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#and you had everything to live for and i had none
dreaming-medium · 2 days
Text
No Contact
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
—————————————————————
No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse. 
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. 
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know. 
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 
He never got to see you. 
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair. 
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now. 
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 
Mice would get to it before you did. 
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 
To him too. 
It’s the library where he first met you. 
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 
Absolutely not. 
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 
Your eyes met. He was a goner. 
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today? 
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 
Empty. 
You-less. 
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 
What a moment. 
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 
His throat immediately tightens. 
There you are. You. Beautiful you. 
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 
You turn around with a curious look. 
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it. 
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Y/N, please. 
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 
“Thank you,” he whispers back. 
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 
From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 
Y/N, please. 
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 
He knows everything. 
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly. 
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day. 
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 
And the worst part? You said yes. 
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never. 
“It’s with me,” he blurts. 
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 
She’s right. What if you don’t? 
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 
Yes, you have. 
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu. 
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 
He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite. 
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops. 
You stop. 
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something. 
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 
Your phone rings. 
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have. 
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have. 
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 
The brightest smile stretches over your face. 
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you. 
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 
He wants to kiss you so bad. 
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea? 
Is kissing you the best option? 
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 
But he is. 
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 
He immediately stops. 
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please. 
Slowly, your hand falls from his. 
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him. 
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie. 
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 
Him. You’re talking about him. 
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 
Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 
A sob tears from his throat. 
You grip his hand tighter. 
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks. 
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest.The emotions that were being kept at bay came out like a raging storm. 
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 
You’re still crying. Both of you are. 
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 
All he can do is cry. 
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
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billfarrah · 3 days
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One of my favourite things about Young Royals and its characters is how much it romanticizes being utterly ordinary.
Stories often focus on characters who are exceptionally good at something or who are more ambitious than the average person. Even in the teen shows I’ve watched, these young characters always seemed to have their dream career and dream university figured out at a young age and I could never relate to that because I had none of those things figured out as a teen. It always felt like pushing this narrative that teenagers need to have their entire lives figured out before their brains are even fully developed.
None of the characters in YR seem particularly ambitious and in fact, the main character’s journey is a story of anti-ambition. When he is introduced to Simon, it is precisely Simon’s ordinariness that draws Wille to him. Sure, Simon is a very talented singer, but it’s never indicated within the series that he has dreams of being a pop star. It’s just something he likes to do. Simon is motivated by very ordinary things - he wants to do well in school so he can have better opportunities for himself, he wants to take care of his family, he wants to hang out with his friends and play video games. He’s a dedicated student but not necessarily valedictorian. It’s not his ambition that Wille is drawn to but his integrity and kindness and warmth.
Wille had a chance to be extraordinary - to be Sweden’s first gay king - but being extraordinary has never been Wille’s ambition. Wille’s ultimate goal and dream within the series’ narrative is to be free to make his own decisions and live his life as he pleases. He just wants to kiss his boyfriend and get drunk at parties and live his life one day at a time instead of spending every moment of his life preparing for an inevitable future he doesn’t want. In the end Wille is extraordinary not for his ambition, but for his bravery to reject the expectations thrust upon him and throw himself into the unknown and see where it takes him. Wille had a whole future in front of him as crown prince and future king - he’d never have to work a day in his life and would have people advising his every move - and he rejects that. This lack of ambition is not portrayed as a moral failure, but a necessary step in Wille’s journey to personal self-discovery and fulfillment of his own desires. His desire right now is simple - be free with Simon, but that doesn’t mean his dreams end here forever. He deserves peace and tranquility after all the trauma he’s been through without having to worry about where or who he’s gonna be in a few years. He deserves time to just exist.
None of the characters know where they’re going when they drive away at the end. We as the audience don’t know what careers if any these characters will find themselves in, but that’s also not important to this story. The series is saying you don’t have to have everything figured out when you’re 17 and you don’t have to do something just because your parents think they know what’s best for you and even if you don’t know exactly what you want to do, that doesn’t mean you don’t have the agency to know what you don’t want.
It’s not a moral failing to want the simple things in life or to be ordinary, and I love that Young Royals celebrates that. It shows the beauty in simple moments that feel revolutionary to a person - touching the person you love, forgiving someone and making amends after a hardship, whooping with your friends in a car as you drive into the summer and celebrates them. Ultimately these are the moments that make life worth living.
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purple-babygirl · 2 days
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don't call me daddy V
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader Word count: 4,660 Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails. Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜
~
When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger seat.
Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.
His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.
He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.
Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.
Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.
In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.
It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.
He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.
But something was missing still.
Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.
What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.
She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.
It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.
And to do that, he had to know more.
“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.
“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.
“Can I ask why?”
She sighed, “why?”
“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”
She laughed, “really?”
“Really.”
Oh, this wasn’t a joke?
“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.
“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.
He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.
“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.
“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”
“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.
“I’m serious, doll.”
“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.
“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”
“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.
He’s made her feel the same way.
He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.
“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”
Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”
“I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head, stopping him.
“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.
Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.
“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.
“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.
“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.
“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.
“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.
“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.
She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”
“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”
“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”
“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”
“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”
“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”
The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.
“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”
“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”
“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.
~ After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.
She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.
His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.
It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.
“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”
He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.
“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.
~
Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.
She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.
“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.
“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.
She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.
But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.
“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.
Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.
Moments like these definitely required a daddy.
“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.
Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”
“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.
Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”
She tilted her head expectantly.
What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-
“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”
Oh, that was something she could do.
“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.
“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.
“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.
“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.
Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.
~
Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.
Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.
Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.
Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.
Tonight was one of those nights.
It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.
But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.
He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.
He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.
“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.
“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.
“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.
“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.
“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”
“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.
The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.
He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.
“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.
“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.
When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.
“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.
“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.
“But-”
“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.
Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.
“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.
Of course she did!
That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.
This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.
“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”
“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”
“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”
“What would you like then?”
“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”
Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.
“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.
She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”
“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”
Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.
~
Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.
She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.
He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.
She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.
There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.
With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.
One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.
It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.
When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.
He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.
He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.
 “Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.
“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.
Bucky froze.
It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.
“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.
“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.
“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.
“Can I choose Adam, too?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.
She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.
“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.
One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.
~
Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.
But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.
When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.
She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”
Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.
“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.
“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.
“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.
“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”
“Really?” She sniffed.
“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.
“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.
“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.
“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.
“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.
“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.
“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.
He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.
“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.
“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.
“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.
“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.
“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.
And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him. He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.
~
“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.
She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.
“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.
Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he promised.
The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.
Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her gardens were in their soil.
She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.
“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.
“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.
“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.
“D-daddy?”
Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.
“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”
Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.
She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.
~
“What is daddy thinking?” she asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.
“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.
Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”
“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.
“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.
“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.
“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.
“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.
She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”
Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.
“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.
“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”
“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.
“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.
She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.
“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.
“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.
“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.
“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.
“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”
“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.
“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”
“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.
Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?
“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”
“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything more.” Bucky promised.
She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”
“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.
“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.
“Do you like the moon, doll?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.
“You know how our sky only has one moon?”
She nodded.
“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”
“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.
“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.
And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.
He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.
~
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yoongiofmine · 1 day
Text
LY: Love You Better | JJK | Five
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Pair: Idol!Jungkook x Playmate!reader
Summary: Jungkook never wanted a playmate of his own before. While living a busy life, touring the world, being one of the top kpop idols alongside his Bangtan hyungs, he had everything he could possibly need. But now that responsibilities call and his brothers are starting to focus on their solo careers before eventually enlisting one by one, Jungkook feels lonely. Maybe hiring a companion to take care of his needs and fill in the empty space in his life isn’t such a bad idea anymore…
Chapter warnings: ………yes, smut again, don’t come for me. Dom Kook, competitive Kook. 
WC: 6.3K
[Membership]
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“Come on, Kook, do this with us!” Jimin pleaded, a drink away from draping himself over the maknae’s lap. 
“I’m not in the mood, hyung, I’m sorry.” the youngest shook his head, more than happy with just sitting where he was, on one of the red couches of the bar Hoseok decided to close down to have his birthday celebration at. 
“But we have a routine!” Taehyung insisted, shoulders down and slumped. 
“Yes, a routine that we don’t need. That we haven’t needed in years.” Jungkook pointed out, bringing the beer bottle to his lips for a sip. 
“Just because we don’t need it, doesn’t mean it’s not fun.” the second to youngest continued. 
Jungkook was never the most outgoing of his members. The idol much preferred small get togethers or dinners at one of the other guys’ homes. But Hoseok hyung, being as friendly as he was, and with his impending military leave happening soon, chose to hire a whole bar in the middle of Itaewon for his close friends and some family members to celebrate with him. 
It was closed enough that he knew none of the guests would post anything about tonight, everyone was enjoying good company and drinks, not worried about their phones. It was nice, really, and Jungkook knew he’d start relaxing after a few beers. 
But for now things still felt a little weird. 
Their group wasn’t complete, Jin hyung didn’t have enough military days to request a leave yet. Joon hyung was already lost somewhere with Soyoon, a singer Hoseok had introduced to him last june, at the Jack in The Box listening party, and Jungkook was pretty sure they were secretly hooking up. The fact that this would be the last birthday he’d celebrate with Hobi hyung was also sitting heavy in his chest. 
“Alright, you two, leave him alone.” speak of the devil, the birthday man was doing his rounds to be a good host, shooing Jimin and Taehyung away with a wave and a laugh. 
“But–” Jimin tried, being shushed by Hoseok. 
“Let him get a couple drinks in, I’m sure he’ll join you in your mischief in a minute.” Hoseok sat next to Jungkook on the yellow, stained, leather couch, hand resting on the younger man’s thigh. 
Jimin and Taehyung were huffing for all of two seconds before linking arms and laughing about anything they planned on doing next. If Jin hyung was there, they’d most likely rope him into their doings.
“How are you feeling tonight?” Hoseok asked him with a squeeze to his knee. 
“I’m great, hyung, this place is cool.” was his answer, which sounded a little airy as it was delivered on the mouth of the beer bottle. 
“Yeah, you look like you’re having the time of your life.” sarcasm laced the hyung’s words, but the laugh that accompanied it softened the blow. “I saved your ass right now, but you won’t be alone here all night.” 
“Where’s Yuna noona? I like you better when she’s around.” Jungkook poked, pout covering the end of the bottle to chug a sip. 
“Yah, I’m just looking out for you while I can!” the older man was laughing again, pointing with his head to the side where his playmate was. “She’s with Yoongi hyung over at the bar.”
Jungkook’s eyes scanned the place, taking in the atmosphere. He had never been to this particular bar before, as it was on the smaller side, so it would most likely be packed with tourists and locals if the hyung hadn’t closed it down for his party tonight. 
The first floor was for the bar, a makeshift dance floor and sitting areas, where the second half-floor apparently had some games like old school video game machines, pool tables and coin karaoke booths. 
The bar itself was near the door and, just like Hoseok said, Yoongi and Yuna were there. The hyung was sitting on a tall bench, legs parted so the woman could fit in between. Yuna was laughing at something Yoongi said, hand on his chest as she pushed him playfully; his pink gums were out as he smiled like a fool in love. 
It was a scene that brought a twist to Jungkook’s stomach, turning back to Hoseok, who was also watching the scene unfold. 
“Shouldn’t she be with you? It’s your birthday.” the maknae asked, slightly worried. 
“She’ll come home with me tonight, that’s what matters.” Hoseok shrugged, bringing his glass to his lips, eyes only leaving his girl and his best friend when he continued: “It’s important for them to get used to each other, so there’s no awkwardness when she starts to work for him.”
“Again, you’re okay with that?” 
“Have to be. She needs the money, and I’d rather she works for Yoongi than someone random.” the hyung sounded worried, no doubt having talked about his enlistment plans with Yuna. After working together for so many years, his absence was something she needed to be aware of. “It’s easy for idols to feel entitled when it comes to playmates, you know? Nolichingu is a good agency, but there are horror stories about places that let their workers get mistreated and abused if it meant bringing more money in.”
“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes were wide, as he never gave the playmate thing much thought before wanting to hire his own, lines forming between his brows as he wondered about your experiences. 
If you’ve been in that career for half a decade, you must’ve had as many bad experiences as good ones. 
“You’re a better man than I am, hyung.” the younger man admitted, eyes finding Yuna and Yoongi again. As the woman typed something on her phone, the hyung stared at her with stars in his eyes. Jungkook wondered if Hoseok could see it too. “If that was Yn–”
“You’re a jealous boy, Jungkookie. Always have been.” Hoseok shrugged, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m only telling you this because, like I said, I’m trying to look out for you. Yuna, Yn, any other playmate… They aren’t ours. They work with us, yeah, but don’t let yourself get carried away. They don’t belong to us.”
“I know that, hyung.” Jungkook grumbled, gaze dropping to focus on the green bottle between his fingers, tracing the bumpy patterns on the glass. 
“Good, then.” Hobi hyung didn’t sound all that convinced, but steered the conversation nonetheless. “I take it you’re getting along?”
“Y-you could say that.”
His stuttering only came out when Jungkook grew nervous, cursing himself for his own slip. The man sat beside him gasped and turned around to properly face him. 
“Ohhh, Jungkookieeee.” Hoseok mused, high pitched laugh and eyes wide. “You mean you two…? I wasn’t sure you’d ask for that part of the service, I’ll be honest.”
“I didn’t technically ask for it. It, uh, just happened.” Jungkook shrugged, downplaying it. His neck felt hot, and the smile on his lips was telling. 
If this was Taehyung or Jimin, they would have demanded the sordid details, but Hoseok was kind enough to only ask: “Was it nice?”
“We didn’t have sex yet.” he explained, voice low. “But we kissed. And stuff.”
“And stuff?”
He nodded. “It was nice, yeah, very nice.”
“So that’s why you weren’t interested in wingman-ing with Jimin and Tae?” 
Before he could agree with the hyung’s conclusion, heeled steps approached the two of them, making both men turn to see Yuna and– 
“Heeeey, you made it!” Hoseok was getting up as he saw you standing with his girl, a pretty smile on your glossed lips as you opened your arms to hug him. 
“Happy birthday, Hoseokie-oppa!” 
Jungkook had last seen you this morning, when he dropped you off at the building you lived at, no hopes of seeing you again before Monday morning. He had asked you if you were coming tonight, knowing being friends with Yuna and Hoseok would mean you were invited, but you told him there were things you and your roommate needed to do at your apartment, so you’d be unable to make it. 
You looked really good tonight, with a black mini-skirt with the tiniest red heart prints and a long sleeved, body fitting, black cashmere shirt with buttons at the front; the buttons of your top near your chest were fighting for dear life, sitting snug against your breasts. Layers of necklaces sat on your collarbones and that’s where he pretended to look when he got up to greet you. 
“Hi, Kook!” you hugged him next, your chunky boots making you a couple inches taller than he was used to. 
“Didn’t think you were coming.” he said quietly, breathing in your perfume; soft and floral. 
“Her roommate is an asshole sometimes.” Yuna explained before you could. 
You gave the group a half hearted nod of agreement as your arms unwrapped from Jungkook’s middle, moving to stand beside him. 
“You want a drink?” Jungkook was the one offering, but before he could keep you, Yuna held your hand and pulled you away. 
“You already have her five days of the week, aren’t you tired?” Yuna teased, but you whined a complaint at the underlined insult. “We need some gossip time, I’ll bring her to you in a second.” 
Jungkook couldn’t argue, nor defend himself as you were taken away towards the bar so you and your friend could talk. Him and Hoseok were still standing when the hyung patted him on the back. 
“You, my friend, got it bad.” 
“Excuse me, how can you say that after watching a five second interaction?” Jungkook pointed out with a frown, but he already felt more awake just from the simple fact that you were here. 
“You were sniffing her hair.” the man deadpanned and Jungkook felt his face flush. 
“So?” he chided, one hand inside his pockets to feign nonchalance. “I sniff your hair all the time.” 
“You have known me for twelve years.” 
“She smells good!” was his defense, a very poor one at that, but it’s what he had. 
Jungkook was particular about what kind of smells he liked, he’d always been that way. His mother used to joke that it was because of his big nose that he could smell things a lot more strongly than others. He had no idea if it was accurate, but strong scents made his nostrils burn. 
He never had that problem with you. Your body wash was mellow and the perfumes you liked to wear were always soft and floral, a little on the sweeter side, which seemed to match you. 
Besides, Jungkook wasn’t ready to admit to his hyung just how bad he had it for you. 
Now that Yuna was busy with you, Yoongi joined the two-person group of Hoseok and Jungkook near the yellow couch. Jungkook took his seat again, leaving his empty bottle at the small table in front of him, Hoseok on the other cushion and Yoongi on the armchair right beside it. Not too long after, Namjoon and Soyoon turned them into a five piece group, all of them ignoring how the lips of the newcomers were swollen and slightly red. 
Yoongi spoke of his tour and how he hoped all tickets sold out, going over the venues he'd perform at, wishing the rest of the members would come see him. Jimin definitely would. Hoseok wasn’t sure if he could. 
Soyoon mentioned her collab with Namjoon, who was staring at her mouth the whole time. The woman was sweet. Nerdy too, kinda bossy in a fun way; it was surprising that the hyung would go for someone like that. 
Conversation floated around him, but Jungkook’s eyes were trailed to the bar, where you and Yuna were talking animatedly about something he couldn’t hear. The maknae thought he saw slight annoyance on your features at some point, or something akin to disappointment. Yuna noticed it too, giving you a hug and ordering more shots of whatever you were having.
When both of you had full glasses of colorful drinks, you made your way to the group again, making Jungkook fix his posture a bit more. 
“Relax, kid.” Yoongi was the one to notice, muttering behind his whiskey glass. “Play it cool.” 
Jungkook nodded, back resting against the couch as he draped an arm around the back of it, knees parting in a hopefully-natural manspreading. He pretended not to notice you walk this way, laughing at whatever Hoseok was saying. 
Yuna was the first to reach the seats, taking perch on the arm of the couch beside Hoseok. 
“What did we miss?” Yuna asked, slight slur to her words, which made Hoseok smile fondly and wrap a protective arm around her hips. 
“Nothing much.” he replied, kissing her on the arm under the attentive eyes of Yoongi. 
That was a mess Jungkook didn’t plan on getting involved with, nor would he be able to as you sat by his side on the couch, tucked under his stretched arm, glossy eyes and lips around the plastic straw you were sipping from. 
“Hi.” you greeted again, knocking the air out of his lungs. “You look handsome.” 
“I was about to tell you the same thing.” his lips were pulled up at the sides as his head tilted downwards to study your face. He liked the shimmery makeup on your lids. 
“No one ever told me I’m handsome before.” you giggled, proud of yourself for that little joke. 
“I meant I was about to tell you I’m handsome.” Jungkook played along with a grin, any noise around the two of you getting muffled, as if you were in a bubble. “You’re just pretty.” 
You were laughing sweetly, pastel pink nails a contrast to your red drink and the black  sleeve of your shirt. Jungkook didn’t think he ever saw you in clothes with colors. Not that he minded, his own closet was filled with blacks, grays and the occasional white. It was just something he noticed.
“What are you drinking?” he carried on, watching you slip the straw from your mouth. 
“No idea what it’s called, but it’s strawberry.” you lifted the glass towards him in offering. “Wanna try?” 
Jungkook gave you a small nod, liking the way your eyes followed the movement of his lips as he drank from your straw, tasting your gloss along with the alcohol, feeling the sticky of it on his mouth. 
After the sip, the fingertips from the hand that was behind you on the back of the couch dragged on the side of your neck as he said:
“You like it sweet and gentle, don’t you, doll?” he meant the drink, which was too sweet and not strong enough for him, but Jungkook loved the way you squirmed next to him, a small puff of air leaving your lips. 
Your mouth parted for you to speak, but you were interrupted as your bubble was popped and Taehyung plopped down on the couch on your other side. Hoseok and Yuna were no longer there, but Jungkook would have no clue about when either of them moved. 
“Hey, Yn.” Taehyung smiled brightly and you had to sit a little more angled so you could look at him, which pressed your side to Jungkook’s. 
“What’s up?” you smiled back, sweet tilt to your voice as you greeted his friend. 
In the almost three weeks you had been working for Jungkook, Tae hyung and Jimin hyung made visits to the house to see you; either bringing take out or drinks to be shared. None of those times had Jungkook been embarrassed by his friends, but he was still warry, letting his arm drop down your back to rest around your waist. 
“Do you like being a playmate?” Taehyung asked; leave it to him to choose that topic to make conversation. 
“Yeah, of course, or I wouldn’t be doing it.” you giggled, most likely taken back by the question. “I think it’s fun. Allows me to travel around and meet cool people.” 
“Is that what you want to work with forever?” the hyung continued, just as Jungkook’s fingers lightly squeezed your sides. 
“Why, you have another job for me?” you laughed, still getting used to Tae’s slightly random ways. “I’m not really looking for a change in career for now.”
“For now?” Jungkook surprised even himself by the glimmer of hope he felt at the prospects of a future you didn’t work with this. 
Jungkook would never shame you for what you did, especially now that he knew what being a playmate really entailed. But he couldn’t help but think about the future… The future where your Playmate/Client relationship might blossom into something more. 
“Well, being a playmate doesn’t really give you longevity career wise. While we look young and pretty is all good, but when we get older… Well, let’s just say you don’t get as many clients picking you in the sea of younger girls.” you explained, looking between Jungkook and Taehyung. “I don’t have plans to stop now, but in the future I might have to do something else.”
“Maybe we can do a drama together in the future!” Taehyung offered, knowing you wanted to be an actress. “That would be fun. We could make a cute on-screen couple.” 
“I think it would be more fun to play a villain.” you added, and Jungkook didn’t want to delve in the relief that flooded him. “Maybe with a nice death at the end of the season…” 
You and Taehyung got lost in the subject, where the hyung told you about how fun filming his death scene in Hwarang was, you asked him questions about his experiences on the set and if he planned on doing anything like that again. 
There wasn’t much that Jungkook could say, as the most acting he’d done was during the filming of VCRs for BTS concerts. But he would still nod and smile whenever you looked back at him, never wanting to feel left out. But Jungkook was more than happy just to hold you like this, gently running his fingers up and down your sides, occasionally kissing your shoulder as if it was the norm. 
A loud yelp coming from the bar interrupted the conversation, Jimin almost slipping from the bench he was sitting at while talking to one of Hoseok’s friends. It made Taehyung laugh at the drunk hyung, but he took his leave with the explanation of ‘someone better keep an eye on him’. 
When it was just the two of you on the couch, everyone else moving around and mingling, you left your empty cup on the table nearby and turned to face Jungkook. Your face was a little flushed from the alcohol, eyes a little unfocused as you studied his face. 
“I like your freckle.” you decided, pointer finger touching the bottom of his lip. “And your face.” 
“I like your face, too.” he chuckled, wondering if maybe your drink was stronger than he thought, or just how many shots you had with Yuna. “Should we get you some water?” 
“Alcoholic water?” you giggled, resting your hand on his thigh, slightly higher than he expected, making him gulp. 
“Water water.” Jungkook told you, making you pout and frown. You shook your head, cute as can be. 
“That’s boring, Kook, this is supposed to be a party.” you pointed out to him, looking around yourself and settling your attention on the stairs on the other side of the room. “What’s upstairs?”
“Some games, I think.” he shrugged, smile growing as your eyes widened. “Wanna check it out?” 
“Will you come with?” you chirped and he nodded, as if it wasn’t intended that he would. 
Jungkook didn’t plan on leaving your side, unless you asked him to. It should be weird, how he already spent his days next to you. But the more he had of you, the more he wanted. It was addicting really, from your personality to the way you looked. It was almost too good to be true. 
You stood up first, offering your hand to Jungkook to take, and led the way on wobbly knees to the stairs. The two of you passed by a winking Jimin and a red eyed Namjoon, receiving a thumbs up from a dancing Hoseok. 
The idol let you walk up first, keeping a hand on your hip to keep you from tripping over your heavy boots. And if he had a nice view of your ass, then that was an unplanned perk. 
“Air hockey!” you squealed as you saw the game table, leaving Jungkook behind as you walked to it. “I used to love this, my brother and I would spend our allowance on the arcade by the mall when we were growing up.”
“Why did you stop growing?” Jungkook asked as he patted your head, making you laugh prettily. 
“Stop that, my whole family is short, okay?” you batted his hand away, not minding his joke. “Wanna play?”
“I only play for a prize.” his arms crossed at his chest as Jungkook rested the side of his hips against the air hockey table. 
“What do you want?” you mirrored him, but as your arms crossed, your shirt became a little tighter and your breasts were just so…
“I win, you lose a button.” his mouth was speaking before his brain could catch up. 
It made you laugh and look down at your chest. “If you want to see them, all you gotta do is ask.”
“I like to earn it.” Jungkook’s shoulders raised and fell, relieved you weren’t offended by his bluntness. 
“I can think of a way or two you can do that.” your arms uncrossed and you touched his chest with a small hand. 
“Yeah?”
“Start the game, Kook.” 
You suddenly sounded sober, which was bad for his competitiveness, but good for his morals. 
Each of you went to an end of the table and as you took the bright yellow pushers and sent one sliding towards Jungkook, the man pressed the button to make the machine light up and tiny puffs of air covered the surface. The red disk was released on Jungkook’s side of the table, which gave him higher chances of starting the game with a score. 
“Hey, Kook?” you called, making him look at you. He froze on the spot as your fingers popped a button on your shirt, letting him see more of your chest, the black lace of the top of your bra a contrast with your skin. “A head start for you.” 
“Jesus, doll–” 
Your smile was almost innocent as you bent down a little more, so you could better look at the table and move your pusher over it to block any of his movements, but it also meant Jungkook had the perfect view of the plump mounds inside your flimsy top. 
You weren’t playing fair and the two of you knew it, too, but you still batted your eyelashes at him, waiting prettily for him to make the first move. 
At least he could say he tried. 
But it was a game lost from the start. 
Not only were you annoyingly good at the game, with fast moves and even quicker blocks, nothing got past you. Unsure if it was his worst nightmare or sweetest dream, your breasts would jiggle and bounce with your movements, which meant Jungkook was too distracted to block any of your own attacks. 
You made one point after the other and when the score was 6x0, you allowed the disk to slip into your side of the table, giving him a pity point. At your seventh point –an ironic number, if he could say so himself–, the table announced your victory. 
While you squealed and celebrated, Jungkook rolled his eyes and huffed at his loss. 
Jungkook hated losing. 
“Why are you called the golden maknae again?” you teased, licking between your lips. 
“You didn’t play fair and you fucking know it.”  he grumbled, shaking his head and avoiding your eyes. 
His attitude made you laugh harder as you walked toward him. “Damn, you’re a really sore loser.” 
“And you’re an unfair player.” 
“You’re cute like this, you know?” you stated and Jungkook’s cheeks betrayed him as he felt the blush creeping up on him, not getting much better as you took his wrist. “Come. I want my prize.” 
Jungkook would give you anything you ever wanted, no matter how annoyed he was. Especially as you walked to the furthest side of the barely empty second floor, the sway of your hips and the round of your ass too enticing for the young man to ignore. 
He had been right before and there really was a coin noraebang up there, which is exactly where you were leading Jungkook to. You pulled the flimsy door open and allowed him to walk in first. 
The cabin was a little claustrophobic, but big enough so his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling and the two of you could stand inside without bumping into each other. The walls were dark blue, reflecting the colorful strobe lights that made the interior feel like a club. A default song was playing, something by an old kpop band his parents used to listen to, as the instructions on how to use the karaoke system were displayed on the LED TV. 
“I don’t have any coins on me.” Jungkook patted his pockets even if he knew he didn’t even carry cash on him. 
“That’s okay, we won’t be singing.” 
Jungkook let his back hit the wall behind him, legs parting slightly as he rested against it. The man was smirking softly as he held you by the hips and let you fall into him. 
“What are we doing, then?” one of his eyebrows arched, even if he could read it in your eyes, and in the way you licked your lips, just what you wanted. 
“You’re my prize.” 
You were standing between his legs, hands on his chest, sliding up to link at the back of his neck as you pulled him closer to you. Jungkook squeezed your hips encouragingly, pressing your body just a bit tighter against him. He let you be the one to press your lips together, mouths moving in slow drags against each other. 
He hadn’t kissed you again since that night in his kitchen, when he came in his pants from dry humping you –mostly because he didn’t know how to ask for it–. Even if you did grow closer and your touches grew more constant. It was obvious he missed your mouth, with how eager Jungkook was to deepen the kiss; bold hands dragging down until your short skirt turned into soft skin and his grip turned firm. You gasped against his mouth, allowing his tongue to lick into yours. 
One of your hands slipped into his long hair and you squeezed it between your fingers, the burning on his scalp making Jungkook kiss you harder. His tattooed hand started inching higher, under your skirt, slow enough that you could tell him to stop if you didn’t want his advances, but all you did was push your ass into his hand. 
Jungkook felt his heart on his throat and blood rushing south with each flick of your tongue, each smack of your lips and each pretty little sound you made. He found lace when he squeezed your ass cheek, making you moan into his lips and press your body harder into his. The pressure on his cock, which was already filling up rather quickly, made him hiss and break the sloppy kiss. 
“Aren’t you glad you lost the game?” you whispered against his mouth, but Jungkook couldn’t answer when you took his bottom lip between your teeth, letting the meaty pillow drag as you bit and pulled. 
“It feels like I won.” he finally answered, long fingers flexing on your ass. 
“For a boob-guy, you seem to like my ass a lot.” you giggled, hand leaving his hair to touch his chest, down to his abs, making him flex his muscles. 
“I like all of you.” he admitted easily, but his hand left your ass to hold your waist. Between kisses delivered to your mouth, he murmured: “You’re my perfect little doll.” 
“Your doll, huh?” 
You weren’t denying it, but Hoseok’s words stubbornly made it to the forefront of his drunk thoughts. ‘They aren’t ours. They don’t belong to us’. It made Jungkook swallow the bitter lump that was starting to form, self doubt trying to grow roots in his heart. Thankfully your lips touching his neck was plenty of distraction. 
You licked and nipped at his skin as his hands roamed your body freely. Jungkook could hear voices and yells outside the booth, Hoseok’s friends playing whatever game was available, but instead of making him nervous, the possibility of one of them walking in on you was exciting. 
He was breathing hard, head tilted back as you explored his neck with your mouth, eyes closed shut. The hand that was resting on his stomach started moving south again; lower and lower until you cupped his erection, humming in appreciation as you felt the size and weight of it. 
Jungkook’s hand stopped at the back of your neck, giving it a light squeeze as you palmed him, rubbing your small hand up and down his cock over his dark denim. 
“Doll.” Jungkook whispered with a whine. You kissed his chin and hummed questioningly. “You feel really good.” 
“I can tell.” there was a smile on your lips as you kissed the mole under his bottom one. 
“But I don’t wanna cum in my pants again…” 
Not only wasn’t it the most comfortable, there was no way he’d spend the rest of the night with his own drying cum in his pants. The probability of him making a mess and someone noticing it was also substantially high. 
“Who said you’re going to?” 
You answered him with a question, but it didn’t make a lot of sense; or at least his blood really was rushing so low on his body that his thoughts were a little sluggish. You dropping to your knees between his legs was clear enough, though. 
“Fuck–” he cursed under his breath, looking at you get eye level with his crotch, hand still rubbing his erection on top of his pants. 
“Is this okay?” you asked, fingers reaching for his button. 
“Yes.” Jungkook hissed, biting his lip to stop a louder moan from echoing in the small booth. 
You batted your lashes at him, quickly undoing his button and zipper and pulling his pants down to his knees. Your pretty eyes widened and your lips parted as you could see the bulge inside his black boxers; apparently you didn’t get a good look at him when you caught him jerking one off with the thoughts of you, as you were taken back by his size. 
Jungkook grew up with six other boys, and boys being boys, they talked, measured and compared. He knew he was well above average, long and also thick. The way you were looking at him, unmoving, as if wondering how you could make it fit, stroked his ego deliciously. 
“Go on, doll.” he encouraged, hips bucking into your hand. “Don’t get shy on me now.” 
“Not shy–” you pouted, fingers hooking on the elastic band of his underwear. “Just highly impressed.” 
His boxers met his pants around his legs and Jungkook’s cock bounced free, leveled with your mouth, making Jungkook dizzy and throbbing. You held him by the base, small hand sliding up and down slowly as you felt the veins and ridges on your palm and fingers that didn’t meet all the way around him, breath heavy as you licked your lips. 
“You’re really big.” you said, face inching closer. 
“Do you not like it?” Jungkook smirked from above you, how you felt about his cock was pretty evident. 
“I like it very much.” you still answered, lifting his cock so you could kiss the underside of it, making him hiss. 
Jungkook’s hands were on his sides, fingers twitching to hold you by the head and push his cock into your mouth. There was no way you didn’t feel it pulsing on your hand, the tip was leaking pre-cum as you kissed up and down his shaft as if you had all the time in the world. 
When you leg go of his cock, your hands rested on his muscular thighs and you looked up at him, mouth open and tongue out. You brought your parted mouth to his cock, letting his tip drag on the flat of your tongue, slight bobbing movements as your wet muscle caught the clear beads leaking from his tip. 
“Close your lips around it, baby.” Jungkook instructed with a horace voice, fingers caressing your pink cheeks as you did so. “Good girl. Now suck on it a little, hm?” 
Your mouth was full, so you didn’t answer him, wrapping your lips tight against his dick and sucking on the head. Your tongue swirling around it inside your mouth was making him sweat and curse obscenities, upper teeth sinking on his bottom lip. The tip of your tongue swiped and poked at his slit, making his hand slip to the back of your head to take hold of your hair. 
“Put some more into your mouth.” Jungkook asked, watching you slide lower, jaw relaxing to fit more of his cock. He loved how obedient you were. “That’s it… Fuck, let it touch the back of your throat–” 
It didn’t take much for him to feel the constriction of your mouth, the tightness of your throat as you pushed him deeper, just barely reaching the middle of his cock. You threatened to pull back, but his hand forced you down. When you looked up to his face, Jungkook searched your eyes for discomfort or uneasiness, but all he found was pleasure and want. 
He watched as you forced him a little deeper, the squeeze around his cock making him groan lowly. Tears rimmed your eyes when he let you pull back; spit connecting your lips to his tip. You spit the excess in your hand and used it to stroke him up and down and you got your breath back. 
“You’re hot like this.” you told him with a raspy voice that made you grimace. “Telling me what to do.” 
“That’s because you’re a doll that likes taking orders, aren’t you?” he teased, collecting your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it’d be out of your way and so that he could better see your face. “And you like being good. Will you be good for me?” 
“Yeah, I’ll be so good.” you whined, pressing your legs together, eyes fluttering as he tightened his grip on your hair. 
“Then open that pretty mouth for me.” he asked, and you did, swollen red lips parting instantly. With his free hand, Jungkook held his own cock and tugged it up, using the hold on your hair to bring you closer. You understood what he wanted, clearly, as you eagerly licked at his balls. “Be gentle, doll… Yeah, just like– oh, fuck.”
You took one of them into your mouth and suckled slowly and carefully while he stroked and pumped his cock, waves and wakes of pleasure washing over him. You mouthed and licked the other one and it was almost too much for Jungkook. 
“Let me have that dirty mouth.” Jungkook sighed, trying to collect himself, but it was almost impossible with the way you looked on your knees for him. 
“You can have anything you want.” 
If only you knew all he wanted to do to you, with you, you might not offer it to him so willingly. 
Jungkook let you take his cock in your hand and you immediately brought it into your warm and wet mouth, slurping and sucking as you were determined to make him reach his end. The idol held onto your hair but didn’t push or pull you, he let you please him however you wanted. 
While your small hand squeezed and stroked what you couldn’t fit into your mouth, your head bobbed with want and need. His tip would constantly hit the back of your throat and you’d swallow around him. Spit was licking from the corners of your lips as you picked up your pace according to the sounds and moans leaving Jungkook. 
You could read his face, notice the spasms of his body, his quickening breath. Jungkook’s balls were drawing up as his stomach tensed, there was a slight tremble to his legs, a little pressure on the back of your head. 
“Gonna cum, doll, fuck–” he admitted what you both already knew. 
It encouraged you to suck him harder, slurping sounds ricochetting on the walls. Your mouth felt so good around him, so tight and warm and messy. You looked like fucking sin; determined, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Your mouth focused on his sensitive head as your hand tugged him up and down, flicking and twisting fast and hard. 
“Yeah, yeah, don’t stop– ahh, fuck–!” 
Jungkook forgot his surroundings when his lower abdomen clenched and he couldn’t hold back the inevitable no more, not even having the strength to warn you before his cock released thich ribbons of white. You were undeterred as you kept going, slower this time, taking all his load like the perfect good girl, swallowing each spurt, humming and moaning around him. 
You milked him of his last drop, pulling him out of your mouth to kitten lick around his tip to clean him up. When his head tilted forward, half lidded eyes focusing on you, you opened his mouth to let him see you swallowed everything down. 
“Such a good girl for me…” Jungkook cooed, letting go of your hair and caressing your red cheek. “Come up here.” 
You kissed the low of his stomach as you pulled his underwear up, carefully tucking him in, but he handled you to put you back on your feet to smack his lips against yours. You melted into him, arms around his neck as you allowed him to lick around your mouth, tasting himself. 
“I’ll take that water now–” you admitted with a small giggle, sore throat after all your hard work. 
“You can have anything you want.” 
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191 notes · View notes
maplesyrupsainz · 16 hours
Note
Congrats on 1k angel! So proud of you and your incredible mind! May I please request a Charles Leclerc blurb with number 5 off the prompt list? My bashful, shy self would melt, especially with it being written by your hand.
pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader y/n (she/her)
genre: blurb
warnings: none
prompt: five [driver] trying to get you to go on a date with him
a/n: thank u so much omg this is the sweetest ask ever i hope this lives up to ur expectations 🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🫶 it's kind of SO LONG hahahaha but it was fun to write tbh i couldn't stop 😛
my masterlist | 1k celebration
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you knew nothing about formula one whatsoever. well, you knew it was fast cars driving around in circles. somehow your best friend had finally dragged you to a race after begging for what felt like forever.
so here you were, stood in the middle of the paddock alone, lost and extremely confused. your friend was dating a driver and had said they would both meet you at his garage, however you did not know where you were at all.
“lost?” you heard a male voice from behind you, startling you slightly. “oh, sorry. i didn't mean to scare you.”
“you're fine,” you brushed it off, “i actually am super lost.”
“yea, you're not keeping it much of a secret.” he chuckled softly, causing a slight blush of pink to rise onto your cheeks. “where are you trying to get to?”
“my best friend, i'm supposed to be meeting her at..” you paused softly as you unlocked your phone to check the garage name you had been texted earlier that morning. “alpine.”
“ah!” the man's eyes lit up with some sort of recognition. “you are kika’s friend. i will take you to her.”
“oh, it's really okay if you just send me in the right sort of direction. you don't need to go out of your way for me,” you smile at him softly, willing him to leave you alone with your eyes – you are much too shy to be spending too much time with a man, a very attractive one at that.
“oh don't worry, i couldn't leave a girl as pretty as you out here alone. follow me,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you before turning on his heel, with you following behind meekly.
“so,” the dreaded word left his lips; now you were going to have to converse with this gorgeous man. “how long have you known kika?”
“my whole life, we went to prom together and everything.” you smile to yourself at the memory, and he lets out a laugh that sounds like music to your ears. the mindless small talk seems to come somewhat easy to you with him, a first for sure. you almost feel disappointed when you see what is clearly the alpine garage ahead of you.
“ah, here we are.” he smiles at you, before suddenly offering his hand to you. “by the way, i'm charles.”
“y/n,” you say and nod softly at him, taking his outstretched hand to shake hesitantly.
“y/n,” he repeats, studying your face much too intently, causing the pink blush from earlier to return to your cheeks. “and what are you doing this evening, y/n?”
you shrug and mumble out a reply along the lines of claiming to be hanging out kika and her boyfriend, pierre. in reality, you have no plans at all but the way this stranger says your name sends your head spinning and butterflies filling your stomach.
“let me take you out.” he states abruptly, catching you off guard completely. you have never had a man as gorgeous as charles hit on you so blatantly before.
a small laugh escapes your lips as you begin to shake your head before speaking, “i'm not sure about that..” you see charles’ brow furrow slightly at your reply; a man so beautiful must be shocked by a rejection.
“y/n! charles! you guys met!” you almost sigh in relief as you hear the voice of your best friend behind you, and the feeling of her grabbing you into an embrace that you gladly return.
“kika, i'm so glad to see you,” you say, muffled into her hair as you hug. she lets go of you, holding you at arms length and studying you intently, making you laugh.
“you just get more and more beautiful every time i see you!” she exclaims in glee before turning to charles, “hi charles, i'm glad you got to meet my beautiful friend.”
“the pleasure is all mine,” he flashed a grin at you, causing the butterflies that lay dormant in your stomach to take flight again.
“anyway, i just wanted to say, y/n,” kika looked at you mischievously, “me and pierre have something on tonight. i wanted to check that you're okay keeping yourself entertained this evening?” you narrowed your eyes at her. you knew exactly what she was doing.
“actually,” you look up at the new voice in the conversation, to see pierre with his arm slung lazily over charles’ shoulders. “how about you and charles hang out, y/n? i think you'd get on.”
“what an amazing idea!” kika lets out a squeal, clapping her hands together.
“no, i–”
“i'll see you tonight then, y/n. 7?” charles winked at you, before turning on his heel and heading back to his own garage, you assumed. you groaned.
“guys...”
“oh y/n/n, you'll thank us later, i'm sure.” pierre, laughing at your obvious discomfort.
181 notes · View notes
silantryoo · 2 days
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nakamura kazuha x le sserafim!reader (fluff)
WARNINGS ; scheming, possessiveness (non-toxic)
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kazuha lived a hectic life, almost as hectic as her mind.
at age three, she decided to throw herself into a raging fire.
she had listened to one of her close friends (as close as children could get at that age, at least) rave about how fun their after-school activities were. how she felt like the spotlight was on her, and only her.
kazuha would never admit it, but she craved attention. she yearned to be seen and be recognized, to be watched and to amaze. her after-school activities (read: watching cartoons and drawing stick figures for her parents to interpret) left her with a restlessness, one that relayed onto her parents.
("kazuha! stop cutting holes into your blankets!")
nearly all her childhood memories consisted of school and ballet. it was a monotonous rinse and repeat. each day, she woke up with the dull sensation of aching and routine.
it was fun. it was exciting.
kazuha knew she was good. there was no doubt about it. she would get comments from other parents, praising her, and her mom and dad constantly walked around with their chins held high, knowing how well they're daughter performed.
she was a performer. an amazing one at that.
it didn't go unrecognized. as soon as she reached high school, she earned herself a hefty scholarship, attending one of the most rigorous ballet academies in the world.
kazuha had everything a ballerina could ever want to achieve, but somehow, a sudden emptiness started to consume her.
ballet was fun. kazuha knew what to do to get the spotlight. she knew how to catch the attention of the audience. it was a test, a rigorous evaluation of everything she knew in each class, in each recital.
it was a test, one which she had studied.
but nakamura kazuha wanted to perform.
she would've lied if she said she joined hybe purely out of ambition.
kazuha knew about kpop. she wasn't born in the last century. she, although not as diehard as her roommate, liked blackpink and bts. she knew their discography well enough to attend concerts, and her roommate usually blasted some random song from an idol group while washing the dishes.
(she refused to mention her secret twitter page that somehow shifted into a blackpink fan account.)
when she had gotten the email from hybe, kazuha was more than hesitant. she heard horror stories about the training, how foreigners were forced to speak a language they knew none of. kazuha was already accustomed to how rigorous ballet was, but she knew that the language barrier would be the final straw to making her break.
still, she couldn't do this forever. she couldn't die doing ballet, of feeling the dull ache of something missing.
"i don't know." kazuha sighed, gritting her teeth as she thought about that email again.
Dear Nakamura Kazuha...
("how did they find out my email address and my full name?!")
her roommate sighed. "i think you should."
"and leave everything behind?" kazuha shivered at the thought. change was fun as it was scary. "what if my parents say no?.
mina shook her head. "as if they would. they know how your brain works."
kazuha couldn't disagree with her. her parents were her number one supporters. if she decided to be a cashier at the nearest 7eleven, they would support her.
"besides," mina smirked. kazuha always became worried when her friend was smug. "i heard some of the izone members-"
l/n y/n.
"izone?"
kazuha hadn't known much about izone in all honesty.
all she knew was that miyawaki sakura, honda hitomi, and yabuki nako were in the group. she had heard their songs, and although she had always wanted to get into them, she never had the time.
but then there was you.
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your minju-unnie said that it was okay that your family group disbanded. she said that it was an opportunity for growth and change, and despite her face full of tears, you tried your best to believe her.
packing your bags was the hardest thing you had to do. your roommates, wonyoung and yujin, were quiet and solemn. it was unlike the three of you. your unnies always heard shouting from your room, whether it was you and yujin arguing over the air conditioning, or wonyoung begging you to go shopping with her.
you were their maknaes.
now, you were no one's.
being a group of thirteen, someone was always left out, no matter how hard eunbi or sakura tried. sometimes, it was one of the two. other times, it was willingly hyewon, trying to avoid working.
sometimes, it was you.
everyone grouped up. yujin and wonyoung were going back to their company, starship. hitomi, sakura, and nako were getting ready to fly back to japan. yena and yuri talked to a bumbling and restless chaewon, crying into their arms. chaeyeon and hyewon were in the corner, worriedly watching eunbi as she scanned everyone's faces.
"y/n-ah."
you turned around, wiping the tears off your face.
"minju-unnie." you couldn't help but smile at the older girl.
minju was your rock.
she was a year older, and almost, if not more, confused than you about the whole idol thing. she was shy and insecure, always double-checking if things were done right.
but she was always there. minju always cared, even when she didn't have time to care.
she was the older sister you had always wanted (regardless of whatever chaewon and yena said during interviews and lives).
"give me a hug."
"okay."
you smiled, holding her tight. you could feel her tears dripping onto your shoulder, and her hand gripping your shirt.
minju was afraid, just like you were.
"i'm still your unnie after this, okay?" you didn't know if minju was trying to convince you or herself, but it didn't matter. "talk to me about anything."
you pulled back.
why did this feel like a goodbye? why did it feel like everyone knew this was a goodbye.
you didn't want them to leave. you didn't want them to forget you.
"unnie-"
"i'll be okay." minju could always read your mind somehow. "everything will be okay."
"okay." it'll be okay. everything will be okay. you'll still have your family members. "i trust you, unnie."
a week later, you, chaewon, minju, and sakura received an email.
everything will be okay.
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being okay came in the form of nakamura kazuha.
you had seen her on that video call, talking in broken sentences with a cute accent. she read the paper in front of her, and you could visibly remember the light reflecting the hiragana pronunciation from the back.
a month later, she flew in.
nakamura kazuha was pretty.
a soft knock echoed through your room, the vinyl drowning it out after a few moments. the clock on your table read one am.
it could've been anyone of your group members at this point. maybe it was yunjin, dragging you out to go eat with one of her friends (despite it being past midnight). it could've been sakura, just wanting to sit next to you as she knitted. maybe it was eunchae too, claiming your room was colder despite her living in a different dorm complex. maybe it was chaewon...
you shook your head. chaewon wouldn't leave her room.
the door creaked open, puppy eyes staring back at you.
"hi."
kazuha.
you smiled. part of you was glad that minju never took the offer from hybe, otherwise she would pester you nonstop about your (extremely obvious) crush on the japanese ballerina.
you waved your hand, telling her to go inside. the younger girl beamed at you, a red tint dusting the apples of her cheeks.
"i got something!"
you raised an eyebrow, sitting up as you tried to peak at what she was holding.
"what is it?"
kazuha blinked, trying to calm herself down from bursting at the thought of spending time with you.
it didn't matter to her that you two had been friends for more than a year. being near you was enough to make her heart double in size.
"i, uh, i bought a lego set." she couldn't show that her confidence was wavering. "yunjin-unnie doesn't wanna do it with me."
you frowned.
you loved yunjin as much as the next person did, but you hated it when kazuha talked about her. the ballerina seemed to worship the ground that yunjin walked on.
the worst part was the fact you couldn't blame her. back in izone, there was a moment in time when you had done the same with one of your former members.
minju still teased you about your former crush.
the room went quiet, and kazuha could tell that you were caught in your head again. she always wondered if you thought about her when you were lost in your thoughts. maybe if she knew, she would find the courage to tell you her true feelings.
kazuha fiddled with the box, her voice suddenly a whisper.
"do you," kazuha blushed harder. "do you wanna do it with me?"
although you knew that kazuha most likely went to you after yunjin had said no, you couldn't help but agree. it didn't matter to you that you always seemed to be kazuha's second thought. all that mattered was that she thought of you.
you nodded, and the younger girl couldn't help but smile brightly.
("it'll be a good excuse for you to confess! maybe you'll even kiss her."
"unnie!")
you moved aside, letting kazuha sit across from you. she couldn't help but blush at the feeling of your covers. your room always seemed softer and brighter than hers, just like how you seemed prettier than everyone else.
kazuha sighed. maybe yunjin was right. maybe kazuha had fallen a bit too much in like and ended up in love.
she didn't mind though, not when you felt so familiar to the spotlight.
"these flowers are pretty." you looked closely at the orchids, humming as you traced the box with your finger.
mina had always mentioned how she was a sucker for pretty girls. she vividly remembers the two of them in their second-grade science class, kazuha tensing up whenever her teacher came near, or the time that one of her closest friends back in the academy complimented her physique, and she stiffened up so hard that she strained her neck.
when she first saw you during that video call, she was more calm than she expected. kazuha knew that she was gonna meet her celebrity crush, and the thought of you knowing she existed nearly made her brain short-circuit but she prepared. kazuha wasn't weak-willed.
and then she met you in real life.
somehow, she had forgotten how to speak at all.
("kazuha, right?"
"mmh!")
even after two years, she still struggled to form thoughts around you. it wasn't her fault that you were pretty.
kazuha cleared her throat, her face heating up as she realized how long she had stayed silent.
the two of you got to work quickly, the lull of the record playing. pieces of lego scattered your bedsheet, the two of you (mostly just you) struggling to figure out which piece went where.
"so..." you fiddled with a piece, one that you assumed to be the leaf. "you got these for yunjin-unnie?"
kazuha snapped out of her daze, too focused on completing the set in front of her. she always got too into these things.
"huh?"
"the flowers." you smiled, holding back an 'aw'. kazuha was too adorable for her own good. "you said yunjin-unnie didn't want to build them with you."
kazuha couldn't help but avoid your gaze.
she knew that you weren't exactly the best when it came to anything that required hand-eye coordination and focus. she also knew that she desperately wanted to spend time with you. you had been too busy meeting up with your former members and she had been missing you a bit too much.
she had seen the set while window-shopping.
they looked easy enough, one that wouldn't confuse you as much as the other ones, but hard enough to make sure it took more than one sitting.
it was a perfect excuse.
"oh, um," kazuha didn't know why it suddenly got so hot in your room. "no, i got them just because."
you glanced at her, watching as she toyed with the piece in her hand. you had no reason to doubt the younger girl, but you had to admit it was odd.
you couldn't complain, however. kazuha was here, and that's all you wanted.
the two of you continued, you looking over every so often. the scattered pieces seemed to never end, and despite the younger girl's dexterity, your lack of seemed to prolong the process more than it should've (just like she had hoped).
"this has a lot of parts." you muttered, feeling bad. "i think you picked the wrong person for this, zuha."
kazuha, like always, smiled at you as if she was smiling for the audience.
"i don't mind it taking long."
it was breathtaking.
"if you say so..."
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you yawned, rubbing your eyes as you curled up against the futon.
you loved comebacks more than an idol should. it was fun to roam around, exploring the building of whatever showcase it was. being the only extrovert in le sserafim, you also made it your duty to help the others (and yourself) connect with whoever you seemed to cross paths with.
most days, you would already be outside, introducing sakura to whoever walked by.
not today. not when you were running on three hours of sleep.
"y/n-ah," sakura's voice echoed in your brain. "did you see my iron anywhere?"
"chaewon-unnie had it last." you yawned out.
sakura glared at her leader, watching as chaewon dug through her comically large bag. she needed to use it after the show. chaewon couldn't look like a mess in front of min anyone.
the leader stared you down, your peaceful body irritating her.
"snitch."
your mouth dropped open.
a couple years ago, back in izone, chaewon wouldn't dare insult you (although snitch was barely an insult). it didn't matter whether you barged into her room unannounced and left the door open, insulting you was off-limits.
as one of your unnie's once said, insulting you is equivalent to scolding a kitten who didn't know any better.
"i'm telling eunbi-unnie!" you whined, pouting.
chaewon laughed, pinching your cheek as if your threat meant nothing to her. you were basically her little sister after all. the worst thing that your 'mom' would do was scold her.
"like you told her about your crush on zuha?" chaewon snorted as she saw how red your cheeks had suddenly gotten. "how she's so pretty when she dances and how you wanna kiss her?"
you slapped her arm away, embarrassed. you should've known that eunbi had told chaewon (and probably the rest of the other girls) about your infatuation with the ballerina in your current group.
maybe that's why wonyoung gave you a thumbs up when she saw you and kazuha gathering drinks for the rest of your members.
"kkura-unnie!" you turned to the eldest, her figure hidden under a purple blanket. "chaewon-unnie being annoying again!"
you stared at the blob, waiting for it to utter a word. something that hopefully defended you from your child-like leader. sakura tended to take your side, anyway, except when-
you squinted, watching as the blanket shook up and down.
was she...
"stop laughing!" you groaned, throwing your head back.
you thought that somehow, especially since hong eunchae was in your group, chaewon and sakura would stop treating you like a maknae.
it seemed to be worse now, the two throwing jabs at your unrequited crush when the three of you were left alone.
"when are you gonna ask her out, y/n-ah?" sakura sat up, her voice drowning out the door opening. "you can't pine forever."
eunchae looked around, her eyes beaming with curiosity.
"ask who out?"
chaewon screamed as the youngest's voice echoed from behind, her eyes wide open as she jumped onto the couch. somehow, sakura followed with her, the sheer volume of the leader's voice frightening her.
"jesus, eunchae..." chaewon clutched her heart. "you scared me."
beside her, sakura's head hung low as she tried to catch her breath.
eunchae chose to ignore the two, glancing at you with shining wonder.
"who are you gonna ask out, unnie?"
she already knew who you were talking about. eunchae wasn't dumb. she saw the quiet glances and the bright smiles you and kazuha sent to each other. she knew that sakura saw it too.
but somehow, neither you nor your ballerina did.
you bit your tongue, debating whether or not to tell the younger girl in front of you.
you trusted eunchae. the young girl knew how to keep a secret unlike some people (yunjin and chaewon), but you also knew she had a tendency to meddle when the chance was given to her. it was why your junior, minji, and chaewon were so adamant about keeping her and her friend, haerin, away from each other.
you hummed, blurting out the second name that you could think of.
"minju-unnie."
"minju-sunbaenim?" eunchae shook her head. she didn't know you were this bad at lying. "as if chaewon-unnie would let that happen."
all eyes shifted to chaewon as her ears burned a firey red.
"yah!"
eunchae rolled her eyes, pouting as she ignored her leader's half-hearted scolding.
"so?" the youngest continued to press. "who is it?"
you shrugged, not knowing that the two of you were thinking about the same girl. "no one."
"but-"
the door opened, kazuha and yunjin entering the cramped room with a boxful of cheesecake.
chaewon frowned. she had told them to get real food. not dessert.
"what is that?" chaewon glared at the white reflecting the lights.
yunjin looked down, half confused and half serious. "it's a container...?"
with a deep breath, chaewon closed her eyes. she always wondered how eunbi managed to keep some sanity when choi yena, kang hyewon, and ahn yujin were all under her care.
part of her knew that if yunjin was added to that mix, eunbi would combust.
"but i ordered rice...?"
chaewon looked at the proud smile on her member's face. "it's made with flour, so it's close enough."
huh yunjin was gonna give her an aneurysm.
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"have you told her yet?"
being ambushed while drying her hair wasn't exactly how kazuha wanted to spend her night.
in all honesty, she had mentally prepared herself to confess to you later today. from the moment her six alarms rang, she knew that she'd do it.
she didn't take into account how many people would stop by and say hi to you.
kazuha frowned. why did you know so many pretty people?
"no..."
yunjin frowned, pointing at her with the fork in her hand. "you said you'd do it today?"
kazuha loved the thrill of the spotlight. she loved showing the world that, not only was she talented, she was confident. she held herself with a poise that she knew many people could never compare to.
kazuha never crumbled under the presence of the spotlight.
why was it so different with you?
"told who what yet?"
kazuha spun around, her eyes wide. it had slipped her mind eunchae usually drank a caprisun around this time. something about her nightly routine...
(kazuha tried to pay attention, but eunchae talked fast, faster than she could translate in her head.)
"what?" yunjin laughed awkwardly, her mouth scrunching up. "told who what?"
leave it to yunjin to make things obvious.
"you're such a bad liar, unnie." eunchae rolled her eyes. "so, who is it zuha-unnie?"
kazuha swallowed air, her fingers nervously tapping on her side. if eunchae found out, there was no doubt that she'd tell you before kazuha herself could.
"no one."
the youngest sighed. everyone seemed to think she was five years old or something. they might as well have told her santa was real.
eunchae shook her head, plastering an unbothered smile on her face.
the maknae had decided a while ago to not get in between you and kazuha. she liked how the two of you acted like two stupid shoujo characters, dancing around their feelings. yes, it frustrated her, but at the very least, she found daily entertainment.
everyone had forced her hand.
"oh..." eunchae nodded. "you're just like y/n-unnie."
kazuha's head perked up almost instantly, like a dog when they smelt a treat nearby.
"what?" eunchae knew something about you? was it something she didn't know? "what about her?"
the youngest bit back a smirk.
"i heard that she was gonna ask someone out."
someone...
kazuha frowned.
someone?
did she know them? were they close to you? was it one of your former members? was that why you had been so busy visiting them instead of paying attention to her?
"who?" kazuha's mind couldn't stop racing as she named all the people you had visited in the past month.
eunchae chuckled, squeezing past her and grabbing a drink from the fridge. "i'm not telling!"
"what?" gears turned in kazuha's head, her frown deepening. "who?"
eunchae smiled. if she was right and kazuha thought like any lead in any of her favorite tv shows, planning a seed of anxiety would be enough for her to finally do something.
"she's probably teasing, zuha." yunjin's voice was laced with nervousness, never before seeing kazuha in such a state of panic.
"maybe..." the youngest sighed.
wow... she was a genius.
"so," the youngest stabbed her juice open, sipping as she acted innocently. "do you guys think minju-sunbaenim is pretty?"
the kitchen went silent.
"...what?"
yunjin's eyes widened. she never knew kazuha's voice could be so intimidating.
"minju-sunbaenim?"
minju? kim minju?
how was she supposed to compete against kim minju?
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kazuha liked spending time with you.
she liked how easily she made you laugh, how your eyes seemed to brighten at every word she uttered. she took note of how your cheeks tinged red, and how you'd stare at her as if she was the focus of your attention.
your spotlight was on her.
she'd never tell you, but there was a reason why she had gotten so close to yunjin out of nowhere.
it was obvious how you liked jokes, stupid or not. you laughed at whatever was said, even if imaginary tomatoes were being hurled towards the other person.
huh yunjin always managed to make you laugh, and kazuha knew from the first day she met you that she wanted that as well. she wanted your eyes on her and only her.
("take it."
"a joke book, yunjin-unnie? i don't think..."
"it'll work. trust me.")
now, the spotlight was somewhere else. somewhere familiar... somewhere you were used to.
it was driving her insane.
kazuha looked up, watching as you struggled with the legos in your hand.
"do you like minju-sunbaenim?"
you paused, confusion suddenly appearing in your eyes.
"minju-unnie?"
kazuha, too filled with anxiousness and determination, thought nothing of it.
"do you like her?"
you blinked. kazuha had never been this blunt, nor this flat with you.
your searched your brain for an explanation, but none came to. "where'd this come from?"
kazuha frowned. that wasn't a no.
"eunchae said you did."
you laughed quietly, shaking your head as the girl in front of you sulked. gently, you put the last piece together, staring at the orchid head in your hand.
"don't listen to eunchae." you smiled, her eyes hardening as she took in your words. "she just heard i liked someone and-"
someone?
there was someone, just not kim minju.
kazuha nodded internally. she could compete with someone. in fact, she was sure she would win. as long as it wasn't another person like minju (god forbid it was hyewon), she'd be fine.
hell, she'd fight lee chaeyeon for you.
"who?"
"who?" you blushed under the dim light of your lamp, the thought of confessing to kazuha outright flustering you. "someone..."
the ballerina clenched her jaw. she didn't understand why you wouldn't tell her.
she was greedy. she had always been. kazuha needed to learn to share the spotlight, but she had always struggled with it. she needed to learn to accept that not everything came to her the way she wanted it to, no matter how hard she tried.
"i think we did it!" you smiled, clicking the last piece of the set together. "i'm so glad that's over with-"
she wasn't gonna share you.
kazuha crawled over, not caring that her knee had crushed the bottom of the pot that the two of you worked so hard on.
"kazuha!"
your eyes widened in horror as it shattered under her weight. it took you two hours of work, and so much patience that you felt like you had transcended time at certain points.
kazuha didn't care.
she craved the spotlight. she craved you.
her hand rested on the side of your neck, pulling you into a kiss she had so desperately dreamt of each night.
you barely registered what was going on, your brain hopping from grieve to confusion to flustered in less than a second. her mouth was on yours. kazuha was kissing you.
humming, your eyes screwed shut as you focused all your attention on her. you could taste the faint layer of chapstick on her lips, the one that you had always wondered what tasted like.
sweet. you smiled. like her perfume.
you pulled back awkwardly, watching as she semi-hovered over you, and struggled to maintain her position.
"focus on me instead." she ignored the sharp pieces digging themselves into her knee. "like me instead, unnie."
you looked into her dark irises, her breathing heavy as they searched yours. you couldn't believe how out of nowhere kazuha had been. you had known her long enough to know how she kept her thoughts to herself, rarely speaking out unless something had happened.
you paused.
oh.
"eunchae, you sneaky little..." you shook your head, deciding to scold the youngest another time. now, your focus was kazuha.
her eyes never wavered away from yours, almost as if she was silently pleading for confirmation.
with a smile, you chuckled. "you're the someone, kazuha."
kazuha's face went blank, shifting to her knees.
"huh?" her face heat up. she had never been more embarrassed in her life. "but eunchae said..."
you gave her a pointed look.
"exactly."
kazuha clenched her eyes as she sat back to the opposite of you. how did a fifteen-year-old manage to out-smart her.
i got played.
"so..." kazuha sat cross-legged, glancing sadly at the broken figure in front of her. "i broke our flowers for nothing?"
you couldn't help but let out a laugh, watching as the girl across from you reminisced about the state of the lego set a few minutes ago.
"it's okay." you hummed, picking up the pieces. "it just means more time together."
kazuha hummed happily, going back to work to fix the vase. the more time she spent with you, the better.
together...
that was another conversation for another day.
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eunchae stared at the fake flowers on the living room table, smiling as her scheming had worked perfectly.
she was glad that you two were finally dating, even if that meant you and kazuha (poorly) snuck around the dorms.
it was also a plus that she got treats for not telling chaewon about anything (not like she was going to).
"do you know orchids mean love?" sakura said, glancing at her phone.
"love?" chaewon laughed. you were too young to know what love was. "y/nnie didn't even have her first kiss yet."
yunjin's eyes bulged out, not sure if she was hearing wrong. "she didn't tell you?"
"unnie."
"oops."
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> main masterlist.
243 notes · View notes
minkyungseokie · 2 days
Text
When Nothing Goes Right | LS2
synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be
warnings; none
note; requested
note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother
Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
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It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.
Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.
Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.
Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.
                     •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•
Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.
As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"
Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.
Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.
"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.
She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.
It wasn't hard.
She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.
The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.
The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.
Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.
"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed
Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.
“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.
“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.
•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•
Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.
Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.
“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.
Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.
“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.
Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.
He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.
Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.
“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That’s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”
“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.
James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”
“But—“
“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.
Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology
“I love you.”
“Love you too. Now let’s go.”
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ladysharmaa · 2 days
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Worry
Jay Halstead x reader
Summary: When Y/n has an accident with Jay's car, she fears his reaction. However, she is surprised by the real reason for his concern
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Y/n was still thinking about everything that had gone wrong that day. Her head hurt, probably from the cut on her forehead and the bruise that was beginning to form on her cheek. However, the guilt that settled in her body was the worst of all.
It all started when she woke up late for work. Since she was still an intern at the company, Y/n couldn't be late, or her boss would be even more unpleasant than usual. On top of that, she didn't have a car, as she left it at her house and spent the night at Jay's, her boyfriend of five months, who had picked her up from work.
So Jay lent her the car, saying Hailey could give him a ride. Little did she know that this would be the worst decision ever. When she was returning home at the end of the day, she was at an intersection when suddenly a dog ran into the street. As she tried to avoid it, she hit a car coming in the opposite direction.
The impact was enough for her to hit her head on the steering wheel, hence the cut and bruise. She was so scared, her ears were ringing and she only managed to come out of the shock when the driver of the other car got out of his vehicle and started banging on her window, screaming angrily at her.
Y/n's eyes burned with tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks, but the girl tried to stop them from falling. It would just make her more pathetic, she thought. Other drivers saw what had happened and called 911 and told them what had happened. Fortunately, the other vehicle wasn't as damaged as Jay's.
Her injuries were attended to on the spot, something Y/n couldn't have been happier about. So Will, Jay's brother, couldn't see her and call her boyfriend, only scaring him when he was working. They even let her drive home, since the car was drivable and she could decide which workshop to take it to for repairs.
Now, Y/n was sitting on the couch, anxiously waiting for Jay to get home. She had already thought of many ways on how to tell Jay what happened, but none of them calmed her nerves. He was going to be so upset, he lent her the car and she couldn't even be trusted with that.
Finally, she heard the keys open the door and Jay's voice echoed through the house, "Babe, are you here?" he questioned, hoping she had come to his house instead of going to her small apartment.
"In the living room." she said, keeping her gaze on the ground, not having the courage to look her boyfriend in the eyes and reveal to him what had happened to his precious car.
"Hey, baby." Jay smiled when he saw her sitting on the couch.
However, a frown quickly formed on his face when she didn't get up to greet him. Normally she would jump into his arms and kiss every part of his face until finally kissing his lips passionately. It was his favorite part of the day.
Y/n finally looked up at him when she felt him approaching her. Her eyes filled with tears again and her throat tightened when she saw Jay's face change when he noticed his injuries. He immediately got down on his knees in front of her, gently holding her chin so he could move her face and inspect her cut and bruise. She also noticed the way his hands were shaking.
"What the hell happened?" he questioned, feeling his heart tighten. His gaze then hardened, "Who did this to you? I'll kill them."
"Jay, I'm so sorry." Y/n murmured, her eyes filling with even more tears, which made Jay worry even more. What the hell had happened to his girlfriend and who did he have to beat?
"Why are you apologizing? I'm not understanding, baby. Tell me what happened so that I can fix it, yeah?"
"Your car…" the girl sobbed, unable to say a sentence without tears falling down her cheeks. Jay pulled her to his chest, hugging her until she calmed down enough to tell her what had happened. "A dog crossed the road and when I tried to avoid it I hit a car. And you trusted me with your car and I crashed. I'm so sorry, Jay, I really am and—"
"Slow down, Y/n. Breathe." Jay asked, alarmed by how her face was getting redder since she still hadn't stopped to inhale. His thumb stroked her uninjured cheek, hoping it would comfort her.
"No, I'm sorry. The car is still drivable, but it has a dent and is scratched. But I can afford the repair. I just need a few weeks and talk to my boss to pay me in advance, but I swear I'll sort this out. I know you need a car for work but you can use mine and I'll use the bus in the meantime."
"Y/n!" Jay exclaimed so she would finally shut up and listen to him. He cupped her cheeks carefully, forcing her to look directly at him. "Listen to me, you won't pay for anything. I don't care about the car, I care about you. So please calm down and tell me you're not hurt anywhere else. Please."
"I'm okay." she admitted, seeing Jay's body relax a little and he sighed in relief, running a hand over his face. "I'm just a little sore from the impact. The car is worse."
"Stop talking about the damn car or I swear I'll take it to the scrap yard to be destroyed. I can buy another car or live without it, but I can't live without you. God, Y/n when I saw your face all hurt I thought I was going to have a heart attack."
"I'm sorry…"
"No more apologizing." Jay was quick to order, giving her a stern look, but nothing hid the concern and love that was evident in his eyes. "Why didn't you call me? Did you go to the hospital? What did they say?"
"I didn't go to the hospital. The paramedics saw me there and said everything was fine."
Jay didn't answer her, suddenly getting up and going straight to his cell phone. His jaw was clenched and he looked like he was ready to have another mini heart attack.
"Who are you calling? Please don't bother Will just so he can come here and see how I'm doing. I'm fine, I promise."
"Either Will comes here or we go to the hospital. There's no room for discussion."
Y/n looked down shyly, knowing she wasn't going to win this argument. So, she waited for Jay to finish her call, definitely dramatizing her situation to Will.
When he hung up, he sat down next to her on the couch and brought her into his arms again. Jay squeezed her, needing to calm down and reassure him that she was relatively okay and safe. He placed his face on her neck, breathing in her perfume, which gave him an immediate comfort.
"Why didn't you call me?" he murmured, his voice breaking. He had never felt so worried as he did at that moment. He wouldn't be able to live if something had happened to his girlfriend. She was the one. The love of her life.
"I didn't want to bother you. You were working."
"Y/n, you can never bother me. Please, call me when something happens. I don't care if it's for the simplest reason, call me. I need to know that you're okay. I would never be able to forgive myself if something bothered you happened and I didn't know anything about it."
"I will. Again, I'm really sor—"
Y/n couldn't finish speaking when Jay's lips were on hers, kissing her fervently. He put all the love he felt for her into that kiss, one hand behind her head and the other on her unhurt cheek. Y/n responded to her kiss, placing her hands on his broad shoulders and pulling him closer.
Hesitantly, they broke the kiss so they could breathe. Their faces were so close that they could feel each other's breaths. Y/n snuggled closer to him, loving the feeling of security that only Jay could give her.
"I love you." Jay admitted in a low voice, not wanting to break the comfortable silence. He was looking into Y/n's eyes intensely, showing how true those words were.
Y/n's eyebrows rose upon hearing her boyfriend's confession. It was the first time Jay had said that to her. Her stomach filled with butterflies and a big smile appeared on her face, which calmed the detective's nerves. "I love you."
"God, I love you so much, baby." Jay kissed her again, his hands moving down to her waist.
However, their little make-out session was interrupted by a doorbell. Jay went to open the door, his lips slightly swollen and a smile on his face. However, he returned to his worried state when the doctor started treating Y/n.
His brother was under Jay's attentive gaze, analyzing everything the redhead did with crossed arms. When Will touched Y/n's bruised cheek and she flinched, the detective stepped forward and glared at his brother. "Careful."
Will gave him a look over his shoulder as if saying I'm the doctor here, but didn't open his mouth. Jay was stressed and Will didn't blame him, he knew how much his younger brother liked this girl. He had even told her about asking her to marry him with his mother's ring.
"I think everything is fine apart from that cut, which doesn't need stitches, and ice the bruise. Hmm, the pressure is still a little high. Has anything happened that could have stressed you even more apart from the accident?" Will asked in doctor mode.
"Uhm…" Y/n hesitated, looking shyly at Jay. "Well, let's just say the other driver wasn't too happy about me hitting his car. He was a little scary."
The silence that formed was horrible. Will cringed, knowing that Jay was going to completely flip out. He was already a nervous wreck, and this was only going to make his mood and worry worse. As expected by both, the detective let out a series of curse words, taking his hands to his hair and pulling it. He closed his eyes and clenched his wrists, trying to control himself. At that moment, he needed to comfort his girlfriend and then he would deal with the man who scared her.
"You know the car's registration number, right?" Jay asked her when he calmed down slightly. He sat on the couch, pulling Y/n onto his lap, feeling the need to always be touching her. Y/n nodded. "Good. I'll deal with him later."
"Well, it looks like my work here is done. Y/n, ice your cheek and disinfect the cut. If you feel any discomfort or pain, don't hesitate to call me."
"You sure she doesn't need to go to the hospital, Will?" Jay kissed Y/n's neck, feeling her snuggle closer to him and closing her eyes as she yawned.
"Nothing seems wrong. She just needs to rest and recover."
"Okay. Thanks, man."
"Thank you, Will." the girl opened her eyes and smiled slightly. Then she turned to Jay who instead of making an effort to get up, tightened his arms around her. "Aren't you going to accompany your brother out?"
"He knows the way out." he muttered. Will rolled his eyes, but smiled at the couple and left. He knew Jay would never let Y/n out of his sight again.
Jay kept tracing her cheek lovingly, which was making Y/n sleepy. "Are you tired, baby?"
"Yeah."
"Go to sleep. I'm going to take the week off and I will also call your boss saying you won't be going to work until you get better." Jay said, kissing her forehead.
"That's not necessary. I feel fine." Y/n tried to argue.
"It won't work, Y/n. You're going to stay at home and rest so I can take care of you. I need to know you are safe and okay. And the only way to know that is to have you in my arms. I'll never let you go."
"I kind of like that idea." she chuckled.
"Good." he said, continuing to soothe her into unconsciousness. When he felt Y/n's breathing calm down, indicating that she was asleep, Jay pulled out his phone, calling Voight. "I need you to research the owner of a vehicle. Find what you can to get him arrested, parking tickets, speed limits, I don't care. He scared my girl."
"You got it, Jay. Take care of Y/n."
"I will. Bye." he hung up and focused his attention on his girlfriend again. She was so perfect. "I love you, baby. So much."
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ninety-two-bees · 20 hours
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happy birthday, james potter
jegulus microfic | 861 words | age gap + parenting au
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Regulus has never baked a cake before, and he’s not sure why he believed today would be the perfect day to learn. There are already a handful of failed attempts scattered across James’ kitchen. Some of them are…edible, but none of them are perfect. James deserves perfect on his birthday.
Technically Regulus isn’t supposed to be here at all. He’s supposed to be in class while James is at the museum with Harry, but taking one day off to treat his boyfriend on his birthday can’t do any harm, right? The countertops are almost entirely hidden by spilled ingredients and empty packages, but he finds space and perches on the counter with a mixing bowl in his arms.
The last batter was too thick, and this one seems suspiciously too runny, but he has no idea how to fix it. He even went as far as to call Barty and Evan, then Remus and Sirius—all of whom were entirely unhelpful. And now James’ kitchen is a mess.
Before he has a chance to put the next batch of cake mix in the oven, or even think about cleaning up, he hears the front door open and freezes in place. James is home.
Harry makes it to the kitchen first, walking right up to where Regulus is sitting and staring up with that wide bug-eyed stare Regulus has gotten so used to in the past year.
“Hi, buddy. Where’s your dad?” he asks, climbing off the countertop and swapping the mixing bowl out to pick Harry up instead. When Harry points over Regulus’ shoulder, he freezes up all over again.
“Please don’t be mad,” he begs softly, not daring to turn around to face James. His boyfriend has never been angry with him before, but there’s a first time for everything, right? And knowing Regulus’ luck, he has probably ruined James’ entire birthday.
James doesn’t say anything, but only a moment passes before Regulus feels familiar arms around his waist and a comforting chest against his back. He leans into James’ embrace instantly, struggling to fight off a smile as Harry wraps his arms around him too. This is his favourite place to be—in the arms of his family.
“Why would I be mad, baby?” James mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of Regulus’ head. “You made cake!”
“I made a mess,” Regulus points out with a soft laugh.
One of the agreements within their relationship is that Regulus isn’t allowed to spend money on James until he finishes his degree and goes back to working full-time. It’s done wonders for the health of the bond between them, but Regulus still wanted to offer James something as a gift.
“Harry has made worse messes with much less time. We can clean it up together,” James insists. He lets go of Regulus as Regulus lowers Harry to the ground, and the two of them—three, if he counts Harry “helping”—make quick work of the baking disaster.
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Hours pass, all of which Regulus spends no more than a few feet away from James. They decorate the house together for his birthday, drop Harry off with his grandparents for the night, and kill the last bit of time before the party breaking in James’ new mattress.
“You really are getting old, you know.” Regulus has taken to straddling James’ lap on the living room couch despite the dozens of party guests around them. No matter how popular James is, Regulus knows he will always be at the centre of his boyfriend’s world. It’s as if the rest of the party doesn’t exist.
“I’m still a couple of years off forty! I’ve still got some youth left in me,” James argues. “And in fifteen years, when you’re this age, you’ll be saying the exact same thing.”
With laughter spilling from his lips, Regulus drops his head onto James’ chest, allowing James to wrap his arms around him in a warm embrace. If anyone is judging them for the blatant PDA, they don’t say anything
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you anything for your birthday,” he mumbles against James’ neck, eyes fluttering shut as James’ fingers trail up and down the length of his spine.
They had to throw out all of the cakes Regulus attempted to make, and ended up buying one at the nearest supermarket instead. James had insisted that it’s the thought that counts, but Regulus still wishes he had done more.
“There is…one thing you could give me, but it’s entirely up to you.” Regulus lifts his head again, gazing at James with intense curiosity. “Move in with me.”
A moment passes between them, and Regulus is certain his heart beats twice as fast as it ever has before.
“You really mean it?” he whispers, voice laced with trembling disbelief.
“I really mean it,” James promises.
Another moment passes. And then; “Absolutely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
One of James’ hands comes up to hold the back of Regulus’ head, and then they’re kissing. It must look as intense as it feels, because someone whistles and a few people laugh just before they pull apart, breathless.
“Happy birthday, Jamie.”
this microfic is based on james and regulus in be good to me (i beg of him) because i missed them <3
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I do NOT think it's fair for Zutara shippers to hate Zukka for a chunk of the fandom popularizing bad tropes and being mean-spirited like sorry not sorry but you're calling EVERY Zukka shipper misogynistic racists and queerphobes as if you're not the ones who came up with 'Fire Lady Katara' and 'Momtara x Dadko' and mocked Aang for trying to emphasize with Katara's mom dying with her by comparing it to him and Appa being the only living beings from what happened to the Air Nomads and call him all sorts of vile appalling shit that should NEVER be said about a fucking 12 year old because he's feminine and silly and not the perfect love interest 24/7 and takes pride in his tibetan heritage AND stripped Katara of all her accomplishments and nonconformity and layers and anarchism because you see her as worthless if she's not Zuko's arm candy while also making degrading comments about her sex life because she had kids with a guy you don't like with added anti-biracial kids propaganda as a bonus AND are so unsympathetic to Mai because she's Zuko but a girl so you're not into her that you unironically think she's a wench plus don't even actually care about Mailee seeing as it has way more evidence than Zutara on every level yet you only see them as a sidedish to prove you don't hate women AND even Zuko dosen't get speared because mans deadass ended the series with everything he'd ever wanted INCLUDING being a better dad than Ozai was to him to AANG but none of it matters apperantly because he choose what was best for himself after 16 years straight of abuse instead of some random ass crush you THINK he had for not even technically a year.You do NOT get to talk shit about Zukka stans,they're just a normal noncanon mlm ship fanbase with a small side of bad eggs,Zutaras are an entire rotten eggs ile from a supermarket that's been abandoned for almost 20 years because it never actually opened but old people who complain about 'kids these days' keep thinking it'll open one day despite it being announced a million times it never would and saying it's elder abuse in response
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daisydoesfanfics · 1 day
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|Simple Things|
Neuvillette x fem!reader
Description: A domestic lifestyle is not something Neuvillette imagined himself to have, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.
Genre: Romance & fluff
Warnings: None (lowercase intended)
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the chief justice is a well-known figure, not only amongst those who live fontaine, but also internationally. he holds a reputation that he is quite proud of, especially since everyone sees him as an honest and reliable man. the name "neuvillette" never falls on deaf ears, instead turning heads rather quickly. neuvillette had always prioritized his job and his duty to protect his nation- nothing will change that. but that doesn't mean he does not have other desires or responsibilities.
because admist the quiet neighborhood, in the comfort of his home lives two people who hold a special place in the iudex's heart. his wife and his daughter, his two angels. he does everything in his power to come home at exactly 6:00 p.m. every night. the thought of seeing his beloved girls' smiles greeting him as he walks through the door is something he always looks forward to.
today is no different. he had finished his work early tonight and decided to surprise you and his daughter. he stopped by at the nearby cafe, picking up cinnamon rolls for you, a muffin for his little girl, and a slice of cake for himself. he pays for the sweets and bids the young girl at the counter a polite 'goodbye' as he exits the store and hurriedly walks home.
as he gets to the porch of your house, he reaches into his pocket, grabbing his keys and carefully unlocking the door. the moment he enters, the smell of dinner being made and the sound of laughter fills his senses. he smiles softly to himself as he hears his daughter's muffled voice. "honey, i'm home!" he calls out, walking over to the kitchen where he catches you singing a sweet tune to your daughter, her eyes sparkling up at you. neuvillette sneaks up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he presses a kiss on the side of your head. "hello, love." you turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a quick kiss. his smiles against your lips, his hands giving your waist a slight squeeze.
the moment was interrupted as your daughter lets out a loud sound of disgust, making the both of you laugh and pull away from each other. neuvillette lets go of his hold on you, walking over to the cheeky girl who sat on the kitchen counter. he effortlessly picked her up in his arms, giving her forehead a little peck. "fleur missed you a lot. she kept asking when you were coming home." you chuckled. "did she now?" he asked in a teasing tone. fleur nodded, giggling as she nuzzled her head into her father's chest. "i missed you too. both of you." neuvillette's voice was soft and tender, full of love. he turned to look at you, admiring the simple way you stirred the soup. something about the way you moved seemed so enchanting to him. you placed the ladle down, striding towards them. "i'm glad you're home." you whispered, staring into neuvillette's eyes. he moved fleur into his left arm, using his right to hold you by your shoulders, gently pulling you into an embrace.
no one saw this side of neuvillette. and he'd rather keep it that way. not because he was ashamed, but because only his family could make him feel this way. his life has been full of stress, hundreds of years of judgement. but when he's in your arms, everything seems to fade away. he never understood the way humans lived their lives. now he knows, and he also knows that there's no place he'd rather be than at home. he's aware of the fact that he'd outlive the both of you, eventually losing you both. so for now, as much as possible, he tries to live every minute to its fullest. and no matter how old he gets, his family will remain in his memories for eternity.
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A/N: Hi, yes I'm still alive and thriving. I have no idea why the end became slightly angsty tbh. And this is a bit short but I'm just indulging in my current Neuvillette fixation. This was also not proofread so sorry about that. I missed writing so much honestly. Quick side note, idk if dragons can have children with humans but let's just say they can☺️
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mxmmyprentiss · 11 hours
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Bad Mom
Summary: Emily has always been better at this mom thing than you are. Sometimes, you actually envy her for how good she is at it. She was a natural while you’re a disaster. And maybe your daughter knew that. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: none Word count: 1.6K
A/N: Just some little fluff piece I wrote to get back to writing. It's not proofread so forgive me for mistakes and errors. Likes, comments and shares are welcome. Enjoy! :)
AO3
You and Emily Prentiss have been married for over five years now. You dated for two years prior to your marriage. And in those years that you’ve been together, both of you have gone through ups and downs together. Emily has never left you to deal with your problems alone.
Except today.
And that problem was your 3-year-old daughter having temper tantrums at breakfast.
“I don’ wike t’is!” Eleanor, your daughter, slammed her tiny hands on the dining table. She was clearly furious at you for trying to feed her vegetables instead of her requested chocolate cereals.
In your defense, it’s all she wanted to eat lately and you just didn’t want her to be diabetic early (or at all). 
“Ellie, please. This is yummy and healthy, baby. You can have cereal again tomorrow.”
Ellie shook her head and continued slamming the table. Her face was flushed from yelling and arguing with you for the past ten minutes or so. “No, mama! Ce-yals today!”
You sighed weakly. Ellie was such a good, easy  kid most of the time but can be a real pain in the ass when she wants to be. And in those times, only your wife can get through her stubbornness. After all, she is Emily’s daughter too.
“Mommy will be mad. Do you want mommy to be mad?”
“Mommy not he’e!” She pouted.
“I know, but she will be mad once she finds out you’re giving Mama a hard time.”
Ellie folded her arms to her chest and displayed a sulky pout. “I wan’ mommy!” She fiercely yelled at you. “I wan’ mommy he’e!”
“I want mommy here too, baby, but she is fighting bad guys and she will come back to us soon.” You tried to offer her another spoonful of mashed vegetables. To your surprise, Ellie grabbed the spoon and tossed it to the floor. “Eleanor Prentiss!”
“Mama bad! Bad!” Ellie screamed before storming off to the living room and played with her puzzles.
Your eyes fell to the mess your daughter made on the table and the floor.
God, you wish she was here. Emily has always been better at this mom thing than you are. Sometimes, you actually envy her for how good she is at it. She was a natural while you’re a disaster. And maybe your daughter knew that.
After cleaning up the mess, you gave up and fed her cereals instead. It’s still better than Ellie not eating anything at all.
Your phone buzzed and it was from your wife.
Emily: Hey, babe. Just got back from Chicago. How are you and Ellie?
You: Ellie and I are enemies at the moment. She’s not eating her veggies and she’s asking for you.
Emily: I’ll be home in 30. Just have to finish this last paperwork then I’m out.
You: See you later, babe. I love you.
Emily: I love you too and that little self-willed kid of ours.
You have no doubt about that. In all the years that you’ve known each other, not once did Emily make you feel that you didn’t matter to her. Even when she had to leave you for days or weeks to travel to different states for her job. She never made you feel that her job was a priority over you; it’s just something she had to do. Emily would call you every night to check on you. Most times she would have food delivered at your door or at your workplace so she’s sure that you’d eaten. And when your wife comes home to you, a bouquet of hydrangea - your favorite flower - would be found on your bedside table.
But when you and Emily decided to adopt Eleanor three years ago, everything changed.
Emily was just promoted as BAU unit chief six months before Ellie’s adoption while you stayed home for a while to take care of your newborn. Your wife managed to spend less hours in the office and made a strict rule to not be interrupted during her off days. During some of these days, you would caught her teaching Ellie different languages and the then two-year-old girl was just staring at her wide-eyed.
Your wife had made sure to spend her annual leaves with you and Ellie. Emily would take you and Ellie to Disneyland and other theme parks she researched about. She would never bring her family to places she deemed unsafe and family unfriendly, especially places the BAU has worked abduction cases with. 
Long story short, the change in your routine was all for the better.
Emily is a great mother, the best even. And she is just as great as your wife.
The problem lied with you though. You can’t seem to get through to your daughter like Emily did. It feels as if Ellie didn’t like you, or just liked her other mother better. Of course, you still loved that kid to death and you would do anything for her. But sometimes, at times like this one, it feels like you’re a failure of a mother to her.
Ellie was still ignoring you and your attempts to play with her. If you had a bingo card of her mama no’s, you would have won by now.
Maybe your daughter hated you.
You settled on watching your daughter have a tea party with her stuffed animals. Her dark curls tangled with the golden plastic crown she wore and her dark brown eyes focused on her white bunny. She was doing her best in re-telling them the bedtime story you told her last night.
The front door opened and Emily entered the living room, holding a big bouquet of pink and lavender hydrangeas and a tiny bouquet of white lilies.
“Queen Emily has arrived!” Emily announced, referencing the last story she told Ellie the night before she left for the case. “How’s my lovely sunshines?”
“Mommy!” Ellie exclaimed and ran to Emily. The little girl tightly hugged her mother’s leg. “Miss you, mommy!”
“Aww, I missed you too, sweet cheeks.” Emily knelt down to kiss her daughter’s cheek. She handed her the small bouquet. “This is for you, baby girl.”
Ellie jumped in joy and hugged Emily. “Thanks, mommy! They pwetty!”
“Yes, they are. Just like you, little one.” Emily playfully pinched her nose. When Ellie ran back to her tea party - boasting to everyone about the pretty flowers that her mother got her - Emily turned to you. “Hi, beautiful.”
“Please, I’m a mess.” You said, smiling faintly.
“Oh, you could be wearing a trash bag and I’d still find you the most beautiful woman on the entire planet.” You couldn’t help the blush that crept on your cheeks. Damn, this woman. Emily planted a kiss on your lips then handed you your bouquet. “This is for the best wife and mom in the world.”
You gratefully accept her gift. “Best wife? Yes. Best mother? Hmm, you’ll have to ask Ellie that.” You kissed Emily’s nose. “Your daughter hates me.”
“Our daughter,” Emily corrected you, slightly offended that you would ever say otherwise. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s just a stubborn little girl.”
“Wonder who she got that from.” You teased, earning an eye roll from your wife. “I made breakfast for you in the kitchen. You should eat.”
“Best.” Emily pecked your lips. “Wife.” And another peck. “Ever.” And another.
“I better be ‘cause I’d be the only one you’re getting for the rest of your life.” A smirk formed at your lips.
“One and only, babe.” Emily winked at you.
You and Emily spent the entire day playing with your daughter - having tea parties, dressing up her barbies, Emily making up silly stories about your family running an entire kingdom of stuffed animals. Eventually, your wife made sure that Ellie eats the mashed vegetables you prepared for her, proving only a stubborn could get past another stubborn.
Later that night, you and Emily tucked your daughter in. Emily was carefully brushing her hair while you set up her starry night light. Like most kids her age, Ellie didn’t like sleeping in the dark.
Ellie looked up to you. “Mama, pwease tell me ‘nother stowy?”
Your eyes met Emily’s. She smiled softly and nodded at you to go along with your daughter’s request.
You’re about to grab a book from Ellie’s cabinet when she stops you. “Don’ wan’ books. Wan’ mama and mommy stowy.”
“Our story?” Emily clarified. Little Ellie nodded. “Oh, mama, she wants to know our story.”
“I’m telling this one because we cannot trust mommy to tell the whole story, right?” You giggled as you tickled your daughter. “Okay, where do we start, hmm?”
“Start when you saw me across the room and fell in love with me.”
“I think that was the other way around, honey.”
“Touché.” Emily carried Ellie on her lap and hugged her. “Mama’s just so pretty that mommy cannot help but fall in love with her.”
Ellie giggled. “Mama pwetty!”
“That’s right, she is.” Emily smirked. “Mommy’s lucky.”
“Mommy, you pwetty too!”
You grinned. “She is. And you are our pretty little baby, Ellie.” You leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I love you so much.”
Ellie reached out and hugged your neck. “Wuv you, mama.” She planted a kiss on your cheek. “Sowwy I stubbo’n ‘bout veggies.”
Your heart swelled with love for your daughter. Emily squeezed your hand when she noticed the tears pooling in your eyes. “It’s alright, honey.” You said.
After telling your daughter more of how her mothers met, with a little too much protests from your wife about the inconsistencies about your story, Ellie eventually fell asleep hugging her stuffed giraffe.
“I told you she doesn’t hate you.” Emily spoke once you’re both in your bed, snuggling from behind and wrapping her arms around you. She planted a kiss on your exposed shoulder. “Don’t ever think that you’re a bad mom. Ellie is lucky to have you, and so am I.”
You didn’t say anything. Instead, you relaxed in your wife’s embrace.
And you believe her.
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literallyangeldust · 2 days
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Can you maybe do platonic Charlie with a male reader who sees her as a big sister.
જ⁀➴ Sisterly! Charlie x male reader (platonic!!) ๋࣭ ⭑
you see charlie as a big sister! <;3
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D
๋࣭ ⭑ TW: none!
๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 469
๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 8
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You and Charlie were sitting covered in glitter and various other things. You were making some posters to promote the hotel. You had already knocked out a few but you couldn't help but think Charlie was stressed. Given the whole battle and everything that has happened it made sense for everyone to be a bit stressed. The new hotel design was nice but definitely different. It also was much different with Lucifer living at the hotel full time for now. Charlie let out a groan and you looked questioningly at her. “What's wrong?” you ask and she looks at you before fidgeting with her hands.
“It's just… what if the hotel doesn't work after all?” you just smile and place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure it will work! We just have to have faith.” Charlie smiles and nods. “Yeah! We just need to think positively!” She goes back to happily working on the posters. You smile as you look over and notice Vaggie walking over. “What's going on over here? Everything is working out okay?” you nod to Vaggie. “Yup! We're doing fine! Wanna join?” you say and Charlie perks up and looks at Vaggie. “Yeah! You should make a couple posters!” then she lets out a gasp. “Oh my gosh this could be an exercise! I gotta go get the others!” She stands up and goes to grab the other residents as Vaggie takes a seat on the couch. “Welp guess this is a group activity now.” you pout slightly and sigh. “I was kind of enjoying spending time with just Charlie. I'm also terrified for Angel to make a poster.” you say grimacing at the idea.
Vaggie chuckles with a small smile. “Yeah that sounds like a terrible idea.” Soon Charlie comes back with Angel, Husk and Niffty. Alastor wasn't there which wasn't surprising, he doesn't seem like the glitter and crayons type. “Alright! We got everybody!” she smiles and plops back down on the chair. “What about Luci?” you ask and Charlie just says “He went out this morning and hasn't got back.” Charlie then begins explaining everything to them. Everybody doesn't seem too thrilled except maybe Niffty, who had already begun throwing glitter at the paper and grabbed a bug from the ground and glued it to the paper as well. Soon everybody began working knowing Charlie wouldn't let them out of this.
After everyone had finished their creations just had you suspected Angels was very sexual. This was very chaotic indeed. But after all of that you go put your and Charlie's poster up (and Nifftys after she insisted it would be great to have people see her bug killing skills). Hopefully this gets more people to come and get redeemed. If it works, which you hope for everybody's sake it does.
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just a small drabble! I actually love charlie shes such a sweetheart!
notes are appreciated!! d(・∀・)b
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katakaluptastrophy · 3 days
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i feel like g1deon would probably have a good deal of body dysmorphia post-resurrection (though i do think that the more unflattering descriptions of him came from gideon, a lesbian who's textually grossed out by muscular men), because of the ...Everything in the way jod brought him back
The way Jod talks about modifying G-'s memory is particularly horrifying:
And my loved ones … The ones I left, I’ll bring back. I know I can. Even G—. In fact, G—’ll be easiest—he won’t remember the compound—none of them will have to remember anything. I know where remembrance lives in the brain, and he won’t have any of it. You know that too, don’t you? It’s the easiest thing in the world … to forget.”
The idea of what the original disciples can remember - or the ghosts of memories that don't quite come to the surface but still haunt them in some way is so horrifying.
I assume Jod induces some kind of retrograde amnesia, knocking out huge swathes of memory but leaving abilities and personality intact.
Even those who weren't regrown from an arm must have struggled with the incongruity between whatever memories of appearance their mind still had, or didn't quite have - something jarringly off in lost years. And that's assuming Jod didn't just make any modifications on a whimsy. (Is Mercy a strawberry blond described by a teenager who's never seen that in real life before or did Jod give her anime hair for funsies?)
But poor G1deon didn't just look older or younger or have different hair. Presumably all of the necros found something unsettling about how the new shape of their bodies sat with some inaccessible sense of self, but G1deon was at best an attempt by Jod to give him a muscular physique when the necromantic body simply can't usually sustain that (was he built before? Did the incongruity of the muscles without fat even when well hydrated sit wrongly in his mind? Or had he aspired to be but never was - was John trying to be nice in a horribly macabre way?) and at worst a shoddy job that might have felt dysmorphic even by comparison to others, let alone from half-submerged memories of self.
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soxcietyy · 3 days
Text
Temptation
Chapter 4
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Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint
Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)
" Yu!! You won’t believe what I got at the store today!" You shout as you look for him around the house.
He could believe what you got because he was right there with you! He would have sent a guard to watch you but he couldn’t have you thinking something was wrong right off the bat. He had to pretend to live a normal like for the meantime. At least when you guys are married you wouldn’t be able to run so easily.
The second he got in the house he sped walk into his office. It seemed to be his only safe spot from you because you knew you weren’t allowed in there. He couldn’t handle another "what I got for my wedding haul". You did this every day and he felt like he was about to start throwing things. He didn’t know having a woman in his home would be this hard.
The other girl before you was more quiet, scared, and did everything he asked of her but you were the opposite. Every time you entered a room it’s as if the dark and lonely atmosphere vanished and transformed into happiness. He wasn’t used to this type of thing. He just slept with woman and threw them onto the streets right after. He never thought about marriage until now because his cousin talked him into this.
"Yuta, this business is all about family. About caring for one another and helping each other out. You’re too harsh on our people. You don’t even consider them family, it always more like "your men"" Gojo holds a cigar in his finger as he admired the fat object. He sat in his abnormally big office with a huge grin on his face. He never failed to wear it no matter the situation.
"I’m just not a family type of guy." Yuta leans back into the chair he sat in.
Gojo has been nagging him about the same thing over and over. All of this because Yuta always decides to resolve situations with violence instead of terms. His cousin swears up and down that getting a woman would soften him up more and if he got kids it would be even better.
So he sent him down south to a middle class area. He gave him the address to a church so he could find himself a good girl with morals and values.
"Yuta dinner is almost ready! Hurry up so we can say grace before the food gets cold!" You yell to grab his attention.
Unfortunately it seems like he got a girl with too strong of morals and values. Letting a heavy sigh out he stands up to leave. How do normal people do this? How does his cousin get with so many girls if they all act somewhat like this?
Maybe asking for advice wouldn’t hurt but his ego would be scratched. Would he rather get help from his lovely friend Hakari who will most likely make fun of him? Or should he just learn how to deal with you. He contemplated last week to call him after the bathroom situation but he thought it was too soon. Now though he felt like it was needed so he could keep his sanity.
Grabbing the phone he drags the rotary dial to the numbers. He waited a few minutes as it rang, immediately being connected his his friend.
"Hello?" Hakari speaks.
"Come over for dinner, also bring Kirara."
"What? Is there an emergency?!" He ask concerned.
"No, but I need to drink and I can’t even leave the house unless it’s an emergency. I just can’t be alone right now with her." Yuta says before hanging up.
He’s been around women a good amount of times but seeing you walk around in your tiny tight clothes made him feel a type of way.
"Sweetheart we’re having guest over for dinner." Yuta says as he turns the corner to see you in a small slim dress. Your behind and breast protruding beautifully under those cloths.
Yes you were annoying time by time but he couldn’t resist looking at you when you dressed that way. He found himself turning around to avoid looking at you so he could control himself. He just wanted to rip that dress off and have his way with you. He wanted you under him so he could see if that smile you always wore would fall off. Fuck, why was he acting like a horny teenage boy? He’s slept around with a dozen girls so why were you so different? What made him want you this bad when he basically already had you? Was is because you were playing hard to get? Because he was restricted to only look at you?
"Visitors at this hour?" You say
Turning around to look at you he sees you taking something out the oven. Though when you did you bent over and he could see everything you had under there. Quickly turning back around he grips onto the chair in front of him. He must wait a two more weeks.
"Yes darling, why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed into something more modest." Yuta says as he takes the chicken out of your hands.
Running up stairs you scurry to get ready leaving him to his thoughts once again.
He needed to talk to Hakari about the recent negotiations with the police. They’ve been acting a bit weird lately. It might be time to give them a new bribe. The only reason they been able to get away with lots of things was because they were in good terms with the police. They couldn’t just let their relationship collapse like that. Maybe it was time to work the the Zenin too. They had a huge influence with the police and own half of the station somehow. The Gojo family was in tight cahoots with them because of past situations. They might have to put differences aside if Satoru wanted this mission to get done.
Hakari got here in no time. He arrived in a casual suite and his lovely significant other in a casual dress. Letting them inside he grabbed Hakari by the arm pulling him back. He needed to talk to him before dinner so he wouldn’t throw it up later.
"We need to have a serious discussion about Heart." Yuta whispered in his ear.
Hakari rolled his eyes and waved Kirara off.
"Can it be after dinner? I can already smell the food from here and I’m starving." Hakari said with a long face.
Yuta glares at him for saying such a thing. He nodded him to the direction of his office. With a loud sigh Hakari began walking towards the double door. He wasn’t much of a thinker but he knew how to get the job done. If you ever need to get on someone, always bet on him.
"Boys arnt you guys going to eat?! The food is going to get cold!" You say stopping them from taking a further step.
Hakari turn around with a smile on his face. "Of course Ms-"
"Darling we’re kind of in the middle of something. How about later?" Yuta tried to shoo you away.
You stood by the entrance of the dinning room with your arms crossed. "Absolutely not Yu, Hakari is it? You must be hungry. Come on and eat I made such a delicious roasted chicken."
"Sorry Okkotsu but I won’t deny the your soon to be bride." Hakari laughed as he walked into the other room.
Yutas left eye twitched in what he didn’t know was anger or annoyance. He dragged his hand down his face before walking into the dinning room. As he entered he could see that the guest had made them selfs comfortable. Their eyes glued to all the dishes you were setting down. The chicken, bread, corn, mashed potatoes, and more. Ever since you got here you liked to spend most of your time cooking. You liked to try new recipes and make them all at once.
Yuta sat down at his usual seat and watched you serve his food for him. He couldn’t lie your cooking was so good. Sometimes when you irritate him really badly you’ll serve him dessert and his mood would change entirely.
Putting his plate infront of him you serve everyone else and finally take your seat. Yuta watched as Hakari grabbed his fork and was about to dig in. Yuta gave him a harsh kick in the shin making his friend drop his fork back down. He did this for revenge and because he knew what you were about to do.
"Alright guys let’s give grace!" You say as you hold your hands out.
Kirara gladly accepts your hands and gets ahold of Hakari. Yuta hesitate but grabbed Hakaris because why I’m the world would he want to hold his hand.
"Alright Yu it’s your turn." You say smiling at him.
"Lord god, heavily father, bless us and these thy gifts-" when Yuta finished he quickly lets go of Hakari’s hand. Though he planted a kiss on yours and thanked you for making such a wonderful meal for everyone.
As everyone ate Yutas temper seemed to have vanished. Maybe he was just hungry and needed to eat a bit. Everytime he took a bite of his food he was reminded why he hasn’t made his men kill you. He could always make it seem like a accident and look for a new bride. But you were special some how.
When everyone was done Yuta excuses his self and dragged Hakari into his office. He made sure the door was shut before grabbing two glass cups and a bottle of whiskey. Setting them down In front of Hakari, he took his seat and rested his elbows on the desk.
"You know about the Heart situation, it’s getting more dangerous." Yuta says. "Ever since he’s been all friendly with the mayor things have gotten harder for us to transport. Iv gotten reports about him being in my territory. Not only that but he’s been in yours multiple times." Yuta continues. "Why do you think he’s snooping around?"
"It’s kind of obvious he’s going to rob some of our production. Wait why don’t I know anything about him being in my area?" Hakari raises his brow.
If Yuta had to differentiate the two groups he would simply put it on the perspective of professionalism. Hakari was more in the underground side of the mafia. He hired hooligans and people with bad reputation. He didn’t care much about getting caught because nobody knows how he looks. Not even his own men knew unless they were his right side but that would have to be Kirara. Yuta on the other hand was the face of the organization. Also he had a role in the Gojo franchise. He had to keep his image clean but be good at his job at the same time. His people were made up of big politicians, lawyers, and anyone who owed the company even a penny. All they had to do was sign a contract saying that they’ll be given what they want but in return they will need to present their loyalty to them.
"Maybe you need to keep your men in check. Do you know how many things slip under your radar? You need to keep an eye out or we’ll be fucked. What’s going to happen when you’re dead? Who’s going to run your group? You don’t even have a heir for down the line." Yuta says trying to help his friend open his eyes.
"You don’t have one either? Trust me I have this all under control. Hey let’s just invite the don’ Zenin to your wedding. Let’s shape a good friendship with him." Hakari takes the top off the glass bottle.
"I’m getting married to have a heir and because Saturo told me to get one. Also don’t let that name slip out if your mouth again. He doesn’t go by Zenin, it’s don Fushiguro." Yuta watches as Hakari pours an even amount of liquid into both glasses.
"Your stressing too much man, I know your nervous about your wedding. You’ll do great trust me. Speaking of it seems you have found someone who won’t back down easily." Hakari snickers.
"Nothing a little teaching and discipline can’t do. I’ll have her acting like she should be in no time. The only reason I’m letting it slide for now is so she’ll have no problem getting married."
The phone starting ringing making them both turn towards that direction. Picking up the phone Yuta waits for them to speak first.
"Hello? Is the Yuta Okkotsu?" A woman spoke.
"Yes, who is this?" Yuta shrugs at Hakari who was trying to listen in.
"I need a favor from you and was wondering if I could make an appointment with you?" She said.
"Why of course you can, how about tomorrow morning."
"No I need to do it now please, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it tomorrow." Her voice cracked at the end.
"Yea come on over, my address is-"
Hakari sat in the chair with his arms folded. "Wasn’t this supposed to be a guys night? We’re talking about business here. You need to keep ya clients in check, they walking over you."
Yuta put the phone down and took a sip of his drink. He could feel it running down his throat. "Don’t tell me how to run my business. Get your gun ready."
Usually the ones that run in late come looking for trouble. Last time someone tried to ambush him but luckily his men were on stand by. Tonight he was on his own with Hakari. The house would usually be buzzing. People running in and out and guards would be posted up. They had to go away for the time being. The second the wedding was over they would be back in business. He saw how you acted when he had his men in the back of the car, couldn’t have that again.
Walking out the office Hakari pulled Kirara to the side and whispered into their ear. She gave him a firm nod and ran to grab you from the living room. From the looks of it you seemed to be showing her the wedding plans.
"Girls why don’t you go upstairs in the room. I’ll bring you some tea and …" he turns to look at Hakari who looks at him confused. "Some pastries?"
"Oh Yu that would be wonderful!" You look at him with thoes big doe eyes.
Yuta smiled as you and Kirara walked upstairs. He waited till he saw you guys shut the door to drop the act. Walking to a table that held a big vase he reached his hand under it and pulled a gun out. Hakari pulled his out from his fat coat and loaded it up. The both of them sat in the living room watching the time go by until there was a nock at the door.
Hakari informed Yuta that he made sure Kirara would keep you in no matter what. That lifted some sort of pressure he had on his chest.
The both of them walked to the door and opened it. Outside stood a petite woman with blonde hair in a bob. Her green eyes glistened with tears and her pink lips quivered. Yuta couldn’t believe his eyes, the person who stood in front of them was no other than Ms.Heart.
This had to be done sick joke. Pulling his gun up he aimed it at her head. He wasn’t a fool to fall for something like this. Hakari jumped seeing Yutas action. Usually men would hesitate to kill a woman but Yuta was different.
The woman back up slowly trying to avoid the gun. "Please Don Yuta listen to me, I have an urgent request." She said with a pleading look.
Yuta looked at her dead in the eye, trying to make sure this woman wasn’t deceiving him. When he had finished evaluating her he put him gun down and let her into her office. Hakari followed along pretending to be one of Yutas workers.
"How may I help you today." Yuta said dryly.
"I need you to kill my husband." She said immediately.
If Yuta were drinking he would have spat everything out. That was such a wild request especially coming from his wife. He was confused on why she would want that if she lived such a perfect life because of him. He had so many quest but kept his cool.
"Why is that?"
"He’s a stone cold murderer. Don I just connected the dots to everything. I know who he really is, I know who you are. You guys arnt just ordinary business men, you guys are people who kill for what they want."
Hakari looked nervous. He could see his forehead beginning to damp. If this is how she reacted about the truth then how were you going to react?
"Okay but I don’t understand why you want to set a hit on Hearts."
"Last night I overheard him talking in a meeting. He killed my family because my father didn’t want me to be with him. I thought they got into a freak accident! I also overheard his plans and he’s up to no good Don." She said as she started to breath heavily. "Yuta he’s going to come for you. On your wedding day he’s going t-"
With a blink of the eye she went from talking to having a bullet in the middle of her head. Her jaw went slack as her body became limp. Yuta snapped his head towards Hakari who had his hands up.
"It wasn’t me man, look." Hakari pointed at the window that now had a hole in it.
Yuta ran his hand through his hair. This was starting to get too exhausting. Just when he was about to find out everything but at least he knew were to start. "Get the girls." Grabbing the phone he dialed a number. It rung once, twice, three times until someone picked up the phone.
"Father, I hate asking for favors but you need to move the date to this week."
It didn’t take him much convincing to get everything in line. He then called a group of men by to clean up this mess. He needed to dispose of this body quickly without you seeing but he also needed you near by. Someone had just easily shot a bullet into his house. He had to keep you by his side no matter what. Walking out he finds you sitting in the living room with a concerned look.
"Oh Yu, did you hear that loud gun shot?" You said standing up.
He quickly approached you and sat you right back down. He rubbed you back trying to ease you. "It’s okay, it was just near by." He whispers.
It was absolutely not fine. It was embarrassing knowing that a fool could get so close to his property to do that. That means that people always had the opportunity to kill him in one shot. He would have to build a concrete wall rather than the bar one he had. Maybe some more plants so they could cover the house a bit. More guards on stand by to keep watch.
"I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep on my own tonight. Do you think you can sleep with me?" You say squeezing his right arm.
Maybe this situation was not so bad after all…
Yuta had sent you to help prepare the guest bedroom. Yuta had offered his friend to stay over if they like and well they were scared of getting shot at on their way home. While you occupied yourself with that he let the cleaners in. He also told them to stand guard tonight and they would receive a bonus. Since he had offered his men a month off work and managed to interrupt it.
Leaving the work to them Yuta went upstairs to find you laying in bed already. A genuine smile spread across his face when he say you laying there with an empty spot next to him. If people would of witnessed this they would of thought it was because of you he would say it was because he finally get to sleep in his bed.
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pluckyredhead · 15 hours
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ur post abt the green lantern’s political leanings was so interesting!! can you do one for the bat family? (but only if u wanna!!)
Honestly, I can't, because their politics are so incoherent.
Like, take Bruce. (And again, like with the Lanterns, I'm talking about canon here, not how I wish things were.) On the one hand, you would imagine he's pretty progressive, right? He's almost certainly a single issue voter and that single issue is gun control. He believes in rehabilitating criminals and in fact a lot of Wayne Enterprises hires are formerly incarcerated people. He is an active philanthropist who pours money into schools, orphanages, hospitals, public spaces, and the arts. These are all leftist values!
And yet the modern Batman is also a completely unrestrained violent anarchic-libertarian power fantasy. Bruce has invented his own law, which he enacts and enforces completely arbitrarily, however he feels like doing so. He obeys the laws he wants to obey and ignores the ones he doesn't care about, while insisting he is law-abiding. He tortures people literally constantly and considers it righteous. He uses the profits from his publicly traded company to become a one-man military industrial complex. (The emissions from the fucking Batmobile alone...!) He illegally surveils the entire city and sometimes the entire planet (Brother Eye, anyone?) because he has decided that his moral authority overrides literally anyone's right to privacy, anywhere. He allows his defeated foes to be locked up indefinitely regardless of their mental state in an institution that would make any qualified mental health professional run screaming in the opposite direction. He's sexist. All of these things sit on the right of the political spectrum, but imagine me pointing to the right like Charlie from It's Always Sunny pointing to his murder board.
And none of the Batfamily is any better. Some of them are honestly worse in certain aspects. Dick was a cop. Jason loves guns. Babs and Tim are even more in love with surveillance than Bruce is. Remember when Tim wanted to replace the police with, like, a Bat-army??? BECAUSE I DO.
It's not really "their fault," as much as anything can be a fictional character's fault. It's the result of being written by writers who are, for the most part, consciously trying to write the Bats as good Samaritans, but are also living in a world where we have had our brains warped by all of our blockbusters being funded by the US military, in a medium where badassery is prized above everything else, and so all this really problematic shit spills out onto the comics page without being questioned. It's also kind of a boiling frog situation: i.e. Batman has always had a cool car, so as he got tougher and tougher, of course that car would eventually become a tank, and no one stopped to go "Wait, what the fuck? What the fuck? How is this billionaire driving a tank around helping anyone???" I guess god bless Zack Snyder for inadvertently highlighting how fucking stupid and counterproductive a Batman taken to his worst extremes is.
To be clear, I don't think this is what most writers are trying to do with Batman (some of them are, but fuck those guys). But it's what happens when all you care about is rule of cool, and the more I think about it the more I'm like...shit, maybe Alan Moore was right and superheroes are just stupid.
Anyway in conclusion, comic book writers should consider the ramifications of what they're writing occasionally. But Bruce Wayne probably still votes blue, at least.
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