#so glad i wasted so much money and time on you pieces of fucking shit

[bongsavior]

As Billy Woods once said, "FUCK WOULD I WANT WITH ANY OF THIS SHIT ??? DUMMY."

[jojissalsa]

husband!leon drabble

hear me out, cause i have an idea :3 (yes this is a drabble but also kinda long...)

cw: housewife kink, very slight condescension, praise, oral, breeding kink, ya get the gist. (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

i cannot get my mind off husband!leon, like... at all, i feel like he'd love to pamper you. you need your hair trimmed? when and where. going somewhere special? he'll immediately take you shopping. his favorite is when you wanna get your nails done, he'll just hand you that sleek black credit card. i mean, it's not like he doesn't have the money. he has to deal with the worst horrors this shitty world could conjure up, so all he wants at the end of the day is to see your pretty smile.

it's all he can think about at work. everyone notices how distracted he seems, constantly checking his phone for possible pictures or any kind of update. he's so glad he doesn't have much work to do that day, so he can be home before you. and when you finally unlock the door he has to stop himself from running to you like an excited dog happy to see his owner.

and you know he's excited, as much as he tries to hide it as you walk over to the couch where he's sitting, plopping down right next to him and nuzzling into his side. "you like 'em?" you hold out your hand, a smug smirk on your face as he takes your hand. "it's pretty.." he whispers in awe, a loving expression on your face. usually he's the type to wanna lay on your chest, having your nails graze his scalp so he can finally relax. he knows you love it too, like he's a big lap dog you can watch movies with.

he feels a lil different tonight though, maybe he's just pent up, but all he can think about is your pretty, delicate hand wrapped around his cock, your lipstick smeared around your mouth and making rings on the length of his cock. and you know he's thinking about something, because he moves his hand up yours before grabbing your wrist and pressing your palm against his cock.

"feel that? that's what you do to me, so damn sweet. you and that needy cunt is all i can think about. c'mere, wanna see those pretty hands jerk me off." you don't waste any time moving your head into his lap as he pulls down his sweats, your hands finding their place at the base of his cock and cupping his balls, your tongue already lapping at his tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum. he looks so fucking hot like this, legs spread, arm resting on the back of the couch while his hand moves down your back and under your leggings, determined to feel more of you. you're always such a good girl when you sink your mouth lower on his cock, tip hitting the back of your throat which makes his hips buck and his head tilt back as he groans.

"i got so lucky, pretty wife that knows how to suck dick. so eager for me to touch you, huh? need my fingers to fill up that tight pussy, don't you, honey? can't answer with a mouthful of cock, can you?" leon can never help himself, he has to be a little smug, because he landed such a hot piece of ass and he's more than confident about you belonging to him completely. how you stop everything you're doing to please him. how can he not pay back the favor? he pulls your leggings down to your thighs along with your panties, coating his fingers in your slick before slipping his fingers inside your welcoming pussy. you clench around his thick fingers when you feel the cold metal of his wedding band, and it only makes him smile wider.

like i said, he really does love to pamper you. make you feel pretty all the time, because you are. you may not think you are all the time, but he sure as shit does. pretty enough to carry his baby, too. "such a pretty girl, you'd look even more beautiful with my baby inside you." you whimper around his cock, pulling your head up to stroke him so you can catch your breath. "like that one, hmm? you always walk around looking like a fucking milf, so damn sexy with those tight jeans and cute heels i buy for you." you knew he was a family man, wanted at least two kids, but damn he did not have to make the idea sound that fucking hot.

and you let him, he could give you a whole bloodline and you'd do it with a smile. letting him fuck his huge load of cum into your tight cunt, those pretty nails digging into his back as your legs keep him pumping his cum inside you. "atta girl, can't wait to see that pregnancy test. gonna keep you here and take good care of you, promise." he lets you come back down to reality as he leans up, getting a good view of your blissed out smile, humming contently as you look up at him. "you won't have to lift a single finger with me around, trust me."

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

Final Fuck You to my Undergrad Uni

I personally think it's more like a monologue. But here it goes. A bit of a long piece of explicit writing about my 4 years at this shit hole. Glad to be done here ✌🏾. Grad pic beneath the cut

Tag list (normal poetry peeps and people I saw like the og post): @nanashi23 @winterandwords @vacantgodling @the-void-writes @weirdgirlcroix

Imma have to start this off with the fattest fuck you 

Fuck the campus 

Fuck the board of trustees 

Fuck the professors that should've been denied their doctorate degrees

And fuck you 

For thinking I'd respond kindly to all the times you've fucked me over

I wonder how many times I can curse 

Before you flag parental advisory 

To a campus full of fucking adults 

And those underage kids you drag in wasting potential 

On these hills that make me wanna eat ammo 

And chomp on gun barrels till my gums bleed 

And I get a few more cracks in my back teeth

I wonder how much money I've blown 

On liquor bottles that suck at deluding 

And beer cases that take their sweet fucking time 

In numbing my mental anguish 

Shits got those razor nails that can gouge 

And maybe I'd enjoy the sting 

If the bitch wasn't clawing out my eyes

Then stabbing straight through my stomach 

Twirling my intestines like spaghetti dinner 

With my blood gushing out onto the only carpeted floor in the fucking building 

Wouldn't be the first time this place tried to bleed a nigga dry. 

And my account's touched the negative for vending machine sodas and Monster energy drinks 

But at least they make damn good microphones

Cause I've gotten a little to used to putting on shows

Even if the alcohol, caffiene, and paranoid fuckery 

Warped my heartbeat

And it beats to the tune of decorating my fridge with knuckle imprints

Cause why the fuck would I spend money I don't have on a pretty decoration

And it even beats to climbing through windows for projects that root so deep the only thoughts I think are on the time that ticks by

And hunch a little more into myself as our equivalent of Walmart security roams the lit halls

And the clacking of their keys reminds me that I've imprisoned me

And sometimes my heartbeat matches my fists hitting my desk drawer 

Till the shit up top falls 

And the pencils are the only thing raining 

Cause I already spent all my money by just fucking living

And my heart tries not to beat through my chest 

When my family asking for funds that ain't ever exist

The fattest fuck you goes to 

This hell hole 

Where the flames are white hot with white people

Who love to toss shit into the flames 

And their alabaster babies 

Who ain't ever seen a black kid 

Say the world's most insensitive shit

And act suprised when their "ocean eyes" give reptilian beast instead

And I'd rather drown myself in the lab sink 

Chew on the bacteria loaded chunks along the way

Than pretend they're as gorgeous as this bitch ass campus.

I'd love to say thank you 

Hell I'd even say I'd love you 

It's a lie real easy to slip off the tongue as of late 

And maybe it's the brain damage of back to back all nighters

Or being dragged into unconsciousness on tables and radiators

Could even be the liquor that don't even taste the same 

And sometimes I still toss the cap and drink straight from the bottle

Drink that shit like the holy water I've never dared to bathe in

And I'm sure to keep my head back

Even if the shit tastes like failure and fear 

Then again when does a half assed attempt taste better than a solid victory

So I make sure I don't spill

And I'll beat it into the ground 

A STEM major is a wicked thing 

I lost two family members and couldn't even leave 

You suffer in every nook on campus just to come back home and asphyxiate in your at home lair

And I ain't one for wailing to fabrications 

In books translated beyond their original truths 

But God 

Thank fucking God 

I am done...

Wasn't so sure I'd live to see the end

And for that I'd drink again

And I'd find a use for all those middle fingers about to spawn

But for now I'll spare the vulgaruity

Cause my mouth real good at not being pretty

[writernopal]

🔮 Iluso 🌌

A little AASOAF AU piece inspired by this post that I just couldn't let go. Tagging @outpost51 bc I remember you being excited about this idea! Also please accept this as my sole contribution to this years OC Kiss Week because my body is in open rebellion against me 💙 Anyway, enjoy or don't! Do whatever you want!

WC: 1009 CW: drug use, sexual content Characters: Fay, Wilkes

a/n: The title is the Spanish word, iluso, which roughly translates to 'dreamer/idealist' in English, to mean someone who daydreams/is easily led/prone to fantasies.

Nights on the marina always tasted of salt. Sometimes fish. On occasion, smoke, and rarer still, like rum and weed. Those were never sweet—

Tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk.

—usually biting—

Tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk.

—even angry.

Tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk.

Running parallel to the shore was a walkway and down it came the figure whose sound had interrupted Wilkes’ musings. She pushed herself along, leaning one way, then the other on her longboard to weave between obstacles. Her hair flowed like bundles of seaweed behind her and her baggy t-shirt flapped about her to outline her lithe frame. She, Fay, looked the epitome of a black flag raised to signal nefarious intention. 

“Did you bring the good shit this time?” He called out when she was just feet away.

“Course I did.” She replied as she came to a stop and popped her board into her hand. “Always do.”

“Nah. Whatever you had last time fucked me up.”

“That’s cuz you’re a lightweight. C’mon.”

He chuckled as she tucked the board under her arm and led the way down the narrow docks toward his yacht. She launched into some whirlwind explanation of the ‘good stuff’ to occupy that short stretch of time. What strain she’d brought, where she’d sourced it from, how she was the first to try it, and how the grower dedicated it to her. He supposed that was interesting, but not as interesting as the sway of her hips or the bareness of her legs in those tiny shorts…

They boarded, and she wasted no time making herself comfortable. She abandoned her longboard some place, kicked off her shoes, and found a spot on the bow. He was glad of her ease. It made him, this shitty little boat, and his little money laundering scheme feel grander. Real, even. He joined her as she fished a neatly rolled joint from her pocket and pinched it between her lips with a frown. Much as he enjoyed that look, and watching her struggle to find a lighter, he was eager for other things tonight. 

He flipped open his brass lighter and ignited its small flame. She gave him a look as he shielded the little light and beckoned her forward. Instead, she caught the joint in her finger and thumb, pulled it from her mouth, and neared its end to the fire. He chuckled. Never easy with her. Eyes locked to his, she rotated it in the flame for a short while and once satisfied, brought it to her lips and took the first hit. 

He snapped the lighter closed as she let out that difficult sigh, followed by a small hazy plume, then passed the joint to him. He took it, tasting her on its end, then inhaled and sighed. A breeze washed over them. She shut her eyes. He watched her. And like this, several quiet minutes passed as the joint changed from his hand and lips to hers. Their bodies slowly melted from their seated position, eventually easing them both onto their backs. 

All becalmed, she turned to him and smiled. “What do you have for me, quartermaster?”

He chuckled. “Well, you see, captain, I heard of a mercenary ship sailing these waters which just exchanged her cargo for payment. It’s ripe for the taking.”

“Colors?” she whispered. 

His breath hitched. That rasp, those features…her eyes especially. Golden and so, so deep. He fell. Through time, through space, through planes of existence, and beyond.

“Green and gold of the Pale Kingdom…”

They took up the tale between their animated hands, weaving it with careful fingers against that night robed sky. Stars twinkled in and out of view as they imagined great billowing sails, the strain of lines, and the shouts of men. Surrounding them, the baritone concert of broadsides and kraken roars, and echoing a response, splintering wood and the demise of their enemies.

It was on this stage that they beheld their true forms. 

A captain ravaged by dark magic, and her faithful quartermaster once lauded as a hero of old… 

Their story was as sordid as it was beautiful. It told of great struggle, of pain, of fear, of loss, and on occasion, joy. Destined were they to reach for more and cursed were they to obtain it, for it would never be enough. To drop a hand to the bottom of the sea or to stretch into the furthest corners of the sky and feel nothing. Such was their burden, such was their sorrow. So they lay there, story told, and settled to reach for that which lay closer than anything else—each other. Hands intertwined, his ring glinted in the moonlight, outlining the words pressed into it. A lazy chuckle escaped her.

“‘Stuck Up’…I like that.”

He turned his head and pressed a kiss onto her temple. “I like you.”

“Why? Because I give you free weed?” She asked with a sleepy smile.

“No…because I like you.”

She frowned. “Stop saying things like that. You’re gonna confuse me…”

“What’s confusing about it?” He asked, pulling his hand from hers to trace a claw along her jaw, coaxing her ever closer. 

“Nothing…I guess.”

“Then tell me you like me too.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t.” She uttered as she bunched his shirt into her fists and softly touched her lips to his. “I hate you, you stupid pirate…”

One kiss, then another, and another, each one taking a piece of clothing with it and replacing its cover with their greedy palms and the nipping night air. Flesh and scales curved and dipped until her hips pressed down onto his, trapping the heat of their frustration in the space she’d vacated for him. There it smoldered, stoked by his furious eyes and her parted lips, devouring them both into its selfish jaws and claiming their bodies for its own. Spellbound, they concocted a wicked possessiveness borne from the illusion of free will.

“I like you…”

“I hate you…”

“I need you…”

“Then damned we’ll be.”

“Whatever, it’s you and me.”

[spectrophobias]

I wanna pick at your wonderful mind for a minute; have you got any headcanons regarding Kaitlyn (and your other Quarry muses if you'd like too! ) about the aftermath of Hackett's Quarry? Did Kaitlyn keep in touch with anyone, if so, who? How does she feel about that night?

OH YOU ARE SO LOVELY!!!!!! thank u so much for this omg

so to understand kaitlyn's feelings about that night i'll give you a little context about my hcs for her life in general!! her mom hasn't been in the picture for a while, so she mostly grew up with her dad, who she would describe as an absolute weirdo (affectionate). he's the one who taught her to shoot and general survival skills, he's sort of toeing the line towards being a prepper LMAO but definitely on the more sane side of things, more kooky than unhealthily obsessed if that makes sense ! so for her whole life he's been a big believer in being prepared to fend for yourself, self sufficiency, etc etc. she grew up in one of the bumfuck nowhere areas of upstate ny, lots of trees and animals, her dad bought some land and slapped a manufactured home on top of it type of deal. if you've ever driven around up here (or in any rural area tbh) u know exactly what i mean LMAO.

so needless to say, kaitlyn is SO PISSED to have him proven right!!! /lh. she loves him, their relationship is good, but god it sucks admitting your dad is right after years of telling him to Calm Down. she goes back to living with him while all of the legal aspects are ironed out, he's insanely proud of her for handling herself and defends her very vocally even before the potential charges are dropped. she doesn't really confide in him or anything but he's a strong support to lean on and it helps her to have a place to process and get her shit together.

she takes a gap year before she goes to college, maybe even two. she had been planning on taking one anyways just to work and tuck away a bit of money, she'd been working since she was old enough too but. u know. the cost of school is fucking insane. she kind of wants to go into fashion/costume design for media but she's a little terrified of failure actually. what if she wastes all that time and money and her degree ends up useless?? either way she has way bigger things than that to think about for the first couple years after the Incident.

she and jacob grew up in the same town, so they've always talked pretty regularly, or at least been in adjacent social groups. she keeps talking to him, she likes the familiarity of knowing someone for so long. a lot of her friendships are a little superficial, so she's not really used to still having childhood friends jgkdka so he's important to her. she talks to dylan too, which probably means she talks a little to ryan by extension, but mostly dylan. she definitely worries about him coping with the whole No Hand thing and doesn't want him to feel ditched so she makes it a point to keep in contact with him. she occasionally talks to abi and emma, but she's significantly less close to them, and she doesn't really talk to nick? i think she'd like laura a lot but they would have to actually talk and get to know each other first. ofc that's all dependant on them actually surviving the night gjskfj she is definitely worse off if anyone dies!!

as for how she feels about it all, it definitely takes her a bit of time to start feeling Mentally Stable again but she gets there!! at first she's just exhausted, overwhelmed, still can't really even make sense of what happened and everything they saw. she doesn't really have anyone to process it with outside of their little group of counselors, and she never wants to bother them. there's a decent amount of isolating herself and just trying to piece herself back together on her own. she's definitely proud of herself for surviving and for stepping up to try and protect her friends, she's glad to know that she would really react that way in a crisis, but she never wants to have to be strong in a moment like that again. she's definitely a bit less spontaneous and impulsive, more conscious of the situations she's putting herself in. once the legal stuff is worked out and she's able to get a full time job, the routine helps her a lot and she starts to slowly interact with people again. she's not entirely sure how to let new people in knowing that she can probably never talk about what she actually went through without being dubbed absolutely insane, so a lot of her friendships stay on that same superficial level as before, but the more time that passes between her and that event the easier it gets. i like to think she really does live her dream gjfkskd get involved in something theatrical, settle down with someone nice, just gets to actually relax finally!! god knows she deserves it😭😭

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 36

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 9 minutes

I look at Mark, confused as to why he stopped in the jewelry section, when we came here to buy a jacket instead. Cheap leather jackets are a pain in the ass exactly because of that, they get so easily wasted after a few days of wearing them, and then you have to end up buying  a new one anyway -it looks ugly as hell whenever the whole leatherette starts raising, and the fabric behind it is visible. 

I support half of my body on the crystal counter, looking at the several rings he's looking at. I didn't know he had a thing for them.

He suddenly stops at the engagement rings displayed on one side, and I instantly frown while I look down at them. As if everything made sense all of a sudden, I look up at him surprised, smiling mischievously, before I hit his side with my elbow. 

—No shit...

—Shit —he nods.

I can't help but jump slightly, hitting his arm again. And while I think that will be all, I end up hugging him tight. It's not like it's something unexpected, they've been together for a long time, but it feels great that they've reached that stability they wanted in life before taking such a step. 

—I'm so glad for you two —I pat his back—. So that's why you wanted me to come and help you pick a jacket?

—Soo is your sister, you might know what she'd prefer.

—She's your girlfriend, and you two live together. I bet you know what she wants more than me —I assure him. 

—So you aren't going to be of help... —Mark concludes. 

—Trust your own guts, and you'll be fine. 

Without saying anything else, Mark just lets his eyes go blank, turning back to the rings displayed on the counter. Not even a minute later, a middle-aged woman appears in front of him, placing the rebel hairs that escape her ponytail while she speaks. 

I don't know what they talk about, because I completely disconnect from the conversation without being aware. 

I move around the counter, checking out the bracelets and necklaces displayed, finding some of them a bit too much. Especially one that has a gemstone the size of a tangerine as a pendant. Who the fuck wears that without dislocating their necks?

I'm almost going to go back to Mark's side, until one of the necklaces gets my attention. It's placed in one of the upper corners of the counter, almost hidden from sight if you don't look at it carefully. The pendant is small, but has several details that make me raise my hand and compare it to one of my tattoos. The shape is pretty similar to the snake design Y/n loves so much. 

Aware of my attention, the other woman who was resting her back at the other side of the counter, also comes to me. 

—May I help you?

—How much is it? —I point to the necklace.

—Two ninety-nine —she informs me—. It's one of the newest pieces. Made with solid rich nine carat white gold.

As she gave all those details, she moved the necklace from the counter, placing it in four of her fingers to display it directly for me. Although I'd love to see Y/n wearing this, three hundred bucks is too much money. 

—And how much would it be if I only took the pendant? 

—Two hundred.

I twist my lips, trying to think whether that is a good deal or not. While I still think it's expensive, I can't control my voice saying that I take it with a cheering tone. I just know she'll love it as soon as she sees it, and the perfect way I can picture her smile going wider is the biggest motivation that leads to my impulses right now. 

—Is that for your girlfriend? —Mark starts teasing me, thinking I'll just play around. 

—Yes —I answer, eyes still fixed on the way the woman is packing the pendant in a small blue velvet box.

I play with his confusion and silence to my advantage, turning to him and changing the topic as fast as I'm able to. 

—Did you already pick a ring?

—Yep —he smiles proudly. 

He raises the red box to his face level, opening it carefully to show off the ring inside of it. Although, when I turn my eyes a bit to the left, I can tell Soo will love it just by the way he looks so excited about it. 

After that long break, we both are back at the studio. Although there isn't much to do -Mark made sure of it to be able to leave and buy the ring with no worries-, which leads to me focusing on designs and half-made drawings that I need to finish. 

I opened one of the cabinets, looking for the colored pencils to finalize one of the details on the future tattooed lion, although a silent jingle gets my attention faster than the white old tiny box. 

I don't remember when I left this chain here. To be honest, I thought Taehyung lost it one of the times he got something borrowed from me. But I guess I took it off one of the times I was bothered by the smallest accessory while working. 

I roll the chair over to the place where my denim jacket is hanging, taking out the box again to compare the color of the golden pendant with the silver tone of the steel chain. 

Now. Now the gift looks perfect. 

The rest of the day goes by pretty fast, until Tae and Jimin show up with weird smiles that promise anything but good things. There's no reason for them to behave like this, they just thought it'd be nice to meet up and go out for some drinks, although -as usual- it always ends up with Jimin daring me to drink more than him. 

And yep, it ends... in a way it's supposed to end when you drink way too much while pushing your limits. 

Unlike us, Tae takes the responsible role for tonight, only cheering for us -knowing damn well he'll be the one looking after us once we're done emptying the alcohol bottles here. 

—Should we play something? —Jimin suggests. 

—Play something? —Tae arches his eyebrows— The only thing you should be playing with right now is your bed. And Jungkook, too. You barely can't keep your head straight. 

Trying to show me, Taehyung pushed my arm, moving my palm suddenly and making my head go all the way to the front. I probably would've ended up hitting the table with it if his palm hadn't avoided it. 

Since when does my head weigh so much?

—Don't play the adult with us, you can't even keep a girl around longer than a week —Jimin teases him, dragging every word that comes out of his mouth. 

—You have a girlfriend, and look at you. It's taking you a sigh not to throw up all over the table right now —Tae replies back—. Besides, I don't keep a girl because I don't want to, not because I can't do it. Having a girlfriend is too complicated, look at him —he points at me. 

—What? —I raise my head— What about me?

—Nothing, Kook. You're doing great —Jimin pats my back. 

—I can keep a girl —I point at myself—. You're just jealous because you can't have a woman like my Y/n —I close my eyes, smiling big just by remembering her. 

My smile suddenly drops when both of them pretend to gag and throw up when I say that, making me stand up almost immediately to confront them. 

—Do you have any problems?

Both of them shake their heads and deny it at the same time, pushing my body back down again to make me sit on my chair. 

—Guys, it's not important if Tae can't keep a girl, or Jungkook is so clingy that's disgusting —both of us look at him, offended by his comment, but he still goes on:—, what's important is how strong our friendship is. We've known each other for a long while, and here we are still. I love you, guys, so much. 

—Then I'm the disgusting one... 

My comment is fast followed by a quick slap on the side of my neck, making me turn to Jimin to find him frowning, just to go back to smiling again. 

Two hours later, and just like his role was meant to, Tae calls a cab that will take us back home. I'm the last one to be dropped off at home, because my house is the furthest from the pub we went to tonight. 

It takes me forever to get to my couch, as if the sofa was kilometers away from the entrance door and the floor kept moving by itself from one place to the other, I'm unable to control the weight of my body, because it falls over it lazily. And I don't really want to move it. Until I remember Y/n asked me to tell her when I got home, so she'd be able to go to sleep knowing I'm not lost in the middle of New York by myself. 

I raise my arm, enough so the upper part of my body is caught by the camera, and I pose for her, sending her a flying kiss that I know she will most definitely love when she sees it. Not even checking the picture, I get ready to send it along with a text that lets her know I'm okay. 

Me: I'm home

Cocktease: Tell me you didn't drive

Me: I didnt. Tae called a cab

I can't go to sleep without hearing her voice though. Seeing that it takes her a while to type what she wants to say, I directly start a call. 

—Cocktease, I'm rensponsinble. Wait... Responsible —I'm not really sure if I had pronounced it right anyway, but I let it go. 

—You're so wasted —I hear her cackle.

—Could be —my head nods—. Remind me not to hang out with Jimin ever again —I mumble—. He's an awful influence.

—Says the good boy that has done nothing wrong in his life —she uses the teasing note I like so much. 

—I've done a lot of wrong things to you, and you've loved every single one of them —saying that phrase takes me more than it was first intended to, but I know it'll have the effect I want it to have—. Were you waiting for me? It's too late.

—Yeah, but I couldn't sleep either. It's alright —she sighs. 

—Go to sleep, babe —I encourage her—. You need to get some rest.

I hear her whine, and I know she's battling herself not to go to sleep right now. 

—Fine —she whispers—. We'll talk tomorrow.

—Yup —I nod up and down, marking the movement as if she were seeing me right now—. Sarangee.

My Korean is better the more alcohol I drink, that's for sure...

✸ ✸ ✸

After spending the day working in the studio, Tae comes around to get a snack before I leave to pick Y/n up. It's not a wild meeting. At least not like the one we had last night. We just meet up to eat something, and talk randomly about what we've done today, and how I managed to come to work, although my head didn't belong to my body at times -or, at least, that's what I wished throughout the shift. 

—Are you seeing Y/n today? —he mentions.

—Yeah, I should be picking her up in thirty minutes —I look at the time on my phone. 

—So, she's your girlfriend already?

—Something like that —I shrug. 

Tae doesn't need to say anything, it's enough with the way he's looking at me, tilting his eyebrow while waiting for me to explain it better. 

—We're exclusive, but we're testing the waters.

—Do you two really need to test the waters at this point? —he scoffs— It's okay, anyway. I'm glad you're taking things easy. You usually go from 0 to 100 quite fast.

—It's not that I don't want to —I admit—. But she needs time. And I respect that. I know what she feels, and that's the only thing that matters. 

—What about the necklace you told us about last night? Will you give it to her now? —he asks. 

—Yeah, she'll love it —I smile big, moving my hand over my leg—. Watch. 

But when I dig in the pocket of my jacket, there's nothing in there. I throw my head back, exasperated at myself when I remember that I took the box out, and it's probably still in the studio. 

I leave the bar, getting on my motorbike to drive back to the studio and pick the necklace before I pick her up. Checking it out, I make sure it looks good inside the box before I sneak it in the pocket again, driving to her workplace this time. 

Everything goes as usual though. I drive among the cars, to jump straight to the front of the traffic light, and it's even easier when I get to a street where there's barely any cars around. 

The calmness disappears fast, and then comes back again, and stays with me when everything goes black after I've felt my body being pushed abruptly. 

[charliecoxbf]

I got over a high school crush last week in the most backwards way possible.

So, i had a crush on this guy back in high school.

He... treated me poorly. Or, well, like shit. He was aware of my feelings and he took advantage of them. I won't go into details because it's... bad. Nothing badwrong happened (except for that one time he spit on me and called me pathetic in a mask off moment), but yeah. He's one of those toxic straight alpha guys.

Or he was, anyways. I don't know him now. Maybe he grew. He has a wife and a kid and a successful career and I kinda hate him for it because I'm single and unemployed and living in a shithole of an apartment, but that's neither here nor there.

My crush on him sort of... persisted through the years. I've wasted a lot of time daydreaming about him, fantasizing about running into him, and having a meetcute, and falling in love, and him finally loving me back.

(I have a thing with trying to earn the love and respect of emotionally unavailable men who treat me like shit, I got it from my dad. And I'm aware of it which means I don't have to do any work on it. Don't tell my therapist or she'll get on my ass about it).

Sometimes these fantasies were romantic (him leaving his wife for me), sometimes they were sordid (him keeping me as a dirty little secret), sometimes they were violent (me beating an apology out of him). Sometimes they were... self destructive.

I have this thing I do where, when things get hard, when I'm having a hard time, I imagine myself on the wrong end if situations.

In middle school I was having a hard time being bullied, and not having any friends, so I spent the bigger part of the year imagining myself in Logan Marshall Green's shoes on that one scene from The OC where he gets shot. (You know, the notorious hmm watcha say scene).

In high school, I was struggling with the rapidly developing symptoms of my schizophrenia, my un-reciprocrated (is that a word?) love for a toxic straight boy, family drama, and so much more - and as a result I spent a long time fantasizing about meeting my demise like Robert Downey Jr. in Less Than Zero. (A movie about drugs to which I was introduced by my then best friend, and isn't it interesting that around the time I was falling into alcoholism I was fantasizing about a drug-related death?)

Now I'm having having a hard time. I can't seem to find a job, money is unbearably tight, I'm stuck in a dead end town with no way out, I see no hope for a future. So you can guess what my coping mechanism is.

The piece of media I've latched on now is a gifset by tumblr user captain-hen (linking, not tagging, because they don't need to see my self destructive toxic emotional mess) of Eddie being shot by a sniper in front of Buck (and the aftermath).

The moment I saw the gifset (and the video) my brain filled the blanks with "damn, wish that were me". This is not healthy at all, but as they say, it do be like that sometimes.

So I've been playing with the fantasy of getting shot in the shoulder and losing a lot of blood. I also recently fell back into my high school crush. But it felt different this time.

Then yesterday I was fantasizing about us in Eddie and Buck's shoes, thinking "hell yeah, if i got shot in front of him that would be hella traumatic and he would have to apologize to me and love me back", when something clicked.

My brain just went "wait a second. He treated you like shit. He doesn't deserve to have your blood splatter his face. You deserve to get shot in front of someone better."

Which. What the fuck is up with that. But also, I'm glad I'm over this crush, even if it came in the form of "you deserve to get shot in front of someone better".

Baby steps, as my therapist would say.

[wack-ashimself]

I talk a lot. I know. But I am warning you this is not only probably my longest post ever, at least on here, but it's super hating teachers, so if you're really into teachers or have a loved one that's a teacher, I am definitely going to fucking piss you off.

Vindication! I got the best validation in so fucking long. Probably years. Talking with my boss about how I hate svsu; biggest waste of time and money in my life. I always say I learned more 3 years stuggling in la than any year at svsu. She said went to svsu, but stppped going because the nursing program was awful. I asked her in which ways. She said nearly every fucking teacher bragged about failing a good chunk of the class every semester. She said another class she failed and had to retake, she saw almost half of her same class was there, again. And even another teacher bragged that only a third would pass. Cuz they give high level courses to freshman (she told me something and I didn't know wtf she said, it was that layered). What are we teaching them? Why are we shaming them into not knowing enough? Because this is intro to nursing. And they were throwing some heavy fucking shit at her.

So thank you svsu. You wasted somebody else's life, and just proved me right you piece of shit college, and one of the only big regrets in my entire fucking life. Never once in my entire career life has my degree helped me ever. Not a single goddamn time. I used to brag it got me an interview once, but I never got that fucking job. #svsu you money grabbing whores, fuck off forever. Honestly? The only thing teachers offer any more is either Hands-On experience, or personal experience. It sure isn't fucking true and ADAPTING knowledge anymore!

Fine I'm going to say it. I don't respect majority of teachers*. I only remember a few of my life that taught me anything of value, most were bullies, and they're all glorified babysitters. Even the fucking College ones. Why? Because you're forcing young naive kids to pay you for dated information so they will be mindless workers. So in other words you're just watching them get stupider. Like a babysitter watching the kids watching tv. Look into the how the educational system was founded. He wanted cogs in his factory machines; never free thinkers.

*off the top of my head I only can remember 3 great (not just good) teachers i personally had. Ironically? 2 of them were in college... NEITHER AT GD SVSU!

1-My 5th grade teacher, mr reynolds. I was bullied cuz I'm loud and opinionated. He stuck up to my whole class for bullying me. He was a kind old man with a cane. I saw him a few years ago, outside work. He was a frail old man now. So I didn't know if he would remember me. But I told him "hey I don't know if you remember me, but I had you in 5th grade, and you saved me from a lot of bullies. I just want to thank you, and I never forgot that." And I don't know if he was faking it or what, but he swore he remembered me, and it melted my heart. I was so glad I got to thank him. It really made my entire month to just see him and thank him.

2- My Philosophy teacher at delta (I will not remember anybody's name from here on out that was good. I wasn't around them for a long enough duration). He really opened me up to debate with logic, critical thought, and different philosophical Concepts I had never considered. I will have to admit it was the highest grade I ever got in college, I think I was even top of the class, so that definitely was an ego stroke too. But I did not know that till the end of the semester so I can say that much to my credit LOL

3- my world culture studies teacher at delta. He was a mean gruff old man. But he was fair and extremely honest. I got one of my worst grades in college from him. Either a B minus or c plus. I honestly want to say C plus. And I worked my ass off. But he literally opened me up to everything that was going on in the world because he explored it. He made me appreciate more than just my own country. And all of humanity. I mean don't get me wrong, I loved Humanity before, but now I understood it a little bit better, so it was easier to love...

But yeah nearly every other teacher from grade school and high school especially and college that i had, go fuck yourself. You did nothing but take time. To be fair I think there was a psychology teacher I had in high school that was pretty cool too. Can't remember her fucking name. She was a hard ass too, but fair. And smart! I never said this, but I once considered taking psychology because of her. You ever meet a teacher that you're like you could be teaching so many better places? She was one of them. I think that's what I respect most in teachers. They want to teach something real, valuable, meaningful, they're honest, and they don't take bullshit. Oh and miss gonzalez! She was my theater teacher at delta. She gave me a real confidence that I didn't have before in other areas that I didn't usually act in.

Okay so maybe it's like five teachers. I'm only remembering them as I'm spouting them off. I could tell you the worst, but I don't want to tarnish somebody's Legacy cuz they're probably dead.

Except for Mr mindy at western. He totally touched young underage girls all the fucking time; I personally saw it. When I got that 10-year how do you remember High School thing, I specifically said Mr Mindy was a perverted should be fired. No joke, not soon after he retired. And Mr Everson got fired. Mindy had a closed door office in his room, with blinders. Mr Everson had open windows in his office, along main hallway. He was way easier to fucking catch. Mindy was just so well liked, so it was ignored. That should have been my first sign that Epstein's Island was definitely going to be a fucking thing in the future.

But if you leave this post with anything, know you can self teach easily nearly anything through the internet now. Of course you got to use harsh critical analysis, thinking and logic to prevail from being fooled there, too....but no massive student debts for a meaningless degree... that's being fooled even more: debt for life and it doesn't even get you a fucking good paying job? Great Ponzi scheme. The best!

< know the number one reason I hate teachers? They never fight curriculum. They just teach it blindly. I mean we taught #CommonCore and that's one of the stupidest fucking things I've ever seen in my life. You added more steps to math? Why? That's just stupid. That's like doubling the ingredients to a cake when you only wanted one fucking cake.>

[spacecadetzeris]

I didn't realize setting the boundary "If you hit your kids, I will leave you." Is weaponizing your ex's kids against him...

Fuck I was his girlfriend. I had no real say or power over his kids. I'm so glad his new ex girlfriend told the world about his abuse and mentioned that I was the actual victim there.

Trigger warning. S/A and threats of violence

He always used his kids as tools and wouldn't properly discipline them. Constantly screaming at them and used to smack them on the face before I put my foot down. It wasn't until 2+ years he was in a position to have his kids full time (thanks to my coaching and encouragement)

This pos we're talking about - refused to work 16 months, especially after I got super sick and in need of surgery. Had to audacity to say he would find temp work when I was recovering so he's have someone home for the kids.

Claimed he wanted to smack me after I blew up at him at a grocery store over him throwing a fit about the price of groceries. (I told him to shut the fuck up, he wasn't pay for it and if he felt that way about prices maybe he should get off his ass and get a job instead of making his sick girlfriend work so much over time)

He forced me down and pulled down my pants one morning after the kids left with their mom and tried to have sex with me, after 20 minutes of me ignoring, giving him a dirty look and asking him "really?" When he rubbed up against me trying to get me to entertain him. He kept insisting that he was teasing and pestoring before he got on me. He immediately stopped when I screamed "what the fuck is wrong with you" and fought back.

"You could have said no"

I replied "You could have told me that you wanted sex"

He had a girl bestie who he definitely had a crush on. (He made a fallout character look like her with the hair colour she said she wanted)

He would bring her up all the time in random conversations in the last couple months. He wanted to get a three bedroom. One for her, her daughter, his kids and us in the living room again.

He begged me for a movie night to pause the movie and fuck off to buy her cigarettes, knowing I am up at 4am in the morning.

On my birthday I slept in and woke up to him missing for an hour, I asked him where he was.. at her place.

Our fight in February 2023 was when he gave her bread because she and her mother was to lazy to get some (they buy weed and cigarettes but have no money for food for her daughter what the fuck) I gave him money to replace the bread given and he choose not to. Made chicken burger for dinner 2 nights later and made me run a second trip to the store that day for bread.

Made fun of self harmers knowing I'm an ex cutter and have no tolerance for those kinds of jokes.

He was just a super manipulative piece of shit. I'm doing so much better without him but gods... I wasted so much time, energy and resources trying to make it work that the damage it has caused me as a person... it's not worth it.

I don't want to even bother getting to know people anymore.

I'm so glad to escape and that she saw the truth and spoke it. I wish her the best.

[sweetheart-satoru]

lego set

he's glad he can live his childhood through your hobbies

author's note: i rewrote everything cuz this sucks 😋 also reader is around the same age as denji so we are in fact no hi*eno #2

denji wished he met you earlier.

he wasted his first kiss on himeno, who not only made his first kiss experience terrible but also vomited in his mouth to make it worse. whenever he thinks back to that moment, his mouth goes dry and he thinks he might cry.

he thinks he might die of humiliation when remembering her vomit's chunky, gross taste. "bleugh!" he groans to himself, and aki turns to look at him confused. "what's wrong?" aki was in the middle of discussing something with someone that denji didn't bother to learn their name.

"nothing, i'm gonna go get water!" he excuses himself and power jumps on his back, "ooh! ooh! let me come! ponytail boy is boring." she sticks her tongue out, which aki ignores. "no, you're both in trouble. power, you need to stay. denji, hurry up." he replies, which makes power frown. "see, boring." but she just walks away and sits in a chair.

denji leaves the room, quickly shutting the door and holding his stomach. he feels like he might throw up. as he walks up to a water fountain, he bumps into a girl holding a bunch of papers in her arms.

"oh, sorry. wasn't watching where i was going." you say, bending down to pick them up. denji can barely form a word, and he thinks you're one of the prettiest people he's ever seen.

"oh- uh," he's not good with words so he just shuts up, bends down and helps you pick it up. "sorry, i also wasn't watching where i was going." he blurts out, scratching his head.

you just chuckle and reassure him that it's fine.

that's how you two first met.

over time, you and denji (and power), have gotten much closer. he comes over to hang out during the weekends or when you're back from school.

today, you're just chilling in your room watching an old show while you finished a new lego piece that you saved enough money to buy. (why the fuck is lego so expensive bro i just wanna build)

power got in trouble again so she is not here as denji knocks on your door. "coming!" you call, pausing your show and putting down whatever part from the lego you had in your hands down.

when you open the door you smile widely when you see a certain blond-haired boy in front of you. "oh, hey denji. wanna come in?" you ask, opening the door slightly more for him to enter. "yeah.. thank you.." he says, looking a bit flustered.

and over time he learned to be more neat and clean when coming over. he never listened to aki when he told him to put his shoes away nicely, so when he first stepped foot into your house and saw all the shoes neatly lined up, he couldn't help but want to please you and do the same.

you lead him to your room, which every time he steps into, he feels nervous. he fidgets with his fingers, not paying attention to where he is going and almost falls down.

"holy shit!" you cuss, trying to muffle your laughter. "are you okay, denji?" you help him back up on his feet, and you watch his face get red. "yeah.. i'm okay." he yells at himself to get his shit together in his head.

holy shit i just embarrassed myself like crazy!! he imagines power laughing in his face.

"here," you let him sit in the chair where your lego was near, "i'll get you ice." quickly, you rush downstairs and come back with and ice pack. when you hand it to him he mumbles a quiet, "thanks." and puts the ice on his little injury.

he turns the chair around to face the table in front of it, "hm? what's this?" he points to the lego. you tilt your head, "that's my new lego set! i jus' bought it!" you exclaim joyfully.

"woahh.." he looks at it closer, "what does that mean?" he asks, confused. "hm? have you never had lego before?" you ask him, "well i mean, i was basically homeless my entire life, and was on the verge of death like every other day trying to make money.. so, yeah.. never had one before." he shrugs, as if what he said literally wasn't crazy.

you cough awkwardly, "oh.." he just nods, still paying attention to the lego set, trying to understand what it is, "well, want me to show you?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

"yeah!" he exclaims, "okay, stand up," you shoo him out of your chair, "see this?" you show him the instruction book, "you need to follow what they're saying. so this page is where i'm on right now, you basically need to look for the pieces the page is telling you, and put them where the picture in the page has them. like this, see?" you show him.

he nods slowly, "can i try the next page?" he asks quietly, looking up at you. grinning down at him, you get up, "sure. here, try it."

author's note: bye i hated how i wrote the first one so here's this :,) but i still have the other version saved even though it's literal dog shit

[ivymonkshood]

Sweet Bakery Girl ❤

Pt. 2 :D

°Takemichi, Hanma, Kokonoi, Sanzu, Ran, Rindou, Shinichiro, Terano°

— Takemichi

Can't control the blush growing on his cheeks when you stop his walk to school only to give him a cute box filled with cute little cookies.

Daydreams all day with that

He's a simp

Takemicchi is choking on anything you prepare for him

No matter if they burnt a little..

"N-no, it's fine! They are good, I'm eating all of t-them"

He's sharing with all the Touman members

He loves just sitting at your shop, watching you work so peacefully

BadFuture! Takemichi shows at your shop all the time, you don't even hear the bell ringing but you are glad to see him ❤

Present! Takemichi brings Naoto with him, to distract him from work

When you start spotting Touman members and classmates you get so happy... "He talks about me~"

Loves any type of edible cookie dough, you don't sell it at your shop so he feels really special 'cause you make it only for him ✨

—Hanma

He's annoying, like a lot.

Don't get me wrong, he helps with heavy stuff, doing the shop errands for you, he even helps in the kitchen cause he understands quickly

But he loves having his hands on you all the time

Enjoys making a mess on the kitchen, the wet dough in every corner and let's not mention the two of you, coated in flour and cocoa powder

You two are a mess in the kitchen together

Hanma compliments everything you make, he loves how your hair smells like vanilla extract and the tip of your fingers are sweet because of the sugar powder.

Shuji starts waking up more early just to catch you in your uniform every morning.

Morning sex

Dead honest with you, a little bit agressive but you know that's how he is

"Fuck, did you burnt these, sugarplum? Goddamn" While he takes another bite of the burnt cookie.

Kisaki notices how his coffee bread tastes differently these days and it's because Hanma no longer buys where he usually does

He thinks that not supporting you is like cheating

I see him liking "interactive" desserts with those thin chocolate globes that you melt with hot liquids.

He gets so excited when he sees how the whole piece goes down

Does annoying and dumb cake jokes

—Kokonoi

Oh yeah.

He puts the prices on every dessert or pastry you make

Like, you had already done that but he insisted that those prices were too cheap for something so cautiously handmade.

He sees a lot of potential, he won't tolerate watching it go to waste!

Koko has that boyfriend material, sitting on a table with his laptop infront of him, the thick paste glasses on the low bridge of his nose and quietly slurping from his warm latte while working on his illegal shit.

Koko knows where to get the best products, how to get the best prices, he can pay the whole price but why the fuck would he?

He knows your personal like the palm of his hand, nobody is making you trip

Koko doesn't have that much time to be around you as much as he would like but he's happy when he spots you baking at home.

Kokonoi has some expensive taste, his favorite pastry are the Eclairs.

Loves them even more when they have mini berries on top as decoration, he´s a visual man

Also, You need money for something? You can perfectly make money but he´s already taking his black card out so~

Probably gets Inupi as your sales model

—Sanzu

A dick.

Sanzu is very curious, like a cat

He wanna know everything you´re putting on the bowl

Jokes? Asking you if he can add somethin funny to it

“Haru please, leave the kitchen-”

He does quick errands, when Mikey knows you need help he goes himself or sends your drug dealer boyfriend 

Mikey is friendly with you ´cause you send him free Daiyaki

Coming home and sitting in the kitchen counter with the sweet, warm scent of the recently baked desserts is his new favorite way of stress relief

Roast the fuck out of you when something burns.

“I can´t even get high in peace, I have to keep an eye on your messy ass Babe” “You didn´t burnt the whole building, per chance?”

He appears at your shop late, all bloody but a grin ear to ear, happy cause he finally made some time to see you 

Haru makes sure all the Boten members are shoping from your bakery

He´s not a fan of desserts so his favorite item at your shop may be bread.

Sour dough, Baguette, Croissants, Brioche, dinner rolls, every type of bread you can make

But I also see him liking those chewy energy boost snacks, has nothing to do with bakery but :D

Agressive customers should watch out with this one, he´s not playing around 

He might not seem supportive but he loves you and tells everybody about your job whenever he has time

��Ran

When he goes to the Bakery he waits in line just to flirt with you like he doesn´t even know you

“So.. What you doing after your shift, Sweetheart?” “There´s people waiting behind you, Ran.”

He´s proud of what you do

When there´s no flour or other ingredient Ran makes sure he's the one paying the restock

He may be late as fuck for work but he´s enjoying his morning coffee with you

Moves things in your schedule so you have time for him c:

He grows a little interest in baking, buys books and a bunch of baking things for the house

Even if he doesn´t have the time to bake anything

Knows when to be honest and when to lie 

Like he sees the prominent bags under your eyes, handing a plate with some weird looking muffins to his direction and he decides it's better to put some filter on what he had planned to say

“This is what you been doing all night? Don´t you wanna have some rest? I can fill the bathtub for you, Love” While he pulls the plastic wraps from the muffin to bite it, doing his best to keep his emotions in.

Ran loves Macaroons

There´s something in the long and labored process that amazes him, watching how you turn the ingredients in some delicious art without a recipe

Ran keeps his Baton in your Bakery

When some random clients raises their voice at you he goes “Sweetie, bring me my Baton, somebody has to shove some manners in that head”

—Rindou 

Rindou enjoys baking with you, more than he loves eating your creations

And it´s not because he doesn´t like them, quite the contrary

He just had to cut his consuming ´cause he noticed he was gaining weight-

Sanzu told him, get his ass-

He hates and loves your job

You make him try the new recipes and he can´t say no to you

Rindou snacks after his workouts, like a reward for his hard work

You catched him crying while eating a cookie once.

Boten stress does that, Guys

You constantly have to assure him that you can make more healthy things if he wants to

Comfort sex???

He visits your Bakery constantly, salutes the personal, asks if you need help with anything, he´s the sweetest

He was so happy while telling Ran about your job

His eyes sparking like stars 

Rindou loves Danishes, he loves that you always call him to make them beside him, he loves the fresh fruit on top of it and the calmness that the pastry gives

Hates annoying customers, they may not be doing anything really annoying but asking too many things to a already busy worker and that worker is his girlfriend he might snap a fist at their face

He knows a lot about decorations, he helps you with that too

Gets mad at you for staring at him while eating but you can not help but to do exactly that

“No pics, Baby!” “But cant see how cute you look with the crumbs on your cheeks~”

—Shinichiro

He went to the bakery with Wakasa and Benkei one time to show you off and they thought he was joking, of course

“Stop harassing the poor girl, she tryna work”

Bitch proud of how professional your business is

He´s so awkward about it, he tells everybody-

He takes Izana, Mikey and Emma to your bakery too, only to get roasted again when he called you Love-

“Damn, getting comfortable with the waiter? How embarrasing!”

He just hopes you don´t think he´s a loser too

And you don´t 

Shinichiro is there to help you with everything you need

Another simp

He´s eating all you hand him

He knows how owning a business is like, he always waits at home with the bathtub filled for the both of you

That shit with Kazutora didn´t happened ´cause he stays at your shop pass 7 pm, keeping you company

He says your kisses taste like condense milk and powdered sugar

Probably calls your butt “buns” 💀

He likes those bouncy Japanese Pancakes

He brought them because they looked cute but everybody at home loved them and it became his favorite pastry

He´s a pleaser :c

—Minami

People that calls him Minami intead of South > > >

Daydreams with leaving the gang stuff to work with you :cc

“And we could put a piano on a corner and I could play it all day for the customers..”

He owns grandma recipes, purr

There´s a lot of cute Brazilian desserts and he knows how to make most of them

And he teaches you

He´s not a patient man but when he´s teaching you he´s like a kindergarden teacher

Puts his hands on top of yours from behind when does it, whispering instrucctions with so much calmness and love in your ear

“You should roll it like this, no rushing, always calm”

Doesn´t like to see any member from his gang in or near your Bakery, the world is pretty big, go get lost somewhere else

He shows up at your bakery when the clock hits 8 then throws you on his shoulders ´cause you should be at home

Ask you if you can name a pastry after Dino

Minami loves everything you make but when he saw that Brigadeiro cake he was so surprised, he teached you that!

He´s honest with you if you mess things up, wants you to know how to fix them for that to never happen again

It makes him mad to see things go to waste

“Yeah, that´s how you do it Baby, you´re not going to forget it next time?”

[starlightxsvt]

3 dates | c.sc

pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader

genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.

word count ➳ 12.4k+ (i have NO idea how this became so long so strap in for a ride)

warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, self doubt, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)

synopsis ➳ after one fateful encounter with him you cannot get him out of your head. so you opt to do some crazy things to catch his attention and even snag a few dates with him. only trouble is he isn't the type to stay after the whole disposition is over.

Swirling the third drink in your hand you heave yet another depressed sigh. You are so tired that you feel like you can just slump on the counter and pass out. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to stop for a drink, you alcohol riddled brain thinks.

The plans you had with Katelyn was cancelled last moment; she called to tell you that her thesis submission date was moved forward and so she couldn't hang out with you tonight. You're in the middle of an existential crisis quite literally, the too many part time jobs yet still lack of money and copious amounts of study getting to you. Staring hard at your drink you contemplate if it is worth giving up on college and your dream of becoming an arts major. It sure feels tempting right now, the long hours at the diner and not enough sleep at night proving to be the worst nuisance.

Sighing you put down your drink. It's still early, you should go home and try to catch up on the much needed sleep. You really had no intention of grabbing a drink tonight; you have morning classes tomorrow but you made a last moment decision to stop for a drink on your way back home. You didn't take your usual route to home today, and while trudging through the streets tiredly you came across this bar called Seventeen's. You've heard stories about this place, how it is the home to local gangs and how it's bad people's turf and what not. Your curiosity, probably too much of that made you get inside for a drink even though all the bones in your body ached. The inside is what you expected, nowhere near fancy but dingy, just decent enough. The people inside didn't look friendly and if the chains and tattoos on them gave any indication you'd say the rumours are true; this is the turf of gangs. The drinks taste decent, not the best but not the worst and from the overall look of this place you don't really have a reason to come back.

You're about to stand up from your stool when a large, clammy hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere, making you jump. "Hey sexy, sit down. Let me buy you a drink," the owner of the hand, a large, tattooed middle aged man slurs making your nose scrunch out of disgust. You're wearing nothing that can be called sexy; a plain cardigan and jeans and the way he looks you up and down makes you want to poke his eyes out.

You really shouldn't have come here. Clenching your jaw, you meet his eyes, "What makes you think I'm interested to have a drink with you?"

"Oh come on, why would you be here then, lookin' all nice? Just sit down," the man drawls, an ugly smile on his face. He still hasn't let go of your wrist and it's making you impatient. Looks like you're gonna have to kick his balls tonight. Maybe the self defense classes didn't completely go to waste.

"Get your disgusting hands off me while I'm being nice, sleazeball," you hiss at him, trying to get his hand off. The man stands up growling, "What did you say you bitch?" You're preparing to break his nose when out of nowhere a punch lands on his face that sends him tumbling to the ground. The attacker gets on top of him and twists his arm and you can literally hear a bone snap.

Shit.

"I think she said she is not interested," the man hisses, landing yet another another hit on his face before kicking his groin and getting up. When he turns around and his eyes meet yours, your heart skips a few beats and you almost The man is drop dead gorgeous, someone you would not expect to see here but probably on the cover of a high end magazine. His blond hair is long, crossing the nape of his neck as well as some covering his forehead. What takes your breath away the most is his eyes, the most beautiful pair you've ever seen. They seem to have their own galaxies in them, so deep and mesmerising and decorated with lashes long enough to make you jealous. His dress up, black jacket and jeans, immediately tells you what he is; a gang member.

"You should get home, lady," He speaks in a no nonsense tone, his face cold as ice. But you're offended. "Excuse me? Who are you calling lady? You make it sound like I'm old." You puff your cheeks and cross your arms, trying to appear intimidating. "Besides I had the situation under control, you didn't need to butt in." The man keeps looking at you with that no nonsense look, his features displaying annoyance if you are right and he's clearly not intimidated. The dude on the floor grunts and makes an effort to get up, only to be kicked by your saviour once more. "Hey Mingyu, get him out of here. What was this piece of trash doing here anyway?" The man orders to someone before turning to look at you, "Do you live far?"

"Uh- no, a ten minutes walk from here maybe," you reply unsurely, surprised at his question. The blond haired man nods before grabbing your wrist, "I'll walk you home. Hurry up, lady." You have a feeling he's purposely calling you that and though you start following him out of the bar, you make grunts of protest.

"Oh yeah, why? Trying to find out my address? So you can come later and hurt me like that guy?" You would not be this brazen if it wasn't for the alcohol in your system, after all the man next you isn't a friendly one if the rumours are true. The man raises a brow at you, "Did you do something that requires me to beat you up?" You hiccup at his serious tone. Does he not get a joke? He lets go of your hand now that you're at a safe distance from the bar but still stays close enough to you as your steps are rather stumbling and messy. You aren't fully drunk but your body is tired and feels like will shut down any second.

You really need some sleep.

"You know I'm not that drunk. You don't have to walk me home." You complain. "I'm walking you home because this isn't a nice place you should be alone at night. What happened earlier could happen again." He says not looking at you. "Mhmm," you keep on trudging behind him, "Thank you so much for your kind gesture, sir." You mock him but he doesn't reply, staring straight ahead, completely ignoring you as he walks quietly. In silence you two walk the rest of the path, before finally stopping as your apartment comes into view. At this point it feels like your bones will break and you will plop down on the concrete any second, but you manage to keep standing. "Well, thanks for walking me home." You shift your weight from one foot to another. "And for helping me back there." He shrugs coolly, a bored expression on his face. He's turning to walk away when you call, "Hey- I didn't get your name."

"What do you need it for?" He side glances at you. You shrug, "I don't know. You helped me so I thought it'd be nice to know your name." "You don't need to. Go inside, lady." He says, his tone final and starts marching away. You wait a couple moments before yelling, "Asshole!" and quickly rushing inside your building, partly afraid he's gonna come back.

You won't be surprised if you get killed tonight.

-

"So you are telling me Choi Seungcheol walked you home?" Katelyn screams in your ear, jolting up from her seat, earning glares from other people at the library in the process. "That's his name?" You whisper-yell, grabbing her hand to pull her back down. "I'm guessing from the blond hair you said," Katelyn shrugs. "Uh huh." You mean back in your chair, "He was hot though."

"Is that seriously all you have to say?" Katelyn whines exasperatedly. "No, I mean, if it wasn't for the way he dresses or talks I would have thought he's a model or something." You murmur.

"Are you sure he didn't hurt you?" Katelyn questions. "Hell no!" You frown. "He saved me from that creepy old dude. I was surprised too. I wish I didn't drink so much, I could have gotten a better look at his face," you sigh. "Seriously?" Katelyn raises a brow at you.

"Girl, you should have seen him. His aura and the way he carried himself was...so hot." You grin to yourself. Katelyn watches you like you've grown two heads. "Are you trying to tell me you have a crush on that gangster?" You smile sheepishly, "Maybe, I mean it's harmless. He was broody yet charming and I'm a girl so.... Also, it's not like he likes me too and is gonna come running whenever I ask him to bang me." You mutter.

"Oh he's gonna break your bones and bang your skull against a wall. That's what he's gonna do."

"Come on! Maybe he isn't so bad. Maybe the rumours are just rumours. Maybe he just looks intimidating and dresses up like that and people thinks he's a gangster." "Really? His name is on every bad thing that happens around here. From illegal racing to murders. Do you know that people say he has killed too?" "Like I said, rumours," you shrug being your stubborn self. Katelyn holds her hands up in surrender, "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm glad you're alive so let's just put this behind us, shall we?" You don't reply but wiggle your brows at her, a conspirational look on your face. "Oh no, don't look at me like that," Katelyn warns. "Let's go to that bar tonight. Please?" You give her your best puppy eyes. "What are you? Fucking crazy? You wanna get killed?" She whisper-yells, scowling at you. "No. I just wanna take another look at him. Without the alcohol in my system you know. Besides, the place isn't that bad." You reply.

"Well then get killed by yourself. I'm not coming with you."

"I'll help you with your papers for the rest of the semester."

"Shit."

-

"Well, looks like your wish won't be coming true," Katelyn muses chugging down her fourth glass as you keep playing with your first one. It's nearing an hour since you've come to the bar and there has been no sign of the man you desperately seek. The place is exactly like it was the other day, filled with people who you wouldn't want to mess with.

Yet here you are.

"Let's call it a night," Katelyn sighs. "We're just wasting our time." You know that too but you don't want to leave; not just yet. You are well aware that this is just pathetic but you've this crazy urge to see that man once again. You don't know why you feel this way; you never felt like this before. Why are thinking yourself to death about a complete stranger? Has some kind of spell been casted on you?

"Yeah, let's get going," you murmur half heartedly. You help your friend stand up as she's a little wobbly on her feet and together you make your way through the door. "Should we call a cab?" You ask Katelyn. She shakes her head no and you nod, you arms wrapped around hers to support her in case she looses her balance. You start stepping away from the bar and towards the road to her place until a noise from behind makes you stop in your tracks.

"Did you hear that?" You ask, whipping your head behind. There's no one around and the street is mostly dark other than the light flashing from the name of the bar. You hear the sound once again and this time you can locate where it's coming from. There's an abandoned playground at the back of the bar and you've a feeling that's the source.

Katelyn hisses as she sees you step towards there. "What are you doing!"

"Didn't you hear that?"

"Yes I did. That's why I say we leave!" You ignore her and cautiously keep on stepping forward, mentally cursing yourself for wearing heels. Katelyn follows behind you murmuring all kinds of warnings. "You know curiosity killed the cat, right?" She whispers.

You roll your eyes, "Well I'm not a cat. Just- be quiet. It can be nothing." You both move past the bar gingerly and towards the playground at the back. There are old gallons of oil and abandoned materials just around the corner and you two quickly hide among them. It takes you a while to get adjusted to the low light after you poke your head up from the hiding spot.

You're eyes fix on him immediately. His blond hair makes him easily recognisable amid the darkness. There is a few more people around him, all kicking something in the ground. Not something, but someone. The man lying on the ground groans in pain and you realize this is what you both heard. "Shit," You hear Katelyn curse from beside you. "We need to get going." Instead of replying, you keep your eyes trained on the scene unfolding, holding your breath. You're tranced. Seungcheol lands continuous punched on the guy laying below him and after a moment his writhing frame seems to stop moving as it falls limp.

Fuck.

"You know in movies this is the part where people get caught." Katelyn whispers, her voice hoarse and her hand clutching yours in a tugging motion. "Uh-huh. But I can't seem to move. I wonder if he's... really dead." You whisper back. "Are you fucking crazy!" She hisses. "You wanna witness murder?"

Before you can reply you hear a sound that echoes through the empty field and it takes a second for you two to realise that it came from any one of you two. You don't have the time to figure out who made it as you both are crawling away from the playground without looking back, head crouched low to avoid being seen. You don't know if they heard that or if they're coming behind you, you both just keep scrambling, moving until you're past the corner. As soon as possible you both get on your feet and run like the grim reaper is chasing you, stopping only when you are far enough from the bar.

"I am never listening to you again!" Katelyn yells.

-

It's been a good few days since your near death experience and you somehow find yourself in front of that bar once again. You and Katelyn have not brought up that incident after that night. You made yourself believe that it was over and came to a conclusion that it is better to forget that man and leave all of it behind, no matter how much your heart disagreed. But it's easier said than done; you may not mention him out loud but in the back of your mind you think of him. He's like a ghost, haunting you all the time, plagueing your thoughts when you go to bed at night. It felt like he was ever existent and there was an itch in your heart that drove you insane.

Maybe that's why your subconscious brought you here, in front of Seventeen's, once again. You were on your way back home from library and you thought you took your usual route, until you realized you were standing in front of that place. But what is even terrifying is that the man haunting your mind stands in front of the entrance of the bar and you blink a few times to make sure you are not hallucinating. He's leaned against the entrance door, cigarette between his lips and from his pocket he fetches a lighter to light the poison in his mouth.

Damn, lighting up a cigarette never looked this sexy.

He hasn't seen you yet and you contemplate running the other way. That's the sensible thing to do but you, not being a sensible person, start walking towards him. Your footsteps make him look up and notice you and like the last time, there is no expression on his face. It's the same bored yet handsome face except now in daylight you can take a better look at him and this time, you notice a little mole on the left of his face, by his nose. Realising he's gonna stay silent you decide to speak, "Hi... It's me... Do you remember me?" Wow. That's such an intelligent thing to ask.

With the monotoned yet serious expression on his face, he goes, "Why won't I? I don't have Alzheimer's."

So he can joke.

You laugh, an awkward, probably exaggerated laugh. "What are you doing here? Did you not learn your lesson last time?" He cuts to the chase, his voice brassy and deep, almost threatening. You want to roll your eyes. "Who are you to say? I can be wherever I want whenever I want, thank you very much." "Well then, have fun getting in trouble like last time." He's nonchalant as he blows a smoke right past you and stands up straight, turning away. "Wait!" You almost grab his hand, desperate to stop him.

What is wrong with you? Your subconscious slaps her forehead. What are you holding him back for? To say 'hello sir, I think you're hot, can you please put your dick inside me'? Seungcheol turns his head back, his eyebrow cocked up.

Why do you find everything about him so attractive?

"Um...I know your name, Seungcheol." You speak, trying to sound intimidating, like knowing his name gives you some power over him. There's something definitely wrong with you which is why you don't want him to leave just yet and which is why you're stalling time. But it seems to have done the job as he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and turns towards you, an annoyed look on his face. "How do you know that?" The timbre of his tone is deep and it rakes shivers down your spine. "Well, you've built quite a reputation for yourself so it isn't hard to get your name." You shrug coolly. "Well, if you know so much about my reputation, you should know what I'm capable of." His lone is low, almost threating as he starts to take slow steps towards you making you step back out of reflex.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe you will also end up like the curious cat.

"Oh yes, I know. People have got a lot to say about you," you try to sound unfazed, not meeting his eyes that you feel are burning holes on your face. "What are you doing here, lady?" he asks slowly, pausing between each word and glaring at you as he continues to step forward. You can feel his patience thinning.

"I swear to God if you call me that-"

"What are you doing here?" This time his tone is scary, too scary. It makes you lose the ability to speak for a second as his dark gaze bores into you. He has backed you up against the wall behind you and you swallow. Right, what are you doing here? It probably has something to do with a very hot individual and his insanely attractive aura. Scratch that you are a hundred percent sure it has something to do with the blond haired, enticing man in front of you. He's driving you mad and you need to get your fill of him.

"Go out with me," you state and you are sure you've never spoken words more stupid than that. Internally, you cringe and pray that the ground below you would open and take you straight to the fiery pits.

This is the first time you see some sort of expression come across his face; surprise. He looks utterly shocked and somewhat confused. His mouth opens just a little and he squints at you, "What?"

There's no going back now.

"Go out with me. Let's go on three dates." you say once more, looking him in the eye. He seems to appear even more surprised, a dumbstruck look sitting on his face. He observes you quietly for a while and you can feel the gears in his head shifting. You wonder what he's gonna say next. Or maybe he won't say anything but bang your head on the wall and leave you to die alone. "I'm sorry I'm not following," he looks genuinely perplexed. "I want to go on three dates with you. They say after three dates you can figure out whether you like that person or not and I think I like you so..."

I think I like you.

The biggest understatement of the year.

Seungcheol tilts his head, an amused expression on his face as he studies you, those sharp eyes of his settling on yours, "What is your deal, sweetheart?" He crosses his arms, a brow raised. Sweetheart? That's new. And definitely better than lady. You can't deny how hearing him call you that makes your insides melt. "Nothing. I just want to date you," you shrug, trying to keep your wits together. His proximity is driving you wild; you can sniff a faint smell of cologne and cigarette, him being inches away from you. This time he laughs loudly, a mocking laugh you'd say. "Who sent you?"

Oh my god.

You roll your eyes. "Nobody sent me! Do I look like I'm a gang member or something?" "Then I don't see a reason why you'd want to date me," He states, throwing a challenging look at you.

"What if I said I have a thing for bad boys?"

He snorts. "You don't look the type to date bad boys," he mocks. "Who are you to say that?" You cross your arms. "I want to date you because I think you're hot, okay?" You can not believe you just said that. Looks like you don't have control over your mouth anymore. Warmth spreads throughout your face like a forest fire.

Seungcheol narrows his eyes on you, his tongue poking his cheek as he stands in front of you as if trying to read your mind. After a beat he sighs before looking at you, his eyes becoming darker than usual and his gaze unforgiving. "Hey. Does it look like I'm playing house here? Do you have any idea about the shit I do? The dirty work I do? I don't care if you have a fucking fetish or whatever but this is the last time I'm warning you. I don't want to see you around again. If I see you here once more, you're in fucking trouble," he spits and starts stomping away. His tone is serious and you know very well he is not joking, which is why you use your last resort. You're embarrassed at yourself for being so desperate but at the same time you feel shameless. It has almost turned into a game at this point, you want to make him surrender. That's right, you want him to give in. "You shouldn't be like that with me. I saw you, a few days ago. That night, when you and your friends were beating up that guy...in the playground," you casually stroll to come stand right behind him.

You can't believe you are blackmailing a gangster. Your death must be near.

Seungcheol whips his head back, his eyes glaring at you and you can almost see fire in them. Finally, you got his attention.

"My friend also saw it, we both did. You killed him, didn't you? Me and my friend witnessed a murder. What do you say? Should we go to the station?" You can see his jaw clench and you can't hold back a victorious smirk. Moments pass by as your words hang in the air and the tension between you gets thicker. Yet once more he surprises you, breaking the silence with a chuckle, "Well I killed one person, what makes you think I can't take care of another?"

You swallow.

"Well, my friend already knows so if I go missing you can be sure that the cops will come to you first." You throw back at him.

When did you get so wreckless?

Seungcheol stares at you for a few more seconds before shrugging and moving his hand dismissively, "Well then go tell the cops. I don't give a shit." He starts walking back to the bar leaving you starstruck. He stops and turns towards you before opening the door, "Also, I meant it. I hope I don't see you around. Otherwise I may just have to hurt that pretty face."

-

You don't show up after that.

Mostly because you are embarasssed.

It's been a good while after your last encounter with Seungcheol and you didn't go to the police, obviously. Because you don't have evidence and from what you've heard Seungcheol is pretty influential around here and you don't need to go to an extent to get on his bad side. You're definitely gonna end up dead if you do so, which you don't want just yet.

Classes have just finished and you and Katelyn step out of the classroom together, walking through the hallways and into the main campus. She rambles on about some bad sushi she ate yesterday while your mind remains preoccupied. Maybe you need to get laid. Maybe that'll make you forget about Seungcheol. You just need good dick that's probably why you were so desperate for him.

That's just a stupid lie.

You don't realise Katelyn is calling you until she shakes you by the shoulder and you snap back into reality. You notice her face is as pale as a ghost and following her line of sight your eyes stop on him.

Him. Seungcheol.

What?

You double take, blinking furiously to confirm your vision. He's standing there, in the parking area of your uni, leaned against a convertible Ferrari, a cigarette between his lips. He looks relaxed, like he does this regularly. Students whisper in each others ear while gawking at him curiously. "What did you do!" Katelyn yells. "Nothing!" You hiss back.

"Then why is he here!"

"I don't know!"

Your eyes meet with Seungcheol's and a smirk spreads across his face making you shiver. He stands up straight and tilts his head, an indication for you to come closer to him. "Fuck, he's here for me," you mumble. "Of course he's here for you, dumbass," Katelyn snaps. "Well, if I don't return, you know who killed me." You sigh starting to walk towards him. "Wait- you're going with him?" She asks incredulously.

"Don't worry. I'll keep my phone on. I don't think he's gonna murder me, I mean there are so many witnesses." You inhale deeply, leaving behind a lost looking Katelyn.

Seungcheol says nothing as you stand right in front of him raising an inquisitive brow but he only holds open the door for you to get in. Deciding to follow him you enter the car quietly and a wave of gasps go through the crowd.

There's gonna be talk about this tomorrow.

Seungcheol, still smirking victoriously for some reason rounds the car and gets inside and within seconds you're hitting the road. There's a thick silence for a while, which feels like ages to you. You're overwhelmed, bewildered to say anything; your poor brain still processing what is happening. You're nervous, jittery as you fiddle with you bag and look out on your side, for some reason scared to look at him.

What if he really kills you? He wouldn't, right?

"You're awfully quiet," Seungcheol says matter of factly as he spares you a glance while driving.

"I'm... processing."

"What are you, a robot?"

"Why are you doing this?" You question instead.

"Doing what?"

"Okay, you know very well what I mean. Why are you picking me up from uni all of a sudden? How do you even know I'm a student there?" "I have resources and...you didn't protest at all. You came along nicely," Seungcheol raised a brow at you, a cocky smile on his lips. You don't answer but continue to stare at him, trying to pin him down with your gaze. He finally sighs and pulls the car to a stop by the side of the road, the sudden brake making you slightly jerk in your seat. "I've decided to give you those 3 dates. That's why," He is calm, unreadable and you wonder if this is a prank. Then again, he has no reason to prank you, does he? "Really?" Your voice comes out breathy. "Yes. I thought I'd give you a taste of how it feels to be with someone like me. I can scare people without physically hurting them you know," He says in a menacing tone.

"So what? You're taking me to an underground fight or something?" You question. "Nah, we're keeping it simple today." He smirks as he starts the car again and turns on the radio, an indication that he doesn't want to converse anymore.

Shamelessly you take a good look at Seungcheol; he's dressed in another jacket today paired with a black tee underneath. Today, you notice he has upped his accessory game, his fingers full of rings and chains dangling from his neck. But what catches your attention is a tattoo, something like a dragon and words written in a language you don't understand, peeking from underneath his sleeve. You almost ask about it but decide it'll probably be too much and he wouldn't answer you anyway.

As you do so, in the back of your mind you think you should have dressed better, something cuter, more appropriate for a date rather than a plain blouse and jeans. But then again who knew Choi Seungcheol was gonna show up out of the blue. You're gnawing at your lower lip, lost in your thoughts when the car is pulled to a halt and you realize your ride is over. You're parked in front of a diner called Lacy's and from the vibe that the place is giving, you can tell that this is place where people like him hang out. You raise a questioning brow at Seungcheol who says, "I know it doesn't look fancy but trust me I has some of the best food I've ever eaten." Taking his words for now you quickly type out a text to Katelyn letting her know you're in one piece and get out of the car.

Once you're seated you look around the place which is relatively empty except some men playing pool at the far end. You watch Seungcheol who has gone to the reception booth to place your orders; his posture relaxed as he leans against the counter and talks to the girl standing there. They seem to know each other because their chat takes longer than it should and the girl has a shy, almost flirty smile on her face.

He probably fucks her.

You shake the thought off your head as the gangster comes back and sits in front of you. There's silence for a second as you wonder if you should just ask the questions that run free around your mind. "Are the rumours true?" You blurt out. He's raises a brow.

"About you. You know..."

"Do you want them to be true?" He asks back. "I don't...know," you reply. "Well, I think it depends on each person. If you want it to be true it is true, if you don't it isn't," he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "Why don't you just give me a straight answer?" you snap. He smirks as if he's having fun but doesn't reply, watching you with his arms crossed. You roll your your eyes, blowing out an exasperated breath. "You know, I haven't seen one like you. Willingly hanging out with dangerous people, going to dangerous places. You say you saw me kill someone yet you're here. You're almost desperate to get in trouble," he observes. "I'm not desperate to get in trouble. I just...I'm just- attracted to you alright?" This is so embarrassing. You need to shut your mouth. "You've been on my mind ever since that night. I wanna see exactly how deep I'm into you." You bite your lip.

That's enough. You will boost his ego through the roof like this.

Seungcheol studies you for a bit before grinning cockily, "Well, if you didn't know, I am trouble baby. Just you being with me might end you up in a mess." Before you can reply, your food is served, that same girl from the booth setting down your plates and looking at Seungcheol for a bit too long with that same stupid smile which he returns. You don't know why but you feel jealous, jealous of whatever these two share, whatever she has with him.

You've lost your mind at this point. You're on a high that is Seungcheol. He has made you forget your morals, made you completely lose your mind. Or maybe you've been too good all your life and seeing him brought out that crazy, thrill seeking part of yourself.

Silently you dig into your food and as Seungcheol said, the food is really good. This is one of the best meatloaf you've ever had and you can't help but moan. Seungcheol watches you with an amused smile before popping a fry in his mouth.

"What's your major?" Seungcheol asks out of the blue.

"Uh- sociology."

"Mmhmm."

You're about to ask him what he studied in college but you assume he probably never went to one so you seal your lips. You wonder what his background is and who his parents are but you don't want to get too personal on the first day. So you ask something else, "How old are you?" He laughs out loud before he deadpans, "Thirty five." "What!" You almost choke.

There's no way he's-

"Why? What did you expect?"

"I... I don't know! A few years older than me? You're kidding right? You don't look thirty five." He has to be bluffing. "And how old would you be?" "You shouldn't ask a woman her age," you try to make a point. "Don't you have any manners?" He smirks,"I don't, sweetheart. To answer your question, I'm twenty eight."

Uh huh.

"Well, I'm twenty one," you mutter under your breath. You don't know if he hears it because he doesn't give any reaction, busy twirling a fry in sauce. The rest of your meal is full of silence as you wonder if your date will end like this; dry and boring. He's awfully silent and seems to be lost in thoughts as he doesn't engage in a conversation. You're about to take your last bite when the silence is broken by him.

"What did you see that night?" He leans over, his elbows resting on the table as he suddenly regards you with a sombre look, his earlier cockiness vanished. His eyes have once again gone dark and his demeanor says he's not being superficial right now. You're caught off guard as you cough loudly, reaching for your glass to take a sip of water. "What?"

"You heard me. What did you see that night? Exactly how much did you see?" He repeats. You're confused. You thought he didn't care about it. He said it didn't matter. So why is he bringing it up now? You've worked hard to push that night in the deepest part of your brain, pretending it didn't happen.

And then suddenly it clicks.

"You!" You point an accusatory finger at him as you catch on to his plan. "You've agreed to go out with me so that you can find out what I saw that night!" Seungcheol groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, just fucking tell me!" He snaps, annoyed that you've found out his little scheme. You scoff, "I thought you said you didn't care? Besides it's not like I'm going to tell the police." He rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch. "Just tell me and let me go."

You're baffled. His actions didn't make any sense and you actually thought he had no other intentions behind dating you but holy shit this sneaky bastard. "You sly little asshole!" You hiss at him. "Call me that once more and you'll regret it." He threatens. You roll your eyes sagging back into your seat, "Whatever." Then an idea hits you. "You know what, I'll tell you exactly how much I saw that night." You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he stares intensely at you, waiting for your next words. "On our third date. When this whole deal is over, I'll tell you. But in return you'll have to keep your promise and take me out on two more dates."

"Oh fucking hell," he groans rubbing his face in frustration. His state makes you smirk and you feel accomplished.

Choi Seungcheol is stressed because of you.

What a day to be alive.

You murmur, "Besides this isn't even a proper date. This was more like an interrogation. But I'll go easy on you and won't make you redo this date." You give him a sweet smile and he sees red. You can literally see fury blaze in his eyes. "Whatever!" He yells and abruptly stands up. "I don't have time for this. Your stupid play date is over. I'm dropping you home."

Before you can reply, he's marching towards the door. You've to admit this wasn't the best date but at least you've trapped Choi Seungcheol.

-

It has been a good week after your so called date at the diner and you haven't heard from him. You expected him to call or text you since he was gracious enough to ask for your number but he didn't. You now realize it was a mistake to not get his number; you had asked him for his when he took yours but being the prick he is he denied to hand over his number to you. You should have forced him to, you sigh. As you sit in the library the ping of your mobile distracts you from your racing thoughts as you realize you have a message. Picking the device up you tap on the notification. Even though it was from an unknown number, you have no trouble figuring out who it is from. A smile graces your lips as you read the words over again.

I'll pick you up from your house tomorrow evening at six.

That's all it says and that is good enough to send a thrum of excitement throughout your body.

-

You have not held back in dressing up today and you realize it's been a long time since you've dolled up yourself. A long before the clock strikes 6 you are ready; dressed in a cute pastel top and a matching skirt. You've also went ahead and applied makeup, not too much but just enough to maybe catch his eye. Maybe.

You wonder what he has planned for today.

A text from Seungcheol saying he's here has you flying out of your apartment as fast as your feet can carry your desperate self to see him. He stands in front of your apartment with his convertible, dressed in a white jacket that matched his pants. You take a deep breath before walking towards him, trying to calm all your nerves down.

"You know I expected to hear from you earlier. I've been waiting all week," you voice makes his head turn around to meet your eyes as you are skipping towards him with a teasing smile in your face. "I've been busy," he shrugs coolly, his eyes going over your whole body, from your legs to your face. He doesn't hide that he's taking a good look at you, in fact does it unashamedly.

You wonder if he likes what he sees.

Someone dressed up today," he comments. "Too bad we aren't going to a place where you can show off your pretty clothes." You frown, "Where are we going?" Seungcheol holds open the door, a mischievous smile on his face. "I've decided to grant your wish." With a confused face you get inside the car, the gears in your head running. What does he mean?

"I'm taking you to an underground fighting ring," he says with smirk as he reaches for something behind his seat. He pulls out a large hoodie and tosses it towards you, "Put this on. Otherwise you are going to attract a lot of attention and you don't want that." You gulp, taking the hoodie and putting it on you. You're slightly embarrassed. You were so excited to try this outfit but it's not like you knew he was taking you to a fight club. Hell you would have dressed like a guy if you knew. You shrug on the hoodie and it falls almost to your knees but it's huge and comfy and most importantly it smells like him. There's a hint of cologne, nothing too strong; a subtle, expensive scent that makes you want to take a deeper sniff. You wonder if you can keep this with you.

Stop it, pervert.

Seungcheol's voice pulls you out of your haze, "You can take it off later. Just wear it until we're out of there," he says and brings the engine to life.

Then you actually think about it. Underground fighting ring? Holy shit. You were only kidding when you mentioned it. Admittedly, you're shocked, somewhat horrified. Everyone knows it isn't the best place to be at especially for someone like you who never had such an experience. Seungcheol must have seen your expression because the smile on his face gets bigger, "Why? You not up for it?" His voice is teasing.

He's challenging you.

Oh well.

"Of course I'm up for it," you square your shoulders, keeping your voice cool. "Bring it on."

-

Seungcheol leads you into a bar and then through a door at the back that leads down to a lot of stairs, reaching a place similar to an underground parking lot. Quietly you follow Seungcheol, staying as close to him as possible, your bodies occasionally touching. He leads you to a pair of double doors and from the other side you can hear men shouting and chanting.

This is it, I guess.

Seungcheol throws one more smile at you before pushing open the doors as you scramble to follow him closely. The sight that greets you something you only see in movies. There's a boxing ring where two people are throwing punches at each other and surrounding them from all sides is a wild, loud and excited crowd. They continue to cheer loudly as the two men in the ring continue to box and you hear their grunts and groans.

Holy shit.

Swallowing your eyes meet Seungcheol's who is regarding you with curiosity. "What do you think?" He has to speak loudly for you to hear over the screaming throng. "Uh... It's loud," you say dumbly as you try to think of a reply. But it's too loud for you to even think properly as you take in your unfamiliar surroundings. You see a tall man approaching towards you and out of reflex you shuffle closer to Seungcheol until you realize it's his friend. The guy from the first night. He and Seungcheol grin at each other, patting their backs as they talk close to each others ears. You gawk at them curiously and realize they must be talking about you because his friend takes curious glances at you occasionally. His friend is tall, really tall and well built but unlike his body his face is sweet and puppy like, almost cute. When he grins his canines pop up just like a puppy and you wonder if all his friends are good looking.

After he's done chatting with his friend Seungcheol pulls you close and says, "This is my friend. Mingyu. Always stay near him, you hear me? Don't stray away unless you wanna get hurt." His eyes are stern as he pins you down with his stare but you have other thoughts running in your head.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?" You yell over the noise.

He just smirks at you and starts taking his jacket off. "About time you see how we do it around here." His tone is cocky as he hands his jacket to you, "Hold this for me. And stay close to him."

Giving a look at Mingyu Seungcheol starts walking away towards a door that you're guessing is the changing room.

He's gonna fight.

"Wait- but-" Mingyu stops you with a hand on your shoulder and offers you a kind smile. "It's fine. Just stay with me." He then ushers you towards the crowd, spotting a place where you can get a good look at the ring. "Do you guys do this often?" You look up at Mingyu. He smiles sheepishly, "Not me. I tried a few times and I always end up beaten to a pulp. But hyung does this often, he's really good."

"Uh huh, I'm sure he is," you smile dryly. "This is your first time watching a fight, no?" "Definitely." He grins, "Watch carefully then. It's really fun."

You have your doubts on how watching people beat each other up can be fun but you don't comment anything, instead chew on your lip anxiously. Seungcheol really didn't have to go this far? What if he gets hurt badly? Is he trying to impress you?

Don't flatter yourself, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

As the loud cheering that had died down ensues again, your train of thoughts are halted as you see Seungcheol in shorts and his hands covered in boxing gloves, step into the ring. You can't help but ogle at his naked torso, his finely defined and chiseled muscles. He has the perfect body, not too bulky, not too lean just the right amount that gives you a hard time taking your eyes off him. He seems to have noticed your gaze because the second your eyes meet, he throws a haughty, knowing smirk at you. Embarrassed you avert your gaze elsewhere.

His opponent is a muscular man who's growling and banging his chest with his fists, a gesture of intimidation, you suppose. You are definitely intimidated and you wonder if Seungcheol can actually win against him.

The fight starts with a whistle and in mere seconds they are on to each other, throwing punches left and right. Your eyes have a hard time keeping up with them and their fast reflexes and your hands fly to your mouth as a punch lands on Seungcheol's face, followed by repeated blows as Seungcheol falls back. There's a moment of silence as he wipes his bottom lip and you realize there's a cut.

He tilts his neck, popping the bones and glaring at the other man before launching himself on top of his opponent. The next moments are a blurry mess, Seungcheol beating the guy repeatedly until he ends up on the floor but he doesn't stop there. Seungcheol ends it with a sharp jab to his spine and you have no doubt the other man has broken bones with the ways he howls in pain. The match comes to an end like that as the people cheer wildly while Seungcheol steps down from the stage. Mingyu grins at you happily as if what you witnessed was just a regular occurrence, something you should be cheerful about. Shaking your head at the situation, you let out a deflated sigh.

Their life is really so different than yours.

-

Seungcheol seems to be in a very good mood after the fight as he buys you both some sandwiches and drinks from a deli after you both step out of the bar. You both sit down at a park nearby to eat and watch the night sky. "You know, I thought you were gonna lose," you speak after taking a few bites of the sandwich. Seungcheol scoffs, "You underestimate me, sweetheart. I've been doing this for a long time."

"Do you enjoy it?" You ask quietly, focused on peeling the wrapper from your food. You feel Seungcheol's stare on you. "Yes. Why? Are you scared already?"

"No. I was just... curious. Your definition and my definition of fun is totally different." You murmur. "Of course. What did you think? I go to the mall and shop and watch movies with my friends when I'm bored?" His tone is sarcastic. You bite your lip. "No I didn't. It's just...I feels different now that I have experienced it first hand." Seungcheol offers nothing more, taking a sip of his coke and leaning back into the bench. A silence stretches between the both of except the rustling of the wrapper of your food. "How long have you been doing this?" You blurt out. He frowns at you and you don't expect him to answer but he surprises you.

"For a long time."

He doesn't offer anymore and you don't have the heart to prod him for an actual answer. "And how long do you plan on doing this?"

"What?"

"I mean... don't you have any other plans. Like...do you wanna keep doing what you are doing for the rest of your life? Don't you wanna like... settle down maybe?" Your voice is soft as if you are talking to a child. Seungcheol looks annoyed. He doesn't speak for a while as he stares at the ground, a frown etched to his face. You're about to take back your question when he replies, "I really don't think you understand. I've been trying to tell you that my life is completely disparate to yours. So I don't think like you. I don't have plans like you but neither am I expected to follow a certain pattern like you. I can do whatever the fuck I want, ___. So don't look at me like you pity me. I'm the last person here that should be pitied. " His tone is sharp and it makes you feel bad, like a sensation of needles pricking your heart. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry," You whisper, feeling timid as you look down at your lap. He mutters, "Don't go poking your nose in other people's business. Specially people like me."

He's right. You shouldn't have asked that. You are not close enough to ask things like that. After that there is a silence, this time, an awkward one. There's palpable tension in the air and you feel jittery. Should you just ask him to take you home?

It's still early and truth be told, you don't want to leave him just yet. You only have one more date to go and judging by his reaction, he is in no way interested in a relationship. You heave out a long sigh. You knew very well what you were getting into, yet you couldn't stop yourself. Seungcheol is like a poison, the sweetest one, the one that has you addicted and unable to let go, no matter how much it hurts.

This is a fucking mess.

"Let's get going. I have plans," Seungcheol announces, standing up. You want to protest but you feel like you have ruined the mood, so you follow him mutely to his car.

The drive to your house is awfully quiet, to the point you want to scream out of frustration. Seungcheol seems to be lost in his head as he makes no move to talk. It's like you are alone, but you're not and it's worse, the air full of tension. Soon you have reached your house and he stops the car but keeps the engine rolling, indicating his rush. He keeps still and stares ahead while gripping the steering wheel as you step out of the car in silence. "Thanks for dropping me home," you say lamely, your voice meek. You turn around to walk away but his voice stops you in your tracks.

"I promised you three dates and I will keep my word. I expect you to keep yours, ___. I hope you will tell me what I want to hear when we meet next time." His tone is sharp with an edge of threat and you barely get to nod before he drives away.

It's not until you're inside your apartment that you realize you still have his hoodie on. Quickly fishing out your phone you type out a text.

I'm sorry, I forgot to return your hoodie.

After a while, his reply comes.

Keep it.

-

You watch Katelyn as she fills her lunch tray with food before walking over and taking a seat opposite to you. She looks extra radiant today, which probably has something to do with the way she's dressed; a bright colourful outfit which undoubtedly she put a lot of time into considering. She has a date, with a guy she has been talking to for the last few weeks. It reminds you of your pitiful situation and you sigh, trying to shrug off those thoughts.

It has been a good couple weeks since you last saw Seungcheol and you have not exchanged a word after that night. In the back of your mind you wonder if he is even alive. You want to message him, you really want to because you are going crazy but after how your last date ended, you can't bring yourself to. You are scared, exactly of what, you can't put your finger into.

The entire situation you have put yourself into is fucking scary. They say you become sure of your feelings after three dates but it did not take that much for you. You already are very certain about your feelings for him and how deep they run exactly and you also know that in the end you will be left scarred. He would never be yours. He has probably forgotten about you or decided that it is not worth another date to figure out what you saw that night.

You let a desperate, pitiable sigh.

"I know you are hiding things from me but I understand that you are not ready to talk yet. But I want you to know I am here for you okay?" Katelyn's voice makes you blink your way out of your thoughts. She squeezes your hand tightly and gives you a reassuring smile and you're left feeling guilty.

"I ...I will tell you. Soon. Just give me a bit more time," you whisper. She nods in understanding. A grateful smile touches your lips as her words make you emotional. Then there's a ping from your phone letting you know there's a message. Without giving it much thought you open the device and your eyes go wide.

I'll take you out for dinner tomorrow night. Wear something formal.

-

You wait outside your apartment for Seungcheol. Your day has passed by in a flurry of excitement and nerves as you carefully picked your outfit and did your hair and makeup. A soft baby pink dress that stopped just above you knees adorns you as your hair rests just above your neck in a loose bun.

You are fiddling with your fingers as you think about how this night is gonna end and wether you will ever see him again when a car screech that grabs your attention.

Seungcheol's convertible has taken a stop in front of you and you see the man getting out the vehicle and take big steps towards you.

You're mesmerized.

Perhaps there is not enough word in this world to describe his looks or perhaps you've simple lost the ability to speak; either way, you just stand and stare, drinking the godly man that stands in front of you. He looks delectable, completely flawless and agonizingly gorgeous in his sharp black suit and pants, with a silk black shirt underneath, the top couple buttons undone that reveals a beautiful porcelain skin. His hairstyle completes the look, parted to one side in a sleek way and showing his forehead and oh god is it sexy. You realize you have a forehead kink, if there is anything as such.

If you weren't in love with him before you are now.

He looks ravishing, and you wonder why it isn't illegal to look this good. It should be because you have completely lost control over yourself. Nothing exists in your world except for him and you feel paralyzed, unable to do anything but drink him in. You wonder if you are even worthy to stand beside him.

"____?" Seungcheol calls you, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. He must have been calling you while you were eye fucking him. "Oh! Um, hi." You're flustered. "You- you look really, really nice." It isn't enough but it's what you can get past your lips. A knowing smirk kisses his lips before he teases, "Well, you look really, really nice too." Motioning you to his car he says, "Shall we? We'll be late for our reservation."

"Yeah, of course," you say, hurrying over to his car, embarasssed at your foolery. Seungcheol must have noticed you ogling him like that. But you don't really care when he looks like that. It is his fault for looking so devilishly handsome and idly you wonder if he did that on purpose. If he's deliberately teasing with, trying to make you the most miserable before letting you go with a slap of reality to your face. Pushing away those plagueing thoughts, you sit up straight and clear your throat as Seungcheol comes to sit beside you and brings the engine to life.

A decently long and quiet (except for the music from the radio) but not quite uncomfortable car ride later, Seungcheol stops in front of a really fancy and expensive looking restaurant just by the sea. You did not except him to take you to a high end restaurant, otherwise you would have put some more effort in your looks.

Feeling slightly out of place you quietly follow Seungcheol into the beautiful European styled building after he hands his keys to a valet. The interior is dripping with polished furnitures and extravagant chandeliers and marble floors as guests dressed elegantly have their dinner. As you look around the place in awe Seungcheol talks to the receptionist who then guides you towards a staircase that leads to a pair of large double doors decorated with gold which then, opens to a large balcony. In the middle of it sits a table with two chairs and an unceremonious gasp escapes your mouth as you realize this is where you will be having dinner.

The man from earlier takes his leave as Seungcheol helps you sit down before taking a seat for himself while you take in everything, overwhelmed with all your surroundings. Why did he put so much effort for a lousy and fake date?

"What do you think?" He asks with a smirk as he rests one of his elbows on the table.

"I'm overwhelmed," you reply quietly, honestly. He chuckles, "Well this place has really good food and a fantastic view so I thought it wouldn't bad for our last date."

Last date.

"It's really beautiful. I don't know why you did this but thank you, really," you murmur, eyes on the satin table cloth with intricate golden lining. Everything about this place is so pretty.

"Well, I decided it would be beneficial for me to extract words from you if you are wooed," his words have a teasing tone to it and his demeanor is completely different from last time, giving you a whiplash but you are not sure if he's fully joking. Before you can say that you are definitely wooed, a waiter appears to take your order and you leave the duty of ordering to Seungcheol since he seems to frequent this place. Prior to his leave, the waiter pours you Seungcheol's champagne of choice and then, you two are alone once more.

Reaching for the flute, you quickly gulp down the champagne to soothe your dry throat and to calm all your nerves.

Over dinner you talk about your uni and your parents back home and the farm they own. While Seungcheol mostly keeps quiet he doesn't ignore you but listens carefully, occasionally passing glances your way or commenting. He does not offer anything about him, which you expected and you don't ask any questions about him either. Instead you try your best to keep his interest in your words despite the lack of it from his side.

After a hearty meal of poached lobsters and wagyu beefs and creamy soups comes dessert; a chocolate orange mousse with spiced fruits and yogurt sorbet. You start eating your dessert in silence, the occasional crashing of waves filling the complete lack of sounds.

This location is truly magnificent and breathtaking, almost having a feel like you're in a fancy resort in a luxurious tropical island. It is undoubtedly the most beautiful place you have ever been, let alone have dinner at and you wonder if you would ever have the chance to visit some place like this had you not met Seungcheol. The man in question, continues eating quietly, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He looks lovely as always, if not more and you try to burn this image in your mind for you to look back at later. You want to ask him so many question, you want to tell him so many things but you're scared. Sacred if you do so this moment will break, scared it will annoy him and end your final date all too early. So you bite your tongue and finish your food as he does and after your plates are cleared away, you are served another expensive champagne as an end to your luxurious dinner.

Even though Seungcheol doesn't say anything, you assume it is time to spill the beans, to say what he has been wanting to hear from the beginning. You have teased him enough and it is time you give him what he deserves. Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth. "Me and Katelyn heard noises from the playground that night so we decided to check. It was pretty dark and we were tipsy but I recognized you and you were... beating someone up. We stayed there and watched until one of us accidentally made some noise. We were scared that you heard us so we ran. That's all that happened."

You have Seungcheol's full attention now as he listens cautiously, his sharp eyes trained on you. Gulping, you clench your hands together underneath the table, waiting for his reaction. There seems to be an eternity of silence as Seungcheol simply stares at you as if he's debating whether your words are true or not. It's torturous, awfully agonizing and when you can't bear it anymore you're about to speak but he beats you to it.

"I didn't kill him." His voice is quiet. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Somewhere in the back of your mind you believed it, you believed he wouldn't be cruel enough to kill someone just like that and as soon as he speaks those words you believe him, without a doubt, without a second of delay.

"I believe you." You whisper, holding his gaze. "That asshole deserved what he got. He shouldn't even be alive but I let him go. He's in a hospital now, if you are wondering." You nod quietly. It's scary how much you believe him, how much you trust him even though he is pretty much a stranger.

There's a moment of silence as you bask in his presence before he speaks, "____, men like me, we aren't the nicest people. But we are needed, the cops need us around. People like me do the dirty works for people like you so y'all don't face troubles. We do things in an unconventional way but that's just who we are. We aren't as bad as the rumours say but we definitely aren't someone you should be with." You open your mouth to protest but his sharp gaze makes you stop. "If you have not understood it yet, let me say it out loud. I am trouble. People like me is always bad news. Whatever we did until now, I hope you forget. That's the best, ____ trust me. I think we both got what we wanted so let's call it a night." Just like that, he stands up, not waiting for your reply.

You gawk at him, baffled as he pays the bill and starts walking away. Tears burn the back of your eyes and you bite your lip to hold them back. The ending that you had expected has taken place but you are having a hard time accepting it. Your subconscious reminds you that you deliberately got yourself into this even though you saw this coming. So there is no one to blame for it but you. Grabbing your purse, you stomp your way out of the restaurant and towards Seungcheol's car.

Seungcheol barely acknowledges you as you both get in the car and he presses the key to the ignition. You are fuming in your seat, his words and the way he dismissed you cutting you deep. His words come to you, I think we both got what we wanted. You want to laugh. How can he possibly think that? Is he really so stupid or is he deliberately ignoring your interest in him? You want to smack his perfect face, curse and scream at him but all you can do is sit still with your arms crossed as steam comes out of your head. Is he really not curious about your feelings? Does he possess none for you? Does these few days with you mean nothing to him? You have so many unanswered questions. Leaning back into your seat, you close your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

It feels like in the blink of an eye the drive to your place is over as Seungcheol halts his car in front of your apartment. He does not utter a single word, doesn't even spare a glance at you while patiently waiting for you to get out of the car.

Asshole.

You inhale deeply, trying your best to gather yourself together as you take off your seatbelt and turn towards him.

"Seungcheol?" Few seconds pass before he looks at you. Words are stuck in your throat. When your eyes meet his, you become mute, overwhelmed with emotions as your words die in your tongue. He keeps staring at you, not opening his mouth but waiting for you to speak. "Is this goodbye?" Your voice breaks.

"I believe we don't have any reason to see each other. We both got what we wanted," He says without batting an eye. You're left bemused, one step away from landing a slap on his face. How dare he say that?

"Do you really believe that?" Your words come out as an accusation. "I wanted to go out with you because I thought I have feelings for you! And I do! And my feelings have only increased since I first saw you. I want to see you again, Seungcheol. You may have gotten what you wanted but I didn't." Your fades into a whisper as tears burn the back of your eyes.

Seungcheol stays quiet, staring ahead, his brows knitted as if he's annoyed. "I promised you three dates, ____. And I gave you that. It's over. Your feelings? You'll get over them. It's better to be in pain for a while that be with someone like me."

"You can't say that! I get to decide for myself!"

"____," he sighs, rubbing his temples. "I'm a bad man. You should leave while you still have a good image of me. You'll get hurt because of me and I've caused enough pain to enough people. Just...go. Just forget me." You stare at him as frustrated tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn't meet your gaze but turns his head the other way. You are angry, infuriated and heart broken all at a time. Clenching your fists you inhale a shaky breath before reaching for him.

Before you can chicken out, you tilt his face towards you and quickly press your lips against his. Seungcheol seems to be shocked as a small gasp leaves his mouth but you don't let him push you away. Instead one of your hands come to rest on his thigh as he other cups his face to keep his mouth against yours. You kiss him with all you have left, pouring in every bit of passion and love for him as your tongues intertwine. By the time you are both breathless, Seungcheol gently pushes you back and peers into your eyes. "That's all I can give you, ____." He says, his voice the softest you have heard. You are broken into a million pieces and as much as your heart wants to cling to him, you suddenly feel tired, deflated like a popped balloon. Your emotions have drained you out and left nothing and right now, breathing almost seems too painful for you. Taciturnly, you grab your purse and step out the convertible. You hear another door shut behind you but you don't look back as your heavy steps carry you to the entrance of your building. When you are about to enter your apartment, you accumulate all your strength and courage to spare one final glance at him.

Turning around you see Seungcheol standing by his car, hands in his pockets, simply watching you. Even though your eyes are locked on each other, you don't see any emotion in them. He looks like the same expressionless, mysterious man you saw the first day. The man you fell in love with. Taking in his gorgeous features one last time, you bite your lip and turn away, forcing yourself to walk inside your apartment building.

Your chapter with Seungcheol ends here.

Epilogue

A/N : Okay so idk why this fucking app is being like this but it says I reached the maximum of 250 blocks but I thought tum1r didn't have a word limit?? Anyway so I've decided to break it up and put the rest of the fic in another post. Please click epilogue to read that.

Taglist: @koo-18 @shiningstar-byulxx @pcisonedhaos @happyvitamin @yoongischeeksluv @haluim17 @nayam14 @horanghae-gumanhae @cottonsthings @hotcheetosnorter99 @peekabooseoksoon @acapellaanna @amixoferrthang

[savage-rhi]

I got beaten up on Christmas day by a family member I trusted. I’m now just getting over it. The situation was unexpected. It undid some progress, and I feel grateful I’ve been able to bounce back as quickly as I did. If I didn’t have therapy when I got it years ago, I could’ve easily fell back into my old self. Physically, I’m okay. Nothing was broken. 

The fibromyalgia flares have been heavy. It’s painful to move and difficult to type, much less other activities I enjoy. I’m chipping away little by little on writing projects, requests, and other things I’m passionate about. It doesn’t feel like I’m getting much done compared to where I was in November. I know when winter goes away and it gets warm again, I’ll feel better cause I’m used to this cycle by now, but it’s a long wait. It’s hard to have patience when you’re ambitious. I’m trying to give myself more grace. 

I think I’ve entered the dead zone of the year, where not much gets done besides the basics like work, chores, maybe one major activity/pursuit then bed. I appreciate the people that stick around in whatever capacity during this time cause I know I don’t have much to offer. 

It’s hard being undermined at a job because of your age. People automatically assume you don’t understand certain traumas and other horrible shit because they “don’t see you” going through something like that, but...you did. You did and that’s why you try and connect with others hurting so they can get to the good again; so that they don’t suffer like you did. Maybe they don’t have to learn too late what their worth was. Maybe they won’t have to grow up so damn fast like you did. Being an adult in the body of a 6-7 year old for survival is special hell. 

I definitely like kids better than most adults. They see through bullshit clearly. Many folks lose that edge when they get older. I’m happy I get to work with them on their mental health in the capacity I have. I’m glad some of my peers respect my training, experience, and tact. I’m glad I have a few clients for my peer support business too. I’d like more stability and more people there. 

I have two bachelor degrees. An associates. Several certifications, and playing with the idea of getting another degree down the road. On one hand it feels right, on the other, it feels like a waste of time and money. The years I put into the previous stuff hasn’t gotten me much anywhere. I’m not in the field I studied and trained for originally. Unless I move out of the area, I don’t stand a chance but you gotta have a stable income and a living wage to move. It’s hard. Its really hard for most folks. I know I’m not alone. Pretty much my whole generation is in the same boat along with those younger. I was homeless last year for the second time in my life. I’m happy where I’m at but again...ambition. I want to do so much and accomplish so much, but my body can’t keep up and I gotta play ball with the powers that be outside of my control. 

The pandemic definitely threw a hard wrench in some life plans for sure. 

I get lonely. I drift.

I’m thankful I can keep doing what I can, but I wish I could hibernate until March.

I got a lot on my mind. A lot happens at a million miles a second. 

I’m happy I’m not getting hate mail anymore. 

I love and appreciate many. I hope they know that even if I don’t speak or talk much. I hope they feel my atoms vibing for theirs. 

Somehow if by the grace of the gods you read through all this barf, please treat yourself to something nice. A cookie. A piece of cake. A movie. Pounce your lover like a tiger. Idk. Fuck around and find out generously. 

We got this. Somehow we got this. 

[noteguk]

i was wondering how bad influence! jk and oc started interacting? like what made them start talking

[ ! ] this dabble is a prequel to “bad influence”

— words; 1.6k

~

Your professor was looking at you with expectation, the small piece of paper hanging between his fingers like the sword of Damocles over your head. You were staring at him in silence for a few seconds now, and the whole situation was starting to get awkward. 

“So,” he pressed on, dangling the paper in front of your eyes. On it, the name and phone number of one of your classmates. “What do you say?” 

When he asked you to stay after class, you expected it would be something related to tutoring. Your professor had mentioned it in passing a few times before, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise when he told you he had found you someone who really needed your assistance. You were beaming with joy for precisely a minute and twenty one seconds until he revealed the name of your student. 

Jeon Jungkook. 

Before you had any chance to muster an excuse for why you couldn’t — under any circumstance — get close to someone like that, even less tutor him, your professor already had his card up his sleeve. “It’ll be good for your curriculum.” 

And you said yes in a heartbeat. 

~

Jungkook was predictable. You knew that he would be late (after all, his cringy bad boy persona would never allow him to follow one single rule in his life), you just didn’t know it would be almost two-hours-late. By the point that you saw that hurricane in human form walking into the library, you had already finished your homework for the entire week. 

He had the nerve to smirk at you, and you swore an oath to yourself that you wouldn’t present him with the irritation he was expecting. And you didn’t — with all the patience and kind-heartedness that your parents had pushed down your throat your entire life, you put on your best commercial smile and greeted him like he was just in time. 

“Well, now that you’re here, let’s start with the basics and go over some defense cells.” You tugged the heavy Immunology book towards you, quickly flipping the pages towards the chapter that you had chosen for that first session. Jungkook had already taken his typical slouched position on the chair next to you, looking like he was about to slide down to the carpeted floor. “I’d like to know how familiar you are with it, though. Can you start by telling me about the types of lymphocytes?” 

He chuckled, running one hand through his hair. “I have no idea what that shit is.”

You took a deep breath and ignored the irritation that was building up on your stomach. You didn’t know how someone could be so indifferent about everything. “Well... that’s why I’m here,” you managed to keep your voice cheerful. 

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re here because you wanna get paid, princess. No need to play the Good Samaritan.”

You thought about telling him that you weren’t getting paid, but the idea wasn’t the best one. He’d probably mock you even more for wasting your Friday afternoon tutoring in the name of your curriculum. Not that he knew the importance of that, anyways. 

“This is some bullshit.” Jungkook rested his head on his crossed arms, lying over the table, pushing away your pens and notebooks as he did so. His black hair fell over his features as he grouchily mumbled out, “I don’t even know why I chose this class, it has nothing to do with my major.”

You were surprised that he was even majoring in something, instead of just frequenting the campus as an excuse to meet girls. “Well, I can't answer that for you, can I?” You asked, tapping on his book’s hardcover. That little antibody drawing was staring at you in a silent mockery, wondering if you’d be able to make him study — or even care about anything. “But I can help you with the rest. Now, come on. Types of lymphocytes.”

His eyebrows came down to form a confused frown. Jungkook would’ve probably given you the same reaction if you had just called his mother all the filthy names you could think of. “You’re really trying to teach me?” He asked. “Like, for real?” 

You sighed. The time you taught your little cousin how to read was less frustrating than that. “It’s kind of my job as a tutor, you know.”

Jungkook rose from his position and leaned back against the chair, his arms crossing before his chest. Beneath them, his strong pecs stressed against the fabric of his white shirt, but you refused to look. “You know that you can just pretend to teach me, I can pretend to learn, and you’re gonna get your credits anyways, right?” He asked as if you were the stupidest person he had ever met. “You don’t need to actually put in the effort, princess. Especially since I don’t give any fucks about immunology.” 

If he called you that stupid pet name one more time, you swore you were going to knock him out. “Well, I’m already here, I’d rather do things right.”

He scoffed, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes. “God, you’re so booooring,” he groaned. “Don't you have some charity work to do or something?” 

“I’m doing it right now.” You smiled. “I can see that you’re really trying to fail this class, don’t get me wrong. But I’m just trying to do my job—“

“Boooooring,” he sang, louder than the librarian would ever allow if she was close enough to hear him. Jungkook looked back at you, his eyes narrowed. You couldn’t really tell if he was disgusted or just annoyed. “Why do you even care? It’s just some stupid class, it doesn’t even matter. I’ll tell the professor you taught me everything and we can both go home.” 

“I can’t do that,” you said, firm. 

“Why not?” 

“First of all, because that’s wrong,” you told him. Just as you were about to say that, also, his unavoidable horrible grades would make clear that he hadn’t learned shit (which would make you look like a clown instead of a tutor), his laugh ruptured your sentence. 

“Oh, come on. You’re kidding me.” He smiled brightly — not a tender one, of course, but one full of perverse mockery. You had never met someone as condescending as Jungkook, and he was managing to push every single button inside you. “That’s wrong? What are you, six?” 

You frowned. “You’re the child here, just trying to find a easy way out instead of putting in the eff—“ 

“What are your dreams, princess?” He interrupted again, leaning his head to the side. You really, really, really hated him. “Wait, no, let me guess. A family, a suburban house, and a dog? A nine to five? Something like that? Having your husband cheat with the babysitter before you’re forty?”

Some part of you knew that he was just trying to make you so angry that you would give up on tutoring him. Jungkook didn’t know that you wouldn’t throw away your obligations so quickly, but he was able to make you mad enough to get an answer. “What are yours?” you spat, kindness long forgotten. “Remaining unemployed, talentless, mentally trapped in your twenties, and fucking desperate milfs for money until you die from an early overdose?” 

If your priest had heard you talk like that, he would most surely faint. 

Jungkook, however, didn’t seem so horrified. In fact, his disgusted smile quickly morphed into a diverted one, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Uh,” he mumbled. “Interesting.”

The shame from your previous outburst was starting to weigh down on you, but you managed to keep it undercover. “What?” 

“Didn’t know you had a mouth on you,” he said, clearly entertained. In a way, you were glad that he hadn’t taken your words to heart, because he could probably snap you in half if he was feeling like it. “You’re always so shy and shit. I thought you were going to cry.” 

“I’m not shy,” you spoke, defensive. You had gotten close to shedding a couple tears, but he didn’t need to know that. You hated confrontation. “I just don’t wanna talk to people like you unless I’m obligated to.” 

He raised his eyebrows — a silent threat. “People like me?”

There was a second of hesitation from your part that Jungkook didn’t miss. “Yes.” You couldn’t hold his piercing gaze. As much as Jungkook was annoying the shit out of you, you didn’t actually want to have a full-blown argument with him. Especially on university grounds. “People who can’t even tell me about lymphocytes. Now, are you done with your victimization session? Can we start, or do you wanna tell me more about how you’re burning college money and you are so superior because of it?” 

He chuckled and looked you up and down — actually looked at you. Weirdly enough, it felt like the first time that Jungkook was actually seeing you, and not the empty shell of a stereotype that he had built for you in his peanut-sized brain. “You’re really trying here, aren’t you?” He asked. 

You didn’t know if he was talking about the tutoring session anymore, but you decided not to bite. “Is that a sin now?” And, before he could say anything else, you added, “Page 124. Come on. Unlike you, I don’t have all day to sit around doing nothing.” 

He smirked. “You’re more fun than you look, princess.” 

And, for the first time, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t predictable — he actually opened the book on the page you told him to. 

~

One hour later, he was already dozing off, a small puddle of saliva accumulating on top of his chaotic notes. Still, you counted that as a victory. 

~

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

[tempural]

Manifesto: Proclamation of Artistic Intent.

Inspired by reading the manifestos linked on the yesterweb site, I wanted to write something for myself.  The manifestos on the linked page are mostly about the state of the internet.  I chose to write an artist statement, which happens to be affected by the state of the internet.  I’ll put this on my site later.

Please read this if you’d like to collaborate with me, whether it’s for a commission, zine, or group project.  

My Art

My art is a manifestation of my information and ideas.

My information and ideas may manifest as illustration, narratives, writing, and whatever I feel like at the moment.

My information and ideas should be disseminated freely and accessibly so my evil thoughts can grow.

My art does not necessarily educate, instill values, or provide comfort.

My art is meant to share emotions and experiences.

My art is made primarily for me and my wife.  If anyone else happens to enjoy it, I’m glad.

I publish almost all of the art I make so it can live outside my head and stop bothering me at 4am when I’m trying to sleep.

I unabashedly self-promote with reblogs, retweets, and reposts.  But I don’t waste other’s time with clickbait, popup ads, or spam.

Art In General

Porn is art.  Sexuality should not be inherently shunned.

Technical skill is only useful if helps depict what is in your mind, or if you’re going into the art industry to draw things for others.

Spending eons on practice and studies is only helpful if you want to improve and find joy in improvement.

Make art for yourself, and not the algorithm or for the approval of your peers or parents.

Art is semi-precious.  Discard the art at will, or treasure the art for as long as it brings joy.

Make tons of quick messy sketches to get every idea in my brain out!  

Make a couple of well-worked pieces slowly to enjoy the process.  

Other’s Art

The art I want to see is being made by independent artists and my peers, not corporations.  Independent artists need more support than corporate art to stay alive.

If I see art I love, giving the artists money to survive in our capitalist joker society is a fine action if I can afford it.

If I see art I love, sharing the art helps spread the joy.

If I see art I love, commenting on the art helps let the author know that their art is being shared and enjoyed.

If I see art I do not like, I discard it from my view and mind so I do not waste energy or time on it.  Perhaps that art was meant for someone else to see.

If I see art I profoundly dislike, use it as a learning moment to figure out what I would personally avoid and what I would personally do better.

If I see art that promotes hatred, bigotry, or other fucked up shit that hurts real people, I do not spread the art.  Spreading shit art is a net negative: vulnerable people are exposed, the spread message fortifies other bigots, and bigots crave negative attention.

Projects

My art must to free to view, read, and enjoy.

Paywalls are only for limited physical runs of zines

Paywalls must eventually be lifted when all physical copies are sold out.

If someone likes my art enough to pay for it, they will.

Closing art off with an indefinite paywall to prevent piracy does not mean you are recouping money from people who would not have paid for your art anyways.

Always credit the used works, such as fonts and design assets.

Always credit contributors.

Zines should be easy to DIY and cheap or free for others to enjoy.

Independent art books that end up with hardcovers, glossy pages, 50 contributors, $2000 budgets, and $50 price tags should be called art books rather than zines to respect the craft and work that goes into them.  They should also compensate their contributors with money.

Group zines and artbooks should at the very least compensate their contributors with a free copy of the final product, shipping included.

Values

Actual diversity and intersectionality makes art so much more beautiful.  Diversity has meaning beyond the corporate buzzword of fictional characters depictions.  It means real living artists of every race, gender, sexuality, financial status, and other backgrounds making art, having a platform to share their honest emotions and feeling, and actively being supported.

Art is more nuanced than a 1:1 assessment of moral character.  It ain’t as simple as “wholesome, good, safe people only consume and make wholesome, good, safe art”.  The most abusive human beings can hide behind the facade of a Pixar director making cute kid’s cartoons.

That being said, viewers have the right to avoid any art or artists they do not want to see.  Boundaries should be respected.

Even with things I do not understand, I try to give basic respect.  I assume good faith, and do not debate others’ self-identification.

Bigotry, hate speech, hate mobs, shaming, “cringe culture”, insipid fandom drama, harassment, and devoted negativity is a waste of one’s life.  I do not want to provide a platform for any of that, nor associate with people who promote shit like that.

This list is non-exhaustive.  I hope it gives you a good idea of the artist I am.

[babybluebex]

vanilla sponge [bucky barnes x reader]

➽ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 5.5k ➽ summary: the four times bucky said goodbye and the one time he said hello  ➽ warnings: explicit language, mentions of death, ANGST, eventual happy ending ➽ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BONK!!!! i meant for this to be a fluff blurb but it.... evolved lol. thanks @groupieforbucky​ for beta reading this! masterlist/taglist in bio!

March 10, 1935

You sat on the hood of the car, watching Bucky mess with a candle in front of you. His lighter wasn’t wanting to catch in the cold evening breeze, but he was adamant on lighting the candle up. “What’s the big deal with this candle, Buck?” you asked. “You’re just gonna blow it right out. You really want it that bad?”

Bucky scoffed at you. “Sweet, simple Y/N,” he chuckled. “It’s a tradition for me. My mom used to do it, so I have to.” 

You sighed softly, and you stretched your hands out in front of you. Bucky looked at you for a moment, his eyes sweeping over your frame, and he stepped closer. His large hips settled between your knees easily and he put his hands in yours, and you clicked your tongue. 

“No, you twit,” you giggled. “Gimme the damn lighter.” 

Bucky tilted his head at you and smiled, and he jumped up onto the hood of the car next to you. The two of you had driven out into the countryside for a night alone, just you and your Bucky on his birthday. You had even baked a cake-- you had been saving money for months to be able to afford all of the ingredients for his favorite vanilla sponge. The cake had sat in a box in the backseat of Bucky’s car as you two had walked along the riverside and splashed cold March water on each now, and now it sat next to you as you yourself were sat with Bucky’s jacket around your shoulders. James Barnes was a great guy, charming and cordial, turning 18 that day. He didn’t have much family besides you and your friend from school Steve Rogers, but, as Bucky often said, “You’re easier on the eyes than ol’ Stevie.” 

You lit the lighter with ease, shielding the little flame with your body, and you successfully lit the candle and stuck it into the top of the cake. “Make a wish, Buck,” you said, offering him the cake. “But you can’t tell me what it is, remember.” 

“Well, why not?” Bucky scoffed. “I wanna tell you what my wish is.”

“‘Cause it won’t come true, whacky,” you giggled. “Blow out your candle before it drips wax onto your cake.” 

Bucky looked at you for a long moment, his blue eyes reflecting the orange of the setting sun, and he finally rounded his pink lips and blew out the candle in one strong, swift breath. The smoke curled upwards and you plucked it out of the cake, and you smiled at the bit of white frosting that got on your finger. “Happy birthday, baby,” you said, swiping the tip of his nose with the frosting, and he laughed. “I hope it’s a good one.” 

“It’s the best one yet,” Bucky said. “Besides the inaugural one, of course.” 

“I wish I could’ve gotten you something more than a stupid cake,” you mumbled. 

“No, I love it,” Bucky insisted. “It’s really tasty; you worked hard on it.” With that, he scooped up the bit of frosting from his nose and offered his finger to you, and you licked up the frosting. 

“Well, I’m glad you enjoy it,” you replied, straightening your posture. “C’mon, eat up. My curfew is at nine.” 

Bucky began to eat the cake with his fingers, offering you bits every so often. The car radio was playing just loud enough for you two to hear, and, even with Bucky’s jacket, you found yourself scooting closer and closer to him. You loved him. This wasn’t typical puppy love. You could see yourself baking Bucky vanilla sponge cakes for years to come. Even though he always told you that there was no chance he’d be sent over, you imagined sending him a letter with the recipe so that, at the very least, he could think of you. 

Finally, the box was empty, and Bucky laid back onto the hod, sucking bits of crumbs from his fingers. “Thanks for that, doll,” he said, and you cuddled up into his side. His arms were behind his head, and you settled your head in his underarm. It smelled so much like him and was so ridiculously warm, and you melted into him fully. “I loved it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, and you pressed a chaste kiss to his arm. “I love this.”

“This?” Bucky asked. 

You shrugged and pressed your hand to his chest. “Just being here with you,” you said softly. “I never want it to end.”

Bucky sighed, and he leaned to kiss your head. “Me too,” he whispered. A few quiet moments passed, and you looked up to meet his eyes. “Can you promise me something, dollface?” 

“Anything,” you agreed. 

“We’ll spend every birthday together,” Bucky said. “Even if we’re apart, you’ll send me letters and all. I’ll do the same for your birthday too.” 

You nodded, and you clasped Bucky’s big hand in your little one. “Deal,” you whispered. “As long as I can make you cakes.” 

“I can’t bake worth shit,” Bucky chuckled. “You’ll have to teach me.” 

“I’d love to do that, Bucky,” you told him. 

March 10, 1942

“Look at you,” you cooed. “All gussied up. What’s the occasion, Sarge?” 

Bucky threw his arms around your waist and spun you around, earning him a squeal. He wore his dress uniform, his tie done perfectly and belt cinched around his jacket. His shoes were shiny and his hair gelled and combed, his face clean-shaven. He smelled like the aftershave you had gotten him for Christmas. There was an obvious occasion, and you figured that it was something more than his 25th birthday. “I wanted to take my dame out to dinner,” Bucky said, turning you so that your back pressed against his front. “Is that allowed, Mrs. Barnes?” 

You giggled as Bucky snuffled his mouth into your neck. “I guess so,” you huffed. “But it’s your birthday! I should be doing something for you!” 

“You let me have dessert for breakfast,” Bucky laughed. Then, he kissed your neck, and he added, “And then you gave me vanilla sponge cake afterwards. You’ve done plenty for me, doll.”

“But it’s usually tradition for the birthday-haver to be the guest of honor,” you said. “And for you to be pleased. It doesn’t make sense that you do all the work today. That’s not how birthdays work.” 

“Well, dollface, that’s why I joined the Army, remember?” Bucky laughed. “Wanna help people, all that business?” 

“I thought it was to get away from me,” you giggled. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Right, because I joined the Army to get away from you and immediately turned around and married you to keep you around,” he scoffed. “You’re not thinking right, woman. What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m still fuzzy from this morning,” you admitted. Bucky’s arms tightened around you and drew you closer into him, and he took a deep breath from your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the powder you had used on your face. “You broke my brain, you and your stupid tongue.” 

“And my lips,” Bucky added cheekily. “Don’t forget that.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” you said. “Trust me, I won’t ever forget that. But don’t you agree?”

“Christ, woman!” Bucky laughed. “Let me take you to dinner! Why’re you fighting this so hard?” 

“I’m not fighting it!” you said quickly. “I’m just saying that it’s not how it’s usually done!”

“Well, we don’t do things the usual way, do we?” Bucky laughed. “Anyway, I think I like this better. Any day I don’t shower you with my love is a wasted day.”

“You’re corny,” you laughed. 

“But you love it,” Bucky said, and you shrugged. 

“Tolerate, more like,” you said, and Bucky laughed. The doorbell rang, interrupting the moment, and you said, “Finish getting ready, I’ll be right back.” 

“Don’t take too long, dollface,” Bucky said, knocking your chin lightly with his finger. “I already miss you.” 

You wrestled yourself from Bucky’s grip and went to the door, and you opened it wide to see a man dressed like your Bucky. Older and stern, he struck a sense of fear and apprehension into you. “Is this the home of Sergeant James B. Barnes?” he asked in a thick voice. 

“Yes,” you replied. 

“Is Sergeant Barnes around?” the man asked. 

You swallowed thickly. You already knew what this man’s presence meant. You nodded quickly, stepping aside to let the man in, and you called, “Bucky, sweetheart! You’ve got a visitor!” 

“Is it Stevie?” Bucky called from the depths of the apartment.

“No, it’s…” you started. “Just come here, James.” 

Bucky appeared at light speed. You never called him James, not even on the day that you had gotten married. He was your Bucky. As soon as he spotted the Army man at your side, his body went rigid, and he gave the man a salute. “At ease, Sarge,” the older man said. “You two seem in good spirits.” 

“It’s…” Bucky began and cleared his throat. His stance relaxed, and his arm slid carefully around your waist. “It’s my birthday, sir. We were on our way to dinner.” 

“Might have to cancel that reservation,” the Army man rumbled. “The 107th is being called to Germany.” 

Your heart sank, and you couldn’t control the tears that stung your eyes. Bucky’s jaw flexed tightly as he absorbed the information, and he sighed heavily. “When do we leave?” he asked slowly. 

“In the morning,” Bucky’s superior said. “The planes ship out at oh-five-hundred.” 

Even under Bucky’s arm, the room felt cold. The trumpet on the radio sounded so distant, and you heard the two men having a conversation behind a veil of disbelief. Bucky had promised you that he wouldn’t get sent overseas. He said the 107th didn’t do that. He had promised you. He had fucking promised you. You broke out of his grip and escaped into the kitchen, and your gaze focused on the cake that sat on the counter. A piece was taken from it, the slice that you had allowed him for breakfast, and the cake itself was housed in a pretty glass cover that your mother had bought you as a wedding present. The candle was still stuck into the top of it, the tip burnt black and curled up. 

“Y/N,” you heard from the door, and you turned to see your husband. His face was pale, his blue eyes as dark as the ocean, and he chewed his bottom lip. “Doll, I--”

“There’s nothing you can say to make this better,” you whispered. “You have to go. It’s what it is. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you.” You turned back quickly, sniffling and trying to hide your tears, and you added, “Your bag’s in the spare room. I think your nametag’s in the box in our closet, I can check if you need me to.” 

Suddenly, his strong arms were around you, holding you to his chest. Bucky didn’t say a word. The material of his dress uniform was itchy against your skin and you could only imagine what it felt like for him, and your knees buckled. The tears came, hot and burning your cheeks, and a sob wrecked your throat. “You promised me,” you whimpered. “You fucking promised me, you bastard! You said that the 107th doesn’t get sent over, you fucking lied to me!”

“I was trying to protect you!” Bucky said, his voice rising to match yours. “You would’ve made yourself sick with all your worrying about when I’d be sent overseas, and I didn’t want that for you!” 

You broke yourself from his grip, and you sniffled up your tears as best as you could. Even if your heart wasn’t crushed, you cried when you were angry, so tears were bound to happen no matter what. “So you lied to me instead?” you asked. “What the fuck’s the matter with you, Bucky? I’ve never lied to you, and I only expected the same from you; I didn’t expect for you to lie about something so fucking big! Jesus Christ, I can’t stand the sight of you.” 

“Doll, please, listen to me,” Bucky said, grabbing your arm. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

Bucky was bigger than you, taller than you, stronger than you. He had a tough skin and an even tougher heart from years of neglect and rejection. But you were his weakness. He cried when you did, laughed when you did, kissed you harder when you kissed him. There was no doubt in your mind that he loved you, but your heart burned with acidic hate. “Get out,” you said. “If you’re gonna leave in the morning, I don’t see why you need to stick around here any longer.” 

“Y/N!” Bucky cried. “Darling, please settle down!”

“If you’re so keen on leaving, then do it,” you said, wrenching your arm from his grip. “And don’t call me darling. Don’t call me doll, don’t call me nothing. You gave that up when you lied to me for years! Our entire relationship! You were already enlisted when we met! You have literally lied to me every day for seven years! What else are you lying to me about? What else are you keeping from me?” 

“Nothing!” Bucky said. “Christ, you need to settle down, please. I know you’re upset, but do you really think leaving things like this will make you feel better?”

“It’ll make me feel something,” you whispered. “Something other than missing you. Go stay with Steve or whatever, I just… I just don’t want to fall asleep next to you, and then wake up and not have you there. I… I wanna say goodbye.” 

Bucky took a tentative step towards you, then pulled you close to him. His eyes were watery as he looked at your face, and he swiped away your makeup with his thumb. He smiled wistfully, every single memory of you that he had shooting through his brain as quickly as they could manage, and he said, “Then don’t. I’m coming back, my love. I promise you. And I’m not keeping anything from you. All my cards are on the table here, doll. I’m coming back for you.” 

You two devised a plan. You and Bucky would go to bed, but he would wake you up when he did, and you would get a goodbye. You helped him pack his bag according to regulation, and you carefully slipped in a picture that your mother had taken on your wedding day. You sat in the middle, veil over your hair, flowers still fresh, with Steve Rogers next to you. You were about an inch taller than him in the picture, but you both were smiling. The bride and the best man. You knew that Bucky needed to be reminded of his brother as much as he was reminded of you. 

When the alarm rang shrilly in the morning, you watched from the bed as Bucky got up and dressed in his uniform. An olive green that complimented his skin, his boots tied around his ankle, and his silver dog tags buried under his collar. He turned to you, silent, crying, and he moved back to the bed. You still wore your nightgown, and Bucky took the lacy hem in his fingers and sighed. “I’ll miss you,” he whispered. 

Your arms went around his neck and tugged him in, and he buried his face in your neck. You caressed his head as he cried, and you tried to hug him as tightly as he had hugged you. “I’ll miss you more,” you whispered back. Your chest hurt with the urge to cry, but even the notion of it made you feel sick to your stomach. “I love you so much, Bucky.” 

“When I get home,” Bucky said. “I’m gonna hold you and never let you go.” 

“I’ll pencil it in,” you said through your tears.

As soon as the door shut, you pulled his pillow to your mouth, closed your teeth around it, and screamed. 

March 10, 1943

Steve’s heart ached as he looked at the door. It was a normal apartment door, a little plaque with the number on it, above a peephole, but there was a little green ribbon held to the door with scotch tape. Bucky’s place. He remembered when Bucky had told him that you and him had gotten a place in the city. He was excited and said that he couldn’t wait for Steve to come over and see it. But that was before Bucky got sent to Germany. Before Steve joined Project Rebirth, before… Everything. He would be surprised if you recognized him right away. 

He knocked on the door. There was a thumping from inside the apartment, and he heard your voice say, “Motherfucker…” before the door opened. You looked good. Your skin was glowing, your hair was done, and you were even wearing makeup. Steve had always known you as very put together, but you were Bucky’s wife. You were beautiful to him. Confusion was etched across your face, and you slowly said, “Can I help you, sir?” 

Steve slowly took off his uniform hat. “You’re Mrs. Barnes?” he said, even though he knew the answer. There was a protocol to follow. The Army allowing him to be the one to deliver the news was enough of a breach. 

“Yes,” you said carefully. “Can I inquire as to who’s asking?” 

Steve cleared his throat. “Captain Steven Rogers,” he began, and your mouth dropped into a shocked look. “With the United States Army.”

“Stevie!” you cried, and you threw yourself at him. You knew that he had finally managed to join the Army and that he was sent to Germany as well, but you hadn’t had any correspondence with him. Bucky had stopped answering your letters and, while you feared the worst, you tried to keep your anxiety at bay. There was a reason, one that didn’t involve Bucky dying. There had to be. “Oh my God! You’re so… Big! I mean, I heard about the whole Project Rebirth thing and saw pictures of you, but… You’re taller than me now!”

Steve gripped you tightly. “I missed you too, Y/N,” he said softly. “Can I come in?” 

“Of course!” you exclaimed. “I mean, it’s just me and Alpine, but you’re always welcome here, Stevie. Can I make you a drink? There’s some cake in the kitchen…” 

Steve distantly listened to your chatter as he stepped into the apartment. It was warm and smelled like vanilla, and the walls were a pleasant beige with pictures. An official picture of Bucky hung in a nice frame right by the door, and Steve smiled at his best friend. “Cake?” he repeated suddenly, processing your words. 

“Yeah!” you replied. “Buck’s favorite birthday cake. I’ve made it for him every year and, even though he’s in Germany right now, it didn’t feel right not to make it, ya know?” 

Steve carefully sat down at the little wooden table in the kitchen, and he watched a fluffy white cat jump up to meet him. You served him a slice of cake on a pretty china plate, and you sat and buried your chin in your palm. “So what’s going on with you? Did you just get back?”

Steve couldn’t even bear to look at the cake. “No,” he said. “I have to go back in the morning.” 

“Oh,” you said, and your heart sank. “Is everything alright?” You pulled Alpine into your grip and gently stroked her back, and you watched Steve’s gaze falter between you and the cake. “Steve. Is something wrong?” 

Steve sighed, and his big shoulders sank. “A few months ago, Bucky and other soldiers in the 107th Infantry were taken as POWs. I led a team and we managed to rescue them. But then Bucky joined a squad that I was a part of, The Howling Commandos. As part of a mission with the Howlies, Bucky was--” 

“Stop,” you hissed. You set Alpine aside and stood up, and you pressed your knuckles to your mouth. You knew it. You knew that Stevie was too good to be true. He was there to deliver bad news, the worst news for a military wife to be told. You sighed and hung your head, and you whispered, “Is there a body, at least?” 

The chair creaked as Steve stood up, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. “We couldn’t locate one,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You sniffled. “An empty casket,” you mumbled. “An empty home, empty promises… Steve. Is there any hope that he’s alive? Even, like, infinitesimal? Even one percent?” 

Steve shook his head, blond bangs falling onto his forehead. “He fell from a train, Y/N,” he said carefully. “We couldn’t recover a body. If he is alive, then… I think that would be worse. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

Your legs felt weak, and you braced yourself on the table. Bucky was dead. Your greatest fear had been realized. “What do we do, Stevie?” you whispered. 

“We?” Steve asked. 

“He was your brother,” you said softly. “He had you when he had nobody else. I think you’re more important to him than me.”

“That’s not true,” Steve said simply. “I chose him, but he chose you. He chose you to live the rest of his life with. He was stuck with me.” 

You felt like a ghost as you walked into the living room and sat on the floor. You stared at everything, letting the silence gather around you. The coffee table was still crooked from where Bucky had last sat on the couch; his legs were longer and he always pushed it back to rest his feet. You fussed at him about it, but you didn’t actually mind it all that much. His favorite record was still on the player, playing empty static from when it had ended and you hadn’t flipped it over. Alpine had made a nest out of blankets on the couch, and you tilted your head when you saw that one of them was one that Bucky had made you. He was rather adept at knitting and had made it with yarn he had smuggled back to base, and it came in a package postmarked from Germany. You had referred to it as Bucky’s German blanket, but it was soft and smelled like him. You imagined him sleeping with the unfinished scraps every night. He was gone. He wouldn’t ever put his feet on the coffee table again. He wouldn’t ever get up with a grunt to flip his record and sweep you into his arms and dance with you. 

Steve came to sit next to you, and he put a heavy arm over your shoulders. “I managed to nab this from his stuff,” he began, clasping his hand with yours. “Figured you’d want it. He took it off before missions because he said he didn’t want it to get messed up, and it stayed with his bag. It takes forever to out-process a soldier’s personal belongings, and I… I knew you’d want it sooner rather than later.” 

A gold ring. The one you had put on Bucky’s finger that day. The wedding was beautiful for what it was. It wasn’t big by any means, just you and Bucky, Steve, and your mother. Your mother provided the veil and Bucky the rings, and Steve had picked a few flowers from his neighbors’ garden box. You had elected to get married at the courthouse rather than a church, and you remembered Bucky being flushed and giggling the entire time. You still wore your gold rings; you never took them off. 

You grasped Steve’s hand and gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, Stevie,” you whispered, and your tears finally fell. “It means a lot.” 

“You’ll see him again,” Steve told you. “I know you will.” 

You sighed and held the ring tightly in your palm. “I hope so.” 

March 10, 2023

The breeze was cold as it drifted off of the lake, and Bucky nestled further into his jacket. He was sure there was some level of impropriety to wearing a leather jacket to a funeral, but it was a last minute thing. He didn’t want to come. He felt like he was disrespecting Tony by being there, but Steve had talked him into it. The jacket was the only black thing he owned that covered his arm. 

“You sure you wanna go?” Sam asked again, and Steve scoffed. “I mean… There’s so much here.” 

“You know that’s a lie,” Bucky laughed. “There’s nothing here for Stevie.” 

“Or Bucky,” Steve added. “We’re not from here, Wilson. Not really, anyway. We belong… Somewhere else. Sometime else.” 

Sam nodded slowly. He knew that it was true. Steve and Bucky were better off back in the 1940s. “Buck,” he started. “Just… Be good to her.” 

Bucky turned to Sam. “Who?” he asked, even though he knew exactly who Sam was talking about. He had never once mentioned his wife to Sam, and he knew that Steve wasn’t one to tell. Any artifact that Bucky had of you had been lost to Hydra or time, and the only concrete thing he had was a little newspaper clipping that he kept tucked away: your name, listed in the obituary section. You were nearly a hundred when you were dusted five years ago. Bucky had Washington DC the first chance he had and had hunted down your name on the memorial. Y/N Barnes. Two simple words that had the weight of the universe crashing down on Bucky’s shoulders. Apparently, you had never remarried. You never had children. You had lived as a social worker, helping kids in the system go to good homes, and Bucky knew that he had chosen a good one 88 years ago.

“You say a woman’s name when you sleep sometimes,” Sam said. “Y/N… That’s why you’re going back, right? To see her?”

Even the sound of your name brought a smile to Bucky’s tired face. “Who told you that you could talk to me about my love life?” he asked, even though he was laughing and smiling now. “We’re work partners, remember? We’re not friends.” 

“Right, right,” Sam laughed, kicking a rock with his boot. “Just don’t do anything stupid while you’re gone. Neither of you. I don’t trust the two of you together… All kinds of shenanigans.” 

Bucky smiled at Steve. “How can we?” he asked. 

“You’re taking all the stupid with you,” Steve said, throwing a smile to Sam. “Be good, Wilson. Maybe get a hobby.”

“I hear knitting’s pretty nice,” Bucky said, and he took Steve’s hand to assist in climbing onto the platform. 

“Or baking,” Steve added. 

“Oh, man, I could do with a slice of cake,” Bucky chuckled. 

“Give it ten minutes,” Steve said. “You’ll get your birthday cake.” 

“Whoa, birthday?” Sam said. “Is it your birthday, Buck?”

“Don’t answer that,” Bucky snapped. 

“Jerk,” Steve mumbled. 

“Punk.” 

The sound of the machinery began to whir, and Sam called, “Happy birthday, old man!” 

And they were gone. 

March 10, 1949

You flitted around the apartment, stepping quickly to avoid the little grey kittens all over the floor. As much as you tried to keep them corralled in one place, kittens did what they wanted. The sun coming through the window kept the kitchen floor warm, and Alpine and her babies were often found lounging on the warm tiles. 

“Christ above, Jefferson, look at the mess you’ve made!” you exclaimed, bending down and picking up the little kitten. Jefferson was the second of five kittens, and he was the most rambunctious of the group. He was the one to skitter around the apartment at three with a sudden zest for life and, as cute as it was, it made your sleep schedule hell. The little kitten had wet food all over his face, and you quickly wiped him clean with the corner of your dress. “Need to get you a bib, you little wild man.” 

The doorbell rang, and a firm knock landed on the door simultaneously. “Coming!” you called, then, quieter, you said to Jefferson, “They really wanna see me, huh?” 

You kept Jefferson under your arm as you traipsed to the door, and you knew that Monroe and Buren were right underfoot; they always were. You could hardly walk anywhere without the risk of smushing a kitten. You really needed to get started on adopting these fellas out, but something about being the crazy widowed cat lady at the end of the hall seemed to suit you. The knock came again, harder, threatening to bust the door in two, and you huffed in annoyance. “I said I’m coming!”

You opened the door and pushed Monroe and Buren away with your foot. Little escape artists, they were. “Can I help you?” you asked, looking up to the man that stood there. 

He was familiar, but so distant. He had long, dark hair tied back, wrinkles around his eyes from exhaustion, dark hair around his mouth. He was all muscle underneath a buttoned shirt, and your eyes canvassed the weird shining metallic sleeve over his left arm. His mouth was slightly open as he looked at you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Hello?” you asked, raising your eyebrows expectantly. “Do you need anything?” 

“Y/N…” he started, and your body ran cold. “It… It’s you.” 

You quickly set Jefferson on the floor, and you closed the door behind you to prevent kittens from spilling into the hall. “James?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “You… Are you real?” 

Bucky laughed lightly, and he took your hand. He looked down at it, still wearing your rings, and he laughed again. “Oh, dollface,” he whispered, and he put his hands on your face. You flinched away from the sting against your cheek, and Bucky quickly pulled his left hand away. “You’re as pretty as the day I left you.” 

“Buck…” you said softly. “I can’t even begin to… How? I was told that you… You died, Bucky. How are you here?” 

“I’ll tell you, doll,” Bucky said. “I’ll tell you everything.” 

Bucky looked around the apartment as he stepped in, his eyes skating in wonderment. “Looks the same,” he said softly. 

“I couldn’t bear to change it too much,” you said softly. “Oh, umm, the white cat’s named Alpine, and all the others…” You gestured to the kittens littered around the room. “Jefferson, Monroe, Buren, Polk, and Pierce… I can’t tell them apart, really. Jefferson is the energetic one, and Monroe and Buren are always underfoot, but the rest--”

Bucky kissed you. You melted into his body, the way you always had, and you tugged him close by his hair and kissed back. You had missed him. Seven years was a hell of a long time to miss someone. You had almost forgotten the feel of his body against yours. He smelled just like himself, sounded like himself, and looked like himself (maybe a bit worse for wear than the last time you saw him, actually). “Bucky,” you whispered, and his arm went around your waist and pulled you against him even closer. His touch and grip was rougher than before, but that was war, you supposed. “Bucky, I just--”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry, doll. I got here as fast as I could.”

“I don’t need an excuse, love,” you told him. You had forgotten the way he looked at you, his blue eyes gazing at you like you had fixed the stars in his likeness, and you felt like the silly little girl back in high school who had a crush on a senior. “I don’t need anything.”

“Just me,” Bucky whispered. 

“Just you,” you agreed. You sighed and kissed him again, and your heart swelled. Your Bucky was finally home. “Actually, I do wanna know about--”

“The arm?” Bucky asked. 

“The hair,” you finished, twirling a dark strand around your finger. “But, yeah, I’m curious about the arm too.” 

“It’s a long story,” Bucky sighed. 

“‘Long’ as in ‘there’s a lot of moving parts’?” you asked. 

“‘Long’ as in ‘I’ve waited for 81 years to get you back’,” Bucky said, and he pushed your hair behind your ear with a deft metal finger. “‘Long’ as in ‘I was kidnapped by Nazis and frozen for decades’. ‘Long’ as in I traveled back in time to get you’. ‘Long’ as in… Just fucking long, doll. It’s gonna take me a while to tell the story.” 

Your mind was whirling, and you pulled him down to the couch. “So, you fought Nazis and time to get to me?”

Bucky shrugged slowly. “I mean, that’s a vast oversimplification, but, essentially, yeah.” 

You smiled. “You’re gonna need to explain this real slow,” you laughed. “I’ve never been as smart as you.” 

The smile that you had coveted for years was back. “You’re selling yourself short there,” Bucky said. “You’re the best girl I know. You’re my best girl, ya know that? The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” 

After years of crying tears of sorrow, your tears were of happiness. You were smiling and laughing, kissing Bucky and tasting his own salty tears. “Happy birthday, Buck,” you whispered. 

“Did you make a cake?” Bucky asked. 

You nodded. “Of course. Your favorite: vanilla sponge.”