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cosmos-coma · 4 months

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My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

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Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat.

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him.

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup.

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.”

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’ you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send.

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held.

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner.

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation.

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?”

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again.

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.”

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened.

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried.

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms.

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet.

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten.

He should have listened.

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung.

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn.

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake.

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over.

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him.

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.”

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be.

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click.

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend.

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead.

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence.

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door.

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached.

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise.

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour.

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently.

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question.

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away.

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more.

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal.

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body.

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin.

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning?

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him.

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better.

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin.

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not.

“Oh. I-”

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere.

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on.

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands.

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze,

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way.

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room.

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden-

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet.

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways.

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid.

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again.

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air.

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team.

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again.

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive.

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive.

“I can’t do this without you…”

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place.

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.”

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].”

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague.

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…”

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab.

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work.

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly.

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?”

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss.

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….”

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head.

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…”

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye.

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began.

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry.

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

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cheeseceli · 7 days

Text

Fri(end)s

Pairing: Lee Know × Gn!reader

Genre: headcanons, fluff, angst

Prompt: "but friends don't say words that make friends feel like more than just friends, so let's just put the 'end' in friends"

Warnings: a little bit of insecurity, nothing more

A/n: this might be V's best song I fear | join the 1k event !

Friend (?) Lee Know who just really likes physical touch whenever he's around you

Friend (?) Lee Know who is always texting you, ignoring all the 6492649 unread messages his members sent him

Friend (?) Lee Know who insists he doesn't need to go on dates and stuff, however he never denied whether he wanted a partner or not

Friend (?) Lee Know who thinks "you can do better" whenever you showed him a picture of your current crush

Certainly more than a friend Lee Know who always has sleepovers with you, which constantly end up with you and him peacefully cuddling each other to sleep

Certainly more than a friend Lee Know who apparently talked about you to his mother, considering she now has your number and treats you like her own daughter

Certainly more than a friend Lee Know who is always looking at you even when you're on the other side of the room

Certainly more than a friend Lee Know who is tired of being just friends, but he'd rather have you like this than not having you at all

... Friend Lee Know who tries to distance himself once he sees he really can't hide his feelings

... Friend Lee Know who has no idea of how much you're missing him right now

... Friend Lee Know who is pushed up against the wall by you because you really want to know what on earth is going on

Not a friend Lee Know who finally admits he loves likes you on an impulse

Not a friend Lee Know who thinks he screwed up when he sees you speechless

Not a friend Lee Know who is already planning his apology but never actually uses it considering he forgot it all the moment you kissed him

Finally not a friend (!) Lee Know who is a bit confused, but doesn't hesitate on kissing you back

Finally not a friend (!) Lee Know who giggles after the kiss

Boyfriend Lee Know who gets teased by his members for the rest of his life because what took him so long??

Boyfriend Lee Know who was able to put the "end" in "friends" at the same time he got to date his best friend

Masterlist | you'll probably like: scared?

Thank you for reading 🩷

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

#how did i forgot to put tags😭😭#stray kids #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz #stray kids soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #skz angst #skz imagines #lee know x reader #lee know stray kids #lee know imagines #lee know fluff #lee know #lee minho

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silkscream · 4 months

Text

CHAPTER 4: EYES WITHOUT A FACE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He’s never known what to do with his feelings, always choosing to bury them where no one else could reach until all of it would rot by itself. It didn’t concern him. It was why he lived life somewhat carelessly. Avoidant.

He’s never known what to do with his feelings about you, either.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content, angst, dub/noncon, underage alcohol usage

ੈ✩ wc: 4.3k

ੈ✩ a/n: chuckles nervously... the plot thickens

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

November, 2008

You are downing your third gin and juice when you start to feel your bones loosen. Anxiously, you had already downed a glass of wine before you arrived at Satoru’s house, and that wasn’t enough to settle your nerves. You’d only been here for about an hour and a half and had mingled with a few classmates you recognized from school, otherwise keeping to yourself amidst the chaos.

That is, until a wired Shoko slings her arm around your shoulder, nearly tripping over herself.

“You came!” she beams. You’d only met her a few times, mostly in passing, each time at Satoru’s house while you were with your mother working and not as a guest.

She’s deer-like, with a dazed, sleepy expression on her face and a joint hanging out of her mouth as opposed to her usual Seven Star. She leans on you close enough for you to smell the smoky scent of her hair, which is currently adorned with small black devil ears.

“Happy birthday, Ieiri-san,” you smile, fishing a small box out of your coat.

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything! Those idiots only got me like two cases of beer as a present, anyway,” she laughs. She unwraps the gift to reveal a zippo lighter with a scorpion design on it.

“I thought cigarettes would’ve been too on the nose,” you shrug.

“I love it,” she smiles, hugging you. “Suguru always steals my lighters. He’s definitely not getting a hold of this one.”

“Do you know where he is? Or Gojo-kun?”

She looks at you, then, with an unreadable expression. Something of simultaneous confusion and amusement.

“Probably doing something illegal. I’d guess upstairs or outside, maybe? I just saw them.”

You snort. There wouldn’t be one without the other. You blame your eagerness to drink on why you hadn’t caught them earlier, though when you check your phone again for the fifth time tonight, there are no messages. Satoru is inconsistent in his texting anyway – either silent for a few days, then blowing up your phone in the middle of the night with his random thoughts.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, let me know if you need anything, okay?” She squeezes your hand like a friend would. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you, Ieiri-san,” you nod.

You explore the kitchen, frowning at the clear spills on the countertop and the nearly empty cabinets that used to be full of glasses and mugs. You roll your eyes at your immediate thoughts of cleaning up. Always your mother’s child, never a real guest in a place like this.

You don’t think you can handle another gin and juice, though the drunken devil on your shoulder still goads you to drink more. You were a lightweight, less so than Satoru, but enough to feel blurry at the moment. You settle on a forgotten bottle of plum wine, justifying it with its lesser alcohol content.

The taste is sweet, sickeningly so. Something that Satoru would like. It tastes like he would.

You ignore the slight ache in your head. The music is too loud, blasting in your ears, and the number of people who have arrived at the party since you’d spoken to Shoko has multiplied tenfold.

You stare at your phone again. Nothing.

You’re too warm in your coat now, huddled shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers. There’s probably a safe chance that the boys were upstairs, and even if they weren’t, you could take a breather in Satoru’s room and leave your coat there.

It’s humid once you get to the top of the staircase. Your hair sticks to your back a little as you carry your coat in your arms. The black slip dress you decided on feels too thin, suddenly, but you think it suits your body. Shows just the right amount of skin because of how short it is. Satoru would like it.

The door to Satoru’s bedroom is slightly ajar. You hear more than one voice – a round of them, boisterous. There are several bottles of alcohol on the floor that you can see, a full ashtray, and a small group of strangers that you assume to be Satoru’s friends, though you realize they’re all women. When you tilt your head, you can see him.

He’s sitting on Suguru’s lap, laughing. You notice the way Suguru’s hand rests on Satoru’s stomach, while Satoru absentmindedly taps his fingers along Suguru’s thigh. He’s sprawled out on the boy, taking up space the way he always does, and it looks… intimate. Like they belong to each other.

Satoru whines when Suguru bites at the exposed skin of his collarbone playfully, swatting him away. It’s a similar gesture you do to him when he sneaks up behind you at school. When he gets you alone. When he gets you to follow him home until you end up in his bed.

You know that Satoru is a touchy drunk, but you’ve never seen such adoration in his eyes before. It makes you feel sick.

But you can’t find it in yourself to be angry or shocked. Rather, you feel a bit pathetic. Looking from the outside in, in a place you practically grew up in, feeling more alone than ever.

You want to watch them for longer. Like a voyeur.

There’s an itch in your body that wants to see if the boys will kiss. Satoru has never been this touchy with you in the presence of others. With Suguru, it looks like muscle memory.

Your knuckles pale as you grip the bottle of plum wine in your hand. You chug the rest, not caring about the taste making your insides swirl. After discarding your coat in one of the hallway closets, you take a deep breath and retreat downstairs.

Shoko bumps into you in the middle of the dancefloor. The way her face lights up almost dissipates the pit in your stomach. Almost.

“Hey, baby! Come dance.”

“I need a smoke, actually, but I will after.”

“I didn’t know you smoked,” she says, handing you one of her Seven Stars cigarettes and her zippo.

“I can get matches from the kitchen, don’t worry.”

Once you’re outside, the music is a dull ache in the back of your head. The November air is colder than you expect considering the recent days of decent weather, but the alcohol keeps you numb. You inhale smoke, eyes fluttering at the memory of intimacy.

“If you guys drank all my birthday sake, I’m seriously going to castrate you both.”

Shoko pulls the bottle out of Satoru’s hands while he’s in the middle of sipping. He nearly chokes from the force of her, liquid dripping onto his chin. Suguru wipes it off and laughs.

“This isn’t your birthday sake, dumbass!”

“Gross,” Shoko says, wrinkling her nose at the off-brand label. It’s cheap and sweet, just the way Satoru likes it.

Fiending for more alcohol, Satoru frowns when he examines the other liquor bottles scattered around the circle of them, only to find that there’s only hard liquor. He drinks from a bottle of Sprite instead to satiate his craving, in addition to stealing a maraschino cherry out of Yuki’s cocktail.

“You finished every bottle of sake, Satoru,” Suguru frowns.

“Great! Let’s play spin the bottle.”

“No,” Utahime interjects. She throws an empty beer can at Satoru’s head.

“Yeah, I’m downvoting that, too,” Shoko adds. She takes the joint that Suguru finishes rolling and lights it. “It’s my birthday and I’m not letting this idiot try to fuck everyone like he does at every party.”

“That’s because his type is everyone. He’s a whore,” Yuki chuckles.

“I don’t try to fuck everyone–”

“Go find your girlfriend if you want to get your dick wet so bad,” she interrupts, mumbling with the joint in her mouth. “We should find her and get her to play poker with us. She looked a little sad when I saw her.”

“Huh?” Satoru blinks.

“Oh, and why does she call you by your last name? Is it because she technically works for you?”

“No fucking way Gojo found a poor soul to be his girlfriend,” Utahime mutters. She settles her head on Shoko’s lap in the bed, stealing the joint out of her mouth. “Do you pay her?”

“No, she’s like a servant or something, right?” Yuki says.

“Gojo! That’s sick. The poor girl.”

“Stop, you’re making her out to seem like she’s my fucking concubine,” Satoru asserts, a bit too fiercely than he means to. His lips twitch at the mention of you.

Suguru raises his brows at Satoru, knowing the boy is too drunk and too befuddled to know what to say. The girls stare.

“She’s not my girlfriend, either.”

“You should fuck her, then,” Shoko slurs. “She’s so cute.”

“She’s our friend,” Suguru drawls, tipping back vodka like it’s water. “You haven’t seen her yet, Satoru?”

Satoru shakes his head. His heart pounds quicker now that you’re the topic of conversation. That feeling comes back – the one that makes him panic, as if he’s discovering that something he owns is lost. It twists in his stomach, knowing how selfish it is. He wants to keep you in a way that’s separate from the rest of his life because you were his.

He gets up and mumbles something about going to the bathroom. In the hallway, he opens his phone and stares at your contact. Your photo hasn’t changed in years – a goofy close-up that he took when he was thirteen.

When he calls you, his heartbeat quickens the longer the phone rings, only to realize that he hears the sound of your ringtone from behind the closet. He finds your phone and your coat, but there’s no trace of you.

It sobers him up considerably. The lights in the house flicker.

The temperature drops as the night drags on, which is why you have the firepit to yourself. The fire is still glowing, warming your bare legs.

Fuck. You want another cigarette.

You jump at the sound of another’s presence. When you turn, you see your classmate, Haru, nursing a half-empty bottle of wine in his right hand.

“Getting up to trouble, I see,” he grins.

You laugh. It’s more of a scoff, but you smile at him.

“Yeah, some crazy delinquent activity. Some might even call it mischief.”

The joke makes him laugh, which makes you laugh, genuinely. Haru had the demeanor of a puppy, always excitable and easy to please. It used to be a little annoying when you were first years but he’d mellowed out since then, it seems.

Under the glow of the fire, he looks handsome in a boyish way. His hair has gotten longer over the year, like Suguru’s, but he lets it fall to his shoulders. You scoot over on the patio couch, welcoming him to sit.

“You look very pretty, by the way. I like your dress.”

“O—Oh,” you stammer, surprised. “Thank you.”

He offers you the bottle of wine in his hand and you accept, taking a swig of pinot grigio. Future you is going to kill you for mixing so many different alcohols in your stomach. Current you is basking in the warmth of your surroundings.

“Sorry if this is awkward, but uh—” He fiddles with his fingers, but the eye contact he makes with you feels oddly intense. “Are you, like, seeing Gojo?”

His name makes your face burn. You almost choke on the wine.

“Uh, no. Just—um, what made you think that?”

“He just seems possessive over you,” Haru shrugs.

“Yeah, right. He never talks to me in school.”

“But he does, sometimes, and I notice it. He looks at you in a certain way. S’why I was kind of scared to approach you, actually.”

You furrow your brows at the idea of Satoru scaring other boys away. Other boys didn’t talk to you, never have. You didn’t think you were exceptionally attractive in a way that made other people pine over you. You were always focused on academics anyway. But has Satoru always driven other boys away?

“He’s not my bodyguard or whatever,” you try to joke. “And I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that.”

Haru widens his eyes. You curse yourself in your head. It’s the wine talking. It has to be.

“I think I might be.”

When did he get so close to you? You notice you’re both thigh to thigh. Your stomach drops when Haru caresses your jaw. His touch doesn’t feel right. It’s not what you’re used to, not what you want.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, face inches from yours. You freeze when you realize what’s happening, closing your eyes to accept it. A drunken kiss won’t hurt anyone. Maybe it’s what you need.

He’s soft at first until his tongue pries your mouth open. From there, there’s spit and teeth, his hand squeezing your throat the tiniest bit in a way that makes you whimper. The sound of it encourages him. He has his other hand on your thigh, underneath the hem of your dress.

You’re brainless. A used toy. Your head is swimming rapidly, too messy to register all of it. The panic subsides into blankness as your body surrenders. Everything feels so heavy.

“H-Haru–”

“I’ve always liked you,” he mumbles in between kisses. How is his grip on you so tight?

“Haru, I don’t–”

You can’t get a word in with his tongue down your throat.

You’re barely kissing him back now, but he takes from you anyway. Licks your teeth and inches his hand higher and higher up your thigh. When he finally releases your mouth, he has his tongue on your neck instead, and it feels sordid. You are numb and he is molding you in his hands.

Satoru’s voice is in your head calling you weak.

You recoil when you feel calloused fingers grazing your core. You make a weak attempt to push him away, small fists to his broad chest. When your gaze drifts, you see a pair of burning blue eyes.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing—”

Haru’s hair is yanked, and his body is pulled backward and thrown onto the ground. It’s all too fast—a whiplash of crushed bone and bloody knuckles. White hair and burning blue eyes.

“What the fuck, man–”

You watch in horror as Satoru kicks the boy on his side. You don’t even notice that Suguru is pulling you away with a hand on your waist.

You’ve never seen Satoru so angry. Never seen him be violent outside of playfighting Suguru in the grass. He’s a whole other being in front of you now, and it scares you, and it’s somehow… beautiful.

“Touch her again and I fucking kill you,” he seethes, spitting on Haru’s cheek. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

He’s breathing heavily and glances at you. There’s a look of betrayal and disbelief that you see briefly before Suguru sweeps you away. When you’re back inside, you let go of his hand to run to the bathroom and vomit.

Your eyes fucking ache.

It’s the dried tears and strained pupils underneath the disgusting overhead light of the downstairs bathroom. Your head pounds. You don’t remember when you came to, but you find comfort from the arm around you. Shoko sits next to you and runs a reassuring hand through your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you croak. “I ruined your birthday.”

“Are you kidding?” Shoko chuckles. “That was entertaining as hell. Even if I only saw half of it. Leave it to Satoru to steal all the attention on my birthday.”

You frown, staring at her. How can she be so nonchalant that someone left her party with a broken nose?

The ghost of Haru’s touch makes your skin crawl, making you reflexively shut your thighs together. The bathroom floor is cold underneath your skin.

“I’ve never seen him so mad before,” you lament quietly.

“Neither have I,” she exhales. “It takes a lot to work him up. He had no room to be jealous, though. He said you weren’t his girlfriend.”

Her words prick you like the blade of a dagger. Slowly. Drawing blood.

“I– I wasn’t trying to hook up with that guy,” you say. “I was so drunk. I didn’t want it.”

Shoko looks at you with pity. “Oh, fuck.”

When she wraps your arms around you, you’re too numb to cry. The door opens and the boys enter. Your eyes stay on the floor. Your gut twists inside out.

“How is she?” you hear Suguru ask.

That again. Talking about you instead of to you.

Shoko mouths something, you think. A soundless gesture as she rubs your back soothingly like a sister would.

“You want a ride home, princess?” Suguru asks.

“She can sleep here. There’s a room for her.”

You look up at the sound of Satoru’s voice. His face is cold, unreadable. You don’t expect him to lift you and carry you to his room, but he does. There’s a pang in his heart when you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Take this.” He tips your head back for you and parts your lips with his hands so he can get the painkillers on your tongue. Water down your throat.

“Good girl.”

“I can take care of myself,” you grumble, curling into yourself on the edge of his bed.

“Clearly you can’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have fucking blacked out.”

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you say with dejection. “Just—please don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry. Not with you.”

But he is, just a little. The mere idea of someone else touching you makes him see red, and having it be real and at his fucking house made him livid beyond repair. How dare that piece of trash touch you. Like you aren’t Satoru’s and his alone.

He’s also upset at himself because he knew it wouldn’t have happened if he’d found you sooner.

He lays on his side behind you and pulls you close.

“I don’t understand you,” you say, weakly. Your nose feels fuzzy again the way it does before you cry.

“I don’t, either,” Satoru sighs.

You turn to face him, then, and the look on your face devastates him.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk. I didn’t know what was happening. I mean, I did, but I didn’t—I didn’t want all of that,” you sniffle. “Didn’t want him to touch me.”

You say it like you’re confessing. Pleading. Guilt swallows him whole.

What you want to ask: Why am I only something to you when someone else touches me?

“I’m so sorry,” Satoru whispers. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop it and that you had to see me like that. I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again. Okay?”

Touch her again and I kill you.

You nod weakly, smiling. He holds you and lets you cry until you fall asleep. It feels like he’s committing a crime to be able to hold you like this.

Satoru closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. He’s never known what to do with his feelings, always choosing to bury them where no one else could reach until all of it would rot by itself. It didn’t concern him. It was why he lived life somewhat carelessly. Avoidant.

He’s never known what to do with his feelings about you, either.

He didn’t think they would come back. Ideally, you both would’ve finished school and he would go to Jujutsu Tech and forget about you. Maybe you see you on the off-occasion he’s home, but he doesn’t plan on being home that often. But he’s young and stupid and hungry, and when you were there for him on a platter, he wanted to take you. Consume you.

He feels powerful when he knows that you want to consume him, too. He can’t live with himself knowing that that power will only hurt you in the end.

He almost wishes you were angry at him. You could scream at him if you wanted and it would be justified, but you’re here in his arms again instead. Apologizing.

Something ugly twists inside of him. He remembers what you said in bed the other day.

You could do anything you wanted to me and I think I’d let you.

It made him sick with desire then, but it makes him sick with remorse now.

November, 2008 (Three days later)

“Is she okay? She hasn’t responded to my text,” Suguru asks.

“You text her?”

Satoru tries not to look annoyed. Instead, he looks away and kicks away a discarded Ramune bottle across the pavement. On Mondays, he liked to skip his last class and force Suguru to accompany him for a late lunch that usually consisted of konbini sweets.

“Not really. She has my number, though,” Suguru says, taking a puff of a cigarette. Shoko’s influence. “Why, you jealous?”

“Fuck off.”

“You are.” Suguru gives him a sly grin. “That’s why you knocked the lights out of that guy.”

“He was assaulting her.”

Satoru sighs, sprawling his legs on the bench (which is too short to fit the length of his body) and puts his head in Suguru’s lap. He flinches when Suguru pokes his nose.

“She’s okay, though?”

“I don’t know, to be honest.”

Satoru thinks of your dejected gaze and the limpness of your body when he touched you the next morning. He was softer than usual given the situation, and you bound yourself to him like you always do. Clung to him, almost. He blushes at the memory of your face after he made you cum from his mouth.

You seemed fine at breakfast Saturday morning when Satoru treated you to pancakes. But even with your sarcastic remarks and usual banter, the light in your eyes seemed dimmer.

It had barely been 36 hours since then, but he missed you.

“I think I would’ve done the same thing as you,” Suguru says.

Satoru sighs crankily, throwing an arm over his face to block the sunlight.

“I probably would’ve killed him if you guys weren’t there,” he grumbles. “Sometimes I want to kidnap her, I swear. Never leave her out of my sight. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking drunk.”

Suguru looks down at him, raising his brows. One of his usual looks – astute and slightly shaming.

Satoru is grateful for the darkness of his lenses, though he knows that regardless, Suguru can easily tell what expression he’s giving him. He’s looking away, anyway, examining a stray cat on top of the roof of the konbini.

Satoru takes a moment to trace his eyes along the sharp lines of Suguru’s jawline. Clenched at the thought of you being hurt, a similar sentiment that Satoru’s had for the past few days. His fists burn with the ghost of that bastard’s blood. He wishes he could do it all again—punch his fucking teeth out harder than his nose.

While he thinks of you and the fragility of your far-away stare, he also thinks of your skin. At the moment, the thought is subtly replaced with Suguru’s hands absentmindedly scratching his head. It’s funny — you and Suguru had the same habit when it came to giving Satoru affection.

Prodigies, the two of them. Their abilities would rank them as Grade 1 by their first year of Jujutsu Tech, special grade by the time they complete their first few missions. Satoru really did see Suguru as his other half. It was why your inclusion made him uneasy despite how much he cared for you.

It wasn’t anything personal. He was simply wrapped around Suguru’s finger first. They had drunkenly kissed two years prior, fresh-faced and seventeen, and would continue to on random occasions that weren’t dictated by anything other than hormones and energy shifts in the air.

Maybe Satoru would consider Suguru as his first love, if he knew anything about it. He didn’t know what you were, yet. He couldn’t describe his feelings for you. It was something beyond words, which scared him.

“Do you think you’re going to take her to the New Year’s Party?” Suguru’s voice shakes Satoru out of his thoughts.

“What? I think I’m taking Mei Mei or something. Mother’s orders.”

“Mother’s orders?”

“Dude, I don’t know. She was like, assigned to me months ago. I still don’t get why it’s such a big deal for the clan, but Mei Mei and her family are close to the family or whatever.”

“I just thought you would bring Y/N, s’all.”

“Why?” Satoru asks.

Suguru smiles, giving him a knowing look before he rolls his eyes.

“You like her.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to lie to me, dude. I figured you were fucking her since she started hanging out with us.”

“She’s… my friend,” Satoru defends. His brain feels fucking scrambled. “My oldest friend.”

“Okay,” Suguru chuckles. “I was kind of thinking of asking her, then.”

“To– to what? The party?”

“Yeah.”

Satoru sits up from Suguru’s lap.

“It’s not really her scene.”

“She hangs out with you, I’m sure she can handle a little party thrown by your family.”

“It’s not little. It’s—fucking annoying and extravagant. I literally only go because I have to and there’s always an open bar,” Satoru prattles. “I thought you’d take Shoko.”

“Jesus, then I’d have to take care of her drunk ass. She’d probably want to get wasted with Utahime anyway. You know how much she wants to fuck her.”

Satoru is screaming in his head. If his worlds collide more than they already have, he might just break open completely. He straightens his posture in an attempt to not appear particularly haughty, though he knows Suguru can probably see right through him.

He makes a non-committal noise, stone-faced when he looks at his friend. He hides his face as he rolls his eyes.

His tone is bored, lips quirking in a bitter smile.

“Right, okay,” Satoru yawns. “Do whatever you want.”

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

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toomuchracket · 5 months

Text

all i want for christmas (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

back from the dead (a depressive episode) with a fluffy pre-dating fic that's honestly longer than it needs to be. whatever. it's christmas. this fic is also part of christmas75/twelve days of christmas, organised and curated by my lovely friend @abiiors. hope you all enjoy <3

wednesday, 3:34am

as soon as the “email sent” pop-up appears, you feebly close your laptop and lay your head on the desk, ready to finally give in to the sleep that's been edging ever closer to your eyelids for the past hour. but before you get the chance, your phone buzzes with an incoming notification, the vibrations rattling through the wood of the desk and into your skull.

swearing, your voice scratchy with underuse, you open one eye and tilt the screen towards you - the name it bears above the unread text makes you shoot back up to a sitting position, and knocks all traces of grumpiness and tiredness from your brain and body.

matty.

pointedly ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when you see he's opened his message with hi, darling, you continue reading: hope you're alright, and that the new book isn't kicking your arse too much. saw a group of kids in barnes & noble raving about your last one earlier. would've joined them if i wasn't in a hurry, to be honest. fucking brilliant. anyway, i know it's late, but i had to text you before i forgot. can you give me a call when you get this, darling? flying home early tomorrow so i'll be up from about… 8am your time? i've got a favour to ask you. nothing crazy, though, and nothing urgent. but yeah, just phone me when you can. thanks, darling. miss you, talk to you soon. bye! X

just as you're reeling from the three darlings and the kiss and the miss you, another text from your best friend comes in, accompanied by a photo: also look at who you were next to on this display. i got so excited. my three favourites!

you laugh out loud, a combination of shock at the fact your collection is between slouching towards bethlehem and consider the lobster and adoration at matty's beaming face next to it all. fuck, he's cute.

so cute. enough for you to forget that it’s 3 o'clock in the morning, and happily pick up your phone and dial his number - you've spent so much time poring over your message threads that you know it off by heart - as if it was mid-afternoon. you kick your legs back and forth as the call connects, smiling to yourself at the thought of hearing his voice for the first time in over a month.

luckily, you don't have long to wait; your heart flutters as he picks up on the second ring, voice thick in the way it only goes when he's smoking. “you know, you didn't have to call me right away, darling. thought you'd have been asleep. but hiya!”

“hi, matty,” you smile. “and come on, it's deadline week, of course my sleep schedule is fucked. questioning why i'm not asleep, christ, thought you knew me better than that.”

he takes your teasing in good faith. “i do, darling, i do know you,” matty's voice is soft, his tone as tender as you've ever heard it. it's driving you batshit insane. “but you know me. i just want to make sure you're not stressing yourself out about your work too much. rather have my best friend's wellbeing intact than another book, even though your writing is my favourite. speaking of, that display! i'm recreating it at home. genuinely. s'amazing.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “i can't even comprehend that display right now, m'too tired. but i’ll text you my thoughts once they make sense. and i'm alright, matty, honest. please don't worry about me, lovely.”

“that'll never happen, and you know it.”

“god, you're obstinate. but thanks. i appreciate the care.”

“even when you're insulting me, you're so eloquent. you've got a gift,” matty laughs down the phone. “how's deadline week going, anyway?”

“it's done. just sent the final draft away for edits. s'why i'm still up, actually.”

“really? congrats, darling!” the genuine happiness in his tone makes your heart hurt. “god, i wish i was home now, so we could go out and celebrate.”

“me too. but we'll see each other this weekend for early christmas dinner, yeah?”

“that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually. you know those roast potatoes you made last year?”

“you mean the ones you and alexa fought over the last spoonful of?” you laugh, remembering the two of them racing to the tiny kitchen in your flat to try and nab them.

“m'still fucking fuming that she got them. bitch,” matty grumbles, then giggles. “nah, she's like my sister, i love her. but yeah, those potatoes. can i have the recipe for them, please?”

you suck air in through your teeth. “well… no. that’s a family secret, lovely. m'sorry.”

“oh,” matty sounds so genuinely deflated that you could cry - you seldom see him upset, but the thought of his pretty face all sad makes you feel incredibly guilty. “that's alright, darling, i understand. my nana was the same with her soup recipes. you'd have to marry me if you wanted them.”

you hum out a laugh, brain suddenly scrambled at the thought of walking down the aisle towards him. god. get a grip!

scrunching your eyes closed and blinking them open again - a tried and tested way to stop yourself going off on tangents - an idea pops into your head, so obvious that you’re not sure why you haven't suggested it already. “well, in lieu of us getting hitched within the next week,” you smile, enjoying the way matty laughs softly at the other end of the line. “i could come over early to yours and make the potatoes for you, if you'd like?”

“i quite like the sound of the first option, to be honest…”

what the fuck?! you have to clap a hand over your mouth to stop a gasp. or a scream. perhaps even a moan.

“...but i'm more than happy with the second one. thank you, darling,” matty's smile is as audible as his relief. “you're a lifesaver and a legend. come over whenever on sunday, yeah? wake me up if you have to. actually, no, i'll pick you up. s'the least i could do to thank you. and it means we get to spend even more time together.”

“that sounds nice,” you all but sigh into your phone. “i'm excited to see everyone.”

mostly you, though.

“as am i, darling,” matty yawns. it's the cutest sound you've ever heard. for fuck's sake. “m'not bored talking to you, honest, just tired. this is actually the most fun i've had in weeks, this phone call.”

you want to assume he's lying out of politeness, but something in your brain tells you he's being sincere; it's not like you can say anything to dispute him, either, given it's also the most fun you've had in weeks. “matty, you’re in new york. at christmas time.”

“yeah, alone! s'boring. macaulay culkin made it seem a lot more fun when i was a kid,” matty snorts. “plus, i saw you the last time i was here. any trip you're not on is just automatically a bad one.”

christ, what is with him today? “flatterer,” you smirk, before grimacing and continuing to talk. “but i assume you've not been… totally alone, the whole time? i don't like the thought of that being the case.”

you hope to god he's too tired to pick up on your actual meaning; the sight of him with another girl isn’t unfamiliar to you, but that isn’t to say you don't mind it. quite the opposite, in fact.

thank christ, he misses it. “no, i’ve been good. slept by myself every night,” he laughs.

you giggle, relieved. “really? wow.”

“why are you surprised at that?”

“you're you, matty.”

“yeah, well, i'm going through a metamorphosis-”

“kafkaesque of you.”

“knew that one was coming as soon as i said it,” matty sighs. “but in all seriousness, in the past couple of months, i've just… fully realised what i want in life, you know? and it's not what i used to want, or get up to.”

interesting. “well, that's good. m'happy for you, lovely.”

“yeah, thanks. and what about you, miss? you, um, bringing anyone to christmas dinner?”

you snort. “obvs not.”

matty hums. “why'd you say it like that?”

“like what?”

“like,” he pauses, trying to find the words. you can just picture the shape of his eyebrows as he does. “derisively. as if it's a silly question.”

“because it is a silly question, matty.”

“is it?”

“yeah,” you giggle. “i wouldn't even have time for a one night stand, let alone a relationship. not that there's anyone particularly interested, right now, anyway.”

“oh, there is,” comes the reply. “there really is.”

“if you say so.”

“believe me, darling, people want you. they're down bad. totally in love with you.”

“oh, you are so high right now, aren't you?”

“i mean, yeah. but i'm right!”

“uh huh,” you smirk. “i think you need your bed, matty.”

“pot, kettle.”

“alright, point taken,” you peel yourself off your chair, joints cracking slightly worryingly as you stand and pad across the flat to your room. “i'm going there now.”

matty sighs happily. “good. but send me a selfie as proof. accountability and all.”

it's an innocent enough ask, and not a totally unprecedented one - in the times where your self-neglect was at its worst, you would send matty and your other friends selfies so they could make sure you were alright - but the concept of sending matty a late-night pic from your bed does something quite odd to your brain and stomach.

still, you’ll oblige. but will he?

matty giggles when you ask him as much. “yeah, i'll send you one in return. i'm all about reciprocation, me.”

the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “good to know.”

he laughs, that stupid hyena cackle of his that might be your favourite sound in the world. “christ, i've missed you.”

“it's reciprocated,” you smile, switching your phone between hands as you get into bed and hissing quietly at how cold the sheets are. “alright, i'm in my bed. and you should be too.”

“you're right, i should be,” matty says. his voice is lower than you've ever heard it, the rasp of his cigarettes prominent; despite yourself, it goes straight between your legs. “soon, though, darling. promise.”

“good,” your voice comes out breathier than expected, a setting you haven't used in some time. “i think we both need it.”

“yeah, i think we do, too,” matty yawns again, following it up with a sigh. “right. i'm going to hang up now, darling. i really don't want to, but i feel like if i don't then one of us is gonna fall asleep before we can exchange pics. and i can't be having that, honestly. miss looking at you.”

you giggle, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs back and forth. jesus christ, what is this man doing to you? “don't get too excited, i look like shit.”

well, you've looked worse lately - you at least showered and clipped your hair up and put on a clean outfit today. but still, far less glamorous than matty's used to.

or not - “i've literally held your hair back while you yoshed in a plant pot, darling, i think you're alright.”

“and on that note, let's wrap it up,” you laugh, rolling back to lie down. “what time should i be ready for on sunday?”

“oh, um… half twelve? that should be enough time to get everything sorted.”

“half twelve it is,” you yawn. “ok. bedtime. have a safe flight, lovely. talk soon?”

“‘course. don't forget that selfie, by the way. eagerly awaiting it.”

“et toi. lots of love, see you soon.”

“back at you, darling. goodnight.”

the call ends. you close your eyes and, for the briefest of moments, let yourself dwell on the fact your best friend - who, let's be honest, you have a bit of a crush on - shamelessly flirted with you to the point of bordering on phone sex, and let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance he might feel the same way you do.

but it's matty. sweet, cheeky, affectionate matty, who'd find a way to flirt with a brick wall if he was bored enough. because that's what he is, really - bored, high, alone on a phone call with a girl late at night. it's just a natural thing for him to do in those circumstances. you're not special, you were just… there.

that notion stings more than you expected. but you persevere, opening your camera and fixing your glasses. he's your best friend, after all, and he asked you to do this to make sure you were alright. nothing more than that.

still, as you close your eyes and smile, you hold the phone with both hands so your boobs push ever so slightly more together. just in case. then you caption the pic as requested, and hit send.

matty’s reply buzzes in a few seconds later, eliciting a shocked giggle from your lips: fucking love it when you wear your glasses. a follow-up appears in another few seconds: if that's you looking like shit… you're defo the sexiest bit of shit i've ever seen.

fuck him for getting you flustered like this. honestly, fuck him.

and, oh, when he sends a selfie in return, shirtless in low light, hair in its natural state, one hand behind his head… don't you want to do just that?

you bite your lip as you compose your response: my condolences to the single girls in nyc who are missing out on you looking like that tonight.

matty: i know, poor them lol. but their loss is one specific single girl in london’s gain, though, yeah?

you: fuck yeah

matty: you crack me up

matty: miss you sm

matty: anyway, sweet dreams. see you in them, i hope

matty: but see you irl on sunday lol xx

you: miss you too, lovely. goodnight xx

***

sunday, 12:56pm

a mass of black fur rams into your legs as soon as you step through matty's front door. you laugh, dropping your bags and crouching to pet an over-excited mayhem, while matty grumbles behind you. “at least let her get in the house, mayhem, christ!”

“don't listen to him,” you coo at the dog, nuzzling into you quite adorably. “i'm just as happy to see you as you are to see me, baby. got a present for you and everything.”

“you did not buy the dog a christmas present,” matty groans, gently pulling the coat from your shoulders.

“of course i did. got you one as well.”

“thought we agreed we weren't doing presents this year?”

“well, i'm a dirty liar,” you brush down your dress and turn to face matty, smiling. “that, and i saw something when i was in glasgow that i couldn't resist getting you.”

matty's eyes widen near-imperceptibly as he takes in the dark red fabric clinging to you like a second skin, raking up and down your body almost too quickly for you to clock.

almost. you bite back a smirk. got him!

much to your chagrin, though, he recovers quickly and turns the tables. “well, it's difficult to keep control when you see something… attractive,” he murmurs, gaze lifting to meet yours. “i like that dress, darling, you look gorgeous. and,” his tone and face brighten. “i actually got you a gift, too.”

the revelation is just as shocking as the way he looked at you is. “you did?”

“we're both dirty liars, it seems,” matty grins. he nods towards the kitchen. “make yourself comfortable in there, darling, and i'll go and get it. only be two minutes, promise, and then i'll help you find whatever you need, yeah?”

“you've not done a mad rearranging of your kitchen cupboards since the last time we all came over for dinner, have you?”

“nah.”

you wave nonchalantly. “then i'm good, i know where everything i need is.”

matty smiles down at you - there's an expression in his eyes that you can't quite name - and gently nudges you down the hall. his hand is light against your back, but it sends shockwaves through your nervous system regardless. “alright. give me a shout if you need anything, though, please.”

“i will, lovely,” you smile back just as sweetly. “want me to put some christmas music on? get into the festive spirit and all?”

“anything but band aid.”

you laugh, and matty joins in. “i was thinking more sinatra, anyway.”

“perfect.”

and that's exactly how he'd describe the scene in the kitchen he walks into thirty minutes later. the room is warm, made cosy by the oven that's been slow-cooking turkey for a little while now, soundtracked by frank crooning out have yourself a merry little christmas. mayhem snoozes in his bed by the massive window, which shows snow dusting over the garden like icing sugar on a cake, and then there's you. still keeping an eye on the potatoes bubbling on the hob, you sway gently to the music as you pour dried spices and seasonings into a bowl, your face as content as matty feels.

it breaks into a big smile when you see him in the doorway, white dress shirt hugging his chest quite deliciously. “oh! you got changed. i like it.”

“had to keep up with you, didn't i?” matty smiles, wandering into the room and laying a gift bag on the counter. he peers into the pan of potatoes. “thank you for doing this, by the way, darling. means a lot.”

he opens his arms, and you slot into them before they wrap around you tightly, resting your chin on matty's shoulder and smiling. “no one else i'd do it for.”

matty hums happily. “god, i've missed you. you're always a total peach to me. makes me feel good.”

“a peach? you've spent too much time stateside, matty,” you giggle, pulling away just enough to look at him. “thank god you're home for a bit. but thank you, lovely, i'll take the compliment.”

“for once, you'll take one,” matty teases. his face turns slightly more solemn. “yeah, m'glad to be home. it's a shame you won't be at any of the UK shows, though. i always like them more when you're there.”

“well, when hollywood calls, you have to answer,” you shrug, then smirk. “you just want me at the shows so i'll praise your narrative structuring again, don't you?”

matty's eyes close in bliss. “don’t tease, you literally barrelling towards me backstage screaming about midpoints and how proud of me you were is genuinely the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

“oh, shush,” you roll your eyes, suddenly shy.

“i'm serious! it'd be like joan telling you she thought one of your sentences had perfect structure. a writing compliment from you is a gift, darling.”

“well… thank you. and speaking of gifts,” you - with great reluctance - pull away from matty, bending down to grab a wrapped box from your bag. “here. joyeux noël.”

your best friend takes the present from you, murmuring a “thank you” and smiling at the tag addressed to him. he holds it to his ear and shakes the box, eyebrows raising at the slight rattle.

sighing, you roll your eyes. “just open it, matty.”

his face lights up. “alright.”

after carefully peeling the tag from the box and placing it in his pocket, matty tears through the paper and lifts the lid off. he squints at the sides of the smaller plastic boxes inside, before realisation hits and his jaw drops. “this is…”

“cassette recordings of ten blue nile gigs throughout the eighties and nineties, in their entirety,” you finish, smiling. “thought you'd like them.”

“like them? darling, this is- i don't even know what to say, other than thank you,” matty looks at you, awed, and pulls you into another tight hug. “how the fuck did you manage to get them?”

“the guy in one of the record shops i went into in glasgow was selling them. they're his recordings,” you say, half into matty’s neck. “and he'd digitised them, so he didn't need the tapes anymore, and he wanted them to go to someone who'd genuinely use them. remembered you saying you'd bought a tape deck, and i know how much you love that band, so… i kinda had to buy them.”

matty turns his head and presses a kiss onto your temple; while you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming in delight, he speaks again. “you really are one of the best people i know. christ, i'm so overwhelmed by how perfect that present is. i need a drink,” he pulls away and heads to the fridge. “d’you fancy some champagne, darling, before i give you your gift? you might need it, actually.”

“that's not ominous at all,” you quip, then nod. “pour me a glass while i sort the potatoes and get them in the oven, please.”

matty nods, pulling out a bottle of perrier and grabbing glasses to take over to the table, while you drain and pat-dry the potatoes. he hums along to the background music while he fiddles around with the foil covering the champagne cork; you smile, eyes flicking up periodically to look at his cutely confused face, then back down to the food you're currently buttering and seasoning. it's incredibly domestic, a cosy little christmas dinner tableau, so much so that it hurts your heart to think that life isn't always like this for you and matty. and mayhem, obvs, curled up so adorably in his bed that you have to resist awwwwing every time you look at him.

still, it's hard to be melancholy when matty's irritation at the bottle foil is so amusing. you giggle at his grumbling, turning around to look at him scowl once the potatoes are safely in the oven. “need a hand?”

“no thanks, darling, i'm- ok, yeah, please,” matty sighs, leaning back in his chair and stretching. you pretend not to notice the way his shirt rides up and exposes his hip tattoo. “can't find the tab on the foil.”

“hmm, let me see,” you wander to the table and sit beside matty, moving your chair closer to him. well, to the bottle. “ah - that's because there isn't one.”

“well that's fucking stupid. how are you meant to open it?”

you smile, swiping your index nail across the foil; it slices clean through, and you're able to peel the covering off the cork. “like that. these aren't just for aesthetic purposes, you know.”

“that was actually quite hot. let me see them?” matty gently takes your hand in both of his own, admiring the abstract line pattern on your fingernails, tenderly rubbing his thumbs over the gel. “yeah, definitely hot. let me open the champagne from here though, darling, yeah? can't risk these pretty nails being damaged.”

you bite the inside of your cheek again; this time, to stop from giggling flirtily. “have at it, lovely.”

“i like it when you call me that,” matty smiles, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and the cork in the other, and slowly twisting. “makes me feel good.”

“well, you are lovely,” you smile back. “and opening that champagne quite effectively, i must say.”

“learnt from the best,” matty winks. “you're right, though, it's a lot less messy. although i don't mind that, sometimes. s'fun.”

“yeah, me too,” you smirk, glad to be sitting down and not having to worry about your legs caving in at matty and his words. “kinda fun getting it all over your hand, isn't it?”

matty's eyes widen again, and the cork breaks free with a loud pop; before either of you can cringe at or make light of it, though, mayhem jolts awake with a yelp at the sound, and quickly runs over to sit at your feet.

you coo at him, reaching down to scratch his sweet head and reassure him (and berate his dad). “aww, mayhem. you scared the baby, matty! look at him, he's terrified! s'ok, sweetheart, i'll keep you safe. come on, you can have your christmas present to cheer you up.”

matty rolls his eyes, but he can't keep the smile from his face as he watches his dog eagerly follow you to your bag. “you know, mayhem, you're such a sap, honestly.”

“oi, don't talk about my friend like that,” you frown, face lighting up as you find what you're looking for in your bag. “aha! here you go, mayhem. merry christmas.”

the dog takes the guitar-shaped dog toy with relish, plodding back over to his bed and playing with it contentedly. matty leans to the side to look at mayhem's gift, bursting into laughter when he sees it. “fucking brilliant. that'll be his new favourite, by the way. but you're his favourite, so it checks out, i s'pose.”

“really?”

“oh, he loves you. he never gets so excited to see anyone else,” matty nods, pouring champagne and sliding a glass to you. “bet he'd enjoy seeing more of you. as would i, actually - i really like spending time with you, darling.”

you nod, touched. “so do i,” you raise a glass. “to seeing more of each other next year.”

matty clinks his glass off yours, repeating your words with a soft smile. you take a sip of your respective drinks, humming in satisfaction as the champagne hits your lips. you nod again as you swallow. “christ, that's good.”

“agreed. and now that we've had a drink,” matty puts his glass down, then leans back in his chair and reaches to grab your gift from the counter. he presents it to you with a grin. “merry christmas, darling. save the box til last, yeah?”

“ok. thank you,” you smile sheepishly, opening the bag and pulling out its contents: a notebook, with a pen tucked into the front cover, a book, and a thin, a4-size box. laying them on the table, you inspect each facet of the present in turn, starting with the notebook. “a parker pen? matty, this is beautiful.”

“that one's also kinda a congratulations gift for getting your manuscript in. there's a little message on the inside, too,” comes his reply.

you flick your gaze up to find him blushing, and it makes you smile even wider. carefully, you lift open the black cover, and find matty's familiar scrawl on the inside: to my favourite writer… this is for the next one. lots of love, matty ♡. a little giggle leaves your lips, and you reach for your friend's hand to squeeze it. “you really are the loveliest, you know.”

“shhh, it's nothing,” matty softly rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “the next bits are the good ones, really. m'excited to see you react to them.”

“better not keep you waiting, then,” you smile, reaching for the book; you let out a little cry of excitement when you read the title. “on beauty! i haven't read this since i was at uni, my god. thanks, matty, i can't believe you remembered me saying that! oh, this is amazing.”

“open it.”

your head shoots up. “what? why?”

matty smiles. “just do it, please.”

“alright,” you do as requested. when you see what’s on the title page, your jaw drops. “matthew…”

“oh, shit, the full name. am i in trouble?” matty quips, smirking as he takes another sip of champagne.

“no, no, just… you got zadie fucking smith to sign a book for me? with a personal message?” you all but sob, lip quivering, completely overcome. “she's telling me she loves my work? what the fuck?”

“well, she's got good taste.”

“matty,” you wail. “this is the best gift i've ever been given.”

matty giggles. “no it isn't.”

“i'm telling you, it really is.”

“nah,” matty gently tugs the book from your hands and replaces it with the box. “this might be, though. but you need to stop crying before you open it, though, darling. can i just…?”

tenderly, so tenderly, matty takes your face in his hands and uses his thumbs to carefully wipe the tears pooling on your lower lashline. at his touch alone, your breathing starts to regulate; the same can't be said for your heart or brain, which both go haywire at the intimacy of his actions, something not helped by him whispering reassuringly to you. “there you are, darling. you're alright.”

it's not a question, but you nod anyway. “thank you.”

“anytime,” matty lets go of your face and sits back; you miss him as soon as he lets go. “right. now you can open it.”

with a smile, you lift the lid from the box - it falters, though, as soon as you take in the words on the paper in front of you. “these are outlines.”

“yeah, they are. look closer, darling.”

you squint at the paper, a choked noise escaping your lips. “feel free… fuck off. zadie gave you her essay notes?!”

“she did. and told me to give them to you.”

“how?”

“well,” matty grins, shuffling in his seat. “i went to see her and nick while i was in new york, and i asked her to sign the book while i was there. when she found out it was for you… she insisted you have those. printed more off for me and everything. she thinks you're the shit, darling.”

“you're sure she didn't say i was shit?” you hiccup, sliding the box onto the table before your tears hit the paper and picking up your glass for a long drink.

“positive. she only had lovely things to say about you,” matty takes your glass and refills it, beaming at you. “so, yeah. bit of a weird present, i know, but i knew you'd appreciate it.”

you laugh through your tears, wiping your eyes and shuffling your chair next to matty's to hug him. “i really do. and i appreciate you even more. thank you, lovely, you're too good to me.”

“nah, you deserve the best, darling,” matty’s hand comes up to rest on the back of your hair, stroking it gently.

you wallow in the tender moment for a second, before pulling back to smile at him. “m'sorry for crying, christ.”

he shakes his head. “don't worry about it, s'cute. and you still look fit when you cry, so…”

“shut up,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

“really, you look perfect,” matty smiles, eyes soft. “m'glad you came over early today. not just because it means we get the good potatoes, but because we get to do this, have a bit of peace before everyone gets here. s'nice. really nice.”

you nod. “it is. thanks for having me. and for the gift.”

he kisses your hand. “anytime. thank you for my gift. and just for being you, i s'pose.”

“it's like you want me to keep crying.”

“well, like i said, you look fit,” matty grins. “but nah, i'll stop. let's have a nice time and get rid of this champagne before everyone else gets here, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.”

so that's what you do - sit at matty's kitchen table, drinking champagne and watching mayhem playing with his new toy, talking and laughing with your best friend. outside, the snow falls faster and faster, blanketing the garden in pristine white, but it's falling nowhere near as quickly as you are for matty. when the front door goes, you’re actually welcome for the excuse to leave the table, the kitchen, the intense care in those beautiful eyes that threatens to shatter your sanity and perspective.

it's your newly engaged friends, laden with more champagne and christmas crackers. once you've exchanged pleasantries, your friend sends her fiancé into the kitchen with the bags so she can interrogate you. “now why are you here so early? you're a little bit unsteady on your feet… oh my god, did you and matty fuck?”

“no! christ! and keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss, looking back down the hall to make sure the coast is clear. “i came over early to help with dinner. and we opened champagne. that's it.”

her eyes narrow. “but you want to fuck him, don't you?”

you open your mouth to answer, but pause for a split-second too long; she cuts back in again. “oh, you do! well, you should.”

“i don't just want to fuck him, babe,” you sigh, leaning against the cold concrete wall. your brain is screaming at you to shut up, but you can't. “i… like him. in a more-than-platonic way. like in a deep way.”

“so… tell him that.”

you blanch. “today?”

“yes! it's christmas. we've all seen love actually - it's the perfect time!” she quietly claps, beaming. “and you won't see him again until my birthday dinner, so if the revelation goes tits up… you've got two months to get over it.”

“really filling me with confidence here.”

“sorry,” she kisses your cheek. “i just like the thought of the two of you being happy, that's all.”

“i know, it's just-”

“darling?” matty wanders down the hall to you, pulling your friend into a welcoming hug, then turning to face you. “sorry to interrupt, but your timer is going off.”

“oh, thanks, lovely,” you smile at him. “be in in a minute, yeah?”

“alright. looking forward to it,” with a wink, he's gone again.

your friend smiles at him, then turns to you. “he is looking forward to you returning to the same room as him. how interesting!”

“yeah, because it means we all get the roast potatoes i made. that's it.”

“oh, you made those again? amazing,” she nods appreciatively, then looks at you and tilts her head. “he could still just be looking forward to being in close proximity to you again, though. wonder if there's any mistletoe around.”

“shut up, please, i am literally begging.”

she laughs, tucking you under her arm and walking to the kitchen. “alright, i'll leave it be tonight. but i'm just saying - i think you have to seriously consider that matty might want you under his christmas tree this month just as much as you want him under yours.”

“and i think you have to seriously consider that you might be delusional.”

“well, we'll soon find out, i'm sure.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #christmas75 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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iiseor · 7 months

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ lights | prt. 4

Summary: dating Ellie was a battle, but maybe her cheating on you, was the start of something new.

cw: toxic!ellie, biker!abby, fem reader, cursing, mention of reader having a breakdown, mentions of alcohol abuse, a poor attempt at hinted smut at the end i can’t write it for the life of me…

The morning was gloomy. The slight breeze and smell of crisp smell of rain flowing through a small slit in your window.

You woke up from what felt like a year long nap, to the sound of your alarm.

“shit shut up” you groaned, turning over and switching it off—your head pounding, your room a complete mess.

You covered your head again for a moment before finally rising, sitting up against your headboard and drinking some of the stale, warm water you had on your nightstand.

As you drank, your phone quickly lit up, the bright screen making you groan again.

You dimmed the screen before unlocking it and checking the notifications.

Seven unread messages.

Dina

4:30am

Hey did you get home alright?

Dina

4:35am

Ellie came into our dorm mad as fuck, so I’m assuming you two talked

Dina

4:40am

message me in the morning

Unknown

4:50am

Hey y/n…it’s sai, I got your number from ellies phone while she was asleep, she came back here last night

Unknown

4:55am

That sounds creepy….but I just wanted to see if you were alright, she left really mad…and while came back the same.

Abby

6:30am

Goodmorning

Abby

6:35am

Message me when you wakeup, so I know you’re alright. hope you slept well.

You put your phone down on your bed, covering your face with your blanket out of embarrassment.

The night before was everything except a blur, every second of it being recapped in your mind the moment you saw abbys message.

When Ellie left, and Abby saw you standing there—your body locked in complete shock, everything felt like a whirlpool.

The night had ended short, despite it being nearly three in the morning by the time Abby left. You couldn’t stand to make her stay with you, to make her comfort you the first night you met.

You were sure that Abby had made you feel something. what it was exactly, who knows—but you knew you couldn’t mess it up.

When she left, you were left with nothing to do other then drink your feelings away. The alcohol driving you insane, your nerves being taken out on anything around your room you could possibly reach.

Your anger being drowned out by tears, your tears being drowned out by the silent sound of slumber.

You uncovered your face, taking another sip from the warm water on your bed side, this time downing pain killers with them.

You slipped out of bed, still wearing the same t-shirt and shorts you wore when abby had been over, and ellie had left.

You grabbed your phone off your bedside table, stumbling over all the clothes on the floor and into the washroom.

Standing there for a moment, you starred at yourself in the mirror, then looked down at your phone.

You opened the chat, ignoring everyone else and only reading Abby’s message—at least six times before responding, almost immediately getting a reply back.

Y/N

9:30am

Good morning

Abby

9:32am

Good morning again love, How do you feel?

Y/N

9:35am

I’m okay.

Abby

9:36am

That’s good, do you need anything? I want to see you again, if it’s not too soon.

you didn’t open the text. you sat your phone down, Leaning over your sink and putting your head down for a moment before brushing your hair and teeth.

walking back into your bedroom, you sat on the floor and starring at the mess you had made. The hungover headache driving you crazy as you took in the sight of clothes, spread across the floor, and the leftover wine bottle on your table.

You drank nearly the entire thing, downing leftover whisky you had in the kitchen directly after, then adding nearly any other alcohol you could find. Not forgetting to make a complete mess of your clothes and bedroom before dozing off.

When you were finally done dissociating, you silenced your your phone and threw it onto your bed. You sprung open your curtains, the sudden brightness pushing through the damp clouds and making your eyes squint.

You instantly started fixing everything. You threw out the alcohol bottles, cleaned up the clothes on the floor and showered before changing the ones you were wearing.

Your mind couldn’t stop wondering. You couldn’t comprehend why you did this to yourself, why you were letting Ellie affect you in this way—why her words and actions had such a toll on you. It didn’t make any sense, you weren’t in love with her, after last night, you hated her. Yet there was still a feeling running through your veins, you needed something to take it all away.

Y/N

11:37am

Are you busy right now?

Abby

11:40am

Not at all

Y/N

11:41am

Can you come over please?

Abby

11:42am

Are you sure? I can wait, if you need more space.

Y/N

11:43am

No, I don’t want space

Abby

11:45am

Okay sweetheart, I’ll be there soon.

As soon as you read her message you rushed to your vanity, fluttering your eyelashes through the mascara and spreading clear-glittery lipgloss all over your lips.

You then studied your face in the mirror above, fixing your hair quickly before your phone dinged again.

Abby

12:00pm

im outside whenever you can open up, no rush.

Her message made you smile. despite her reassurance, you got up immediately and rushed to the door.

You hesitated for a minute, brushing your hands across the skirt and tight tank top you were wearing.

“Hi” you said, Abby standing in front of you holding a bag.

“Hi y/n” she replied, walking in as you backed up to hold the door open.

“How do you feel?” She asked, placing the bag down on your kitchen counter and taking off her gloves—the ones she always wore when riding her bike.

“I’m okay” you replied, shutting the door and walking over to her.

“Are you sure? Last night was…rough” She questioned, looking over at you—her eyes so sympathetic.

“Yea…just hungover” you laughed, making her laugh back.

“Ah, well I guess you can save this for another day then” she said, pulling out a fresh bottle of wine from the bag and walking to place it in your cabinet.

“Oh Abby you didn’t have to-“ you said, your words cut off by her laughing again.

“Don’t protest, please, it’s just a gesture to make you feel better” she replied, walking over to stand in front of you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked.

The feeling of Abby was close, causing you to nearly push yourself against the counter to be distant.

“Yea, im sure..” you replied, trying to look at everything but her.

“Have you spoken to her yet?” She asked.

“No, I don’t want to….or need to. I think she made it pretty clear how she feels” you replied.

Abby walked closer, pushing your hair behind your ear—the same way she did the other night.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, she’s a bitch” she replied, caressing your face with her thumb, Your breath growing heavy. Abby just, had that affect on you.

“Im just, lost really. I don’t want her back, it doesn’t even feel like we were ever in love. I want to forget about her completely. Sai messaged me saying she left mad, she came over just to yell at me and be angry, even though I should be the one angry that she cheated ” you rambled on. Abby focused on your every word, watching your eyes and lips as your head was faced down, letting the words spill out.

She sighed at your cracking tone, your emotions becoming overwhelming.

“Don’t get upset y/n….She’s not worth any of it, your mind, you, your feelings, she doesn’t deserve to make you feel this way” she replied, her tone so gentle and sweet.

She moved closer, lifting your chin up to look at her—your eyes slightly glossy from the mix of emotions.

As ur eyes met, it was as if she sent a signal to your soul. Her soft eyes making you locked in a trance, your heart beating faster then ever.

You both paused for a moment more, but before you could get a word out, her lips were pushing onto yours.

You pulled away for a moment to breathe, everything still pressed together except your lips—until your pulled her closer bringing them back together.

It was messy, Abbys hands gliding up and down your exposed thighs, gripping your lower body as she lifted you onto the counter, pushing herself closer into you.

As her lips made their way to your cheek, then down your neck, your mouth letting out quiet whimpers, her touch rendering you weak.

She made her way back up towards your jawline, placing soft kisses along it before leaning towards your ear.

“let me…show you how you deserve to feel, what she should be making you feel like” she whispered against your skin, sending chills throughout your entire body.

Her hands moved from your thighs to your waist, her lips a magnate to your body.

“Can I?” She asked breathless as she held onto the lower lining of your shirt.

You nodded at her question, so desperate for more of her touch, the slight separation make you deranged.

“words please” she asked, placing more wet kisses onto your neck.

“Yes” you let out through a shaking breath, the feeling of her tender hands against you making you choke on your words.

she lifted your shirt over your head, her hands drifting up and down your sides.

“Fuck” she let out, kissing you a few more times before pulling back, giving herself a second to take in every part of you.

“You’re so beautiful…” she said, bringing one of her hands up to caress your face again, your shy eyes becoming hypnotized by hers.

“So, fucking pretty” she added on, pulling you in again.

“Please y/n…let me show you how it should’ve been from the start, let me make you feel what she couldn’t. I want to show you everything you’ve missed” she spoke in between every press against your neck.

Every word she spoke only increased your hunger for her, you were completely melted into her presence, starving for more. Your mind dizzy with desire.

“Please Abby” you whined, your body longing for more.

Her hands glided back up your legs, each kiss becoming more messy and rough, your dorm being filled with the sounds of heavy breathing.

Your whines drove her over the edge, she needed more—and that’s what you gave her. Every moment was centred around you, which turned her on even more. Your pretty voice sending butterflies through her body at every sound.

The night was drowned out by the sense of lust. Anything you ever felt for Ellie, being inevitably forgotten by every knot tied around your stomach. Abby, full filling her promise of making you forget any touch that Ellie had every laid on you.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #tlou #🫧 sena #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #ellie the last of us #tlou part 2 #tlou fanfiction

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jacaerysgf · 1 year

Note

hii🤝 can i request an ethan landry ex’s to lovers fic where the reader and ethan broke up cause of ethans jealousy so they’re just kinda mean and sarcastic to each other they’re basically just still mad at each other while being broken up and so there’s a lot of tension between them like but no smut i suck at making requests i’m sorry🙏🙏

Second Chances

Warnings | best friend anika, ex's to lovers, very bad insults (im not good at insults), implied attempted sa, asshole when drunk ethan, slight angst but with happy ending !! not proofread

wc | 2.4k

a/n: hiiii i really appreciate the request i hope you like it !! sorry if its not exactly what you wanted !!

“Clean up in isle four a bunch of fucking garbage spilled all over the floor.” You turn to your coworker next you who rolled her eyes and walked away mumbling something about the back.

Ethan and the others had found their way to your work establishment. Ethan turned his head towards you and rolled his eyes, “Don't you have a job to do?” “I am working asshole see” you gesture to your work uniform and pick one of the items off the shelf just to put it back on. He shakes his head and makes a step towards you so youre almost face to face, “you're so stupid.” You mock him, “How dare you?” “There's nothing wrong with pointing out the truth.”

“Just make out already Jesus christ.” Tara, tired of the two of you, leads the others out of the isle, Ethan scoffs and turns away from you, giving you one last look to which you flip him off before he walks out of the isle.

Watching him leave sucks, you hate to admit it but you miss him. So much. The night two weeks ago is still burning in the back of your memory.

you were just at a party only maybe thirty minutes ago, you had walked away from him and the rest of the group for a quick second to grab a refill only to get stopped by a guy. He grabs your arm and smiles at you. You think his name is mark? You recognize him from your English class.

“You wanna be my beer pong partner?” You shake your head and smile at him, “No sorry i just need to grab a drink.” he sighs, “can i atleast get your number gorgeous?” You shake your head, “I got a boyfriend.” “I'm sorry.” He nods and walks back over to the beer pong table.

You make your way over to the drink table, “what was that?” As you pour a drink you see your boyfriend, Ethan, standing behind you with an unreadable look on his face. you smile at him before turning back to the table, “you know that guy mark from english? he asked if i wanted to play beer pong with him.” you laugh and fill up your cup.

However, you turn back to see Ethan have an upset look. “is everything okay-” “why was he holding your arm?” Your expression turns grim due to his tone, “um… he asked for my number, i told him no obviously.” His face didn't let up, “Ethan, I promise nothing happened.”

He scoffs and turns away from you, “you looked a little too happy to have said no.” You look at him in disbelief, “are you kidding ethan?'' He doesn't look at you. “I can't believe this, you can't even trust me?” he turns back to you, “why should i?” you open and close your mouth in shock, “because i'm your girlfriend? You know what, no I'm not. you're unbelievable i'm so done with you.”

He follows after you, you can see a stumble in his step, is he drunk? “Baby please-” You huff, “Leave me alone, seriously. Dont text or call me.”

He had left you a large array of messages and tried to call you many many times but all of them went ignored.

Whenever he would try to approach you in person you shut down any sort of advances with an ache in your chest.

You feel a hand tap your shoulder and you turn to see anika there with a sad expression, “you still haven't talked to him?” why should you? he was disrespectful and mean, despite how much you may miss him you will never let someone treat you like he did.

“y/n please just talk to him, you two are miserable.” You sigh and shake your head, “I don't feel miserable, I feel great.” you let out a halfhearted laugh before playing with the already perfectly arranged shelf, “sorry but i have to get back to work.” You see in the corner of your eye her frowning but before she can say anymore you hear Mindy calling for her to join them as they leave.

She walks away and you feel regret at the sad look on her face, you'll have to text her an apology letter.

One of your bigger regrets from your breakup is that you cut contact with the whole group, it's not like they wanted to but you didn't want them to have to choose. you watch out of the corner of your eye as they walk out the front door and you take a breath of relief. This sucks.

—

When anika invites you to go shopping at the mall, you are shocked to see her standing around with the rest of the group. Ethan standing further back in the group in a seemingly heated discussion with mindy. God this sucks.

Praying she hasn't seen you yet you try to rush away, maybe text her that you aren't feeling well but of course, “y/n!! over here!!” you sigh and turn back with a forced smile.

you slowly walk over and seeing her genuinely cheerful smile puts a real one on your face, “anika hey, hi guys….” you look at the rest of the group who all greet you except one. He looks to the floor as anika begins to drag you along talking about what clothes she wants to get today.

Soon enough sam, tara and chad split off from the group leaving just you anika mindy and of course, ethan. You are now walking side by side with Ethan as Mindy and anika hold hands in front of you.

You look over to him and see him already looking at you and you scoff despite the fact your heart races, “it's rude to stare you know” he rolls his eyes, “it's hard not to when you have something in your hair.” your hands immediately fly to your hair picking and pulling at it.

He stops you with a sigh, “it's here.” He turns you head towards him and your face heads as he pulls something from your hair and flicks it from his hand. You two stare at each other, his doe eyes softening seeing your face. You look down at his lips, remembering how they felt, wishing you could just grab his neck and pull him against you.

You snap out of it hearing mindy laugh, “god they're so stupid.” You see anika smile at you as you two pull away from each other. You scoff as you move in front of the group, “don't do that again.” You begin to walk away not bothering to look if they're following you, “not even a thank you?” you don't turn back to look at him, not trusting yourself to.

–

“Your outfit looks bad.” “is that the worst you have?” His outfit doesn't look bad. Hes wearing a fucking suit of course he doesn't look bad. It was Sam's birthday so you were all going to some really nice restaurant. you turn your body fully away from him as you all wait in the lobby for the table.

“the worst thing here just so happens to be your hair.” you hear him scoff, “you love my hair.” You turn back to him with an angry look, why would he say that, it's true of course but he has no right. “i don't like your hair just as much as i don't like your face.” he shakes his head and looks away from you with an unreadable look.

“your insults are really bad today. did you wake up on the right side of the bed this morning?” he finally looks back at you and stares at your face, you think he's looking at your eyes but his eyes are turned down slightly, your lips.

Before you can say anymore the table is ready while walking there his hand brushes against yours and you immediately pull your hand away. He looks at you with a frown before he shakes his head and sits far away from you. Good, you think no it wasn't good. It sucked.

–

You're at a party anika dragged you to, you hadn't gone to one since Ethan and you split. Anika decided it was time to get you out of the house so here you were. She ignored you anytime you asked if ethan would be there which leads you to believe he is which sucks.

You stare at the empty cup in your hand and sigh as you stand up to go fill it again despite the fact you are probably way too drunk and shouldn't be drinking anymore. You finally stumble your way towards the table, you pour yourself another drink and chug it down attempting to ignore your pounding head.

“Something wrong, gorgeous?” You turn and see Mark, the same guy from a few weeks ago, You shake your head unable to answer him and wave him off. “Are you sure? you nod again, putting a hand on your head.

“c'mon i'll help you to a room upstairs.” you feel in grab you and begin to lead you towards the stairs you try to push him away but he keeps a tight firm grip.

at the bottom of the stairs you grab the railing to stop him from pulling you up when you hear a voice, “uh what's going on here?” ethan. Thank god. He has a confused look on his face as he looks between the two of you.

“Hey man, I'm just taking her upstairs to rest her head.” you shake your head and look at ethan with a desperate look and he immediately steps into action. “I'm friends with her roommate, I'll just take her back to her dorm.” Ethan moves towards you to grab you but Mark gets defensive and pulls you towards him, “she asked me to take her don't worry man.”

Ethans face hardens, “let her go.” The rest of the group had made there way over to you guys and chad stepped next to ethan. “I don't see the big deal man-” Ethan ripped you from his arms and grabbed onto you as Ethan slammed his hands into the guy's chest. “dont fucking call me man again, leave my girlfriend the fuck alone.”

“are you alright?'' You nod at Chad and watch as Ethan gets in the guy's face and says a couple more things you can't hear before he rushes back towards you and holds you in his arms.

“are you alright? god i'm sorry baby, cmon lets go.” He lifts you into his arms and carries you out, not before he and Chad exchange a few words with a nod from Chad Ethan leaves with you in his arms.

It feels nice, for a moment you forget everything that's happened between you two the last couple weeks and lay your head on his neck. you feel his grip tighten as he pulls you closer, “i got you baby dont worry.”

You close your eyes and breathe in his scent feeling relaxed you almost fall asleep. He cursed to himself and you opened your eyes again.

You notice you aren't on the way to your dorm, “where are we-” “my dorm, sorry i didn't grab the keys from anika.”

You look up at his face and he looks down at you, he's so beautiful. you notice his face turns red and his pace quickens. Had you said that outloud?

You arrive at his dorm, “I'm gonna put you down for a sec, okay?” he only moves to put you down once you nod, he places you on your feet your body leaning against his and he opens the door.

He lifts you back into his arms and walks you inside, closing the door behind him. you feel his warmth leave you when he places you on his bed.

You watch him leave, wanting to ask where's he's going but he comes back quickly with a glass of water, “drink it please” you chug down the water, not realizing how parched you actually were he takes the glass away from you still don't making eye contact, “you can sleep on the bed, i'll call anika to let her know-” you watch him try to move away from you and you whine and grabbing his arm.

“don't leave me.” you don't want him to leave, all the nights you've spent alone since breaking up with ethan flood back into your mind and your eyes water why did being drunk have to make you so emotional. “please.”

His eyes widen before he sits down into the bed, taking off his shoes and yours before lifting up the comforter and squeezing in next to you. A smile grows on your face as he finally faces you, you run a hand along his face and trace his features. “I've missed you, I'm sorry, for everything.” his eyes close at the feeling of your hands.

you keep running a hand along his cheek, “what in particular?” you want to make sure he knows what he's apologizing for, now is not the time you know that but you need to ask. “That whole night, the words I said and what I insinuated, I was drunk. That's not an excuse I know but I want you to know I didn't mean it baby I promise.”

You nod your head, feeling sleep overtake you. “If you really mean it, tell me in the morning.” you mumble as you wiggle into his arms, knowing you already forgive him. He wraps his arms around you, “of course baby I love you.”

–

You wake up the next morning with a pounding headache. You groan and put a hand on your head, you should never drink like that again. You run your hands along the face before realizing you're not in your bed, oh right. last night.

you turn over and see ethan already looking at you, now sober you feel awkward “um good morning.” he smiles at you, “good morning.” you two sit in silence for awhile with him admiring you while you try to avoid eye contact, why was this so awkward?

“So do I need to go through the whole speech again or do you remember?” he looks at you hopefully to which you nod. “never talk to me like that again.” he shakes his head, “never.” you laugh, giving into your true desires and wrapping your arms around him.

“Does this mean I'm your boyfriend again?” You pull back slightly and kiss him, “does that answer your question?”

#ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry drabble #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream vi #scream six #scream #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n

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jae-bummer · 1 year

Text

Know Your Worth

Request: Hello, could I request #9 with Seventeen Woozi ?

Prompt:

9) "I don't want them. I want you."

Pairing: Seventeen Woozi x Reader

Genre: Angst

Your phone vibrated next to your plate, causing your friend, Ari, to eye it warily. "Why bother carrying your phone around if you never use it?"

"I don't know what you mean," you muttered, taking an uncomfortably large bite of your food. Strategically, this would keep you from having to phrase a rebuttal in what you knew would be an upcoming argument.

"You know exactly what I mean," she sighed, setting her fork on the table. She reached toward your device, but you quickly grabbed it, and set it further away from her.

Pointing to your mouth, you exaggerated your chewing before giving the smallest shrug.

"You're a menace," she groaned. Just as you thought she was going to pick up her utensils again and go back to safe dinner conversation, you nearly choked as she launched herself toward the opposite end of the table.

You scrambled in an attempt to get your phone before she did, but it took only a few seconds before you realized it was a lost cause. As she held your device, clutched protectively in her hands, she looked up at you with a grin.

"Who's the menace?" you croaked, finally finished chewing your last bite of food.

She ignored you and chose to unlock your phone instead. Narrowing her eyes at the screen, she looked back up. "What is your problem?"

"I mean, should we start with the childhood trauma or-"

"Don't be cute!" she gasped, flashing the screen in your direction. "Why, may I ask, do you have multiple unread messages from Woozi?"

"I cannot shut down my cuteness, Ari," you sighed, focusing fully on the plate before you. It had suddenly become much more interesting in the past few moments.

"Stop deflecting and tell me the truth!" she groaned. "I'm trying to live vicariously through you and it's really hard when you're sabotaging both of our dreams!"

You leaned your head back and tried to suppress a groan. There it was.

Reflecting back, the day had been just like any other. You had stopped at your favorite cafe for a cup of tea and ran into your friend who was not a friend. Jihoon was someone who you only knew by his order being called out by a barista, but in your head, he was one of your comfort people. You had a normal routine that he had fallen into. Whether it was waiting for your drinks at the to go area (in companionable silence) or sitting next to each other at the bar (also in companionable silence), you knew of each other in the barest of ways. He was an NPC in your life until he decided to slip you his number before leaving the coffee shop one day.

It took giving yourself a pep talk to finally text him. He was attractive and a great tipper (very important), but that was all you knew. In time, you learned he was a (self-admitted) bad texter, an emotional drinker, and someone who tended to keep his struggles to himself. The handful of dates you had gone on went above and beyond what you had hoped. Jihoon was incredibly kind, listened well, and was always considerate. His vibe was soft and something special that you could never relate to anyone you had met before.

Once you had finally grown comfortable with the idea of dating someone, you slowly began to tell your friends. It was then that their expectations slapped you in the face. You knew Jihoon was a musician and had even listened to his music before the two of you had grown close. The gravity of who he was, however, hadn't hit you until you started bringing him up.

"It wasn't my dream to date someone high profile," you muttered, shooting your friend a look. "I just want to be with someone in a normal way."

"He's still a human, Y/N," your friend whined. "I'm sure he's great at being normal."

"Yeah, but you're not," you huffed.

Taken aback, your friend tilted her head. Sliding you your phone, she crossed her arms. "And what does that mean?"

"It means that everything was fine until everyone started telling me about how famous he was!" you gasped, throwing your hands in the air.

"But that doesn't mean-"

"No," you cut her off. "It doesn't mean I shouldn't date him, but it made me realize just how much attention he got. It made me realize that he may be too busy, too famous, or honestly, too attractive to ever fall for me in the way I was for him."

"Y/N," Ari said quietly. You looked to her face and noticed her expression was remorseful. "I never thought my excitement for who you were dating would make you feel like that...I was more excited for you to be happy."

"Happy with an idol," you grumbled.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked. "But he's obviously texting you...he's showing he's interested. Are you really putting everything on hold because you have the dumbest friend in the whole world?"

"You aren't dumb," you sighed. "It's more about me than you. It just felt better to blame you."

"No, I made you realize something you never should have even thought of," she muttered. "Because you're the best and he could love the shit out of you if you let him."

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the sign dangling from the coffee shop that you had been regrettably going to for the past week. It felt awful sneaking around to places you knew Jihoon wouldn't be. The indigestion from the crappy drinks was second to the guilt.

Walking forward, you tugged at the door, and slid into the cafe. Pulling at the handle to close it behind you, you were surprised as it swung open again with force. Looking over your shoulder, you let out a whimper. Jihoon stood before you, white knuckling the edge of the door.

"So this is where you go to avoid someone," he said, deadpan.

If you could shrink into yourself and then melt into the floor, now would be a great time to do that.

"I'm not avoiding anyone," you whispered. The words already sounded like a lie.

"I never took you for someone who ghosted, Y/N," he sighed, shaking his head. Letting go of the door, he backed away, and let it slam in your face.

Shit.

Immediately pushing back outside, you were relieved to see he hadn't made it very far. Plopped on a bench, he was hunched over, and typing furiously on his phone. You tried to make yourself as small as possible as you walked over and plopped on the seat beside him.

"I know it may be a really bad excuse," you said quietly. "But honestly, it's not you. It's me."

Sitting up, Jihoon swiveled his head toward you and narrowed his eyes.

Yeah, you probably deserved that look.

"I've been in my head about us," you continued. "And honestly, my head is the worst place to be. All cobwebs and shitty coffee."

This caused a small smirk that ignited a bit of hope in your chest. If he was even the tiniest bit receptive, maybe he'd understand.

Actually, you were sure he would. He was Jihoon.

"I started talking to my friends," you grumbled. "Which was a huge mistake. They made me very aware that you were THE Woozi of Seventeen."

"You hadn't already noticed?" he asked. You could tell by his mannerisms that he was tired. Whether that was because of his job or you, you weren't completely sure.

"Of course I noticed," you sighed. "I just hadn't really...thought about it."

"I'm going to need some context to that one."

"You were Jihoon," you shrugged. "I knew what you did for a living, but that had very little to do with the version of you I came to know."

"My career is part of who I am," he said. "It's shaped me in a lot of ways."

"I recognize that," you nodded. "And I appreciate that side of you too. I guess I just hadn't really considered you as a celebrity or anything. You were just this guy I met at the coffee shop and thought was cute."

"Is there a reason why I can't be both?"

"Yes," you grumbled. "Because a celebrity and a boy who gave me his number are two things that could not possibly correlate."

"I am so terribly lost that I don't even know how you want me to respond, Y/N," Jihoon said, almost apologetically.

"You can't like me," you insisted. "At least that's what I thought. How could you like me? I'm no one."

Jihoon's mouth popped open and he stared at you as if you had just sprouted a second head. "Is that why you haven't been talking to me?"

"Well...yeah."

This made him openly laugh as he scooted closer to you. Reaching over, he took your face between his hands. Smiling sadly, he began to shake his head. "You thought I'd decide you weren't worth it."

"Or that some other person would come along," you said quietly. It was growing harder and harder not to nuzzle your face into his palm. "Someone more notable or better looking."

"I'm not sure if you've hit your head lately," Jihoon grinned. "But I don't want them. I want you."

"Are you sure?" you squeaked.

"Wasn't I the one who gave you my number?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"No buts," he said quietly, this time his face serious. "No if's, no maybes. You are worth every bit of attention I give you, and then some. You cannot equate your worth based on your lack of celebrity. Do you know how many celebrities I know who are worth absolutely nothing at all?"

You could feel the tears start to well on your lower lashes. You had been so incredibly clueless all along. You had learned Jihoon's heart and you should have known better.

"I'm stupid," you whimpered. "And I'm sorry."

Jihoon's eyes were so soft as he looked at you, like he could never make you understand. "You are not and don't be. Just talk to me. I know I'm not the easiest person to be with, but I will make it so damn worth it for you, Y/N. Just give me the chance."

Gasping out a choked off sob, you pulled his face toward yours. Placing a kiss firmly on his lips, you pulled away again to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks. Giggling, you realized you had gotten some on Jihoon as well. Reaching up, you dabbed at his skin with sweater paws.

Smiling like your chest would burst with happiness, you looked into his eyes. A smile was waiting there too.

Everything was going to be okay as long as you let it.

#jihoon #woozi #seventeen woozi #svt #seventeen #lee jihoon #woozi angst #woozi x reader #woozi fanfic #woozi fic #woozi svt #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios

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reallyverybored · 1 year

Text

Matching his crazy — (6) Jealousy || [Jang Han-seok x reader]

You worked until three in the morning, not getting any closer to the end of unread emails as they just kept pouring in. But Han-seok had enough of you not being in bed with him, so he came out of the bedroom to take the laptop away from you, even putting your phone on the coffee table so it wouldn’t wake you up. Despite being tired, you didn’t want to finish it yet, but he was persistent, so he just picked you up and carried you to bed.

In the morning he woke you up by placing kisses on the back of your head and neck, then shifted in bed to have access to your lips. You returned his kiss, your body reacting automatically despite still being half-asleep, but when you turned to face him, he pulled away with a smile then kissed your forehead.

“You were up late, I’ll let you go back to sleep,” he told you as he swept a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just wanted to remind you of our lunch. At noon. I’ll text you the address.” Nodding, you buried your head back into the pillow and wrapped an arm around his body. “Hey, I have to get ready for work,” he said with a short laugh before peeling your arm off of himself.

A disappointed groan left your lips, but you didn’t object. He could tell you would be asleep in a minute or two again, so he got out of bed and went to take a shower. Though he wished he could stay to spend more time with you, he couldn’t do that. As long as he played his role at Wusang, he couldn’t let himself get to work late. For now he had to be the goofy intern, the one who was eager to learn from all of those big-shot lawyers. With Cha-young gone, though, he wondered how things would go from now on.

After taking a cold shower, he stood in the spacious walk-in closet and looked down at his watches, trying to decide which one to wear today, but then his eyes fell on the smaller, more delicate watch on the side. It was yours, the one he had given you as a gift a few years ago, the very same you gave him because you assumed it would end up being a trophy one way or another anyway. But he would never hurt you, and he didn’t think you would ever give him a reason to do that.

The two of you were perfect together, he knew that, and you were the only person in the world he actually cared about. Being away from you after the break-up, after he had been such an idiot to sleep with a woman he barely knew just to mess with the man she was with, was the hardest thing he ever went through.

He missed you every day, he tried to call you, he sent you countless messages, but you ignored him, and at one point you even blocked him on social media. Until this day he had no idea why you had decided to pick up the phone right when he needed you, but he was glad you did. It just meant you were supposed to be together, that fate or whatever was working in the background wanted him to get you back in his life.

Once he drank a cup of coffee and was ready to leave, he went back to the bedroom to give you one last kiss. He couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. In the current situation his attachment to you was a liability, he knew that. But he wasn’t about to give you up, he just had to find a way to get what he wanted with you on his side.

The day went by, and in a blink of an eye Han-seok found himself in the small restaurant he chose to meet you for lunch. He glanced down at his watch and noted that you were late. It wasn’t like you, you were known for being punctual. Letting out a sigh, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialed your number, but just as it told him the line was busy, his eyes finally fell on you.

You were gorgeous in the royal blue dress you wore, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He stood up to greet you, happy to let everyone know you were coming to meet him, but you were on the phone and your attention wasn’t fully on him. When you got within earshot, though, you quickly ended the call you were in, then wrapped your arms around his body. He wondered who you were talking to, after all it was late night back in the States.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked you as you both sat down.

Nodding, you reached for the water bottle and poured yourself a glass. “But I hated that you left me there like that.”

“I thought you were half-asleep,” Han-seok noted with a smirk. You gave him a pointed look over your glass. “Anyway,” he spoke up again, changing the subject. “Today we will celebrate. They made me a partner at Wusang.”

You carefully put down the glass and watched him with a curious look on your face. “Why? I thought you didn’t want to be in the spotlight,” you told him with your head sweetly tilted to the side.

He reached out to take your hand, his thumb drawing circles into your skin. He wanted to trust you, he truly did, but until he figured out who you were talking to on the phone when you arrived, he couldn’t think straight. Jealousy was clouding his mind despite his brain constantly reminding him that you were loyal to him.

He explained his plan to you, although he kept certain details to himself. Details like still looking for Cha-young to get information he might use against them. He knew you would overreact and assume he would make the same mistake again. You didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t interested in him, and honestly, he had no idea how he else should have told you there was nothing to worry about.

When he finished, you leaned back in your chair and took a good look at him. “You thought of everything,” you noted.

“As usual,” was all he said in response. For long seconds he watched you in silence, wondering what to say. The thought of you talking to someone else was still bothering him, so he took a deep breath and braced himself for your possible reaction. “By the way, who were you talking to when you got here? It’s pretty late back home, isn’t it?” he asked as casually as he could.

“A friend of mine,” you replied with a shrug, refusing to elaborate.

After all those years together, he knew your body language. The way you looked away after answering meant you weren’t really interested in keeping this conversation going. He wondered if you just avoided the topic or just had enough of him for the time being. He felt offended by the thought of you not wanting to be in his company, but since he wasn’t sure if that was the case, he didn’t say anything.

“I should probably go back to the office,” Han-seok said eventually, even though he didn’t move. He didn’t want to leave you, mostly because he didn’t trust you right now.

But you seemed relaxed, as if you weren’t keeping any secrets from him. “I’ll go back to your place and work a little. Hopefully I won’t have to pull another all-nighter.”

After he nodded with a forced smile, both of you stood up and he pulled you into a hug that was probably unnecessarily tight considering you quickly tried to push him away. So he let go, coming to the conclusion that playing nice was his best option for now.

The next days passed in a kind of tension that could hardly be described. With each passing day he became more sure that you were hiding something from him, but he didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t think you would tell him anytime soon, even if he asked.

So he wasn’t expecting to be welcomed by you throwing a bunch of photos in front of him in the living room, all of them having him and Cha-young on them.

“Care to explain?” you asked with a sweet smile.

There it was, the jealous side of you he hadn’t seen since you arrived. “I need to keep an eye on her and her friend.”

“I thought I made myself clear back when I got here. I had a bad feeling and look at what the private investigator found.”

Han-seok nodded, but he didn’t say anything. He wanted to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of yours. You had said you would hurt Cha-young if he kept playing his game, he remembered, but he wasn’t sure if you would follow through in a country where you had no connections apart from him.

You let out a sigh as you stood up and stood in front of him. “But I’ve been thinking. It would be unfair of me to punish her when you’re the one chasing her,” you said surprisingly calmly with a cold edge to your voice. “Now, I’ve already packed my suitcase, and I guess my taxi is waiting outside. If you’ll excuse me,” you began, but instead of finishing the sentence, you just walked by him and pulled out your suitcase from behind the couch.

“You can’t be serious. You can’t leave me,” he told you sternly, having a hard time keeping his emotions under control. When you let out a carefree laugh and began to head towards the door, he walked up to you and grabbed your arm to yank you back. “You can’t leave me,” he repeated slowly.

He was already frustrated because of being beaten in court on the first day, and now you were making things worse by leaving. There was no way he would let that happen. Not after he finally got you back. He had fucked up once and lost you, he wasn’t about to go through that again.

“Watch me,” you hissed as you pulled your arm away and turned to walk out of the house.

“And where are you going?”

“Home.”

No. No, no, no, you couldn’t go home, not yet. “Remember how you asked me to trust you when you talk to other men?” he asked, making you come to an abrupt halt with this question. “I’m asking you the same thing. I wouldn’t cheat on you again, you need to believe me.”

Letting out a loud, almost theatrical sigh, you turned around to look at him. “I still need space,” you replied. “Just for a couple of days.”

“But only for a few days and you stay in the country,” Han-seok said with a finger pointed at you. For a few seconds you thought about this, then you nodded. “Good. Promise you’ll answer the phone when I call you. I need to know you’re okay, I need to hear your voice.”

“Sure. Goodnight,” you said then left the house.

Once you got into the taxi, you asked the driver to start driving in any direction while you made a call. You tried to work yourself up, bringing out the tears and making your voice sound like you’ve been crying for a while now. By the time the person you called picked up, you were a mess.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you this late, but we got into a fight and I can’t stay with him. I–I could go to a hotel, but I don’t want to be alone after what happened. Would it be too much to ask to let me stay at your place tonight? Just one night, I’ll leave tomorrow,” you begged.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll text you the address,” the voice at the other end of the line assured you.

With a wide smile on your lips, you told the driver the address then put away the phone and looked out the window. It was a good start. Your dear boyfriend will soon learn that two can play this game.

#vincenzo #jang han seok #jang han-seok #jang han seok x reader #jang han-seok x reader #jang joon woo #jang joon woo x reader #jang joon-woo #jang joon-woo x reader #jang hanseok #jang hanseok x reader #matching his crazy

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petite-phthora · 8 months

Text

It's a date :)

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 9]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

Private chat nicknames:

RedHood = Jason

Danny = Danny

---

The next day, Jason wakes up with a yawn. He stretches, letting out a relieved exhale. That was one of the best nights of sleep he’s had in a long time.

Usually, the Pit’s bothering him, combined with hours of patrolling and fighting crime, usually getting injured as well, he usually wakes up sore and almost just as exhausted as he goes to sleep.

But now…

It was calm. He felt calm.

He didn’t quite dream, though that was fine, as he hadn’t had any nightmares either.

It was… refreshing.

Though, all of it is also kind of… unnerving…

All these good things happening?

The Joker finally dying, meeting a cute guy who doesn’t seem intimidated by him as Red Hood and taking him out on a date, the Pit barely bothering him, sleeping better than he had in years…

With all of that happening, Jason can’t help but wonder…

When is the other shoe gonna drop?

His good mood slightly dampened with disconcertion, Jason gets out of bed with a small grunt. He doesn’t bother to get changed yet, instead moving along to the kitchen to start on breakfast.

After taking in the groceries he has left, Jason starts making some simple bacon and eggs. He catches himself humming while cooking and abruptly stops, continuing his cooking with a small frown on his face.

Why is he feeling this… this… good?

Just what is happening with the Pit?

He’s not enchanted or drugged or anything, is he?

It’s all the unknowns that are making Jason slightly worried.

Are his emotions still his own?

He feels like most of his worries have been stripped from his body. He feels way more comfortable in his skin. He feels happy, content, tranquil…

He just feels so much.

…

But still no rage.

He eats his breakfast while he ponders over his newfound emotional state. It’s as he eats that his eyes land on his phone.

The Bats have probably blown up his phone with calls and messages in the meantime.

And the fact that he doesn’t feel as irritated or mad as he should about it is another point of slight concern.

Either way. Ugh, Jason still doesn’t really want to deal with it.

However…

After he has put his plate away, he picks up his phone anyway and turns it back on. Sure enough, he has too many missed calls and unread messages. And it seems that with his ‘online’ status, some are encouraged again and start sending him more texts.

Jason ignores it all in favor of doing what he had planned to do when turning his phone back on anyway, messaging Danny.

Just so that he has Jason’s number as well

…

And perhaps to plan another date meetup, he thinks with an involuntary soft smile on his face.

---

Private chat

RedHood: Hey, it's Red Hood. Just checking in and making sure you also have my number.

RedHood: In case of emergency, of course.

Danny: hi!! 👋😊

Danny: it’s Danny!! 😁

Danny: which you already knew..

Danny: obviously 😅 😅

RedHood: I do now.

RedHood: Who knows, you could’ve given me the wrong number.

RedHood: It’s good to have the confirmation that it’s you :)

Danny: ahh yes!

Danny: good point 👉

RedHood: So, I was wondering if you had the time to meet again sometime this week?

RedHood: I can show you around the city, y’know? Like I mentioned yesterday? :)

Danny: !!!

Danny: yes!! 😁

Danny: that sounds like fun! ☺️ 🙃

Danny: and very useful 🤔

Danny: it’s good to know where not to go 😌

Danny: so I don’t kill another clown 🤡

Danny: haha

Danny: not that I’m like planning on killing another clown! 😰

Danny: no sir, there is no murder on this agenda!! 🙅 🙅

Danny: clowns or otherwise

RedHood: Haha, I didn’t think so.

RedHood: It was pretty clear to me it was self-defense anyway, don’t worry :)

RedHood: Even if it wasn’t, it was the Joker. So who, other than the Bat, cares?

RedHood: And it’s not like I can judge.

Danny: ah, good good

Danny: didn’t want my first impression to be being a murderer 😅 😅

Danny: that’d be bad 😓

RedHood: You don’t need to worry.

RedHood: You made a pretty good first impression in my opinion :)

RedHood: So, when are you free? For the meetup?

RedHood: I can come pick you up at your apartment again, if you want?

Danny: oh yeah that’d be nice!! 😊

Danny: and uhh, lemme check my school schedule real quick brb

Danny: alright, so I have classes till like 12.30 today

Danny: but I’m free from then on 🙃

Danny: minus like, time I need to eat lunch and stuff 😅 😅

Danny: does that work for you?

Danny: I mean else I could probably do like thursday or something 🤔

Danny: if that works better??

RedHood: Today works just fine. And we can pick up some lunch on the way if need be. My treat :)

RedHood: I’ll come pick you up around 1 pm then?

Danny: it’s a date!! 😁

Danny: I mean sure, totally! it’s not a date!! 🙅 🙅

Danny: unless you want it to be a date?.. 👀

Danny: I mean did you mean for it to be a date?

Danny: is it a date? 🤔 🤔

Danny: I mean I don’t wanna assume 😅

Danny: and like

Danny: I wouldn’t mind if it was a date.. 👀

Danny: or if it wasn’t a date!!

Danny: wouldn’t mind that either, of course 😅

Danny: I just wasn’t quite sure where we stood 😓 🥺

Danny: and what the context of the meetup was

Danny: ..?

Danny: Red Hood??

RedHood: It’s a date.

RedHood: ;)

---

Jason goes offline and turns his phone back off, still pointedly ignoring all the unread messages and missed calls from the Bats. He slides it onto and across the table in front of him and proceeds to put his arms down in front of him, resting his face on them.

Soft smile still on his face and cheeks colored faintly pink, Jason closes his eyes.

It’s a date…

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #jason having no more worries and feeling genuinely happy and in love: are these drugs? am i drugged?#jason who never uses smileys unless to flip someone off: *uses smileys to hopefully put danny a bit at ease/make him a little less nervous*#oh and for those who are confused #Jason put Danny in his contacts as 'Nova'. In-chat nicknames will not be the same as contact names #also i love how it doesnt occur to jason that it might be strange for the ppl of gotham to see red hood going out during the day #like he planned the date as red hood and thats what danny knows him as and stuff #but still going about as red hood when going on an actual date + during the day and stuff doesn't seem like a great idea tbh #oh well

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

One Small Change

Sequel to One is the Loneliest Number, One on One, One Little Thing, Only One I See, One Thing Leads To Another, One Message Waiting, One Day Closer to You, I’m the Only One, Plus One, Ticket for One, The Wrong One, Number One

Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)

Saturday. You find it hard to focus on the mountain of work before you as the night before nips at the back of your mind. You haven’t even sorted through the mess of text messages waiting in your phone, the battery icon blinking neglected as you search for an ounce of motivation to start a new day.

Why did last night have to end? You and Jake didn’t play any more MarioKart. You hadn’t managed to catch your breath until well after midnight and you only just dragged yourself out of his dorm before two in the morning. Two!

You feel wild. Like you’re finally living your college life. Not just burying your nose in endless textbooks and dreading your next lecture. But that doesn’t mean that part of it is over. Nope, it’s sitting there staring you in the face, the pile of borrowed library books stacked on your desk and the half-finished notes littered around your laptop.

You grab your mug and peer into the depths, stained with the dregs of your first cup of coffee. You’re half-tempted to go down and indulge in a sugar latte from the Starbucks attached to the next dorm building but you haven’t earned much more than another generic pod from the shared keurig in your kitchen.

You resign yourself to the bland medium roast and emerge into the common space to set the machine to grinding. Your dorm mates are elusive, likely sleeping off their own Friday nights, as the nozzle chokes out a steady brown drip. You add a touch of oat milk and go back to your room, yawning before you take a sip.

Your phone buzzes. You can’t ignore it forever. You’re supposed to meet up with Inez later but you don’t know if you can face everything else. You still can’t believe Jake, but you're not mad at it. He only said what you’re too afraid to.

And he’s right, you’re just happy he said it all out loud. Professor Rogers was getting a bit too close for comfort. Even if he’s totally oblivious to it, you shouldn’t undersell your feelings. Easier thought than done.

You take your phone and plug it into the charge as the 5% warning chirps. You pause and scroll through your notifications, pulling up Inez’ chat first.

‘Meet me at mine @ 1. Bring snacks.’

You give a short confirmation and flip back to Jake’s chat. A dweeby gif of a cartoon cat waving and wishing you a good morning. He’s such a nerd but it’s so cute.

‘Mornin’ you answer bluntly, not sure how much you should say.

‘How ya feelin, champ? Is the crown heavy?’ He quickly responds and you chuckle.

‘W.e. If I spent all my time playing as an imaginary plumber, I might be just as delusional’

‘O we had some real fun last night ;)’

‘And now back to the real not fun’ you swoop up the camera and take a photo of your desk, sending it off with the message.

‘Boo. Should I bring help? Coffee?’

‘Pls. I can’t have u distractin me’

‘Bc I’m so fuckin’ sexy or because I got the best cuddles’

‘Ew stop’

‘Not wat us said last nite’

‘Got 2 study. U should 2.’ You make yourself key in, ‘txt later’.

You hit back and view the list of unread, Professor Rogers at the very top. You really don’t want to delve into that horror show but you have a meeting with him on Monday and you can’t really walk in with this hanging over you. You push your thumb down and the chat pops up.

Several messages precede Jensen’s brash response. ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Having a fun Friday?’... his usual niceties. But only one comes after.

‘Didn’t mean to overstep. Have a good night’

Should you answer? Reassure him with some lie? Or at least let him down easy? Let him down easy? About what? He’s your professor, not your friend. You close the chat and leave him on read. Let him take a hint.

You take your coffee back to your desk and sit down, chin in your hand as you scroll. An email pops up in the corner of your screen, a red exclamation on the margin denoting an urgent message. The sender both surprises you and doesn’t. Dr. Steve Rogers. It could be for the class.

You click and the wind spans the screen, the subject; ‘Lesson 1 Revisions’

You sigh. You thought that was all figured out. You went over everything, you made the changes, he said it was all good. You were already halfway through planning for your next lesson in Week Three.

‘Due to some recent Council regulation amendments to the curriculum, the introductory lesson for Winter term’s ‘Classic to Contemporary Literature’ must be revised to meet the new standards set by the Dean’s Office. See attached the most recent council legislative review and let me know if you have any questions.

My recommendation would be to postpone the completed lesson for Week 3 and design a new lesson to meet the requisites for Week 1. I am open to discussion. Understanding that these are last-minute and unexpected changes, I am open to meeting Sunday for office hours if necessary.

Please let me know if I can assist further and if you would like to meet.

Dr. Rogers’

You sigh and turn your head down, tempted to slam the laptop closed. You don’t have time for this. You have finals, you have papers, and now all the work you’ve done is essentially wasted. It seems almost too convenient that this has to happen now, of all times.

And Dr. Rogers… that sign-off? You lift your head and scroll back to the last email he sent to the class about the exam. At the very bottom you hover your cursor over ‘Professor R.’ Why is he suddenly getting so formal about this? Dr. Rogers, you scoff and roll your eyes.

Well, you can’t blame him for the council amendments. That’s just an unfortunate inconvenience, still his timing is a bit strange. He could wait until you meet on Monday when you’re not piled high with studying.

You rub your forehead and go back to his email. You sit up and type your response.

‘Thank you for letting me known, Dr. Rogers. We can discuss this on Monday at our previously arranged time.’

You hit send and exit out of the window. You have the holiday break to figure out second semester. Right now, you need to finish this stupid paper about Interwar Bavaria for Professor Laufeyson.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #mcu #marvel #professor!steve #au #avengers #captain america #the losers

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thebibutterflyao3 · 2 months

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Day 4 Prompt: Sunset @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 564 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Barty stared at his mobile screen as he waited impatiently for a response that never came. He wanted to believe that Evan listened to his messages, but after ten days of no contact, he doubted it. The text messages definitely went unread and Evan had blocked him on social media. Calls were all he had left.

Evan could have blocked his number outright, but he didn’t. His texts still went through and the line rang all four times before going to voicemail. That had to mean something. Maybe he just liked listening to Barty beg.

I’ll keep begging if he’s still listening.

He pocketed the phone and rhythmically tapped his head against the headrest. The constant nausea and burning pain in his belly that he’d tried to hide with a blanket of weed for the last week was catching up with him. Barty was fairly sure that he was giving himself an ulcer with the fatal level of alcohol he consumed every night and the stress from losing the only person that he could have loved.

Maybe, in another life. If I was a better man.

The white bottle of Kaopectate in his cup holder taunted him. He’d taken a few shots from it since he sobered up, but it seemed to curdle like old milk the minute it hit his stomach. Barty couldn’t actually remember when he last ate actual food, so that was probably not helping.

You’re a waste of space. Always fucking up. Ruining my name.

It had been a while since he was sober enough to hear his father’s voice in his head. Considering the insults were the man’s main form of communication throughout his childhood, it felt sort of nostalgic, in a twisted way.

“This one’s for you, Babbo!” he said, grabbing the bottle and taking another shot of the chalky liquid.

There was a residual flavour reminiscent of vanilla, but not real vanilla. He could always tell if it was the imitation shite.

After another shot, Barty capped the bottle and straightened up in his seat. He had to figure out where he was going next. So far, he’d driven all the way up to Scotland, then somehow ended up in Wales, and now…he just wanted to go home.

Well, his flat anyway. It was a far cry from any “home” he’d ever seen, but it was his, for now. He had to leave so that he wasn’t tempted to track down Evan. The compulsion was impossible to ignore back then. Now, he was starting to accept the truth.

Evan doesn’t want me anymore.

Barty was a shite boyfriend even when he put everything he had into it. He’d really tried this time too. When Evan wanted to go out, Barty took him to the best restaurants that he could afford When he wanted to stay in, Barty cooked for him. They watched sunsets together and fucked like animals whenever Evan was randy. He thought Evan was happy, so he dropped his guard and let himself relax a bit.

Then, out of nowhere, Evan showed up at the flat and told him that they were done. He called Barty a liar and cheater. The words cut deeper this time, sliced straight through the bone.

“He’s not wrong, just a little late,” Barty muttered.

He never cheated on Evan. It didn’t even cross his mind. Lying though…that was an old habit. One borne from self-preservation.

Next Part>>>

#evan x barty #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty x evan #evan rosier #barty jr #rosekiller #rosekiller microfic #slytherin skittles #marauders era

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lively-potter · 3 months

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— moon struck ; part 5

— genre ; strangers to friends to lovers, kinda grumpy x sunshine, fluff, angst, smut, angst with a happy ending 🥹

— warnings ; body insecurities ( mentioned ), eating disorder ( mentioned ), oc deals with a severe amount of anxiety and panic attacks, violence, smut ( later ), FLUFF, love struck jungkookie 🥹

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— word count ; 1.5k

— intro , part one, part two, part three, part four

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

river's pov ; two days later ; six am

Sullenly staring at Jungkook's unread text messages on my phone, guilt bubbled within my veins.

Two days ago, when we exchanged numbers, I had only replied once.

And that was all.

I was too nervous to even text him.

And I felt bad for ignoring him when he didn't do anything wrong – and I was sure to get yet another lecture for my behavior once Corey found out.

It was only a matter of time before Jungkook would come and drop off Moon before he went to work...and I didn't know what to do.

Sighing lowly, I hesitantly opened his message – one he had sent yesterday and gulped.

jungkook: how r u?

Something inside me fluttered at his words, but I pushed those feelings to the back of my mind, to a place I would more than likely never visit unless I was in the middle of a midnight mental breakdown.

I didn't like to allow myself to feel much.

Not even back when I was a young teenager.

I had never experienced love...or romantic feelings towards anyone.

Sure, I loved my family and my friends but romantic feelings...yeah no.

I was better off alone, or so I told myself.

My thumbs tapped lightly on the screen of my cell phone as I sat, cross legged, on the floor beside Sang and a couple of seven-year-olds. I sent a smile to the happy kids and handed them the baby dolls they asked for.

me: I'm great. How are you?

I bit down on my lip, debating whether or not my text was too unfeeling. I rolled my eyes at my conscience and typed out another message.

me: also, I'm sorry for the late reply. I was up late last night finishing up another order for later today and my phone died. I hope you and Moon have been well.

There.

Now my stupid guilty conscience can take a rest.

"You okay, Rivvy?"

I snapped out of my of daze and stashed my phone in my pocket.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the familiar matte black Audi R8 park in front of the daycare center and paled.

"Uh, yeah..." I muttered under my breath, feeling the air expelled from my lungs at the sight of Jungkook, dressed in a pair of black pants with red lining down the legs with a matching top.

As always, his hair was effortlessly styled and another pair of black chunky combat boots accentuated his figure and fashion.

I distantly wondered how many pairs of combat boots the man owned and wondered if I could ever pick up the nerve to ask him where he got them so I could get a pair for myself.

I was embarrassed to say that Jungkook and Moon had better style than me.

I preferred to wear clothing that hid my figure...so I wouldn't feel people staring at me all the time.

Before I knew it, I was on my feet and hurrying away when Jungkook opened the back door and disappeared inside the car.

"I'm just... going to...check on the cupcakes! Yeah, that's it!" I snapped my fingers, ignoring Sang's blank stare on my back.

In the background, across the room, Brett's roaring laughter was heard.

"You can only hide for so long, Rivvy!" Brett called after my scampering figure. I waved her off and skidded inside the kitchen. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I quickly shook off the trepidation of opening the text message that came through.

I know, Brett—no need to remind me.

I groaned and tugged the sleeves of my oversized sweatshirt over my hands and ducked down. You freaking coward.

I gnawed nervously on my lip when the door opened and Moon's excited squeals entered the room. The nervous lip-biting washed away at her happy squeals and my heart quickened in happiness.

Awww.

"Hey, sweet little Moon!" I heard Sang coo in the other room, "I've missed seeing your adorable little face."

Moon gurgled happily, another happy screech leaving her little body. "Riv! Riv! Riv!" her cute little voice chirped over and over. I could barely contain the awed noise that left my lips after she called out to me.

All I wanted to do was leave my hiding spot and cuddle the little cute baby.

My lips thinned nervously at Jungkook's rumbling chuckle. "You'll see her soon, baby. Okay?"

"Awwww! Lemme hold you, little Moon!" Brett exclaimed happily, more than likely already trying to hold Moon.

A cute angry cry left Moon.

"No!" Moon's favorite word other than 'Da' left her, "Wan' Riv! Da! Wan' Riv!"

A victorious snicker left my lips at Moon's blatant refusal of Brett holding her echoed throughout the room. I slowly left my hiding spot to quietly sneak my way to the oven, where the cupcakes were inside baking.

The smell of chocolate was in the air, and within a couple more minutes, they would be done.

The conversation happening in the other room left my mind as I put my focus in getting the cupcakes out of the oven, and onto the rack to cool. I'd have to decorate them later since the order was due tomorrow.

Mrs. Goode's daughter Sarah, the girl we had watched over a couple of times, had a birthday party tomorrow at five, and I'd promised Mrs. Goode that I would have them all ready.

I still had a couple more rounds to make, but I'd get it done even if I had to be up the entire night.

Sarah was such a sweet kid, and I put all my time and effort into making sure she had the perfect little cupcakes for her party.

While my back was turned, the kitchen door opened behind me. Obliviously, I slid on one oven mitt and maneuvered the cupcake pan out of the oven.

"Those cupcakes smell good." a husky voice spoke up suddenly from behind me. Being caught off guard, my heart shot out of my butt.

A shriek of pain left my lips the moment I jumped, the cupcake pan falling to the floor, and in my haste to save them, the mitt fell off my tiny hand and I grabbed the searing hot pan with my bare hands.

My hands burned like I was touching an open flame. Quickly I threw the pan on top of the oven and looked at my burning hands.

"Ow!"

"Holy fuck –" I heard Jungkook mutter from behind me. Instantly, his tattooed hands were on either side of my biceps, and twirling me around to face him. My head was turned downward, so I didn't see his face as he took both of my injured hands in his and observed them closely. "I'm so sorry — I–I didn't mean to scare you." his sad apologetic voice tugged at my heartstrings. I bit my lip as he led me over to the sink and held my hands underneath the icy cold water.

His front was firmly, closely pressed against my back, huddled towards me as his thumbs gently ran over my red palms.

I flushed a deep red at being so close to him and allowed him to continue to hold my hands under the steady stream of water. My head fell back, against my wishes, mind you, and rested on his rest.

The top of my head only met his pec.

Unknowingly, I allowed myself to bask in his touch, enjoying the way he was so close to me.

No man had ever been this close to me.

Ever.

And I liked it.

But I didn't want to like it as much as I did.

"I'm sorry, River." his guilty voice snapped me from my thoughts when the burning sensations dulled. "I swear I didn't mean to."

I licked at my dry lips, glad I wasn't facing him so he could see my blushed cheeks. "I-it's okay." I trailed off, "I should have been paying more attention." I added, not understanding why I wanted to reassure him.

"Still," he murmured, thumbs lazily rubbing circles along with my wrist. And I let him. The heat radiating off of him warmed my chilled body and I unconsciously snuggled against him.

Seeing this, Jungkook smiled above me and pressed closer, warming my body with his. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital? I-I don't mind," he suggested kindly.

Words left us. Jungkook and I only stood in front of the sink, water still running over my hands, both unwilling to part from one another.

While my head continued to rest against his pec, I couldn't help but wonder just why I was feeling...whatever this feeling was when I was near him – or even when I thought about him.

I didn't want to feel this...right?

This was something I had been agonizing over for months, and I was no closer to figuring it out than when I first tried to work through it.

Anxiety stole my breath away and I struggled to catch it back.

I wasn't ready for this.

And I wasn't sure I ever would be.

author's note ; ✨

hiiiii ~ ❤️✨

Thanks so much for reading!

#jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #wattpad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook x original character #jungkook angst #dilf jungkook #moonstruck #jeongguk

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mountingpulisic · 1 year

Text

DECODE

a/n : i just want to thank that anon that gave me feedback on my writings, it was greatly appreciated and i hope this makes up for all the cliff hangers :). the song is decode by sabrina carpenter

you're good at the falling, not the staying there

you're good at the giving too much then getting scared

you're good at impersonating someone who cares

and you had me for a minute there

mason’s behavior perplexed you nonetheless. one minute, he made you feel as if he was ready for a relationship. inviting you to his games, gifting you his famous number nineteen jersey to wear and introducing you to his teammates on the pitch.

the other fifty nine minutes, he ignored your existence and acted as if you weren��t there. after it happened a second time, you confided in your friend about it. expressing your frustrations about how hot and cold the footballer was towards you, giving you mixed signals constantly but expecting for you to drop whatever you were doing at the dime of a hat when he finally called after being awal for weeks. you felt foolish that you would fall for it time and time again.

but now I wonder why

I let your confusion keep me up at night

i'm so tired

re-read every single undertone and I

another sleepless night was upon you as you tossed and turned in your bed. mason had rung you before you laid your head down, saying he missed hearing your voice and to give him a callback when you received the voicemail. any other time, this usually had you going weak in the knees but not tonight. you started to fluster on why he was constantly toying with your heart, you were so tired of this recurring cycle.

overanalyzed it, front, back, and beside it

where else can we go?

there's nothing left here to decode

done lookin' for signs in the gaps and the silence

it's just getting old

there's nothing left here to decode

Mm-mm-mm

“ i don’t see why you just don’t block him, y/n. mason is obviously showing you all the signs that he genuinely doesn’t care about you. stop trying to decode every little thing he does and ditch the lad.” y/bf/n ranted angrily on the phone, tired of you always ringing her to bitch about mason’s odd behavior. you knew she had a fair point; however, you couldn’t simply just brush off the chelsea player. having mistakenly fallen for the charming brunette despite his odd behavior.

“ you know what they say, the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody.”

there's a weight off my shoulders now that I don't chase you

being myself, did that emasculate you?

learning from you that I can walk away, too

and you had me for a minute, too

y/bf/n had invited you out with some of her co-workers to indulge in the london nightlife, at first you didn’t want to go. work was keeping you exhausted, your brother was crashing on your couch and don’t even get you started on the million unread messages from mason. In a strange way you felt at peace not overanalyzing his behavior, or trying to diagnose what mood he was in when he had sent you a rather short text. feeling as if a weight had been lifted of your shoulder for finally realizing that mason was only playing games with your heart, you had agreed to y/bf/n invitation to join.

and that’s how you found yourself face to face with the one person you were successfully avoiding.

mason

“why are you avoiding me, love?” he asked.

he had successfully cornered you when you excused yourself from your group of friends to use the restroom. trapping you in the stall, not caring how it looked to bystanders. aroused by the sudden close proximity of your bodies, you gently pushed him back to create a distance.

“I asked you a question, y/n.”

“I’m not avoiding you mason, i’m just no longer chasing you. you had me going mad when one second you were telling me about how you’d talk to your mum about me, then the next i see you out on social media with another’s girl tongue down your throat.” you felt yourself getting teary eyed as you finally expressed your emotions out loud to him.

mason surveyed your expression, trying to pick up on any sign that you were just pulling his leg, that you actually weren’t being serious.

“love, i didn-”

“no, i'm going to stop you right there. you don’t owe me any type of explanation because you and i,” gesturing between the small gap you created between the two of you “we aren’t together, and i finally have come to the conclusion you are not in the position to be a boyfriend right now. so i’m doing us both a favor by walking away.”

with that you pushed past him out of the stall, leaving mason there flabbergasted at your actions.

mason knew dragging you along was wrong, but he was only doing it because he was scared. scared of trusting his heart, falling headfirst into love but fearing that no one would be there to catch him. he knew deep down you were nothing like that, when he first met you, you’d actually haven't even given him the time of day. Too busy worrying if your to-go order was going to be ready in time because you didn’t want to be late to your lecture.

mason was the one doing the chasing then, following you out of the cafe and begging for your number. you had given it to him after he followed alongside you towards your university, talking your ear off and listing multiple reasons why exactly you should give him your number. irritated, you finally folded, writing it down on a piece of paper and shoving it into his chest.

mason had called the number on the paper as soon as you started to walk off, causing you to laugh loudly from his actions of making sure it wasn’t a fake.

now he had demolished what you two were slowly building up, and he couldn’t help but to kick himself and feel emasculated.

There's nothing left here to decode

Mm-mm-mm

There's nothing left here to decode

Mm-mm-mm

maneuvering your way through the crowded club, you wanted nothing more than to go home and wallow in self-pity. mason consuming your thoughts as you pushed past the sweaty club goers, a few more steps and you would’ve successfully made it out of the club if someone didn’t grab your wrist and jerk you back.

turning around ready to bite the head off of the person who had the nerve to forcefully grab you, you fell silent when you noticed it was mason.

“Im scared, y/n.” mason confessed loudly to you, dropping your wrist and moving closer to you so you could hear him properly. “ i’m scared that after i let you into my world, you are going to regret giving the stupid footballer a chance. that you’ll end up hating me for being away so much, that you’ll hate me for all the online hate you are bound to get, i don’t want you to hate me.”

In your mind you sarcastically repiled, too late for that, but chose to keep silent when you noticed the few tears that had made an appearance in the brunette’s eyes.

“ i know you properly already do hate me but please give me another chance to prove to you that you could be happy, that you could be happy with me.” the words he spoke sounded inviting, despite all the bullshit he put you through.

time passed slowly in mason's mind as he saw the wheels in your head slowly turn at his monologue, silently praying that you wouldn’t just walk away and forget his existence.

“one chance.” you said, holding up your index finger. “you ruin that, there won't be anymore, mount.”

mason doesn't give a verbal response as he pulls you into him and gives you a passionate kiss. lips crashing into each other, he pulls you even closer when he feels you melt into it, your hands finding home on the back of his neck.

"you won't regret it, love. now come on, let's get out of here."

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #Spotify

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 1 year

Text

half past five high - Chapter 4 (Troublemaker)

pairing: Joshua x fem!reader, Mingyu x fem!reader (ft. Jeonghan)

genre: minor fluff, angst, rich people!AU, drama, suggestive - minors dni.

warnings: alcohol consumption, smoking, lying, lots of drama, mingyu is a fucking asshole tbh, social media scandals, mild nudity

word count: ~3.1k

summary: the grand day is here. but so is trouble.

Author's note: drama is finally here! many thanks to @flowerwonu for proofreading this mess <3

series taglist (send an ask to be tagged!): @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu @husbandhoshi @wonwoosthetic @boowanie @billboard-singer @gaebestie @aurumness @chwebychew

unable to tag: @jaeyux

--Day of the Exhibition--

The exhibition center is packed with staff running around, everyone trying their best to set up the final details for Joshua’s exhibition - and you couldn’t be more anxious about it.

“Liz, have all the invitations been sent out?”

“Yes ma’am, we’re only expecting the guests to arrive during the opening” one of the assistants confirms, doing her best to help you.

“Thank you, sweetheart, you can carry on with the rest” you pat her back, watching her walk away. You sigh audibly, your hands resting on your waist, when you suddenly feel another pair of hands on top of yours, turning your head around to see none other than Joshua resting his chin on your shoulder.

“How is the best PR of the universe doing?”

“She’s trying her best to promote her boyfriend’s hard work” you exhale, looking around the venue, all of the pictures now hanging off the walls, framed and secure.

"I think she's doing a wonderful job" Joshua pecks your cheek, "Try not to exhaust yourself in the process though, love, I want you to be stress-free and enjoy it tonight, okay?"

"Don't worry about me, Shua, I'll be okay" you return the kiss, "Besides, you know I can handle it, right?"

"Never doubted your skills, love" he hugs you closer to his body, "I'll leave you be now"

"See you around, Joshie" you bid him farewell for the time being, focusing on the tasks at hand. You suddenly remember you had forgotten your phone on silent mode and check for any notifications, your expression turning sour when you see a lot of unread messages from Mingyu.

mingyu_k: not you tryna do promo for your prince

mingyu_k: you look cute in the stories I'll give you that

mingyu_k: you'd look cuter with ur pretty lips around my dick tho

"Tch, that bastard…." you curse under your breath. Despite knowing how he texts and speaks when he's with you, it still irks you, especially when you're in such a close proximity to Joshua - let alone the venue for his exhibition.

Part of you wants to reply to him and shut him down, but the urge to completely ignore his messages eventually wins, so you choose to do that, sliding your phone in your pocket.

You do one last check around the space and you nod off to Liz, waving goodbye as you exit the center.

Right before texting Joshua, your phone rings and you check the caller, just a number flashing on the screen - but you know better to decline it, because you're sure as fuck it's Mingyu calling you.

You wave for a cab to take you home, hoping the ride won't be tiring, so you can get enough time to rest before the grand event.

Mingyu feels frustrated. And it's been a long time since he last felt this frustrated.

He knows you're busy, but it's not like you haven't dropped your stuff for him before.

One of the things Mingyu absolutely despises is being treated as a secondary character in his own game.

"The audacity of this bitch" he scoffs, throwing his phone on the couch and moving over to the large windows, enjoying the view of the city, casually sipping on his coffee and preparing for today's schedules.

His phone rings and he smiles when he sees a familiar name on the screen.

"Jeonghan hyung! It's so good to hear you"

"Good morning Mingyu! How's your morning going, model boy?"

"It's…hectic, I gotta admit"

"Busy schedules?"

"Yeah, got a LV photoshoot in an hour and I'm not even done with my coffee" Mingyu groans.

"Well, that's the life of a supermodel, Gyu, you gotta stick with it" Jeonghan chuckles from the other end of the line.

"Oh I'm not gonna drop this shit any time soon - too many pros with this job"

"Speaking of which, it reminds me - The opening of the club is tonight….and…"

"And you want me to attend?"

"Well duh you genius" Jeonghan laughs.

"Truth is…" Mingyu walks towards his closet, opening it to check his available options, "I really wanna attend because you've put a shitton of money and workload in that club and I trust your taste in alcohol"

"But…?"

"But I don't know if I'll make it, because I have to attend an exhibition tonight"

"Aw come on, you and your artsy shit!"

"What? I like photography! Can't I have a hobby?" Mingyu whines in protest, eyes shining when he notices a red suit and matching dress pants in his closet, taking it out and examining it carefully, devious thoughts crossing his mind.

"Hey, earth to Kim Mingyu? Are you there?"

"Yeah, still here - Gotta go now though, time is ticking and I don't wanna be late to the shoot"

"Okay, I won't pressure you, kid - Hoping I'll see you tonight!" Jeonghan ends the call.

Mingyu keeps staring at his striking red suit hanging in front of his closet, smirking like an imp, already knowing how he's gonna put it to use.

"I'm so gonna fuck up everything tonight".

–Exhibition opening–

People have already started filling the venue, their attention already gathered around Joshua's photos and you actually feel calm, after a long time, which is a wonderful change.

You can see the happiness and pride written all over Joshua's face, watching him discuss with some of the guests, congratulating him for his work.

All of a sudden, you hear commotion at the entrance of the venue, noticing the flashing cameras go into an amok, some muffled screaming echoing through the door.

Your blood runs cold when Mingyu enters the venue, dressed in a long black coat, a flaming red, fitted suit, a professional camera strapped around his body.

He notices you and locks eyes with you for a brief moment, before walking over to the pictures, seemingly looking at them.

So much for being calm, I guess.

Mingyu feels beyond satisfied with your reaction, watching you from afar, struggling to keep your perfect facade on, while every single guest in the exhibition has their eyes set on him, making him the center of attention once more.

He must admit, though - he enjoys looking at the pictures Joshua has taken, snapping a few with his own camera.

Fucker has talent, I'll give him that, he thinks with a small scoff, accepting a flute of champagne from a passing by waiter.

He takes a walk through one of the corridors, until he reaches the end, a large black and white picture of a body shadow sitting next to a window frame.

All of his blood rushes towards his head, the veins on his neck starting to bulge, his hand gripping the delicate champagne glass to the point it starts creaking.

He's getting mad, because the body shadow belongs to none other than you.

The amount of jealousy he's experiencing now is nearly pathological - he knows you're taken, he knows you're not naked in the picture yet he feels a borderline unhealthy possessiveness over your picture and indirectly you - no one should be able to look at you in moments like those, except for him.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Joshua's voice snaps Mingyu out of his trail of thoughts, the sweet tone making him mentally gag, but he manages to keep a neutral expression on, preparing himself to start a civil conversation.

"Exquisite, if I'm allowed to say that" Mingyu laughs, raising his camera to snap a picture, "You've done a wonderful job, Hong"

"Why thank you, mr. Kim" Joshua chuckles, "I'm glad to see you here tonight - You always had a knack for photography"

"True" Mingyu adds, instinctively looking behind him, noticing you looking towards him and Joshua, your expression unreadable.

"I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for her, you know" Joshua comments as he looks at you, sharing a small smile with you, noticing Mingyu's jawline flexing from the corner of his eye.

"Not everyone is lucky to have a muse like her" he scoffs, downing the rest of his champagne.

Joshua doesn't respond to Mingyu's snarky comment - he merely pats his back, walking towards the center of the venue, gathering the attention of the guests as he's about to speak from the podium.

“First of all, I would like to thank everyone who is here tonight, seeing so many of you attending this exhibition makes me feel extremely happy and honored - feels like I’ve actually done a decent job with these” he jokes while pointing towards his pictures, the crowd sharing his amusement.

“I’ve made lots of decisions in the past - I’m not proud of all of them. But there is one that I’m the most proud of - and that’s not ditching my first date with Y/N” he adds, looking at you with such fondness and love, your heart jumping at the direct compliment in front of everyone.

Joshua puts down his champagne flute, walking until he’s in front of you, right in the center of the venue. Loud whispers and chatting erupts among the guests, effectively covering the scoff Mingyu lets out, his gut churning at the still unfolding scene.

“It took me a lot of courage to ask you out for the first time and it took me double of that courage to ask of you one more thing” he gulps down, Adam’s apple bobbing as he bends down on one knee, taking a small jewelry box out of his pocket.

“Shua, what are you doing?” you ask him with a shaky voice, your brain short-circuiting.

“I think it’s pretty obvious, angel” he chuckles, opening the velvety box to reveal a beautiful ring, a small diamond snuggly sitting on the top of the silver band.

“Y/N L/N, will you do me the honor and marry me?”

Gasps and all kinds of surprised noises fill the venue, but it feels like you’re going numb, head spinning and blocking out every single noise, focusing only on Joshua.

“Fuck, yes, yes, a million times yes!” you yell between your tears, falling into his arms, your now soon to be husband catching you.

The crowd is cheering on you and the cameras go crazy, happiness and enthusiastic clapping filling the atmosphere.

But Mingyu is far from happy. On the contrary, he’s fucking fuming.

You've barely spared a glance at him tonight, not to mention ignoring every single one of his messages - and now you added the cherry on top. Or the knife through the cake, because he feels like he’s been brutally backstabbed.

He storms out of the exhibition center, blatantly ignoring the flashing cameras and the paparazzi microphones pushed towards him, ducking into his car and sprinting away without hesitation.

"Fucking hell…" he runs his hand through his hair, pulling it in frustration. He couldn't believe his fucking eyes - of all the things, a wedding proposal?

He knows you've been with Joshua a long time now, but something inside him makes him so infernally mad and jealous.

Who the fuck does she think she is?

Who the fuck does she think I am?

Those are the things running laps in Mingyu's brain now - he started this game, yet he got played in the worst way possible tonight.

"I need a fucking drink" he groans in annoyance, easily manoeuvring through the streets, thinking about his options to drink his feels away and then it clicks -

Jeonghan's private club.

Coincidentally, the opening is ongoing and he's already well dressed - a perfect situation.

Fifteen minutes later, Mingyu is parking right in front of the club, choosing to discard his coat and the camera, sliding out of his Mustang and making a beeline for the club entrance, flashing some quick smiles for the cameras covering the opening event, yet he brushes off the complaints of the people waiting on the seemingly endless line.

“Well shit, you actually made it!” Jeonghan exclaims as soon as he sees Mingyu walk past the tinted glass doors of the club, greeting the younger man with a tight hug.

“There was no way I’d miss it, hyung” Mingyu reciprocates the hug, ”Besides, I could use a few drinks right now”

“Rough night?”

“You could say that”

“...Girl trouble again?”

“Sort of? I dunno, man” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, a kind of stressed exhale leaving his mouth.

“Come on, Gyu, relax - The night is still young and you’re here to have fun!” Jeonghan pats his back, leading him to the VIP section of the club - a black velvet couch with a love seat, a glass table with porcelain legs and gold linings - fitting for a celebrity of his caliber.

“Try not to ruin everything, model boy!”

“No promises!” Mingyu yells back with a cheeky smile, making himself comfortable on the lavish seat.

He starts by ordering a bottle of Double Black, pouring glass after glass, drinking without stopping, in hopes to forget the events of the exhibition.

It hurt his ego - badly, at that.

About an hour and an empty bottle later, Mingyu starts feeling numb enough to enjoy the loud music, laying back on the couch, manspreading as he watches over the dance floor, the crowd drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other, without worries.

"Life's fucking good, man" he takes another sip of his drink.

Mingyu notices two girls looking towards him, giggling and drinking their cocktails, his chest swelling with pride, knowing how smitten they already are over him - the red suit was definitely an excellent choice.

He raises his hand, waving at them with a lopsided smirk, the girls reciprocating the gesture.

It doesn't take them long to walk over to where he is, both of them sitting next to him.

"Hey there handsome" the blonde girl left to Mingyu, the brunette sitting on his right.

"What are two beauties like you doing here tonight?" Mingyu takes a sip from his glass, looking back and forth between them.

"Exactly what you're doing, mister hot red suit" the brunette giggles, clearly tipsy from the way she's trailing her hand on his thigh.

"We're just here to have fun and get drunk!"

"Is that so?" he playfully raises his eyebrow, one hand on the blonde's inner thigh, the other draped over the brunette's shoulders.

He gets up and walks over to the bartender, casually throwing his black card on the marble counter, swiftly asking to charge the henny bottles on the card, along with the drinks the two girls ordered, returning to his newfound company within a few minutes.

“We could have fun and get drunk at my place, if you want so” he proposes with a devious glint swirling in his eyes, the other two girls immediately catching onto what he means.

They look at each other, smiling like two little devils as they pick their stuff and they put their arms around his waist, giggling about their newfound luck.

Mingyu waves farewell to Jeonghan before exiting the club, the older man exhaling dramatically before turning back to his own drink.

"This kid will never learn."

“Good morning, angel” Joshua greets you with a soft kiss on your lips, “Slept well?”

“Went out like a light” you smile back, heart sinking when your soon to be fiancé is so sweet with you, beaming with happiness and you're just…lying right into his face.

You didn't sleep at all last night - The image of Mingyu leaving the exhibition the moment you said yes to his proposal, a stern, almost disappointed expression on his face before he disappeared from the exhibition.

"So, what's on the plan today?" Joshua asks, casually taking a sip from his coffee.

"Hmm, I haven't thought about it yet, to be honest" you hum, opening your phone to do the usual scrolling through the news.

Your phone screen is filled with online magazines and posts reproducing the same pictures and headlines, your body suddenly buzzing with rage.

"Supermodel or troublemaker? Kim Mingyu causes ruckus once again"

"Kim Mingyu goes viral for his sexcapades"

"Goddamnit…." you grit your teeth as you look at the pictures of Mingyu drinking with two other girls, touching him inappropriately and then you see the Instagram stories posted by one of the girls, drunkenly dancing on his lap while he's smoking - most likely in his apartment.

She's half naked, holding a bottle of expensive whiskey, drinking from it and laughing like her life depends on it.

"What's wrong, love?" Joshua notices your strained expression.

"Nothing, I'm just….Ugh, remember that old friend of yours? Mingyu?"

"Yeah, he was at the exhibition last night"

"Seems like he didn't visit just the exhibition" you exhale, showing the articles to Joshua, a disgusted look making its way on his face.

"I don't like using those words for other people but…He's such a manwhore" he spits with a slightly venomous tone.

Joshua's words don't make you feel any better though - you were fucking this so called manwhore behind his back like, four days ago?

But now you're about to get married to your lovely boyfriend, right?

So why do you feel like rushing out of the house and going to find Mingyu?

Ironically enough, Mingyu feels way more jealous than you do.

The girls on his king sized bed are still sound asleep, but he has never felt so restless and jealous before.

You were supposed to be his and his only - but you just discarded him like a torn shirt, rushing back to your charming prince.

"Fucking bitch…" he scoffs, downing his umpteenth glass of scotch, groaning in annoyance when he realizes the bottle is now empty.

Mingyu throws it across the living room, smashing it to tiny pieces, the loud noise startling the girls in his bedroom.

They rush into the living room, panic written all over their faces, looking at him with wide eyes.

"What the fuck are you two looking at? Get out of here" his speech is slightly slurred, the two girls frozen in their spots.

"Are you deaf or stupid? Get the fuck out of here! Now!" Mingyu yells and they both yelp, scrambling to pick up their clothes and shoes, hastily disappearing behind the door of the apartment.

Silence falls in the space, but it's louder than any other noise he has ever heard in his life. He gets up, picking up his lighter and the half open pack of cigarettes, sliding one out, balancing it on his lips, swiftly lighting it up. He leans down on the couch, puffing out a cloud of smoke, mindlessly staring at the ceiling.

"God, I'm so fucked up."

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