Austin Butler | ‘Dune: Part Two’ Premiere (2024)

RELEASEEEE MEE. REELEEAASSEE MEEEEEE.

how i look at my screen after y/n just got called kitten/puppy/bunny

I was so caught off guard like??? NO 😰

his premature death and 20 seconds of screen time have bewitched me body and soul

My favorite show is on

CHAPTER 13: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 5k

FLASHBACK

“Nova, can you h—?”

The sound of static crackled through your earpiece, cutting off the desperate voice on the other end. You winced, shielding your face as the blistering heat of the raging fire licked at your skin. The warehouse, once teeming with federal agents and your team, was now a deathtrap engulfed in flames.

This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to end.

The vital evidence you needed to bring Anthony Moretti to justice—the files, the ledgers, the weapons cache—was turning to ash before your eyes. Desperation clawed at your chest as you searched for an exit amid the chaos, flames casting long, erratic shadows across the crumbling structure.

It was hard to believe that only 24 hours ago, you were sitting across from Moretti in a high-end restaurant, the air thick with the smell of calamari and overpriced cologne. The man had smiled as you choked down bitter cocktails, blissfully unaware that you were dismantling his empire from within. Now, everything he’d built—the lives he’d destroyed, the drugs he’d sold, the blood money he’d hoarded—was being consumed by the very flames that threatened to take you with them.

You didn’t have time to mourn the loss of the evidence. Surviving came first.

A sharp, metallic crack reverberated through the air just before a sudden blow to the back of your head made your vision blur. Staggering, you barely registered the weight of a body slamming into you before you hit the ground, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Tell me who sent you, or I’ll kill you right now,” growled a familiar voice, low and venomous.

Anthony Moretti.

He was on top of you, one knee digging painfully into your ribs, a cold barrel pressed to your temple. He couldn’t see your face beneath your mask and hero uniform, but that didn’t seem to matter. His words carried the fury of a man backed into a corner, desperate and dangerous.

The flickering firelight illuminated his features—sharp lines of anger etched into his face.

You gritted your teeth, twisting your body beneath him. With a swift motion, you drove your knee into his stomach, hard enough to make him double over with a grunt of pain. As he staggered backward, clutching his abdomen, you thrust your hand forward, summoning your power.

He flew across the room, slamming into the concrete wall with a bone-jarring thud. His body stuck there, pinned as though held by invisible bonds.

You reached up and pulled off your mask, letting it fall to the scorched ground. The flickering flames illuminated your face, and you saw the confusion, the betrayal, and the anger that twisted his features even further.

“Lily?” he gasped, his expression shifting as the realization hit him. His voice was a mixture of disbelief and something that almost sounded like heartbreak.

“No,” you replied, your voice cold and resolute.

“My name’s Nova,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I’m a hero.”

Moretti’s eyes narrowed as he struggled against the invisible force holding him in place. The firelight danced in his dark eyes, highlighting the rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“A hero?” he spat, his voice thick with venom. “Heroes don’t destroy lives. Heroes don’t betray people who trusted them.”

You clenched your fists, his words slicing deeper than you cared to admit. “You don’t get to lecture me about betrayal, Moretti. You built your empire on lies, blood, and fear. How many families have you destroyed? How many people have died because of you?”

His lip curled into a sneer. “And you think you’re better? Pretending to be one of us, cozying up to me, all for this?” He gestured around the burning warehouse as much as his pinned position would allow. 

You stepped closer, your boots crunching against the broken glass and debris littering the floor. The heat was becoming unbearable, sweat dripping down your face, but you refused to let him see any weakness.

“This is justice,” you said firmly. “You’ve spent years thinking you were untouchable, that no one could stop you. But look around, Moretti. Your empire is crumbling, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you, broken only by the roar of the flames. Then, he laughed—a low, bitter sound that sent a chill down your spine despite the suffocating heat.

Moretti’s eyes blazed with fury as he struggled against your powers, his voice a growl of defiance. “You think this is over? That locking me up ends this?” He barked a harsh laugh, the sound cutting through the roaring flames.

“You’re delusional, Nova. As long as you’re alive, you’ll never know peace. Everyone you care about—your family, your friends—I’ll make sure they all pay for what you’ve done here tonight.”

You forced yourself to stay steady, to keep your face impassive even as the weight of his threat coiled in your chest.

“You’re not in a position to make threats,” you snapped, dragging him closer to the exit. But his words lingered, burrowing into your mind like a parasite.

Moretti sneered, his confidence unshaken despite the fire and chaos surrounding him. “You underestimate me. Even in chains, I have power. My reach extends far beyond these walls. Do you really think you can protect them all?”

He leaned forward as much as your powers allowed, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You’ve made this personal, Lily—or should I call you Nova now? Either way, everyone you love is living on borrowed time.”

You froze, your grip faltering for just a fraction of a second. That was all it took for Moretti to see the crack in your armor, and he smiled—a wicked, knowing grin that sent a chill down your spine.

“I know who you are,” he said softly, almost triumphantly. “Your face might be a secret to the world, but not to me. And when I get out—and I will get out—I’ll make sure you live long enough to watch them all die, one by one.”

The rage that surged through you in that moment was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Your hand trembled as you fought the urge to tighten your hold, to slam him against the wall again and silence him for good.

PRESENT:CHAPTER 12 CONTINUATION…

The door to the east wing loomed before you, and with a shared nod, you pushed it open. Inside, Moretti waited, flanked by a handful of his men. His cold green eyes lit up with twisted amusement as he saw you enter.

“Well, well,” he drawled, spreading his arms as if welcoming old friends. “The runaway and the hothead. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“You won’t be wondering much longer,” Bakugo growled, stepping forward, explosions sparking in his palms.

“Careful, Dynamight,” Moretti said with a smirk, his hand casually resting on the pistol at his side. “I still hold all the cards.”

You stepped beside Bakugo, your voice calm but firm. “Not anymore, Moretti. This ends now.”

The tension in the room thickened as Bakugo and you stood ready, the weight of your words settling over Moretti. His smirk faltered, but it was quickly replaced with a look of cold, calculating rage. He had underestimated you, but that would be his mistake.

“You think you can just walk in here and take me down?” Moretti sneered, his hand tightening around the grip of his pistol. “You’re both pathetic if you believe that.”

Before he could raise his weapon, Bakugo lunged forward, blasting the ground beneath him with an explosion that sent him hurtling towards Moretti at high speed. The force of the blast threw the men standing beside him back, and Bakugo collided with Moretti’s right-hand man, sending him crashing into a stack of crates.

Moretti barely had time to react before you were on him, your quirk flaring as you moved with a speed and precision that startled him. Your hand shot out, knocking the pistol from his grasp before he could pull the trigger. The metallic clatter of the weapon hitting the floor echoed through the room.

“Nice try,” you said, your voice a low growl, as you stepped back, preparing yourself for whatever came next.

Bakugo, now almost free of the goons who’d been circling him, shot you a look. “Careful.”

“Focus,” you shot back, keeping your eyes locked on Moretti.

Bakugo advanced first, throwing an explosion directly at the nearby table, the force of the blast sending it toppling over, blocking the line of sight for Moretti’s men. They tried to recover, but Bakugo was already upon them, his fists lashing out with the sheer force of his explosive quirk.

Meanwhile, you circled behind Moretti, not giving him a moment to breathe. You could feel the surge of power building inside you, the remnants of your quirk pushing against your skin. But there was something more, something deeper driving you—the need to finish what you’d started, to take down the man who had ruined your life and threatened the people you cared for.

“You’re not getting away with this,” you said, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

Moretti spun around, a wicked glint in his eyes. “You really think you can defeat me?” he hissed, his tone full of venom. “I’ve been untouchable for years. You’re just a scared little girl trying to play hero.”

You took a step closer, ignoring the sting of his words. “I’m not scared of you, Moretti.”

In the split second he took to reach for another weapon, you lunged, gripping his arm and twisting it behind his back. Your quirk surged again, crackling in your palms as you pressed him against the wall. His breaths grew more frantic as he struggled against your grip.

A pained groan cut through the air, and your eyes instinctively flicked to Bakugo. He was still standing, but barely. His explosions were less precise now, slower, his arms trembling with fatigue as each burst sent another one of Moretti’s men crashing to the floor. His breaths were sharp and ragged, the strain of maintaining his power taking its toll.

Distracted by the sight of him, your guard faltered, and in that moment, Moretti took advantage of the opening. With a brutal headbutt, he drove you back, the impact reverberating through your skull. 

Before you could regain your footing, Moretti shoved you into a nearby window, and you felt the glass give way beneath your body, sharp shards embedding into your skin as the window shattered. The rush of air knocked the wind out of you, and the sharp sting of glass against your abdomen sent waves of agony crashing through your chest. 

Moretti didn’t pause. He lifted you effortlessly and threw you to the ground, the harsh impact jolting your bones. The pain was almost unbearable, but you fought to stay conscious, to keep moving. You found yourself beneath him once more, his face hovering above you as he tried to catch his breath. His hands were pinning your wrists above your head, trapping you beneath him as he sneered.

"Did you mean it?" His voice was low, filled with something that bordered on insanity.

"What?" You gasped, still trying to catch your breath. 

"Did you kill her?"

The question struck you like a slap. "Yes," you answered, your voice hoarse but steady.

He seemed to flinch, his grip tightening around your wrists as his anger surged. "The one thing I loved most in this world... and you took her from me."

You locked eyes with him, your gaze cold and unyielding. "She didn’t deserve a father like you."

His jaw clenched as his fury flared. “I should’ve made you pay for this a long time ago.”

With a vicious growl, Moretti’s fingers tightened around your throat, the crushing pressure cutting off your airway. Your vision blurred, stars flickering at the edges as panic gripped you. His other hand fumbled at his side, and you caught the gleam of the gun as he raised it, his aim steady and deliberate.

“Don’t think I ever forgot about our conversation from years ago.” he snarled, his voice laced with venom. His eyes flicked briefly to Bakugo, who was battling a swarm of Moretti’s men, explosions lighting up the darkened warehouse like fireworks.

Desperation clawed at your chest as you struggled beneath him, your limbs heavy and unresponsive. His grip on your throat loosened slightly as he adjusted his aim, allowing you to gasp for air.

“No—no, Moretti,” you croaked, your voice raw and trembling. Anxiety churned in your stomach, the weight of his words from years ago echoing in your mind. The fire. The pain. The promises of vengeance he’d made that night.

Fear twisted through you as you watched Bakugo fight, oblivious to his danger. His movements were relentless, a blur of precision and fury as he blasted away at the men surrounding him. But he was too far away, too distracted to notice what was happening.

“Please—I’m begging you,” you rasped, the words tumbling out in a broken plea.

Moretti paused, his cold eyes locking on yours. A twisted smile curled at the edges of his lips, full of malice and triumph. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper.

“You took my daughter. It’s only fair if I take something from you.”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless in a new way. You shook your head, tears spilling from your eyes as your chest heaved with silent, frantic sobs.

He cocked the gun with a deliberate click, the sound cutting through the chaos like a death knell. Panic surged through you, overriding the pain and exhaustion.

“KATSUKI—!” you screamed, but the cry was muffled as Moretti slammed his hand over your mouth.

“You don’t get to call for him,” he hissed, his face inches from yours. The noise of explosions and the shouting of men drowned out your muffled cries. Bakugo didn’t turn around, didn’t see the danger he was in.

“Say goodbye,” he whispered.

It happened in an instant.

The deafening crack of the gunshot rang out, cutting through the chaos like a dagger. Time seemed to slow as you watched Bakugo jerk to a stop, the impact of the bullet slamming into his side. His crimson eyes widened, not in fear, but in rage, as blood began to seep through his hero costume.

“No!” you screamed, your voice breaking as you tried to reach for him.

Bakugo staggered, one hand clutching his side as he dropped to a knee. His teeth clenched in pain, but the fire in his eyes didn’t falter. “You think a bullet’s gonna stop me?” he growled, forcing himself back to his feet despite the blood now dripping onto the floor.

Moretti sneered, his gun still raised, aiming for Bakugo’s head this time. “You’re tougher than you look,” he mocked. “But I don’t miss twice.”

Before Moretti could pull the trigger again, he raised his hand, motioning for his guards to stand down. The men hesitated, confused, but obeyed, lowering their weapons as they stepped away from Bakugo.

Moretti’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you up with brutal force. A sharp grunt escaped your lips as pain radiated from your scalp, your knees buckling beneath you.

“Please—” you gasped, tears spilling freely now as you struggled against his iron grip. “Leave him alone. This is between us.”

“No…” His voice echoed with venom as he repeated the words from years ago. “As long as you’re alive, you’ll never know peace. Everyone you care about—your family, your friends—I'll make sure they all suffer for what you’ve done here tonight.”

“Then let him go,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “Kill me. It’s me you want.”

Moretti chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in closer. His nose brushed against the side of your face, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You still smell so sweet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with malice, “even with all that blood.”

His grip on you tightened like a vice, pulling your body flush against his. The weight of his presence was suffocating. “I never wanted to kill you, you know,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “I loved you once… But you seem to have that effect on men. Breaking them.”

He turned his gaze toward Bakugo, who was glaring at him with unrelenting fury despite the blood staining his side. Moretti smirked, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Do you love her?” Moretti asked, his voice sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Katsuki, don’t answer him,” you said quickly, your voice strained with desperation.

Moretti’s expression darkened. “I said… do you love her?”

There was a beat of silence, heavy and suffocating. Then Bakugo spoke.

“No.”

Moretti erupted into a cruel, mocking laugh. “And you were going to sacrifice yourself for what? For him? A man who doesn’t love you?”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as you looked at Bakugo. His face was tense, his expression unreadable, but his eyes never left yours.

“So what’s it gonna be, Nova?” Moretti taunted, his voice low and venomous. “You or him?”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you turned to face Moretti fully, the broken window behind the two of you framing the chaos of the moment.

“Me,” you said, your voice steady, even as tears streamed down your face.

Before he could react, you threw your arms around him, holding him tight as you surged forward. His eyes widened in shock, the realization dawning too late. You plunged through the shattered window, the sharp glass fragments cutting through the air.

The rush of air stole the breath from your lungs as you fell, the world spinning in a chaotic blur. Moretti’s body was heavy against yours, but you held onto him until the last moment. Then, you released him, watching as he fell below you. His eyes closed, a look of grim acceptance on his face as he hurtled toward the ground.

You felt a strange calmness begin to settle over you, the wind whipping against your skin. 

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. The chaos of the world, the deafening winds, and the fear—all faded into a distant hum. In that instant, it was just you and the open sky, weightless and free.

But as the ground rushed up toward you, your heart pounded with something else—something deeper than fear. It was the finality of it all, the understanding that, for once, you were not just a survivor. You were someone who had chosen to end it all, choosing to make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Then a bright flash of blonde hair cut through the blur of motion. The explosion of sound that followed was deafening, the impact of Bakugo’s blast like thunder in your chest. His hand gripped yours, pulling you close as the world seemed to collapse into itself.

And then, there was stillness. A strange kind of peace, despite the chaos surrounding you. Bakugo’s arms wrapped around you tightly, his body warm and strong against yours, the only thing keeping you tethered to life. You could feel his heart racing, a mirror to your own, but there was an unspoken promise in the way he held you, something more powerful than words. A connection that no threat could sever.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his breath ragged but steady.

The ground rushed up to meet you both, but Bakugo twisted midair, shielding you with his body as you landed with a bone-jarring impact. The force of the explosion softened the fall, but pain radiated through you both as you hit the ground.

Dust and debris hung thick in the air, the faint glow of the moon filtering through the shattered window above. For a moment, everything was eerily silent, the chaos finally settling. Then, a low groan broke the stillness.

Bakugo’s arms were still wrapped protectively around you, his grip loose but steadfast. His chest heaved against yours, his breathing labored yet steady.

“That was fucking risky,” he rasped, his voice rough but tinged with exasperation.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and blood, but his crimson eyes burned as fiercely as ever. “You’re bleeding,” you said, your voice trembling as your hands moved to his side. “Sit down. Now.”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, trying to wave you off as he shifted to stand.

“No, you’re not.” Your voice cracked, panic seeping into your tone. “He shot you.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, his usual defiance shining through despite the pain. “I’ve been shot plenty of times, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “This? This is nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” you snapped, tears welling in your eyes again as you pressed your palm against the wound on his side, trying to stem the bleeding. The warm, sticky sensation made your stomach twist. “You’re losing blood, we need to get you to a hospital.”

He winced but didn’t pull away, his hand resting lightly over yours. “You’re freaking out over nothing,” he muttered, though his voice softened at the sight of your tears.

“Stop pretending you’re invincible,” you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I can’t—” Your words faltered, the weight of everything hitting you all at once.

You almost just died, but then you didn’t. The gravity of it all hit you like a crashing wave—one moment, you were falling through the air, feeling the sharp sting of fear and adrenaline; the next, you were in Bakugo’s arms, alive, but barely able to comprehend how.

Bakugo was shot. The blood soaking through his clothes, the pain in his eyes, it tore at you in ways you didn’t know you could feel. 

And then Moretti was gone, his lifeless body falling with the same cold inevitability that had followed him for so long. His reign of terror was over, but the victory felt hollow.

"This isn’t anywhere near where I thought we were," Bakugo muttered, his voice gruff as he shifted his weight. His abdomen aching.

You blinked up at the unfamiliar surroundings, the disorienting feeling of being outside yet nowhere near any familiar landmarks sinking in. The buildings were old, run-down, and the streets were eerily quiet, a far cry from the chaos you’d just escaped. The darkness loomed around you like an ever-present shadow, and the unfamiliar city seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Bakugo’s gaze darted over the streets, but there were no signs, no clues to tell him where the hell they’d ended up. The distance between here and the place you had started felt like a world away.

As Bakugo’s attention was momentarily diverted, you quickly yanked your sweatshirt off, revealing only your sports bra underneath. You weren’t sure why the heat had risen in your chest, but it was the only way you could help him now.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bakugo’s voice snapped you from your thoughts, the sharp edge of his tone drawing your focus back to him.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, your hands shaking as you began ripping a strip of fabric from the hem of your shirt. The raw urgency of the situation spurred you on, but there was something else—something more fragile, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected to reveal.

“Sit down,” you urged, your voice pleading, unguarded.

The sudden softness in your tone caught him off-guard. For a moment, Bakugo hesitated, but the emotion in your voice broke through his usual defiance. He lowered himself slowly to the ground with a grunt, though his fiery gaze never left you.

“Can you take your top off? I can’t see what I’m working with,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat.

Bakugo didn’t argue, a sharp exhale leaving his lips as he pulled his costume's top off. The motion was effortless, but it was clear the effort was taking its toll on him. He winced slightly but didn’t complain.

As the fabric came off, your breath caught in your throat. For a brief moment, it was like time stopped. The sight of him, sweat-drenched and bloodied but still fiercely alive, made you pause. His body was chiseled—like something carved from marble itself. Strong, defined muscles, hardened by years of battle, were a stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Stop starin’,” Bakugo growled, snapping you out of your trance. His voice was rough, the usual cocky arrogance laced with something softer, something only you would notice.

You forced yourself to focus, shaking your head to clear the haze of heat that had settled in your chest. Your hands moved swiftly to tie the makeshift bandage around his wound, your fingers trembling as you worked. The urgency of the moment burned through the haze, the necessity of patching him up overshadowing everything else.

Bakugo gritted his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the ground, his silence telling you just how much pain he was in. But he didn’t flinch or ask for you to stop.

“Quit worrying,” he muttered, his eyes meeting yours briefly. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

You finished tying the bandage, your fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary, almost as if you didn’t want to let go. You could feel your pulse racing, but you had to ignore it. You had to focus on him.

The silence between you both was thick, heavy with unspoken words and emotions you had both tried to bury. Bakugo’s chest heaved with each labored breath, and his eyes flickered to you, softened by something deeper than just the pain of the moment.

“This is my fault,” you murmured, your voice trembling with guilt. “I tried to keep you away, but—”

Before you could finish, Bakugo’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently despite the blood staining his fingertips.

“I’d get shot a hundred times if it meant saving you,” he said, his voice low but filled with an unshakable resolve.

The weight of his words struck you like a lightning bolt, making your chest tighten. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. The vulnerability between you both felt so raw, so unfiltered in this moment.

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “What you said up there… about not loving me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t stop the tremor in your words.

Bakugo’s expression hardened, his eyes darting down to the ground as he exhaled sharply, almost like the words he had said before burned him too. “It was a lie,” he confessed, his voice thick with regret. “I was hopin’ that if I turned you against me, you’d save yourself… but I guess it didn’t matter what I had to say, did it?”

You shook your head, the air thick with the vulnerability that hung between you both. “It didn’t matter what you said,” you whispered. “I would have done it anyway. I’d jump out of a window a hundred times if it meant saving you.”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and despite everything, despite the blood and the pain, something soft flickered in his eyes. “Idiot,” he muttered, but the warmth in his tone couldn’t be ignored. “You’re insane.”

“I know.” You smiled, but it wasn’t just a smile—it was everything that had been left unsaid, everything you wanted him to understand. 

His expression softened, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered hoarsely, though there was no anger in his words, just the quiet desperation of someone who had almost lost the one person they couldn’t bear to lose.

The soft rhythm of Bakugo’s breathing filled the air, and for a moment, it seemed like the world had paused. But then, in the distance, the unmistakable sound of sirens broke through the quiet, growing louder with each passing second. The relief you’d been holding at bay suddenly rushed in, an overwhelming wave of emotion that left you dizzy.

"You called for backup?" you asked, your voice laced with a mix of relief and tension.

"I dropped my pin to shitty hair the moment the power came back on," he replied, his voice steady despite the strain.

You exhaled a shaky breath, the tension in your chest loosening as his words sank in. The sirens were closer now, their sound vibrating through the air, promising salvation just on the horizon.

"Of course you did," you muttered, a small, almost disbelieving laugh escaping your lips. 

He smirked faintly, though the strain in his features was impossible to miss. 

Your heart twisted at the defiant glint in his eyes, his strength unwavering even as blood seeped through his side, the stain spreading with every second. You stayed beside him, hands trembling as they hovered over his wound.

The sound of boots crunching on debris signaled the arrival of help. You looked over your shoulder to see Kirishima and a team of medics rushing toward you. 

“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered, turning back to him as the medics surrounded you both.

His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Told ya’ so.”

---

TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh @faetoraa@iissza@cax-per @cielito--lindo

@nombakugoswife1

Saving this for later

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝚿 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

★ 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️ playlist

Where a daughter of Aphrodite and the son of the sea god are destined for an epic romance for the ages. But in a cruel twist of fate the Gods are infamous for, only one is meant to live past sixteen. Percy will stop at nothing to defy the Fates and save the girl he loves from becoming another Greek tragedy

Pairings: Percy Jacson x fem!oc

© 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯 & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 + 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘭𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴

·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•·̊‧̥⋆͙˖̍̊•

00. the girl with everything but time

01. panic at the disco... no, really

more to be added . . .

This man is built like a brick house goddamn

Hot & Bothered

THEY DO IT BEST

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

Wrong Person

The bar was crowded, the vibrant music filling the air, and the lights flickered in colorful tones. You looked around, trying to distract yourself. After a tough week at university, all you wanted was to relax and enjoy the night with your best friend, Mina.

However, your plans quickly changed when Mina became enchanted by a guy—tall, handsome, and clearly interested in her.

“Go talk to him!” you encouraged her. It was obvious she wanted to.

“We came here to unwind. I’m not going to leave you alone,” she hesitated.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. We came here to have fun, so go get him, girl,” you smiled, giving her a little push.

She smiled back before making her way toward him.

Not long after, they disappeared into a more private area, out of your sight. Now alone, you tried not to let it bother you. It was true that you had told Mina you didn’t mind, but in reality, the last thing you wanted was to be alone. You attempted to distract yourself—scrolling through your phone, observing the people around you—and, since you were at a bar, you figured you might as well get a drink.

The first one went down easily. The second did too. Before you knew it, the third was on its way. The bitter taste of alcohol barely registered as you focused on feeling less out of place.

However, as the alcohol took effect, a wave of dizziness hit you. The voices around you blurred together, the music pounded in your head, and suddenly, everything felt distant. You tried texting Mina, letting her know you wanted to leave since she was your ride, but after waiting a few minutes with no response, you figured she wouldn’t see your message anytime soon.

The discomfort grew, and you suddenly realized how vulnerable you were. Not knowing what else to do, you decided the right thing was to text your brother so he could come pick you up.

Fumbling with your phone, you scrolled through your contacts. After some difficulty, you finally tapped on his name and typed a message.

"Hey, Eiji. I’m at the bar, and I’m not feeling great. I think I drank too much… Can you come pick me up?"

His response came almost immediately.

"Coming."

You noticed his reply was unusually short. He was usually much more affectionate over text, but maybe he was just annoyed that he had to come pick up his little sister at 2 a.m.

Even so, you sighed in relief. You really didn’t want to be there anymore.

A few minutes later, you spotted a familiar blond-haired boy at the bar’s entrance. His eyes scanned the room, searching, until they locked onto yours. You tried to smile, but with the alcohol clouding your system and your mind in a haze, you figured you probably weren’t doing a great job of it.

He walked over quickly, his expression calm—no sign of judgment.

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” Katsuki said, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

He started leading you outside, but as soon as you stepped out of the bar, you pulled away, stopping in your tracks and looking at him, annoyed.

“Where do you think you’re taking me? You can’t just drag me anywhere just because you’re Eijiro’s best friend.”

He sighed, turning back to face you.

“You texted me to come pick you up, dumbass.”

You stared at him, confused.

“What? No, I didn’t. I texted my brother.”

Too impatient to deal with you in your drunken state, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it up, showing you the message history. And there it was—the same message you thought you had sent to your older brother had actually been sent to his best friend. Your cheeks flushed as you realized your mistake.

“Can we go now?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You simply nodded.

He turned his back to you and walked toward his car. Now that you were calmer, you took a proper look at him. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, his shirt slightly crooked—almost as if he had rushed out of the house without even bothering to fix it.

Was he really that worried about you?

The thought lingered in your hazy mind as you followed him to the car. Katsuki wasn’t the type to drop everything for just anyone. He was blunt, impatient, and rarely went out of his way unless it was for someone he truly cared about.

Had he really rushed out just because of your message?

Your gaze drifted back to his slightly disheveled appearance—the messy hair, the crooked shirt, the way his jaw was set, like he was annoyed but still here. Still making sure you were okay.

Maybe, just maybe, he cared more than he let on.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Bakugou opened the passenger door and waited for you to get in. Obediently, you did as he wanted and sat down. You watched as he walked around the car and got in himself.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”

He nodded. “If you need to throw up or something, tell me. I don’t want you messing up my car.”

You smiled at his words. It was no surprise to anyone that his car was his most prized possession. But now that you were finally inside it, you understood why. The car was immaculate. Not a single speck of dust, the leather seats looked brand new, and the faint scent of something fresh—maybe citrus or mint—lingered in the air. It was the kind of car you’d expect from someone as meticulous as Bakugou.

You let your fingers glide over the armrest absentmindedly, still feeling the slight buzz from the alcohol in your system. “I get it now,” you murmured.

Bakugou glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Get what?”

“Why you’re so obsessed with this car. It’s… nice,” you admitted.

He scoffed, but you could see the corner of his lips twitching upward, as if he were suppressing a smirk. “Damn right it is.”

A comfortable silence settled between you as he drove, the soft hum of the engine filling the space. The city lights blurred past the window, and despite the night not going as planned, a strange warmth spread through your chest.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that, even though you had texted the wrong person, Bakugou still came for you.

Not long after, he finally reached your place. Parking the car, he stepped out and walked over to help you.

“Here we go,” he muttered as he steadied you, guiding you up the stairs to the apartment you shared with your brother.

Fumbling with your keys, you unlocked the door and stumbled inside, leaving it open so Bakugou could follow.

“Isn’t Eijiro home?” he asked, glancing around.

You looked around as well, but there was no sign of your brother.

“Oh, that’s right. He’s spending the night at a classmate’s place to finish a project,” you said, suddenly remembering.

“I see,” he muttered.

“Katsuki, can you help me get to my room?” you asked, pointing in its direction.

He nodded and led you there, steadying you when you stumbled slightly. Once inside, you grabbed your pajamas and made your way to the bathroom.

Bakugou sat on the edge of your bed, waiting patiently for you to return. Normally, he would have just left. But for some reason, he was still here.

And strangely, that was comforting.

As the warm water ran over your face, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering dizziness in your head. Slowly, you changed into your pajamas, exhaustion settling deep into your body. The night had been overwhelming, but knowing that Bakugou was still there, waiting, made it feel a little less lonely.

When you stepped back into your room, he was still sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up, his sharp eyes scanning you quickly before nodding in approval.

“Feel better?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, much better.”

He stood up, stretching slightly. “Alright, then. I should probably—”

“Stay,” you interrupted before you could stop yourself.

He froze, raising an eyebrow at you.

You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “I mean… just for a bit. You don’t have to, but—”

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes, but instead of leaving, he sat back down. “Fine. Just until you fall asleep.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you climbed into bed, pulling the covers over you. Bakugou leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, looking like he wasn’t planning to move anytime soon.

The room was quiet except for the occasional sounds of the city outside. The only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over Bakugou’s face. He looked ethereal—almost unreal—and something shifted inside you.

Sensing your gaze on him, he turned to you. “You know, to sleep, you actually need to close your eyes, idiot,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or something else, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Thank you for coming to help me,” you whispered, shifting a little closer to him, seeking warmth.

“Whatever. You’re my best friend’s little sister—I couldn’t just leave you there, dumbass.”

You smiled and, before you could think twice, moved even closer.

“What are you—” Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant. But before you could fully savor it, he pulled away. You looked at him, confused.

“Look… you’re drunk. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow,” he said, looking away—but you caught the redness creeping onto the tips of his ears.

You smiled, nodding in understanding before curling up under the blankets. Your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion and alcohol finally catching up to you.

Just as you drifted off, you felt the mattress shift slightly, a warmth settling beside you.

Maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t texted the wrong person after all.

NOT THAT HE CARES | Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo never wanted to be here. The bass is too loud, the air is thick with sweat and alcohol, and the entire place reeks of bad decisions. But you—you—had convinced him to come.

“Just for a little while,” you had pleaded, tugging at his sleeve with that damn smile of yours.

“Please?” He had rolled his eyes, muttered whatever, and somehow ended up here—leaning against the wall not too far away, arms crossed, watching you with a scowl as you laughed way too much at something your friend just said.

It was fine at first. You stuck to a couple of drinks, stayed close to your friends, nothing he needed to interfere with. But now? Now you’re swaying slightly, eyes glassy, your grin too loose. Your friends aren’t any better—one of them is barely holding themselves up, the other is too busy flirting to care what’s happening around them.

And then, of course, some asshole decides to make things worse.Bakugo notices him immediately. A guy—tall, shady asshole, dressed like he thinks he’s hot shit—zeroing in on you like you’re easy prey. He watches as the guy sidles up next to you, leans in too close, and whispers something in your ear.

You blink at him, swaying slightly. “Huh?”The guy chuckles, placing a hand on your lower back. “How about we get out of here, yeah?”Bakugo doesn’t think. He moves.In an instant, he’s at your side, stepping between you and shoving the guy a great distance from you.

“Back up!” The guy blinks, taking a step back. “Whoa, chill, man. Just making sure they’re okay.”he holds his hands up “she’s fine.” His voice is cold, sharp. “And she’s leaving dip shit.”

The guy hesitates, looking between you and Bakugo like he’s deciding whether it’s worth the trouble. But one look at Bakugo’s clenched fists and deadly glare, and he backs off with a scoff, muttering something about people being too uptight.

Bakugo ignores him, turning back to you. “We’re goin’.”You pout. “But—”“No buts.” He grabs your wrist, steady but firm. “You’re done.”You mumble something incoherent but don’t resist as he leads you through the crowd. Your friends barely notice you leaving, too caught up in their own mess.Idiots.

The night air is sharp against his skin as he helps you into his car. You fumble with the seatbelt, and with an irritated sigh, he leans over, buckling it for you.“You’re bossy,” you mumble, blinking up at him.

“And you’re a damn lightweight,” he shoots back, shutting the door before walking around to the driver’s side.The drive is quiet. You’re half-asleep against the window, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He glances at you, then sighs, grabbing a bottle of water from the cupholder.

“Drink.”You blink at it, sluggish. “Why?”“So you don’t feel like complete shit tomorrow.”

A slow, sleepy smile spreads across your lips. “You do care.”His hands tighten around the wheel. “Tch. Shut up.”Still, you take a few sips, mumbling a quiet thank you before closing your eyes again.By the time he pulls up to your place, you’re barely awake. He gets out, opens your door, and sighs when you don’t move.

“Oi.” He nudges your arm. Nothing.With a grunt, he unbuckles your seatbelt and scoops you into his arms, carrying you inside like it’s second nature.

Your breath is warm against his neck as he unlocks your door.“…Bakugo?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

He exhales through his nose. “What?”

“…You’re really warm.”His face heats up, but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Yeah, yeah. Just go to sleep.”And maybe, just maybe, as he tucks you into bed and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, he finally admits—just to himself—that you might be the only person in the world he’d ever do this for.Not that he cares.(Of course he does.)