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raeuberprinzessin · 10 months

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Making Amends - Fantasy - Prompt 16, Chapter 9

@felixmonth, @stainedglassm

Summary: For Felix Month 2021 - beware, the chapters are not in chronological order^^

When Felix loses a bet with his cousin, he has to make amends with Adrien’s friends. Well, at least this provides a good excuse to spent a lot of time with Adrien’s “very good friend”, a certain designer, who may or may not be described as tolerable … or cute. This may not be so bad. Yeah, not bad at all.

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"Don't worry, dude. Everything's chill between us. We both think - Ah, I mean, Felix and I are bros now. I mean, you're still my best bro, but you know. You get it, right?" Nino's rambling was almost as bad as Marinette's when she was nervous. At least that was Felix's opinion.

"That's great! I'm so glad you two get along!" was Adrien's reaction. He didn't even seem to notice that he barely escaped a word vomit. Instead, he gave his cousin a proud approving smile. Felix loved his cousin, he really did, but he would prefer him not to give him the look a pet owner gave their puppy for not shitting on the carpet.

That had been right after he made amends with the DJ. And as nice as it was to get along with Nino, simply by the law of the enemy of my enemy, he still had a long way to go. He knew that. He just had no idea how to continue.

“Well, your little stunt got Alya, Juleka, and Rosé akumatized. You already did something for Alya, which by the way is another stunt I will get both of you back for. As soon as I have more time,” Marinette declared, threateningly brandishing one of her colouring pencils like a sword. A very short cyan-blue sword. “But anyway, I’d advise you to continue with them. Although it probably doesn’t matter which one goes first. Rosé would probably be a bit more open, but I guess Juleka would be easier on you.”

“Rosé is the bubbly pink … girl? And Juleka is her goth friend?” he asked as he continued to note down what materials Marinette already had and how much. He barely stopped himself from using any derogatory term for the small blond and very, very pink classmate. The girl had too much energy, always talking and gesticulating. Her voice was so high and she was talking practically all the time and just everything about her was so … so … very not English. There was no better way to describe her.

Yeah, choosing her as his next target would not go well.

“So, Juleka it is,” he announced and turned to his friend. Since the theme for the silent auction was decided and Marinette said, she was fine with designing the costumes for everyone - fine his ass, he didn’t want her to do it, but nobody even took a second to listen to his very relatable concerns … -, she had been designing almost non-stop. And right now she just hummed as she added some accents to Max’s futuristic dolphin suit.

“I said,” Felix tried again leaning slightly over her, blocking the light, “I’ll continue with Juleka.”

“I heard you the first time and Felix, I swear to whatever unholy deity is willing to listen, probably Plagg, Trixx or Xuppu-”

“Not unholy,” the monkey kwami interjected. He sat on one of the ceiling beams and was doodling a few of his former holders’ transformations. Most of the kwamis had been very excited about the theme. Just Kaalki sat on Marinette’s bed, eating sugar cubes, watching interviews with celebrities and was all around sulking. And making nasty remarks about the dolphin kwami going by the name of Flipp.

“- if you don’t step out of my light, I will tie you up, throw you over my shoulder like one of our bags of flour, climb up onto my balcony and let you dangle there as if our house is a donkey and you’re the carrot. And don’t think I wouldn’t do that.”

On one hand, Felix knew it was a serious threat. On the other the mental image alone almost had him daring her to do as she said. But hanging from her balcony he wouldn’t get anything done and in the end, she would only regret what she said, since she just had a very short temper while designing. And he knew that. So, he stepped back and she turned back to her sketch with a slight huff, but he caught the little smile she unsuccessfully tried to hide.

“Fine. But, please, just tell me what I should do for Juleka,” he complained as he turned back to her materials.

“What makes you think I know?”

The blond snorted at that. “Of course you do! She’s your friend and you’re a bit scary with how much you know about your friends.” It was true. Marinette knew a lot about her friends. She even wrote their events down in her planner and now that he was in charge of her schedule she had him memorise those events as well so if he planned possible events that not only included both of them but also other classmates, nothing would coincide. But that wasn't a half-bad idea! Quickly he pulled out his phone to check his calendar app for any events Juleka had going on.

“You mean, like how I know that you’re hungry but won’t ask for the pain au chocolat with the dark chocolate Papa made especially for you, because you want to eat it with your five o’clock tea later and won’t allow your stomach to dictate when you eat something?” Felix looked up from his phone and stared at the girl. She just shrugged. “You have checked the time at least five times in the last half hour and that’s only what I have witnessed,” she explained. “Plus, I could almost see the saliva run down your chin when Papa told you about your favourite pastry.”

Felix audibly clapped the cover of his smartphone case shut and put his phone away. She was correct, of course, but he felt petty and unwilling to give her this win. “Just so you know, pain au chocolat is not my favourite. I like the mocha macarons better.”

“Oh? That’s good to hear, then I’ll give the pain au chocolat to Adrien tomorrow.”

Felix hissed at that. “Over my cold dead body!” he growled quite irritated but he instantly felt a bit soothed when he heard Marinette’s soft giggles. Of course, she wouldn’t do that. He knew that, but still, he was a bit miffed at the thought she might give something to someone else that was meant for him. Whether it be a pastry or his place in her life.

“Actually, this is just more proof, that you definitely know what I should do for your friend,” he tried to get back to the original topic. Marinette just hummed noncommittally. “Please, Marinette? You know, I need your help to do this making-amends-stuff. And it’s also a bit your fault I’m in this predicament.”

“Okay, first off: I did not tell you to make that stupid bet. That’s on you. You made a mistake and I hope you learned from it and it better not be to make sure that the odds are even more in your favour the next time-”

“Was there any other lesson to learn from that?”

Marinette heavily breathed through her nose when he interrupted her, so he decided to not add anything and to just let her say her part for now.

“Anyway, what I wanted to say is, that a part of this making-amends-stuff, as you called it, is that it should show that you are trying to be a better person. I will help you at some point, but first, you will have to put in some work. This is more than some homework you can finish and not think about again. Try to find out what Juleka’s fantasy is and what you could do to make her happy. Happy and grateful enough so she might accept that the bad behaviour from your last visit is not who you are.”

Having said what she wanted to say, Marinette turned back to her sketch and narrowed her eyes as she critically looked it over. She was done with their discussion.

***

Talking to Juleka turned out harder than he thought. He tried to start a conversation but she just mumbled something unintelligible and hid behind her hair. And Marinette just gave him an amused grin and a slightly raised eyebrow, letting him know that she still expected him to make an effort to find out what Juleka would like himself. Maybe he should pay for a few lessons of confidence training? She could definitely use it!

At the end of their lunch break, he still hadn’t made any progress and he was ready to ask Adrien to give him another punishment. He would get nowhere like this.

“You could use some help, am I right?” he heard a high voice ask and turned to the source. The pink flower girl, Rosé, stood there and gave him a small smile. The kind of smile someone gave out of embarrassment when they weren’t sure whether to smile or even say something.

“Yes, I could use some help, but Marinette has this idea that I have to put in the effort before she considers helping me.” He sighed and pulled an overly dramatic grimace. “Why is she one of my favourite people again?”

Rosé giggled and relaxed her posture slightly. “Probably because she sent me a message last night. Hey, Rosé, tomorrow Felix will try to find out what he could do for Juleka to make amends with her. I want him to try on his own at first, but if he hasn’t been successful when lunch is over, could you help him? He’s not a bad person, I promise. If you can’t trust him, trust me with this. Have a good night, see you tomorrow, Mari,” she read the message and looked back up. “Well, you don’t look like you had any success, so here I am. Also, you’re stressing out Juls with your attempts to approach her. Maybe we could meet at the library after school and brainstorm an idea?”

“That should be possible. I’ll just inform Marinette that I’ll come over later than planned. She’ll probably design first anyway and we can finish homework later.”

Rosé smiled and nodded. “Okay, see you then, Felix,” she bid goodbye and returned to her friend group. Finally a silver lining! And in the end, Marinette had helped him anyway, even if it was indirect. It was actually scarily smart. Before now he had thought Rosé was annoying, but now that he had talked to her, she didn’t seem that bad. Quirky and excitable maybe and if he had to spend long periods of time with her she would certainly be unbearably annoying after a while, but she seemed to be alright if he only had to interact with her for a limited amount of time. He wouldn’t have known that if Marinette hadn’t sent her his way.

Felix grabbed his bag and went to find his friend to tell her: Well played!

***

"Do you really think a new instrument is the best we can come up with?" Felix frowned as he looked at the list of ideas Rosé and he had come up with. He learned that Juleka liked music and played several instruments like everyone else in her family, although she preferred the bass guitar. She liked make-up and styling and had dyed her hair in different colours in the past.

"I guess it's the best thing that's possible and not just some fantasy," Rosé answered doodling a little cute kitty next to the list of ideas. "A fantasy?" What did she mean by that? In a city that got attacked by a magical supervillain and his butterflies almost daily - and got saved by two teenagers with magical jewellery just as often - he would think anything fantastical wouldn't seem quite as out of reach. "You know, if you have another idea, just say it. Even if you don't think there's anything I can do. Maybe we can think of something that's close enough or I can make sure to at least turn a part of this fantasy into reality," he offered after he had a few moments to think about it.

"Are you sure?"

Felix gave her a small self-assured grin. "I better be!"

Rosé giggled at that and began to tell him about the curse her girlfriend only recently broke.

***

“What do you say?” It was a bit later in the afternoon and Felix had just told Marinette about the idea Rosé and he had come up with. “That should be possible, right?”

Marinette sat at her desk but turned to face him. She fiddled around with some ballpoint pen, rolling it thoughtfully between her thumb and her index finger.

“Maybe,” she finally answered, “but the last time Juleka tried to model for me, she got very nervous. Alya was a bit pushy because she convinced Adrien to help out as well and that’s why we had a time limit. In the end, I was pushed to model with him and Juleka got akumatized. Do you have any plan for what to do if Juleka gets anxious again?”

“Well, not inviting these two might be a good start for now.” He didn’t intend to have them there, but this just confirmed his thoughts on the matter. “I could also take the shots myself. I have some experience behind a camera and I imagine having a professional photographer there would mean more stress to her. I could even try to not be seen by her.”

“You mean, you would hide in the bushes and on trees?” Marinette asked slowly. She gave him a look as flat as a sheet of paper. And to be honest, hearing it like this, it sounded … weird in the best case.

“No, I think I better not do that.”

“No,” Marinette agreed sagely, “you better not.”

***

Felix wasn’t sure how he thought Juleka would react, but he didn’t expect her to look like a cornered little bunny.

“You- you want me to model some of Marinette’s designs? Don’t you remember, what happened last time?”

“Oh Juls,” Rosé whispered and hugged her friend. “That’s exactly why we want to have a do-over! Don’t let that one bad memory stop you from doing something you really want to do!”

“We hope to create a less stressful situation this time,” Felix offered. “It would be just you, Rosé, Marinette, and I. I will also shoot the photos. So, there will only be people you have at least talked to already. This could be the foundation of a portfolio if you want to do more modelling gigs. Also …” Felix looked around and after not seeing the lying girl anywhere near them, he leaned a bit in and lowered his voice, “considering other people who confidently model and who have less than half as much reason to be as confident in their looks as you should be, you really should do this. Always remember: If you would like to do something but you wonder if you are qualified enough, rest assured that there is at least one unqualified person who does exactly this.”

Juleka still looked a bit hesitant, but finally, she nodded.

***

Felix should have known. Of course, it would have just been too easy, if they could just get to the location and take the photos.

Some students from her brother’s school recognised Juleka and immediately crowded around her. Rosé was so excited for her friend, she told them about the photoshoot and they asked if they could stay. They wanted to help and watch.

After all this excitement Juleka’s confidence took a nose-dive. She was nervous and stiff and looked like she was forced to do this at gunpoint. Felix only took half a dozen pictures before he decided this didn’t make any sense.

“The only fantasy I see in these pictures is her fantasy of running away and hiding,” Felix whispered as he stood next to Marinette and showed her the pictures. His friend gave them a critical look, but finally, she sighed and gave him the camera back.

“Well, at least they seem to be genuinely supportive. That’s not the worst-case scenario. But maybe we should still reschedule?”

Felix shook his head. “We won’t have enough time if we don’t get the pictures by the end of the week.”

Marinette frowned at him. “Why the time limit?” she wanted to know. Felix hadn’t told her, but he had sort of planned another surprise for Juleka, but he hadn’t told anyone. He didn’t want to put more pressure on Juleka or disappoint any hopes he might spark, should it not work out as he planned. But maybe he should tell Marinette now?

“The modelling agency you work with has a youth program and I know someone working there because he used to work for my acting agency. I showed him the class photo and he agreed to take a look at Juleka’s portfolio. And if he could get the portfolio by the end of the week, he might be able to get Juleka into their summer program. This would-”

“Felix, I have to interrupt you.”

Marinette cut him off with a raised hand and a pensive expression. “We don’t even know if Juleka would want this. I agree, it’s an amazing opportunity and Juleka deserves this chance. I appreciate how much thought and work you put into this and I’m sure Juleka would, too.”

“But-?”

Marinette’s lips twitched into a tiny smile. “Still,” she continued, emphasising the word to point out that she was not using a but, “I think you should talk to her before you show the pictures to anyone else. She’s surrounded by people who support her and she is this anxious. Could you imagine how violated she might feel if she learns afterwards that some stranger saw the photos without her consent?”

Felix couldn’t precisely understand why Juleka might be hurt. He was usually ecstatic when he learned people saw his work. But Marinette knew the girl better. Maybe she really wouldn’t want that. The boy decided he should talk to Juleka first, but when he looked around he couldn’t see her anywhere.

“Mari.”

“Give me a moment, I’m texting Luka. I’m sure he can calm her down.”

“Amazing idea. Maybe he can also tell us where she likes to hide?”

The young designer looked up and let her gaze wander over everyone present as well. She couldn’t find her friend but only a moment later they both noticed something else. “Merde!”

“With baked beans on toast,” Felix added with a nod. “Alright, you find a place for your glam up and I try to find our model before Mothbreath does.” With this Felix followed the little black butterfly. It was surprising enough that nobody else seemed to notice the akuma. Rosé talked to those other students about the band she and Juleka played in. If he had to guess, he would say she tried to keep their attention from her friend. Only, Rosé did it too well, so she didn’t notice anyone leaving.

Felix followed one of the paths for a bit until he found a hair clip near the edge of the grass. It was black and pretty simplistic, but he was sure he had watched earlier as Rosé used this clip to keep Julekas hair out of her face.

He looked around and noticed that there was a shortcut towards the toilets if he walked over the grass compared to the gravel path. Of course, an upset girl would run to the toilet. He should have learned this from Marinette by now!

With a deep sigh, Felix cursed Hawk Moth and public toilets and the fact that he would still do what he had to do. To put one over on Mothbreath and so Juleka wouldn’t be reminded of past traumatic events.

He didn’t usually storm the ladies’ room, but this also wasn’t a usual situation. He was faster than the akuma and skidded in front of a still pretty upset Juleka.

“Not her!” he hissed, watching the flying pattern of the black insect. “Not today!”

Felix heard the scared sobs Juleka tried to suppress. As if the butterfly could hear her and take control of her if she was too loud.

“Juleka, please listen to my voice,” he begged while internally praying that Ladybug would soon appear. “Take deep breaths. Concentrate on your breath on the feeling of your lungs expanding when you breathe in and contracting when you breathe out. You’re doing great! Ok, Juleka, do you think, you can listen? Hawk Moth can only control you if you think the power he offers is the only way out for you. Do you understand me? You don’t need his power. I think the fact that you are here is proof that you are so much stronger than he is. Do you want to hear my theory on why he mainly akumatizes teens and children?” Felix didn’t wait for an answer. Giving the girl something else to focus on seemed to be as good a plan as anything else.

“Teens and children haven’t had the chance to learn a few important life lessons. It’s a lot more likely that a situation seems hopeless to them. Hawk Moth thinks they are the best targets. Easy victims. I don’t think you’re a victim and I’m offended Mothbreath would dare to think this!”

A surprised little laugh sounded behind him and Felix felt a tiny part relax slightly.

“Mothbreath?” Juleka whispered.

“Yeah. I’m also convinced the akumas are created by his burps.” This was improvised, but he heard the girl giggle softly. The dark butterfly seemed to be scandalised by his words and left the restroom through a window. Felix felt himself finally relax. He was confident that Ladybug would be able to do the rest.

“Thank you. I … I really didn’t want to be akumatized again. I just get so anxious when so many people expect something from me. What if I disappoint them? Rosé and Luka’s friends were so excited for me and you organised everything and Mari agreed to let me model some of her designs. And my dad loves her designs and I just know that he would make this big deal about this. And if I end up having this portfolio and people immediately see through me and know I’m not an actual model? After all, most pictures of me end up being awful!”

No, no, you can’t get upset again, just when I was able to calm you down a bit! Felix tried frantically to come up with an idea.

“I just don’t want to disappoint everyone if I can’t do it,” Juleka added faintly not knowing how her words sparked an idea in the blond boy. Felix remembered himself saying something very similar many years ago. Reaching a decision he carefully looked out the door and saw Ladybug de-akumatizing that pigeon guy and joking with her cat boy. Seems as if Hawk Moth had to use the akuma one way or another and the pigeon guy was the only other option. He hoped Mothbreath bumped his tiny toe when he kicked something, angry about his newest loss and his stupidity.

“Look, over there is a bench, let’s sit for a moment,” he offered and pointed to a wooden bench not far away. Juleka nodded and followed him there. He took a moment to sort through his thoughts.

“Many years ago, when I had my first acting role, I said something similar. I was afraid I wouldn’t get it right and would be replaced by another, more experienced child actor, which would surely disappoint my family. One of the assistant cameramen found me and sat down with me. He told me that even though people may think otherwise, a camera doesn’t capture reality. This goes for acting and modelling. Shortly after my aunt disappeared, there was an interview and a photoshoot with Adrien. In the interview, they praised how brave my cousin was, because he could still smile for the camera. I like to think that I know my cousin well enough to know that he didn’t feel like smiling or brave in any way and this interview is just another reason I owe my uncle a kick in the crotch. He hid and mostly still hides in his obscenely large house and Adrien had to manage on his own, while the media hunted him down because stories and pictures of the son of the mysteriously vanished wife of a failed designer sold well.” He took a deep breath, to get back on topic.

“What I’m trying to say is, that in front of a camera, you can be whoever you want to be. It’s not Juleka, the girl who had a photo curse. When you’re in front of the camera, it’s Juleka, the model. If it would help you, you can have a pseudonym.”

“Do you have a pseudonym?”

“No,” he answered but pulled a piece of cloth out. “Back then, a friend gave me a piece of cloth she had used to practise stitching. I could hide it in the pocket of my costume. With it, I had an easier time getting into character.”

“Was Mari this friend?” she asked and finally there was a soft smile on her lips. She knew the answer, which is why Felix only smirked but didn’t answer. She snorted at that. “So, who are you playing if you have it with you now?”

“Initially I thought I would play the photographer, but it seems I also picked up the role of a civilian hero and your coach. This reminds me …”

Felix raised the hand in which he still held the hair clip she lost earlier.

“I think you lost this. It’s not a talisman made by Marinette, but then again, what else is? And I’m sure, Rosé will be more than happy to supply you with your own talisman. May I?” Felix didn’t comment on how Juleka blushed when he mentioned her girlfriend. Instead, he motioned to the hair that was hiding half her face. He leaned forward and fixed the hair clip so her hair would be held back.

“See? Now I can only see the model of today’s photoshoot. Before we go back, Marinette scolded me and told me, I should tell you before: I know someone working for a modelling agency with a youth program because he worked for my acting agency when I started out. He said he would be happy to take a look at the photos we shoot today and maybe he could get you into their summer program if we can show him the photos by the end of the week. Initially, I only wanted to tell you if everything worked out, but Marinette thought it’s more important that you are okay with someone else seeing your photos. What do you think?” Felix watched her and carefully tried to take note of every twitch that might tell him if she felt uncomfortable with the idea. Of course, he wanted to respect her wishes and if she didn’t dare to outright tell him, she didn’t like the idea, he wanted to be able to offer her a way out.

But he was worried for no reason because he could see determination steel her face and she gave him a brave nod. “That sounds like an amazing opportunity, Felix. Thank you. But, you know, now I really expect you to shoot amazing pics!” She gave him a small smirk and he returned it as he stood up.

“Perfect! Then let’s return to the location!”

***

When Felix saw his uncle later that day he was walking with a limp and when he asked his cousin what happened, he told him that Garbiel had bumped his tiny toe somewhere.

Huh! Well, it didn’t hit someone undeserving, Felix decided and revelled in the petty feeling of schadenfreude.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #felinette #felinette fanfic #felix month 2021 #marinette x felix #rich!marinette #felix redemption #bamf marinette #Hexxe: Making Amends

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sambvcks · 3 years

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crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter one // body’s working on empty

summary: bucky isn’t as receptive to this new life of his as everyone had hoped. he’s cold, sharp-tongued, and closed off. except to the tenant across the hallway from him, who always wears pajamas and bakes a dozen too many of his favorite cookies

warnings: food, nothing too bad this chapter!

word count: 1.5k-ish

author’s note: i thought my marvel phase ended five years ago...here we are again. i haven’t written in awhile so please be kind! title and chapter titles taken from hozier’s ‘work song’.

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

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Five minutes into their first session, Bucky decided he was going to make Dr. Raynor’s job as difficult as he possibly could.

It wouldn’t be an impossible task, seeing how this whole ordeal depended on him opening up and talking, two things that he had abandoned decades ago. Her unwavering stare was nothing more than a challenge, these fifty-minute sessions once a week were nothing more than a slight inconvenience to his lackluster day to day routine. He would play along, do whatever exercises she asked, and feign stability until he never had to see her again.

“Since this is our first session together, we’ll take it easy.” She promised with a forced upturn of her lips before whipping out her notebook.

Suddenly, it felt like he was encased in bulletproof glass in Berlin again. He remembered that the last time he had been forced into receiving psychiatric help, it hadn’t exactly gone to plan. His chin fell to his chest, hands wringing together as he thought of any excuse to request a different doctor.

“Let’s begin.”

It was already getting too hot to wear leather gloves and his heavy jacket. New York’s heatwave was supposed to be the highest on record this year and while kids popped open fire hydrants in the street, Bucky would be settled on the hardwood floor in the back corner of his apartment, waiting.

Waiting for what, he wasn’t quite sure.

It was a fairly nice apartment, newly renovated and practically barren. Government issued and funded, of course, and he had spent the first night pulling the furniture from the walls to the center of the room in search of bugs and cameras. He found thirty-four, destroyed them under a rolling pin, and they hadn’t come to replace them. Message received.

The one thing he really liked about the apartment building were his neighbors. The price tag for a one bedroom was substantial to say the least and only older couples could really afford it. No children, no dogs, no outsiders. The only break from his undisturbed routine would be occasionally helping Mrs. Johnson down the hall carry her groceries as she struggled to get the door unlocked with her brittle hands.

They affectionately called him James and the older women were quick to get a hold of his arms, saying things like “They don’t make them like you anymore, James!”. He swallowed the bile prickling at the back of his throat as he nodded, and they moved on to telling him about their single granddaughters.

It was almost nice, his routine. Almost.

Outside of those small encounters, he spent most of his waking hours jogging in the park and cooking the same three meals. He had his appointment every Wednesday with Dr. Raynor, but that was it. He’d take two trains back to his apartment and wouldn’t emerge again until he needed groceries two days later.

It was when he was returning from one of his biweekly grocery trips, a paper bag settled on his hips, that he spotted you outside his door.

He stilled in the hallway, taking a quick step back to peek around the corner without being spotted. His breath stalled, his ears picking up your soft humming and the crinkle of plastic as you set a bundle of cookies at his doorstep, the only one without a mat. His eyes flicked to the other doors, where identical bags of cookies sat propped up, tied with blood red ribbons.

His shoulders relaxed. No threat.

The bottom of his grocery bag suddenly gave way, fruit rolling in every direction. Bucky fell to his knees, glove clad hands snatching up everything he could reach as quickly as he could manage. You were faster, though, and scooped up a plum that had rolled your way, offering it over as he tried to balance the rest of his groceries in his arms.

“Thanks.” He was quick to sweep past you, hand digging in his pockets for his key.

“James, right? Ms. Robinson downstairs is like, in love with you.”

“Yeah, but, uh-“ Dr. Raynor’s instructions from their last session rang in his head, as much as he tried to tune her out: make connections. “You can call me Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “And Mrs. Robinson is far too good for me.”

“Bucky it is then.” You trailed him down the hallway, “Y/N.”

Bucky tried to sneak a glance at you from the corner of his eyes, which was harder to inconspicuously do now that he had gotten a haircut and couldn’t hide his wandering eyes behind long tresses. Young was Bucky’s first thought. much younger than the other renters in the building. Bright was next, followed by much too smiley for a Tuesday morning.

Pretty, he admitted as he turned his back to unlock his door. Maybe in another life he would have lingered in the hall, his so-called effortless charm seeping through as you swooned at the very thought of a date with James Buchanan Barnes. But that life was long gone, and instead he rushed to retreat.

“Oh, don’t forget these.” You swooped down to collect the bundle of cookies you had left at his door, handing them to the hand that wasn’t delicately balancing the pile of groceries he still held against his impossibly broad shoulders. “Oatmeal raisin, super-secret family recipe.”

He was back in the doorway of his ma’s kitchen, watching his little sister balance on a wobbling stool as she struggled to crack and egg with her little fingers. He can so distinctly see the pale green of the cabinets, remember the fight his parents had when she begged for that shade of green while his dad had wanted white. Of course, she won.

“These are your brother’s favorite.” His ma whispered to his sister; her flour covered hands reaching for the age faded index card with their grandmother’s script detailing the ingredients. “Our family’s recipe. One day, you will make these for your children. And your children’s children.”

Rebecca, still so young and with a hatred for smelly boys deep in her bones, giggled at the mere thought as her fingers fished out the bits of eggshell that snuck their way into the bowl. She wiped it away on the spare apron tied twice around her waist, much too big for her.

Bucky would never see her grow into it. He would be drafted only a few months later.

In the meantime, he would bundle half a dozen of them in a tea towel and split them with Steve on the walk to the movie theater. Steve would begrudgingly admit that Buck’s ma made the best cookies, but his made the best brisket. They’d sneak in through the back door and do it all again the next weekend, until they ran out of weekends together.

“Oatmeal raisin are my favorite.” He admitted, accepting your offering like a stray cat does to the first scrap of food from a stranger.

“I think you’re the only person under the age on one hundred to ever say that.” You teased, backing away to the door adjacent to his, “Anyway, don’t tell me things like that. I’m a stress baker and with finals coming up…” You winced at the image of the dozens of batches you would surely be whipping up in the coming weeks.

“Finals?”

“Law school, one semester left.” You fished your own keys from your back pocket. Bucky barely held in the scoff at the shiny Spider-Man keychain that dangled from your fingers. “You?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t been in school in what feels like…a century.”

“Well, I’m all alone here and as much as I would love to, I can’t eat everything that I bake. So, expect a few dozen muffins and cookies every few days.”

“No arguing from me, doll.”

You both lingered in the small hallway, only a few steps apart, each leaning against your respective doors. Keys in each hand, with no intention of using them any time soon.

“Law school, you said? How do you afford a place like this?” Bucky was sure he was the only recently pardoned fugitive under this room.

“Well, this used to be my grandma’s apartment and it was handed down to me in a maybe no so legal way. If the landlord asks, I’m an eighty-year-old woman who doesn’t know how to work her answering machine.”

He huffed a laugh, mostly because that wasn’t particularly far from how he felt with today’s tech. The flip phone that Dr. Raynor had described as archaic sat heavy in his back pocket with only three names programed into his contacts. Don’t get him started on his television.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

With that, you each stepping into your respective apartments. Bucky stalled at his door for a moment, listening as you locked and dead bolted your door behind you. He sighed, dumping his half-ruined groceries on his barren kitchen island.

The next day, he’d have another appointment with Dr. Raynor. This time when he’d say I’m trying, as he did each week, it wouldn’t be a complete lie. His phone buzzed in his back pocket.

2 New Messages

From: Sam

You coming up this weekend?

Don’t ignore me this time. He’s getting worse, Buck.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #crawl home to her #sab writes

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bobohu4eva · 3 years

Text

Sweet Tooth (Part 3)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, mutual pining

Summary: Life as the palace baker got a lot more interesting after catching the devastatingly cute prince sneaking around your kitchen.

WC: 5.1k

Tag List: @wooya1224 @dixnysustae @bbhile @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @leave-me-in-the-summertime @baekyeonoreo @cupreoussyzygy @nana-banana

Masterlist

Baekhyun stayed true to his word. He kept you company almost every other day, usually just watching, talking, and snacking on whatever leftovers there would be.

It had taken several more visits for you to truly start opening up to him. Luckily his looks and his silliness balanced each other quite well, making him less and less intimidating the more you saw of him and the more he got comfortable with you as well.

You were surprised when he told you that he was actually a couple years older than you. It wasn’t that you found him immature, but he just had that optimistic boyishness to him that made him appear much more youthful.

Sometimes he would say things that worried you. Usually remarks about his family or his status as a prince. He never wanted to talk about it past those fleeting remarks though, quickly putting back on a smile and asking you about whatever you were baking that day. He seemed like the kind of person who would rarely let any negative emotions show, pushing them down and making jokes to try to make it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Sometimes you thought about pushing it, and trying to get him to talk to you about it. He was your friend, and you worried about him. But on the other hand, he was the prince. You had no right to try and force your way into his family’s business like that. He would come to you if he really needed you, you hoped at least.

You didn’t get nervous about his visits anymore. You had actually started to look forward to them quite a bit. He was a true friend. An annoyingly beautiful one.

In a way, you got used to that too. Of course you still couldn’t help being attracted to him, but you were able to fight it better now and act much more normal. You had really tried, and didn’t have a single mess up in front of Baekhyun since your tart accident. You just had to try a little extra hard when he was around, but that was okay. You took it as a challenge. After years of always doing the same thing having him there was still a nice way to spice things up.

You knew you had a crush, you were just learning to deal with it better.

Today was particularly busy. All morning you’d been preparing for some kind of event and Baekhyun just sat on his little stool across the table from you as you worked, occasionally asking if he could try something or why you did a certain thing. He knew that on busy days, it was better to stay out of your way. He always offered to help, insisting that you could just tell him what to do at any time, but that felt too weird.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help? I feel bad just sitting here.”

This was probably the busiest he’d ever seen you. It must’ve been a pretty big event you were preparing for and you had no time to waste, trying to get things done as quickly and carefully as possible.

“Don’t feel bad.”

First it was the sugar, then the flour. You ran out. You needed to go haul two giant bags up the stairs from the basement. You groaned.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I just have to grab new bags of flour and sugar.” You yelled over your shoulder as you made your way towards the stairs to the basement.

He followed you and you rolled your eyes, pretty certain you knew what was coming next, and it would not be good for your already weak heart.

As expected, he immediately scolded you for not asking him to just help out and ended up carrying both bags up the stairs for you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want the help, it was really nice, but especially things like this that involved heavy lifting made you feel too much like some sort of damsel in distress and the fact that he felt such a need to always help out only made your crush worse and worse. It would’ve been easier to handle if he wasn’t always so nice and considerate.

“Why do you always do that?” He asked once you were back at your work table.

“Do what?”

“You never ask me for help even if you know it’s something I could do more easily than you. You always try to do it yourself until I notice it and go to help. You know sometimes I really worry that you just never get jars open by yourself if I’m not here.”

You grinned at his usual antics, “You know Baekhyun, I did this for years all on my own before you decided to pop in on me, I can handle myself.”

He shot you an accusing look. “So you’re saying that before I showed up, the jars would magically open themselves? No assistance needed? Or when you had to get one of those giant bags out of the basement? They would just float up the stairs? Come on, Creampuff, don't lie to me.”

It was surprising to you how much he seemed to like that nickname, and he especially liked to use it when he was teasing you.

Of course he was right, there were times when you couldn’t open a jar or there was an especially large bag of sugar that you couldn’t get up the stairs on your own. But he wasn’t the only one there to help. “Well I can also just go next door to the cooks and ask one of the guys there to do it for me too.”

His jaw seemed to tense before he spoke up again. “But you ask them for help, you never ask me though.”

You swallowed. That was also true, but it wasn’t for whatever reason he probably thought, asking him for help seemed like a boundary you didn’t want to cross, for a number of reasons. For one, he was the prince, and therefore you worked for him, not the other way around. It also made you feel too strange with how bad your crush had gotten, you didn’t want to seem like you were prying for his attention so you always tried as hard as you could to do things by yourself first. But he probably shouldn’t know about the second reason.

“Well I work for you, you don’t work for me. It’s not your job to come here and help me carry things and open jars.”

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbled. “It’s not their job either.”

He seemed oddly down after that but you didn’t have any time to dwell on it with how busy you were so you let him be. You decided to just focus on the task at hand, and let him eat some leftover icing so he wouldn’t talk so much. As much as you appreciated it on boring days, Baekhyun could be pretty damn chatty and on days like this one where there was a lot to do it could be a bit taxing having to talk to him too, no matter how much you enjoyed his company. If he was just another guy it would’ve been a different story but having to focus on talking to him and not saying anything dumb on top of all your work was a lot. Despite being much more comfortable with him now, he was still your friend that you were growing more and more attracted to, to the point where even just saying it was a crush seemed like an understatement.

You felt that disgustingly sweet, heart fluttering sensation that had been plaguing you for weeks now when you focused your attention back to him, watching as he scooped up icing with his finger before sticking it into his mouth.

Crush wasn’t a good enough word. You felt stupidly, helplessly infatuated, to the point where just watching him messily eat his icing had you working way too hard to fight the smile that was forcing its way to your lips.

Unfortunately Baekhyun caught on to these things quickly. Unlike you, he had nothing better to do in that kitchen than watch you as you worked, so he noticed every smile, every eye roll, and every time he would make you blush.

You assumed he knew, he just had to by now, with how bad you were at hiding how he made you feel. You’d accepted that, and that he didn’t see you the same way. You were just friends and he probably thought it was cute that you had a little crush on him, the silly little baker girl who liked the prince too much. But you knew it was best to keep it at that.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked as he once again licked a scoop of icing off his finger.

You shook your head, still smiling and looking down at what you were working on.

“I wish my mom would smile like that when I eat too instead of telling me I’m an embarrassment.”

He sounded far too lighthearted as he said it, as usual. It had been bothering you for weeks now. You knew you probably shouldn’t, but you asked anyway.

“Baekhyun, you don’t have to tell me anything, because it’s not my business anyway, but why do you say things like that? Sometimes I really worry about you.”

You had stopped kneading your dough, eyes remaining fixed on the soft mass beneath your hands, not trusting yourself to look up at him.

“You worry about me?”

Still looking down at your hands, you gave him a small nod.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m a big boy, I’ve been dealing with this my whole life.”

When you finally looked up and met his gaze he was giving you a soft smile, although you could see the hint of sadness in his cute droopy eyes.

“I just want you to know that you can talk to me if you need someone.” The words came out too quietly, but you meant it. It made you sad to hear him say such things and you wanted to be there for your friend.

All the sadness left his face when his cheeks pulled up into a grin, his eyes turning into the cutest half-moon shapes. “Aww, you really do worry about me.”

These were the type of things that made you so sure that he knew your little secret. His teasing you when you got flustered around him, and now this too. It almost felt a bit cruel at this point, that he knew how you felt and he still teased you about it like it was nothing. “You’re so mean.” You pouted, returning your attention back to your dough.

“How am I mean? I remember when we first met you thought I was the nicest.”

“You say stuff like that and then when I get worried you make fun of me for it.” You wanted to add something along the lines of ‘You also get a kick out of my stupid unrequited crush on you’ but you held your tongue. “Am I supposed to listen to you say those things and just not care?”

His brows furrowed at your question, and he paused for a minute.

“I didn’t realize you would care, at least not so much.”

Was he really this blind? This clueless?

“Of course I care Baekhyun, you said it yourself, we’re friends. Friends care when someone says things like that.”

“Oh..” His face had shifted into something you hadn’t seen before. “Then I’m sorry I worried you.”

You weren’t quite sure what it was, but he seemed genuinely taken aback by what you were telling him. It didn’t make any sense to you considering how obvious it was that you liked him, but you couldn’t exactly just say that either.

“You don’t need to feel bad. Like I said, I want to be able to help if you need someone to talk to. I’m here for you.”

You smiled when you saw him smile, his emotions rubbing off on you so easily with how much you cared for him.

“Thank you, y/n. I appreciate that a lot, really.”

As sweet as the moment was, you still had a lot of work to do. You gave him another smile and got back to what you were doing, and he stayed quiet as well. Eventually Baekhyun had somewhere else he needed to be and he excused himself and left, after sweetly thanking you again for your friendship and your kindness. There was so much about his actions that you didn’t understand, but you wanted to learn, to get to know him better and to really figure the guy out.

A couple hours after Baekhyun left you were finally done for the day, and as you were leaving the kitchen you found a small note where you always hung up your apron at the end of the day.

“Meet me in the garden at half past midnight, at the bench where you like to sit and read. That’s a royal order. - B”

You checked the clock again before slipping out of your room as quietly as possible, heart pounding in your chest in anticipation. Why Baekhyun had asked you to meet him so late was beyond you, and hundreds of possibilities, good and bad, flooded your mind with you powerless to stop it. The nervous giddyness you felt before he would show up at the bakery was nothing compared to this. What if you got caught? What would you say? What if he got caught? Or worst of all, if both of you were caught?

Despite your nerves, you had to go. Standing him up would feel too awful anyway, since you really did want to see him. And either way, you couldn’t disobey a royal order. You had never interacted with him outside your little bakery space, where people were popping in and out all the time and there was no real privacy for the two of you to talk about more serious matters.

You tried to walk through the halls as quietly as possible, unsure of if and where there were guards. Luckily it wasn’t too far from where you stayed to the gardens and you were already outside of the castle, feeling the warm spring air on your skin as you made your way towards your favorite spot to read.

Despite the darkness you could already make out the silhouette of your friend as he sat on the bench waiting for you. You smiled looking around at your surroundings. You had never been in the garden at night before, but the soft glow from the castle over the lush spring flowers in the dim light was breathtaking.

As you got closer you saw him stand up, and start walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He kept getting closer, and you expected him to stop but before you could fully process what he was doing, both of his arms were wrapped around you in a tight hug and he held you close.

For a second you stopped breathing completely, but after a couple seconds when reality sunk in you were able to catch your breath. Baekhyun was hugging you. And it wasn’t just some wimpy half assed side hug either, both of his arms were wrapped firmly around your back as he held you against his chest. Your whole body suddenly felt very hot.

“Baekhyun?” You said softly, bringing your arms up and around him as well.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” You heard him whisper.

If your heart rate had been a bit high earlier already, you were surely in danger now. And with your chest pressed against his own, of course he noticed, he always did.

You pulled back but his hands stayed on your shoulders and he looked down at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just jumpy, I was really scared of getting caught on my way down here.” You lied, trying to avoid eye contact with the close proximity of your faces. He moved his thumb, gently running it over your collarbone and you felt his eyes on you when it made you gasp slightly.

“Aww poor Creampuff.” He cooed, making you pout back at him. “After midnight there’s only one guard left outside the castle, and he stays on the other side, near the main gates, not back here in the gardens. We’re totally safe, I promise.”

You tried to act like that helped reassure you but there were still a thousand other little things running through your mind about him. You decided you just had to start asking the man if you wanted answers.

“Baekhyun, why did you ask me to meet you here? Isn’t this a bit foolish?”

He grabbed your hand and led you to sit down on the bench next to him. “Maybe it is, but since we’re friends I think there are some things I want you to know.”

You had been so caught up in your own worries that you hadn’t even noticed how nervous he looked too. When you sat down with him you were surprised when his hand stayed firmly intertwined with yours. His hand was soft and warm and felt just right holding yours.

He looked down at the ground and the hand that held your own rested between you on the bench.

“Baekhyun?”

He was the one acting shy now. This beautiful person who was also so far above you in so many ways, seemed genuinely nervous.

“I’m sorry if this is strange for you, I’m not quite sure what to say, I’ve never had someone I can talk about these things with.”

He was still looking nervously down at his feet so you decided to scoot a bit closer and face your body towards his. When you were looking at him, and gently squeezed his hand which was still holding yours, he finally looked up at you.

“What things? You asked. “About your family?”

He nodded. “I don’t even know where to start. Do you know how much I envy you? You get to do something you like every day and you’re so good at it too. There’s nobody telling you you have to be something you’re not.”

His eyes had drifted to the garden around you as he spoke, and his grip on your hand only grew stronger.

“What do you mean?”

You had an idea, albeit a very vague one, of what was wrong, from the things he’d said to you in the bakery. Often it was about disappointing his mother, other times it was something implying how he’d never be able to live up to his older brother.

“I never asked to be born into royalty. I know that it seems horribly ungrateful for me to complain, because I have so much and so many people would love to be in my position, but I’m just not cut out to be a prince.”

You felt the weight of his words sinking in as he spoke to you, looking at you with a newfound seriousness you weren’t yet familiar with.

“I wish I could be what they want me to be, like my brother is, but whenever I try I usually end up making a fool of myself or do something that makes my mom mad. I don’t know how he does it, he’s so good at all this stuff it makes me feel even worse for being so shit at everything. I just wish I could do something with my life that actually makes me happy.”

His voice was growing more and more shaky and you had no clue what you could possibly say back to him when he was hurting so badly, over something you’d never be able to fully experience or understand. Eventually you mustered up a meager “I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s probably hard for you to understand, but that’s a good thing, really. I wouldn’t wish this upon anyone.”

He looked so defeated and your heart ached for him, wishing you could somehow help, but knowing there was nothing you could do.

“Baekhyun, you aren't ungrateful and it’s okay to mess up, I can’t even imagine how much pressure you must be under, of course that’s hard.”

A small smile tugged at his lips briefly but disappeared as quickly as it arose. His eyes looked glassy. You wanted nothing more than to be able to comfort him, to protect him from everything that made him sad. He was so lovely and he deserved so much more than this.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever talked about this with, aside from my brother, but talking to him isn’t much help. I wish I could just be like the rest of them, and fit in with my family and the nobility without having to try so hard.”

His hand left yours and moved to wipe away the wetness in his eyes. When he didn’t lace his fingers back between your own, you took his hand and did it yourself, resting your hands on your thigh. “I don’t wish you were like the rest of them. I like you like this.”

It came out as barely a whisper, but with all his attention on you in that moment he heard you clear as day. He stared back at you, almost making you think that he didn’t believe you.

“Do you really mean that?”

You kept your eyes on him and nodded. “As much as you like to tease me, you’re so much nicer than I ever expected you to be. You’re also funny, and helpful, even though I never ask you to be. You’re really really sweet, Baekhyun, I like you a lot just the way you are now.”

With your last sentence you found yourself looking down in embarrassment, hoping he wouldn’t make fun of you for saying something so vulnerable.

“I like you a lot too.” You saw how his cheeks pulled up into a shy smile and although it was hard to tell in the dim moonlight, you could’ve sworn he was blushing as well. “You’re my best friend, you know.”

“I am?”

As much as you were flattered, and happy that he was so fond of you too, you always assumed he had other friends with how outgoing he seemed.

He nodded. “I told you, I don’t really get along with most of the people my family surrounds themselves with. Most of them don’t like me and think I’m strange and the few I got along with aren’t close with the family anymore, and I don’t blame them.”

“What about people like me?”

He just laughed, “There’s a reason we have to meet like this, I’m definitely not supposed to befriend palace maids, servants, cooks, anyone like that, anyone who doesn’t have some higher status really. I was worried that someone would rat me out for coming to see you so much but surprisingly nobody seems to care.”

“The kitchen staff all generally mind their own business, we know that what you and your family are up to isn’t our business. I doubt they care that you’re in my bakery so often. We aren’t a particularly nosy bunch.”

Baekhyun was smiling, and you were having trouble looking away. You were his best friend. He thought that highly of you. This beautiful, kind, lovely prince really cared about you this much, enough to tell you about his family and the things that upset him. And you were the only person outside of his family that he’d even mentioned it to.

“Baekhyun, you’re my best friend too.”

Baekhyun’s smile became even more blinding and next thing you knew he scooted himself to sit directly next to you, thighs pressed together, and he rested his head on your shoulder. You felt his breath on your neck, and tried to conceal how it made you shiver for a second.

“I’m glad I was craving creampuffs so badly that night.” He hummed and his low voice so close to your ear made your skin tingle.

“Me too.” You responded, squeezing his hand. “If you weren’t the prince, and you could do whatever you wanted, what would you want to be?” You asked him.

“I want to sing, and I want to be in love.” He replied softly.

You felt your heart flutter, you wanted him to be able to be happy, to do what he loves, and to love someone, someone he could actually be with. You couldn’t help the slight lump in your throat when you thought about how that could never be you.

“You can sing?” You asked, trying to ignore the other wish of his for your own sanity. “You’ve never sung for me before.”

“I haven’t in a while now, when I was younger sometimes I would get to sing at events, but eventually my mother deemed it an unnecessary distraction, and I had to stop.”

You frowned. “I’d love to hear you sing.”

With that he started faintly singing a familiar melody, a traditional wedding hymn, and of course his voice was just as pretty as the man himself. You were already so fond of his speaking voice, it wasn’t surprising to you that you loved his singing voice even more.

“You’d be a fantastic singer.”

He groaned, and leaned further into you. “It’s so unfair.” He whispered, and you could feel his lips slightly brush against your neck as he spoke. “Why don’t I get to be happy? Why do I have to live a life I don’t want, why can’t I love who I want?”

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep your composure with how he was pressed up against you, his lips almost touching your neck, breathing you in with every breath, his hand tightly intertwined with yours. Your infatuation was too much to bear, and with a shaky breath you leaned into him as well, resting your head atop of his. “It is unfair. So fucking unfair. I wish there was any way I could help, something I could do to make things better but I’m just a baker. I shouldn’t even be here right now.”

“You’ve done more than you realize. I have someone who will listen to me now, someone who’s nice to me and I can be myself around without feeling bad about it. On days when I can’t come see you, I just look forward to seeing you again the whole day.”

I just look forward to seeing you again the whole day.

The words rung in your mind, and you thought about the days when he wouldn’t be there. You missed him on those days too, and usually spent hours daydreaming about him as you did your work. His laugh, his smile, his silly jokes, his enthusiasm any time you made him something. It was just better when he was there. The bakery felt too quiet and lonely without him ever since he’d made it a regular thing.

“It feels so lonely now, working when you aren’t there. I always miss having you around on days when you’re too busy.”

You were glad he couldn’t see your face from where he was, and how hard you were blushing. Your heart felt like it was about to burst. The affection you had for him was overflowing, and with all of his sweet words whispered into the crook of your neck it was hard to not just start weeping. If you didn’t know better you would’ve thought that maybe, he actually liked you the same way you liked him.

But that was a foolish thing to even think about. He was a prince, and you were a nobody, a commoner. Even if he did feel the same way about you, you would never be able to be together anyway. He deserved happiness with someone he could actually start a life with, someone that his family would approve of, who he could marry and start a family with, and live happily together as royalty, like he was born to.

Did he not think that was possible?

“Baekhyun, why do you say that you can’t be in love?”

You wanted to protest at first when he sat up, but then he looked at you, and you saw the sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t get to meet people, fall in love, all that. Some day my parents will arrange a marriage for some sort of political advantage and I’ll just have to deal with it. The well-being of the people goes before any one individual's happiness, I suppose.”

This time you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That still isn’t fair.” You mumbled.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Have you ever been in love? You had to think about it for a second, but looking back on the past flings you’d had here and there, it was never really love.

“No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m not sure I know what love even is, in the romantic sense. I’ve been attracted to people, sure, but I was never able to act on it anyway. I bet it feels amazing, though. Loving someone and them loving you back. But of course people always want what they can’t have.”

He sighed, and you felt his thumb gently rubbing back and forth across the back of your hand.

“Even if it’s just for a little while, I hope you get to feel that someday.”

“Me too.” He whispered. “And I hope you get to live a long, happy life like that.”

You felt the lump in your throat again. Of course you wanted that, but your infatuation for him at that moment made it hard not to be sad at the notion that you’d never experience that with him. Of course you’d daydreamed about different worlds, where he loved you and the two of you could be together, but this wasn’t your reality.

You stayed quiet after that, focusing your eyes on the garden in front of you, the colorful flowers in the moonlight and the occasional flickering of a firefly. You and Baekhyun sat like that, simply enjoying each other’s presence, until you heard yawning coming from both of you, and decided it was time to call it a night before you could accidentally fall asleep.

Baekhyun thanked you oh so sweetly for coming and spending time with him, and gave you another hug before you parted ways.

As you drifted to sleep his words and actions rang in your mind, and you already felt yourself missing him and his touches.

Baekhyun, your best friend.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun ff #baekhyun smut #exo fluff #exo smut #exo fic #baekhyun fic

152 notes · View notes

milkytheholy1 · 3 years

Text

Request: hey Milky, hope your doing okay with your exams and all that jazz. can i request Rise!Mikey x female reader where Mikey and the reader are maybe hanging out in the kitchen baking because they were bored with nothing too interesting to do and since they were so distracted by how much fun they were having with their little food fights they ended up making a mess of the kitchen and as they are cleaning either Mikey or the reader trip or knock into something and they just tumble to floor realizing the position they were in and stuff and one of them ends up confessing? Mikey has always been my favorite and your one of my favorite writers and I saw that you only had one of Mikey so here I am, no pressure in writing this either. 😅

A/N: Firstly, thank you for the luck, I have one more exam next Friday then I'm done! And it's sort of funny how I think I just did something very similar to this in a HC or something. Anyway, I'm thrilled to be one of your favourite writers, that's nuts! Thank you so much! And I'm definitely here to serve up some more Mikey, although, personally, I don't think I'm that good at writing him. Oh well, enjoy!

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL masterlist

Food fight!

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"Oookay, so next ingredient is 150g of plain flour," you hum, grabbing the large bag of said flour and delicately pouring it into the scales. Mikey's stood beside you, watching you like a hawk, "Can't we add something exciting in, y'know, add a little razzle-dazzle!"

You let out a little chuckle while measuring the sugar, adding the grands into the large mixing bowl. "Mikey, baking is all about following the recipe, it's like science; you have to follow the instructions down to a T or it won't turn out how you want it to." Mikey puffed out a breath of air, his legs feeling like they're going to collapse from boredom, he needed to express himself, whether that be from his shell to the way he bakes.

"C'mooon, Chef Swaggart says that cooking is one's way to express themselves in food, you gotta diverge from the chosen path to release the flavour!"

You gave Mikey a deadpanned look, hand moving from the wooden spoon left idle in the mixing bowl and onto your pointed hip, "Mikey, no offence, but Chef Swaggart is currently running around New York sweating meat; I don't think he can make a call on what to add or not add in a cake recipe."

"Heeey, he may be a disgusting mutant pig now but he's still a culinary genius. Have you seen Kondenscending Kitchen! That show's amazing!" he cheered, hands crushed up against his heart. You rolled your eyes at his dramatic behaviour, and here I thought Donnie or Leo were the ones for drama you mused. Pouring the cake batter into a pan, you slide the bowl across the counter to the box turtle, who happily lapped up whatever was left.

And finally, the cake was placed in the oven, the timer was set and you could get started on the mountain of pots you had to wash. You watched as Mikey, who was now sat on the counter, shoved the batter-covered spoon into his mouth, a pleasing smile on his face. "Enjoying that?" you smirked, taking pride in the satisfying hum leaving his lips.

You marched your way over to him, making grabby hands at the bowl to try some of the mix, but Mikey held the bowl higher in his hands, a wicked grin across his face. Balancing on your tiptoes did nothing to increase your chances of getting the small delicious treat, instead, you pouted up at the box turtle, waiting until he gave. Mikey huffed down at you, taking the spoon and scooping a small amount of batter onto it, you thought at first he would offer you the spoon but it seemed as though he had another plan.

He outstretched his arm, and by extension the spoon, and dolloped a blob of batter of the end of your nose, the scraped the spoon down your cheeks and to the tip of your chin. He pulled away, body shaking with laughter, eyes creased and salty. You scowled up at him, using a finger to wipe away the spot on your nose and sucking on it.

In a fit of retaliation, you grabbed a bowl of cream that you were planning to use in the cake, a smeared a handful across Mikey's plastron. He flicked his head towards you, mouth open wide in shock at your actions. Smirking evilly, he jumped from the counter and grabbed the bag of flour, throwing huge handfuls towards you with a cackle. You moved quick, ducking behind the counters, peeking out every so often.

Your hand popped out from under the counter, searching blindly for any ammo. You grasped a box of eggs, only two missing from your cake. You waited until Mikey stopped throwing handfuls of flour and launched egg after egg at him; it was like throwing snowballs but just that bit more painful and sticky. Mikey released a yelp and crashed to the ground, the bag of flour falling with him and coating the floor.

Mikey huddled in closer to himself to avoid any flying eggs, he couldn't help the wide grin, this was so much fun! This is exactly what you both needed, a sort of stress relief, and bonus points for it being together. Mikey had been working up the courage to ask you out for a while now, he couldn't really ask his brothers for help considering he was the 'feelings man' of the group. He tried to ask Dr Feelings for help but only struggled, the best advice he got was to be himself and that was coming from April!

Mikey noted the white, egg-covered, napkin to his side. Taking a deep breath, he held it above the counter and waved it with remorse. Your egg onslaught stopped, a proud twinkle in your eyes when you saw the white flag of surrender. Placing the eggs down, you asked if it was a truce, to which Mikey happily replied: "Even though I hate to admit it, yes, it's a truce." he moaned out.

As you emerged, you finally looked at each other. Clumps of flour were in your hair and stuck on the wet batter of your face, Mikey had bits of broken eggshells littering his body, spots of flour clumped around the dripping cream from his chest. The room was silent, then suddenly the two of you burst out laughing, crying tears of joy at the state you were both in.

"What is going on in here!"

The laughter stopped, quickly going back to that airy silence. You and Mikey turned your gaze to the kitchen's entrance, noting a very angry Splinter stood there, hands on his hips and face in a deep scowl.

"He did it!"

"She did it!"

You both shouted at the same time, both glaring at each other when the other responded. Splinter growled under his breath and threw a mop and brush towards you, "I don't care who started it, just clean it up!" he left after that, no doubt going to the projector room to catch up on his shows. Mikey held the mop in a loose grip, back arching as he whined, "Uggh, do we really have to do this."

"Hey, you were the one that started it," you argued, grabbing a kitchen cloth and some water and making a start on cleaning the countertops. Mikey groaned again, this time a little louder, he heaved the mop out of the bucket and began swiping the floor, "Yeeahh, but if you hadn't gone after my batter then I wouldn't have had to retaliate."

"Your batter?" you emphasised, pushing the cloth harder against the counter in mock anger. Mikey nodded his head, not thinking that you wouldn't be able to see it, taking your silence as an answer he continued, "How long do you think this will take us?"

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure what the current time was anyway, "Who knows, could take a few minutes could take a few hours." Mikey didn't seem to like that answer, opting to muffle his yell with a clenched mouth. You both continued to scrub the kitchen clean for a while longer, eventually Splinter came back in to get a drink and marvelled at your work.

"Ah, I see you two have learnt your lesson, remember, this will make you better warriors for the Hamato Clan." he spoke as he rummaged through the fridge for some milk. You and Mikey shared a look at each other than towards the rat, "How will this make us Hamato Clan warriors?" you asked in disbelief. Splinter pulled away from the fridge with the milk carton in hand, no doubt drinking it without a glass, he pointed his finger up in defence, "Do not question the ways of the old!" with that spout of wisdom, he left the room.

You shook your head and continued putting away the cleaning supplies, you could feel Mikey's presence behind you, he was still holding the mop, just watching you work away. He mindlessly mopped the floor, lost in the essence of you. Turning around to speak to him about the cake, you lost your footing on the extremely wet floor and slipped. Mikey liked to think that due to his inept ninja skills he would be able to catch you with no problem; that was not the case.

Mikey's body latched onto you in the short few seconds of you falling, his shell hit the ground with a loud bang and your forehead made a similar nose when it hit his plastron. You leaned up slightly, rubbing your forehead with the tips of your fingers, "Sorry," you mumbled through pained lips. Mikey blinked up at you, nervously laughing, but the concern was written as clear as day in his eyes, "No, I'm sorry I mopped the floors too much, you wouldn't have fallen otherwise."

You continued to stay in that position for a bit longer, just staring at each other deeply until the other looked away. Mikey shifted under you, alerting you to the position you remained in, you backed off slightly muttering another "Sorry," under your breath. But Mikey's hands reached out for you, stopping you from moving off of him completely. Now perched in his lap, you stared at him with a rising blush on your cheeks.

"(Y/N), l-look, erm, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're pretty cool a-and- and crazy talented at baking and really funny, I-I just think you're pretty awesome. And maybe, I don't know, you'd like to go get dinner or something some time? Maybe go see a movie...with me...just us...together?" he drew out, eyes averting yours and his fingers rubbing nervously at his neck.

You sat in awe at his little confession, practically gaping at the mouth, eyes as wide as dinner plates. Coughing, you earned his attention, nodding rapidly you swung your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Mikey copied the actions, a dark red-tinged his cheeks, "Is that a yes?" you laughed at him, "Yes!" you hummed out. You pulled away from him and groaned at your appearance, cream was no smushed against your chest, egg dripping around your neck.

"As sweet as ever," Mikey teased in an attempt to flirt, you would have congratulated him, really you would, but a gross burning smell caught your immediate attention. Springing from Mikey's legs, a hurt look on his face, you scrambled around the kitchen in search of the oven gloves. Mikey gave you a quizzical stare as he watched you run around like a headless chicken. You finally looked at him with panic in your eyes, "We forgot about the cake!" you screamed out, mentally laughing when you caught Mikey's panicked expression.

Splinter had wandered back into the kitchen in search of food, instead, he entered a room coated in thick black smoke and two teenagers running around in a circle, with the oven door open and flames raging on the inside, screaming "Wee Woo!" in alarm. He flew a hard slap against his forehead and groaned, "Why can't we have been a normal family like those on t.v."

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levihantrash · 3 years

Text

Priorities

For Levihan week Aug 2021 Day 2 prompt: confessions

Also based on a cute ass tumblr prompt by @sanothebreadpup <3 hope you like it!!

Summary: It’s been a while since Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long. Erwin suggested going to Levi for advice on managing prioritises. Instead, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

note: no smut but lots of spicy poetic touching

cross-posted on ao3 🤪

-----

Hange wanted to confess. It had been months since they knew that their best friend status with Levi could potentially be tweaked to include just a bit more romance, and they knew they had to be the one to take that step. As much as Levi was quick-witted on the battlefield, he wasn’t quite the risk-taker in ordinary settings. In fact, Hange figured Levi would sip tea beside them until he was greying and would probably be as content with the arrangement.

Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long.

Out-of-the-blue, though characteristically charismatic, Erwin gave the soldiers a pep-talk on how they need to know what to prioritise (i.e., humanity's victory).

Inspired, though the speech’s intended audience was clearly for new recruits, Hange tried to prioritise their tasks. Within a day, they got overwhelmed, the list being more of a reason for delay than for action. Moblit, well-meaning as always, tried to get Hange to focus on one at a time but that was unthinkable to them. One at a time meant that the confession would never happen. There was too much to research. Too much at stake. Too much for one inconsequential confession.

Unknowingly, Erwin saw Hange wringing their hands, muttering to themselves in the dining hall.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t prioritise the important stuff,” Hange grumbled. Perking up at the mention of priorities, Erwin advised Hange to seek Levi’s guidance.

“Levi only does one thing at a time once he sets his heart on it.”

Eager for a chance encounter with someone they technically already hung out with on most days, Hange asked Levi for help. More accurately, in perhaps the most roundabout manner, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

“For research,” Hange said, almost convinced by their own performance.

“You can do that yourself,” Levi said reasonably.

While starting a task was horrendously difficult, Hange was not one to give up once they began on one.

“You’re the only one here who can bake.”

Eyes narrowed, arms folded, Levi was not buying the compliment. He had a pile of papers left to read. Hange’s whims could be settled by someone with more well-matched interests and time management.

“Go ask Petra.”

Hovering nearby with another paper for her captain to sign, Petra noticed Hauge's crestfallen face.

“It’s not about the baking being done but who Hange is doing the baking with,” Petra whispered, as discreetly as she could.

"I'm busy," Levi said, loud enough for Hange to hear, heedless of Petra’s input.

“Alright.” Hange sighed, internally fuming that they should’ve found a more legitimate excuse. Bluff out something like Erwin’s orders. Levi followed Erwin’s orders without question. Hange’s requests were dealt with more scepticism. Not that Hange had the best track record of requests.

In the end, Hange prepared the baking supplies, because even if titans couldn’t stomach cake, it was an experimental endeavour. Practically speaking, they could give some baked goods to the juniors. Maybe even gift some to Levi.

Stumbling into the kitchen with too many ingredients in hand, they found Levi leaning against the entrance looking positively sullen. Upon spotting Hange, his face morphed into a more acceptable, neutral expression, nodding towards them.

"I thought you were busy!"

Levi shrugged, grabbing some of the ingredients from their arms. "I was. Didn't you want to bake?"

“I guess?”

The sudden change of mind was too abrupt for Hange to wrap their head around. A hopeful glow had unfortunately begun growing in them. Levi was being exceptionally nice today. No doubt that he was usually nice. Just not will-bake-for-your-titans kind of nice.

"Erwin said that you are really good at prioritising tasks,” Hange said, slowly digging through the cabinets for the utensils.

"Huh. Let me guess—he wants you to learn from me."

Hange scratched their head absent-mindedly. "He did tell me to ask you."

"I'm not actually very good at sticking to a task,” Levi admitted, wondering where in hell Erwin got the idea that he was focused. If he were, the paperwork would have been submitted, instead of lying around, flapping aimlessly in the wind before Petra (and Oluo) offered their generous help. He refused—every time. Levi was simply good at keeping a blank face and reporting to Erwin that he needed more time, which Erwin must have mistaken as a sign of seriousness than a sign of procrastination.

“You are! You finished work before coming have, didn't you?”

Levi didn’t breathe out a word, silently pouring through the book of recipes.

"What do you want to bake?"

Hange didn’t mind his lack of response, pondering over his poor cover-up question. "Something easy. What about bread?"

"Bread isn’t easy."

Difficulties translated into the promise of adventure for Hange. Pumped up, Hange prodded at the picture of an unremarkable loaf of chocolate banana bread.

"Let's do it anyway!"

“Suit yourself.”

-----

The small touches were the ones that were hardest to ignore. Hange felt the accidental-deliberate brush of Levi’s elbow when he reached over to choose an ingredient. Other times, he guided their hand with the right amount of strength for stirring the batter. His fingers over their stirring hand were firm and reassuring.

“You’re stirring too fast,” Levi said patiently.

“You’re distracting me,” Hange replied half-heartedly.

“Oh, am I?” The fingers left Hange’s hand. Just as Hange was about to lament their moment of folly in allowing that to happen, the fingers reached out towards their face. Forcing in a breath, Hange felt Levi’s thumb rub out a chocolate stain at the side of their lip.

“How did the chocolate get there?” Levi murmured, more to himself than to them.

“I was snacking on some of the chocolate bits a while ago…” Hange said cheekily, licking the side of their lips only to realise that Levi’s thumb was still there. Their tongue brushed his finger, and in that contact, Hange was ready to collapse from self-generated sexual tension.

Though his eyes widened noticeably, Levi quickly resumed his blasé expression. Rubbing the rest of the stain out, he walked to the tap to wash his hands. There was some hesitation, before he hurriedly turned on the tap, letting the water run for two seconds over his hands before going back to his position next to Hange.

Unsure as to whether to be offended or pleased by the sight of Levi cleaning the evidence of their encounter with such carelessness, Hange busied themselves with breaking eggs and separating yolk. If it had been Levi with a finger lined with fudge, Hange would’ve licked it spotless. With permission, of course.

To pay him back in kind, Hange plotted their own routine of touch as well. The touches became bolder, starting innocently enough. From casually brushing away hair that was poking Levi’s eye, to going behind Levi who was busy slicing up bananas and placing both hands on the counter. Their arms were now on either side of him, conveniently taller than him so that their head could peer right over his shoulder. The cutting didn’t cease—it only got more rapid, the bananas becoming neat circles in a matter of seconds. Hange let out an impressed whistle, hands not leaving the counter.

“Stop distracting me.”

“Oh, am I?”

One drop of the knife, and a swift turn later, Levi found himself staring straight into Hange’s bright, beautiful, heavily eye-bagged orbs.

"Hange, do you know why I'm in the kitchen at 2am baking for some shit-brained monsters?"

“Titans don’t have—”

“Because I have priorities.” Levi interrupted, not allowing Hange to clarify what the physical anatomy of titan subjects entailed.

Hange blinked, maintaining an oblivious exterior. “Your priorities include titan research?”

“You know what I was going to say.”

“Somewhat. I want to hear you say it out loud, though.”

Grimacing, he concentrated his gaze on Hange’s collar instead. Skin flushed, collarbones peeking out mischievously. Bad idea.

“You little shit.”

Their laugh was quieter, milder than the ones they let out on other days. “My favourite little shit! So what are your priorities?”

“Wiping the blades. Cleaning the toilet. Dusting under the tables. Doing laundry. Having enough tea. Baking with a scientist who thinks—”

Hange pressed a gentle hand on his mouth. “I get it.”

“Which part do you get?” Levi asked, enjoying the fact that when he moved his lips, they grazed Hange’s palm. How would it be like to replace that hand with their mouth?

“That you like me.” Hange grinned, tugging Levi by the straps of his apron just a bit closer.

An unexpected flash of clumsiness made Levi knock down the bag of flour, spilling it onto the floor. The fall clouded up the vicinity in white dust. Gaining confidence with obscured vision, Hange held the back of Levi’s head, tracing his undercut, admiring how his immaculately combed hair had come undone. An attractively dishevelled mess. Hange was in no hurry. Yet.

Levi, in a spur of restlessness, looked up at Hange questioningly. Eyeing their faint smirk, he tilted his head sideways, watching carefully for any sign of reluctance. An impatient “are you going to kiss me or not” from Hange; a straightforward command was what he needed to hear. No time was wasted pulling Hange into an urgent, searing kiss. Backed against the counter, hands cupping Hange’s face, Levi devoured the sensation. The taste of sugar, fruit, flour, and chocolate clung onto the entwinement, as Hange breathily pressed up against him. Erwin had warned them both. Love in the military meant the threat of loss. The possibility of sorrow. As he felt the rumble of Hange’s satisfying groan beneath his lips sending an unprecedented warmth through his body, he was certain. He would have loved Hange whether he kissed them or not. Death would happen, whether or not Hange rubbed his waist in soothing, awe-inspiring strokes. Right now, he would die in absolute bliss.

To be honest, Hange would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t end up fucking, or at least, aggressively kissing eventually. Erwin’s advice was only a stronger reminder that Hange was never one to be conservative. They loved Levi, as a comrade, as a friend, as the person whom they would kill for, if it meant saving his life. Still, having Levi sneak a hand into the bareness of their back, sucking their neck with a hot tenderness that made their head spin, they knew that chastity and platonic hugging could not be the only option.

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Hange said, peeling away his jacket.

“Couldn’t tell when the right time was,” Levi said, starting on the buttons of Hange’s shirt.

The door creaked open.

“This is your idea of asking Levi for help?” Erwin said, a thick eyebrow raised as he surveyed the mess.

With some willpower, he stopped unbuttoning Hange’s shirt. Lightly pushing Hange away, Levi straightened up, less than pleased with the interruption.

“Erwin, you better have something worthwhile to say if you—”

“I’ll clean this up.” Erwin, fully recovered from his shock, was beaming.

“Huh?”

“It’s about time,” Erwin said, with the proud sincerity of an unwitting matchmaker, gesturing towards the door.

“We owe you one, Erwin!” Hange waved at him on the way out, while Levi cast him a grateful, wary glance. With his hand was secure on their back, and Hange’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, there was no care for an audience. Only the smell of baked goods and unfinished business fuelled their steps towards a private space. A place where they would end up in each other’s arms—spent, sweaty, and deliriously at peace.

#levihanweek2021 #lhw2021 #levihan #levi x hange #day 2 #levi ackerman #hange zoe #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #fanfiction #aot #my writing #hanji zoe #prompt

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miraeluc · 3 years

Text

you have an anxiety attack

prompt: “after a long day you’re just trying to cook for you and your roommate, but when you accidentally switch salt and sugar the stress dawns upon you and you lose it.”

pairing: kaeya x gender-neutral reader

warnings: description of an anxiety attack, explicit language

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, angst

rough day?

roughest of the rough

it started in the morning - all was good until you were all dressed and ready to go

all you needed to do was brush your teeth

of course you dropped toothpaste on your new blouse and had to change because your boss would literally kill you if you strutted in there with toothpaste stains on your clothing

that didn’t upset you too much anyway,, yep, it kinda sucks but it is what it is

you went to work

that’s when it started to REALLY go downhill

first, you had to sit your ass in this tiny cubicle all day and it remained right on that chair every time you stood up

that’s what it felt like at least

then, you lost data that you’ve been working on for a MONTH

an entire month’s worth data!!!! LOST!!!!

curse you and your issue with forgetting where you put your folders

so you started over

was it worth it?

your boss hated it

you ended up dropping the project overall,, handed it over to a co-worker

your excuse was that you felt too ‘unfit’ for the whole project and he would totally be a better fit!

poor bennett

bennett is a nice guy, you always hang out with him during break

you usually talk shit about the other co-workers and he just listens and sits there like ◕ ◡ ◕

he’s just there for the food you bring him, really

he’s a little dumb so he took the project from you with no hesitation

“i’ll do it for you, dont even worry about it, y/n!”

you ended up working overtime

you had about 7 projects to finish until tomorrow morning and they were all only half-done

so you got your coffee, turned off your phone and got to work

you finished at 9pm

your work hours are 8am-5:30pm

nope, not having a great time

well, at least you can go home now!

you pack up your stuff and get up, leaving this hellhole of an office, stretching as you wait for the elevator before checking your phone to see 7 missed calls from your roommate

aka kaeya

aka boy that is most likely emotionally unavailable

aka boy that KEEPS TURNING OFF THE HEATERS TO LEAVE YOU TO FREEZE

his excuse is always that he can’t handle the warmth but you’re sure its so you whine about the cold so he can hug you to warm you up

maybe you have a teeny tiny crush on him???? BUT WHO CAN BLAME YOU

he’s a whole package - the only thing he’s lacking is emotional availability lmao

which is why you never mentioned the day by day blooming feelings you’ve been developing for him

there would be no positive outcome from you telling him. he would politely turn you down, having to explain yet again that he doesn’t see himself having actual romantic feelings to someone

you’re content with your current relationship with him

right?

kaeya is known as the fuckboy! of the city

neither of you mind, he’s having his fun

and you know that there’s much more to it

you’re very happy to have gained his trust enough for him to let his flirty side down when with you, at least

well, there’s no time to ponder over your relationship with him because you’re already sprinting to catch the last bus of the day

right as you got to the station it drove away

fuck

what now?

you have to walk home. alone. in the dark.

oh well.

usually bennett drives you home but obviously he left earlier

its only a 15 minute walk you can do it

it’s not that bad there’s street lamps hey!

not that bad until it starts to rain, apparently

by the time you get home there’s water in places rainwater shouldn’t be

kaeya is running by the time he hears the front door

“where were you??”

“why didn’t you reply to my calls??”

“do you have a slight idea about how worried i w-”

he stops when he sees your soaked figure and tired expression

“oh, y/n, what happened?”

he immediately helped you chuck off your wet coat and shoes

“i worked overtime and missed the last bus so i had to walk home”, you sighed

he nodded and hummed “Go ahead and take a shower then, wouldn’t want you to get sick now, would we?” he winked

you scoffed but nodded anyway

“yeah, especially in this coLD FUCKING APARTMENT BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO LET THE HEATERS TURNED ON-”

you only heard him laugh before shutting the door in the bathroom and jumping into the shower, needing to warm up because you were sure your toes were about to fall off from the cold

at least the shower went well

:///

you got dressed in lounge attire when you got out of the shower, walking to the kitchen because you were very hungry

you gave bennett all your food today so you didnt have any left

he just looked so hungry

ANYWAYS

you’re in the kitchen, deciding on what to cook

if you ask kaeya he will tell you to just drink wine instead so, no

you kind of want something sweet so you decide to bake cupcakes

kaeya shows up too

“what’re you baking?”

he sat and watched as you gathered all the ingredients you need

“cupcakes. how was your day?”

you strike up a conversation - all you talked about today was work and you need some decent interaction, plus kaeya is a super nice talk partner

“good. i had a day-off today so i layed in bed all day”

you hummed, stirring the eggs and flour

“how come? you never get off”

“no reason, i was forcibly given a day off- well anyways, what i wanted to tell you about before you worried me because i thoght you were deAD when you didn’t respond, is that i need your help setting up a date for diluc-”

you stopped listening halfway

you were looking at the unopened sugar bag on the counter

you just stirred the sugar in, why is it unopened????

you look over at the open bag of salt

wait a second

you take out a little dough and taste it

FUCK

“hello??? earth to y/n?? are you even liste-”

he stops himself as soon as you look at him with your lower lip trembling

uhhhhh

he’s never been in this situation

“y/n?? why are you crying-”

he looks at the counter and the dough, then he sees the salt beside the bowl you were stirring in and leans over to try some

oh, that’s why

“oh come on, is that what you’re crying over?” he snorted

he could barely catch you when you collapsed and started sobbing

he immediately regreted what he said

“hey, y/n, it’s just a little dough! its okay-”

you just sobbed and he sat down with you, sighing and pulling you into a tight hug

you felt your lungs constricting and your hands started shaking

you didn’t even notice how antsy you felt all day until now

you gasped for air and he tightened his grip on you

“w-why am i so worthless?!”

you punched his chest

“i can’t do a single thi-ng with-out messing it up!”

punch

“i’m so us-useless”

punch

“i should just kill m-”

he immediately pulled away and cupped your face before you could finish what you were about to say

“y/n, look at me. you had a bad day - you’re not useless! you’re stressed out! you’re one of the most hardworking people that i know- and, and don’t you ever mention anything about killing yourself! i won’t let you go, not as long as im here”

you were too busy fighting against the constricting feeling in your lungs to notice the tear slipping down his cheek before he hugged you tightly again

your hands gripped at his tshirt

his hand rested over your shaky ones

it broke him

seeing you in such state hurt him so much, he felt his own heart breaking a little with every gasp you took

“come on, let’s breathe together”

his voice was soft when he spoke to you

he took a deep breath in, you following

you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your head against his chest when breathing out

hearing his heartbeat made you feel safe

he kept breathing with you until he was more than sure you could breathe comfortably again

why did he feel like this?

sure, flirting with girls is fun

and ghosting them is also fun

he usually doesn’t care about hurting them

but why does he feel the need to protect you from all bad things?

and why does your pain hurt him too?

he sighs and shakes his head as if that would clear his mind

(it doesn’t)

oh well.

taking care of your needs is more important right now

he picks you up and walks over to the couch, sitting down, placing you on his lap and hugging you

“you’re not cooking anything, we’ll order takeout.”

you sniffled and nodded

you did feel your heart flutter a little when he sat you down on him

he’s never done that

you ignore it and reside into the warmth he gives instead, nuzzling your face into his chest

he smiles softly and strokes your hair, using his free hand to type in what you were ordering

you both fell into a comfortable silence

at some point he thought you fell asleep lol

“kaeya?”

he rose his brows a little and looked down, humming

“thank you.”

additional notes: welp. this was my first drabble! it was very fun to write and i genuinely look forward to writing more! i’d appreciate it alot if you leave any feedback or even requests for drabbles :-)

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #anxiety #anxiety attack #angst #fluff #diluc #bennett #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #gender neutral s/o #genshin impact x reader #kaeya scenario #genshin impact scenarios #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff

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sandwichrin · 3 years

Text

A Little into You (Junkyu x Reader) (Ch. 23)

Chapter 23 - Pure Drama

Word count: 4.1k words

Genre: Fanfiction, PG13, Comedy, Romance.

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the next chapter! And uhh, like the title of the chapter itself-- this chapter is literally pure drama :’)

Treasure and Y/n’s Apartment Block (Lobby)

“Y/n! Heyyyy it’s been a while!” the familiar cheerful voice said, making you turn around.

“Ah, Hyunsuk! Hi!” You greeted him back with a smile. “Getting your mail?” You asked him.

Hyunsuk shook his head, “Nope. I’m going to the office to retrieve my parcel from them.”

“I see. I’m heading there too, actually. An old friend of mine sent me some snacks from our hometown,”

“Nice! Let’s head there together!” Hyunsuk said happily, making you grin from his excited behaviour.

The both of you walked side by side, making small talk with each other.

Once you’ve both arrived in the building’s office which was located right beside the main entrance of the building itself, Hyunsuk hurried in front of you to help open the door for you.

You giggled at him, “Wow, I didn’t know you’re this much of a gentleman,”

“But of course.” Hyunsuk grinned.

You entered the office first, Hyunsuk following behind you now. The moment you approached the counter located in the office; you informed the staff on duty that you wanted to take your parcel.

“I’m here to pick up my parcel? I think it arrived yesterday. The name’s (insert y/n’s full name).” you glanced over at Hyunsuk who was standing beside you before adding, “Oh, and another one is under the name of Choi Hyunsuk.”

Hyunsuk smiles at you and pats your head. “Thanks.”

“No problem,”

The both of you waited for a minute or two before finally receiving both your parcels. After collecting the parcels, the both of you thanked the staff and left the office together.

“Your parcel seems kind of big, y/n. You sure you can carry it?”

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s big but it’s not heavy. They’re all just snacks anyways,” you assured him.

Hyunsuk nodded at you, holding his medium-sized box in one hand. He helped press the elevator button for the both of you.

Entering the elevator doors, Hyunsuk helped press the buttons to both your floors as well.

“Thanks Hyunsuk. You’re a lot of help,” you complimented him.

“Yeah, sure. No biggie.”

While waiting for the elevator to reach your floor, Hyunsuk suddenly had an idea.

“Hey, y/n,”

“Yup?”

“Have you had lunch?”

“Well…I’m ordering some takeout later. Why?” You turned to face him now.

“Ah, it’s just.” Hyunsuk paused. “The boys and I are all having lunch at my dorm.”

“Ahh I see. Sounds fun!” You smiled at him.

“Well I was wondering…if you’d like to join us?”

“Oh? Is that really okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Hyunsuk snickered at your question. “It’s been a while since we all hung out together, I’m sure the boys would be happy to have you join us,”

“Hmm.” You thought to yourself for a while.

Ding! The elevator reached your floor.

“Oh, it’s my floor.”

Hyunsuk pressed on the button to keep the doors open for you.

“Thanks,” you said to him. “I uh…I’d love to join you guys,” you added.

“Yay!”

“Ah, but can we stop over at my place for a bit?” You said, giving him an apologetic smile.

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Main Entrance/Living Room)

“Just wait til the boys see you, they’d be so happy,” Hyunsuk said to you as he closed the door behind the both of you, his cute smile beaming at you.

You nodded back at him as you took your shoes off at the entrance.

“I’m back! Where is everyone??” Hyunsuk called out as he entered the living room.

“I’m in the kitchen, hyung!” you both heard Doyoung answer from the kitchen.

You followed Hyunsuk into the living room and there you saw Asahi, Haruto and Junghwan sitting around chatting with each other.

“Heyy, where’s Yoshi?” Hyunsuk asked the maknaes with you still following close behind him.

“Yoshi-hyung went to help clean Jeongwoo and Jaehyuk because they kept making snow in the kitchen using flour,” Asahi answered him.

“Ahh, that seems like something they’d do,” Hyunsuk snickered.

Junghwan stopped looking at his phone to look at Hyunsuk, and that’s when he noticed you.

“Noona!” Junghwan immediately got up from the floor, rushing towards you.

You lift a finger to your mouth, signalling him not to be too loud since you were planning to surprise the rest who hasn’t known you’re here.

Junghwan nodded and pointed at the paper bag in your hand. “What’s that?” he whispered.

“It’s Junkyu’s shirt that I used last time,” you replied.

Junghwan was about to talk to you further but then Hyunsuk had already excitedly pulled you with him towards the kitchen.

The moment the both of you had approached the kitchen’s doorframe, you could already see your other friends’ faces and you were happy to see them since you haven’t seen them for days. Well, most of them.

You smiled at them but then none of them returned your smile, making you wonder what they were so immersed with.

You recognised the person that was speaking in front of you, the guy that you had sort of missed these couple of days—especially since that weird incident that happened between him and Chani which had resulted in you rarely seeing him around you anymore.

Your grip on the paper bag in your hand tightened, you felt hopeful now that you’re finally seeing him again.

Now, of course you didn’t know the whole dispute that begun in the kitchen at the time—where Junkyu was being all bitter about Chani leeching on to you but instead of lashing out about Chani, he had made the mistake of venting his feeling of annoyance towards you.

And so, the timing when you entered the kitchen was when Junkyu was already saying this:

“…doesn’t care anything about us. We’re always looking out for her, but what do we get in return??”

You tilt your head, wondering who he was talking about. Hyunsuk, who was beside you also seemed confuse as to why everyone looked so tense in the kitchen.

You were about to step further into the kitchen when suddenly, Junkyu said—

“Y/n is annoying,”

You immediately stopped your foot from advancing. Your eyes lift up to see Yedam, Jihoon, Doyoung and Mashiho all staring at you, fear clearly showing on their faces because this time, they all realised you were directly behind Junkyu. Which meant…you clearly heard what he had said.

Suddenly, you saw Jihoon bursting out in laughter. “HAHAHAHAA very funny Junkyu! Look at you! What a horrible joke to make!” he laughed.

You took a deep breath, thinking maybe they were pulling a prank on you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could say anything, Junkyu had already spoken up again—

“No, I wasn’t kidding! Y/n really is annoying. She’s a bother—”

“HYUNG STOP!” Yedam yelled, noticing how your expression changed drastically the moment you heard Junkyu’s words this time.

Hyunsuk immediately placed his hand on your shoulder, feeling shocked. But right now, he was more worried about you because you heard it all.

The air felt heavy in the kitchen…everyone going silent for a few seconds.

And then slowly, Junkyu turned around, his eyes meeting yours.

“Y-y/n…” he said, his voice slightly shaking now.

You stood there quietly, your fingers fiddling with the paper bag in your hand.

You blinked a couple times, your gaze slowly avoiding his. What is this feeling you’re having right now? Why does your chest hurt so bad?

Junkyu could hear his own heartbeat sounds ringing in his ears. He felt bad. He felt really bad. He saw how you slowly looked away from him, making him feel even worst.

Junkyu couldn’t handle the heavy tension going on in the kitchen so he immediately dashes out of the kitchen, leaving everyone else behind him.

You felt his presence leave you, as he passes by you. You bit your lower lip, holding in the tears that were forming in your eyes now.

Everyone else exchanged glances with one another, wondering what they should do now.

Mashiho switched off the stove, knowing that he should at least save their meals from getting burnt since he had a feeling that what had happened would take up some time to be solved.

Yedam lets out a heavy sigh, deciding to approach you since you wouldn’t stop staring at the paper bag in your hands now.

“Damn,” Jihoon muttered to himself as he tossed the knife that he had been holding since just now. He shook his head as he made his way to leave the kitchen.

As he passed by Hyunsuk, his hyung raised a hand, implying him to stop.

“What is it, hyung?” Jihoon said in an exasperated tone.

“Go easy on him,” Hyunsuk adviced, knowing that Jihoon would definitely go to console his best friend.

“Hm.” Jihoon hummed as he nods. He leaves the kitchen, not sparing a glance at you.

Treasure Dorm #1 (Junkyu’s Room)

Junkyu closed the door behind him. He started breathing raggedly, his breaths uncontrollable by now. Is he having a panic attack right now?

He tried to walk towards his bed, but instead, his legs failed him. He ended up kneeling on the floor instead, trying to catch his breath.

He kept imagining the pained look you gave him earlier. He knew, he had hurt you. He had hurt you bad. He messed up badly this time.

Junkyu clenched his fists, his chest hurting, his head throbbing. He felt pain all over. Why? Why did he have to utter all those nonsense about you? He didn’t mean all of it. He really didn’t. He cares about you.

Junkyu lets out a soft sob, unable to hold his tears this time. He felt his tears streaming down his cheeks by now.

“Junkyu!” He heard Jihoon’s voice calling his name.

Jihoon hurriedly closed the door behind him, quickly approaching his best friend who was close to collapsing onto the floor.

Jihoon wrapped his arms around Junkyu, pulling his best friend up to his feet, dragging him over towards the bed.

Once he had made sure Junkyu was already sitting comfortably on the bed, Jihoon sat down on the floor, facing Junkyu.

Junkyu covered his face with his hands, softly sobbing into them.

“Junkyu…”

“Stop. Please, stop. I know. I know,” he said, his sobs getting louder.

Jihoon placed his hand onto Junkyu’s knee, patting it gently. He couldn’t bear watching Junkyu cry like this. It’s rare enough to see Junkyu cry about something but right now, seeing him as a sobbing mess, Jihoon couldn’t help but sympathise him.

“I hurt her, hyung. I hurt her. I’m a horrible person!” Junkyu tried to speak up this time, his sobs a little under control now.

Jihoon shook his head. “No, no Junkyu. You’re not a bad person. You slipped, that’s all. Okay? You didn’t mean what you said, did you?”

Junkyu wiped the tear streaks on his face with the back of his hand. He shook his head furiously, “No way! I don’t! I really don’t. I just—I was just upset when Yedam said Chani and y/n looked like a couple…I…I don’t want to have to picture them being together, hyung!”

“I know, I know…” Jihoon answered softly, his hand still patting Junkyu’s knee gently.

“Hyung….how do I fix this…? Y/n must hate me right now,”

“No…she wouldn’t, okay? Y/n is a nice person, she wouldn’t hate you in one day,” Jihoon assured his best friend.

Junkyu shook his head again. “No! She would, she deserves to hate me!”

Junkyu took a deep breath, trying to control his own ragged breathing.

Pushing his hair to the back with one hand, Junkyu continued, “I told you…I told you, didn’t I? That liking her would bring us something like this,”

“Junkyu, there’s nothing wrong with you liking y/n, okay?”

“No, hyung! You know this. You can see it too, right?”

Junkyu lets out another heavy sigh.

“Yah…Kim Junkyu…it’s all gonna be alright, get it?”

Junkyu kept quiet for a while, sniffling once or twice. He contemplated for a while before asking his hyung another question.

“You said last time that you had a feeling that someone would like y/n among us, and you said that you knew who it was going to be, right??”

Jihoon nodded, remembering the talk they had after you all had that first lunch-meet with y/n.

“That person…who was it?” Junkyu’s eyes were now staring into Jihoon’s.

“I—” Jihoon lets out a sigh. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s you! Why do you think I keep pushing you to talk to her? Why do I keep teasing you about y/n? I even made sure y/n sits opposite you most of the time whenever we eat together, just so you both could stare at each other’s faces,”

Junkyu wiped his tear-stained eyes again. “W-what?” he sniffled.

“Duh! The moment we first met y/n, I had a feeling you both were attracted to each other. You both just needed a little push, that’s all.” Jihoon was no longer patting his best friend’s knee now, seeing that he had stopped crying.

“Hyung…”

“Aigoo! Look at you, crying like this. Yah, how are you going to face y/n later?” Jihoon chuckled softly, teasing Junkyu.

“Y-yah. I’m still handsome,”

“Pfft, yeah sure. Tell that to your red nose and puffy eyes,”

Junkyu swallowed the invisible lump in his throat, a small smile creeping on his lips as he succumbed to Jihoon’s teasing.

Jihoon lets out a sigh.

“Hyung…can I ask you a question?”

“Hm? What is it?”

“You see it too, right?

“See what?”

Junkyu clicked his tongue. “Tsk, you know, hyung. I know, you know.”

“Junkyu I don’t have time for your out-of-the-world curiosity,” Jihoon said as he shook his head.

“Aw come on hyung. You know. You know…that I’m not the only one who likes y/n, right?”

“Duhh, of course! It’s you and that Chani kid,”

Junkyu shook his head again. “No. Someone else. Someone else in our group.”

Jihoon’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

And as if on cue, Junkyu’s bedroom door opened.

Both of them turned to see—Hyunsuk entering, closing the door right after.

“Hyunsuk-hyung.” Both Junkyu and Jihoon said at the same time.

Treasure Dorm #1 (Kitchen)

When Jihoon left the kitchen to go console Junkyu who had stormed off, Yedam and Hyunsuk stayed by your side to make sure you were okay.

You were still staring at the paper bag in your hand.

You had planned to return Junkyu’s shirt today, and maybe talk to him. It’s funny how you sort of miss him, when in reality, the both of you usually only made small talk with each other.

“Y/n, I…” Yedam tried to speak, but then he stopped. He shook his head. He wouldn’t know how to fix this right now. All that he knew was that you must have felt sad after hearing what his hyung said earlier.

Hyunsuk pulled you closer to him, wrapping one arm around you, causing you to lean your head against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry y/n” he whispered to you.

Yedam stood still beside the both of you, his face still showing concern over you. He should have stopped Junkyu much earlier, he thought.

Doyoung and Mashiho, who were still near the kitchen stove too, watched over you, not continuing their cooking.

You tried your best to not feel sad, you didn’t want your friends to worry over you too much. But how? You still felt the sharp pain in your chest, and you know it’s not a heart attack that you’re having right now.

You let yourself lean comfortably in Hyunsuk’s arm that was wrapped around you, and without realising, a tear flowed down your cheek.

“Y/n,” Yedam said in a sad tone when he noticed you crying.

Hyunsuk immediately wrapped both his arms around you, hugging you close to him. “Shh, shh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry y/n,”

You closed your eyes and you felt your tears wetting your cheeks even more now. Crap. You’re crying now.

Yedam looked around the room, noticing that both Doyoung and Mashiho were looking super sad as they watched you silently crying in Hyunsuk’s arms.

“I…I just…” You said softly.

“Hm? What is it, y/n?” Hyunsuk leaned close to you, wanting to hear what you were saying clearly.

“I just…” you stopped to swallow a silent sob before continuing, “I just wanted to see him…I just wanted to return his shirt, that’s all. I didn’t know…that all these while I was annoying him,” your voice straining as you said the final words that pained you.

Hyunsuk and Yedam exchanged glances with each other.

After a few minutes of silently sobbing, you slowly lifted your head from Hyunsuk’s embrace, making him releasing his arms from you gently.

You wiped your tears and took a deep breath. “Hyunsuk,”

“Yes?”

“Could you help me return this to him?” you asked, as you pushed the paper bag in your hand to his.

“N-now?”

“Anytime works. I…I don’t think I should see him for now. He’s…clearly annoyed with me being here,” you said half-jokingly. You tried to giggle when you said this, but it only made you sound even sadder than you look right now.

Hyunsuk held onto the bag that you gave him. “Sure. I’ll give it to him. Don’t worry, he’s not annoyed with you, I’m sure of that,” he said, trying to assure you.

You chuckled softly. “Clearly he is, but it’s okay.”

You took a deep breath and pushed your hair behind your ears. Forcing yourself to smile at your friends, you tried your best to sound okay when you said, “So, you both making lunch today?” You asked Doyoung and Mashiho that had been staring at you.

“Uhh, ah yeah. We’re making kimchi jjigae…” Doyoung answered you.

“Smells good,”

“Thanks,” Doyoung said as he nodded slightly towards you.

Mashiho turned towards the stove again, “We’ll resume cooking, alright? And then we’ll all eat together.” Mashiho turned to look at you, flashing his warm smile at you.

You smiled a small smile and nodded.

“Yedamie, you take y/n to the living room, okay? Let her rest up there. I’m gonna go check on Junkyu for a bit,” Hyunsuk said to Yedam.

“Okay, hyung.”

Hyunsuk leaned down close to you, his face levelling with yours. He stroked your cheek with one hand and said to you gently, “I’m gonna go first, okay? Don’t cry no more. It’s gonna be okay.”

You stared into his eyes for a couple seconds before nodding slowly.

And with that, Hyunsuk left the kitchen, your paper bag consisting of Junkyu’s shirt in his hand.

Yedam linked his arm around yours, “Come on y/n. Let’s rest up in the living room, okay?”

Treasure Dorm #1 (Living Room)

Now, bringing you to the living room isn’t really the best idea as of the moment—

Why?

Well, you see, the moment Yedam and you approached the rest of the kids who were in the living room, they were all shocked to see your tear-stained face and flushed complexion.

Unlike the rest who were busy gaping over what they were seeing, Junghwan immediately got up on his feet and rushed over to you.

“Noona! What happened? Why…? Did you cry earlier??”

“Shh, let y/n sit first,” Yedam said softly to the maknae.

Haruto got up from his seat on the sofa and pointed towards the seat, telling you to sit there.

You were still in a daze after your crying earlier so you simply complied with whatever they told you to do.

Finally sitting down, you leaned back against the cushion behind you.

Yoshi, who was sitting closely beside Jeongwoo and Jaehyuk after helping them clean up earlier, decided to go to the kitchen to get you some water since you looked restless at the moment.

Asahi, who was seated beside you right now, turned to look at you—his usual expressionless face showing.

“So…what exactly happened…” Jeongwoo said slowly.

Yedam sat down on the floor, close to the boy asking the question and lets out a sigh.

“Something…happened in the kitchen.”

“Like…?”

“Just…something.” Yedam answered simply.

“That’s not very helpful Yedam,” Jaehyuk said this time. “How are we supposed to know what happened if you don’t tell us,”

You bit your lower lip as you felt it quivering again. It’s all happening again. You could still hear Junkyu’s voice in the back of your head, even when you’re shutting your eyes right now.

“Y/n is annoying.”

Your chest felt tight once again. You opened your eyes and sat up straight, surprising the rest who were still prodding Yedam to tell them what happened.

You stood up from the sofa and looked around you. The faces of your friends showing a mixture of concern and confusion.

You shook your head. “I…I think I’ll leave now,”

You were about to leave but then Yedam quickly grabs your hand. “Y/n? Aren’t you joining us for lunch?”

You shook your head slowly. “Maybe next time, okay?” you said, your voice shaking now. You looked at Yedam, your eyes glossy with tears that you were trying to hold back.

“Y/n…”

“It’s okay! I’m okay!” You said as you faked a laugh.

Yedam hesitantly lets go of your hand. He didn’t want you to go. But he also didn’t want to force you.

You quickly walked towards the house entrance, not looking back and immediately grabbing your shoes in your hand, as you leave the front door.

Yedam lets out a heavy sigh once you were gone from their sight.

“Hyung, what happened…?” Haruto asked this time.

Yedam sighs again before saying, “I’ll tell you all about it in a bit. I need to go tell Hyunsuk-hyung that Y/n left,”

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Front door)

The moment you stepped out of their dorm, the door shutting behind you, you walked as fast as you could, hoping that you’ll be far enough from them for now.

It was at least few metres away from their dorm’s door that you stopped to lean your side against the wall of the corridor to control your breathing.

You felt out of breath because you had been holding in your tears, and now…it’s just hurting you.

Slowly, your shoulder still resting against the wall, you slide down to your feet. By now you’re already kneeling on the floor with your palm holding onto the wall for support.

A loud sob escaped your lips. Ah crap. Now you’re starting to cry out the tears you’ve been holding in. And you’re doing it in public too.

But could you blame yourself for being this sad and dramatic?

“Y/n is annoying.”

You shook your head, trying to stop yourself from hearing to those words over again.

Is this your first time being called annoying? Maybe. But would you care if anyone called you annoying? No.

Then why was this hurting you too much?

Was it because you thought that Junkyu and you were finally becoming friends?

You thought the both of you were already clicking. You thought….that maybe, Junkyu had liked being friends with you. He was more open with you recently…then why? Why did he say that about you?

You thought…ah, that’s right.

You thought.

You kept thinking that everything was working out fine with you both. You’ve never clearly thought if Junkyu himself was enjoying being friends with you.

You swallowed your sob, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“Silly me. He’s clearly annoyed with me all this while. He’s just too nice to say it to my face,” you muttered to yourself.

You blinked and again you felt your tears wet your cheeks.

You’re starting to feel annoyed with yourself too by now, considering you wouldn’t stop crying.

Why are you this sad?? You shook your head softly. Could it be…that you have some feelings for him? Have you caught feelings for Junkyu and yet you never realised it?

You pushed your hair back and took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from crying again.

Slowly, you got up on your feet and tried to stand up properly now.

You should just hurry and return to your apartment unit, you thought. Maybe make yourself a cup of warm drink and just calm yourself down.

And just as you stepped forward, you suddenly felt a pair of arms pulling you from behind.

The arms hugged your waist tightly, and you felt the back of your head resting against someone’s chest.

The familiar voice said to you softly, “You’re not annoying. You were never annoying. He’s stupid to think of you that way.”

You then felt yourself being hugged closer by the boy behind you. “You…you’re so nice to us. You don’t deserve to be told as annoying at all,” he added, sounding upset.

To be continued…

#ALIY #sandwichrin #treasure #treasure fanfic #TREASURE IMAGINE #ygtreasure #treasuremembers #alltreasuremembers #JunKyu #kim junkyu #junkyu x reader #junkyu scenarios #kimjunkyu #kim junkyu x reader #kimjunkyu x reader #treasurefanfic #treasurefic

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summerlovingbaby · 3 years

Text

tfatws Not My Captain P1

“ I don’t know Sam maybe this is the wrong address.” Bucky said knocking on the door once more. “ We should just leave, and think of something else.” Bucky said looking for any reason to leave.

“ She’s probably just not home, lets just wait a few minutes.” Sam responded.

A few seconds later a motorcycle that was speeding down the street, came to a halt in front of the house. A woman stepped off the bike, and took of a helmet, 2 long sweeping braids fall out of the helmet and landed on her back. She balance the bike helmet on the handlebars.

She took off her sunglasses and tucked them in her shirt. She started walking up the sidewalk , and started fishing around the back pocket of her jeans for keys .She was the spitting image of her father, they had the same eyes, and the same brown hair though hers was way longer than his . Y/N Stark. Shew was a few feet away from the porch, she saw them.

“ What are you doing here?” Y/N asked.

“ It’s kind of a long story. ”Bucky said scratching his head.

Y/N pushed past the pair, and shoved the key in the keyhole. She forced open the door so forcefully that it swung open wide. At the door was waiting a few dogs and a cat. She walked through the cavalcade of 4 legged animals and bent down and pet one of them. She walked in her house and fought the urge to slam the door behind her.

“ Are you going to come in?” She asked without looking at them

They followed her into the house and trailed her through the kitchen. They scurried to the kitchen and sat down at the table , and sat down at the kitchen table. Their bags placed next to them. She disappeared to the living room and threw her backpack on the couch. Bucky and Sam could hear her loud sigh from the kitchen. When she came back in Bucky and Sam really got to look at her, she looked not great.

Instead of joining them at the kitchen table, she scurried about the kitchen doing things. She pulled out baking pans and flour from her pantry, After a few awkward moments she finally spoke.

“Are you here about Wanda?” Y/N asked bluntly, she sounded asperated.

“ Wanda?” Sam questioned. “ What happened with Wanda?”

“ Nothing... never mind.” Y/N said shaking her head slightly.

“ Pepper called me, she’s worried about you.” Sam said.

" Why would she be worried?” Y/N asked, she was now measuring ingredients.

“ She’s been sending you checks every other weeks, says you haven’t been cashing them.” Sam said using the voice he always used when he was talking to veterans. Y/N continued to busy herself about the kitchen, she only shrugged in response. “ Says you haven’t touched her trust fund either.” Sam started digging through his bag. “ She also called me in hysterics, said you were in the hospital. Twice.” This caused Y/N’s eyes to grow wide. She took a shaky breath. Sam placed two files on the kitchen table.

“ Twice?” Bucky questioned. His eyes darted to Y/N and he was suddenly scanning her. He took notice of the brace of the wrist and ankle. He started to reach for the file, but Y/N snatched it before he could grab it.

“ How did she find out?” Y/N asked, she stopped what she was doing, and looked defeated.

“ She’s still you’re emergency contact, are you okay?” Sam said.

Y/N discarded the files on the kitchen counter. She started mixing ingredients, she took a weary breath and she closed her eyes for a bit.

“ Did you read it?” She asked.

“ No.” Sam said looking at her with empathy. “ I’m asking you again... are you okay?”

Bucky looked at Y/N with confused wide eyes it was clear that he was missing something.

“ I’m fine... tell Pepper I’m fine.” Y/N said through baited and harsh breaths.

“ Okay. I’ll tell her.” Sam responded.

“ How is Pepper and Morgan?” Y/N asked.

“ There doing okay, would be better if they had you.” Sam said.

“ I’ll call, I will, I promise.” Y/N said giving Sam a trustful nod.

“ Okay. I’ll tell them that you’re okay.” Sam said nodded back.

“ Thanks. Now why are you really here?” Y/N asked.

“ We need help.” Bucky said, his eyes were darting around the room.

“ With?” Y/N asked her eyes were drier now.

“ It’s complicated.” Sam said looking at the ground.

“ Is it because you gave up the shield?” Y/N asked, still mixing the batter.

“ How did you know about that?” Sam said defensive.

“ I saw it on the news. I don’t live under a rock. Giving it up was a mistake Sam.” Y/N said, she said placing the cupcakes in the oven.

“ I didn’t realize that at the time.” Sam said, his eyes darted to the floor.

“ Steve gave it to you for a reason, if he wanted the government to have it, he would have gave it to them.” Y/N said.

“ I’m aware of that fact.” Sam said, he sounded less ashamed and more angry.

“ That shield meant a lot of things to a lot of people, including Tony.” Y/N said she just sounded so tired.

“ You’re one to talk, you didn’t even come to Tony’s funeral.” Sam said standing up, and pounding his fist on the table.

“ You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to come into my house and give me crap, especially after you gave up the shield.” Y/N said slamming her hands on the table.

“ You don’t now anything about that.”

“ Oh I know plenty.” Y/N said through her teeth.

“ Clearly not enough.” Sam said, his voice raised.

“ I know enough to know that giving up that shield was a mistake. Steve made mistakes, but you two were not one of them.” She said pointing at the two men.

“ You didn’t even know Steve-” Bucky interjected.

“ I knew Steve. You were gone for 5 years. He was my friend.” Y/n said raising her voice.

“ I’ve known Steve my whole life, you’ve known him for 5 minutes, he made plenty of mistakes.” Bucky said, now everybody was standing.

“ I never said he didn’t make any mistakes, I said that you two weren’t one of them.” Y/N said, her brows were furrowed and she was speaking through her teeth.

“ You don’t know anything about me.” Bucky said.

“ Oh.. don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. I know plenty.” Y/N said through a snarky smile that made Bucky take a step back.

Y/N awoke to a soft knocking on her door, she checked the clock on the wall, and was surprised to see that it was 3am. She begrudgingly got out of bed and limped through the hallway and to the door. She looked through the peephole to see Sargent Barnes on her doorstep with flowers. She opened the door.

“ Sargent Barnes, what are you doing here? Y/N asked leaning on the doorframe for support.

“ Sorry if it’s a bad time.” He responded, his hair looked moist and he looked upset.

“ It’s 3am Sargent.”

“ I’m sorry... I probably should have waited til’ morning.” Bucky said brushing his fingers through his hair.

“ It’s fine... sleep is for losers anyway.” Y/N said laughing at her on joke. “ Did you need something?”

“ My therapist wants me to make amends.” Bucky said. Y/N nodded confused.

“ And that involves me how?”

“ I never got to apologize to Tony, and I realized that I owe you an apology too.”

“ Why do you owe me an apology?”

“ I’m sorry for killing your grandpa...and trying to kill Tony.”

“ It’s okay.”

“ It isn’t okay.” Bucky’s eyes started to well into tears.

“ I forgive you.” Y/N said. Bucky’s eyes went wide, and a few tears streamed from his face. He tried to stifle a sob, but ended up collapsing onto Y/N in a fit of tear. That was the first time that somebody that he hurt forgave him. Not pardoned him, or excused his actions or blamed the “ Winter Solider”. But actually forgave him.

“ Why did we even come here?” Bucky said, slamming back down to the floor.

“ You came here because you need help and you turned down Walker, and you’re starting to think that was a mistake.” Y/N said her beginning to calm down as well.

“ John Walker?” Sam said throwing a glance at Bucky

“ Yes ,John Walker. Is there another Walker that would be relevant right now?”

“ How do you know Walker?” Bucky asked

“ He came here.”Y/N responded casually.

“ He came here? When?” Sam pressed.

“ A while ago, why?” Y/N asked.

“What did he want?” Bucky pressed.

“ Help. Cause he’s in over his head, just like you are.” Y/N said pointing at Bucky and Sam.

“ Did you tell him anything?” Sam asked rolling his eyes.

“ About the Flag Smashers? No.”

“ How do you know about the Flag Smashers?” Bucky asked

“Have you met me?” Y/N replied with a chuckle.

“ What did you find out?” Sam asked.

“ There a group of vigilantes, want a world without borders, where everyone has access to basic resources and stuff. The leader is a girl named Sin, she was displaced by the blip. They haven’t killed anybody, but the pattern could only escalate.”

“ That’s what were afraid of.” Bucky said.

“ Are you in?” Sam asked.

“ Its what Steve would do.” Bucky said.

“ I’m very well aware of what Steve would do. And I’m in. You can spend the night tonight, and we’ll come up with a plan tomorrow.”

TAGLIST INFO

@austynparksandpizza @footballaddictsblog @goddessgaga

@buckybarnes1991 @jungkookdingdong @tofeartheunknown

@yasminwashere @sunsetcurvej

#tfatws #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #tfatws sam #tfatws bucky #sam wilson #the winter solider imagine #bucky x avenger!reader #the avengers #the winter soilder #tfatws series

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

august

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: cheating, age gap

a/n: i wanted to write this chapter to show how y/n’s and lee’s affair began and to show how y/n shaped lee or his point of view. this song is mostly based off august from taylor swift (bc we all know at this point that i’ll just write fanfics based of any folklore/evermore songs) and war of hearts from ruelle. this one is not smut, the next one (illicit affairs) is gonna be. additionally, i’ve come to the conclusion that knockemstiff y/n dressed like betty draper and after-knockemstiff y/n dresses likes meg draper and that is canon. btw if you’re interested in what she’s wearing in this chapter here [x] p.s.: lee’s not captain yet in this chapter

> ILLICIT AFFAIRS

Salt air and the rust on your door, I never needed anything more. Whispers of are you sure? Never have I ever before. But I can see us lost in the memory, August slipped away into a moment in time ‘cause it was never mine

August was an odd month this year; the godless and sunless town was going through the biggest heatwave anyone could remember. Most habitants were in the parks and outside their homes in plastic chairs enjoying the heat, however, in Y/N’s house, they were baking apple pies with the apples leftover from the little apple tree farm they had a bit south from the town centre. Y/N had suggested they just gave away the apples but her grandmother, ever the traditional woman, believed the best way to show appreciation would be to bake something. “It shows you care, Y/N” as if she cared about anyone in this god forbidden town. She couldn’t wait to pack her bags and go to the big city where she can be something other than a trophy wife. Besides, it wasn’t like there were any available suitable husband options around.

She wiped the flour out of her forehead as she placed the last pie in the oven. 24 pies, surely that would account for a high electricity bill at the end of the month. Not that it mattered anyway, her grandmother could more than afford it after all she was the woman right now sat at the kitchen table, giving out plates as if they cost nothing.

- Y/N, sweetheart, can you go and deliver the pie on the living room. It’s already cold and I don’t want it to go stale.

- Yeah, sure.

- To Captain Bodecker’s house. Promised Jane I’d send her one.

- Captain Bodecker’s? But that’s in town. - she scratched her elbows. She’d rather not go to Captain Bodecker’s house yet again he probably wasn’t even around, always busy in the station. - Can I take the car?

- It’s a 20 minute walk, it’s sunny outside and you’re young. Save on gas.

- But ...

- Y/N, you better be outside with that pie in 5 seconds or we’ll have a problem. - she interrupted.

Y/N sighed, unlacing the back of her apron and placing it on the hook. Just great, that’s all she needed today, to walk to the town centre to deliver one of the pies she had just spent the whole morning preparing. She guessed it could’ve been worse, she could’ve had to go deliver it to the police station then Captain Bodecker would’ve definitely been there. It wasn’t that she disliked him, quite the opposite. Back when she volunteered at the precinct he was the only one who was nice to her or at least the only one who wouldn’t try to put his hand under her skirt. He’d even memorised her name which not even the Sheriff who had hired her knew, to this day whenever he saw her he still called her Bella. He was nice to her and she couldn’t say she hadn’t developed a little school girl crush on him, despite the fact he was married. He’d even stood up for her when her manager started screaming at her. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stand being in his presence, feeling like whatever she said would get her in trouble. His wife wasn’t someone she enjoyed either; Jane Bodecker was known for having quite the sharp gossiping tongue. Most of her friends commented their “men friends” would comment how she used to have quite the reputation while at high school and whenever she saw her at the shop, she’d always call her Little Miss Perfect or make some side comment about how she was occupying a job that someone else needed. Still, Y/N could deal with Jane, a little smile, a nod and she was ready to deal with the devil.

The sun scorched her skin as she walked her last minutes til the Bodecker residence. It was a nice home, recently painted with some nice flowers in the front garden yet there were rumours of Captain Bodecker wanting to move to Brewer Heights. Y/N didn’t know how she’d react if during her morning walks she passed by him, so she counted it only as rumours. Standing in front of the red door, she held the pie in one hand and knocked against it with the other one. She stood there waiting for someone to come in until footsteps made her wake up from her dream-like state and prepare to deal with Jane. However, as the door open, a familiar silhouette had her heart racing.

- Y/N, what brings you here? - she watched him dressed in casual clothing, something she barely saw if she had ever seen; jeans and a white t-shirt.

- Captain Bodecker ... I ... I was looking for your wife. My grandmother sent this. - she held up the pie in front of her. - She said Mrs. Bodecker wanted one.

- Jane’s ... out. Come in. - he opened the door wider for her but she remained in the same place like a statue. - Come on, it’s too hot out. Don’t want no fainting lass complains on my day off. ‘Sides, don’t you want a slice of pie?

- I really shouldn’t.

- You can say no if you want to. No need to be afraid of me, Y/N. - he leaned against the doorframe. - Thank you for the pie, though.

- I guess I can stay a bit. - she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. Lee couldn’t help but shamelessly check her out as she walked inside his home. It was no secret she was a beautiful woman, heck, Lee thought her to be the prettiest little thing to ever arrive into town, with her sunny smile and pretty dresses. This one was no different, lavender which complimented her so well with a little white rope tied around her waist into a bow, like a little present. Nevertheless, he kept it under wraps he was a married man besides every man in town shamelessly harassed her, despite the side eye he gave them.

He watched as the fabric of her dress swung with the movement of her hips. Lee surely didn’t expect such a pretty girl to walk into his home, had he known he would’ve made an effort to fix the mess that was his house. Normally Jane tended to keep that sorted as he usually spent the day and night at work, but with her staying with her mother after their last fight. It wasn’t anything new, she always did that whenever they fought and then would return after Lee made a fool of himself by begging her to return and that he was wrong during the fight. Still, she placed the pie on his kitchen table with a gentleness and posture which mirrored her privileged upbringing. He couldn’t lie and say his mind hadn’t wandered around how she would look when she eventually got married, after all that was the future of all Knockemstiff women. He also couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t wondered how she would look as his wife. She was sweet, with a sharp mind which definitely had not been appreciated in the precinct. Despite this, productivity seemed to raise whenever she called out any officers who had their feet on top of their desks instead of doing paperwork. He still remembered having to always keep an eye on her, were any officers to get too rowdy with her. Yet, she didn’t care and she held herself and believed herself to deserve the same respect as every working man in Knockemstiff. Although he imagined how she would be as a wife, he had to admit he couldn’t see her ever being some Knockemstiff’s man’s wife and with the example from her grandmother, she was surely on the path to be a rebellion starter.

- Big fan of apple pie, Y/N?

- My grandmother refuses to sell the apples so instead I woke up at 6AM and have been baking apple pies nonstop. She says it shows I care.

- Never thought you to be found of Knockemstiff residents.

- And I am not. - she spoke as if the mere thought of it offended her. - She said she promised Jane one.

- Don’t think Jane will be back for a while. - he leaned against the kitchen door, watching her place the pie onto his kitchen table. - You can take half that pie, if you want.

- Trust me, I have my share of apple pie at home. - she folded her hands on top of her stomach. - Uhm ... Do you want me to cut you a slice of pie? I normally take mine with a bit of vanilla ice cream on top. It’s gorgeous, the warmth of the pie and the cold of the ice cream. You should try it?

- You’re just full of ideas, aren’t ya? - he sat on the wooden chair as she sliced the pie to the best of her abilities. - Shouldn’t you be at university, or someth’ng?

- Well, grandma had the stroke and she’s not as motile as she used to be. I’ve been taking some classes at Ohio University but it’s not the same, it’s ...

- It’s not the big city, ain’t it? - he added.

- It’s not that I dislike Knockemstiff, Captain ...

- Yeah you do. - he interrupted her. - Just don’t let the Sheriff hear it. He already ain’t too found of ya.

- Nobody in that precinct liked me. - she rolled her eyes. - Well, they did but I did not like them in that way.

- I liked ya. Whenever you screamed at Leroy it always made my day.

- Leroy’s the most incompetent person I know. All he does is pimp girls out as if he discovered prostitution. I feel sorry for the girls.

- He does a good service.

- Of course you’d know. - she pushed her hair away from her shoulders, feeling the sweat roll down her neck. God it was, too hot. Lee furrowed his brown, laying the fork onto the porcelain plate. She caught his look, brow raising over in a playful, smug kind of way, before she laid her hands on the table. - I’ve seen it before.

- You’ve seen it before?

- Don’t worry, I didn’t see IT, but I saw Jenny get in the car with you just after graduation. I know what she does, she would call me all the time whenever Leroy was being an ass.

- Oh ...

- Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything. Everyone in this town cheats, mostly because everyone in this town marries someone just because they think that will save them from Hell. No one is saved if they’re born in Knockemstiff, not even me.

- You mean to tell me you’ve done bad things, Y/N? ‘Cause I don’t believe it.

- I’ve never done it but I’ve thought bad things. All the time. - her gaze lowered from his face to his waist before returning back to his eyes. It was a millisecond gaze, something she herself knew but he didn’t notice, no matter how observant he was. There were no perfect men in Knockemstiff, but in Y/N’s mind he was her perfect man. After all, there are no perfect men anywhere, even Saints sin and then die heroically to get into heaven. Y/N would rather sin than die for people who would’ve had her accidentally killed many times if it weren’t for her grandmother’s name and status in town. What’s the fun in being good? Every time she was good she got yelled at, someone put her hand under her skirt or tried to pin her against a wall. She was good, she would just rather sin so people wouldn’t taint her goodness. It’s a question of self preservation, at least that’s what she told herself.

- That doesn’t make you bad. If so there wouldn’t be good people.

- There are no good people. - she added, ever the negative person she was, something she had inherited from her mother and which everyone who knew her could trace back to. - All people are born so they could be buried. Everything you do ... in a 100 years they won’t remember everything and all that be left of you is your burial site. That’s your legacy.

- Such negative views for someone who wants out of Knockemstiff. I thought you’d have a better outlook on things.

- I’m never getting out of here. - she sighed, almost used to the idea that she was going to stay no matter how long she fought it. - I’m gonna die here.

- Dying ain’t so bad. - he leaned against his chair. Y/N smiled at him, looking around his home. It was messy yes but it was still a good home yet that wasn’t what she noticed. Looking out the window, she saw a built in pool. She didn’t remember hearing the Captain had a pool. Sure, he had a the better salary compared to everyone else in town except for the Sheriff, Mayor, and her grandmother. Yet she had never heard of him having a pool, not even she had one.

- You have a pool?

- Yeah, built it back when Sandy used to come over to wind up from the dinner job. She’s married now so I don’t think she wants a pool at her big brother’s home anymore.

- I don’t think anyone in town has a pool. - she rose from her chair and walked to the window in a lavender rush. - It’s gorgeous.

- You can come over whenever you want, Y/N.

- Can I go now? - she looked over her shoulder to him. The idea of being able to swim while the boiling august heat continued to shine down onto the hellish town. Somehow it made sense yet it didn’t. Lee cocked his head to the side, wondering if he’d misheard her words or if she was really considering swimming into his pool. Unwanted feeling stirred south of him and he punished himself mentally for imagining the lavender flower girl in such ways.

- Well, uh ... you don’t have a swimming costume. - he babbled like a confused, stunned child.

- I can swim on my undergarments. It’s pretty much a lace embroidered swimming costume. - Lee merely nodded, not knowing exactly what to do but knowing he was flirting with sin, looking at an abysses and seeming not to fear that he was going straight into it.

Y/N walked from the window up to the kitchen door which led over to the garden. The once white door had withered with time, turning slightly yellowish with rust on the borders, the glass of the small see through windows cracked yet remaining its shape. The door seemed to be a small reminder of what was still wrong in the Captain’s life but she chose not to dwell over it, no to think about it. She felt the cobblestones against her feet covered by an old pair of white ballerina slips as her mirrored image became clear in the crystalline pool water.

Lee on the other hand watched like a hawk, from the rusted door he’d broken so many bottles of liquor against, as her lavender fabric fell to the dirty cobblestones. The contrast of the prim expensive dress against the cobblestones which had aged as badly as he had done was telling. At least it was telling enough for him and he wondered if this was a gift from God or if the devil was toying with him. The devil is in the details, his mother used to say, yet as she emerged from the water, hands pulling down her hair, he was almost entirely sure the devil was the girl in his pool, the same girl who had worn white dresses until her 18th birthday. Yet again, the devil was once an angel and to him, she was closer to becoming a fallen one than continuing to wear shades of white.

- You don’t swim, captain? - she asked as she swam to the border of the pool.

- I don’t enjoy doing it. - he stayed glued to the door, a good distance from her to ensure he didn’t get tempted. - You gonna just swim around like a mermaid, huh?

- It’s better in the water than on the cobblestones, I tell ya. - she dipped into the water once again only to return to the surface, water droplets rolling down from her plump skin. - Come on, captain. You’re gonna leave me swimming by my lonesome? During the hottest day in Knockemstiff?

- You’re a trouble stirrer.

- Maybe I’m just bored. - she smiled at him. He knew she wasn’t tempting him, he knew Y/N. She liked to tease around, she enjoyed the freedoms which she imposed onto herself and as such she was much different from the women he knew. Not that he knew any women outside of Knockemstiff. He’d been born and raised here and all the women he saw from out of Knockemstiff were on his television screen. - Come on, Captain. It’s your pool.

- I don’t want you to see my belly.

- I don’t care, besides, if it’s that bad then come into your clothing. - her arms rested upon the pool border, wondering eyes tempting even the saint of all saints. Lee looked at the cold water reflecting the afternoon sunlight beams, trying to avoid the thoughts that crossed his mind before turning around. He let his jean trousers pool to the ground along with his shoes before entering the water using the ladder. He was almost sure he’d make her laugh if he were to jump into the water.

The water was cold and dripped from his skin in crystal like drops. Y/N offered him a playful smile, swimming close to him with that wide eye child naughty fun look only she managed to still hold intact. She held her hands slightly back before pushing the water towards him.

- You tellin’ me you invited me in for a water fight? - he chuckled at her actions.

- Afraid I’ll win?

- Kid, you’re much too tiny to win against me.

- Wanna bet? - she threw water again at him, swimming closer and closer to him before anchoring herself against him, hands on his shoulders. - I bet you as many apple pies as you want.

- Yeah, I’m trying not to gain any more weight, kid.

- You have beautiful eyes, I’ve never noticed. - she made eye contact with him, seeing her own reflection in his light blue eyes. Maybe she’d never notice because the uniform was so dark blue his eyes reflected it like mirrors, yet they were light. - They’re gorgeous.

- Trying to make me blush, kid?

- Just never noticed.

- Well huh ... - he could listen to his heart beating and drumming against his chest along with the soft movement of the water. All his eyes could see was her, her hands holding onto his shoulders and her angelic face looking at him. - Thanks, you have nice eyes too.

- You can’t take a compliment, Captain. - she teased.

- I don’t think I’m deserving of any, specially coming from you, kid.

- What is that supposed to mean?

- You know what the men say in town. They think you’re the prettiest thing in a skirt to ever pace around here. Pretty sure they’ll kill each other trying to get your favour.

- My favour? Is that what you think I’m good for?

- No ... I ... That’s not what I meant. - his face creased. - I’m just telling you what I hear.

- You seem to know a lot of gossip about me, captain. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been asking around.

- What if I have? - Lee watched for the first time her mouth shut close. She didn’t know what to say next, eyebrows furrowed together as she inspected his face, slow blinking. Her eyes left his to look at the water back at him. - Just looking out for you ... not a lot of people like you ‘round town.

He hands gripped his shoulder as she swam closer to him. Her intention was to hug him thank you. Of course she didn’t expect no one to look out for her, she didn’t care about what a bunch of housewives and hopeless alcoholics thought of her. She knew he didn’t inspire adoration in them other. As she got closed to him, he leaned down, capturing her lips into his. Her hands slide from her shoulders to his chest, almost as if she wanted to be the good one and push him away. He was married after all. However, as his lips moved against hers she found herself incapable of pushing him away, hands relaxing just resting against his chest as she found herself acting on her sinful thoughts for the first time.

So much for summer love, for saying us, ‘cause you weren’t mine to lose.

taglist: @lookiamtrying

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)

platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others

*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*

please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.

previous: part 2 : their beloved president

author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)

this one is actually pretty long :0

i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)

and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise

the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion

it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping

cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries

sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird

one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide

he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again

or so you thought

a n y w a y s

every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment

you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often

and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”

ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears

you guys were at it for a while

in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that

you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)

for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way

when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark

you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month

on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8

currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks

ranpo’s been rubbing off on you

the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down

tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once

but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment

like honestly

let a woman do her own thing

the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him

you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley

he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand

not that you cared about the detail in the moment

you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way

using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back

your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again

you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle

grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you

you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall

you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair

but what you really notice is her eyes

ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more

you’ve always liked the color magenta

the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up

as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention

he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold

you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you

she notices the condition you’re in

bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing

she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away

when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for

it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more

if those two trust you, she has no reason not to

she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency

your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand

“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”

“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”

after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary

she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in

you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at

before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable

after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags

she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you

you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you

“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”

“...”

*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*

“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”

you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them

and that’s only three of them

apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened

ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met

before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds

as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk

you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women

you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister

she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion

yup

that’s right

the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3

you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3

“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”

*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”

“?!”

after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!

you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!

you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping

yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit

the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by

lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap

“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”

she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male

“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”

“unbelievable right?”

“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”

“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”

“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”

like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3

but you love her anyway <3

eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out

“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”

you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member

the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out

but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways

besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will

speaking of which

you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden

“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”

you choked on your water

“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”

“exactly the point”

you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose

but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky

you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with

you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea

other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s

you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down

you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be

you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late

she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass

and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels

arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late

(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)

she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president

the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you

fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected

but here comes the hard part

or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows

“i met (y/n) today.”

“we could tell.”

in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth

“would you like to know how?”

“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”

“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”

this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”

“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”

ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks

“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”

“kunikida.”

“yes shachou”

“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”

“...yes shachou”

“and yosano”

“yes?”

“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”

just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed

<<previous // next >>

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theoreticslut · 4 years

Text

First Christmases & Baking Cookies

pairing: george weasley x reader

requested: yes! ( @rip-us ) // prompt 4 & 41 from holiday prompt list

word count:1.5k

warnings: fluff

A/N: Hi! I really hope you like this <3 Ik its kinda short and i’m sorry. I still think its cute though so hopefully you guys do too?! if you’d like me to take another shot at it I’d be more than happy to. on other topics, thank you so much for requesting stuff! I am still taking requests for anyone that wants to ask for something! I am also doing a 300 follower sleepover so check that out!! I hope you all are still liking my writing; i haven’t posted much original work this week & honestly its solely due to college. I hate this semester so so so much, but i’m just trying to get to the end. anyways, i do have some works that i’m going to try to proof tonight and then queue them for the next week or two. Just bear with me please? i love you guys and hope you keep reading my stuff Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @lauren2408 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @kaitlynw011 @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter

^ let me know if you’d like to be added / removed

George sighs, a smile falling on his lips as he walks into your shared apartment. You must have been baking all day while he was at the shop, but he can’t place what exactly. It’s honestly a mix of so many different scents, but to him it smells like home. It smells comfortable.

“Such a happy girl, huh sweetheart?” He hears your voice ring out from the living room, followed by your daughter’s giggles and happy coos.

He can’t help, but let his smile grow. You and your guys’ daughter are the light of his life. It doesn’t matter how terrible his day, the second he can see you two, or even just hear you, he knows that everything will be okay.

Taking off his hat and coat, he hangs them up on the hook beside the door before making his way to the living room where he finds you laying on your side as you tickle your daughter’s stomach while she’s laying on her back on the floor.

“How are my girls doing today?” George asks, smiling down at the two of you.

“Hey, Georgie.” You smile.

“Look who’s home, sweetheart. It’s daddy.”

You smile at your daughters happy giggling as you push yourself up to a sitting position. Carefully you stand up, picking up your daughter once you do.

“How was your day, love?” You ask George as you lean up to kiss him as you hold your daughter against your hip.

“Busy; We had a lot of people come to the store today. It wasn’t bad though.” He smiles, holding you in his one arm while he uses his other to get the attention of your daughter.

“It’s always better coming home to you and mummy though, innit, princess? Daddy loves coming home and seeing his girls.”

You smile as your daughter screeches happily at her father, holding her hands out to him trying to climb into his arms.

He chuckles and grabs her from your arms just as a timer goes off in the kitchen. George looks at you confused as you smile.

You absolutely loved baking during the holidays, mainly because you remember your mum baking a lot every Christmas. You swore she’d make nearly every kind of cookie under the sun. Your favourite, however, were simple frosted sugar cookies. You absolutely loved getting to decorate them....and then eating them.

While you were at hogwarts you didn’t get to bake much, if at all, and it was more than a little upsetting. Baking reminded you of home, so eventually - after getting homesick enough times - you snuck down to the kitchens and asked the house elves if it would be okay for you to bake some cookies. They didn’t mind at all. In fact, you’re pretty sure they loved having someone else there with them.

You and George had actually started dating awhile after he found you baking one weekend in third year. Sure you guys had sort of been friends beforehand, but you got really close after he had joined you that day and you gave him half of the batch of cookies.

After you had started dating, George would join you when you’d go down to the kitchens and you two always had a lot of fun. The first few times you really had to show him what to do, but he eventually figured it out. You two would spend hours making batch after batch of three or four different kinds of cookies.

It’s safe to say his mum was more than surprised when she caught you and him making cookies when you were invited to the burrow the first time over Christmas break in your fourth year. She honestly didn’t know that her son liked to bake, let alone knew how to.

“Are you baking, darling? It smelled delightful in here when I came through the door.” George asks, smiling.

“I am. Made a bunch of sweets for us and the family.” You smile, walking to the kitchen as your husband follows you, your daughter grabbing at his mouth as he playfully tries to eat her hands, drawing more and more giggles from her little body.

“I hope you made a basket just for Ron.” He jokes, tickling gemma’s sides.

You smile as you set a tin in front of him complete with Ron’s name. You had already thought about it and decided it was the best option.

“You didn’t.” George chuckles, breaking out into a grin at your thoughtfulness.

“I did, hun.” You smile, turning away to pull the cookies that were in the oven out.

“I figured since hermione said she only got one or two cookies from the box last year that I’d make them each a separate one this year.” You giggle.

You daughter screeches as her father stopped giving her attention and you chuckle.

“I know, Gemma. Mummy took daddy’s attention, didn’t I?” You giggle, tickling her belly as she smiles, giggling at you.

George chuckles, kissing his daughters head before grabbing your other hand and squeezing it.

You smile at him, squeezing his hand back as you place a quick kiss to his lips.

“Is there anything Gemma and I can help you with, darling?” he asks when you pull away, a small smile on each of your faces as you rest your forehead against his.

One of George’s favourite things to do with you was bake. He loved watching you so focused on your task yet at the same time being able to joke around and look so carefree. He honestly loved having you show him what he needed to do to make good cookies or a cake, and he loved even more when you would praise him when he did something right. It truly warmed his heart when you smiled at him after he had helped you mix the batter or add in ingredients.

Gemma coos when she heard her name and you chuckle, smiling at her as George talks to her.

“That’s right, Gemma. Daddy said your name. Do you wanna help mummy and daddy bake?”

She coos again, giggling and clapping lightly.

“Well, darling?” George asks, looking at you with a smile in his eyes.

“I do want to make a few more cookies.” You admit, giving him a small smile.

“Why don’t you grab the flour for me while I get Gemma in her seat.”

He nods smiling at you as Gemma happily goes to you, reaching for the few strands of hair that hang near your face from your bun.

“Be nice, gemma.” You warn as she tugs on your hair, George chuckling to himself at the pureness of the moment.

He knew you were more than excited to be able to teach Gemma how to bake when she got older. In all honesty, he was excited too. He loved the image of you and him with three little girls baking every Christmas; the girls making a mess, but neither you or him getting upset. Instead you two would help them make even more of a mess and then you’d spend the night cleaning together before sitting down to watch a movie as the kids fall asleep laying across the two of you.

You get Gemma in her high chair, kissing her head as you set some of her toys in the tray. As much as you’d love to get her in with baking, you knew she wouldn’t quite understand it yet. You thought it best if you just gave her a small bowl of flour and water later on for her to mix.

“Here you are, darling. One bag of flour.” George smiles, setting the bag down just hard enough to create a cloud of flour that covers his face and top of his shirt.

“Oh, George.” You frown, trying to hold back your chuckles and smile as you dust off his shirt.

He pouts, wiping at his face as you can’t help but let out a few giggles. he looks so offended even though he’s the one that caused this.

“I guess I should check to make sure the bag is closed tight, huh?” He chuckles, pulling you into a hug as he wipes his face on your shoulder.

“Georgie!” You giggle, not believing he just did that.

“Sharing is caring, darling.” He smirks as you look at the white powder covering your one shoulder.

“You’re lucky I love you.” You tease, working on getting the rest of the ingredients together.

~.~

“Careful, princess. Those cookies are warm.” George says as your daughter reaches for the plate of freshly baked and frosted sugar cookies.

You smile, watching as your husband helps your daughter get a nice warm, covered-in-frosting cookie. Already she’s making a mess out of it, crumbs and frosting sticking to her cheeks and getting all over the counter where she’s sitting.

“They turned out amazing, darling. Seriously, come try one.” George urges, waving you over from your spot in the living room. In the process of cleaning the kitchen after baking, you had tidied up the living room where you took a seat when you were done.

“Open your mouth, darling.”

You chuckle but do as George asks, smiling a bit as he feeds you some cookie.

“Ooh, they did turn out good this time, didn’t they?” You mumble through the cookie, savoring the taste.

George chuckles, kissing your forehead as you grab another cookie from the plate.

“They’re always good, darling. I think you make cookies better than Mum, but don’t tell her I said that.” He giggles, smiling at you as he wipes at his daughter’s face as she shoves more cookie into her mouth.

“Don’t worry, Georgie. I’d never tell.” You smile, placing a kiss on his lips.

This Christmas couldn’t have been anymore perfect, not when it’s your daughter’s first Christmas and you get to share it with George yet again. You could never tire from spending the holidays with your family.

#harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley fanfic #dad!george #dad!series #christmas fics #hp imagine #hp fluff #hp fanfic

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plaidbooks · 3 years

Text

Witness Protection - part 2

A/N: And here’s the conclusion (for now)! I didn’t do the reunion with the squad, but if anyone wants that, I could. Again, I split the story in two, so this takes place right after last part. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1

Tags: none

Words: 2716

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandblacktea @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner

There weren’t a whole lot of applicants—most people worked at the grocery store or in one of the other little shops in town. But Mike’s eyes lit up when one day, you came in, resumé in your hand.

“Hello! I hope you’re still looking for help? I’d like to apply,” you said, a bright smile on your face.

Mike grinned back, holding his hand out for your resumé. He scanned it quickly, noticing your name, the fact that you were close in age, and seeing that you’ve worked in customer service before.

“I am, yes. Tell me; do you know the difference between a mystery novel and a thriller?” he asked. He wasn’t going to throw you—or anyone—into that position like Gerry had to him. He’d vet you at least a little bit first.

You scrunched up your face as you thought about it, and Mike thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “Well, I don’t have a dictionary definition for you, but in my opinion, mystery novels are more of a…whodunit. It’s the puzzles, the twists and turns until the villain is revealed at the end. Thriller is more…the game between the protagonist and villain. It focuses more on the tension, rather than figuring out who the killer is.”

Mike blinked in surprise. “That’s actually…you’re dead on. And seeing as you’re the only one who gave me a straight answer, I think you’re perfect for the job.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, your hopes soaring.

Mike nodded. “It’ll be working every day, but I’ll let you choose if you want morning or afternoon shift. Either way, I can only pay $15 an hour. If business keeps steady, though, I may be able to give you a raise down the line.”

“What’re the hours?” you queried. The pay would be fine for your little house. Plus, the owner was waaay too cute.

Mike blushed. “Right, that would be useful information, wouldn’t it?” You laughed and he chuckled. “Morning shift is 8am until 1pm. Afternoons are noon until 5pm. I don’t mind working either shift, so it’s entirely up to you and what you can do.”

“Mornings work perfectly fine for me,” you replied, smiling. You were an early bird, anyways.

Mike gave you another bright grin. “Excellent. Come back at 8am tomorrow morning, and I’ll show you the jobs the morning shift does. And welcome aboard.”

***********************

Hiring you turned out to be the best choice Mike could’ve made. You caught on quickly; by the second day, Mike didn’t even need to be there training you anymore. You were great with customers, quick with a joke, and were incredibly well-read. Like him, you often filled the empty time with reading. Though, it was less time than Mike had when working for Gerry; you had to make the coffee and tend to the bakery goods, rearranging them when things sold. And with the higher volume of people, books were left on shelves randomly, making you put them in their correct place.

But the best contribution you made was your own pastries. You told Mike you enjoyed baking, and you brought him in a cupcake one day. It was probably the best thing Mike had ever tasted in his life.

“…would you be willing to sell your confections here? I can’t give you extra time off, not unless I hire someone else. But we can have a limited amount, and once they sell out for the day, they’re out—”

“I’d love to,” you replied, smiling. “Maybe not every day, but I usually make a batch of a dozen in my free time. I could always do two dozen, or a dozen of one thing, a dozen of something else.”

Mike nodded. “How about we start off slow, only selling things on Sunday? And if it turns out to be too much work for you, we can stop.”

“Sounds like a deal, boss man.”

************************

Your Sunday Special Treats became so popular, that it was obvious one day wasn’t going to cut it. You’d open the store at 8am with two dozen cookies, and they’d be gone within an hour. It got to the point where you’d show up at your normal 7:30am, and there would be a crowd by the doors, eagerly asking which treats you brought in that day. After discussing with Mike, you agreed to bake for both Sunday and Wednesday, for a mid-week treat.

Mike even offered to come by your place after he closed the shop to help you bake, if you wanted another pair of hands.

“Just so you know, though, I’ve never baked a day in my life,” he said, chuckling.

But he was so damn cute, and you were kind of hoping for more than a work relationship with him. Which is why you replied, “I’d appreciate all the help I can get. I can teach you.”

************************

It became a biweekly routine. Tuesday and Saturday nights, Mike would come to your place, around 6pm. You would be just starting baking, and he’d wash his hands before jumping in with you. At first, it was a struggle for him to figure out what to do with all the ingredients in front of you. You handwrote all your recipes—recipes passed down through generations of your family—and Mike followed them to the letter.

“The thing with baking, like cooking, you can add a little bit of this or that if it needs it, whether it’s in the recipe or not,” you told him one night.

He gave you a smirk. “But I don’t know when something needs a little this or that.”

“You’ll get it; you’re incredibly smart, Mike.”

He ducked his head, but you saw his cheeks turn a bright pink, a grin on his face.

Working so close together, not just baking, but in the bookstore as well, it was no shock that you fell head over heels for the sweet man. And it was no surprise when he fell just as hard for you. Both of you were afraid of the implications and the power play of Mike being your boss. But it never felt like a boss/employee relationship. It was always just…a partnership.

Eventually, you stopped eating dinner before he showed up, instead offering to make dinner for him. He stopped picking things up to eat on the way to your place, opting to have dinner with you, whether homemade or takeout, it didn’t matter.

One night, you were feeling playful, and you flicked flour into Mike’s face. He gave you a look of disbelief before breaking into a grin. He threw a pinch back into your face, and you let out a laugh so pure, it had Mike’s heart melting. He was leaning against the counter next to you, close enough that your clothes were touching. Your laughter came to an end, and you glanced into his face, smiling at the white powder on his nose and cheeks.

You couldn’t say who leaned in first, but soon enough, your lips were brushing against his before he pushed his more forcefully against yours. One of Mike’s hands went to cup the back of your head, and you grabbed his shirt, holding him to you.

Suddenly, the timer dinged loudly, and you gently pulled away from him, giving him a small smile before going to pull the brownies from the oven. You didn’t mind being interrupted, though; it was the first kiss of many that you would share with Mike Jones.

***********************

It was like you were both on the fast track in your relationship. You dated for only a few months before you found a house together. You both ran the shop, Mike raising your pay—while cutting his—until you were equal. And you never thought you could be more in love with someone in your life.

One day, Mike told you that he wanted the shop closed on the next Saturday. When you asked why, he said that he needed to have an important talk with you on Friday night, and that he wanted a free day afterwards; so that you didn’t have to be in bed early, and you had time to process things. He had seemed nervous, and it wasn’t the first time it felt like there was something on his mind while he was with you.

You were slightly worried, but also excited; was he going to propose? You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you had no other explanation to what this talk could be.

Mike came home after closing the shop on Friday evening, carrying takeout in a plastic bag. You greeted him with a kiss, and he gave you a smile. But you could see the nerves and concern in his eyes. After scooping food into a bowl, you both sat at the dining table in the kitchen.

“What I have to say isn’t…easy. And I must stress that it doesn’t leave this house, ever,” he started.

You nodded. “Whatever it is, I’m sure nothing will change, Mike.”

He sighed, closing his eyes. “My last name isn’t Jones. It’s Dodds.”

“What? All this is about a name change—”

“It’s more than that. I—I’m in witness protection.”

You sat there, stunned into silence as Mike gave you his entire life story. He gave you every little detail about himself, about growing up in New York City, about his overbearing father and his career in the Army, boxing, and the NYPD. He told you about his parent’s divorce, about his brother’s drug problems. He told you about his fiancée, about how the hit out on him was probably one of the best things that ever happened to him.

“I miss my family and squad, will always miss them. But until the Western Italian Mafia is dealt with, I can’t go home. And that syndicate is huge; I doubt I ever could go home.” He let out a small chuckle. “After meeting you, though, I don’t know if I want to go home, either.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you tell me all this?” you muttered, conscious of how loud you were talking. “Aren’t you supposed to keep it secret?”

“Technically, yes. Only the FBI and that doctor who pronounced me dead knows. But I…I couldn’t give you all of myself until I gave you, well, all of myself,” he explained, his expression pleading.

You felt goosebumps on your arms. “You really trust me that much?”

“Darling,” he said, shaking his head. He took your hands in his. “I trust you with my life. You’re it, the end game for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears sprung up in your eyes. “I don’t care if your name is Mike Jones, or Dodds, or anything! I love you, and only you. I want to grow old with you, too.”

The widest grin stretched across his face before he got up from his chair. He came around the table and kneeled in front of you, releasing your hands to cup your face. He used his thumbs to brush the tears from your face before pulling you to him in a kiss full of love and passion.

You leaned back slightly. “You’re safe here in California, right?”

“I should be, yes.”

You nodded. “Good, because I don’t want to lose you. And I’d fight a mafia for you.”

Mike huffed out a laugh, and you tugged him back in for another kiss.

*****************

Something that Mike learned a few months later was that his driver’s license and birth certificate were enough of an ID to get married. It was a small ceremony, just you, Mike, and your parents. You both agreed that Mike’s parents had both already passed, and he was an only child. Mike got to wear a tuxedo once more, and he dimly thought about what it would’ve been like to marry Alice back in Manhattan. But then he saw you in your simple dress, and those thoughts faded away. He had never been happier as he stood next to you, signing the marriage license, then bringing you in for a tender kiss. For legal reasons, you decided to keep your last name, but that didn’t stop him from calling you Mrs. Jones, or wifey.

*****************

It took only a month after your wedding for you to wind up pregnant. Both you and Mike were over the moon with excitement and joy. He built the nursery in your home while you made a list of baby names. You were set to have a little boy, and Mike’s only contribution was to veto William and Matthew.

“I don’t want to think about my old family—” he started, but you held up a hand.

“I understand. But what about as a middle name?”

He thought about it. “I guess that’s okay…. Have you chosen a first name yet?”

You smiled softly. “I’m thinking about my father’s name, Phillip. What do you think?”

“I like it. Which do you like more; Phillip William, or Phillip Matthew?” For the same legal reasons, Phillip would have your last name, rather than Mike’s fake one.

You gave him a look. “I chose the first name; this one is on you. Besides, I like them both.”

“You’re a lot of help,” Mike teased, chuckling.

******************

Eight months later, Phillip Matthew was born, happy and healthy. He was absolutely perfect, and neither you nor Mike could be prouder or more in love with him. Of course, you both had closed the bookstore for a week while you were in labor and afterwards, both of you doting on your newborn. And when Mike went back to work, it was for limited hours. The town was understanding, almost overtly so.

In fact, you never had to buy diapers—at least for the first few months. Your neighbors gifted you diapers, clothes, food, anything you could happen to need. The bookstore’s hours change to 8am until noon. Then it closed for an hour and reopened until 5pm. Mike worked mornings now; you were busy with Phillip and pumping milk for the afternoon. Then he’d come home, and you’d eat lunch together before you went to the bookstore, leaving Mike to watch and play with Phillip. It was a perfect arrangement, and you were both happy and in love.

Time seemed to fly by; soon enough, Phillip was crawling, then standing, then walking. He was a Daddy’s boy through and through, always following him around the house. His first word was “dada,” and Mike started taking Phillip with him on his evening jogs—he didn’t take morning jogs anymore, instead wanting to spend his mornings with you and Phillip. And when Phillip saw Mike working out, he would attempt to copy him, much to your amusement and worry.

One day, Mike was doing pushups in the living room, and Phillip couldn’t look away. He was still just under two-years-old, and he got down on his knees. You came into the room just in time to watch Phillip, on hands and knees, slam his face into the ground in an attempt at a pushup. You gasped and went to make sure he was alright, but Mike held up a hand, watching his son intently. Instead of crying, Phillip looked up at his father, waiting for praise.

“That was great, Phil. But try not to hit your head on the ground,” Mike said slowly, as if Phillip would understand what he was saying.

Mike got back in a pushup position, and Phillip followed. “Watch me, big guy,” he muttered, slowly going down to the ground. Phillip mimicked, eyes wide and locked on his dad’s grinning face. And when he pushed back up to his knees, Mike’s smile grew.

“Honey, did you see that?! Our little man did a pushup!” Mike announced, moving to sit and pulling Phillip into his lap, hugging him and murmuring encouragement.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I can’t believe you’re having him do pushups with you. You’re going to make him a bodybuilder by five!”

Mike guffawed, picturing it. “Nah—I can get him there by age three.”

You grinned, gazing at your happy family while Mike rolled onto his back, holding Phillip at arm’s length above him.

#mike dodds x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

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mc-lukanette · 4 years

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The rock star life wasn't what Luka thought it'd be, though he supposed he could attribute it to his father constantly talking it up and raising his standards so high that nothing could've competed with them. It wasn't that he hated going on tours or playing for crowds, but there was definitely something wrong that he couldn't put into words.

Juleka at least seemed sympathetic to his concerns once he'd gotten back from his recent tour, and he chuckled when she threw him some money to solve the problem, insisting that he eat his sorrows away for now and worry about details later. They'd both planned to visit their mother to celebrate his return, so it was only appropriate that he be in higher spirits for it.

Rose was happy to give him the address of what was - according to her - "the best bakery in Paris," with Juleka non-subtly implying that the money she'd given wasn't only for him. Thoroughly amused, he complied, leaving to follow the directions to said bakery with his phone.

He felt lucky to have not run into any fans on the way there, hoping that the same would go for the way back. The last thing he wanted was to have his boxes of baked goods accidentally knocked over and ruined.

As he saw the bakery in the distance, he was surprised when he noticed that it had been right next to his and Juleka's old school. He distinctly remembered there being a bakery, but the name Rose had given him hadn't rung any bells. He checked his phone out of curiosity and confirmed that the name had been changed since his sister had been in the school, replacing the "Tom & Sabine" with "Dupain-Cheng."

With that mystery solved, he headed for the front door and opened it up, smiling at the chime of the bell that announced his entrance. There weren't any other customers around, leaving the lone worker to look over and notice him: a woman, probably around Juleka's age, dressed a little nicer than he'd expect and seeming to be in the middle of making something.

At the sight of him, she gasped and covered her mouth. "Y-you're—Luka Couffaine?!"

He flinched, expecting a fangirl moment, but instead, the girl blushed in embarrassment and ran away from him. She went over to a nearby towel, cleaning her hands of flour, then put the towel back and checked over her clothes.

"Sorry," she whined, glancing up at her hair and fussing over it. "I wasn't expecting any customers for a while."

She took a breath, then strutted over to the counter with the fake demeanor of a businesswoman. Placing her hands delicately on the counter's surface, she flashed him a shy smile, blushing as she asked, "Um... how may I help you?"

Oh, she was cute. That was Luka's entire train of thought, and he hadn't been able to catch it before his mind had already put it forth for him to both acknowledge and agree with.

"Ah—" He cleared his throat, only now realizing that he'd never asked Juleka what she wanted to eat.

"Do you need a drink?" the woman questioned, looking at him worriedly.

"Oh, no. Thank you though," he replied with a dismissive wave. "That was—I need to ask my sister what she wants."

"No problem!" She giggled. "It's not like you're holding up the line."

Really cute.

He tossed her a smile, then fished out his phone and quickly texted Juleka, asking her what he should be ordering. He knew he could've called her, but he preferred having something written to hand off instead of having to be the middle man between the Juleka on the phone and the woman in front of him.

Setting his phone down on the counter, where he'd see it once Juleka texted him back, he then turned his gaze back up. "So, you know me?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm actually a huge fan, and I have all of your albums," she replied. "Buuuuut, I've dealt with a lot of... over-enthusiastic people in my life, so I know what it's like. I'd hate to make you uncomfortable." A beat of silence passed, and she playfully added, "Plus, I'm on the clock."

He chuckled, half-wondering if she was actually different outside of work. "And... is this place yours? I saw that the name changed."

"Sort of." She shrugged. "It's a family business. My papa is Tom Dupain, my maman is Sabine Cheng, and I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

He was glad she'd told him her name, thankful that he didn't have to non-subtly try to ask for her name now. Marinette.

She continued, "My parents went away on vacation, so I'm in charge." Puffing out her chest with pride, she assured, "I'm proving that I can handle everything myself."

Luka broke out into a huge grin, thoroughly charmed. "I'm sure you can. You definitely have the energy for it."

He tried to hide his amusement at seeing her try not to blush and turn shy from the compliment. She clearly wore her heart on her sleeve and couldn't hide anything if her life depended on it.

He'd never heard a song like hers before.

"S-so!" she deflected in a way she probably thought was skillful. "If you don't mind me asking, how was your tour?"

"Mm?" He was briefly caught off-guard, not expecting to have to talk about himself, though he supposed he should've, given that she was apparently a fan of his. "Oh, it was fine."

She tilted her head, suddenly concerned. "It was only fine?"

Oops. Luka hoped it didn't show on his face that he knew he'd slipped up. He didn't doubt - based on the small amount of time he'd known her - that Marinette would've listened to his worries, but he didn't want her to fret over his career when she was a fan of his.

Thinking quickly, he replied, "Well, I'm just glad to be back home. My family's here."

She nodded in understanding, not seeming to fully believe him - perceptive little thing - but accepting anyway. "That makes sense. I'd never be able to leave my parents for that long. I'd miss them too much!"

He chuckled. She seemed like the kind of person to overthink about people like that. "Yeah. My sister practically threw me onto the plane for my first tour." He grinned. "We still shared a room back then and I think she was desperate for privacy with her girlfriend."

Marinette covered her mouth, trying to hide a sweet giggle that he discreetly stored away in his memory.

"Still," she began, her gaze softening along with her voice. Luka detected a distinct change in atmosphere as she continued, "I don't think it's good if you miss them too much on tour. I think your fans would understand if you kept your them shorter." She smiled reassuringly. "I know I would, so please don't overdo it."

He blinked, staring at her with surprise. It was almost funny to him how he'd hoped not to run into any fans on the way there, yet here he was now, glad to have this particular fan to talk to.

She was sweet. She was cute. She seemed to genuinely care about him, and he was—

His phone chimed with a familiar tone, and Luka figured that it might've been for the best that he wasn't able to finish that thought, already hearing his dad's rambles about fans and attachment and keeping them at a stage's distance.

He picked up his phone, offering Marinette a quick "thank you" for her kind words before opening up his conversation with Juleka.

He blanked at the message she sent.

Hey, here's the list (by the way, say "hi" to the baker while you're there; not suggesting anything but she's cute and totally your type since you're both really lame):

Luka had too many questions all at once. Had his sister sent him there just to try and get him a date? Would she have sent him to the Dupain-Cheng bakery otherwise? Was Rose in on it too?

Did he really have a type?

Luka glanced briefly up at Marinette, who seemed wholly oblivious to his internal conflict. Trying not to just stand there stupidly, he copied the list Juleka sent and put it into a memo app on his phone, not wanting to risk Marinette seeing the rest of the message.

He took a quick look around the display cases and added something for himself to the list, then set his phone back on the counter and slid it over to Marinette. She leaned over, taking a look at the list, then gave him an acknowledging smile and went off to fill the order.

He waited to make sure that she had everything on the list memorized, then picked his phone back up and navigated to the camera app, now all too aware of what Juleka's smug reaction would be when he got back with the absolute dumbest look on his face.

"Luka?" Marinette called after an indistinguishable amount of time. He met her gaze and she added hurriedly, "I-I hope I wasn't interrupting anything, but here's your order."

She slid the boxes across the counter, having put them in a bag for easy carrying. He placed her payment on the counter and smiled at her, assuring, "You didn't interrupt anything. Thank you."

He didn't notice how warm his voice had sounded until after the words were already out, and by then it was already too late to change it. Slipping his hand through the bag's handles, he lifted it up and kept his phone held in his other hand.

"Oh!" Marinette gasped. "Let me get the door for you!"

"You don't have to—"

"It's okay! Your hands are full!"

He wouldn't define them as "full," but she was already rushing to make to the door before he did. He didn't miss how she opened it like a boyfriend would for their girlfriend, even adding a bow just for flair.

The bell chiming seemed to be emphasizing her voice rather than his exit.

"Please come again!" she recited like it was something she told everyone. She paused, then blushed and stood straight, any professionalism gone as she stammered, "I-I'm sorry, is that weird to say since I'm your fan? I didn't mean to, but—well, do come back, but only if you want! So—"

"I do," he cut in, much to her apparent surprise. He maintained eye contact on the way out, adding fondly, "See you later, Marinette?"

"A-ah... see you!"

He immediately had to look away to prevent her from seeing the way he grinned at the squeak in her voice. He heard the bakery door close behind him and held his phone back up to his face. Glad that there weren't many people in the immediate area, he spent probably five minutes trying to make faces at his camera.

Eventually, he had to give up hope that Juleka wouldn't tease him, because the smile wouldn't leave his face no matter how hard he tried.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to visit the bakery tomorrow though, of course.

#lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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sukiglycerin · 4 years

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it’s too cold outside for angels to fly || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x angel quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, angst, actually sfw (wow, luna's can do that?!)

* words: 8.1k (it’s a big baby!)

* warnings: mentions of trauma, reader is insecure but it's not their entire personality, therapy (not a lot of scenes with it), slight intoxication, mentions of throwing up (not much), like one suggestive joke, (light) cussing because bakugou

* original request: All I’m saying is reader with a angel quirk and the reader even has wings AND ANGST (but happy at the end 🥺) WITH BAKUGOU sounds so good 😔 but of course if you don’t want to do that it’s fine no pressure 💕

* a/n: hi 'nonnie! i hope you like you like this! honestly, it turned out longer than i expected (twice the length lol) but i'm proud of this baby. i'd like to note that enko, the nickname bakugou calls reader means 'halo' in japanese and can double down as a name, and an important reminder not to take any advice from the therapy in this fic. i am not a professional therapist, and please seek advice for situations specific to yours. the name of the fic is inspired by a lyric from ed sheeran's 'a-team,' but i promise it's not that dark. thanks so much to @toishi and the amazing feedback from @dylanxmin for beta-reading this! hope you enjoy!

* synopsis: you were your parents' perfect angel. you listened, and you followed. you didn't become a pro-hero, you stayed inside per your parents' request. it was okay if you couldn't fly; or, at least it was, before katsuki bakugou came along...

your grandmother loved pastries. that’s why you were here, trekking through the cold city in the tokyo winter. you shivered everytime your feathers came in contact with the frigid air, as if they, too, cowered under the looming shadows of tall buildings and bright lights.

so many people roamed the sidewalks, yet any bodily warmth was gone. you regretted not buying a cover for your wings - surely, it'd be an investment despite the price. wing covers were rarely manufactured for your size in japan, mainly aimed for small children just developing a quirk. the extra cloth needed for adult wing covers as well as shipping costs jacked up the price, making you hesitant to buy them. your wings were folded against the outside of your coat (putting them inside gave you cramps), nuzzling against your back subconsciously for heat. your wings were a pale cream colour, slightly more vibrantly mustard-coloured at the tips, and were the most visible part of your quirk.

according to the doctor, your quirk was "angel," but it felt nothing more than a pet name. there was a time in your life that you adorned a halo, but it no longer hovered above you when you looked up now. you weren't granted much power with your quirk; you were barely able to fly with your wings, but maybe you had a stronger moral compass than others? the wings, at this point in your life, were just accessories, as useless as the appendix. they could only cause you pain. you walked mindlessly toward the bakery, snow flurries dotting your hair. the bakery was a rundown, easy to miss place; you would've missed it if you hadn't gone there so many times. the faded yellow paint on the exterior was peeling, the poster on the window ripped and advertising for summer deals from years back. it had only a word-of-mouth reputation to rely on.

there was a worn sticker on the door, right at eye level, which said the name of the bakery in loopy letters: 'the flour road.'

you swung the door open with a jingle, greeted by the scent of baking bread and warmth. the bakery was your grandmother's favorite, specializing in rice cakes and dorayaki. she loved the pastries, for some reason - the baklava especially. she sent you on an errand to buy her some, giving you extra money to buy your personal favorite of dorayaki. to be exact, she pushed the money into your hands and forced you to buy a dorayaki for yourself. it was still warm when the cashier handed you your boxes, which you gingerly put in the bag.

you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the cold, before you opened the door and found yourself back in the cold winter.

a hand roughly pulled you into an alley, and you found yourself face to face with a masked figure.

"give me your money." the figure pointed to your purse, tugging it.

"i don't- i don't-" you reach to take off your purse, not questioning it. there was simply nothing you could do; besides, the voice was young enough. what if they were simply going through a rough time in life? that was no cause to-

"OI, DUMBASS, WHADDAYA THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" a spiky haired man appeared suddenly, wearing what appeared to be melons on his arms. you suddenly recognized his getup of black, orange, and green; he was a pro-hero. what was his name? zero gravity? zero gr...ass?

"LADY, MOVE ASIDE." he looked you over. "FLY, OR SOMETHING."

"i can't-" but he was already after the thief. it took him less than 30 seconds to capture the thief; he was fast by himself, but was faster when propelled by his explosions.

"well, why are you here still?" he turned to you, the figure from before slung over his shoulder.

"i can't fly," you blurted.

he blinked. "then walk. besides, you literally have-" the figure moaned over his shoulder. "agh, nevermind, gotta take this douche to the police. go home."

the next you see of the explosive melon hero is at a supermarket. his arms are melonless this time, though, and you're not actually sure if he's the melon hero. you only recognize him by his hair and red eyes, but truthfully, it was probably not him. he was muttering something about "the spice not being spicy enough," and "stupid hair-for-brains nagging about the heat."

you felt a finger poke your wings. "hey miss, you have ugly wings." a stubby boy, no more than 5 or 6, looked up at you. smirking, he pushed his own smaller wings out, hands on his hips. "mine are teal-turquoise! yours are boring white."

"uh, okay-"

"mind your damn business, brat. where are your parents?" you could now confirm that the spiky haired man was indeed the melonhero by his voice and vulgarity. melonhero had turned to the kid, standing by your side.

the kid hmphed and walked away, to where his mother scolded him for straying from her.

"you again?" melonhero turned to you. "you really need to learn how to stand up for yourself."

"eh? i was handling it fine!"

"yeah, sure. what’s up with your wings, anyway?" he grunted. "can’t fly?"

"n-no. they're, uh, too weak." it was something hard to admit out loud for you. all winged people could fly, but you couldn't even hover, your wings just flapping up wind.

"too weak?! eh? is that even possible??" he poked one of your feathers. "they seem sturdy enough to me."

you turn your wings away from him, frowning. "it's not that easy. i-i never really had time to learn..."

"isn't that what all kids do in their free time, though? experiment with their quirk?"

"my parents thought it was useless..." you shuffled your feet awkwardly, eyes downcast.

"WORTHLESS?!" you flinched at his sudden volume. "it's your quirk, though, 'wings'?"

you rubbed the back of your neck. "well, not really... it's...." angel. the word echoed in your mind, under the spotlight on a stage. it stared at you in an empty auditorium. 'angel.' the word had negative connotations for you. to others, it was a sweet, innocent nickname, but to you, it meant more.

it represented the weight of your parents' expectations, the burden of your classes' assumptions. it became a ball and chain, reminding you of who you were, who you were supposed to be, and who you could never become. you were your parents' angel, your parents' little light. nothing else.

"'angel,' eh?"

"huh?" did melonhero suddenly manifest a mind-reading quirk? you look at him, but his gaze is above your head.

"halo."

"halo," you repeated, looking dumbly at the flickering ring above you.

"well then, enko, it's nice to meet you," he smirked.

"i'm not enko- i'm y/n-"

"enko’s better. i'm ground zero, the number one pro-"

"melonhero," you blurted.

"HUH?! what's that, moron?!"

"nothing, sorry, continue-" you apologized. what had gotten into you?

ground zero cleared his throat. "-number one pro-hero! ...it's katsuki bakugou to you."

"bakugou, i'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you! oh, and um- where are my manners? -thank you for the other day."

"don't go giving your purse to random men on the street, dumbass."

"it wasn't like that!" you protested. "i mean, what if he was going through a rough time? or, his parents kicked him out-"

"doesn't justify anything. you're so naive," he grunted. "didn't your parents teach you self-defense or anything?"

"w-well, no, not really..." you mumbled. you'd always just been their angel, delicate and thoughtful. you never wanted to disappoint them; always staying inside to clean or cater to their needs. their perfect angel. in their opinion, villains could never touch you if you never went out.

you recalled a time in your youth when deciding on a high school.

"i wanna go to ua!" you'd said. you knew a teacher willing to recommend you, so you didn't need to worry about much.

"honey, no, you can't be a hero..." your father started. "you're an angel, you're our angel, okay?"

your mom nodded. "it'll be dangerous, angel, and we can't have you getting hurt day after day," she added.

you simply agreed, not wanting to upset your parents. they were always right. being a hero wasn't worth it, anyway, you told yourself. it was an unstable job. you'd entered a private high school near the coast of japan, instead of ua.

"eh?! well, how are you supposed to fend for yourself alone?!" bakugou exclaimed.

"i'm... supposed to stay at home..." you confessed quietly.

"then why are you here?!"

"...i moved away from my family."

"and you didn't learn to protect yourself? get yourself some pepper spray, idiot!" bakugou grabbed your wrist, abruptly leading you to an aisle with pepper spray in it. he briefly paused, then picked one.

"it's on me. i can't have more morons like you to save when you could save yourself."

"thank you," you said. in all of his vulgarity, bakugou was semi-decent. you wondered why he was so on edge constantly; perhaps it was a trait from being a high-demand hero.

"HEY!" bakugou yelled, making you jump in place. "whatcha smilin' at?!"

you wiped the small grin that subconsciously crept on your face. "n-nothing."

"tch, so quiet, enko." he looked above you. "halo’s gone? fuckin' weird-ass quirk."

"could you... um... nevermind." you originally wanted to ask him to tone down the swearing, but thought better of it. the vulgarity reminded you of your uncle, and you a gagged at the thought of the disgusting man who'd occasionally crash at your family's home completely wasted.

"what? just spit it out," bakugou said. "i don't get offended, unlike deku or something."

"can you... cut down on the swearing?" you ask, then add more quickly when you see his face. "i mean, it's okay if you wanna keep doing it. i can't stop you. y'know, freedom of speech and everything."

"okay," he said with surprising composure. he didn't question the request, instead looking at you intently.

your gaze was set down, trying not to think of your uncle, and the horrors you'd gone through as a child because of him.

"i- um- sorry," bakugou forced out of himself. "i didn't mean t-"

"don't worry," you smiled cheerily. a fake smile, but you tried to convince yourself it was real.

"d'you-" he coughed, "d'you wanna talk about it?" he seemed to be going through something in his mind. "there's a park nearby - god, what did hitomi say? - we can, uh, talk it out? you can vent."

"oh no, it's fine, you're busy, a pro-hero." you said nervously.

"ah- yeah," bakugou seemed to be flustered too. "my therapist though- uh, she's really damn good- i mean, really good-" he pulls out a wallet from his pocket and sifts through cards. "here." he handed you a business card, advertising 'HITOMI YABUKI' in bold.

you blinked at him and accepted the card reluctantly. pro-heroes were really kind at heart, huh? "is she a pro-hero therapist?" you asked.

"her? no, she does other stuff. normal stuff, trauma, quirk stuff, erm- whatever you need. she's an all-rounder."

"oh." you put the card in your pocket. "okay, thank you."

he grunted, accepting the thanks. "need to buy anything else?"

you glanced at your cart. "no, that's all. thanks for everything, bakugou-"

"i'll pay," he blurted. "for it all." he looks surprised at himself, perhaps even angry. "oh, no thank you-"

"i'll do it. i mean it. you didn't even buy much," he muttered.

"o-okay," you said. he snatched your cart from your hand, walking to a self-checkout.

"weren't you gonna buy anything?" you asked.

"eh?!" he grunted while scanning items.

that was the end of the conversation. once he finished, he swiped his card and handed you a bag.

"make sure you use the damn pepper spray."

it was only once you got home that you realized he slipped his number into one of the bags.

you see bakugou again at hitomi yabuki's therapy lobby. he sat casually, earbuds on as he stared at his phone. you debated sitting next to him and decided against it, not wanting to bother him. you didn’t contact his number yet; your hands sweated at the thought. as much as you were tempted, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of a pro-hero.

you found yourself staring at the man, who was unusually calm at the moment. you stared at his eyelashes, his eyes, down to his nose and lips, and his firm set jaw. your eyes fell to the phone he’s clutching, to the curve of his fingers and uniform nails.

"l/n y/n?" a tall woman called your name. bakugou looked up at you, and for a split second you could see what looked like a genuine smile before it was twisted into a smirk.

"yes!" you stood up and followed her, glancing back at bakugou before he disappeared from your sight. after a short elevator ride, you walked out onto the third floor.

she led you down a short, carpeted hallway to the last door. it was an opaque glass door that said "hitomi yabuki" on a plaque.

"so, what brings you here?" she finally said once the two of you were seated. "um- bakugou?" you said.

she smiled and jotted something down. "is that so?"

"yeah. we met a couple times by accident, and uh, he gave me your business card."

the rest of the session was just introductions - prices, meeting times, and therapy that can be provided. still, you weren’t really sure if you needed the therapy - maybe it’d be suited more for someone else struggling more than you. you didn’t need to use your quirk much; flying wasn’t much your style anyway. what would your parents think if they found out you were taking therapy? they’d surely be hurt, assuming that they didn’t provide a good childhood to you. you could practically hear your mom asking you why you’d waste money on therapy. you took a deep breath as you re-entered the lobby. bakugou was seating in the same place you last saw him, still on his phone. you bid goodbye to the receptionist, thinking out your decisions. your insurance could cover much of the costs for the therapy, but you still wondered if you should spend the money. these thoughts trailed you as you waited on the sidewalk for a cab, watching your breath billow in front of you.

"hey, enko."

your elbow shot out by instinct, hitting the invader of your thoughts.

"woah, idiot, it’s just me." luckily, bakugou had caught your stray elbow, chuckling to himself. "so the angel does know self-defense, eh?"

you stiffened at the pet name, though you knew bakugou meant well. you could remember each distinctive voice in your childhood. your parents beckoning: angel. your nickname: angel. how everyone saw you: angel. you could never escape it, not with your halo or wings. it was so distinctive, your defining quality. whether he noticed the shift in your posture, he didn’t say. "how was it? hitomi’s great, right?"

you hummed in response, rubbing your wings together for heat.

"are wings supposed to get cold? aren’t they just... feathers?"

your wings ruffled at the comment. you sniffed. "they’re sensitive."

"weird," bakugou muttered under his breath. for a split second, you considered smacking him with your wing, but you stopped yourself before you could execute the instinct.

your cab pulled up by the sidewalk. "that’s my ride." you smiled and waved to him as you entered the car. somewhere during the 15 minute car ride, you mustered up the courage to finally text bakugou.

who knew he was so dirty-minded, anyway? you leaned back in your car seat, exhaling. thankfully, you didn’t text the wrong number or prematurely end the conversation. so, now you were friends with a pro-hero, or so you assumed (friends texted each other, right?). the you from 10 years ago would be jumping for joy at the prospect of befriending a pro-hero, and here you were. you finally booked a therapy session for saturday at 3pm. you checked into the lobby ten minutes early, just as your parents had taught you, and took a seat in the lobby.

when it was finally your turn, you found yourself back in hitomi's office, the familar scent of vanilla and fresh linen wafting in the air.

"i hope you don't mind the scent," she said.

you shook your head. "it's fine." the fragrance was almost reassuring in a way, but you couldn’t pin point it. this time, you allowed yourself to drink in your surroundings. hitomi’s office was spacious, a large window overlooking tokyo’s snow-covered cityscape adding onto the effect. the walls followed a vertical gradient pattern of mint green and light blue decorated with paintings, hanging plants, and wooden shelves yet not in a cluttered way. in the center, against a wall, was a white couch. it had an oddly calming aura to it, as if you'd stepped into a dream outside reality.

"would you like an apple? or some water?" hitomi offered.

you weren’t really in the mood for either, but accepted the water. she gestured for you to sit on the couch.

the meeting consisted of her asking and you answering, the topic changing from family life, to your quirk, to your feelings.

"so, can you explain your quirk to me?" hitomi asked.

"well..." you gathered your thoughts. "obviously, i have wings like an angel. they don’t really do anything, though, just get sensitive to the weather. i used to have a halo when i was young, but it’s faded by now. dunno why. let’s see...." you paused. "i guess i have an inclination to help others? it’s hard for me to say no to things, honestly."

"is it because of your quirk?"

"probably," you admitted. "i’ve always been like this, i think."

"can you fly with your wings?"

"no." you sipped your water. "i guess i never learned. i’d try, but i don’t think they can support my body weight."

"how do you feel about your quirk?"

you shrugged, but then regretted it. you didn’t want to seem insensitive to all the quirkless people who could only wish for a quirk. "it’s- it’s cool, i guess. it makes me unique..." you thought back to your parents’ words, how they’d praised you for such an amazing quirk. when you used to feel bad about your quirk, they’d always remind you that there were children who’d wish to even have a quirk at all, and that you were special. your mother’s quirk allowed her to shine small rays of light through her fingertips, while your dad’s quirk gave him a wing attached to his left arm. it was pretty much useless for anything other than generating wind, considering he didn’t have a right wing to balance him out. their quirks together worked out just right to create you, their perfect angel. hitomi jotted something on her notepad.

the more you thought of it, the more you felt broken. you'd been doing therapy with hitomi for months now, and it had gotten harder and harder to emotionally process. your parents, your family, your quirk; you now saw the things for what they were.

your parents had used you. you were their doll, their perfect obedient angel, and it disgusted you. your hands felt tainted, your wings heavy weights on your back. you were revolted by yourself; looking in the mirror, you couldn't help but gag, seeing not the you of now, but the you of the past looking back at you. you couldn't sleep; tossing and turning and ruffling your wings in frustration. you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, how they restricted you from everything.

you wondered how it'd be different if your parents were better. you wondered if you'd gotten into ua and strengthened your quirk. you wondered how your reputation as a pushover would change. maybe you'd be a hero right now, helping others instead of being so irreparably broken. you could hear the catcalls from your classmates like bullets beating your wings. angel, the goody-two-shoes who couldn't say no.

not once did you cry. maybe you felt too disgusted by yourself. maybe bakugou was becoming the best friend you'd ever had.

he was there for you. making spicy curry or those awful, equally spicy instant korean noodles - he was there for you, in the same way milk is there for you when eating a particularly spicy dish. he listened to you, and you did the same for him. you laughed and joked together. somehow, in such a dark time, your friendship bloomed. it was strange, really. his reputation as a hero made him out to be aggressive and careless - and while he could brash in word choice at times, you knew he had a good heart. at one point, you’d even opened up to him about your past.

"then deku just completely f- messed up the mission! i could’ve blown up the damn guy, but he had to play mr. goody-two-shoes and just tie him up. and he got all the interview time. what’s even up with that?!"

he talked about his friends a lot. he'd deny his relationship with them being something other than strictly professional, but the way his crimson eyes would deepen gave it all away. he mainly spoke of deku and red riot (though their names would be referenced in cruder ways).

"what if- what if i was a hero?" you asked suddenly.

bakugou lifted an eyebrow. "you'd be a damn good hero if you could manage your quirk. like hawks."

"you think the public would like me?"

"duh. you're pretty, kind, AND fight villains? pretty badass. hell, if i approve of you, anyone would."

you smiled.

"why, though?" bakugou asked.

"curious. i, um, used to want to be a hero. growing up."

"your quirk has potential." bakugou leaned back on the couch. "why didn't ya become one?"

"parents." you flinched as the word passed your lips. thinking about your parents was painful, as if you had to rip off a month old bandaid before you could even get their faces into your mind. "they just... worried," you said. you didn't say anything else.

"betcha couldn't come up with a hero name as damn awesome as ground zero." "i could barely remember it," you teased.

"though, i must say, i do like enko as a hero name. it's like i'm joining an idol group."

"akb48 has nothing on you though," bakugou said.

you flushed. "i-i don't think you've looked at them properly, then."

"nah, i have, ochaco's obsessed with idol groups. don't doubt me, enko~" his voice was dangerously close, but he hadn't moved an inch from his original spot. "you're prettier than all the idols combined. tch, how low do you think my standards are?!"

"they're idol groups, bakugou, they practically rely on visuals!"

"eh? who cares? you've beaten them in looks and personality."

the thing about bakugou was that he was always completely honest with his thoughts. his integrity always amazed you, but then again, he was a pro-hero. you were quick to change the subject. "um- then-- what time is it? it must be getting late. i should get home-"

bakugou frowned. "it's late, idiot. eat before you go. i have some leftover tonkatsu and rice, and i can whip up the miso-"

"n-no, it's fine bakugou, you don't need to-"

"idiot, i can't have you starve to damn death on the ride home. eat."

even if you wanted to protest, you couldn't. bakugou's cooking was always to good to pass up, alarmingly spicy or not.

"the rice is still warm in the rice cooker," bakugou finally said, turning towards the kitchen. he knew you'd follow him, and you did.

bakugou busied himself making some instant miso soup and reheating the tonkatsu. you prepared yourself for the spicy of bakugou's tonkatsu; you'd had it once before, and it was quite painful. finally done, bakugou sat to the side of you eating tonkatsu as well, seasoning his with extra chili flakes. he was positively crazy; how did he handle such spice?

you cut yourself a strip and brought it to your lips. the tonkatsu was surprisingly tame for bakugou's cooking; it could've passed for normal restaurant tonkatsu.

"thish ish good," you said in between bites.

"i know," he gritted out, but he looked proud. "would be better with chili."

you shook your head, smiling. "never in a million years."

it was often you thought of this moment. it was so happy, so complete. it was just you and bakugou, simply being. right now, a genuine smile was something you couldn't curl your lips into, no matter how hard you tried. when you did, the taste of something salty crept into you mouth.

something salty...?

you touched your face. it was wet. your head spun, and then it dawned on you: you were crying. you were crying? your eyes focused, and pain throbbed in your head. lights shone too bright on you, heightening your headache, and a foul taste lingered in your mouth. you were suddenly aware of something solid in your hand: a drink.

something else you were aware of was how much you wanted to go home. you could barely remember what led you to a club as you fumbled in your purse for your phone, glancing at the time and unlocking the screen. all you needed to do was go home. you really wanted to go home, but where was home? home was gone. home...

a fresh wave of tears glossed your face, and you ignored the person next to you's advances. you didn't even know why you were crying. you struggled to read your contacts, dizzy, and called the first one you can make out with your hazed vision.

bakugou.

yes, all you wanted right now was bakugou. you wanted him and his warm arms, his endearing words. you wanted him so bad. you wanted him, and his warmth, and his happiness. you wanted his scent of comfort, the smile that made you feel fuzzy. you wanted his voice to shelter you precisely at that moment, you wanted to feel like it was him and you against the world.

"dumbass? hello? where are you? why is it so freaking loud? enko?"

you hadn't realized that a low quality projection of his voice was speaking on your phone.

"b-bakugou," you said, though it came out hoarsely. "bakugou."

"enko? where are you, and why are you calling at ass o'clock in the morning?"

"miss you," you almost said, but instead it came out as "dunno, you," a mix between "dunno" and "miss you."

"eh? where are you?"

you shrugged. "come here."

"send me your location, moron, and stay where you a-"

you hung up to send him your location.

you yawned and rubbed your forehead. everything was loud, everyone was together. and you were alone. it made you sad. you wanted to have somebody. a voice in the back of your head told you that you had bakugou. did you? right, he was coming. did you tell him to come?

you pressed the call button again.

"what is it?" bakugou asked roughly.

"lonelyyyy..." you moaned. "pick me up, baku...."

"idiot, i'm on my way. why the fuck are you so far from where you live?"

"hmm mmmhm," you strung together sounds. "'m sad."

"don't be." he sounded mad. he always sounded mad.

"why are you always mad at me?" you pouted.

"i'm not, dumbass! i'm pulling in."

"hmmm...!"

bakugou almost tore through the door with rage. "ENKO, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE."

you hopped toward him, wobbling a bit. the floor seemed to turn under you. enko! that was you! right?

"bakuuugoooou~" you cooed, flopping into his arms. "let's sleep."

he smelled nice. his scent enveloped you, a mix of vanilla and caramel that you’d grown so accustomed to.

he stiffened. "dumbass, i can smell the alcohol on you, we’re going the fuck home."

"don’ wanna," you whined. "lonely. wanna be with youuuuu..." you nuzzled more into his chest, finding comfort in his body warmth. you didn’t want to let go, ever. "tch, fine."

the car ride to bakugou’s place was uncomfortable. cars spun by you, lights making you woozy. you almost bashed your head on the dashboard. your seat was uncomfortable, the seatbelt itched you. despite all that, you stopped to stare at bakugou in your daze, all serious and set on the road. he had nice biceps, and his side profile was a sight for sore eyes (see also: your eyes).

"what, enko?" he grunted, glancing at you.

you said the first thing that came to your mind. "you know you smell nice?"

"huh?" he glanced at you, turning in to his driveway.

well, there was no going back now. "you smell like caramel... and vanilla... it’s nice..." you sighed happily, imagining the fragrance.

bakugou didn’t reply, instead parking and unlocking the doors. "get out, dumbass, it’s past your bedtime."

"but i don’t haaaaaave a bedtime," you slurred, stumbling out of the car. bakugou mumbled a complaint before hoisting you over his shoulder. it was probably not the best move, considering the blood rushing to your head made you feel sick. after entering his house, bakugou set you down on a sofa, sitting you upright.

"stay here."

you leaned back on the sofa, feeling suddenly empty. the buzz in your head had not quite left, but the weight of the world came crashing down again. therapy, your parents, your quirk. it struck you that you were probably bothering bakugou and disturbing his sleep; he was a pro-hero after all, lives depended on his health. but here you were, ever so selfish and probably taking a toll on his health.

"drink." you hadn't realized bakugou had put a glass of water in your hands. you simply nodded and gulped it down, hoping to sober yourself up.

you stared at the man glossy eyed, glass in your hand half empty. "bakugou."

"eh?"

"sorry."

"for what?"

"y'know... waking you up... bothering you... i know you're busy, and-"

"shut up, it doesn't matter. i'd rather you here than in the hands of some douche at the club."

"but still, how would i make it up-"

"by sleeping well. off to bed you go."

he started pushing you towards the hallway. "where will you sleep?"

"sofa."

"but bakugou-"

"go to bed."

"i feel sick-"

"hah?"

a rising sensation of bile emerged in your throat. the only words you could get out of your mouth was "bathroom," before you rushed in. it was not a pretty sight - you preferred to skim over the details when recalling it. the details you did not skim over, however, were that of bakugou's care; for being awoken at ungodly hours in the morning, he was surprisingly gentle with your vomiting state, soothing your stomach with warm hands and rubbing your back. after, he gave you a glass of water and forced you to take ibuprofen, though you swore you felt fine.

bakugou's bed was surprisingly comfortable. then again, bakugou did claim to have gone to bed at 8:30 sharp daily during his high school years, so it made sense he still valued sleep.

you were then reminded how you disrupted his.

and how you were now forcing him to sleep on the sofa.

you padded out of his room, wearing one of bakugou's old shirts that he'd graciously lended you, to the living room. he was laying on his back, feet sticking out of the sofa, eyes closed.

"what?" he asked, eyes still shut.

you knew he wouldn't let you feel guilty about intruding his sleep, so you settled upon saying the next best thing. it was partially true, anyway.

"'m lonely without you." your voice came out smaller than intended.

"huh?" he sat up, groggily looking at you.

"it's- kinda cold, and y'know, with your quirk..."

he grunted and obliged, walking toward his bedroom. you stood behind him, staring at his back; that was surprisingly easy.

bakugou slept with his arms around you, so you were nestled comfortably into his chest. this position felt strangely domestic; something lovers might do nightly. but you and bakugou weren't lovers, you were friends. image of you and bakugou involved romantically faded into your mind; coffee shop dates, cooking together, waking up next to each other. there was a sudden loss of breath in your chest, as if your heart had become weightless and was lifted by a thousand of butterflies taking flight. bakugou... romantically? it hadn't crossed your mind. still, you could see it so vividly in your mind; you, becoming his dumbass, his and his only. you could imagine how he'd look at you, full of love in his eyes, and how he'd gently kiss your forehead in the morning. was it so bad to want that? the more your thoughts indulged you, the more his body warmth drowsed you, his calm breathing adding to the effect. he was practically nyquil in human form. you found yourself nodding off in his arms, not before mumbling a quiet "what if i liked bakugou?" and clutching his shirt closer to you.

you were far too engrossed in the realm of sleep to hear bakugou's faint but hopeful reply of "i'd hope so, dumbass."

at your next therapy meeting, you told hitomi about bakugou. it was unplanned, spilling out of your mouth as soon as she asked why you looked so anxious. you couldn't like bakugou. you blamed your slightly intoxicated past self for planting such a thought in your brain, but you knew it just admitted a lingering feeling from in your heart. you spared her the details of the throwing up and the guilt that gnawed at you regarding how bakugou cared for you.

"it's... childish, right? like an old schoolgirl crush," you flushed, finishing your confession.

hitomi shook her head. "it's good to feel this way, actually. it's quite healthy for a twenty-something like you to harbour such feelings; it allows you to explore your feelings and relationships healthily."

even so, crushing was so damn frustrating. it's one thing to like a person; it's a completely different experience after admitting to yourself, yes, they're my crush. when you were younger, you very rarely developed crushes (as influenced by your parents) and even less were able to act on them. but now, as an adult, you had the freedom to act (or not, considering how your nerves constantly started to act up around bakugou). you decided to push the feelings down; you were just friends, and bakugou had no time to pursue a romantic relationship.

if having a crush was like an addiction, rehab was torture for you. gone were the days of seeing bakugou as platonic; you couldn't stop your heart from swelling whenever he recounted his day to you. bakugou had now become attractive, from his tight, bulging muscles to his hard chest. it did not help that you had to see him in his hero costume flaunting those features every other day on the news.

you convinced yourself bakugou harboured nothing but platonic sentiment for you, but he never failed to send your heart aflutter with discreet compliments he hid under rough comments. you started leaving early whenever the two of your hung out under the guise of other plans (that in reality didn't exist), and tried to always cut conversations short when you bumped into each other in public. he was ground zero, pro-hero, and you were just a civilian who could barely maintain their quirk.

you were just starting your quirk therapy, but you couldn't expect major changes a week in. bakugou had said your wings looked brighter, but you assumed he just said that to make you feel better. you could hover off the ground for less than a second now, but your wing strength lacked too much to be able to do anything requiring more strength. your halo was still absent, and you couldn't figure out how to make it reappear. there hadn't been much research done on the essence of halos; hitomi said not to worry about it regardless.

flap flap flap.

"oi, dumbass, you're gonna create a tornado in here."

flap flap flap.

"i'm practicing flying."

"well, you're going nowhere. d'you want me to call hawks or something?" flap flap flap.

you turned to bakugou, folding your wings neatly. he had the same expression as always, slightly disapproving and tired. your eyes meet his momentously; but they fall down immediately to his lips. lately, this kind of thing had been happening often. bakugou acted like he didn't notice you'd been different lately, but you could tell he wanted an explanation.

you acted on your impulse, your mouth opening and words tumbling from your mouth.

"bakugou- idon'twanttoruinourfriendshipbutijustwannasayitnow- ilikeyou."

"what?" why did you do that?

if this were a texting conversation, you'd leave him on read. if this was a tweet, you'd make your account private. if this was a video call, you'd end it.

alas, this was real life, so you resorted to the next closest thing: you ran. you ran faster than any shoujo girl and with more conviction than any shounen boy, and then you were lost. damn cities.

panting on the sidewalk, wings heaving up and down, you realized what you did. staring at the edge of the pavement, where the curb met the street, hands on your knees, it hit you.

you cussed and yelled at yourself mentally, and though a small part doubted bakugou even heard you, you didn’t allow yourself to have hope. it was game over. you let your feelings override rational thought, and you ruined what was arguably the best thing going on in your life.

you were interrupted by an itch in your feathers from being so cramped while folded. they ruffled against the cool air, distraught. you stretched them out, observing your surroundings and allowing yourself to cool down. the breeze was a satisfying sensation against your feathers, and you hovered just a moment when they flapped.

"mommy, wings!" a kid passes you on the sidewalk, pointing. his mother hushes him, but you smile at him.

the next few days were rough, particularly because you were avoiding bakugou. it was definitely not a good idea, but it was a temporary patch over the open part of your heart.

this was not one of your healthy coping mechanisms.

did he text you? did he call you? you didn’t know, because you turned off your notifications. you knew you were just making things more awkward, even more so if he hadn’t heard you at all. it gave you all the more excuse to ignore him longer.

now, with evenings to yourself, your mind wandered more. your thoughts drifted into a vast desert of tangled constellations in your mind, tightropes you’d tread that would lead you to a random destination. sometimes it led you to random memories - other times, it wasn’t as random, leading you to painful manifestations in your heart. these were the things you tried so hard to ignore, but rang so true.

you were reminded by the constellations in your mind that you were being terribly selfish to bakugou; not even considering his feelings. bakugou didn't deserve you. maybe stars twinkled in your mind, but the bluest ones burned you to the touch. you needed to get over bakugou.

that wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt, trying to get over bakugou. the stars in your mind dimmed, and perhaps, at one point, the constellations were reduced to thread; knotted, tangled, and hopeless.

maybe it was better when the string had been unkempt, because now it unraveled. you cried, and cried; in the shower, at your desk, doing chores. tears, hot and sharp like newly shapen diamonds, dripped down your face. your face was permanently marked by the wounds the diamonds left, and contrary to the stars, your eyes were red and hot. your thoughts unwound like string - there was a clear pathway now, but it was tainted by the shape of the knots there had once been.

everything hurt when you thought of bakugou. your swollen eyes became lifeless as memories of him overtook you. they controlled you. you missed therapy session after session, too scared to go to the place which bakugou had connected you to. sometimes, you’d sprawl across the ground, stare into your ceiling, and feel yourself vanish into something, a dark void of nothingness. he had cared so much for you - too much. why had he? why couldn’t he have left you, that one day you were almost robbed? why couldn’t you just have stayed the way you were? why did you have to find the truth in things? ignorance was a bliss you woke yourself from. ignorance, the dream which from you woke to find a nightmare, reality. why did he have to be him, the stupid pro-hero with a heart that bled kindness into yours? why couldn’t he have stayed a two-dimensional public figure, the careless and angry ground zero? why did he have to be in your goddamn life and ruin it, entangle everything into one big mess? you hated him. you hated him and his stupid endearing insults, him and his rugged smirk that pained your heart so, him and his eyes that held sparks and diamonds and you. deep inside, you knew it wasn’t true; hate was just a name for an indefinably strong feeling you had for him. you knew you didn’t hate him, you knew you couldn’t hate him. you told yourself you did to distance yourself from him. the distance between you and he only grew. your memories were tarnished with pain, his image blurry and wrinkled in your eyes. katsuki bakugou was just someone, no one.

this was the feeling of agony, this was the sight of pure hell, and this was the sound of you burning your heart. distance between you and the man named katsuki bakugou grew, as did your descent into pure madness.

until the distance between you and he was less than a metre.

you had not bothered to tame your hair; it was a bit overgrown and sprouted a couple split ends. you were dressed in a stained shirt, your face not even mentionable, and your heart was beating in your ears. you felt yourself dragged quite forcefully down to sanity, as if opening the door suddenly put gravity into effect.

because here he was, katsuki bakugou in all of his perfect glory, standing on your doorstep.

the little shit refrained from making a comment about your current state, but you could see the comment appearing in his eyes and vanishing as soon as it came. you watched his eyes go from the state of your face down to your unkempt attire. he, on the other hand, looked unaffected. he was sporting a t-shirt and jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. the only indicator, which was minuscule at best, that he had changed at all was the red at the corners of his eyes and slight eyebags. he looked shocked at the sight of you.

"y/n..." you almost fainted on the spot.

you weren’t not jumping for joy in ecstasy at the sight of him, and you didn’t feel like a shoujo protagonist at the moment. it was something different.

"again," but your voice was too hoarse to be heard. your mouth opened and closed, you coughed, and repeated yourself. "s-say it again."

"huh?!" it was nice to know someone hadn’t changed after all that time.

"my- my name..."

"eh? enko."

you sighed, your face indifferent. you weren’t exactly disappointed by his reply; it brought memories upon memories of happier times with him.

"well, what do you want?" you asked, rubbing the side of your face.

"what- what the fuck is going on?" he gestured to you. "i should be asking about you. what the f- what happened to you?!"

"i-"

"enko, i don’t get any of this shit. this relationship crap. what do you want me to do?! first, you act weird as shit- because of what?! i don’t fuckin’ know. you avoid me - don’t think i didn’t notice - and then suddenly you spew shit and leave?! i don’t see you for a goddamn week, you don’t answer your damn calls or texts, and suddenly i’m the damn villain and i’m supposed to give you time or shit to figure things out, and when i can finally fucking see you, you look like actual crap?! hell, i should be the one with deteriorating mental health with all of the bull you put me through! if you want something, if you don’t wanna be friends or shit, just goddamn say it to my face! i’m not good with people, enko, goddamnit! tell me what’s wrong!"

you stood in shock. relationship..? you shook his words away. you hadn’t realized how much this took a toll on bakugou, too. he looked away - something glinted in his eyes, but you couldn’t tell exactly what.

"god-fucking-damnit," he grumbled. "...are ya gonna let me in, or what?! it’s cold out here!"

you didn’t think about how bakugou’s quirk involved producing heat, and let him in unreluctantly, stepping aside. "sorry," you mumbled.

he took off his shoes, and you motioned for him to sit down on your couch.

"explain it to me," he demanded. "what in the goddamn world has happened tot you? did someone do this to you?!"

you refrained from saying technically, it was you, and settled on: "no." it was apparent he hadn’t heard you that day. "just- it’s nothing. i was being stupid, a-and i’m okay now." it was a lie.

"do you take me as an idiot?" he asked. gears shifted in his eyes. "sit down," he said, suddenly calm.

you did so, sitting as farthest as you could from him.

"closer," he gritted out. you scooted a centimetre. "closer." another centimeter. "clo-ser." he pulled you so you were sitting angled toward him, knee brushing his.

"baku...gou?" so many questions flashed in your mind.

"confirm something for me," he ordered. "what exactly did you say to me before running away?"

"i- nothing. it was nothing, i told you, bakugou."

"tell. me. i don’t care if you quoted freud, told me a failed joke, or what. tell me."

your mind was devoid of possible jokes you could use to lie.

you opened your mouth, forcing the words out with all your might. "i don’t remember the specifics," you rambled. "i don’t think i was in the right state of mind-"

"spit it out."

"i think it went something like ‘i like you’ or something?" your pitch rose with every syllable.

"tch," a smile was on his face. "thought so." his hand was suddenly on your cheek, and his lips were on yours. he tasted like caramel. your eyes widened, and you pulled away, sputtering.

"what? what d’you mean, ‘thought so’?!"

"idiot, i like you too. also, when did you last brush your teeth?"

"i- that doesn’t matter. bakugou... i don’t think that this relationship is good for us. as friends or whatnot."

"huh? why not?"

"look at me. look at you. i can barely handle my quirk, and you’re a pro-hero who uses his quirk to help people. i can’t really do anything."

he mumbled something under his breath. "enko, do you think i care about any of that? i don’t care if you have the strongest quirk in the world or none at all. you’re strong - and i don’t say this ‘cause i like you - you’re kind, you see the best in people." he paused. "people don’t give me the time of day ‘cause they think i’m too irrational. brash. careless. but you? you see past that, you don’t care. you work hard no matter what people say. people-" his voice caught in his throat, "people say shit to you, and you don’t care. you keep going."

he saw you... like that? your face heated up.

"don’t be gettin’ all shy on me," he grunted. "tch. come here." he pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you and narrowly avoiding your wings. you flushed, holding him tight and inhaling his caramel scent. you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing to hold him like this forever.

“hey, enko,” he whispered into your ear. you looked at him, who was currently looking up and pointing. “halo.”

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