to stop him there because there was no way you would have said no to a task like this. Not only because you could hardly say no anyways but also because it would look good on your resume. The only thing that bothered you was having to do it with a boy you could not stand. If you had that much time and you could do so, you would have gladly done it alone without his help but no matter how much you hated it, Principal Im was right: he had the skills to perfect a radio segment.

“Great! If you don’t have further questions, then good luck!”

“Okay, what about we meet after school to discuss the plans?” You asked immediately once you left the principal office because you had less than 5 minutes until first period and since you didn’t share a class with Taesan, you rarely ran into each other unplanned (thank god) and you would need your color-coded planner from your bag to plan any further than the afternoon.

“I have a radio club thing until 6,” Taesan simply said, not offering any alternatives, so you let out a sigh. Of course. What did you expect?

“And I have academy classes every other day,” you pointed out because he wasn’t the only one busy. “Then I can just email you your parts and we don’t need to–”

“So you can complain later that I’m freeloading off your hard work? No thanks,” the boy interrupted you and your gaze sharpened at him. He leaned casually against the corridor’s wall, a hand reaching up to loosen his tie and tilted his head at you as if to challenge you to protest. “We can make do during lunch hour.”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him that you had plans already but going over your History notes, when it was just the first week of the term and you were ahead of the course work anyway, wasn’t that necessary even though you hated giving in to his idea.

“Okay, let’s meet outside at the benches then,” you agreed, telling yourself to be the bigger person, and turned your back on the boy before he could see the frustration bubbling up in you.

You and Han Taesan had the kind of history that you didn’t really like to revisit. That’s why your initial reaction was to roll your eyes whenever you heard his voice on the school radio or to puke your guts out when girls gushed about his ‘tsundere charm’. Their words, not yours.

Actually you would have probably not cared about the guy if it wasn’t for your model student campaign which he had ruined. Last year the school had run an event to choose a student representative by voting and every candidate could have a pre-recorded segment on the radio. You had your own carefully recorded and edited audio file with the best convincing speech you could prepare and emailed them the sharing link on time just to hear yourself sing your go-to karaoke song through the radio on the big day. In panic, you ran to the school radio broadcasting station only to find Taesan sitting there by the control panel with headphones over his ears, calmly letting the audio play well past the two minutes mark, seemingly not finding it weird at all that somebody tried to win the campaign with a karaoke rendition of a love song instead of saying a few words. As it turned out, you managed to share your entire recordings folder with the radio team but the club president, instead of playing the file titled campaign_speech_final.mp3, decided that AUD_20230326_192251.mp3 was the right track for your model student image. That week you not only lost that title to the grade’s pretty boy, but you lost your pride as well and it was all Taesan’s fault. Not that he ever thought to apologize or right his wrongdoings. So no, you weren’t looking forward to working with him at all.

He was late.

You had already dotted down six different questions and a rough program outline with your half-finished, now cold rosé pasta lunch menu  on the side by the time Taesan put his tray down on the outdoor table.

“You are late,” you picked at him right away which earned you a rather confused look.

“It’s still lunch hour,” he pointed out and dug into his own kimchi jjigae like he had all the time in the world. His behavior was seriously dancing on your nerves.

“Whatever. Let’s get into it,” you prompted because you didn’t have time to argue about semantics or his attitude. “We should divide the related tasks this week, finalize the questions and gather people for the interviews, then we can start on those next week.”

“What’s the rush? We have months until graduation,” Taesan questioned and while he was right (or because), you had the sudden urge to strangle him right there. You forced yourself to stay calm.

“Well, I don’t like to leave things to the last minute. Closer to graduation, we will be busy with the exams and college applications anyway.”

“As if you don’t already have everything prepared,” he muttered absentmindedly, scooping more kimchi on his spoon, eating without a care.

You pursed your lips, annoyed. You needed to remind yourself again that you had no time nor the energy to argue with him if you wanted to get this discussion done before your upcoming English class.

“Khm… so we can agree on splitting the interviews between us, right? You interview your classmates and I will do mine. We just need a common question sheet,” you said, tapping the end of your pen on the table.

Whether it was the repetitive sound or your words, it managed to get Taesan’s attention. He looked up from his food and leaned forward on his elbows, his dark eyes sharpening their focus on you.

“How would you record the interviews?” He asked, simply yet you had a feeling it was a tricky question.

“On my phone?” You furrowed your brows. Wasn’t it obvious? How else did he expect you to do it?

“That won’t be good. We would have a huge difference in audio quality. So unless you are fine with that, you need proper equipment. I can borrow a portable mic from the radio club, but I’m not trusting you with that.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened in disbelief but Taesan didn’t elaborate on his reason. Ridiculous. He was just looking for faults in your ideas.

You let out a huff of frustration.

“Are you that desperate that we work together?”

“It’s called professionalism, miss class president,” he taunted you, looking completely serious. “I don’t want to broadcast anything under my name that’s just ‘good enough’.”

“Do you now?” You snorted and rolled your eyes. As if it wasn’t him who played your singing for the entire school. Where was his professionalism then? Who was he to lecture you about it? But okay, you could be the bigger person if he was so freaking stubborn. “Fine. We can do the interviews together with your fancy mic. These are the initial questions I thought of.”

You slid your open notebook towards him with questions about what they used to dream of becoming as a kid, what they want to be now, what colleges and majors they considered as well as their most memorable moment at the school and what they would tell their younger selves or their underclassmen. Taesan furrowed his brows as he was reading through the draft, probably dissecting each of your questions like a poor lab rat but eventually didn’t say anything. You raised a brow at him when your eyes met and he just shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” he said which didn’t really added value but at least he didn’t find something to pick on in everything you did.

The rest of the discussion went easier as it was obvious that he would be the editor and you would organize the interviews. You were already mentally preparing a survey to send out to the students via the group chats you usually used for class president duties to see when they would be free to conduct the interview among the slots you offered. Taesan wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the hectic and busy scheduling in the upcoming weeks but eventually agreed to get it over with within two months tops. He must have realized too that the earlier you finished with this project, the sooner the two of you could part ways.

You had the first batch of interviews at the end of next week. After ruling out inconvenient locations, you ended up with the obvious option: doing the recordings in the school radio clubroom. You were against it at first because the last time you had been there you faced public humiliation, whispers behind your back for weeks about your singing and messed up campaign, but objectively speaking you knew it was the most reasonable choice, so you bit the bullet.

You arrived ahead of time, of course, but you were quite surprised that Taesan was already there too, setting up who-knows-what on the professional equipment. He looked up when the door opened, the sun hitting the side of his face, giving it a natural warm glow, a stark contrast to the coldness he often radiated. He acknowledged your presence with a nod then went back to his work, so you just put your stuff down next to the round table in the middle of the room and got ready with your nicely printed questionnaire.

For the most part, the interviews went well, the students showed up more or less on time for their own slot, Taesan let you do the talking, merely letting you know when a recording started or ended. It all started going down when the last interviewee for the day didn’t show up. After five minutes passed, you texted Wonyoung asking politely whether she forgot the interview but she didn’t answer. Ten more minutes of awkward silence while Taesan was playing (or texting, you couldn’t tell) on his phone, you tried calling her but with no success. You started getting restless and frustrated.

“She could have at least told us if she wasn’t going to come,” you muttered more to yourself than anything when your next call went to the voicemail as well. It was such a waste of time just waiting.

“Why do you always assume the worst of people? Maybe something happened and she can’t make it. She could be too sick to care about you blowing up her KakaoTalk,” Taesan looked up from his phone and there was something in his eyes that made you feel like you were in the wrong, like you were a sulky child because generally it wasn't like you were always this pessimistic about people, but before you could have argued, Taesan sighed. “You can go. I can interview her if she shows up until 6.”

Well, you could have taken his word and left. Wonyoung was his classmate and he probably didn’t have anything better to do anyways. There was a set list of questions and not much to mess up. But just as he didn’t want you to handle his beloved mic alone, you didn’t want to leave it to him alone. So you just stubbornly held his gaze, trying to come up with a more profound reason when the clubroom’s door opened and Wonyoung stepped inside in the cheerleading squad’s PE clothes.

“Sorry. Practice got delayed. Thanks for waiting for me,” she panted and Taesan sent you a ‘told you so’ look which made you want to commit atrocities. You hated not being right and even more to be reminded of it.

“It’s okay. Catch your breath,” you turned to the girl with a reassuring smile but you were undeniably relieved when you could finally bid goodbye to her and pack up. It was getting late.

However, when you saw that Taesan was still saving the audio files and uploading them to your shared cloud folder, then putting away the recording device and the mic, you stalled around the door, feeling inconsiderate to leave earlier.

“Just go,” the boy muttered gently when he noticed your hesitation and you didn’t need to be told twice.

On your way to the bus stop, you stopped by at your favorite corner convenience store for some banana milk and almost missed your bus but luckily the driver saw you running and stopped.

“Thank you,” you bowed to the middle aged man who just mumbled something about youngsters these days, then tapped your transportation card against the sensor before looking for a place to sit.

Since it was past the rush hour, there were quite a few empty seats but there was one next to a familiar face close to the door. He had put on a hoodie over his uniform and had his head against the window, eyes closed but you would have easily recognized his long ass limbs everywhere. With the taste of your hurt pride still fresh on your tongue you walked past him, sitting down in the very back, only checking on Taesan a few times to see if he managed to wake up in time to get off at his stop.

Even without the interview project, senior year was busy. You felt like your days were piles of classes, homework, mock tests, real tests, tutoring and studying. Sometimes you memorized English vocabulary or dates for History class even during your lunch breaks or on bus rides because that way you could make the most out of your time. Some might have argued that you took it too seriously but if you wanted to get into the top universities of the country, you had to.

No wonder you spent the two hours you had between classes and tutoring on Friday in the library too, working on your Literature essay. It was kind of boring and you had a long week; you justified your frequent yawns and slow blinking. You didn’t even notice when you slipped into a dreamless sleep, not until you woke up with your head over your folded arms on the table.

As you were still in the haze, instead of panicking that you might have missed your tutoring class, you slowly blinked yourself back into consciousness and the first thing you saw was a pair of eyes.

The boy sitting at the table next to yours was looking at you with something akin to the mix of concern and amusement but you were too busy committing the lovely almond shape and chocolate brown shade of his eyes to your memory to be bothered by it.

Then the realization hit you like a truck because it was no other than Han freaking Taesan.

Oh, did he always have such pretty eyes?

Realizing that you were staring, you quickly turned your gaze away, sat up properly and fixed your messy hair while mentally reprimanding yourself for letting your sleepiness take too much control over you.

You hastily checked the time on your watch, sighing in relief that you only napped for about 15 minutes, so you still had time to finish what you were doing. Which was…? Ah, right, your essay.

You cleared your throat as you focused back on your homework, pretending not to be hyper aware of every chair creaking or pen against paper scribbling sound coming from the table on your left.

The next batch of interviews were scheduled a week later and you did everything in your power to avoid Taesan, hoping that he would forget that embarrassing little encounter you had in the library. Not like he was looking for you either but now that you have become more aware of his presence, you suddenly noticed him everywhere. He wasn’t just the subject of your classmates’ talks and an annoying voice from the radio anymore, he was in the canteen, on your regular bus, on the corridor between classes. Really, you wondered if it was your mind’s self-sabotaging doing or you just managed to ignore him previously. Since you tended to be laser focused on what to do, often walking by people you know without recognizing them, it wouldn’t have surprised you that much.

Still whenever you saw him, he was usually alone if not with juniors from the radio club, so you were a bit taken aback (and you weren’t sure you were hiding it well) when a bunch of his friends from his class were already in the clubroom by the time you got there. The door was left ajar, so you could hear Jungwon’s bubbly laughter and Gyuvin teasing Taesan for ‘working oh so diligently’. They all fell silent when you pushed the door open wider and suddenly their attention was on you. Leehan patted Taesan’s upper back with a grin and muttered something about ‘boss lady is here’ which earned him a glare.

“We will be on our best behavior,” Jungwon saluted with a promise when it turned out they booked the first three slots of the session on purpose, so they could sit through each other’s interviews. While you interviewed people by themselves, since the entire school would hear the edited version anyways, you supposed it couldn’t be a problem if they really did behave. They were friends after all, if they wanted to share them why not?

Them chuckling at some parts of each other’s answers or whisper-shouted hollering about future ambitions was a bit distracting but nothing seriously annoying. You could only hide your laugh with burying your face in your hands when Gyuvin recited a freshmen memory as his most memorable with a prank that ended with the four of them becoming friends. Apparently the day before the first term’s end, right on the edge of the summer holiday, Taesan had brought soap dispenser-shaped water guns into the PE changing rooms, so whenever somebody just tried to wash their hand, they got wet. It shouldn’t have been funny since it was rather childish, but glancing at the always stern and intimidating Taesan and seeing him smile at the memory turned it into something lovely even if it ended with the four of them arguing about whose was the best prank out of all the ones they did over the years.

It was truly one of a kind to see Taesan interact with his friends, people he felt comfortable around. He suddenly became talkative and loud yet warm and gentle when he scolded Gyuvin like an Asian mom for falling asleep at Miss Lee’s class again but promised to send him his notes once he got home.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged when he caught you red-handed watching him still after he literally pushed his friends out of the door.

Despite witnessing this side of him, if you wanted to be honest, it didn’t quite sit right with you that he was friends with Kim Leehan. The popular boy might not have ever rubbed salt into your wounds by reminding you that he was chosen as the model student representative of the school instead of you who was the grade’s academically best student, the defeat still hurt. You didn’t like to lose in general. So while you knew it was a far-stretched idea, your mind couldn’t stop coming up with scenarios to prove that Taesan sabotaged your campaign speech on purpose to help his friend and it made you irritable and restless during the rest of the interview sessions.

When you were finally alone, it made you blurt out:

“Was it a prank too?”

Taesan froze mid-movement when you spoke up. He was doing the finishing touches, getting ready to leave as it was just the two of you. He slid the headphones, which he used to make sure the recording quality was good, down around his neck.

“What?” He furrowed his brows, visibly confused and you weren’t surprised, he had probably long forgotten how he had humiliated you.

“My model student speech last year,” you said, your nails digging into your palms, bitterness sweeping into your features.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy claimed, firm in his standpoint which made you snort.

“Of course, you don’t,” you muttered, then grabbed your bag and walked out of the door before you would say something you would regret.

A part of you thought that Taesan would ignore you the way you ignored him, especially after your callout (or whatever he wanted to call it), so it took you aback when the opposite happened.

As a class president you often had to help the homeroom teacher. It was nothing out of the ordinary when he called you into the teachers’ room and gave you a box of university application help books to hand out in class. It wasn’t really heavy but there was no proper handle on the box, so you had to hold it against your chest and it made it hard to see the stairs in front of your feet as you walked up to the classroom.

Students came and went both ways around you, nobody really paying attention to you struggling not to fall and you let out a little sigh of relief when you reached the first landing of the staircase without tripping. You adjusted your grip on the big brown box and was about to go on when the box crashed into somebody’s chest… or more like, stomach.

“Sorry, I…”

You were about to apologize automatically when you saw Taesan standing in front of you, very clearly on purpose. However, before you could have told him to move out of your way, he did the unthinkable: he easily took the box out of your hands, his knuckles brushing against your open palms as he did so.

“Hey! Give it back!” You reached out for the box again once you snapped out of your stupor but the boy’s hold on it was too strong.

“Stop being so stubborn for once,” he said, his quiet, deep voice washing over you in waves and then you could barely do anything but watch him turn around and walk up the stairs with ease, the box in his hands and his bag thrown over one of his shoulders.

You shuffled after him a bit awkwardly, halfway torn between being grateful because out of all people in the school only him was considerate enough to offer help and being offended and angry because what if he only did so because he pitied you now that he knew that you still held grudges over what happened last year.

That became a smaller worry though as you realized he was heading straight towards your classroom and you didn’t even want to guess the rumors starting if even just one gossipy girl saw him help you. You grew more anxious the closer you got but Taesan’s steps halted right before he got to the door. You almost bumped into his back at the sudden pause.

“Here,” he turned to you with the box that you took gingerly, making sure you didn’t touch this time.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, actually meaning it but you couldn’t tell with Taesan’s low hum and light on his feet disappearance if he believed you or not.

The third week of interviews went without a glitch. You were almost done which also added to your good mood. One less thing to worry about, one less to-do during your already busy weeks.

Taesan stayed behind in the clubroom this time too, hunching over the computer setup with the headphones on like always but for the first time you said bye. Or well your version of it.

“Don’t stay too late,” you told him loud enough, so he could hear you through the headphones but turned on your heels before you could have seen his reaction.

It was a good day, you decided. You got praised by your Literature teacher for your essay on the themes of social class and Confucian values in your recent obligatory read. The interviews went smoothly and the corner CU had a 1+1 promotion for your favorite banana milk. You even caught the bus just in time, getting on the vehicle after two giggling students. It was busier now than usual because lots of students had to stay longer in preparation for the Freshmen Open Day.

Apologies falling from your lips, you made your way through the crowd in the front of the bus and looked for a seat in the back. That’s where you caught sight of Taesan with his bag on the seat next to him and when your eyes met, he pulled his stuff into his lap. You hesitated for a moment but that was pretty much the only place left and it would have been more awkward if you didn’t take it. So you dropped the ignoring act, swung your bag to your front and sat down, drumming with your fingers on your knees. The bus departed from the stop and took a turn, the silence between the two of you becoming louder than the chatter around you.

You unzipped your bag and pulled out the banana milk bottles you just bought and held one out towards Taesan. The boy turned his head towards you, his dark eyes unsure and… was that blush on his cheeks? Your hands touched when he took the bottle from you, sending little tingles over your skin.

“Wanna listen?” He held out one of the earbuds of his wired earphone that he always seemed to have with him. So old-fashioned, so cool.

You felt shy as you looked him in the eye because it was like sharing something intimate. Still, you took the audio device and put it inside your right ear, smiling as the unfamiliar beats of a slower western song played. You pierced through the lid of the banana milk with your straw and hid your smile behind your drink when you saw Taesan do the same.

Maybe you were just warming up to each other after weeks of working together but it gave you the push you needed to ask about what you were listening to and it started a whole monologue about the kind of music Taesan liked and how his father introduced it to him. Honestly, he listened to a lot of bands you heard of but couldn’t really associate songs with and quite a few you hadn’t even heard about. You didn’t mind though, you liked listening to him talk about it, watching him gesture and slur his words when he got excited. It was a lovely side of him.

The bus ride never felt so short.

That one conversation and shared banana milk somehow led to daily song recommendations from the boy. He was always curious about your opinion even if you didn’t like it. Soon enough he could guess pretty accurately if you would like a song or not, so he even created a Spotify playlist just for you that he updated frequently. This turn of events was surely unexpected but not at all bad.

You also got to know that he would have liked to study sound engineering in university and you told him about your own ambitions and why it was so important for you to have near perfect grades and all those achievements. Belatedly you realized that you had never told anybody how much impact it had on you that you were constantly compared to your cousins.

It was a new side of Taesan you got to know, a side he didn’t show to just anybody and you realized it was the same with you. You hated showing weakness in front of others, yet it wasn’t too bad to admit to him that you tended to be judgemental with people because nobody had really been patient with you either before labeling you this or that.

But texting over the phone was one thing, you weren’t sure it would change anything in person. Sure, you had been seen together due to the interview project but that would be over soon. Not to mention you really didn’t want to deal with high school gossip in your last school year. And yet, you couldn’t help but look for Taesan whenever you were in the school canteen or near his clubroom. You caught yourself anticipating the radio announcements just to hear his voice. It was pathetic really, how fast you went from finding it annoying and purposefully ignoring him to waiting to see him.

Your heart did a little somersault when you actually saw him in the library one afternoon and only when you walked closer did you notice that he wasn’t just leaning over his papers but he was sleeping soundly, his pencil still in his hand, his textbook getting wrinkled under his weight. Briefly you wondered whether you should have looked for another place since Taesan must have chosen this corner table far in the back to have some peace but you would have liked to believe that he wouldn’t have minded you joining. After all, he waved to you casually like you were friends when you ran into each other on the corridors earlier that day.

Eventually, you pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and quietly put your study material down. You squinted at the books and printed papers around Taesan recognizing them as advanced Maths exercises on trigonometry. While you were trying to see if it was a sheet you had already done, something else caught your eyes instead. The light reflected on the silver bands around Taesan’s index and ring fingers down to the similar thin, metal bracelet he wore. You had never noticed that he wore accessories but you had never really paid attention to what he was wearing either (except his unmade tie). Or maybe due to the long sleeved uniform you couldn’t even notice it but now that he had his sleeves rolled up and arms outstretched, you couldn’t help but notice how long and elegant fingers he had, unfairly nice for a guy.

Taesan suddenly exhaled sharply which made you act on impulse. You leaned back in your chair and looked down at your randomly opened book just in case he woke up. However, his quiet sleeping noises soon returned to normal, so you deemed it safe to look up. You let out a relieved sigh when you saw his eyes still closed, his eyelashes casting a light shadow over his cheekbones. Dark strands of hair fell softly over his eyes and you weren’t sure what came over you but maybe all those silly romance dramas were right when they thought girls couldn’t stop themselves from brushing a boy’s fringe out of his eyes just once in their life. But just as you reached out, Taesan straightened his back and yawned like a cat, stretching his arms towards the sky. He blinked himself awake slowly but he froze the moment he noticed you right in front of him.

To make the situation less awkward for both of you, you smiled at him as casually as you could (which wasn’t much thanks to your racing heartbeat but still, you tried) and turned to your book, flipping to the correct page you wanted to review. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Taesan fix his clothes and sit up properly before arranging his rumpled papers to continue the Maths exercises. He must have been stuck on a problem though because he kept sighing and going back to the same page in the workbook. After his sixth or so frustrated sound, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are you stuck on? Maybe I can help,” you spoke up, closing your own book, so he would see your focus was on him.

“It’s fine,” he dismissed your offer so fast that you could tell he didn’t even think about it. You were sure because that was what you tended to do too: claiming you could handle everything on your own. But still, sometimes wasn’t it nice to receive help? Like how he had helped you with that box?

“Okay, then what about explaining it to me?” You changed your strategy because sometimes even that much could help: offering a listening ear. Maybe he could realize the mistake he was making in the equation while telling you about it.

You didn’t even think about it, you just stood up and walked to Taesan’s side of the table, sitting down next to him, leaning closer to see his scratchy handwriting and the calculations he had been doing. You might have blushed when you realized just how close you were but you refused to show it. You took studying seriously after all. So you looked the boy in the eye with a challenge in yours until he gave in.

Four minutes later he found the trigonometric identity he used incorrectly.

After sharing songs through texts and studying together at the library, the next thing that became a routine for the two of you was visiting the corner convenience store whenever you left the school together. When it first happened, Taesan claimed he needed to buy something too but he was looking around in the snack aisle suspiciously long (you missed your usual bus that day), so the next time you told him that you would catch up to him at the bus stop, he didn’t need to come with you. But more often than not, he went along with you anyways and ended up buying candies or chocolate bars. When you told Taesan about your go-to emotional support banana milk reminding you of your childhood, he told you that he wasn’t really into sweet things, so he bought all these snacks for his younger siblings. One time he bought a pack of four cream milk breads just for the freebie Pokémon toy that came with it because his little sister liked that character. It made you coo internally.

It wasn’t always just the two of you though. One day you were going over the English vocabulary with Jihan from your class in the library when Taesan and Jungwon walked in and took the desk next to you, eventually joining the English quiz. Another time Leehan needed to stay after school too because of his model student representative duties (a photoshoot for the Freshmen Open Day brochures apparently and suddenly you weren’t so sulky that you didn’t get the title) and he decided to tag along when he saw Taesan and you head over to the nearby CU.

“Ah, senior year is really hell. Everyone’s so busy we barely have time to hangout after school anymore,” he justified himself while throwing an arm around Taesan’s shoulder. “Jungwon told me you went to the library to study the other day. Since when do you do that? I thought you said being around so many people is distracting.”

You still heard Leehan’s voice as they disappeared into the snack aisle with the purpose of getting jellies and you walked forward to the refrigerated section, trying not to think too much into it. Maybe senior year changed Taesan’s mind, maybe he found the presence of others motivating now. Or maybe he just wanted to spend more time with you. The thought alone made you shy.

You were on schedule with the interviews and soon only the intro and outro as well as your own parts were missing. You wrote a script for the introduction and ending which Taesan improved with his experience of radio shows at school. You argued about whether your version with the ‘high school memories forever staying with you’ sentiment was too cringy or his ‘it’s only the beginning’ version was too vague but this time there was no harshness in your voice, there were no grudges held, it was only friendly banter as you went back and forth with arguments supporting your own ideas.

Eventually you managed to find a common ground, mentioning both the importance of keeping one’s high school memories as a reminder of their formative years and youth as well as being ready for what was coming. It was not even a question that it would be recorded by Taesan because he really had a nice voice and while you tried to stay professional and pay attention to his pronunciation and the flow of the speech rather than him, you failed miserably. Luckily, Taesan had enough radio experience to know exactly what to do. He introduced the segment with ease and charm, captivating the audience (you, for now) and you had to clear your throat to focus when he finished reading.

“We can start the interview with me,” you said, eager to get on with the tasks before Taesan could call you out on your behavior. He must have known your reason for the sudden change of attitude though because he smiled to himself, quiet but obvious about it, as he held the microphone out for you and hit record.

You knew all the questions by heart but still you waited for the boy to ask before you answered.

“When I was young, I wanted to have my own karaoke room. There was one on the basement floor in the building where I used to live and the owner auntie always gave me homemade honey biscuits. She seemed to be so joyful humming songs happily,” you said at the first question, glancing in Taesan’s direction briefly.

He must have been surprised – you were too –, because it wasn’t the model student-like answer everybody was expecting of you like saying your dream had always been to become a doctor or lawyer. Honestly, you had your own answers prepared and memorized ever since the questions for the student interviews were finalized and approved by your teachers. But looking back at it now, you felt embarrassed because even though it was just an interview, it wasn’t graded or judged, yet you had felt obligated to answer according to what other people would think of you. However, in the recent weeks as you got to know Taesan better, you realized that people would judge others without reason, without knowing them, even you. So you shouldn’t have changed your whole personality just so you would fit into this image they had of you. Even if it was about your parents’ or teachers’ expectation or your classmates calling you the teacher’s pet behind your back. You had been okay with the prejudices since high school was just one step in your foolproof plan to lead a successful life, you had been okay without building deep connections with other students because you had known that you would drift away after graduation anyways but only lately you realized that you could have had fun while also working hard. You could be yourself and let people closer. The world wasn’t going to crumble, it wouldn’t ruin your plans. You could be honest, both with yourself and others, because what was the worst thing that could happen? That they would judge you? They are doing it anyway, so it didn't matter.

“And now? Now I’m applying for business majors. I’ m not sure what exactly I would like to do with my life but I will get there. Who knows, maybe one day I will open a karaoke room, too,” you chuckled even though your ambitions were to build a bigger company, something creative and useful. You still had time to figure out the details.

In the beginning of the term you would have felt vulnerable sharing these about yourself in front of Taesan or the entire school because everybody expected you to know what you want to do with your life but now, it felt okay. You actually felt lighter, relieved. Especially because there was nothing akin to judging in Taesan’s eyes as he smiled at you from the other side of the table.

“Please tell us about your most memorable high school memory,” he recited the last question after you went over all the others.

Previously, you would have said it was being chosen as a class president because it was an honor and a proof of hard work but now, your academic achievements didn’t seem that important. What will you really remember when you will be older and think back on high school?

“Honestly, senior year so far has had some unexpected surprises, it’s hard to choose just one but maybe this one. Now,” you and me, just the two of us in the radio club room, being vulnerable yet not being judged. “I like the person I have been becoming ever since this senior interview project started and I think it's going to be a great memory one day.”

Silence embraced you as you finished talking, a bit nervous but without regrets. Taesan pressed a button and the recording stopped, ready to be saved.

“So karaoke room, huh?” He asked and you kicked his shin under the table for that teasing grin on his face.

“Your turn,” you reminded him as you passed the mic and adjusted the headphones around your ears. By then, over so many interviews you were sure Taesan knew what was coming too but just for the show you asked him about his dream job as a child versus now as well as his higher education plans.

“Becoming a musician was my childhood dream. My entire family loves music, many of us play an instrument, so it felt natural,” Taesan said and even though you didn’t know this, it wasn’t hard to imagine given his love for music and all that knowledge about genres and classics. “After I joined the radio club, I realized that I like it a lot despite the fact that here we don’t usually play music. So it would be cool to be a radio DJ on a music show one day but I’m interested in the technology behind it all, that’s why I will study sound engineering.”

You smiled to yourself because you had already known that latter part and it felt nice knowing you had come so far. After a few more answers, you got to the last question about his most memorable moment and Taesan’s feline eyes turned mischievous.

“Hm, a fierce girl yelling my head off during a live school radio radio–”

“Yah, be serious!” You interrupted him when you realized he was talking about what happened last year but your voice was more amused than scolding.

“I am serious,” Taesan claimed but there was a teasing tilt in his mouth. “It’s pretty memorable.”

“So you’re saying I was the only girl interrupting you during a broadcast? Shocking,” you raised a brow at him, a small part of you feeling triumphant about the fact that in a way you were special even if your first actual meeting didn’t have the best circumstances. Thank god that his microphone wasn’t on when you showed up and straight up started questioning him. “Also, just to clarify I wasn't yelling. I just expressed my bewilderment about why you were playing that audio.”

“That was the only one under your name.”

“What?” You blinked, confused at Taesan’s quick response. He sounded like he meant it but you knew that couldn’t have been true, they got access to your entire recording folder accidentally. So if he didn’t see that, it meant he wasn’t the one checking their emails.

“To make sure things are running smoothly, we always have a script about our broadcasts and all the audio files are organized in linear order in a folder for that day. I just played what was prepared for me,” he explained and gosh, you felt so stupid.

All this time you thought he had been the one who chose the wrong file on purpose maybe to help his friend, maybe to just have a good laugh but it made sense that his juniors were more likely the ones doing such preparatory work.

“But still, you could have stopped it instead of just letting it play,” you muttered, trying to justify your reaction.

“Well, at first I thought it was actually a pretty unique tactic and then…” Taesan scratched his nape and looked away, then shrugged as if he just convinced himself to tell you something that might be embarrassing. “To be honest, I just liked your singing.”

At his words you felt the tip of your ears burn and heat spreading all over your cheeks. You were glad that the lighting in the room hid it well.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking quietly because thinking back you weren’t exactly nice to him.

Taesan gave you a look. Okay, true, you didn’t really give him a chance to explain before antagonizing him. And then it must have been weird to just bring it up.

“Right. Um, sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed due to your too quick judgment but the boy just shook his head as if he had never been mad at the injustice in the first place. “About your answer though, you have to cut it out.” 

Obviously with 60 people answering 6 questions, not everything would make it into the final cut, it would be more of a montage of answers, a glimpse of the seniors’ lives and you didn’t want to be reminded of that incident in front of the entire school. Not again.

“Nope,” Taesan protested, popping the ‘p’ sound, teasing just to be difficult.

“I’m deleting it,” you warned him but you seriously miscalculated several things: there was no way you could have reached the computer before him and with him standing in front of the monitor and keyboard you didn’t see anything. You tried to get hold of the mouse at the same time as looking over the boy’s shoulder but he made sure that he was always in the way which somehow turned into a one sided (struggle) wrestle match and honestly at that point you weren’t even trying to achieve anything and both of you just laughed at your poor attempts.

“Am I interrupting something?” Spoke up a newcomer you didn’t even notice. Sullyoon, another radio club member from the year, stood by the door visibly surprised to see you or well the current situation you were in: Taesan leaning against the desk in front of the computer and you pretty much plastered over him, trying to reach something behind his back.

“No!” You objected vehemently and took two steps back, stumbling a bit. Taesan reached out to steady you by the forearm and only after he made sure you wouldn’t fall did he turn to the girl from his club.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just forgot my buju here,” Sullyoon got over her surprise too and quickly retrieved the prettily decorated journal from one of the shelves. You watched her go and then buried your face in your hands because of embarrassment.

“Emotional support banana milk?” Taesan prompted after he saved the files and turned the computer off.

You smiled at him and followed him out closely. If you were any better off, you would have teased him about his flushed face but instead you just made him race you to the convenience store, so both of you would have an excuse if anyone asked about your red cheeks.

Now that all interviews were done, only the editing was left from the project and while you could have left it all to Taesan since he did the actual editing, you were there keeping him company all through it. First of all, you listened to all the raw material and decided which answers to include from each interviewee in the final cut and then you could help out when he needed a second opinion on the order or cut parts or whether the transition was smooth or not. When he was deep in the concentration mode, you just did homework or studied for upcoming tests. It took three sessions to finish it (you had to force Taesan to get his ass out of school during the second one because he was determined to finish it which past you would have appreciated but not even this project was worth losing proper meal schedule or sleep over it) and when you listened to the final version you were proud of what you had done, together.

“Should we celebrate?” You suggested once the file was sent to the principal and his secretary. You finished it pretty much on schedule and yet, you weren't as relieved as you thought you would be when you had first started it. But still, it was an achievement and you liked to celebrate small wins like this because if you didn't, who else would?

You meant it as in going out to eat something good. For example, in the tent restaurant two streets down the auntie was selling the best tteokbokki you had ever tried. But Taesan had his own idea.

“What about karaoke?”

“Yah! Stop teasing!” You glared at him but you weren't actually mad, it started to turn into a private joke between the two of you.

“I’m not!” The boy insisted and all it took was his almost pout to convince you.

There were karaoke rooms on pretty much every other street in this neighborhood, so it wasn't hard to find one where you booked a room for an hour and bought snacks and drinks at the counter from the girl who looked like a bored university student.

You usually went to sing with a small group of girls from your class, so it was the first time that it was just you and a boy. And not just any boy but Han Taesan. Somehow it felt more special. Sure, he might have already heard you sing and said that he liked it, but you were shy, so you insisted that he would pick a song first. He chose Dean's 21 and totally nailed it, the karaoke machine's high score proving that you weren't just biased when you told him that. You had already liked his speaking voice but when he sang, oh boy! You could have listened to him for hours.

You went with a girl group song you were confident in and it was fun. Song after song you both hyped each other up and the one hour passed by quickly. A part of you wished you could just pay for one more and sing until your voice became hoarse but the rational part knew that you shouldn't have stayed out too late. You still had homework to do and Taesan needed to memorize those English words for tomorrow's test.

It was the same T side of you that went a bit ahead of you and started thinking about the midterms and then how busy you would get once summer ended and the last term rolled around. It was still months away and yet, you wondered if it took that much for you to drift apart or the end of this interview project would be enough. You were a bit scared to know the answer, just how you were scared to answer Jihan's question the other day when she saw you walk to class together with Taesan. Admitting out loud that you liked him would have made it real and it would have made you vulnerable. You weren't sure you were ready to do that but it was certain that you didn't want to lose him.

“Taesan…” You spoke up quietly, swinging your feet back and forth on the bench in the bus stop after you spent the walk from the karaoke room to the stop in silence, lost in thought. The boy turned his head towards you, his fringe getting into his eyes, messy and beautiful. Your heart ached with the certainty only first love could. “Now that the radio segment is ready, will we go back to how we were?” You asked barely in a whisper as if speaking louder would have had its consequences. That was also why you had to rush to clarify. “Because I don’t want that. I… I would miss you too much.”

You didn’t mean to say it like that and it was a scary thing to admit but it was worth all the extra beats of your heart to see Taesan smile, a shy little thing stretching slowly from one side to another, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight and street lamps’ glow.

“Me too,” he said and you reciprocated his smile. There was a short pause, an inhale of the universe waiting, then Taesan called your name and you looked up immediately.

“Hm?”

He looked you in the eyes with those dark oceans of his. Once you associated them with the cold depth of the sea but since then you realized that you were wrong. You knew only a few people who had warmer souls than this boy.

“You are my most memorable high school memory for a reason,” he whispered like it was a secret and a promise at the same time.

It left you speechless a moment too long and the bubble around you burst when the bus pulled up in front of you with a loud screeching sound. Taesan was quick on his feet but instead of getting on the bus right away, he looked back at you and held a hand out for you. You blamed it on not having time to think about it with the bus driver yelling at you impatiently and took it, following the boy onto the vehicle and to your usual place in the back with a smile on your face and a new rhythm in your heart.

Taesan didn't let go of your hand during the entire ride. As you closed your eyes and listened to the music he put on, you hoped he wouldn’t let go for a long time.

[staytinyville]

Towards the Light Masterlist (Kinktober 2024)

↣ Summary: You’ve lived eight different lives, all of which they couldn’t save you. Now they will do all they can to keep you alive and within their arms. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: Fallen Angel!Ateez x Reader

↣ Genre: Mature

↣ AU/Trope info: Fallen Angel!Au, Reincarnation!Au

↣ Word Count: N/A

↣ Warnings: Topics of suicide in one of the one-shots, mental illness, violence, marital abuse and violence, murder, smut (More warnings apply within each chapter)

↣ A/N: This was just one of the few stories I was inspired to write after my concert. It was one of the greatest things I got the chance of experiencing and I am so excited to see them again. I don’t know when but I am hoping to. Tell me what were your favorite parts of the concert!

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cultofdionysusnet , @cromernet , @monsterfvckersunited , @pirateeznet , @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

Was there really someone watching over you? Someone who would protect you from any harm? The idea that someone–something–would drop everything just to see you live another day, was beyond comprehensible. Was their love for you so powerful they would ruin their grace for you?

**

You could remember the time when things seemed to have changed within your soul. It had been when your family was slaughtered within your home by the invaders. Or could it have been when you had gotten sick and landed in the hospital? No, it must have been when you proverked those men to attack you. No–No–

There were so many things that led you to be confused when you truly felt like things were taking a turn. You weren’t too sure what was real and what was just a story you might have heard. You couldn’t even decide if you were a real person living in the modern day world. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that others still acknowledged you at one point or another. 

You didn’t live in a village. Didn’t live in Victorian era London. You for sure weren’t married. 

You lived on the 12th floor of a high rise building. You had a fridge that held all the food you would eat for the week. You had a fat cat that owlishly blinked at you from its perch on the window every time you came in frazzled from work. You had a plant in a pot that would sometimes smell from the water you had given it the day before. 

No–No. You lived in modern day times where genocide was a war crime. Where medicine was now able to contract a sickness you might have. Where women had more voice than ever before. 

Where looking over the side of a building caused for concern from your peers because suicide was not something to be taken lightly. 

It was modern day times, and yet you still always thought about the past. 

You weren’t a skeptic but you were a paranoid person for some reason. You felt like you were being watched for years–even going as far as seeking help for schizophrenia. But your paranoia never changed, however your feelings did. 

You grew used to looking behind your shoulder in hopes of catching whoever was looking at you. Feeling the shivers go down your spine as someone gets too close. But the moment you let your guard down, that was when the dreams started. 

One by one you saw them each in your dreams–each more different then the last. But still always watching you.

1960s - Jongho - October 1

1910s - Wooyoung - October 5

1880s - Mingi - October 9

1830s - San - October 13

1740s - Yeosang - October 17

1700s - Yunho - October 21

1690s - Seonghwa - October 25

1620s - Hongjoong - October 29

2024 - ATEEZ - October 31

Be sure to apply to my Masterlist on Google docs if you would like to be tagged in the series. I was going to set up a date and time for these but honestly since they are smut I might just be doing these for my kinktober! I'll actually be a part of it this year! I hope I am able to write the stories out soon though. Want to be caught up for October lol.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

NO WAY IN HELL ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: i return from the actual dead guys. live has been hectic as hell recently so im staying up late so i can get the part out to you!! its like 12am when im posting this so delusion is feeding me here

lia and riley crowd around you as you recount for the millionth time what happened at the rooftop party.

they've been at you all week asking what happened - it definitely didn't help when that stupid gossip account posted about it. so now you face the downfall of trying to be a decent human being.

clearly it worked out oh so well and everything is perfectly fine.

you've been drained all week working out a few details for your upcoming shows, going to the gym every day to stay in shape for said shows, dealing with lia and riley, the pile of emails and work related things you should probably answer but haven't gotten around to yet.

honestly all you want to do is curl up into bed and sleep.

a nap would be really good right now.

instead you're stuck here with lia pestering you about the whole rooftop ordeal.

"oh my gosh, we've been over this, as i said the last time you asked - which by the way was," you check your watch. "thirty minutes ago. i said hello, we stood there awkwardly for about six minutes i asked how his day was he said decent, he asked me how my day was, i said decent, i randomly blurted out that the stars were pretty and then proceeded to complain about the party, then said i was going home. end of goddamn fucking story."

riley just laughs at your frustration and lia grins sheepishly at you.

"im sorry, please let me stay here tonight."

shaking your head you get up off the couch to start making dinner. your phone starts blaring as you do and lia picks it up and launches it across the room. "its stacey." she says as you catch it.

"hey, stacey what's up?" you ask your assistant/ agent. she does a lot of shit for you honestly, its hard to keep up with what she does.

"i just got a call from someone on percy jackson's marketing team-" you drop the onion you were holding. "and they want to schedule a meeting with you sometime this week." the silence is loud.

"why?" you croak out

"they want to discuss the rumours going around." fucking finally you hiss internally.

"okay...."

"okay you'll do it? or okay you want to tell them where to shove their discussions?" stacey asks skeptically, having worked with you long enough to know your tones.

sighing you answer her, "okay i'll do it, but i want riley and lia there with me."

"of course," stacey replies likely jotting this down.

"and for the love of god not in a public space."

you hash out some more details and hang up turning to face to very eager eavesdroppers, "what do you want us for?" lia asks.

letting out another sigh, "guess who's meeting us this week?"

☾. ⋅

percyjackson

liked by underovergrover, chris.rodriguez, lukecastellan, the.annabethchase, lia.mandel, rileywest and 923, 872 others

percyjackson i won both games btw

view all comments

underovergrover only cause you cheated!

percyjackson don't be bitter because i won

underovergrover fucker

user1 these little bits of his life only make him more hot oml

user2 i so wanna know if y/n was there

user3 no cause real??? i wanna know if us percy/n shippers have a chance

user4 im in love with him holy

user5 Y/N'S FRIENDS LIKED THE POST AGAIN AHHHHHH

user6 oml i ship them so hard i need to know if they're dating

☾. ⋅

percy was pissed.

ok that's an understatement. he was- is livid.

he had only agreed to this stupid meeting because he managers had suggested to him it might be good to clear the air. what he wasn't expecting was y/n to agree, let alone agree with a list of fucking demands.

and not only did she come with demands she shows up thirty minutes late with her friends in tow.

what. the. fuck?

once she settles in her agent leans froward and addresses percy's team as if y/n is incapable to do so.

"hello there everyone, how are you all doing today?"

percy's manager reply's out of curtesy before getting right down to business. "ok, i'd like to start by introducing myself, y/n i'm lauren i'm percy's manager and i organised this meeting because of the rumours i'm sure you've heard all about."

y/n nods. "yes i've heard of them."

"good because my team and yours have come up with a few ways to deal with the rumours." she place's a her hands on the table and leans forward when she talks. "the first and most obvious is for both of you to post an announcement that you aren't dating, but are simply friends and or acquaintances." you both nod at that. "the second option is to address the rumours via getting into another relationship - but obviously since you're both single right now its a poor decision." she takes a deep breath and flicks her eyes over to y/n's managers. "and the third and mine and stacey's most favoured one is that you.... fake date."

the silence the follows is deafening.

percy practically leaps out of his chair. "what the hell?"

"no fucking way-" y/n says at the same time.

"you've got to be kidding me," you both say at he same time you eyes shooting up to meet, stacey's and lauren's hidden smiles don't help the situation either.

"obviously if you don't feel comfortable doing that we understand," stacey says calmly.

"but if you are okay with that we can move forward with that plan... if that's what you wish for."

percy glares at y/n as she gathers her stuff and mutters "no way in hell am i doing that," before storming off.

her friends... lia? and... riley? stand up after her hastily making apologies, "we'll go.. get her, i'm so sorry about that."

stacey obviously knowing that y/n isn't coming back starts to gather all her stuff. "so sorry about all that," she looks at me and then lauren. "we'll have an answer by the end of the week."

☾. ⋅

yn.official

liked by underovergrover, lia.mandel, rileywest, lukecastellan, maisiehpeters, gracieabrams and 1, 489, 326 others

yn.official life's been good 😊

view all comments

lia.mandel im so excited to for our dinner tmr night!!

user1 mother posted!!!

user2 percy's friends liking this is my roman empire

user3 ikr i need to know if they're dating

user4 ugh seeing y/n happy make me smile

rileywest coffee with you was fun!!

underovergrover new album maybe??

yn.official maybe 🤭

user5 GROVER COMMENTED??? AND Y/N RESPONDED???? THIS IS NOT A DRILL GUYS.

user6 HOLY FUCK!!!!

☾. ⋅

you pace the room, stacey watches you with lia and riley on the couch as the phone dials.

lauren picks up on the third ring. "hello this is lauren smyth speaking."

"hi lauren, its stacey here. i was just ringing about our answer to your offer," she makes one more glance at you before focusing back on the call. "our answer is...."

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you]

@lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle,

@lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus,

@avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, @user-3113s-blog, @officiallyalbino

@gloryhaddock, @kozumesphone, @moonlightwonderlan, @starxshining, @taintedrosee [if you want to be added just let me know!]

[snowyquokka]

ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴅ • ʏᴀɴɢ ᴊᴇᴏɴɢɪɴ

wc: 1.4k

mafia au jeongin x fem reader

cw: mature themes MDNI, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, mentions of possessiveness, angst, arguing, slight degradation, swearing, toxicity, implied ptsd

a.n- i’m actually really excited to write this series!! hope you guys like it too <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“You fucking did what?” Pissed. That’s the only word you can think of to describe your husband right now. He’s pissed because you went behind his back and met with the leader of another mafia to discuss some unfinished business that Jeongin had yet to fix.

“I was helping you! Without me, you and San would’ve never worked things out. You’re just too blinded by your ego to realize that.” As soon as your words register your hand flies to meet your mouth. Jeongin nods and bites the inside of his cheek as he analyzes your response. Usually when you argue there’s always a hint of something in your tone. Fear maybe? No, Jeongin thinks. Horror. You always seemed too shy to speak out but now there’s been a shift in your demeanor. A hint of resentment.

He really lets everything sink in and carefully calculates his next move. “Y/n, what have I told you about leaving here without permission, or even a guard? What if you got hurt?” you roll your eyes which throws Jeongin off a little. What has gotten into you? He’s trying not to become angry, but you are making it really fucking difficult. Deep breaths, Jeongin. You know the drill; she’ll rant and rave until she finally crawls right back into your arms. Every. Single. Time.

“Are you even paying attention?” Okay maybe it’s going to take a little more work this time.

“Yes, I’m listening, but you need to realize that you’re under my protection. And as a matter of fact, you follow my rules.” he states as calmly as possible.

You blink once. Twice. You can’t believe him. “You don’t fucking control me, Jeongin. I’m sick of hearing you commanding me like I’m some pet. It’s getting really fucking old.”

Jeongin clenches his jaw and flexes his fists. You know that if you were literally anyone else in the world, you’d be a mere blood splatter on the cream rug.

But you aren’t anyone else.

You’re Yang Y/n.

Jeongin’s wife.

The love of his life.

But right now- “You’re acting like a bitch, y/n.” he hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud until he saw the tears well up in your eyes. He could practically see your heart breaking in your chest, but honestly, he didn’t care. You needed to know your place.

“Fuck. You. I’m done.” you shake your head and remove your wedding ring before tossing it on the ground at Jeongin’s feet. You leave without listening to any of his protests. He seemed surprised that you acted out like that, and you even surprised yourself. You’d never been the type of person to engage in any sort of confrontation. You’d seen your parents do it enough to know that most of the time it doesn’t end well. Like right now.

Taking large deep breaths, you enter your car and just drive. The only sound that fills the car is your choked sobs as you turn his words over and over in your head.

You start to wonder where everything went wrong. Just two months ago you were happy. Right?

You start to recall the first time Jeongin had killed someone in front of you. The man had been eyeing you up all night while he was negotiating with your husband. One thing led to another and Jeongin shot the man point blank in the head with zero hesitation. That night you’d slept on the couch then woke up in the morning to Jeongin cooking for you and spewing out apologies and reassuring you that it wouldn’t happen again.

That turned out to be a lie. Not even a month later he shot a guard he had just hired because they were “staring at you like you were a piece of meat.” To you, that didn’t justify murdering a man in cold blood.

Jeongin, of course, waited until you were married to let the…darker side of him show. At first you thought nothing of it, blinded by love. Then gradually you started to become almost disgusted by the way he could hurt someone over something so little. It’s not like those men touched you or even talked to you.

You park in a random lot and pull out your phone.

innie <3 (15)

You immediately delete the voicemails he left and dialed your brother's number after coming to the conclusion that you wouldn’t be able to sleep in your car.

One ring.

Two.

Thr-

“Y/n?” Chan’s voice sounds groggy and hoarse as if he’d just woken up, it was around 2 in the morning. You tried your best to compose yourself. “Hey, Channie.” it comes out as a faint whisper. You hear rustling on the other end and a sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“I- Can I crash there for a bit?”

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

As you pull up to Chan’s house you mentally prepare yourself for the ‘You know better’ talk. Chan practically raised you and knows you better than anyone - with the exception of Jeongin.

No, no. Stop thinking about him, y/n. Just put on a smile and take deep breaths.

You don’t bother knocking, instead you just walk in. “Chris?” you call out. You almost speak again as you search for him but immediately change your mind when you notice your wedding ring sitting on the coffee table in the living room. Your heart drops to your feet and you can’t help but feel a twinge of betrayal. You spot someone out of the corner of your eye but choose to ignore them and turn to walk out of the door but are stopped by a gentle hand on your wrist. You don’t even need to open your eyes to know who it belongs to.

“Sunshine, please.” Sunshine. You haven’t heard you call him that in ages. Your heart melts a little but you dismiss the feeling and turn to face him when you notice your brother standing behind Jeongin.

“What happened to ‘your secrets safe with me’?” he flinches at your use of the words he promised over and over again starting from your early childhood.

“Just talk, Y/n.” Chan disappears into the hall, leaving you and Jeongin alone.

“Baby-“

“I can't take it anymore.” you whisper.

“Take what?”

“Feeling like I’m not good enough for you.” One crack in the dam you put up to stifle your emotions.

“Please don’t do that, love. I-I said things that I didn’t mean and I’m sorry I’m just-“ Jeongin takes a deep breath, “I’m afraid of losing you. I love you with all of my being, you are the most important thing to me. I can’t risk it.” Every feeling you’ve been pushing back floods you, overwhelming you. Unexpected tears stream onto your already reddened cheeks.

“If you really cared you wouldn’t have killed somebody right in front of me. Not once, but twice. Do you know how fucking difficult it is not to be fearful? You may be afraid of losing me, but I’m afraid of you. The man I married isn't there anymore. You changed, and it’s fucking terrifying.” you squeeze your eyes shut as two lifeless bodies flash through your mind.

Jeongin freezes. He fucked up; big time. He wraps his arms around your shoulders gently, silently asking for your approval.

You finally let go and sink into his arms.

You love him, that’s never been questioned. But you don’t love this life. Your body racks with sobs as Jeongin rubs soothing circles across your back. Your mind is so jumbled and fuzzy that you can’t focus on one topic. One second you’re thinking about you and Jeongin, the next you’re picturing Changbin ridding the white linoleum floor of a large pool of blood before it has a chance to stain.

If Jeongin wasn’t keeping you stable you’d most likely collapse on the floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he whispers.

But he knows.

He knows that he has a slim chance of winning you back. So for now, he’s going to savor your warmth and your sweet scent. He’s going to etch the feeling of his arms around you into every crevice of his heart and soul.

You’ve reached a dead end in your relationship and you aren’t sure if you want to turn around and find your way back to him.

[snugglyducklingbrewhouse]

we play with fire because we like the way it burns

a mob boss!Nico x nurse!fem!reader au

Movie night, ruined

Warnings: blood, Luke injured, mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, some swearing and calling someone a dumbass, this is a mob au. Please tell me if I missed something

A/n: it’s here! The first installment. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Word count: 1.2k

You were worried.

Luke Hughes was not known to be the most punctual, but he was never this late.

As far as you knew, this was his only plan for the night. So why hasn’t he called or texted?

It was just supposed to be a routine movie night. You, Luke, and a movie you’ve seen so many times. Tonight’s pick was Valentine’s Day since you saw New Year’s Eve around the new year, and it just made sense. To you two, anyway.

Luke was hours late. You were about to start getting ready for bed, tired of waiting on the couch. He could just apologize in the morning once you got sleep.

As you were collecting the snacks off the coffee table, there was a knock on your door.

Who was knocking on your door at this hour?

You quickly put the things in your hands back down so you could answer the door.

As Luke always insisted, you looked through the peephole. He hated that your building didn’t have a doorman, so he got you in the habit of checking the peephole.

You were not prepared to see Luke slung around the shoulders of Jack and another guy, barely able to stand up himself.

You swung the door open rapidly, ushering the three men to come inside before the neighbors started asking questions. God forbid Nancy saw anything and spread the news like wildfire.

Once you got a better look at the three, you realized Nico was the other man holding up Luke.

“What the fuck happened?!?” You practically shouted at them.

“Do you really want to know? Or do you just want to fix him?” Jack spoke up before his boss could say anything.

You rolled your eyes in a huff, but gestured to the couch. “Sit him up on the couch and make sure he doesn’t lose consciousness. Jack, get water from the kitchen. You, make sure Luke stays upright. He can’t fall asleep. Not yet.”

Jack had a nervous look on his face because you bossed around the most feared man in the city, but he rushed to get water despite not having gone that far into your apartment before.

“I’ll be right back,” you told Nico before rushing to get your primary first aid kit.

When you returned, you had to speak up and say the one thing you were dreading. “What happened and how did he get hurt?”

Nico was about to answer, but Jack spoke up from the kitchen instead. “Where the fuck are your cups and why are they this hard to find?”

Yet another eye roll from you. “Just grab a bottle from the fridge,” you yelled back.

“Dumbass,” you muttered under your breath. You loved Luke like a brother but that didn’t mean you felt the same way about his brother.

You turned back to Luke to assess the damage. Multiple cuts on his face and body. Luckily, no gunshots. You honestly weren’t sure you would be able to help if he had gotten shot.

Jack came back to the living room and set the bottle on the table and proceeded to stay out of your way while still looking out for his little brother. Their mother would kill him if she found out just how injured the baby Hughes was.

You grabbed the iodine and some cotton pads, mentally preparing to make your best friend endure more discomfort than he already was.

“Luke, I’m sorry that this is going to sting, but I need to clean your wounds,” you said gently.

Luke just grumbled, so you proceeded after telling Nico to make sure to hold Luke still.

“I’ll start with your arms and work my way to your face. Please don’t hate me for this,” you said gently, using your nurse voice reserved for telling people that something bad has happened.

Luke flinched a little once you started cleaning his wounds. It proceeded to get worse, and your patience also got progressively worse.

“Luke if you do not stop squirming, I swear to god I will duct tape you to a chair and tell your mother about your weekend in Atlantic City,” you said in a very angry tone, sick of Luke’s shit.

Nico looked slightly confused, while Luke and Jack both had looks of “oh shit” on their faces.

Jack proceeded to sit on Luke’s other side to make sure he stayed still.

“We do not need mom knowing about what happened,” Jack said as Luke nodded as best as he could.

You proceeded to finish disinfecting every wound on your best friend’s body and add antibiotic cream to each one, finishing the worse wounds with bandages and letting the smaller ones breathe.

“Luke, I’m gonna grab you one of your spare outfits for you to wear so you can sleep comfortably. Couch or guest room?” You asked him, honestly not knowing if he would make it to the guest room.

“Couch,” he mumbled.

You scurried off to grab some sweats and a shirt for Luke from his designated drawer in your room.

You tossed the clothes at Jack once you made it back to the living room, “make sure he gets into these. I’ll clean up.”

You proceeded to gather up the first said kit while Jack helped Luke change and Nico just sat, not knowing what to do.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” Nico finally spoke to you, and if you weren’t so concerned with Luke, you may have had more time to admire him.

“Uh. No. I think I’m good. I’ve dealt with worse messes,” you said, not stopping what you were doing.

You put all the supplies back and slipped into the kitchen to get yourself your own bottle of water, giving Jack time to get Luke dressed.

As you finally had a moment to breathe and think, you realized you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Luke hurt and not do anything about it.

After some time passed, Jack called out that Luke was successfully changed.

Walking back to the living room, you spoke up. “Call me immediately the next time he or someone else gets injured. I’ve seen enough questionable injuries at the hospital to know that I am your best option to avoid police questioning. Jack, you have my number. And please, for the love of all that is holy, stop doing dumb shit.”

You barely gave Jack time to respond before you spoke up again. “Now leave so Luke can rest. I’ll give you an update in the morning.”

Nico and Jack got up from their spots on your couch and proceeded to leave, you locking the door behind him.

You turned back to Luke and were worried about how the night was going to go.

“Can I have my blanket?” He asked weakly.

“Of course,” you said as you moved to grab it from its spot in your blanket basket.

You helped Luke lay down and get comfortable with the blanket tucked around him.

“Yell for me if you need anything, my door will be open,” you said before getting up to go back to your room. “Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, y/n,” Luke said with his eyes already closed.

You got ready for bed and were finally able to lay down and relax.

So why couldn’t you stop thinking about Nico?